#one of those mystery box sets

[zagreusboon]

I also got this little fucker yesterday

obsessed

[flamboyant-king]

i put pokemon card mystery packs on my etsy just now. just a stack of bulk from my year of collecting pokemon cards. i'll be turning in a bunch of bulk to the card shops, but I thought wouldnt it be fun to make my own mystery packs? i always loved goodie bags, grab bags, blind bags, and gacha. its a thrill of opening something and getting something unexpected more than the items themselves.

altho getting a $100 card is pretty neat. Here's the link if you're interested~ https://www.etsy.com/listing/1717302949/pokemon-tcg-bulk-mystery-goodie-pack-of

[angryborzois]

keychain haul les go

[ms-demeanor]

So you know absolutely positively nothing about photography

Cellphone cameras are fucking great. I love them. I love the ability to take photos whenever and wherever at basically zero cost.

Point-and-shoot cameras have always been awesome and accessible devices.

This is not a post shit-talking "basic" cameras. This is a post for people who have only ever used basic cameras who want to know at least slightly more about photography.

Because, the thing is, a remarkable amount of photography is math. And if you don't know it's math, it looks like a mystery. And you may be standing there snapping a photo with your phone that looks pretty good, but your friend with a DSLR looked at the sky, twisted a dial, and took three steps to the left and they took a photo of the same subject that looks like it belongs on a magazine cover.

How did they do that?

Probably math.

If you've come into possession of a DSLR camera and are disappointed that the photos you're taking aren't looking like the photos you thought came from DSLRs, I'm here to tell you about the math you may not know about.

What is a photograph?

At its most basic, a photograph is the result of light on a sensor. Let's consider a pinhole camera for a moment. A pinhole camera is a lightproof box with a piece of photographic paper on one side and a tiny hole in the other.

When you create a photo with a pinhole camera, you're using pretty much all of the math you would in a big fancy camera, just in a cruder form they are:

The sensitivity of the paper, film, or camera sensor to light (this is your "ISO" if you're using a digital camera or film). Light sensitivity can be easily changed on a digital camera, but on chemical-treated paper or film the sensitivity is predetermined and cannot be changed. If you want to change the ISO on an analog camera, you need to change the medium that's being exposed.

An opening to let light in - your F-stop, or aperture. The F-stop of a photo is how wide open the lens is to let light onto your film or sensor. In a pinhole camera, you have something that is theoretically a very very large F-stop because you have a very, very tiny opening to let light through (F-stops run in reverse - the bigger the number, the smaller the opening).

Exposure - your exposure is the amount of time you leave your sensor open to the light. The majority of photos you see in the world have exposure times that are measured in tiny fractions of a second, sometimes in thousandths of a second. If you're using photo paper in your pinhole camera, you may have an exposure time of minutes rather than tiny portions of a second, but your photo exposure will still depend on how long you want to leave your "lens" open.

Focal length - your focal length is a description of the relationship of the distance between the light source and the light sensor. You can manipulate this in a pinhole camera by making the camera longer or shorter. A larger focal length means a narrower field of view - it zooms in on the subject.

A pinhole camera is the simplest camera that lets you, the photographer, control all of the elements of a photo. This is, functionally, fully manual photography.

So what's the difference between all that and a cellphone camera?

Point-and-shoot cameras like those on cellphones give the user more limited control over these settings. For instance, think of a disposable camera. On a disposable camera, the photographer has control over one setting - the ISO of the film, which they can select at purchase. They can't control how wide the lens opens or how long it stays open, and the only way they can compensate for lighting that is a poor match to the ISO is flash.

Cellphone cameras are very much like a standard point-and-shoot. By default, users point their cameras, then shoot a photo. Many cellphones have a "pro" mode that will allow the user to emulate different ISOs or f-stops, but the sensors in cellphone cameras aren't as good as the ones in camera-cameras, and the lenses are very limited as well. Some cellphone cameras and point-and-shoot digital cameras WILL allow users to set longer exposures, and many cellphone cameras have multiple lenses which does allow for some lens effects, but they don't give a huge amount of control to the user.

Okay so let's say I've got my new shiny camera, what do I need to know?

For best results, you want your ISO to match the light you're shooting in. Low ISO is for bright light, high ISO is for low light. If you wanted to take snapshots of your family outdoors at disneyland in the summer, you'd buy 100 ISO film. When I used to shoot football games at night in oddly lit stadiums, I'd use 1600 ISO film. If you have a DSLR camera, there's a setting somewhere in there that tells you how to set the ISO. If you are shooting in relatively low light and the photos are turning out darker than you'd like *but* things are moving too quickly to use a longer exposure, you can bump up your ISO for brighter, sharper images but they will be more noisy and grainy than ones shot at a lower ISO. If you want clean, smooth, crisp images, your goal should be to shoot with the lowest ISO possible.

The Aperture of your camera lens determines your F-Stop. This acts like the pupils of your eyes. When it's really really bright out, your pupils shrink down to let in less light. When it's darker out, your pupils get bigger to let in more light. If you are shooting in low light, you want a low F-Stop, which means that your camera's lens is open really wide. If you are shooting in a bright environment, you want a higher F-Stop, which will mean the opening is very small. Since your F-stop interacts with the focal length of your lens, you will find that zooming in with the lens often makes images darker. To shoot clear images from far away, you need to be very conscious of your F-stop, your ISO, and ambient lighting conditions.

Exposure describes the length of time you set the camera to leave the aperture open. In many DSLRs this can span from 1/3200th of a second to infinitely long (the "bulb" setting means "aperture is open until you close it.") If you want sharp images of frozen motion, you want the fastest speed that you can get. Sports photography and photography of things like insects or milk crowns often use extremely short exposures to get sharp images. If you want blurry images you want slower speeds. If you want to take a photo in a low-light environment and capture motion within that environment - for instance, taking photos of cars on a freeway at night - you want slower speeds (if you want to do this in a brighter environment, like taking photos of a stream in the daytime, you want slower speeds and a specific kind of lens filter called a neutral density filter). When exposures are set to be longer than about 1/60th of a second, images with motion start to look blurry.

Focal Length determines the field of view of your subject. If you have a lens with variable focal lengths, this is called a zoom lens. A longer focal length zooms you in and a shorter focal length zooms you out. Lenses with fixed focal lengths are called prime lenses, and can't zoom in or out.

Depth of Field - your depth of field is a combination of the interaction of your focal length, your distance from your subject, and your F-stop. The depth of field describes the relative amount of space in a photograph that is in focus. A long depth of field means that much of the image plane is in focus. A short depth of field means that a narrow portion of the image plane is in focus. A low F-stop produces a narrow depth of field. A long focal length produces a narrow depth of field.

You can think of your camera as a tool that measures time and space. Your ISO and Exposures are measurements of time (how quickly the sensor senses the light, how long the sensor is exposed to the light), the F-Stop and the focal length are measurements of space (how wide the aperture of the camera is, how far the lens is from the sensor).

The pre-set modes on your camera, the ones on the dial that show a person running, flower, or a cloud, or a lady with a hat - these are generic settings that combine an ISO, exposure time, and f-stop that are likely to work well for outdoor action shots, landscape photography, cloudy light, and portraits. When you're using those pre-set modes, you control the focal length and not much else.

When you understand that the running person/action mode means low-ish ISO combined with high shutter speeds, you can start just setting your own ISO and shutter speed when you're shooting sports. When you know that portrait mode sets you up for low-ish f-stops, relatively quick shutter speeds, and mid-range ISOs, you can just start setting those things on your own so you can have more control.

"What about light metering?"

Since your camera is a machine that records light, light metering is pretty important. The light meter of your camera will tell you if your settings are "correct" for the amount of that the light sensor senses. In most modern cameras there is a light metering display on the bottom edge of the viewfinder that goes from negative to positive; if the meter shows that you are in the negative it means that your photo will be under-exposed (too little light will get to the sensor and the image will appear dark), if the meter shows that you are in the positive it means that your photo will be over-exposed (too much light will get to the sensor and the image will appear too bright - "blown out"). The way to correct for under or over exposure is to change the length of the exposure, making it longer for underexposed images and shorter for overexposed images.

What the light meter is doing is thinking about all of your settings and the lighting for you. It looks at the ISO, focal length, f-stop, light hitting the sensor, and planned exposure time and tells you what that combination of settings is likely to produce - something too bright, or something too dark.

When you are more experienced with photography, you get good at juggling these things on the fly and messing around with them more, which is how you can do the magic of looking at the sky, twisting a dial, taking three steps to the left, and knocking it out of the park with a picture.

It only looks like magic because you're doing a ton of math under the hood that is extremely non-obvious to people who are new to photography.

Anyway, here is a good guide to depth of field and what goes into it.

Here is a basic photography textbook that explains the principles that I've gone over here in a lot more detail with a lot better explanations. It's a film photography textbook, but one of the cool things about photography is that a lot of stuff from the analog era is still relevant in the digital area, and the basics haven't changed.

However all of that is about the *technical* aspects of photography. Photography isn't just a record of exposure time and focal length, so here's a basic photo composition textbook that talks about the artistic principles of photography.

[byoldervine]

Foreshadowing Ideas

• Character themes/motifs. I’ve heard of one writer who tries to give each character their own theme for similes, metaphors, descriptions, etc so there’s like a theme to the way they’re portrayed. You could use that to foreshadow notable secrets about the character that will later be revealed, or if at any point they’re disguised then you can use that to tip off the reader that they have the same motifs and so might be related/the same person

• Tiny details hidden in lists. Say the MC was trying to work out the identity of a bad guy, who we know was wearing a red shirt on the day of a big bad event. A few chapters later, MC is checking around their best friend’s room to find them, with the place its usual mess with discarded takeaway boxes, the bed unmade, a red shirt left on the floor that could use a good sweep. The red shirt might not click with all the readers, but those who register it upon their first read will eat it up

• Inconsistent behavioural patterns. Once we have a good idea of what a character is like, having them act out of character can set off alarm bells and make us question what’s occurred to make them act this way. Let the other characters register it too, if it’s reasonable that they would, but let them ultimately brush it off quite quickly to keep it subtle. Or just call it right out, whichever you prefer

• Unreliable narrators. Let one character say one thing and a second character say another, even if they both ultimately agree on the same thing but get one or two small details wrong. Ideally do this two or three times in order for the reader to know it’s not just a mistake in the plot but an intentional inconsistency, but even if it’s only done once and it’s taken as a mistake it’ll still slot together like puzzle pieces in the end and they’ll be kicking themself for dismissing it

• In-universe red herrings. If you’re going to add red herrings as foreshadowing, it’s helpful if the red herring aligns with the intentions of someone person aware of the upcoming plot twist who’s trying to control the narrative. Say the plot twist was the reveal of a mysterious character’s identity to be the best friend of the MC, the best friend might have deliberately thrown the MC off their scent by planting suspicions in the MC’s mind that a different character was the mysterious character’s identity all along. This is less about foreshadowing the actual reveal, of course, but rereads will be a punch to the gut when everyone realises that all this misinformation and red herring business came from someone trying to cover their own ass rather than coming from misunderstandings or multiple other random sources

[wttcsms]

proof of love;

physical traces that reveal just how much you truly mean to him

ft. tobio kageyama, kiyoomi sakusa, atsumu miya

KAGEYAMA, your skincare routine in his bathroom — tobio lives in a stereotypical bachelor pad; you walk into his apartment and it's the very definition of bare-bones. thin, cotton navy sheets line his bed, with one single flat pillow. he doesn't own a dining table, and instead just stands near his kitchen counter to consume his meals. he blushes and tells you that he's just a minimalist. despite it all, though, after fun nights out, you find yourself heading back to his place with him, sleepy and drunk and pouty. you wake up, instantly regretting not washing off your face, moping because "i'm so gonna break out now, tobio!" when kags visits your place, he opens his notes app to get the names of all the skincare products lining your sink. the next night out, you're being carried into his apartment, mumbling drunk incoherencies. instead of setting you down on his bed (which now has two fluffy pillows and a fruit-print comforter that he bought for you), he guides you two to his bathroom where he places you on the counter and starts trying to figure out which steps to do first to help you remove your makeup. drunk-you guides him every step of the way, and the warmth you feel in your chest and cheeks isn't from the drinks — it's from the gentle care of your boyfriend rubbing in an oil cleanser to strip off your makeup.

SAKUSA, your lipstick stains on his water bottle — kiyoomi likes everything in his life to be neat and tidy. he carries a tide pen in his pocket that he ends up using on your clothes more often than his own. he's particular with how his belongings are treated, and you know better than to mess with anything of kiyoomi's. you respect his boundaries and find his oddities endearing, but you feel so much more secure in your relationship when you realize just how loose his boundaries are when it comes to you. on a road trip, you're thirsty and he offers you his water bottle. you don't think too much about it until you finish drinking and instantly widen your eyes at the sight of pink encasing the rim — remnants of your lipgloss. before you can say anything or try to wipe it off, he reaches over and takes a swig from it without a second thought. you try telling him not to drink yet, but he just glances over at you before focusing back on the road. "why would i be bothered by that? i kiss you all the time, don't i?" it's his subtle way of telling you that what's his is yours; you don't need to walk on eggshells with him.

MIYA, a cheap ring that came in a plastic egg — the proposal doesn't go as atsumu plans. things rarely ever go as atsumu plans, but this time — this is the one time he needs everything to go perfectly. and it does: the photographer is well hidden and on time, the decorations came out fantastic, and the ring! the ring is stunning. it's what's on everyone's pinterest boards. the only issue is that he put the ring box in the wrong pants pocket! with sweaty palms and a pink flush creeping from his neck to his cheeks to his ears, he gets down on one knee. he manages to stammer out his proposal speech to you, and you're listening with tears brimming in your eyes and a watery smile on your face, and then, those beautiful eyes of yours widen in surprise when you see, not a velvet ring box, but a plastic orb being revealed to you. he quickly explains that this is not your real ring (no duh), but that in typical atsumu fashion, he messed up. "it's just a placeholder!!! i'll buy you five diamond rings, just don't say no!" you're not marrying atsumu because of the ring, you remind him, but you allow him to slip on the cheesy ring. it's made out of plastic and it's one of those cheap prizes that are available in those weird machines outside the grocery store; the machines where you insert a quarter and twist the knob and a mysterious plastic ball surprises you with a prize. he tells you it took him a dozen tries to get a ring. you're laughing and saying it's meant to be since the ring manages to fit you perfectly. even after getting your real engagement ring, you still keep the cheesy ring to this day. it's evidence that no matter what happens, atsumu will always go the extra mile for you.

[quartings]

The original Gravity Falls pitches and pilot just dropped!!

(Link for those who want it)

For those who don't wanna look through all of it, here are some highlights I found!

Interesting changes from the pitch (What Alex Hirsch showed Disney to make them greenlight the show):

Stan’s secret was that he’s secretly protecting the townsfolk from weirdness, nothing to do with Ford. No mention of Ford in the pitch at all. Stan also wanted Dipper and Mabel to be his successors in this version.

Mabel used to be the unhygienic one instead of Dipper.

Wendy was brunette and didn’t work as the Mystery Shack cashier, instead selling veggie juice out of her van.

As such, Soos (Jesús in this version) worked the register in addition to his handyman job in this version. He was a bit less of a hard worker here, watching telenovelas on the job sometimes, but still loves his job and is extremely loyal to Stan.

Robbie was almost exactly the same, parents’ backstory and all, but there’s an interesting note that he occasionally clashed with Gideon in this version (which we never got in the final show)

Speaking of which, Gideon’s last name in this version was Garrymore instead of Gleeful.

Gideon used to personally harass and prank Stan, going out of his way to vandalize Stan’s stuff himself.

Manly Dan was always planned to be Wendy’s dad. In this version, he hates the idea that his hipster daughter prefers conserving the environment instead of chopping down forests

(For those who wanted more Wendy episodes, I’m surprised Hirsch didn’t use this as a conflict for one of them- it makes her interesting without costing any of her “coolness”)

Sheriff Blubs was originally Sheriff “Blumps”. Durland has the same name likely because Hirsch said he’s named after a real guy.

With no Ford and no Journal mentioned, episodes were originally very different-

“The President’s Cabinet/Irrational Treasure.” Instead of via the journal, Dipper and Mabel find a record of Quentin Trembley in a box buried in the yard. No Pacifica mentioned here.

“Secret Dungeon” Dipper becomes obsessed with a recalled arcade cabinet. Mabel must try and save him by finding the original high scorer.

“Thtupid Thursday” One of the many ‘Shining Twins’ episode concepts Hirsch wanted to do. Dipper and Mabel learn ‘twin telepathy’ from some creepy twins, and soon regret it.

“Periodic Mabel” Mabel invents her own element for the science fair and Dipper is jealous.

“Only the Clonely/Boyz Crazy” The exact same episode just without Candy and Grenda. Sev’ral Timez is called “ReelBoyzzz” in this version.

“Big Dipper” With surprisingly no tie to Little Dipper, Dipper asks a fortune teller to make him older so he can win Wendy over. But she makes him 22, so he and Mabel have to undo the spell.

“Sweater off Dead” Mabel buys an antique sweater and is possessed by the soul of the granny who last wore it. Stan is terrified by the spirit because she reminds him of his ex-wife Marilyn (Deep Edalyn Clawthorne lore???) so Dipper must “Swexorcize” his sister and save her.

“Teed Off/The Golf War” With no Pacifica, this was originally a Dipper vs Gideon episode- No Lilliputtians, either. Instead, the 13th hole is cursed and traps the cast in a time loop.

Now, changes from the Production Pitch (I’m guessing for when the show was already greenlit and this was a way to brief crew members on what the show would 100% be about)

Stan’s secret (likely the portal) and the journal are now set in stone.

Emphasis on continuity and character development. Nothing gets “reset” by next episode. All plot developments are permanent.

All character names and designs are locked in. Pacifica has now been added, as well as Waddles, Gompers, Lazy Susan, Candy and Grenda, and McGucket (No mention or hint at his past here)

Interesting to note is that there is still zero outright mention of Ford and Bill in this version, even though multiple episodes were seemingly in production at this point.

Manly Dan’s conflict with Wendy from the original pitch is still here. Making it even more mindblowing that we never got it in the show

Blubs and Durland are described as a little more playful instead of mean like in the original pitch.

All episode examples made it into the show with no changes this time. They are Tourist Trapped, Legend of the Gobblewonker, Fight Fighters, Boyz Crazy, and The Land Before Swine.

[alexiroflife]

"my duty to you"

fluff, pining, suggestive themes, kingdom au, (i was inspired by the dynamic in the movie "Epic" w/ queen tara & ronin or this one if yall know what i'm referencing)

bodyguard!toji fushiguro x royalty!reader

Synopsis: toji, a man raised in poverty who has been forced to turn to violence for the sake of survival, finds himself at the princess' side as her personal bodyguard

to sum it up: toji has never been fond of royalty, yet he submits to his responsibility to protect you with passion he has not shown to anything else

WC: 14,242

Warning(s): mentions of trauma, violence, assault, vaguely suggestive themes

Toji knows he was never cut out for an uppity lifestyle.

He’s a gruff man, rough around the edges with an air of dark mystery radiating about him. He has never believed himself to be an attractive man, at least in the realm of those who make women drop to their knees and swoon with romance. He’s more fermented, well-aged, well experienced, and he has the looks of someone who has endured hell and more, not those of a freshly groomed prince blooming in his wake.

Toji, though a man of difficult upbringing, having undergone more of reality’s harsh lessons than almost anyone in this world, has a specific set of skills that comes in handy no matter the setting. He is not a man of incredible wealth, prowess, or poise, but he can associate himself with the likes of those who are by means of what he does, and what he does remarkably well. His talents are the only reason, he believes, why he has been in your service, smack in the middle of your world for teetering into two years now.

Raised in the slums, orphaned by his absent parents, Toji taught himself a way to live. He thinks that he was born hard, when he looks back, for no one else could have survived the way he had after those years of scrounging around for food, desperately searching for change and a decently comfortable pile of grass he could sleep in. As the world grew harsher, pushing against his growing mind and body, Toji pushed back harder, angrier, more solid and more grounded. He was blessed from the moment he entered this earth with unique physical qualities that gave him an advantage when fighting to live, his internal and external mold serving as an inhuman benefit, as though he was meant to struggle the way he had all of his life. As though fighting was his destiny. 

The dark haired man had encountered many different means of keeping himself afloat over the years too, some more grim than others that he refused to look back on. Nevertheless, after the will of the merciless wind had tossed him around feverishly for far longer than he realized would have been normal for anybody else, he understood that his place in this world was to stand proudly as a man capable of unspeakable violence, inept at the art of killing for the sake of his own gain. 

It’s a dog eat dog world. Toji learned this before he even hit puberty, and therefore, he learned what it meant to transition himself into one - a far more gnarly beast than any of the world’s nastiest entities of evil could conjure. If he only had the choice of eating or being eaten, Toji was going to devour before another dog could get the chance to bare his teeth at him. 

Well into his familiarity with his own brutality, his craft honed in and sharpened to perfection and his years of youth having flown by with the snap of his fingers, Toji is recognized by a crowd that he’s despised for as long as he can remember. 

He is in the middle of a boxing match, one of many he participates in for the hell of it and the cash rather than as a profession, when a representative from the palace ogles him from the crowd, standing out as a sore thumb amidst the screaming patrons clinging to the velvet ropes of the ring, drunk off stinking liquors and spit flying excitedly from their mouths in awe as Toji, undefeated, lands a particularly gruesome blow to the face of his opponent. His foe collapses, blood smearing from his crooked nose, and the jade eyed man filled with years of pent up rage and stress, straddles the nearly unconscious man’s torso and plows his fist into his face repeatedly with wild, shrunken eyes and tight lips. 

Toji only takes notice of his visitor in the midst of his abuse, eyes flickering up quickly to mull over the crowd when he finds a terrified face masked in a black cloak, attempting to shrink into the rest of the room. But Toji sees him clearly, a palace ambassador with no place in an underground ring so far from home.

The dark haired man refuses to even look at him as the owner tells him that he has a guest. He unravels the wrap from his stained fists, back tensing. Toji tells him to fuck off, not even having to whip his head around to see who it is. He can tell by his boss’ tone and the silence of the said visitor that he is exactly who he believes him to be. That, and Toji never receives visitors, for the people who are well aware of his reputation stray far away, fearing the worst from his seemingly deadly lust for blood. 

His owner, however, does not turn the man away. Toji understands that he must have been paid a good deal in jewels by this cloaked man to allow him to stay back here, not leaving until he asks for some kind of favor. An agitated exhalation rises in Toji’s chest, heavy eyes tossing over his shoulder to glare at the ambassador. He gulps, trembling hands reaching up to lower his hood.

“The fuck do y’want?” Toji spits.

The ambassador’s hesitant gaze scatters over his bare back, his fists, the scars littering his skin and lip, and the murderous glow in his venomous eyes. He looks terrified for his life, face dotted in beads of sweat and eyes still full of innocent light quivering. “I-I’m here on- on behalf of the King and Queen.”

Toji stills, brows drawing together. The man’s words seem to have an impact on his boss, normally an uncaring man, for he leaves with a swiftness once royalty is mentioned, sworn to silence by hush money. 

Toji scoffs, shaking his head and turning back around to refocus on his task. “You got the wrong guy,” he dismisses. “Now beat it before I kill ya.”

But he doesn’t, standing his ground rather poorly, clearly shaken by the fact that his life has been threatened for what Toji can only assume to be the very first time. He rolls his eyes at the sentiment, at how weak, fragile, and perfectly stupid palace folk are. “S-Sir, please-”

“Sir?” Toji raises a brow, crouching to sit down heavily on his bench, tossing his bloodied bandages onto the ground before him. His abdominals, bulky and intensely defined, ripple with his movements as he slides his towel from his shoulders, swiping it over his skin roughly. “I ain’t no sir, pal.”

The ambassador stiffens, lips pursing together. “Um- Mr. Toji…?”

Toji twists up his mouth at him unimpressed. “Fushiguro.”

“Yes! Y-Yes, Mr. Fushiguro.”

“Christ, it’s just Fushiguro.”

“Oh,” he nods erratically. “Yes, then. Fushiguro,” he clears his throat. “I’m afraid it’s a matter of great importance.”

“Clearly it is to you lot, or else your dumbass wouldn’t be here,” Toji grumbles, settling a hand on his thigh. “I don’t have time for bullshit. You either get to the point, or the King and Queen are gonna be down one messenger.”

Toji is a violent man. He has had to be violent in order to live, in order to eat, in order to sleep, and now in his late thirties, it has become embedded in who he is. Violence is his first response to every circumstance, to every person who approaches him, to every dirty look that he is thrown, to every unknown within this world that has been nothing but greedy, cruel, and selfish to him. 

Even so, he is not always keen on his word when he threatens such things. He knows that if he were to lay a hand on this toothpick, he would be hanged and quartered within the hour, and Toji isn’t too keen on allowing the kingdom dickheads be the reason his life comes to an end after he fought so desperately to even reach past his twenties. This ambassador knows this, and yet, he is still shaking like a leaf as though Toji has any authority over him, because in truth, he does here in his territory, only temporarily. Toji can use the fear he inspires and the intimidation of his capabilities and large frame to attempt to shake a palace ambassador off of his ass, but there is nothing more to his stern words other than a desire to be left alone.

“You must listen,” the little man continues to press. “The King and Queen- t-they send me for the sake of their daughter!”

Toji groans. “I don’t give a shit who they sent you for, you’re barkin’ up the wrong tree.”

“I fear they are fully aware of who they sent me to speak with,” the ambassador’s brows angle with a sense of urgency. Toji, having been bored by the conversation, rubs his fingers over the bridge of his nose and tilts his head tiredly. “N-Not many of us know about the things you do, but I was told to seek out the strongest, and you are… him.”

“What the hell do they want me for? I ain’t got shit for you pricks. Just leave me be.”

“Fushiguro,” he calls again before Toji can stand and turn away. “I understand you may not care about what the kingdom needs, but you are being offered a great deal of money. A generous salary.”

Toji’s ears perk up at this. He rises slowly, sauntering over to the man with slim, suspicious eyes and a taut jaw. Sweat glistens his bare torso, rolled up sweats hanging low on his waist. As he grows closer, the ambassador takes notice of his great size up close, and his eyes widen as he cowers away slightly from the man that casts a shadow over him completely. 

Toji stares down over his nose and tilted chin with a frown. “A salary? From the King and Queen themselves?” he repeats, and the man whimpers a hum in affirmation. “The hell is going on? What could possibly be turning their panties in a bunch to offer a job to someone like me?”

“It’s their daughter,” the man re-emphasizes. 

“Who?”

“The princess!” he says as though it is obvious, a desperate expression taking his features. “She needs security.”

“From what?”

“The King and Queen grow old, and so does the princess. Their reign is coming to an end, and with that, the princess’s life is often endangered by those seeking to take her right to the crown while her parent’s grow less capable of ruling. There’s already been two assassination attempts and one assault attempt within the past few months,” the ambassador explains, severely. “The princess needs someone to look after her, to be by her side as she prepares to rule as queen and as she looks for a husband.”

“And you want me to be her bodyguard?” Toji raises his brows.

“In a sense… yes.”

The dark haired man snorts in the ambassador’s face, the latter deflating at his reaction. “Of all people, you want me?”

“...Yes. That is correct.”

“What, the brat doesn’t have knights or something?”

“None that are capable of what you do.”

“And how the hell do you know what I do? You come to one match and think you're an expert on my life?” Toji grits his teeth, leering down at the poor man. The ambassador raises his hands in defense, stepping back anxiously. “I see everyone and everything that crosses my path. I’ve never seen you before in my life, and all of a sudden now you show up with a job offer from the fucking King and Queen. Gimme a break.”

He walks off, irritatedly throwing his towel in the corner and ripping open his locker on the other side of the room. “You’re right. I haven’t been watching you, but I’ve been asking around town about someone who could fit the role for weeks, and everyone was too afraid to mention you until a few days ago. Since then, I’ve heard stories.”

“People here like to gossip,” Toji murmurs.

“But your name scares people, right?”

“I don’t care what my name does.”

“Fushiguro, please,” he begs. “I don’t believe you are a man who cares about what happens in the palace-”

“I’m not.”

“But you must care about a sense of duty? Of justice? Of compensation, at least?”

“Obviously I care about money more than I do any of the other shit you just mentioned. But you tell me one thing,” his face hardens. “What the hell has the kingdom done for sorry asses like me, huh? Why should I be the one to help them when they haven’t helped me a day in my life? They’re all a bunch ‘a stuck up, frilly airheads stuck in their own bubble of what they think is urgent. So what if the princess gets a little spooked here and there? Maybe it’ll teach her a life lesson about what the world is really like. ‘Cause I’ll tell ya this, the girls where I come from don’t get to have a bodyguard before bad shit happens to them.”

Toji isn’t entirely sure why he is making a point to shame the people at the top when in the end, he knows he is going to take the job. Money, Toji finds, is incredibly valuable where he is from, and considering the hands he has dirtied in the past to get it, this proposal is practically nothing. Still, that doesn’t mean he likes the kingdom any more for their lack of involvement with the lower classes. His morals, which remain very few, go against this proposal he already knows he is going to accept - slaving away for those who made him a slave to gruesome fates, but hell, what can a man really do when he’s at his wits end and unfathomable riches are being presented to him on a silver platter?

He can complain, yes, but nothing can rank higher than the money the palace is practically drowning in. Besides, he doesn’t have to stay, he thinks. He can entertain this little charade for as long as he has enough funds to set him up for life, and then he’ll be out of there. In and out, quick and easy, and this place would never see his face again. 

A grim look befalls the ambassador’s face while Toji rummages through his belongings for his clothes. He is clearly discomforted by Toji’s words, which was the goal the man aimed to achieve in the first place. 

“We can not force you to do anything you do not desire to do yourself,” the ambassador starts, and somehow, Toji senses that the man is lying for the sake of making it appear as though Toji has a choice. “But I implore you to consider. The princess is unlike her parents. She is younger, eager. There is a legacy she must carry and people she must lead. Without her, the entire kingdom collapses. Including your village.”

Toji’s nose twitches. “Maybe that’ll do this shithole some good,” he grumbles.

The ambassador sighs, shoulders slumping. “Please… think about it.”

Toji rolls his eyes, turning and knuckling a hand to his hip. “How much money ‘we talking here, buddy?”

And oh, is the pay fucking obscene.

Toji doesn’t think he’s ever fathomed such grand numbers and jewels in his head, having been restricted by his village’s limitations, but once he hears his pay manifested into reality by a simple verbalization, his guilt trip seizes and he is signing his life away almost happily.

From then on, Toji is bound to the likes of you, his signature scribbled messily over a royal contract and securing him to you from now until your death… at least, that is what the fine print says. His plans, however, differ, and when he has fled from you, he will be hundreds of miles out of the kingdom’s reach.

That is his plan. To run away, but you unfortunately do not make this a very plausible task for him.

After days of training that Toji does not at all listen to, of watching elder royalty turn their nose up in disgust at the way he speaks and carries himself, of hearing murmurs of disapproval as he saunters down red carpeting with the head guard to meet yet another person that he will not remember the name or importance of, of being sworn to secrecy - to only serve as a protective, lethal air of silence and nothing more - to refuse any and all physical or verbal interaction with the woman in his protection, and of being fitted into a stuffy black uniform clad with gold detailing that serves only for show since he would have hardly bothered to lift an arm in that uncomfortable ass thing, let alone kill someone, Toji finally meets you.

And he has to admit that you are not at all what he expects.

Adorned in a regal soft pink gown that crowds from your waist and pools down to the floor, cuffing delicately at your wrists through sheer sleeves and tugging over your torso snugly with a corset, you stand before him in your chambers like an angel gracing earth. Your bejeweled gold crown sits upon your head with complementarity and your ringed fingers clasp each other before your lap. You're decked in what Toji can only assume to be century old gems, necklaces, and chains which he has to physically fight himself from reaching to pluck from your body and run off with. Standing before him, he decides that you are worth at least twenty times more than the almost forty years of life he has spent picking around for specs of funds. 

The thought agitates him. 

While he wishes he can say that he is the only one agitated, he notices a flick of fire in your (e/c) eyes as you size him up, trace your gaze over him with judgment and a pout on your glossed lips. Your presence is almost frightening with power as the two of you stare at each other, him with blank indifference and you with very apparent disappointment. 

When the head guard eventually takes his leave now that you are in the hands of your newly bestowed bodyguard, the door closing behind the two of you as you enter the hall in preparation to go handle your duties, you stop in your tracks, dress ruffling along with you. Toji, who has been told to remain ten feet behind you at all times, freezes like a statue, eying you when you whip your head around to glare at him.

Toji’s heard of elegant aestheticism, of the otherworldly beauty that the royal family carries, but he hadn’t believed it until he sees you face to face - though he’ll admit, he imagined you to appear less… aggravated and more peachy? Light. Dimwittedly sugary.

“Listen up,” you demand, a shocking bass carrying in your tone. You’re dominant, he noticed, or at least you are attempting to be. You stand proud, tall, chin lifted and eyes narrow. This certainly isn’t the picture of spoiled naivety that he imagined you to be previously. “I don’t know whatever the royal guard told you, but I’m not a damsel in need of protecting. I didn’t agree to whatever this is or whoever the hell you are invading my life.”

Toji’s brow lifts in intrigue. You certainly are not what he expected. Not at all.

Encouraged by your tone, his lips quirk up into a subtle smirk. You drag your brows together in confusion, eyes catching the scar that stretches over the right side of his lips. “Do you find me amusing?” you frown.

“A little bit,” the dark haired man responds quickly, leading you to reel slightly in shock. He appears so unaffected by you, and you’ve never encountered a person who hasn’t scrambled to kneel in your presence or nervously abide by any and everything you say. The gaul of this stranger, you think, to stand before you so casually and smile as though your position of authority is some sort of joke.

“I beg your pardon?” you scoff. “You should mind yourself when you speak to me.”

“I’m not paid to speak to you, doll, let alone be sweet on you,” Toji scratches under his jaw, his posture slipping into something resembling his nature rather than that of a rigid guard. His hands find the pockets of his uniform slacks, hardly caring at all how disrespectful the stature appears to you. “In fact, I think you’re bein’ a little rude by tryin’ to strike a conversation with me in the first place.”

“Well, I did not advise you to answer me. I expected you to simply listen,” you state firmly. “Clearly, you are incapable of doing so without having something to say.”

Your comment is snarky, judgmental, and Toji at least finds that you match the idea of snobbiness that all royalty withhold. “If I got somethin’ to say,” he starts. “I’ll say it. You don’t gotta worry about me being untruthful with ya, I’ll tell you that. I’ll give it to ya straight.”

“And how do you think the royal guard would feel about such a thing?” you posed. “If they were to hear even a second of what you are saying to me now, you’d be booted from my side and this palace immediately.”

“And what exactly makes you think that I care about that?” he chuckles, watching you shift with sudden uncertainty. This man does not appear to be swayed by you in the slightest, and it is a bit off putting to you as a woman accustomed to your every beck and call being honored. “I thought you weren’t happy about what the ‘royal guard’ had me doin’. Besides, if you wanted me out, you’re the princess, yeah? You could kick me out yourself. I ain’t stoppin’ ya.”

Your lips tighten, eyes digging further together. His attitude is strange to you as well as his dialect, the manner in which he speaks. Even his appearance is strange, for while he is dressed in your palace’s fabrics, he is drabber than everything around you. And even with this royal clothing, his face and build do not match his suit. 

He has tired bags under his poisonous haze of ivy hues. Dark tendrils of inky hair sprout over his forehead, his ears, and into his sharp gaze. His facial structure is hard, mature with hints of stubble sprouting over his chin, remnants of what you assume to be the guard forcing him to shave. He’s bulky as well, remarkably so. He’s an unnaturally large man, and his muscles bulge against his clothing as though it is going to burst with the raise of his arm. 

His eyes, however, are pools of green you have never seen before - not once in all your twenty seven years of living. While the people that you surround yourself with carry a light in their twinkling gazes sparked by a passion for protecting your throne and the privilege of the lives they lead, your new bodyguard’s eyes are a stark contrast. Even from afar, you can see the exhaustion swirling about them as he looks at you slyly. He’s weary somehow, the windows of his soul revealing a glimpse into his world, into the things he has seen, and that is how you deduce that he is not the same as you. Not at all. 

This observation of yours only gives you more reason to question him.

“Who are you?” you command. “You’re not from here.”

“You must be a smart one,” he quips sarcastically.

You grit your teeth. “Answer me, now.”

“You know my name, darlin’. That’s all you need from me.”

“Not if your princess demands to know your identity.”

“You ain’t my princess, girlie,” he stops you. “You’re my job. And I don’t do a lot of talkin’ on the job.”

You make a noise of displeasure, something between a grunt and a gasp, and Toji only revels in the way he has thrown you off. You sputter, taking a step forward with emotion. “Now you wait just a minute-“

“Princess!” a voice calls for you from around the corner, down at the end of the long narrow hallway by your bedroom door. You quickly swish yourself around into the direction of the address, and Toji watches how your dainty fabrics dance along with you, even long after you have stopped moving. Seconds later, an ambassador appears, peeking his head around the wall. “Are you well? You are needed in the second floor den to review some papers regarding your upcoming coronation.”

Frazzled, you nod unceremoniously. “Yes. Yes, my apologies,” you breathe out. “I am coming. My guard and I were just… I was merely informing him of my expectations here on out.”

Toji would have rolled his eyes at the way you all speak, the sound of it on his ears rather exhausting. He can hardly keep up with the properness of it all. 

“I see,” the ambassador nods. “I shall inform everyone that you are on your way.”

The man leaves, and you take a moment to breathe in and dust yourself off. You murmur under your breath to yourself what Toji can only deduce as assurances and affirmations, little words you tell yourself to keep your rather striking confidence instilled. You clasp your hands once more, bracelets clinking as you regain your composure. Toji stands in silence, watching boredly.

“Whoever you are,” you begin, turning your head to your shoulder so that your voice is audible. “I don’t need you. Despite what my parents say, I manage fine on my own. Keep your distance.”

The green eyed man watches you walk off, forcing himself to begin following at a reasonable pace. His eyes train on the back of you as you trek ahead, and he finds himself lost in his thoughts, formulating his opinion of you.

You do not take to him easily over the course of your adjustment to each other, and neither does he. You find his presence to be a burden as he trails after you everywhere you go, far more invasive and persistent than your knights have ever been. He becomes your second shadow, and while you are accustomed to having been followed around all your life, Toji’s approach is impossible to ignore. 

Even from ten feet away, you feel him there, watching, and it drives you mad. 

He’s light on his feet, for if it weren’t for his obvious mass trekking in your footsteps, at times you would have forgotten that he was even nearby. How someone as big as him could travel so quietly, you did not understand.

And worse than his hovering is how foreign he still is to you. You know absolutely nothing about him, and your parents, who you find to be useless in their aging stupors these days, will not bother to tell you anything about where he is from. It isn’t the fact that he frightens you, per say, despite the rather frightening energy that he emits. You notice the way people stare as he follows your path, how they internally conjure their own ideas about who this ominous figure is and what he is doing in a place so very clearly unfit for his type, but you are not scared. You believe him to be a nuisance more than anything, and if he is there to protect you, you feel you have nothing to necessarily worry about in regard to your own safety. 

In fact, you feel unfathomably secure, though irritated more often than not.

What you seek from Toji are answers. He abruptly appears out of nowhere under the vow that he will be stuck to you like paste to parchment for the rest of your life, and you are expected not to question his arrival? To question his place of origin? To question what he has done to secure a place as the Princess’ bodyguard with no experience in this field? To question what he has done to be trusted by royalty with your life?

It doesn’t make any sense to you, and you feel that it is unfair to be kept in the dark as the future queen in place of your parents. And every time you try to go to him about it, he either ignores you or gives you that cunning smile, scar stretching and lips spreading.

Toji himself is itching to get out of here the second he’s nestled in. He despises the atmosphere, the sneering looks, the air of shrewdness that envelopes him everywhere he turns. You’re an ungrateful thing, and that only makes his job all the more aggravating. You don’t know how good you have it, and yet you look at him like he’s doing more harm to your life than good when he is literally ensuring that you are out of danger’s path.

He studies you from his position ten feet away, watching how you take on tasks and prepare for the day of your coronation, communicating with villagers surrounding the palace walls with a generous grin and a glowing energy about your presence, and how you patiently sit with your parents at breakfast, lunch, and dinner each day as they practically wither away in their seats. You are always so poised and polite in the presence of other people, authoritative and strong, yet when he is alone with you, you’re wallowing in displeasure, throwing him heated glances and clenching your jaw tightly. You find it hard to behave elegantly in his company, and that fact alone gives him some hint of satisfaction. 

But what Toji truly can’t stand above all the waiting that he has to do on you with no sign of action are the meetings you have with princes from far away, seeking to take your hand as their bride and fulfill the role as king. Toji’s found himself biting his tongue more times than he can count when he’s standing with his back pressed to the wall in one of your many tea rooms, the umpteenth shiny haired, pearly teethed virgin bowing his head before you and pompously chanting about all the wonderful things he would bring to your life if you were to allow him to wed you. Toji finds the whole thing ridiculous, for obviously you don’t want to share your crown with another man, especially not a husband, but the unspoken law of your reign requires that you must find someone to stand by your side. And of course after that is done, Toji is still expected to follow you around day in and day out.

And for what? What purpose does this bring him aside from money? He hasn’t even been given his first stipend a month into this little endeavor, and he’s beginning to think that the whole ordeal is a scam, that he had been tricked into a false agreement. He should have known when the guard outright refused to pay him up front beforehand due to their lack of trust in his goals, which in truth was fair, because the Fushiguro would have run for the hills the second he got his hands on those riches. Nevertheless, he’s growing tired of the repetitive tiredness of his routine. He was promised a chance to at least defend your honor by fighting, but despite the King and Queen’s concerns, he has not seen a single threat to your life yet. 

At night, a weight drags down on his chest as he stares up at the ceiling in a daze. He doesn’t know what he’s doing here, how he even came across such a thing. Back home, if the townfolk were to hear about where he had run off to, they’d all laugh. Toji Fushiguro, the man hungry for blood now at the will of the government that destroyed his childhood, his life. What a fucking joke. 

And you’re so perfect, it destroys him. To be serving such a deplorable image of sovereignty, to see your angelic face decorated in breathtaking clothes and to follow you around like a damn puppy with nothing to show for it. In your company, he is reminded of his place, of how much higher you are than he is. Though Toji is a man who has never cared what the higher class thought of him, in your wake, he feels helpless. He wants to say that he is holding out for a better future, that he is doing this for himself, but it doesn’t feel that way. He knows it’s not for him anymore, but for you, and what could you possibly bring him other than crisis after crisis, heart clench after heart clench, and more bubbling, searing aggravation over his place in society?

You are terribly beautiful, and Toji is not. He sees that the more he’s at your side, taking in the way everyone looks at you in comparison to how everyone looks at him. These palace walls are stuffy. They suffocate him, turn him against himself and almost make him forget who he is, and he can not stand it. 

He is convinced he needs to leave in the dead of night, to flee away without a trace left behind, off to a new world with no money and no plan. He believes that it would be a better fate than being stuck here… that is, until he is finally paid.

A monthly salary of a thousand gold and silver pennies combined. He is handed the sack of funds while he is off duty, hours after you have gone to sleep as though the exchange is illegal, and in the privacy of his cabin, his eyes glimmer with the reflection of the money in his grasp. His brow twitches, eyes still and jaw tightening.

He hadn’t believed it to be real before he got his hands on it.

He stares into the bag, into the past years he has spent on his knees crawling for barely even a scrap of this, into the future of tranquility where he can turn to rest without having to bloody his hands for the right to buy a sandwich, into everything he has ever done amounted into far less than one bag of this payment. He’s stupefied with disbelief, with greed, and hurries to escape that very night.

Toji is stripping himself of the bullshit pajamas the guard has sent for him to wear, tucking away the bullshit uniform he’s been snug in for weeks, and stuffing his pay into his beaten bag that he had tossed under his barracks. He changes back into his old clothes, the black shirt that hugs him comfortably and the sweats that pool over his calves, and he sneaks to the door when he pauses.

A glass window breaks just above him, and he whips his head up above. It’s coming from where your room is.

The dark haired man hangs his head low, conflicted. He could go, abandon you and pretend that none of this ever happened. He could go back on his promise to the kingdom, sentence himself to death by hand of royalty if he were to ever be discovered in his new home. He could flee from you, risking the chance of you dying under his protection and run off to live the life he has always dreamed of living, far from home, swimming in gold and silver.

Or he could stay. He could conquer whatever imposing danger he has detected within a half of a millisecond, his senses failing to fool him yet, and save your life. He could keep his promise to this awful society. His promise to you, and remain stuck forever.

Toji is inching out of the door, still pondering, leaning toward the latter hesitantly when a muffled scream rips from the open space of your window that has just been broken in. Your scream.

The dark haired man doesn’t know what takes over him as he drops his bag to the ground and rockets himself through his own window, foot first, to shatter the glass. His hands grip the rim as he flips himself over to face the exterior brick, digging his chipped fingernails into the crevices of the old stone to scale the side of the building that led to your room with swift agility. He claws his fingers into the ledge of your window past the grapple of a rope that was likely used to break in in the first place. A jagged edge of glass cuts his skin, but he hardly feels it due to the roughness of his callouses. 

Toji kicks his feet up and piles himself into your room, rolling onto the floor within a matter of at least five seconds. He rises slowly, chest rippling into his tight shirt as he visually locates what harm is befalling you.

You’re on your bed, kicking out against the cloaked figure hovering over you with a dirtied hand pressing over your mouth, his knees kicking open your thighs and another hand holding a dagger to your throat. A bruise circles the eye of the intruder just above the cloth worn over his mouth, likely a result of your fist to his face.

When you look up and find Toji, your panicked eyes widen in relief, your brows pressed together desperately as you screech out against the attacker’s palm. Your hair, normally so meticulously pinned is sprawled messily over your silk sheets, your satin nightgown threatening to ride up your thighs, ripped at the hims, and sweat pools over your chest as it glistens in the moonlight with each heavy, anguished breath you take. 

Toji’s eyes go dull, his face blank with something horrifying, yet familiar to him. You tremble, whimpering unintelligible sounds as the intruder turns to face Toji with foolish anger. “Get back!” he shouts through his mask. “Get back or I'll kill her!”

The knife’s tip presses further into your chin and you inhale sharply, squeezing your eyes tight and mustering up whatever strength you have left to turn and push away. 

Toji says nothing, staring emptily into your attacker’s eyes.

Toji finds that there is a certain coolness that takes over his body and mind mere moments before he goes in for a kill. He isn’t sure if it's a form of tranquility, or perhaps his fellowship with the act having done so many times over. His eyes gloss ever, and every muscle in his body smoothes out into a relaxed state. He is motionless, still as a sculpture, but his eyes are hungry with rage, flecks of red bleeding into the garden of his IRISES, honing in on his target before he pounces.

You don’t even see Toji move before your attacker is ripped off of you and you can finally breathe, scrambling to press your back to your headboard and stare ahead in horror. You swear you had only blinked, but by the time your teary vision refocuses, Toji is drenched up to his forearm in blood, a curved blade which seemed to manifest out of thin air clutched in his hand. His arm is curved over his mouth, reaching back over his alternate shoulder as though he had just made a slicing motion. His breathing is slow, smooth, and a headless body collapses onto your floor.

Wide eyes of fear-stricken (e/c) stare at the mangled corpse leaking out onto your expensive carpet, and you don’t even notice the splatter of blood that has reached your cheek from Toji’s nimble action. You’re hyperventilating, attempting to gather yourself after having been stolen from your sleep and held at knifepoint, and now suddenly your attacker is dead on the ground. It had all happened so fast. Your head is spinning, and you’re shaking terribly. You can’t even see straight. 

With a heavy exhale, Toji lowers his twitching bicep to his side, tossing his weapon off in the corner with a resounding clang! He rolls his head on his neck, stretching it from side to side and cracking it softly, before opening his eyes to find you. 

You stare at each other in heavy silence, you in grateful, terrified disbelief, and him with the knowledge of how you will react to his violence. He has seen it before. The screeches that follow, the running that ensues.

He waits for it, but… it doesn’t come.

Instead, you just stare at him like a deer in headlights.

He moves to ask if you are alright, to do something to break the air, when your door bursts open after hefty pounds at your door. Your parents and a few guards, who Toji now sees are quite useless, stand in the doorway, wide-eyed. 

Your parents move to comfort you and envelop you in their arms while the guards run to the scene in shock, mulling over the body that lay before Toji. He gets an earful, angry reprimanding about having done such a horrible act right before your eyes, and Toji looks over at you, finding that your eyes are already in him.

You try to speak up and say that he had no other choice, to actually defend Toji in your shaken state, but the authorities around you hear none of it and usher to whisk you away while Toji and a few knights are left to take care of his mess. You look over your shoulder, gluing your gaze to him as you are pulled carefully away. 

By the time Toji is finished, cleaned, and has been lectured by the guard, he finds himself rather exhausted, but all he can think about is whether you’re alright or not. He is told that he can find you in the library on the west wing. He ventures out and reaches the space, finding you seated in a lavish sofa before your fireplace with the room guarded by your father and mother who whisper urgently with more knights. When they look up and see Toji, however, they fall silent and immediately part to let him in. 

He quietly approaches, shutting the door softly behind him. He doesn’t make a sound, but you turn upon sensing him in the room. You’re cuddled into a warm blank that is wrapped over your shoulders, eyes heavy and tears damp. You sit in a sullen state, a still mess.

Toji rounds the sofa to stand far on your left side, body half concealed by the shadows of the unlit side of the library. The fire kindles gently over your face and in your eyes as you stare. Toji thinks that you almost look like a child this way, so vulnerable and disheartened. 

He’s seen things like this happen to women every day at home, only he didn’t always make it to help in time. For the first time since knowing you, he sees the same trauma in your eyes, the glimmer of innocence dimming ever so slightly. 

The dark haired man is not good with emotions, and he knows for damn sure that he will not know how to approach your own. He isn’t even meant to be speaking with you, but something deep in his bones is compelling him to you after witnessing you in such a horrible state. 

It’s his job after all. 

“You hurt?”

The question is gruff, blunt, and you look at him but not with an expectation for more. You sit with your knees to your chest as well, a position he has failed to ever see the Princess herself in. 

Eventually, you shake your head and look back to the fire crackling before you. “No.”

He hums, darting his eyes over you quickly. He sees a thin line of blood on your chin where the blade had been pointed into your skin. “You lyin’?”

You glance at him tiredly. “I am not injured,” you say again.

“Alright. You’re not injured.”

You look down, picking at your blanket as you chew on the inside of your lip. “…Toji.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you an assassin?”

The question catches Toji off guard, almost making him laugh. “That’s a little personal, doll.”

“I believe I deserve to ask right now. Forget the rules, the guards were not there. You were.”

He relaxes. You’ve got a point. “No. I ain’t an assassin. At least not every day.”

“But you have… done that before…”

“How else do you think I got the job?”

“Right,” you mutter as if reprimanding yourself for asking something so obvious. “You’re rather fast.”

He’s unsure where this stream of questions are coming from. You are still mellow, speaking below a whisper, but your eyes are in a different space away from what is before you. 

“Fast’s an understatement,” he mumbles and you give a nod, at least agreeing. “But yeah. I’m fast. Among other things.”

“And how long have you been…?”

“Killing?” Toji concludes the sentiment for you. You clamp your lips, retreating into yourself. “You can say it. It’s not gonna hurt ya.”

“Well, how long?”

Toji shrugs. “A while now I guess. I’m not a killer, but I do what I need to do when I have to.”

You nod, unable to find a verbal response to his words. Your lips purse forward and your eyes still beam into the fireplace in a daze.

Toji crosses his arms. “You scared of me yet?”

You exhale, corners of your lips tugging to the side. “You saved my life,” you say. “I am not scared of someone who has been hired to protect me.”

“That wasn’t really a pretty sight for a princess to see, though,” Toji attempts to reason.

“Yet you were not the man with the knife to my throat, were you?”

Toji falters. Once more, you’re right, but he’s a bit confused. He would have expected you to turn away from him, to reject his violent nature after seeing what he could do. But here you are, complacent with his abilities. Is it because of the shock?

He looks at you closer, but does not see any lingering signs of unawareness, or any stupor that freezes your mind and body. While you still look like you are slightly in a trance, you appear to simply be contemplating instead of suffering from shock. 

How are you so chill about all of this?

“I heard you’ve been attacked before,” Toji says rather bluntly. This makes you peek up, locking your eyes with his steely ones from afar. 

An exhale shakes your body. “So?”

“So?” he echoes with a scoff. “That’s not a big deal to you?”

“I told you before that I did not need you,” you say somewhat gently. “What you have seen tonight has happened more than you think, and will continue to happen in the future.”

“I hate to break it to ya, doll, but it didn’t look like ya didn’t need me. You didn’t really have much of a choice but to let me help you.”

“I have gotten out of those situations before. I could have gotten out of this one.”

Toji looks at you oddly. “Not from where I was standin’, you couldn’t.”

“I’m not weak,” you frown.

“I didn’t say you were. Hell, I saw the black eye you landed on the bastard before I snuffed his ass out,” Toji grumbles. “But you’re the Princess. Fightin’ isn’t your thing, it’s mine.”

“Do not attempt to fool me into thinking you wish to fight on my behalf,” you look him in the eye as you speak. “After all, you believe me to be inexperienced, don’t you? Sheltered. Naive.”

A moment of silence passes as Toji stares at you intensely, face cold. “Yeah. I do,” he admits. “If you’ve seen enough shit I’ve seen, you’d get why.”

Your eyes dance over his face with a pensive expression of patience. Your brows are slightly angled, denting the spaces between them, yet you breathe so deeply that it almost fools Toji into believing you are at peace.

“When I was six years old,” you start abruptly. “A tutor of mine tossed a candle to my head because I could not complete my times tables correctly. The wax and flame burned my shoulder badly when I tried to dodge. I have worn long sleeve gowns since,” you confess.

The dark haired man frowns, befuddled while you proceed.

“My grandmother, who had been heavily involved in my bringing when I was a child, was obsessed with cleanliness. Every night before I went to bed, she would inspect my room to ensure that it was tidy. If a single spec of dust was found on my floor, she would raise the back of her hand and smack me clear across the face. ‘You are a princess,’ she would say. ‘Princesses do not behave like slobs.’ Then she’d make me clean the room all over again. If it was still not to her liking, she would continue to hit me, and so on. I had welts on my body for years. I would try to ask my parents to tell her to stop, but they ranked her authority over my own every time. They believed her to be teaching me discipline. Now I do not sleep at night without inspecting every inch of my room for anything that is out of place.”

Toji’s face smooths slowly into something unreadable as he listens to you.

“When I was seventeen, I learned that men sought to ruin me. Diplomats and countrymen would visit with the same look in their eye when they saw me as I grew, seeking to force their hand to mine. One of them was banished after having been caught throwing himself onto me when I was alone. He left bruises on my arm from gripping me too hard when I tried to run away.”

Toji falters completely now, internally guffawed by your revelations.

“Over the years, I have been beaten, assaulted, and almost killed by those close to me, by those envious of me, and by those who want but can not have me. And now, with the influx of assassination attempts, I can do nothing but what I have been doing all my life; stand strong and kick.”

Your eyes swirl with honesty and grief as they lock with Toji’s pools of torment. “I may not know who you are, nor do I know where you came from or what you have been through, but do not assume that because we do not share the same origins that I am a stranger to the world’s cruelty. The kingdom tricks you into believing that we are a perfect society, when in reality, we are tainted by dark secrets swept under the rug and generational traumas. I have seen enough of reality within these palace walls surrounded by people I am meant to trust, only I do not trust any of them but myself. 

“I can see it in your eyes that you are broken too. You carry yourself in such a way, but do not allow that to blind you from any hardships I have experienced in my life. We are not the same, but I know inhumanity very well.”

Toji, rendered speechless for the first time in a very long time, watches as you lean over and reach to the other side of the sofa for something on the floor. You gradually reveal his satchel, the one he had dropped to rush to save you, and sit it on the cushion beside you. Toji’s eyes widen slightly when the contents of his bag clink together like wind chimes brushing each other in the wind.

“One of the royal guard found this in the hall,” you say calmly, lowering your hand back under your blanket. “I told him to let me hold onto it. That you must have misplaced it. Were you planning to leave tonight?”

Toji exhales, threading his fingers through his hair and glancing over the floor. Still moved by what you had told him about your upbringing, the man finds himself caught off guard once more by your confrontation. You’re smart, he has to hand it to you. Much smarter than he had previously given you credit for.

“Let’s face it,” Toji sighs. “You and I both know I don’t belong here. The whole kingdom knows. This place isn’t where I’m s’posed to be.”

“And still you took the job anyway,” you challenge. “This was your scheme all along? To take off with the first bit of money you acquire from watching over me?”

“Do you expect anythin’ more?”

“I expected you to be wiser,” you admit. 

“I am bein’ wise.”

“By fleeing from the only life of luxury that you have ever known?”

“I don’t live in luxury here, doll. I’m your bodyguard.”

“Even so, your bag is full of enough money to buy yourself a home, and that is only the first monthly payment. That isn't a luxury to you?”

“Luxury, to me, is doin’ what I want when I want it without havin’ to worry about anything else ever again.”

“Then where are you supposed to be?”

“Far from here.”

“You did sign a contract, you know. The guard and my parents would not take well to your abrupt absence. You would be treasoned.”

“Which is why I’d be long gone before they could find me.”

You sigh, turning away. Toji monitors you for a sign of disappointment, of anger, of desperation, but instead you remain indifferent. “I will not stop you if you choose to go,” you say.

Toji cocks a brow, lowering his arms to his sides. “You won’t?”

“You are your own man with your own ability to make decisions. I do not fault you for wishing to leave. I do not know you well enough to do so.”

Toji eyes you harshly, stepping closer and breaking the barrier of a ten foot distance. He approaches the other side of the sofa, peering down at you heavily as if to piece you apart. “You’re just gonna let me go,” he tests. “The hell do you gain from that?”

“Must it be about what I gain?” you ask. 

“I’m just a little shocked you’re not more pissed about this.”

“Toji, I was the Princess before you came and I will continue to be the Princess after you leave. I am not angry about what life you choose to live if it is separated from mine. I do not know what is best for you. That’s for you to decide.”

“And what about your guard?”

“They will be fine.”

“What about you?”

You soften. “I will be fine too.”

His mouth twitches. “I ain’t convinced.”

“Do you wish to leave or not?” you question. “You can not worry for my sake and desire to run away at the same time.”

“I ain’t-“ he stops himself, shaking his head and pressing his hands into the armrest. He wants to deny caring about what will happen to you, but his current hesitation over leaving proves otherwise. “You coulda died.”

“I could have died many times,” you counter. “I always manage.”

“And if one day, you don’t?”

“That will not happen.”

“Yeah, only if I’m there.”

You raise your brows and Toji catches himself, clenching and unclenching his jaw. He glances at his bag and reminds himself of his future, of his plans, of his life, and then he looks back at you, swarming in your wool blanket with such lovely eyes. Free of your jewelry, your crown, and your extravagant gowns and makeup, you look more human. You look softer, and Toji battles a newfound internal conflict - his growing desire to stay. 

Slowly, a soft smile rises to your lips that does not reach your eyes. Your soft skin, aglow by the flames before you, illuminates the warmth of your expression. “Do not tell me you are beginning to feel a duty toward me?”

“Duty ain’t in my vocabulary,” Toji defends, looking away. 

“Then why are you still here?”

He catches the testing look on your face and exhales in weary amusement. “Don’t get smart with me now, Princess. You won’t win that battle.”

“Just make up your mind, Toji,” you tilt your head and toss him a knowing look. 

You carefully shift and maneuver your body around so that you are laying your head on the cushion with your legs curled up to you, Toji’s bag still sitting on your left. The said man’s eyes follow the motion. “What’re you doin?” he asks.

“I’m going to try to get some rest,” you murmur, though you do not close your eyes. You stare ahead in exhaustion, but no urge to sleep comes over you. “You may do as you please. If you are not here in the morning and your bag is gone, I will assume that you have left.”

Toji looks back at his bag, torn. He’s itching to grab it, to swipe it up in his grasp and make a break for it, but there you are. The Princess, soon to be Queen of everything Toji has ever resented, and suddenly he feels a human connection to you. The things you told him, the steadiness of your voice as you spoke, the maturity in your eyes, the hidden, harbored scars, the arrogant will you carry to proceed into this life alone despite your susceptibility to harm… it got to him. 

And when he saw your face as you lay trapped under your intruder, how your body writhed with the involuntary will to fight despite your disadvantage, Toji was taken completely by an urge, a responsibility to protect you. To look after you. To kill for you. 

Therefore, neither of you say a word when Toji moves to pick up his bag and toss it onto the floor. In its place, he sits at your feet and tosses his arms over the back of the headrest, legs sprawled out before him as he watches the fire beside you. 

He stays there until the sunrise, and solidifies his fate.

After that night, Toji feels himself changing. Time goes by and you only grow stronger, approaching your coronation swiftly and taking on the role of Queen with regal pride. Toji finds himself staring at you when he’s by your side, which you have appointed him to after having a tense conversation with the royal guard, resulting in him no longer having to linger ten feet away at all times. He stands rather closely now when it is appropriate to do so, glaring ahead menacingly as he towers over your frame while you conduct meetings or speak with foreign princes and diplomats, who Toji keeps a sharp eye on with the knowledge of what you shared with him about your past interactions. 

He thinks of the pressure that weighs over you, and studies how you harbor so along with your traumas with so much poise. You don’t allow the things you have gone through to weigh you down, to deter your path, and he grows impressed with the strength of your mind. Without such, you likely would not be where you are today. 

Toji becomes one of the very few people you entrust your life with, if not the only person you fully trust to take your life into his hands. Despite his initial plans to leave you, he proves himself loyal to you, standing guard outside your room every night instead of retreating to his chambers and preventing disasters before they even happen. With his keen senses and hawk-like gaze, he catches suspicious figures in crowds, which he can recognize easily due to his upbringing as well. He used to be one of those lurking shadows, stalking packed spaces to find a target, only he was always too swift to be caught. 

Toji now takes to disposing of the people who mean you harm in private, away from your vision. While you are well aware of his capabilities, Toji has a tendency to become borderline sadistic when killing for you. Inspired now by his respect for you and your budding relationship, the honesty in your eyes and the sanctity of your life in his hands, he is more ruthless than he ever has been before in private, and he does not want you burdened by the vision. The guard does not question him, taking to caring for your parents and watching the palace walls while Toji handles the direct threats unto you. No one in the palace questions him any longer, for you have grown close to him and he to you, and the proof of him risking himself time and time again for the sake of you forces all heads away and onto the next thing. 

During the day, he is still and mute, a brick wall of eerie, bulky freight, but at night when you are alone, he’s making you laugh, sharing stories with you about gruesome bar fights he has been involved in and past jobs that have given him a run for his money. You always listen with curiosity, eyes bright with intrigue as a long forgotten book lay in your lap as you watch him, absorbing tellings of a world far from your reach. He does his best to leave out gory details, like the things that tend to keep him up at night, the things he is ashamed of having lived, but you always understand. You can always see more of him than he lets on in his gaze, how he stands and tenses, how he looks away after having held your gaze for too long. 

The dark haired man finds that he has never felt such security that you bring him, that while he keeps you safe, he feels safe in your defense, in your presence, in your path. You ease his mind somehow with your gentle grace and your unearthly beauty, with your loud cackles that he draws from you after dinner when he walks you to your room, a far cry from the contained chuckles you allow to slip when cozying up to someone for diplomatic and political purposes. 

You ease his mind with your warm grins, your soft hands that brush his arm when you get his attention, with the sweet breath that tickles his ear when you lean up to cup your hand over your mouth and whisper something to him. He always has to lean down for you as you reach up on your tiptoes, informing him of a task he must carry out in secret when all he can think about is the shiver that racks his spine when your coo of a whisper flutters directly into his ear. 

Toji does not want to admit that you make him feel strange when he starts to notice the way his chest tightens as you brush past, the air of your perfume lingering in his nose. He does not want to admit that this foreign warmth he now feels takes over his entire being, melting his hardened soul after he believed it to be beyond repair. He does not want to admit that he recognizes this feeling as love solely because he has never felt it before, never experienced the visceral pump of his blood into his heart or the honeyed comfort that slips into his understanding of lust. He does not want to admit that you attract him as more than someone he wishes to ravish, but as someone he has come to cherish deeply. 

He does not think it affects his job, for he has been at your side for nearly a year when you are finally appointed Queen and he still performs incredibly well. He stands at the upper corner of the grand hall, diamond chandelier twinkling brilliantly above your head in your wake as you inch your way down the aisle and up the purple velveted carpet. The kingdom watches you in awe, your gold encrusted gown dragging delicately over the floor, manicured hands clasped before you as you approach with your chin high and your chest puffed. You are a vision of artistry, of indescribable, unfathomable beauty, and Toji knows he loves you when he catches himself smiling gently as he watches you graze the room like fresh dew beaming on a crisp, sunlit morning. 

There is no sign of an attack when your new crown is placed upon your head, thanks to Toji and the word of his talents spreading like wildfire across villages, lands, and kingdoms alike. The entire world by now must know of the Queen’s bodyguard, who sticks to her side like glue and wipes out anything that even thinks of creeping into her path. His reputation proceeds him once more, yet now, he is proud of who he has become. He is proud, now, that he is killing for the good that is you, a woman deserving of every goodness that comes to her in this world, instead of for his own survival.

You do not marry. You refuse once you gain the power to deny the visiting of any more suitors, much to Toji’s relief. He had never been a fan of watching men kiss your feet, take your pretty hand in theirs and look you in the eye with a bent knee. He would have killed them all if you had not frowned upon so, for he did not believe anyone to be as deserving of a woman working to rebuild the economy for the sake of Toji’s village and all those who suffered along with him with such compassion and selflessness, not even him - as much as he cared for you.

Somehow, Toji’s duty to you triumphs over his desire for you. While he struggles, he respects you more than he has respected any human being in his life. His job is to make sure that you live, and that you do so peacefully and happily. You have transformed him into a noble man, and how you did so, he barely knows. What he does know, however, is that he loves you as much as he honors you. You are his Queen, he is your bodyguard - your right hand. He would never interfere with the boundaries set between the two of you, with the responsibility he has to you. 

Consequently, he stubbornly pushes away the telling looks that you share with him, your eagerness to jest, to press your touch to him and feel you near him, to remind yourself that he is still there. 

He knows. He sees it in your eyes, the unspoken yearning, the reason why you do not wish to marry anyone else, and you know that he knows, but he says nothing. He breaks his gaze away, he guides you back with a gentle hand to your waist and upper arm, and he leaves you every night, redrawing the line, keeping you at such a close distance. 

It’s been two years. The two of you now know one another better than you’ve known anyone, and Toji has been with you through thick and thin, through the death of you parents, the conflict with the council over the uncertainty regarding a future heir, your silent fatigue that only shows itself at the end of the day when no one else is looking and it is only you and him as he bids you good night. He’s seen it all, and you have seen him just as clearly. 

Tonight is no different as you enter your room sluggishly, sinking into the edge of your bed as you gaze ahead, an emptiness in your eyes. Toji stands at your door, examining you sternly. You look beat, aged by the years and the burden of ruling. The veil of composure lifts from you, and you slump, gown crowding over the floor and your aching feet, which dangle over the bed. 

Wordlessly, the dark haired man sighs and closes the door behind him. Within a second, he is kneeling before you, calloused hands grazing over the many layers of your gown to delicately cup your ankle. His touch pulls you back to reality and you look down, brows curling ever so subtly.

Toji cradles the back of your ankle and grips the stem of your glass heel. He slowly glides the cramping footwear from your foot, setting it to the side once it is free from its confinements. You watch him with ardor swelling in your gaze, his hands so rough when handling others, smoothing over your skin as though you are fragile.

He moves to your other shoe and glances up when he catches you staring in that way that makes his heart ache. “What is it, doll?” he murmurs, the nickname he bestowed upon you once condescendingly having stuck in a sweeter, more genuine manner. 

You don’t answer. You only gaze gratefully, tiredly, while Toji sets your other shoe to the side. He stays down on his knee, looking up at you. 

“You alright?” he asks and you sigh deeply. 

“You are the only person in this world I feel I can be myself with,” you eventually say earnestly, gently. Toji blinks, shifting slightly and nodding slowly.

“Back at ya,” is all he can manage to say under your loving stare. He almost feels suffocated by the way your eyes swallow him whole. “I get what you mean.”

“Everyone is just so-” you lift your hands in an attempt to physically depict what you want to say, but the words fail you and your arms stall in the air. “So-”

“Shitty?” Toji fills in with his own words for it, and you smile with a light giggle.

“Yes,” you drop your hands to your lap. “Shitty.”

Toji chuckles, the sound of you cursing still so funny to him. “Don’t I know it,” he agrees. He looks over your gown before back into your eyes, preparing to stand. “I’ll go call for the maids so they can’t get you outta this thing. You need to sleep.”

“Don’t,” you shake your head the second he moves to get up. He stops, sinking back down. “Not right now. I don’t want to see anyone else but you.”

Toji clenches his jaw, your words so sweet it kills him. “Don’t you wanna change? You get cranky in this thing after dark,” he jokes. 

“I know,” you say. Something flickers in your eyes as you look over his figure, a hint of desire swirling into weariness. “You do it.”

Toji furrows his brows. “What?”

“I want you to help me out of my dress instead,” you whisper. The green eyed man thinks he must have heard you incorrectly, his eyes going wide as he registers your request. “There’s nightgowns in that dresser over there. Bring one to me.”

“(Y/n),” he warns, heart fluttering and skin flushing over his chest. “I’m not gonna do that. It’s not right.”

“Why not?” you press. “As your Queen, I am giving you a task.”

“Yeah, but-” he scoffs, shaking his head. “I’m not gonna strip ya. That ain’t… I won’t do that.”

“Toji,” you lean forward, lids heavy over your eyes. You call his name sternly, yet still so quietly, and he can not help but bide by your will each time his name slips from your tongue in such a way when you need him. “I am asking you to help me. It is not wrong if it is what I want.”

“It’s wrong ‘cause I’m your bodyguard, not your-”

His words die in his throat before he can finish his sentence. “Not my what?” you mumble.

He gets lost in your gaze, in your scent, and he is struggling to find the words. His face is tense, brows knitted and lips curled, his scar creasing along with them. “I’m not in any place to do this stuff. You know that.”

“You are because I say that you are.”

“Anyone ever tell ya you can be a little cocky?” he smirks lightly to sway the mood. 

“Yes,” you roll your eyes. “You have.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he snickers. “Well, you are.”

“Stop trying to change the subject. Help me out of this dress.”

“Doll-”

“Now.”

Toji exhales, for he finds that he has no other choice once you have made up your mind about something. He pushes himself to his feet and stands over you, holding his hand out to you. “C’mon,” he mutters.

You slip your dainty handy into his palm and allow him to pull you up gently to your feet. Your face meets his chest, his height never failing to shock you up close, and when you look up he’s already peering down at you with heavy eyes. 

“Show me how to undo this thing,” he says impatiently under his breath, and you can tell by his hastiness that his nerves are jumping.

“I will, but you need to take your time. It’s fragile,” you whisper and he nods slowly.

“Alright.”

“Can you remove my jewelry?”

He inhales sharply. “Alright,” he says again.

You turn slowly, moving your hair out of the way to expose your neck to him. He grits his teeth, seeking some sort of self control as his fingers move to unclasp your many chains of expensive necklaces. His knuckles brush your skin, and he watches as bumps ghost over your neck after he has touched it. 

Your scent invades him as his hands lower over your shoulders to bring your necklaces down from your chest. His chest bumps against your back accidentally, brushing over your shoulders, and you both twitch at the contact. God, he feels like a teenage boy, losing himself over breathing you in. 

You tell him to go place the necklaces on their stand on your armoire, then to find a nightgown for you to wear. Toji feels weak, rifling through your clothes as though it is a sin to even be seeing them. Your silk fabrics smooth over his fingers before he pinches one into his hand and brings it to lay out on your bed. 

“Now, see the string tying my corset in the back?” you ask over your shoulder, Toji humming distractedly when he locates it and stands behind you again. “Unravel it.”

As though entranced by your demand, he does, despite every voice in his heading screaming in protest. He should not be with you like this, the Queen, so privately in your room lit daily by the kiss of candlelight and swarmed by the scent of patchouli incense and your damned perfume. Toji’s head feels hazy, thick digits tugging at your string and drawing it out slowly, watching as the ribbon unfolds and drapes down your train.

“Now what?” he murmurs.

“Loosen it so I can take it off.”

“Heh?” he scrunches his brows, looking over the weaving of the lace between your corset. 

“Just peel either side of the corset back,” you clarify. “Now that it’s untied, it will come apart.”

He obliges with uncertainty, cautiously tugging back either side of the thick fabric, the lace stretching and pooling over your back. “Okay, I’m going to raise my arms so you can pull it over my head.”

“Jesus, this thing is so damn extra.”

“Be quiet and just do it.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

You lift your arms into the air and Toji catches the way your curves peak out. His eye twitches as he pulls the corset over your head, off your arms, and from your body. A second corset, thinner and more form fitting, graces your waist and exposes your bare back to him, as well as the healed burn on your right shoulder that you told him about so long ago.

He clears his throat, setting the outer corset onto the bed with his fingers stilling on your hip. “What now?” he asks.

“Do the same with the rest. This one’s connected to the bottom part.”

“...What about your… uh…”

“There’s another layer under it, don’t worry,” you assure him. “Why? Is my fierce and scary bodyguard nervous?”

“Don’t even,” he grumbles and your shoulders shake with a silent laugh.

The ruffle of your clothing fills the air as Toji works his fingers through the second set of lace, loosening it and pulling it from your body. You slide your arms from the thin straps of this layer and allow Toji to drag the fabric down. His eyes train on the way it smooths over your frame, a nude colored set revealing as he pulls, pulls, pulls until the fabric is pooling around your ankles.

All that you are covered in now is a hoop cage over your hips and sleeveless underwear the same shade as your skin tone that holds you sinfully tight. Toji’s heart is in his ears and the blood in his body is surging out everywhere, including toward his crotch. He’s biting down on his teeth so hard as he holds your arm and helps you step out of the net like framing for your gown, breaths labored.

Your dazzling (e/c) hues catch his as his hand lingers on your waist and your arm, his figure now before you again. He keeps a tough facial expression, but his eyes yet again give him away as he coolly takes in your body, the way your cleavage pools out of your garments and your skin milks into a breathtaking glow. 

You feel his thumb swipe over the curve of your back, experimentally caressing the space as his other hand slides up your arm and over your shoulder. His thumb touches your chin, reels back hesitantly, then touches again, sliding delicately over your cheek. You welcome the contact, your hands raising to press against his lower abdomen as he lingers over you, so closely, so intimately. You can feel his abdominals, rigid and tense, contract beneath your palms though they are barely touching him, and you look down at how small your fingers look pressing into the wall of his stomach. 

“Doll,” he murmurs, voice gravelly and husky as it breathes out. You hum, lashes fluttering when his hand slides to hold the entire side of your face. He melts before you, your beauty so striking that it almost scares him, and nothing has ever scared Toji Fushiguro before. “You need to get to bed.”

“In a bit,” you mutter, gaze wandering over his lips and back up to his eyes. You sink into him, inching closer until he’s surrounding you, swarming you. “Stand with me like this longer.”

“I can’t stay here much longer. You know that.”

“What I say goes. I say you can.”

“(Y/n).”

“No,” you breathe, shaking your head as he looks over your features softly. “I do not care.”

“Well, I do,” he says, brushing a piece of hair gently from your forehead. You lean into his palm, a soft pout on your lips. “I’ve got one job, and that’s to keep you safe, y’understand?”

“And that is all this is?” you murmur, eyes darting over him. “That is the only reason you protect me? Because it is your job?”

He tilts his head slightly, smoothing his hand up and down your spine as you push yourself closer to him. Against his better judgment, against his instincts, he allows you. Even if just for a moment. Even if he never gets to feel you this way again, so plush against him, yearning and wistful.

“You know that ain’t true,” he tells you.

You bring your hands up, smoothing them up to his chest and you coo. “So stay,” you beg. “Please.”

“You’re killin’ me, y’know that?” he exhales, his nose brushing against yours as you close in on him, just centimeters away from his lips. 

He holds you, shares the same breath as you, and in this moment he forgets about the barrier between you. He forgets where he came from, he forgets what your role in this world is, he forgets his duty to you and how complicated it is that it has now molded into some emotional connection. He forgets that you will need to marry one day to continue your legacy, that he himself is not a King nor a man of royalty, that he was born of hate and abandonment while you were born to be something. He forgets, as your warmth consumes him and the taste of you is so close he can smell it, that he could never take your relationship beyond what it already is. That he is not, and never has been, a man made for love yet somehow you have fooled him into believing that he is made for loving you.

“Why are you fighting me,” your eyes close, fingers inching over his shoulders and arms wrapping around his neck.

“‘Cause I can’t let myself do this to ya,” he grumbles.

“Why?”

“Stop asking me questions.”

“Do you love me?” 

The question is a heated gasp against his mouth, and Toji, no longer harboring the willpower to push away from you, can only respond honestly.

“Y’know I do.”

Your fingers tangle into his silky black hair and his hand brings your faces together. “Then stay.”

“Okay.”

Your lips feel like a fluff of cloud melting into his, the rich, sugary taste of your mouth clashing into his own. You’re soft against his hard body as you crush into him, swooning and sinking as though you no longer have the strength to stand and he is catching you, bringing you to him as though it is the last time he will ever touch you in such a way, the last time he will ever have the privilege of tasting your sacred mouth.

Toji is a rough man, but he handles you gingerly, gradually as he savors you for everything his life has ever been worth. You overstimulate him with your mind numbing squeezes and the gentle sounds of satisfaction that slip from your throat into his. Toji thinks he can die blissfully happy as he encircles you, ravaging your lips with hard brows and a fuzzy mind. He crowds over you, so tall and big that you have no choice but to succumb to all of him in his embrace. He overpowers you, and you adore it, ruffling messily through his locks as his hands wander your hips generously, appreciatively, lovingly. 

He guides you back, leaning over with his hand firm to your back to ease you onto your bed, lips still locked. His body is thinking for itself as his lips swarm you, tongue gliding into yours and searching every space of your cavern. You arch into him needily, sensually, and Toji pushes further though remaining mindful not to hurt you. He wouldn’t dare. 

Your thighs lift to crowd his torso as he curves down into you, hovering over your gorgeous body. His lips crash into your cheek, over your jaw and down your neck, sliding his tongue hungrily over your skin with heady groans. Your lips part and your head tosses back onto your sheets, hushed gasps and contented sighs spilling from you, and even the noises you make are as angelic as you are. 

His large hand cradles your head as he ducks down to care for your chest, hot lips sucking over your skin like he is enjoying a meal. Your hands tighten in his hair, his mouth easing you into astounding pleasure before his lips are back on yours, more desperate, more lustful. 

“Toj…” you moan and he grunts into you, arms caging you beneath him and lower half pressing into your own. Your blurry eyes peer past strands of his hair as he consumes you, kisses you, worships you. 

“Yeah, darlin,” he exhales into your mouth as your bodies writhe against the barrier of clothing. “Talk t’me. What is it, my girl?”

“Do not… mmm, don’t leave me. Not tonight,” you plead in between weighted kisses.

Toji pulls back to look you in the eyes, hands exploring all over you. “Nothin’ could take me from you now, doll,” he swears, pupils enlarged and shrinking the green expanse of his eyes. “I’ll take good care of ya, promise. I swear on m’life. I got you, baby, I got ya.”

You whimper and his lips find yours again, kissing into you his promise of devotion.

Toji swaddles you with love for hours on end, into the early morning, molding marks of his loyalty over your stomach and down your legs, kissing over your scars, and pulling release after release from your core. He’s tender, firm but soft as he makes love to you and molds the shape of him into your essence. Imprints of your fingernails into his skin and your teeth marks into his shoulder encourage him to drag every moan, every ounce of fluid from your body. And god, you feel better than Toji could have ever envisioned. You’ve ruined him with your passion, with your pretty entranced gazes and your loving kisses, your insatiable need for him to give you more and for yourself to give him more. You’re sweet. So sweet, and Toji loves you more than himself, therefore he promises to give you what you want tonight and to return to his responsibility tomorrow.

It is his duty to you after all, to protect you, to love you from afar.

[hughjackmansbicep]

Idk if you’re taking requests now but can you please write a Logan x reader who likes flowers🥺 like someone gives her a flower and she gets very happy so he decides to buy bouquets for her to see her happy

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Warnings: Uhhhh none??? Cuss words???

Word Count: 1.08k

a/n: omg my first request!!!! been waiting for one :DD i hopes you like hope i delivered well...... im so bad at making endings i never know how the fluff to do it rahhhhh !!!!! enjoy enjoy feel free to request friends i find this sm funnnnnnn

Unbeknownst to you, Logan took note of everything about you. He’d watch the way your eyes sparkled when you'd walk through the garden; he’d admire the way you carefully hand-selected flowers for whatever bouquet you were making that week; and even though he always seemed annoyed when you'd make whoever was driving pull over so you could pick the wildflowers on the side of the road, he secretly adored it. So when one of the students made a beeline for you, roses picked from the garden in hand, he took extra notes seeing something so simple make your entire week.

“It was just the sweetest thing!” You boasted about the flowers for the thousandth time; Logan didn't mind though; he could listen to you talk all day long. You could've been reciting War and Peace to him, and he'd still be utterly infatuated with every word that fell from your tongue. The two of you were sitting on a bench in the garden as you rambled on about those darn roses when Rouge had appeared holding a vase with the most gorgeous floral arrangement. “These were just dropped off for you.” She spoke, holding the bouquet out. “Oh my! Did they say from who?” You were grinning from ear to ear as you admired the flowers. “Nope! Card didn't say either.” You fished for the folded-over cardstock; opening it just left you with even more questions. ‘In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you’ was all that was printed on the card—no name, no initial, not even a hint of who might this be from. You looked up, giving Rouge a warm smile and thanking her before heading inside to set up your new arrangement.

You'd just finished cutting and placing your new flowers in a vase when Logan waltzed into the kitchen, “Who do you think they're from?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, “Not sure, but whoever they're from, they certainly know my favorite flowers.” You smiled down at the flowers, thankfully paying no real mind to Logan. His face was completely flush as he tried to mask the smile making its way to his lips with a quick swig from his beer. He just silently nodded in your direction before yelling a quick goodnight to you as he swiftly made his exit out the kitchen.

This continued on for weeks, your secret admirer sending flowers to you, sweet notes attached to all of them. You had saved every single one, keeping them locked in a small wooden box under your bed, and every week when new flowers would arrive, you'd cut a few off from your last bouquet, pressing them in books to also savor. You had interrogated every single person in the mansion about these mystery flowers, but to no avail, no one would confess. You didn't mind though; while it was frustrating to not thank your secret admirer, you appreciated the gifts nonetheless.

“I just wish whoever was doing this would say something.” You exasperated. You were sprawled across your bed staring at the ceiling as Logan sat at your desk picking at his fingernails, something he only did when he was nervous. “Maybe they're scared?” Logan offered, and you flipped to your stomach, looking over to him, "Well, they need to nut up and just tell me, I'm starting to run out of books to press these damn things!” His eyes go wide hearing you've been saving the flowers sent to you, your brows furrowing in confusion at his reaction. “What?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, “N-nothing; I think Charles is calling for me.” He practically runs out of your room after that. 

You 100% knew Logan was the one sending you all these floral bouquets; he made it so painfully obvious, but you weren't going to say anything. Honestly, you wanted to see how long he could keep his little act up. How many more arrangements were you going to get before he finally fessed up? Your answer came 2 months later, when you received a bouquet. The note attached was just coordinates and a timestamp of 7:26 p.m. Punching them into your phone, it was a botanical garden just a couple miles away, a smile creeping onto your face as your cheeks flushed red.

You stood at the beginning of the path in the garden at 7:26 on the dot, your heart a jackhammer in your chest, your breaths shakey and laced with anxiety. It had to be Logan, but what if it wasn’t... Your thoughts were racing in your head, making you feel dizzy, your stomach tying into knots as your heels clicked down the path. Each step closer, you could feel your body tense up like cement was coursing through your veins, hardening with each passing second. 

Rounding a corner to the center of the garden, you spotted an oh so familiar face holding a bouquet of your absolute favorite flowers, the goofiest smile planted on his face when he saw you coming around. “I fucking knew it.” You whispered to yourself; Logan nervously laughed, of course hearing what you said. “Surprisee…” He drew out, opening his arms up to you, wasting no time. You ran over to him, being engulfed in his oh-so-large arms that you loved. “I just saw how happy you were receiving those roses from that kid; I couldn't help it; I love seeing your smile.” He bashfully admitted, and you smiled up at him, planting a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek in response.

“I wanted to tell you so many times, but I wanted it to be special, y'know, because you're special.” His face was burning red as he spoke, “I notice everything about you, from the way flowers make your heart skip a beat to the way you rebuke the societal norms of appointment times.”

"God, I hate that everything is set in 5 or 10 minute increments.” You sighed against his chest, shaking your head. He laughed just at your dramatics, “Exactly why I had you show up at 7:26.” 

The rest of your evening was spent admiring the garden and teaching Logan about every flower you both came across, and of course he listened to everything, absorbing every minute detail he could. If your words were gold, he'd dress himself in them every day; he'd tattoo every sound that escaped from your mouth. You were as precious as rubies to him, and god, he was never letting you go.

[stillmonsterz]

birds of a feather

this is part two to brave it together.

pairing: jay x reader, jake x reader genre: smut, angst, slight humor summary: after your eventful week, you assumed that life would go back to normal. instead, things only become even more complicated and tangled. your feelings for jay continue morphing, and his treatment of you only make you feel even more confused. as you attempt to balance your newfound social life, your complex intrapersonal relationships, and the mystery surrounding mina's suicide, you begin to wonder if there's anyone in the school you could trust. contains: unprotected sex, dubcon, drug usage, alcohol usage, manipulation, mentions of suicide, mentions of murder, infidelity, exhibitionism, name calling word count: 28.9k taglist: @moon7jay @ui11iane @bambangan @belowbun @sseobonggs

You were lying in Jay’s arms, and you were scared to make a sound. If you did, you felt as though he would remember you were there and tell you to leave. But right now, as his cheek rested on your bare shoulder, you didn’t want to go.

After you had gone to his room, you had drunk exactly one shot of the whiskey he had promised you before he was all over you again. You’d had sex twice more in his bedroom after your time on the roof. It was a blur to you, a hazy deluge of memories: being spanked, thrown around in whatever position he wanted you in, hands gripping you tight enough to leave an array of bruises more vibrant than the last set, kisses full of venom.

Jay clung to you after he came the third time, your back flush against his chest so that you were spooning. You basked in his attention, in the scent of Jay’s sweat mixed with his cologne.

You didn’t want to move your head, so you had a limited view of his room. In the dark, you could see his nightstand, whereupon a half-empty package of cigarettes, a box of condoms, some scattered books, and assorted jewelry lay. The condoms surprised you, because Jay hadn’t used any with you.The floor was messy, with clothes strewn haphazardly on the plush carpet. Some of those were yours. You could see band posters stuck all over, some you recognized and some you didn’t. The room was gradually becoming brighter, and you dimly realized that the sun was rising. Already? It was November, meaning that it had to be approaching morning-time. 

“Jay,” you muttered. He made a muffled noise and shifted, pressing his cheek against you. “Jay, it’s morning.”

“Mm…”

“I should go.”

Some part of you wanted him to tell you to stay, but instead Jay whispered, “One more round?” HIs hands started to caress your waist again.

You sighed. “No.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

Jay groaned and released you, sitting up in his bed. His hair was messy, and by the light filtering in through his curtains, you could see that you had left scratches on his back and shoulders. The cigarette mark you had made last night still lingered on his arm. “You’re still such a prude,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“What if someone catches us?” You sat up as well, mustering the urge to stand. Your legs were terribly sore, and when you tried to stand up they shook like a fawn’s. 

Jay watched you as you collected your clothes from the ground and put them on mechanically.  “You’re right,” he said in a strange voice. “It’s 7, so I doubt anyone in Stoker will be up anyways. If you take the back exit…down the back set of stairs…take a right…you should be fine.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, fumbling with the buttons of your jacket. All you’d had to eat yesterday was a samosa and three cigarettes, with scant sleep in between, and it was starting to take a toll on your body. The cold that had been brewing was starting to rear its ugly head, and you made a note to get your hands on some cough syrup. You were glad that you wore shoes you could slip into, because you doubted that you could be trusted to tie shoelaces.

Jay sighed and beckoned for you. “C’mere,” he said. “You’re so helpless. You’re like a newborn or something.”

You shuffled over to the bed, sitting on the edge. “You have sex with newborns often?” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Jay fixed your buttons for you, one by one. “Don’t get cute with me.” 

“Sorry.”

“And don’t be sarcastic, either. It doesn’t look good on you.” Jay squeezed your cheeks between his thumb and middle finger, pulling it this way and that as though to inspect your features. “You look like shit.”

“It’s been a long weekend,” you say dryly. 

“Hm.” Jay looked into your eyes for a few seconds too long before releasing you. “Well, get out of here. Don’t need Jake having a stroke because I’ve defiled his new white whale.” Jay chuckled, his usual smug expression returning. “On second thought, maybe you should stay. I could call Jakey, he could come over here, and I could show him just how good you are at taking my-,”

“Goodbye,” you said, pulling away from him and standing upright. Just the sound of Jake’s name made you feel odd. Not guilt, not shame, but another emotion you couldn’t place. Something nasty, something that felt like tar trickling down your throat. 

“Bye, little prude,” Jay said. “Oh, where are my manners?” He got out of bed, shivered at the cold, and opened the door for you. His eyes glittered with their usual spark of malice, and it made you wonder what he was going to do. You didn’t want to stick around to find out, so you nodded your head and took a step from his room. 

There was a tug at your jacket’s collar, and Jay whispered your name. You turned your head to meet his gaze once more. “Probably don’t have to tell you this,” he began, eyes trained on you,  “but don’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“Who would I tell?” you replied quietly. 

Jay smiled, his dimple adding an uncharacteristic boyishness to his otherwise chiseled face. “Good answer,” he said, “but that’s not a yes. Don’t tell anyone we fucked, alright?”

You looked down at the ground. For some reason, it still hadn’t sunk in that you had voluntarily slept with Jay. Several times, at that. 

“Look at me,” he said, and you lifted your head. “You won’t tell a soul?”

“I won’t,” you said softly. 

Jay nodded and let go of your jacket. “You’re so obedient,” he muttered. “You’ll make an excellent housewife someday.”

“Housewife? I don’t know if I want to get married.”

“Please. Nice, meek girls like you always end up barefoot and pregnant to some hulking idiot,” Jay said dismissively. “It’s a matter of when, not if.”

“What about you?” you asked.

Jay frowned. “What about me?” 

“Will you get married, have kids?”

A brief flash of hurt crossed Jay’s features, the first time you had ever seen it on his face. “Can’t have kids,” he said. “I shoot blanks.”

“Oh.”

“I had hypospadias as a baby. Got the surgery young, everything is fine, I’m just completely sterile. So I’ll never bear my parents an heir.” Jay said the last sentence in someone else’s voice, as though he were mimicking words another had said. 

“I’m sorry,” you said.

Jay snorted and scratched his arm. “Don’t be,” he said. “I can fuck like an animal and never get a bitch pregnant. It’s the best. So you don’t have to worry about having my kid…although I feel like you would look good pregnant.”

“Jay.”

“You’d gain weight in all the right places…yeah, I wouldn’t let you abort my kid,” Jay continued. “You’d be forced to bear little Jay junior, and like a good father I would pay child support and take the little shit to Disneyland once in a while. And he’d be like, ‘Daddy, daddy, I just got a b minus in math class!’ And I’d say, ‘Son, you’re going to learn that math matters little in the real world. Come, let me take you to Hooters, so that you can swim in the ocean with men, instead of wallowing in the kiddy pool of arithmetic.’”

“Little Jay junior wouldn’t be happy,” you said, smiling slightly. “How could he be happy when Daddy hates Mommy?”

Jay laughed, quietly enough so the sound didn’t resonate down the hallway. He leaned against the doorframe, holding his arm above his head. “Please. Daddies hate mommies all the time. It’s normal.”

You hesitated before whispering, “And do mommies hate daddies?”

Jay paused as well. One of his hands reached out slowly and gently rubbed at the corner of your lips. ”They should,” he murmured, flicking something away. “They should hate daddies. Mommies aren’t very smart sometimes.” Jay cleared his throat, pulling his hand away from you. “Now run along or I really will split you open in front of Jake.” 

Without another word, you took off down the hallway. The wide hallway alone reeked of decadence and dripped with pretension. There was no reason why a college dorm should have delicate china vases balancing on hardwood nightstands that lined the hallways, nor why the walls should have crown molding. What asshole had spent this much money on a college dorm?

As you crept towards the back staircase, you noticed that one of the dorm rooms had a sock on the doorknob. That seemed much more appropriate for a building populated largely by idiotic young men. You continued down the steps, to the right, and exited the building safely. 

Just before you left to head to Fawcett, you turned around. The lights were off in all of the rooms except for one, and if you shielded your eyes, you could see a dark figure inside. You wondered if it wasn’t Jay watching you. You thought about waving, but that would seem far too playful. You continued walking through the cold, back to your own dorm. 

–

After a weary shower in the communal bathroom and a long, long nap in your room, you decided that it might be time to actually get some schoolwork done. You had a group project that you hadn’t started, assignments in all of your classes, and you had to be at the library by four to start your shift there. 

You were ravenous, though. Damned if you saw Isa, or Riki, or whoever else. You were going to go to Fawcett and get yourself something to eat. You put some decent clothes on, pocketed some of the money Jay had given you, and went to the caf. Amazingly, no one was there. No one you knew, anyways. You got yourself a breakfast meal and tore into it. As you ate, you decided to text Isa. Yesterday had been too busy, too overwhelming to even think about talking to another soul. 

You: Sorry for the late message. I’m doing all right. Hope you’re okay.

Isa texted back so quickly, your head spun.

Isa: im doing great omg

Isa: no need to apologize!

Isa: are u okay though? :(((

Isa: jake told me jay was bothering you again :/ 

Isa: i talked to jay about it and he says he’ll stop

Isa: im so glad we’re talking again i missed him badddd

What?

You: You and Jay?

Isa: yupp 

Isa: he says hi btw

Isa: he’s with me rn

Isa: oh him and jake fought 

Isa: jake looks fuckedddd lol 

Isa: shouldn’t have fought w jay

Isa: he’s a psycho fr

Isa: i’ve always liked them a little crazy lmao

A chill ran through you, and the bite of food you had been chewing turned into ash. You swallowed it, nearly choking. Already? He had gone to Isa already? Mere hours after you two had fucked? And what did she mean by “my man”, when Jay had explicitly told you that they weren’t dating?

You recollected yourself and typed out a quick “see you at work” message to Isa. Why did you care so much? Things were going back to the way they had always been. Jay teased you, Isa was gorgeous, and they would make tender, sweet love while you twiddled your fucking thumbs and knitted sweaters. This was the way things had been for weeks, months, years. Why should they change now? It was obvious to you now. Jay had merely used you to get his rocks off, just another ploy in his juvenile game. In just a few days, he had erased months of harassment by showing you the barest modicum of kindness. Jay was right. You were pathetic. 

You forced yourself to eat the rest of your food, lest you faint from hunger. If Jay was going to return to his old self, so would you. You would withdraw into yourself once more and pretend like the past week had never happened.

–

You didn’t know why you still bothered making dramatic ultimatums like that. After your classes on Monday, which were such an unbearable slog that you almost wished Jay had pushed you off the roof, you trudged to your job at the library. 

When you got to the main desk, Jay and Isa were already there. It was revolting, seeing Jay lean in to give Isa a gentle kiss on the lips, far sweeter than any he had given you. Your face burned with indignation, but you swallowed it down. If there was anything you were good at, it was pretending not to have emotions. Sometimes you almost believed it.

Isa was wearing a baggy T-shirt, which you recognized as Jay’s Jane’s Addiction t-shirt, over a red-and-black plaid skirt with combat boots. It was a cute, punk look. 

“Isa,” you said with a slight wave. She turned to you and squealed, and any irritation you held towards her washed away. 

“I was so worried about you,” Isa wailed, rushing forward to give you a hug. You hugged her back stiffly, patting her back. “How are you feeling?”

“A little sick,” you said quietly. “The weather.” She smelled like Jay’s cologne. 

“Stupid Jake and his golf cart,” Isa mumbled. 

“Golf cart? He had my golf cart?” Jay’s voice was incredulous, and you tried not to focus on the way his thumb was hooked through the belt loops on Isa’s skirt. 

“Yeah, he drove us to Yeonjun’s in it,” Isa said, turning to look at Jay with shimmering eyes. 

“What the fuck? That was mine,” Jay said. “I was wondering why it was missing. What the fuck is his problem?” 

“I didn’t know you played golf.”

“I do a lot of things you don’t know about.”

Isa danced her fingers up Jay’s chest. “Maybe you could show me some of those things.”

Jesus. You walked past Isa and stood behind the main desk, picking up the list of tasks. The words swam in front of your eyes, and you blinked several times to clear up the dizziness. “I’m going to contact the clubs,” you said weakly. The library regularly booked spaces for different clubs, and you were in charge of corresponding with them. Sometimes you wondered exactly what the morning library staff did. 

Isa nodded at you. “Jay’s gonna help me shelve the books,” she said, gripping the front of his shirt. “Aren’t you?” She pouted at him. 

“Whatever,” Jay said. You kept your head bowed as you settled into the swivel chair, booting up the computer. Their footsteps faded, and you snuck one look at their retreating figures. Just like last week, you observed that they did look good together. 

The minutes passed by without you realizing it. You were grateful for the routine: help people with stupid questions, check out books, place holds. Sometimes you would hear Isa’s giggle and your heart would clench. As you worked at the desk, a shadow covered your workspace. Assuming that it was a student, you said, “Can I help you?” before you looked up.

“Yeah, I’m supposed to get someone a smoothie, but she doesn’t stop working,” a familiar voice said. Jake stood in front of you, both hands drumming on the desk. His eye was still swollen, his eyelids painted a harsh, glossy purple. His smile only served to showcase his split lip, and his hair fell into his eyes as usual. 

“Jake,” you said. “I don’t get off for another ten minutes.” 

“I figured,” he said, scratching the back of his neck. “But I wanted to see you before then. You aren’t busy, are you?”

“Incredibly busy. Can’t you see I’m being swarmed by people?”

Jake laughed, so you let out a soft chuckle too. If only he didn’t have feelings for you. If only he wasn’t in the Karma Club. If only he hadn’t potentially driven a girl to suicide, or worse. 

“Anything I can help with?” he asked, resting his arms on the desk and propping his chin on his sleeves. Now that he was eye-level with you, you could study his features closely. Despite his injuries, Jake was still really cute. 

“Don’t think so,” you said. “Hardest thing to do is reshelving, and Isa and Jay are doing that.”

Jake furrowed his eyebrows at the sound of Jay’s name. “So they’re back together?”

“I guess.”

“That’s a surprise, considering how much Jay bitches about Isa. Then again, what doesn’t Jay bitch about? He’d whine about a fountain of gold if he could. And he’s helping her do something? Seriously? Isa’s amazing.”

You must have looked pretty bad, because Jake’s face grew worried. “You all right?”

“Yeah,” you said. “Just a little sick. Hurricane and all.”

“The smoothie will be full of Vitamin C,” Jake said thoughtfully. “So that should help rejuvenate your system, boost your immune system. Oh, speaking of that, you mind if Sunghoon comes? He’s chill.”

Sunghoon? He was the one who had been there on that first fateful day of school, the one who had looked at you with such scorn. “Sure,” you said. “Hey, by the w-,”

Jake cut you off by plucking something off of your sweater; a little piece of yarn. “Sorry,” he said, flicking it away, “it was bothering me.”

“No problem,” you mumbled. It had been so natural, the way he had done that. You couldn’t imagine what it was like to just live without second-guessing your actions, your words. In that moment, you deeply envied Jake. 

His soft eyes met with yours again. “How come you always wear those big sweaters, anyways?”

“They’re comfortable,” you said.

“Seems a little hot,” Jake said. “I mean, you’re even wearing a turtleneck under there.”

You couldn’t exactly tell him that you were trying to hide the hickeys Jay had given you, so you muttered, “It’s winter soon.”

“I guess,” Jake said. He didn’t sound entirely convinced, but he dropped it. 

“I’ll meet you at Stopkewich,” you said, adjusting the collar of your sweater. “Just have to finish up here.”

“Sure, sure,” Jake said, grinning widely. “See you.”

For some reason, you wanted to feel normal, like everyone else. You reached out and grabbed the cuff of his flannel’s sleeve. Jake looked at you expectantly. “What is it, Wednesday?”

You grasped for words before finally mustering up a quiet, “Thanks for coming to see me.”

To your surprise, and slight confusion, Jake grew bashful, looking down at the ground. “Aw, it was no big deal. It’s fun seeing you…seeing you in the zone, y’know?” 

You let go of his sleeve, pleased at your success. It was really that easy? “Thank you anyways,” you said. 

Jake waved at you, licking his busted lip as he walked backwards. “See you in five,” he said before accidentally knocking into a display of pamphlets. He glanced around him before walking away quickly, heading out the doors. Cute. 

“Ooh,” Isa said. You hadn’t even realized that she had returned, but when you looked away from the exit you saw Isa and Jay standing around the desk. “You and Jake, huh?”

“I didn’t realize Jake liked her,” Jay said, his eyes fixed on Isa. You had resented his cold gaze for a long time, but you disliked his indifference more. 

“Oh, they were so close at Yeonjun’s,” Isa said, clasping her hands together. “They were dancing together, and when she went to lie down, Jake went in after her. He didn’t come out for a while…” 

“Is that so?” Jay asked coolly. 

“Yeah,” you said, looking directly at Isa. “We just talked, though.”

Isa looked disappointed. “That’s it?”

You shrugged. “That’s all.” 

“Well, I support it,” Isa said, regaining steam. “Maybe we could go on double dates.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Jay said quickly. “Jake’s a pussy. He’d never ask her out.”

“I mean…” Isa’s voice turned sly, and she playfully poked your arm. “They’re already going out for smoothies today, right?”

“Yeah. That’s why Jake came here,” you said, “he wanted to see me before we went…”

Isa clapped her hands together and pushed Jay. “Oh, so cute. If you guys got together, wouldn’t he be your first boyfriend?”

Scary how Isa already knew you had no experience, but you figured it was glaringly apparent. “He would be.”

“So cute,” she repeated. “You can go ahead and leave early. I’ll finish up around here.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Isa said fiercely. “You go get your man.”

You smiled at Isa, getting to your feet. “You’re so sweet,” you said.

“Just don’t forget to invite me to the wedding,” she said with a laugh. You walked out of the library without casting another glance in Jay’s direction. You didn’t know what his game was, but you didn’t care. If your life wouldn’t return to normal, then you would at least try to get a smoothie out of the deal. 

–

Jake and Sunghoon were lingering just outside of Stopkewich. It was fascinating, seeing the effect that they had on people; swathes of students and even some members of the faculty gave them such a wide berth that one could think there was a bubble surrounding them. 

You waved at Jake when you got closer, and Jake smiled and trotted up to you. Sunghoon followed, pale hands in his pockets. 

“Hey,” Jake said. “Jay didn’t bother you today, right?”

You shook your head. 

“Great. Great, good. Probably doesn’t want another fight,” Jake said, looking away. 

“Yeah, he doesn’t,” Sunghoon said, nudging Jake’s arm. He gave you an appraising look. It seemed that all members of the Karma Club had a way of analyzing people, breaking them into their basest components. 

“Fuck off, Hoon,” Jake mumbled. 

Sunghoon laughed and stuck out his hand. “Sunghoon Park.”

You took his hand and shook it. You introduced yourself, including your major. 

“Nice to meet you,” Sunghoon said, adjusting the cuffs of his blazer. “God, Heeseung hates you.”

“What?”

Jake shook his hands, glancing between you and Sunghoon. He laughed nervously. “Well, he doesn’t hate y-,”

“Two members in a fight,” Sunghoon continued, “our newest recruit living in Fawcett because he picked a fight with Jay about you, Sunoo poisoning the lacrosse team…”

You squinted. “That last one…”

“At this point, Heeseung’s sort of just blaming you for everything,” Sunghoon said with a shrug. “But the first two are your fault.”

“Hey,” Jake said, stepping in between the two of you. You hadn’t sensed any real malice coming from Sunghoon, so you weren’t sure why Jake was acting so skittish. “None of that is her fault. It’s not her fault Jay has a hate boner for her.”

Sunghoon put his hands up, relenting. “Hey, hey, I’m not blaming her. I’m just saying that Heeseung wants her head on a pike.”

“Then he should say so,” you said. 

Jake and Sunghoon both looked at you, with Sunghoon snorting as he attempted to stifle a laugh. “Pardon?” Sunghoon asked, pushing his glasses up. 

“Yeah,” you said. “Maybe we could talk. If I’m doing something wrong, I should fix it, right?”

Sunghoon let out a full laugh. “She’s got balls, huh, Jake?”

Jake groaned. “Let’s just go get a smoothie. Everything is always a federal fucking issue with the Karmas, I swear…” Jake started stalking over to the entrance of Stopkewich, with you and Sunghoon following behind.

“I hope that bitch isn’t there,” Sunghoon said, screwing up his nose. “I wanted a simple smoothie and she wouldn’t make it. She was all, ‘Um, I don’t do remixes on drinks!’ Uppity whore. Who calls a drink a remix? Cringe. I should fucking have this place demolished and turned into a Carl’s Jr. See how those vegans like it then.”

“Don’t pick a fight with the barista, Hoon.”

“I won’t if she makes my smoothie order the way I asked.”

“And what was that smoothie order, again?” Jake asked lightly. He looked back and gave you a small smile. You liked it. It made you feel like you were in on something.

“It was simple. Chia seeds, organic almond milk because regular milk fucks with my skin’s barrier, camu camu powder - from the Amazon, it’s the best there - red algae for my complexion, goji berries, spinach, and maca powder. Like it wasn’t a very tall order but this uppity- oh fuck, there she is.” Sunghoon jerked his thumb at Lily and groaned. “God fucking dammit.”

“You’d better go ahead first,” Jake said. “Sunghoon here has to decompress.”

“‘Uh, we don’t have any red algae,’” Sunghoon mocked. “‘Why would you want algae in a smoothie?’” 

You headed over to the counter, where Lily was currently using a pitter on the cherries. Her gloved hands were stained red. She glanced up at you briefly and smiled. “Hey,” she said brightly. “I thought you would have abandoned me.”

“No way. How could I do that?” You settled into a booth and scoured the menu. You figured you’d just have whatever she gave you.

Lily tossed another cherry pit into a bowl. “Well, I saw that you were partying with the KC…”

You blinked. “How did you see that?”

“Oh, I follow what’s-her-name on Instagram…Isa? She posted a picture of you guys on her story. I didn’t know you were so popular.”

“Neither did I,” you mumbled. “What’s on the menu today?”

Lily smiled and held up the cherries. “Funny you should ask. I’ve just gotten the last ingredient for my newest idea. So it’s going to be cherries, banana, chia seeds, almond butter, almond milk…”

“So far so good.”

“Stinging nettle.”

“Lily…”

Lily procured a baggie from her apron’s pocket and shook it. “What? It’s perfectly safe! It’s not like it-,”

“Well, well, well,” a voice behind you said. Sunghoon snatched the stinging nettle from Lily’s hands and examined its contents.

“You,” she said, glaring at Sunghoon. “This is the guy who got mad at me because I don’t do remixes.”

“And here’s the girl who doesn’t do remixes.” He tapped the baggie with his index finger. “But, you know, I can’t help but notice that this…herb…isn’t on the menu. Yet here you are, about to put it into a drink that isn’t on the menu. Isn’t that crazy? Isn’t that crazy, Jake?”

“Leave me out of this,” Jake said. “Can I get the watermelon mint smoothie?”

“Coming right up,” Lily said through gritted teeth. “For your information, I was testing a recipe out, that’s why I have that.”

“Sure,” Sunghoon said, “sure. Or the more obvious answer, which is that you’re prejudiced against members of the KC.”

Lily gasped. “Not true!”  She peeled her old gloves off, got new ones, and started putting chunks of watermelon in the blender. 

Sunghoon shook the baggie even though Lily couldn’t see it. “Oh, it’s very true.”

“I’m making Jake a smoothie right now, he’s KC.”

“Jake is Australian, so you two probably have some sort of secret bond. He doesn’t count.”

“What the fuck,” Jake mumbled.

Lily scoffed. “And also for your information, I didn’t have the ingredients!”

Sunghoon shook the baggie again. “And why wasn’t your kitchen stocked with the basics?”

“Normally,” Lily said, tossing things into the blender, “people don’t ask for camu camu powder. Never gotten that request before.”

“You should buy more ingredients then,” Sunghoon said, putting the baggie on the counter. “You could offer a wider selection of drinks that have added health benefits.”

“And where am I supposed to get the extra money?” Lily turned the blender on. “No one knows we’re here, anyways. They’re considering replacing us with a Jamba Juice.”

“I’ll give you the ingredients,” Sunghoon yelled over the harsh noise.

“You want your weird smoothie that bad?” Lily asked, holding onto the top of the blender. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

“You know what?” Lily pointed at Sunghoon. “I can respect a guy who wants a weird smoothie.”

Sunghoon smiled. “Thank you! Thank you! That pauper over there doesn’t get it.”

“What the fuck,” Jake whispered to himself. 

“Sorry for being so rude,” Sunghoon said, projecting his voice. “I really did think you were being a bitch for no reason.”

Lily turned the blender off and poured Jake’s smoothie into a glass jar, carefully affixing a little red gingham bow around its neck. “Thanks for the apology,” she said, pushing the smoothie over to Jake. She looked at you next. “Did you want the stinging nettle and cherry smoothie?”

“Yeah, sure,” you said. 

Jake sipped on his smoothie through the straw. “Oh, this is good,” he said, holding the jar out to you. “Try a sip.”

You’d had this flavour before, but you took a sip anyway. “Lily is great,” you said, “that’s why I always come here.”

Sunghoon remained quiet, pressing his hands on the counter, before saying, “Could I get one too, a stinging nettle and cherry smoothie?”

Lily smiled. “Of course!”

Sunghoon offered her a soft smile, his lips pressed tightly together. He watched her closely as she went about preparing the smoothies. Jake looked at you, and you looked at Jake. He mimed shooting himself in the head and you grinned.

After Lily finished making you and Sunghoon your drinks, you looked at her expectantly. “Could I get your phone number?” 

She looked at you in mild surprise. “Really? Yeah, sure. Pass your phone.”

You opened the phone up to your contacts and held it out to her. As she typed her number in, she smiled. “We should hang sometime.”

“Yeah,” you said. You had no intention of hanging out with her. You did plan to wheedle information out of her regarding Mina. Despite Riki telling you that no one knew about her suicide attempt in the bathroom, Lily had mentioned an attempted murder performed by the KC  in the school bathroom. Who could the victim have been, if not Mina? 

Lily handed you your phone back and grinned. Jake tapped his card on the reader, paying for your orders. “Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said. “I said I would.”

“I was just kidding about it at the party, you know.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to buy you smoothies,” Jake said. “Just let me try yours when it’s ready.”

Lily got to work preparing her newest mix, and you noticed that Sunghoon was staring at her with curious eyes. When he saw you looking at him, he cleared his throat and focused his attention on his wristwatch.  Strange, strange things were happening.

–

You got to your dorm room and started on your work. You were a scholarship student, so it was imperative that you kept your grades up. Which meant that you ended up ignoring the incessant knocking on your dorm door. Eventually, you heard the doorknob rattling violently. You pulled your headphones off and knocked on the door. “Who is it?”

“Open up,” Jay grumbled. “Don’t you answer your phone? I’ve been out here for like five minutes.” Sighing, you unlocked your door. Jay strided in, closing the door behind himself. He leaned against the door with his arms crossed and glanced around your room. “What were you doing, homework?”

“Yeah.”

“Of course you are,” he said. 

“You don’t study?”

“Why would I do that?”

You let out a frustrated huff of breath. “What do you want, Jay?”

“‘What do you want, Jay?’” he mocked. A familiar scene was stretching out in front of you. “I want more of what I got yesterday, but you were busy hanging around dickless.”

You leaned against the wall. “Dickless? Who, Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“I won’t stop,” you said. “You don’t own me, and we’re not dating.”

Jay barked out a laugh. “Oh, wow. Since when do you talk back?”

“Around when you threatened to kill me.”

Jay’s eyes were chunks of obsidian glinting in the afternoon sun. “You know I was just playing around, right? I wasn’t actually going to kill you. I’m not a psycho. I just wanted…”

Suddenly, the room seemed stiflingly warm. Your voice was even quieter than usual. “Wanted what?”

“I wanted…” Jay pushed his hair out of his face and licked his lips, looking around your room. “I wanted to see you do something besides stand around looking at me like you’re…like there’s nothing inside of you. Just an automaton pretending to be a human, just taking everything, passive, nothing, boring.”

“Well,” you said flatly, “am I acting like a human now?”

Jay cracked a grin. “A little. You’re blossoming under my tutelage. With a little more training…” Jay reached his hand out towards you.

You smacked his hand away lightly. “Training?”

“Yeah,” he said, taking your hand in his, “you could end up becoming a real human.”

“Like you?”

His smile grew wider. “Nah, you could never be like me.”

“Thank God.”

Jay laughed, and you had to admit that you didn’t hate the sound. “See what I mean? You’re coming along nicely.”

“You’re not responsible for my personality,” you said.

“Who, if not me? Jake?”

“No, no one is. What is with you and Jake?”

“I could ask you the same question, you and your filthy fixation with him.”

“There is no fixation,” you said, frustration nipping at your voice. “He’s just nice to me.”

Jay pulled you towards him with the hand holding yours. “I’m nice to you, aren’t I?” His other hand came to grab your chin, forcing your head up. “I’m so nice to you,” he murmured. “You don’t even appreciate it.” He leaned in and kissed you in that same smothering manner as before, his mouth hot and wet. As though you were being controlled by outside forces, you kissed him back. Your arms still hung limply against your side. 

Jay pulled away and tugged your turtleneck’s collar down, exposing the hickeys he had given you. “Wish you didn’t dress like a nun,” he said. “You could show these off.”

You turned your head, staring down at your floor. “What about Isa, Jay? You two are together.”

Jay groaned. “Don’t worry about her. Fuck, you always bring her up.”

You looked back at him. “Why shouldn’t I? She really likes you.”

“Her mistake,” Jay replied, a sneer on his face. His hand reached out to caress the back of your head. “I told you she doesn’t matter to me.”

“And who does?”

Jay didn’t answer at first. Instead, he spun you around so that you were pressed against the door. He kissed you with the same ferocity, hands clutching your shoulders. “Don’t talk about Isa,” he said hoarsely.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you said, a weak appeal. 

Jay groaned. “Fine. Let’s play a game, then. It’s really simple. You wanna hear the rules?”

“Fine.”

His hand hiked your skirt up, all the way to your waist. The other hand rested on your thigh, dangerously close to your underwear. “If I check and you’re wet, I get to fuck you. If you’re not wet, I’ll leave you alone and go weave baskets and pick daisies with Isa. Deal?”

You nodded. “Sure,” you said, as though he wouldn’t be able to feel the moisture pooling between your legs. Maybe he wouldn’t feel anything through a stroke of sheer luck. Jay slipped two of his fingers inside of your panties, and you winced as you heard a squelching noise.

“Look at that. You’re wet,” Jay said in an accusatory voice. Jay dragged his fingers along your labial lips, smearing your arousal. He didn’t plunge his fingers into your desperate pussy, nor did he touch your clitoris. Judging by his smile, he relished in withholding pleasure from you. “You’re soaking wet just from a few kisses. You couldn’t be more pathetic if you tried.”

The constant teasing at relief was driving you mad. “Just fuck me.”

Jay let out a breathy laugh. “Look at you, getting so bold. Just listen to yourself.” He didn’t allow you any time to reflect on his statement, working on tugging your panties and skirt all the way down. You stepped out of them, kicking them to the side. 

“You haven’t changed me,” you said, eyebrows glowering in defiance. 

“You’ll see,” Jay replied. You closed your eyes so you could hear the rattle of his belt buckle as it clicked, the sound of his jeans sliding to the floor, his soft grunts.  

Jay lifted your leg up and pounded you, your back pressed against the door. It creaked loudly enough that you figured that someone would hear, but Fawcett was a loud dorm. “Pussy’s so good,” Jay whispered through gritted teeth, leaning his head back. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Thought I would have fucked you loose by now.” 

It was almost more than you could handle, considering only a mere 12 hours had passed since the last time. But you were already growing to love how Jay felt inside of you, the aggressive way he snapped his hips, the shapes of the bruises he left on your arms. You clamped your hand over your mouth so your moans would be muffled. Jay had a similar idea, biting his lip and only letting out faint grunts. He lifted your other leg up, utilizing strength you didn’t know he had to fuck into you while he was standing. Your arms hung around his neck.

You wrapped your legs around him, and he carried you away from the door and onto the bed. By now, you had noticed that Jay liked to alternate between fucking into you rapidly and employing hard, somewhat slower strokes. The shift was dizzying; your nails dug into his shirt, leaving miniscule holes behind in the fabric. 

After Jay came, he remained on top of you, his limp cock lying on your thigh. He pushed himself off and crawled to the side of the bed facing the window. 

You rolled away from Jay, reaching into your nightstand’s drawer. You pulled out your pack of cigarettes and took one out.

“Give me one,” he called from behind you.

“Sure. Open the window for me.” Jay lifted the window upwards, and chilly air wafted into the room. You tucked yourself under your blanket, scooted towards the window, and lit your cigarettes. You handed one to Jay and placed your own between your lips. Your dorm room faced the woods, so you generally didn’t see people come around. On nights when the weather was bad and you couldn’t go up to the roof, you liked to open the window and smoke, listening to the rain. 

Jay sat upright, smoking his own cigarette. His eyebrows were knit in concentration. 

Your phone buzzed on your desk, so you clambered to your feet. You opened the text as you headed to your bed.

Riki: help

Riki: my girlfriend is trying out her makeup on me :/ 

Riki: *sent 1 picture*

Riki: i kinda fw it tbqh

You: You look very pretty.

Riki: thank u

You: You have a girlfriend?

Riki: o yeah

Riki: don’t tell anyone lmao 

Riki: it’s a secret like not even jake knows

Riki: i don’t want her getting mina’d

Riki: or you’d

Riki: no offense 

You: None taken.

Riki: 👍

Riki: lowk i’m considering using some bb cream now

Riki: could be a good look for me

You: Go talk to your girlfriend or something. I’m busy.

Riki: busy my ass

Riki: and my gf is on her phone looking at tiktok pranks to torture me with

You: You deserve the misery.

Riki: fuck u 🖕

Riki: betrayal can never come from your opps ig

“Who are you texting?” Jay asked. “I didn’t know you had friends.”

“Riki,” you said, turning your phone off. 

“Riki? You’re friends with Riki?” Jay looked incredulous, his cigarette hanging from his lips. 

You shrugged, holding your cigarette between your lips as you laid back down on your bed. It was a no-smoking building, but a part of you just couldn’t be bothered anymore. “Well, ‘friends’ is a strong word. We’ve known each other for a few days. He just texts a lot.” 

Jay took another long drag, blowing it out of the window. “You guys are around the same age, right?”

“Yeah, same year.”

“Hm.” Jay turned to look at you. “Have you met any other Karmas?”

“Sunghoon, Jungwon briefly…that’s it.” You breathed out more smoke. “Heeseung hates me, apparently.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jay said, “Ha. Yeah, he doesn’t like you. Thinks you’re tearing us apart.”

“But I’m not.”

“Yeah, I know that, and you know that, and even Heeseung knows that. I think it’s because he can’t exhume Mina’s dead body and yell at her for corrupting poor little Jakey, so you’re the next best thing.”

Your eyes were focused on Jay now, on his hunched back, on his serious brows. “You think Mina’s dead?”

“Dropped out of school, disappeared off the face of the earth, her friends all left her behind…she’s probably dead, yeah.” After a moment, he said, “Do I sound terrible?”

You shrugged. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

Jay smiled again. “I guess so.” He waved his cigarette, now only a smouldering nub. “Where can I put this out? On you again?” 

You reached under your bed and pulled out a small ceramic dish, already scattered with cigarette butts. “Use this.”

He stubbed his cigarette out. “Thanks. See you tomorrow.”

You gave him a quick little nod and watched him zip his pants up, put his belt back on, smooth out his hair. Without another word, he left your room. 

–

You decided to call Lily rather than texting her. You had found, through texting with Riki, that you largely preferred talking out loud. Pacing around the room, you waited for her to pick up. 

“Hey,” she said, her voice sounding lighter than usual. 

“Hi. I had to ask you a question.”

“Sure, anything.”

You tried to invoke the same nonchalant tone you normally used, but you found that it was strangely difficult. “Last week, you told me that the Karma Club nearly killed a girl in the bathroom…”

“Oh,” she said. “That was just a silly rumour…groundless…” Lily’s voice faded as she spoke, almost sheepishly.

“Do you know who told you?”

“Why do you ask?”

You already had a lie for this. “You know how Jake brought me that smoothie?” 

Lily’s voice immediately took on interest, and you marveled at how similar she was to Isa. “Yeah…?”

“Well, the thing is, he told me he likes me…”

Lily shrieked. “Aw, that is so cute. Jake is like the nicest - well, you know, there are a few nice ones in the KC, but he’s really nice. That is just adorable, oh my god.”

“Don’t tell anyone I told you,” you added.

 “Not a word out of me. So do you guys have, like, a thing?”

“Well, I don’t know. I don’t want to pursue anything before I know he’s good,” you lied, scratching your head. “You know how cautious I am.”

“Oh, I get it, I get it,” Lily said. “Sure. I think I heard that from this girl named Nina? She’s a year below me. She’s Aussie, which is how I know her…She’s nice. If you have any questions about him, you should ask her. She runs the girl’s gaming club. You know where that is?”

“No.”

“Oh. It’s held in Nakashima’s common room. You can probably find out when they meet from the school website.”

“Thanks, Lily.” You paused, figuring that you had to ask her something. So you didn’t seem suspicious. “So…stinging nettle. Why?”

“Fun fact, actually. Stinging nettle is a galactagogue!”

“What’s a galactagogue?”

“Uh, increases breast milk production.”

“I’m going to hang up on you now, Lily.”

Lily laughed, and you did too. “Hey, you wanna hang out sometime? Like, for real?”

Out of anyone in the school, you would prefer to hang out with Lily the most. You desperately hoped that she didn’t get involved in the Karma Club. “What would we do?”

“I haven’t gone to see a movie in a while. You?”

“I pirate everything, so no.”

“Sooo…” You could practically hear Lily creeping towards you with a silly smile pasted on her face. “We should see one together. Something scary.”

“Sounds good. Text me when you’re free.”

“Great! Have a good night.”

“You too, Lily.” You hung up on her and your smile fell. The true reason for your call dawned on you once more, and now you had to do some research. First, you Googled the word you had been dreading: naloxone. Jay had mentioned watching the paramedics administer it to Mina when she had overdosed. When you searched it up, you found that it was an opioid antagonist. In the case of anti-psychotic overdose, particularly Seroquel, activated charcoal was used as treatment. So either Jay had misremembered, Jay had lied, or Jay didn’t know.

Why would Jay lie about that? But then, it was Jay. Nothing he did made sense. You couldn’t go to Riki for help, either, because he didn’t know what Mina had overdosed on. Jake hadn’t even mentioned Mina’s suicide, so he definitely couldn’t help you. None of the three had mentioned opioids. It was a dead end. 

You moved on to finding out when the gaming club met next: That Friday at 6 pm. Anyone could come, apparently. Perfect. You wondered if Jay liked gaming. 

At any rate, you had exhausted your meager resources. All you could do now was wait for Friday. 

– 

The week passed by largely the same way. You would wake up to a barrage of texts from Riki and Lily, tiredly answer them, and trudge to class. Then you would go to the library, watch Isa coo over Jay while he ignored you, and get picked up by Jake to get a smoothie from Stopkewich. Sunghoon notably only showed up when Lily had a shift there and did nothing but stare at her adoringly. You and Jake would make eye contact every time Sunghoon smiled at her, mimicking his lovesick expression. Jake’s eye healed well, and his face became less painful to look at for more than one reason. The more time you spent with Jake, trying each other’s drinks, the more you realized that you didn’t mind him. 

After talking to Jake, you would go to your room, try to do homework, and answer the knock at the door. Jay would come in, you would protest for the sake of doing so, and then you’d fuck. He stayed for longer and longer every time, his scent beginning to permeate your bed already, down to the mattress. You wouldn’t talk very much, which suited you just fine. You’d just stare at the ceiling. Occasionally, he would complain about something Riki or Jungwon did. He never brought up Jake or Isa, so neither did you.

On Thursday, you were both lying in your bed, naked. You were draped in your quilt while he blew cigarette smoke to the ceiling. 

“You’re not cold?” you asked, forgoing smoking your own cigarette for today. You didn’t feel like it, for some reason. When you smacked your lips together, you could taste the strawberry banana smoothie one of the other barista’s had made on your lips. Jay had commented on it when he kissed you, saying that you tasted sweet. 

“I don’t get cold that easily,” Jay said. 

“Oh.”

“If you want me to join you under there, just say so.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

Jay shrugged. “Closed mouths don’t get fed.” 

“Implying that you’re a necessity?”

“Some could say that, yeah.” 

“Some could be mentally ill.”

“Like you’re so sane,” Jay said, jabbing his cigarette in your direction. “Sunoo could fix your ass up nicely. He might end up giving you diarrhea, though. It’s a mixed bag with him. Still worth a shot, though.”

Sunoo…why hadn’t you considered him?

You pulled your phone from the nightstand and opened it up. 

You: Riki.

Riki: hey

Riki: you finally changed your mind about cliffside laser tag?

You: No.

Riki: then there’s no reason for you to text me

You: I need to know which room Sunoo is in.

Riki: why lol

You: Decided to develop a drug dependency

Riki: nooooo you have so much life to live

Riki: noooooooooo don’t do it

Riki: well

Riki: that covers my ass 

Riki: you can’t get mad at me when your life falls apart

Riki: he’s in room 24

Riki: i’m in 22 by the way

Riki: in case you ever change your mind about the slap jenga tournament

You: I won’t.

Riki: i never liked you

You: Thanks for the help.

Riki: 🖕

Riki: seriously though be careful

You: I’ll be okay.

Riki: you’d better

“Texting Riki again?” Jay asked. His gaze danced suspiciously between your phone and your face. 

“Yeah.” You put your phone back on your nightstand. 

“About?”

You shrugged and leaned against the headboard, bringing your heavy quilt around your shoulders. “He wants to try cliffside laser tag in the dark.”

“And?”

“And what?”

Jay groaned. “Are you going to go?”

“Do I look stupid to you?”

“Well, I mean…”

“No.” You tried to ignore Jay’s snickers. “No, I didn’t even consider it.”

Jay leaned back as well, seeming somewhat mollified. “That kid is going to get himself killed doing something stupid one day. Or someone else, honestly.”

“Then he’d be a true member of the Karma Club,” you said jokingly. Jay’s jaw tightened, and the hairs on your arms raised. You hadn’t seen that angry look in his eyes in nearly a week. 

“Look. You might think,” he began, his voice as venomous as it had always been. You realized that you hadn’t even noticed that his voice had softened until now. “You might think that because we fuck that we’re close or something. We’re not. Joke about shit like that again and I swear to God, I’ll-,”

“You’ll what?”

Jay grabbed your shoulder, jostling the quilt covering you. His grip was tight, and his eyes sparked with anger. “I’ll make sure you end up just like Mina. How’s that?”

You swallowed, unable to speak. Your eyes were trained on his other hand, and you realized just how stupid you had been, allowing yourself to be lulled into this stupor by him. Jay still hated you. 

Jay let go of you and made a frustrated noise. “Fuck, fuck. Fuck, I hate it when you do that. Play mute.”

“I don’t have anything to say right now,” you replied. 

“I thought we made progress,” Jay said, putting his cigarette behind his ear. “You were really growing a spine there, making jokes, fighting back. You were starting to be a lot of fun.”

You stared at Jay, and the unfamiliar sensation of anger broiled in your stomach. “For someone who doesn’t believe that people can change,” you said slowly, “you sure are trying to change me.”

“That’s different,” Jay insisted, crawling out of your bed. He pulled his boxers up and fixed his shirt. “There’s a very interesting girl in you begging to be let out, and all you have to do is give in.”

Your eyes locked with his, the anger in his a mirror of your own. “You don’t know a thing about me.”

“I know enough,” Jay said slowly, tilting his head even closer. 

“No,” you whispered, “you don’t.”

Jay’s lips brushed yours, ever-so-slightly, his eyes never straying away from yours. “It’s like I said. It’s already inside you, and all you have to do is just…let her out.” His breath ghosted your lips once more before he briefly closed the gap.

–

Jay didn’t come to the library on Friday. 

“He got busy,” Isa said sadly, flicking away some lint off of her ripped sweater. “Family stuff.” The two of you were pasting barcodes on the backs of books, spreading the thin paper carefully to avoid ripples. You put a thin piece of plastic over top to protect the code. Easy, monotonous work.

“Oh.” Quickly, you added. “That sucks.”

“Yeah…he’s been so distant recently,” she continued, idly flipping through a new YA romance novel. “Ever since the party, or a little before then…can I be a little TMI?”

“Go for it,” you said. 

Isa put the book down carefully, and you could see her bottom lip tremble. Her eyes fell to the floor and her voice was a mere whisper. “He doesn’t touch me. Like, we’ve done some…stuff. And, you know, it was nice. But that was it. Nothing serious, you know? I mean, we’ve been talking on and off for a month, but he hasn’t initiated anything.”

Guilt filled your mouth with the bitter edge of bile. Isa reached for the sheet of codes before laying her hands flat on the table. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” she said. “I’m trying to be patient with him, but he doesn’t even open up to me.” 

You should come clean, admit that Jay had been fucking you, but you remembered that he told you not to utter a word to anyone. Isa might run behind your back and confront him, which would be disastrous for you. And, worst of all, a part of you felt a certain thrill at being the one he chose. In some capacity, he was picking you. 

Reality struck you once more. He wasn’t picking you. Isa was the one he had chosen to be his girlfriend, or at least the woman with whom he could be seen. You were the one he slept with, like a secret rotting away in a dusty attic. He hated you, no matter how he felt about Isa. 

Isa glanced at you, biting her lip, and you realized that you hadn’t said anything. “I’m sorry,” you said finally. 

She mustered up a small smile and shook her head, her red curls flicking back and forth like a flame. “It’s okay,” she replied. “Thanks for listening. I’d tell my friends but I’d feel pathetic telling them.” Her eyes widened. “Not that I don’t see you as a friend or anything…”

You smiled back at her, resting your hand on her shoulder. “I know what you meant.”

Isa patted your hand. “Thanks, pookie. You’re a good listener. We should hang out again soon. It was so fun when we watched Oldboy and Lady Vengeance.”

“Actually,” you said slowly, “Lily wanted to watch a movie with me. Do you know her?”

Isa brightened, seeming to regain some of her buoyancy. “Yeah, we were in second year philosophy together. Yeah, I know her. Oh, that’s great. I’ll make a group chat for us!” Then she bit her lip. “I wonder if she’ll want to hang with me, though?”

“Don’t worry,” you said. “Everyone does.”

–

Nakashima’s dorm was unlike the others. It was the newest, a tall, sleek, bauhaus white building with a gray stone path leading inside. To the left, obscured by a hill, was the school’s greenhouse. You would have liked to explore the inside, but it was normally staffed by at least 3 bleary-eyed, surly students, so you didn’t bother. 

As you walked inside, you marveled at the change in atmosphere. Your own dorm seemed carefree, Stopkewich had an airiness, and Stoker managed to avoid feeling stiflingly opulent with its small markers of humanity. Nakashima students all bustled around with their heads tucked low. The common room was on the second floor, so you took the translucent glass steps carefully. It was down a hallway lined with achievements garnered from previous Nakashima students. Self-fellatio was a skill honed into an art at Sadame University, it seemed. 

You never went inside of Fawcett’s common room, so you weren’t sure how it looked. Nakashima’s was lined with computers, expensive gaming chairs, and a vending machine in the corner. The main lights were turned off, so the glow from their keyboards and the purple LED strips lining the walls was what illuminated the space. 

The Nakashima girls in the common room dressed in the ubiquitous STEM student uniform of a hoodie and sweatpants or jeans. You had arrived early, but they were already logging onto the computers. A woman wearing a white Sadame sweatshirt who, based on your surveyal of the gaming club’s page, was Nina, hunched over a monitor as another woman sat in the chair. You waited for Nina to finish helping the other student before you approached her. 

“Are you Nina?” you asked quietly. 

Nina smiled at you. “That’s me! Are you here to join the gaming club?” 

“Ah…no, sorry,” you said, watching the smile falter on her face. “No, I’m here because of something else.”

She frowned. “Something else?” 

You nodded. 

“You wanna talk outside?” With another nod of your head, she ushered you out into the hallway and looked at you expectantly. 

“It’s just…a friend of mine told me that…you knew about what happened with that girl, Mina,” you said slowly. “And, I was wondering how you knew, because, um…”

“Because the Karma Club cover everything up,” Nina finished. 

“Right, that.”

“Because they’re a bunch of fucking assholes who treat everyone, especially women, like shit.”

“Yeah…”

Nina placed her hand on your shoulder. “Did they…hurt you?”

Now that was a question for the ages. “Yeah.”

Nina pursed her lips together and sighed. “Another one. Those bastards…look, there’s a group chat I know of. If you give me your Instagram-,”

“I don’t have one.”

“Really? How?”

You shrugged. 

“Well, go ahead and make one. I’ll give you mine…” Nina pulled a blue pen from her pocket, took the palm of your hand, and scribbled her Instagram’s handle on it. “So once you’ve made an account, DM me, and I’ll have you added.”

You stared at your palm. “What’s the group chat for?”

Nina capped the pen and tucked it behind her ear. “For victims of the Karma Creeps. It started shortly after Mina disappeared. Just make sure to keep it DL, okay? Those weirdos have eyes everywhere in this school, but I’m sure you already know that.”

Did you ever? “Thank you, Nina.”

“Also,” she added hastily, “don’t screenshot anything. We don’t need anything leaking, you know? It might seem really stringent, but we can’t let anything get back to them.”

“Makes sense,” you said softly. 

“I heard that they’re planning on compiling all the information, maybe trying to bring it to the local news,” she continued. “Again, don’t bring that up.”

“I won’t.”

Nina smiled at you. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get you some help.” 

When you walked away from her, you realized that she had never asked you for your name.

–

As you were walking back to the Fawcett campus, holding your palm face down, you got a call. It was Jay. For a second, you felt stricken by guilt, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. You answered the call. 

“Open the door,” Jay said, exasperated. “Seriously, I’m starting to feel stupid standing out here.”

“I’m not in my room.”

“Are you avoiding me?”

“No,” you said. “I had to talk to someone about a project.”

“You can do that literally any other time,” Jay said. He lowered his voice; from the background chatter, you could tell that people were walking in the hallway. “I need you right now. I had the shittiest day and Isa wants me to watch some braindead movie with her.” 

“Just have sex with Isa,” you said, your voice equally as quiet. 

Jay shifted. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“Then she’ll think I’m serious.”

“So why won’t you break up with her?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Jay said. 

“Right,” you replied dryly. “I could never hope to understand the complexities of your mind.”

“First of all, that wasn’t as cutting as you thought it was. Second of all, I think that was the longest sentence I’ve heard you say. So touching. Like seeing a dog learn how to use its legs again after a car accident. I could cry.”

“Then cry.”

“Just shut up and get over here,” Jay said. “I hate being in Fawcett too long.” 

You stopped, halting near a warehouse. Belatedly, you realized that it was the same building where you had seen Jay for the first time. The wall was plain, but for some reason you had expected to see a garish, red bloodstain. 

“Hello? You still there?”

“Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry,” you said. 

“Yeah, you’re a goody-two-shoes who thinks she’ll go to heaven if she gets good grades, it’s fine.”

“Not that. I’m sorry I said that yesterday. You know…” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he said gruffly. “You know me. The tiniest thing annoys me. Didn’t think about it after you said it.”

“Sorry anyways.”

Jay fell silent as well. Just as you had assumed that he had forgotten to hang up, he said, “Yeah, well. Me too. Now come here and show me how sorry you are.”

You smiled, just slightly. “Be there in 5.”

“Make it three.” 

“Not possible.”

“Well, come as soon as you can, then.” He hung up on you, and you walked just the slightest bit faster. Just enough that you could convince yourself that you hadn’t. 

Just before you got to your room, you wrote Nina’s username into your notes app. Then you licked your hand, smearing the letters until they were an incomprehensible blur.

–

After he fucked you, Jay sprawled onto your bed, as if attempting to take up as much room as possible. You were lying on top of his arm on his right side, too lazy to even get the quilt to cover yourself up. 

“God,” he breathed out. “I almost forgot about how shit today was.”

You stared up at the popcorn ceiling. “What happened?”

Jay scoffed. “You don’t give a shit.”

“You’re right, I don’t.”

Neither of you spoke for a full minute.

“Just…it’s Jake,” Jay said finally. “Can I get a smoke?”

You reached over to your cigarette package, realizing that you only had two left. You handed one to him and took one for yourself. “Need to get more.”

“Remind me to get some,” Jay said, gesturing for the lighter. He lit yours, then his, then handed the lighter back to you. “It’s Jake. He’s doing his ��wahh, wahh, everyone wants me to be the nice one’ routine. Saying that the pressure of having boyish good looks, good grades, and being rich is just too much for him.”

You reached below your bed to get your makeshift ashtray. “He seems normal to me.”

“Yeah, because if he knows if you saw him for the spineless dick he was, you wouldn’t want to fuck him anymore,” Jay said. 

“I don’t want to fuck him.”

“What? You don’t want Jakey in you?” Jay asked with a snicker.

You laughed quietly. “Not when you’ve already had him.”

“Fuck off,” Jay said, lightly pushing you. ”Even if Jake were the only hole left in the world, I’d never touch him.”

“A very convincing vindication of your heterosexuality.”

Rolling his eyes, Jay took a long drag. “I just don’t know. Everyone worships Jake, anyways. Even if people think he’s a dick, he’s still not as bad as the rest of us.”

“So what, do you wish people liked you?”

“No, God no,” Jay said. “I just wish I didn’t have to see Jake have a meltdown every month because he hates that everyone loves him. Or that he loves that everyone loves him, I can’t keep up with his shit.”

You blew smoke out of your mouth, closing your eyes. “This doesn’t seem like enough to constitute being a shitty day.”

“Oh, trust me,” Jay said. “It is. Heeseung shuts everything down to take care of Jake. Got a lecture from Heeseung…and then my parents called, nagging and shit…I have to go redo my statistics test…and then Isa wants to watch White Girls or Mean Chicks, something like that…and my dog wasn’t there when I needed her.”

“You have a dog?”

Jay smirked at you. “I do. She’s quiet, isn’t very well-trained yet, but I’m working on it. She’s very good at coming when I call for her, though.”

You turned away from him and took an annoyed little drag. “I’m not a dog.”

“What was that? All I heard was ‘woof woof woof’,” Jay said, reaching out and turning your head towards his. 

“Jay, y-,”

“Bark, bark, bark.”

“Jay.”

“Grrr.” 

“Shut up.” 

Pulling his cigarette out of his mouth, Jay blew smoke into your face gently. “Make me shut up.”

You had a feeling you knew where this was going. You reached over, placed your cigarette on the nightstand, and lowered your lips onto his. 

Jay broke the kiss, the tip of his nose still rubbing against yours. “Good doggy,” Jay whispered before leaning in to kiss you again.

– 

On Saturday, you had already steeled your nerves and decided to head into Stoker early in the morning. Jay had offhandedly mentioned that he hated getting out of bed before noon, and you could only pray that Jake wasn’t around. 

As you walked to Stoker, bundled in your coat, you noticed that something was different. A niggling feeling in the back of your neck. Trudging along the path, you heard a voice telling you slow down. You turned and saw a girl you had never once seen before, with bouncy brown curls. A group of people, presumably her friends, lingered a few meters away.

“Hey,” she said, voice bright and chirpy, “that skirt is so cute, oh my god. Where did you get it?”

You’d gone through this song and dance before. When you were younger, sometimes people would ask you where you had bought your shabby clothes, knowing fully well that you were too poor to buy them at full price. “Thrifted,” you said brusquely. 

“That is so cool,” she said. “Thrifting is so much fun. I can never find anything good, though.”

What were you supposed to say? “Oh.”

“Where do you go thrifting?”

“My hometown,” you said. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t go thrifting here, either,” she said. “Nothing good.”

You said that already, you thought. Instead, you said, “I guess.” 

“I’ve always loved your style,” she continued. “Whenever I see you, I’m like, oh, that is so grungecore.” 

“Thanks, but I have to meet someone,” you said, jerking your thumb at Stoker. 

“Oh, of course. Have a good one,” she said before waving and walking back towards her friends. What an earnest attempt at bullying. 

You walked into Stoker, wiping your shoes off on the plush welcome mat. To the right was the restaurant and dining area, so you glanced over. You could see Riki standing in line, checking his phone. 

You: Look at the doors. 

Riki lifted his head, saw you, and grinned. He waved you over, so you entered the dining area. The few people who were eating looked at you as you walked in, and you forced yourself to look straight at Riki. 

“Hey,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Sunoo,” you said. “Is he awake?”

Riki nodded. “Sunoo always gets up early.”

“How come you’re up?”

“I’m going to go to the gym early,” he explained. “My girlfriend wants to watch that new horror movie.”

“The one with the ghosts that can possess you if you’re the same zodiac sign as them?”

Riki grinned. “Fuck yeah.”

“Lily, Isa, and I are seeing that tonight,” you said. Isa had very neatly arranged it in the new group chat she had created. It was the first group chat you had ever been in, and even though you barely spoke while the pair planned the outing, it still felt nice to be included. 

Riki had been checking on his order, but his eyes widened in surprise. “What showing?”

“8:30 pm.”

He visibly relaxed, putting a hand over his heart. “Good. We’re going at 6.” You didn’t say that you had vetoed a potential 6 pm showing because that was when Jay would knock on your door. 

“No spoilers,” you said.

“Swear on my heart,” Riki said. 

“Good.” You stuffed your hands into your coat pocket. “By the way, I got bullied today.”

“Jay again?”

“No, some girl. She asked me where I got my skirt,” you explained. 

Riki stared at you, dumbfounded. “So she liked your skirt.”

“No,” you said. “Haven’t you ever had someone ask where you got your clothes, but it was meant in a…demeaning way?”

“No, generally guys will just say, ‘Your shirt is ugly and you get no hoes’,” Riki said, shaking his head. “Girls complicate things too much. She probably really did just like your skirt. It’s nice.”

You looked down. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I like your fashion sense.” 

“Thanks,” you said. “I’ll see you around, okay? You enjoy your…”

“Breakfast burrito,” Riki said. “I’m going to tear this shit up, hit the gym, pass out, beg Sunoo for an edible so I can watch that movie zooted, pass out again…”

“Good plan.” 

“The best,” Riki said. “See you later.”

–

You knocked on Sunoo’s door falteringly. You had never actually seen the guy, but the descriptions of him you had been given thus far were scary. You wondered if he were as tall as Riki, or imposing and muscular? 

The door opened, and a gentle face with plush cheeks and soft lips peered at you. Sunoo was wearing a baby-blue baseball tee with black accents. “Oh, hi.”

“Hi,” you said, caught off-guard. You introduced yourself. 

“Nice to meet you,” Sunoo said, sticking his hand out. You shook it, bewildered by his smile. “I’m Sunoo. Riki’s been talking about you.”

“Has he?”

“Mhm! He says he’s happy to have a friend his own age.”

“Well,” you said. “He’s a nice friend to have.” 

Sunoo beamed at you. “How sweet! Did you need something?”

“I was wondering if you had, uh…drugs?” You cursed yourself for sounding so amateurish.

If you had seemed inexperienced, Sunoo didn’t seem to mind. “I do,” he said. “What did you have in mind?”

“Uh, do you sell, uh, opioids?” 

Sunoo’s face fell. “No,” he said gravely. “I don’t. I haven’t carried opioids for a long time. No, only fun stuff here.”

“Fun stuff?”

“Yes,” Sunoo said with a giggle. “You want to try a little speed?”

“No…no Xanax?”

Sunoo shook his head. “Nope. No opioids and no benzodiazepines. I could give you a little K.”

Your head was starting to hurt. “What?”

“You know, put you in a K-hole. Experience ego death. It could be very enlightening,” Sunoo said earnestly. “Want some?”

“I’ll pass,” you said weakly. 

“You don’t have to be afraid,” Sunoo said. “You shouldn’t be afraid of ascension.”

Your parka was starting to feel too hot and Sunoo was starting to creep you out. “Sorry,” you said. “Not today. Have a nice day.”

As you walked away, you heard him call, “Don’t be afraid…”

You shivered as you re-entered the Stoker dining hall. You spotted Riki sitting down alone and headed towards him, sitting on the long bench in front of him. “How was it?” he asked through a muffled bite of breakfast burrito.

“He’s scary,” you said. 

Riki laughed, choking on his burrito. He covered his mouth as he caught his breath. “Yeah, that’s Sunoo for you. Did you get anything?”

You shook your head. “No. Got too spooked. I’m straight edge now.”

“Good,” Riki said. “It’s nothing to play around with.” 

You gestured for him to bring his burrito towards you, remembering the playful way he had taken a bite of your samosa last week. He reminded you of Lily, vaguely. You felt like you could try out being human around him. It was nice that he didn’t have any strong feelings for you. Riki held his food towards you and you took a bite. 

You swallowed. “I’ll be safe,” you said. 

“You better,” Riki said. “Listen, I know we’ve been friends for like, five minutes, but, well, you know... So I just wanted to let you know that if you, you know…ever need someone to… ah, this is so corny.”

“It is corny.” 

“Shut up,” Riki mumbled. 

“The same to you,” you said, a bit awkwardly. “If you ever, uh…”

“Thanks.” 

“Whatever.”

Riki held up his breakfast burrito; a lone bean toppled to the table. “Want another bite?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

–

There was a bus stop a few blocks away from the school. Isa, Lily, and you  all lived on-campus, and all of them were from out of town, so you took the bus to the movie theatre. Sitting on the cramped bench, squeezed in-between Lily and Isa, was enough to make your palms sweat. 

You had never had friends, save for ones in middle school who would guise their ridicule as teasing. They’d tell you that you had thin skin, that they teased you because it was so easy to get a reaction out of you. So you stopped giving them a reaction. Now, inexplicably, you waited for the shoe to drop.

Isa was dressed in an oversized sweater with tweed pants, her padded coat tossed over top. It was much more like the outfits you were used to seeing her wearing. Lily wore a baggy hoodie with a long skirt, an outfit similar to yours. Isa touched up her lip gloss while she waited for the bus to arrive. 

“This movie is going to be so ass,” she said, puckering her lips. “Can’t wait.”

“It has like a 20% on Rotten Tomatoes,” Lily replied. 

“That’s not too bad,” Isa said. “That’s like a ‘so bad it’s good’ rating.”

“I just hope it’s entertaining at least,” Lily said with a sigh. “If it won’t scare me, I want to at least laugh.”

“If it’s not funny, I’ll find the director myself,” you said dryly.

Lily laughed. “What would you do?”

“Can’t say,” you said. Isa snorted and nudged you with her elbow.

“Little vigilante,” Isa said. 

The bus arrived, you shakily dropped a few coins into the machine, and you were on. Then there was the matter of sitting. The scratchy, navy blue bus seats were arranged by twos. So Lily and Isa would sit together, and you would sit in the back. Or should you sit in the front while they sat in the back together? 

Isa sat down first, patting the seat next to her. “Come sit,” she said, beckoning you. You sat down beside her, folding your hands in your lap. So it was that easy. You caught a whiff of her perfume. 

“You smell good,” you said quietly. Was that creepy?

“Oh, thank you,” Isa said. “This is actually a sample I got from Marc Jacobs, Daisy Fresh.”

“Let me smell,” Lily said. Isa held her wrist behind her and Lily took a dramatic inhale. “That is really good. I wonder if I could put daisies in the smoothies…”

Isa wrinkled her nose. “Are daisies edible?”

“Chamomile is edible,” you said, “and those are daisies.”

“They are?”

“Not all daisies are chamomiles, but all chamomiles are daisies.”

Lily snapped her fingers. “Perfect. Chamomile smoothie next.”

“It could be like a sleepytime smoothie,” Isa suggested. “Lily’s Night Night Potion.”

“I like that,” Lily said approvingly. “I think chamomile is also a galactagogue.” 

“A what?”

“Increases milk flow,” Lily said.

Isa turned and gave you a little conspiratorial look. She swirled her finger around her head as if to say, “She’s crazy.” It made you feel special, the same way you did when Jake treated you like a friend. Like you were normal.

It dawned on you then, as you rode the bus with two people you could consider your friends, that this could all end. If Lily found out that the Mina thing had actually happened, she would be disgusted by Jake, Sunghoon, and your association with them. You could hardly imagine what Isa would do if she found out that Jay had been breaking your back every single day for a week. It was so fragile. The basis of your friendship with them was contingent on secrets.

You started to wonder if it was worth it to figure out the full truth about what happened to Mina. You were starting to wonder why you cared. 

As you watched the unsurprisingly mediocre film, sharing a full tub of popcorn between Lily and Isa, the phone containing Nina’s Instagram name burnt in your back pocket. Just a little longer. You would wait just a little longer to keep digging. 

–

On Sunday, as you sat on your bed getting some studying in, you heard knocking at your door. It was a bit later, around eight. Jay hadn’t come by that evening, so you figured that he wasn’t interested. A part of you felt sad, but a part of you wished that he would come by.

To both your glee and chagrin, it was Jay. You sat down on your bed in anticipation for whatever was to come. Jay locked the door behind himself and grinned at you. “How was the movie?”

“Bad.”

“Isa said it was really shit.” 

“She wasn’t lying.”

“Do you ever feel weird, working with her and talking to her while I’m…” Jay made an OK-sign and violently shoved his finger into it. 

Every day. “No, do you?”

“No. Anyways, Sunoo was talking and mentioned that you wanted to try getting high,” he said, sitting on your bed. He pulled a dime bag decorated with Hello Kitty stickers out of his pocket and dangled it in front of your face. “But you got scared. So I brought you a little gift.” He threw one leg over yours and rested against the headboard.

You looked at the baggie warily. “Is that…”

Jay smiled at you. “It is.”

“Isn’t cocaine…not a, uh, beginner drug? Isn’t it normally weed?”

Jay opened the bag and touched his pinky to the powder. He tasted it and nodded. “Please. You’ll be fine. I mean, middle schoolers do coke.”

“Do they?”

“Sure they do. C’mere.”

Reluctantly, you scooted closer to Jay, who promptly wrapped one arm around you. He held your chin with one hand, his arm hooked around your neck. 

“Now open wide,” he said. “I’ll rub it on your gums, the way you see in movies. You ever watch Scarface?”

“No?”

“Seriously? Well, it’ll be like that.”

You opened your mouth, just enough to accommodate a finger. He gently inserted his other pinky into your mouth and rubbed the cocaine directly onto your gums. You thought it would taste like talcum powder, but instead it was more like crushed up multivitamins. The taste was almost enough to make you gag. You were expecting to feel heart palpitations, nausea, and maybe a sneak peek at death at any second. You had bought some weed back in high school, dabbled with Xanax at your lowest, but nothing that felt this dangerous.

“You’ll be fine,” Jay said, as though he could read your mind. He continued rubbing the bitter powder over your gums. “It’ll feel really good. Promise.” 

Your lips grew cold and numb, and you clamped your mouth around Jay’s finger to test if you could feel something. No dice. Jay smiled and pulled his pinky away, sucking the tip of it. “Feels numb?”

You nodded and Jay laughed. “You can talk,” he said in an almost gentle tone. 

“It’s numb,” you said, pressing your fingers to your lips. “My gums are numb too.”

“Is it freaky?”

“A little,” you admitted. “Don’t like it.”

“You will,” Jay said. “Trust me. You sit tight over there, I’m gonna get myself started.” You watched as Jay used one of your textbook and a razor to cut neat little lines of cocaine. You wondered if the razor marks would be embedded into the hardcover. 

He snorted the lines, holding the bridge of his nose once he was done. “Fuck,” he said. “Always hurts...” Jay sat next to you again, wrapped his arm around you, and held you closely. His other hand rubbed your thigh in a languid motion. 

“I fucked a girl on ecstasy once,” Jay said, brushing his fingers against you gently. “We fucked for like three hours, and she loved every second.”

“Was it that good?” you asked. Normally, you figured you would feel that strange burning sensation in your chest at the mention of another woman, but it was absent this time. You tried to scoot the slightest bit closer to him without drawing his attention.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Rolling sex is different from coke sex. Rolling sex is like…I hate to sound pretentious or corny, but it really does feel spiritual sometimes. You feel so connected to the other person, like there’s something deeper at work. To me, sex on coke is more…raw.” As he said that last word, his hand slipped under your skirt. 

“It sounds fun,” you said. “Sex on ecstasy.” His subtle touch felt wonderful. It made you want to be bold again, so you ran your fingers along his jaw. It was so sharp, so perfectly sculpted. 

Jay laughed. “What, you wanna try it?” His hand was now caressing your bare upper thigh with long, slow strokes, his thumb just barely teasing the edge of your panties.

“We’d have to see if I like this first,” you whispered, dragging your index finger along his Adam’s apple. You felt the way it bobbed when he swallowed, the stiffness of the cartilage of his trachea. 

“Like what? Fucking me on coke?” Jay looked into your eyes and smiled in a lackadaisical manner you weren’t used to. 

“Yeah,” you said. You placed your thumb and middle finger against the sides of his throat, lightly pressing down. Its rigidity juxtaposed with its fragility fascinated you. It felt like you held his life in your hands. 

“Squeeze a little harder,” Jay said, heaviness sinking into his voice. 

You gripped his throat a little harder, and he let out a labored breath. “Fuck,” he whispered. “More.” 

You shifted yourself that you were straddling his lap. Your skirt had ridden up, bunched around your waist. Just the slight brush of his crotch against your clothed pussy was enough to make you gasp. both of your hands encircled his neck and you squeezed again. Jay let out a surprisingly loud moan, shivering underneath you. Normally, he muffled any sounds he made or merely gritted his teeth together.

“More,” Jay said, closing his eyes. “Harder, harder, harder.” 

Additional pressure on his neck made Jay cry out again. He rutted his crotch against yours, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. “More,” he said, sweat starting to form beads on his forehead. His lips were parted. “Harder.” 

You were starting to actually strangle him, but you didn’t care. Another squeeze and Jay groaned, involuntarily canting his hips into you again. “Fuck, fuck, stop.” He grabbed your hands and pulled them off of his neck. His eyes were bloodshot and his breathing was heavy. “Almost came…I almost came. Shit.” 

You remained straddling his lap, your mind hazed over by lust. You pulled your sweater off, tossing it to the side. Jay shook his head and laughed as he threw his shirt off. “God, we should fuck on E after all,” he said. “Get off real quick?”

You pulled yourself off of his body, struggling to take your dress off. Once you had disrobed, your underwear included, you turned back to Jay. He was undressed as well, tugging his Calvin Klein boxers down; his cock sprang free, reddened and hard, the tip already wet with precum.

“I can’t do foreplay today,” Jay said, his voice strained. “Need to fuck you now. You wet enough?” 

“Find out,” you said, as eager as him. 

Jay laughed breathlessly, holding his arms out. You crawled back onto his lap, sitting on his thigh, and his hands settled on your hips. “I can feel it,” he whispered. “You’re dripping all over me. Can’t wait to get inside you, shit. You ever ride dick?”

You squinted at him.

“Stupid question,” Jay said. “Okay, I’ll teach you how to ride dick.” He lifted you up, giving you just enough support. “Put your hands on my shoulders. Knees on either side of me.” He wriggled backwards so that he was leaning against the headboard again, and you followed his instructions.

“Good,” he said. “Now, you just…lower yourself down on it.” You bit your lip, marveling at the lack of sensation, and lifted your hips up with Jay’s help. Sinking down on his cock made you moan, deeper than you had ever done before. Jay hissed, your name slipping from his lips. You felt your walls expanding to envelop Jay’s cock, and you felt like screaming already.

Jay guided your hips up slowly before bringing you down on his length again. “That’s all,” he said. “Up and down.” With his hands loosely holding your hips, you tried it yourself, lowering yourself on his cock again. He let out a pornographic groan which only spurred you on. Once again, you took his dick. It felt like it was filling you, all the way to your guts. 

You developed a rhythm, working his cock the best you could. “That’s it,” Jay grunted, his nails digging into your flesh as he gripped your hips tighter. “Bounce on it, bounce on this dick. Like you’re my… little pornstar.” Normally, when Jay fucked you, you let him do whatever he want. It felt fine no matter what. But you liked this, being adventurous, like you were taking the lead. Testing a move you had seen in a porno a while ago, you tentatively swirled your pussy around his cock. Jay groaned and ground you down onto his lap, his balls slapping your ass. “Do that again,” he said. When you raised yourself up again, you performed the same motion. “Jesus.”

After a while, your thighs started to burn. “Hurts,” you said, slowing down. You felt disappointed that you couldn’t keep going, but apparently coke didn’t give you superpowers. 

With a speed you didn’t know he possessed, Jay pulled out of you and pushed you down onto the sheets. Rolling you over onto your stomach, he lifted your hips up. His hand cracked against your ass, and you yelped. “Gonna fuck you into the mattress,” he hissed. 

This wasn’t the first time he had taken you from behind, nor was it the first time he had been rough, but it still felt amazing. He pushed your head down, his hand lightly settling on your throat. With your face planted firmly inside your sheets, you rocked back onto his cock, trying to match his pace. Another hard slap landed on your ass. “Good bitch,” Jay said. 

As he slid his dick in and out of you, the wetness making obscene noises, Jay nibbled and sucked harshly on a small spot on your shoulder. He loved marking you, even though you never wore anything that would reveal the traces he left behind.

Jay pounded into you from behind, his hands crawling to your tummy. He moaned erratically, and when you looked behind you, you saw that his eyes were screwed shut. You collected the arousal dripping from your pussy and played with your clit. “Gonna cum,” Jay said, panting. “Cum for me.” 

You felt your orgasm building, hot and palpitating, and you moaned his name. You’d never done it before, and it made you feel self-conscious. Until Jay chanted your own name like a mantra, intermingled with loud curses. Just as your orgasm ripped through you, leaving you screaming and shaking, you felt Jay pull out of you. A cool substance splattered over your back, probably his cum. Exhausted, you dropped your hips onto the bed and groaned. Your pussy contracted while you tried to ride out your orgasm, your fingers still gently making circles on your tired clit before you felt calm enough to stop.

As you laid there, you realized that you hadn’t thought about Isa once. Normally, even when he was inside you, you wondered if he had done this with Isa, and if so, how many times, and who had made him cum more, and on and on. But you hadn’t compared yourself with her once. You had just enjoyed yourself. But now the reality crept on you, that you were fucking someone else’s man. You were a homewrecker, a cheater. If the old you could see you now, she would hate you.

Jay slapped your ass again, snapping you out of your reverie. “You good?”

Lifting your head up, you turned to face Jay. Sweat dripped down his face, and his torso was trembling. You nodded, but your face must have been unconvincing. 

“It’s the comedown,” Jay said. “It’s brutal the first time. You feel like shit now, right?”

“Sure, yeah,” you said shakily. “I do.”

“It’ll pass,” he said. “Come on, sit up.”

You crawled over to your headboard, feeling cold all of a sudden. Cold and empty. You thought Jay would put his arm around you, but all he did was rummage through your nightstand’s drawer for your smokes and lighter. He lit two and put one in between your lips. “It’ll help,” he murmured.

You took a long drag, shakily exhaling the smoke. 

“You should take a shower after this,” Jay said. “It’ll help you clear your head.”

“Okay.”

“It’s not nearly so bad,” Jay said. Then he chuckled. “I hope you enjoyed that. That’s the best high you’ll get.” His eyes were reflective, and he took a short, angry drag. 

“After this?”

“The old cliche. Now you’ll just try to chase this feeling,” he said. Clearing his throat, Jay reached for his boxers. “I gotta go. Gotta meet Sunghoon. You’ll be fine.” 

You blearily watched him get dressed. He hadn’t kissed you once. 

He left. You took a shower. 

It didn’t help. 

When you opened the door to your room, the scent of sex was so heady that you took a step back. Every time he fucked you, you felt full, until you felt hopelessly empty. Tears welled in your eyes, and you wiped them away angrily. It had been so long since you had cried properly. Now, you felt like a broken piece of china, nothing but sharp, jagged edges. 

You didn’t want to be alone right now, so you picked up your cell phone. Riki had said that you were friends, and friends helped each other, right?

“Riki?” you said, your throat hoarse. 

“Yeah?” he asked. “You good?”

“No,” you said quietly. “My, uh, my dog died.”

Riki fell silent. “Really?” 

“Yeah.”

“Shit,” he said, his voice growing somber. “I’m sorry.”

“He was my best friend,” you said. “I’m just…sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you, but…” 

“No, no, no,” Riki said. “No, Jesus, your dog died. It’s fine. You wanna meet up?” 

“Yes,” you said, almost too eagerly. “Sure.”

“Your room?”

“No, no…”

“Mine?” And potentially run into Jay? You’d pass. Just as you were about to decline, Riki said, “Jay’s out with Sunghoon right now, and Jake is studying, so you won’t run into them.”

Huh. So he wasn’t lying. “Sure, yeah. I’ll come over.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come to yours? You sound really messed up.”

“I’m positive,” you said, trying to sound neutral. You knew you were failing. 

–

Riki’s room was different than Jay’s in a good way. Movie posters lined his walls, and he had stuck random fast-food receipts to the walls. Clothes were thrown around haphazardly, even tossed onto his lamp. Riki was lying in bed, watching something on his laptop, but when he saw you he closed the screen and walked towards you. Without waiting for a word, he enveloped you in a hug.

It felt so good to touch someone who wasn’t involved in the stupid Jay-Isa-Jake conundrum. When you felt his arms wrap around you, you broke down into tears. It was embarrassing, falling apart in the embrace of someone you had effectively known for a few weeks. Still, Riki rubbed your back.

“I know how it is,” Riki murmured, patting your head. “If I lost bisco, I’d lose my mind. You guys were close?”

“Yeah,” you lied, allowing yourself to hug Riki back. “He was my only friend when I was younger.”

“Sorry,” he whispered. “You really must have loved him.” 

“Yeah,” you said. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a shuddering sob. “I think I did. And I feel stupid for it.”

Riki pulled away slightly, just so he could look at your face. “Why?”

“He’s…” you swallowed. “He was just a dog. I know that they have shorter lifespans than humans, and-and I knew that…it wouldn’t last. So why am I so upset?”

Riki pressed your head into his shoulder. “Because you’re human,” he said with a soft, not unkind, laugh. “You’re a human. It’s normal to love dogs, even if they have short lifespans. You can’t choose how you react to situations. It’d be great if you could, but you can’t.”

“I wish I could,” you said helplessly. “I wish I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Don’t say that,” Riki said. “You don’t mean that. You felt good when you were with your dog, right?”

“Yeah,” you said, tears still spilling onto Riki’s sweater. “Yeah, I did.”

“You wouldn’t get to feel that if you had no feelings. You can’t experience the highs without the lows and all that.”

You laughed despite yourself. “So wise.”

“I’m a fount of knowledge,” Riki said, patting your head again. “I keep telling you.”

You sniffled and a realization overtook you. You pulled away from Riki and he stepped back, surprised. “What is it?”

“You’re dating someone,” you said quietly. “Sorry, I forgot. I forgot you were…sorry.”

Riki grabbed your wrist, preventing you from leaving. “Hey. My girlfriend doesn’t own me, first of all. If anyone I date gets mad because I’m comforting a friend with a dead dog, then I wouldn’t date them. That’s fucked. Second of all…” Riki hesitated, pressing his thumb against your veins. “I think we’re done soon, anyways.”

“Really?”

Riki nodded, letting go of you. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I’m not….the best person, you know. So it’s sort of inevitable.”

“You don’t seem so bad to me,” you protested. “You aren’t as bad as Jay.”

Riki covered his mouth as he snickered. “If you have to use Jay as a benchmark…”

“Fair enough.”

Riki shrugged, kicking a stray sock around on his floor. 

“Well, you’re nice to me,” you said. 

That made Riki scoff. “Quit it. You sound like an orphan again. It’s not that hard to be nice to you, you know. I’m not a good person just because I don’t treat you like shit.”

You bit your lip, feeling admonished. Riki looked up at you and winced. “Look at me, being a dick to a girl with a dead dog. I told you I’m not nice.”

It was your turn to scoff, lightly hitting his arm. “Shut up.”

Riki chuckled. “What was his name?”

“Whose?”

“Your dog’s, dummy.”

Shit. Shit, shit, what was a name? “Mr. Wigglesworth,” you offered.

“Mr.? Did he have a first name?”

“Mr. was his first name.”

“That’s a really stupid name for a dog.”

“Well,” you said flatly. “He’s dead, so at least he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“All right, Wednesday, I was just joking.”

“So was I.”

With a shake of his head, Riki flopped back onto his bed. “You’re so difficult,” he said with a smile. “And very annoying.”

“You’re rubbing off on me,” you retorted. 

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s my birthday month. Be nice to me. Oh, shit, I didn’t invite you to the party yet.”

“Party?”

“Sunghoon’s birthday is on the 8th, and mine is on the 9th, so we’re going to have a joint party. It’ll start at 11 on the 8th and end…whenever it ends. It’ll be really fun. You should come. Well, no, you have to come. It’s an order from the birthday boy.”

You didn’t relish the thought of another party, but how could you refuse Riki after he had been so kind to you? “Yeah, of course. Where is it?”

“Heh. I won’t tell you. You’ll have to drive there with me,” Riki said.

“Oh. So I won’t need a password?”

“Nah,” Riki said. “If you want it, it’s ‘foreshadow’.”

“How cryptic,” you said. 

Riki smiled. “I try. Anyways, you want to watch Jujutsu Kaisen with me?”

“Never seen it.”

“Oh, you’re missing out,” he said, turning his tablet back on. 

“I bet.”

–

Jake texted you on Sunday night, asking you to meet up at Stoker’s cafeteria. You were starting to spend far too much time there for your liking. As you diligently walked over there, you felt the same feeling, like something was off. The clusters of people still dotting the fields glanced at you - that was it. People were looking at you. They never used to pay attention to you before, but now their eyes burnt holes into you. You were starting to become associated with the Karma Club, and you realized that that association would make joining the group chat even more difficult. You’d have to use a burner account, if you did join it. If.

Jake was sitting on one of the oak benches, two bagels in his hands. His black eye had faded into a yellow-green smear, and his lip had scarred over. “Hey,” he said, smiling at you. “I hope you like bagels.”

You took one of the bagels and sat down across from him. “Bagels at night?”

Jake shrugged. “Why not?”

“Why not, indeed?” You took a bite of it and wiped the crumbs from your lips. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he said slowly. “It’s just that I’m going away for my birthday. I’ll be gone for two weeks.”

“Two weeks for your birthday?”

“My parents are extra,” Jake said, tearing off a chunk of his bagel. “I’ll be back in time for Sunghoon and Riki’s birthday party, though. You going?”

“Riki forced my hand,” you said.

Jake grinned. “Attaboy. So, you know, if Jay does anything, just let me know. I hate that I’m leaving you alone with him for two weeks.”

“He hasn’t done anything to me in a while,” you said, your eyes drifting away from Jake’s face. 

“That’s good,” Jake said. “It’s just…you can never know with him. He’s so unpredictable. We had an argument a few days ago…” Jake popped another bite of bagel into his mouth.

“Argument?”

“I haven’t been doing very well,” Jake said quietly. Now it was his turn to avert his gaze; he picked at a thread on his large grey hoodie. “I’ve been doing shit recently. Nothing to do with you, just life. I, you know, I’ve always had problems, and sometimes I can deal with them. Control them, be the person my friends want me to be. But sometimes they get the best of me.”

“What do your friends want you to be?”

“Nice guy Jake.” Jake’s voice was bitter. “Everyone wants me to be that way. Can’t make a mistake. Can’t slip up. When someone else fucks up, it’s fine. It’s normal. But when I fuck up, it’s the end of the world. I’m the worst person alive.”

You nodded slowly, comparing his words with what Jay had told you. “I don’t think you’re the worst person alive.”

Jake chuckled, examining his bagel. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“You’ve been nice to me,” you continued. “So thank you. I know it must be weird…”

“It’s not weird at all,” Jake said. “It’s not weird for me, I swear. I fell for you really fast, I know. I don’t expect anything and I still don’t.” 

You didn’t know what else to say, and Jake fell silent too. “I love the Karma Club,” he said after a while, “but sometimes I feel like I’m losing myself, hanging around them all the time, always doing risky shit.”

“Maybe this will be good for you,” you said. “Your vacation, I mean.”

“Vacation,” Jake said vaguely. “Maybe it will. Thanks for letting me talk, Wednesday.”

“No problem,” you said. “Thanks for the bagel.”

“No problem.”

You smiled at Jake, and Jake smiled at you, and for a moment you wished that you could just like Jake. You could have a million nights like this, eating bagels together, talking, baring your souls. If you thought about it, it nearly sounded appealing.

“Happy early birthday,” you said after a while. 

“Thank you,” Jake said. 

The two of you ate your bagels in silence.

–

You spent the next three weeks as usual. This time, after your library shift, you, Isa, Sunghoon, and Riki would go to the smoothie shop. When Lily wasn’t working there, she would go as well, sitting next to Sunghoon and discussing different flavour pairings. You, Isa, and Riki would sit at a table, sipping your smoothie and talking. Isa treated Riki like a little brother, and it was fun to see them argue about nothing in particular. 

Jay still came into your room every evening. At some point, you could tell that he had started to derive some sort of pleasure in ignoring you at the library only to be intimate with you in private. When Isa wasn’t looking, he would give you a quick once-over, mouth obscenities at you, or even wink at you. 

He was staying for longer, now. Jay would laze in your room for an entire hour afterwards. You wondered where he told his friends he was going every evening, if he told them anything at all. You didn’t want to ask, though. The “relationship” between the two of you seemed so tenuous, so fragile, that if you pulled at any of the threads it could unravel. The emptiness after he left was becoming worse, too. What was once an indefinite, hazy feeling turned into a wound that began to fester. You constantly had to gauge how much you could reveal, holding back on kissing him passionately lest Jay find out that you didn’t hate him. That you were starting to want more. 

It was a Tuesday. Sunghoon’s birthday fell on Wednesday, and Riki’s fell on Thursday, so everyone who was going to the party was planning on skipping school. You had never skipped a day of college before, so you felt a delicious little thrill at the thought of it. Jay was lying in your bed, his hand on your stomach, lightly squeezing it. His hair was stuck to his forehead, and he was only now starting to catch his breath. He had gotten a new gash on his arm, probably from a stupid fight. He would always summarize those skirmishes as, “dumbass bullshit.” You never pried too deeply into what he did when he was being a Karma Club member. “I was thinking,” he said, “you know that motel, Colborne Motel?”

“No.”

“The one where that guy killed that hooker?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Huh. Well, a guy killed a hooker in one of those rooms, Room 115 or 116 or something.”

“Where are you going with this?”

Jay smiled, his white teeth gleaming in the darkening light filtering in from outside. “I think we should go there, drop E, and fuck.”

You squinted. “You want to hook up where someone got murdered?”

“I thought that that would appeal to you,” Jay said, continuing to squeeze and stroke your stomach. “Given your…personality.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You flicked his forehead, something you had seen Isa do to Riki.

Jay lightly flicked you back with his free hand. “You know exactly what that’s supposed to mean.” 

You reached out to flick him again, but Jay grabbed your wrist and rolled on top of you, pinning you to the bed. “Say it anyways.”

“Well, you certainly don’t seem scared of death,” he said, “and your Emily the Strange vibe doesn’t help.”

“You know who Emily the Strange is?”

“She was my first crush,” Jay said.

“Explains a lot about your psyche,” you deadpanned. “It’s very Freudian, your first love-object.”

“Oh, don’t start talking pseudoscience,” Jay said, pulling both of your wrists over your head. “It makes me want to do nasty things to you.”

“Does it?”

“Yeah, but you’re lucky I’m too tired.” Jay leaned down and kissed you, holding your wrists in one hand. The other slipped to your cheek. When he pulled away, he gave you an odd look. “Have you bought anything for Riki’s birthday?”

“No,” you said. “I don’t really know what to get him.”

Jay let go of your wrists and fell down beside you once more. “Neither do I,” Jay said. “That kid already has everything. Sunghoon was easy to shop for.”

“What’d you get him?”

“A novelty toaster oven.”

“Where’s the novelty?”

“It can toast a picture of a penguin on the bread,” Jay said. “It’s pretty cool.”

“I see.”

Jay sighed, running his fingers through his damp hair. “What do I get that kid?”

“Maybe I’ll get him a cologne,” you said thoughtfully. “He doesn’t seem like he has a lot. I guess I can take the bus to the mall”

“I’ll just drive you,” Jay said. You stared at him, befuddled. “What? It makes sense. I can find something for Riki, you can get him something so he knows that you’re not a shit friend who didn’t buy him a birthday gift, you give me head in a change room…”

“Jay.”

“The perfect plan,” he continued. “Go shower. Meet me on the corner of Decelis Street and blossom avenue.” Jay rolled out of your bed and started to put his clothes back on.

You could hardly move, but you got up anyway and started going through your closet for something to wear. You laid your clothes out on your bed.

“See you in 20,” Jay said once he was fully dressed. When he left, you shoved the wad of bills he had given you last month into your purse. Thanks to Jay, you could afford to buy Riki something nice.

—

Jay pulled up in his all-black Mazda. It didn’t have a single scuff, or any visible use of wear, which surprised you. You had figured that he would be a risky driver. Jay opened the door for you, yelling, “Get in.” 

You sank your head into the soft leather seat, trying not to make it apparent that you were admiring his car. No such luck. Jay looked at you and smirked.

“You’ve never even seen a car this nice, right?” he asked. 

“It serves its purpose as compensation for your manhood quite well,” you said. 

Jay scoffed, buckling his seatbelt. “That little joke would work better if you hadn’t seen how big my dick is. And you can’t say it’s not, either.”

“Yeah, yeah. Fine. You have a huge dick, a nice car, and you’re rich. You win.”

“Thank you,” Jay said. “That’s all I’ve been wanting to hear.”

“Can you put some sunglasses on, too?” you asked, putting your own seatbelt on over your bulky sweater. “So you can be as douchey as possible?”

Jay opened the glove compartment, fumbled around, and took out a small glasses case embossed with the word PRADA in gold lettering. He took out a sleek pair of sunglasses and put them on. “Are you ready for the most pretentious car ride of your goddamn life?”

“Ready,” you said, fighting a grin. 

Jay peeled off of the curb and drove towards the mall. You stared out of the window, trying to absorb everything about the surrounding city. Having no reason to venture off campus, this was practically new territory for you. The leaves were already red, shifting into a decaying brown. The houses you passed were somewhat smaller than Yeonjun’s place, yet still just as lavish. Jay turned onto the highway. 

“Gonna play some rock music,” he said, fidding with the Spotify app on the dashboard panel. “I know it’s not Alanis Morisette, but…”

“I like rock,” you said. “As most people do.”

“You’d be surprised,” Jay said. “Isa listens to the most mainstream shit ever. Frank Ocean, SZA, Taylor Swift…” Jay wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“They’re popular artists,” you said. 

“Popular shartists,” he said. Jay put on Highway to Hell by AC/DC, and you rolled your eyes.

“Asserting your musical dominance by playing one of the most well-known rock songs of all time, are we?”

“You don’t deserve to hear my selection of deep cuts,” Jay retorted. “Bitch.” 

You laughed. “Deep cuts such as American Idiot by Green Day and Smells like Teen Spirit by Nirvana?” 

“Oh, fuck you,” Jay said, but he was fighting a grin. “Pretentious slut.”

“Hypocritical manwhore.”

“Gloomy bitch.”

“Unfunny asshole.”

“Humourless cunt.”

“You copied mine,” you said. 

“That wasn’t copying,” Jay replied. “That was me improving upon your work.”

“Improving used subjectively here?”

“I’ll use you subjectively,” Jay said.

“What?”

“My dick is like half-mast right now,” he said. “Can I pull over so we can…”

“No.”

Jay laughed so loudly he nearly swerved into a semi-truck. You yelled, which only made him laugh more. Eventually, you joined in as well. 

–

You had never been to an outlet mall before, let alone one so upscale. You only recognized some of the names displayed on the map just outside the entrance - Prada, Dior, Chanel, Gucci, Versace. It was a dizzying list, one that harkened back the years of thrift store clothes and exclusion. 

“You see anywhere you want to go?” Jay asked, coming up behind you. He had been busy trying to tuck his sunglasses into his loose baggy T-shirt, eventually settling with wearing them around the back of his head. 

“Uh,” you said. “Don’t know.”

“There’s a Tom Ford store,” Jay said, pointing towards the north of the map. They make good fragrances. I have a few, actually. We could go there first, then I’ll get my gift for him.”

“Sounds good,” you said weakly. Even though he was dressed casually, Jay still seemed like he meshed better with the platoon of patrons wandering around, hauling shopping bags as big as suitcases around. You felt like someone’s raggedy little sister. 

“What are you waiting for?” Jay asked. “Shoo.”

You sighed, walking towards Tom Ford. As you walked, you passed by stores with avant-garde clothes pasted on mannequins in different poses, makeup boutiques, and lingerie stores. 

“Should we stop here?” Jay asked innocently, pointing at La Perla.

“What, for you? Sure,” you said. 

“Maybe I will,” Jay said. “I’d look cute in a thong, wouldn’t you agree.”

You clamped your mouth shut and he snorted. “This mall is nice because no one from our school comes here,” he said. “They just shop online, or if they shop in person, they go to the one over in Riverfield.”

“Why?”

“There’s boba,” he explained. “And there’s trendier stores there, but I like classic stores better. You know what I mean?”

“No.”

“I guess you wouldn’t,” he said. “Like Cinderella without the talking rats.”

“There’s one right next to me,” you said. 

Jay snorted. “That was good, actually.”

You smiled and continued taking in your surroundings. The sky was dark, but the cobblestone paths of the outlet mall were lined with old-fashioned street lamps that illuminated the area well. Eventually, you made your way to Tom Ford. Jay opened the door for you, impatiently ushering you inside. The store was hopelessly luxurious. Two sumptuous grey couches faced each other, settled on swirled marble floors. The shelves were glass, and the items were one of each. You supposed that you had to request the item you wanted. 

You wandered towards the fragrance section, where an overly-effusive worker hounded you. Jay nodded at him once and then he went away somewhere else. You marveled at how Jay’s aura, if you could call it that, extended outside of school. You spritzed a random bottle of cologne onto a strip of paper, waved it in the air, and took a sniff. 

“Costa Azzura,” Jay said, watching you closely. “That’s a good one.” 

“I don’t know if it’ll suit Riki,” you mumbled. Jay snatched the piece of paper from you and inhaled. 

“You’re right,” he said. “Too mature for him.” 

You took a lighter-coloured bottle and sampled that next. It was citrusy, with a hint of spice. “This is better,” you said. Grey Vetiver.

Jay frowned at you. “Don’t you want to try more?”

“Why? This one smells fine.” 

“Maybe there’s one that’ll be better,” Jay said. 

You groaned and put the bottle back on the shelf. Azure Lime was next, then Tuscan Leather, then Fucking Fabulous. “There’s too many,” you grumbled. “I’m getting Grey Vetiver.”

“You’re rushing the process,” Jay said. “Here, try Electric Cherry.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Do it,” he growled. You reluctantly took a sniff of the strip of paper Jay had thrust under your nose. 

“It’s fine,” you said weakly. “It’s very feminine, though. Not sure if Riki would like it.”

“Riki,” Jay said. “Riki. Yeah, you’re right. Get the Grey Vetiver.” Jay beckoned a store attendant to come over, requesting a box of the cologne. While they were gone, you opened your purse and took out a few of the $100 bills Jay had given you.

Jay stared at you, dumbfounded. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m going to pay for th-,”

“No,” Jay said sternly. “No, no paying with fucking cash at a luxury store. Were you raised in a barn?”

“But-,”

“So useless,” Jay said. “I’ll just pay for it. It’s my money you were going to use anyways.” He walked over to the cash register and paid for the cologne, a scowl on his face the entire time. When he was done, he thrusted the bag into your hands. “You’re welcome,” he said.

You stumbled out of the store after him. “Where will you go to get your gift for Riki?” you asked. 

“I don’t know, prude,” Jay snapped. “Unlike you, I know how to enjoy a shopping experience.” 

Enjoy was a very generous word to use. Jay dragged you to virtually every single store in the mall that sold men’s clothing. He hemmed and hawed over the cut of pants, asked the store attendants to bring out clothes that he examined with the scrutiny of a surgeon, and fingered the fabric of every piece he liked. 

He made you try on the clothes over your own outfit, forcing you to put on bombers, puffs, leather jackets, and assorted hats. 

“This Moncler raincoat suits you,” Jay murmured. It had been two hours, and your feet were aching. 

“It doesn’t matter if it suits me,” you said, your voice coming out in a whine. “It’s for Riki.”

Jay waved his hand. “All you younger people are the same anyways. Come on, put this short down jacket on.” 

You stripped the raincoat off and handed it over to an attendant before trying on the jacket. 

“Very nice,” Jay said, a hand over his mouth. “Very nice…”

“How come you’re getting him a jacket, anyways? Doesn’t he already have one? Or several?”

“Every year, the KC goes on a trip over winter break,” Jay explained, fondling the hem of the jacket. “We all pick straws to see who gets to pick the location. Jungwon drew the longest, so we’re going to the Swiss Alps.”

“The Alps?”

“Don’t bother asking,” Jay muttered. “I don’t know either. Arms up.”

You stuck your arms out so Jay could examine the “movement” of the jacket, whatever that meant. He wasn’t even getting them in Riki’s size anymore. 

“Yes….good…Now take it off.” Once you peeled off the warm coat, Jay gestured for a store attendant. “One in this size,” he said. 

“Riki won’t fit in that,” you said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jay said. “That’s for something else.”

Or someone else. You bit your lip in frustration. He was probably buying that stupid jacket for Isa, and you were just the model. 

“I’m tired,” you said. 

“One last store,” Jay said, his voice dropping slightly. “Wanted to go back to Armani, get him a nice suit.”

“Whatever.”

“Poor doggy,” Jay said, scratching your chin. “All tired out?”

You pulled your head away from his hand. “I’m not a dog.”

“Woof.”

“I hope you get stranded in the Swiss Alps,” you grumbled. 

“You’d get stranded there too,” Jay said.

“Why would I be there?”

Jay smiled, once again brandishing his credit card as he walked to the cash register. “Trip rules state that we can take one person as a date,” he said. “And dickless is probably going to ask you to go with him.”

“And you’ll ask Isa?”

If you hadn’t been so attuned to his actions, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the way his fingers tightened on his bank card. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take Isa.”

–

When you got back to your dorm room, clutching the Tom Ford back, you let out a shaky sigh. You considered tossing the cologne onto your bed, but Riki didn’t deserve to suffer just because you were upset. Instead, you pulled out your phone and downloaded the Instagram app.

You needed a good name, something anonymous, something that no one could ever associate with you. Just in case things went tits-up. You decided on the moniker “jumblesack82.” Then you went to your Notes app, found Nina’s Instagram handle, and typed it in. She wasn’t private, so you could scroll through her photos. 

Nina was pretty, sociable, smart, and outgoing. Her feed was plastered with pictures of her with friends, wearing cute outfits, and enjoying life. Just before you followed her, you decided to see if you couldn’t find Lily.

Scrolling through her followers list, you eventually found her. lily2morrow. Her entire page appeared to be pictures of her holding various drinks and smiling, one of which you recognized as the maca root smoothie she had given you last month. Lily had posted something on her Instagram story, so you clicked on it. It was a picture of someone with their face cut off, holding the straw of a smoothie and playfully trying to cover the photo with the other. To your horror and dismay, you recognized those pale, pale hands. Sunghoon and Lily…? The Karma Club truly left no stones unturned.

You went through her following to find Isa’s page next. It just made you feel like throwing up. Seeing her selfies, her vibrant red hair, her stupid fucking captions like, “I’d marry you with paper rings~” it made you feel insane. What turned your stomach the most recent photo she had taken, one of her and Jay. His hand settled on her waist, and she was cupping his chin in her hand. He was actually smiling into the camera. 

From what you had ascertained from his comments about her, you had assumed that Jay disliked Isa. You couldn’t understand why he was still with her, but you could at least revel in the fact that he disliked her in some way. But this picture of them, undeniable proof that people knew they were together, that they existed beyond four walls, it made your skin crawl. People probably mentioned them in tandem: there’s Jay and Isa, are Isa and Jay going to the party, Jay likes Isa, Isa likes Jay, Isa loves Jay, Isa wants to fuck Jay. Seemingly to protect your sensibilities, Isa rarely talked about Jay in the group chat you had with her and Lily. Mainly, you coordinated when you were going to meet up, shared funny pictures. Occasionally, she would allude to “her man”, but you could take that in stride. You realized that she probably spoke to Lily about Jay, behind your back. 

You didn’t bother trying to find the Karma Club members on Instagram. You felt like your world was already imploding. Through blurred vision, you DMed Nina. You thought it would be wise to disguise your typing style. 

You: hi im the girl you met earlier >_<

Nina: Hi! You’re the one who had trouble with the Karma Club

You: yes ._.

Nina: I’ll tell one of them to invite you right now, girlie!

You: thank you girlie >3<

Soon, you were inside of the group chat, conveniently and aptly titled “Anti KC”. Immediately, several people started texting at once, relaying a variety of greetings. They asked you what your name was, and you said you were hiding your identity for protection. “So smart,” one of them typed. You frowned. None of them had used alternate accounts? 

You scrolled through the members of the group chat. You didn’t know most of them. Jisun, Somi, Rachel, Sieun, Irene, Chaeyoung, Minji, Dia. All very beautiful girls.

One of them asked what the Karma Club had done to you, and the others concurred. They wanted to know everything. So they could help you, they said. You briefly considered lying, but then you remembered that picture, that damned picture of Jay and Isa. 

So you typed out everything leading up to Jay’s rape of you. After some hesitation, you included that. You read your message back over before you sent it. It looked so garish, awful, and inhumane looking at it. The facts were cold and conveyed none of the nuance. None of the emotions you had felt. You sent it anyways.

You received a sympathetic wave of asspats, which did nothing to lessen your internal anguish. Oh, well. They believed you, and they trusted you. That was something. You didn’t exactly join the group chat to kumbaya anyways. You were here for answers, to figure out what had happened to Mina once and for all. Nina had mentioned that the group chat was made shortly after the Mina incident, so you started by backscrolling. You didn’t care that it would take a while.

You were surprised by the sheer inanity of half of the conversations in the group chat. You had assumed that it would be more like a group of women attempting to take down the Karma Club, but instead it was partially being used for idle gossip. Still, some of the things you saw were interesting. For example, that Heeseung was a serial cheater, and had slept with nearly every single girl in the group besides Sieun and Minji, who were your age. 

One year, the Karma Club had allegedly destroyed thousands of dollars worth of alcohol when they went to a bar. Sunoo had given the rugby team, the volleyball team, the cheerleading squad, several teachers, and a few of the girls in the chat the shits. Sunghoon extorted people for money, Jungwon supposedly had blackmail on half of the school, and Riki was “cute but evil.” They didn’t say anything about the things he had done, oddly enough.

None of this seemed as bad as what Jay had done to you, although Jay was a most reviled figure in the chat. Strangely enough, they seemed to slobber over him in equal measure to their lambasement of him. “He’s so hot but so fucked up,” one of them said. “He’s like irl Takumi from Nana frrrr” another person said. Ridiculous. All they could say about him was that he got into fights, had a nasty temper, and couldn’t hold a girlfriend down. “Good luck to Isa,” one person said. You had to bite your fist to stop yourself from screaming. 

Eventually, after what felt like a month of nonstop scrolling, you got into the earlier years of the chat. Dia, Chaeyoung, and Rachel had started the group chat because they had gotten cheated on by Heeseung. They commented on the Mina incident, initially condemning her.

“she makes the rest of us look bad,” Rachel had typed. “lying about rape is crazyyy”

“fr,” Chaeyoung had sent. “amber heard ass”

Then someone named Jisun had been introduced into the chat. She had been diligent in cataloging what the Karma Club had done. Jisun had apparently been friends with Mina and defended her friend.

“jake is so evil and im sick of people acting like he’s not as equally as big of a piece of shit as the rest of them lmao,” Jisun had said. “jake ruined her life. hes the one that got her hooked on oxy. shes prbly in rehab rn. i dont even know if she lied her not. even if she did, he deserved it”

“fuck fake” Dia had typed. “*jake”

Oxy? Oxycontin? You already knew, but you Googled it just to be sure. Your heart was pounding inside of your ears. Oxycontin, a known opioid. On one hand, you should be wary of any information you got from people who hated the Karma Club members. On the other hand, it was a coincidence you couldn’t ignore. 

Mina had to be administered naloxone, something used during an opioid overdose. Jake had introduced Mina to opioids. 

And tomorrow night, you would be partying with him.

(continued in next part)

[certifiedfreec]

i can’t stop thinking about neighbor!graves… 🤔

🏡 you’re new to the neighborhood, getting all your things moved in and seemingly drowning in all the boxes of stuff you have. you ordered some items to replace the ones that got damaged or lost during transit, so that only added on to the cardboard-ridden mess that was your new living room.

🏡 a few days after settling in, you finally notice one of your packages has a mysterious name on it: phillip graves. you suddenly feel bad; how long has this guy been missing his delivery?? you bustle out your door in your pajamas, looking for the house number that matches the one on the package until you finally find it. it’s a fairly large house with dark, sophisticated paint. it’s across and over from yours with a huge black truck backed into the driveway. very snazzy for a truck, you think, hurrying your way to the tall entry door and ringing the doorbell.

🏡 “hey, how can i help ya?” his slight twang is warm and uplifting when he opens the door, eyeing you with a keen interest. god, he’s pretty. he sees what’s standing before him in the cutest little pj set and he’s feeling like an angel was dropped at his doorstep. meanwhile, you’re freaking out- standing there in your scrubby pajamas in front of this ridiculously attractive man, who is apparently your neighbor, and you’ve been holding onto his package without him knowing. (you realize there’s another package of his you’d like to hold though- ba dum tss!)

🏡 you shyly introduce yourself, pointing toward your house and then handing him the box, which he accepts with a teasing “gonna have to tell the HOA about the new thief on the block,” and a quick wink. it nearly melts you, but we must stay focused brothers!! he thanks you and introduces himself as phillip, taking the chance to let you know that you caught him at a good time because he’s often out for extended periods of time with his work. the poor baby must exhaust himself with how busy he is :(

🏡 you hear what he’s saying and being the new, good little neighbor you are, you offer to swing by and grab his mail, check on his plants, and do some basic house upkeep whenever he’s gone. hook, line, and sinker- it’s just what he wants to hear. he accepts your offer with that pearly grin of his, but not without adding his contact info to your phone so he can let you know when he’ll be out of town :’) he’s just so handsome that you feel like you won the jackpot!

🏡 from that day on, it’s like you keep bumping into each other outside- how silly! you start to find some excuses to be out front, maybe to check your roof for any damage or plant some flowers along the side yard, and whaddaya know, neighbor!graves soon finds himself outside giving his big ‘ol truck a wash (you could swear it’s already spotless). god, those flexing muscles and the wet t-shirt clinging to them are much more interesting than your rhododendrons.

🏡 he’s such a friendly neighbor- he’s really taken a liking to you! <3 whenever he’s actually home, he’s got your grocery bags carried inside or he’s grilled some barbecue that you’d be “downright ridiculous not to try”- his words, not yours! it’s delicious, of course, and he credits all his skills to his old man and his “coworkers.” you decide to bake him some sweets in return, and he just about melts. you’re just so good, and so is your baking! he’d really like to taste something else though, too…

🏡 now, neighbor!graves is a pretty nosy guy, so he’s taken it upon himself to keep you in the loop on all the drama in the neighborhood. but really, can you blame him? it’s in his nature to find intel- someone in the community has to do it! this is also a subtle way of letting you know that he’ll be keeping an eye on you, too- because he’s gotta look out for his fellow neighbors, especially if they’re adorable ;)

🏡 eventually he’s away for a few weeks and you’re on deck to pick up his mail, water his indoor plants, all that good stuff. he gives you a key before he leaves and tells you “go ‘head and keep it, mi casa es su casa,” fully inviting you to get comfy in his space- and you do! his furniture is so sleek yet so cozy, his living room complete with a super plush leather couch and a ridiculously large tv. you gather from all his medals and badges decorating the place that he’s very accomplished at what he does- this guy’s the real deal. you also get a nagging feeling that you want to spend more time in his space- it’s just so comfortable, and it smells like sweet vetiver and crisp mint :’)

🏡 so… neighbor!graves, being the nosy guy that he is, has been tracking when you’ve been going over by checking his high-end front door camera from his phone. he can’t help but get flustered at the idea of you in his most personal space- god, he wants you in his bed- and he starts to remember your routine. when he’s finally finished with his operation, he may or may not schedule his flight so that he arrives home shortly after the time usually head over, and your entire body stills when you hear his garage go up. he walks in with some heavy-looking bags wearing an all-black outfit, and you almost swoon. he’s such a man.

🏡 woops, surprise! he apologizes for forgetting to mention when he’d be getting home. he’s so damn excited to see you in his house though, so cute and dutiful, having left his plants perfectly hydrated and not a speck of dust in the area. he has an inkling-no, a certainty- that you’d be an amazing housewife. he invites you to stick around for a drink since you’re already there anyway, and of course you accept since you’d be “downright ridiculous” if you didn’t!

🏡 after you fill him in on the neighborhood drama he missed over some scotch (he is loving your intel collection skills, by the way), he reaches for his wallet to get you some cash for all the trouble- this man was really about to give you a wad of hundreds for your menial house chores! unbelievable! you immediately shoo it away, insisting that it really was no big deal… well, now you’ve left him stumped, because how else could he ever show his appreciation for your hard work while he was away??

🏡 by eating your pussy, of course! it takes very little resistance on both your ends until you’re sprawled out on his luxuriously soft bed with his head between your thighs, moaning and mewling so loud from the perfect licks and swirls on your aching, needy clit that his front door camera can practically pick up on your noises :’) your slick is getting all over his satiny sheets, but he doesn’t even pay that any mind. a few sharp sucks to your sensitive bundle of nerves and the scratch of his light blond stubble along your inner thighs has you cumming so hard that you can’t help but chant his name- and he’ll be damned if that isn’t music to his ears! <3

🏡 he still doesn’t feel like he’s fully shown you his appreciation…maybe he needs to fuck the shit out of you too! he’s talking to you so nicely as he stretches your pulsing walls with his huge, veiny cock, reassuring you that you’re “such a good girl,” “lookin’ so gorgeous right now,” “takin’ me like a champ, baby.”… you’ve never felt so full, yet somehow you can’t get enough of him :( he decides to place a silky pillow under your hips so he can pummel into you from a deeper angle, and he leaves all kinds of purply marks along your chest as he tells you just how perfect your pussy is for him- god, he’s happy you moved here!

🏡 by now you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve orgasmed around his length, and he finally coats your insides with his warm, thick spurts of cum as he groans your name. you both collapse onto his sheets, exhaustedly drifting to sleep just to do it all over again in the morning ;) he gets a hot shower ready for the both of you before kindly requesting some of your amazing baking- he even offers you to wear one of his t-shirts so you don’t get any ingredients on your own clothes! of course, you’re more than happy to oblige. after all, he’s such a friendly neighbor <3

[mattslolita]

thriller - c. & m. sturniolo ( 001. )

in which ... you find out the truth about your best friends and their secret on halloween night, under the full moon.

( vampire!chris & black!fem!reader & vampire!matt )

warnings ; blood, death, suggestive, angst, fighting, two separate endings ( matt version, chris version )

"𝒏𝒐 𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓."

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗˗ˏˋ ꒰

the sun was close to the horizon, almost setting on the west side of the continent. the leaves crunched underneath the shoes of eager children and restless teens, and the soft hum of the october breeze promised a very eventful evening for everyone — halloween was your favorite holiday for this exact reason.

fall was your favorite season, anyway — it was cozy, and the vibes were immaculate in your opinion, which you loved. but the days leading up to halloween are what excited you the most, buying candy to trick or treat and fun parties you'd get invited to. dressing up was one of the best parts as well, cause it was the one night of year where you could wear whatever the hell you wanted without the shame of others. but regardless of halloween, you wore whatever you wanted anyway.

your best friends were having the halloween party this year, just like they had last year — it was somewhat a new tradition of theirs, but you weren't complaining, especially with how big their house was. it sat on a lot of land, and you deemed them pretty much rich.

they were humble though, and more often than you'd like to admit you spent most of your time there with the three triplets brothers — nick was the oldest, and you completely adored him. you'd never say it in front of the other two, but nick had always been your favorite. you loved how easy it had been to talk to him about any and everything, and you were grateful having found such an amazing best friend.

then, there were the other two brothers — matt and chris.

they were your best friends too, of course, but things were slightly more complicated when it came to those two. everything was platonic between you and them, but you wouldn't deny the obvious attraction you felt towards both of the siblings. matt was gentle and understanding with you, always so patient as well. you loved that he was like that with you, which is what attracted you to him. with chris, you'd feel comfortable talking to him about anything — he also brought out the goofier side of you, whilst also putting you on a pedestal and treating you like you were the only girl ever. which is how you constantly found yourself second guessing your relationship with the two of them.

you were sat at your vanity mirror, applying the last bit of makeup to complete your costume — horror movies had always been your favorite, so naturally, you had to dress as one of your favorite slashers.

the eyeliner wing you had finished sat perfectly in place as you grinned at your reflection — the dark red, glittery eye shadow sparkled back at you. you stood up and smoothed out the black leather skirt that rode up your bare, brown thighs accompanied by the black and red striped halter top with sleeves. the final piece was the brown hat that sat atop of your knotless box braids, creating your look — freddy krueger.

nightmare on elm street were one of your favorites, and you had already done ghostface last year — besides, you know you'd get lucky tonight with how good you looked.

the triplet brother's party started soon, so you hurriedly sprayed some perfume on yourself before walking around your desk and to your bed where your small, black juicy couture handbag laid waiting for you.

you took your phone from the dresser and checked the time, seeing it was eight o'clock. a grin overtook your features as you could hear footsteps of children outside — when you walked over to the window, the sky had darkened and a cozy, yet mysterious wind whistled throughout the streets of boston.

with your handbag on your shoulder, you exited your room towards the living room where your younger brother sat with your dad, a bowl of candy sat in between as a film was playing on the flat screen tv.

"woah, y/n!" your brother said with wide eyes, causing you to giggle as you do a spin.

"honey, you sure you wanna go out of the house like that?" your dad asks you, concern lacing his voice as he skims over your outfit, "you sure you'll be okay? you got that pepper spray i got you?"

"dad, why do i need pepper spray when i took that pocket knife from the cabinet?" you accidentally admitted, making his eyes widen.

"you what?"

"nevermind, i'm gonna be fine, okay?" you say quickly, a smile gracing your features as you walked over to both of them. you planted a kiss to your dad's head, then kissed your brother's cheek. "i'll call you if anything happens. have fun!"

"you too!" your brother called after you, waving to you as you wave back cheekily and head out of the house.

the warm nighttime breeze carried a precarious, yet exciting aura as you began to walk down the street — the laughter of the young children have already rang throughout the streets, accompanied by various shouts of "trick or treat!". you smiled at the kids dressed in whatever their hearts desired, enjoying this autumn night with nothing to offer but tricks and treats to all.

the trek to the sturniolo household wasn't too far, as it was the only house down the road that sat alone. as you approached the end of the road where they lived, you could make out the silhouettes of multiple people having arrived already, a lot of them carrying different drinks with them.

excitedly, you make your way up the long driveway in front of you, stopping to greet some people that you recognized — psycho killer by the talking heads blasted throughout the entirety of the house, causing an excited thrill to course through your body; that was definitely picked out by matt, who knew it to be one your favorite 80s songs.

"y/n, you look so good!" a girl dressed as carrie complimented you as you walked inside of the large home.

"girl, you look good too!" you said back.

you looked around the house for the culprits of the party throwing, having not seen them at the moment. the house was decorated with spider webs that lined random areas, with multicolored lights that spilled onto the ceiling. you frowned as your hand rested on your hip, finding it weird that the three boys were nowhere to be found.

"hi y/n," a blonde girl dressed as cher horowitz suddenly says from behind you, causing you to jump a little as you turn to face her.

"oh...hi?" you say, confusion lacing your features. you've never seen this girl in your life honestly, so it was weird how she knew your name.

"nick, matt, and chris told me to keep an eye on you," she tells you, her gaze never wandering as she looks you in the eye.

almost as if she's under some kind of hypnosis?

"um that's sweet, but i don't need nobody to watch me," you tell her sweetly, attempting to walk away.

"stay inside the house, at the party," she tells you, her eyes narrowing and her voice stern.

now, you weren't one to take kindly to people telling you what to do — but for some reason, you felt a little weary at the fact that the triplets had someone watching you, for some reason. maybe they knew something you didn't?

"okay," you nod to her slowly, and she perks up and smiles. she imitates the gesture of having her eyes on you, before she walks away and disappears into the growing crowd of people.

as strange as you felt the interaction to be, you were not about to let it ruin your mood — you went to the nearest table with drinks, deciding on pouring yourself some pink whitney to start you off for the night.

"omg y/n, come here!" some girls from your class squealed, crowding around you as finished pouring your drink.

"hey, y'all!" you say cheerily, holding your cup up and blowing slightly, "i'm finna get so fucked up, i swear."

"I feel you on that one," one girl agrees with you, tipping her cup back as she empties its remnants into her mouth, "let's dance!"

the girls grab your hand just as candy by doja cat reverberates throughout the speakers of the mansion — you let yourself get loose, enjoying how you look in your costume as well as the electric energy flowing through you, and it wasn't just the drink.

an hour had passed by, and you had only had three drinks — you didn't necessarily need to get shit faced to have fun, so you didn't mind it. two guys had already tried flirting with you and playfully gave them the time of day.

but something else was plaguing your mind.

you hadn't seen your best friends at all so far, and it was especially weird considering this was their party. it also made you kind of sad that it seemed like they didn't seem to be looking for you, either. you also wanted to tell them about how great the party was, but they were nowhere to be found.

you slipped away from the dancing crowd, deciding that you were going to find them alone — didn't anyone else find it weird that they couldn't find their hosts?

everybody by the backstreet boys could now be heard, and you looked around to see if you could spot that blonde from earlier anywhere nearby. to your fortune, you were able to slip out the back door without her spotting you.

you smoothed your skirt once again, sighing longingly as you stood on the back patio of the huge mansion. you looked around, and it was slightly comforting that you were the only one outside aside from a couple messily making out near one of the trees nearby.

the mansion was in front of the woods, creating a horror movie kind of aesthetic to their home. you smiled to yourself at the thought, thinking that this whole setting would be perfect for one if it ever came down to it.

a branch snapping caused your head to whip towards the woods again, on high alert. you looked around, but nobody had been there.

looking behind you, you saw that nobody had followed you, so you cautiously began to walk towards the woods in front of you. a cold shiver runs down your spine as leaves prickle underneath your chunky platform boots, and the atmosphere suddenly turns eerie.

it was pitch black except for the party you left, which illuminated onto the creepy looking trees in your vision. a gulp rides down your throat when you reach the first set of trees.

another twig snaps, and your heart races wildly as you can hear your heart thumping in your ears as you continue the trek into the deeper part of the woods. it's eerily quiet, and you can't deny the goosebumps that crawl on your arms. but you were determined — you know that noise didn't just come randomly; you just prayed it wasn't some rogue animal that would come and eat you.

a breeze sifts past you, and you shudder and bring your arms up to run them over each other, feeling the fabric of the ripped halter top. looking up, your eyes have found the full moon — a twinge of red outlines it, casting a reddish glow upon the earth beneath it.

another breeze rushes past you again but this time, you swear you see a figure whiz past you too. rightfully feeling scared now, you turn around to try and catch the figure, but it seemed to have already vanished.

you probably would've been better off listening to the girl who tried to warn you, but you were too stubborn to really listen when you were supposed to.

another twig snaps, and you fully gasp now — you were sure of it now, there was definitely someone, or something that was there with you.

"is someone there?" you manage to say, your voice stern as you address the being who's trying to spook you. "this better not be some sick joke, i'm too sober for this shit."

another whoosh — but this time, the figure wasn't so careful trying to hide themselves, almost as if they wanted you to see them. your heart rate has increased beyond belief, you were sure it would leap out of your chest and onto the floor below you.

"hello?" your voice squeaks, less confident than before.

you make out hushed voices in the distance, causing chills to flood your body as you begin to back up — only, you bumped into a hard chest.

you gasp, but cold, yet familiar hands grip your arms, massaging your tense muscles. "y'know kid, you really should've listened to raleigh back there."

"c-chris?" your voice says, eyebrows furrowed as you turn around to face the man before you.

his cheeks are more sunk in than usual, face as pale as the moonlight above the two of you — his cheekbones are highly accentuated thanks to the moonlit glow. it isn't until he grins down at you, that you notice them.

the sharp, canine teeth that stare back at you.

"w-wha-"

you attempt to back up again, only to be met with yet another chest — the familiar ringed hand holds you in place as goosebumps ride up and down your skin.

"why'd you leave the party, y/n?" matt's voice asks, dangerously close to your ear.

"i just...needed to find you guys," you whisper, eyes still fixated on chris in front of you.

his primal gaze had raked your entire figure, drinking in the sight of your body and all of its curves in your costumes. he runs his tongue over his bottom set of teeth, eyeing you hungrily.

"can you control yourself, please?" matt says again, his grip on you easing only slightly, "when i let go of you y/n, you better not run. got it?"

you nod your head up and down, too focused on chris's gaze which has now darkened as he continues looking down at you — he clicks his tongue as he begins to take a few steps closer to you. "words, princess, we need words."

the nickname rolls off of his tongue so smoothly, embarrassingly having you weak in the knees. "okay."

matt releases his grip on you, your heart still pounding loudly as you take one step forward. slowly, you turn to face matt — his facial features mirror chris's, yet he looks down at you with concern and a sternness as he examines you.

"can one of you explain to me..." you breathe out, watching matt watch you, turning your insides to jelly, "...what's happening?"

chris chuckles from behind you, and you can tell he's shaking his head in disapproval — you hadn't meant to disobey what they asked of you, but your curiosity had gotten the best of you.

and it's how you currently found yourself in this predicament, second guessing everything you ever knew about your best friends.

a cold hand reaches up to massage the base of your shoulder from behind, and you suck in a sharp breath as you melt into chris's touch — his hand grips you firmly, gently tugging you back towards him.

"chris," matt warns, narrowing his icy blue eyes that are now tinged with a darkness.

"oh come on, matt," chris hisses, tilting your head as he moves your braids to the side, staring up at his brother tauntingly, "don't you wanna taste her?"

your eyes widen slightly as matt's gaze seemingly zeroes in over your exposed neck — he senses your vein before he can see it begin to show almost as if he'd hypnotized that part of your body to follow his command. darkness clouds the icy blue in his eyes as veins begin to show under his eyes — his canine teeth protrude out of his mouth as he stares with so much intensity you were almost certain you'd stumble over if it hadn't been for chris's relentless grip on you.

then it happens in the blink of an eye — matt's teeth sink into your exposed flesh.

the thing that surprises you most is not that your best friend had just exposed his supernatural abilities to you, but rather your reaction to it — a needy whimper escapes your throat as chris chuckles darkly from behind you, as matt feeds from the blood that flows through your veins.

a gasp sounds from your lips when matt pulls away, his cold, ringed hand swiping across his mouth as he sticks his middle finger in his mouth to suck off the rest of your sweet blood, whilst keeping eye contact with you.

"and look who couldn't control themselves?" chris taunts, swiping at your neck to get the last drop of your blood, a satisfied groan leaving his lips as he leans down to your ear, "tastes so sweet."

"fuck," matt says, his eyes having gone back to normal as he takes in your shocked and confused expression, "sorry about that, y/n."

"vampire..." you mutter, closing your eyes, "okay, i can live with this. what the actual fuck?"

"uh oh, i think someone's upset with us," chris tsks, causing you to snatch yourself out of grip as you whirl around to face him angrily.

"yeah, i'm mad as fuck," you suddenly hiss, prodding your pointer finger into his chest, "how long have you been keeping this a secret from me?"

"if i'm like one hundred and seven and matt's like one hundred and-"

"chris, i'm serious!" you say, narrowing your eyes at him, then you turn to see matt's guilty expression, "how could you guys keep something like this hidden from me?"

"do you not see what i just did to you, y/n?" matt says sternly, narrowing his eyes at you, motioning to his own neck, "this isn't exactly something you'd want someone you care about to be exposed to."

"even if y'know, you did like that bite," chris whispers in your ear, causing a tingle to go down your spine, "kinky y/n, i like it."

"shut up, christopher," you snap, causing him to put his arms up defensively, yet the hint of a smirk remained on his face. "why did you not feel like you could tell me about...this?"

"we didn't want to risk you looking at us differently," matt explains patiently, "it gets bad, y/n. when we first turned, it took a long time for us to get used to this side of ourselves — fighting the urges and having self restraint was hard when all we craved was the one thing you can't just normally going around feeding on."

you sighed knowingly, having watched the vampire diaries millions of times — only, now it was somewhat your reality. "matt, you know i wouldn't look at you differently. yes this is crazy as fuck, but you'd have to be heartless in order for me to ever hate you."

you smile softly and yank matt down to your level, pulling him in for a hug — you're pretty sure the bite on your neck was as tempting as ever with him being so close to it, but you were more or less focused on showing him your affection.

you pulled away, repeating the same actions with chris. he rests his arms on your lower back area, and you lean into his touch as you let out a sigh on content.

"now, where is nick?" you ask when you pull away from him, resting your hand on your hip.

"listening to this theatrical version of what simply could've been a 'hey y/n, we were turned into vampires about a hundred years ago, don't kill us with a stake please!'," a familiar voice says, before appearing right next to chris.

nick rolls his eyes at his brothers, before looking at you apologetically. "sorry for not telling you about it."

"i get why it was the last thing you wanted to do," you smile at nick softly, both chris and matt looking at you agape.

"so i get poked in my fuckin' chest and we get yelled back, but he practically gets a pat on the back?" chris says, "unbelievable."

"i'm sensing favoritsm," matt huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.

"i thought we already established a while ago that nick was my favorite?" you tease him, causing him to shake his head and scoff.

"what the fuck, are you kidding me?" nick says, his eyes narrowing on the mark on you neck. he walks towards you and examines it closely, before dragging a hand down his face, "which one of you two fucking idiots bit her?"

"imagine the shock when i tell you it was matt," chris snickers, nodding to the second oldest triplet brother.

nick whirls his head around to face matt, narrowing his eyes at him. "did you at least get her permission? if you weren't so careful next time, she could've-"

"yeah, i know, nick," matt glares, glancing over at you, "it's not something that's gonna happen again."

"if somehow you guys can't exactly feed like you need to, i'd be happy to help you, though," you offer, shrugging your shoulders, "as long as y'know, you don't bleed me dry."

"can't make any promises to that, ma," chris grins at you with a wink, causing you to roll your eyes.

"fuck, you're shivering," nick notices, looking upon the goosebumps that riddle your skin, "we need to get back to the party."

"everyone's gonna wonder why we all randomly just came from the woods," you spoke up, as you all began walking towards the beginning of the woods, "probably some secret satanic orgy, except nick's gay so he fucked a tree."

"how does that even- nevermind," nick sighs, causing you to giggle.

"y'know if you really wanna fulfill that fantasy..." chris whispers in your ear, his arm grazing your skirt, causing heat to rise throughout your body.

"you're such a pervert, chris!" you tell him, swatting his arm away from you.

( lilly's section 💌 )

so this was already basically finished before i posted my announcement about needing to take a writing break, so i just wanted to get this out sigh. for my angel girls @muwapsturniolo @thenickgirl @luverboychris @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter ! i love you guys. 💌

@luverboychris @muwapsturniolo @mrssturnioloo @mattsturniolosleftnut @sturnprime @thenickgirl @guccifrog @nickgetsmewetter @eyeliketoeatpoosay @e1ias3 @sp3aknaur @middlepartmatt @summerssover @riasturns @sturn777 @l0akkzz @hysteria-things @pinksturniolo @chrissturniolossidehoe @chris-slut @hoesformatt @raysmayhem-72 @lanas-doll @chrisssluttywaist @mbbsgf @jetaimevous @chaossturns @cottoncandyswisherz @oliviasturniolo21

[corruptedcaps]

What a drag

Anna was worried about her best friend Chloe. It wasn’t just that Chloe had started smoking, though that was odd enough. It was how the cigarettes seemed to changed her.

Anna first noticed it during one of their usual hangouts at their local coffee shop. Chloe lit up a cigarette, her fingers effortlessly handling it like it was something she did every day. There was something in the way she exhaled the smoke, how her eyes seemed to glitter with a new, almost unsettling confidence. At first, Anna thought it was just in her head, but as the days passed, it became impossible to ignore.

Chloe was more vain now, always checking her reflection, fussing over her hair, her clothes. She wore makeup Anna had never seen her use before. Seductive red lipstick, winged eyeliner, bold choices that made her look stunning but unlike her. She had started dressing differently too. Wearing dresses that barely covered anything, plunging necklines that showed off an impressive rack that Anna had never noticed before.

The looks Anna could have seen past but her attitude was changing from the kind and sweet girl Anna knew into some sort of vapid and arrogant 'it' girl that was more unrecognizable by the day.

Anna had started to suspect that all the changes had something to do with the cigarettes when she noticed that no matter how many Chloe smoked, the box always seemed full. At first, Anna dismissed it as a trick of the light or her own imagination. But the more she watched, the more convinced she became that something unnatural was going on. So she put together a plan to get her Chloe back.

One afternoon, while they were sitting in the park, Chloe excused herself to use the restroom, leaving her purse behind. Anna’s heart pounded as she saw the cigarette box peeking out. This was her chance. Quickly, she rummaged through her own bag, pulling out a regular pack of cigarettes she had bought earlier, just in case. With trembling hands, she swapped them, slipping Chloe’s strange, never-ending box into her own pocket.

When Chloe returned, she didn’t notice a thing. She took out a cigarette from the new box and lit it, but Anna could tell immediately that something was different. Chloe seemed puzzled for a moment, almost repulsed by the cigarette she was smoking. Her confident demeanor wavering slightly as she took another drag.

"Em, is it ok if we call it a day? I'm not feeling to good at the moment." Chloe asked rather sheepishly.

"Oh yeah of course, just text me when you get back." Anna said hugging Chloe and feeling the familiar embrace back. That was when she knew she had done the right thing.

Anna walked home with a sense of relief, convinced that Chloe's strange transformation would soon reverse. She had done what she needed to do. As she stepped through the front door, she called out, "Hi, Mom!"

"Hi, honey," her mother, Debra, replied from the kitchen. But then her voice sharpened with concern, "What’s that in your pocket?"

Anna froze. In the rush of swapping the cigarette boxes, she had completely forgotten about the one she had slipped into her pocket. She had meant to toss it out on the way home but had totally forgot. Guilt prickled her skin as she pulled out the mysterious pack, holding it awkwardly in her hand.

"They're not mine I swear! They’re Chloe’s." Anna stammered, her voice faltering under her mother’s piercing gaze. But Debra wasn’t buying it.

"Anna, don’t lie to me. I didn’t raise you to be liar, or a smoker!" Her mother said, her tone both stern and disappointed. "You’re going to sit here and smoke every last one of those, then you’ll realize smoking isn’t so cool."

Anna’s heart dropped. She opened her mouth to protest, to explain everything, to say how the cigarettes were somehow magic but even as she thought it she knew how ridiculous it sounded. Plus once her mother set her mind to something, she wouldn't budge. Debra was already setting up an ashtray on the table, her expression unyielding.

Anna hesitantly took out a cigarette, her hands trembling. As she lit it and took a drag, she was surprised by the taste. It was sweet and smooth, not at all what she expected. She understood now why Chloe was so put off of the pack she had switched. The smoke felt oddly comforting as it filled Anna's lungs, leaving her feeling almost...good. Relaxed. She took another puff, sinking deeper into the sensation.

But as Anna exhaled, something odd began to happen. Unbeknownst to her or Debra, her fingernails started to lengthen, growing into a perfectly manicured set painted red. They gleamed with an unnatural sheen, elegant and sharp, as if they had always been that way. Anna, lost in the sweet smoke, didn’t even notice the transformation.

Anna finished the first cigarette, exhaling slowly as the sweet aftertaste lingered on her lips. "Can I go now?" She asked in a slightly bratty tone.

But Debra crossed her arms, her expression firm. "No. You’re going to smoke every cigarette in that box, just like I said."

Rolling her eyes, Anna took out another cigarette and lit it. As she brought it to her lips and took a deep drag, more changes began to take place. Her chest started to swell, gradually expanding beneath her shirt, still unnoticed by either her or Debra. The sensation was so gradual, so natural, that it didn’t register as anything unusual.

Meanwhile, as the nicotine worked its way through her system, Anna’s thoughts began to shift. She found herself caring less about her mother’s disapproval and more about how good she felt. A sense of superiority started to creep in, an arrogant voice in her mind whispering that she deserved to do whatever she wanted and fuck the consequences.

Her mother wasn’t the only growing irritation in her as she started to feel her eyes were blurring. Taking off her glasses she found to her wonder that her eyesight was sharper than it ever was.

Without waiting for her mother’s instruction, Anna reached for another cigarette and lit it with practiced ease. It was becoming second nature to her now, the act of smoking feeling as natural as breathing. She inhaled deeply, the sweet smoke filling her lungs with a comforting warmth.

As she exhaled, her thoughts of her mother darkened. "Who is she to tell me what to do?" Anna thought, the arrogance growing stronger within her. A wave of irritation washed over her as she glanced at Debra, her mind swirling with mean, dismissive thoughts. “She’s just a jealous old hag. She’ll never understand what it’s like to be this… perfect.”

As Anna continued to smoke, the changes in her body accelerated. Her hair began to grow longer and thicker until it cascaded down her back in luxurious waves. Her waist subtly tightened, drawing in to create a more pronounced hourglass figure. Meanwhile, her lips softened and plumped, taking on a fuller, more seductive shape that made her face look almost doll-like.

As Anna stubbed out her cigarette, she didn’t hesitate before pulling out yet another. She lit it with a smirk, her eyes gleaming with a newfound superiority as she looked at her mother. The changes within her had solidified, leaving little trace of the shy, nerdy girl she once was.

Debra, seeing her plan backfire, grew alarmed. “It’s okay, Anna. You can stop now.” She said, her voice tinged with fear and regret.

But Anna refused, a mocking smile playing on her now-plump lips. “Oh, no, Mommy, you were right. I do need to be punished.” She purred, her tone dripping with sarcasm. She took a long, deliberate drag. She curled her lips into an ‘o’ and puffed out a perfect circle. The ring rising about her head like a sinister halo.

As Anna inhaled deeply, the smoke seemed to take on a life of its own, swirling around her body before seeping into her clothes. The baggy t-shirt she wore began to tighten, the fabric transforming as if molded by the smoke itself. It shrank and shifted, morphing into a tight, revealing black bodycon dress that clung to her newly sculpted tits, accentuating every curve.

At the same time, her face began to change even more dramatically. Thick makeup appeared, as if applied by an invisible hand. Dark eyeshadow that made her eyes smolder, sharp eyeliner, and deep pink lipstick that highlighted her now-plump lips.

Anna looked over at the nearby mirror and for a moment panicked at what she saw. Staring back at her was a gorgeous brunette wrapped in the tightest outfit she had ever saw. This wasn’t the nerdy and weak girl she saw every morning, no this was a wicked bitch who commanded respect.

Her shocked expression soon turned into an evil grin as she took another drag of her cigarette. She had been right, it was the cigarettes after all. They had made her into everything she feared Chloe would become and she loved it. Chloe's transformation had been slow because she had been unknowingly pacing herself. Anna had been forced to corrupt herself she was glad she had.

As Anna grabbed another cigarette and put it between her perfect lips, Debra reached out and snatched the box of cigarettes from Anna’s hand. She had finally clocked the transformation in her daughter. “That’s enough.” She said, her voice trembling with both fear and desperation. But as she glanced inside the box, her heart skipped a beat, it was still full, as if none of the cigarettes had been smoked at all.

Anna watched her mother’s reaction with a cold, detached amusement. She sat with her legs crossed, taking another drag out of her cigarette. “Give them back.” She said, her voice dripping with a calm, almost lazy menace.

“No, Anna! We need to find someone who can help you. This isn’t right, none of this is right.” Debra insisted, clutching the box tightly.

Anna’s expression remained unchanged as she let out a soft sarcastic sigh. She took a long, deliberate drag from her cigarette, exhaling a thick plume of smoke directly into her mother’s face. The smoke curled around Debra, who gasped and coughed as it invaded her lungs, forcing its way into her system.

“I said, give those back, Debra.” Anna repeated, her tone icy and commanding. Her use of her mother’s first name was chilling.

Debra’s resistance crumbled under the weight of Anna’s words. Her hands, once so firm in their grip on the cigarette box, trembled as she slowly extended it back to Anna. She didn’t understand why, but she felt compelled, almost powerless to do anything else. With a shaky breath, she handed the box over, her heart heavy with dread as she realized how much control she had lost.

Anna took the box in her long nailed hand, taking out another cigarette and lighting it off of the still unfinished one in her hand. She looked at the new cigarette light up with a subtle flash of pink. Somehow she knew that this would cause whoever smoked it to become her slave.

“Here Debbie, take a nice long drag.” Anna said holding out the cigarette for her mother to take. Again Debra felt incapable of refusing. Anna smirked darkly to herself as her mother reluctantly begin to smoke. Casually flipping over the box of cigarettes in her hand, she read the warning she hadn't noticed before, 'Contains Bitchotine.'

[ruggiezz]

— CHRISTMAS SPIRIT : twisted wonderland

[synopsis] they couldn’t go back home for the holidays, so how do they spend them with you?

[characters] ace, riddle, kalim, vil, malleus

[content warnings] food is mentioned

★﹕ACE TRAPPOLA — building a snowman

The streets were decorated with colorful lights, lamp posts had ribbons wrapped around them, and kids were running around playing with the snow. You could tell it was Christmas season from a mile away just by looking at the huge Christmas tree that decorated the park.

Even if it was around 7 pm, the streets were full of people shopping at the last hour. The windows of the stores were all advertising discounts to get more sales, from expensive items to affordable ones. 

Ace had already bought your gift weeks ago. It was something you mentioned you wanted once, you probably had forgotten about it, but he had saved for months just to see the smile on your face when you opened it.

While walking to a cafe Cater recommended, you saw some kids making a snowman together in a nearby park while their parents chatted while sitting on a bench. Grabbing Ace's hand, you rushed to a spot in the park and rolled some snow to make the body. He protested at first but he got to work almost immediately.

Helping you decorate it was the fun part. He collected some pebbles while you continued molding it. As he decorated the face so it would look like it was frowning, he laughed at you for protesting about the facial expression. Ace said it was ‘the best snowman in the park’ and that you both ‘won against those kids’. You grabbed your scarf and wrapped it around the snowman, claiming it was so it wouldn't 'feel cold'.

Sadly, you forgot the weather was below 0°; but before you could even say something or complain, you felt Ace wrapping his red scarf carefully around your neck.

“Sheesh, I’m your boyfriend, and you’re favoring a snowman over me. I'm going to freeze now, you know? …I'm just teasing, let's go or we won't find any tables available.”

★﹕RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS — decorating a gingerbread house

Usually, Sam makes Christmas sales in the Mystery shop around December, but this year it made a huge fuss because of the new items he added. The students that stayed in school grounds were buying almost everything, so you thought you could check it out. 

All the items were eye-catching, but a particular gingerbread house set stood out the most. It was selling fast, and you wanted one, so why wouldn't you buy one to decorate with your boyfriend?

Riddle couldn't say he was surprised when you showed up in his room with a box of frosting sleeves and gingerbread walls. A few Heartslabyul students who stayed too bought some sets and decorated them in the common areas (and that got them collared, which made them have to go to their own rooms or the cafeteria tables). He thought about it and decided to give it a try, since he wanted to spend time with you and he already finished his book of crosswords.

His side of the gingerbread house looks neat, exactly like a model a company would use in an advertisement, following the instructions carefully paid off. Your side looks slightly messy, with the frosting dripping on the sides and some of the candy falling off. The best way to describe it would be like an earthquake happened, and it only affected half the house. But Riddle still liked it; he could see the effort you put into it; you could even say he felt fond of it.

Riddle had a lot of fun decorating and spending time with you. You handed him the colorful chocolate candy package as he gave the final touches on the ceiling.

It wasn't the perfect house, but it was one made by the both of you.

“It isn’t tidy or neat, yet it has a certain charm to it... Don't put frosting on my face!”

★﹕KALIM AL-ASIM — singing christmas carols

He really likes spoiling you, and you could tell that he was planning something big due to how big his grin had been since December started.

Kalim promised to walk you to Ramshackle after the end of your classes, promising to spend the rest of the day with you. He even finished his homework for the end of the break early so Jamil couldn't object!

The second the bell that indicated the start of winter break rings, Kalim rushes out of the classroom, going straight to the stairs so he could go meet you on another floor. Jamil had to yell at him from a distance to not walk too quickly or he would slip and fall off the stairs. Kalim looks like an excited puppy waiting for you in the hallway, wanting to receive that kiss you always give him as s greeting, it's the best part of his day.

He grabs your hand and starts walking to Ramshackle, excitedly telling you about his plans for the both of you for the winter break, talking about the gifts he will send to his siblings, and about the meal you can both have on the 25th. When the both of you run out of conversation topics, Kalim just hums the melody of a carol, swinging the arm, holding your hand back and forth, and walking as quick as he could.

Kalim looks back at you, giving you the brightest smile he can physically make, and asks you to sing along with him. He'll teach you the lyrics. Or maybe, if you want to, you can both sing carols from your world.

He's just a big fan of carols; he even tells you about how Jamil and he sang them together every Christmas when they were kids. He would love the idea of being able to sing with you together; he wants to know more about you and the traditions in your world.

“Come on, let’s sing together! We can be like a duo; it’ll be so much fun!”

★﹕VIL SCHOENHEIT — watching christmas movies

As soon as he found out you were staying at the school grounds during the holidays, he invited you to stay in Pomefiore. Vil can't have you getting sick or getting your skin dry; the coldness of the environment wasn't good for anyone's skin.

Vil arranged a room for you with all the necessary things you could need, even preparing a set of expensive pajamas he bought for you as an early gift, yet you still sneaked at night to sleep in his bed. It's not like he was complaining; it helped him sleep better at night. You are made to go to sleep early anyway, sleeping is important to maintain your natural beauty.

The second day you opened in your laptop the huge catalog of the (expensive) streaming service you bought especially for the holidays. You asked Vil to watch some Christmas movies with you and he agreed. He knew you weren't familiar with this world's iconic movies, so he would act as your guide.

The both of you made it a habit to sit in his bed a few hours before bedtime and watch some Christmas movies. You played a movie he recommended or that caught your eye, got comfortable, laid your head on his shoulder, and he got to speak about his thoughts on the actor's performance. This was the routine you both followed every day. But one particular movie caught your eye—one he starred in months before entering NRC.

It was good; it was a rom-com where he starred as a side character. You found yourself watching it multiple times, even in his absence. It was a movie with a good plot, your boyfriend starred in it, and he got to talk about the behind the scenes. It was a win-win.

“Did you enjoy my performance, hm? My acting is always on point; expect nothing but the best from me.”

★﹕MALLEUS DRACONIA — sharing hot chocolate

Since Malleus stayed behind because he wanted to spend the holidays with you, that meant the rest of the Diasomnia family did too, so they were all invited to a Christmas sleepover at Ramshackle. And he could never decline an invitation, especially from you.

Sebek was delighted to drink something sweet, just like Grim, who was happy to be able to eat whatever he wanted. Lilia was reminiscing over old memories of when they were younger, like a proud father would, and Silver was listening and adding more to what Lilia was saying.

There was something comforting about the heat coming from the mug he was holding and the sweater you bought specially for him. Malleus has never been sensitive to the cold weather, but the warmth he felt in his heart seeing how well you got along with important people in his life was more than welcomed. It was simple—nothing like the fancy celebrations at his castle back home—just the six of you spending time together while chatting about anything.

It wasn't a foreign feeling; he often felt this way around you, but he could never get enough of it. He smiled at you as you refilled Sebek's mug, who was discussing with Silver about their childhood memories, while you listened intently, clearly interested. Lilia noticed Malleus staring at you and teased him about it, but Malleus only smiled proudly at him and kept drinking from his mug; some of the marshmallows you added to his cup sinking to the bottom.

If any other student witnessed it, they would be speechless over how Malleus Draconia, the scary prince nobody wants to anger, was so content drinking hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows in a snowman mug. But they would be even more speechless if they saw the tender way he looked at you.

“This night has been nothing but delightful; you surprise me more and more every day. I want nothing more than to make more memories like this with you.”

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

Just thinking about an alternative universe where Steve went to Russia instead of Hopper.

Steve, who survived the Russians down in the bunker with Robin ends up going home alone that night. Or sometime within the next few days. Unlike Robin, those who tortured him had seen some potential in him. The girl didn’t know anything, obviously, but the guy? He had seen something before all of this. It was in the way he acted, the way he threw himself in front of Robin to save here. Young teenage boys never did that.

So it doesn’t take them long to figure out who he is. His names Steve, so they go to the phone books. Flipping through white pages and finding every Steve in the book. Having a guy scout out each Steve, and looking around town to find the one they wanted. And when they finally spot Steve, he’s going in to family video for a job interview. So they follow him home, where he is by himself. Both his parents on a work trip.

They have a guy break into the house discreetly, and are quick to fix to the lock so it doesn’t look like anyone did. They snatch Steve out of his bed and shove him on a plane.

That’s how Steve finds himself in a ring for the first time. With only a few weapons to fight the demogorgan coming out of the cage. He doesn’t know what’s happening but he has to survive. He takes down every demogorgan and is slowly beginning to learn how to speak Russian from fellow inmates. All who treat him with a lot of respect.

As time goes by, Steve gets scrawny. Not a whole lot of muscle left and his tan changes to more of a pale color. His hair was shaved because of lice and he’s slowly becoming an entirely different person.

Currently back home, Dustin, Robin and the others are desperately trying to find him. Hopper has been on the case for months and nothing has been found. Not until a mysterious package appears at Hoppers cabin with a doll hand made to look like Eleven with a tiny note in Russian hidden in the folded parts of the box telling him it was from Steve.

That’s how Hopper, Murray and Joyce all end up adventuring to Russia. Somehow getting Steve out and safe. Hopper hides him in a discreet location. He sets him up in reefer ricks house, which shouldn’t have anybody living in there because Rick was currently doing time.

No one should be going there, but Steve is skittish and ends up meeting Eddie Munson. The guy who comes up here from time to time to make sure the house is fine. And well if Eddie ends up bringing supplies for Steve as well, and sneaking him to his trailer to hang out from time to time. Hopper doesn’t need to know.

Just a fic where Eddie pretty much helps Steve regain color and weight, and being the only ounce of normalcy for him up until season 4. When they are hiding out together and Dustin comes looking for Eddie to only get a two in one package and tackled by two scared and traumatized men. (He can’t breathe properly for at least twenty four hours after and both Steve and Eddie are waiting on him hand and foot.)

[relax-and-read-on]

I have not made made a generic hc post about the primarch in a LONG time. I miss it, and it's good for the warhammer tumblr ecosystem. So, without further waiting....

Primarch, and the absolutely shitty gifts they give each others for a White Elephants gift exchange

Roboute: A classic coffee mug (primarch sized!) Filled with sweets and a indestructible fancy fountain pen. The mug say "World Most Okay Dad" on it, and he joke that it apply to them all.

Lion: a stuffed bird. The number of eyes on it is vaguely unnerving. It's unclear wich way is the head suppose to go, and all agree that it's probably an awful mutant bird. Lion is too proud to admit that it's just a really shotty taxidermy he made himself.

Alpharius Omegon: They give a series of mysterious CD in blank case, wich is a very rare and hard to read format on most ship! It's the entire series of MLP:FiM, famous lost media in the 30th millenium.

Rogal: A thick, sturdy, and perfectly elegant multi bit screwdriver, with extra standard bits put in the handle. Give a proud presentation on it, explaining it's superior design and all it's ergonomic features. It's 45 min long.

Perturabo: it's a coupon that say "one (1) construction from me and my legion, free of complaining. Valid until the 31th millenium." It's the most popular gift of the night.

Corvus: slipper and kigurumi, all crow themed. They are *adorable*. Sadly, the size is a bit tight and vaguely indecent on the more muscular primarch.

Lorgar: a traditional colchian tea set, with hand dried craft teas! The set is beautiful, and the teas prove to be only mildly hallucinogenic.

Konrad: A very, VERY pretty embroidered set of throw pillow! They have delicate pattern of flower and nature imagery... And are made with human hair. Konrad is very proud of himself, and even more of the absolute bloody screaming his gift create when he explain it.

Sanguinius: put out by Konrad's gift, but he also made a pillow, but this one filled with his own feathers. Has surprising property against nightmare.

Vulkan: He was actually sweet, and brought homemade hot sauce, his mother's recipe! The problem is that the stuff is so strong, it's considered a dangerous chemical in most of the galaxy. Can be used as jet fuel.

Horus: Edible sexy underwear. Insist that whoever gets it has to wear it, and jokingly say that, if they are too shy, he can do a demonstration himself.

Mortarion: a succulent growing kit. Even his most dumbasses of brother should be able to keep a succulent alive, right? Doesn't mention that it's an highly invasive species that will colonise the entire ship of his poor victime.

Jaghatai: a foal. Yes, he carry a whole ass live animal to the gift exchange, and keep insisting that it's an appropriate gift. The horse is chewing on Magnus' hair.

Leman: Mad that he didn't think of bringing a puppy, but he has the most amazing looking collection of smoked salmon, caviar and preserved fish to offer.

Magnus: his patience is wearing thin, but he still offer a perfectly beautiful robe, that act as an honest to good mood ring and change color depending on the person's aura.

Fulgrim: A painting of himself! Wich is actually a joke, it's just a thin and hand painted decorative paper covering the true gift: a painting of all their family, together. Get called a try hard.

Ferrus: a collection of very pretty crystals and fossils! Wich he arranged in a chocolate box, and explain that those are his favorite flavors.

Angron: A punching bag that even *he* find durable. He made sure of it, by thoroughly testing it before giving it out, wich explain it's used appearance.

I know exactly who gets what..... Yall want to know in a part 2 ;)?