#nickel boys book summary

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Nickel Boys: The blistering drama showing the US's racist past from a new, first-person perspective

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[lupinqs]

SAFE AND SOUND (1/3) ━━ pazzi

☆ ━ summary: in which azzi fudd forms an unexpected alliance with paige bueckers as they fight for survival in the hunger games.

☆ ━ word count: 10.1K

☆ ━ warnings: nothing yet really, should all be in the next chapter lol

☆ ━ links: part two, part three, my masterlist, ao3 link

☆ ━ author’s note: if i had a nickel for every time i wrote one of my ships going to the hunger games together, i’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice 🧐 obviously this is a hunger games au so if you haven’t read the book or seen the movie or are not familiar with the premise, i don’t know how well you’ll be able to understand. alsoooo this part is lowkey very much buildup and not actual pazzi just mostly azzi; it was meant to be one whole part but it would’ve been too damn long so i split it!

“AZZI FUDD.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, everything stops. The world around her seems to freeze in time. Lucia Bliss, the escort from District Nine, says the name with a certain flair, her voice high-pitched and breathy, as if this is a celebration instead of a death sentence. Lucia’s purple hair gleams under the harsh midday sun, her too-bright smile a sick contrast to the crowd’s silence.

Azzi stands rooted to the ground. Her heart slams in her chest, and her vision narrows as shock seeps through her bones. She can’t move, can’t breathe. Her body is disconnected from her mind, numbness spreading through her limbs. She vaguely registers the weight of the stares from the girls around her—some wide-eyed with horror, others carefully blank. Azzi blinks. Is this real? She swallows hard, but her throat feels like sandpaper.

She never let herself think about this. Never allowed the possibility to take root. She spent the whole week worrying about her little brothers, Jon and Jose, her anxiety circling around them like a storm cloud. Jose, especially. It’s his first Reaping, and he’d been so scared he couldn’t sleep the night before. Azzi had promised him it’d be okay, that the odds were in their favor. She’d lied. And now it’s her name that hangs in the air.

Her legs feel heavy, like they’ve been weighed down with stones, but somehow, she forces them to move. One step. Then another. Each movement is stiff, mechanical, her body obeying while her mind is still reeling. The faces in the crowd blur into a mass of pale colors, and Azzi avoids looking at any of them directly. The sun presses down on her back, making her skin feel tight, suffocating, but she barely registers it. Her heartbeat thuds in her ears, a dull roar that drowns out everything else.

I have to do this. She repeats it in her head, over and over, as if it will numb the panic creeping up her spine. I have to get up there.

The platform is higher than it looks. It looms above her as she approaches, and the closer she gets, the more she feels the weight of the district watching her. Her hands tremble at her sides, but she keeps them balled into fists, her nails digging into her palms. She can’t afford to show fear. Not now.

She steps onto the stage, the wooden floor creaking beneath her shoes. Lucia Bliss beams at her, all synthetic kindness and hollow enthusiasm, like she’s completely oblivious to the fact that she’s sending a sixteen-year-old girl to her death. Azzi wants to scream, to shout at her, to demand to know how she can smile like that. Instead, she stands there, stiff as a board, staring blankly into the crowd.

She doesn’t look at her family. Not yet. If she lets herself see them—really see them—she knows she’ll fall apart. And she can’t afford to break down, not in front of everyone. Not here. The numbness is the only thing keeping her from collapsing.

“Now, for the boys!” Lucia announces, with that same bright cheeriness, like this is all just a grand spectacle and not a nightmare come to life.

The second name is pulled, and Azzi barely registers the sound of the boy’s name. “Kellan Ryder.”

Her eyes catch a glimpse of him as he stumbles forward—a scrawny boy with messy red hair and too-thin arms. He looks no older than fourteen, maybe fifteen at most. His face is pale, his mouth set in a tight line as he walks toward the platform like a condemned man heading to the gallows. There’s no strength in him, no fire. He’s shaking like a leaf, and Azzi knows his fate immediately. Anyone with a brain should. He won’t make it.

Kellan’s knees wobble as he climbs onto the platform, nearly tripping on the last step. His frightened eyes dart around, but when they meet Azzi’s for a fleeting moment, she sees it—the absolute terror, the resignation that’s already settled in him. He knows he’s dead. And now, she’s tethered to him.

Lucia claps her hands together, looking as if she expects the crowd to erupt into applause, but no one moves. District Nine never claps at the Reaping. There’s nothing to celebrate here.

Azzi’s jaw tightens, her hands still clenched at her sides. What now? What happens next? She can’t feel anything except a dull, creeping fear gnawing at the edges of her consciousness. It’s been less than five minutes since her name was called, but it feels like an eternity has passed. She feels lost, unmoored, floating in a space where time no longer makes sense.

As the anthem blares across the square, she chances a glance into the crowd—just for a second. Her gaze locks onto her family. Her mom is there, her face pale but strong. Azzi’s dad stands right next to her, an arm around her waist. They wear the same firm expressions—like they may actually believe their daughter can make it through this. Azzi can’t find Jon and Jose—they’re somewhere within the rest of the relieved crowd of boys who have been spared this year.

Lucia is speaking again, but Azzi barely hears her. The words are muffled, distant, as she’s ushered off the stage and into the cold interior of the Justice Building. Her chest feels tight, her throat burning from holding back everything that’s clawing at her insides, threatening to break free. She can’t let them see her cry.

Inside the Justice Building, it’s quieter, but the silence only makes her pulse race faster. She’s taken to a small room to wait. The goodbyes. They give her only a few minutes with her family before she’s whisked away forever.

Her mother is the first to come in, and the second the door closes behind her, the stoic mask she’s been holding up crumbles. She rushes forward and pulls Azzi into a bone-crushing hug. Katie Fudd does not shed any tears, but Azzi can feel her shaking against her shoulder. Trembling, but trying to fight it.

“You’re going to come back,” her mother says firmly, as if she’s manifesting it into existence. And then, more choked: “Please, Azzi. You have to come back.”

Azzi stands stiffly for a moment, then wraps her arms around her mother. She wants to promise that she’ll come back, that she’ll survive, but the words stick in her throat. How can she make a promise like that when she doesn’t know if she can keep it?

“I’ll try,” Azzi says instead, her voice hollow. I’ll try. It’s all she can offer.

Her brothers come in next, Jon leading Jose. The second Jose sees her, he runs to her, clinging to her waist like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go. His face is streaked with tears, his breath coming in ragged sobs.

“You’re gonna come back, right?” Jose’s voice is small, broken. Azzi’s reminded that he’s only twelve. “You have to come back.”

Azzi pulls away slightly, brushing the hair out of his face. “I’ll do my best,” she whispers, her voice trembling. She can’t say anything more than that. She wishes she could lie, give him something more hopeful, but the truth is all she has.

Jon is much quieter, and he stands back, his face hard as stone. But his eyes—his eyes are full of pain, full of everything he’s trying not to feel. When he finally steps forward, he pulls her into a tight hug, whispering in her ear, “Please try to come home.”

Azzi nods, her throat too tight to respond.

And then it’s her dad that gets her last, his arms wrapping around her softer, less firm. He rubs a hand along her back, rests his chin on top of her head. It makes Azzi want to cry. But she doesn’t. She keeps the tears in. Tim tells her, “Be smart. Don’t trust anyone.” And then he pulls away, meeting her gaze. His eyes aren’t sad, they don’t memorize the lines of her face as if this is likely the last time they’ll ever see each other. Instead, they’re firm, a fire burning in them, a fire that believes Azzi has enough spark in her to win. “You’re strong, Az. You find what you’re good at, and you stick to it. Just like shooting.”

Azzi nods, though his words don’t truly reach her. She’s good at basketball—great, even. The best shooter in her district. But the Hunger Games isn’t basketball. It’s entirely different.

The goodbye is over too quickly, the Peacekeepers ushering her family out of the room, their voices echoing down the hall. As the door closes behind them, the reality of the situation hits her with full force. This is happening. This is real. There’s no way out of it. In just a few days, she’ll be in the arena, and all that will matter is survival.

Azzi takes a deep breath, her hands trembling. She has to survive. For her family. For her mom. For her dad. For Jon and Jose. I have to win.

But as the cold emptiness settles into her chest, she knows it’s not going to be that simple. Not even close.

THE ROOM in the Capitol’s Remake Center is pristine and clinical—too clean, in fact. The walls are bright white, and the overhead lights are too harsh, casting everything in an almost sterile glow. The faint hum of machinery buzzes in the background, and Azzi sits stiffly on the plush chair in the center of the room, her back straight and hands clenched in her lap. She can feel the cold, unfamiliar air of the Capitol against her skin, a far cry from the familiar, earthy smells of District Nine. The whole place feels wrong.

Azzi’s mind is still spinning from the events of the past day, from the Reaping to the train ride to the Capitol. Everything feels like a blur—one unending nightmare she can’t escape from. The vibrant, colorful city that’s supposed to be awe-inspiring feels nothing more than a glittering cage, trapping her in a world that doesn’t belong to her.

A knock at the door startles her from her thoughts, and she straightens, her heart thudding a little harder in her chest. The door opens, and in walks a tall, slender woman with dark, shimmering hair cut into a sleek bob. Her skin is flawless, glowing in the artificial light, and she’s dressed in an outfit that’s both futuristic and elegant, all smooth lines and shimmering fabric.

She strides into the room with the kind of confidence Azzi has only ever seen in Capitol citizens, her heels clicking against the floor. When she reaches Azzi, she extends a perfectly manicured hand and offers a soft, warm smile.

“Hello, Azzi. I’m Seraphine,” she says, her voice gentle, as though she knows how jarring this experience must be. “I’ll be your stylist for the Games.”

Azzi stares at Seraphine’s hand for a second too long before realizing she’s supposed to shake it. Her fingers feel cold as she grips the stylist’s hand briefly, then pulls away, her eyes flickering nervously to the floor. She hasn’t said a word since entering the Remake Center, and even now, her throat feels tight, like it’s closed off from the weight of everything around her.

Seraphine seems to notice Azzi’s discomfort and doesn’t push her to speak. Instead, she walks around the chair, studying Azzi with a critical yet kind eye, taking in her features as if she’s a sculpture being examined for the first time.

“You’ve got very strong features,” Seraphine says, her voice soft as she moves to stand in front of Azzi. She lifts a hand, her finger tracing the air just in front of Azzi’s face as if imagining her canvas. “A really beautiful face. Great symmetry. Your nose is perfect—straight, but with just a little softness at the tip. And your lips,” she smiles, “plump and well-shaped, the kind people pay for here in the Capitol.”

Azzi doesn’t know what to say. She swallows hard and forces out a quiet, “Thank you.”

But the words feel hollow in her mouth. Two days ago, she probably would’ve flushed at the compliment and grinned at the woman before her. But it doesn’t matter now. Being beautiful won’t keep her alive. It won’t stop a sword or a spear. It won’t protect her when she’s standing in the arena, staring down a tribute who wants her dead. She doesn’t care about her looks. She cares about surviving.

Seraphine seems to sense the tension in her, but she doesn’t comment on it. Instead, she steps back and claps her hands together, her expression shifting into something more professional. “Well, we’ve got a lot to do before the Opening Ceremony tonight. The tributes from District Nine usually get an agricultural theme, but we’re going to make sure you stand out. You’ll need something that catches the eye, something that makes people remember you. The Capitol loves a good first impression.”

Azzi tries to focus on what Seraphine is saying, but her mind keeps drifting, her thoughts pulling her back to District Nine, to the faces of her brothers, her parents, their small home nestled in the farthest corner of the district. She feels like she’s been dropped into an alien world, surrounded by people who don’t understand what it means to fight for survival. Here, everything is about image—how you look, how you present yourself. But in the Games, none of that matters. At least, not to Azzi.

Seraphine motions for Azzi to stand, and she does so stiffly, her muscles aching from sitting so rigidly for so long. The stylist begins to circle her, appraising her figure and murmuring to herself. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, Seraphine snaps her fingers, and a team of assistants rushes in, carrying bolts of fabric and strange devices Azzi doesn’t recognize.

Seraphine smiles softly, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s shoulder. “We’re going to make you look incredible. Trust me, Azzi. I’ve been doing this for years.”

Azzi doesn’t respond. She lets the team of assistants work on her, trying not to flinch as they run strange tools across her skin, smoothing it, shaping it. They tug at her hair, pulling it back tightly from her face, and apply makeup to her cheeks and eyes. She’s never worn anything like this before, and the sensation of it all feels foreign, uncomfortable. The air smells heavily of perfume and hair products, nothing like the open fields and fresh earth of her home.

Seraphine watches closely, making small adjustments as the assistants work. “We’ll keep it simple but striking,” she says as she examines the fabrics. “District Nine is about agriculture, the backbone of Panem’s food production. So we’ll lean into that, but in a way that makes you look powerful. Strong. Like someone the Capitol will want to root for.”

Azzi barely nods, her mind half-absent.

The assistants pull out a long, flowing piece of fabric, the color a rich golden hue that shimmers in the light. It’s embroidered with intricate patterns, resembling the fields of grain District Nine is known for. The material clings to her body, forming into a fitted jumpsuit that accentuates her athletic build. The design is sleek and modern, with a slight flare at the shoulders, giving her the appearance of strength, while the fabric flows behind her like a cape made of golden wheat.

Seraphine steps back, admiring the final look, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. “You look incredible, Azzi. Absolutely stunning. This will make the audience remember you—beautiful, but more importantly, formidable.”

Azzi stares at herself in the mirror, her reflection almost unrecognizable. The girl looking back at her is a Capitol version of herself, someone polished and made to look like she belongs here. But Azzi can see right through it. She doesn’t belong here.

“How do you feel?” Seraphine asks, stepping up beside her.

Azzi hesitates, her eyes lingering on her reflection. She looks strong, she looks like someone people might fear. But the question gnaws at her, the same thought that’s been looping in her head since she arrived at the Capitol.

“Being beautiful won’t help me in the arena,” she says quietly, her voice low, as if the thought escapes her without permission.

Seraphine’s expression softens, and she places a hand gently on Azzi’s shoulder. “It’s not just about beauty. It’s about presence. The Capitol citizens, the sponsors—they want someone they can believe in. If they believe in you, they’ll help you. They’ll send you things you need. And that could be the difference between life and death.”

Azzi doesn’t know how to respond to that. She’s never thought about it that way—never considered that people watching her might care enough to help. She doesn’t know if she likes that idea, though. It feels too distant, too detached. How can she trust that some faceless audience in the Capitol will care enough to keep her alive?

But she nods anyway, her jaw tight as she looks back at her reflection. “I guess.”

Seraphine gives her a reassuring smile, but Azzi can see the flicker of something else in the stylist’s eyes. Maybe a recognition of the bleakness that comes with the Games. Or maybe just sympathy. Either way, it doesn’t change the reality.

And then Seraphine is clapping her hands again, signaling the rush of assistants and stylists bustling back into the room. They tidy up the last few details, adjusting the cape of shimmering gold fabric that flows behind Azzi, smoothing out any wrinkles in the intricate embroidery of her jumpsuit. The noise, the movement, all of it feels overwhelming, but Seraphine stays calm and poised, giving Azzi a reassuring smile before gesturing toward the door.

“Come, Azzi. We need to head downstairs. Your chariot awaits,” Seraphine says.

Azzi’s legs feel unsteady as she follows her stylist. There’s a gnawing anxiety low in her stomach, a knot that’s only been growing tighter since her name was pulled. She walks behind Seraphine, out of the room and down a long, marble hallway that echoes with the click of the stylist’s heels. The air feels heavier here, the anticipation hanging thick in the space around them as they make their way to the first floor.

The elevator doors open, revealing the Remake Center’s ground floor—a massive, gleaming stable. The smell of horses hits her first, a sharp contrast to the sterile air of the upper floors. The space is wide and open, filled with row after row of chariots, each one assigned to a different district, waiting to carry their tributes into the Opening Ceremony. It’s loud, too, with the sound of people bustling around, prepping the tributes, adjusting the horses’ harnesses, and giving last-minute instructions.

Azzi’s eyes dart around, searching for Kellan, her district partner. She spots him off to the side, standing next to one of the chariots, his eyes wide with fear and his shoulders hunched as if he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. He looks terrible, Azzi thinks, her heart twisting in her chest. Kellan is so young—fourteen—the same age as her little brother Jon.

In fact, Kellan could’ve been Jon. Could’ve been Jose. The thought makes her feel sick. He’s just a kid. And now he’s about to be thrown into a fight to the death.

Azzi’s stomach churns as she approaches Kellan, trying to think of something to say, something that might ease his nerves, but nothing comes to mind. What can she say? You’ll be fine? It won’t be that bad? It would be a lie. There’s no comforting truth here.

Lucia is already there, too, flitting around with her usual enthusiasm. Her bright purple wig bounces as she talks, gesturing wildly with her hands. She’s all Capitol—flashy and clueless, too caught up in the spectacle of it all to realize what’s really at stake.

“Ah, Azzi! You look fan-tastic!” Lucia exclaims, clucking her tongue and clapping her hands together. “Seraphine has really outdone herself this year.”

Azzi gives a stiff nod, but her attention is drawn to the figure standing next to Lucia.

Their mentor—Cyrus.

A tall, grizzled man in his mid-forties, Cyrus won the Games when he was seventeen, Azzi knows that. His hair is streaked with silver now, and his face is lined with years of bitterness and loss—an expression she’s come to recognize in former victors. Cyrus isn’t the warmest person, but he knows what it takes to survive, and that’s all that matters to Azzi now.

He steps forward, eyeing her and Kellan critically, his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You both look good,” he says, his voice gruff, as if the compliment costs him something. “But this isn’t about just looking good. It’s about making the Capitol love you. You need them on your side, or you’re dead in the water.”

Kellan swallows hard, his eyes darting nervously toward the chariots. Azzi can see his hands trembling slightly at his sides, and again, that pang of guilt hits her. He shouldn’t be here. He’s too young.

So is Azzi. So is every other tribute here.

Cyrus doesn’t seem to notice Kallan’s behavior—or if he does, he doesn’t care. He steps closer, his voice dropping into a low, urgent tone. “When you get out there, you smile. You wave. You make sure they see you, like you’re already a victor. The crowd loves confidence. They love tributes who look like they’ll win, not ones who are scared to death.” His eyes flick to Kellan, lingering for a second too long. “So you both smile. Got it?”

Azzi nods, even though the last thing she wants to do is smile right now. But Cyrus is right. They have to play the game, even here.

She turns her head slightly, trying to shake off the weight of the moment when something—or someone—catches her eye.

Just across the stable, standing next to another chariot with her district partner, is a girl. She’s tall for a girl, like Azzi is, with long blonde hair that’s been braided back into a bun. Her outfit is clearly themed around District Seven—lumber—and it’s made of rich brown leather, like freshly cut wood, with patterns that resemble tree bark. But what stands out most to Azzi isn’t the outfit. It’s her face.

The girl’s features are sharp but soft in all the right places. She has a defined jawline, high cheekbones, and a pair of piercing blue eyes that seem to flicker with something unspoken. She’s pretty—beautiful, even—but not in the overdone, Capitol way. There’s something natural about her beauty, something real.

Azzi’s breath catches in her throat as their eyes meet. For a moment, the noise of the stable fades into the background, and all she can hear is the pounding of her heart in her chest. The girl holds her gaze, her expression unreadable but intense, like she’s studying Azzi just as much as Azzi is studying her.

This girl is another tribute. Another person Azzi might have to kill. But the thought doesn’t stop her from staring a second too long, from letting herself get caught in the girl’s gaze.

It’s only when Cyrus barks something at them that Azzi snaps her head back around, her cheeks flushing as she tries to focus. This isn’t the time for distractions.

She forces her attention back to Cyrus as he continues giving them last-minute instructions. “Smile. Wave. Make them love you. Got it?”

Azzi nods, though her thoughts are still jumbled. She glances at Kellan, who’s biting his lip nervously, his eyes darting around the stable like a rabbit caught in a trap.

And then they’re being ushered toward their chariot. Azzi takes a deep breath, her legs feeling wobbly as she steps onto the platform, Kellan following behind her. The horses, sleek and muscular, are restless in front of them, their hooves clattering against the marble floor. She grips the edge of the chariot tightly, her knuckles turning white.

As the chariots begin to roll out, Azzi takes one more deep breath. She can hear the roar of the crowd growing louder, the excitement building as the tributes are about to make their grand entrance.

The moment they roll into view of the massive audience, the noise is deafening. The Capitol citizens cheer and shout, their brightly colored hair and outrageous outfits blending together into a sea of vibrant chaos. Azzi forces herself to smile, just like instructed, letting her dimples show through as she waves to the crowd, her arm moving mechanically as if on autopilot. She hates it—the way their eyes are all on her, the way they’re watching her as if she’s nothing more than a piece in their twisted game.

She’s never wanted attention like this. The only way she’d ever dreamed of being noticed was by playing basketball, maybe one day making it big enough to play in the Capitol’s professional leagues. But that was a stupid dream—something far out of reach for someone from a District. Even if she won the Games, even if she became a Capitol darling, she’d never be allowed to play. The basketball leagues are for Capitol citizens, not for tributes. Not for people like her.

Azzi keeps smiling, keeps waving, even though every second of it feels wrong. The crowd’s cheers grow louder, their excitement palpable, but Azzi feels nothing. All she can think about is the girl from District Seven—the girl whose eyes she can still feel on her, even now, as the chariots roll forward.

IT’S THE second day of training. Yesterday, Azzi found her strength—throwing knives. It was quick; the dagger was the first weapon she picked up and tried. And it just… worked. It surprised her at first, but as the blades left her hand, spinning in the air before sinking into the target with a solid thud, it felt almost familiar. The motion, the precision, the focus—it all reminds her of shooting a basketball. In her mind, it’s the same concept: aim, release, make the shot. Whether it’s a knife sinking into a dummy or a ball swooshing through a hoop, the goal is the same. And it comforts her in a strange way, turning something deadly into something she’s used to, something she can control.

Now, Azzi stands several feet away from a dummy, gripping a knife, the handle cool against her palm. She lines it up with the target. Her muscles tighten as she flicks her wrist, releasing the dagger. It slices through the air, embedding itself into where the heart of the dummy would be with a satisfying thud. A perfect hit. She lets out a slow breath, allowing a small flicker of satisfaction to cross her face. The trainers don’t miss it either, nodding with approval as they observe her from across the room.

Cyrus, her mentor, has been watching her closely since she got here. And, after Azzi informed him of her successes with the daggers last night and his compliments of her physique, the true muscle she has, it’s been clear he’s placing his bets on Azzi this time around. It seems there’s just no point in trying with Kellan.

As for Kellan, he hasn’t said much of anything since they were whisked away to the Capitol. He’s just a boy, and Azzi has watched the fear in his eyes grow with each passing day. Cyrus has tried to train him, to offer him advice, but Kellan’s barely even listened. It’s as if he’s already given up. Azzi sees it in the way his hands tremble whenever he holds a weapon, the way he flinches during combat drills, and the way he refuses to meet anyone’s gaze. He’s already dead in his mind, and Azzi knows that mentality will get him killed in the arena.

“Focus on yourself,” Cyrus had told her bluntly last night after dinner. “Kellan’s not gonna make it. You need to accept that now.”

Azzi had nodded, the truth of Cyrus’ words sitting like a heavy weight in her chest. She tried talking to Kellan once, offering him a few words of encouragement, but he barely even acknowledged her. After that, she stopped trying. She can’t afford to waste time or energy on someone who’s already checked out. It isn’t like she doesn’t feel guilty—she does—but she has to survive.

She can’t focus on anyone else’s survival but her own.

Today, Cyrus has her focusing on something other than knives. “You’ve got those down,” he’d told her before the session. “Learn how to survive the elements now. Plants, food, water. You need to know what’s safe and what isn’t. Most tributes die from hunger, dehydration—not all of it is blood and guts.”

So Azzi finds herself crouched in front of an information station, its holographic displays showing various plants, fruits, and fungi. She taps the screen, cycling through images of plants she might find in the arena, trying to commit them to memory. Which ones are edible, which ones are poisonous, which ones could be used to heal wounds. It’s not as exciting as knife-throwing, but it’s necessary, and she knows it.

She’s absorbed in her study, staring intently at a particularly nasty-looking mushroom, when she senses someone approaching from the side. Her muscles tense instinctively, and she glances up, prepared to brush off whoever it is—until she sees Paige Bueckers standing next to her.

Paige Bueckers. District Seven. Azzi knows who she is. She’s memorized all the tributes’ names and districts by now—it’s smart to know who she’s up against—but Paige was the first one she committed to memory. Maybe it’s because of the way Paige caught her eye before the opening ceremony, their silent exchange of glances lingering in Azzi’s mind longer than she’d like to admit. Or maybe it’s because she’s watched Paige train over the past two days and realized just how dangerous the girl really is. Azzi saw her with a sword earlier, moving with a deadly grace that sent chills down her spine. Paige might be one of the most skilled tributes here, and that’s saying something.

Paige is tall, even a little taller than Azzi, and her blonde hair is pulled back into a ponytail, a thin, black headband resting over it. Her sharp, blue eyes meet Azzi’s as she stops next to her, wearing a grin that seems completely out of place in the tense, competitive atmosphere of the training center.

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige says, her tone casual, as if they’re not preparing to kill each other in a matter of days. “District Nine.”

Azzi glances back at the screen, her brows furrowing slightly. She doesn’t know how to feel about Paige approaching her. She doesn’t know what she wants. This could be some kind of strategy—get close to your enemies, make them lower their guard. Azzi isn’t stupid. She knows better than to trust anyone here.

“Bueckers,” Azzi replies, her voice neutral, not giving anything away. She keeps her eyes on the screen, scrolling through more plant images.

But Paige doesn’t leave. She shifts her weight, bouncing slightly on her heels, like she can’t seem to stay still. The grin on her face widens, and Azzi feels even more confused. Why is Paige so friendly? Why is she smiling like they’re just two normal girls having a chat?

“So, you’re, like, really good with daggers, huh?” Paige says, her voice light. “I saw you throwing earlier. Pretty impressive.”

Azzi doesn’t look up. She sighs instead, her fingers hovering over the screen. “Guess so,” she mumbles. In the back of her mind, she knows she should probably be nicer. Paige might be trying to form an alliance, and with Kellan being a dead end, Azzi could use one. But trust is a luxury she can’t afford right now, and Paige’s enthusiasm throws her off.

Paige doesn’t seem fazed by Azzi’s short response, though. She keeps standing there, grinning like an idiot, her eyes twinkling with some kind of amusement. It’s unnerving how at ease she seems, how… happy. It’s probably a mask. She’s probably as terrified as the rest of them, and she’s just getting through it in her own way.

Nevertheless, Azzi can’t take it anymore. She turns her head slightly, locking eyes with Paige. “Why are you talking to me?” she asks bluntly.

Paige blinks, her grin faltering for just a moment. For the first time, she looks a little unsure of herself. “Um… I don’t really know, actually,” she admits with a small, nervous laugh. “Just… wanted to, I guess.”

Azzi narrows her eyes, studying her. She has no idea if the girl before her is being honest. But the sincerity in her voice catches Azzi a little off guard, and for a second, she’s not sure what to say. This is the Hunger Games. No one talks to someone just because they “want to.” Everyone has an angle. Yet Paige stands there, looking oddly genuine, like she really doesn’t have a reason. Like she just wants to talk to Azzi, no strings attached.

For a moment, Azzi’s walls start to crack. She considers the possibility—however slim—that Paige is just… a good person. It doesn’t make sense, not in a place like this, but the warmth in Paige’s smile makes Azzi’s suspicion waver.

“Well,” Azzi finally says, her voice a little softer than before, “maybe you shouldn’t.” She doesn’t look away this time, her eyes lingering on Paige’s, almost like she’s testing her.

Paige’s grin returns, softer this time, but still there. “Maybe,” she says, “but I’m here anyway.”

Azzi shakes her head a little, gaze returning to the screen. She needs to focus on this, not the girl beside her.

Paige doesn’t seem to be deterred, though, still watching Azzi with that easy smile, her eyes bright. “You’re pretty serious, yeah?” she says, tilting her head, almost like she’s teasing but not quite. “Locked in. I get it. Gotta be. But… we’re all here, y'know? Same boat.”

Azzi shifts her weight, feeling her jaw tighten. “I have to be serious,” Azzi mutters, her fingers swiping across the screen, though she’s not really paying attention to the plants anymore. Her heart beats a little faster under Paige’s gaze. “You can’t survive if you’re not.”

Paige leans in just slightly, and Azzi catches the faint scent of something sweet on her, like flowers. “I know that,” she says, her tone softening for a moment. “But you might need some help in there—if you wanna win.”

Azzi’s shoulders tense. The suggestion makes her uneasy, and her instinct is to push back. Help. From anyone, it feels too dangerous. It feels like relying on someone she can’t control. She barely trusts herself in this place, let alone a girl from another district who, let’s be real, could very well end up as an enemy.

“I don’t need help,” Azzi says, her voice firmer than before. “Especially not from people I don’t know.”

Paige’s smile fades a little, but there’s no frustration in her expression. If anything, she just looks… thoughtful, almost curious about Azzi’s reaction. It’s like she’s trying to figure her out, trying to see beneath the guarded exterior.

Azzi hates that. She doesn’t want to be studied or analyzed, especially not by Paige Bueckers. She’s already doing too much of that herself—constantly assessing everyone, weighing their strengths and weaknesses, trying to predict who’s a threat and who might just fade into the background.

“I’m not trying to get in your way, Azzi,” Paige says quietly, her voice losing some of its earlier lightness. “But, y’know, maybe we don’t have to be enemies. I’ve seen you, and you’re good. Like, real good. And neither of us are Careers and both our district partners are kinda duds, so I just thought…”

Azzi cuts her off, turning to face her abruptly. “Thought what? That we’d be allies? Friends?” She shakes her head, ignoring the strange knot of tension building in her chest. Paige might be trying to help, but Azzi doesn’t want it. She can’t want it. Not here. “It doesn’t work like that. I don’t work like that. Sorry.”

Paige stands there, still watching her, and for a second, Azzi thinks she sees something flicker in Paige’s eyes—disappointment, maybe, or understanding. But Paige doesn’t push back. She just nods once, a slow, thoughtful thing.

“Okay,” Paige says, stepping back a little, giving Azzi space. Her smile returns, softer, but still there. “I get it. Just… keep doin' what you’re good at.”

Azzi feels a strange pang in her chest as she watches Paige step away, like maybe she’s made a mistake. But no—she can’t think like that. She needs to stay focused, stay sharp, stay alone. That’s how she’ll survive.

Without another word, Azzi turns on her heel and walks away, her heart beating faster than before.

THE PINK dress hugs Azzi’s figure, its soft blush fabric shimmering under the bright lights of the dressing room. It’s not something she’s ever imagined herself wearing—not this shade, not this tight. She looks almost like a Capitol citizen now, polished and flawless in her own right.

The dress has a high neckline and delicate straps that crisscross her shoulders, falling in elegant folds down to her ankles. It’s simple, yet the color makes her stand out, glowing softly against her dark skin. Her hair is styled in loose waves, not unlike the Capitol’s obsession with effortless beauty, with the font pieces pulled back into braids. The makeup is light but dramatic—plump lips, accentuated cheekbones, and eyes that pop with a subtle pink shimmer.

Seraphine steps back, admiring her work with a satisfied smile. “You look stunning, Azzi. Like a dream.”

Azzi nods, not fully meeting Seraphine’s gaze. She knows she looks good, but it doesn’t feel like her. The face staring back at her in the mirror is a version of herself she doesn’t recognize. It’s not the Azzi from District Nine; it’s not the girl who shoots hoops with her brothers or helps her dad tend to the crops. It’s someone else—someone made for the Capitol’s stage. Someone for their entertainment.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, though her voice lacks enthusiasm. Seraphine doesn’t seem to mind. She knows by now that Azzi is serious, focused. There’s no time for compliments when the Games are looming.

Seraphine’s assistant adjusts the hem of Azzi’s dress one last time before stepping aside. “You’ll knock them dead,” she says with a wink, though the words sit heavy with the weight of their meaning. Knocking them dead. That’s quite literally what Azzi will have to do soon enough.

As she’s led out to the waiting area before the interviews, Azzi’s mind begins to drift. She thinks back to the training evaluations, how she had scored a 10—one of only four tributes to do so. A 10 is good, she knows that, but the competition is fierce. Both the girl and boy from Two scored 10s and Paige managed a 10 as well. There are other tributes with 9s, plenty who will be formidable in their own right. But Paige? Paige is different. She’s unpredictable, unnervingly skilled. And something about her makes Azzi feel a pang of unease.

As Azzi settles into her seat backstage, waiting for her interview with Caesar Flickerman, she watches the other tributes’ interviews on the screen. The Careers are all flashy and confident, playing up their deadliness to the crowd’s delight. Caesar eats it up, grinning and laughing as they boast about their skills and charm the Capitol audience. The boy from District Four also stands out—tall, muscular, and intimidating. A strong swimmer, no doubt. He’ll be dangerous, especially if the arena is at all water-based.

But none of them hold a candle to Paige.

When Paige steps onto the stage, it’s as if the entire room shifts. She looks stunning, effortlessly cool, in a crisp white suit that contrasts sharply with the frilly dresses most of the other girls have chosen. Her hair is down, styled in soft, wavy locks, with the top half pulled back in a way that highlights her sharp features. She looks more masculine than the other girls, but somehow that works in her favor. It’s not just that she’s different—it’s that she owns it. The Capitol loves different.

Azzi watches, unable to tear her eyes away, as Paige charms the entire crowd. She’s funny, confident, and just the right amount of cocky. Caesar practically beams at her, and the audience is eating out of the palm of her hand.

“You’re quite the swordswoman,” Caesar says, raising his eyebrows in admiration. “I saw your score, Paige—a 10! That’s incredible.”

Paige just grins, shrugging casually. “You know, I try.”

The crowd laughs, and Cyrus begins to mutter under his breath. “Damn it,” he says, shaking his head as he runs a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “She’s going to have sponsors lined up around the block.”

Azzi knows he’s right. Paige isn’t just skilled—she’s magnetic. People want to root for her. She’s dangerous, yes, but she’s also got this charm that makes you want to see her win, even if that means she’ll be killing people to get there.

Azzi swallows hard, feeling a knot form in her stomach. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she’s drawn to Paige, too. There’s something about her that pulls Azzi in—her confidence, her grace under pressure, her ease in the face of what’s to come. It’s not just attraction, though she can’t deny that Paige is beautiful. It’s more than that. There’s something about Paige that makes Azzi feel like she’s… alive. Like she’s not just surviving, but living fully in the moment, despite everything. Ironic, considering Paige could be the one to kill Azzi in that arena—or vice versa.

And Azzi hates that she feels this way. She shouldn’t be drawn to Paige. She shouldn’t be thinking about how Paige’s eyes had locked onto hers back at the opening ceremony, or how Paige had approached her during training, trying to talk like they were friends. None of it matters. Paige is just another tribute, another obstacle standing between Azzi and survival.

But still… there’s something about her.

As Paige’s interview wraps up, the crowd erupts in applause, and Caesar gives her a hug before she leaves the stage. Azzi watches as Paige walks off, her suit practically glowing under the stage lights. For a brief moment, Paige glances in Azzi’s direction, their eyes meeting across the room. It’s quick—just a fleeting second—but Azzi feels her heart skip a beat before she looks away, reminding herself why she’s here.

Just two interviews later, Azzi is taking a deep breath as the lights hit her, stepping forward onto the stage. The crowd is massive, louder than she imagined, and their cheers seem to echo in her chest. Her eyes land on Caesar Flickerman, who’s grinning wide at her as she approaches him, his flamboyant suit sparkling under the stage lights.

“Ladies and gentlemen, please give a warm welcome to Azzi Fudd from District Nine!” Caesar announces, and the crowd’s cheers grow even louder.

Azzi sits down next to Caesar, her fingers resting awkwardly in her lap. Despite the excitement around her, she feels the familiar nervousness bubbling up inside. This isn’t her element—talking, being the center of attention. She’d rather be on the sidelines, unnoticed, but here, there’s no avoiding it.

“Azzi, you look absolutely radiant tonight!” Caesar says, his voice warm and enthusiastic. “Tell me, how does it feel to be here in the Capitol, getting all this attention?”

Azzi smiles politely, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “It’s… different,” she says softly. “I’m not really used to it. But it’s nice, I guess. Everyone’s been very kind.” Very kind because they probably know I’ll be dead in a couple weeks.

Caesar nods, leaning in slightly. “I can imagine it’s quite a change from life in District 9. Tell me, what’s life like back home?”

Azzi pauses, her mind drifting back to the open fields and the quiet days of working alongside her family. “It’s simple,” she says. “We work hard, but it’s peaceful. Most of my days I’m just spending time with my family, doing the chores or playing basketball. It’s nothing like here, but it’s home.”

Caesar smiles warmly, sensing the connection she has to her district. “Family, huh? I bet they’re watching right now, rooting for you. Tell me, do you have a big family?”

Azzi shrugs a little. “Not too big, not too small, I think. There’s my parents, and then I have two younger brothers. And we’re still very close to my grandparents. I just… love my family, they’re very supportive. They’re great.” She feels her throat get choked up by the end of the sentence, not wanting to think too much about her family, how much she misses them. Even though, truthfully, she knows she should be thinking about her family because that is what needs to be her motivation. She needs to win this for them, no matter how impossible it may seem.

The crowd gives a soft murmur of approval, and Caesar’s grin widens. “That’s wonderful. Sounds like you’ve got a lot of people cheering you on back home. And speaking of support…” He pauses dramatically, the audience clearly hanging on his every word. “Any special someone out there you’re hoping to impress? Perhaps a crush back home?”

Azzi’s eyes widen a little at the question, feeling her face heat up. A crush. That is quite literally the last thing on her mind right now. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat, not sure how to answer without sounding awkward.

“I, um… no,” she says with a laugh that’s more nervous than she intended. “Not really. I’ve been focused on training, so… no time for that.”

Caesar laughs good-naturedly, waving a hand as if to brush off the question. “Oh, I get it, I get it! Training comes first, of course. But I’m sure there are plenty of admirers in the Capitol who are wishing they could get your attention.”

The crowd cheers in agreement, and Azzi can’t help but smile a little at their enthusiasm, though she still feels her nerves fluttering in her stomach.

“But let’s talk about something fun,” Caesar continues, changing gears smoothly. “You’ve been in the Capitol for a little while now. What’s your favorite part so far? The food? The fashion? The luxury?”

Azzi takes a moment to think, glancing down at her dress. It’s true, everything in the Capitol has been overwhelming—lavish and excessive compared to the modest life she’s known back in her district. But there’s one thing that stands out to her more than anything.

“The food,” she answers with a small smile. “I’ve never seen so much of it in my life. And it’s all so… colorful. I didn’t even know you could make food look like that.”

Caesar chuckles. “Colorful! I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.” He hits his knee as he laughs, the audience giggling with him. “But, yes! The Capitol chefs do love their extravagant dishes. Has there been anything in particular that’s caught your eye?”

“Honestly, the desserts,” Azzi admits, her smile widening. “There was this cake we had the other night, and it was shaped like a swan. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was so good.”

The crowd laughs once more, clearly charmed by her innocence, and Caesar claps his hands together. “A girl after my own heart! Who can resist a good dessert, right?”

Azzi relaxes a little more, finding it easier to talk now that the conversation has shifted to lighter topics. Caesar’s friendliness helps, and she realizes that, for the first time, the crowd isn’t as intimidating as she thought they’d be.

“You know, Azzi,” Caesar says, his tone softening just a bit, “you’ve got this quiet strength about you. I think a lot of people are really drawn to that. You don’t need to be loud or flashy to make an impact. And clearly you have made an impact—you scored a ten in the training. I mean, come on!”

Azzi smiles a little bit at the validation, her dimples poking through. “Thank you,” she says, nodding. And then she shrugs, her lips quirking up a little further as she adds, “I try.”

Caesar and the crowd chuckle at the action. “Well, you’ve certainly done well,” he tells her earnestly, before adding, with a wink, “And I have to say, your smile is absolutely infectious. I think you’ve got the whole crowd wrapped around your finger.”

The audience cheers again, louder this time, and Azzi feels her face heat up.

“Well, Azzi, it’s been an absolute pleasure talking to you tonight,” Caesar says, standing and offering his hand to help her up. “I think I speak for everyone when I say we’re all rooting for you.”

Azzi stands, shaking Caesar’s hand and giving the crowd a small wave as they erupt into applause. As she walks off the stage, back to where Seraphine, Lucia, and Cyrus are waiting, the adrenaline from the interview still buzzes through her.

Lucia beams at her as she approaches, her hands rushing to cup Azzi’s cheeks. “You were perfect, Azzi! Absolutely perfect.”

Seraphine nods in agreement. “The crowd loves you. You’re going to get so many sponsors, I just know it.”

Even Cyrus gives her a rare grin, clapping her on the shoulder. “You did good out there, kid. Real good. I think you’ve got them in the palm of your hand now.”

Azzi lets out a breath, the tension slowly leaving her body as she realizes she’s done it. She got through the interview, and didn’t just survive it—she actually made a connection, made herself heard and liked. The Capitol might not feel like home, but for now, at least, she knows she’s done everything she can to stand out in the best way possible.

THE MORNING is unnervingly quiet. Azzi walks beside Cyrus, the soles of her shoes barely making a sound on the sleek marble floors of the Capitol building. They’re headed toward the hovercraft, the final step before the arena. The place where everything will change. Each step closer feels heavier, the weight of what’s coming settling into her bones.

Cyrus walks just ahead, his brow furrowed in thought. Azzi knows well enough that he’s not the type for overly emotional goodbyes, but there’s a seriousness to him today that wasn’t there during training. His hands are tucked into his pockets, and Azzi notices the faint lines of tension in his jaw. She’s quiet, still processing the fact that in just a few hours, she’ll be fighting for her life.

As they near the docking area, Cyrus stops abruptly, turning to face her. His eyes are sharp, cutting through the nervous haze that’s settled over her.

“Listen to me, Azzi,” he begins, voice low but firm. “This is it. From here on out, it’s all strategy. Everything you do, every move you make—it has to be calculated, smart.”

Azzi nods, her throat tightening as she listens.

“I know it’s not in your nature to trust easily, but in the arena, you’ll need to be even more cautious,” he continues. “Don’t form alliances unless it’s strategically sound. I don’t care if they seem friendly or if they remind you of someone from back home—trust no one unless it gives you an advantage.”

His words cut deep, and she swallows hard. She hasn’t really thought much about alliances, but it’s clear that Cyrus has. He knows this game inside and out.

“And whatever you do, keep your emotions in check,” Cyrus adds, his gaze hardening. “The moment you start caring too much about anyone in there, you’ve already lost. I know you’re good-hearted, Azzi, but that’s not going to save you—not in the Games.”

She doesn’t say anything, just nods again. The lump in her throat grows as the reality of what’s coming washes over her.

“And the bloodbath.” Cyrus pauses, before his voice lowers slightly. “The moment those platforms rise, it’s going to be chaos. Don’t linger. Don’t get caught up in the fight unless it’s unavoidable. Get what you need and get out. Do you understand?”

Azzi meets his eyes, the weight of his words settling deep in her chest. “I understand,” she says softly.

He studies her for a moment, and for the first time since they arrived in the Capitol, Cyrus’s tough exterior seems to soften. His hand reaches out, resting on her shoulder, and the squeeze he gives is firm, reassuring.

“I believe in you,” he says quietly, his voice sincere. “You’re smart, and you’ve trained hard. I’m going to do everything in my power to help get you home.”

Her eyes well up slightly at his words, but she quickly blinks back the tears. She can’t afford to be emotional right now. There’s no space for it.

“Thank you,” she murmurs, barely able to get the words out past the lump in her throat.

Cyrus nods once, and then he’s stepping back, his hand falling away from her shoulder as they reach the hovercraft. Seraphine is already there, waiting for Azzi, her usual cheerful demeanor muted with the solemnity of the day. The metallic hiss of the hovercraft’s door opening sends a shiver down Azzi’s spine. This is it.

Without another word, Azzi steps inside. Seraphine follows, offering a small, reassuring smile as the door slides shut behind them. The hovercraft hums softly as it lifts off, heading toward the arena.

Inside, the sterile, clinical atmosphere makes her stomach churn. A Capitol medic approaches her almost immediately, a small syringe in hand. Azzi barely flinches as the needle pierces her skin, injecting the tracker into her forearm. She knows it’s necessary. They need to know where she is at all times. It’s standard procedure, but it still makes her feel like livestock.

Seraphine sits beside her, her usual flair for Capitol fashion stark against the dull surroundings of the hovercraft. She doesn’t say much, just watches as Azzi rubs her arm where the tracker was inserted. The silence is heavy, filled with unspoken words, and it’s not long before they arrive at the underground facility just outside the arena.

Once inside, they’re led into a small room where Azzi is handed her arena outfit—a black, water-resistant suit that fits snugly against her frame. It’s durable, sleek, and clearly meant for endurance. The material feels odd against her skin, foreign compared to the simple, looser clothes she’s worn most of her life.

She glances at herself in the mirror. The suit is practical, but its design tells her something about the arena. Water. The Capitol is hinting that water will play a significant role in the Games. Maybe a jungle, maybe a lake, or something more treacherous. Her mind races with possibilities, but she pushes the thoughts aside. She’ll find out soon enough.

As she pulls the last of the suit into place, Seraphine watches her carefully, her eyes glassy. The usually confident stylist seems suddenly small, fragile, as if she’s struggling to keep herself together. She steps forward, her hands gently smoothing the fabric of Azzi’s suit, her fingers trembling slightly.

“You’re going to be alright, Azzi,” Seraphine says softly, her voice cracking just a little. “You’ve been so strong. You’re going to make it back—for your family. I know you will.”

Azzi’s chest tightens at the words. Seraphine’s sincerity, her belief that Azzi can survive this—it’s almost too much to bear.

“Thank you,” Azzi whispers, her voice barely audible.

Seraphine pulls her into a tight hug, her arms wrapping around Azzi’s frame with surprising strength. It’s brief, but Azzi feels the weight of Seraphine’s worry in that embrace. It’s like she’s saying goodbye.

When they pull apart, Seraphine’s eyes are red-rimmed, though she’s trying her best to hold it together. “Good luck, Azzi,” she says, her voice shaky. “You’re going to be okay.”

Azzi swallows the lump in her throat and nods. She doesn’t trust herself to speak, so she just gives Seraphine a small, grateful smile.

The door to the launch chamber opens, and it’s time.

Azzi steps into the glass cylinder, her heart pounding in her chest. The last thing she sees before the platform begins to rise is Seraphine, standing in the doorway, her hands clasped tightly together as if in prayer.

And then the ground shifts beneath her feet, and she’s lifted upward, the glass tube carrying her toward the surface. Toward the arena.

The first thing she notices is the intense humidity. The air is thick, almost suffocating, and it clings to her skin. As her eyes adjust to the sudden brightness, she realizes why—it’s a jungle. Dense, tangled vines hang from towering trees, their massive roots weaving through the ground like some ancient network. The ground beneath her platform is slick with mud, and just beyond the edge of the platform is a large body of water—a vast lake, its surface calm and unnervingly still. It stretches out as far as she can see, bordered by the dense jungle on one side and the metallic glint of the Cornucopia in the center.

Water. She was right.

Azzi’s gaze darts to the other tributes. There’s movement all around her, platforms rising as the others are pulled into view. Some faces are familiar from the training center, others not so much. She spots the Careers first—the boy and girl from District Two, standing tall and confident, both of them dangerous and ready. Their eyes are already locked on the Cornucopia, clearly prepared to kill anyone who stands in their way.

A few spots down, she sees Kellan. His face is pale, his eyes wide with fear. He looks like he’s barely holding it together, his body stiff as if he might bolt the second the gong sounds. He’s trembling slightly, and Azzi’s heart tugs at the sight. He’s not going to last long, not with that kind of fear weighing him down. But she can’t afford to think about him—about anyone, really. Cyrus’s voice echoes in her mind: Don’t get too close to anyone.

She swallows hard, her gaze shifting back to the Cornucopia. The metallic structure gleams in the sunlight, stacked with supplies—everything they’ll need to survive. Weapons, food, water. But it’s a death trap. The Careers will get there first, and they’ll cut down anyone who tries to take something they’ve claimed.

Azzi’s eyes flick to the jungle behind her. It might be safer to head for cover, to avoid the bloodbath entirely. But then again, if she doesn’t grab something now, she could be left empty-handed, vulnerable. She forces herself to breathe deeply, trying to focus on her strategy. It has to be quick, precise. She’ll grab something—anything—and get out. That’s it. Nothing fancy.

The countdown begins, the metallic voice booming over the arena. Sixty seconds.

Azzi’s heart races as the clock ticks down. She glances around once more at the other tributes, trying to gauge their movements before it’s too late. Some are already tensing, their eyes glued to the Cornucopia. Others, like Kellan, are frozen in place, terrified to move. Far across from her, Azzi thinks she sees a flash of blonde hair. Paige. She wonders if she’s scared right now.

Thirty seconds.

Azzi’s hands ball into fists at her sides, every muscle in her body tightening. The humidity, the jungle, the water—it all presses in on her, but she pushes the fear down. She can’t afford to freeze up. She won’t.

Fifteen seconds.

Her pulse pounds in her ears, the world around her narrowing to just the Cornucopia and the water at her back. She feels the weight of everything—Cyrus’s words, Seraphine’s hope, the Capitol’s eyes—bearing down on her. It’s overwhelming, but she won’t let it break her.

Ten seconds.

The other tributes are crouching now, their bodies taut, ready to sprint the moment the gong sounds. Azzi glances at the Cornucopia again, her mind calculating every possible move, every route.

Five seconds.

Her heart hammers in her chest, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Three.

She digs her heels into the platform.

Two.

Her hands tremble.

One.

The gong sounds.

The Sixtieth Hunger Games have begun.

[kooktrash]

season of the witch | jeon jungkook

summary: he’s not a bad boy, he just gets himself in bad situations at times that lead him to bizarre happenings. for instance, he had no intentions of visiting an occult shop in the middle of the night in search for a phone… but here he is in the middle of October feeling himself fall for the self-titled witch who owned it. suddenly he’s gone from your casual heart breaker, to your sweet boy next door.

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆.˚ genre/au: heartbreaker!jk x witch!y/n [she/her], whimsigoth, modern witch, halloween .⊹✶ ✶ ✶☾✴

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆. 16.9k words˚.⊹✶✴

warnings: smut. fluff. very slight angst if you squint. honestly pretty cute. oc gives off whimsigoth vibes but honestly a big softie. mentions of spells and hexes. jk is a skeptic. oc has a black cat named. jk becomes a bit spiritual. honestly just a cute modern witch fic inspired by your 90s witch. no protection bc they’re idiots and didn’t plan. oc is scared to get in relationships. soft sex. oral sex [f receiving] jk is a service dom highkey. actual magic moments but they’re brushed over

HALLOWEEN SPECIAL

mentions of the occult [loosely referenced] it’s just a little Halloween thing, fiction and not at all educational or informative

“Admit that we’re lost.”

The street was as dark as night and empty. It felt like they were the only two signs of life around and yet he refused to admit he’s lost. There’s lit jack-o-lanterns on people’s yards so he knows he’s still close to civilization and that’s enough to keep him going—and he swears he’s not being dramatic.

“We’re not lost,” he said, not bothering to look back at his friend who surely rolled his eyes with annoyance, following after him nonetheless.

“Jungkook, it’s late, I’m tired, just admit we’ve been walking in circles,” his friend said, words falling on deaf ears. Jungkook just smiled, pointing ahead at the first true source of light they’ve seen for a while, “Let’s go there.”

It was almost midnight and most businesses around here were already closed and yet there was a small shop with a red lighting store front and plants hanging from the ceiling. There was a sign on the door that said, ‘OPEN’, with its business hours printed beneath and the shop’s name painted on the window. He didn’t hesitate to swing the door open, hearing the bell above the door ring as they entered the strange shop.

There was so much to look at from books to multi colored rocks separated into groups with labels on them; Tiger’s Eye, Black Onyx, Topaz, Amethyst, the list went on. Hanging above were various green plants and small jars lining the shelves on the walls of rose petals, lavender, mandrake, and plants he’s never heard of before.

“What is this place?” Hoseok asked with a small scoff in disbelief as he held up a charcoal pentagram and a bundle of sage. There were skeleton paper weights and bottles of various oils that gave the shop an herbal smell he couldn’t tell if he liked or not.

Jungkook didn’t have much to say, only shrugged his shoulders in response as he let his attention be drawn toward a hanging suncatcher that caught the red light used to warm the plants in the cold. His hand reached out to touch, watching it dangle and effortlessly swing away from him. There was no one behind the wooden counter filled with handmade jewelry made of copper and nickel twisted in various designs of trees, moons, suns and vines circling around crystals. There was an open book at the counter and he curiously walked toward it, wondering if it was a product list or maybe even the name of the person working but he could barely make out the words or even the dark sketches.

Just as he came to admit there was nobody here, a soft mewl caught his attention.

Yellow eyes stared into his brown ones as he looked up at the wall of ceramic figures behind the counter, and a black cat sat perfectly still next to a small sc of a dragon. He couldn’t look away from it, even when a soft sound of footsteps were heard from behind a tall, woven tapestry with embroidered stars that concealed a wooden spiral staircase.

“Coal, where’d you run off to?” Your voice was light and whimsical yet when you appeared behind the counter, you were dressed in black, a lot of it. A long black skirt with a thin black top that had green vines laced throughout it. Over it you had on a black shawl slipped down your shoulders.

Jungkook and Hoseok shared a strange look as they stood unnoticed while you picked up your cat to scold him for leaving while you talked. Jungkook tried to grab your attention by clearing his throat and once your eyes were on his, he smiled, “Um… hi, we saw that your shop was open and we were won—“

“Coal, I told you to flip the sign,” you whispered to the black cat as you let him jump out of your arms with an annoyed meow when you whispered, “Bad kitty.”

“Uh…” Jungkook couldn’t hide his look of confusion at the way you acted, “We’re uh, we’re lost and we were wondering if you had a phone we could use to call a tow truck.”

“Oh? Have you been in an accident?” You asked curiously, tucking some hair behind your ear creating a small jingle with all the jewelry you wore.

“Funny story actually,” Hoseok said, making you look him over with a raised brow—unable to ignore the bloody hockey jersey he wore, “We were at a party and uh, we got robbed. It was a whole shit show, honestly, we’ve been walking for over an hour and our car broke down so we’re going through it and we really just need a phone.”

“Coal, can you get my phone?” You turned to the cat that had made itself comfortable laying in a basket of dried moss. The cat didn’t make a move to leave, instead he turned his head away making you roll your eyes and add, “Please?”

Jungkook watched the cat run off behind the curtain with interest before looking at you, your eyes already on his, “So what kind of place is this?”

“It’s your local apothecary! Herbs, oils, incense—your occasional occult stuff, we specialize in the craft,” you said with a bubbly voice, “All very interesting stuff.”

“I’ll say,” Hoseok lifted a finger to tap on the mason jar filled with green liquid.

“What are you supposed to be?” You asked rather suddenly, turning your attention to Jungkook.

“Me?” Jungkook asked, looking down at himself, “I’m Dumbledore.”

He thought the long white beard, oversized robe and elder wand made that abundantly clear. You looked him up and down, “Hm.”

Hoseok couldn’t help but release a chuckle at the way you very clearly judged his friend’s choice of costume, “Yeah, I told him he would pull no bitches dressed like th—“

“Hobi,” Jungkook cut him off, motioning toward you with his head at the way your eye seemed to twitch with what he said. He tried to think of something to say but you were no longer interested when your cat came with the top of a phone case in his mouth. He set it down on the counter, letting his tail curl around your arm before leaving with a purr.

When you unlocked your phone, Jungkook thanked you and quickly tried to call a tow truck only to be told there were none open now. Hoseok couldn’t hide the fact that he was tired and found himself lying comfortably in a dark green daybed surrounded by books, leaving his friend to deal with all the hard parts. You didn’t say or rush anything when he took your phone and instead chose to watch him pace back and forth dialing every number he knew.

“This place is cozy,” Hoseok admitted, “I could nap here.”

“Coal, does it all the time,” you said with a soft smile, both tuning out Jungkook who was getting more annoyed by the second.

“Hyung, please pick us up,” Jungkook said in the background, tired of the itchy long beard so he snatched it off.

“I might get a promotion this week, what’s something I can use to wish me luck?” Hoseok asked, looking around the shop.

“I can help you make a spell jar, grab a basket,” you said cheerily as the hockey player got up to do as told. Jungkook tapped on the glass counter, starting a staring contest with the black cat while you and Hoseok began to collect herbs.

“I’ll send you my location,” Jungkook told the person on the phone, “15 minutes? We can wait here.”

“What does cinnamon do?” Hoseok asked, drawing Jungkook’s attention toward him.

“Alright, thanks Joon.” Jungkook hung up the phone, “Namjoon is coming for us. What are you guys doing?”

“Have you ever done a palm reading?” You asked Hoseok, ignoring Jungkook.

“No, but I’m down to try.”

“Sorry for keeping you up,” Jungkook said with a tired sigh as he looked at you hoping for a bit of acknowledgment on your part but you were currently helping Hoseok seal a mason jar with green candle wax.

Look…

Just listen…

Jungkook doesn’t think he has a type. He’s been with every type of girl possible since he started college but he’s never spoken to anyone like you. It’s not even just the way you’re dressed or the way you speak to your car but it’s also the store you worked at—or owned[?]. You’ve got his best friend making a good luck spell in the middle of the night and yet all Jungkook could think about is how cute you were.

Your skirt was fitted and it hugged your waist perfectly, exposing your torso and the way your shawl hung around your elbows instead of your shoulders was hot. You had these eyes that drew him in too, maybe it was your smudged dark makeup that made them stand out or the way you didn’t shy from staring into his eyes but he found it hard to look away.

“It’s a full moon tonight,” you said to him, “I was going to stay up anyway. I’ve already set up water to charge overnight.”

His brows furrowed, “Well, thanks anyway. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.”

“I’m Hoseok but you can call me Hobi,” Hoseok said with a confident smile, “This great wizard is Jungkook.”

“Dumbledore,” you said questioningly, “You took off your beard.”

“It was itchy,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly.

You looked behind him, “Coal doesn’t seem to think so.”

Jungkook followed your stare, finding the black cat suddenly wearing the long white beard. Hoseok laughed, “Not you putting the beard on the cat, Kook.”

“I didn’t,” Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Did I?”

You brushed past him, a soft scent of lavender incense overwhelmed him in a pleasant way and he couldn’t help but watch you in awe. There was just something about you… or maybe he’s had a long night and is imagining it.

“Joon is here.”

He can’t explain what it is but he can’t stop looking at you. Every move you made had his attention no matter how small and for a moment he forgot who else was around.

“Jungkook,” Hoseok snapped his fingers in front of his face, pointing out the window at the car parked outside, “Namjoon is here.”

“Oh, right,” Jungkook shook his head to snap out of the small trance he had been in, “Um, thank you Y/n, for letting us in.”

“No worries, Dumbledore, it made for an interesting night,” you held your cat in your arms now, forcing it to wave its paw goodbye, “And I do hope you tell me if the spell worked, Hobi.”

The two wanderers left the small shop of wonders and got in their friend’s car without further question, ending their night on a strange note that left one of them with curiosity.

The shop was home to you. It is where you felt most comfortable and it was passed down to you from a young age. It was a responsibility to help everyone who walked in, even if they asked for questionable things, you had to be there for them.

That’s why when a woman came in with tears down her face and a bundle of cash, you couldn’t just turn her away. Today your friend was working with you and he excelled in this sort of magic better than you did so you let him take the reel. He never seemed to mind intervening in the love lives of others and the shop was a safe space for men who’ve just been robbed and women who’ve been wronged.

“He’s a cheater,” she cried, “He lied to me a-and he thinks I’m just dumb. It’s not fair.”

“It’s not,” your friend said with a small smile, “Men like that can’t just walk around without any repercussions.”

“Jimin,” you warned him softly, watching the way he seemed to get the woman hyped on the thought of getting back at her husband. This is where he specialized, any sort of love magic no matter how bad, he loved it. You weren’t like him, you believed too much in karma to involve yourself in bad situations but you were never able to talk him out of it and it made the customer happy.

“Hush, Y/n, a simple hex never hurt anyone,” Jimin said, practically kicking his feet with glee, “Would that make you feel better, honey?”

The woman nodded her head, completely hypnotized by your best friend he disappeared behind another curtain toward the greenhouse. You waited behind idly, unsure what to do or say when a delivery driver pulled up in front of the building. Coal had flipped the sign to ‘CLOSED’ while Jimin performed his magic and the driver got out of his car holding a bouquet of flowers and a small box.

“Trust me, after this he won’t ever be able to please another woman again,” Jimin told her as he cut into a rotten eggplant.

You left the two quietly, making your way to the front door and ignoring the instructions Jimin gave the woman as she began to repeat the small chant he said.

You opened the shop door, stepping out, “Are you looking for someone?”

“Um… is this Scarlet&Sage? I’m looking for a Y/n.”

“That’s me,” you told him with furrowed brows, eyes widening as he practically shoved the bouquet of flowers into your hands and the gift box, asking you to sign before leaving. It took you a moment to process what happened before you headed back inside, just in time to watch Jimin finish the hex by helping the woman sew up the cut eggplant with candle wax and twine.

“You’ll want to leave this somewhere he can’t find it,” Jimin told her but you left before you could hear anything else.

You carried your things to the back room which was really just an extended shed of herbs and dried plants, Coal following close behind with curiosity as you opened up the small envelope inside.

‘Thank you for helping two strangers out so late in the night :) hopefully we’ll cross paths again

— Jeon Jungkook, Dumbledore’

The letter made you smile, a small blush forming on your cheeks when you pulled the lid off the box and gasped. Inside were two things, the first being a black hair clip with a pretty design on it and the second was a cat toy—Halloween themed. There was a sticky note on the plush skeleton fish that said, ‘For Cole’ on it that had you both sighing in disbelief.

Coal scratched at the note until it fell away from his new toy and ran away with it, surely to sulk at the misspelling of his name and pretend like he didn’t like the gift.

“Who’s the admirer?”

A light yell left your lips, nearly dropping the box as Jimin appeared at the doorway, “What admirer?”

“This one,” Jimin took the bouquet, examining it quickly with pursed lips, “Do tell me, Y/n, I am dying for the smallest sign of human interaction you might receive. I feel like you’ve become a recluse.”

“I have not,” you argued, letting him cut the tips of the stems, summoning over a vase with a wave of his hand that had it sliding across the wooden countertop to where he was, “I just… I do not have the time.”

“For?” Jimin asked setting the flowers up beautifully for you, “Oh whatever, just tell me who the flowers are from.”

“Nobody important,” you said almost shyly as your friend led the way back into the shop, ducking his head under twinkly lights and waving a finger to flip the sign back to ‘OPEN’, “The other night two men came in. They needed a phone and I let them use mine, that’s all.”

“Were they attractive?” Jimin asked with a raised brow, his instincts tingling at the hint of romance. Fleetwood Mac’s Dreams played in the background filling in the silence you left behind as you stopped to think about it.

The other night you met a dead hockey player and Dumbledore. Jungkook had been covered completely by old rags until the end when he took off the beard and even then the poor night lighting didn’t do well to make him attractive.

Still, part of you knew the two men would be considered popular just based on their looks.

“I think so,” you told him honestly, “It was hard to know, they were dressed up for a costume party.”

“You should have asked for their number,” Jimin said humorously, “Maybe then this god awful dryspell of yours would end.”

You rolled your eyes at his play on words before welcoming in a group of girls headed toward the crystals, “It’s not a dryspell and we both know it.”

“Oh, right,” Jimin rolled his eyes, “The curse. You give it too much power, sure there have been accidents in the past but those were all mere coincidence!”

“I’m sorry, but my first boyfriend losing a finger just a week after he fingered me for the first time doesn’t sound coincidental,” you half whispered and half shouted.

“It was a bowling accident!” Jimin laughed loudly.

“And what about the guy next door who used to help me water my plants before his house caught on fire?” You asked with a tilt of your hand that had him shrugging.

“Maybe he should’ve worried about the dry air in his own home before coming to yours,” Jimin joked.

“I’m serious, Jimin. Anyone who shows even the slightest interest in me gets hurt, and I mean literally not figuratively,” you said.

It was not a secret and your best friend knew it. Everyone who practiced the craft around here knew of the curse bestowed upon your family.

A curse on any man that dared love any woman in your family—you’ve seen it happen before and you’re not interested in hurting someone because of a centuries old curse you were born with.

Jimin had nothing to say now as he looked at the flowers with such curiosity he could practically picture the man who sent them.

Jeon Jungkook was special and everyone around him knew it. From his looks to his personality, there was not a single person unable to be charmed by him. It was a gift, really, just one smile or one look and he could practically get whatever he wants.

Of course, that’s not always a good thing, and that’s why he takes full blame for what happened last weekend. If he had known the girl who flirted with him had a boyfriend… he would have never hooked up with her in the bathroom. If they never hooked up then his things wouldn’t have been stolen and his tire wouldn’t have been slashed.

Sometimes he forgets that his actions have consequences and that night he learned how much of an asshole he really is to kiss a taken woman. The only good thing that came from it was the strange visit to an even stranger shop with an owner who blew his mind away.

He was beginning to think there’s something wrong with him. Why can’t he stop thinking about you? At first he thought it was out of guilt for bothering you that late so he had flowers delivered as a thank you but you still haven’t left his head. He’s nearly forgotten what you look like and he doesn’t like that.

“I can’t believe I got the promotion,” Hoseok said with a smirk as he plopped down on the chair next to Jungkook’s.

“You worked hard for it,” Jungkook reminded him.

“What if that little jar really did help?” Hoseok asked curiously, making Jungkook laugh suddenly and his brows furrowed, “I’m serious, Kook. I really thought they were gonna give it to the other guy.”

“Hobi, you worked your ass off for it,” Jungkook told him honestly, “Some stupid jar of cloves and cinnamon didn’t do it.”

That made his friend roll his eyes, “Whatever, I’m still stopping by the shop to offer my thanks—“

“You’re going back?” Jungkook asked, a look of interest in his eyes, an idea running rampant in his head at the thought.

There was a sudden urge to see you again running through his veins.

The shop felt surprisingly cozier during the day and it smelled of pomegranate and basil. A few customers shopped around, unable to help themselves from watching the two attractive men look every bit out of place as they felt while a man helped behind the counter.

Jimin popped his head over a jar of worms, eyes widening as he practically ran up the spiral steps in search of you. Your eyes were closed as you imagined a white light running over your body eliminating any piece of bad energy in sight. A set of silver headphones played lulling sounds of nature and the flicker of white candles helped lighten the dark room as you attempted to do your midday meditation. You sat with your legs crossed neatly and your floral skirt touched the ground even when your body floated in the air in concentration.

“Y/n!”

You’ve become one with your surroundings, you felt the energy coursing through you with each deep inhale and exhale you let out and your body became weightless, unable to think of anything but absolute clarity.

“Y/n!”

The sudden yank on your headphones caused you to snap out of the trance, falling to the ground with a hard thud that had you hissing in pain, “Ow!”

“He’s here!” Jimin said, snapping the candles off while helping you untangle your headphones.

“Who?” You asked, wrapping your loose cardigan tighter around your torso.

“The one who delivered the flowers,” Jimin said urgently as he took your hand in his and practically rushed you downstairs. You didn’t even get a chance to put your shoes back on and you had to hold the end of your matcha green skirt up to keep from dragging across the floorboards.

“How do you kno—“

“Instincts,” Jimin said, wiggling his nose, “I can just tell.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him as you joined him downstairs, not fully believing he knew who he was talking about until you saw it with your own eyes. Hoseok was much more familiar to you than the other considering his costume still looked like him but Jungkook was the one who caught your attention. He ditched the gray robes for black jeans and a white shirt under a black and white leather jacket. His hair was sleek and he had facial piercings you didn’t remember seeing last time but he looked good…

“Y/n! I got the promotion!” Hoseok said cheerfully, taking your focus for himself. You smiled sweetly, “Really? That’s wonderful.”

Jungkook found himself speechless when he saw you appearing from behind the celestial tapestry. He can’t explain it but you looked utterly beautiful. The crystal suncatcher he had seen the other night proved its purpose today by reflecting a soft rainbow on your complexion and he found it hypnotizing.

“Did you receive my flowers?” He found himself asking, damn near stuttering. Today you wore a matcha green floral skirt and a cream colored cardigan matched with some crystals around your neck. It didn’t sneak past him the fact that you were barefoot but it seemed to fit you either way.

“I did, they smelled wonderful,” you said joyously, “But…”

His lips parted with worry, ready to ask what happened when a deep meow took his attention. Your black cat curled around your skirt practically begging to be picked up and you did just that, cuddling the feline against your chest, “Coal is a bit bothered by the gift.”

Jungkook was left confused, watching the cat who seemed to be glaring at him, “Cole is?”

“Yeah, you see, you spelled his name wrong,” you said with a sigh, “His name is coal like the carbonized rock, not a man’s name.”

“Oh?” Jungkook tilted his head, “Oh. Coal, black as coal?”

“It’s because he’s a black cat,” Hoseok said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world to name your cat after a fire starter.

“Well, maybe he could appreciate the effort?” Jungkook asked, trying not to think of how ridiculous he sounded practically begging the feeling for forgiveness.

“He’s a bit of a grudge holder but maybe he’ll come around,” you said with a distressed sigh, staring off into the distance seeming like your mind was miles away. Hoseok had lost interest in the conversation as he began to skim through a book about runes while your coworker slash best friend pretended not to eavesdrop behind the counter. Jungkook watched you curiously as you focused on a group of teenage girls nosing through the incense sticks.

“Whatever you said to Hobi seemed to work the other day, he aced the interview,” Jungkook said, feeling the need to try and talk to you still. There’s just something about you.

Your entire essence felt whimsical and he wishes he could pinpoint what has his heart beating so fast but he can’t.

“It was the spell,” you told him with a smile, letting it fade when he scoffed in disbelief.

“No, seriously.”

“I am being serious,” your eyes narrowed, “We put a lot of effort into it.”

Jungkook would love to argue about magic and spells not being real but it was very clear this was not the place to do it—especially not when he can hear the guy behind the counter offer a potion to someone. He seemed like a con artist and yet you worked with him, did that make you one too? When he looked at you, he could easily assume you were dressed up for Halloween, it was October and some people go all out for the month. That could be you…

Or you could be playing a part for the store, doing whatever you could to get the sales going even if it meant packaging herbs in mason jars and calling it a spell.

The look you were giving him made it obvious that you were beginning to question his intentions too and he felt the need to backtrack even if his instincts were telling him not to, “Well uh, whatever you um… did worked.”

You flashed him a pretty smile, already losing interest in him as you turned around to see who was in the store. He couldn’t help but try and follow after you in hopes of keeping your attention on him but when he took a step, he nearly tripped and had to grab you for support. The two of you looked down, a small laugh bubbling in your throat, “Coal! You do not play tricks on people just because you’re mad.”

The cat meowed in response as you suddenly dropped to your knees before him, his heart racing at the action until you began to untie his shoelaces which had been knotted together so he would trip when he took a step. Jungkook laughed nervously, “I don’t remember doing that.”

“It was Coal,” you said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, “If anyone knows how to hold a grudge it’s that cat. Coal, say sorry.”

As if the cat understood what you said, he meowed as he ran off, making sure to hit Jungkook’s leg with his tail. He shook his head in disbelief at the way Coal responded so human-like, wondering if his dog acted this way too at times but he didn’t. Bam was always sweet and energetic, not a grudge holder or trickster like the feline. With a sigh he tried moving on, looking around for you only for you to be going behind a curtain toward a greenhouse. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to follow you, not caring about the sign that said no customers and searching for you.

“So, Y/n, I was wondering if you were busy tomorrow,” Jungkook said suddenly, “I was thinking we can get dinner as a thank you for the other night.”

“Oh,” you came to a stop, staring at a basket of molasses and shook your head, “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Jungkook was left speechless, unsure what to say as you once again seemed to disappear before his very own eyes, leaving him to look around confused and alone. He had no choice but to head back to the main store where he found you tying a string around Hoseok’s wrist. How did you move so quickly?

You mumbled something to his friend that he couldn’t quite hear and he’ll admit it made him a bit jealous. It’s not that he had strong feelings for you but here he is fighting plowing after that y only for you to wander off away from him. Was something wrong with him? Were you more interested in Hoseok? Jungkook had never struggled to keep a girl’s attention and yet it feels like your mind is everywhere else but him. Sure, you might be different from his usual type but did that mean he was different from yours? What kind of guy is your type anyway?

Someone with glasses who likes astrology?

“Jungkook,” you called for him rather softly and yet he went to you as if on command. You held up a string necklace with some sort of rock or marble on it and he didn’t hesitate to lean down so you could put it on him. It was a blue marble with a white circle and a black dot inside the circle.

“What is this?” He asked, swallowing dryly when your hands brushed against his neck.

“It has many names depending on where you’re from but, it’s an evil eye. It helps protect you from misfortune and anyone who wishes ill intent toward you,” you told him, making sure the bead sat perfectly between his collarbone, “I figured after the night you got your things stolen, it was better to stay protected.”

“Is there anything that would protect me against him, Y/n?” Hoseok joked, joining the two of you now, “If anyone brings me bad luck it’s Jungkook considering he’s the reason everyone’s always out to get us.”

He turned to Hoseok ready to tell him to shut up but his friend always struggled to read the room. Hoseok just laughed like he was telling the funniest joke, “Don’t look at me like that, it’s true. Who’s the one who made out with a girl who’s already taken?”

“I didn’t know,” Jungkook said and despite it being the truth, everyone looked at him differently now.

“So you’re one of those guys,” the man behind the counter said with a mischievous smirk that had Jungkook turning around to look at him. “One of what guys?”

“The ones I hex—“

“So!” You cut Jimin off suddenly, standing directly in front of Jungkook now, chest nearly touching his that his breath caught in his throat, “What are your plans for the night? Are we taking too much of your time? I’m sure it was a long drive out.”

“Is this a subtle way of saying it’s about time we leave?” Jungkook asked with an amused smile, a bit taken back by how flustered you seem to be. There was something charming about you, a complete stranger, and it keeps drawing him in. He finds you physically attractive in a way he’s never found anyone like before. He thinks you dress differently, you present yourself differently, you remind him of a fairy or some mythological creature—just enchanting… and it makes him feel ridiculous.

Why does he feel this way toward you?

“I—That’s not h-how I meant it,” you shook your head, blush running through your cheeks, “I just assumed you probably had more important things to do.”

“And what if I said this was the important thing for today?” He asked with a tilt of his head, not caring much for his friend who was busy looking at all the crystals or the guy behind the counter who pretended not to listen, “Talking to you.”

This time around he raised a smile from you, “It would be flattering, but I know it’s not.”

He smiled, “What if it was?”

You didn’t hesitate to look into his eyes despite the way he seemed to close the distance between you like you were the only two in the shop, “It’s not.”

“Why don’t you think so?” He asked, attempting to rest his arm on the counter only for him to hit Coal instead, awkwardly jumping back and watching you smile with amusement.

“Because it would be so sad to hold a mere occurrence with me, a complete stranger, with such high importance.” The tone you said it in sounded cute, like you were genuinely pitying him for living such a boring life even if that wasn’t the case.

It took Jungkook a second to process your response and he couldn’t go any further. It was very clear you didn’t want him around anymore and you already rejected his proposal to go out. He did not want to seem like a pushy person and he has to just accept that you’re simply not interested. Does it make sense to him? No. He’s a catch, every girl tends to want him—but he won’t push any further.

He swears.

“I guess we’ll get going then and let you get back to work,” Jungkook couldn’t help but look back down at your patterned skirt or pretty neck adorned with handmade jewelry, “Maybe next time I’ll buy something.”

“Next time?” You asked as he grabbed the back of Hoseok’s shirt, dragging him behind toward the front door. Jungkook smirked, “Yeah! I mean… this can’t possibly be the end, right?”

“Well, I didn’t think anything here would pique your interest,” you said looking around at the dangling gold stars and the hanging tapestries stuck to the ceiling.

“On the contrary,” he practically mimicked your form of speech as he shoved Hobi out the door, “My interest has been piqued. I’ll see you around?”

You wrapped your cardigan around yourself more snugly, feet finally growing cold under the flooring and appearing more flustered, “I guess so.”

He smiled, waving goodbye as he fought off Hoseok who nearly jumped over him to bid his own farewell.

“Oh, he’s smitten,” Jimin laughed the second the door shut with the chime of the bell above it. It made you roll your eyes almost instantly, “He’ll get over it. He seems like a flirt.”

“Mhm, and he’s flirting with you,” Jimin said, watching you with amusement, “Whatever shall you do?”

“What I always do,” you told him matter-of-factly, “Ignore.”

Jimin looked down at the book of moon magic before him, pretending to skim through it, “Like you always do? And how’s that working out for your love life.”

“Listen to yourself, you love witch,” you said with a groan, lifting a finger to slide the book away from him without touching it, “He’s a stranger.”

“Don’t they always start out that way?” Invincible hands opened the book for him as it slid across the counter till it was directly in front of him again and he resumed to read.

Jimin shrugged, “I’m just saying. It wouldn’t kill you to open up to someone.”

“It would probably kill them.”

“Yeah, but there are plenty of fish in the sea and way too many men in the world.”

The sky was a shade between blue and gray, and every now and then he could feel a rare drop of water fall on him as it threatened to sprinkle. The autumn leaves crunched under his thick shoes as he crossed the lawn of the courtyard on his way to his next class—running behind only a little.

You would think being in his last semester of schooling would make him have his shit together but it really only seems to make his life a bigger mess than before. It’s like it hasn’t clicked in his mind yet how close he is to the end and he still wants to spend his weekends getting drunk at parties and showing up to Monday morning lectures way too late.

“Jungkook!”

To be honest, he doesn’t ever want to admit it but his life is a hot mess. He’s all over the place—all the time. He gets into bad situations with girls and he does awful in school. He’s not that great at work and he struggles to focus on anything but he doesn’t know what to do.

The night of the party was a bit of a wake up call to him. Obviously he hadn’t changed yet but… he got his shit stolen and his car broke down in the same night. That’s enough drama to get a man thinking about his life choices. He needs to make changes but he doesn’t know how. How does he give up the parties and the drinking so he could take things more seriously?

“Jungkook!”

“Huh?” He slipped an AirPod out of his ear as he turned around in search of who called for him. About a foot or so away from him stood a girl, short blonde hair, painted red lips and Chanel jewelry on. She was the sort of attractive that anyone walking past might turn and stare but he just seemed to tilt his head with curiosity.

“We met at the club a few weeks ago, remember?” She asked, looking up at him with flirty eyes, “You bought me a drink?”

“I did?” Jungkook asked, letting his eyes trail down her head to her body and so on, “What’s up?”

“Oh, uh, I was wondering if you were busy today? I’ve seen you around campus and I still owe you for the drink so how about some coffee?” She asked running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m good but thanks,” Jungkook said, already attempting to walk away. He’s late for his lecture and he’s sure the professor won’t bother opening the door for him so he’s better off going to the library until his next class. He’s got two more lectures and then he’ll work tonight so there’s no time to go out with a girl he doesn’t even remember the name of.

“Wait! I just… yknow. I just want to say thank you for the drink,” she follows after him, “One cup won’t hurt anyone, right?”

He looked back down at her with a sigh. She really was cute and his usual type but he’s not interested. Sure he has about two hours before his next lecture but does he really want to waste that time on some girl he met while drunk [that he most likely only approached because he wanted to hook up with her?].

“Alright, can I pick the place?” Jungkook asked suddenly, watching the girls eyes widen happily as she eagerly nodded her head.

Jungkook had no idea why he agreed or where he even planned on taking her, he just knew it was a bit far but familiar—to him, at least.

He didn’t give her much room to come up with anything either before they were catching a bus to the other side of town where the buildings looked older and more fit for the fall season with the dead leaves and puddles in the dark pavement. Scarlet&Sage looked surprisingly busy today with customers going in and out without stop.

He only knew this because the coffee shop he was currently at was right across the street from it. Please do not ask him how this came about… he’s not sure. He just remembers seeing the cafè the last time he came over here and when the blonde girl asked for coffee it was the first place that came to mind. It had absolutely nothing to do with the whimsical character he’s encountered in the small shop of wonders.

“So, do you like the coffee here?” The blonde asked as they sat at a small round table near the large window that gave him the perfect view of the outside.

“It’s alright,” Jungkook mumbled, looking down at his cup wondering what you might be doing.

It’s not that he was weirdly obsessed or anything. He was just mildly interested.

Mildly.

His attention should be on the blonde but he couldn’t even remember her name and he was too embarrassed to ask. He talks to a lot of girls like her… he’s hooked up with a lot of girls like her and sometimes they all start to blend and he just can’t pick them apart. As stated, the blonde is hot, he’s not going to deny that and clearly he had approached her at some club for that reason but right now she just seems so bland.

It’s become a bit of a problem of his and he’s beginning to notice it. Jungkook did not consider himself a player by any means but he would be lying if he said he didn’t date a lot of girls. That’s why right now that he’s with some random girl who invited him to coffee, he couldn’t really think of her. He only agreed as an excuse to come to this side of town in hopes of stopping by the shop but now he’s stuck here with a stranger while you’re across the street doing who knows what.

The shop had been busy at open but once the rush had gone, things had visibly slowed down for the two witches. Jimin was bored to death, arguing with Coal over the dumbest of things and you tried busying yourself with useless flicks of your finger to turn on and off all the candles on the counter. Crystals by Stevie Nicks played from a small boombox tucked into a bookshelf and the cold autumn day dragged by too slow for your liking.

It’s not that you expect an exciting day on the regular but ever since you met those two strangers one October night, you couldn’t help but wonder if you would have more occurrences like that. When Jungkook sent the gift and flowers it was a nice surprise that brightened your day and when he and Hoseok popped in a few days later… well that also brought a sense of warmth. It couldn’t possibly be because you were interested in seeing Jungkook again despite how obviously handsome he was.

You do not allow yourself to fall in love or even gain a small crush toward anyone when you know the repercussions. Jimin could mock you for it all he wants but the curse has proven to be true time and time in your line of witches and you do not want anyone to fall victim to it because you foolishly allowed yourself to like someone.

Sure, deep down you’re a romantic but aren’t most people? Don’t most people wish to meet that one person that makes their heart race or their smile widen? Someone they find comfort in without even realizing it at first but once you do you don’t ever want to leave their arms? Isn’t that what everyone wishes even when they don’t know it? Even the most anti-romantic individual must at some point crave the intimacy that comes with finding the one they love.

It’s inevitable to feel this way but you can’t act upon any feelings you might have toward someone—you shouldn’t, and therefore you remain single despite something inside you wishing to change that. It’s for the best, honestly and maybe if you wish strong enough… you’ll never have to see Jungkook again because despite not knowing him at all… you can’t help but think about him.

“Y/n, I have a favor to ask,” Jimin said with a sigh as he joined you at the counter, “And there was nobody else I could think to ask this of aside from my most beautiful celestially whimsical best friend.”

The corners of your lips curved upward, rolling your eyes playfully as you waited for him to go on and just say it. His eyes met yours and with an adorable pout he asked, “Do you mind running to the post office for me? I’ve got a palm reading appointment in ten.”

“Oh, I suppose I could make a quick run,” you told him with a dramatic sigh, fighting back a smile when he squeezed your face in his hands. “I absolutely adore you, you beautiful witch.”

Jimin left to retrieve two white envelopes he needed you to drop off and you took them happily, heading to the door when you turned back to look at him, “Remind how amazing I am for doing the smallest of tasks for you.”

“Undeniably amazing.”

The coffee at the cafe was not memorable at all, in fact, Jungkook doesn’t know if he would ever come back again but deep down he knows he will, even if it’s just an excuse to stare at Scarlet&Sage. He’s ashamed to admit he couldn’t even pretend to act interested in what the blonde said and at some point she must’ve realized that because they sat together in silence. Her eyes wandered around the cafe while his focused on the brick storefront of your shop, wondering if he should stop by and say hello or not.

When the door seemed to open from the inside, he could physically feel his heart race and soon enough… you were there standing in a dark blue velvet slip dress with brown leather boots and golden star clips in your hair, shivering slightly with the cold and he acted before he could think.

“I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said abruptly, raising to his feet, not bothering to even look back at the blonde when she called his name and left the shop with all his things.

“Y/n!”

You read the sending addresses on the envelopes, smiling when you realized Jimin was sending this to a good friend of yours. At first, you didn’t hear the call of your name. If anything made you stop, it was the sudden howl of wind that had a stream of fallen leaves circling around you, following the sight of them until you turned back to find the one person you had been thinking about standing there before you.

“Jungkook?” You couldn’t hide the look of pleasant surprise on your face as you gave him a moment to catch up to you, “Did you trim your hair?”

That made him pause for a moment as he ran his fingers through the short black hair, shy smile on his face, “I did. Does it look bad?”

He didn’t ask where you were going when he began to walk alongside you. You shook your head, “I like it. It suits you, but I’m sure everything does, Dumbledore.”

“Will you ever let that go?” He asked slightly embarrassed by the worst night of his life and how strangely it was the reason the two of you met.

“Oh, of course,” you said, unable to catch the playful tone in his voice, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I didn—you didn—I just meant…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um… so what are you doing?”

“I’m running an errand for Jimin,” you told him casually, turning the corner of the block with him at your side, “And what about you?”

“I wanted to try the coffee place across the street from you. I missed a class today and had time so…” Jungkook bit his lip wondering what more to say.

“The coffee is not good,” you said and he smiled. “It isn’t.”

“So… Y/n, I know last time you said it wasn’t a good idea but… I don’t know, I was wondering if maybe we could still try and get dinner. I don’t mean to push bu—“

“Why?” You asked suddenly, big sparkly eyes staring at him that he felt his breath hitch when the two of you stopped in front of the post office. He had to blink away the shock a few times before he was able to snap back into reality. Jungkook reached for the door, hearing the sound of bells above as he let you brush past him and head inside.

Why? What did you mean why? Did you find it strange that he wanted to go out with you? Did you think he had no valid reason to seek you out? Did he?

You left his side to drop the envelopes down the shoot before returning to him with a soft hum, singing some indie song in your head, thanking him when he held the door open for you again.

“I wish I could give you a million reasons as to why but I can’t,” Jungkook told you honestly, watching the way you seemed to shiver in the cold again. You forgot a cardigan or shawl and were sincerely regretting it now. He didn’t hesitate to take off his crewneck, offering it to you despite the cold biting his skin now and he finished his thoughts, “I only have one, Y/n and I think it’s fairly simple. I want to get to know you because I find you beautiful and interesting and you make me curious.”

“A lot of people are beautiful and interesting,” you tried to brush him off despite the sudden warmth running through your veins as you became overwhelmed by the lingering scent of his cologne on the sweater.

“But not like you,” he said and he surprised himself. When has he ever called someone beautiful and mean it? Another rustle of wind carried dead leaves in the air, this time circling around the two of you and you couldn’t help but watch one get caught in his hair.

“I don’t get you,” you admitted, walking a bit faster toward the shop now, “We’re practically strangers still and I’ve said no once so… yknow… I mean… wouldn’t you have other girls to try? Probably prettier ones and more outgoing so really there’s no need to try and go out with me when I’m sure you have better options out there with people you’re much closer to.”

Jungkook scoffed, a small smirk on his face, “I didn't think there was anything to get. I… well… yes, I do know others who I could ask but I’m not interested in any of them, only you.”

Was it that obvious that he had become a bit of a player? A romantic who jumped into relationships or flings for the adrenaline they brought? Could you read that on his face? With the way you turned to look into his eyes, he wondered if that really was the case.

You shouldn’t involve yourself with him.

It’ll only complicate things.

He seems to be a flirt, he could get anyone he wants so why is he stuck on you?

You’re already a bit interested in him too and that’s dangerous but when you look at his neck and see the necklace you gave him, you felt happy—not good.

“I’m a witch.”

Jungkook chuckled suddenly, unable to tell if you were trying to change the mood or scare him off, “Good thing it’s October and it’s the Season of the Witch.”

He doesn’t believe you, obviously—or well, not to the extent that you mean. It’s not a secret you like the craft but he doesn’t expect you to have a flying broomstick lying around.

“It’s the truth, Jungkook,” you told him as you neared the shop, “And that means I’m not good for you.”

“Why? Because you have a black cat and love crystals?” Jungkook joked lightheartedly.

“No. Because I have a curse to those who like me and it could really put them in danger,” you said and for a second he seemed to falter… genuinely wondering if you were being serious or not. He doesn’t believe in magic or curses like you’ve convinced Hobi to but it was an odd thing to say… maybe.

Maybe it wasn’t odd at all considering your lifestyle choice but…

But…

No.

You can’t just suddenly tell him that and expect him to believe it. It’s one thing to be fascinated by it all and open a store about it and actually—

Magic isn’t real.

Curses aren’t real.

“So you reject me because of a curse?” He asked, studying you closely to see how he would react. You didn’t reject him because you were uninterested, but because you believe you’re cursed? He knew you were a bit odd when he first met you but to this extent? And to know it hadn’t scared him back to the blonde who was surely already visiting Jimin to hex him. “And not because you want nothing to do with me?”

You bit your lip, “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said, “Y/n, curses only have power if you believe in them and I don’t.”

Your eyes widened, unsure if you should be offended by his utter blindness to the magical or amazed by his clear mindset. What were you going on about? Did you expect him to run away when you said? Had you hoped he would? Would that have made it easier to not think about him? Maybe he just doesn’t fully believe you yet. Magic is a hard thing for everyone to accept.

People don’t want to believe what they can’t see.

“I should head inside now,” you told him quietly and you could visibly see the way he dejected, with his shoulders drooping, “And there’s something sticking out of your pocket.”

Jungkook barely had a second to process what you said before you were leaving him alone outside with his eyebrows furrowed as he felt around his black jeans with confusion.

His gaze softened with curiosity as he pulled out a piece of folded parchment paper from his pocket and opened it hurriedly.

‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you but here’s my number. xxx-xxx-xxxx — Y/n ☽’

Despite the utter confusion he felt on how you managed to put this note in his pocket, he felt more happy to know you’re opening yourself to him. He could worry about the strangeness of this later when it doesn’t feel like he’s on cloud 9 from simply getting a girls number.

“Jungkook!”

He bit the insides of his cheeks to hide a growing smile as he stuffed the paper back in his pocket, looking up with surprise as the blonde came up to him, “What happened? You suddenly left with some weirdo an—“

“I’m not interested,” Jungkook rushed out, “I’m so sorry, I seriously am but I can’t even remember your name and I’ve been too embarrassed to ask. You seem very nice and I’m sure I would’ve loved to get to know you but… but I want to pursue something with someone else. She’s a witch, apparently, which I find it hard to believe but she’s given me this note and I have no idea when she managed to give it to me without me knowing but it’s all so interesting and I don’t think I’ve ever felt like this before over something so sm—“

“Asshole,” the girl gave him a small shove, cutting off his rant and stormed away from him. He watched her go with a bit of pity because she was right. He was an asshole… for taking her invitation and using it to meet you. For leading other girls on and leaving them when he was bored. For wasting their time and he swears he does feel awful now.

He wants to be different and he’s wondering if his racing heart for you would be the start.

Even with the shove the blonde had given him, he couldn’t help but smile and pull out the paper again to read over the note as many times as necessary just to remember today.

And so it began despite the countless amount of times you told yourself not to fall for anyone. It was hard when he was texting you as often as he could.

jungkook: I still want to kno how u got the note in my pocket

y/n: with magic, silly

jungkook: like a magician’s?

y/n: no :/

y/n: like a witch’s.

jungkook: …

jungkook: why are u so cute

y/n: glamour magic?

“Who’s got you smiling like that?” Jungkook’s friend asked one day as they met up at the campus library. He looked up at Taehyung who sat down across from him on some comfortable lounge chairs, already getting his laptop out.

“Her name’s Y/n,” Jungkook sat up, “She’s a bit strange and unusual—but in a good way!”

Taehyung’s brows furrowed, “Cool, I guess. Anyway, are you coming this weekend?”

“Where to?” He asked, biting his lip as he thought of what to say back.

jungkook: or maybe that’s just how u are

y/n: maybe ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა but I’m dangerous

“Joon’s Halloween party,” Taehyung said, watching his friend smile before quickly typing.

jungkook: right…

jungkook: bc of the curse?

y/n: yeah

jungkook: nothing has happened to me yet

“Who?” Jungkook asked absentmindedly as he looked up for a mere second.

“Who?! Boy, don’t play with me. Namjoon. Kim Namjoon, big meaty buff Namjoon, our friend?” Taehyung scoffed with a laugh. Jungkook chuckled, “Oh right. Um… maybe.”

y/n: that’s bc we haven’t gone out

jungkook: so let’s change that and test the theory

jungkook: what r u doing tonight?

“I’ve invited some girls to meet us there, super hot, trust me you’ll like em,” Taehyung said despite how obvious Jungkook’s interest in you seemed. He had literally just brought you up and yet Taehyung didn’t seem to think that was going to stop Jungkook from wanting to meet other girls.

“Yeah…” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, leg bouncing anxiously as he waited for you to answer, “I’m not really interested.”

Taehyung audibly laughed, not believing his friend as he opened his laptop to do some work. Jungkook narrowed his eyes at him, “I’m serious. I’m talking to someone right now.”

“I mean… are you bringing her this weekend?” Taehyung asked, making Jungkook shrug his shoulders. “I’m not sure Y/n would want to go.”

y/n: it’s a full moon tonight

y/n: but I’m free

jungkook: want to go out for dinner?

y/n: okay ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

The smile that grew on his face from your text nearly slipped when Taehyung spoke up, “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. Come on man, it’s not like you’re dating anyone and if so when has that ever stopped you from a good time?”

“I’m not saying I won’t go, but I’m saying I don’t want to talk to any other girls, man,” Jungkook said with a sigh as he checked the time on his screen, “Alright, I’ve got to get ready.”

“Why? You don’t work till later, right?” Taehyung asked while watching his friend gather his things to leave. Jungkook nodded, “Yeah but I’ve got plans after so I have to get ready now. I’ll see you this weekend?”

Taehyung gave up on his friend and waved him off with a dismissed goodbye.

“A date?!” Jimin nearly yelled into your ear as the two of you watered the plants in the greenhouse, “You have a date tonight?!”

“No,” you shook your head, “It's not like that… Jungkook and I are just getting dinner.”

“As a date,” Jimin said with a roll of his eyes, “There’s no point denying it, Y/n. I will admit he’s not the type I thought you would go for but I support it fully if it means you’ll finally let someone in.”

“Why are you being so dramatic?” You asked, “I’m… I only agreed to dinner because he asked and I didn’t want to reject him again. Once he’s gotten. What he wants I’m sure he’ll move on to the next.”

“Y/n,” Jimin’s tone was stronger than usual, “I don’t believe that. Even if Jungkook seems to be the type… he can clearly tell there’s something about you that makes things worthwhile. Stop doubting it and just allow yourself to go out with someone.”

Just as you were about to try and brush this off with an excuse that you had to leave, Coal came prancing in holding the small skeleton fish Jungkook bought for him and set it before you to play.

When Jungkook arrived in front of the shop, he’s not sure what he expected. You looked as pretty as usual in a brown floral maxi dress and a thin lace cardigan and shimmer in your hair. You always looked pretty to him, natural and whimsical, ethereal. He’s not sure why he feels this way but he does and he likes the feeling.

“Hi,” Jungkook felt breathless as he held the car door open for you, unsure why he felt nervous at all. He’s been on hundreds of dinner dates, this was nothing new for him so why were his hands growing clammy?

“You’re nervous?” You asked, finger brushing against the front of his white shirt. A smile came to his face, “Maybe.”

“Why?” You asked even as your own heart raced with nerves.

“Honestly…” Jungkook bit his lip, waiting at your door, “I don’t know, you make me nervous.”

“Is that good or bad?” You asked.

“Good, I think,” Jungkook smiled as he shut the car door and rounded to his side.

He had no reason to be nervous, really, Jungkook was into you and he had a feeling you were into him too. Why else would you have agreed? Yes, you’re a bit strange and he still doesn’t understand what you mean by curse or how you got the note in his pocket but that doesn’t scare him. Why doesn’t that scare him?

Why did he suddenly feel like dinner wasn’t enough? He always had dinner dates. It was always his go-to first date idea.

You stared out the window as he started the car, completely unaware of his growing panic at the realization. You were more focused on the glowing moon than him and yet the silence in the car didn’t bother him. Usually, whoever he was with would talk his ear off but you were quiet right now. Were you growing bored of him before you gave him a chance to open himself up to you? Would you think the dinner reservation he set for tonight would be too cliché? You don’t seem like a 5-star restaurant date. You don’t seem like the type to care and yet he blindly set the date up in the same manner he did every other girl he went out with.

The thought alone was making him antsy and it was hard to miss the way his finger tapped against the steering wheel as he drove off.

“So, what restaurant are we going to?” You asked in a gentle voice, in hopes that maybe he wouldn’t seem so quiet. The question made him bite his lip, playing with his lip ring as his brows furrowed in thought, “I—um…”

His hands were clammy.

You blinked away your confusion, eyes dropping down to your lap as you asked, “Do you not want to do this anymore?”

“No! I mean… I—I want to but uh,” Jungkook stopped at a red light, “I um…”

How does he tell you what he had planned tonight was the same thing he always did whenever he went on a date with a random girl?

How does he tell you that’s not what he wants for you?

“It’s a full moon tonight?” Jungkook asked suddenly, staring out his tinted windshield. You merely nodded your head silently.

“Change of plans then,” he mumbled to himself, turning on his blinker and when the light turned green he took a completely different route from that of the restaurant. You wanted to question him, wondering if he was taking you back home but after a while the city lights grew fewer and fewer and the hills got bigger and bigger.

Jungkook drove a short distance out of the city where large meadows began to cover fields and fields of hills. He pulled the car to the side of the road and without question he got out, opening the trunk first and you grew worried.

“Is this the plot twist? You drive me out of the city to plan my murder?” You jokingly asked as you got out of the car and joined his side. He rummaged through paper bags pulling out water bottles and small snack bags he must’ve bought a while ago. He grabbed an old blanket he tossed back there after crashing at Namjoon’s place and asked you to walk with him.

“No, it’s just,” Jungkook took a deep breath, trudging through the thick grass in the dark night with only the full moon and stars eliminating his way, “I want to do things differently with you. I wanted to get dinner, yes, but… but it’s a full moon, Y/n. Do you really want to spend your night indoors where you can’t even see it?”

He thought back to the star clips in your hair that shimmered like the sparkles in your eyes. The way you seemed to love the spirituality of life and he didn’t even have to know you well enough to know how in tune you are with nature. One look at you told him everything he needed to know and despite the cold autumn night… he knew you preferred it over wherever he planned on taking you.

“I…” you bit your lip nervously, following after him into the clear meadow surrounded by hills and a single road where the car had been parked, “I’m sorry but I don’t understand.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook stopped to look at you, “I don't know how to explain it but you feel different to me. Since the first night we met, all I could think about was you and I don’t want to ruin the first chance you’ve given me to get to know you by doing the same thing I do every time. I want to do something that would be fun, maybe, different and more to your liking. I want to know why you brought up the moon tonight or why you talk about curses and glamours and why you enjoy the smell of incense. I want to know how the note got in my pocket and how you seem to communicate with Coal like you could truly understand him. The strangeness of it all fascinates me and sitting in a stuffy restaurant eating subpar food won’t tell me anything about you besides that you let me take you on a boring date.”

“You’re a bit strange,” you confessed, a smile growing on your face as small fireflies fill the meadow, “But I like it.”

Jungkook extended the blanket on the ground, throwing the things onto it before collapsing on his side waiting for you to join him. You sat down tucking your dress under your legs and moved to lay on your back, the sound of crickets somewhere off in the distance as you stared up at the sky.

Usually, Jungkook picked the noisiest of places possible so that he wouldn’t have to have his full attention on whoever he was dining with. If the conversation got boring he could always find somewhere else to focus before he would finally just invite him to his bed. Right now he’s got nowhere else to look aside from the night sky and you.

“Do you meditate?” You asked.

“No,” Jungkook said, turning on his back with an arm tucked under his head and the other on the blanket, “But I can try.”

“Okay, take even breaths and try to clear your mind,” you told him as you let your eyes close for a moment, “The full moon is a time to let go and welcome new energy in your life by reflecting on what you need to release.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything as he tried to listen to you, tried to visualize what he would like to let go. What did he need to reflect on?

Was it his grades? His shitty part time job at the convenience store? His past mistakes in relationships?

“Listen to the sounds around you, let them help you find inner peace,” you whispered with the wind catching his breath, small sounds of nature here and there, “Visualize your dreams, your reflections. Find your release.”

It’s his last semester of school and yet he misses class when he’s late. He agrees to go out with girls he has no real intention of getting to know and he puts himself in messy situations that drag his friends along too.

He’s tired of acting the same way he did when he was younger—never took responsibility and was always careless in his actions. Even the other when he went out with the blonde but not because he wanted her, but because he could use her as an excuse to himself to come seek you out. He disregarded her feelings.

When Taehyung approached him about the girls he wanted Jungkook to meet, he expect Jungkook to lie about seeing them even when he was interested in you because that’s what Jungkook usually did.

How does he change his ways?

Tonight he wants to release his toxic patterns.

He wants to embrace change and welcome the shift of energy you brought him. He wants to form deeper connections with those around him and open himself up to new possibilities, no matter how strange.

“Y/n,” Jungkook’s voice came out raspy as his hand felt around the blanket blindly until your fingers brushed against his and he was going to hold onto them, “How do you do it?”

“Do what?” You asked him, letting him hold your hand, ignoring the sudden tingle up your arm. His eyes opened, “How do you make me want to find comfort in you when you’re essentially still a stranger to me?”

“I’m not sure I know what you mean,” you said.

“Tell me about the curse,” Jungkook couldn’t believe he was saying it. It was one thing to go along with the joke over text but now that he’s lying here with you, he’s curious.

“Really?” You asked looking at him, watching him nod his head making you sigh, “Why? You don’t believe in it anyway.”

“But you do,” he said truthfully, “And I want to see what makes you believe in i—“

His words slowed down as he watched a butterfly land on your fingertip as if you called for it yourself. He’s not sure if it meant anything or if it was just the utter fascination he had of you but he wanted to kiss you. It had nothing to do with getting you in his bed tonight and everything to do with just feeling you and when he raised his finger to touch yours, he took your hand and pulled you toward him.

You didn’t pull back like he thought you might, and before he could really process it, you were leaning into him. Jungkook placed a hand on your jaw, guiding your lips to his until finally, the softest touch made his insides melt. You kissed him gently, scared almost and his face fit perfectly between your hands as he hovered over you, eyes closed and warm to the touch.

Jungkook felt as if something burst inside him and he just wanted to chase that feeling with your kisses, unable to help himself from getting lost in the moment. He felt a bit numb to his surroundings, the only feeling he had was your lips on his and your tongue running along his with need. His breath was becoming short and the soft push of your hand on his shoulder had him pulling back reluctantly.

“You’re a good kisser,” you whispered against his lips and he couldn’t help but break into a smile, pecking your lips one last time before letting his head drop against your chest.

“It’s late,” he said with a small sigh as he looked up at you, finding your eyes stuck on the full moon.

You looked down at him and he could practically see the way you glowed underneath him.

He didn’t believe in magic or witches but, how else would he explain this feeling of being under a love spell?

And if he allowed himself to believe in love spells then did he have to believe in curses too?

“Now what do you mean you’re not coming tonight?” His friend asked, sporting Jungkook as he did a set of bench presses.

“I don’t know if I’ll make it,” Jungkook answered, counting how many he did, “I’ve got plans with Y/n.”

“And what? She won’t let you out for one night?” Namjoon asked with a slight roll of his eyes as Jungkook set the bar back in place and sat up with deep breaths, “She can’t come with us?”

“It’s not like that,” he shook his head no, “I haven’t even mentioned it to her.”

Namjoon couldn’t help but scoff as he took Jungkook’s place, “Why not? Would she be mad if you told her that you were going out with friends, for fucks sake?”

“What? No, No, Y/n’s not like that,” Jungkook was getting annoyed with his friend’s assumptions, “But I already talked about this with Taehyung. I’m not interested in partying right now or anything. I just wanna… yknow, chill?”

“You don’t even sound like yourself,” Namjoon said with a laugh, deciding to not push any further, “But whatever, I get it.”

“Get what?” Jungkook watched him move the bar to begin his set.

“You’re talking to someone,” Namjoon said with baited breath, “You've gotta be on your best behavior.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes, “It’s not like I’m holding myself back. If I wanted to go out, I would.”

He’s being honest. You’re not keeping him from anything and it’s not like he was forcing himself to be someone he’s not but this wasn’t that serious. Yes, he had a tendency to go out with his friends every weekend and lately that’s declined but it’s not because of you necessarily. He’s just realized he’s way too exhausted these days to exert this much energy on a night he would regret by morning. He made terrible decisions and he’s tired of getting himself in trouble because of them.

“Just say the word and we can leave whenever you want,” Jungkook spoke into your ear as you looked around at everyone surrounding you. It was loud and packed with people in costumes, all looking to spend a fun night out celebrating Halloween. You’ll admit, it’s a bit out of your element but you’ll learn to adapt. It will just take some adjustment but the energy seems high and it might be more fun than staying at the shop to hand out candy all night.

“I’m fine,” you assured him, letting him place a hand on your lower back to lead you to the bar. Tonight was the first time you’ll be meeting Jungkook’s friend but you don’t feel nervous. If anything, he seemed more nervous than you and you weren’t sure how to feel about that. Since your first date the two of you have really leveled up whatever has been brewing between you since the night you met.

You’ve been spending more time together but it usually consists of Jungkook visiting you or texting all day. You haven’t had a chance to see more of him yet— as it feels like he’s been trying to accommodate you—so you’re curious to see how the night plays out with him and his friends.

“Look who finally decided to show up!” A loud voice boomed from the bar where you could see a familiar face smile at you. Hoseok waved happily at you as Jungkook led you to him and the others who watched you curiously. Hoseok ditched the hockey player costume for simple skull makeup and a leather jacket.

“There was a line to get in,” Jungkook admitted, slipping his hand in yours and pulling you forward, “What do you want to drink?”

“Surprise me,” you said with a smile. Jungkook ordered something on your behalf before turning to his other friends, “Everyone this is Y/n.”

“Jungkook didn’t do you any justice,” Taehyung said with a curious tilt of his head, “You’re way prettier than he said.”

“Oh no, what else has he said about me?” You asked with a soft tone that had both Taehyung and Namjoon blinking in surprise.

“Um, well…. A lot of things, neither one of them have shut up since they met you,” Namjoon confessed, looking to Hoseok who seemed to also think highly of you.

“Yes, I think Y/n put a spell on me,” Jungkook teased, handing you a bluish lavender drink and sending you a wink. He, of course, still felt nervous considering this is the first time he’s introducing you to his friends. It’s not that he’s embarrassed of you or anything but he’s definitely worried about what his friends would say to you. Not that long ago, Taehyung tried getting Jungkook to lie to you just because he didn’t care for how serious Jungkook felt about you. Now, Taehyung is here talking to you and Jungkook is worried he might say something he shouldn't.

Honestly, when the night started he didn’t expect you to want to come out. Namjoon had been bugging him all day about it and he had full intentions of not going out so he could spend the night handing out candy with you but… It’s like you have a sixth sense and when you asked him if he had any other plans, he told you what he was invited to and asked you to come along. He full heartedly thought you would say no because you don’t seem like the type to come out drinking but for some reason you agreed and he was happy with that.

Of course he was nervous to introduce you to the others but when he looked over at you and found you smiling softly, trying your hardest to be in the moment, he was grateful. His friends didn’t talk bad about him to you despite the occasional teasing and you didn’t seem uncomfortable by it. Every now and then he would run his thumb against your hip to remind you he’s there but mostly, he just listened.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” you said after a while. Taehyung had asked you question after question about the shop or the spell jar you made Hoseok and you indulged him in it all.

“Hm?” Jungkook fixed the tilt in your witch’s hat, “I’m just listening.”

“Are you having fun?” You asked letting his arm encircle your waist until you faced him. He looked at his friends who managed to grab the attention of some girls nearby and were in deep conversation with them.

His shoulders lifted in a shrug, “It’s alright.”

Your nose scrunched up in thought as you looked away from him, he kept you close trying to get you to look back at him, “I mean… yeah it’s fun but it’s loud and hot and… I don’t know, I kinda want it to just be us.”

“Just us?”

“Yeah, my friends have been talking to you all night,” he said it like it was a secret, “And Joon said he wanted me here so I came but now I’m really in the mood for us to leave—unless you want to stay.”

“Are you trying to ditch out on us?” Hoseok put an arm around his shoulders, dragging him into his side, “You barely come out anymore and now you’ve got Y/n here so there’s no reason to not want to party. It’s Halloween!”

“I know, but,” Jungkook played with his lip ring as he smiled lazily, “You’ve been taking all of my girl’s attention and I’m tired of sharing.”

The words slipped out but he didn’t regret them, even when you looked up at him curiously. He expected some sort of response from you but you merely smiled and shrugged like you weren’t apart of this exchange so when Namjoon asked what was up, Jungkook was honest.

“I think we’re calling it a night,” he had your hand in his, pulling into him as he looked at his friends and whatever girls they were with, “But you guys have fun.”

“That’s it?” Taehyung asked, looking at you, “Y/n, you don’t want to go to another bar?”

Jungkook released a small sigh as he looked down at you. He would love to leave but if you wanted to stay and maybe go to a few more places before ending the night… he’d do it but only because it’s what you want.

“I miss my cat,” you said it so casually that the others couldn’t understand it as an answer at first until you were waving goodbye, happy you met them but ready to go.

You didn’t talk much in the car and Jungkook drove carefully taking you back to the shop that was connected to your home. He’s not sure if you were tired or distracted but you stared out the window chasing the moon through the city. At one point he glanced over and found you nipping at your bottom lip with worry but he tried not to overthink it. The night had been good and you got along with his friends so there wasn’t anything he would change but the silence made him worry.

The car pulled up in front of the lantern lit shop and he looked at you with nerves waiting to see how you would Halloween. It was late but there were still a few people in costumes wandering around and too early to really call it a night. You silently pushed open the door, ready to leave when you sighed, “Jungkook.”

He didn’t have to say anything for you to know he’s listening and you turned to him, “Earlier you called me—“

My girl.

“I know,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I just meant… I—I don’t know. Was it corny?”

A small laugh left your lips at his sudden question and decided to tease, “Just a little.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was worried about,” Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle, “I was trying to sound cool and…”

“Failed?”

“Whoa,” he held a hand to his chest, “I wouldn’t go that far.” The car was still on but he made no move to leave and neither did you. Instead, he just looked at you sitting half in his car with the door open, “You didn’t like it?”

“Um, it’s not that but,” you bit your lip in thought, “I’m just worried of your intentions.”

“With you?” He asked quietly, watching you nod your head shyly and he sighed, “You don’t know if it’s worth it.”

It sounded like a statement and he knew he was right. You were worried about the curse, he knew you well enough to know that but he doesn’t care. He wants to go out with you and some stupid age old curse isn’t going to change his mind. He understands that you believe it so he won’t look down on it but he wants to be with you.

“What if I said it was?” Jungkook asked with genuine curiosity, “It’d be the first time I get cursed by a witch.”

He meant the last part as a joke and it got you to smile so he was more comfortable to tease, “Maybe I’ll turn into a cat so Coal and I could be friends.”

“He doesn’t like having friends,” You said with a smile and he could practically see your walls crumble so he kept going.

“That’s a shame because I have a dog and he’s the friendliest boy you’ll ever meet,” Jungkook said with a defeated sigh.

“I’m warning you,” you said but he smiled. “I’ve been warned.”

“I won't be upset if you don’t want to see me anymore. I’m a bit weird, yknow?” You seemed to ask, already beginning to warm up to the idea and it was enough to give him hope.

“I would have never guessed,” he said as he twisted a silver star charm you had styled in your hair, leaning closer and closer till his face was only a couple centimeters away, “And if you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working—I can wake up with a bald head of hair tomorrow and I’ll be fine with it as long as I get to talk to you again.”

“So, do you want to come up then?” You asked and you didn’t have to say it twice for him to be powering off the engine so he could follow you inside.

For the first time ever, he disappeared behind the celestial tapestry that led up to your front door, trying to look around in the darkness. You liked rich shades of purple and blue. You liked stars and sheer drapes on your ceilings. You liked stain glass lamp shades and big soft rugs. Your house was like a whimsigoth cottage in the city and your bedroom was everything he imagined it to be even in the dark.

He expected you to turn the lights or something but instead you seemed to snap a finger before a couple candles lit up the bedroom and he was lost in wonder. It felt like he was enjoying a cozy night in the woods, like he just rested his head on your lap and listen to you read his palm.

“Sorry, it’s a bit messy,” you shoved a couple books aside and looked around the bedroom, “Is there anything I can get you.”

Jungkook shook his head, deciding to go through your vinyls with curiosity, smiling whenever he saw a vinyl with the word ‘witch’ in the title. You explained to him that it was all Jimin’s doing because he found it funny to buy you every vinyl with a Halloween or witchy vibe to it.

“Jungkook,” you called to his distracted mind and he lifted his eyes to you, the reflection from the lit candles in his gaze. You were standing by the edge of your bed, looking shy as you took off the witch’s hat. His lips parted with surprise, letting his feet take him to you until you were face to face and so close that his front brushed against yours. “Is this really something you want?”

He was the guy who had every girl he wanted. He would go to parties and make out with people he should. He would make bad decisions and regret them right after but this feels far from a bad decision. It’s the first time in a while that something felt right and it had to be you. There’s a reason why he’s been cleaning his act up, going to all his classes, showing up to work on time and ditching the nights out getting drunk.

Of course this was something he wanted.

He wanted you.

He had feelings for you.

You felt warm and he wanted to brush his fingers against your hair. Your touch was gentle but sudden as you ran a hand down the front of his chest, circling around his neck taking all his attention once more and he began to lean into you.

“Of course this is something I want,” he said just above a whisper, letting his hands touch down on your waist, unable to hold himself back any longer before he was pressing his lips to yours and kissing you effortlessly.

You tilted your head back, kissing him with equal hunger as he pulled you even closer until your bodies began to mold together into one before guiding you to lay back on your bed. Jungkook was gentle but firm, his hands felt rough but he touched you with such softness when he ran them down your sides. He didn’t hesitate to try and relish in the feeling of you under him, kissing along your neck and pressing his lips to your pulse point until he could feel your breath hitch in your throat.

You’re not a virgin but you’re not entirely experienced and yet you couldn’t find it in you to be nervous. Not even when his hands began to hitch up your black dress making you raise your hips enough for him to pull it up. Jungkook never once pulled his lips away from your skin, the desire to leave love bites was too strong and you were so soft underneath him. You looked up at your dark ceiling with its silver stars plastered all over and a handing moon lantern at the center, letting him kiss down your chest and navel.

“Is this okay?” Jungkook asked with genuine concern as he laid between your parted legs. The skirt of your dress had been pulled up to your stomach exposing the black underwear you wore, feeling his gentle fingers run against your hips patiently. A smile came to your face when he rested his head against your thigh, looking up at you lovingly and you nodded your head.

Jungkook pressed a kiss to your inner thighs, nose brushing against the sensitive areas as his nimble fingers began to brush along the thin black fabric, not yet touching you directly but feeling the outline of what was underneath. He could almost feel it all, the curve of your mound down to the slit where he pushed his thumb against until he could make out your entrance and feel the way you seemed to gasp when he teased you.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep in the surprised yelp from the way he began to pull your underwear down, moving to kiss whatever he exposed, not shying away from being more intimate. He raised your leg, sliding the cloth off before placing soft kisses against your calf and thigh, leading your legs over his shoulders before he laid back down and looked at what was between them. You felt like running away from how focused he seemed on your heat, almost asked him why until he was leaning down, tongue coming out to swipe against your hooded clit teasingly.

The bed was lush with pillows, using them to sink your head into when he did it again, this time more firm and intentional. You’ll admit, it’s been a while since you last had gotten intimate with someone so you couldn’t help but squirm when his tongue became more languid in its movements, separating your folds with the tip of it and letting his lips tug on the pulled skin. You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling his fingers pinch your thighs to keep you still while he circled your hardening clit with the tip of his tongue before kissing your labia and licking up whatever slick you released.

“Oh,” you couldn’t help but let out when he pressed his tongue against your entrance, nose pushing against your clit and just letting himself be completely engulfed by your essence. You could practically feel him smile against your core when he tilted his head to the side to tug your labia softly between his lips before letting it go and repeating the action.

When your hand found his hair, he seemed to pause wondering if you wanted him to stop, but then he felt a tug and he was helplessly following after you until you kissed, neither caring if there was the taste of you on his tongue. A low groan bubbled up in his throat that slipped through your lips when your tongue licked along his like you didn’t care he had just been kissing your soaked pussy and that made him unbelievably hard.

Jungkook moved a hand down to your legs, finding its way to your wet cunt, gently pressing into the puddle of slick at your entrance before moving up to your clit and rubbing it between his fingers. Your hands were in his hair, tugging softly whenever he did something you liked and with his tongue down your throat, he didn’t hesitate to tease your entrance with his middle finger, already feeling how tight your walls are when he began to press inside. Your mouth slipped open in pleasure as he thrusted a long finger into your cunt, palm flat against your clit and rubbing it in rhythm with his finger that soon became two, “You’re so wet, Angel.”

His fingers were completely soaked and anytime he pulled out his fingers to push them back in, he could practically feel the puddle around them and it made his dick throb in his pants. Your kissing came to an end when Jungkook couldn’t help but feel the need to disappear between your legs again, a bit annoyed that the fabric of your dress was in the way but pulled away anyway.

You arched your back off the bed in pleasure when his mouth found your clit again, paying his full attention back on it instead of his fingers which never relented on pumping in and out of you with such vigor that your legs began to shake, “Jungkook.”

“Hm?” He moaned, teeth lightly tugging on your folds and watching them go back until he licked against them to do it again.

“Are you close, Angel?” Jungkook asks with an unusually hoarse voice when you start to clench around his fingers, “Go ahead, let go for me.”

Your face hot and your chest heaving at the intensity just as it hits you and you’re cumming with a whimper that you try and hide behind a closed fist when his tongue eagerly licks up your release as it flows out and around his fingers. It took him a while to stop, only when he felt your thighs tremble did he pull away, some of your release coating his lips and piercings that he hungrily licked clean. A curse left his lips breathlessly as he sat back on his knees and looked down to see the way your pussy was flooded in slick.

You sat up once you had caught your breath, moving closer as he stared at his coated fingers curiously and without thinking, you took his hand by the wrist and brought his fingers toward your mouth. He watched you lick the space between them before bringing them into your mouth and sucking your essence clean off them.

“Fuck, Y/n,” his eyes fell shut as he let himself sink into the feeling of his fingers being sucked into your warm mouth and it was so hot in this bedroom. He pressed his thumb against your cheek as he attempted to take his fingers out of your mouth so he could use two hands to undress finally and you let him do just that. You bit into your bottom lip when he took his shirt off exposing more tattoos and muscle you had never seen but knew was there.

He looked at you as he undid his jeans, kicking them off along with his briefs exposing his hard cock that pointed straight with need that had him wincing at even the slightest touch of his hand against his tip. You quickly pulled on your dress, proving Jungkook’s earlier thoughts right when he questioned if you wore a bra or not—the answer was not—and it led him straight back to you. He kissed down your collarbone, hands on your hips as laid down between your legs, cock against your core causing him to moan out when he raised a hand knead your breast.

“I don’t have a condom,” he whispered in realization as he looked down at the way his slick began to tease your clit. Of course he wanted to continue but he doesn’t have any protection and it’s up to you what you want to do.

Your hands roamed against his back, “Jungkook.”

He looked up at you, lip pulled between his teeth when he felt your hand disappear between your pressed bodies until it circled around his stiff member making him bite back a groan of pleasure. You gave him a few strokes, guiding him down until his tip slipped into your slick and he looked at you with want when you said, “Just fuck me.”

It was all he needed to let himself sink into your entrance, a low moan leaving his lips as he felt his cock open your walls to adjust to his size. He didn’t stop pushing until he was all in, waiting there and feeling your breath grow more impatient as you got used to the feel of him.

He took things nice and slow, still concerned that you might want to end things any second, hoping you began to feel easy how good it felt when he rolled his hips, pushing more of his cock into you when you tightened.

“Fuck…” Jungkook couldn’t stop from cursing as pleasure took over his instincts. His body perfectly molded against yours with no space between them as he only used his hips to fuck you, “So good.”

Although he’s ashamed, he’ll admit that he has had his fair share of sexual intercourse but he can’t remember the last time he felt this good. His body felt like it was moving on its own accord, seeking its own pleasure with yours and he was so close. He kissed along your neck when you tipped your head back, lips parted with the force of his hips pushing himself deeper in a steady, but rough thrust of his cock.

Your breasts pressed against his chest as he practically hugged you to him with each thrust and he knew you were as close as he was to release. He brought a hand up your side until he was cupping a breast in his palm, kneading the soft flesh and rubbing his fingertip against your nipple watching the way your jaw seemed to drop in warning that you were close. Despite his hair being much shorter than it used to be, it still fell forward and over his eyes looking sweaty.

“You feel so good, Angel” he grunts, talking you both through orgasm. It was true, although he was doing all of the work, every little moan he pulled out of you mixed with the feel of your body against his felt so damn good. It made all this patience he had when it came to you worth it.

When Jungkook knew you were just over the edge, he brought his hand down, barely pressing it into your clit when he felt your walls tighten, a growl leaving his lips at how you sucked his cock in until finally, the tension broke and he felt himself flood with your release. He dug his face into your neck, shaking slightly as he bit back his own orgasm until yours subdued and he carefully guided his dick back out. Once the air hit his exposed, soaked member, everything broke loose.

You had taken him in your hand, stroking him through release and costing your thigh in his cum, listening to his string of moans and groans of pleasure with a gentleness he’s not sure he’s ever felt.

It took you both a while to regain some awareness and were ashamed to admit it was Coal’s persistent meowing on the other side of the bedroom door. Jungkook couldn’t help but laugh as he let himself collapse down on your bed next to you, breathing heavily with a hand on his chest as he saw stars—literally, littered across your ceiling. His hand searched endlessly for some sign of you, taking a lock of your hair and twisting it around his finger when you moved to sit up, hands covering your exposed intimates almost shyly. He raised a curious brow, sitting up on his elbow as he looked at the mess the two of you had made.

“You okay?” He asked with concern. The candles lit around the room reflected a soft glow off your skin and you looked as ethereal and whimsical as he thought that first night.

“Yes,” you said quietly, “I think I need a shower, though.”

He smiled, “So let’s take one.”

The next morning you found him sitting at the wooden counter of the shop.

“What are you reading?” You asked Jungkook as he had a book open, studying it carefully.

“Natural contraceptives,” Jungkook mumbled as he wrote down the names of various herbs on an old napkin, “I should have been more prepared last nigh—Do you have Black Cohosh or Angelica by chance? I heard if you drink it in a tea, it should help promote menstrua—“

Your hand covers his mouth when you felt the tall tale signs of your best friend approaching. Even before Jimin opened the door to the shop, he had a shit eating grin at the sight of you two, and not caring much for secrecy as he waved a finger to turn the sign to ‘OPEN’.

“So what did the two of you get up to last night?” He asked casually, trying to peak at the book that you quickly slammed shut bringing an amused smile to Jungkook’s face.

“We went out for some drinks,” Jungkook answered, standing up with an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple, “I’m going to start boiling water.”

It was strangely comical and endearing the way he acted and Jimin watched the way your gaze followed after him.

“Wow, and I didn’t even have to cast a love spell to bring that look into your eyes.”

On the night of November 1st, outside during a crescent moon, Jungkook asked if you could be his girlfriend sounding strangely shy that you couldn’t say no.

::.

omg this took me forever but I finally got out a little Halloween fic and I’ve actually done a softer, cuter oc than usual? woahhh who am I. also my bday is this Sunday [oct 29] and I just think I’m so special I gotta let yall know

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin n @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @babybella337 @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @Imeneghd @whoa-jo @evajeonsworld @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @heyhowyoudoin3 @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @jeonjk25 @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @brillantdarling

[leclercloml]

Enchanted to meet you | CL16

part 1 , part 2

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x singer!reader

Summary: cheating in never a option it's a choice, a choice that he made while she loved him with her whole heart but you know there's nothing that she do better than revenge.

Genre: SMAU

warnings: google translated french, grammar mistakes, incorrect time line to match the story line, A LOT of charles slandering (I'm sorry my love)

Author's note: important! this is not any kind hate towards alexandra she's a beautiful woman from inside and outside this is all fiction and if I see ANY hate toward her in comments you'll be blocked...and also this fic is slandering our it boy as well, so don't attack me for that because I love that guy sm, my username and profile should explain a lot, that's it hope you y'all like it 🫶🏻

fc: Gracie Abrams

celebnews

liked by username, username, username and 46,29,38 others

celebnews do you believe in fairytale? Well...no not anymore, the popular singer and songwriter Y/n L/n and formula 1 driver Charles Leclerc recently made their relationship public, they were also given the nickname called "the it couple" everything seemed perfect and fairytale and rainbows until few days ago Charles was spotted with a girl on his yatch which sources says is an arts student named Alexandra saint melux and the duo looked pretty comfortable around eachother, or more than comfortable meanwhile y/n was in new york for her work, thoughts on this?

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username say sike rn.

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⤷username not all men.

⤷username yup, but somehow always men.

username If I had a nickel for every time charles leclerc cheated on his girlfriend with her friend, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

⤷username FRIEND?? Y/N AND ALEXANDRA WERE FRIENDS??!!

⤷username apparently yeah, that's how Charles and Alex met in first place?

⤷username yup, y/n and Alex we're friends and when y/n started dating Charles, she moved to monaco and I guess there she met alex in a art show or something and then they both become really good friends and y/n, charles and Alex all three of them used to hangout together, there are many pictures

⤷username how did I not know this?

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username once a cheater always a cheater.

yourinstagram added to story

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sabrinacarpenter babe this is not you.

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iMessage

instagram

yourinstagram

liked by carlossainz55, rubendias, sabrinacarpenter and 39,739,828 others

yourinstagram I would rather spend my time a honest whore rather than a dishonest lover. (ps: that wasn't me on my story, i don't cry over disappointments 🥰)

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sabrinacarpenter honest whore are so much cooler too.

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szoboszlaidominik gyönyörű lány 🩷 (beautiful girl)

⤷yourinstagram thanks domi 🫶🏻🫶🏻

⤷username my girl is literally collecting every hot guys.

⤷username post breakup y/n is gonna be soo iconic.

username mother.

yourinstagram

liked by rubendias, lilymhe, szoboszlaidominik and 48,938,940, others

yourinstagram girls dinner ft. some stupid boys🥂 (they begged us to come)

tagged; sabrinacarpenter, oliviarodrigo, lilymhe, alex_albon, pierre_gasly, francisca.cgomes, rubendias, carlossainz55, landonorris, szoboszlaidominik

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oliviarodrigo your sports friends are cool i guess, but their girl's are cooler

⤷lilymhe you and Sab are super cool as well! It was awesome meeting you guys.

⤷sabrinacarpenter the pleasure was all mine ✨

rubendias finally! reunited and happy!

⤷yourinstagram reUNITED and happy 👀?? Nah buddy I don't think so

⤷szoboszlaidominik lmao 💀.

carlossainz55 I INFACT DID NOT BEGGED YOU! you told ME to tag along.

⤷yourinstagram AND you didn't wanted to????

⤷carlossainz55 I'm not saying that....

⤷username and i oop-

⤷username if i speak now.

⤷username shhhh

francisca_cgomes could've been better without those idiots tbf.

⤷yourinstagram ikr

⤷pierregasly WOW you're literally MY girlfriend

⤷francisca_cgomes says who?

⤷username lmfaoo iconic iconic iconic.

landonorris your footballer friends are amazing ngl.

⤷rubendias i have a name.

⤷szoboszlaidominik me too.

⤷landonorris my bad g.

⤷username fuck everything DOMINIK AND RUBEN interaction is what I'm living for.

lilymhe you're so beautiful marry me please

⤷yourinstagram yes yes yes!!!!

⤷alex_albon yeah.....no.

⤷lilymhe who are you?

⤷username I'm loving this wayyy toooo much

maxverstappen1 where was my invitation????

⤷yourinstagram sorry maximus, it was like a last minute plan

⤷username maximusss 😭😭

username literally the entire grid and their girlfriends are on y/n' side

⤷username as they should.

username even max is team y/n, my guy just can't stop taking W.

username this is the defination of iconic.

username dts gonna be so fun.

username can't wait for next gp.

celebnews

liked by username, username, username and 386,892 others

celebnews when at some point we all thought Charles Leclerc was regretting his decision or mistake, he infact was not, yesterday charles leclerc and probably his new girl alexandra saint mleux was seen leaving a fancy restaurant in Monaco, few fans said that the 'couple' seemed very happy and after that they both left to charles appartment in his custom pista, that's a very shameless behaviour. thoughts?

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username this guy have 0 shame

username disgusting, absolutely disgusting.

username tbh we don't care, y/n is living her life with her friends and his teammate lmao.

⤷username ikr like no one even cares about this guy 💀.

username bro realised he fumbled hard and have 0 chances of a second chance so bro settled down.

⤷username real

username we do not care, y/n got multiple guys who would treat her way better than this sore loser.

⤷username yeah?? like who? no offense but Charles better than all of "her guys"

⤷username yeah not really, Carlos his teammate certainly beat him this season, Lando his rival out performed him as well despite being in McLaren, Ruben and Dominik actually good at what they do, so I can assure she got a lot of guys who is better than him and imagine defending a cheater who shamelessly admits it and literally start hanging out with his side chick.💀💀

⤷username ate her up lmao

rubendias who?

⤷username KINGGGGG

⤷username defending his girl on and off pitch.

⤷username rubennnnnn

username bro's smashing (in walls)

⤷username lmfaaaoooo

username can't spell charles leclerc without L, L and L.

charles_leclerc

liked by alexandrasaintmleux , joris_trouch and 38,395,689 others

charles_leclerc there's a thing called privacy.

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lilymhe there's also a thing called loyalty.

⤷username queen ate him up.

⤷username the L in lily stands for legendary.

⤷username y/n's no.1 defender.

⤷username i love this woman sm 😭

username yeah you wish it was because if it wasn't then you'll never be caught cheating.

carlossainz55 lmao.

⤷username ohhhh hell yeah vegas is gonna be verrryyyyy interesting

⤷username see not trying to be weird and all but I ⛴️.

⤷username ⛴️🛳️🚢

⤷username guyssss.....what if....

⤷username yes!.

⤷username damn...i kinda wanted her to get with ruben but carlos would work too....

⤷username OHHH DTS WHERE ARE YOU NOW??!!

username face of a cheater

username imagine crashing every race and then having the audacity to cheat on a successful woman who's actually good at what she does, lmfao.

⤷username bro FUMBLED HARD.

username ew.

username y/n should make a song about this cheating ahh loser.

liked by landonorris

⤷username landooooo????!!!

⤷username Lando what do you know???

maxverstappen1 atleast be honest with yourself.

⤷username EVEN MAX LMFAAOOO

⤷username if i was charles leclerc I would've locked myself in my house.

username bro fucked up very badly.

username bro have balls of steel to come on internet and post this.

username no offense but this twig cheated on my girl???

⤷username ik sweetie ik, a strange world we live in.

username oh the music is coming y'all, I can feel it.

yourinstagram

liked by carlossainz55, rubendias, sabrinacarpenter and 39,838,973 others

yourinstagram welllll you guys called it, new one coming...soon 👀.

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sabrinacarpenter ohhhhhhh myyyy goooooddd!!!!

⤷username my exact reaction.

⤷username sab is one of us.

⤷username supportive queen.

oliviarodrigo a hint? Is it sad or a absolute menace???

⤷yourinstagram guess we'll find out soon.

⤷username I'm really craving sad tbh....

⤷username oh she would destroy him in sad genre.

carlossainz55 can I say that I was the first person to hear that masterpiece??

⤷yourinstagram no

⤷carlossainz55 okay (I was)

⤷username ahm ahm...

⤷rubendias excuse me?!!

⤷username so we all know it's gonna be a masterpiece.

⤷username well it always is, every music she makes is a work of art.

rubendias still hurted by the fact that carlos heard it before me but okay I can't wait to enjoy it with the whole world.

⤷yourinstagram sorry rubs but he wouldn't leave me alone!

⤷carlossainz55 ACCUSATIONS!

⤷username so we can all feel it no?

⤷username shhh don't jinx it

szoboszlaidominik can't wait for it gyönyörű (beautiful)

⤷yourinstagram thank you domi!!

username SCREAMING CRYING

username finally!!!!! I've waited months for a song from mother.

username mother mother???!!!!

⤷username that's a band.

⤷username girl-

username i can't wait for it.

username song of the year.

⤷username it's not even released yet??!!

⤷username OK, and??

username oh my god I used to pray for times like this.

username finally the queen is back. (She never left)

username oh how I love being a y/n stan.

username finally!!!

╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾╾

ps: I finally did it! Thank you soooo much for waiting! And yes there will be part 4 AND once again this is no hate to charles or alexandra this is all just fiction so take it lightly, thank you 🫶🏻

[misslavenderlady]

Here Comes The Bride 💐

The Lost Boys/Crysta (OC)

Summary: After all their hard work in shaping their captured mate, the boys are finally ready to take the next step with Crysta~

If I had a nickel for every time I made a birthday fic for @hypocriticaltypwriter I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice /j

This fic has references to her character Crysta and takes place in the world of her White Wedding AU, which I highly recommend you give some love!!! Please enjoy!

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, Stockholm Syndrome (aka falling in love with captor), forced marriage, trauma, crying

Becoming a blushing bride was something that Crysta had dreamed of ever since she was a little girl. Getting to see her cousins and friends at their weddings over the years had made wish to find her true love so that she could have her own magical experience. Getting her hair dolled up by her aunt in the salon, finding the shiniest rock possible for her ring, crying tears of joy when she found the perfect dress for her special day. She longed for it all so very much.

Never in her wildest dreams did she ever imagine getting swept away by creatures of the night who had their own dreams of the perfect wedding. David and his Lost Boys had their eye on the little redhead for ages now. Lusting over her curvaceous figure, admiring her bubbly personality and fawning over her beautiful face. Everything about her was perfect in their eyes. 

But they didn't do things by the book when it came to romance. They saw what they wanted, and they didn't hesitate to take it for themselves. That fateful night when they stole their little bride-to-be from her bed and fled under the cover of darkness was the biggest rush they had in ages. Their devious laughter overlapped with her frightened shrieks as they rushed her back home to the crypt. 

It hadn't been an easy transition, of course. Crysta sobbed if they so much as looked at her. She was often shaking like a leaf and huddled in a fetal position on the bed in the room they set up for her within the hideout. It took weeks for them to say enough sweet nothings to get her comfortable enough to talk to them. Even if she still whimpered from being in the presence of her captors, Crysta was shaping up to be the perfect little mate for them. 

Each boy had their own special trick to get the little lady to warm up to them. Dwayne was so gentle with her, always holding her and stroking her hair with the same care one would use for a kitten. Paul had a killer sense of humor, often saying the right thing to get her to giggle in between her crying spells. Marko used gift giving as his love language, bringing her beautiful dresses, jewelry, and all her favorite foods to enjoy. 

But none of them compared to what David was capable of. The leader had a wickedness in his charms. A sense of magic he could bend to his very will. And he used it to make Crysta love him, whether she truly wanted it or not. 

When the pretty redhead started to tear up, he'd be there to dry her eyes right away. When she meekly asked for some comfort, he would thoroughly pamper her so she'd feel better. In the rare moments she asked for intimacy, he was the most giving lover possible. David wouldn't be satisfied unless his bride was happy. 

Perhaps it was cliche for the sinister claws of Stockholm Syndrome to hook at her heart and mind, but given the situation that Crysta was in, it was bound to happen at some point. She was still terrified out of her mind. She still cried every single day, longing for her freedom and the return of her normal life. But despite the fear of never being free again, she also harbored the fear of what would happen if her boys disappeared.  

It pleased David immensely. To be both the problem and the solution to Crysta's pain was pure entertainment to the vampire king. 

But now he was growing quite tired of the little games they played with her. He was ready to move on to the next step in their grand plan of corruption. It was time to make their beloved’s dreams of her wedding day come true. 

“Engagement’s over, Crysta,” David told her with a wicked smile spread across his face. “It’s time to tie the knot~”

Paul, Dwayne and Marko wasted no time getting their little lady dolled up for the big day. They fitted her in an elaborate corset over her flowing, princess-style dress. They fluffed up her curly locks before placing a crown of roses atop her head. They used the best water-proof mascara they could find for her makeup. The boys even gifted her a vampire’s necklace, complete with a centuries old ruby for the charm. 

She was such a beautiful bride. She should have been thrilled to look the way she had wanted ever since she was little. But all she felt was another wave of tears as she wailed once again. It didn’t help that the grooms were teasing her and calling her playful names. It was far too amusing for them to control themselves when it was just that easy to toy with her.

Still, David kept his boys nice and focused when it was time for their unholy ceremony. Everything had to be absolutely perfect for their special day. Their crypt was filled to the brim with black wax candles, deep red roses and ashen lace draped across the bannisters. It was far from the “white wedding” aesthetic that Crysta had dreamed of during her days of flipping through magazines. She sniffled even more than usual when she saw the wicked display that she’d be married in.

She wanted to run away. FAR away. They would surely snatch her up again if she even got a foot out the door, but it was all her body longed to do. This was all happening so fast, and she had no choice in the matter. 

The boys worked like a machine, each doing their part perfectly to stop Crysta from becoming a runaway bride. With Marko and Paul linking their arms with hers and Dwayne carrying her train from behind as they walked her down the aisle, she was completely trapped. They held her as tightly as iron chains. No hope of escape as they brought her closer and closer to their leader at the end of the aisle. 

By the time they had brought her to her spot, she had come completely undone. The mascara wasn’t strong enough to stop the river of dark lines that washed down her cheeks. She trembled under the gaze of David’s icy eyes as he held up a ring for her. No mere band of silver or gold. It was a ring of spikes that would surely slice into her skin. Thorns for their little rose.

“D-David…”  she whimpered. “I can’t do this…”

“Yes, you can, little love,” the vampire cooed. The blue in his eyes melted into a sea of gold and red, transforming to show his true nature. “I have loved you ever since I first saw you. And I never had any intentions of letting you go.”

[late-to-the-party-81]

Of Pianos and Mischief

AN: You know when you have an idea for a fic, and then that idea grows, and then you think “I could link this to a story I wrote last year”? Well, that!

This can be read as a follow-up to the story I wrote for BBB 2022 - Polyamory

Beta’d by BritBrit99

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Bingo Fills - 

@buckybarnesbingo K4 - Playing an instrument

@stuckybingo I2 - Loki

@steverogersbingo C4 - Loki

Master list | BBB Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List | SRB Master list

Summary: Just a normal day for Sam and his two super soldier boyfriends, sketching, reading and wondering how the hell Bucky has managed to smuggle a piano into his room….

Relationship: Steve x Bucky x Sam

Word count: 1.7k

CW: Sam Wilson PoV, Domestic fluff, boys in love, Bucky Barnes recovering, Protective Steve, Protective Sam, Snarky Loki.

Sam had known that when he decided to follow his heart and accept the love of not one, but two, centenarian supersoldiers, that he wasn’t picking the easy path. But when had he ever picked ‘easy’? Every day was a challenge of some description and today was no exception. He should have known that something was coming when it started off so calmly.

Bucky had gone out to the shops this morning, coming home with a secret bag of ‘who knows what’ and was now ensconced  in his room, apparently working on a ‘special project’. Sam and Steve knew by now to just let him be - he’d tell them when he was ready. However, it had been while they were waiting in the living room, Steve randomly sketching and doodling at one end of the sofa and Sam trying to make his way through The Hobbit on Bucky’s recommendation at the other, feet tangled together, that they heard a sound that just cemented in Sam’s mind that his life would never be straight forward.

A piano. 

They could hear a piano being played in Bucky’s room. Steve’s eyes had lit up, obviously recognising the melody that was being played rustily from behind the closed door, but Sam’s first thought had just been ‘How the hell did Bucky sneak a piano into the apartment?’

“What the hell? Did you know about this Steve?” Sam turned on the sofa to look at Steve, but his blonde boyfriend now had his eyes closed, his right hand moving in time to the music, still clutching a charcoal pencil.

“He’s playing ‘Night and Day’,” Steve replied, dreamily. “He used to play this when we went down Farrell’s on the corner of 16th and 9th. The girls would hang around him, trying to get him to notice them, and if he was lucky, some of the old timers would toss a nickel in his hat. I don’t think I’ve heard him play since he shipped out.”

Sam rolled his eyes. Steve was always so sappy, which was normally endearing, but not in this instance where there were questions to be answered.

“And I’m all for it, really, but how did the piano get in our apartment? I’m guessing you didn’t help him and I sure as hell didn’t.”

At Sam’s words, Steve’s face took on a quizzical expression and, to be honest, it was pretty cute. 

“I mean, he could probably carry one in here on his own,” Steve suggested, but it was clear he didn’t really believe what he was saying, even if it was possible.

“Yeah, but without either of us noticing?” Sam countered.

“Maybe Thor helped him?” Steve offered, even less convincingly.

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head, putting his book down and shifting so he could straddle Steve’s legs and cup his jaw.

“Steve, the situation is weird and you know it.” He dropped a kiss to Steve pink, pouty lips. “Now, I’m gonna go find out what’s going on.”

He straightened and climbed off Steve’s lap. He made it two steps across the room before Steve called after him.

“Sam, wait…” Steve practically stumbled to his feet, his sketchpad and charcoal tumbling to the floor as he did so. He reached out and snagged Sam’s hand. “You know Bucky doesn’t like to be disturbed. We promised to respect that.”

Sam looked at Steve’s earnest face then at Bucky’s door and back again, and his shoulders slumped as he let out a sigh. “You’re right, but you know how much I hate mysteries.”

Suddenly a voice came from behind them.

“It’s not that mysterious, my dear New Cap.”

The two men whirled around to find a pair of blue-green eyes twinkling at them, mischievously.

Steve scowled and took a protective step forwards, fists clenched at his sides.

“Loki!”

The God of Mischief was perched atop the sideboard, legs crossed with the one underneath swinging jauntily.

“Now, now, Captain - sorry. Nomad - don’t get your star-spangled panties in a wad. I’m just here to help.”

Steve let out a low noise, which to Sam’s ear sounded like a growl. It was both surprising and sexy in equal measure.

Loki hopped down, uncaring of Steve’s posturing and took a relaxed seat on the couch.

“I know! It still comes as a surprise to me on occasion. But I will admit to having been very intrigued when the good Sargent’s missive reached me in New Asgard, asking for some assistance. I needed to see for myself the man that had caused you and Stark to fall out. I must say I wasn’t disappointed.”

“You leave Bucky alone, Loki, or so help me…” Steve took another step forward but halted and trailed off when Loki raised his hand.

“I assure you, I have no designs on ‘your Bucky’. My tastes run more to blondes who are even older than you are.”

Sam stepped around Steve, hoping to keep him from launching himself at the smirking demi-god.

“What did Bucky actually ask you to help with?”

Loki turned his head to take Sam in with an appraising look. “Finally, someone who asks the real questions. But then I’m guessing that you don’t have any ridiculous serum making you all addle-pated. You don’t seem so pompously righteous either.”

“You still don’t want to underestimate me though,” Sam quipped back, easily understanding how the others found Loki insufferable.

Loki looked at Sam, opening his mouth as if to make a retort, but then seemed to think better of it.

“Well, anyway,” he said instead, “He wanted help acquiring and secretly installing a Midgardian piano, and then adding magical sound-proofing to his room, so he could practise without either of you knowing. And as a former brainwashing victim myself, I have to admit I was very intrigued to see how he was readjusting. I can see that all it took was the love of two good men, a global pardon and a stint in Africa.”

Steve’s shoulders lost some of their tension at Loki’s explanation, but he was still far from relaxed. “So, let me get this straight - you used your magical abilities to conjure Bucky a piano?”

“My,” Loki drawled, “you really are more intelligent than you seem.”

“And you’re more of an asshole than you seem,” said Sam. “But if you also sound-proofed his room, why can we hear him playing?”

Loki smiled a toothy grin. “Well, I wouldn’t be the God of Mischief if I didn’t do the unexpected every now and again, would I?” With that he stood, brushing imaginary specks of dust from his clothes. “Anyway, it was very nice chatting with you both, but I must be going. Things to do, you know how it is.” Then, with a wave of his hand and a green flash, he disappeared.

Sam and Steve looked at each other in disbelief, still trying to work out what exactly had just happened, when Bucky’s door opened and he came strolling out. The other pair jumped in surprise and Bucky raised his brow.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Why does Stevie look as though he’s squaring up for a fight?”

Steve looked down at his hands that were still curled into fists and unclenched them.

“I was… just… um… walking through a defensive move with Sam. Wasn’t I?” Steve looked at Sam, his blue eyes imploring. 

“Yeah, something like that,” Sam confirmed.

Bucky obviously wasn’t convinced. “Mmm-hmm? You two keep your secrets then. I won’t be offended.” He let out a mock sniff as he made his way over to the sofa, sat down, and then noticed the book on the coffee table. “Hey, Sam, you’re actually reading it. What do you think so far?”

Sam flashed Steve a look of relief that Bucky was now distracted by one of his favourite topics and went to join Bucky on the couch, curling up tight next to him. “It’s great, Buck. But you know what would be even better?”

“What, dollface?”

“If you read it to us. You agree, don’t you Steve?”

Steve smiled broadly at them both, before crossing the carpet and wedging himself down between Bucky and the opposite arm of the sofa, pulling Bucky to half lie with his back against Steve’s chest.

“Sure I do. You’ll read us a chapter, won’t you, baby?”

Bucky smiled at each of his boyfriends in turn. “Anything for you two. But afterwards you gotta tell me what was going on before I came out.”

“Only if,” Steve countered, “you tell us what you were up to in your room.”

“Deal,” said Bucky, and dropped a kiss on Steve’s lips before turning back to Sam and dropping one on his too.  “So, chapter five. Riddles in the Dark. When Bilbo opened his eyes, he wondered if he had; for it was just as dark as with them shut.”

Sam let himself relax against Bucky’s side, resting his head on his shoulder, and listened to his deep voice rumble through him. Steve’s arm rested along the back of the sofa, and the tips of his fingers, which could just about reach Sam’s head, traced lazy patterns in his short hair.

Life might not be easy and constantly filled with the unexpected, but thinking on everything else he had, Sam decided he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Tag List: @km-ffluv @wheezy-stucky @christywrites @doasyoudesireandlive

[wutheringheightsfilm]

nickel boys is never a book i could imagine being adapted into a film... not for any particular reason it's just that the writing is so visceral... i do really wonder how it portrays the twist because the summary of the movie makes it seem... like... more lighthearted than it actually is? like "it's two boys navigating their friendship".... ah... you could say that?

[o-the-mts]

Book Review: Harlem Shuffle by Colson Whitehead

Author: Colson Whitehead Title: Harlem Shuffle: A Novel Narrator: Dion Graham Publication Info: Random House Audio, 2021 Books previously read by the same author: Apex Hides the Hurt The Underground Railroad The Nickel Boys Summary/Review: Ray Carney tries to run an honest business as a furniture store proprietor in Harlem, but occasionally fences stolen items for his cousin Freddie.   When…

[t-h-i-n-g]

HELLO MAY I REQUEST A MAX MAYFIELD X READER?

VERY ROMANTIC AESTHETIC CUTE READER, WRITING LOVE LETTERS TO MAX. YES.

THANK YOU, HAVE A NICE DAY !

Love, Y/n

(gif not mine credits to owner)

a/n: HI TYSM FOR REQUESTING!! IDKY I ALWAYS HAVE TO MAP UP HOW MY FIC GOT TO WHERE IT IS BUT IT WORKS I GUESS?? HOPE YOU ENJOY <3 also if i had a nickel for every fic i've made with the reader calling max their everything i'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice right?

word count: 1.3k

summary: even before you started dating max, she noticed how there was always a different romance novel on your nightstand each week. and now that you are in a relationship you are bringing those books to life.

warnings: none, just cheesy fluff.

st - masterlist m.masterlist

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

Ever since you were a kid romance has always been a fascination of yours. With movies, books, poems, music, anything. The love that someone expresses for another just amazed you. Even if some movies were cheesy or a few books were written poorly the idea of them caring for one another was pure.

When Max moved into Hawkins you were the first one to approach her. The party decided to chicken out while you did all the hard work. You came up to her with a backpack on and The Notebook in hand. You had asked her if she was into arcade games. Confusion crossed her features for the fact it was a rather coincidental question. Not a ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey! How’s it going?’ She soon put two and two together that the boys that were following her throughout the day were somehow acquainted with you. 

You watched the wheels turn in her head as she hesitated to respond. Instead of letting the awkward silence continue you informed Max that your friends were wondering if she was ‘Mad Mad.’ The person who came out of nowhere and absolutely dominated Dig Dug.

Once the air was cleared you invited her to come with you to hang out at the arcade for a few hours. It didn’t have to be with the boys, you informed. They could be very overbearing and have no boundaries at times.

She agreed, deciding to herself that she needed to be familiar with at least someone. The relationship between you blossomed from there.

Hanging out at your house became a weekly occurrence.(You tried her house once but the stare off her step-brother and you had as you made your way to Max’s room was not something that she wanted to witness again.) The first few times she was there she saw the mountain if vhs tapes stacked up on a table. You told her each and every name, most of them being corny ones. As well as a bookshelf that was stacked to the brim. Books on top, resting on the floor, and some scattered across your room. Max sneaked a peak at the covers when you went to get something to drink once. At least 75% of them had the couple on the front holding one another close. Causing her to scrunch up her face.

You were cheesy. That’s all there was to it. You were a big ball of lovey cheesiness… but Max could live it. After the events with the demo-dog hive mine under the middle of Hawkins, to say the dynamic between you and Max changed. The two of you danced at the Snowball, telling yourselves that the boys were gross. Which Max teased you about for the fact of the amount of fictional men you had in your room. Which brought up the topic about how you weren’t really reading for the guys all the time. 

Max’s eyes widened at your statement, all of the confusing feelings she’s been having over the past weeks finally making sense. On your front step after her mom had dropped you off, Max ran to catch you before you entered the door. Grabbing your face gently with her hands and bringing her lips to yours. As she pulled away a shocked smile appeared on your features. She smiled back, placing a light kiss on your cheek before yelling a 'bye!' and making her way back to her mom’s car. You still stood stunned while you waved them goodbye as the vehicle pulled out of your driveway. Boy did Max not know what she was getting into.

At first it was little notes. Just a small shred of paper that would fall out her locker now and then with some meaningful words on it. Then came the sticky notes that she would find on random items in her backpack or anywhere really it seemed. How did you do it without her knowing? She had no idea. 

On them were little cute ‘pick me up’ messages, as you liked to called them, or just sweet things. Like you liked her outfit or she looked really pretty that day. She later confronted you, jokingly asking if that meant she didn’t look pretty everyday. 

She looked forward to them. Even if you did skip some days she knew it must have been a good reason. They helped her gain more confidence in herself and your relationship. Confirming you weren’t sick of her and cared just as deeply for her as she did you.

Months flew by as the notes continued. It wasn't until a week into summer that you decided to switch it up again. Max was once again staying the night at yours and while she was doing who knows what, you sneaked the piece of paper into her bag. Knowing she’ll find it sooner or later.

Max did indeed stumble across the envelope late the next day. Having packed away all the dirty clothes into a hamper and other essentials in their places. However when going to grab a stray sock at the bottom of her bag she noticed something that she didnt put there herself. Pulling it out, she observed the slightly crumpled paper. She moved to her bed as she saw on the front read ‘Max Mayfield’ in your hand writing. She smiled lightly as she began to open the envelope, slightly ripping it in the process. Taking the paper in both hands she began reading,

Dear Max,

Hi! If you’re reading this that means it didn’t get lost wherever I put it, which is good! I’m sorry if you are getting sick of these little notes, but it’s just something I’ve always wanted to do for someone. In books they mention how falling for someone is like feeling a spark or a zing of lightning. That’s what you are for me, Max. My lightning, my spark, my person to express everything I have to give. The one I can talk to without feeling ashamed or worried you’ll judge me. Even if you tease and pick at time I know that it’s just a way to show you care.

As well as the times when we are together. How you are able to open up and be gentle and just to trust me. That means so much. Ever since I was little I’ve waited for someone to let me do these cheesy little notes to. For someone who was touched by my words and would trust me enough to believe them. Max you are everything I’ve always wanted and more. You ARE my everything. DON”T LAUGH AT ME FOR THAT OKAY?? Cause it’s true! I don’t know where I’d be without you (for the fact that you did quite literally save my life I probably wouldn’t even be here).

Every day I wake up wondering if you had a good night or if you were even awake yet. Every day when you're not here I wish you were and wish that you’re doing well. You’re like oxygen to me, Max. Without you I wouldn’t be able to do the things I love. And I’m so glad that you’re the one who allows me to. Anyways, the point of this was to tell you that I’m happy you allow me to do these types of things for you. And I just care about you a lot. Even love! With all the things we’ve been through and the time we’ve spent with each other I can gladly say that I'm in love with you, Max Mayfield. And I’m 100% sure that you love me too so you don't have to say it back till you're ready. I hope you are having a wonderful day, Max. I can’t wait till I see you again.

Love, Y/n

Max’s face was hurting from the amount of smiling she was doing. A squeal left her as she covered her mouth and fell back onto her bed. Clutching the letter to her chest she peered up at the ceiling. God, she could never let you see her like this… Well maybe you could, I mean if you love her how could you not accept her beat red face with open arms?

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

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

[ladyvesuvia]

babe- yes. nobody's stopping you. do it. oh your asking me who? harry. him and you like this in ootp/hbp. ootp were he's tired of everything and snaps at you, and or hbp were he unintentionally ignores you because of the book and you get tired of his 'strange' behavior and you snap at him for not being a good boyfriend- i'll leave it there, you finish it <3

Letdown Countdown

PAIRING: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: When loving becomes tiring. || kinda based on this scene and this.

WORDS: 4.1k

WARNING(S): cursing, arguments, angst

A/N: lyn, baby, thank you for this request. i needed angst. i’m so sorry this took long but here it is jsjdiw i hope it’s what you had in mind ;)) || also experimenting with a different writing style kfjrieiw

[NAVIGATION] [MASTERLIST]

    It’s ten o’clock in the morning.

    It’s a good day. She sees the disheveled boy in the doorway, his eyes watching everyone in the room curiously and all logic goes out and her arms are around him, tears of relief streaming down her face as she laughs more to herself than to anyone in particular. He’s angry, his eyes filled with something far from tears — he is furious. Angry, even.

    But it’s still a good day, it always will be if he’s within reach. It’s still a good day even when he’s mad. After all, he has every right to be; the luxury of feeling is what the world owes him if not the truth. She could only watch as he said everything he’s been keeping to himself.

    It was hard to get him alone the next couple of days, but she finally had the chance on one late night when they both found themselves seated in the table, glasses of water right in front of them.

    “You’re a year older,” she says, not wanting to throw him off with the same worried questions everyone’s asked the days before. “I think that’s cool.”

    “It’s haunting, really,” he says with a laugh to relieve whatever tension sat between them. “Sorry I was a bit — you know — when I first came back.”

    “A bit salty? Yeah, that’s alright,” she says as well, and soon the two laughed together. For her, it wasn’t hard to love Harry. Not when he looked at her in the way she had always wanted to be looked at; not when on the off chance that he does smile, he happens to be the only thing she wanted to see. “Sorry I didn’t write to you — not that I didn’t want to. We weren’t allowed to tell you much, you know.”

    She looks at her wristwatch. Surprisingly, nine p.m. has long passed.

    “I know, I'm sorry.”

    Silence again. She reaches out to hurriedly sip on her glass of water, watching him through the glass end of the cup. He’s staring at the fireplace, seemingly oblivious to her gaze and so she sets down her glass and turns to him with a smile.

    “Hey, what’s bothering you?”

    He only shakes his head in response and tells her it’s nothing.

    “Come on,” she says, digging her hands into her pockets. A lint comes out, and so she searches her other pocket. “Listen,” she starts again, “I’d give you a penny so I could say ‘penny for your thoughts’ and the next best thing would be ‘nickel for your thoughts’ but I only have a sickle so . . . sickle for your thoughts?”

    That smile again.

    “That surely sounds better than a dime for my thoughts and I normally don’t take prices for my worries but . . . I’ll take it.”

    “Perfect,” she says, tossing the tiny coin she got from her pocket to the table. He puts his hand on the coin, sliding it off the edge of the said table and slipping it into his own pocket. “Shoot.”

    He talked and she listened — it’s a good day.

    She’s there for him, she always is.

    Harry and [Y/N]. It’s always been this way for as long as she can remember. Despite the defeats they constantly face, she loves him just as she loves the first time they shared that knowing look in a room full of people. She loves everything, especially the day they became each other's on that one fated night of the Ball, young love being more than just young love. It is love; it is love whenever she catches him looking for no valid reason at all. Love is everything in between.

    She loves that he constantly looks after the people around him. She loves that he's spontaneous, that you never know what he's going to do next. She loves that he's hers, just as she's his.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

    “How many dreams now?” she asks him.

    “Eight, give or take.” Harry shifts in his seat, adjusting his glasses to have something to do. She knows it’s more than that.

    “You have to keep taking Occlumency with Snape, you have to tell Dumbledore!”

    “I always have to do things, don’t I?” he says, but he’s staring at the fireplace, eyes unfocused. There’s no answer to that. At least, none she could answer.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

    “Maybe it's just a trick,” she says in panicked breaths as Harry rummages through his trunk for his cloak. He isn't so fond of this suggestion, and she knows it. “Harry, listen to me.” She reaches out to touch his wrist, but he only shakes it away.

    “A trick?” he spats bitterly, facing her with a scowl on his face. “My godfather could die, [Y/N]. Think about it! He might be. . .” She knows what he's worried about. “I just need to check, alright? I need to check. I need to get to that fireplace now. What, I’m s’pposed to let seven days pass and be a helpless child? Just — for once, could you please just let me be? Can you do that just this once?”

    She loves that he constantly looks after the people around him, loves that his loved ones are his topmost priority.

    There's nothing else she could do, and so she nods. She wants to tell him to not do it, that she could see all the many ways this could go wrong, but she knows he has a clear idea of what he's getting himself into. “Okay,” she says under her breath. “But I want to help.”

    He looks like he's about to argue, but he eventually gives in and nods, albeit hesitantly. She could've sworn she saw a shadow of guilt cross his face as they left the common room.

    Then came the time for them to ride the thestrals. She could feel all the hair stand up on her neck, but she looks at him and a bit of her fear melts away. She’s beyond terrified, but she trusts him. They exchange a knowing look before leaving, and it was enough to give her the push.

    She loves that he's spontaneous, that you never know what he's going to do next.

    And they kick off the ground.

    They were going to what could possibly be their own deaths, but he isn’t scared, so why should she be?

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

    It's a good day again. He's playing with her hands in the comfort of the Burrow as she talks about all the things they couldn’t fit in this different world. She kisses his hand in return, laughing at how his glasses rests askew on the bridge of his nose. He doesn’t want to talk about the events that transpired months ago, and so they do not talk of what happened in the Ministry. He doesn’t want to, and she respects that.

    She loves that he's hers, just as she's his.

    Now they're in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She's walking down the shelves with him for a minute, and he's gone the next. It's okay, she says to herself. He's probably with Ron and Hermione.

    She finds it surreal that they're in the same place they’ve always been in years before, only that they’re here for their sixth year. They become older and older but today is similar to their second year; for in the length of Great Hall, he's nowhere to be found, and she's not sure if he wants to be. The answer to this was answered some time later when Harry slipped in accompanied by none other than Professor Snape, who appeared to be taking pride in the pathetic attempt at furtive glances being thrown in the young boy's way. He then takes his seat next to Ron, appearing to be disgruntled.

    Later that night, she asks him what's wrong, but he only shakes his head in response. She leaves him be.

    On the surface, they're alright. Some may comment on the lack of what was once there, but they appear alright nonetheless; he walks with her shoulder up to shoulder from this class to another, exchanging curt and brief words with each other. We are alright, she keeps telling herself more often than she should. We’re alright.

    “See? I told you you’re meant to be an Auror,” she tells him after finding out about his success. “You never listen to me, Potter.”

    He just nods, but she doesn’t mind. His head’s on her shoulder, and who is she to complain? She strokes his hair gingerly, feeling his breathing on her arm. She lets her hand fall down to touch his, and she plays with five of his fingers.

    They’re the only people in the Gryffindor common room, and possibly in the whole world for the only sound she could hear was the steady flickering of the flames. It’s a good night.

    It’s their first class with Slughorn, and she watches curiously as he hands Harry and Ron secondhand books. She thinks about the Felix Felicis and how little she could make out of it. Harry seems to think otherwise; she tries to catch his eye in hopes of asking how he’s doing but he’s only focused on his own cauldron.

    She watches him.

    She watches as he grins in triumph over his prize. Hermione doesn’t seem pleased, and Ron is curious more than ever, and so is she.

    She wants to ask him about the book, but knew pushing it any further wouldn’t end up well. They’ve been together ever since that lovely fateful night of the Yule Ball, but they’ve been friends long before; long enough to know he wants to be alone.

    Harry comes back tired in every time he returns from Dumbledore’s office, a weight on his shoulders always heavier than the last time. Maybe it’s far too heavy for him to do so much as smile. She lets this slide as she walks with him side by side on their way to Potions again.

    “Didn’t you get your new book today?”

    “Hm? Oh, er — yeah. Right here.” He holds up the book to her eyes. She sees the yellowed paper edges of the book, but doesn’t bother to mention it. If he wants to tell her, he will.

    Whenever that is.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

    “Sickle for your thoughts?” she asks, holding out a small coin during that dreadful night after the Katie Bell incident. Harry only shakes his head, staring at the fireplace. She drops the coin on the table, throwing a scowl at the book for Potions as she prepared to take her leave.

    “Where’re you going?” Harry asks. “Are you mad at me?”

    “No,” she answers. “Just tired.”

    “I’m tired, too,” he says in a tone she assumes is accusatory. “I just want a break from all of this but I can’t.”

    She wants to say more, but doing so would make it all real. “I know, Harry,” she says. “I know.”

    She’s about to leave but he stands up from the couch to wrap his arms around her and press a kiss on her hair. “I’m sorry.”

    “What for?” she says with a sigh, raising her hand to stroke his arm.

    He doesn’t answer this question, possibly out of knowing it isn’t wise to do so, but she thinks it’s far from that. She knows he doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, but she lets him talk. “I’ll make it up to you.”

    “You don’t have to, it’s okay.” It isn’t. She could tell him right now that she’s tired of this and everything else in between, but she doesn’t. Her lips tremble as she talks, as if this alone is the most tiring moment of her life. She breaks away from him, not looking him in the eye as she bid him goodbye. “Goodnight, Harry. Sweet dreams.”

    She tossed and turned in her bed until four in the morning when she realized there’s no hope in trying to sleep.

    She keeps her eyes glued to the ceiling, but this is all for naught. It turns out telling yourself everything otherwise is a waste of good time, for it does nothing to keep her thoughts at bay.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

    The days pass by quickly, and the only thing she finds herself doing is watching the three of her friends fall apart. Harry kept to himself, but never away from that book.

    It’s alright, she tells herself for the umpteenth time. He needs space. But just how much does he need?

    As Lavender Brown walks past, she couldn’t help but envy the girl. Her and Ron are always on each other’s faces, and although it isn’t pleasing to look at, she wishes to have what they have. She used to have that with Harry, maybe even better. Oh, for sure it was better, and it was always a good day.

    When was the last time they talked?

    No, she shouldn’t question anything. He’s just busy with his noble quests and all that.

    She wouldn’t add up to his piles and piles of problems, and so she only silently glides into the couch occupied by none other than Harry himself, sitting down next to him. They’re staring at the fireplace as if it’s the only thing living in the world.

    “Sickle for your thoughts?” she asks with a smile.

    “Not right now,” he tells her, not even looking her way. He doesn’t see her eyes reddening, her throat locking, tears threatening to dance of their own accord down to her cheeks. He only sees her nod as she slips away once more, only this time he doesn’t call after her.

    There’s no easy way to tell a story such as this: She cries; she cries for the young love she thought she had. She weeps for the fun they had. It’s death without a funeral, death of a love she had yet to learn. But then again, it’s only puppy love, is it not? Isn’t that what they call it?

    The girl wipes her tears away.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

    He’s running, sweat trickling down from his temple to his neck. He rushes to Ron, asking to borrow his book.

    “Harry?”

    He immediately stuffs Ron’s copy of their book for Potions inside his bag.

    “Harry,” she says in an attempt to catch his attention.

    “What now?”

    She flinches, but she doesn’t stop. “What happened?”

    “This spell, I tried it and — just — I can’t explain it!”

    “Is this from your Prince guy again? Harry, I told you this was never—”

    “Never a good idea. Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

    “Harry,” she breathes, and Ron’s watching them uncomfortably. Harry doesn’t even spare her a look before leaving. He simply dashes out of the room, bag in hand, his cloak dancing behind him.

    The next time he saw him was the night after Gryffindor won, and they were seated once again in the common room, just the two of them like always.

    She’s doing an essay for Potions on the table.

    “I just remembered it’s our anni—” He takes a seat across from her, and she immediately stands up, the chair creaking backward. He looks up at her with a confused expression.

    She begins to pack her stuff: Her quill, her ink, her half-filled parchment paper, her—

    “[Y/N],” he starts. “[Y/N], what’s wrong?”

    She doesn’t respond.

    Her wristwatch tells her it’s one in the morning. The number one; it’s quite possibly the saddest number to exist, not even zero itself could amount to how alone one is.  To be nothing would be better than to be alone, and she was every bit as deserted as the number one is.

    “[Y/N], what’s your problem? Tell me,” he says, following her as she begins to shut her bag close. He takes her copy of Advanced Potion Making from the table, for she seems to have forgotten about it. “[Y/N], you forgot your—”

    She snatches the book from him. “I know.”

    “What’s your problem? [Y/N], you’re making me look like a fool here. [Y/N], what? What do you want? What, you’re tired? You want out?” He continues to follow her, his voice raising. “Come on, tell me. Are you tired? Do you want to end this right now? Do you—”

    “Yes!” she spats in a fit of anger, her eyes bloodshot. “Harry, I am very, very tired!”

    “What, you think I’m not? I lost people I love, [Y/N]. This whole thing is bigger than us whether you like it or not — I DON’T. You think we could have a normal relationship in a normal world? Think again!”

    “This is the problem with you — you never want to let people in because—”

    “Because I feel responsible for them, [Y/N]! Don’t you see? They’re throwing this Chosen One crap on me and expect me to save everyone and if I can’t, I’m the bad guy. And my friends! You, Ron, Hermione — every single person I know isn’t safe! And I hate that I can’t do anything about it, now will you please just. . .”

    But she’s not listening anymore. She only watches as he continues on talking until she couldn’t take it anymore. She raises her hand, slapping him across the face.

    It was silent once more.

    "You don't see this working out, don't you?" she breathes out.

    She loved that he constantly looks after the people around him. She loved that he's spontaneous, that you never know what he's going to do next.

    She hiccups, and she couldn’t catch her breath. She doesn’t know what to say, and her lips are talking on its own accord. “Why can’t you take care of yourself for once? Why do you always have to be the stupid hero? What, you can’t ask me how I’m doing, can’t remember what this day means to us but this!” Laughing mirthlessly, she waves the book in front of him and begins to hit it against the couch beside her repetitively. “You always have time for this — stupid — fucking — book! This stupid prince of yours! Now look where it got you!”

    She throws the book onto the floor stomping on it as she cried. She doesn’t care if she looked like a mere child throwing a tantrum. She’d been holding this back long, long ago.

    “That’s your book,” he says, pointing it out as he puts his hand up to his cheek.

    “Of course it is, because you just had to hide your own, don't you? Because it’s so precious to you!” She couldn’t breathe.

    She leaves her items on the floor and storms to the couch, her hands obscuring her face. It was silent for a long while.

    “Are you tired?” he asks, gently this time.

    She nods, sniffing.

    “Do you want out?”

    “Harry,” she chokes out, her breath hitching. “I feel like” — she coughed — “I feel like I’m wasting my time on this. Like it’s more of a chore than something I want to do.”

    “You don’t love me anymore?” he says under his breath, still not moving from the spot from which she had slapped him. He's not sure if he wants to know.

    She wipes the tears from her face, turning around from her seat to look at him. She looks back down on the floor. Merlin, she must be looking like a mess right now.

    “I love you, Harry,” she says. It doesn't help that this is the first time she's ever told him this, and looking down on the floor in an attempt to avoid him doesn’t make it any easier. “I love you more than anything I’ve ever loved, but I’m just so tired. I loved that you're mine and I'm yours but Merlin's beard, nothing has ever been this tiring before. I’m tired of telling everyone we know that everything is well, tired of assuring myself that every time we see each other maybe by some miracle you’d try a little bit harder — just a little bit — but I'm just tired of. . .everything.”

    “Are you tired of me?”

    She doesn’t answer, but he has a feeling he knows the answer to this. He watches her curiously as her back shudders from the crying.

    “Do you want to end this now?”

    She’s doesn’t answer again, and he takes her silence as a yes.

    "Do you want out?"

    "Please, just go," she says in between her sobs. "Please go."

    “Consider it done.” He bends down to fix her stuff on the floor and with one last look at her, he swallows the lump forming in his throat, making his leave, leaving her alone until she fell asleep with the dancing flames emanating from the fireplace her only company for the night.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

    It's her turn to walk down the aisle and as she does so, she makes sure to not look at the groom's Best Man who, on the other hand, couldn't tear his eyes away from the girl approaching his end. He thinks of how different things could've been. . .

    She stands not so far away from where Hermione will stand, and across from her is Harry himself. For once, she's glad Ron is tall enough to obscure him from view, but she keeps her eyes trained to the arch nonetheless, waiting for Hermione to walk in in a dainty and beautiful white dress. The Burrow's still, the tall grass dancing along.

    Hermione walks the length of the dolled up lawn of the Burrow. It's a good day; everyone wears smiles on their worn out faces, for all the events that had occurred a while back has taken its toll on them, but here they all stand.

    By the time Hermione reached the end, [Y/N] kept her eyes glued to Hermione this time, more than happy for her best friend.

    Later at the reception, music played and as per request from the groom's mother, one of Celestina Warbeck's songs. All the people stood up to dance except for a pair in a certain table, both parties of which shifted uncomfortably in their seats.

    And a sudden thought occurred to her: Maybe, just maybe, one doesn’t have to be a sad number. Their eyes meet for the first time in a long time, and it’s one of a kind; the now is not as unfortunate and bitter as it once was.

    It’s just the two of them in the table, but it’s comfortingly familiar. He stands up from his seat to occupy the vacant chair beside her.

    “Sickle for your thoughts?” he asks, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips.

    “That sounds better than a dime for my thoughts and I normally don’t take prices for my worries but I’ll take it.”

    He tosses a tiny coin on the table. She puts her hand over it, pulling it over the edge and holding it out in front of herself. “This isn’t a sickle,” she tells him, showing him the nickel.

    “Well, ‘Nickel for your thoughts’ doesn’t sound right anymore because I got too used to the first one.”

    “Me too,” she says. “I got used to it, too.”

    “Well? I paid you a Nickel. Where’s my purchased thought?” he teases, and they’re both laughing just like they just did not so long ago. Just as they’re used to the sentiment of the Sickle, they’re used to each other; seeing the other smile, making the other smile, just. . .each other.

    “Well, I was just thinking about how lonely it is to simply sit among a busy crowd."

    He stands up, adjusting his tie as he did so. He then offers his hand to her. “Er — dance?” he says, quoting what he'd said long, long ago at the Yule Ball.

    “Dance,” she replies, taking his hand without a second thought, and they just danced just like everyone else. From a distance, they'd only notice the main stars of the day — the groom and the bride. But between Harry and [Y/N], they're the only people once more. Nobody says anything, and both did not mind the other's company.

    They don't speak of the times they almost lost each other, nor of the time they gave up on what they had, no. Because right now, as far as anyone's concerned, the only thing to say is that it's a good day — better, even.

    And hopefully there'd be more to come.

A/N: kvlsjlvjwwo omfg finally finished this!!! i hope y’all paid attention to the numbers hAHAHAHAHA u can kinda tell i rushed the ending i’m sorry

Taglist: @gingerale2017 @maybanksslut @hey-there-angels @mrzweasley @gwlvr @booksarealwaysbettersworlds-blog @greenlyblue @henqtic @badass-yn @meiitanoia @gaycatlord-stuff @awakendevildays @crazy-beautiful @mistress-riddle @adoreyou976 @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @rowena-ravenclaws-diadem @sfdlm

[mixed-theater-faisty-tings]

Lovin’ Kind

Chapter Three Pairing: Riff x Latina! Summary: It’s the little things that matter. A/N: Welcome back!!!!! Enjoy Chapter 3!!! Kind of a long one i’m sorry. Thank you for all the love you’ve given the first 2 chapters ❤️

————————————————————— Catalina Pov

Tuesday’s are typically uneventful at the store so it’s a lot of me just hanging around and probably doing some drawing my Tia doesn’t mind as long as we keep the store clean. Tony went out for the day since he ran out of his basic needs and my Tia was running errands. I set my pencil down and look at the picture I was drawing…it was Riff’s chain with every last detail.

“That’s real pretty. Didn’t know you drew?’, a voice frightens me from behind. “Would you stop sneaking up on me like that!”, I shout turning and facing Riff. “But it takes the fun out of coming here.”, he laughs.

It was a sound I had never heard before…the angry little boy that had been stealing from here since he was 6 and for the first time he was laughing and I couldn’t help but smile. His laughter was full compared to the measly chuckle we got out of him every now and then and it left my ears ringing for more.

“So what brings you in for today’s visit? Tony isn’t here.”, I ask. “I’m here to see you actually”. He admits “Okay?”, I shut my sketchbook. “It was really just to check on you after yesterday. I don’t know what got into Diesel”, he kicks his foot around, his hands shoveled into his pockets.

“I’m fine. Thanks for showing up when you did.”, I say. “I was walking past on my way to the docks and saw him there figured it wasn’t good.”, he explains. “Well no harm, no foul.”, I walk past him towards the counter.

I look around the store, a feeling that we were both holding our breath fell over me, but I didn’t know why. I’ve never hated Riff didn’t have a reason to, I mean I tolerate him in the sense that he is Tony’s best friend but, he has been around a lot lately outside of Tony’s return. My finger runs across a paper I keep tucked into the register. I examen it as Riff looks through the music on the juke. ————————————————————————————

Riff’s Tab

1 pack of gum 10 cents

1 Milkyway 5 cents

Handful of Taffy 25 cents?

*Milkway after Milkway* ————————————————————————————

I started this tab as a joke a while back..it kept me busy while Tony was gone. The Jet’s may have stopped hanging out here doesn’t mean they ever went a day without candy. A soft hum begins to fill the store signaling he finally picked a song and I look up making contact with a candy bar. My hand gravitates towards it but I pull it back slowly, eventually with a mind of it’s own my fingers wrap gently around the chocolate and I hesitantly turn to face the other person in this space.

“Care for a Milkyway? On me.”, I hand him the candy and place a couple nickels in the till. “You don’t have to.”, he says. “Think of it as a token of my appreciation besides it’s paid for.”, I open up a Snickers bar.

We both stand in silence eating the chocolate avoiding eye contact. This was a weird moment for us both no arguing just us there co-existing. After tossing our trash I notice him digging in his pockets. He pulls out a little trinket and places it on the counter.

“For you”, he sits at the table away from me. “I’m sorry?”, I ask looking at the white trinket decorated gold with a pink rose in the middle. “The white thing it’s for you.”, he opens my sketch book looking through the pages. I have never seen him like this so quiet and just wandering about his space. No agenda, no remarks, just Riff. I take a second and admire the little thing sitting on the counter.

“It’s beautiful but why?”, I ask picking the item up. “Saw it around figured you’d appreciate a little thing like it.”, he continues flipping. “Hey wait don’t-“, my attempt to stop him is cut short. “This my chain?”, he shows the page to me. “Of course it’s not just something I was drawing for fun.”, I say maybe too quickly.

He pulls the silver out from his shirt and compares the two.,”Looks like it to me?”. “It was just an image in my head I was going off of.”, I try to jump ship. Before I can get another thought out he joins me at the counter the drawing in hand and the chain now removed from his neck and next to the picture,

“Every last detail is perfect down to the last dirt spec.”, he looks at me. I look up at him and finally realize how close we actually are. “You know how you told me the other day about your parents?”, he asks. “Yeah…lo siento- i’m sorry for blowing up like that.”, I look down.

“Won’t say I didn’t deserve it..but um the same thing happened with my parents.”, he admits. “I’m sorry.”, I look at the drawing once more. “Don’t be. This chain was actually my moms.”, he says. “It is beautiful.”, I look at the jewelry in his hand.

The door opens signaling the bell causing us to jump apart. We both look up and see Tony at the entrance.“Everything okay?”, he asks us. “Everything is fine. Did you get everything you needed?”, I ask him. “Yeah I did.”

“Well that is my cue to leave. Tony I’ll see ya at the docks later for some Jet business . Kitty Cat always a pleasure.”, he smirks and like that the moment is gone. “Catalina”, Tony corrects.

Riff lets himself out and Tony takes his stuff down to his quarters. I go to pick up my drawing stuff when I accidentally kick something. A silver chain laying on the ground…Riff must have dropped it when Tony walked in. I pick it up and take it to my little space placing it next to the white trinket. ————————————————————————————

Wednesday

Riff Pov

“Hey where ya headed buddy boy?”, A-Rab asks me “Just over to Doc’s need to talk to Tony.”, I say half truthfully. “Oh we planning something?”, he inquires “Not too sure yet. Why don’t you and the guys go play some basketball at the courts today? Been a while. I’ll meet up later.”, I say . “Alright. I’ll tell everyone to meet at the courts.”, he runs off.

Once he is out of sight, out of mind I grab a couple lollipops that were just around and a 5 dollar bill I pick-pocketed from some random lady.

On my way to Doc’s I thought about my conversation with Catalina yesterday, Tony is the only person who knew about my parents. The Jets may be my family but we don’t ever talk about the gory details leading us to this new home. On top of that I couldn’t help but wonder if her drawing my chain meant something. My thoughts are interrupted by me walking into the store pulling the lollipop out from between my teeth and nearly landing on my ass.

“I’m mopping dimwit”, Catalina laughs at me as I straighten myself up. “Well you missed a spot.”, I hop, skip and jump over to the table. “No I didn’t you just weren’t paying attention.”, she snickers. “Potato potAto doll.”, I say placing the candy between my teeth once more. “Hey now did you bring me one?”, she says putting a hand on her hip.

“As a matter of fact.”, I pull out hers and toss it at her. She catches it with ease and looks over at me. “Riff being nice?”, she questions. “It’s just candy you gave me one yesterday. No biggie.”, I say. “But what about the trinket yesterday?”, she adds. “Got me there.”, I admit in defeat.

“You dropped your chain yesterday by the way I have it in my room i’ll go get it once the floor dries.”, she hops onto the counter unwrapping her lollipop. I nod and we eat our candy having tiny word exchanges here and there. Tony was doing inventory downstairs and Valentina was in the back doing whatever old people do.

“Okay okay so tell me about you and Grazi.”, she says. “What about us?”, I ask. “Well what’s the deal between you two. Last I checked she was Tony’s Jet girl and now she is in your bed?”, she says. “ It’s nothing serious I mean I was keeping her company while Tony was gone.”, I admit.

“I’m sure you have no interest in a serious relationship “, she rolls her eyes. “What’s it to ya?”, I smirk. “Nothing I’m just say-“, she starts but I cut it short. “You’re just saying that I couldn’t possibly be committed?!”, I am getting defensive.

“No i’m saying that your definition of a relationship is “keeping someone company””, she uses air quotes. “And what’s wrong with that sweetheart. Getting jealous it’s not you making me breakfast in the morning.”, I smirk. “As if.”, she rolls her eyes and hops off the counter walking towards the back “Didn’t say I was done with you.”, I follow her.

She walks into what I assume is her “room” tossing my chain in my direction, I catch it. “Well i’m done with you.”, she shouts. “Why you getting mad at me you’re the one who asked.”. “Because Grazi deserves better than some bastardo!”, frustration clear in her words. “Bastard! Is that what you think of me!”, I yell.

“Was that not clear when I called you that.”, I throw my hands in the air completely offended by her name calling. “Maybe it’s cause I haven’t found the right girl to actually get serious with.”, I admit. “Then why string her along.”, she is calming down.

“I don’t know alright! Not like I had any role models.”, I say walking back to the front of the store. “Well maybe if you weren’t such an ass and treated girls with respect you wouldn’t have to be with someone you’re not committed to.”, she says I can feel her eyes on me.

I turn around and face her, “Or maybe i’ll just lose them like I lost my mom.”, I slam my mouth shut and make an effort towards the door. “You never know until you try..”, her voice is soft now. “Trying implies letting someone in. I can’t do that.”. my voice just above a whisper as memories of my Ma swirl in my head. “In a way you just did Riff..”., she is so easy to trust.

“But I shouldn’t have”. I finally say keeping my eyes down on the ground. “Riff..”, a hand reaches for me in comfort.

I place the 5 dollar bill on the counter, “For my tab” and with that I make my way out of store and run to the courts meeting the guys. ————————————————————————————

Catalina Pov

After Riff left, I sighed to myself and the conversation replayed in my head. These last few days with Riff have been out of the ordinary for sure, but I was liking this side of Riff the one who brought me little trinkets, and lollipops. My thoughts were interrupted by my Tia entering the front of the store.

“Everything okay? I heard shouting?’, she asks. “Si, just Riff being Riff.”, I lie. “What’s this five for?”, she picks it up. “Uh Riff paying off his tab.”, I tell her.

She gives me the most confused look i’d ever seen her wear. She makes sure it isn’t fake and I giggle a little. “Just accept it tia.”, I say. “We don’t trust Riff why would I?”, she looks at me. “Just trust me okay.”, I smile and go downstairs to see my best friend.

“Hola señorita.”, he smiles. “Hola hows it going down here?”, I ask sitting on his bed. “It’s fine. I was just packing up these cans so I could take them up to Valentina.”, he says double checking his numbers. “Riff came by today he paid off his tab.”, I say. “You sure it was Riff?”, he chuckles.

“Positive. My Tia is up there making sure the bill isn’t fake. Maybe stolen but not fake.” I laugh. “Interesting.”, he says. “So have you thought about the dance?”, I ask. “Nope cause i’m not going.”, he begins to carry the crate upstairs.

“But Tony it will be fun. We haven’t done anything since you got back.”, I beg. “Aren’t you going with your new friends?”, he says. “Point taken…you know you’re aren’t any fun sir.”, I stick my tongue out at him. “I’ll manage.”, he chuckles stocking shelves.

“Alright you two less chatter more stocking.”, My Tia smiles at us. Tony and I stock up the store and my Tia tells us stories about her and Doc..typical night. ————————————————————————————

Thursday

On my way into front of shop I notice a box on the counter that clearly wasn’t there when we locked up. Catalina is written across the top of it. “What’s that?”, My Tia asks me. “I don’t know but it’s apparently for me”, I slowly remove the top off the box.

Sitting in it is the red skirt I had admired just a few days before. Grabbing the waist of it I pull it out of the box and admire it once more but, a white paper falls from it taking my attention. ————————————————————————————

Catalina,

I can’t wait till tomorrow to see ya at the dance. Meet me for lunch today at the diner.

————————————————————————————

“Who is it from?”, she asks me. “The note isn’t signed. But it says can’t wait till tomorrow so I assume Junior?”, I answer. “Oye so thoughtful”, she smiles. “Yeah guess so…umm I have to go to Anita’s she wants to add final touches on my dress. Esta bien?”, I ask. “ Si, dile a todo el mundo que dije hola.(Yes, tell everyone I said hello)”, She kisses my head.

I nod, taking the box to my room before leaving to Anita’s apartment. The dress was dark red and fell off my shoulders and landed just above my knee, and moved with me as I twirled.

“Es hermosa! Muchas gracias.(It’s beautiful thank you so much!)”, I smile spinning in circles. “Me alegro de que te guste ahora deja de moverme para que pueda hacer ajustes tonta chica.(I’m glad you like it now stop moving so I can make adjustments silly girl.”, Anita laughs at me.

I stand still allowing her to do her work while Maria and I talked more about the classes and when we wanted to go sign up cause it had to be soon. She told me about working at Gimbels, she’s been trying to get me to work there with the other shark girls but, I am happy at Doc’s. Anita adjusts both our dresses before taking a step back and admiring her work.

“I’ve out done myself.”, she boasts herself. “They are beautiful”, we smile at her. “Muchas gracias hijas.”, she sits back at her machine to handle other things. “Want to hang out?’, Maria asks me. “I would but, I am meeting someone for lunch.”, I say. “Ooooh?”, she pokes at my sides “Not like that.”, I laugh. “Uh-huh tonta.” She smiles “I’ll give you the details tomorrow at the dance.”, I smile.

I hug them both goodbye and head over to the diner with my dress in hand protected in a cover. Walking into the diner I find Riff sitting in a booth, holding a purple flower in his hand.

“Hi.”, he says. “Riff? What are you doing here?”, I ask.“Was in the neighborhood.”, he leans back in the booth. “I was supposed to meet someone but-“ “Why don’t you sit i’ll buy ya lunch?”, he offers.

“As long as you promise not to call me Cat for the entirety of the the meal?”, I say sternly. “Cross my heart.”,he does the motion and I take a seat taking one last look around for Junior. “What’s with the flower?”, I ask. “For you..I was gonna drop by Doc’s later but since you’re here.”, he hands it to me. “It’s beautiful…what for?”. “Apologize for yesterday.”, He admits. “Like you said I brought it up.”, I look down. “Why don’t we move on?”, he suggests. “Sure.”, I say.

“What’s in the cover thingy?”, he points at my dress. “It’s my dress for tomorrow, my friend altered a dress for me and it is gorgeous.”, I smile. “Yeah about the dance..I was serious about taking ya.”, a small smirk planted in his lips. “You have Grazi remember and she really wants to dance with ya. She’s just been raving all over town how good of a dancer you are.”, I say.

“Can’t blame her for that but..I mean come on I think we could have some fun together.”, he says. “I kind of already have a date as well. Some Sharks are setting me up”, I admit looking down. “Oh..well I guess I will still see you there maybe at least save me a dance?”, he asks. “I’ll think about it”, I say.

We continue to talk and order just a plate of fries to share with 2 cokes. The more we talked, the more I realized that Riff isn’t that bad at all, sure he is troubled but who isn’t. This new found kindness obviously doesn’t excuse the bad things he’s done but I can’t hold the past against him can I? In the last few days he’s only acknowledged me as Cat maybe once or twice and there hasn’t been any problems between the gangs.

“Earth to Catalina”, he waves a hand in front of my face. “Sorry what were we talking about?”, I shake my head. “The time you, Tony and I scared the old bat she nearly threw her slipper at us.”, he laughs. “She wanted to murder us that day I swear I have never seen my Tia rip her Chancla off so fast.”, I laugh.

“Tony and I ran so fast.”, he laughs harder. “I know leaving me to deal with the aftermath!”, I glare playfully. “She’s your aunt or whatever we weren’t about to stick around for that.”. “Alright that’s it i’m walking out.”, I joke. “No don’t go.”, he says. “I was kidding”, I say looking at the time it was 3 o’clock.”We’ve been here for 3 hours Riff.”.

“Really? Hasn’t felt that long.”, he looks at the clock. “I know it’s insane.”, I look around. “Do you have to go?”, he asks me. “No actually I’m okay here if you are.”, I look at him. “I am too Catalina”, he says. “You called me Catalina.”, I am shocked. “Don’t be so surprised I do know your name.”, he chuckles.

“I just mean our whole lives you have made the stupid cat jokes.”, I roll my eyes. “It was just us Jets being stupid. I never truly meant anything by it..just pushing buttons is all.”, he leans towards the table.

I lean towards it too putting us nearly nose to nose,” Well you certainly succeeded at that.”, I flick his forehead. “Ow”, he says. “Pay back”, I stick out my tongue. “Okay okay, I deserve that”, he rubs his temple.

It was like being with Tony but on a different level. We were laughing and enjoying the company till the diner closed and eventually kicked us out. There was this feeling in the pit of my stomach as time went on especially when we both went to pay for the fries and our ands grazed each other’s setting down some bills. “Let me walk you to Doc’s the streets ain’t safe at night.”, he says. “Okay then”, I don’t fight it.

I carry my dress and the flower in my arms draped in front to my stomach as we walk the quiet, darkened streets of our beloved city. “You know it’s sad seeing a new building torn down each day…our little barrio may not be perfect but for us it is home”, I say looking around.

“I was telling Tony the other day that I wake up to everything I know being torn down, sold, or taken over, I guess that’s why I fight. This is my only place to call home and i’m losing it, I don’t wanna lose the guys too.”, Riff opens up.

“What do us Puertorriqueños have to do with that?”, I ask. “They are taken it over.”, he points out in a duh tone. “What I mean tonto, is that the city is taking it over from all of us we aren’t trying to take your turf as you call it. We are making a home too. The city is taking it from us just as much as from you. Just cause you’ve “been here longer” we don’t reserve a right to a home?”, I debate.

“You’re kinda making sense..”, he sighs. “ You boys are all too angry to think logical.” I say. Riff doesn’t respond instead we approach the store and he stops to look at me. “So what about the dance you owe me?”, he asks. “Maybe I will save you just one dance.”, I smile. “Good to know girly girl.”, he winks.

“But what about Grazi?”, I ask. “Not doing this again..just don’t worry about it okay. Let it be.”, he rolls his eyes. “Right its just company.”, I say. “Catalina-“.,  exasperation hidden in his tone. “No Riff just let Grazi keep ya company at the dance alright I will be with Junior.”. my hands go up in defeat.

I angrily walk into the store locking up before Riff could try to fight. He throws his hands in the air and walks away frustrated. I lean against the door starring at the purple flower from him. I really would love a dance with him…perhaps more than one but I can’t be there just to be shown off by the Jet leader…I won’t. I will go with Junior and smile through the night like a good Puerto Rican.

I go into my room and hang up my dress so it doesn’t get ruined and look at the skirt laying on my bed…wearing this to the dance would just show Junior I want this relationship but I don’t..I can meet my own dates! I bury the skirt in the back of my clothes and lay the flower next to Tuesdays trinket. Tomorrows dance is going to be an adventure.

@whisperofsong @theforgottenmcrmy @belenchies @riffheartsgraziella @inkandpen22 @dellaspinstales

[peachscribe]

peach’s summer book list

i had a lot of fun compiling the list of books i read during the 20-21 winter, so i decided i would do a summer one as well! i still have a lot of books i own but haven’t read, so im definitely not lacking in material

if you didn’t see my winter list, how my book list works is basically like this: i read a book that i own but have not previously read, write a short summary immediately after finishing the book, write down my thoughts on the book, and then provide a rating for the book. i also might include background info on why i read this particular book/feelings about the author, but that depends on the book. that’s how each entry works

without further ado, let’s get started!

1. Grasshopper Jungle by Andrew Smith

okay so i absolutely adore another book by andrew smith (written after grasshopper jungle) called the alex crow. it’s one of my favorite books of all time, so naturally i wanted to see if grasshopper jungle would make me feel similarly. just like the alex crow, grasshopper jungle’s plot is. so fucking weird. it stars austin szerba, a teenage polish kid who lives in ealing, iowa, and is often sexually confused regarding his girlfriend shann and his best friend robby. and in ealing, iowa, austin and robby accidentally and unknowingly unleash an unstoppable army of huge six-foot-tall praying mantis bugs that only want to do two things: fuck and eat. and i just have to say: andrew smith’s got an absolutely dynamo writing style. alex crow is similar, where it’s a book about kind of everything all at once, framed in a moment centering around teenage boys. it’s fantastic, and it’s more than a little gross, and i love it. this book made me feel so many things, and i thought austin was such an amazing narrator and main character to identify with. this book has it all: shitty teenage boy humor, fucked up science experiments, and poetic imagery that will make you want to cry. and explicit lgbt characters.

412/10 andrew smith what do you put in your water i just want to know

2. Burn by Patrick Ness

patrick ness has written a plethora of some of my favorite books (such as a monster calls, the chaos walking trilogy, and the rest of us just live here) so when i saw this one in the store i knew it would be a great one. burn is an alternate history fantasy that takes place in 1957 frome, washington, during the height of the cold war, and it begins with a girl named sarah and her father hiring a dragon to help out on their farm. but there’s not just dragons, farm living, and cold war tensions; there’s also a really shitty small town cop, a cult of dragon worshippers and their deadly teenage assassin, a pair of fbi agents, and a prophecy that sarah’s newly hired dragon claims she’s a part of. i think eoin colfer’s highfire was on my winter list, which also featured a story that included dragons and shitty cops, so when i first began burn i thought it was funny to have two books that had both things. you know, if you had a nickel etc etc. but that’s really where the similarities end because burn is entirely it’s own monster (dragon). burn is entirely invested in its world, and its fascinating. not only that, i had no clue where the book would take me next. there were so many surprises and amazing twists that honestly just blew me away. this book also includes beautifully written complicated discussions on family, race, and love - it features interracial and queer romances as the two most prominent romance plots which was such a nice surprise from a book i wasn’t expecting to have that kind of representation. this book is witty, fast-paced, and a very heartening read - i absolutely adored it.

9/10 dragons and becoming motivated by the power of love and friendship are so fucking cool

3. As Meat Loves Salt by Maria McCann

i hate this book! as meat loves salt is a historical fiction novel which takes place in seventeenth century england, which is going through a grisly civil war. the protagonist, jacob cullen, is a servant for a wealthy household and is engaged to another servant in the house. but due to certain events that are almost entirely jacob’s fault, he flees the house and is separated from his wife. from there, he joins the royal army and meets a kind soldier, ferris, and the two become fast friends. jacob and ferris’s relationship begins to bridge past friendly, and jacob struggles with his homoerotic feelings as well as the growing obsession and violence inside him. also, they try to start a colony. listen, i don’t know how to describe the book because so much happens, but it basically just follows jacob and all the terrible decisions he makes because he is, truly, a terrible person. ferris is kind and good, and jacob is scum of the earth. he sucks so bad. the entire time i was reading this book (which took absolutely so long), all i wanted was for jacob to just get his ass handed to him. i wanted to see him suffer. and it’s not like i just personally don’t like him - i believe the book purposefully depicts him as unsympathetic even though he is the narrator. i did enjoy the very in depth and accurate portrayal of what life would’ve been like in seventeenth century england, and i think it was interesting to read a character that is just the absolute worst person you’ve ever encountered and see him try and justify his actions, so if you enjoy that kind of thorough writing, then this book would be perfect for you. however, i did not see that bitch ass motherfucker jacob cullen suffer enough. i’d kill him with my bare hands.

2/10 diversity win! the worst man on earth is mlm!

4. This Savage Song by Victoria Schwab

i know ive had a friend tell me how great one of schwab’s other book series is, but truthfully i bought this book because the cover is sick as hell and it was on a table in the store that advertised for buy two get one free, i think. something like that. anyway, this savage song takes place in a future in which monsters, for whatever reason, suddenly became real and out for blood in a mysterious event nicknamed the phenomenon. august flynn is one of these monsters, but he takes no pride in that fact and only wants to feel human. kate harker is the daughter of a ruthless man and is trying her hardest to be ruthless, too, but deep down she knows it’s just an act. their city, verity, stands divided, and kate and august stand on either side - but when august is sent on a mission to befriend kate in the hopes of stopping an all out war, the lines begin to blur. this book rules. august and kate are such interesting and dynamic characters, and the narrative is familiar while still being capable of twisting the story around and taking the feet out from under you in really compelling ways. this savage song is part of the monsters of verity duology, and i can’t wait to dive into how the story continues and finishes.

11/10 sometimes you can judge a book by it’s cover

4a. Our Dark Duet by Victorian Schwab

this is the sequel and finale for this savage song and i’d figure i’d update everyone: fantastic ending, beautiful, showstopping, painful.

12/10 loved it and will definitely be keeping an eye out for schwab’s other books

5. White is for Witching by Helen Oyeyemi

oh boy. okay. white is for witching is about a house, and it is about the women who have lived inside of it. when her mother dies abroad, miranda silver begins to act strangely, and there’s nothing her father or her twin brother seem to be able to do about it. she develops an eating disorder and begins to hear voices in the silver family house, converted to a bed and breakfast by miranda’s dad; and she begins to lose herself in the house and the persistent presence of her family legacy. white is for witching switches perspective dizzingly and disorientingly between miranda, her twin eliot, miranda’s friend from school named ore, and the house itself. this story is a horror story as much as it as a tragedy as much as it is a romance as much as it is a bunch of other things. oyeyemi brings race, sexuality, nationality, and family into this story and forces you not to look away. this book is poetry.

(like i mentioned briefly, this book heavily deals with topics of race and closely follows miranda’s eating disorder. read responsibly, and take care of yourselves)

15/10 this book consumed me and i think i’ll have to read it another 10 more times to feel it properly

6. These Violent Delights by Chloe Gong

okay. okay. strap in for a ride. these violent delights is a romeo and juliet style story, taking place in glittering 1920’s shanghai. the city stands divided - not only between the foreign powers encroaching on chinese land, but also between the scarlet gang and the white flowers, who are at the height of a generations-long blood feud. juliette cai, heir to the scarlets, has recently returned from four years abroad and is determined to prove herself ruthless enough to lead. roma montagov, heir to the white flowers, is standing strenuously on his place as next in line due to a slip up four years prior and is desperate to keep hold of his title. and in the midst of juliette and roma’s burning history with each other threatening to combust, an unnatural monster lurks in the waters of shanghai, loosing a madness on scarlets and white flowers alike. this book has it all - scorned ex lovers, political intrigue, deadly monsters, and all set on a glamorous backdrop of the roaring twenties. i absolutely was enraptured by this book and the way it plays around the story of romeo and juliet so well that it easily became it’s own monster, but with the punches and embraces of something classically shakespearan. gong does just an absolutely breathtaking job of fitting this fantastical story amid the larger world of shanghai and the real life historical events that had shaken the city to its core. completely immersive and outstandingly heart racing.

17/10 i was chewing on my fingernails for the last thirty pages and will continue to do so until the sequel is released (our violent ends, 16 nov 21)

7. The Antiques by Kris D’Agostino

you ever heard of the american dysfunctional family story? this is most definitely that. at the same time george westfall’s cancer takes a turn for the worse, a hurricane hits the east coast, and suddenly all at once the issues of his health, the hurricane, and all three of his children’s achingly dysfunctional adult lives are crashing into each other. reunited by george’s death, the westfall siblings have to face their grief, each other, and the problems in their own lives they attempted to put on hold while planning their father’s memorial. this is a nice story about grief and loss and love and somehow finding the humor amidst it all.

(this book does include a depiction of an autistic child who does experience several pretty bad meltdowns due to ignorant people around him not understanding how to cater to his needs. im not an authority on what depictions are or are not harmful, but i do believe this depiction is ultimately loving and well-intended.)

7/10 it made me laugh and cry and was generally one of those books that somehow hit you close to home

8. Fierce Fairytales by Nikita Gill

fierce fairytales is a poetry anthology that reimagines classic fairytales from a modern, feminist viewpoint, acknowledging that the line between hero and villain, monster and damsel, are not as clear cut as the classics try to make you believe. this book also includes illustrations done by the author herself, which i think is really cool. my personal favorite story reimagining was the story of peter pan and captain hook, called ‘boy lost’ which looked at how peter and hook’s relationship began and rotted. all in all, i think this collection of stories had a lot of important things to say and said them in frank, easy to understand poetry and prose.

7/10 beautiful message and pretty prose, but at times a little cliche

and that’s all from the summer! my fall semester starts tomorrow, and overall i feel very good about all the reading i did this summer. i even read four other books not on this list for work! so i definitely feel like i made the most out of my time, and im really glad i was able to read so many stories that made me feel a variety of different things

thanks so much for reading this list, and let me know if you read or have read any of these books and tell me what you think of them!

happy reading<3

[moreidsdaughter]

spencer reid fluff alphabet

summary: a fluff alphabet that took way to long....

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1637

a/n: wowowowow i'm not dropping something out of nowhere...

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

spencer loves the way you put dedication into the things you do, whether it’s writing, reading, your job, staring at the television, watching your favorite show while being curled up on the couch or taking care of things around the house.

what do you find attractive about spencer? many things obviously, but his mind definitely is at the top of the list. You adore his mind, you adore the way he can ramble for days at a time. if you need him to be quiet, you hug him or plant a soft kiss on his lips.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

yes, for sure. you know that spencer would be a great dad, especially because of the way he is with kids. however, he wants to have one when he feels it’s safe. safe meaning not working at the bau. at the same time, he knows that he can’t protect his child from the world, so what’s stopping him?

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

spencer loves cuddling facing you with one of his arms securely wrapped around your waist. He pulls you as close to him as possible and lays your head on his shoulder. He nuzzles his head into your head and takes in the smell of your shampoo. then he places a light kiss on your head

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

spencer prefers to stay in and order takeout and watch movies, or read to you on the balcony. he tries to do these things with you once a week, but his job can get in the way. in spencers’ mind, as long as you’re doing something together, he’s happy.

when you and spencer do get out, you like to go on coffee dates or picnics. You two normally choose food and drinks. then you lay it all out on a blanket in a park. On coffee dates, you and spencer share your thoughts on different topics. spencer normally brings up books and you normally bring up current events and pop culture.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…))

“you’re my home.” spencer whispered, his hands grabbing yours. you took a second to process his words. “you are the reason i keep going. you're the only person i feel truly comfortable around without any judgment. when i’m with you, i’m at peace with myself and i’ve never felt that way in my life.” he took a gentle breath. “when i’m with you i feel at home and even though it doesn’t make sense, you've told me that it doesn’t have to. none of this has to make sense because i’m in love”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

spencer knew that he was in love when you started repeating facts that he said to your friends. one time you had been at a birthday party and you said  “more people celebrate their birthdays in august than in any other month. about nine percent of all the people on earth have august birthdays.” you giggles after rambling. spencer looked at you with a smile, he couldn’t wait to hug you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

spencer is the most gentle human being on the planet. he’s always patient and careful with you, he has one of the softest souls you’ve ever come across. he loves being gentle with you. he watches you when you’re sick, even though he despises germs. he loves to leave soft kisses all over you and he loves hugging you. your pet names for him match his actions towards you. you call him: bubba, sweet boy, my love, baby. he’s always looking out for you and he puts you first even though you tell him not to.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

spencer isn’t the biggest fan of public affection, but he loves to hold your hand in private. When you and spence are alone, likes to do one of these two things, interlocking your fingers or he holds your hand and rubs circles into your palm.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

spencer met you in a coffee shop and you were reading one of his favorite books. he sat down at your table and asked you about your thoughts on the book. even though you weren’t done yet, he could tell that your thought process is similar to his. when he found out that your thoughts aligned and how the way that you process is similar to his, he knew that you were someone worth getting close to.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?)

sometimes, it’s never because of you, but his own insecurities. spencer trusts you a lot and he knows that you'll never hurt him, but it doesn’t stop his mind from wandering. when people are affectionate with you in public it makes him jealous. he furrows his brows and his hands clench because his mind is thinking would she like me better if i was more affectionate in front of other people?

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

spencer’s kisses are soft and affectionate, which makes him a good kisser in your eyes. he never rushes and he’s always gentle. it doesn’t matter if it’s a peck or a makeout session, most of the time he will take it slow.

you initiated the first kiss technically. you asked “can i kiss you?” and he responded with “yes.” you brought a hand to his cheek and slowly moved your lips in closer. when your lips connected it was magical, you smiled into the kiss and he did as well. then you giggled and pulled your lips from his.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

spencer. you’re walking into your apartment with him after a date at a museum and you place your bag and coat down. spencer does the same and sits himself down on the couch. once you sit down, you turn on the television and spencer wraps his arm around your shoulder. you're slowly drifting to sleep and your head is falling onto spencer’s shoulder. when spencer thinks you're asleep he whispers “i love you so much, you’re my home and you make me feel safe in a corrupt world of madness.” what he didn’t know was that you were still awake, so you returned his words “i love you too bubba.”

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

it was your first christmas together as a couple and you wanted to decorate a tree together. You dragged him to buy christmas decorations and a tree. the tree wasn’t big, but it was your tree. you guys decorated the tree with different color bulbs and other cool decorations. spencer was begging to put the star on top of the tree, so you let him. you baked cookies and made hot chocolate. Then you guys sat on the couch watching christmas movies and you fell asleep on each other.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

spencer isn’t a very materialistic guy, he prefers intimate moments over items. however, when he does get you a gift he makes sure that it’s something meaningful.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

soft colors, like pale yellows and neutrals. these colors are what make spencer feel at home and he sees you as his home. one of yellow’s meanings is clarity, that’s how spencer sees you, you help him see things.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

spencer doesn’t have a lot of pet names for you, but the ones he has are special to him. Spencer likes the classic pet names; sweetheart, honey and baby. occasionally he’ll swap those out for your nickname.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?)

spencer isn’t quite up to date with technology, so he likes almost everything that’s older. specifically he likes reading books and writing things in typewriters or by hand. he just thinks that there's something about it that makes him feel warm on the inside.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

spencer loves curling up to you on the couch and reading to you on rainy days. he likes drinking a warm beverage like tea or hot chocolate. eventually, you’ll try to convince him to watch a show and then you guys fall asleep.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

spencer is pretty good at cheering you up, he always tries to make funny jokes or watch a funny movie with you. if he can’t make you feel better, he’ll just be there. he’ll ask you questions about why you're upset and try to find the root of the problem. however, he will never be pushy about these things, he just wants to be there and make you comfortable.

making spencer feel better is a hard task. normally he just shuts down when he gets like this, he’ll mope around the house and stay quiet. he thinks that he can get over the issue himself, but he can’t. It takes awhile for him to open up, but once he does, it never stops. at the end of the day, he just wants a hug and some cuddles.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

spencer loves to talk about literature and facts. he never has nothing to talk about because he can go on and on for days about anything, but literature is definitely his favorite.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

you. you help spencer relax. whenever he’s in a room with you, his bundle of nerves just melt away.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

his knowledge. he’s not afraid to dish out facts around others, unless he’s told to stop. sometimes he can’t help it, but he’s still so proud of his mind.

being with spencer is great, but it’s easy to feel small compared to him. Spencer tries to make sure that never happens, he’s your hype man. he hypes you up for anything like fixing something or decorating a room.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?)

it was at a team dinner. it wasn’t in front of the team though, he pulled you out to rossi’s backyard and got down on one knee. when you went back inside, you didn’t say anything because you wanted to see how long it would take the team to notice. let's just say, the team found out within minutes because spencer couldn’t keep a smile off of his face.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

spencer doesn’t really listen to modern music, he listens to mostly classical music. however one time, he’s listening to music with the team and garcia puts one fool for you by zayn malik. it makes him think of you almost instantly. the ballad with hints of piano making him think of your softness and his love for you.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

yes.  all the time after a year of dating, but very early on he had a small sense that you were going to marry him. it didn’t become real until you met his mom, diana reid loved you from the moment she laid eyes on you.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

A cat. it’s low maintenance with your work schedules and it can roam around on its own.

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[pp-research]

Rich Dad Poor Dad Review in 2021: #1 Personal Finance Book? why

Although there are many opportunities around the world, people are still struggling to manage finances because of their lack of knowledge. Robert Kiyosaki , the author of this book is fortunate to learn from the experience of the two fathers. One is his real father, and the other is the father of his best friend.

His real father had a good education, but his financial situation was not good. After finishing the eighth grade, he had to give up his studies. However, nothing can stop him from becoming a millionaire. He learned financial knowledge from his second father and encountered many problems at home because of his real father.

From the perspective of managing personal finances, rich fathers and poor fathers are best sellers . In this summary, we will provide you with the details of what Kiyosaki taught in this book.

Poor dad about rich dad:

Although Robert is poor, the schools he goes to are mainly rich people. We all know that teenagers may be cruel to their partners in poor physical condition, and Robert has to face a similar problem, which led him to an answer to the question: "How can I make money?" He and him My best friend Mike decided to make money and came up with the illegal idea of ​​removing nickel from lead. But Robert's poor father explained to him the drawbacks of the business, and they gave up the idea.

The poor father told them that Mike's father was very good at making money and they should learn to make money from him. Therefore, Mike arranged a meeting with the father of the rich man, and this is how Robert's journey towards financial independence took place.

The meeting with Mike's father went well, and he agreed to teach them, but by the way, life would teach them, not in a classroom way, so he asked them to work for him. He rented these two people for 10 cents an hour and asked them to work 3 hours on Sunday. One of the main rules of trading is that the duo should not ask any questions about the transaction. Therefore, the first lesson they learn from rich fathers is that when they come, you must seize the opportunity.

A few weeks later, Robert wanted to resign. His poor father asked him to ask for 25 cents an hour, but he did not give him a raise. He had to quit. But before the meeting, Robert had to wait 60 minutes, which made him angry, and he told his rich father that he was just exploiting him. Father Rich now explained to him that he sounded like an employee and suggested that he find another way to make money by working with other people. He tells him that he has two options: one is that he can become an employee and blame others for his problems, or he can choose a difficult path and become a rich man.

The second lesson he learned from Robert Kiyosaki is the middle class work for money, but the rich make money work for them. He also told them that he was angry with robbers and he was happy because in addition to passion, when employees are controlled by fear, you must also generate anger and sparks internally, which is why they allow themselves to be exploited. They have a lot of fears, such as being fired and they will have to look for work again. They will have no money to pay bills or more. Therefore, even though employees are dissatisfied with their salary, they continue to work for the rest of their lives, and the tax cut makes them unhappy. This was the first time that Robert introduced the tax system when he was only 9 years old.

After that, Robert and Mike reached a new agreement. They started working for Robert again, but this time they worked with him for free. This process lasted three weeks. While working with him, he taught them another lesson.

The third lesson he told him was that they should work because they love their job, not because they want money or fear. This inspired two boys, and they opened a comics library and made about $10 a week. Although the struggle between them broke down after three months and they were advised to close the company, the two boys did learn how to make money at a very young age.

The author says that rich people will never work for money. According to this book, rich people work for them to make money. However, most people do not understand the meaning of this sentence when trying to arrange their financial situation.

Many people around the world want a raise because they believe that more money will make them happier. But in reality, making money means taking risks and getting out of your comfort zone. In order to take risks, you will have to use your knowledge instead of relying solely on your salary to work hard. But due to limited income options, low salaries and debt, this seems impossible.

Working for money will produce fear and greed, which will guide your life and give you a label at a low price. But you can get out of this vicious circle.

Rich Dad Poor Dad Book & Why teach financial literacy?

The author talks about saving money. He said that it has nothing to do with how much money you make, but with how much money you save. By depositing money, he means acquiring assets instead of locking them in your bank account.

He said that the middle class works for three key groups:

#1 Companies: They make owners and shareholders richer.

#2 Government: You work for the government because a large part of your income goes to taxes.

#3 Bank: One of the biggest expenses of the middle class is bank mortgages and credit card debt.

he said that people should receive financial education. In his book, he mentioned that many people around the world are educated but are blind in economics. If you have no economic education, then you will fail. He also cited examples of millionaire Americans in different industries who suddenly lost everything. When you recognize the importance of capital flow and learn to invest in valuable assets, you will have real financial knowledge. This kind of financial knowledge is your way to a successful start.

Some examples of debt owned by the middle class are:

1. car loan

2. mortgage

3. School loan

4. Credit card debt

5. Bank loan

Some examples of assets owned by the affluent class are:

1.share it

2.Construction real estate

3.stock

4.Bond

5.intellectual property

6.Description

Three key difference between rich and poor:

1. The rich will buy assets.

2. The poor will only have expenditures.

3. People belonging to the middle class only buy debt, and they mistakenly believe that debt is an asset.

According to this book, what is the main difference between the rich and the poor?

Poor father said that the rich should pay more taxes.

Rich dad said that if you generate taxes, you will be rewarded.

The poor father asked him to study hard so that he could find a job in a good company.

Rich dad asked him to study so that he could buy a good company.

The poor father told him that he could not bear children because he had children.

The rich father told him that he had children, so he became rich

Asked the poor father not to talk about money and business while eating.

Rich dad asked him to do the opposite.

The poor father would ask him not to take risks.

Instead, the rich father told him to manage the risk.

Final words: Rich Dad Poor Dad Book Review 2021:

This book is a bible for those who dream of achieving financial freedom and reading from their debts and debts. Therefore, if you want to get rich and improve your financial IQ, I suggest that you must read and actually apply this book.

We hope this article suits your purpose well. If this article is helpful to you, please share it on social media channels.

Thanks for reading , 🙏🙏

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Welcome To Backwater ch.2 (spicyhoney)

Summary: Stretch isn’t running away, not really.

He took the bus.

Only to end up in a little town in the middle of nowhere, meeting unusual people, dealing with unexpected happenings, what the hell is going on in this place?

Content:  Spicyhoney, Midwest Gothic

Note:  Just as a heads up, I'd give this story a warning for mild horror and mild gore. None of our boys, but better to let y'all know!

~~*~~

Read Chapter Two ‘Meet and Greet’ on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

For the next week Stretch spent most of his time trying to figure out the method in the madness to Red’s store management. His first day of ‘training’ pretty much consisted of Red showing up long enough to demo the cash register and then shuffling off to the apartment at the back where he lived. Not that pushing a couple of numbered buttons was that complicated, but that wasn’t the only issue cropping up around here along with the local corn.

First of all, nothing in the shop was priced. All the items were recorded in a ragged notebook with coffee ring stains on the cover, where Stretch got to figure out if an item fell under the category of ‘toilet paper’, ‘paper, toilet’, ‘ass wipers’, or ‘shitty ass wipers’, all written in Red’s sloppy handwriting. The sheer number of items that fell under ‘ass’ and ‘shitty’ were staggering.

Turned out, the little store actually did a fair amount of business. Plenty of Humans stopped in to pick up one or two things rather than drive to the nearest Wally World which according to Granny Collemore, who Stretch was guessing was the unofficial town gossip, was better than a thirty-minute drive away.

“Don’t need to be driving an hour for a little bum tissue,” she bellowed happily, “shopping day is Sunday, we’ll stock up then!”

Stretch nodded as he rang her up, wincing away from her volume. He’d figured out pretty quickly that the old woman was stone deaf, but she didn’t seem to care if all she got was a smile and plenty of nods, so that was fine.

She handed over a wad of cash pulled from a little embroidered change purse that let out a puff of lavender so strong when she opened it that it overshadowed the store’s normal musty smell, hollering the whole time. By the time she left, Stretch knew enough about the local weather patterns to make a rain prediction and that the way someone named Pritchard was hamming on a pretty young’un Eloise meant they’d best they be married soon ‘fore it turned into a shotgun wedding. He nodded along with every proclamation, hurrying around the counter to open the door for her and ended up spending five minutes waiting for her to shuffle her way out, her bunny slippers leading the way.

But as she was leaving, she reached up and gave him a gentle pat on the cheekbone, her wrinkled hand barely able to reach. “You’re a nice boy,” she told him, too loud and with a pink, gummy smile.

Stretch was too startled to flinch away and only managed to mumble a thank you as she headed off into the growing heat of the morning, a hunched figure in a flowery dress and pink slippers, her bag of emergency tp bumping against her hip as she trundled along.

That was another thing. He’d thought that the Humans around here would be distrustful, even malicious, but that wasn’t proving to be the case. Aside from a little surprise when they first saw him, all the customers so far were small-town kindly. Kids came into the shop to raid the nickel-candy rack, their bikes left in piles outside as excited groups came roaring in. Mothers came in with babies wearing only their diapers, fanning themselves and laughing out their, ‘my, isn’t it a hot one today?’ as they bought a half-gallon of milk and some fresh apples to put in the bottom of their strollers.

No one in town seemed to care that he was a Monster past asking his name and maybe it was just ‘cause of Red being a skeleton, too. Could be that Granny Collemore was out there somewhere bellowing that the local shopkeeper had family visiting, who knew? It was sure different than he was used to. The general sentiment in Ebott about Monsters was resentment; over them taking jobs, enrolling in the schools, whatever it was, they didn’t want Monsters doing it.

It was…nice, he decided, to not have someone dislike him on sight.

That was how he spent his mornings. He worked in the shop, idly dusting, putting away the deliveries that a guy in the pickup truck and overalls brought in daily, and borrowing Red’s wifi to listen to soft music on his phone. The calls had trickled to only once a day and the glaring red alert number of his messages kept climbing.

Stretch didn’t look at them, only skipped right over to Spotify and the 'The Wedding Singer Divorce Special pt 2' playlist.

Red came in every day to relieve him at around two. He grunted out something that resembled a hello as he heaved himself up on the stool, leaning his cane against it as he pulled out a battered romance novel from beneath the counter. The creased covered did not in the slightest hide the young, scantily-clad woman caught up in a fiery embrace with her highland Lord.

“be back later,” Stretch said as he hung up his apron. Not that it mattered, wasn’t like Red was his dad or even a friend, not really, and he didn’t care when Stretch came home. A couple times they’d eaten together, takeout from the local diner that was imaginatively called ‘Mama’s’, not ‘Eats’, watched a little but that was it. His lack of idle chitchat was the complete opposite of Blue’s constant stream of chatter and after years of that, the silence was kinda disconcerting, but maybe not in a bad way.

Red didn’t even look up from his book, only pulled a crumpled bill out of his pocket and pushed it across the counter, “pick up some beer at the station, wouldja?”

“sure,” Stretch said, almost grateful for something else to do. It was miles better than sitting the rest of the day in his little room with its faded, floral wallpaper where the air conditioning wasn’t quite able to combat the heat of the mid-afternoon sun. He’d done that once, the first day, and after that made a point of staying out of his room until sundown to give it chance to cool off.

The town itself wasn’t much more than a bunch of ramshackle houses. To the west were fields, the leafy tops of what Stretch was now certain was corn rustling in the wind. Off to the east, the landscape slowly went from flat plains to trees, their wilting leaves yellowing in the heat and ending in a wooded area that surrounded maybe half the town. Shame it was too far away provide much shade unless you went walking right into it. Main street consisted of a few other public buildings; a tractor store right up next to the thrift shop, a little one-room schoolhouse with an attached shed that served as the town library, the Sheriff’s office, and the movie theater.

On the outskirts of town there was also a bar, The Whistling Cow, its glowing neon sign a single point of orange light on dark nights. As much as Stretch wanted a drink, he stuck with filching beer from the cooler Red kept under the counter. Hanging around with strange, drunk humans usually didn't end well for him.

The movie theater was where he’d taken to heading after work. Someone with a sense of humor must’ve named the place, since ‘The Grandeur’ literally only had one theater and maybe thirty seats, if that. The proprietor ran the ticket booth and the concession stand, and in his threadbare uniform with its yellowing shirt, he looked a lot like Lurch's second cousin, once removed.

But he was a nice enough fella and it was a good way to waste some time. Even if the only movies showing were old black and whites, the popcorn was fresh, with real butter, and the added bonus of air conditioning. Besides, the Three Stooges were funny as shit any old day.

That was where Stretch was headed today; the afternoon showing only cost two bucks, then another for popcorn and he was set for a few hours. It was better than trying to get anything to tune in on the television in his overboiled room. With a lot of coaxing, he might manage to get a PBS channel, but there was only so much time a person could spend sweating their way through a staticky version of Sesame Street.

Stretch got to his seat just as the lights were going down, settling in with his popcorn. Before the movie there were a few cartoons, and it was kinda wild to get to see Steamboat Willy chugging along on the big screen again.

Today’s flick was an honest to bitsy silent movie and Stretch watched with a wide grin as Charlie Chaplin slap-schticked his way across the stage. There were a few other people in the seats, at least one of them snoring; probably only came to get out of the summertime heat.

But it wasn’t really the movie he was here for. Not today.

He’d seen her the first time he came. Sitting in the far back row, not that uncommon, some people liked to sit far away. No one else seemed to notice her and that wasn’t strange either. Normally even he didn’t pay much attention to anyone else in the theater, who did? So long as a person was quiet, made no ripples in the pond, no one saw them. Movies were for escapism, not to make new friends.

But this lady. To begin with, her clothes were about a century out of date, with her pink suit and matching pillbox hat, her white gloves, and whenever the house lights came up while they switch the reel, she vanished without even a shimmer of dust motes, only returning once the darkness did.

He’d been back three times so far and she’d been in the theater for every showing. Sitting on her own watching the flick, always in the same seat. This time, Stretch was sitting in the seat next to it. He munched his buttery popcorn and watched as Charlie Chaplin-ed his way through the movie. He didn’t have to wait long.

None of the Humans noticed. The black-and-white light coming from the screen was dim enough that anyone sitting in the audience was nothing but a shadow. Humans tended towards the unobservant side, anyway, none of them had to be as aware of their surroundings as a Monster did, especially one like Stretch with only 5 HP between him and dust.

Besides, there wasn’t any fanfare about it. One minute the chair next to him was empty and the next, a young woman was sitting there, her hands clasped primly in her lap as she looked up at the movie with rapt attention.

“like the movies, huh?” Stretch said, very softly. “always wanted to be an actor myself, but i don’t have the guts for it.”

Waste of a good pun, he didn’t even think the woman had a chance to notice he was a skeleton. She startled, one faintly translucent hand flying to her mouth as if to stifle a scream. Stretch only munched on another piece of popcorn and let her gather her wits or ectoplasm or whatever ghosts had. Wasn’t like he had room to talk, the inside of his skull was as hollow as a drunken apology.

She settled quick enough and asked in a wispy little voice, “you can see me?”

Stretch slouched back and propped his sneakers up on the seat in front of him. “sure. it’s a monster thing. we see things that humans don’t, sometimes.” Or didn’t bother to see, Stretch wasn’t sure which.

“Sometimes they see me,” she admitted. “but they always run away.”

Yeah, Stretch couldn’t really blame them for that one. Humans weren’t used to ghosts, not the way Monsters were, and now that he was sitting up close, he could see the way she flickered a little, that pretty face sometimes flashing onto something else, half still pretty as a picture from an old magazine and the other a bloody ruin. There was a gaping hole on one side of her head, her blonde hair matted into dark clumps, and one blue eye stared out, unseeing. There were flecks scattered on the shoulder of her pink suit, chips of ivory, and Stretch knew enough about bones to recognize skull fragments. Another flicker and it was gone, only a pretty young Human woman looking back at him. The effect was a little off-putting, true, but it wasn’t like she could help it.

Besides, Stretch didn’t have to look. He was watching the movie.

“what’s your name?” he asked, softly.

She hesitated and he wondered if she didn’t want to tell him or if she didn’t know. Her eyes were large, absurdly long lashes sweeping against her cheeks as she considered. When she spoke again her voice was a little stronger, surer, “Doris.”

“doris, my name is stretch,” he told her, “and it is a pleasure to meet you.”

They sat together in silence for a little while. The music coming brightly from the speakers was as cheerful as a carousel, offering happiness and humor when she spoke again abruptly. “I know this is very forward. But. Could you do something for me?”

“maybe,” Stretch said, a little wary. Better not to make promises to unknown ghosts, they could get tetchy.

She smiled, a wry curve of lips as if she could hear his thoughts. “Your popcorn.”

He looked down at the paper cup in his hand, still half-full of buttery kernels. “you want some?” he asked, bemused.

She let out a whispery laugh, like a wind rustling through summer cattails. “No, but. Can I smell it?”

Oh. “sure.” He held the cup out and she leaned over it, inhaling deeply, or, well, looked like she did, he didn’t think ghosts actually breathed, but who knew? When she bent down twin ribbons of blood ran from both her nostrils, dark and slick. It didn’t drip into the popcorn, couldn’t, it wasn’t present in the same way the little carton was, but he felt his appetite fade. He still politely pretended not to notice.

She leaned back with a happy sigh and all signs of the blood were gone. “Thank you. I go behind the counter sometimes to smell it, but it’s not the same.”

“i bet. gotta be in a paper bucket or it ain’t right.” If she could go out to the concession stand, that meant at least she wasn’t stuck sitting in this one seat. Maybe it was just her favorite. “you get out much?” He jerked his head towards the door, “outside, i mean.”

“No,” She shook her head sadly, and her hair brushed her shoulders. “I have to stay in the theater.”

He nodded sympathetically. That was gonna make this a little harder, but not too much. He liked the movies, anyway. “yeah, it works that way sometimes. but hey, i’ll stop back in and see you again. if that’s okay?”

She brightened visibly, coming sharply into focus like a lens turned on a camera, until the chair behind her only barely showing through. “Would you?”

Now that was a vow he could make and Stretch sketched a cross over his chest with a finger and said solemnly, “i promise.”

Their chat must’ve been getting a little loud. Someone was turning around in the front seats. The room was too dark to see, but he didn’t have to witness a glare to feel it. Stretch slouched down in his seat and took the hint.

Hey, he’d made a friend. Well, most of one and it was the important part. A soul without a body was a lot nicer than a body without a soul, hands down.

Which made him wonder about the gas station attendant, because Mitch made Red seem like a warm, outgoing person.

The ancient artwork on the front window of the gas station showed a shiny, smiling attendant in a tidy uniform, his neatly cut hair almost hidden beneath his cap as he held up a dripping gas nozzle in offering. That guy must’ve gotten promoted out of state, because the only dress code Mitch followed was ‘fuck it, looks clean.’ Long, straggly hair poked out from his dirty baseball cap and, of all things, he was reading the New York Times, the business section.

His saving grace was that his disinterest in all customers was universal. Mitch was an equal opportunity kind of guy; he didn’t give a shit about anyone.

Stretch opened the door carefully so that the cowbell only gave a muted clang. He hesitated inside the door and decided to brave a question. Hey, he’d made one friend today, may as well push his luck. “you got any coffee on?”

It was a pretty safe bet, even as hot as it was. Coffee wouldn’t help with the sweat that was already dampening his shirt from walking over from the theater, but Stretch felt a little unsteady from meeting Doris. He could use a dose of caffeine to shore him up.

Mitch didn’t look up from his paper, but he jerked his chin towards the back wall. “Yep, but the only coffee I got is hot. Ain’t no ‘spressos around here, Slick.”

“Hot is fine.” He didn’t bother correcting him on the name. Started with an S, close enough, they’d be best pals in no time. The carafe of coffee smelled surprisingly fresh, considering that Mitch looked like he’d been holding that chair down for a few hours. There was a plastic basket next to the carafe filled with little coffee mate creamer cups. He added four French vanilla, carrying his murky coffee up to the counter with Red’s six-pack. Beer was one thing they didn’t sell at the store, no alcohol at all, something to do with the liquor laws in this county and Red not paying those skinflint jackholes for a license, not on his ass, thanks much.

He paid for both, picked up his change from where Mitch tossed it unhelpfully on the counter and went outside, fumbling out his smokes on the way.

Stretch sat down on the crumbling curb, drinking his coffee and smoking, letting the caffeine and nicotine wash over him in a twin, soothing rush. He’d been trying to cut down with his funds being on the uncertain side, cigarettes were a pricy vice, and he couldn’t bum any from Red the way he did the beers.

The sun was still high overhead pouring down the heat, coming up off the pavement in shimmery waves. Sweat was rising up on his bones, his t-shirt clinging damply to his ribs and spine. Somewhere nearby, he could hear children playing, the hollow thud of a basketball and their laughter carrying on in the still air. He didn’t have anywhere he needed to be, no one’s expectations to live up to.

When his cigarette was done and pinched out, Stretch climbed back to his feet and headed for the grocery to drop off the beers before they got warm. Again, he went easy on the door, keeping the bell to a faint rattle rather than a clang. It was only when he turned around that he saw the front counter was empty, Red’s book bent open on the counter but no skeleton around to pick it back up.

He set the beers on the counter, calling, “red?”

No reply and that was strangely ominous in a little store where even a short skeleton would be hard pressed to hide.

There was a long hallway in the back that led past a couple storerooms to the apartment Red lived in. He gave the storerooms a glance, just in case Red had a sudden urge to restock the sanitary napkin display, and wasn’t very surprised to find them unoccupied. He saw the door to Red’s apartment was open a crack like it never was and that cranked ominous up to sinister. The lingering sweat on his bones was chilling in the air conditioning, but that wasn’t the only reason a sudden shiver rattled him.

“red?” Stretch called weakly as he pushed open the door.

The living room was small with a ratty plaid sofa and a coffee table littered with beer cans and balled up chip bags, and standing in the center of it was a person who was not Red, not unless he got one hell of a growth spurt while Stretch was gone.

Once, Stretch would’ve just taken a shortcut out, right the hell to the Sheriff station down the road and never had he missed the skill more than when the guy-who-was-definitely-not-Red started to turn around. The instinct to teleport was still there even if the ability wasn’t, fizzling out with an aching pain right in the middle of his chest.

It was only a minor distraction and Stretch blundered over to grab a lamp from a side table, yanking the cord right out of the wall as he brandished it over his head like a club, yelling shrilly, “what the fuck are you doing in here?”

The guy turned around, looking back at him with deep crimson eye lights that flicked briefly up to the lamp before meeting his wild gaze. His voice was as smooth and dark as deep water as he stated coolly, “I believe that’s my question.”

Stretch could stare and the only coherent thought amongst the many tangled ones scrambling through his mind was only two words. Simple. Descriptive.

Oh, shit.

-tbc-

[addictofsupernatural]

OHSHC Rewrite: Episode 3a

Beware the Physical Exam!

Host Club x reader

Summary: Y/n has to deal with Maria's nephew coming for a visit right before the physical exams.

Word Count: 5k

Episode Masterlist

"Welcome ladies!"

You were outside talking to some of your clients, and they were excited that you wore a kimono for cosplay. In the middle of talking to them Kyoya appeared smoothly, trying to sell picture books of the host club. It made you wonder, how did he get those pictures?

A little later you didn't have any clients so you asked Honey and Mori if you could sit with them, and they agreed. You and the girls became quiet once Honey tried to make some tea. He was mixing too hard and almost everything had spilled out, but none of you knew what to say. You bit your lip and looked from the girls to Mori, who understood. He leaned over to Honey, saying, "You overdid it."

Honey looked at the almost empty bowl and looked very sad. "It's okay Honey-senpai! I'll drink it." One girl exclaimed.

"Yeah, if it was anything more it would be too much!" The other one chimed in.

He then beamed again. "Really?" He looked at you. "What do you think y/n-chan?"

You smiled. "I think you made enough for the ladies to not have to drink too much. It's very modest and considerate of you Honey-senpai. It shows how good your heart is."

He jumped into a hug with you. "Thanks y/n-chan!"

Once the Host Club closed for the day, you wandered around looking at the cherry blossom trees. Tamaki saw you and decided to try to work his charm again.

"Hello y/n."

"Oh, hey senpai." You gave him a small smile.

"The flower viewing reception went quite well. What do you think? Aren't the flowers today captivating?"

"Yeah, they're really pretty."

He took this as his chance. "Even so, it's rather daunting being admired than doing the admiring."

You sighed. "Wow senpai, I can really see how much you're blooming today." You said sarcastically.

"You noticed! Yes, today my beauty is in full bloom." He then flicked a heart with his fingers to you. "I bet you'll fall you me soon."

"I'll take that bet." You joked.

Tamaki smiled and was about to say something back when the twins interrupted. "So y/n, what are you gonna take for next term?"

You paid no mind to Hikaru's arm around your shoulder. "I haven't really thought about it yet."

"Why don't you take conversational French with us?" Kaoru suggested.

"Yeah, it does make sense," Hikaru added.

They then turned back to Tamaki, evily smiling as they said, "Since we're in the same class."

Tamaki sat near a tree and hugged his knees into his chest. "Say, mommy dear?"

Kyoya smiled. "What is it now, daddy?"

"It might just be my imagination, but it seems like the twins get to spend more time with my little girl."

"Tamaki, you're just now realizing that?" It was like Tamaki was struck by lightning. "If you look at these two charts, you'll see that the twins spend roughly 8 hours a day with y/n, which is a third of her day. You, on the other hand, spend a mere 3 hours with her, meaning about 12% of her day—"

"I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT I DON'T WANNA HEAR IT!!" Tamaki quickly grabbed your shoulders. "Listen to me y/n, daddy wants you to stop hanging around those two shady twins!"

"Who you calling shady boss?" Hikaru asked.

"Yeah, take a good look at yourself!" Kaoru added.

"Tamaki-senpai, please calm down. It's just a class together." You took his hands off your shoulders. "You know what? If I need any help in French then I'll most likely go to you."

"Really?!" His eyes shown, only to go to confusion. "Wait, what do you mean most likely?"

"If I need help in the moment, I'll ask the twins." He began crying again. "Senpai, calm down—"

"All daddy wants is for you live a wholesome life!"

You sighed. "Why do you call yourself that?"

"Y'know y/n," Kyoya said. "It's pretty impressive that you're taking a class to learn a fourth language."

"Thank you senpai." You smiled at him.

"What does he mean by fourth?" Kaoru asked.

"Oh, Maria's latina so she taught me Spanish."

"A hispanic mother huh?" Hikaru said.

Kaoru then added, "You're very exotic."

You looked at them with an annoyed expression. "Sure." You then remembered something. "By the way, do you guys have anything you're doing this weekend?"

The twins looked at each other and then back at you. "No, why?"

You grinned. "Then let's do something! Anything."

They were taken back by your sudden forwardness. "What's got you so excited?" Hikaru asked.

"Yeah, where did this come from?" Kaoru added.

"Maria's sisters are coming over and one of them hates me."

"Why?" Hikaru asked.

"Cause I'm not Maria's biological kid. It's stupid. But it's not her I'm worried about." Your face then turned to a grimace. "It's her son, Satan."

"Geez, what's with the name calling?" Hikaru asked again.

"He gets his annoying personality from his mother, and he loves to go out of my way to try and get me mad. It makes him feel better or something. One time he cut the head off of my stuffed dinosaur my first mother had bought for me." You pouted.

Kaoru asked, "Just because Maria's not your mom?"

"Yeah, he feels like I'm at a lower class than him, and that I need to learn to stay like that. Maria tried to fix my stuffed dino, and God bless her tomboy heart, her sewing skills are terrible. It looks like a voodoo doll now." You sighed, shrugging. "Anyways, I wanna see his face as less as possible. So, you do two wanna hang out over the weekend?"

Tamaki jumped in. "I CAN'T LET THAT HAPPEN! YOU DON'T NEED TO BE SPENDING MORE TIME WITH THEM!"

"Why are you so weird about Hikaru and Kaoru?" You asked. "They aren't even doing anything."

"I'd hate to break up this little chat," Kyoya said. "But do you recognize the name Alarico Gonzalez?"

You whipped your head over to Kyoya's direction. "Why?"

"Because he's from y/c and just booked each host towards the end of host hours for tomorrow."

"It's him." You grumbled. "I'm gonna go clean up."

Tamaki then spoke up. "It's not to fret about. This is obviously a romantic comedy fic, and me and y/n the main cast! That means that in the end I'll swoop in and make her feel better."

"Yeah, then what are we?" Hikaru asked, referring to the rest of the hosts.

"You boys are the homosexual supporting cast!" He then drew a line on the ground with a stick. "So please make sure that you don't step over this line."

"This is ridiculous." The twins said.

"And boss, I don't think you get it." Hikaru said as he smiled.

"Y/n-chan values friendship very much." Honey said.

"And she considers all of us her friends." Kaoru said.

Kyoya chimed in. "If you were to take her away from the rest of her friends, she would probably become quite unhappy and limit her contact with you."

"That means that the rest of us get to spend more time with her, while she ignores you." Honey said.

"Especially more time with us," Kaoru said. "Since we're in the same class."

You walked up to them. "Okay guys, I'm done—"

"Tamaki grabbed you again." Don't worry y/n! I'll let you go with the twins this weekend."

"I mean, that's nice of you to say, but I wasn't asking for your permi—"

"As long as the rest of us go as well!" He then turned to everyone else. "Listen up gentlemen. We are all going to hang out with y/n this weekend."

"Sure, I guess. If you wanted to come senpai, why didn't you just ask?"

"Nevermind that!" He panicked. "Make sure you choose where you want to go."

You smiled sweetly. "Okay!"

The next day you felt irritated, knowing it was only a matter of time before you see Alarico and his stupid face. Kyoya reminded you that during host hours you had to be on your best behavior, which meant that you couldn't defend himself.

The twins were staring at you all day. They made in incredibly noticable when you were setting up the tea sets. "Can I help you two?"

"You haven't smiled at all today." Kaoru said.

"Yeah, this isn't normal."

"Don't worry, I'll make sure to smile when the guests come." You went around them and kept working, setting everything up.

"Why do you look sad y/n-chan?" Honey asked, trying to guilt trip you. "I don't like it. You're not like that because of me, right?"

"Of course not senpai. You're a sweet person." You said with a straight face. "Now excuse me." You continued and eventually finished up everything. You then walked to your place to welcome the girls. Sucking in a breath, you put on a smile.

"Welcome ladies."

You greeted your clients and they talked to you about what was going on with their lives. You threw out compliments and encouragements, and you hoped your smile would pay off. The stress was slowly coming off of you and your smile was becoming real. You did enjoy talking to all of your clients after all.

Your smile eventually became forced when Kyoya told you that someone requested for you to greet them at the door. You walked over to the door and opened it, smiling as best as you could. "Welcome sir."

He slapped your back hard. "Hey nickel. Long time no see."

You remained calm. "I didn't know we were using our nicknames Lucifer."

"Nickel?" Kaoru asked.

"Y/n would play the guitar and sing in the streets to save up some money. That's how she could afford to move. She would come home with bucket full of change. It's hilarious. So I call her nickel." He said, breaking out into a laugh. Though he was two years older than you, he was the about the same height as the twins. He then tossed his coat to you. "Show me where I go."

"Your first appointment is with the King. Right this way."

He looked you up and down. "This suits you nickel."

You ignored his comment. "Have a nice time."

You went back to your couch and talked to your clients. Meanwhile, Tamaki smiled warmly. "It's nice to meet you. The only person I've heard of from y/n is your aunt."

"Yeah, well, that's because she doesn't like what my mom and I have to say." You could feel his smug smile staring at the back of your head. You kept talking to your girls, trying to ignore him. "She just needs to accept who she is."

"And that is?" Tamaki smiled.

He smirked at Tamaki. "You know what they say, you can take the girl out of the streets but you can't take the streets out of the girl." Tamaki frowned. "Hey, what do you think of her? She was very keen on starting over, so I was wondering if she would be willing to share her past."

Tamaki tried to keep his princely self in tact. He smiled and sat up straighter. "I think she's a bright and smart person to be around. I enjoy her company, as do the rest of us here. And yes, she has shared some information with us regarding her past. We are her friends, after all."

"Trust me man, you don't wanna be too deep in her friend group. She had some really weird friends in y/c, and it's cause she's weird herself. She's got a lot of issues, and I wouldn't blame you if it sent you running." You knew what he was trying to do. Tamaki knew it. The rest of the hosts listening in knew it too. He was trying to isolate you, just to mess with you. "Well, gotta go to my next appointment."

He then got up and walked over to the twins' table. They hesitated to speak, but knew they had to be nice. "Nice to meet you." They said.

He quietly laughed. "Do you guys like to answer questions at the same time?"

They shrugged. "Sometimes."

"That's... strange." He grinned. They looked at him, offended and annoyed. "That's also the opposite from y/n, which is even stranger to me."

"Shit." You mumbled. You began to breath a little unsteadily.

"What do you mean?" Hikaru asked.

He laughed again. "You guys don't know?" They stared blankly at him. "Y/n has a twin brother. He up and ran away before their mom died. Apparently all three were supposed to leave together, but her brother left them high and dry."

You were starting to panic. Other people were turning their heads. Exposed. You felt so exposed.

"Excuse me for a minute." You quickly left the room and sat down on the floor, trying to catch your breath. You couldn't breathe, and your eyes began to sting from tears forming. You just couldn't breathe.

Tamaki and the twins shot up and ran to the door, but we're stopped by Kyoya. "Go back to your seats. There are guests waiting for you."

"Are you kidding?!" Hikaru barked.

"We need to see if she's okay!" Kaoru added.

"Kyoya, step aside!" Tamaki exclaimed.

"I don't have any appointments right now. I'll check on her. Go back to your seats." He then quickly left.

He saw you on the floor and sat down right to you. He put his arms around your upper arms and began to squeeze you tight in a hug. You tried to push him off, but he wouldn't budge. Soon you stopped moving and your breath stilled.

"Thank you." You weakly said.

"Of course."

"How did you do that?"

"It's a pressure point that calms a person's nerves." You weakly smiled at him. "How long have you been having anxiety attacks?"

You looked down. "I don't know. Years. It's been a while since I've had one up until now."

"Have you been medically diagnosed?"

You frowned and shook your head. "Let's go back in." You patted his thigh and got up. You stuck your hand out and he took it, having you hoist him up. You brought back your smile. "Thanks again senpai."

He nodded, though he also felt like the conversation needed be revisited, and would have to make sure of it. He opened the door for you. "Y/n!" Tamaki and the twins zoomed over to you.

"Sorry if I worried any of you. I just needed some air." You then sat back down on your couch. "Momo, let's resume our conversation."

"O–okay." She said, unsure whether she should ask if you were okay. "Is it okay if we take a walk in the maze? It's wonderful weather."

You grinned. "If you want to, I want to. Let's go."

When you two left, Alarico scoffed. "Still a damn baby." He then checked his watch. "Oh, switching time."

He walked over to Honey and Mori. Honey smiled at him. "You made y/n-chan really sad, so I think you should say sorry to make up for it. Kay?"

He shrugged. "I don't have to make up for anything. Like I said, she just doesn't like what I have to say. She doesn't want to face her reality, and I'm just trying to help her see it."

"So," Momoka asked you with your arms interlocked. "I was wondering if you would like to talk about what that boy you knew said."

"And here I thought I was host." You teased.

"Well, as a host it's your job to make the customers happy." She quietly stammered. "It would please me so if you had someone to talk to."

You scrunched up your nose. "You are way too nice Momo. It's grossing me out." You then looked straight ahead. "But it's much appreciated." You felt her eagerly stare at you. "Okay, we can talk."

"Really?" You nodded, and she hugged you.

"Out of the people I talk to everyday, and those who make an impression on me, I'm glad you're the one to want to talk to me like this." She smiled brightly. "Now, lead the way to that nice sitting stop first. I have no idea where to go." She nodded and took your hand, rushing to the spot.

Honey's face became darker. "Don't say mean things about y/n-chan, or I won't forgive you."

"No offense kid, but how old are you?"

"He's the same age as you." Hikaru angrily said as he sipped tea.

"Even so, some may argue that he's twice a man as you." Kaoru said as he also angrily sipped on his tea.

"Who knew important people would actually care about some rando girl from the nowhere."

"Don't talk about her like that." Mori said, standing up to hover over him.

"Stop talking about her like that, now." Honey warned.

Alarico scoffed. "Sorry little man, we're out of time." He then walked over to Kyoya, who was writing in his notebook. Honey was about to attack, but Tamaki quietly assured everyone that he knows Kyoya would handle things. "You seem to be the only who isn't phased by anything I say. That's good, since everyone's being weird about y/n."

"I assume it's due to the impression she's left on everyone here. It seems like the hardships she's had to endure has shaped her into a hard working and ambitious person."

"More like audacious." Kyoya just kept writing. "Not much gets to you, huh? That's pretty uninteresting."

"Well, I don't have a lot to worry about considering the position I'm in. You see, my family owns the largest police force in Japan. Just one phone call away and I could have over a hundred men in less than five minutes. So you see, I in fact do not have anything to worry about in this particular moment."

He frowned as you and Momoka came back in. "We're back." You happily announced.

"Did you ladies enjoy your walk?" Tamaki asked as he greeted you two at the door.

You and Momoka looked at each other and smiled. "We did." You said. "I had the pleasure of learning a few new things about Momo."

"Y/n! Those are secrets!" She blushed heavily.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna say anything. Anyways, have a safe way home."

"You as well." She said, leaving.

You closed the door and saw that Alarico was the last person there. "Okay Lucifer, let's get on with this. Shall we?"

He said nothing but smirked at you as he bumped your shoulder walking to your couch. Everyone watched. You sat on opposite ends. "So, your friends don't know about Christian."

You calmly smiled. "He's not in my life, so there's not much to say about him. How've you been doing back in y/c?"

"You mean back home?" He asked tauntingly.

"This is my home now. A step up, don't you think?"

"For now, yeah. How's money been? You still singing in the streets?"

"Nope. Don't have to. Maria got a management position at this club. She got the job from a friend she made at a store. His name is Ryoji, and he's awesome. We've had dinner at his house a few times. His daughter's pretty chill."

"Look at you making little friends. Just like at the liquor store." You grinned, and he scooched closer to you. "Y'know, I just don't get the hype for you. There's something about you that I don't like."

"I'm well aware."

"I don't know where to put my finger on it." He looked you over. "Maybe it's because I've seen those nasty scars on your legs. It a pretty big turn off."

You grinned and shrugged. "Maybe that's it. Maybe it's because you don't like what I have to say about you. Just maybe."

He didn't like that. He grabbed your jaw, holding it tight. "Or maybe it's your face. I've seen the pictures of your parents, and you have your dad's looks." He roughly took away his hand. "Get me some tea."

"Of course." You calmly got up and went over to pour the tea.

"Hey, who was that Momoka chick? She was hot. You think she's easy to bed?" He then laughed.

"Hikaru, what time is it?" You asked as you stared straight ahead.

"Uh, 5:02?"

You nodded, setting down the tea pot. You calmly wrapped your arms around Alarico's shoulders, leaning in as if you were about to whisper him something. Instead you kneed his dick. He yelped and fell to the ground. "You bitch!"

"It's after hours now so I can say whatever I want." You looked down at him. "I don't give a shit about what you think of me, I never have. You know it, and you hate it. But when you talk about sleeping with a sweet girl just to spite me, that's when I get pissed."

"Fuck you!" He rolled to his side.

"Never talk about her in that way, ever, and stay away from her. Don't even try to fight me on this. It wouldn't be the first time I've kicked your ass. Now it's time for you to leave. Go." He got up and stumbled away.

You turned and saw everybody looking at you. "Well," Kyoya said. "I believe it's time to clean up."

You all began to clean up in silence. It was almost unbearable for the twins, as well as Tamaki. Hikaru and Kaoru had finally snapped when you accidentally bumped into them. "Excuse me—"

"WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY BEATING HIM UP BEFORE?!" They asked.

"Oh, that's what was bugging you?"

"Among other things." Tamaki said. "But that is a good question."

You remembered the fond memory you had of that night and giggled. "It happened one time, and it was totally his fault."

"Well, what happened?" The twins asked.

"He thought that it would be funny to scare me so he could hold it over me. But his plan for it failed miserably. He made a plan to come through our window in the middle of the night with a ski mask on and act like he was robbing us."

"But if it was in the middle of the night, wouldn't you be asleep?" Honey asked.

"Yup. He's not the smartest person around. Anyways, right when he climbs in he trips over our shoes and was unintentionally makes a lot of noice. I woke up and assumed there was a robber in the house, so naturally I grabbed the bat from under my bed and—"

"Why on Earth would you have a bat under your bed?" Tamaki asked.

"In case some idiot decided to put on a ski mask and climb through our window." You giggled, and everybody smiled in response. "Anyways, I ran up to him and swung to his stomach. He fell, and broke a flower pot in the process. When he got up, I swung again. He once again fell, but this time when he tried to get up he slipped and landed on our table, breaking it. He fumbled around and tried to grab onto this shelf, but the house was old and the shelf came down on him."

The twins bursted into laughter. "Where was Maria during all this?" Kaoru asked.

"Sleeping! I swear, I don't know what she'd do without me. There was so many crashing sounds!" The twins laughed again, and this time Tamaki chuckled as Honey giggled. "So I'm about to swing again, but he takes off the mask and yells at me. We're yelling at each other, and I drop the bat on the floor. That's when Maria finally comes in, by hearing the bat, and just asks if I'm okay. Super relaxed and half asleep."

The laughter erupted again. "What happened after that?" Hikaru asked.

"I told her that Alarico was trying to rob us, and she says hands down the most 'I don't care' question ever: So, like, I can go back to sleep then right?" More laughter. "I told her no, and she called her sister who came there dead silent. She wrote us a check for the damage and they left. One of the most satisfying experiences of my life."

Everybody was smiling at the story. It was no wonder why you became a host. You were very interesting. "Do you think you'll be in trouble when you get home?" Kaoru asked.

You shrugged. "I mean, Maria's sister will yell at me, but that's kinda it. Maria thinks that I should only be punished if I'm in the wrong. He was being a creep to another girl and I defended her honor. Not in the wrong, and I'll probably just get a smack to the back of the head."

"Seriously?" Hikaru asked.

You shrugged. "She is Latina. And don't worry, since she's not the wealthiest person here, Maria's sister won't try to fight the school or anything."

"Not the wealthiest? What does that mean?" Tamaki asked.

"They're high middle class so they flaunt their money at people who don't make as much. She's a Karen."

"A Karen?" The twins asked.

"I don't believe I'm familiar with the term." Kyoya said.

"It's when someone makes a not bad situation so much worse for no reason. Like, let me speak to your manager for something dumb or my child would never do that when their kid is horrible. Stuff like that."

"Geez, you have to go home to that?" Hikaru asked.

You pursed your lips. "I really don't want to go home right now. Maybe I'll visit Ryoji's house. Or maybe I'll just stay at a fast food place for a bit."

"We'll come with you." Hikaru offered.

"Yeah, it'll be fun." Kaoru added.

"Thanks guys. Let's go then." You began walking towards the door, but stopped and turned around. "And thank you, all of you. I'm really happy that you guys still like me."

"Wait y/n!" Tamaki zoomed over to you, invading your personal space. "I want you to be careful around those shady twins, okay?! Daddy just wants the best for you!"

You ruffled his hair and smiled. "I'll be fine senpai. You trust that I'll take care of myself, right?"

He looked at you, almost in a daze, and smiled. "Of course. Have fun." You nodded and left with the twins. "Well Kyoya, it seems like our little y/n is very capable of handling her problems."

Kyoya put on a smile and said nothing. On the outside, it could easily be seen as that. But that wasn't the case. You should see someone about your anxiety. You should accept help. That meant that he would have to tell Tamaki.

After having a fun time with the twins and getting chewed out by Linda, you went to bed hoping that the club wasn't actually upset with you.

The next day you got up and quickly left early before anyone else woke up. Unfortunately, you skipped breakfast in order to do so. So there you were, eating a breakfast burrito from WacDonald's on the steps of Ouran, way too early for anyone to be there yet.

The silence was pretty nice. It was peaceful, and the school was beautiful. You did notice someone though. A man in a lab coat. He looked lost, but you decided not to think anything of it. It was probably just a school doctor, since it is physical exam day.

Later on you threw away your wrapper and bought some coffee at a gas station. That's when some people began arriving. "Hey, you're the honor student, right?" One person walked over and asked you.

"Um, yeah. I'm sorry, I don't think I know you."

"I'm in the same year, though we're in different classes." He said.

A few minutes later the twins arrived to school, though they were peeved to see you talking to another guy. They ran over to you and began dragging you away.

"It was nice to meet you!" You called out. They then put you down, hearing you huff. "What was that for? I almost dropped my coffee."

"Who was that?" Kaoru asked.

You shrugged. "Some guy. He just came up to me and started talking."

"More like flirting." Hikaru grumbled.

"No he wasn't." You took a sip of your coffee. "Do you guys want some?"

Hikaru hesitated before shrugging. "Sure." He took a swig.

"Kaoru?" You offered.

"Are you sure that's Kaoru?" Hikaru asked, trying to trick you.

"Yes, I am." You said, taking back your coffee. "I'm not stupid."

Before they could say anything, you all heard. "Y/n~!"

A gush of wind passed you three as Tamaki ran over to you. "Morning senpai."

"Did those two shady twins hurt you last night?! I knew I should have gone with you!" He took your hands.

"No, they didn't. Calm down senpai. It was actually nice." You smiled at them.

"Oh, right." Hikaru took out an old phone. "Here."

You just stared up at him confusedly. "You don't have a phone, and this is my old one." Kaoru explained. "I don't use it anymore, so you could have it."

"Um, that's kind of a big thing to give someone." You nervously smiled. "You could turn it in to a phone company and get some money for it. Or maybe some store credit, depending on the company."

"We don't need money or credit stuff." Hikaru said. "Just take it."

You hesitated before taking it. You then smiled and wrapped your arms around each of their necks. "Thanks guys!"

"You're welcome." They smiled before looking darkly at Tamaki. Before Tamaki could say anything, the twins then pulled away. "Well, let's go to class!"

They rushed you off. "Bye Tamaki-senpai!" You called out.

Tamaki got angry. "But what about the plan?!" He barked.

"What did he say?" You turned as they carried you.

"Nothing!" They said.

Instead of going to your class though, you ended up going to the Music Room. "What's going on? Why are we in the host club class?"

Tamaki then stormed into the room. "You two could have waited for me!" He barked out again.

Kyoya then came out. "Y/n, we've come here today to talk about a problem regarding you."

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Author's Note: I hit the limit for the paragraphs I can write (since there's a lot of dialogue), so I had to cut it short.

I guess I have to split it up into 2 parts and put the fast food part in my own filler .—.

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