#i got to do an egg project in elementary school :)

[oneforthemunny]

Can I please request teacher reader buying Eddie flowers, or something that is low-key but ends up bringing him to tears because he feels so loved?

(He’s also totally the guy who saves every piece of the kids art from finger paintings to their little projects from school)

I hope you're ready for pain bitches (and by pain I mean such tender sweetness it will bring tears to your eyes)

It was a small promotion. Eddie had brushed it off like it was nothing, focusing more on the pay raise and diminishing the rest, but you wouldn't hear it. Squealing and wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tight to you as you rocked him back and forth with pure glee.

The superintendent had wanted to meet with Eddie, a fact that only a few hours earlier had him wracked with anxiety. Instead of the impending doom of being "let go" like he'd worried himself sick about, it was the opposite. A promotion.

The school needed to hire a maintenance worker for the middle school too, but the budget was tight. Not enough to pay an entire other salary, but enough to promote Eddie to janitor of the elementary school kids, and do some oddball maintenance work for them too. He supposed the time in the shop with Wayne had helped, the pay increase showed him that. The superintendent boasting on him about what a great job he did, they just needed more of him.

Eddie was thrilled, grinning when he told you, still a little shy and bashful about bragging on himself, promising that he'd finally get to take you and Oliver and Olivia on the vacation you deserved. You ignored his negative tone, cupping his cheeks and peppering his face in kisses. You were proud, so fucking proud. Beaming in adoration at him and he basked in it.

"Babe," Eddie called, plastic bags full of detergent and milk you'd sent him out for, kicking the door shut gently. "I got the stuff."

Eddie's ears perked, hearing the quiet shushing tones and tiny giggled from the kitchen. His brow raised, living room lacking tiny children watching cartoons or playing with toys.

Eddie called your name, fishing out his keys to sling them in the bowl, brows furrowed when he turned the corner. "Baby, are you-"

"Congratulations!"

Eddie startled, stepping back at the sudden sound, eyes rounding in surprise. The three of you, his tiny, perfect family, all stood in front of the kitchen table. Oliver on a chair, your hand on his back protectively, Olivia on your hip, clapping and gargling excitedly in her little baby blabber that always had Eddie's heart turning to mush. In the middle, a small pan cake. Strawberry frosting that read 'Congratulations Dad!' in sloppy frosting writing- no doubt Ollie's, judging by the sticky residue on his shirt.

"Look, Dad!" Oliver grinned. "We made you a cake!"

Eddie felt it coming, the burn of tears, throat constricting and strangling his words in his throat. "You did?" He lilted as best he could, clearing his throat lightly, too overcome with emotion.

"Uh-huh!" Oliver bobbed his head, too caught up in his own excitement to see how emotional Eddie was getting. "Mom let me break the eggs in, and-and stir it, and we both decorated it! Olivia tried to help, but she kept hitting it with her hands and it got everywhere." Oliver giggled, looking at his baby sister.

"We just wanted to say congratulations." You beamed, rubbing Olivia's back gently. "To show you how proud we are of you, and how happy we are for you."

Eddie pressed his lips together. He refused to cry. He couldn't. Not in front of the kids. "Wow." Eddie choked out, swiping at his nose as casually as he could. "I-I... I don't know what to say."

"Do you like it?" Oliver's voice was softer now, shoulders drooping in defeat.

"No, no!" Eddie said frantically, shaking his head. "I mean, yes. I just... I was really surprised." Eddie said genuinely, setting the bags down slowly. "And I am really thankful you guys did this all for me. So thank you." He nodded, jaw flexing to keep his tears from spilling.

"Congratulations, honey." You muttered, leaning up to press your lips to his in a short, sweet kiss over Olivia's head.

Eddie's hand found your cheek, stroking it lovingly, eyes swimming with emotion. Olivia squealed, squirming and reaching for her father, grabby hands at him that made Eddie smirk, hoisting her onto his own hip.

"Thank you, you guys." Eddie ran a hand over Oliver's head, pulling him closer to his chest. You beamed when you looked at them, Eddie's arm raising to let you in, so you were snuggled to his side, arm over Olivia's back, scratching Oliver's head gently. Eddie's lips pressed to your head, nose lingering over your scalp, breathing in the familiar scent of you to calm his emotions, heart swelling and bursting with love and pride. His little family.

#vivisblurbgame #oneforthemunny #janitor!eddie munson

[ranger-rai]

Hello ranger rai im in need of some advice ya see for a school project I had to raise a Pokémon egg and hatch it and when it hatched I got myself a little Duraludon and have no idea what to do next I wanna keep the little fella but I have no idea on what needs to be done to raise it

Well if it was a school project then the school should be taking responsibility on the pokemon that hatches, especially if it's an elementary school.

I remember that there was a project when I was in school.

Every class had an egg, and we would take turns each week, bringing the egg home and taking care of it, hoping it would hatch.

I took it home for a week and nothing happened, but the week right after, some girl had it hatch on her the very first day.

It was a Skitty Egg.

Our school had a nursery where some of the pokemon would be released back into the wild or some could be adopted.

I think the skitty liked the girl and she adopted it.

There should be a lot of steps in your egg hatching process, so talk with your teacher and see what the next process is, and make sure you're able to care for Duraludon, because it's going to require a lot of attention, and I hope you're ready for that.

For now, if it needs food, it needs iron rich foods, and it shouldn't be kept in damp or humid places due to it not having enough resistance to rusting yet.

But please talk to your teacher and see if there's a good way for it to be taken care of, don't assume you can do it all your own.

Maybe you can catch it when you're old enough or are more prepared?

#ranger rai #pokemon ranger #the ranger base #pokemon #ask me anything #ask me a question #sinnoh #pokemon egg #duraladon #pokemon care #dont be too hasty

[homeofhousechickens]

i love spring and i love getting chicks but my schedule is so oddball that I can't keep up with an incubator, and when I let my chickens brood they have such a low hatch rate I can't justify letting it cut into egg production. BUT! this year I hacked the system by outsourcing! my grandma works at my old elementary school and the kindergarteners do a lifecycle unit with chickens every year, so she took some eggs from my favorite hens in. 9 out of 12 hatched, the kids got to see theres more than just one kind of chicken, and I got the chicks back when they were done with them! now i've got eggs brooding in another 2 elementary schools and furthering my breeding project with my Iowa Blues

I wonder why you have a low hatchrate with broodies. It tends to be the opposite, usually you have really good hatchrates with hens compared to incubators. It why when i want to hatch larger groups i use a broody hen.

If you want some advice on how to have a better broody hatch rate i suggest encouraging the hen to go broody with eggs you dont want to use then when she seems committed to setting swap the eggs you want in and mark them so you can toss or eat any extras that are laid. Seperating the broody into her own area and keeping her nest hygienic is also a huge help.

Schools hatching eggs can be iffy and unethical a lot of times especially some of the horror stories that i have seen locally here but if someone is automatically lined up for those chicks once they hatch then thats the best outcome for everyone involved.

[lifewithoutmeds]

February 4, 2024

felt the craziness set in again, or rather, firm up, like jello overnight.

the day was ok overall. got in a quick walk before it got cold and rainy. did some dishes, some cleaning. ate healthily: bagel and cream cheese (not so healthy), coffee, shrimp/bellpepper stir fry with one cup of rice, a fuji apple, a handful of baby carrots with sour cream, and am waiting for some boiled eggs to cool for my extra protein. i also went to new abbey and only cried a tiny bit but didn't cry this time during the sharing. partly because one lady monopolized the entire sharing time so i really didn't have an opportunity to.

but mostly i was distressed, i was tortured. i'd keep tearing up, unable to stop this torrent of emotion welling out of me. i felt again the way i did as i drove toward porto's the day after lorena went out with reyna for the first time, scream-crying, ashamed at my smallness, at my weakness. i later learned the word "simp," and i saw myself as a simp in every way, the simpiest of all simps, the king of simps.

i remember seeing a youtube video commentary of this poor guy who was clearly infatuated with this streamer, and all she did was insult him and he took it because it was enough that she was putting up with him, enough that she was next to him, enough that they were sharing space, and when everyone reached out to him to sympathize and tell him he deserved better, he actually defended the girl and said they were friends. and everyone felt so bad for him but also, that he was just another lost cause. and sometimes i feel like that last cause.

i messaged her again today. it's been torrentially raining here in socal and i saw that there was rain projected in SF too, which is where she was performing tonight, so i sent a quick, "i hear it's raining in SF. safe travels!" i didn't want to. i thought i could stop myself. but i did, and i thought at the time, "fortune favors the bold," and i thought there'd be no particular harm. if i didn't, i would be tortured that i hadn't tried reaching out again, and if i did, the worst i'd get is a non response or a short one. they'd all be bad but at least i'd know.

there has been no response. it's been several hours and she's been active on ig and even posted a couple stories. she must've gotten a notification that i messaged her but she's refusing to look at my message. it has not been left on read. it has not been read at all. as expected, i am losing my damn mind. tears keep dribbling out in a terribly embarrassing way.

at church, there was a very interesting question that was posed. and it was about authority. how jesus didn't wait for someone well-versed in the law to give him permission or authority to speak. harriet tubman didn't get special permission to go and free a bunch of slaves. neither did rosa parks. but they all decided, within themselves, that they had the authority, and that they had dignity and they didn't need to bow down to another person's authority when it conflicted with their idea of what was right.

the parting question was something like, what area of your life do you feel like you don't have authority, or something like, what could you do in your life if you had the authority ... something like that. i didn't have a chance to speak, but i mulled over this as some other lady spoke in length.

and i thought. every part of my life. i haven't really ever thought i had authority in ... almost any aspect of my life. i didn't have it at home, where i was the only child, and a girl of religious, conservative, strict immigrant parents. i didn't have it at school where i was short, and asian, not white enough to be a part of the whites, but not brown enough to be considered other, to be a part of the conversation of the oppressed, to get financial aid. i wasn't tall, i wasn't white, i wasn't rich, i wasn't athletic. in elementary school i never got picked for any of the softball or kickball teams. we'd sheepishly look at and kick our feet as the team captains would disgustedly say, "you can have the rest," or "we don't want them" and then we'd sort of just split up amongst ourselves and go to the outfield and never get a ball, or when one did approach, mess everything up by kicking it directly into the arms of the opposing team. it usually seemed like we were some sort of liability, that being there was literally worse than not being there at all.

i wasn't the smart kid, the loud kid, the brave kid. i was considered by some to be funny, but typically i'd just be so nervous and anxious that i'd freeze in the company of the popular kids. i was average and mediocre by most societal norms, and in a way i think i was oppressed and repressed to keep it that way. we were the model minority. we lived in the margins. we deferred to authority, we stayed out of everyone's way, we followed the rules, and we "thrived" relatively, because we didn't ruffle any of the feathers of the ruling class, which actually put us at odds with the serving class and we were seen as traitors.

i feel this even now, as an adult. i'm still not tall, white, rich, or attractive. i still move out of the way when someone approaches on the sidewalk. i will divert to another aisle at the market if it means avoiding some sort of awkward interaction. i bow to authority. i am awestruck by beauty. i just sort of snivel and scamper and stay out of everyone's way, and i've rarely felt any volition or ... or right to do anything else. i see myself as somewhat worthless and meaningless, and that my life doesn't matter, my actions don't matter, and ultimately nothing i do is of any consequence at all. i think that's why i steer clear of politics, of taking some sort of strong stance on social issues. i don't think my opinions matter. i don't think anything will change. i don't think my vote, or my signature on a petition, or my presence in a rally, will do anything. i don't think anyone, even those in "power" can change anything. i don't think anything can really be changed. we're just on a pretty set course to annihilation and all of our actions are moot. we just try to ease the suffering, laugh when we can, huddle close, and wait for death, and hope it will not be too bad.

what authority do i have? i guess i can stand up for whatever i think is "right." harriet tubman was a short lady. and she was not white. i don't think she was particularly well-read. but she had her convictions. what are my convictions? can i be brave? can i thwart the powers that i have felt have oppressed me?

i do want to stand up for those who are suffering. particularly LGBTQIA youth and those who feel like they can't come out. that's the only thing i've ever done with any conviction. to come out. it was that or die, and i wanted to live slightly more than i wanted to die, which is why i'm alive now. i want to help younger versions of me so they don't suffer as much as i did.

i also don't like to see physical suffering. i bought a bunch of sandals and washed a bunch of fleece blankets/throws so that i could hand them out to the homeless downtown when i saw them and thought they had a need. i understand there are wars and famines and crises all over the world, but i do not know if i can help. but i'd like to think a blanket will help on a cold day. that sandals are better than being barefoot. i'm thinking of bringing a can of butane after seeing an old asian homeless lady cooking on her little portable stove in her open tent, and figured she could probably use a refill.

i only work in small ways, but maybe because i feel so small myself. i wonder if i could do bigger things if i felt like i was allowed to, if i had the authority to. hm. food for thought.

oh also, i'm having this issue with airbnb where i wrote a review for this kinda asshole host and then airbnb took it down for "violating the terms" by not writing a review that described the situation or some shit, and then i got really indignant, reached out to customer service, and very sternly explained the situation and emphasized that i didn't want any monetary compensation or otherwise, i just wanted my review to stay up because it was accurate and it was true, and taking it down would really negate the whole point of reviews. and weirdly, that indignation, that commitment to fairness and justice and to declaring what was true actually distracted me from the despair over my latest obsession. righteous indignation won out over my sad puppy love. food for thought.

[okamikami1996]

Chapter Three- Disabilities and School

I'm going to say two words and almost all of you will probably not even need to read this chapter: Middle School. Let me say two more that will probably have half of you running for cover: Girl Drama. One word: hormones. Last word: disability. I'm pretty sure most of you already know what I'm getting at: my failed middle school career.

My family may have had a little-- or maybe a lot-- of trauma from the response to my 504 plan in elementary school, to the point where we didn't even try in middle school. We were too afraid of disappointment. So we shut up and allowed ourselves to suffer in silence. My school placed me in algebra. If you've read chapter two and how I have dyslexia, I'm pretty sure you already know that math was not going to be my favorite subject. My first year of middle school I flunked my math class. God awful. Math became not only my worst subject, but my least favorite subject. It also became another thing that was wrong with me. My ego was the equivalent of an egg that had been dropped, had cracks, but had somehow managed to retain its ovular shape. My math teacher saw I was trying-- and God knows I was, lunch periods, asking questions, getting tutoring, trying to get seating that was away from chatterboxes, asking for more information-- he gave me a C, instead of the D that my grade most certainly was. My mom had me retake the year. Guess what? I got an A. Weirdly, it didn't give me that "Oh, I actually am smart feel", instead I felt like I just got lucky. Self worth was almost a zero. I wanted people to accept me as I was, but it isn't that easy. I should have understood that, but I think I was desperate for someone to like me despite having four disabilities: I told people that I was ADD, I told them I was bipolar, I told them I took medication. It didn't go well. I still had friends, thank god. However, if I'm being honest, I'm not sure how healthy some of the relationships were. Two of my friends thought I was an attention hog. Can't blame them, how many disabilities did I have? How hard was it to have them? How many boys bullied me? To them, I probably was fishing for attention. It's kind of like Trump says: "There's no such thing as bad publicity". Maybe that's what they thought I was doing?

I had another friend who argued with me about whether it's sadder to get a puppy and watch it get sick and die, or have a dog your whole life and have it die. How many times did I tell her that I thought both were sad? I also had a super amazing friend who stayed with me from the 5th grade. She was literally my saving grace up until high school when we went to different schools. Middle school was mainly a development of extreme depression that was kept hidden by my friend group. In all honesty, I was lucky to have a friend group at all with how disabilities and taking medication was seen at the time.

I was taking 90 mgs of Abilify (no idea if that is how it is spelled) and 900 mgs of Seriquiel (no idea if that is how this is spelled either). For any of you who don't know: these are dangerous amounts of drugs to take. Like really, really dangerous, and my doctors probably should have lost their licenses. The reason behind my taking so much drugs was simple: if 60 mgs don't work increase it to 90 mgs. Yeah. According to them this was the only drug to treat bipolar disorder we HADN'T tried.

High school was absolute hell. My friends all went to the other high school, and I went to the new charter school. Fun, right? I had learned more or less what a shit idea it was to announce that I had disabilities. Well, just being depressed for now reason was no better. Or not being able to hear people. Let me be straight, Da Vinci Charter Academy was a school that valued group projects. We had no choice but to talk to each other and communicate. Everyone at the small community school thought I was just being difficult. That I was faking not being able to hear. After a few failed attempts at taking direction for my peers I was cut out, even if I asked for them to write it down.

"Nevermind." That is all I got back. Finally, I closed myself off. Completely from everyone at school. I'm pretty sure high school was also when I began to hide away in my room all the time. I began to see kitchen knives and stand in front of them for ten minutes just trying to get myself to kill myself and be done with it. I had an impulse I could not control where I would blurt out, "I hate myself and I deserve to die". I almost blurted it out in the middle of a lecture more times than I can count. There would be times where I was actually happy and laughing with my family where I would all of a sudden just say, "I hate myself and I deserve to die". I ruined a lot of happy moments with that. It was an impulse that I could not control. I couldn't go to therapy, my first and last therapist, Susan, was a mistake my family could not afford to repeat. So we just followed what the doctors said and added more drugs. I was numb to almost everything but my own pain. I didn't trust people, I couldn't take compliments. There was a boy who tried to hang out with me, but I told him to just leave me alone because he was friends with the boys who hated me. Imagine walking up to a table or being invited by another girl and have the group stop talking when you came to sit down. Imagine trying to join the conversation that started back up and have everyone just be silent. Imagine having people tell you to just "go the fuck away" when you came to talk to them. By year two, I didn't speak to anyone unless I had to. I had to constantly remind myself that my classmates were not to be trusted.

I had a teacher named Mr. Milsap who was pretty nice to me. We had moments of awkward silence when I answered questions, but I really liked his class. Loved it. I surprisingly don't remember very well when I got my 504 plan reinstated. I should, but I don't. I know it had to be in the second year of high school, when I was so depressed and miserable at school that I was literally barricading myself in my room so I didn't have to go to school, that my mom had enough. She thought that the kids would at least stop leaving me out of conversations if they knew I had a hearing disability. I was against it, at first. Terrified of what would happen if everyone knew I had a disability. We held a meeting. I had to sit and listen to teachers compliment me on my strengths. That was torture. I had a physical aversion to being complimented, like I needed to leave the room right away if someone did. It was painful to be complimented. I remember my teacher Maestra Rameriez was the teacher who I owed the most to. She was a woman who never treated me inferior to other students despite my butchering of the Spanish language in class and my endless need to repeat things. She was the most accepting of my 504 plan. If she ever reads this, and knows who I am: thank you so much, you have no idea how much you meant to me in school.

Mr. Milsap was not. In fact, he argued against it the whole time. I remember nothing after the first part of the meeting when the teachers all went around the table and complimented me. I do remember almost word for word the conversation afterward where my mother spoke to me about her less than spectacular impression of Mr. Milsap. I only know that he was the only person to argue against my 504 plan through her retelling. I don't think I actually remembered even as we drove home that day. After that, my time in his class became terrible. God awful. He would often yell at me randomly in my TA class with him. Then, there was that project. We were told to give a presentation on how someone had discriminated against us. I used my hearing disability. I had been given hope, finally. It was true, the kids no longer left me out of conversations now that I had a 504 plan. I thought maybe this would further turn the tables. At least twice a week I took the project into Mr. Milsap until he told me I was sure to get an A. Full credit. I got I C. Why? According to him, I went five minutes over the time limit. Two grades lower because I went over the time limit?

That may have been it for me for a while. I didn't talk anymore in that class, or not as much as I had been. My ego had been shot again. I was still majorly depressed. I could tell you good things about people who constantly bullied me or spoke rudely to me, I don't think I could have told you one good thing about myself. I was a wreck. I was constantly fighting with my mother, a few times I almost ran away from home during my nightly dog walks. I lived for the most part like I was dead. I graduated high school went to a community college, and got hit with something much, much worse: rheumatoid arthritis.

#disability #depression #middle and high school #failure #autobiography

[sauntering-down]

y'all ready for a weirdass dream

so i was at my old elementary school (which was functioning like a high school), and there was some kind of kindergarten entrance exam going on... but i don't think it was actually for my school. this was an exclusive private school which was inexplicably holding exams in my public elementary school. this exam, for some reason, involved a softball game, and two of the prospective students were Mary-Kate and Ashley Olsen, age four. they were in their typical roles of 'one popular girly-girl and one sporty tomboy'. idk, guys. but i was either helping out with the game, watching the game, or actually playing the game; it frequently varied. couldn't tell you how it ended. when it did end, though, i left the gym and proceeded into the usual School Dream™ - i couldn't find my locker or remember my combination. i knew i'd written both those things down in my agenda, but despite Erin momentarily appearing to help me search, i couldn't find the page... eventually, however, i realized that info was on my schedule, which was also folded into my agenda.

despite this struggle, i never actually went to my locker. i'd spent most of my school day at the softball exam and i was starving - i had one more class left and it was one i'd already missed once recently, but i was so damn hungry... so i skipped it and went down another hall to Cafeteria 2. it was not the ACTUAL cafeteria, but one in the hallway and also next door to the real thing. also, here's a helpful annotated screenshot of my elementary school circa 2001:

so i was trying to get my food, which turned out to be a massive ordeal even though Cafeteria 2 had a super limited menu. the woman working there was impatiently rattling off my options in an extremely thick accent and every time i was like 'um, can you slow down a little?!' she got angry and just went faster. i did eventually hear her say 'egg salad' though and i was like fine, egg salad sandwich, that works. she started putting my sandwich together, going down this long line of ingredients that reminded me of a Subway, and then... she abruptly vanished into thin air right in front of my eyes. i was like ????? and went over to the other woman working there, told her the person making my sandwich had literally disappeared and i wouldn't mind so much, except i'd already paid. so this other woman went and finished my lunch, which was... not an egg salad sandwich. one compartment of the tray had a bunch of tiny sausages and a beaded skewer for eating them?? idk. i was so hungry i didn't care; i sat down with my tray and started eating. there were a few other people in Cafeteria 2, and also some kind of foreign film being projected onto the wall.

my sixth-grade teacher Mr. I walked into the room then, spotted me, and came over. we said hello, chatted a bit, and he asked if i could do him a favor - he needed a ride to a place called 'Eufala Hill' or something like that. i was like eh, why not, but i need REALLY good directions as i'm terrible with them otherwise. he said that was fine, i'd actually been to the place a long time ago, i just didn't remember... didn't think anything of that in the dream, but considering how the rest of the thing played out, it's kinda sinister now lol. so i agreed to meet him here at 7 tomorrow morning, wrote it down in my notebook so i'd remember, and he left. i started paying attention to the film then and found the English subtitles were accompanied by a second set of subtitles, above or below or sometimes laid over the originals, and they were all hilariously weird and dirty. we were all losing our shit laughing about it. the teacher supervising figured out the kids projecting the film from the booth behind Cafeteria 2 were doing it, and we all thought they'd get in trouble... but she was like 'okay, we've got half an hour of school left and i don't care, amuse me' and they had the green light to continue.

things got weird after that. at some point the boy next to me noticed it was getting awfully late and we should've been dismissed by now, but evidently there was a lockdown, so we just shrugged and kept watching the film. and then someone else went 'hey, it's 10:30 pm?????' and i checked the clock and yep, 10:30. i wasn't happy about being stuck at school so late, i needed to get home and sleep since i had to be back early tomorrow... and i had something else to do at midnight, because apparently i'd been a witch this entire time and my coven was holding a ceremony. k. the other students were beginning to get restless too, there were kids gathering in the halls and discussing whether or not to leave on their own. this other girl and i finally decided to go up to the front entrance and see what was going on.

we couldn't get there, though. someone had erected a massive barrier at the end of the corridor leading to the front wing on the building. a woman (inexplicably wearing a frilly nightgown) was there, angrily berating anyone who asked to leave, saying we had to stay and to get over it. when this other girl and i approached, though, she got really snide with us, going, "oh, you're the hacktivists. you can leave." idk if she was being sarcastic or not, because we promptly scrambled over the barrier... well, the other girl did. at this point, i was floating for no apparent reason; i just floated over lol. we ran to the front doors. they were locked, and as the other girl unlocked them, i looked up and noticed there was one of those 'pull to activate fire alarm' handles WAY up on the wall, almost at the ceiling. i guess i figured the panic might get the other kids to either rush the barrier and destroy it, or else they'd cheat and go out the windows and all the other doors lol. floated up there and pulled it just as the doors opened - i dropped something in the process but didn't look for it, just ran outside with the other girl.

right outside the doors was another hallway, but it was sort of a covered walkway more than anything? it was walled in, except with a bunch of large holes serving as windows... anyway, the girl and i ran along the front of the building. we got all the way down to the end where the library was, and suddenly WATER. the grass and parking lot had turned into a very large pond with a whole-ass marina. there were a ton of docks jutting out from the covered walkway. the other girl was way ahead of me now and just before turning the corner and getting out of sight, she called back that i'd dropped my car keys AND my slime, and don't forget i'd painted my slime pink!

now i had a problem - i needed my keys, but i'd dropped them by the front doors, and if my fire alarm idea worked, it would be a massive rush there right now. i had no choice but to go back. as i did, i found there was nobody outside - apparently my idea didn't work - and i didn't have to go back in, thankfully, as my slime (a little green blob with a face, like in Terraria, splattered with pink paint) had slipped out and was hopping down the hallway with my keys, which was more of a key card, but whatever. i grabbed them both and turned back around and ran.

so, back at the 'marina', i started looking closely at all the docks i passed because the leader of my coven had apparently left a note for me on one of them. i finally found it, but it wasn't readable unless i got into the water, so i did. it was sort of an invitation to that midnight event, which was about a girl named Marianna - maybe she was joining us? idk. there were a few other small pieces of paper stuck to the first. one was a tiny post-it-note-sized piece which i originally thought was an RSVP... but when i read it, i found out the leader knew i'd maybe left the coven or was doing something i shouldn't by attending this school? i'm not really sure, but she gave me a list of options - they were all basically 'stay' or 'go' dressed up in different words. if i left i was supposedly 'forsaking the language of my father' or something. as i was reading, a man emerged from the water next to me - literally emerged, as in he was created from the water - and climbed up onto the dock. i was going to ask him if he had any idea where the hell i'd parked, because i didn't want to think about my coven or anything now, i didn't want to leave but also there was some serious fuckery going on at my school and maybe i should handle that... anyway, i really just wanted to go home and get some rest at that point. the man didn't answer me and i think i woke up right about then.

#dream

[god-whispers]

jul 27

jeremy's egg

this is really supposed to be an easter story (and i use the word easter just because the story does).  i suppose it really should be saved for telling then.  the thing is, i'm not sure we're all going to be here next easter.

i'm so ready for Jesus to come i can hardly stand it.  i don't know if the Lord is still doing personal raptures - like enoch and elijah - but there have been times when i felt this world was tugging extra hard just to keep me here.  when one has experienced the glory, it's got to be difficult to restrain them from it.  anyway, let's get on with the story.

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jeremy was born with a twisted body, a slow mind and a chronic, terminal illness that had been slowly killing him all his young life.  still, his parents had tried to give him as normal a life as possible and had sent him to st. theresa's elementary school.

at the age of 12, jeremy was only in second grade, seemingly unable to learn.  his teacher, doris miller, often became exasperated with him.  he would squirm in his seat, drool and make grunting noises.  at other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain.  most of the time, however, jeremy irritated his teacher.  one day, she called his parents and asked them to come to st. teresa's for a consultation.

as the forresters sat quietly in the empty classroom, doris said to them, "jeremy really belongs in a special school.  it isn't fair to him to be with younger children who don't have learning problems.  why, there is a five-year gap between his age and that of the other students!"

mrs. forrester cried softly into a tissue while her husband spoke.  "miss miller," he said, "there is no school of that kind nearby.  it would be a terrible shock for jeremy if we had to take him out of this school.  we know he really likes it here."

doris sat for a long time after they left, staring at the snow outside the window.  its coldness seemed to seep into her soul.  she wanted to sympathize with the forresters.  after all, their only child had a terminal illness.  but it wasn't fair to keep him in her class.  she had 18 other youngsters to teach and jeremy was a distraction.  furthermore, he would never learn to read or write.  why waste any more time trying?

as she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her.  "Oh God," she said aloud, "here i am complaining when my problems are nothing compared with that poor family!  please help me to be more patient with jeremy."

from that day on, she tried hard to ignore jeremy's noises and his blank stares.  then one day he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him.  "i love you, miss miller," he exclaimed, loudly enough for the whole class to hear.  the other children snickered, and doris' face turned red.  she stammered, "wh-why, that's very nice, jeremy.  now please take your seat."

spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of saster.  doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg.  "now," she said to them, "i want you to take this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that shows new life.  do you understand?"

yes, miss miller!"  the children responded enthusiastically - all except for jeremy.  he just listened intently, his eyes never left her face.  he did not even make his usual noises.  had he understood what she had said about Jesus' death and resurrection?  did he understand the assignment?  perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them.  that evening, doris' kitchen sink stopped up.  she called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it.  after that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day.  she completely forgot about phoning jeremy's parents.

the next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on miss miller's desk.  after they completed their math lesson, it was time to open the eggs.  in the first egg, doris found a flower.  "oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign of new life," she said.  "when plants peek through the ground we know that spring is here."  a small girl in the first row waved her arms.  "that's my egg, miss miller," she called out.

the next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real.  doris held it up. "we all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly.  yes, that is new life, too."  little Judy smiled proudly and said, "miss miller, that one is mine."

next doris found a rock with moss on it.  she explained that the moss, too, showed life.  billy spoke up from the back of the classroom.  "my Daddy helped me!" he beamed.

when doris opened the fourth egg.  she gasped.  the egg was empty!  surely it must be jeremy's, she thought, and, of course, he did not understand her instructions.  if only she had not forgotten to phone his parents.  because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another.

suddenly jeremy spoke up. "miss miller, aren't you going to talk about my egg?"  flustered, doris replied, "but jeremy - your egg is empty!"  he looked into her eyes and said softly, "yes, but Jesus' tomb was empty too!"

time stopped.  when she could speak again, doris asked him, "do you know why the tomb was empty?"

"oh yes!" jeremy exclaimed. "Jesus was killed and put in there.  then his Father raised him up!"

the recess bell rang.  while the children excitedly ran out to the school yard, doris cried.  the cold inside her melted completely away.

three months later jeremy died.  those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket, all of them empty.

-- by ida mae kempel

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i wonder what all this story has to say to people - about kindness, about patience, about making one's wants and needs secondary to someone else's needs.  Jesus certainly made His wants and needs secondary to ours.  we all rest in God's providence.

[typical-simplelove]

On Your Right (M. Tkachuk)

Author's Note: The longest one-shot I have ever written is for @raysofcrosby for @antoineroussel's Summer Fic Exchange; this is my first exchange, so hopefully, I did well. Thanks to Demi for organizing this! I truly had a blast working on this. I hope you enjoy this!! I used inspo from To All the Boys I've Loved Before and Bridgerton for this. Enjoy reading!

Summary: When you and Matthew both find yourself needing dates to individual events, Matthew proposes a plan where you both fake date. He suggests that he, who's been in love with you since the age of ten, and you, who is convinced Matthew hates you, date. What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 21.4k

Warnings: the time may not coincide with the way time works, but ignore that; hatred; friends hating each other; Matthew being an ass; fake dating; mentions of sex (nothing explicit or too NSFW, though); planes; only one bed

Sitting on the patio chair of the Tkachuk's deck was exactly how you expected to spend a Sunday afternoon in the early weeks of summer vacation. For the past ten years, it's the exact way you've always spent your Sunday afternoons in the summer. It was always the same. Your mother and Chantal would be in the kitchen with the air conditioning, and your dad and Keith would be at the grill making dinner. What they would make would change, but it would usually be somewhere between burgers and hotdogs to chicken or salmon. It was always a surprise. They'd never tell the kids not wanting any complaining. You always sat in a chair with Taryn on your left and with Matthew on your right. Across from you sat your brother and Brady next to him. Keith always sat at one head and Chantal at the other. Your dad sat in the seat next to Keith, and your mother sat next to Chantal. You would always drink lemonade, and your brother would drink iced tea. You never got to drink that at home, so you and your brother would make sure to share your cups. Sometimes, Matthew would drink a pop of his choice and share it with you. If it rained, the Tkachuks would go to your home, and the seating situation was the same around your dining room table.

Chantal and your mother would insist that you kids couldn't play inside at these Sunday afternoon dinners. Sometimes, your brother and the boys would play soccer and maybe let you and Taryn join. Oftentimes, though, you and Taryn would hang out together. Sometimes, Matthew would play with you and Taryn, and you'd all play family. You and Matthew would be married parents, and Taryn would be your daughter. If your brother and Brady chose to join, Taryn would be the aunt, and Brady and your brother would be the children. Taryn always joked that life should always end up that way -- you and Matthew married with Taryn as the aunt to your children. When she'd bring up the topic, your mother and Chantal would always give each other a knowing look as if they knew something you both didn't. Your dad wouldn't say anything, but Keith would pat his shoulder, again, as if they knew something you didn't. Brady and your brother would gag and tease Matthew. You and Matthew never said anything; you both were close friends, some would argue best friends, but it didn't matter. You knew that Matthew would be someone who would always be in your life. In your life, ages 5-10, you didn't understand the notion of marriage. All you knew was that you wanted Matthew to be in your life, and if it was marriage, then so be it.

Despite expecting to be sitting on that patio chair, you never expected you'd be watching Taryn, Brady, Matthew, and your brother playing while you sat there by yourself. It wasn't that they weren't including you, but they also weren't not not including you. They all decided to play your least favorite game, and you didn't want to, so you decided to sit and watch. There's more to it, though. The school year ended just the previous week, and you and Matthew graduated from elementary school and would be going to middle school. Somewhere within the past few weeks. Matthew went from being one of your closest friends to hating you. He just suddenly decided he didn't like you. You weren't sure why, but he just stopped being your friend. You told your mother you were sick so as not to have to come to the Tkachuk's today, but she said no. She saw right through your lie. You didn't know why Matthew didn't want to be your friend anymore, but it hurt. It hurt a lot. No longer were the days where you and Matthew would pretend to be a married couple. No more were the days where Matthew would share his pop with you. No more were the days where Matthew was your closest friend.

When Chantal called for dinner, you ran to the washroom to wash your hands and sat back in your usual spot. Despite knowing Matthew's recent emotions towards you, you hoped he'd still sit next to you. You watched as Taryn returned from washing her hands and began to apologize for not playing a game you liked. You told her it was okay, it was, and watched your brother take his seat across from you, as normal. You watched Brady put the toys away and go to the washroom to wash his hands. You watched as Keith and your father put the grilled chicken on the table, and Chantal and your mother set the sides on the table. Finally, Matthew emerged from the house, but what he did next confused you. He sat in Brady's usual seat.

"What are you doing, Matthew?" Brady asks when he sees where his brother is sitting. Matthew glares at you and shrugs.

"I just want to sit next here, today," Matthew says with anger in his voice. You weren't sure why he was suddenly so angry, but the look he had as he stared at you sent chills down your spine. That's when you knew. That's when you knew that Matthew hated you. He doesn't like you anymore, and you doubted he ever would You didn’t know it, then, but you now know that when Matthew opted to sit in a different seat and treat you with anger, he broke your heart.

Matthew Tkachuk broke your heart at the age of ten.

. . .

With Matthew out of the picture as a friend, you found yourself growing closer to your other friends. One friend, in particular, became your closest friend, Shelly. You and Shelly became the best of friends and stuck together through middle school, high school, and college. It was Shelly who convinced you that it would be a good idea to move to Calgary despite your hated family friend living there.

"Shelly, I don't think so," you tell her. "Actually, I know so."

"Come on, Ynn," Shelly eggs on. "Do it for me? I'm getting married! Please, can you bring a date? Actually, it's a must thing. I'm telling you that you have to bring a date. That's the only thing I need from you."

"So, the only thing I need to do as your maid of honor is to bring a date?"

"I mean, no? But, the wedding is in two months, and most of the stuff I've needed you to do has been done. Just this one thing, okay? I think you'll enjoy it much better if you have someone to hang out with. Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love with him and marry him, and I can be your maid of honor."

"Fine," you grumble. "But, only because I love you."

You hang up the phone and groan. How were you supposed to find a date? You had a few work friends in Calgary, but you found it difficult to find a date. The one thing that annoyed you the most was that you had two months to find someone you liked and trusted enough to bring to St. Louis for a wedding. What were you going to do?

Now, a month later, you were standing outside one certain door you never thought you would with a plate of cookies, their favorite cookies, and angry that this was your last resort. You knock on the door of the apartment and await the smirk and comment you were bound to get.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my biggest admirer, Yn Yln," Matthew says with his signature smirk. Yup, you guessed it.

"Matthew," you grumble and walk into his apartment as he welcomes you inside. "Here are some cookies."

Matthew takes the plate from you, opens it up, and bites into a cookie. "Thank you," he says with a mouthful of cookies. You grimace at the sight and remind yourself about the task at hand. "You know, when you called me, I forgot you were in Calgary. Why haven't you ever called me before to hang out?"

"You're serious?"

"Very."

"Maybe the small fact that we've hated each other since we were like ten? Or, how about that time you spilled water down my dress at our joint eighth-grade graduation party? Or, how about that time you spilled Gatorade on my English project? Or, how about that time you told everyone we were dating when you clearly know WE WEREN'T. Or, how about that time you took my car keys and hid them at the bottom of your hockey bag in the men's locker room? Would you like me to continue? I can keep going as far as you need."

"No, no, I get the point. No need to remind me," Matthew tells you. He internally cringes at his actions growing up, but he has too much pride to apologize. "Anyways, that was when we were growing up and in high school. I haven't treated you like that in ages."

Matthew knows he shouldn't have said that immediately when he sees the glare you give him. "I have a list if you'd like for me to list it out?"

"Okay, fine, message understood. You hate me, and I hate you because of it. What do you need? You called me pretty frantically."

You narrow your eyes at Matthew. "Firstly, I did not call you frantically. I called you asking if I could ask for a favor. Secondly, I only hate you because you hate me. Third, I need your help with something."

"Okay, firstly, yes you did. Second, maybe that's right. Third, just tell me."

"Can you set me up with a teammate or a friend of yours for me to take to Shelly's wedding?" you blurt out in one breath.

"What?" Matthew laughs breathlessly, not sure if he heard you right.

"I need a date for Shelly's wedding, and I need you to set me up with someone you trust, please."

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

"No," you grumble out, and Matthew laughs at you. "It's not like you have a girlfriend or anything."

"Wow, look at you. Firing shots, huh?"

"Matthew, can you or can you not set me up with someone you know and trust?"

"Sure, I'll see who I can find."

"Great, thank you," you say and make your way to leave.

"Where are you going?" Matthew asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Home?"

"You just came here to ask me that and leave?"

"It's not like we're friends or anything," you say blatantly. Matthew is shocked by your words and takes a visible step back. He isn't sure why your words shocked him so much because he knows you're both not friends. He knows for a fact you're both not friends but hearing you actually say it after all these years is shocking to him.

"Right, not friends. You can leave then. You can take your cookies back."

"No, no, I made them for you. I know they're your favorite. Thanks, again, Matthew."

"Sure, sure," he says as you walk out the door. He locks the door behind you and is instantly confused why he hates that you're both not friends. He knows you’re not friends. Both his and your actions over the past years have proven it, but he thought — he actually doesn't know what he thought. As the season came to an end, Matthew had another task at hand — finding someone for you to take as a date even though he knows no one he knows is good enough for you.

. . .

Matthew was sitting at the bar with his teammates sizing them all up wondering which one would be good enough for you to have as a date. There was Noah; Matthew guesses he could be okay with you with him, but Matthew knows you could do better. There was Jacob, and Matthew knew he'd treat you well. Maybe he should ask Jacob if he'd join you as a date.

"Matthew, why do you keep staring at us?" Noah asks.

"I have someone I know who needs help finding a date for a wedding this summer," Matthew explains. "This person I know asked if I could set them up with someone I know and trust."

"Do you need a guy? If so, then go with Jacob. He'll treat your friend, right," Elias says.

"Yn's not my friend," Matthew is quick to say.

"Is she someone you’re more than friends with?" Noah asks with a smirk on his face.

"No, absolutely not," Matthew says as he vehemently shakes his head. "No, we've hated each other since we were like ten."

"Why are you helping her, then?"

Matthew just stares at Noah. Why was he helping you? You both weren’t friends, as you made abundantly clear the other day. Matthew didn’t know why he was helping you. You were a long-time family friend and by far one of the most amazing people he’s ever met. But, that didn’t answer the question as to why he was helping you. You were someone amazing, yet Matthew still can’t seem to pinpoint why he was helping you. Matthew knows that if he doesn’t help you Chantal would have his head. Maybe, just maybe, it was the small, no large, crush he’s harbored for you since you were both ten. Maybe, just maybe, he truly, deep down cared about who you dated if it couldn’t be him. “I’m not sure,” Matthew deflects knowing fully why he was helping you.

“Maybe you should strike her a deal,” Mark mentions. “You find her a date for the wedding, and she finds you a date for the End-of-Year Charity Gala.”

Matthew perks his head up towards his captain. He forgot about the Gala.

“Oh no, Matthew has a smirk on his face. What’s your idea?” Noah says suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Matthew says, not losing his smirk. He has one splendid idea that he is sure to solve both your dating issues.

. . .

Matthew: I have a date for you. He’ll come over tomorrow at 5 pm with flowers, okay?

Yn: Okay, sounds good! I can’t wait to meet him.

Matthew: You’ll love him.

Matthew knows you won’t. Based on what his plan was, he knew you wouldn’t like it. He only hoped you wouldn’t slap him across the face.

. . .

The day after Matthew texted you and said when your date would show up, you were nervous. Incredibly nervous. You hoped that, for once, Matthew wouldn’t be an ass and set you up with someone nice. You were pacing around your kitchen and 4:58 pm when the doorbell rang. You stood up straight and took a deep breath. You could do this. You weren’t going to actually date the guy; you were just going to ask him to accompany you to a wedding back home and that was it. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Matthew?” you ask in disbelief as you lock eyes with Matthew’s striking blue eyes. You give him a once-over and notice he’s wearing a white shirt, a tight shirt that fits him way too well, and black dress pants. What was with the fancy wear? You meet his eyes again, and you’re met with his eyes full of love, happiness, and worry as they stare deep into your eyes. You’ve yet to ever see this mix of emotion in Matthew’s eyes when he looks at you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You and Matthew continue staring deeply into each other’s eyes, both not wanting to break the trance you’ve found yourself in.

“Hey, Yn,” Matthew finally says, realizing who he was looking at. He hands you the bouquet of your favorite flowers. “These are for you.”

“Oh, um, come in,” you say and usher him inside. You hate him, Yn. Stop with these emotions, you keep telling yourself. Why did he suddenly have this effect on you? Matthew walks into your apartment, takes his shoes off, and sits on a chair at your counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your date,” Matthew says nervously, but you still see the love lining his eyes as you speak. You haven’t seen that look directed to you in a while.

“No, absolutely not. We hate each other, remember? Why would I suddenly bring you as a date?”

“Look, before you go crazy, just listen to what I have to say, okay?” Matthew asks softly. You nod and turn away to put the flowers in a vase. You make sure your back is to Matthew because you don’t want him to see how flustered you are by his soft tone towards you.

After placing the flowers in a vase and placing it on the coffee table, you say, “Okay, Matthew, what do you have to say?”

“You know how at the end of the season, the Flames have an End-of-Year Charity Gala?” you shake your head no, and Matthew chuckles softly, and your faith grows warm. “Well, we have one, and I need to bring a date.”

“Okay?”

“So, what if we pretend to date? Like, you come with me to the gala, and I go with you to Shelly’s wedding,” Matthew proposes nervously.

“Why would you want that, Matthew? You hate me.”

“I don’t — I couldn’t ha— you know what? It doesn’t matter. Look, you need a date, and I need a date, so why don’t we just go together and solve both our problems?”

“Matthew, I don’t know.”

“Yn, come on. What’s stopping you?”

“You hate me, Matthew,” you tell him softly, not meeting Matthew’s eyes.

Matthew sighs. He could never hate you. He never really hated you; he just had to pretend to hate you because of how he felt. When Matthew was ten, he realized that he had a crush on you. He realized he like liked you, and he didn’t know what to do about it, so he just ignored you and was mean to you. Unfortunately, over the years, Matthew couldn’t let go of those feelings, and he fell more and more for you as he watched you grow into the beautiful person you are now. Seeing you walk into this apartment with the cookies the other day, Matthew realized that he was still hopelessly in love with you. At first, Matthew thought that he could find a date for you. He could find someone who was perfect for you because everyone knows that he could never be it for you, but, as he began going through his list of friends, he realized that even they weren’t good enough for you. Matthew knew you’d never feel the same way about him, but if Matthew can have you as a fake girlfriend, then that’s what he’ll have, then. “We both don’t want to find a date for our events, so why don’t we just pretend to date, then?”

You look at Matthew and see the sincerity in his eyes. You see the longing and want for you to say yes. You’ve always loved looking into Matthew’s eyes and seeing the emotion in them. You’ve never seen this kind of emotion directed towards you. You see the longing and sadness and wishing for you to say yes; however, you also see love? You couldn’t possibly be seeing that in his eyes. Could you? “Okay,” you whisper, suddenly being overwhelmed with what you saw laced in Matthew’s eyes and facial expressions.

“Okay?” Matthew asks, confirming because he was in disbelief.

“Yeah, okay. We can fake date.”

Matthew rushes over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as he holds you tightly.

“Of course, Matthew. You had a good idea that helped us both.”

Matthew leaves shortly after with a fake girlfriend and a wide smile on his face. He only hoped that he wouldn’t fall harder for you now that he’s finally somehow got you.

. . .

Matthew came over two weeks later, one day before the Flames’ last game, to sort out the terms of your and Matthew’s fake dating ruse. You weren’t sure why you agreed to this. No one back home would believe that you and Matthew were dating. You both have hated each other for as long as you can remember. Everyone would be shocked that you and Matthew can possibly stand to be in the same room together. The fact that you moved to the same city was also a giant shock to everyone. Not a single person would believe it, but why did your heart suddenly race when you thought of you and Matthew fake dating? Why did your pulse quicken at the thought of being on Matthew’s arm at the Gala? Why did you enjoy the cheeky messages Matthew has been sending you and telling you that he was trying to “fill the role perfectly”? Why did your heart hurt when you realized it was all fake?

“I brought some takeout, is that good?” Matthew asks as he steps into your apartment. In his hands, he has a bag of food from your favorite restaurant in Calgary and another bouquet. You take the bag of food and the flowers from his hand, and Matthew goes into your cupboards to find some plates. The domesticity of the situation made your heart lurch through your chest, but you still weren’t sure why.

“That’s perfect, thanks, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile as Matthew sets the plates down on the counter. You place the flowers in another vase and put them next to the flowers Matthew brought previously that were probably ready to be tossed. “You don’t have to buy me flowers every time you come by.”

“Firstly, it’s been like two times, and secondly, let me treat you, okay? I am your boyfriend, after all, so I might as treat you as you deserve to be treated,” Matthew tells you as if he was preaching fact. He talked to you as if he didn’t hate you your entire life and only just started liking you.

“Fake boyfriend,” you correct. You want to make sure that the parameters of your relationship are clearly defined.

“You tell that to Shelly? That you and I are fake dating?” Matthew asks with a smirk.

“I told her I had a date, and I was going to tell her it was you, but she told me to surprise her on her wedding day. I’m convinced she thinks I don’t have a date,” you tell Matthew and take a bite of food. You moan in delight, and Matthew grins knowing he picked the perfect meal for you. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

Matthew shrugs, but a playful smile is a dead giveaway that he has an explanation. “I guess I just know you really well.”

“That’s ridiculous, Matthew. You do not know me at all. I’ve changed since you stopped being my friend when we were ten.”

“Hey! I did not stop being your friend. You stopped being my friend,” Matthew feigns hurt even though he knows your words are right.

“Matthew, I stopped being your friend because you stopped being friends with me.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Matthew mumbles and opting to look down at his plate instead of at you where he’d much rather be looking.

“You stopped being my friend after we graduated from elementary school. I remember that the third Sunday dinner we had that summer was the first time you stopped sitting next to me, and I knew that you were officially not my friend anymore.”

“You sure that’s what happened, Yn? Are you sure that it wasn’t you who stopped being my friend?”

“I always sat in the same middle seat, Matthew. You opted to sit in Brady’s seat instead.”

“Fine, whatever. Agree to disagree?”

“Sure, sure, even though I’m right.”

Matthew laughs at your words and shakes his head. “How we were ever friends baffles me because we are both so stubborn.”

“That we are,” you agree, and a comfortable silence fills your kitchen as you and Matthew continue to eat.

“You know,” Matthew says breaking the silence, “I do know you better than you think.”

“As do I,” you tell him not meeting his eye. You always were quite observant of Matthew despite you two not being friends anymore. There was something about him that made you want to look at him. No, it probably wasn’t because of how gorgeous he was.

“Okay, you tell me something about myself, then.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Yn; you just say something.”

“But I want you to tell me what you want me to say,” you tease.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know anything about me,” Matthew gives you his signature smirk.

“I’m starting to think the same about you.”

Matthew sighs and shakes his head. “How about we talk about our situation instead?”

“Our ruse?” you tease and quirk your eyebrows.

“Sure, our ruse,” Matthew says, not sure why you had that look on your face. “What is our story? We could just say we hooked up and realized that we liked each other.”

“As much as that story is believable, I don’t think that Shelly will believe that. Why don’t we go with something else? How about: I was lonely in the city and needed someone familiar, so I called you, and the rest just fell together.”

“I don’t think they’ll believe that,” Matthew says. As much as he loves and thinks it’s a good story, he’d very much rather have a bit more romantic and loving story, so Matthew can have the fake relationship he’d always wanted with you.

“Oh, come on, Matthew, it’s perfect!” you pout, and Matthew knows he’s going to bend for you because it’s you. He always bent to your will regardless of whether or not you knew it.

“Fine, we’ll use your story. How long have we been dating?”

“Why don’t we just keep it vague to minimize any questions? Should we say a few months now? Anything longer will be suspicious, and anything shorter would be weird. The most we can say is three to three and a half months because when I talked to Shelly about two months ago, she was under the impression I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

“Okay, fair. You know,” Matthew says with a smirk, “the fact that you’re able to throw together the perfect fake-dating story makes me think that you’ve done this before.”

You burst out laughing. “You seriously think that? I thought you knew me.”

“I do know you.”

“Then you’d know I’m a hopeless romantic, and the amount of times I’ve read fake dating romance novels is unbelievable. The only thing, though, is that our story won’t end up with us dating but with us maybe being friends.”

“Right,” Matthew says, and he looks down at his plate sadly realizing you truly didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m sorry, did I say anything wrong?” you apologize. You weren’t sure why Matthew suddenly got upset, but you thought it couldn’t have possibly been your words. How could it? You and Matthew have hated each other for years. It’d be ridiculous to think that this ruse would end in an actual relationship.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry,” Matthew sends you a soft smile, and your stomach does somersaults. “What about physical stuff?”

You glare at Matthew trying to figure out exactly what he was asking for in this fake relationship. “Explain because if you’re trying to sleep with me, it’s not happening.”

“No, Yn, of course not! That’s not what I meant!” Matthew replies shocked that you’d even bring up the notion. “No, I meant like holding hands, my arms wrapped around you, kissing and stuff like that. Things that couples do, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, um, I guess we could hold hands and touch each other to keep up the facade, but only in public.”

Matthew nods. “Only in public.”

You make moves to clear the table, but Matthew stops you and clears the table for you. “Sit, I’ll take care of it.”

“Matthew —” you begin.

“Nope, my fake girlfriend doesn’t need to clear her table, so sit down.”

“Maybe you should be my fake-boyfriend forever if you’re going to be clearing my table and stuff like this.”

“I mean if you’d like,” Matthew smirks and sends you a wink. He continues cleaning up by placing the dishes in the dishwasher and placing the leftovers in a Tupperware container and inside the fridge. You’re watching him concentrate on the task at hand, and suddenly, you’re drawn to his lips. You were drawn to the way he bit his lip in concentration and licked the bottom lip now and then. You watched the way he’d stop biting his lips and realize that you want to be the one to bite his lip. You wanted to kiss Matthew.

“Hey, um, Matthew?” you begin hesitantly.

“Mmm,” he replies looking up.

“Should we, um, kiss?” your eyes don’t meet Matthew’s, and you’re intent on staring at the tiles on the floor of your kitchen instead.

“I mean, sure, when we’re out in public. It’d be weird if we didn’t, right?”

“Right,” you nod knowingly and happy that Matthew didn’t realize the true meaning of your request. You look up and notice him watching you curiously. The sparkle in his eyes makes your face warm under his gaze, and you know that he’s figured out what you were truly thinking.

“Or,” he begins with a smirk, “we could practice now, so we know what to do when we kiss in front of people.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” you whisper, barely audible.

Matthew, being the pest he is, smirks at your words and asks you to repeat them. “I couldn’t hear you, baby. I need you to repeat it.”

“I think that we should practice kissing,” you say again, slightly louder, but Matthew’s shit-eating grin tells you that you’re going to have to repeat yourself.

“Come on, baby, I need to hear you loud and clear,” he walks over to you, and you shift in your seat to face him. You stand up, so you’re level with him (as much as you can be considering his height), and Matthew puts his hands on your waist. “This okay?” he asks, and you nod, but when he raises his eyebrows, you know you have to give him audible consent.

“Yes, Matthew, and I think that you should kiss me,” you tell him loud and clear. Matthew’s grin widens, and he dips his head towards yours. You put your hands around his neck, and he pulls you closer to him.

“This okay?” he asks with concern lacing his features. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.

“More than okay,” you reply and lean towards him. Matthew dips his head towards yours and places his lips softly on yours. He planned on pulling back and that being the end of the kiss, but his instincts and strong desire to kiss you stopped him. Matthew’s hands leave your waist and cup your face. He holds you forcefully but also gently. You both deepen the kiss, and your mouth separates as Matthew works his mouth against yours. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip begging to meet his. Matthew puts his hands back on your waist and pulls you close and flush against his body. There’s no space between the two of you, not a single inch of air. You both pull away after the kiss crossed the line between what your relationship truly was. You both pull away but your heads are still close to each other. You’re looking into Matthew’s blue eyes that are laced with longing and desire. You watch Matthew’s eyes glance down to your lips as you long for his lips to be on yours again.

“We have the practice, now,” Matthew says in a deep voice, almost huskily.

“That we do,” you reply softly.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Absolutely not, Matthew. I would have slapped you if you stepped out of line,” you tell him, and Matthew’s deep chuckle sends the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You take a step back from Matthew and sit back in your chair. “Maybe if we kiss in front of people, it shouldn’t be that deep and passionate.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” Matthew tells you. He loved kissing you. Now that he’s kissed you, he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else. He wants to keep kissing you for as long as you would possibly let him. “Oh, that reminds me.”

“Mmhm?”

“I may or may not have let the cat slip out of the bag that I had a girlfriend, and now the team is expecting you to be at the last game tomorrow and our celebration.”

“Matthew!”

“I know, I know, I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!”

“How does it just slip out?”

“Some people asked if I had a date for the Gala, and I said I was bringing my girlfriend.”

“So, I have to go to the game tomorrow?”

“Please?” Matthew pouts. “I’ll owe you big time.”

“You already owe me big time,” you point out.

“Fine, just come to the game tomorrow? You don’t have to wear my jersey or anything, just come?”

“I’ll be there, and if you give me a jersey, I’ll wear it, okay? Or, I can just wear Brady’s.”

“No, never. Wait, why do you have Brady’s jersey and not mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Matthew asks as he walks over to the door. You walk with him and unlock the door.

“See you tomorrow, fake boyfriend,” you tell him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Tomorrow, fake girlfriend,” Matthew says and walks out the door. When the door is closed, he places his hands on his cheek where you kissed him. He touches his lips softly remembering how you kissed him just recently. Just remembering your mouth being anywhere near his face made him melt. Matthew was digging himself into a hole he only hoped he’d be able to escape from.

. . .

You walked up to the Friends & Family box still trying to recover from Matthew kissing you barely twenty-four hours prior. You didn’t have Matthew’s jersey to wear, so you opted for a red shirt with jeans and a leather jacket. You’ve also never met anyone on the team before, so you were scared as to what they would say.

You stepped into the box and were instantly overwhelmed with what you saw. All the other wives and girlfriends and children were mingling around, and you felt out of place. One of the WAGs walked over to you, and said, “You must be Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that would be me.”

“I’m Annica, Elias’s girlfriend. Don’t worry about being nervous or whatever, Matthew is crazy about you, so we’re automatically crazy about you, too! Everyone, this is Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You stood there as everyone introduced themselves, and you maybe remembered two of those names.

“Matthew left you a jersey because he knew you didn’t have one,” Lauren, Mark’s wife, tells you. She hands you the jersey, and you look at it. Were you supposed to put it on? “You can just put it on over your shirt and leave your jacket on a chair.”

You nod. You put on the jersey and look down at the number on your sleeve. You smiled. You liked the way it looked on you.

Watching the game with the other girls was interesting and exciting. You chatted with the other women and played with the children. It was exhilarating to be in the Saddledome during a game, especially the last of the season. You haven’t been to a game in Calgary despite living there. Every time the Tkachuks came to town, you always told them you couldn’t go to the game. It didn’t feel right, but now that you’ve been to a game, you wanted to keep coming to the games. The Flames ended up coming out on top to celebrate their final game, and the arena was loud and bursting with happiness. You followed behind as everyone walked to outside the locker rooms to wait for the team. You stood awkwardly, not sure what to do. You played with your jacket in your hand just as Matthew walked out. He spotted you instantly, and his heart lurched through his chest as he saw you in his jersey. His eyes widened at seeing his number on your arm, and if possible, he fell more in love with you.

“Hey,” he says as he walks over. You look up and give him a wide smile.

“Hi,” you tell him and pull your fake boyfriend into a large hug as you whisper in his ear, “you played amazing.”

Your words send shivers down Matthew’s spine, and he holds you tightly. “Thank you.”

You both pull away and notice some of Matthew’s teammates and significant others greeting each other with congratulatory kisses. Were you both supposed to kiss? “Should we kiss, Matthew?” you whisper.

“What?” he whispers back, not sure if he heard you properly.

“You heard me, should we kiss? Everyone else is.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Would it be awkward if we didn’t?”

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your response as he hungrily leans down and kisses you. Despite kissing you yesterday, Matthew was waiting earnestly for the day he’d get to kiss you again. It wasn’t as passionate as the night before, but somehow, it was even more intimate despite being in public. You both full away flushed with the kiss, and Matthew’s teammates holler around you both. “Oh, shut up.”

Matthew leads you to his car and holds your hand. “Did you want to come to celebrate with us?” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought that was part of this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but not everyone is going out, so if you don’t want to, we can just head to my place.”

“We can go to your place, then.”

“Okay,” Matthew says to you and opens the car door for you. He closes the door and heads towards the driver’s side. When he gets in, he asks, “How did you get here if I’m driving you home?”

“Oh, I walked because I don’t work too far from here,” you explain, and Matthew whips his heat towards you. “What?”

“You walked? Do you not have a car?” he asks as if the notion were beyond him.

“Yeah, it was like ten minutes.”

“If you didn’t have a ride or something, I would have sent someone to pick you up.”

“I walk to work, Matthew.”

“You walk? No, from now on, I will be driving you to work and wherever you need to be.”

You giggle to yourself softly. “I have a car, but I just walk to work because it’s only five minutes.”

“No, I refuse to let you walk to work.”

“Matthew,” you say gently and place your hand on his thigh. “I’m fine, I promise, okay?”

Matthew looks at the soft look in your eyes and the anger he has dissipated. “Okay, but if you ever need a ride somewhere, please just let me know, and I’ll drive you, okay?”

“Okay, but I do have a car, you know,” you tell him, and Matthew starts the car and heads towards his apartment. Why was Matthew so concerned and angry about the fact that you don’t drive to work? You ponder the thought and are so deep in trying to figure it out that you don’t realize that you’ve reached Matthew’s apartment until he tells you so.

“You okay?” Matthew asks as you’re standing in the elevator.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Not sure, you seem kind of spaced out.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay.”

“Promise?” Matthew asks.

“Promise,” you reply with a smile.

You and Matthew walk into his apartment, and your breath is taken away by the view of Matthew’s apartment. You take your shoes off and just stand there staring. You drop your purse and bag on the floor and walk over to the window in a trance.

“Yn, you good?” Matthew asks, confused about your actions.

“It’s just so pretty, Matthew,” you say and reach for your phone in your back pocket and take a photo. Matthew can’t help but smile at your actions. Sure, the view was pretty to him, but he saw it each day, so it wasn’t as special to him. Watching you take in the view, though, gave Matthew a new insight into how pretty the view truly was. Maybe, just maybe, Matthew was staring at you, looking beautiful with the dim lighting of his living room and wearing his jersey, instead of the view, but it didn’t matter. It was beautiful, and if he was talking about you? Then, so be it!

“I’m just going to get changed real quick, okay?” Matthew asks. He didn’t want to leave you standing there alone, but he knows he won’t be comfortable in his suit. “I can stay if you want.”

You giggle to yourself. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but —”

“Go,” you push Matthew in the direction of his room. “I’ll be fine.” Matthew looks behind him once more to you; you give him a pointed look, and Matthew walks to his room to change.

You settle yourself on the couch and sit there staring at the TV stand. On it are sitting picture frames with photos of Matthew’s family and friends. One photo, in particular, stands out to you. You get up and walk to the photo and smile at it. You pick it up and stare at it. It was a photo of Brady, Taryn, Matthew, your brother, and you. You don’t remember the photo being taken but it was around when you were six or seven. You were sitting at the table in Tkachuk's backyard before dinner. Matthew was sitting on your right, as he should, and with Taryn on your left.

“Find anything interesting?” Matthew asks as he walks out. He walks over to you and rests an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m surprised you have a photo of me sitting here,” you tell him and look at him.

“Why?” Matthew furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“I just, I don’t know.”

Matthew walks over to the couch and sits. You place the photo back on the stand and join him. You sit next to him on your right, and Matthew, again, rests an arm around your shoulder. “I have photos of the important people in my life.”

Matthew turns on the TV and begins flipping through Netflix. He selects one of your favorite movies, and you’re surprised he knows it, but then again, Matthew seems to know more about you than you realized.

As the movie continues, you and Matthew move closer and closer together to the point where you’re cuddled into him and your head moves in sync with Matthew’s breathing. The warmth that Matthew’s body exudes and the pattern of his breaths put you to sleep. When Matthew notices you’ve fallen asleep, he doesn’t want to wake you, so he tightens his hold on you and grabs the blanket that was sitting over the couch (he silently thanks his mom for making him put it there), and he places it on you. He softly kisses your forehead with a soft, ”goodnight, Yn.”

. . .

The next morning, after you’ve woken up, eaten breakfast that Matthew made for you, and left for the day, Matthew was on his way to the Saddledome for the exit interviews of the season. It didn’t end the way the team wanted, but they fought tooth and nail until the last game, and they should be proud of that.

As Matthew walks into the locker room, he has a soft smile on his face of pure bliss.

“So, what did you and Yn do last night?” Noah teases when he sees his teammate. “You’re never one to turn down a night out.”

“I didn’t go out because Yn didn’t want to. I think she was overwhelmed with meeting everyone, and I just wanted her to be comfortable.”

“Wow, Matthew, look at you maturing for the better,” Mark teases. He was waiting for the day that Matthew would meet a girl and act this way for her.

“Whatever,” Matthew rolls his eyes.

“Matthew’s in looooove,” someone teases and everyone else laughs in response. Matthew, again, just rolls his eyes in response. He had no other response.

Matthew only wishes that the person he was in love with was him, too.

. . .

You’re standing outside Matthew’s apartment door with your dress in your hand with a bag of the things you needed to get ready over your shoulder. You took a deep breath. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you were. You were about to ring the doorbell, but Matthew opened the door first.

“How did you know I was here?” you ask as you walk into his apartment.

“I mean, I had to buzz you into the building, so I was waiting for you,” Matthew says as if it were obvious.

“Oh.”

“You can shower first. I probably take less time than you to get ready, so you can shower first.”

You nod. “Okay, can I hang up my dress in your closet?”

“Yeah, of course. What color is it? I probably should have asked before, so that we could match.”

You smile. “It’s a lavender color. I doubt you own anything lavender.”

“My mom bought me a lavender dress shirt for Christmas, so, yes, I do own something lavender.”

You giggle to yourself softly and head into his bedroom to hand up your dress. You walk into his washroom and set your things there. “Thank you, Matthew.”

“No need to thank me,” he tells you. “I left you towels and stuff. Just let me know when I can shower, okay?”

You nod. You’re not sure why you’re suddenly at a loss for words. What was it with Matthew?

After you showered, Matthew told you that, if you were comfortable, you could use the washroom as he showered. You told him it was fine and began styling your hair just as Matthew was showering. You were halfway done when you heard Matthew turn off the water. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he grabs the towel from behind the shower curtain. You try to calm your breathing as you watch Matthew step out of the shower with the towel wrapped low on his hips and his broad shoulders and chest lined with water droplets. He stands next to you and begins to moisturize his face. You feel your face warm as you stand next to him.

Matthew walks out of the washroom, but he stops at the door and turns to you. “I’ll get ready in my bedroom, and you can get ready here. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll let you change in the bedroom.”

“Thanks, Matthew.”

“Sure,” he says and takes one step out of the washroom before stopping again. “Hey, yn?”

“Yes?” you turn to him.

“Your hair looks really pretty.”

“I haven’t finished, yet,” you point out.

“Fine, but I know for a fact that you’re going to look so incredibly beautiful.”

. . .

You put on your shoes and look at yourself once more in the mirror. You observe the way you look and take a deep breath. You take your steps out of the bedroom, and Matthew stands when he hears the clack of your heels. Matthew takes a deep breath, getting ready to see how beautiful you will undoubtedly look.

“Hey,” you say and stand in front of Matthew. You smile, and your breath stops when you see Matthew. He’s wearing a lavender shirt that matches your dress with a black tie, jacket, and pants. His clothes fit him perfectly, and it displays his body just the way clothes should.

“Hey,” he replies, and his breath stops, too. You were beautiful. The lavender gown hung on your body perfectly, and it accentuated each and every curve of your body perfectly. The color brought out your eyes, and they shone in the light. The dim light of Matthew’s apartment reflected off the design and details of your dress that Matthew knew he was going to be speechless when the light of the ballroom truly lit you up. “You’re beautiful, Yn. Gorgeous, yn!”

“Thank you,” you say bashfully and walk over to your fake boyfriend. You place your hands on his chest and straighten his tie. “You look amazing, too, Matthew.”

Matthew’s breath is shallow as you run your hands on his chest. His heart is beating through his chest, and he knows that he’s going to have to use all his energy and brainpower not to stare at you the entire night. You stop and rest your hands on his chest. “Ready to go?” you ask.

Matthew audibly swallows at your touch. “Yeah,” he says in a low voice. He takes your hand and leads you towards the door. “Did you want to put your stuff in your car and drive home, or do you want to just stay the night and drive home in the morning?”

“Can I stay the night?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Matthew won’t admit it, but he wanted you to stay the night.

As Matthew drives to the location of the Gala, he continues taking peeks at you. He isn’t sure what he’s done to get someone as beautiful as you as his date, but he’s thanking any and every higher being for blessing him with you.

Throughout the entire night, Matthew has to force himself to leave you for moments every now and then to do his job. It was difficult. He wanted to be right by your side and show the world how lucky he got to be right next to you. You were the star, and Matthew was one of your many admirers. When Matthew wasn’t talking to donors and was right next to you, he found it difficult to speak. When you’d ask a question or make a comment, Matthew would take a few seconds to reply because of you. Your laughter, your smile, and your perfume were intoxicating, and Matthew wasn’t sure how he would make it through the rest of the night.

Annica wanted to grab another drink from the bar, so you went with her. Matthew, reluctantly, removed his hand from the small of your back and watched you lovingly as you went off with Annica. When he lost sight of you, Matthew finally turned his attention back to the group at the table.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not whipped for her and in love with her,” Elias says.

“Matthew not in love, who?” Noah jokes.

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew says. It didn’t matter if he was in love with you because you weren’t in love with him.

“Look, the minute Yn comes back, Matthew is going to put a hand on her, either on her shoulder or on her back, smile down at her, and pull her close to him. I guarantee it,” Jacob says. He was watching the two of you interact the entire night, and he knows that this will happen as it happened every time you and Matthew got separated.

“I see your point, and I raise you with this: he’s going to lean down and kiss Yn on the forehead,” Johnny adds.

“I see both your points, and I raise you with this: Matthew’s going to look at Yn, and she’s going to look at him, and they will both smile widely at each other,” Elias points out.

“Are you guys betting again?” Mark asks as he settles himself at the table as he’s making his rounds.

“Kind of. We’re trying to figure out how Yn and Matthew are going to act when she returns,” Noah explains.

“Oh, drop the subject,” Matthew says, annoyed.

“I’m not sure what has been said, but I guess that Matthew will be so enthralled by his date that everything in the world will fade away,” Mark says, “because that’s what a person in love does.”

“Look, I’m not in love with Yn, okay? Can we just drop the subject before Yn and Annica return?” Matthew replies exasperatedly.

Everyone agrees, but they all know that they will be monitoring your and Matthew’s actions when you return. Just a few moments later, you and Annica are returning to the table with a refill of drinks. You settle in next to Matthew and place a glass of wine down for you and a glass of beer for him.

“You were empty, so I got you a refill,” you tell him.

“Thank you,” he says to you and places a hand on the small of your back where it was before you left. You lean in further to him, and Matthew smiles down at you as you engage in conversation with Mark. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead, and you look up and smile at Matthew who smiles back at you. Elias mentions Matthew’s name, but Matthew is too soaked up in your presence to notice. The group is shocked. Every single one of them guessed correctly what Matthew would do when you returned.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Mark begins, “I’m going to go ask the Mrs. for a dance.”

Elias and Annica leave, too, and head to the dance floor. You stand there awkwardly wondering if you and Matthew should dance. Matthew leans his head towards yours and whispers, “Do you want to dance, Yn?”

You look at Matthew and nod with a smile. Matthew takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. He takes one hand in his and the other rests on the bare skin of your upper back. You place your other hand not in Matthew’s on his shoulder and move close to him. You both sway to the music that’s playing. As you both continue to dance, Matthew’s hand draws soft patterns on your skin sending electric shocks through your body. As the song comes to an end, the bubble you and Matthew found yourself in slowly pops, and you return to reality. It didn’t matter how special dancing with each other was, you were both not truly dating. You were living a lie, and you knew it would hurt when, one day, the ruse was over. You only hoped that you could salvage your feelings and not hurt your heart too much. You weren’t sure, though, what you were trying to save your heart from.

. . .

“Ready to head home?” Matthew whispers into your ear as you’re talking with some of the WAGs. You nod and say goodbye to the ladies. Matthew wraps his suit jacket around your shoulders as he notices you’re cold and takes your hand in his. “Thank you for being my date.”

You smile. “Thank you for taking me. I had a lot of fun.”

“I had a lot of fun with the beautiful person as my date.”

“Oh, beautiful person? Who may they be?” you tease.

“They’re you, of course. The most beautiful of people.”

“You flatter me, Matthew.”

“You deserve all the compliments in the world, Yn,” Matthew squeezes your hand and opens the car door for you. You smile in gratitude as he closes the door and heads to the driver's side. You smile in happiness at the evening you had. Matthew intertwines his hand with yours as he drives. With the late hour and the comfort of Matthew’s hand, you feel your eyes drift closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you did.

“Yn? You have to wake up; we’re back at my apartment, now,” Matthew says softly as he strokes your face softly to wake you.

You slowly open your eyes, and your lips quirk up at the sound of Matthew’s soft voice. You nod and move to get out of the car.

“No, no, I’ll get the door for you,” Matthew interrupts. You’re too tired to argue, so you just let Matthew rush out of the car to open the door for you. Matthew leads you back to his apartment and ushers you into his bedroom. “You can sleep here, and I’ll take the guest room.”

“No, Matthew, I’ll take the guest room,” you interject.

“No, Yn. You did me the biggest favor by coming as my date tonight, so you can take my bed.”

“Matthew —” you were going to point out that you were taking him to Shelly’s wedding, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Yn, just take the bed, okay? You can grab a shirt and sweatpants to wear to bed.”

You nod, and Matthew walks out of the room with clothes for himself. He closes the door quietly behind him as he heads to the guest room. His one wish was that he was sleeping in that bed with you instead of you there alone.

. . .

“Yn, come on, we have to go,” Matthew says, standing in your kitchen and waiting for you to be ready to leave.

“Just give me a moment. We’ve got quite a bit of time, still.”

“You know, you’re the one who told me I had to be here at exactly this time, Yn, so you should be ready to go.”

You walk out of your bedroom lugging your suitcase and purse. Matthew rushes over to you and takes your suitcase out of your hand. In the process, Matthew’s hand brushes over yours, and you hear your heartbeat in your ears as the heat rushes to your face. “Let me just make sure that all the windows are closed and that I unplugged everything.”

When you return and are completely ready to go, you lock the door to your apartment and head to Matthew’s car. He opens the trunk to place your suitcase in, and as usual, Matthew opens the car door for you.

“You know, you don’t have to always open the car door for me, right?” you tell him.

“Just doing what any boyfriend would,” Matthew points out. “Fake or not.”

“Right,” you say. It’s been a while since you or he pointed out the fakeness of your relationship, and you almost forgot. Almost. Matthew turns to you and opens his mouth to say something, but he isn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. How is he supposed to ask if you’re upset that he pointed out that you were both fake dating despite that being the obvious title between you two? You reach to turn on some music to try to ease the awkwardness in the car. You put on Taylor Swift, and Matthew groans in response.

“You know the way Taryn and I were growing up; I can’t believe you’re shocked.”

“I thought you’d show me some mercy, you know as your boyfriend?”

“I show zero mercy.”

. . .

Going through checking in and security was a breeze. You got on the plane fine just, but the nerves immediately hit as the pilot announced that the doors were closing. Your leg begins to bounce up and down, and you begin to fiddle with your fingers. Matthew glances down at you and notices your nerves.

“You’ve been on a plane before, right?” he whispers.

You nod. “Just scary sometimes.”

He nods and places his hand on your thigh causing it to stop bouncing. You feel all your nerves suddenly dissipate. “I’m here, okay? Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you whisper back. Matthew lifts the armrest between you both and scoots closer to you. He pulls you into his side, so you’re leaning against him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and Matthew takes your hand in his.

“It’s not a long flight. You’ll be okay.”

. . .

“Hey, you have to wake up,” Matthew whispers as he strokes your head softly. Your eyes flutter open. You didn’t realize you fell asleep on Matthew during the flight. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” you yawn.

Matthew smiles softly at you. “You slept through the flight, so that’s good.”

“Oh, we landed?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, let’s get off this plane, what do you say?”

You grab your purse from under the seat in front of you, and Matthew grabs his carry-on from the overhead bin. He packed significantly more than you because he wasn’t flying home with you. Matthew would be staying in St. Louis until he flies back to Calgary for training camp.

Matthew extends his hand for you, and you take it. He walks into the aisle first with one hand holding his bag and the other behind him holding your hand. You both exit the plane and head towards customs and baggage claims.

You take a deep breath once you’re in line for customs. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t realize the nerves that would come with it. Would you be able to survive this week with Matthew?

. . .

“You go in first and get us settled; I’ll pay for the taxi,” you tell Matthew when your taxi pulls up to the hotel.

“Nope, you go in; I pay,” Matthew counters.

“Matthew —”

“I am your boyfriend, no? Just let me do this.”

“Okay,” you relent softly and head into the hotel with your luggage in tow. You head to the check-in desk. There isn’t a line, and you get your room information and key quickly. You meet Matthew at where he’s standing and lead him towards the elevator door. You both wait for the elevator in silence and walk inside in the same silence. You lead him towards your eighth-floor room and walk inside. “I made sure to request two beds, so we don’t have to share.”

“Smart,” Matthew says. You unlock the door and walk inside. You groan when you see the layout of the room and what it contains — one bed.

“Oh,” you mumble. “Only one bed.”

“What? Oh,” Matthew says as he stands next to you.

“Let me call down and see if they have another room for us.”

Matthew nods. He was frozen solid at the thought of sleeping next to you. He watches as you walk over to the phone and call down to the front desk. You tell them your issue, and Matthew watches as you furrow your eyebrows in frustration. You end the call with a “thank you, it’s no problem” and look to Matthew.

“What’s the verdict?” Matthew asks.

“They have three wedding parties staying here and no extra room with two beds for us.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Matthew suggests.

You shake your head. “We’re both adults. I’m sure we can sleep in the same bed without any issues arising.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Matthew breathes out. His throat is dry and the words are barely forming on his tongue. You nod towards Matthew and begin unpacking. You hang up your dresses in the closet and line your shoes against the wall.

“Make sure you hang up your suit, so it doesn’t get wrinkly,” you remind Matthew as you head to the washroom to unpack your toiletries. Matthew nods and does what you say. He isn’t sure why he’s suddenly so nervous and clammy, but he figures it’s because you are both going to be sleeping in the same bed. You both move in sync with each other as you settle into the hotel room. Once Matthew has finished, he settles on the couch and turns the TV on. You awkwardly get on the couch, and Matthew chuckles at you.

It would be a restful night, right?

. . .

After meeting with the rest of the bridal party and making sure everything was perfect for the rehearsal the next day and the wedding the day after, you head into your hotel room and see Matthew sitting on the bed.

“Hey,” you say as you get ready to shower.

“How were your preparations?” he asks.

“Not bad. I’m tired, but it’s all worth it if Shelly gets the wedding of her dreams.”

Matthew nods.

“I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed; if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Matthew replies as you head to the washroom to shower. While in the shower, you did everything in your power to prolong your time there because you knew that when you finished, you’d be going to sleep. You’d be going to be sleeping in the same bed as Matthew.

Once you’ve showered and gotten ready for the night, you walk out of the washroom and see Matthew standing next to the bed.

“I pulled out the blankets and stuff when I heard the tap turn off,” Matthew bashfully tells you when you notice the bed. “I figured you’re tired and stuff, so I was trying to help.”

You smile softly at the man. “Thank you, Matthew.”

He nods at your words. “What do we do now? Should we call down for more pillows and make, like, a pillow wall?”

“Um, I don’t think we have to do that. It’s big enough where we probably won’t get in each other’s way.”

“Yeah, probably,” Matthew lies. He isn’t sure if now is the right time to mention he’s an active sleeper and moves around a lot. “You can get in first.”

“Okay,” you say and move towards the bed. You get under the covers and sigh at the comfort of the bed. You lay on your back, a position that isn’t the most comfortable for you. When you’re done, Matthew gets under the covers, and he, too, lays on his back. You don’t think it’s the most comfortable for him, either. You lean over to turn the lights off, so the entire room is cascaded in darkness. “Good night, Matthew.”

“Night, Yn.”

You both lay there in awkward silence and stare up at the ceiling. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to talk to each other until the other fell asleep? Was it okay to face each other as you slept? What happened if you woke up in a compromising position? Would your friendship (was this a friendship?) be awkward? What would the morning be like? How awkward would it be? Should you be thinking about the fact that Matthew wasn’t wearing a shirt next to you? No, you shouldn’t be, but here you are thinking about Matthew’s bare chest.

You took a deep breath and hoped for sleep to easily overcome you.

Thankfully, it did. You fell asleep, and when your alarm went off, you were surprised you slept through the night. It was one of the best nights of sleep of your life. The pillows and blankets exuded this comfort and warmth that cocooned you and made it easy to fall asleep. When you opened your eyes, you were shocked by the sight in front of you. You blinked your eyes to make sure you weren’t still dreaming. Nope, you definitely weren’t dreaming.

Matthew Tkachuk, your fake boyfriend and boy who has hated you since you were ten, was cuddling you into his chest. Not only that, his arms were wound tightly around your waist with your forehead comfortably on his chest. Both of your legs were intertwined with each other, and your arms were grasping his waist. No wonder you slept so well.

“Oh, good morning,” Matthew says quietly. You look up at him and notice that it looks like he’s been up for a little bit.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask.

“Wow, no good morning? I’m hurt,” Matthew pouts.

“Good morning, Matthew; how long have you been awake?”

“About half an hour?”

“And you didn’t wake me knowing we were sleeping like this?” you say annoyed and slowly pull away. Once you’re fully out of his grasp, you wish you remained in his grasp. Matthew’s body exuded this comfort and warmth that made you happy and comfortable. You wished you could return to Matthew’s hold and embrace without it seeming weird.

“You were very comfortable, it looked like, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and I figured you’d be more upset if I woke you, so I didn’t. Are you upset that I didn’t wake you?”

You ponder over his last question for a moment. No, you weren’t upset that he woke you. “No, it’s okay. I just slightly overreacted.”

“No need to apologize. You reacted just fine.”

You nod. “I have to get ready for wedding stuff, but we can go down to get breakfast together.”

“Yes, whatever you say,” Matthew replies and watches you get out of bed and towards your suitcase and washroom. Matthew wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was up for hours. He got up hours before because he was warm and needed to turn the AC up higher, but when he realized the situation you were both in, Matthew refused to get up. When else would Matthew be able to hold the person he’s been in love with his entire life who doesn’t love him back?

. . .

“You have the rehearsal tonight, right?” Matthew asks from outside the washroom as you’re doing your makeup. He walks over to the dresser and begins looking at the jewelry you’ve laid across it.

“Yeah, sorry that I can’t bring you. It’s a small thing with just Shelly’s family and bridal party. That means, though, that our big fake dating debut will be tomorrow at the reception,” you say from the washroom. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m having dinner with my parents at a restaurant around the corner. I know you said that you have a ride to and from where you have to be, but if you need a ride, just call me, okay?”

You smile to yourself from the washroom where Matthew can’t see you. There was something about his concern that made you smile like crazy. “Okay, Matthew. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he begins. “I am your boyfriend after all.” He mutters under his breath the word “fake” with a scowl. He hated being just your fake boyfriend.

You begin to pack your things back into your toiletries bag so as not to leave a mess, and you walk out of the washroom. “How do I look?” you ask when you’re in full view of Matthew. He immediately looks up from where he was staring at your necklace, and his jaw drops.

“Wow, you — I, wow! You’re gorgeous, Yn,” Matthew says with wonder and awe in his eyes. You take your hands and place them on the hem of your skirt and look down. Matthew walks over to you and takes one of your hands and twirls you. You giggle in response, and Matthew catches you with his hands on your waist. “You’re beautiful, Yn.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead and takes a step back to admire you.

“I get to be your date tomorrow? Aren’t I the luckiest guy on the planet?”

You giggle again and make your way to the dresser to put on the necklace sitting there. It’s a matching necklace you and Shelly both bought at the age of 18. “Can you help me put it on?”

Matthew’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he soaks you in and your request. He nods and takes the necklace gently from you. You turn around, so your back is to him, and Matthew places the necklace around your neck. He fiddles with the clasp and whispers a soft “there you go” when he’s finished. You turn around and look into his eyes.

“Thank you, Matthew,” you say nervously but hide it with a smile. You’re not sure why you’re nervous, but you suddenly are. Maybe it was the intimacy of the act Matthew just performed for you. “Have fun with your family tonight.”

“Have fun at the rehearsal! Text me when you’re on your way back, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply as you slip on your shoes and make your way towards the door. “Night, Matthew.”

You walk out the door before Matthew could respond. “Night,” he says even though it’s pointless. In his head, Matthew is replaying the vision of you walking out in your blush pink dress and how beautiful you looked. Matthew knows that whoever gets to be the one to call you their girlfriend will be the luckiest person in the world. He only wishes he were the one.

. . .

Matthew walks into the restaurant his family picked, still reeling from how beautiful you looked. It was at that moment when Matthew saw you when he realized he was truly gone. Matthew has dug himself into a hole that he knows he’s never going to get out of. Now that Matthew has experienced you as a date, in his arms in his apartment, at one of his games, kissing you, and sleeping next to you, Matthew knows that no one else will compare to you. He knows that when this ruse is over, he will be heartbroken beyond repair. Is he choosing to do something about it? Nope, not at all because to him, if he can have even a little bit of you, even if it’s under the guise of being fake, then he’ll take it.

He sits at the table his parents and siblings were already at and greets them. It’s not even two seconds after he sits before they all corner him about dating you.

“So, you and Yn, huh?” Brady smirks.

“Don’t start, please,” Matthew warns.

“I’ll start, then,” Taryn prompts. “I can’t believe you finally got Yn to date you after you’ve harbored a crush on her for all these years and hated her.”

“Can we not?” Matthew asks.

“Nope, not happening, we are going to question you about every single detail. Who knows, maybe you two will be the next ones to get married.”

“Okay, Taryn, take a step back,” Keith chuckles.

“I think you should take a step forward,” Brady prompts. “Considering how head over heels Matthew has been, Taryn’s right.”

Matthew just rolls his eyes and sighs. “Can we just order and have a normal meal, please?”

“This conversation isn’t over yet,” Taryn warns, and Matthew just rolls his eyes.

After deciding what to eat and ordering, Taryn was true to her word and began to question Matthew about his dating life. “How did it start? What was your first date like? Did Yn slap you when you first asked her out? I need details, Matthew!”

“Did you ever consider that Yn and I want privacy about our relationship?” Matthew snaps.

“Right, but this is the weirdest pairing ever, so I feel like I should get something out of you,” Taryn defends herself.

“There isn’t much to say. A few months back, Yn called me saying she needed a familiar face because she was homesick, so we met up. We realized that we liked each other and here we are.”

Chantal gives her son a curious look. That was the exact statement and explanation that you gave her when she called you a few weeks after she found out about you and Matthew. Either that was the reality of the situation or you both practiced this many times. Chantal thinks it’s probably the latter because she knows her son. She knows that if you and Matthew were for real, then he’d be telling everyone how much he liked you.

“That’s it? I thought there’d be more! Something more romantic or something,” Taryn pouts, and Matthew just shrugs. He wishes he could have made a more romantic story for how you both started dating because that’s what you deserve, but you wouldn’t have any of it.

“I agree with Taryn,” Brady adds. “Yn, as we know, is a hopeless romantic. I’m surprised you haven’t stepped up your game to match Yn’s romantic side.”

“Look, maybe we do have a romantic relationship, but we just want to keep it private,” Matthew growls.

“Alright, let’s just let the topic go,” Chantal interjects and inserts an out for Matthew. “Will you be sitting with us tomorrow?”

“During the ceremony, probably because Yn is part of the procession and all that. I’m not sure during the reception, though, because I think it’s open seating.”

“Okay, that’s understandable,” Chantal says just as their meals arrive. Matthew lets out a sigh of relief. He was able to keep the story about your ruse straight and evade any questions that could poke holes into the story. He could only wish that what was happening between you two was real.

. . .

Just as Matthew was getting interrogated by his family, your brother and Shelly were on their way to interrogate you. It was after the rehearsal, and everyone in attendance was at the restaurant catching up. Your brother walks over to you and whispers that Shelly wants to talk to you. Being the maid of honor, you figured that she needed help with last-minute wedding preparations. You weren’t expecting an ambush.

Your brother leads you to where Shelly’s sitting, and you expect him to leave. However, when he sits right next to you with Shelly across from you, you know that you’re getting interrogated.

“Don’t you have to go be with your pregnant wife?” you ask your brother pointedly hoping to get out of the conversation.

“No, she wants this information as much as I do,” he retorts.

“You and Tkachuk?” Shelly shrieks. Some of the other guests turn to the commotion but turn away when they see it’s only the bride getting excited about something. “I always knew he had the hots for you, but I wasn’t sure if he’d ever do anything about it. Wow, I’m impressed it didn’t take more time for it to happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Matthew never had the hots for you. This situation was purely platonic and aiding each other's social calendars.

“Oh, come on,” Shelly rolls her eyes. “You have to have known that Matthew was crazy in love with you in high school.”

“And that explains his treatment of me?”

“It’s what insecure guys do when they crush on someone who is way out of their league,” your brother explains. “For what it’s worth, you are way out of Matthew’s league, and the only reason that I haven’t confronted him is that I know him. But still, Matthew? Why him?”

“How did it start? Is he a good kisser? Does he make you smile like crazy? Is he the super romantic boyfriend that you’ve always wanted? Is he good in bed?” Shelby begins but is stopped by your brother making a disgusted look. He definitely didn’t want to think about you and Matthew sleeping together. “Sorry, I forgot you were here.”

“It’s alright,” he grumbles, and Shelly throws you a wink knowing that she’d ask you about this later.

“The other questions are still valid, though.”

“It started because I was homesick. I realized that I missed home and needed a familiar face, so I called Matthew. From there, we realized that there was something there between us,” you explain hoping that your brother and Shelly would accept the story.

“More like you finally realized it,” Shelly corrects. You were about to contradict her words, but wouldn’t that break the facade you and Matthew have built? “What about the rest of the stuff?”

You shrug.

“That’s it? There’s nothing else you can say about it?”

“I like keeping my relationship private,” you say softly hoping it came across as confident despite the guilt you felt lying to your brother and best friend.

“Sure, and did this happen before you and I talked about bringing a date to the wedding?” Shelly questions further. She knows that if you liked someone and were crazy about them, then you’d be talking about this person constantly. She isn’t buying the story.

“We started talking before, but we made our relationship official shortly after your call,” you lie, again. You make a mental note to tell Matthew this so that when Shelly did interrogate him, he’d have that information.

“But you insisted you didn’t have anyone to bring as a date,” Shelly points out.

“You also called me if any of my friends would want to bring you,” your brother points out smugly. You glare at him and kick him under the table.

“I wasn’t sure if bringing Matthew would be like cheating because I knew he was invited to the wedding,” you quickly retorted. Would that be enough to have them lay off you?

“Sure, sure,” Shelly begins. “Look, if your relationship is of convenience, you know, for pleasure, you can say that.”

What? “What?” you and your brother speak at the same time. She wasn’t interrogating you because she thought you and Matthew were faking. She thought you and Matthew had a friends-with-benefits relationship! Somehow, that calms your nerves and helps you relax.

“Oh, so it’s a real relationship,” Shelly says with a grin. “I was wrong?”

“Yes, it’s a real relationship,” you laugh.

“I mean, if it were a pleasure-seeking based relationship, then I’d also be okay with that because you do need to make yourself happy,” Shelly winks.

“Okay, I’m done here,” your brother immediately gets up and walks over to his wife. You and Shelly both giggle.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

“That’s good. I have to get back to bride duties. I know that I was shocked when you told me you were dating Tkachuk earlier and didn’t react the way you wanted me to, but I only did it because I don’t want you to get hurt. He treated you like crap when you were in high school, and I don’t want him to go back to that version of himself. You seem happy, though, so ignore me.”

Shelly kisses your forehead and finds her fiance. You knew you weren’t going to get hurt because what you were both doing was merely for show. You both weren’t actually dating, so there were no feelings to be hurt, but one thing stuck out to you. Matthew liked you in high school? You weren’t sure why that unsettled you so much, but it did. Why would he have treated you like crap if he liked you? Would you and Matthew hurt each other? What happens when you both end this ruse? You know you’ll miss the way Matthew could always put a smile on your face and bring out giggle after giggle from you. You’d miss the way his smile or hand in yours would make your heart burst and make you warm inside and out. Were you on the path to getting hurt?

. . .

As Keith and Brady are arguing about the bill, Matthew and Chantal step outside to wait for them, and Taryn is in the washroom.

“So, you and Yn?” Chantal begins.

“Mom,” Matthew groans.

“I find it funny that the story that you told tonight to us is exactly what Yn told me a few weeks ago.”

“It’s what happened, so it makes sense that Yn told you the same thing,” Matthew lies.

“Yeah, but it was the exact same story, Matthew.”

Matthew looks at his mother, and he knows that she’s read through fabrication. “We both needed dates for things, so we thought we’d pretend to date to make it easier on both of us,” Matthew mumbles.

Chantal looks at her son and sees the forlorn expression on his face. “But you like her.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, mom,” Matthew says sadly as if he finally realized the hopelessness of the situation.

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

“Because, mom, it’s like Taryn was saying earlier and why it shocks you so much. I treated Yn like crap when we were growing up, and I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“But you love her.”

“I never hated her; I just didn’t know what to do with my feelings. I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Chantal admits. Her heart breaks as she watches her son run his hands through his hair sadly as he admits to feelings. “I haven’t seen you both around each other, but who knows, maybe Yn does feel the same way.”

“No, I know for a fact she doesn’t. It’s okay, at least I have this,” Matthew says. Keith and Brady walk out of the restaurant at that moment with Taryn close on their heels. Keith slaps Matthew’s back and asks what Matthew was talking about. Matthew shrugs it off with a curt “nothing.” Matthew didn’t want the rest of his family to know about the reality of his dating life. He also knows that you’d rather not let that information come out.

“On Sunday, you and Yn should come over for dinner,” Chantal suggests. “Like tradition.”

“I’ll ask Yn,” Matthew answers.

“It’s not a request, Matthew,” Chantal says and walks with her husband. Well, then you and Matthew are going to dinner at the Tkachuk’s on Sunday.

. . .

The next morning after the rehearsal, you had to force yourself to pull yourself out of Matthew’s embrace. You’ve both woken up in the same entanglement as the morning before, but this time, you liked it. You enjoyed the warmth and comfort his hold produced. You groan as you get out of bed and walk to the washroom in the cold away from Matthew. You had to be up early to get things ready for the makeup artist, hairdresser, and photographer. You briefly washed your face and brushed your teeth before throwing on a pair of leggings and your “I Do Crew” t-shirt that was made for you. You grab your dress, shoes, and jewelry before heading over closer to the bed to grab your phone and purse. You place everything down and kiss Matthew on the forehead. You smiled at how peaceful and cute he looked as he was still sleeping.

If only it were real.

. . .

When Matthew’s alarm went off a few hours later, he moved closer to your pillow hoping to hold you for a little bit longer. When his head hits your cold pillow, Matthew’s chipper mood deflates when he realizes you’re not gone. He knows that you had to leave early for wedding preparations, but it still hurts knowing that you weren’t there to wake up next to him. In the past few days, Matthew has gotten used to waking up next to you. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do when you both return to your normal lives and he can no longer wake up next to you.

. . .

“Well, you look nice, Matthew,” Chantal says as Matthew sits in the row next to his family. Matthew straightens his tie. His leg is bouncing up and down in nervousness. Chantal observes her son from the corner of her eye and smiles at his actions.

“Have you seen Yn yet today?” Chantal leans over and asks. Matthew shakes his head no; he was nervous to see you. Matthew got a glimpse of your bridesmaid’s dress, and he knows you’re going to be just as beautiful, if not more, than the night of the rehearsal.

Matthew and his family continue to chat quietly, and everyone in the crowd abruptly ends their conversations as Shelly’s groom heads to the front of the aisle. In a matter of seconds, the orchestra begins to play the “Wedding March”, and everyone turns their heads to the aisle awaiting the procession. The groomsmen process down the aisle and take their places. Following the groomsmen are the bridesmaids. As each woman processes down the aisle and takes their places, Matthew is confused when he doesn’t see you among them. Matthew assumes, though, that because you’re the maid of honor, you have something special to do.

Matthew’s suspicions are confirmed when you walk down the aisle in your blush, floor-length, off-the-shoulder dress with your right hand holding the hand of the flower girl and your left hand holding a bouquet. As you walk down the aisle, Matthew is entranced by you. He stops breathing and blinking as he watches you. He watches as you lead the flower girl to her place and stand behind her. When everyone’s attention is turned to Shelly and her father walking down the aisle, Matthew’s attention is focused on you. He knew you were beautiful, but you were beautiful. There isn’t any difference between the two words, Matthew knows, but the latter word somehow means more. Matthew keeps telling himself it’s the dress, but he knows it’s not just the dress. It’s the person wearing the dress. It’s the way your face glowed from happiness at the new couple and the makeup you had on. It was the way your hair flowed impeccably in the breeze. It’s the way you looked amazing in that dress that had Matthew frozen. You were the most beautiful person Matthew has ever seen, and he didn’t want to look away.

When you catch Matthew’s eye, he swears he died and came back to life. You smile softly at him, but he doesn’t do anything. He just stands there staring at you as the officiant continues to talk. Chantal notices you trying to stifle a giggle and turns to her son to see if he had anything to do with it. When she sees Matthew just staring at you, she elbows him.

“Smile at her,” Chantal directs. That, it seemed, was what finally took Matthew out of his trance. He blinks and takes a deep breath right before sending you his signature smile. You shake your head playfully when you notice that Chantal had to remind him to smile and pay attention. You turn your attention back to the ceremony happening right in front of you as the officiant directs everyone to sit. You also try to ignore the hole it feels like Matthew (and the rest of the Tkachuks) were burning into the back of your head.

Because you were the maid of honor, you were one of the official witnesses and had to stand behind the bride. Through it all, Matthew was watching you. He was captivated by you, enamored by you. You met his eye a few times and had to force yourself not to laugh as a blush overcame his face and he turned away. Taryn, thinking that the next wedding she’d be attending was between you and Matthew, was watching the interactions between you two. The first time she watched you looked constipated as you tried to hide a giggle, she knew Matthew was the reason. After the second time, Taryn made sure to keep an eye on Matthew, too, so he could watch his reaction. Normally, in relationships, Matthew was confident, cocky, and full of himself. He was always the one to make the person he was dating speechless, shy, and look away bashfully. This time, though, you were the one in control, overtaking Matthew’s usual position. This time, Matthew was the one who was smiling bashfully and looking away whenever you’d meet his eye.

Taryn noticed that you stopped turning your attention to Matthew when the vows began to focus on the bride and groom. That doesn’t mean, though, that Matthew was paying attention to the happy couple. He was still watching you.

“Hey, Matthew,” Taryn leans over her mother and whispers.

That seems to take Matthew out of his trance as he rolls his eyes at his sister's words. “What?”

“Stop staring at your girlfriend. You’re trying to get her to marry you, not run away from you.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Matthew doesn’t say anything except to stare ahead. This time, though, he doesn’t place his eyes on you. No, he places his eyes on the couple hoping to get his family off his case. He didn’t want to face the reality of the situation that Matthew wasn’t trying to get you to marry him despite him knowing you were the one. He hoped to ignore the true reason why Matthew was here as your date and not as a family friend. During the rest of the ceremony, Matthew doesn’t look at you once. He opts to look at the couple, the officiant, or the beauty of the outdoor venue. He hopes that by not looking at you, Matthew can escape the reality that he’s in love with you and you, it seems, are not.

When the ceremony ends and the couple walks down the aisle, you and the rest of the wedding party are getting ready to take photos during the Cocktail Hour. You try to make your way to find Matthew and see him because you missed him, but every time it seemed you had a chance, he was busy or was avoiding you.

Eventually, the Cocktail Hour was over and everyone was heading into the location of the reception. After you’ve made your rounds, you look around to see where Matthew was or your brother. You weren’t sure who you were going to sit with, but you were hoping to sit next to Matthew, though. You weren’t sure why Matthew was in a sour mood, but you knew you caused it. You only hoped he wasn’t too mad at you.

“Hey, you look beautiful,” Brady says as he walks up to you. He is holding a fresh drink in his hand, so you assume he was coming from the bar.

“Thank you,” you murmur, wondering if Matthew was around, too.

“Matthew, don’t you think so, too?” Brady says, and you turn your head to where Brady was directing his question to.

“Hi,” you whisper when your eyes lock with Matthew’s. You see anger in his eyes and are suddenly worried that Matthew is truly upset at you. However, Matthew’s face softens when you send him a soft smile, and the anger leaves his face.

“Are you sitting with us?” Brady asks.

“Of course, she’s sitting with us,” Matthew says and walks over to and wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s my girlfriend.”

You smile and let Matthew lead you to where his family is sitting. Matthew pulls out a chair for you to sit in, and he pushes it in for you. Matthew takes the seat next to you, and you’re suspicious that it was Brady’s when he grumbled about sitting in the chair next to you. Immediately upon sitting, Matthew places his hand on your thigh and scoots his chair closer to yours.

As the night carried on, Matthew never took his hand off your thigh, and he constantly whispered in your ear asking if you were okay. If you needed a refill on a drink, Matthew always went to the bar to get you a refill and insisted you shouldn’t have to get up. He always returned by placing the drink on the table and placing a kiss on your forehead.

When he returned with your third or fourth refill of the night, you smiled at him as he sat down and told him, “You know, I’m starting not to hate you anymore.”

Matthew looks at you sadly at your words. You still had animosity towards him? He thought he’s been working so hard to change your opinion of him, but it seems it's just barely working. You notice the strain and sadness in Matthew’s pout and wonder if you did something wrong. You place your hand on his thigh and look into his eyes. The minute your hand touched his thigh, Matthew was fine. It didn’t matter what you said because he knows he cares about you, and he knows that deep down, you care for him, too, despite your words.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says with a smile. “I’m sitting next to the prettiest person in the world; why wouldn’t I be okay?”

You smile at Matthew’s words and rest your head on his shoulder. What were you going to do when you and Matthew no longer could be like this? You knew you were going to miss it.

. . .

As the reception is nearing the final hours, everyone’s moods have turned more casual and laid back, including you and Matthew. Both of your chairs were right up against each other with you leaning heavily against Matthew with your head resting on his chest. His hand was wrapped around your shoulders and was rubbing small patterns on your shoulder. You and Matthew are talking to Brady and Taryn when a slow song, one of your favorites, begins to play. You perk up slightly, wondering if you should ask Matthew to dance with you.

“Hey, Yn, isn’t this one of your favorite songs?” Brady instigates.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is,” you reply, and Matthew looks down at you softly.

“Do you want to dance, Yn?” Matthew asks. You nod and slowly pull away so he can lead you to the dance floor. You and Matthew position yourselves so that your hands are resting just below his neck with his resting on your mid-back. You both sway to the song, and you’re both entranced with each other’s eyes. As the song continues, Matthew’s hands slowly rise up to the bare skin of your upper back. He begins to stroke soft patterns on your skin, and it sends chills up your spine. You pull yourself closer to Matthew to try to use his warmth to evade the chills. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

As the song comes to an end, Matthew licks his lips and leans his head towards yours. He pulls his head back slightly. Was this appropriate? He didn’t have the chance to further contemplate kissing you because you pulled away and led him back to the table. His one true regret that evening is that he didn’t kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you badly, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and tell you how much he loves you.

He knows he’s dug himself into a hole he will never get out of.

. . .

“What are you doing today?” Matthew asks as you’re getting ready for the day. Based on his tone, you know something’s up, and you have to agree with whatever it is.

“Why?” you ask nervously.

“Would you want to go to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner? Like pastimes?”

You turn to face Matthew and smirk at him. “I feel like I don’t have a choice here.”

“My mom said that I had to bring you, no negotiations, so yeah, you have no choice.”

You laugh. “Okay, I can go to your parents’ for Sunday dinner, but I know my parents and brother won’t be there. They have plans tonight.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?” Matthew asks knowing he wants to spend the day with you.

“I’m going to visit some friends from high school; what are you doing?”

“Just hanging around. Nothing much.”

“Okay then, why don’t I meet you back here, and then we can head over to your parents’ house?”

“Perfect,” Matthew says and turns away from you to go shower. On his face, he’s wearing a wide smile. He only hoped that you were just as excited as he was.

. . .

Unlike when you were growing up, you didn’t stay outside with the boys while Chantal and Keith got dinner together. This time, you and Taryn were in the kitchen helping Chantal cook while Brady and Matthew were out at the grill helping Keith. Now and then, you’d look out the backyard window and notice Matthew. Sometimes, he’d meet your eye and wink at you, and your face would grow warm. Or, sometimes, he wouldn’t be looking at you, but you saw him turn his head away as if he was just looking at you. Sometimes, he didn’t notice you looking at all, and you loved watching him interact with his dad and brother.

“He seems lighter when he’s around you,” Chantal comments after noticing you and Matthew staring at each other for the gazillionth time that afternoon.

“How so?” you ask.

“He’s nice,” Taryn says blatantly.

“Taryn,” Chantal scolds, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m not wrong,” she defends.

Chantal rolls her eyes. “All I’m trying to say is, you guys are good for each other. It’s about time you both realized the dynamic you both have after years of animosity between you two.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll finally be sisters,” Taryn jokes, hinting at the possibility of marriage. The smile on your face fades as you remember that you and Matthew aren’t dating. The smile fades knowing that you and Matthew wouldn’t ever get married, and when this ruse was over, many more people would get hurt than you both anticipated.

“Anyways, let’s go eat, yeah?” Chantal approaches. “Taryn, you put the salad on the plate and tell the boys we’re ready. Yn, you can help me scoop the other sides, okay?”

You were about to take the potato salad out to the table, but Chantal grabs your shoulder lightly and signals you to hold back for a moment.

“Just know, Matthew cares deeply for you,” she advises. “At the end of the day, he’s crazy about you; don’t forget that.”

You don’t have the words to say anything in response, so you just nod. Chantal seems to think you fully understand her words, so she walks out to the backyard. You don’t. What could she be talking about? Did she know that you and Matthew weren’t dating? You thought you both put up a pretty good act.

Opting to try to enjoy the evening, you place your worries to the back of your head and walk out to the patio. Just as you’re placing the potato salad on the table, Brady is placing the grilled corn on the table, too. Taryn’s already taken her usual seat, and because it’s a smaller crowd, Chantal has taken the seat where your brother would normally sit. Following tradition, you sit next to Taryn, and Brady takes the seat next to you. Keith has taken his seat and says that Matthew has gotten to grab a refill of drinks for you and him.

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls to his brother from behind you. You perk your head up and turn to see Matthew glaring at his brother.

“What? No! Go sit somewhere else. I’m already sitting here,” Brady says in retaliation and annoyance. He shakes his head and mutters a comment to you asking how you put up with him. You stifle a giggle knowing that the look in Matthew’s eyes was of determination, and the ordeal wasn’t over yet.

“Brady, I said, move,” Matthew says more forcefully.

“Why can’t you sit somewhere else? You never sit here.”

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls again.

“Why don’t you sit here, Matthew?” Taryn asks, trying to diffuse the situation. It was clear that Matthew wanted to sit next to you.

“No, I want Brady to move.”

“I’m not going to,” Brady is firm in his words. “Seriously, Yn, how do you deal with him sometimes?”

You don’t say anything, but Matthew does and is still incessant on Brady moving. “Brady, move and sit somewhere else. I want to sit next to my girlfriend.”

Brady stands up and stares at his brother. Looking at Matthew’s face, Brady knows that Matthew won’t give up on his endeavor, so Brady sighs and proceeds to get up. Brady goes and sits in his old normal seat, and Matthew sits next to you. He places a glass of water on the table for himself (he already had one beer but was driving, so he had to be safe) and lemonade for you. “Thank you, Brady,” Matthew says softly once he’s situated.

Brady grumbles in reply and mutters about how annoying Matthew was. You place your hand on Matthew’s thigh and lean over to whisper in his ear, “You didn’t have to force Brady to move, you know. It’s fine if we don’t sit next to each other.”

“It’s not fine,” Matthew whispers into your ear. “I wanted to sit next to my girlfriend, so I was going to sit next to my girlfriend.”

You open your mouth to say how it was all a ruse but decide against it.

“Shall we eat?” After observing her two sons spar over a seat and Matthew melt as he whispers into your ear, Chantal finally says.

Conversation, as everyone eats, varies from the wedding from the previous night to Taryn going to college to the upcoming season to your job. You loved how normal it was and how it was like before. It felt like before you and Matthew turned ten started hating each other. It was like when you were both young and the idea of marrying each other was still a thing. It was the way life was supposed to be had Matthew not started hating you at the age of ten. As you were both eating, Matthew always had a hand on you. Whether it was on your thigh or around your shoulder, Matthew was always touching you, and his family noticed completely.

“You know, when Matthew told us you were both dating, I was truly shocked. I was surprised you would ever go for him, Yn, considering you are way out of his league,” Brady says out of nowhere and tries to get back at his brother.

“Brady,” Keith warns.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Taryn points out, not realizing the true intentions of Brady's words. “As much as I love you, Matthew, Yn is completely out of your league.”

You notice Matthew stiffening up next to you, and you place your hand on his thigh to try to calm him down.

“I’m just surprised you even gave him a chance considering Matthew hated you for like half your life.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Taryn looks up at her mother and shrugs in confusion.

“I never hated, Yn,” Matthew defends. “I’m not sure where you guys are getting that from.”

“How about the fact that — ow!” Brady is stopped as Chantal kicks him under the table. An awkward silence fills the table as everyone finishes up their meals. What did Matthew mean when he said he never hated you? His actions definitely showed it. Did he still hate you? All these questions swirled in your head as Taryn volunteers you and her for clearing the table. You move in autopilot as you clear the table still trying to figure out the meaning of Matthew’s words.

“I’m sorry for my comments out there,” Taryn apologizes. “I didn’t mean to say anything hurtful.”

“Don’t worry,” you tell her with a smile. “I wasn’t offended, but I think Matthew could use an apology more than me.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s got thick skin, and it’s not like I said anything he didn’t know.”

“Mmm,” you say, not sure how to respond.

“I’ve never seen Matthew so protective over someone before. Is possessive the right word? I don’t know, but I don’t think he’s ever been like that. If he would challenge Brady to something and wouldn’t immediately get his way, then he’d just drop the subject or physically fight Brady. He didn’t do either of those things. There’s something about you, Yn, that brings out a different side to Matthew,” Taryn points out as she’s rinsing the dishes, and you place them in the dishwasher.

“Interesting,” you say, again, not sure how to respond

“It’s a good thing. You’re both good for each other.”

. . .

You and Matthew say goodbye to Chantal, Keith, Brady, and Taryn two hours later and head back to the hotel you were staying at. Chantal couldn’t understand why you guys didn’t just stay with them before you flew back to Calgary the next morning. You weren’t sure how to explain that you’re not dating her son, and you needed some time to unwind and not have to be Matthew’s pretend girlfriend for extended periods of time.

As you’re driving to the hotel, you and Matthew sit in silence. Now and then, Matthew would shift in his seat in discomfort. You could tell he was still upset from Brady’s and Taryn’s comments. You reach your hand across the center console and place it on his thigh. You hear Matthew’s breath halt at the touch, and you’re confused at the sound.

“Matthew, are you okay?” you ask softly. “Don’t take Brady’s and Taryn’s words too seriously.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Matthew, don’t,” you interrupt as he stops at a red light. He turns to you, and his heart melts at how the lights on the street illuminate your face. He nods at your words, and suddenly, he wasn’t sad or frustrated anymore. The drive continues in silence, but your hand doesn’t leave his thigh. You have one lingering thought, though. “Matthew?”

“Mmm?” he asks.

“What did you mean when you said earlier that you didn’t hate me?”

“I didn’t realize there was anything to say. I don’t hate you,” Matthew says blatantly.

“Yeah, but you did hate me.”

Matthew laughs sourly. “Why do you think that even though I’ve told you that I didn’t hate you?”

“You were such a pest to me after we turned ten.”

“That didn’t mean I hated you, Yn.”

“Then why were you such a pest?” you ask.

“Because I had a giant crush on you when we were ten.”

“You had a what?” you asked, shocked, as Matthew drives into a parking space.

“A crush when we were ten,” Matthew answers and walks out of the car. He walks over to your side and opens the door for you. You step out of the car still reeling for his confession. “Don’t worry, Yn, I don’t have a crush on you anymore, so don’t worry.”

“Good,” you reply quietly. You aren’t sure why you are so upset at Matthew’s words, but you are. Did you have a crush on Matthew, now?

. . .

You’re standing in front of the mirror placing the final touches on your makeup and hair as you get ready to fly back to Calgary. You vaguely notice Matthew sitting in the chair behind you. You figured he was looking at his phone or watching the TV that was on. You lift your eyes to glance at the boy in question. Just as your eyes meet his face, Matthew looks up, and his eyes land right on yours. You stop moving, too entranced in his gaze. Matthew sends you a soft smile, and you mirror his smile. He sends you a wink, and your eyes instantly dart away from him. You continue getting ready, and you try to ignore the heat that rushed to your face and the rapid beating of your heart.

. . .

“I brought pizza and beer, is that good?” you say as you walk into Matthew’s kitchen. It was his first night back in Calgary since you said goodbye at the airport after the wedding, and he wanted to spend the night with you.

“That’s perfect,” he says and takes everything out of your hands.

You take your shoes off and walk further into this apartment. “Oh, looks like you cleaned.”

Matthew looks around the apartment and scratches the back of his neck. He turns to you, and you see a slight blush lining his cheeks. “Yeah, well, no one likes to live in a pigsty.”

You raise your eyebrow at his words. “What version of Matthew is this? The high school version of Matthew had the most disgusting bedroom ever.”

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew rolls his eyes and throws a napkin at you. You swat at it and begin to giggle. Matthew takes a piece of pizza and places it on a plate for you and opens a bottle of beer for you. You take it out of his hands with a soft “thank you” and walk over to his kitchen table. He places his plate and beer on the table and places his hands on your hips; your breath catches in your throat at his touch, and Matthew swears his heart started to beat a hundred times faster at the sound. He guides you towards the couch. “We’re sitting on the couch to eat.”

“But, Matthew,” you say after regaining your voice. You watch him grab his beer and plate from the table where he placed it and sits next to you.

“Nope, we’re not at Yn’s house. We’re at Matthew’s house, so we eat on the couch when we’re having a movie night.”

“Matthew,” you begin again.

He shakes his head as he takes a sip. “Don’t. I can’t eat this once training camp and the season starts, so let’s just enjoy it, okay?”

You nod and take a bite out of your pizza. Why did your breath hitch out of your throat when Matthew touched you? He’s touched you before, but why was it different this time?

. . .

“How about these?” Matthew asks as he holds a bag of chips in front of your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t like that flavor, and I already bought a bag of chips.”

“Maybe you should buy them for me, this lovely person who you forced to go grocery shopping with you.”

“That is not what happened, Matthew, and you know that,” your point out.

Matthew walks over to you and entraps you from where you’re standing at your shopping cart. He places his hands on the bar on your sides so you can’t move. He leans his head towards your ear and whispers, “Then tell me what happened.”

“You know what happened,” you murmur, trying to hide the fact that Matthew’s actions and words were sending chills down your spine.

“But I want you to tell me,” he whispers again into your ear.

“You showed up at my apartment just as I was about to leave,” you swallow before continuing, “and you insisted on coming with me, and here we are.”

“I don’t recall that being how it happened,” Matthew says against your neck, and the vibrations warm your entire body. You figure if Matthew was going to mess with you in the middle of the snack aisle at the grocery store, you might as well do the same. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face closer to yours. Your lips are micrometers from his, and you can tell that Matthew is nervous.

“That’s exactly how I remember it happening,” you say against his lips and with each word you said, your lips touching Matthew’s. Out of instinct and preparation for a kiss, Matthew places his hands on your waist, and you smirk, knowing you have him right where you want him. You run your hands up through his hair, and Matthew’s hold on you becomes limp. You lean closer, if possible, to him, and Matthew thinks you’re going to kiss him. Just when you would’ve leaned forward and kiss Matthew, you pull back and escape from where Matthew has you entrapped. You’re standing a few feet away from him, and you notice Matthew still in his trance. “You coming?”

That seems to take him out of his trance, and he nods and pushes the shopping cart to follow you. Matthew isn’t sure what happened, but he knows that whatever did just happen sent Matthew to heaven.

. . .

“What are you wearing?” Taryn asks you when you sit down next to her.

“Oh, this old thing?” you say, pretending to be oblivious.

“Matthew’s going to hate it considering you’re his girlfriend, who the Flames are playing, and what you’re not wearing.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“You are such a pest like Matthew. No wonder you guys are so good to each other,” Taryn rolls her eyes.

“You’re lucky we won or you’d have hell brought down upon you,” Matthew says when you’re standing outside the locker room after the game.

“I didn’t know you knew the devil personally,” you joke.

“Why did you have to wear Brady’s jersey, Yn? The day that I play the Sens, you are wearing the wrong brother’s jersey.”

You shrug but have a knowing smirk on your face. “I felt like it.”

Matthew groans when he sees Brady walking over to you and him. “Nice jersey,” Brady smirks.

“Thank you. Too bad you guys lost.”

“Seriously?” Matthew’s mouth’s agape.

“Oh shut up, you know I cheered for you when you scored,” you say and link arms with Brady as you head towards Chantal and Keith. “It worked. I pissed him off,” you whisper to Brady.

“You guys are so weird,” Brady chuckles. Matthew just stands behind you and Brady and is trying to figure out what just happened and how he’s going to get back at you.

. . .

When you showed up to the Senators-Flames game wearing Brady’s jersey, Matthew knew he had to think of a way to get back at you. After a week-long road trip and coming home at 2 am, Matthew wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. He also wanted nothing more in the world to see you and to get back at you. When he got in his car to drive home, Matthew realized he had the perfect plan to get back at you. He knows that something you value deeply is your sleep, so because you messed with something important to Matthew, he was going to mess with something important to you.

Matthew drives to your apartment from the airport and parks in the parking spot next to your car. He isn’t sure why he thought you didn’t have a car and why you don’t drive it to work, but here your car is. He walks into the lobby of your building and waves to the nightguard working the night shift. He takes the elevator up to your floor and walks up to your door. He takes a deep breath and begins to aggressively ring your doorbell. He hopes that you wake up and none of your neighbors do.

The ringing continues for twenty seconds before you realize it’s not your alarm. You sit up for a few moments when you realize that it’s someone at the door. When the ringing doesn’t stop, you get worried that something’s wrong. You rush over to the door and open it. “Is everything okay?” you blurt out before noticing who’s the one ringing your doorbell.

“No, I have a very important message for you,” Matthew says with a smirk grazing his face.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” you’re worried now. You’re still barely awake, and if you were, you probably would have noticed the smirk on Matthew’s face.

“It’s an important message. Ready for it?”

“Yeah, yeah, just tell me!”

“Hi.”

“Hi? That’s it? Matthew, you rang my door like a lunatic and made me worry that something was seriously wrong. What’s wrong with you?”

“You wore Brady’s jersey to my hockey game.”

“So you decide to pull this shit?” you’re angry now, and Matthew realizes he made a mistake.

“I’m sorry. I also wanted to see you,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pull him into your apartment. “Then call me instead of halfway giving me a heart attack.”

Matthew nods and follows you into your apartment. He puts his bag down by the door and takes his shoes off.

“I’m going back to sleep, but you can change and shower in my washroom and join me when you’re ready. I’m not staying awake; I’m too tired.”

Matthew is shocked that you’re doing this. Matthew woke you at 2 in the morning just because and you’re opening your home for him despite it. Matthew will never take your friendship for granted ever again.

. . .

“Matthew, are we still fake dating?” you ask out of nowhere. It’s been months since the wedding, and you weren’t sure if you and Matthew still had that title. Recently, you both had been hanging out together, but it didn’t seem like “dating”. It was “friend” hangouts, and you were both disappointed and happy with it.

“Why do you ask?” Matthew asks. He doesn’t want to fake date you anymore; he wants to real date you, but he isn’t sure if you want that, too.

“Because,” you hesitate.

“Because, why?”

“I went out with some friends the other night and this guy was hitting on me, and I turned him down because I didn’t know if we were still under the ruse of dating.”

“Oh,” Matthew says dejectedly. “Don’t worry, if you see him, or anyone else, who’s hitting on you, then you can say yes. We, as of this moment, are just friends and no longer fake dating.”

You nod. “What do we tell people? Like, Shelly or your family?”

Matthew shrugs. “We realized we were better off friends. We went from the extreme of not being able to be around each other to the extreme of always being around each other and realized it doesn’t work.”

“Okay,” you say. You weren’t sure why you were so upset with Matthew’s response.

After the conversation, you head home about an hour later with your head still reeling from Matthew’s words. Just friends, he said, but you didn’t want that, did you? You wanted Matthew in every way that you could. You wanted him next to you when you woke up and when you fell asleep. You wanted good morning kisses, good night kisses, and just kisses in between that. You wanted Matthew because you liked him. You wanted Matthew because, in the months of fake dating, you fell for him. You fell for Matthew Tkachuk, the one boy you never thought you’d fall for, and the one boy who doesn’t want you like that.

. . .

You went out with Matthew and the team to celebrate another win. This time, you wore Matthew’s jersey, and you swore Matthew’s smile grew wider when he saw you in it. The celebration at the bar thus far has been fun. You weren’t sure if the team knows you and Matthew “broke up”, but it doesn’t matter because Matthew was still being touchy with you, and you hoped that you were hiding your feelings for Matthew well.

“I’m going to go get some refills for us, okay? Same drink for you?” Matthew whispers into your ear. You visibly shiver at his action, and you know Matthew noticed. You nod, not trusting your words. To try to ignore how you’re feeling, you immerse yourself in conversation with the group. It works, you think, but when you look up and see the back of Matthew’s head, your heart begins to beat rapidly. You needed to figure out how to get your emotions in check if you’re going to continue to be hanging out as friends with Matthew.

“So, you and Matthew have been going strong, huh?” Annica says when she notices you staring at Matthew. You snap your attention back to the woman. Matthew must not have told the team that you and he “broke up”. You guess that would be a weird conversation to have. You doubted Matthew said something along the lines of, “Yes, we broke up, but I’m going to keep bringing Yn around. Why? Well, we were never really dating, and now we are just friends. Yeah, it’s weird, but just go with it.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” you reply, hoping that Annica didn’t read too much into your words.

“I can tell he’s crazy about you and that he —,” Annica is interrupted by Elias bringing her another glass of wine and conversation changes. You look back at Matthew to try to figure out the meaning of Annica’s words. Just as your eyes land on Matthew’s head, he turns around, as if sensing your gaze, and meets your eyes. He smiles at you, and you instantly feel the tears falling from your eyes. You try to blink them away, but when Matthew begins to rush over to you, you know that he noticed. You excuse yourself from the group and rush out of the bar.

“Yn, yn,” Matthew calls out to you. He catches up to you with his long strides and places his hand gently on your shoulder. You turn to face him and feverishly wipe the tears away. “Yn, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“I didn’t know we cry over nothing now, but thanks for letting me know,” Matthew jokes, but it doesn’t do anything to make you feel better. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t be your friend anymore; it just hurts too much to be your friend when I want more,” you blurt out and walk away. Matthew is too stunned at your words to follow after you. You want more? Since when? Matthew doesn’t come to his senses to chase after you until you’re getting into your car to drive home. What does he do now?

. . .

“Yn, yn, yn, I know you’re in there,” Matthew yells as he aggressively knocks on your apartment door the next day. “Yn, please. I just want to talk to you.

You angrily stalk to the door and open it. “What, Matthew? Maybe you should have taken a hint when I didn’t open the door the first eighteen times you knocked on it.”

“Yeah, well, we need to talk, so it doesn’t matter if I was knocking on your door for hours, I’m going to talk to you.”

“Matthew, there’s nothing to say,” you tell him through gritted teeth hoping not to let it show how much you wanted to cry at that moment.

“Like hell, there’s nothing to talk about,” Matthew aggressively replies as he runs his hands through his hair. “You can’t just say that and leave, you know. You’ve had me going crazy, Yn!”

“Well, it’s not like you feel the same way or want the same thing,” you mumble, looking at the ground.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted this since I was ten!” Matthew replies incredulously.

“But you told me you didn’t like me anymore!”

“That’s because I thought you didn't like me like that.”

“Well, I do like you like that, Matthew.”

He takes a step closer to you and looks into your eyes. “That entire time we were fake dating? I was imagining it was real. I was doing everything in my power to make it real so that I could have that experience of being with you because I thought I’d never had a chance with you. Like my parents said, you are completely out of my league, so I was extremely honored that you ever wanted to fake date me.”

“I don’t want to fake date you.”

“I don’t want to fake date you, either,” Matthew chuckles.

“Oh, good,” you reply and look down at your feet. “I want to be your real girlfriend.”

Matthew laughs at your words. “That’s what not wanting to fake date means.”

“Oh, right,” you giggle at yourself.

“So, if I put my hands on your waist and kiss you, is that okay?”

“That’s more than okay, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile and place your hands on his face to bring him closer to you. Matthew smiles at your words and leans his head towards yours. You both softly placed your lips on each other before deepening the kiss. It wasn’t the first kiss you both shared, but it was the first time you kissed each other with your feelings on display. You both deepen the kiss, and Matthew pulls you into him. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you giggle at the small moan that leaves him. His moan and your giggle cause you both to pull back. Matthew gives you a pointed look.

“Great, our first kiss ends like that.”

You giggle again. “It’s not our first kiss, Matthew.”

“Still,” he pouts.

“Don’t worry,” you tease. “There will be many, many kisses in our future.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Matthew says with a grin and pulls you in for another kiss.

The get-together wasn’t perfect or what anyone expected, but it was your story, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagines #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey writing #hockey fanficition #hockey imagine #calgary flames x reader #calgary flames imagine #calgary flames fic #claudia writes

[princessozera]

The Obey Me cast doing the egg drop project

A/N: Unlike the very cute baby project head canons, that i can’t find in this exact minute but I will tag once I do, mine is purely stupid but it’s my favorite science “experiment” so let’s gooo...

MC not overly present, referred to as ‘you’ (2nd ppov)

Word count: 1.2k

Egg drop is the name of the game

No magic

No adhesives

and limited supplies.

And, from MC’s personal experience, you are NOT allowed to have a sibling hold the egg and push them off the building.

How well do the demons handle a classic elementary school experiment?

Lucifer

Damn you MC, stop giving Diavolo ideas, he already has too much shit on his plate

Thinks it is a waste of time and has half a mind to just throw the egg off the balcony by itself.

But like hell he’d willing lose any sort of competition.

Swaddled his egg in cotton and old shirts before  packing that tightly into an old shoebox. Dropped the egg straight off the balcony with no pizzaz

Egg: survived

Mammon

Thought it would be super easy, if human kids could do it of course he could too!

forgot about it until the morning of

a quick internet search and a stop at the convenience store; he put his egg in a jar of peanut butter, constantly checking on it throughout the day to make sure Beel hadn’t eaten the peanut butter.

Checks the egg one final time before confidently pitching it off of the balcony, watching in horror as the lid falls off because he didn’t screw the lid on tightly this final time

It was hard to see what he was yelling about from that height but you got the message pretty clearly when the egg lands before the bottle, covering your entire front in raw egg.

Egg died; Mammon disqualified

Leviathan

Leviathan was surprisingly ecstatic for this competition, it was time to show off his superior egg knowledge and impress MC and show up his brothers

has a thorough plan laid out, referencing  takes good care of the egg while he builds his drop. 

The day arrives and Levi is a bit nervous to throw the box, mostly because he’s grown so attached to this little chicken egg. 

In his hesitation to put the egg in, it starts to shake a little bit. Levi thinks it’s his own hand, but then there is an unmistakable tapping sound. Diavolo and Levi are there to witness the first ever chick born in the Devildom.

:0

“...Levi. You did use store bought eggs, correct?”

“...”

“They’d need to be in an incubator to grow at all Levi. Did you put the egg in an incubator?”

“. . .”

Egg is SUPER alive, too alive to continue the experiment.

 Levi may be disqualified but he’s a dad now!

Satan

Took this surprisingly seriously, more so because he wasn’t allowed to use magic.

Like, he literally made a full technical drawing with all of the components labeled and how they’d contribute to the overall design.

Made his with exactly 14 items, and was the lightest one from all of his brothers which he was very smug about. 1 shoe box, a Styrofoam cup, the egg, cotton, 6 skewers, and 4 rubber bands.

He was SO confident that his would work that he threw it down upside down

Egg survived ofc

Asmodeus

You were interested in seeing Asmo’s ideas but he kept them hidden until the day off, sneaking off to buy supplies in the dead of night. 

You had no idea what he could be planning but at least he seemed enthusiastic about this competition, even if it wasn’t usually his speed.

Asmo threw a little black box off the balcony the way a bride would toss back a bouquet and it landed with an unceremonious THUNK.

The egg inside? Unbroken, but covered from top to bottom in stickers and nail polish.

Debate #1

“You said no adhesives, and I didn’t use any!”

“Asmo, whats on the back of stickers? Directly touching the surface of the egg?”

“... That doesn’t even add much!”

“Well, nail polish increases the shell’s durabliity, enough coats and you could probably toss the egg by itself and it would be okay. That disqualifies you”

“You never said anything about changing the strength of the egg shell!”

“That’s what the adhesive rule was about!”

Barbatos settled it; since you didn’t explicitly mention changing the egg’s properties, Asmo was not disqualified.

Egg; survived

Beel

doesn’t get the point of this, but goes along with it anyways, asking you to hold on to his egg until the day he has to throw it.

goes with a classic main vessel + parachute design; borrowing 2 of Belphie’s pillows, tying them together with wire, and recyling old snack bags into a parachute

He even manages to go the entire school day without eating the egg! 

:D

Then everyone watched as the egg slips from between the pillows and the parachute all but catches fire, never fully opening on it’s descent

D:

Egg died; Beel, tried, but disqualified

Belphie

jumped

Yep. Belphegor JUMPED off of Diavolo’s balcony holding the egg.

You couldn’t help but scream even if it all turned out fine; Beelzebub caught Belphie before he hit the ground. 

Debate #2

“You said I couldn’t throw my BROTHERS off the ledge, you didn’t say anything about myself.”

“THE SELF-PRESERVATION INSTINCT WAS IMPLIED!”

“You’re just mad because I scared you”

“NO SHIT EDGE LORD”

“Demons can’t die from heights. Our bodies aren’t that fragile.”

“If you already knew that, it wasn’t an experiment then, was it!?”

“I was experimenting with my brother’s reflexes, loyalty and whether they cared enough about me to try to catch me, even knowing I’d be fine.”

“........”

The egg did survive, but Belphegor was ultimately disqualified because the experiment had to be physics/engineering/invention based and not psychological horror.

Diavolo

was excited but put in way more work than needed

Built a glider for his egg, gave it a cushioned seat and everything

It was beautiful to look at, but now you all had to wait a full 10 minutes for it to fall

Egg survived; Diavolo, Bougie

Barbatos

Is your fellow judge

offered you a change of clothes and an umbrella after both Mammon and Beel’s failed eggs

Simeon

tried being creative and made a dodecahedron out of straws, with the egg nestled in the center, suspended by panty hose

Good in concept, but the height proved to produce too much momentum and too high of a stopping force; the egg shot straight down, within the dodecahedron, and slammed into the ground

Egg died; Simeon disqualified

Luke

decided to put his cooking skills to use, testing out massive amounts of jello for shock absorption

he did ultimately place the egg in between layers of jello before encasing that within more jello, creating a behemoth 6 foot diameter jello ball

 The entire jello ball shatters on impact, one particularly large chunk knocking Mammon on his ass, but the ball was thick enough to take all of the impact force, the egg survived!

Egg, survived: Luke was given a bonus award for edibility and “wow I really did NOT think that was going to work”

Solomon

Solomon had never done this so he was excited to try it. He saw Luke’s idea and took some inspiration for it!

He threw a cake off the balcony.

Debate #3

“It has an egg IN it. Multiple in fact!”

“A cake is NOT an experiment”

“With Solomon’s cooking... it kind of is....”

“Then the eggs were in fact broken before they left the balcony! Disqualified!”

Ultimately, it was declared that Solomon’s experiment DID count, and the egg technically DID survive because the cake remained whole and even bounced after hitting the cobblestones.

#yes this is the post I was referencing in yesterdays onsense tidbit #Obey me #obey me shall we date #om swd #obey me Lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me simeon #obey me luke #obey me barbatos #om lucifer #om mammon #om leviathan #om satan #om asmo #om beel #om belphie #om diavolo #om barbatos #om simeon #om luke #om solomon #obey me solomon #I still love egg drops

[bukojuiice]

ʚ  Midoriya, Bakugo, and Todoroki cramming school works with their S/O  ɞ *‧.₊˚*੭*ˊᵕˋ੭.*

izuku, katsuki, and shoto x gn! reader  ♡ 

｡⋆ʚ♡⃛ɞ These are some extremely self-indulgent hcs LMAO i’m currently consumed by a lot of school works and extracurricular activities, so i decided to take the time and write some of these up! this the first batch of hcs i’ve ever made so i hope you bear with some errors! i hope you enjoy!

hopefully i get to write more about the other bnha bois/girls soon so please also stay tuned for that!

if you like to see more from me, i have an ongoing bakugo x fem reader! smau called cuddle buddy! read it here!  ( ु•⌄• )  

✧ Izuku is very smart and hardworking so you’ve barely seen him cram any school work or tasks since the two of you started going out.

✧ Soft bby boi knows how to balance his workload from school whilst still being able to spend time with you.

✧ Now here were the two of you, partners for a huge science project that would serve as your midterms for the subject.

✧  Both of you were tasked to take care of two chicken eggs and treat them as your children. Draw faces on them, make them wear clothes, give them names and describe their personalities... literally treating them like actual babies.

✧ You were whining about it at first because it felt like an elementary project instead of something first year high school students (and those in the hero program for that matter) would do.

✧ Izuku remained positive however and reassured you that it was going to be a lot of fun.

✧ You were still salty and unimpressed by the project, but you couldn’t help but melt because of how cute Izuku was and how excited he was for this task. He really wanted to spend a lot of time with you and he was so so happy that you two were partnered for this project.

✧ Because it was midterms week, you were swarmed with tons and tons of stuff to do, so the two of you decided to finish everything else first then deal with the science project at the end of the week because it was the “easiest”. Boy.. were the both of you so so wrong.

✧ Izuku goes up to your room in the dorm so that the both of you can work on the project quietly, yet as he enters, he sees you panicking and running around the room, your camera hanging around your neck, holding two half-cracked eggs with weirdly sewn clothes and faces that looked like they were scribbled from sharpies.

✧ “Izu-kun... can you help me take pictures of our kids for the baby photobook? 

✧ He was about to faint on the spot from fantasizing about his future with you. 

✧ “Of course! hand me All Might Jr. first so you can take a picture of his cute little sister!” 

✧  Yes, your first born eggo is named after All Might. It was Izuku’s decision and you wanted to support him.

✧ You spent all day taking pictures, printing them, designing them and pasting them on the photo album. It was finally nighttime and the both of you are terribly exhausted and mentally drained.

✧ You and Izuku had creative minds so you were able to create the perfect photo album.

✧ Several hours have passed and Izuku still can’t stop thinking of the future he was going to have with you. What a cutie.

✧  After submitting and passing the photobook to the drop box Ilda left in the living room, Izuku goes up again to your room and is surprised by the sight of you sleeping soundly on your bed.

✧ He comes up to you, kisses your forehead and whispers these soft words to you:

✧ “I can’t wait to tell our future kids how I met you.” 

✧ Bakugo Katsuki has never crammed a school work or project in his entire life.

✧ You on the other hand, procrastinated a lot, yet could still pass tasks on time. Although, Katsuki still reprimands you for it. Calling you “dumb butt” instead of the usual name callings he uses whenever talking to your classmates which is “dumb ass” 

✧ He is your boyfriend so it’s not that much of a surprise, it’s just that you’re a bit shocked that he would be really really soft on you. It’s such a sweet gesture though.

✧ After binging a entire series on Netflix the other day, and because he couldn’t resist your pleas of begging him to watch this show with you, it completely slipped from the both of your minds that you had a dance project to work on for your Physical Education class.

✧  You immediately panicked, and Bakugo began to show his usual hot-headed side of him and scolded you for it. Despite him forgetting about it too.

✧ The two of you were going to film yourselves dancing to the Cha Cha dance style and you had a day to create the raw video without edits.

✧  You suggested that the two of you practice by uploading your videos to Tiktok and ask for advice from the professionals who posted their videos there too

✧ “Katsuki-kun do you think we should upload our videos to Tiktok?”

✧  “Absolutely fucking not.”  

✧ After watching a few beginner dance practice videos on Youtube, Katsuki immediately got the hang of it.

✧ Your man had the moves. He really was good at everything.

✧ You couldn’t help but stare at him as he continues to sway and follow the steps without missing a beat.

✧ Bakugo smirks at you, “Like what you see?”

✧ “Get your mind out of the gutter.” You threw a pillow at him as his tease came out of nowhere. 

✧  Since you were quite a slow-learner, it took a few hours before you got the hang of the first routine.

✧ In those few hours, you probably have stepped on Bakugo’s toes a few hundred times and a few hundred fucks were cursed out of his mouth every time it happened.

✧  He was still patient with you though in his own little way. Constantly scolding you every time you made a mistake, but never made you feel guilty for it. 

✧ You were able to finish recording the raw video by evening. A few hours to spare before the deadline. Either way,  the both of you were exhausted when the adrenaline finally died down. 

✧ “I can’t wait to dance with you again like this. Maybe Waltz or Ballroom next time?”

✧ “You’re a shitty dancer so don’t expect it to happen anytime soon.”

✧ “Then again, I’m dancing with you. So it doesn’t matter if you’re bad. The important thing is, it’s going to be special since I’m with you.”

✧ And at that moment, you could feel your heart explode from all these soft emotions.

✧ Shoto was naturally smart. He could finish a lot of tasks in a few hours without getting distracted. That was his strategy ever since he was in Elementary. Getting things done right away and getting flawless remarks and grades on them.

✧ But ever since the two of you got together, he insisted that the two of you would do your school works together. So, every night, whenever there was homework, you would immediately yeet over to Shoto’s room to answer the tasks with him.

✧ It’s really cute. Not only do the two of you get to bond together but, you were helping each other too. It was the ideal relationship.

✧ Shoto is very particular with a lot of fancy things, so he even has this humidifier in his room with your favorite scent so that the both of you can calmly continue your work.  He even has a comforter sprawled upon the floor so that you could sit comfortably. How sweet of him ;w; 

✧ This time around though, the two of you were partnered up for  to answer a elaborate math problem that you were going to present the next day. 

✧ You exceled in your subjects with Math being your weakest point, sometimes even getting unfavorable grades on the subject. Shoto was the exact opposite though. Which wasn’t surprising because he needed to be good for his quirk. How far his fire can go, the trajectory of his ice and all that jazz. 

✧  He wasn’t disappointed that he was partnered with you for this though, despite it being your weakness. In fact he couldn’t be happier. As long as he was spending time with you. 

✧ After reading through the problem and finding the formula, you were already stressed out. Todoroki took notice of this immediately and decided that the two of you should take a break first. He brings you to the convenience store near the dorm. Your hand holding his as he tells you that you could buy any snack you want.

✧ Using his father’s credit card of course.

✧ After coming back from the store, the two of you decided to head straight back to the math problem. It was very very complicated,  especially since the two of you had to divide the work because it was required for the project for the two of you to evenly contribute to it. It was a math problem your braincells couldn’t take anymore.

✧ “Shoto-kun, I can’t take this anymoreee.” You whined, resting your head on his shoulder.

✧ “Come on (Y/N), just a little bit more. We’re almost finished.”

✧  Shoto was finished with his part of the solution, while you were still struggling. It took the whole night to do so but you were able to answer it eventually.

✧  The next day, it was finally time for the presentation. Shoto was able to present his solution perfectly, while you had some slip-ups and mistakes here and there. The both of you didn’t get a good grade because of that... but to him, it didn’t matter.

✧ “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. It’s my fault we got a bad grade.”

✧ “It’s alright (Y/N). It doesn’t matter. As long as I get to experience something different with you and spend time with you every single day, I’m happy and contented. 

✧ You were so blessed to have someone like Todoroki Shoto in your life. What did you to deserve such a precious and kind boyfriend?

-End.  ♡‧₊˚

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #izuki midoriya #todoroki shoto #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x y/n #deku #deku x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x y/n #juliannewrites #bnha headcanons #todoroki x reader #izuku x reader

[tobiosmilktea]

casual catastrophes — sakusa kiyoomi

2.6k words | genre/s: uni!au, fluff | warning/s: kinda nsfw (i tried lol) | pairing: sakusa x f!reader

↪︎ in which his jealous actions spoke louder than his words

a/n: request for @study-milk, sorry for the long wait! i still hope you enjoy it overall

also i cant write smut for shit so i turned it into something poetic instead LMAO like honestly i have no idea how people write this so casually i couldn’t stop laughing the entire time

you were an untamed disarray in the morning. you looked at the world through a lens of thunderous fatigue as you finally managed to get some sleep in the past couple of days of nonstop assignments and projects. you loathed the hour at which you were forced to wake, from the tweeting of morning songbirds to the chattering of voice of the morning news droning through the placid dewy air of the new day.

your slender fingers slithered through your knotted hair, pulling the linen sheets of of you as you groaned honey through your teeth. you stretched up high until you could practically touch the clouds through the tips of your fingers until it lulled you awake rather than knee-jerk movements of the daily routine of getting out of bed. it was finally the weekend which meant no classes for a couple of days and you were eternally grateful. despite the short break between weeks being only two days, it was surely enough for you to have fun and relax, not to mention that your best friend had just arrived last night from travelling abroad.

you and your best friend, kaito, had been close ever since you had punched him square on the nose in elementary school after he made fun of you. you supposed that the impact had hurt him enough to think he would like to be best friends with you forever.

kaito had been on your side for as long as you could remember. you would always attend the same middle and high schools, helping you through your darkest days, your highest of highs, and even the lowest of lows. hell, kaito was even there for you when you were head over heels for sakusa. if anything, it was your best friend you had to thank for you to even be with sakusa kiyoomi in the first place. you two got together your second year of high school and have been going strong even now that you both were in your last year in university.

it was honestly quite the shame that you and kaito ended up following separate paths after graduating high school. you decided to stay in tokyo with sakusa while kaito travelling abroad and living his best life.

as if your body was on autopilot, you found yourself already making your way out of your shared bedroom of your shared apartment with sakusa, sighing to yourself as you gently shut the door behind you. following the sound of the television’s soft chattering from the small living room, you glanced upon your boyfriend making breakfast and cooking his morning away tot he smell of chamomile tea and eggs.

“morning,” he muttered, quickly flickering you a glance before focusing his attention back on the eggs. he was in the process of making yours and he was well aware of how picky you were with how your eggs were cooked.

“good morning,” you greeted with that smile he always liked seeing. you settled yourself atop one of the bar stools as you waited for him to finish, “we got visitors today.”

sakusa’s brows arch as he plated your breakfast and making his way towards you. “visitors? who? what time are they coming so i can clean properly?”

you shook your head with a light chuckle left your lips, “you don’t have to do that, you know as i think you know who’s coming.” you say, thanking the boy before you as you stabbed your fork into your eggs. “besides, we’re probably going out to hangout.”

a hum of acknowledgement emitted from sakusa as you could’ve swore he made a strange look when you mentioned visitors. you didn’t even mention kaito’s name, but you knew that he knew who you were talking about.

shaking the thought out of your head, you and your boyfriend ate breakfast in the serene silence. your eyes hadn’t even meet each other as your gazes were both locked upon the television screen.

sakusa found himself waiting, sitting on one of the bar stools at some random pub in downtown tokyo that you had dragged him to in order to meet kaito. he let out an inaudible sigh as he pulled his white face mask higher up on the bridge of his nose as he watched your honey drenched eyes scan the crowds every five minutes.

sakusa had a terrible habit of staring at you in the midst of the silence between you two. he often thought of his gazes to be of a nuisance, but he was well aware that you would’ve called him out on it if you truly found it annoying. trust me, he learned this the hard way when you two first started dating. if anything, he took it to his own advantage to memorize every feature upon your face. the volleyball player’s face seemed to light up the same way yours did as your eyes widened at the sight before you—kaito and a friend of who decided to tag along.

“kaito!” you called out to her best friend, pulling sakusa from his trance and towards the arriving pair.

“feels like i haven’t seen you in eons, (y/n).” kaito laughs as he pulls you into a tight hug. sakusa’s eyes flickered down to how dangerously close your friend’s hands were wrapped around you.

a curt smile melted upon your lips, “well, this is the longest we’ve been apart.”

“true, but i’m honestly surprised you haven’t gone insane without me keeping you in check all the time.” jests kaito, a tone lacing his words with a raised brow upon his face.

you scoff, “as if! i though your expected between from me.” you mused before gesturing to your boyfriend that your best friend had failed to even greet, “besides, sakusa has taken over that job.”

it was then kaito had finally nodded towards the masked individual as you were too occupied introducing yourself to kaito’s plus one. eventually the four of you found yourselves sitting on the bar stools in a row, with you being in the middle of kaito and sakusa.

with only two hours into the night, numerous topics had already been talked about—mostly between you an kaito as they were of reminiscent memoirs that refused to wither into oblivion or stories of his travels.

“so when are you leaving japan?” you asked, casually sipping on your cocktail.

a hum of thought emitted from kaito as his eyes focused on his glass, “in two weeks, i think.”

“where to?”

“probably australia and new zealand,” kaito answers between sips of his drinks, “so far, i’ve been to most of the continents besides australia, so i’ll most likely spend a month in each country.”

a light chuckle escaped from your lips, “must be nice.” you commented, suddenly feeling a large, warm hair grip at your thigh. eyes widening slightly, you look back towards sakusa whose face mask was resting below his chin in order to take a sip of his drink. he wasn’t even looking at you, but his grip on your thigh tightened. you squeezed his hand back.

your best friend downed the rest of his drink, his breath finally catching up to him as he felt a pair of eyes staring holds into his skull. he decides to shake it off, “well, i’m just really fortunate enough to have a job that lets me travel. maybe once you graduate you can come with me and travel for a couple months.”

it was then sakusa wove his fingers though yours and gripped your hand tightly. as if he was suddenly afraid to let go, he rudely cleared his throat as he downed a shot.

“besides,” kaito continues his ramblings without noticing any of sakusa’s tense actions towards you. “i was supposed to go on that australia trip right now, but i decided to stop by japan cause i wanted to see you before i leave again. couldn’t last another couple of months without seeing your ugly face.”

a playful scoff emits from you, rolling your eyes. “dickhead.”

“oh, come on, i know you miss me.” he teases, his hand raising to possible touch your face, but before he could do so, sakusa swiftly pulls your face away to quickly peck you on the lips.

“sakusa?” you muttered upon his soft lips as you pull away.

he cleared his throat, “sorry that i interrupted, but it’s getting late and i just remembered that atsumu asked for our help for his move.”

that was a lie. sakusa quickly made it up as he couldn’t bear for his anger and jealousy to brew within him for any longer as he would physically combust if he were. 

“really?” you questioned as confusion rang over your face.

sakusa nods, “yeah, he texted us earlier this morning, remember?”

you tilted you head slightly, trying to recall the memory but failing to do so. but it wasn’t like you questioned it any further as it was probably lost in the busy saturday endeavors of cleaning up around the house that it possibly flew over your head. besides, it was sakusa who usually remembered this types of things so you trusted his judgement.

“oh,” you sigh, looking over to kaito and giving him a pitiful look. “sorry we had to cut tonight short, kaito. maybe next time we can hang out for longer.”

“don’t worry about, (y/n). there’s always next time” your best friend waves his hand as if to say it wasn’t a big deal. he watched as you hopped off the bar stool and gathered your things, “oh here, let me walk you guys out.”

kaito, along with his tag along left their seats at the bar as well and followed you and sakusa out. your best friend noticed the way your boyfriend was tensed with his arm draped affectionately over your shoulders. kaito’s brows slightly furrow as he looked at the sight before him. jealous, he thought as he feigned a laugh. being the germaphobe he is, he was well aware that this was super out of character for sakusa and it was all because of kaito. perhaps there was a smug look on your best friends face that immediately dissipated the moment you all stepped out into the cold night air.

“i swear it got colder,” you mumbled as a cheeky idea popped inside kaito’s head. perhaps he would do you a favor as he was aware of how stressed you had been in the past week, maybe if he pushed a couple more of sakusa’s buttons that you would be in for a treat.

“here, let me give you my coat.” kaito was in the midst of taking his jacket off his shoulders when sakusa had already place his own coat over your shoulders in one swift movement.

the tall volleyball player flickered a look over his shoulder, giving a harsh glance towards your best friend. “i got it, thanks. we’ll be leaving now.”

“bye, kaito!” was the last thing you said to your best friend before you and sakusa walked towards his car.

you hadn’t expected the night to end like this—stark naked under the pale moonlight that bled through the windows of your apartment, laying beneath sakusa who was in the process of taking his shirt off.

all you knew was that this was entirely sparked off his stupid jealousy towards kaito for no reason whatsoever. the thing is, the only reason why you knew was of all the backhanded comments sakusa had made on the car ride home after he had locked the car doors and confessed that helping atsumu was a lie. that having you alone and all his was the only reason why he wanted to leave the pub so badly, to have you in his arms and in his embrace, to feel your skin against his. whatever jealousy he experienced earlier in the night, he wanted it to disappear once he showed you that you were his.

you tried to be indifferent about it. that his uncalled for actions wouldn’t let him succeed in having him take you, but your senses seemed to swell and pulse against your skin at each waking moment that passed. you did end up melting into his arms as he carried you to the bedroom.

he knew you so well that he was aware that the moment his lips touched your neck, all of your defiance would deteriorate. he knew that just a few light brushes and strategically placed touches against your skin would do all of his bidding without much thought.

sakusa sighed into your lips and that burst of serendipitous spark of lust and desperation radiated throughout your bodies. as if all of his rising envious antics melted away, withering along with everything else in the world—the sounds, the questionable best friends, the alcohol coursing through your veins—it dissolved into nothing but you and him.

all of sakusa attention was on you and you only. nothing else in the world would break him out of his trance of love and infatuation for you as he savored the familiar taste of your lips.

you clutched at him with the aching of fervor and reincarnation. you yearned for his touch, clinging to his shoulders, pulling at his hair, and wrapping your legs around his hips to drag him harder into you.

sakusa kissed his way down your neck, to your collarbones and eventually down to your breasts as the deep growl that emitted from his lips lit your skin on fire. he breathed vehemence and desire as he adjusted himself in front of your entrance, watching as there was some sort of unwavering and steadfast hunger and avidity that melted over his face. 

you let out a moan as he stretched you out, the sound bouncing off the walls as he didn’t even hesitate and let you adjust. you held onto his shoulders tightly at each of his movements, all strong and powerful at each buck of his hips. there was an ignited salacity in you and sakusa’s tangled greed of limbs and skin had pressed together. 

your nails dug into his skin, hoping it would leave marks for his friends to see due to your boyfriend’s guttural sounds of pleasure. even the lewd whimpers leaving your lips caused sakusa to make his movements harsher and deeper, for his lovebites to darken upon your innocently clean neck, and to his hands leaving red marks from his grip on your thighs.

you both hoped your marks for each other would last for days. as if they were the reminders of the night a casual catastrophe of jealousy eminent in your love was something you both could memorize the reminders for days. that instead of you remembering the fun memories of your antics with kaito, you instead remembered the way sakusa looked beneath the blue hues of the midnight stars. of how he looked absolutely breathtaking by the moon’s silhouette.

to remember the taste of lust and ardor, of the way his lips tasted, of the way his body felt pressed up against yours. it was truly something to remember as the only reason why you and sakusa were nearing each other’s edges was all because of kaito himself. the man who set you two up in the first place and the man who purposely made sakusa jealous just because you were stressed, kaito was aware that your boyfriend was the only one who could make you feel like this. to unravel and have you in a trembling mess under his own body, you had dragged him with the tide of pleasure with the sudden downpour of mumbled ‘i love you’ was muffled against each other’s bodies.

your phone then buzzed on your bedside table once you both rode out your highs:

from: kaito :))

hope you had fun tonight, homie, i did the best i can ;)

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu oneshots #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa smut #sakusa scenarios #sakusa oneshot #sakusa imagines

[ninjastormhawkkat]

Becky Boxleitner Au Ideas

This is just some random stuff I want to say about my au before I post my first au rewrite story.

Outline continuation:

Becky does not reveal to her dad her origin story until after he learns her identity. 

“The Ballad of Steve McClean” and “A Better Mousetrap” are extremely humiliating moments for Becky/Wordgirl. (You know how Wordgirl reacted to Dr. Two Brains outfit in the canon episode after his rap. Yeaaaahhh. R.I.P Becky.)

Scoops does interview Becky’s dad about his latest crimes or rays, but he does not publish them out of respect and consideration for his friendship with Becky. Scoops uses his interviews with Dr. Two Brains as practice for his future career as a reporter. 

Violet and Scoops know to never bring cheese to Becky’s house (when her dad is out of jail) or risk loosing it forever. Poor Violet learned the hard way after bringing a sculpture made of Fromage Blanc to Becky as a gift. Violet had no idea that Fromage Blanc was a type of cheese. She thought it was a fancy name for a type of art material. Dr. Two Brains has apologized to Violet. 

Becky and her dad used to live in a apartment in the city before the accident. It took some time for Becky and the Botsfords to clean out her stuff. (It took time for reasonable and emotional reasons.) Two Brains had snuck back there after his first time in jail to get some of his own belongings. (Becky had mixed feelings on whether she should collect her dad’s stuff or not, but decided to leave the stuff (non-essential things) and take only personal and needed items with her.)

Becky has a box filled with old photos of her and her dad before the accident located under her bed. She also has photos of her, her dad, Bob, and the Henchmen in new, decorated scrapbooks placed in the drawers of her nightstand.  

Dr. Two Brains is familiar with Tobey a bit differently than canon. He has heard about Tobey from Becky but he is still not closely acquainted with the kid just like when Two Brains first meets him in canon. (Since Tobey and Becky are not close friends, Two Brains never bothered remembering about him until he read about Tobey’s robots and work in that magazine. Also Tobey’s introductory episode occurs after Two Brains’ origin so Steven had no idea who the kid was before his accident.) “Mousezilla” goes similar as canon, but Two Brains and Tobey did not have great start. Two Brains heard from Becky how Tobey attacked the Botsford house where she was staying which made him naturally upset because his daughter was almost hurt by the kid. Tobey was surprisingly somewhat sympathetic towards Becky at school during the first few days after what happened to her dad. He did offer condolences as he could relate with losing a dad. Tobey kinda projects his own issues with his dad towards Two Brains because he sees how Becky acts when her dad is in jail. Tobey is salty that Two Brains puts Becky through this even though Two Brains has no choice in the matter. Tobey in this au still acts like his canon self, but is a bit sympathetic with Becky’s situation with her dad. He won’t tease her about it. 

After the accident, there were various reactions by students towards Becky. Some were sorry for her, some talked to her and sent their condolences (like Tobey). There were those that were wary of her because her dad was now a villain and they didn’t know if Becky would join her dad because she cares about him. No one bullied her, (mostly because they were afraid of Violet’s protective glare, DO NOT UPSET VIOLET😰.) Quickly they realized that Becky was still Becky and would not be different just because her dad is now. They still treat her the same after incidents such as the mind control bunny buttons and turning the city into cheese. Some who don’t know Becky well did chuckle after seeing Dr. Two Brains rap (someone recorded it for their version of YouTube.) and the events of “A Better Mouse Trap”.

Other citizens that don’t know Becky well don’t bother her. They do NOT want to risk Dr. Two Brains parental wrath. The Villains know better than to threaten Becky. A few break this either on accident or this is their first time as villains and meeting Becky. (They quickly learn why NOT to mess with Becky Boxleitner.)

T.J Botsford treats Becky the same in this au. He did not like Becky at first because her dad became Wordgirl’s villain. He later got over it and just treated her like an annoying sibiling. (as I said, its the same relationship as canon.) The Botsfords and Two Brains are on good, friendly terms despite Two Brains actions. They understand that Two Brains acts as a villain because of the mouse brain, but is ultimately a good dad to Becky. They treat, Becky, Bob, and Two Brains (and henchmen) as family and will often include them in holiday events if they are able or want to. 

In this au, Dr. Two Brains does not threaten harm to Becky’s friends and the Botsfords like in canon. (I don’t think the music ray in “Two Brains Quartet” was life-threatening, just made people sing badly.) He just does something else which keeps his villain status. 

Not always, but Dr. Two Brains will reveal his schemes to Becky, whether purposefully or accidentally, before he commits them. Becky has to come up with excuses as Wordgirl when Two Brains questions how she figures out his schemes so quickly. 

Becky still goes to Woodview Elementary. Dr. Two Brains, as all villain relatives, have to go through a screening process and are not allowed to use their powers or bring weapons on campus. Two Brains, with the help of Sally Botsford, work out legal stuff with the school where Becky still goes by Boxleitner, but her dad is listed as Dr. Two Brains, as well as be ready to go over school stuff with the Botsfords when Two Brains is in jail. Dr. Two Brains has always been civil and polite with the other kids parents. He only made friends with Tubing and Doohickey back when he was Steven. He never really made an effort to be friends with Scoops’s and Violet’s parents before the accident. He was just friendly and polite as he is now. Dr. Two Brains does consider the Botsfords as friends overtime. (He originally was just grateful and acted in debt to the Botsfords for taking Becky in every time he went to jail.) He is somewhat moved by their kindness towards him and Becky despite his villain status. 

Both Two Brains and Granny May gush about grandkids (Granny May)/kid (Two Brains) when they get together at villain meetings. (They both have multiple photos in their wallets.) Since those two are the toughest, the other villains don’t complain. Becky does interact with the villains more often in her regular life since her dad does business with them. Becky has been to a few Villain meetings before the reveal. Two Brains wanted to give his daughter some villain experience. Nothing notable happened as these meetings were mostly informal and villains could invite someone (a potential villain) if they wanted too. 

Dr. Two Brains does not like Pretty Princess or the Squishy Fun Bots. He didn’t like them when he was Steven and he doesn’t like them now. He just watches them with his daughter just for quality time. (Two Brains will take any chance to spend time with his daughter to make up for his time in jail.) Steven originally let Becky watch these shows because they were the only appropriate shows on that would also distract Becky with enjoyment. Steven did play make believe with Becky (when she was younger) based on the shows because it made her happy. In this au, Becky did not want to watch the Squishy Fun Bots because of canon reasons and because it brought back too many memories.

Before the reveal, Becky went along with her dad teaching her how to be a villain to make him happy and to provide cover for her identity. Two Brains does not egg Becky into villainy. He knows she was raised to be good when he was Steven and he will fully support any path she takes. Two Brains just hopes that Becky will go into villainy so he will have a good successor and just for more Father and Daughter time. He does take her training pace by pace and it comes second to her schoolwork and health. 

No matter the ups and downs, Becky and Two Brains are still family and they care for each other as a Father and Daughter would.   

#becky boxleitner au #wordgirl au #outline #dr. two brains #becky #more random stuff #half fluff #half emotional

[supercantaloupe]

SO happy you rbed that book rec ask meme again, i was afraid i'd missed it: 1, 3, 8, 13, 22, 27, 28, 37, 43, 55, 61, 131? 💞🌺

aw jack 💖🥺 admittedly some of these questions are about genres i don't really read but i'll do my best!

1. a book that is close to your heart - listen i know Ready Player One by Ernest Cline is cringe or whatever but middle school me ate that shit up. i'm still very fond of it and a lot of what it has to say -- namely its optimism re: human connection/friendship through the internet and unashamed & nostalgic fan culture

3. a stand-alone that you wish was part of a series - none come to mind; when a book is well written, imo, it has an ending satisfying enough to stand alone. more often i find myself wanting to read more similar standalone books by the same author than i do wanting to read a direct continuation of a single book into a series; see all of Andy Weir's space novels (The Martian, Artemis, and Project Hail Mary) as an example.

8. a book you finished in one sitting - Project Hail Mary! okay, not technically one sitting, but pretty much. i finished it within 24 hours and loved it

13. your favorite romance novel - not much of a romance reader tbh! i suppose i still have a fondness for John Green YA from middle school. The Fault in Our Stars, if i must pick something overtly romantic, but i do prefer Paper Towns, if you'll allow me to stretch what "romantic" means in terms of a book's plot

22. your favourite thriller - i don't really know exactly what constitutes a thriller in a book? i don't really read these. does Moby Dick count? i liked moby dick

27. a book with a purple cover - God Bless You Mr. Rosewater again! love me some vonnegut. (my copy is purple, i think other editions have different covers tho)

28. a book you wish you could read as a beginner again - "beginner" i'll assume here means "for the first time". i kind of wish i could go back to elementary school and relive reading Darren Shan's Cirque du Freak series again. i tore through all twelve books. i think if i tried to revisit them now it would lack a lot of what i now look for in a book, but i remember the series so fondly as a kid

37. your favourite heist book - another genre i don't read much of. it's been ages since i read this series, but i remember enjoying Gail Carriger's Finishing School series. if i recall correctly at least one of the four books (likely more) had heists in them. also i haven't read it yet since i literally just got it but there's a book called Barn 8 by Deb Olin Unferth that's about two guys who try to steal all the chickens from an egg farm? i'll keep you posted if it's any good lmao

43. a book that you have read more than three times - The Martian my beloved 💖💖💖

55. a book with a satisfying ending - i really like how The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood ends (which is part of why i haven't bothered reading its recent sequel yet, lol). i have a feeling my definition of a "satisfying ending" is not the same as everyone else's, though, lmao

61. your favourite horror novel - yet another genre i don't read much of. i do remember reading this one book called H2O by Virginia Bergin in middle school. it's about an apocalypse in which all the water on earth (save for sealed ccontainers) becomes infected with a deadly parasite and it fucked me up and stayed with me since.

131. recommend any book you like! - The Anthropocene Reviewed! John Green's latest book, a collection of essays on various things as viewed through a human lens, each rated on a 5-star scale. shockingly heartfelt. highly recommend!

[ask meme]

#ask meme #sasha answers #gendermybeloved #ty!!!!!!! so many to answer #also its never too late to send me an ask for one of these!!! i love them and also u

[itsuki-minamy]

“K - THE FIRST STORY”

CHAPTER 4: BLACK OR WHITE (Complete)

* K - The First Story (List of Chapters) * Projects & Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun Raws: Ridia

There is a system that has never been used in a formula. It would have been better if he hadn't used it, but now is the time to move it.

"All eyes and ears."

Awashima agreed with Munakata's instructions.

"Yes. If it can't be handled, we need eyes and ears. We have to handle it properly."

Munakata smiled at her, she is his right arm, who had a straight face and praised her as an evil executive.

"You are a wonderful person, Awashima-kun."

Munakata looks at the puzzle at hand.

The complete picture of the puzzle is visible. No matter what kind of puzzle it was, Munakata never wondered which piece to put where. What should be to where it should be. By doing that, messy things are put together in the right way. So Munakata enjoys the puzzle.

But now, the full picture of the incident Munakata is facing is not seen. Also, there is only one piece left in Munakata's hand for Suoh.

He picked up one of the Sansui painting puzzle pieces scattered on the office desk, and Munakata looked at it through the lens of his glasses.

++++++++++

Kusanagi received several report calls and made some instructional calls inside the HOMRA bar counter.

"Oh, Bando. Are you aware? Yes, then join Dewa and head to the location on the map that I just sent."

"That is the seller's hidden store."

"Oh. It's the one with the mobster who was in charge of the arms trade. It seems like he died about ten days before Totsuka was killed."

Kusanagi's words made Bando groan over the phone.

"So that damn guy killed him and Totsuka-san?"

"No, that's not the case. The vendor was used by the criminal and murdered... there is a good chance. And recently, there have been a number of other mysterious misconduct."

"Ah, I'm sure you suddenly heard those rumors. Strange urban legends have become popular, like the fact that there are criminal groups that hold people and sell them, and where they meet gods."

Bando suddenly makes a hasty voice.

"Kusanagi-san, do you think the criminal who killed Totsuka-san is involved in the disappearances?"

"The story is a possibility. At least, there is no doubt that the arms dealer who disappeared this time did come into contact with the criminal in some way. Anyway, check the dealer's hidden warehouse and look for clues."

"Understood! I'm heading there now!"

"Okay, be careful."

As soon as the call hangs up, the Kusanagi PDA announces a new call as if it were waiting for it. When he answered, it was Chitose, who is currently in charge of providing information and gathering information online.

According to his report, the video of the criminal on the network has already been removed and appeared to be treated as a naughty video. It seems that people's interests are turning in another direction after rumors that the murder video was fabricated and posted were stopped.

It would be the instruction for "Scepter 4". Kusanagi is impressed that the work is quite fast.

However, at the time, the video was viewed by many people in various parts of Tokyo, focusing on Shizume. Some of the videos themselves have been uploaded to the "Jungle" site. There should be a reaction in the future, as it can be a prize.

Kusanagi hung up when he said in a casual tone that there was no problem. He stared at his hand a bit, thinking that the PDA would start ringing, but it seemed that the PDA in his hand had finally decided to rest, and he remained silent.

Phew, he takes a little breath.

The situation is not good. Although the criminal appeared once, he disappeared again, and also...

"It's finally becoming a hassle to get to that fox."

Miwa Ichigen, the predecessor "Colorless King", said that he only had two clan members in his life.

One of them was born nearly ten years ago, and Kuro Yatogami was the only remaining vassal.

Since Miwa Ichigen basically lived a life as a retreat in the mountains, Yatogami Kuro rarely appeared in the village, but it is said that his power as a clan member and the dexterity of his arm and swordplay, which he has shown several times, that is perfectly maintained.

It would be difficult for Kusanagi to cross evenly when he suddenly appeared and saw how he was treating Yata like a child.

However, he heard that he would not use any other power other than for Miwa. That is why it bears the name "black dog" with the meaning of loyal black dog.

He wonders if Kuro will move with the will of Miwa, who died, or something like that. After dying, serve the next "Colorless King"? Either way, it must be a hindrance for them.

"Uh, I don't have much time."

Anna, who was sitting at the table in the tent, turned to Kusanagi in response to the words that had come out of his mouth.

Anna spread the map on the table, rolled a marble on it, and continued searching for the criminal with her sensitive skill. Kusanagi laughs at Anna inadvertently, acknowledging that he has cut off his focus and probably worried Anna.

At that moment, the door of the bar opened with a loud noise.

"Gah! Yata-san!"

"Sorry! You said something stupid!"

Kamamoto and Yata rushed into the bar as they broke into a fuss. Yata, in the form of bright red rage, hurls Kamamoto's plump giant.

A large body flew into the air towards Kusanagi, hitting the counter.

It was unfortunate because the quality of Yata's small body, Kamamoto's heavy weight, and his stone-hard head were all combined.

Kusanagi's beloved bar counter is chipped by a head shove similar to a Kamamoto missile. Kusanagi screamed.

Yata attacks Kamamoto, leaving behind the broken counter. Kusanagi moaned low, "Guys..." while shaking.

He grabs the head of the slowly moving person who hurt his beloved counter with his right hand and the other with his left hand, and squeezes them mercilessly.

"Sorry it was not my intention!"

"Kusanagi-san! It will seriously break! My head will break!"

"Huh? Guys, what is this counter? It's expensive because a British pub gave it to us. It's a historic gem drenched in the scent of beer and cigarettes, and the hustle and bustle of drunkenness."

With both of them screaming and hanging from their hands, they scream and preach the weight of their sins.

"What is the cause of this fight, guys?"

Looking into his eyes, Yata complained as he hovered.

"It's because of Mikoto-san!"

"What is Mikoto-san doing?"

"This guy said that Mikoto-san gave up on the blues! Kusanagi-san, you should also punish him!"

"Oh, no! No! I wonder why our king was captured without any resistance!"

"Hey! Isn't that a turning point?"

"It's totally different!"

That's it.

The appearance of the two people making noise is like a fight of elementary school students, but it is not clear how they feel.

Kamamoto's doubts are natural, and although they are not mentioned, many of the "Homura" members are probably thinking. Yata himself, who is angry with him, must have the same anxiety and doubts.

Suoh must have an idea, and since he told himself that he shouldn't hesitate, he was so angry at Kamamoto that he raised his doubts about Suoh.

Kusanagi laughed a bit guiltily, saying they were too honest, and then deliberately laughed out loud.

He lets go of the two surprised heads, hugs them and whispers in the ear.

"Do you want to know?"

"Eh?"

"Why was Mikoto-san caught on purpose?"

Yata was confused and said "Yes."

Alright, Kusanagi released them from his arms and made them "repent" on the counter that they had hurt, so that they could first reflect on them.

Kusanagi was pleased with the appearance of the two people bowing his head towards the counter in silence, in the atmosphere of a completely scolded elementary school student, and decided to take a seat.

"Well, that guy is kept as that natural disaster all the time. In some cases, the 'Blue King' must be clear about it. What if that happens? Will it make it easier for us to move? He got caught to free us."

He can see Yata's face bright and clear. Seeing the expression, which seemed overwhelmed by anger, anxiety and dissatisfaction, repainted with joy and pride, the guilt ends in Kusanagi again.

Yata stretched out his chest, smiled boyishly, and shook Kamamoto's shoulders.

"Hey, you said that! I'm going to find that rotten outer path and the fox again! I'll live up to Mikoto-san's expectations!"

Yata, who is completely fine, urges Kamamoto to leave the bar.

Kusanagi encouraged him slightly, saying, "I charge you, Yata-chan."

When Yata and Kamamoto noisily exit, the bar fills with suffocating quiet.

"Liar."

Anna said that like a slap. Kusanagi smiles bitterly at her painful words who silently heard the exchange between Kusanagi and Yata.

"Well I'm not saying… there are some aspects like that."

The words he just said to Yata and others are not lies. However, for that reason alone, Suoh would not have chosen a way to chain Munakata.

Kusanagi glances at Anna. Anna looked at the map in front of her with a doll face.

++++++++++

Inside the lunch box, alongside the white rice, the colorful and well-balanced garnishes are well packaged. The boy thinks it's like being full of "happiness".

The boy loves it because it looks like the treasure chest with an unbalanced brown lunch that is filled with "special" items like meat and fried foods that are always blessed with recommended side dishes. However, he was impressed by the desperate lunch that Kuro prepared as a harmonious world.

From the lunch box, the boy takes a plump, beautiful yellow egg with chopsticks and puts it in his mouth. The sweetness spread through his mouth. He asked Kuro to do it yesterday, the rolled egg was delicious too, but the sweet flavored egg grill is good too.

While trying with a smile, he heard a clear voice next to him.

"Shiro has his own lunch with side dishes!"

Kukuri opened her eyes and looked towards the shrine that surrounded the lunch box with Kuro and Neko in the coffee shop. For whatever reason, he have two lunches on his hands.

He decided to advance through school with his own face, saying he was a "transfer student."

This school is located on an island, isolated from the outside, and basically he cannot enter the site without a pass. However, probably because they were relieved by safety, the people on the school island were enthusiastic about the safety aspect. Even the seemingly suspicious Kuro and Neko are accepted as "I'm a school person because I'm here with a natural face."

By the way, he managed to calm down Neko, who doesn't like clothes, and put her in the Ashinaka school girls uniform (when the boy praised Neko in uniform like "cute!) However, Kuro is still in his uniform. Also, even though he had a sword on his waist, the people around him naturally accepted Kuro's existence, probably because the boy was with him.

Kukuri looked at the contents of the boy's lunch box with a surprised look, and the boy put his hand on his cheek.

"This time it is my beloved wife's lunch."

"If you just say stupid things, I'll stick my tongue out at you."

Kuro draws his sword threatening to cut off the boy's tongue.

As for Neko, he has already eaten Kuro's lunch, and she looks at Kukuri's lunch and makes a voice that waits, "Are you hungry?" Kukuri opened the lunch box and asked, "Do you want to eat?" She opened the lunch box, but for some reason there was no main food, such as fried or roasted salmon, and various kinds of vegetable side dishes such as slow-cooked dishes, salads, and hot vegetables were packed in the lunch box. She wonders if she is on a diet.

Despite the interaction between Kukuri and Neko, the boy looks towards a PDA.

"Oh, what's up? It's different from the school's designated PDA."

Kukuri said, paying attention to the boy's PDA.

The boy's PDA has disappeared, therefore he borrows Kuro's. By the way, a handmade plush doll hangs from Kuro's PDA. When he told him that he thought it was a hobby that did not suit his face, it seems that it is a doll that he made himself, imitating the appearance of Miwa Ichigen, and from there he began to sigh the story of how wonderful Ichigen was. So sorry to ask. Frankly speaking, Kuro's emotion when he talks about "Ichigen" is very disgusting.

The boy squeezed Kuro's PDA and made another comment.

"It's from my wife."

"Do you really want to separate yourself from your tongue?"

Kuro draws his sword again threatening to cut off his tongue. He's not sure if he's unexpectedly good or if he's really mad, because he can't even pull a joke, but his reaction when he hit him is a bit funny.

After a little tantrum, Kuro regains his mind and turns to the boy looking at the PDA.

"Did you find out something?"

"No, it is an unclear image..."

What the boy sees on Kuro's PDA is that video of a person, who looks exactly like the boy, killing a person.

This was transferred from his classmate Mishina. He said he found this video on a website. With the curiosity and drive of a healthy high school boy, Mishina is good at watching erotic videos and images, avoiding the security restrictions placed on school-designated PDAs. Some of his classmates also have part of the videos that Mishina found. Yesterday, Mishina intercepted the boy in an uncrowded corridor and told him a secret story: "I found a bad video yesterday."

Although the boy does not have a young and perky sex drive like Mishina, he looks at Mishina's PDA with the feeling of "Well, if he wants to show it, I can't wait to see it." But, it was not an erotic video.

It is the video of a murder that was shown on a huge monitor in Shizume.

However, Mishina believed that this video was false. It seems to be treated like a naughty video even on the net. However, the criminal's face looked exactly like the boy, so he became interesting and came to show him.

Mishina laughed mockingly, saying, "If you did something wrong, should you be selfish?"

In fact, the boy cannot tell if it is a fake video. But if the person was actually killed and this was false, it would probably mean that the real criminal had redesigned the footage to replace himself with the boy. However, this video was taken by the murderer himself, and from what the video looks like, it appears that it was taken with a retro camera rather than a PDA. The video itself is also owned by "Homura", whose partner is the murdered person. Could the criminal have tampered with the video? If that is not possible, is it the crime of a person with the appearance of the boy? Is that possible?

The doubts have no end, but what the boy must do is not pursue the truth, but prove his innocence.

The boy never does. The boy who lives in the dormitory has rarely left Gakuenjima except to run errands these days.

The boy looks at the picture. It says "12.07 23:45". It's been a week. Of course, the boy does not remember leaving Gakuenjima at that time.

"Are you seeing it multiple times?"

Kukuri looks mysteriously at the boy's hands.

"Hmm, this is a mysterious video delivered by Mishina."

"Eh, Mishina-kun?"

Kukuri overreacted to Mishina's name. The cheeks are slightly tinted red. The boy suddenly remembered the incident that would save himself at Kukuri's appearance.

++++++++++

Fushimi snorted as he watched the scenes projected on the many monitors in the information room.

Each image in each location is displayed one after another on the monitor. Not only the city's surveillance cameras were collected and analyzed, but also all kinds of data such as personal camera images of PDAs and the content of private communications.

Knowledge of the system. As long as the system is up and running, there will be no privacy for the people of this country.

It was a system that prioritized investigations into people's human rights, which could be triggered by the special "Real Level" information disclosure request issued only in emergencies where an undetermined number of lives are in danger. Since the approval of the activation also requires the permission of the Prime Minister, the order of the "Golden King" Kokujoji Daikaku has also been obtained.

He doesn’t want to activate it to find a child.

Fushimi was alone in his heart and ironically distorted his mouth while looking at the private lives of strangers.

"It is quite a masterpiece."

"Help me if you have free time."

Awashima takes Fushimi's words as dislike without raising her eyebrows.

"I am not free."

Fushimi looks back at his desk and slides his finger over the keyboard.

On Fushimi's desk monitor, there was a video of the murder posted by "Homura." A bullet was fired into the roof of the Hirasaka building, in the Western District, at 11:45 p.m. on December 7.

Tatara Totsuka was not good for Fushimi. When he was in "Homura", even if he showed that he didn't like that Fushimi didn't get used to it, he didn't care and felt like he would stop him and see through the line that he really didn't want to step on. He saw it with his eyes. It was not good for those eyes.

He was a man of the opposite nature to Fushimi, and he always laughed with a face that everything he saw was funny.

"Totsuka-san, you are dead."

A whisper came from Fushimi's mouth.

Fushimi stared at the image of the man whose face was always smiling, falling on the concrete without force.

Suddenly something happened. Akiyama, who was doing the compilation work, called out to Awashima in a whispering voice, "Lieutenant Awashima!" The voice turned the eyes of everyone in the briefing room towards Akiyama.

There was a child on the monitor that Akiyama showed. The facial recognition matches the criminal boy that Fushimi just confirmed. Fushimi's expression also tightened slightly.

"Do you know where he is going?"

"Yes, please wait a moment."

Akiyama immediately responds to Awashima's question and runs his finger across the keyboard. Review the points on the web in chronological order. He was at the foot of a bridge where he is captured by Shizume's surveillance camera, an ordinary PDA camera trying to capture the confusion caused by "Homura's" people, and finally the boy.

A connecting bridge that spans from Tokyo Bay and leads to an artificial island. The boy goes over the bridge and enters the island. That was the last appearance of the boy found by "Yuishiki" (Wisdom).

Awashima looks at the map of the place where the boy was last seen.

"The Ashinaka school island?"

It is a gigantic school that is very independent and does not allow outsiders to enter easily, partly because the whole island is one site.

He hears Awashima mutter under her breath, saying it was troublesome.

++++++++++

Anna finally did.

Yata was running. Anger and fighting spirit burn the flames of the body. From that day on, he couldn't find a place to hit and was swirling in his stomach, turning Yata into a fiery bullet with the target he should be heading for now.

A motorcycle gets next to him and they run side by side, they seem to fly in the landscape around them. There was a huge body that he knew on the motorcycle.

"Yata-san! What's wrong?"

"Oh, Kamamoto! Very good, you are coming too!"

"Where you go?! What happened?!"

Yata looked down the road and told him to sharpen his eyes and growl.

"We're going to the school island."

"Gakuenjima? The school island in Tokyo Bay?"

"Just a moment ago, Anna's skill finally found out where it was!"

Kamamoto took a deep breath.

Anna is a member of the "Homura" clan, but has more power as a Strain than the power of fire. She has always been searching for the criminal's whereabouts with her sensitive ability.

It finally showed results.

Yata remembers the bar just before. Anna spread the map on the table and stared at the many red marbles rolling on it. Its responsiveness detects the criminal's signal, and the marbles move and gather towards a point on the map. Beneath the bright red marble is an artificial island in Tokyo Bay.

“Here.”, Anna's transparent voice said like a decree. The criminal is there.

Yata holds his hand tightly in his fist. That night, it was a hand holding a bloody body. This hand knows the cold body that fell on the rooftop in the middle of the night and the warmth of the blood that was spilled.

Yata gritted his back teeth tightly and said, "Kamamoto, take me." He put his hand on Kamamoto's shoulder and jumped into the back seat without slowing the skateboard propelled by his skill. At the same time, he kicked the skateboard and lift it to catch it in the air.

"Speed ​​it up! I'm going to Gakuenjima to kill that damn guy!"

"Hey!"

Kamamoto twists the throttle grip to accelerate the motorcycle. Grasping Kamamoto's thick back, Yata puts his strength into his arm holding the skateboard.

"Wait, you fucking bastard!", he whispers into his mouth.

++++++++++

In the locker room, which was simply installed by pulling a curtain in the classroom, the boy dressed in a khaki kimono and looked at the borrowed PDA. The video plays on the PDA.

“The date shown in that video that was shown in the city was at 11:45 p.m. on December 7th. Given the distance between the school and the crime scene, it is not possible to move in an hour."

"And so..."

Kuro was also dressed in Japanese clothes. With a short sleeve and a hakama, the original long black hair hairstyle collected and the sword attached to the waist match, and it looks like a samurai.

The boy wears a yellow garment over a khaki kimono. It's a hand-sewn costume for a female student, but it's pretty cool.

"Yes. If it is proven that I was at school around 11:45 PM on the 7th, my alibi will be established."

"But you're in a single room. If you slept alone in the room, it wouldn't be an alibi."

Kuro turned his eyes to Neko. Neko also wears kimono. Although she was wearing it, she didn't seem to know how to wear the kimono, so he could see the white skin with the front wide open.

Neither the boy nor Kuro did not change their complexion because they got used to seeing Neko naked. Perhaps he couldn't see Neko playing with the obi in her hand, and when she approached him, he wrapped the obi around Neko's body with one hand as if he was gathering an old newspaper.

"I'm telling you! I don't accept this testimony as an alibi!"

"Kurosuke, you are stupid! Shiro has been with me since I met him! Wagahai's Shiro is a good Shiro!"

"Shut up. You're saying you don't trust me. If I find out you were responsible for this, don't worry. I'll be prepared."

The boy opened his mouth sweetly, looking at Kuro and Neko as if they were really like a dog and a cat.

"Well, it's my fault. That day was the day that preparations for the cultural festival were allowed at night, and as I recalled earlier, it was a day where there were many incidents."

"Incidents?"

The boy trusted the mysterious Kuro.

"So there must be someone who can prove that I was there too."

The boy used a bird hat to finish. A beard is also attached to the mouth.

"Hmm! How many times do you change your clothes while chatting!"

Feeling free to open the curtains on the simple wardrobe, Kukuri stuck her face inside.

"Oh, it looks good! Shiro-kun, you are a valuable person to look good like Ebisu-sama even if you are not fat at all."

The boy, Kuro, and Neko were forced to try on the costumes they would wear to the main event of the school festival. On the night of the school festival, they will wear these costumes, carry a sword and pull a horse to parade to the shrine behind the school.

The Ashinaka school school festival has a mysterious flavor, in part because it overlaps with the annual shrine festival.

Kukuri was in a good mood when she saw the three people wearing costumes, and while saying to Neko, "Wagahai-chan is a beautiful woman!" On the first day, Neko who hated wearing those clothes and had trouble with the boy's hands, was also happy to be told that she was a beautiful woman.

Well, the boy changed his expression.

He has been living at school almost normally for the past half day, but his life is involved. He has to ask someone to testify that he was at this school that day.

The boy saw Kikuri. The girl who started the confusion that night.

Yes, it started with a runaway boy who fell in love with her.

--- Testimony of the classmate, Sota Mishina.

Oh sure, it was around 11:45 PM on December 7th. There is no doubt that the preparations for the night of the school festival had just finished.

He climbed the stairs of the clock tower with the determination of a generation.

His heart was making a loud noise and his hands were sweaty and slimy. Still, he did not stop climbing the stairs. He is also a man. He will do what he has decided to do.

When he climbed to the top of the clock tower, he could see the view of Gakuenjima. Everyone is working hard to get ready for the school festival, which is coming up two weeks later, and the huge objects that he put in the yard look pretty good from the top, and the fire from the PDA that he plans to use at the night festival is beautiful.

He was thinking about that as he watched the situation below and was blown away by the cold midnight winter wind, he saw Yukizome coming. As a student council officer, she tells them to finish getting ready for the night. His reading that the last time she would come to the clock tower would be about 15 minutes before the date changed was correct.

Yukizome spoke a word or two with Inaba, who was pulling a rope, and came to the front of the clock tower. A moment before she tried to give instructions to everyone around her, he took a deep breath and yelled from the bottom of his stomach.

"Yukizome Kukuri-san! It's true love at first sight! Please go out with me!"

Everyone in the place fell silent and was looking towards the clock tower where he was.

Yukizome had the same lazy face as everyone else, but gradually her face turned red and she started to panic. It was cute, but she was so nervous that she was ashamed, so it wasn't the case.

After making a panicky movement, Yukizome turned to him and bent her head with force and bend her waist at a right angle.

"I'm sorry!"

He knew it. He was honestly thinking there was no pulse.

But he liked her for a long time, all year long. When he entered the school for the first time, he got lost because the school is big, Yukizome called him and accompanied him to his destination.

It's too big here, but she's so cute and kind, she was love at first sight. After that, she was nice to him.

Perhaps he misunderstood and thought she also liked him a bit. Yukizome is a kind person to everyone. He knew it wasn't just for him. Even so, he still wanted her to turn around. He wanted to hold her hand and dance together at the festival that night.

The dream was shattered and he was slightly shocked and unconscious. He was sad because he was totally sorry, he was sorry for Yukizome, who shrugged with a bright red face and ran away, and was not surprised by the eyes around her. He cries and stumble back. A strange laugh escaped his mouth, although it was not strange.

What he saw was a mountain of fireworks that was scheduled to be launched from the top of the clock tower at the school festival.

Filled with sadness, shame and apology, he wanted to blow away those feelings that swirled in his chest, so he approached the fireworks with a quick movement and lit them.

"Another love has fallen!"

The fireworks went straight up the night sky and the light flowers bloomed in the black sky. It was a memorial service for his love. He is reflecting on that now.

"You mean, what is it? Why do you suddenly want to hear about my sad night?"

"Huh? You wanted to ask if I saw Shiro at the confession? Would you mind the details of the confession if you heard that?"

"Oh... I don't know!" He could only see Yukizome in his eyes.

"That's right. Mishina-kun, were you watching everyone from the clock tower? You must have seen his figure when you were crushed!"

The boy lowers the end of his eyebrows and touches Mishina's arm.

The boy, accompanied by Kuro and Neko, caught Mishina, who was the party to the incident that night, in the corner of the classroom looking for someone to testify that the boy was on campus the night of December 7. He was listening to the story. As his costumes were still being tried on, Mishina was surrounded by Ebisu, Benten, and the Samurai.

Mishina was crying, perhaps because he remembered how he felt when he lost his love as he spoke.

"Don't say crush clearly! Why are you trying to smear a person's wound with salt?"

"Because even if I ask Kukuri, it's not so much at the time, and I don't remember if I was there..."

"Did you ask Yukizome-san?"

As Mishina cries with the urge to hold his head, the boy feels a little sorry and tries to comfort him.

"But Mishina-kun, shouldn't you have made the confession a bit more normal? Is it okay? Isn't it a problem for the other person?"

He thought he was worried, but the amount of tears that had accumulated in Mishina's eyes increased.

"At first, I approached her more normally! I tried to tell her that I casually liked her! But it was amazing to feel the goodwill!"

"Ah! Kukuri, that seems pretty boring."

The boy laughed inadvertently.

"So, as impressive and dramatic as possible, a confession aimed at the suspension bridge effect..."

As he said that, Mishina held his chest as if remembering the pain of a lost love, and was screaming.

Kuro, who was listening to the story with his arms crossed at his sides, punches Mishina's back to strengthen him.

"Don't be so depressed. I think your way of declaring yourself is wonderful."

"Oh, yes. I respect the love and action of passionate young men like Mishina-kun who can make such a confession."

"You guys never comforted me, are you stupid?"

"That's not the case. I was looking at Mishina-kun, who loves a girl so much, thinking it was really amazing."

While raising his hands and calming the approaching Mishina, Kuro looked at the boy with half-eyes.

"But there seems to be no evidence that he was at the site where Mishina was."

"Eh, huh? You actually saw Mishina-kun's crush site, can you talk about the details?"

"Many students will have witnessed Mishina-kun's crush site. You can acquire as much information as you wish later."

"Crush site... stop saying crush site!"

Mishina cried out in a sad voice. Neko laughs.

"Fireworks, sunrise! It was so beautiful!"

While innocently laughing, Neko expresses how the fireworks could be seen with both hands open. When she looked at it from the side, it seemed like she was thinking, "Did you see it too...?"

The boy doesn't remember if Neko was with him at the time (after all, he didn't know that Neko was a human girl at the time, he thought she was just a kitten), but Mishina was sad and urged him to lose love. The beauty of the fireworks launched remains in the boy's memory.

"By the way, it was the people from the student association who stopped the fireworks that Mishina continued to fire, right?"

Mishina shook his face with a bitter bite.

"Oh! They were there, the people from the student association."

--- Secretary of the student association, testimony of Sakura Asama.

She arrives on the scene just as the date changed from December 7-8.

It took about 15 minutes before the first fireworks were launched. At the time, she and President Hyuga were working in the student council room. President Hyuga is an excellent student president who is also known as a teacher with abundant intelligence and ability to execute. She was a little nervous when she was alone with the president in the student meeting room at night.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise and the outside of the window suddenly lit up. Many bright fireworks were blooming in the night sky. It was romantic watching the fireworks with the president, but that's not the case.

"What's wrong? There shouldn't have been an app for practice shooting fireworks, etc."

The president squinted through the back of her glasses and immediately contacted a student council officer who was supposed to be looking around the clock tower where Mishina was setting off fireworks. The president knows exactly where and what the executives plan to do and everyone's work schedule. That is why she can immediately give appropriate instructions and verify the situation. (Is that amazing? You're longing for it, right?)

Well, the PDA didn't connect. It's not unreasonable because the student association officer who should be looking around the clock tower was Yukizome.

She was unable to reach Yukizome, but soon another officer contacted the president.

It seems like second year Mishina Sota confessed to Yukizome from the top of the clock tower and was hovering around in despair and burning fireworks.

The president immediately ordered other officers to rush to the scene to stop the fireworks launcher. Sakura quickly got ready for office with the president. She took the wire cutter out of the toolbox and prepared to open the door even if the caster locks the clock tower and stands up.

Glancing sideways as she was ready, the president turned and walked out of the student council room, continuing to speak into the PDA. At that time, the president's clean hair was fluttering and smelling pleasant. The president's hair goes well with her image, and has a refreshing scent that is not sweet but fascinating.

It was midnight when she joined the other officers from the student association and arrived at the clock tower.

The area around the clock tower was full of gathered students.

The area around the clock tower was full of gathered students. Everyone just opens their mouths and watches the fireworks that are launched one after another. There were so many people, so she couldn't help stopping someone. Well, there are people who cannot move easily unless someone takes the initiative. That is why someone was needed who had the power to make decisions and act as the president.

The students around the clock tower noticed the arrival of the president and said: "The student association has arrived!" They raised their voices. It is an air that is safe if it comes from the president. The crowded students quickly cleared the way for the president, who was like Moses.

When the president observed the surroundings and understood the situation, she gave instructions in a clear voice. "Stop this!"

"Ah, the president was great!"

"Eh? If did I see Isana over there? I don't know. He's small so I didn't see him."

The boy was drowning.

It was good to visit the student council room with Kuro and Neko, see the first-year girl, Sakura Asama, and hear the story from the night of December 7, but it emphasized how wonderful the student council president was that day. He was unable to obtain any testimony that she saw the boy.

Asama is a fluffy, mature-looking girl who looks cool with braided hair that's tied sideways, but when the story reaches the student council president, the picture shows the heat dissipating.

Chiho Hyuga, the president of the student council in question, is processing the documents in question without paying attention to the boy, whether she is listening or not. Hyuga is a beautiful girl with straight black hair on her back and red-rimmed glasses. A talented person who stands at the top of the student association, rumored to be more powerful than teachers, and manages various school events. It has gained overwhelming popularity.

The boy sat down and asked Hyuga.

"I... should have been there, don't you remember?"

"I don't know. It wasn't work to see if a fool was in the place."

She replied coldly without raising her face.

The boy let out a disappointing voice in response to the blunt answer.

"It was really difficult at the time. What if the president didn't deal with it quickly? Do you have the article at the time?"

Asama presented the school newspaper to the boy as her cheeks turned slightly vermilion, perhaps in contradiction to Hyuga's attitude at the time. "The flower of love that bloomed in the night sky!" Below the caption, there were many photos from the scene from that night, including a photo of Mishina, who was captured by sympathetic students' association officers with both arms clasped. But…

"I am not here."

It is not far-fetched because he does not recall jumping into the camera to appear in the newspaper photos, but he is disappointed that there is nothing to prove his innocence.

Kuro looking at the newspaper next to the boy also looked rough. Only Neko has a mysterious appearance, as if the situation is still unknown.

"If you want a picture of the riot, why don't you ask the journalism club? Because they were filming a lot that day."

"Yes. The president should have dealt with the incidents that happened in succession, and her activities should have been photographed."

Asama leans her body enthusiastically. Hyuga raised her face without paying attention to Asama's situation, and finally turned her attention back to the boy.

"More than that, guys. No matter how much you are preparing for the culture festival, don't wander around campus in a playful way. Especially you, long accessories are forbidden."

Hyuga's eyes were on Kuro's waist.

"Ah, this is for accessories...!"

Kuro was upset, but Neko laughed happily, perhaps because he was angry. The boy wanted to confiscate weapons that were aimed at his own life if possible, but thought that trouble was more likely to occur because of that. He immediately left the student council room.

"What was that, did she say that 'Kotowari' is a prop?"

"Okay. It means your samurai style suits you too well."

The boy treats Kuro, who bites his teeth while walking down the hall, with appropriate words that move only half his head. Kuro looked at the costume he was wearing, and then turned his eyes to the boy and Neko.

"But, well... like this outfit, the school festival here has a lot of excitement."

"Also, under the initiative of the students, the members of the student association will divide so that everyone can do whatever they want and work together to do and prepare various things. Like December 7, there are days when you can prepare until the evening and there are many free places in this school."

The boy looks out the window. Students wave a props mallet in the yard, talk about how they are decorated, and laugh happily at each other. The scene seemed somewhat defeated and the boy narrowed his eyes.

"It's because it's peaceful that you can do this and work hard at it. I think it's amazing, very nice."

Speaking of stubbornness, Kuro opened his eyes a bit, looked at the boy's face suspiciously.

"Don't say something like an old man all of a sudden."

"Eh? Are you intrigued?"

"And don't forget that your situation is not peaceful at all."

"Ah! That's..."

The boy was drooling. Maybe she thought he was depressed, Neko hugged the boy's arm and encouraged him, "Shiro, cheer up!"

Kuro took a deep breath and crossed his arms in thought.

"By the way, that girl said the incidents happened quickly after that..."

"Oh, that's right. There was a crushing incident, and while the student association was going to capture Mishina, there was an uproar."

"What is that?"

--- Testimony of colleague Sumika Inaba.

About Mishina's case, she thinks it was tough. She thinks the time was around 0:15.

She was moving the horse that was going to guide the gods at the school festival.

He is a good and calm horse. He has beautiful brown fur, round black eyes, and is friendly. The riding club usually takes care of him, but that night they loaned it for the event.

"So, I was about to return the horse to the riding club stables, but that idiot Mishina made that confession, right? That guy is really useless. That kind of thing should only be done by a kid who has a pulse and that he's sure she likes flashy surprises. I think about Kukuri's feelings that she has to reject him in front of the public. Well, in Mishina's case, he wouldn't have had such an upset spirit to pressure her to say "yes". It's just stupid."

"When I looked at Mishina's feelings from the end, I knew it completely, but Kukuri was so bored in the love relationship that she did him no favors, so she desperately tried to make him notice it for himself."

"But I never heard about Mishina from Kukuri, but I understand that she has no more feelings for Mishina than she does from friends. There is a possibility that Kukuri likes him, no, not at all."

"Well, what was the story? Oh, the story after the confession case. Mishina was turned away and set off fireworks, so the horse I was leading was excited. I was desperate to calm him down. Normally he's quiet, but it seems like was surprised by the sound and the strange atmosphere."

Everyone around her was in awe of the fireworks that continued to increase with the momentum of today's school festival. Among them, there was a guy who had a PDA, but he always forgot that he had a fire and watched the fireworks. It seems that he was experimenting with the tatami used in the evening festival, but he was told to be very careful when using the fire, but he neglected his hand and looked up at the sky, so the fire was next to him. It burned the object that was there. It was an object stretched out with paper glued on a wooden frame, so it burned vigorously. The scene was in a panic.

Then the horse she was leading, which was already excited, saw the flames and panicked. She started running all the way so she was about to get dragged off the rope. The horse was running with a force that seemed to bounce off the people around him, and she was half crying and chasing him. Thanks to the fire and the raging horse, the people around her screamed.

"Really, that night was hard, right?"

"Huh? See Isana at the scene? I don't remember. Why is that important?"

The boy dropped his shoulders in front of the lonely Inaba.

"Hey... I'm looking for someone to prove that I was there..."

The boy, who found Inaba right in front of the clock tower at the scene of the incident, recalled that Inaba was in this place with a horse that night, but the result was also lost.

"Isana Shiro-kun has an image that is not strange wherever he is, so he doesn't leave much of an impression no matter where he is. It feels like he's not there, even though he's there..."

"That's..."

Inaba put her finger to her lips and tried to remember for a while, but finally shook her head.

"No. I can't remember. After the horse ran away, I couldn't even look around."

"I see. Yes… thank you…"

He couldn't hide his disappointment, but with a slight smile, the boy raised his hand to Inaba and thanked her. Inaba watches the boy's face closely.

"By the way, Kukuri said, "Shiro-kun looks like he's going to disappear somewhere when you take your eyes off." When I heard that, I didn't understand at all, but he was there. I felt like I couldn't remember what he was doing and I felt like I could understand what Kukuri said."

Inaba is a good friend of Kukuri. The boy hesitates a bit, wondering what they were talking about.

"Eh...? Am I that overshadowed?"

"That's all. He is a popular person who is loved by everyone. Somehow... well, I can't trust his existence... I can't express it well..."

Inaba turned her head several times, but quickly stopped giving an answer and returned her gaze and interest to Neko sitting on a bench and dangling by her legs in her spare time.

"By the way, are you Neko? It's an interesting nickname. It looks cute on you, doesn't it? The costume looks great. I'll give you a candy."

"Hurrah!"

When Inaba took out the candy wrapper from her pocket, Neko who was bored jumped up with a bright expression. Neko, whose head is caressed with candy in her mouth, looks like a little girl with a full forehead.

"Good girl, Neko-chan. Should I buy a delicious Daifuku later?"

"Really? Food!"

Seeing Neko loved like a younger sister is fun, but it's not the case when the boy smiles at her. He already felt at a dead end when searching. Feel the spicy skin next to her, with a haunting aura.

She wishes she could remember who the boy spoke to that night, but sadly she doesn't have such a clear memory.

"You…"

"Ah, wait! Oh, look! Asama-san said that a lot of people in the journalism club were taking pictures that night, right? I'm sure if you ask him…"

Upon detecting Kuro's signal that he is about to draw the sword, the boy asked Inaba who was with Neko, quickly.

"I am also a journalism club. Do I ask the director?"

Inaba simply takes the PDA out of her pocket and calls the manager.

The director of the journalism department appeared to be taking pictures of the school festival preparations and came with a beautiful single-lens reflex camera hanging from his neck.

Upon hearing from Inaba, the director took the tablet from the PDA and searched for a photo from the night of the incident.

"It's a photo from December 7th, within an hour from 11:45 PM. Right after Mishina made the confession until the fire was extinguished and the wild horse was captured. At that time, there were many incidents at the same time, so several people took pictures at random."

"Wow, help!"

Looking like a god of salvation, the boy jumped on the offered tablet. Kuro also looks seriously.

While looking for the reflection of himself in a large number of photographs, Inaba went away saying: "See you later. I'm going to the classroom.", And the director of the journalism club began to photograph the traces of burned objects in front of clock tower. Neko who seems to be free begins to play with the cleaning robot, type Tsukumo 99, which was passing by.

In the idyllic afternoon sun, the boy and Kuro kept looking at the images on the tablet one by one.

Fireworks strewn across the night sky. The horse looking at them. The student council president who arrived in a hurry. A student association officer who opens the door of the clock tower. An object that begins to burn.

Dismay, come and go, run away, fire extinguisher.

Students who run with them. A horse that begins to raze and run. Those who run away from the horse, those who pursue it. Mishina is captured and taken out of the clock tower. The student council president who sees the noise outside and quickly begins to give directions. A student association officer who brings down students desperately trying to put out the fire with a fire extinguisher and pulls a hose from the fire extinguisher. Discharge of water that starts strongly. A member of the riding club runs in. A member that stops chasing the horse and keeps them away. A horse that moves through the school grounds. Students who coordinate and monitor. A flame extinguished by discharge of water. Guys who are full of soot and rejoice in putting out the fire safely. People around her clapping. A boy who starts crying. The student council president scolds him. However, after that, the vision of putting her hand on his shoulder as if he was happy he wasn't hurt. In a calm and warm mood, a horse that has run and calmed down slowly returns, and a member of the riding club and Inaba gently catch him. Robots that appear to "clean up the mess."

There were so many photos. The boy kept rushing to see the images appearing one after the other, but gradually the movement of the fingers when swiping the images weakened.

"No..."

Involuntarily a helpless sound leaked out. Many of the photos show a large number of other students who are not the protagonists of the case, but the boy who should have been there is nowhere reflected.

"I think I was wandering around here."

When he lowered his eyebrows, the director of the journalism club, who was pointing the camera around him, looked back with a look of surprise.

"Ah, really? There are so many photos from that day, so if you were there, you could find them somewhere, right?"

"No..."

Family views and rushed friends appear one after another, but he can't find the essential boy.

Kuro made his badass look even sharper and turned to the boy.

"You, after all, weren't there!"

"What happened? Is it important that you were there?"

The boy smiled a warm smile, suppressing the director of the journalism club, who bit a strange place and said: "No, it's nothing."

After all, unable to find a photo where it appeared, the boy returned the tablet containing the photos to the director of the journalism club and thanked him.

The boy, who had been unconcerned by the memory and the confidence that he was there that day, began to feel a gradual impatience.

"Hmm, I'm in trouble. I'm sure of it."

Although he made an effort to have a carefree voice, he painfully feels the disturbing signals emitted by Kuro getting louder and louder. Look sideways. Kuro with his eyes on his sword, seemed to have come to the realm of murder out of suspicion and anger, and looked at the boy with cold air. Partly due to the disguise he was wearing, he had the feeling that he was a samurai trying to behead the enemy. It can seriously cut it.

When the boy was in a cold sweat and faced Kuro, a bright and refreshing voice broke through the tense atmosphere.

"Oh, Shiro-kun!"

Kukuri, holding a luggage in his arms, was puffing out his cheeks when he saw the boy.

"Everyone is busy, but what are you doing?"

Before the boy made an excuse, he withdrew the murderous signal from the sword that had leaked just now, walked over, and scooped up the heavy luggage stuck in the cardboard box from Kukuri's arm. When asked, "Where are you going to take him?", Kuro has grown into a young warrior who is kind to girls and children. In a short relationship, the boy knew enough to say that he was basically a very caring man.

Kukuri happily thanked her and smiled.

"So can you bring it to the staff room? I have to take this to the student council room."

"I get it."

The moment he heard the exchange between Kukuri and Kuro, an inspiration ran inside the boy.

"Oh, that's right... the staff room..."

The boy gently raised the edge of his mouth.

"The student's departure record? Daimon?"

"Yes."

The old teacher who is in charge of literature has a rough and very laid-back personality. He is the perfect person to make this request.

The literature teacher turns his head mysteriously.

"Good, but... why again..."

"No, it's not a big deal... just that I could die."

The boy turns to the literature teacher and tells him the situation in a whisper. The teacher said, "Oh, yeah." If it was troublesome even though it seemed like he didn't understand why.

"When?"

"December 7th."

Check-out for December 7th was provided by a former literature teacher. When the boy succeeded, he laughed at an angle that did not look like a fox.

The only entrance to Ashinaka High School, which is an island, is the gate in front of the connecting bridge that connects to the mainland, commonly known as Daimon. To pass, the door sensor must be made to read the school-designated PDA, which also serves as a student ID card. Basically, all the times of entry and exit of people are recorded.

As he left the staff room and walked down the street in front of the research building, the boy analyzed whether the student's check-in and check-out from December 7, which he had just received, is endorsed to prove his identity. Start going through the list.

"Torisawa, Ariyoshi, Iida, Ikuno... Next is Inoue! Look! Isana Yashiro is not here."

On the paper, the names of the students who passed through the door that day are listed in the order of Aiueo, and the transit time is recorded next to each name. Students who go to school are basically on schedule to get in and out of school, and students who do not live in the dorm are on time to leave and return to school.

There is no boy's name on the paper, which means that the boy who lives in the dorm has not left campus one step that day.

The boy killed the tension and listened to Kuro's reaction with a casual face.

Kuro doesn't look at the recording paper the boy is showing, and walks with his gaze down with a calm expression that makes it difficult to tell what he's thinking.

"Shiro, Shiro! Wagahai is hungry!"

Neko who was not interested in what they were doing, complained innocently.

The boy does not care about Neko's comment, and pushes the recording paper to force him to see Kuro, who is looking down.

"This cleared your suspicions, right?"

Still, Kuro doesn't move his expression or his gaze. While the boy gulped and waited for Kuro's behavior, Neko feeling ignored clenched her fist with both hands and screamed.

"I'm hungry!"

Both the boy and Kuro stop at the scream of Neko's angry girlish look.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm relieved, so let's have a snack slowly."

"Yahoo! Snack! Kukuri has delicious senbe! After that, Kukuri's friend should buy Daifuku! Oh, I'm thirsty! Buy something, Shiro. Let's go!"

Neko, who is excited about the snacks, moves in a good mood and romps.

However, in contrast to Neko's high enthusiasm, Kuro still looks at the boy coldly.

The boy sighed and said in a tone reminiscent of the confused.

"That's why everyone who enters and leaves this island is controlled by the automatic gate. It is a pip. The fact that it is not on this list means that I have been on this island the entire time and could not have gone to the crime scene. Right?"

Kuro still hasn't opened his mouth. The boy left him and turned to Neko who was waiting in front of the vending machine.

"Wagahai should have juice!"

"That? Not enough coins."

When the boy clenched his pockets in an attempt to respond to Neko's pleas, a beep was heard. So, there is a sound of the juice Neko wanted.

When he raised his face, Kukuri, who was holding the PDA over the vending machine, turned her dismayed face towards the boy.

"Don't you have the PDA again? It's a rule, so you have to have it correctly. I mean, it's a pass."

An eerie air fell over the place. It can be understood without looking. There is a sign of anger that crosses the skin of the person in charge.

"Kukuri. Are you saying this boy never carries a PDA?"

Kukuri is unaware of Kuro's disturbances. The boy raised his finger in front of his mouth and desperately sent a gesture that he wanted to keep a secret, but Kukuri didn't notice and took it easy.

"No matter how much you tell him, he will forget."

"You can't walk through the door without a PDA, right?"

"He always manages."

The boy covered his face with the palm of his hand. He thinks he did, and it was at the same time that Kuro touched his sword.

"Kukuri. From now on, something unpleasant will happen here. Leave us alone."

"Wait, wait! I'm serious! I'm seriously looking for evidence!"

"Okay, I know you are a dishonest man."

In response to Kuro's threat, Neko stood up with a threatening voice and stood in front of the boy. Kuro keeps Neko in a sharp line of sight.

"Go away, or are you still this guy's partner? Do you want to get cut off with your master?"

"Wagahai is a cat! I'm Shiro's cat! I won't give you Shiro, Kurosuke!"

Neko hugged the boy with a desperate face and tried to be the boy's shield. Neko is hideously self-taught, but like animal cats, she is sensitive to danger. She exposes herself to Kuro, who is about to draw his sword, and strongly appeals over misaligned issues.

"Shiro is a good person and we eat delicious rice and sandwiches together!"

"Easy, Neko. You're making things more complicated."

The boy calmed the watery-eyed Neko and pushed her behind him.

She is innocent about the murder case, but it is true that she tried to ridicule him. The only one he should be mad at is the boy, who cannot involve or hurt Neko.

As soon as the boy took a position to hold Neko on his back, he rolled his eyes as if confused. Kuro, with a sad look, loosens his hand from the sword's handle as if he had lost.

"Sorry, Kuro. I'll take it seriously from now on! There were still a lot of things that day! Sprinkler destruction incident, toilet flooding incident, gym ceiling penetration incident, etc. I must have been somewhere. That's it! "

As the boy said, Kukuri, who had been left vacant with a face that until then could not swallow the situation, responded to the case of penetrating the roof of the PE warehouse and said, "What?"

"I ran into Shiro-kun at the gym that day, right?"

The boy opened his eyes to Kukuri's words, which seemed casual.

--- Testimony of the classmate, Kukuri Yukizome.

That day, she had the incident with Mishina at the clock tower... She was shocked and embarrassed. She did not know what to do and ran away.

She felt sorry when she learned later that there were several difficult things after that...

When she escape to the school building, she could hear loud voices and sounds from the clock tower all the time, and the people in the school building also noticed the noise and looked at the situation towards the clock tower. "I ran towards, I... I mean... it's also the cause... I felt like I didn't have a place to hide..."

So when she walked through the school building and down the high street, she heard something loud in the gym. She went to see what happened.

"It really was a terrible noise..."

When she opened the gym door and looked inside, she found Shiro. She was surprised because she didn't think there were people.

("Isana-kun! What are you doing here? Hmm. You were skipping the preparations for the school festival, right?")

"Shiro-kun disappears and takes a nap somewhere. Oh, but it was time to get ready for the night, so maybe it was a nap. If it makes him sleepy, I wish he would at least rest in the bedroom."

When he was talking about it, she suddenly realized that the moonlight was coming from a strange angle into the gym, which should be dark, and when she looked up, there was a large hole in the ceiling of the warehouse.

"Shiro-kun, you were also surprised when the ceiling suddenly fell, weren't you? I'm so glad you didn't hurt yourself."

That's why she went to the staff room to report. After all, it seemed that the roof was quite damaged, and it seemed that something flying in the wind had fallen. It is an old warehouse and it looks like they are going to demolish and rebuild it.

"Hmm? Shiro-kun, why do you look so happy?"

The boy who moved to the gym with Kukuri, and they looked up at the hole in the ceiling. The hole was repaired by putting a wooden board in its shape, but sunlight shone through the gaps in the board.

This is the scene of the "PE Warehouse Roof Penetration Incident", which is a relatively small incident among the many incidents that occurred that night. The discoverers are Isana Yashiro and Kukuri Yukizome.

"Oh, that's right. Hey, do you remember exactly when it was?"

The boy looked at Kukuri with a face that couldn't hide expectations and joy.

Kukuri operated the PDA in her hand to display a single photo. She had to report the hole in the gym to her teacher. The image clearly shows the boy looking at the hole in the ceiling.

The date and time data in the photo are...

"It was at 12:30."

"Less than an hour from the time of the crime."

The boy sighed with deep relief.

Kuro muttered with a complicated expression that seemed unhappy, but somehow relieved.

"It is impossible to return from the scene of the crime at that time."

"This time, the alibi is established!"

The boy jumped for joy. Even though Neko doesn't seem to understand the meaning, she jumps out with a face that makes the boy happy.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Kukuri looked at the boy with a clean face.

"You are my lifeline!"

The girl who proved the boy's innocence blinked slowly.

++++++++++

He was confused by himself, that somewhere in his heart he was relieved that an alibi was found.

He may not have been a bad "King", but the boy is a dishonest man. He try to pray for Kuro with a sigh. However, in front of Kuro, who was about to draw his sword, the boy kept Neko behind his back. If he is a coward, he will escape with a woman as a shield, he can cut him off without worrying about it.

When he saw the boy hiding Neko, the memories of the old days returned to his mind.

It was a memory from when Kuro was ten years old. There was an incident where a man who was Kuro's brother and Miwa's disciple, requested a battle from Miwa and raised his sword. Kuro, who was still young, wanted to protect his beloved master while confused, and trembled while holding a stick.

That brother, he was terribly strong. That person was offensive to Miwa. That fact scared him and made him think that he had to keep Miwa safe even if he replaced him.

However, Miwa gently put his hand on his head and smiled gently, appearing in front of him with a very natural movement.

The Miwa of that time and his appearance overlapped with the boy and Neko who was hiding.

Kuro knows the horror of having a loved one threatened.

Kuro also knows the strength and goodness of his back, which stands up to threat and protects.

"Is he fake or not? What is he?"

Kukuri, who was next to him, raised her face at the leaked message inadvertently.

"Hmm? Kuro-kun, did you say something?"

"No, nothing, sorry."

"Hmm... that? By the way, Shiro-kun?"

After confirming the boy's alibi in the gym, Kuro and the others returned to the classroom with Kukuri. However, along the way, the boy seems to have gone somewhere alone. A man soft and restless as a balloon. Although an alibi was found, the murder video mystery stands strong, and although the situation has not been resolved, he is surprised that it is a person with a weak sense of crisis.

"Hey, Kukuri, sandwich!"

Neko always becomes attached to the boy, but now it seems that with Kukuri's words, "Let's give her a sandwich", she stays glued to Kukuri.

"Yes. Kukuri-san's rice patisserie is open! Wagahai-chan, roasted rice, Negi Miso, roasted shrimp mochi, roasted mochi, carrot shoyu, Zarame roasted mochi, super spicy roasted mochi."

Kukuri takes the rice cakes out of the paper bag one after another and orders them. Neko looked at the rice cake with bright eyes.

"Is it spicy? Super spicy?"

"Super spicy is a very spicy rice cake."

"You want?"

"That's right, it's going to be very hot!"

"Nyaaah! Then that!"

He looked at Kukuri and Neko happily playing with each other, and Kuro pondered.

If the boy is really innocent and someone puts him to sleep and dresses in the murderer's wet robe, then his life in this school cannot be destroyed. The boy is a careless man, but after working together all day today, he knew well that he was surrounded by many friends at this school and loved this peaceful life. If something happens to the boy, Kukuri and the others will be sad.

After seeing Kukuri parading around the room and handing out rice cakes to other friends for a moment, Kuro looked at Neko sideways.

"Hey, Neko."

To Neko who is happy to receive a spicy rice cake from Kukuri, Kuro bluntly throws words at her.

"I am still reluctant to your existence, but what are you really? Why are you with Isana?"

"Wagahai is a cat."

"That again... Are you a Strain?"

"Strain?"

"He is a talented and lonely person."

Neko puffed out her cheeks as if offended.

"I was alone, but now I have Shiro. Because this Shiro, I'm not alone anymore. Also being with Shiro, I received a snack from Kukuri."

"Isana the one who picked you up?"

"Shiro picked up Wagahai, and Wagahai picked up Shiro. So Neko is Shiro's cat, and Shiro is Neko's."

What Neko says is still irrational. However, even so, Kuro has deepened his sympathy for Neko.

Kuro is also a person who was alone until he was picked up by Miwa.

"Since when have you been with Isana?"

He felt a bit grumpy and made a softer voice than before, but Neko didn't answer this question. She turns to the side and holds the rice cake she received to her chest and walks away from Kuro.

Kuro sighed deeply and looked around.

In the classroom, students are on their feet and working to prepare for the school festival. Everyone was working hard, especially Kukuri seemed to be busy, and although she was still smiling, she was on her feet and working as she watched the progress here and there.

(Because it's nice to be able to do this and work hard at it. I think it's really nice.)

Remembering the boy's words, Kuro inwardly agreed. Everyone enjoys peace as a matter of course, so they can work hard to prepare for a festival like this. Is very precious.

It was supposed to be a distant vision for Kuro, who is destined to cut down the evil "King".

However, when he was looking at them, he feared they were uncomfortable.

According to the boy, the school festival was only three days away. Even so, he can still see a blank cloth in the hands of the students who are sewing the costumes, will they be okay? They are putting together an accessory, but if they stretch the board first, he thinks they won't be able to fit that part later. As for the group that does interior decoration, it seems they don't even know what they want to do, but maybe they can't get it done in time.

As he stared at them, something in Kuro began to sting him. It may be because the boy's search for a alibi has stabilized and relaxed him. Since Kuro is from a rural school with a single digit number of students, it is possible that he was not related to such a school festival and has stimulated something of a longing. Maybe the nice guys at this school he was involved with today couldn't just leave him alone, thinking he might get in trouble later.

"Hey! Then they won't be able to make it in time for the school festival! Lend me the tools! I'll help you!"

When he suddenly raised his voice, the students' eyes slyly met. Kukuri rounded her eyes, and the next moment she said with a happy voice, "Really? Help!"

++++++++++

The boy returned to the bedroom, rubbing around his tense shoulders.

He has not been able to take a nap in his daily routine because he was desperately moving while being watched by Kuro today. When he was relieved, he was suddenly tired and sleepy.

"Oh, I'm tired. I wonder if they want to kill me every day."

As he tried to dive into bed, he found he was still in his school festival costume and stopped. Sorry for the clothes his friend sewed with so much effort.

"Wow, I left my uniform in the classroom."

The boy opened the closet looking for a change of clothes. He should also pick up his uniform when his deliver the costume to the classroom later. He searches a poorly organized closet, trying to put on comfortable clothes.

As soon as he grabbed a replacement shirt from the bottom of the closet and lifted it, the boy's body froze.

There is blood.

As soon as he realized that, his body starts to shake.

Under the shirt he grabbed, there was another white shirt. Blood was attached to the front like splatter. It became rough and hard.

Does not know. He doesn’t know what that is.

The boy did not remember the bloodstained shirt. The only thing he inevitably remember is that murder movie.

(It's a beautiful night, right? I came to take a night view, but what are you doing in such a place? I'm Tatara Totsuka, and you?)

Someone with the boy's face turns around and shoots the photographer who speaks quietly.

When the image is blurry and the photographer collapses for a moment, and then the person who looks like the boy reappears, the shirt is stained with blood.

(I am the Seventh King, the Colorless King. I am waiting for someone. Is it a good, night? Oh, yes, it is a good night!)

The shot in the video echoes behind the boy's ears.

Is different. He can't be him. He doesn't remember that, and Kukuri proved he was in Gakuenjima 45 minutes after the crime. Thinking normally, there should be no way to get from the crime scene to Gakuenjima in 45 minutes.

But... no one proved his alibi at the time of the crime. It must have been in front of the clock tower at the time, but no one remembered if it was there and it wasn't in the photos.

"Wrong! It's not me! I'm not killing people! So... what is this damn shirt?"

Many thoughts swirled in the boy's head.

"Shiro!"

Neko's bright voice broke into the boy's disturbed thought.

The boy hurriedly shoved his shirt back and closed the closet door.

When he raised his face, innocent-faced Neko had just entered the room.

"What? What's wrong? Oh, is it a sandwich?"

"Kukuri gave me a super spicy rice sandwich! So, she said to call you, and after that she said she will give me an ultra-spicy sandwich!"

Neko moves happily and informs to express her mood with her whole body.

The boy returned an awkward smile.

"Okay, now I'm going."

Neko looks at the boy's face and clouds her happy face a bit.

"Shiro…? Does your stomach hurt?"

Eagerly walking towards Neko, the boy puts his hand on her head.

"Is nothing."

Suppressing the anxiety and fear that slowly spread throughout his body, the boy gently stroked Neko's head.

#k #k project #k the first story #Isana Yashiro #Yatogami Kuroh #neko #k fan clan #k novel

[lovemesomesurveys]

What’s the last vegetable you ate, and when did you eat it? I had spinach in my homemade egg and cheese mcmuffin yesterday. 

What was your last Facebook notification for? Notifying me someone added a photo to a group I’m in.

What bands have you seen live? Several because a few of the concerts I’ve been to featured a few bands, which was cool. I don’t feel like listing them all.

Tell me an interesting fact about your mother: She wanted to go into the marines, but unfortunately life happened and her plans got put on hold and ultimately never happened. That was her dream. :/

What do you think is the most important thing to happen to you before the age of 13? Uhh. The accident I had at 7 months old that made me a paraplegic and changed my life forever?

What were you super against as a young child but aren’t anymore? Scary movies. I love ‘em now.

What are your plans later today? Stay in bed most of the day sleeping, watching TV, scrolling through Tumblr, watching YouTube, and checking my social medias. 

Are you doing anything exciting this weekend? It’s the weekend and that’s all I’m doing ^^^. 

Who do you talk to the most? My mom.

What are some things you do regularly that make you feel old? I feel old because of how I feel, health wise.

Who is your best guy friend(s)? I don’t have one.

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I’d like to be a little tanner.

If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? I do have some tiny scars on my face and I just let them be. 

Have you had an x-ray in the past year? Yes.

Do you think your first love still loves you? He never did.

What is something that is “going right” in your life? I’ve been going through a really hard time the past month, actually.

When did you feel ready to start dating? I thought I was when I had my first boyfriend at 16, but nope.

When was the last time your pet bit you? If you don’t have a pet, have you ever been bitten by someone else’s? She’s never bitten me.

Where were you the last time you made out? I think it was in his car. It’s been several years now since then, so I’m not quite sure.

When was the last time you cried tears of joy? I’m not someone who tends to cry for that reason.

How do you type your sad smileys? :(

Do you have “decorative hand-towels” that cannot be used in your house? Nope.

What was the last soda you drank? I had some Coke to take my medicine earlier. 

What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? *shrug*

Have you ever had any type of surgery? Yeah, a few.

Should kids be allowed to get tattoos/piercings without parental consent? Uh, no.

Who was the last person to hit on you? It’s been a longgg time since that has happened.

What was the last thing you decided not to do, that you were supposed to? I was supposed to make a phone call yesterday.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell someone? Hm.

What do you put on hot dogs? On the very rare occasions I had a hot dog I just put ketchup and mustard.

Ever fallen in the shower? No, thankfully.

Do you think that things will get better? I can’t see that right now. :/

Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? No.

What’s your favourite book genre? Murder mysteries and psychological thrillers. 

Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? Once. I honestly don’t remember why, though.

Do dogs like you? Yes.

Would you say that you project an air of authority? Ha, no.

Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? Nooo.

Do you use one towel when you shower or two? (one for hair, one for body) One.

Have you ever been to one of the great lakes? Nope.

Who do you know that had a baby recently? A few people on my Facebook.

Do you like Usher’s songs? Yeah, I like several of his songs.

When was the last time you went to a waterpark? Never. I don’t do waterslides. 

Have you ever ridden a train? Nope.

What do you eat your French fries with? Ranch.

Do you have family problems? No family is perfect. 

What’s the last food you ate that was stale? Hm. I don’t recall.

How do you like your grilled cheese? Cheesy.

What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? The only thing I cook is ramen, which isn’t challenging at all. I’m so not a cook. What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? I lovedddd playing Barbies.

Have you ever been close to drowning? No, but that’s a fear of mine since I can’t swim so even with floaties or an inner tube I don’t feel safe.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Many times.

Do you like doing housework? No.

Would you ever get implants? No.

Do you own a robe? Nope. I have a Snuggie, though.

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Nope.

Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off? No, I just eat the top layer of dough on the pizza. 

What was the last song you listened to? I don’t remember.

Have any of your family members been to jail? No one in my immediate family, but some extended family members have.

Is there anyone that you feel you still need some closure with? Not anymore.

Can you remember when you first learned how to read? Not exactly.

What event in your life has transformed your personality the most? I’m sure my accident had a big impact.

Have you ever had any teeth pulled? Yes.

Do you still want to be what you wanted to be in elementary school? Noo. Back then I wanted to be a teacher, but that changed when I got to like middle school.

What’re some TV shows that you would like to get into? I have a list of new shows I want to check out, but I have yet to get around to. Oh, I did start this new show on Freeform called “Cruel Summer” that just started last week, though.

How would you feel if you were drafted for the military? I can’t due to my physical disability.

What is your favorite Queen song? I like Bohemian Rhapsody, Under Pressure, We Will Rock You/We are the Champions, and Another One Bites the Dust.

Do you know how to use any foreign currency? I’ve never had to.

Been kissed by someone who you knew was “bad” for you? You could say that.

Ever taken an at-home pregnancy test? Nope. Never had a reason to.

When was the last time you were at a loss of what to do? The past few years. Now.

What did you do on your favorite date with a guy/girl? I loved going to Starbucks and then wandering around bookstores with Ty.

What’s a movie you have seen in the theater more than once? There’s several, like the big ones I’m really excited about and into such as the Marvel movies.

What is the reason you’re still alive? My family.

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? No.

Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? Not usually.

Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) Maaaybe.

Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Yes, I’ve been told that. I think they did feel that way at the time.

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but I always wake up feeling shitty.

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? Yes.

Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Well yeah, it’s not something you just say in the romantic sense. I love my family and tell them so.

Would you date someone with a physical disability? Yeah. I have a physical disability.

Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? I’m a virgin.

The last time you dyed your hair, what color did you dye it? Red.

Think of the last time you went out to eat. Who paid? My mom.

Do you save at least 15 percent of your income? I try to at least.

Do you ever go on Reddit? If so, what are some of your favorite subreddits? I’ve Googled things that led me to Reddit, but I don’t go on there specifically.

Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? Nope.

Are your parents in good health? Fortunately, yes.

Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? Nope. I’m the one who has the caregiver.

Is there any type of medicine you can’t take? For what reason? Well, I can’t take pills unless I can crush them.

Do you have a favorite pair of pajamas? What do they look like? My pajamas are also what I wear during the day, which are leggings and graphic tees. 

Do you have any interesting pillow cases? I have a Michael Myers throw pillow, a couple other Halloween (the holiday) themed ones with skeletons and stuff on ‘em that I’ve had up since last Halloween, a Star Wars one, and a body pillow with giraffe print.

If something on your body hurts, which part is it most likely to be? My back, stomach, neck.

Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Spiders, but I’m afraid of both. I’m afraid of ALL bugs.

Have you ever worn fake nails? If so, what did the last pair you wore look like? No.

Is Russian or Native American history more interesting to you? Various topics in history are interesting to me.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[boymeetsweevil]

Watch Yourself

Grouping: Reader x Hoseok

Word Count: ~7770

Warnings/Themes: Peeping Tom-ish/Voyeurism, Hoseok is a closetexhibitionist, (and apparently so it OC) public sex, fingering, so much boob stuff, penetrative sex, too much talk centered around Hob’s hands, this is basically just pwp guys that second p is questionable

Summary: It starts with an invitation from your ex. It ends with Hoseok’s hands down your pants in said ex’s kitchen.

Part of the Masterlist for Group 2 of the @btssmutclub Summer Project

tagging: @jeoneric @betysotelo18

There is something utterly sad about visiting the tiny local strip mall before 11am on a Saturday. Sadder yet is the fact that you are there by yourself, with no friend in sight. Said friend was supposed to come with you for moral support and to give his valued opinion on the swim wear you were there to buy. But, of course, something had to go wrong. Wonho, your fashion student friend, called you this morning to tell you that he pulled a muscle in his groin at the gym that same day and sent you a Snapchat of him in the campus clinic with an ice pack as proof.

As you pay for your tea for the morning from a small kiosk, you take in the fact that even the old ladies power walking around the floors of the mall and the elementary schoolers running to the arcade have their friends with them. You make a mental note to guilt trip Wonho a little bit when you see him next. Which will probably be at the pool party that necessitated this outing in the first place.

When you started attending your university, you came in with a high school sweetheart of sorts. Your ex had been one of the kindest guys you knew, albeit a little insecure. You thought he’d grow out of it, you were sure of it. But once he got accepted into his frat of choice after much ass-kissing, he changed. You endured it for 3 years too long before finally getting fed up in the middle of fall semester of your senior year. Since then, it had been smooth sailing, but also radio silence on your ex’s end.

It’s now the summer following your graduation and this invitation to his pool party seems to be coming from nowhere. Your friend Irene bluntly suggested it wasn’t because he really wanted you back in his life, but because he wanted to show off his new girlfriend to his old girlfriend. Your other friend, Monica, showed you the new girlfriend’s picture. She was pretty, into horses, and did charity on the weekends.

(1 week prior)

“She seems nice,” you sniffed at the image on Monica’s screen before cutting into your pancakes from your favorite brunch spot. They were a little too thick this time and the force of your cutting shook the little table you were all seated at.

“Her style is a little 2008,” Wonho commented as he scrolled through the pictures on the girl’s account. “I didn’t think people still did the tunic and black cropped leggings thing anymore.”

Irene pinned him with a dirty look. “Lots of people still do that. I do that.”

“Yeah, you do,” he frowned disapprovingly.

You and Monica watched Irene and Wonho bicker about statement belts for a moment before she turned to you abruptly, shoving the phone back in your face like a bad omen.

“You know you have to go to that pool party, right?”

“Uh, yeah. We said we were all thinking of going, right?”

“I mean, maybe. But you specifically need to go.”

“Why?”

“Because you need to show him that you’re onto him and that he made a huge mistake losing you.”

“But I don’t care about him anymore,” you said innocently through a bite of eggs.

‘It’s the principle of the thing,” she sighed. “Your bathing suit has to be amazing, none of this—this,” she waved her hands in the air as if trying to conjure up the right phrase, “monochromatic one-piece mess.”

“What’s wrong with my one-piece?”

“It doesn’t do any favors for your body.”

“Wait a second, I—”

“It’s true,” Wonho turned to you, eyes so serious they make you lose train of thought. “You have a great silhouette and you rarely do it justice.”

“Yeah,” Irene chimed in and gestured to your hoodie, “I’ve been meaning to ask you why you have so many of those...shirts.”

“For comfort, maybe? You guys ever heard of that?”

The three of them blinked owlishly at you before Monica reached out to pat your hand. “It’s okay, sweetie. You’ll figure this bathing suit thing out.”

You follow the various signs hanging down from the mall ceiling telling you the names of various shops and start browsing.

With your friend’s voices in your head, you try not to rely on your basic instincts too much and instead go to the stores you’ve heard Monica praise or seen Wonho shop at when buying clothes as birthday presents. You pass by one store you know all of your friends would approve of. But it positively reeks of sophistication and trendiness, so you circle the entire floor before eventually after coming back empty from the other stores. This one boutique has dim and flattering lighting and there’s an expensive smelling perfume wafting around the place when you push through the front door.

Instantly you get the urge to turn and walk out. All the other people in the store look like they walked out of fashion catalogs themselves. Even the employees refolding garments and waiting at the cash register are all perfectly proportioned, symmetrical, and statuesque. You thank the universe that you chose a neutral outfit: dark jeans Wonho bought for you after taking your measurements with painstaking care and a plain black tank top to beat the heat.

You consider sending a text to the group chat to ask for help when you enter the swimsuit section, but your pride and stubbornness rule that option out. So you just pick a bunch of swimsuits you think would look good on you and head over to the changing room. The attendant there is organizing the rack of returned garments and has his back to you when you enter the changing room hallway.

“How many items,” the attendant asks.

“It looks like I have 3,” you mutter after counting.

“Be right with you.”

You spend the time he takes to finish grouping items to take in his appearance.The back of his head and his voice are oddly familiar.

“Um, this might be a weird question, but are you Hoseok? Jung Hoseok?”

“I thought that was your voice.” The man in front of you turns and nods, a shy, but brilliant grin creeping onto his face. “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, it’s good to see you.”

Jung Hoseok had been one of your ex-boyfriend’s frat brothers and former “friend”. If there was no one closer around, your ex would hang out with Hoseok and a bunch of other guys not in his inner circle. And when there were closer guys around, you ex would ignore you. So you’d talk with Hoseok. He kept you company many a night when your boyfriend was nowhere to be found and you were alone at the frat parties you were only attending out of girlfriend loyalty.

From what you remember, Hoseok was an architecture and dance double major. He always had good jokes, good weed, and a flirty vibe about him. You’re a little ashamed to admit that you flirted back despite the fact that you were often around him as someone else’s date. But it never progressed into anything more. Not even after you broke up with your ex and were attending the parties to spite him briefly after the break up.

Hoseok would smoke you out and crowd you into the kitchen corner while you passed a blunt back and forth, exchanging banter and heated glances but nothing more. You spent more nights than you’re willing to confess to thinking about the comfortable press of his hand on the small of your back.

Now, he still looks the same as he did half a year ago, but with the addition of a golden tan from the part of the summer that’s already passed. He looks good in his impeccably white t-shirt and uniform slacks with his artfully tousled hair. Among the other model-like employees he fits right in. It’s a little unfair.

“You enjoying your summer,” he asks while giving you the perfunctory little card with a number 3 on it before leading you through a hall of changing rooms.

“Sort of. I moved into a new apartment with one of my friends, and we just finished getting settled. I’m gonna start teaching in the fall.”

“Teaching, huh? Whereabouts?” Hoseok selects one of the large fitting rooms all the way in the back. The ones that can fit packs of friends who are very invested in the outfit picking process.

“You know the Montessori school out by the northern part of the city?” He nods in recognition. “It’s that one.”

He lets out a low whistle at the mention of the small private elementary school that all the city’s most wealthy inhabitants bring their children to. “Sounds like it’ll be a good move, then. You’re living the dream, huh?”

“Yeah,” you duck your head modestly as you linger in front of the changing room door. “What about you? Are you here for the summer?”

“For the summer,” he confirms, “Then I’m moving into the city too. Near the Big Hit park to work with a firm there.”

“Are you gonna be interning?”

“I’m gonna be leading a project with my own design, actually.”

“Oh, Hoseok, that’s great! It’s really early in the game too. You’re going places.”

“Yeah, its—” he stops to look around the area and takes a reluctant step back. You realize then just how close you two were standing to each other. “I don’t want to hold you up if you’ve got friends waiting on you to pick something out.”

“Oh, you’re good. I came here by myself. My friends were supposed to help me get something, but they all...got busy.” You roll your eyes.

Hoseok returns to his station and continues organizing his area once more, but raises his voice so it carries to you. “That sucks. I’ve had stuff like that happen a few times.”

When you don’t immediately respond, he figures you’re busy changing. Almost instantly his thoughts gravitate towards your swimsuit choice, wondering what you picked out. Are you a fan of string bikinis or athletic cuts? His ears subconsciously strain for the rustling of clothes before he cuts the wandering thoughts short. He leaves to go get some extra work from his supervisor and give you privacy.

In the changing room, you’re having a bit of trouble. The first suit is nearly on, but won’t zip past your bust like it's supposed to. You underestimate your strength as you try to force the zipper up and end up ripping the tab off the little sliding bit. You let out a quiet curse before resolving to buy the suit since you broke it. Perhaps it was your fault for thinking you could fit into a size you normally never wear, though it looked like it would fit you when you draped it over your torso earlier. Unfortunately for you, there weren’t any larger sizes either.

Pulling the tag hanging off the side of the suit, you check the price curiously only to find that the suit bandeau is heinously expensive on its own. You have no idea how much the bottoms cost, but you’re fairly certain they’re sold separately. You panic at the thought of having to pay so much for the suit and fumble with the sliding body of the zipper again, trying to get the top off of you, but it won’t budge.

“Hello?” Your voice rings out with uncertainty. You’d heard footsteps leaving the fitting room area earlier, but you didn’t hear them return.

When you get only silence as a reply, you open the door to your changing stall and poke your head out. You’re about to tip toe out to hopefully flag down one of the women working in the front of the store when Hoseok walks back into the fitting room area. He’s busy with whatever is on his phone and doesn’t seem to see you at first. You curse to yourself, hoping he doesn’t see you. To keep an eye on him, you start to walk backwards towards your changing room, but your bare feet squeak loudly against the polished wooden floor.

He looks toward you in that moment to chase the sound. His hand holding his phone drops and eyes linger on your form for longer than could be considered merely professional appraisal and his head turns quickly once he realizes this. Inside his chest, his heart is flutters at the after image of you behind his eyelids. You look good. Really good. While he might think a broken zipper would ruin the look, the fact that the bandeau is only half zipped and straining to contain your breasts makes you look like a classic pinup.

It takes a conscious effort to stray from mentally retracing the path that your curves made in the suit. The voluptuous flare of your hips and shapely legs both grab his attention even more than the bright candy apple red fabric of the suit. He turns abruptly, about to act as though he’s needed in the stock room when your voice sounds out, embarrassed.

“Hoseok?”

“Yeah?” His voice cracks a little, suddenly flustered, and he covers it best he can with a low cough. “What’s up?”

“I’m really sorry but,” you avert your eyes as you walk forward. “I think I broke this suit.”

“Huh?” Your exposed skin looks soft in the gentle lighting of the hallway, and somehow the sight of it is loud enough to muffle your confession. “You broke something?”

“It’s the zipper on the top. I was gonna buy it since I broke it. But the suit is, like, a million dollars. Is there...any chance you can give me a friends and family discount?”

“Oh.” He jumps at the chance to go back to being a helpful professional person again. “That’s okay. I’ll just tell my boss that it broke off in handling. We just put those out today.”

Your eyes go round with hope. “I don’t have to buy it?”

“Nah,” he waves away your offer, eyes now glued to his own shoes. “I got it.”

“Really?” Your face lights up beautifully, relief softening your features. “That’s amazing, thank you.”

He watches for a brief moment while you go back into the changing room. Surprisingly—or perhaps unsurprisingly, with the way his day is going—your ass is amazing, if the way the suit stretches in an almost heart over the cheeks. His throat is suddenly very dry and he nearly downs the entire water bottle he keeps near his station. Hoseok is only allowed a few moments of silence to recover.

“Hey, um, do you...do you think you could come here?”

Faltering in his steps, he walks back down the hallway with a rising sense of suspicion. He’s not sure what will come next, but he knows deep in his gut it’ll be odd and possibly enough to get him fired. Still, he stands in front of the door with uncertainty roiling in his belly.

“What’s up?”

“Come in,” is all you say in a muted hiss.

His hand is sweating when he turns the knob leading into the changing room. He tries to open it cautiously, give himself enough time to peer in and give you time to cover anything you don’t want him to see. But you merely yank him in by the collar and shut the door quickly before locking it. At his wide-eyed, nervous expression you quickly move to make things less awkward.

“Sorry,” you toss over your shoulder while testing the door knob. “I know this is weird, but I can’t get the suit off. It’s too tight to pull over my head and the zipper won’t budge no matter how hard I pull on it. Can you...help?”

Hoseok can only nod in response with nerves halting his tongue. He approaches you slowly, making sure nothing he’s doing seems threatening. Or overly enthusiastic. You’re pressed against the door with your back to the exit and it doesn’t take long for him to close the distance between you two. You’re careful to keep your breathing light so as not to draw extra attention to your chest despite the fact that Hoseok is now eyeballing it like its a complicated puzzle.

“I think the only way to get it off is to just brute force the zipper,” he says after a while.

“Okay.”

You wet your lips nervously and let out a shaky breath that you pray he’ll ignore.

“You might wanna, um, hold your...” he gestures vaguely at your ample cleavage. “So they don’t fall out if we get the top to open.”

Gingerly you cup your breasts to hold the fabric covering them together like he suggested. Hoseok brushes your fingers when he finally attempts to pull the zipper down for the first time. He mutters a quick apology and tries as best he can not to graze you again with his knuckles as his hand shakes. The other hand is behind his back, tightly fisted in effort to maintain his cool. From your vantage point, you can actually see his hand and the way the veins in his arm flash by looking at the mirror on the changing room wall.

A few more harsh tugs gets the zipper’s sliding body down the chain about halfway, but it’s not enough to get the straps of the suit off your arms.

“Maybe you should use two hands,” you hedge. He nods and holds the sides in one hand and the zipper with the other.

Hoseok lets out a steady breath before pulling the zipper down as hard as he can without ripping the suit. He can maybe fib to his boss about the zipper coming off, but not the top ripping in two. Luckily, the zipper stutters open wide enough for you to be able to slip it off now. The only problem is that you forgot to keep a firm grip on the halves of the top and your breasts almost spill completely out of the top.

You stand there, still holding your top up, and chance a look up at Hoseok. He’s gazing down at your chest but senses your gaze and locks eyes with you then. Something in the air between you changes, shifts, clicks. There’s an electricity that you can practically feel crackling under your skin and you take a step forward without thinking. Hoseok’s eyes fall closed as you approach, lashes fanning out prettily across the apples of his cheeks. Before you can chicken out, you ghost your lips over his slack mouth. It’s only a fleeting moment, but you still feel a jolt of something from the contact that has you letting out a small gasp.

Hoseok leans in to touch his forehead to yours almost as if he’s about to initiate another kiss, but a woman’s voice rings through the changing room area, letting him know that they need him to help his supervisor comb through the main part of the store and reset all the displays. Something about all the normal folders and floor monitors being out on their lunch break.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute. Just trying something on,” he lies.

He peers down at you again with a look that’s more subdued but still smoldering, eyes hooded dreamily, smoothing tingling palms against his work pants. Your cheeks heat up with the intensity of his stare, but you back away. The atmosphere isn’t quite the same after having the tenuous balance disrupted by his coworker. With your back against the door and so much of you still bared to him, you suddenly feel so vulnerable. Part of you is scared because that does something to your insides. Tying them up with excitement.

“I should go,” you sigh as he backs up.

He looks like he wants to say something, but stops himself. He slides back out while you’re collecting your actual clothes. When you finish changing, you shuffle passed Hoseok and purchase the expensive broken bathing suit with a grimace.

A few days later, Hoseok is in the main part of the store replacing some items that were knocked over by a careless customer when a coworker comes over and taps him on the shoulder.

“What’s up, man?”

“There’s a customer here who wants you to start a dressing room for her. She wants a selection of bathing suits, too.”

“Cool,” Hoseok hands the employee the clothes he was dealing with. “She say what size?”

The guy relays the size information to him and with that Hoseok makes his way to the bathing suit section to pick out a variety of styles in the right size. With his arms laden with different pieces, he heads back into the changing room area. It’s empty but that’s not unusual at this day and time. It was the store owner’s idea to make it so there weren’t ever that many employees working a shift at a time to give off a minimalist, unbothered vibe.

“Miss,” he calls out to the customer, looking for a sign of the woman by looking for her feet in the cracks of the stall doors. “I have some pieces for you to try. I’ll be right outside in case you don’t want anything or you want a different color. Or if you want to check out as well. I can ring you up.”

“Thanks,” your voice sounds from behind the final door of the hallway. You push open the door to reveal your face.

Hoseok’s cheeks bloom rosy from behind the tiny mountain of bathing suits he gathered unwittingly for you. A strong wave of deja vu washes over him as he’s taken back to the last time he saw you here. The memory of the (almost) kiss is still fresh in his mind like it was yesterday because, at this point, he’s replayed it in his mind dozens of times. A couple of those replays involved the tissue box and bottle of lotion he keeps by his bed. During those times the moment was stretched out and embellished thanks to his industrious imagination.

“I’ll take some of those,” you say with arms reaching to a portion of the suits. “You said you’d be nearby?”

“Yeah,” he breathes.

“Good.”

Like a doting assistant, Hoseok leans on the wall outside your stall, eyes pitching across all parts of the room to occupy his thoughts and time. His gaze bounces from the opposite end of the hallway where his post is normally, to the other stalls, to the mirror lining the wall adjacent to him. There he sees his reflection as well as a reflection of all the stalls. Small movement in the mirror catches his eye, a quick flash of skin. With a hesitant look back at your stall, he realizes the door is cracked. Just enough for him to catch a glimpse of bare arm. A sliver of the mirror inside, through which he swears he sees you looking back at him.

He whips his head back to stare down the hallway, biting harshly on his tongue when the rustling of clothes stops and the sound of the door’s hinge gives a prolonged creak.

“Hoseok?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you give me that green one you have there and I’ll give this one back to you?”

“Oh,” he blinks. Surprised but relieved at the fact that you didn’t tear him a new one for being a peeping Tom. “S-sure.”

He looks away as best he can while handing you the suit you asked for before waiting patiently for you to remove and return the first one you tried. He wants to say something to you, ask about the other day and why you left so abruptly. Why you bought the suit that he said he would take care of. But all of that gets dashed away when his eyes wander instinctively back to your stall and the door is now half closed at best.

With the door angled like this, he can see your reflection perfectly from where he’s standing. You’d be naked if it weren’t for the delicate pair of underwear you’re wearing to safely try on the suits according to store policy. Hoseok can’t drag his eyes away from the sight of you examining the hunter green string bikini’s intricate tie system before attempting to put it on. The green bottoms lovingly hug the curves of your hips but leave little to the imagination with the way they’re bunched up. You skim your index fingers under the elastic of the bottoms to snap them back into place and cover more of your ass. He mourns the change in the view briefly before migrating up the slope of your bare back up to the loose strings dangling from the bikini top.

“Can you help me with this,” you give him a pout that he can’t say no to.

Suddenly he’s scrambling into the changing stall to put the clothes he was holding down on the small bench inside. He comes up behind you and recalls the intended weaving before deftly knotting the strings together in the right place. The end result is a pretty lattice pattern that contrasts with the simple triangles covering your breasts in the front. You test the support and bounce a little, cupping your chest lightly before letting out a pleased hum at Hoseok’s handiwork.

“What do you think?”

He gulps. “It’s, uh, it’s nice.”

“Just nice?” Your voice comes off as coy. You know you look better than nice, but inside you’re fighting the urge to gnaw at your lip self-consciously.

You knew that you were making a big gamble the moment you decided to request Hoseok as your personal shopper not even an hour ago. But ever since you rushed out of the shop a few days prior, the only thing you could think about was Hoseok. Hoseok and the way he looked at you. The way his palms trembled subtly as he reached for you that other day in the stall. The need was palpable and radiated from him like summer heat off dark concrete. It had been a long time since something like this made your breath hitch, and this was the mere memory alone. The memory itself was simultaneously addicting and not enough. So here you are, acting like you were filming a bad porno so you could chase that fleeting moment from last time. His supervisor wouldn’t be able to get you to back down this time even if she was banging on the stall door.

“I like it,” he mumbles quietly after some time.

“Me too. I’ll take it.” Your eyes meet his in the mirror and you watch his expression carefully. “Help me take it off?”

His mouth drops open just a bit. It’s such a small gesture that you might have missed if every instinct in you wasn’t curled tight with giddy lust. His fingers are feather-light against the skin of  your back as he loosens the binds he just did. All the while his gaze never leaves yours in the mirror. Almost as if he’s trying to communicate with you. You give a miniscule nod and then he’s giving the final tug.

The bikini top slithers down your front into a cool, smooth pile of ribbon at your feet. You’re bare like the other day, but your back is almost proudly straight this time and you fall back against him easily.

His hand comes up to lay on your shoulder. The weight is bureaucratic and safe enough that for a second you’re expecting a rebuff.

“Are you sure you wanna do this here?” The tip of his nose skims gently near your temple. Your breath hitches in anticipation. “Because once you say the word, we’re doing this. And I’m not closing that fucking door. I wanna see you backup all that strutting around you’ve been doing.”

You nod again. A shaky breath leaves you and you reach a hand back to creep up his front, fingers grazing collar and tugging needy. He takes a few steps forward, forcing you to stumble forward as well, before placing both hands on your hips. His hands push into the plush skin exposed there as if to test your solidness. The grip is warm and firm as he pushes your hips out until you have to lean forward and brace both hands on the full-length mirror on the changing room wall for balance.

“I don’t want you looking around all distracted at the door. Only look in the mirror. I want you to watch yourself and watch me with you. Okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh.

With that, he tugs down the bikini bottoms to reveal the underwear you had underneath. While you step out of the swimsuit bottoms and kick them to the side, he slides his hand down the front of your panties. The pads of his fingers part your folds easily with no resistance thanks to the copious amount of arousal already there.

“I’ve been thinking about how the other day would have played out if I never left for two days now,” you explain.

“You been touching yourself to it?”

“Yes,” your breath hitches when he swipes over your clit roughly.

“Me too.”

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck. The sweetness of the gesture contrasts starkly with the obscene wet noises coming from where he plays with your wet center. It's not loud enough to compete with the music playing through the store. And definitely not enough to grab anyone’s if they were seated at Hoseok’s post at the end of the hallway. But you still have to fight the instinct to look back at the half open door of the changing stall to make sure no one will catch you.

“You paying attention?”

Your eyes refocus on the reflection in the mirror and zero in on the way Hoseok’s hand barely fits in your underwear. Still, his middle and ring fingers are obscured by the front of your underwear and all you can really see is the way his hand movements speed up. A second later the tightness of the figure eights he rubs into you registers in your core and the wave of pleasure that hits has your knees buckling slightly. Luckily you’re already holding onto something—the mirror.

The slick noises coming from your center get louder as more arousal leaks onto Hoseok’s rapidly moving fingers. In the mirror, you can see that his brow is furrowed in concentration, or perhaps subtly dialed back lust. Meanwhile, his mouth hangs open slightly in silent, sympathetic moans. He must sense your gaze on his face because he looks up then and locks eyes with you in the mirror.

“It feels good,” you whine out the last syllable when he flirts with your entrance for the first time. Already, you’re clenching around a phantom something, eager for things to speed up.

“That’s good.”

His response sounds nonchalant, but you can feel his hardness nudging against your ass if you push back enough. He’s careful to keep it away from you, though, so he can focus on you. It’s not exactly attention that you’re used to after so many years with your ex, but you welcome it all the same. Hoseok is attentive and competitive in the way that he seeks the things that accidentally draw moans from your parted lips. Soon enough, your arms are shaking from a combination of the effort of holding yourself up against the mirror and your first orgasm’s approach.

Hoseok is now grinding the heel of his other palm into your clit, fingertips pistoning against one spongy area of your walls after seeing the way you had you stuttering and your hands sliding a bit against the glass. The first hand wandered up your torso some time ago. He meandered a path along the soft valley of your stomach before coming to cup your breast. With your arousal still shining dully on his fingers, he tweaks your nipple until it draws up and out. Testing various pressures and grips, he finds a perfect rhythm of rolling and pinching that makes you clench around his other hand. His fingers are elegant and long, but not quite thick enough even in a pair. It drives you slightly crazy and you instinctively push your hips back to grind harder against him, mewling shamelessly.

“Please,” your plea comes out crumpled from in between ragged breaths. “I want you.”

“Hmm?” The sharp curl of Hoseok’s smile appears in the mirror. It matches the mean humor that sneaks in to his cooing tone. “You wanna be full?

You nod, cheeks warming from the begging. “I want your dick.”

“Someone’s greedy,” he pulls his fingers out, marveling at the squelching sound the motion makes. “Don’t want to get off on just fingers, huh? You wanna be stuffed full in the middle of this changing room where anyone could walk in and see you.”

You can only moan in affirmation as Hoseok finally tugs down his own bottoms and kicks them to the side. Your eyes take in his muscled legs, landing appreciatively on the line on his thighs where his tan stops and his shorts must have protected his skin from the sun one day. Hoseok spins the two of you then, while you’re lost in thought about how one of his thighs would feel between yours.

With your back against the wall, Hoseok nods to himself like he’s satisfied with his work and begins laying soft, wet kisses against the skin of your throat. He pulls back only to slowly peel off his work shirt, teasing you with the slow exposure of his equally toned torso. You have a nice view of the way back muscles flex under smooth skin now that he’s facing away from the mirror.

“Watch yourself carefully this time,” he warns you with a hand on your chin to direct your gaze to his momentarily.

When he’s sure you’re watching your reflection obediently, he returns to your breasts. He really does think they’re a work of art. So he recites a soundless sonnet to them, tongue flitting against each twin peak with ardor. Your skin becomes almost blotchy in the heat of your moment. Heeding Hoseok’s words, you take in your appearance.

With a heaving chest and parted lips, you look wanton to say the least. Your eyes are at half mast and fighting against the pleasure Hoseok’s plucking fingers bring. Then you see him reaching down to grasp himself before turning to smirk at the mirror, almost as if he’s giving another audience you weren’t aware of, a show.

There’s not much warning. There’s only the gentle nudge of his knees tapping your already lax ones apart before he’s hitching one of your legs over his slender hips. In his grasp, the head of his erection runs along the length of your center. He’s hot and swollen against you, smearing precum on your folds on his journey to your entrance.

“You’re so wet,” he bites out with the same soft incredulity as a curse. His head pops up so he can pin you with a pleading look, almost like he can’t believe you’re you. “What if someone saw you like this? All spread open and dripping for me.”

“Maybe I—ah—wouldn’t mind.” You watch your own hand come up to thread through the soft hair at the nape of his neck. You tug gently on it like its a lifeline as he lines himself up, excitement bubbling up in your stomach. “Mmh, fuck.”

He takes his time bottoming out to make sure you have time to see your expression evolve as you encounter every ridge and swell of him. The stretch has your eyes rolling back, but you don’t let yourself close them. Instead you take in the way your breasts bounce now that Hoseok has begun pumping into you experimentally. The force of his thrusts causes the walls of the changing stall to rattle loudly and for a fraction of a second you worry someone—a customer or another employee seeking assistance with something—might hear the noise and try to see what the source was.

But then your leg is lifted a bit higher and the angle changes. Suddenly he’s going deeper, stretching you slightly more, all the while your clit is bombarded with the brush of his pelvis with every stroke. The leg you have on the ground shakes from the intense bolt of pleasure and you let out a desperate moan.

“Hoseok, oh my god, I’m—you feel so good,” you do the best you can to keep your voice low.

“I can’t hear you. Louder.”

“I said you feel good.”

“Where?”

“In-inside me. I can feel all of you and I’m so...you stretch me out so good,” you pant out.

“Are you close?” His teeth are gritted with the effort it takes to push back his own oncoming orgasm. “Shit.”

“Yeah, I just need—”

Before you can finish, Hoseok is tapping lightly on your lips, pulling the bottom one from between your teeth. You open up and take his thumb and suck it. Once he’s sure its wet enough, he lingers for a few beats to enjoy the feeling of your tongue lapping at him. Then he’s collecting his hand back with a pop and snakes it down between your two writhing bodies. The effect of his spit-slick finger against your clit while he continues to plow into you is instant. It’s just the thing you needed to really kick things into overdrive. Soon you’re chasing the glorious feeling by bringing him in impossibly closer with two hands on his petite ass and by flexing the thigh you had holding his hips in place. In this position, he’s too constricted to really move in and out, so he adapts and begins a rough, circular grind.

The moans you let out are high and breathy, inappropriately loud, and your eyes dart back to your reflection just in time to see your pornographic expression. Hoseok seems to enjoy it too as he leans in to nuzzle at your forehead before cupping your face in one hand and bringing you in to kiss you sweetly. You’re not sure how he manages to make sweet the amount of tongue he’s using, but it works and you sigh dreamily against his lips.

Your orgasm surges through you again when he surprises you and sucks on your tongue. He pulls back then and watches with awe coloring his face. Or perhaps it's the fluorescents and the light sheen of sweat. Either way, the sight of you has him pulsing inside your already convulsing walls. With quick reflexes, he’s pulling out and replacing his dick with three fingers. He strokes himself—slowly to stay hard but not to bring himself to climax just yet—and watches you come down from your high.

When you’re done, you let your leg flop down from its perch on his hip bone. You’re a little wobbly from holding the pose for so long and you fall to your feet gracelessly, not thinking about how disgusting the floors may be. It’s then that you’re able to really look at Hoseok’s dick for the first time when you’re basically at eye level with it.

“Where do you wanna come?” Your eyes look impossibly large from where he’s standing and for a moment he almost answers ‘your face’ before your cleavage grabs his attention.

He mumbles then, ducking his head as his cheeks flush prettily.

“What?”

“...On your tits,” he gulps, not sure of your response.

You merely cross your arms under your breasts to lift them. A disbelieving little laugh leaves him before he’s kneeling down in front of you. The angle is a little awkward, but it’s better than it was when he was standing. He reaches out then and rubs fondly at the area where your shoulder and neck meet with one hand while pumping himself with the other.

It doesn’t take long. Hoseok’s been rock hard since he realized the changing room door wasn’t closed and the fact that you just agreed to let him come on your boobs almost made him swallow his tongue. They’re really something, he thinks to himself. They look soft and he knows if he stuck his face in between them, they’d smell good too if your perfume from the other day when you walked by him is any indication. They’re the perfect size, too. His hips stutter in their rhythm as he thinks about all the other things he could be doing to them. He could be fucking them while you hold them for him. Or, If you let him, he’d spend hours just lapping at them until they were sensitive enough to have you squealing under him. He bites down on his tongue and speeds up his strokes while imagining nipping at you, sucking bruises into the warm skin of your chest.

“I’m—now,” he chokes out before spilling over your breasts. His eyes closed momentarily when the high first hit him, but he opens them quickly enough to see one of the last spurts shoot out and paint a nipple white. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

He collapses into his own pile of exhausted limbs in front of you and grabs at the boxers he was wearing earlier. Like a switch has been flipped, the environment changes. It’s not exactly awkward but everything feels fragile and tentative all of the sudden.

Leaning forward, his wipes the remnants of his release off your chest. The two of you make shy eye contact a few times while he’s in your personal space. He hesitates a bit before leaning closer to slot his lips over yours. The kiss is heated, but not overly passionate. A simmer. Soon he’s wiping his hands before tossing away the soiled underwear and gingerly cupping your face in both his warm hands. He kisses you so thoroughly, so well that you end up unconsciously chasing his lips once he pulls away.

“Good?” He chuckles when you finally open your eyes. You’re not sure when you closed them.

“It was alright,” you sniff. “But I think you might have to do that again some time, ‘cause I’m not 100% sure.” He grins and swipes a thumb over your cheek.

“Name a time and a place and I’m there.”

“What about Saturday at 2,” you blurt out.

“Oh, uh, that’s very specific—”

“Sorry! I’ve been meaning to ask you if you wanted to go to this...thing with me. It’s a party at my ex’s house and I thought it might be less painful if,” you trail off, suddenly embarrassed at your speediness. You don’t even know if Hoseok wants anything more than hookups and here you are asking him to be your plus one to a pool party.

“It’s specific, but I’m free. Should I bring my swimsuit?” Your answering smile is infectious and he can’t help but kiss at it briefly.

“Of course. I’m bringing mine,” you mumble between his lips. “I gotta pay for it first.”

“You’re really wearing the green one?”

“Yeah. It’s my color and it makes my boobs look nice.”

“True,” he nods seriously. “Come on. Let’s get dressed and I’ll ring you up.”

While you’re clothed and at the register, you fight to ignore the knowing stares of a few of the other people working on the floor. Hoseok seems unphased by their looks and actually seems to be glowing. He hums and smiles to himself while carefully folding and wrapping your bathing suit in some tissue paper. When he turns the little monitor around for your to pay with your card, he’s still humming to himself.

“I get off for the day in half and hour,” he blurts out while you sign for the bathing suit.

“Is that so,” you humor him and raise an intrigued looking eyebrow.

“Yeah, so, uh...” The girl who’s behind the counter with Hoseok and had been collecting hangers snorts to herself at Hoseok’s sudden shy disposition. “If you’re gonna be around, I can show you the best place to eat in the food court. If you’re hungry, I mean.”

You pretend to mull it over while putting your card back in your wallet. “Alright. But I don’t eat mall pizza.”

“Hoseok,” you hiss as he presses himself against your backside while you search your ex’s kitchen for more plastic cups. “Someone will see us.”

“I don’t care,” he grinds against you, displacing your bottoms enough to expose the entire left globe of your ass. “I hope someone does. I hope he does.”

You turn around then, hoping to disrupt his fun, but he just brings both his hands to cup your breasts. The little green triangles do little to protect your modesty and, if anything, made his hands itch even more to touch you. He squeezes them in his hands, and when you don’t say anything, he pushes the material up and over them. Like he expected, your nipples are hard and have been since he started eye-fucking you earlier from across the pool.

“You’re insane,” you gasp. Partly because you’re functionally topless when any one of the partygoers, including your friends, could come around the corner in search of ice. And partly because Hoseok has latched onto one of your breasts and is now suckling at one nipple. “It’s like you—oh—want to get caught.”

He pulls off just long enough to speak. “Why should I care if anyone sees me making you feel good.”

“You know, in hindsight, I should have realized you have a thing about public sex.”

“You really should have. I gave you all the signs.” He has enough manners to shift so he’s covering you should anyone walk into the kitchen. His hand slides into your bathing suit bottoms, fingers immediately getting coated with your slick. “But it feels like you might be a little exhibitionist yourself.”

The sound of Monica and Irene laughing in the next room has your whole body tensing up with nerves, but it also has you sucking his fingers deeper into your center. Footsteps of more people who probably want a break from the sun enter the room, some sounding dangerously close.

“Oh god,” your head falls forward onto his shoulder as the wet sounds of your pussy get louder as he massages your clit. “Hoseok, we’re gonna get kicked out.”

“Not if you’re quiet.” He starts kissing your cheek, making a path to your mouth. “I’ll take care of you, baby.”

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