>You are Anon, and you are in your bedroom at your desk.
>Your biology textbook is open, and you're just finishing up your homework.
>You're in your senior year in high school, alongside your twin sister, Gilda.
>Even though you were born on the same day, you couldn't be more different.
>You've always been quiet, but Gilda's always been outgoing and loud.
>And frankly, kind of an asshole.
>You don't even hang out much together when you're not in the house, so most people don't even know you're siblings.
>Fine by you; you don't need people getting revenge on you for shit your sister did to them.
>Knock knock knock
>"Hey. Hey, Anon."
>Oh, christ, it's Gilda.
>Maybe if you stay quiet, she'll think you're asleep.
>"I'm respecting your privacy by coming in any-wait, shit. No, I'm respecting your privacy by knocking, but... aww, fuck it. I'm coming in, dweeb!"
>FUCK.
>The doorknob twists and the door swings open behind you.
>Gilda strolls into your room like she owns the place, expertly side-stepping a pile of dirty laundry on the floor.
>"I need help with calculus, Anon, and you said you'd start tutoring me if I agreed to stop toughening you up."
>Is THAT what she calls fucking bullying you at school?
>You let out a sigh and spin your chair around and take in the form of your sister, who is wearing her usual attire.
>She's got her dumb ripped jeans (so that everyone knows how tough she is), she's got YOUR Ghostbusters hoodie on.
"Listen, Gil. I don't-"
>...the fuck?
>Gilda takes a step back and starts to fiddle with the zipper on your - YOUR - hoodie.
>Which she is wearing - she stole it without asking you, and now she wears it whenever she wants to piss you off.
>But you aren't paying attention to that part.
>Because she's slooowly pulling the zipper down in a decidedly erotic fashion.
>"Buuut," she coos, "You blew me off even after I stopped being a good sister for you-"
"You seriously call shoving me into a locker, 'being a good sis-' "
>"Shut the fuck up!" she barks, her soft expression sharpening for just a moment, "I SAID, you never tutored me as per our agreement, and I really need that C+ in calc. So... I figured that you're a growing boy, and you need some proper motivation to help your big sis."
>You're paralyzed there in your chair, watching with equal parts trepidation and a confusing sense of desire as the head of the zipper goes lower and lower.
>More and more creamy white cleavage is revealed.
>Your sister's breasts press and strain against against the fabric of your hoodie.
>You can't look away.
>What the fuck is wrong with your sister?
>What the fuck is wrong with YOU, for that matter?
>Why is she doing this?
>You don't understa-
>"Hah!"
>After slowly pulling the head down about a third of the way down her front, she quickly yanks it down the rest of the way.
>Your heart skips a beat, and then you realize what you're seeing.

>She has a fucking tank top on underneath it that she had pulled down extra low to give the illusion of being topless underneath YOUR FUCKING HOODIE GOD DAMNIT
>With a cackle, she whips the hoodie off and tosses it at your face.
>Without another word - because cackling is not a word - she plonks herself down next to you on your bed and slams her book onto the surface.
>"No, but seriously," she says, still giggling, "Gimme a hand. This derivative bullshit is confusing."
>You sigh and fish out your calc textbook.
>"And I had better not find another crusty sock here on your bed, you dweeb. That shit's nasty."
"I don't jerk off into socks."
>"Anymore."
"Yeah, because you keep stealing my fucking laundry."
>She's so grossed out by the occasional sock she finds - which, to be fair, you don't have time to hide because fuck you if she keeps bursting into your room whenever she feels like it - that she throws them the fuck out.
>Like an ASSHOLE.
>Man, if she didn't beat the shit out of any bully who dared to pick on you, you wouldn't even put up with your sister's bullshit.
---
>An hour later, Gilda slams her book shut and stands up.
>She yawns and stretches, planting her hands on the small of her back and leaning back; you hear a few muffled pops coming from her spine.
>"Welp!" she sighs, "I think I get it now!"
>Before you can so much as utter a "get the fuck out of my bedroom, and stop stealing my goddamn clothes", Gilda swoops down with almost falcon-like speed.
>She grabs the side of your head and pulls you towards her, planting a kiss on your cheek.
>It's over as soon as it started, and she's walking out your bedroom door before you can even react.
>"Thanks a lot, dweeb."
>SLAM
>You stare at your door, not sure what to feel.
>She's NEVER been anywhere near that affectionate in the past.
>She's never fucking strip-teased you before - that's new, let me tell you - and she's never so much as hugged you, let alone given you a kiss on the cheek.
>Is she sick?
>Are YOU sick?
>Oh god, is one of you DYING?!
>You stare at the door for a long time, and then pick up your sweater.
>...
>It smells like Gilda.
>Something falls out of the pocket; some sort of stiff cloth tube.
>The fuck is-
"Is that my sock?"