Ludi Lin for Kore 2018 Annual Issue
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clownzels:
“ I told my mom I was cramming in extra training after school . she’d blow a gasket if she knew I was skippin’ out on helpin’ out at home t’ eat burgers . ” maraschino deftly plucked from atop her shake , she’ll pop it ‘tween parted tiers , whipped cream licked from her fingers . harleen can envision it now / distasteful frown would undoubtedly form ‘pon sharon quinzel’s mien , acerbic bite to her lilt as she'd tell her daughter ‘ you’ve changed since you started spending time with that mantle boy ’ once again . harleen only wishes she could tell her to change the damn record . — nonetheless , the�� blonde could not in good conscience deny that she had changed since moving from bensonhurst to riverdale . the facade she had worked tirelessly to cultivate of the perfect daughter , the one who dutifully did as she was told , doing all she could to keep the house straight & her brothers in line , was starting to slip . entire adolescence thus far had been spent dedicated to her future , to securing dream college scholarship ( it was the only way she would ever be free ! ) ; always studying hard , always favouring squeezing in additional gymnastics training over time at the mall with her friends — who could blame her for now , in her senior year , just wanting to live in the moment a little ? gaze comes to settle ‘pon company , carmine brims curving as faint smile blooms ‘pon fair countenance . “ you’re a bad influence , reggie mantle . — say , you’re comin’ to my competition saturday , right ? ”
you can almost hear how his eyes roll with the turn of his head. he sits expectantly on the hood of his corvette, waiting for the excuses to end. ❝ yeah, no shit. she’s also the same woman who called me a menace to society. what does she know. ❞ a careless shrug off of pointed comment, shaking off unoriginal criticism. ever the adonis with a god-complex, thinking he was god’s (or whoever the fuck’s) gift to the world. no, humanity. he wasn’t concerned with rules nor standards and makes no effort to conceal it. in fact, it’s his brand. ❝ i’m just saying— parents hate me ‘cuz they ain’t me. but fine. i’ll just plot mrs. grundy’s demise. on my own. with two strawberry milkshakes to myself. mmm. ❞ a compelling offer made known by raised brows, ones that know they can easily persuade and appeal to a mind as diabolical as his. the two had formed some kind of connection over their humor, able to laugh at the expense of others without grief. takes one to know one.
competition’s mention is met again with raised brows, though pulled by a different, special interest. given away by creeping smile. sure he’s there for “moral support,” whatever that means yada yada yada, but who is reggie mantle, a teenage boy with an easily tempted attention span, without his ulterior motives. ❝ i’ll see if i can pencil you in. ‘m sure i could make time to watch hot girls do somersaults on a saturday. — not that i have nothing better to do, i just might happen to have an opening. ❞ almost let that slip. god forbid he make time for friends. or let people know he cares.
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reggie’s instagram : 003 / ??? suit edition.
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holding a tray full of home-made cupcakes, betty appears before him with a genuine smile, one brow raised slightly as she offers her gift. " happy birthday, reg! i know it's nothing super expensive, but they're baked with love. " as all betty's baked goods were, but these birthday cupcakes in particular have each been iced with a red heart and his name on top. " they're all red velvet, with a melted chocolate middle. don't eat them all at once! "
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting. ft. @mythite
SHE ALWAYS LEFT HIM FULL. heart & stomach & soul. at the rate she gives, indebted to everyone’s life she touches. side effect from a heart far bigger than her body, he knew. compared to he who was said not to have one at all. an image people clung to of a menace who laughed at suffering juxtaposed by a saint who’s only dream was to make the world brighter. he didn’t have to wonder what people saw when they stood side by side. cooper & mantle. good vs. evil. meant to be kept apart. it still shocks you every time. that she comes back to you. same girl that berated you as a child, called you cruel & unworthy. you don’t have to remember when you believed her. because you still do. maybe that’s why you didn’t expect the gesture. perhaps that’s why you struggle to find the two words that sum it all up, even a tonuge of your caliber unfamiliar to simple phrase : thank you.
still, he had an image to uphold. souring of features, feigning as if he finds himself at odds : an athlete on a strict diet, meals planned at the beginning of every week. nothing less than perfection for star quarterback stared down by his favorite flavor of dessert, right down to the cream cheese frosting. crafted by hands of master chef in the making, her blue eyes shining optimistically up at he, the skeptic . right down to icing’s swirl atop cake. in the shape of hearts, no less. geez. ———— then again what stranger is he to cutting corners. coach clayton didn’t have to know, right ? tug of lips’ edge, eyes flickering between saccharine treat & its maker. ❝ ooooh, you kill me, cooper. my diet is telling me no, but my body is telling me yes. ❞ cant of head, swish of cheeks as if deliberating life & death. facade soon dropped at easy choice.
❝ ah fuck it. tell you what, cooper: i’ll accept your goods. but only if you feed ‘em to me. no exceptions. ❞ perhaps taking advantage of kindness, knowing she’s not one to decline. but all in good fun. ruffle of blonde hair by his fingers as he takes glassware with ease. a dish he’d be eating warm in fourth period ( & sharing with no one. typical, villainous behavior ). he holds it comically as a butler would, balanced perfectly over fingertips, eyebrows raised expectantly. a point to mouth, as if contents had anywhere else to go. ❝ i’m waiting, betts. ❞
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY REGGIE FUCKING MANTLE. via sweet pea insta.
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"happy birthday, dickhead- are we getting plastered or what? damn..." -from ronnie!!!!
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting. ft. @acidicbite
��TALK ABOUT A GREETING. a voice he’d know with his eyes closed. the jump from behind onto his shoulders, forearms catch the back of her knees to balance her on leather back. she’s lucky he’s shredded, isn’t she grunt at weight’s toll, usually not a problem when not sprung via ambush. still, he keeps pace after momentary stumble, strained laugh in continued hold. ❝ like you even have to ask. i cracked the lock on dad’s liquor cabinet. trust me : we’re locked & loaded. ❞ drop of form, watching as she falls in step. fingers that splay, held up in front of him in laying out his master plan. an evil genius at work.
a finger pointed to emphasize multiple points. ❝ i’m thinking sushi, slasher films & sativa. in that order. or. us, some cartons of eggs & an entire neighborhood of houses at our disposal. so we’ve got options. ❞ he’s already pulled the dvd’s from coveted collection, an endless cache of the movies that kept him company. a combination of classics ( oldies but goodies ) & newer hits ( great special effects ) . pet sematary, nightmare on elm, it, —— along with the insidious series and lights out. the same discs he spun at the age of 14, when he was too young to understand though old enough to be exposed. unlike most, he lived for the laughs they gave him, the comical screams & gore. it was all so hilarious to him ! she was one of the only people on this earth not horrified by his fascination for whatever reason. if they played their cards right, they could watch all of them before the sun comes up. add ronnie’s jumpy nature into the mix & a clown mask he’s got hiding somewhere & you’ve got the perfect night.
a pause, awaiting her input, checking notifications on phone briefly before hearing three, sexy words : WHY NOT BOTH ? gaze lifts, lips curl into cheeks, pulling back to reveal pearly whites. an arm thrown around to hold dear friend close, the combining of minds for greater solution. a chef’s kiss by joined fingers to respond, almost proud of his pranking apprentice. ❝ i like the way you think. you’re on. be at mine by 9. or i’m starting without you. ❞ playful smile before crossing path, headed to last class before lunch. a look like that of a parent telling their kid to be home by curfew. aint no rest for the wicked.
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she seemingly appears from nowhere, playfully tapping his left shoulder and moving round his right side with a giggle. tucked under sabrina's arm, she held a long but thin black box, tied with a perfect red bow. " happy birthday, reggie! hopefully, this is the perfect present for you! " within the box, there's a leather jacket that matches the red of her usual coat, crafted by her own magic. a quick kiss is pressed to his cheek. " have a great day! "
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting. ft. @mythite
CLOTHES. HIS MOST FAVORED VICE. & boy, does he like his leather. a walk - in closet that needed no additions, but still always got updated. the pull of silk bow, prompting its fall from the box it clings to. a present opened excitedly feeling its weight to reveal statement piece beneath tissue. fingers are quick to hold garment up, its beauty bringing him out of his seat. awe - struck at quality, premium brand. red wasn’t usually his color. like many he’s married to blacks and whites. though its bold, like himself. fiery & aggressive. sensual but sweet. all at the same time. prolonged whistle, admiring jacket before he slips it on before full - body mirror. adjustment of shoulders & lapels, fitting over like a glove. hugging in all the right places. smoothing of sideburns with palms edge, a new obsession found in reflection. almost forgets the gifter’s presence. you know you’ve done it when he’s gone this quiet, further in love with himself than he already is. a feat no one knew possible. mission accomplished, blondie.
❝ 'brina, you’ve outdone yourself this time. ❞ lick of thumb before it meets loose strands of hair——— his best danny zuko smolder to the party of one in the mirror. hell, call him the cherry - picked james dean. turn of body, seeking angles. every single one of them gorgeously enhanced by new favorite. hit a pose there, strike another there. hands on hips, stuffed in pockets. not a single bad side in sight. ❝ i look hot. i mean, literally. ❞ stroke of leather down sleeve, imitating burn’s hiss. ❝ goddamn i can rock anything, can’t i ? ❞
it’s not til minutes later after self - celebration that he returns to her, swagger’s step bringing them close. an earned kiss planted against lips to match jacket, generous hold on cheeks to guide. gratitude comes best this way, in tender moments. ❝ we gonna match today at school or what ? we’re already late, may as well make it fashionable. ❞
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HEATHER JUST SIDE-EYES this birthday boy SOOO HARD.....
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting ft. @hethr
DON’T START A WAR YOU CAN’T WIN, BABY. a side-eye of equal, actually greater caliber, shot back at stare down’s initiator. a disdain already developed by simple gesture. perhaps jealous of fawning fans on christened birthday. either way. he couldn’t have such disrespect. pointing of nose to sky as it scrunches. a tongue now bitter, but still sharp : ❝ ——— take a picture, it’ll last longer, princess. consider yourself lucky: i won't charge you. this time. ❞
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' happy birthday, reggie! ' ♡
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting ft. @hesails
quirk of brow before attention is grabbed by semi - familiar face. a warranted greeting but he can’t help as confusion overtakes him. vagueness clouds thought, a look behind as if the exclamation was meant for someone else. not of bashfulness, but rather pure perplexmxent. is this guy talking to me ? bluntness reigns supreme, feeling particularly on - brand this fine morning. a look that is anything but forgiving even upon innocent wish. he wastes no time with insulting words, cutting through pause with ease. ❝ sorry. who are you again. ❞
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"It's your birthday. Apologies to your mom."
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting. ft. @joneshead
AH, HOW PAINFULLY UNORIGINAL. roll of eyes as they’re pulled from phone & a sigh of fake exhaustion. as if he wasn’t expecting such a characterized greeting. a mocking exclamation of pain, pretending words sting. ❝ lions don’t lose sleep over the opinions of sheep. translation : get off my dick, jones. besides. i don’t think gladys would like the thought of you being mean to the birthday boy, now would she ? ❞
baseless statement though uttered nevertheless. not like the “mom” mentioned was around to accept such condolences. out of the country on a business trip with richard. not even so much as a phone call, though he’s sure he’ll get one as fashionably late as always. but that’s besides the point. ❝ but because i’m feeling generous : you can still come to my party tonight. we’re havin’ a bonfire tonight—— could use your stupid hat to keep the flame going. ❞ bump of shoulder, harsh & intentional, before snickering on his way out. an iconic exit, if you ask him.
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delphi is egging his house for his birthday . happy birthday bitch .
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting. ft. @arcaieco
a night on the town, nothing out of the ordinary for riverdale’s villain. he’d gone on a trip to the movies, party of one as usual to treat himself to not one ——— but three features ( theater hopping saves coins ! ) little does he know of the surprise waiting for him when white corvette pulls into driveway. he almost doesn’t catch it, eyes glued to phone’s light , only glancing up by pure chance to surpise that awaits alongside ghastly girl on the front steps. a portrait painted in headlights. a connection easily made, crime to criminal : no time wasted guessing. a moment of silence as car’s lock sounds.
❝ ho—ly shit … ❞ slow pace as he approaches newly - decorated home. a mansion dripping in yolks, vandalizing its many windows that shine against the moonlight — how’d she even get ‘em on the roof ? a mess that would take days to clean up. a hybrid of shock & awe crosses features, a rare occurrence before him. most normally didn’t dare prank the prank king, one infamous for his brutal retaliation. instillment of fear normally acting as a safeguard. though the girl was never easily intimidated, least of all by him. the turn of body to culprit, condemning at first :
❝ my parents are gonna be so pissed … they’re probably gonna take my keys for a month, … no, a year … ❞ shock melts into enthusiasm, a smile as wide as his ears spreading in an instant as fists ball with child - like glee. he knows of her malicious intent, her goal to grind his gears, but she’s failed miserably this time. it’s SIMPLE & OLD - FASHIONED. yet effective & hard to undo. masterful pranking if he’d ever seen it. ingenius, even ! though he’d never tell her that. the only ego allowed inflation was his own. one more look at astonishing masterpiece, laugh bubbling from lips, before returning to her.
❝ ———— I LOVE IT ! god, i can already see the looks on their faces. richard’s gonna go nuts ! hell, victoria’ll probably start crying—— ha ! best birthday gift ever ! ❞ delight continues, clutch of stomach at cackle’s eruption, watching expression sour from satisfaction. how was she to know he thrived off of pissing his parents off ? she couldn’t have prepared for someone to be ecstatic over his own house being vandalized ——— what a twist ! the throw of arm around her, overly friendly as he continues to look at her work with her alongside. a smile as bright as the moon above. after all : he had a copy of the keys to his benz for cases like this. tightening of hold, a grunt of passion for his excitement. ❝ just when i was starting to think you reeeaaaally hated me. ❞ emboldened is he to go as far as to kiss crown in excitement, further thanks. the spoiling of intention, he can’t help but do what he does best : ruin it all ! what can he say : she’s really outdone herself this time !
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lover.
happy birthday / @divainity
when did words become spoiled? as if sung too many times with liquored voices & thrown off keys. you’ve often pondered when the time would come. where heart melted against touch. head dizzy by the excitement of something other than bitterness. he was everything that made no sense. the way voice spoke to others. condemning animosity with pearl lined smile. like presence didn’t hold up in world of spite. everyone wanted a touch. even if lasting a moment. one far too long even by devils clock. did they bite into the apple of corruption ? watching as earth fell apart against diamond clad ring. every sin had a moment of salvation. where angels played a harmony of sympathy. sick dumb fools. you’ve turned into a love sick fool yourself. like those before you. a long written list of past despair. it started minuscule. denial was always the first stage. daydreams that left body in cold sweat. where sleep turned into memories of interactions. second stage. pasting polaroids around scrap metal. his pictures. that smile that sent you straight to the moon & back. was this what it was like to live in a fantasy land. where pretend was rewarded with marks of devotion. do you hate the feeling? a collapsing of lungs when he wasn’t around. when presence become unbearable. he became a part of you. every ragged breath wanted to avenge a weakness. others looked at it as an act of misery. popular reign taking broken bird under his wing. but the other never looked at you in such light. as if wanting to trade spots. sketch is immaculate as if painted by artist offering a grand total of wealth. your mother always told you gift was represented in nimble fingers not clad fist. maybe he helped you realize this. envelope slipped into decorated locker before heading to class.
𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚋𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚍𝚊𝚢 ! 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢. 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝚒 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚢. 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎. 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛.
𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎,
𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜. 𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚗𝚘 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜.
𝙽. 𝙼
even apart, he’s within you. will you ever stop telling yourself that story ? the one that debunks non - existent myth. that he's too good to be true. most days you felt nothing. but this day was destined, calculated to communicate worth to a world that doesn’t understand you. demonize you. but it didn’t matter when you were carried by a parade of bulldogs, sitting high atop their shoulders. a chorus of praise by loyal subjects echo down the halls. riverdale high woke just for your birthday, when you were born with a crown too heavy for your little head. one that still sits lopsided over raven crown. his face nowhere to be found. the boys had something in store for you, their fearless leader. though, not before a pit stop at locker. the yank of door to reveal usual view, two mirrors placed strategically in coveted locker. one on the door & one inside : he, himself, was the decoration, though a polaroid of his lover recently joined. how fitting that beloved view was shadowed by rectangle’s shape. a look down hall, searching for messenger as fingers hold paper like glass. to no avail. the suspense as he wonders who the sender might be, nearly tearing envelope’s contents in half. graphite art on parchment freed from casing. a countenance that matched your reflections. seems that now you had three. til heart no longer beats. yours stops for a second. masterpiece held to its inspiration, near mirrors to compare. a smirk pulled into cheek to mimic the one given to his likeness. a picture completed. stroke of chin while you admire resemblance, gaze flicking to and fro. narcissus ruling you, even when made speechless. c’mon birthday boy, let’s go ! smartphone fished from jeans, bringing paper beside cheek. flip of camera to capture himself, as he’s used to. a face scrunched for comical purpose. hurry it up, mantle ! alright, alright ! bump of steel door by elbow, paper tucked safely into covert pocket. thumbs typing furiously in game of catch up.
[ SMS | 9:07 AM ] : [ IMAGE ATTACHMENT ]
[ SMS | 9:07 AM ] : got your gift stalker.
[ SMS | 9:08 AM ] : you’re right. i’m much hotter in person
[ SMS | 9:09 AM ] : but it’s a valiant effort. it’ll look good on my selfie wall.
[ SMS | 9:10 AM ] : love you baby. see you tonight ?
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oh, was it somebody’s birthday? midge takes a seat in the boy’s lap, coy smile and loving eyes. “Happy birthday, baby! I got you something!” hands over a small box containing an engraved keyring for his car keys, and a mixtape of their songs. “and there’s something lacy under this skirt for you too..... but only for the birthday king’s eyes”
❲ REGGIE’S BIRTHDAY ❳ : always accepting. ft. @mythite
HE’D NEVER ADMIT HOW MUCH HE LIKED THE SOUND OF THAT. baby. he remembers when he only ever heard her say that in his dreams. the ones where mason wasn’t there, when he was the hero of her story. the ones he had every night without a heavy conscious. imagining what it would be like to call her his. replaying their little moments in his head like a movie, his favorite feature behind his eyelids. he hated the mornings because they kept him from her.
but now they brought them together. mason was still there, but she’d finally chosen him after all these years. she claimed him now with the width of her hips on his. a moment to soak it up, reality’s sweetness. hands quick to plant themselves around waist, body fitting right into his hands in being claimed as a seat. a perfect fit, every time, before taking wrapped box from painted fingertips. a faint smile at material present. gaze locks with hers, leaning until lips meet once or twice. a mouth sweet like apple pie, as she’d say. he’s not even tugged at bow’s ribbon before gift’s other half is revealed.
eyes drop to short skirt in question, somehow forgetting the box for just a moment. temptation’s vicious grip on his mind prevails, what a boy he is. ❝ oh, baby, you shouldn’t have… ❞ translation: thank god you did. still, he can’t resist box’s lure, curious to know what she’s spoiled him with. the tug of mouth’s corner at silver & its companion. eyes bright and wide. ❝ i love it. ❞ gift set aside on bench, hands returning to their natural resting place, this time sliding below hips until he’s teasing hem’s edge. admiring what’s his.
another kiss, longer this time, tongue just poking past lips before moving to her ear. a whisper, hot & heavy. ❝ is it the red set i bought you ? ❞ the slide of fingers up thigh, meant to increase anticipation and make impatience known. elastic is found, from the straps hugging skin. all the confirmation he needed. what do you mean, they’re in public ? ❝ as birthday boy, i say we skip class so i can see it for myself. y’know, since it is my gift. ❞ slight squeeze, nails digging into hidden skin beneath pleats, leaning back as if nothing happened. combing gaze remains, already undressing the other with his eyes over what was better than any dream.
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kinkle - winkle.
* DIVAINITY . / 001 .
𝘕𝘌𝘙𝘝𝘖𝘜𝘚 𝘓𝘈𝘜𝘎𝘏. 𝘚𝘞𝘌𝘈𝘛𝘠 𝘗𝘈𝘓𝘔𝘚. 𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘉𝘖𝘠 𝘏𝘈𝘚 𝘈 𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘋 𝘖𝘕 𝘏𝘐𝘔. in any other situation , on any other night , harvey could hold it together . only now an attractive boy from riverdale has his arm around him . try as he might , harvey can’t help but tense up at the sudden physical contact . this moment was alarmingly off - brand for the version of reggie mantle he had heard of over the years . riverdale’s resident bad boy doing harvey a favor ? what alternate universe had he unknowingly stumbled into ?
THE SELF - CONGRATULATORY ATTITUDE calmed his suspicions . perhaps reggie was just being kind ? ( an even more confusing thought ) anxious hands reach for his milkshake but he’s beaten to it . eyes follow the lips that take a drink , they linger a little too long . a deep breath and weak smile , ❝ thanks , reggie . ❞ it lacks the special flare of reggie’s suggestion but there’s no shortage of sincerity .
❝ ––––– seriously . i don’t know what i would’ve done . ❞ a pause . brown eyes lock onto the other’s gaze . ❝ those guys are total assholes . so . . . thank you . ❞
profuse thanks & admission of his power : a duet of music to his ears. he hums something of satisfaction around straw, a drawn out note, unnecessary at best. ❝ atta - boy, that’s more like it, kinkle. ❞ removal of hand over boy’s chest only to clap him hard on the shoulder shortly after. a comical performance of affirmation to hide furthered arrogance before arm rests not far behind, on booth’s back. something about flustering harvey even though he was already so easily flustered brought him joy, enlarged his ego just that much more. enough to feed the fire & make him a repeat offender.
eyebrows raise as lips part from straw to continue : ❝ y’know, someone really oughta teach you some manners. ❞ hypocrisy at its finest, without shame. lips close around striped straw, still sipping his declared compensation. strawberries are sweeter when they’re stolen, he thinks. a crime against strict athlete’s diet, betrayal to the team his blue and gold letterman represents. but no one had to know right ?
❝ you know what this means though, right ? ❞ the finishing of dairy - indulgent delight, the gurgle of straw to indicate drink’s end. a gesture nearly as selfish as his next statement. a subtle lean in, closer to the hues that lock with his. another glance over, silent assertion from greedy eyes. a look that could only be bad news. ❝ you owe me one. ❞
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Have any of you morphed before?
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