#I'll probably be too curious not to watch this when I can without paying money for it

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

The upcoming Lion King prequel hurts me personally

I really want to consistently keep this a Yugioh blog, since Yugioh is so expansive and ongoing and it’s what pretty much everyone who’s following me is here to see at this point...

But to be honest, I don’t know where else to talk about this. So... here goes nothing. The original 1994 Lion King is the single most influential movie on my life.

It was my absolute favourite movie from a very young age and for many years after. There are movies I prefer now but the influence this movie had on my life cannot be understated.

(Rant continued under the cut so I don’t flood people’s dash)

The direct to DVD sequel, Simba’s Pride, (which is actually pretty good!) is the earliest birthday gift I remember asking for, I watched it and the original over and over again, I basically watched every single Lion King related piece of media I could get my hands on (never got around to the Broadway unfortunately), including the Lion King 1 and a half, the Timon and Pumbaa show and eventually The Lion Guard, despite me being much older when that show came out. Hell, my very first crush, like ever not just fictional, was a character in this movie. (I was like 7 at the time, give me a break.) This thing was basically my first fandom.

I remember as far back as when I first got a phone with access to the Internet, I mainly watched videos about The Lion King. And among those now ancient ass videos, my favourites were videos about the lost character Kopa and more relevant to what I’m going to talk about, fan theories about Scar’s backstory. These videos, or the ones I saw when I was younger at least, were essentially numerous pieces of fanart telling the story in order, either set to music or narration explaining the respective person’s take on the story in more detail. Some of these art pieces were used so often in these videos, I still recognise them to this day. The story of these once close brothers drifting apart due to bitter rivalry spurred on by the preferential treatment given to the one who would be king was one that really fascinated this fandom, myself included. These and the Kopa videos were basically my introduction to the concept of fanfiction, which I now currently write as a hobby (for other fandoms, but still!) and am very passionate about. I still find the potential of a Scar and Mufasa backstory really fascinating but what I really wanted, more than anything, for so much of my life, was a version of this story on the big screen.

That is... until it was actually announced...

*long sigh*

I’ll be honest. Before the announcement of this prequel, the one piece of Lion King media I never intended to watch, was the CGI remake. I’m still insulted by the very notion of Disney remaking one of their most perfect timeless films, one completely comprised of talking animals, in stiff lifeless CGI and trying to pass it off as “live action.” When I talk about this movie, I call it “the Lion King remake” or “Lion King 2019.” Calling it “live action” is an insult to the animators who worked tirelessly to make it, and is an insult to the whole medium of animation. So I never bothered to watch it. And again, this is coming from the guy who watched THE LION GUARD, a Disney Junior show about the second son of Simba using his magical religion roar to fight the evil ghost of Scar in a volcano. I was willing to watch THAT, and even enjoyed most of it, and not Disney’s sham of a remake. That is how low the bar is.

It wasn’t until this prequel’s announcement, and watching YMS’s amazing video on it, that I decided to watch the remake and... yup. It is the worst piece of Lion King media ever conceived. They completely ruined the music, sucked all the character and emotion out of every single frame, and even massively fucked up the writing despite this supposedly being a shot for shot remake of the original movie. Again, YMS has a great video covering this in more detail, I pretty much agree with every one of his points. He’s only covered up to Mufasa’s hilarious butchered death so far but I have faith he’ll do a good job tearing the rest of it to shreds.

And it’s this piece of garbage that Disney is making a prequel of. This story I’ve wanted to see my entire life, and they’re going to tell it in the most flat lifeless animation in the world. How are they expecting that to work? The animation of TLK 2019 is so expressionless and stiff that it’s impossible to tell what’s going on moment to moment without the context of said moment from the original film. This prequel doesn’t have a well known movie it’s adapting. As far as mainstream media is concerned, Scar and Mufasa’s backstory has never been told in any official way. Sure, there’s the picture book where he was scraped by a buffalo in a stempede, countless fanworks where his dad scratched the fuck out of him in an an act of abuse, Lion Guard where he becomes evil after getting the scar from a venomous snake.

THAT IS REAL. I DID NOT JUST MAKE THAT UP:

Again, I unironically consider THIS better than the Lion King remake. (The song slaps ngl.) But anyways, the prequel definitely isn’t going to do any of these things. In fact, the 2019 movie kind of implies Scar got his scar from challenging Mufasa for the throne. Okay, that’s a decent idea but idea is nothing, execution is everything. And the execution of the 2019TLK, with its complete lack of facial expression, emotion in the performances, or anything to get the audience invested outside of nostalgia, how can they possibly think they’ll be able to grip anyone by doing more of the same only this time without the exact outline of a story millions of people are already invested in? Normies won’t give a shit and us more dedicated fans already have other versions of this story we prefer. 

Honestly, I don’t think even fans of 2019 movie are really going to care about the prequel. Because while I’m sure legitimate fans of it exist, the 2019 movie just didn’t stick with people. Sure, it made a shit ton of money but apart from that, it made no impact. No one talks about it anymore, apart from dedicated TLK fans like me and YMS saying how much of a piece of shit it is. As dumb as The Lion Guard could get at times, I’ll always remember it for both the insane dumb shit, and some of the genuine good stuff in it. Scar getting his scar from challenging his brother might be a more logical story but its execution isn’t one I’ll remember. The evil venom snake however? You’re damn right I’m humming that song every time I bring it up here, that shit slapped for real.

So basically... the story I’ve dreamed about seeing nearly my entire life, the spark that lit the fire to me becoming passionate about telling my own stories, is finally getting the movie I’ve always wanted and it’s almost definitely going to be a boring lifeless mess and be remembered by no one after it potentially bombs. Great. Love this studio. 😒

[casspurrjoybell-26]

The Contract - Chapter 5

*Warning Adult Content*

- Evan -

Holy fucking shit... I can't believe we just had sex in his office, just like that without a care in the world.

After what felt like hours, we both finished.

I try to stand up straight, but the burning inside of me from where his dick had just been, he's made it near impossible to move or even bend down.

I can't believe I took him up on his offer to have sex with him, I don't know what overcame me.

I bend down for my trousers as Donovan walks back to me with a box of tissues in his hands.

"Stay still, I'll wipe you down," he commands while I embarrassingly comply.

There's no way I can move my legs, or my hands, my whole body feels like I had just been run over by a truck... or fucked by one, so I swallow that nervous feeling of having him close to me again and let him wipe me clean.

He begins wiping his seed off of me and once it's all gone, he hands me my trousers back, which I snatch from his hands.

"Thank you." I say, avoiding his state and bend to put them on, ignoring the burning pain in my ass.

I turn around and hear him sit down on his chair behind his desk and open a drawer.

"I didn't expect you to enjoy it so much," he says, not looking at me but at something in his drawer.

I'm choosing to ignore that he just said that out loud and continue to put my clothes on.

Turning around I see that he found what he was looking for and placed it on the table.

His eyes meet mine and he looks almost amused by my discomfort.

Is it always going to be like this, being with him?

I can't even look him in the eye without being intimidated and now embarrassed by what we just did.

Donovan is acting as if nothing just happened... now I'm curious if he's done this before, with a guy or if I was his first, probably not... but I wonder.

"Now what?" I ask, trying to move away from thinking too much about him, I just want to go home and lay down.

"Now I offer you a Contract here at Desire," he starts, sitting back in his seat, his shirt still unbuttoned, showing his perfect chiseled abs.

He sighs and stares at me.

"I did my research and you'd make a great talent to sign but quite frankly, from that research, I had done of you, I only found out that you're terrible when it comes to money, you have a tendency to spend what you don't have."

"I don't usually do this but a trusted employee of mine will oversee your finances and set a limit to your excessive spending, so you can pay me back for the jobs my company will get you."

A moment of silence falls upon the office as Donovan simply stares at me, looking deep in thought as his cold eyes bore into mine, making me shift uncomfortable on the spot.

"It's simple, Evan," he starts, making my hands begin to sweat nervously. "I sign you at my company, pay off your debts, get you an agent and put you up in a new apartment until you learn how to value money, until then, you will pay me back a sum of what you earn each month. Does that sound fine?"

My heartbeat begins to quicken at the offer and I won't lie, hearing him say it makes coming here seem worth it with him seem all worth it, I never would've dreamt this meeting would go so well and surprisingly... Donovan isn't all that bad people make him out to be.

"And what about... us? How does that work?" I ask, as he simply looks at me emotionless.

"I want a physical relationship with you," he says, watching my reaction like a professional businessman.

I already knew that but what I don't know is how far he wants to take this, does he want to date or does he just simply want to hook up?

He sighs when he sees my expression and sits back in his chair.

"I'm a busy man Mr. Beckett," he starts. "It's quite simple, when I text you to come, it could be once a week, once a month."

"So you basically want me to be your fuck buddy?" I blurt out, without thinking, making my face blush.

His lips twitch as he shakes his head.

"Yes, putting it bluntly," he says. "I will have my lawyer do up a Contract," he adds, making me look at him confused.

"It's simply for safety reasons, I'll also need you to sign a few documents on your way out before you leave."

Figures... Robbie was right, I won't be able to say shit after I leave this office, I will have to sign an NDA.

So what he's saying is, I'm basically going to be his booty call whenever he texts me and all I have to do is show up... and in return, I get... him?

I don't know if I can go through that pain again, it hurt so much and he's much larger than the average guy but on the other hand, having sex with him wasn't that bad.

The thought of Donovan wanting to keep seeing me made me feel strange, he was this wealthy billionaire who could be with anyone, so why did he want to keep seeing me?

I already made up my mind though and when I don't want to have sex with him anymore, I can just walk away... 

I'll be sure to add somewhere in the contract that if I do 'break up' with him, he can't take away my contract with Desire if he wanted to do it out of spite or revenge.

"Okay," I say, my chest beating as my hands begin to sweat. "That sounds good."

"Hand me your phone."

I scrunch my brows in confusion but get my phone from my back pocket anyway and unlock it then hand it to him, his fingers brushing against mine as he takes it.

He begins typing something in and then hands it back to me, then I see he had added his phone number to my phone.

Donovan Steele - Private- 04505 606 152

"It's my personal phone number," he says. "I will only reach you from that number, I expect you to keep it to yourself, I like my privacy just like that, private."

I roll my eyes and then put my phone back into my back pocket.

"Sure, whatever."

Who would I give his number to anyways?

What would be the point?

"When can we go over the contract?" I ask, putting my jacket back on.

He watches me get dressed, his deep gray eyes watching every move I make almost like he's in a trace until his eyes reach mine.

"I'll contact you when it's ready," he simply says.

Standing up, he comes around his desk and stands in front of me, then he reaches out to tidy up my jacket, making me nervous and unsure where to look, when he's done I step back and rub my neck nervously.

Fuck... whenever he's close like that, I get nervous.

He smells so nice, I wonder what he's wearing?

"Uh, cool."

I guess... shit, this is awkward.

"I have an apartment free for you today, so head home and pack your bags," he says. "I'll have someone waiting for you outside your building to escort you there."

A new apartment?

Damn... he worked fast, I felt a little embarrassed he knew everything about me, even the fact I was being evicted, it made me feel like a beggar but he was giving this to me simply because he signed me on as one of his talents, nothing more. I nod my head and shift uncomfortable on the spot, not used to being treated like this before and having things handed to me this easily.

With an aching backside, I trod to his office door in pain while trying my best to walk normally to not humiliate myself anymore in front of this man and make him laugh at me.

I open the door and then look back one last time to see him leaning against his desk as he buttons up his white shirt, with his eyes fixated on mine with a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"See you soon Evan."

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

[amazingmaeve]

The Bet - Draco Malfoy

Harry Potter Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Summary: Draco makes a bet with Pansy and Blaise that he can make Y/N, a shy Hufflepuff, fall in love with him.

Draco Malfoy x Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst and Fluff

AN: Had this idea last night and had to do something with it.

Word Count: 1859

"I bet you can't make someone fall in love with you," Pansy who sat across from Draco and sat next to Blaise says looking at the platinum haired boy.

"I'll take that bet as long as it's not Granger," Draco says with a smirk. He knew that Hermione would probably punch him if he ever tried anything with her.

"Why afraid she'll punch you again," Blaise says looking cockily at Draco who rolled his eyes at his fellow Slytherin.

"Just get on with it tell who and I'll do it," Draco snaps looking at Pansy and Blaise who looked at each other with smirks on their faces.

"I'm gonna regret this," Draco thought as Blaise and Pansy whispered and looked around trying to find a girl that would be a challenge for Draco Malfoy.

Pants shoved Blaises shoulder and pointed in a direction behind Draco. Once Blaise saw the girl he had a smirk on his face as Draco looked at the two confused.

"Her," Pansy pointed to Y/N who was reading a book and looked like she was in her own world.

Draco looked behind him and saw Hufflepuff he hasn't noticed before.

"Who is that even," Draco asked turning back to his friends who shrugged.

"No idea," Pansy shrugged. "Now you have to make her fall in love with you in a month or you owe me 15 galleons."

Blaise coughed as Pansy rolled her eyes at him "15 each."

Draco thought about it for a minute his father would be furious if he took the money, but his pride got in the way.

"Deal."

For the next few days Draco watched Y/N. He finally learned her name. He saw that she was a quiet Hufflepuff who barely had any friends.

How he had to think about how to introduce himself to her. He still had most of the month left but he had to think class.

As they were in Slughorns class Draco kept thinking about how to get to her as Y/N was listening to the lesson her professor was teaching.

Y/N usually paid attention in class as she loved the stuff.

People thought she should of been in Ravenclaw but what she thought she got in Hufflepuff is her shyness. 

"Ok now for the next assignment we'll be doing partner work," Slughorn announced to the class.

Most people cheered but Y/N groaned internally since she hated talking to people.

"But I will be choosing your partners," He continued. Draco was now partially listening to the teacher as he heard the groan which mean partner work.

"Ok I'll start listing off the partners," Slughorn got the papers out and started listing out names.

Y/N's heart beat as she thought who she was going to get. She hated this stuff about school since she hated.

"Draco and Y/N," As the two people mentioned snapped their heads up in surprise different thoughts running through each other's brains.

Draco thought this was the perfect  thing to make her fall in love with him.

While Y/N was kind of worried she heard about all the stuff Draco Malfoy has done and his family as well.

As everyone got with their partners Y/N stayed looking at the ingredients for the potions getting ready to make it. She was worried about partnering up with Draco since his reputation was known.

As he sat next to her Y/N kept her face in the book while Draco tried to get a good look at her.

"Hey beautiful," Draco was the first person to say something. He thought it looked cute on her as she blushed at the nickname.

No stop thinking like that it's a bet.

"So what do we need to get started," He asked as she didn't say hey back.

"I'll get the stuff," Y/N whispered as her heart hammered in her chest. Before Draco could say anything she got up to get everything.

Draco scoffed as he watched her run off. He'll have to think of something else to do.

As Y/N sat down and put the ingredients on the table.

"So were you listening cause I certainly was not," Draco stated staring at the beautiful Hufflepuff.

"Yes," Y/N nodded giving him a smile.

"That's a relief," Draco sighed fiddling with his fingers.

"You don't listen," Y/N asked curiously as she put the ingredients in the cauldron.

"No was to busy thinking about a certain Hufflepuff," Draco flirted with a smirk on his face.

"Oh," Y/N blushed looking in the cauldron. Y/N thought he was cute so that's why she felt so flustered around him.

As the class went on Draco kept talking to her and Y/N kept blushing as butterflies were in her stomach.

"Meet me in the library tonight at 6," Draco said giving her a smile before leaving.

Y/N didn't know she should meet him. Maybe he wanted to work on the project or he wanted help in some other class.

Y/N decided to go because also would have been guilt standing him up.

"See you showed up," Y/N jumped as Draco said sitting next to her. She was to engrossed into her book.

"Yes I didn't want to stand you up," Y/N says quietly looking at her lap.

"That's sweet of you," Draco looked at her really looked at her.

He thought that she was the most beautiful girl in the word and even thought they just met today. Draco could feel his heart race.

"Thanks," Y/N smiled at him which made his stomach turn in a good way. "Uh why did you want me here anyways."

"Well I wanted to spend some more time with you darling," Draco teased her as he smirked at the girl who blushed at the nickname.

"Oh," Y/N says surprised.

"Oh why," He was curious of why she was so surprised.

“I just don't have much guys wanting to spend time with me," Y/N smiled at him maybe someone did like her.

Draco started to feel bad for leading her on but quickly got the thought out of his head as he stared into her eyes.

"Well I'm glad to be the first love,” Draco put his hand on hers giving it a squeeze.

They sat there for another hour talking about each other's interest. Draco was very fascinated about this girl.

For the next week the two were glued to each other's hips. Blaise and Pansy took note of this and decided to tease Draco about him.

"Is someone catching feelings," Pansy asked sarcastically.

"It's none of your business and for your information no I am not Draco snapped at the girl and got up walking away from his friends.

A couple weeks later Draco and Y/N got closer and Draco kept flirting with her which made Y/N feel giddy.

Draco invited her to his dorm where they could work on homework together.

As Y/N sat on Draco's bed she looked around and noticed how clean it was.

"Surprised love," Draco sat next to her getting his book out. He didn't really want to study but as long as it was with her it was fine.

Draco in the past 3 weeks has caught feelings for the girl who captured his heart. His stomach would have butterflies every time the talked and every time she smiled at him.

“So let’s get started,” Y/N stated with a smile.

As she continued talking Draco got lost in the way she spoke and a smile on the corner of her lips. Draco wouldn’t admit it but he was smitten.

“Draco are you even listening,” Y/N asked with a smile looking at the boy who snapped out of his daze.

“You are so beautiful,” Draco whispered ignoring Y/N. She let out a blush.

He put his hand on her cheek and felt the heat from the blush. He put his lips on hers and he knew it was her first time.

He knew this since she tried to copy his movements and Draco didn’t mind. Draco was glad to be her first kiss.

“I think I’m falling love with you,” Draco whispered against her lips.

Y/N stared up at him flabbergasted soon turned into a sheepish look.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

In the next few days Draco took her out on the first day she’s ever been on and it was amazing. Draco treated her like a princess.

“I’m done I don’t want to do this bet anymore,” Draco snapped at Blaise and Pansy.

“You can’t just do that,” Pansy hissed.

“Pansy it was just a bet,” Blaise defended Draco.

“No,” Pansy snapped.

“I’m sorry Pansy I’ll pay you back but I’m done I don’t want her to think I’m only doing this for a bet when it’s done,” Draco snapped not noticing the Hufflepuff who walked up to him and had a shocked expression on her face as she heard Draco’s word.

“It was just a bet,” Draco heard Y/N behind her. Draco closed his eyes feeling annoyed with him self.

“Love,” Draco turned around and saw the sad expression on her face and tears coming in the corner of her eyes. He felt so guilty. She looked so sad.

Before he could say anything else she ran out going to her dorm room with tears running down her cheeks.

“Damnit,” Draco cursed himself ignoring Blaise and Pansy running after Y/N knowing she was going to her room.

He ran into the Hufflepuff common and thank god no one was in there. He ran up the stairs to her room where she was crying on her bed.

“Y/N/N,” Draco says cautiously.

“Go away,” Y/N cried into her pillow making her words muffled.

“Please love let me explain,” Draco raced his words out as he ran to her bed sitting next to where her body laid.

When Y/N didn’t say anything he continued.

“It did start out as a bet but as I got to know you I felt myself fall more in love with you,” Draco started to explain. “I started to feel guilty so that’s why I broke the bet off so I could be with you without it being a bet,” Draco lets out a tear.

“So it wasn’t just a lie,” Y/N asked sniffling as she sat up next to him. Her eyes were all black from the mascara.

“No it wasn’t just a lie,” Draco says wiping the tears away.

“One more chance and if you ruin it I’m done,” Y/N says sternly.

Draco nodded while saying “Of course anything love.”

Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist burying her face in his chest while his head rested on the top of her head.

He was happy that she forgave him because right now she was the only good thing in his life. And he knew he would never doing anything wrong again because he love her so much.

Even after a month.

[seacottons]

— uni with atz pt. two

notes: swearing, fluff, mildly suggestive dialogue. tags: @latte-fairytaekwoon

seonghwa — [ early edu. + developmental psych. ]

extremely organized in all aspects of his life

your bookshelf at home consists of books on developmental studies in children.

if he isn't in class or volunteering, he's either cuddling with you or reading.

stressed 24/7.

takes very pretty and neat notes.

randomly spits out facts throughout the day.

sometimes, you join him during his volunteer hours at various daycares and schools.

is all the children's favorite teacher.

extremely patient and soft-spoken when it comes to working with even the most difficult child.

also loves being called 'teacher hwa'.

"i don't know, if i were you, i would make the students call me king san."

"they'll probably end up bullying you," seonghwa replies back.

you don't know how he has the patience for the amount of children he has to take care of.

takes you picture-book shopping with him for his students.

finds himself singing nursery rhymes while cooking or cleaning.

has polaroids of you two stuck on the fridge.

brings lint rollers to work.

gets worked up in public if a parent seems too neglectful in any way.

"y/n!" he tugs at your elbow and points with his jaw to the right, "look! his kid is just spilled all that paint on the floor, and he didn't even bat an eyelash!?"

"don't intervene again, please."

"okay, but-"

the whining of metal and steel cut him off, and the two of you jump in fright at the sound of a shelf falling apart.

"some people really shouldn't have kids."

whines when he comes back home that the paint stain and glitter just won't come off his clothes no matter how many times he rubs the spots with warm water.

or how he has mulch stuck in his socks and shoes from taking the kids outdoors to play.

you somehow always end up finding a googly eye or specks of glitter under the couch.

sometimes brings home finger-paintings with numerous colorful hearts and two stick figures in the middle.

"today's assignment was to paint what makes you happy."

you also help him stitch up little felt and cotton dolls for the kids to keep.

often gets sick from working with children.

and passes it onto you by accident.

you know he's had a bad day when you ask him how it went, and his face scrunches up in pain.

stormed into your shared apartment one day and made a beeline to the bathroom.

forty minutes later, he comes out, towel wrapped around his hips, face and chest flushed, and explains that a child accidentally peed on him.

gets flustered when you laugh at his demise.

sometimes uses his teacher voice when scolding you or your mutual friends.

and you all end up teasing him more anyway.

"do you use that tone in bed too, hwa?" yeosang asks one day. mingi and yunho splutter out in disbelief, followed by loud laughter.

you choked on your bite of cake at the sudden remark.

"what did i ever do to deserve this slander," seonghwa grumbles whilst patting your back.

he often stays up late making lesson plans for both his classes and ones to implement at work as well.

takes full advantage of his teacher's discount at shops and restaurants.

sometimes brags about it to his friends to get under their skin.

"you have it easy. just watching kids and getting free food," san says one day in the middle of their game of jenga.

"it's not easy at all," you hear seonghwa reprimand the younger, and laughter rings out from the other four guests.

"you're learning about children! what's so hard-"

you had a hunch that seonghwa purposely tilted the wooden tower to tumble over an unsuspecting san.

"y/n! your boyfriend is trying to murder me!"

seonghwa paces in circles around your apartment whilst studying for an upcoming exam.

asks you to quiz him on certain materials.

"correct! okay, can you define the preoperational stag-"

"how many kids do you want to have in the future?"

"..what?"

"kids. how many do you want to have with me?" he presses further, eyes trained on your face rather intently.

"can't this conversation wait until you finish studying?"

"no. i'm too curious," he licks at his chapped lips and leans in to poke your forehead, "i need to know. this is important information. please."

yeosang — [ biology pre-med ]

met you through your mutual friend, wooyoung, who invited him to live in your shared dorm.

"you didn't tell me you have a dog?" yeosang turns to wooyoung, brow quirked up whilst pointing to the 'beware of dog' sign on one of the bedroom doors.

"oh, i don't. i just put that up to mess with y/n," wooyoung dismissively explained while making a sandwich.

is the reason why you and wooyoung haven't killed each other yet.

asked you out after five months of moving with you and wooyoung.

designated one of the kitchen's shelves as a medical supply closet.

"because wooyoung always ends up hurting himself without doing anything."

"i do not."

stress is his middle name.

constantly contemplates his life decisions.

"wooyoung! shut up! i can't finish my essay with you blabbering every damn second!"

you had to get used to the sight of a full sized anatomical skeleton in his room.

"okay, but i'm not letting you fuck me with that thing in here."

later that night, wooyoung's heart nearly burst in his chest from fright.

"yeosang! why the fuck is your skeleton in my room!?"

some nights, during dinner, yeosang slams his obnoxiously large textbooks onto the table, and insists for the two of you to quiet down while he skims over the pages a few times.

"can't you just enjoy your meal for five-"

"no. now hush."

not only does he have labs, presentations, and essays to worry about, but he also got accepted for a pre-med internship at a local hospital.

hardly goes out anymore during his free time.

most dates include cuddling on the couch or baking something in the kitchen.

stays up late at night to complete assignments.

towers of thick books decorate his nightstand.

"no, yeosang. i really don't want to see you dissecting a cat," you grimace, turning quickly and shielding your eyes from his phone.

"why not?" yeosang whines softly, hand tugging the hem of your shirt with a frown, "it's not that bad, i promise-"

he's cut off when wooyoung snatches the phone from him with a loud cry, "gross! y/n, you're letting him touch you after he touched that?! and fuck- what is that smell?"

"that's formaldehyde. now give me back my phone before i dissect you next."

you join him at the lab when he has extra work piled up.

"you look so cute with a white coat and goggles."

you prod and poke him repeatedly, asking him numerous questions about the specimens in the lab.

"y/n! don't touch that!"

one day, wooyoung comes home sick.

you insist on taking him to see a doctor, only for him to emit a haughty laugh at you.

"why would i waste my time and money when i have yeosang here?"

"but woo, he didn't even get into med-school yet-"

wooyoung insists he doesn't need to see a professional, "yeosang is practically our live-in doctor! why do you think i begged him to move in?"

you roll your eyes, calling for yeosang to persuade the younger male.

"alright, tell me your symptoms," your boyfriend sighs, plopping down onto the couch beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

after wooyoung explains everything and takes his own temperature, he peers at yeosang for an answer, "well?"

"you're dying," yeosang nods simply.

wooyoung's visage pales, and he scrambles to sit up on the couch with a disturbed expression.

"what?"

yeosang is always studying.

always.

studying.

you insist for him to take a break sometimes.

"i can't. i have lab tomorrow. oh, and a paper."

"but you always say that!"

you attempt to tug him out of his seat.

"come on! just for an hour, and we'll be back. promise."

he's always reluctant at first, but finds himself agreeing later anyway.

enjoys the small dates at the nearby lake probably more than you do.

mingi — [ accounting ]

a gifted genius when it comes to numbers.

is your very own math tutor.

jokingly asks you to pay him back.

he accepts kisses and hugs. baked pastries are also a bonus.

"y/n? are you okay?" a hand waves in front of your face.

you blink at him wordlessly, mind fogged from the bombardment of information you just received, "sorry- you lost me. can you repeat the process again?"

he playfully smacks your shoulder with the ruler and stomps his bare feet onto the tiled floor, "this is the third time!"

"i'm sorry! you know how i am with math!"

he begs you to take classes with him as electives.

"sorry, baby. i love you, but there's no way i'll ever take statistics."

"okay, what about economics?"

"no."

"management? business administration!?"

"no and no."

"but y/n! it'll be fun! you'll be with me!"

always whines about how much he hates having to take 'stupid management classes' and the group projects that come along with them.

"they never take the assignments seriously!"

said group visits your apartment to work on projects with mingi.

"aren't you supposed to be working on that project?"

you watch as mingi and his friends suddenly erupt in an explosive argument about the game they were currently playing.

"yeosang! what the fuck!?"

"it's y/n's fault mingi was distracted!"

you let out an indignant squawk and glare at yeosang.

"that round didn't count."

"stop being a sore loser, san!"

"so.. i take it you didn't even start?" you grimace, peering over to the untouched books and papers on the coffee table.

"it's just management class. no big deal," san explains quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand before nudging your boyfriend with a glare, "you better not make us lose this time, or i'll kidnap y/n."

stays up late to finish other work that's due.

loves to wear big spectacles when studying.

it 'helps him focus'.

writes notes on his calculator and slides it towards you while you're both home studying.

'n-3^07-!'

"mingi, what is that?"

"read it upside down, you bum."

has a coffee mug with 'i love π' in big, bold, red letters.

refuses to throw it away even though the rim is chipped.

always bugs you about how you should have a budget plan.

insists on teaching you how to make spreadsheets on excel.

"i can't do this, mingi. too much numbers give me a headache."

"do you want my lucky glasses?"

rambles on about things related to his field, and you can only nod in confusion every time.

"how does your brain keep up with all of this?"

"easy. just be one with the numbers."

"that was a bad pun.."

"you're supposed to laugh!"

mingi was that typical student who complained about studying, but is always the one acing everything with the highest score.

"i should just quit university and become a stripper."

"you say that every exam week, and yet, you always pass with the highest grades," you mumble from the other side of the couch, absentmindedly highlighting a few sentences in your book.

"yeah, but studying is a pain in the ass," he exhaled with a loud groan, head thrown back against the back of the couch, "why me, y/n?"

you roll your eyes while reaching over to pat the side of his face in comfort.

"everything will work out just fine."

later that week, he joyfully bounces into your apartment with a large grin plastered on his face, "guess what?"

you snort in amusement.

"let me take a wild guess. you aced your exam."

"and guess who has the highest score?" he tugged you forward by your cheeks with a bright grin.

"yeosang?" the cheery expression on his features suddenly vanished, causing you to laugh, "i'm kidding."

likes to study while attached to your side, wearing comfortable pajamas and warm socks.

sulks whenever his stock investments drop further than he expects.

and is always in a good mood whenever the prices spike back up.

always has a horrible math pun up his sleeve.

sends you accounting memes and becomes a gloomy mess when you don't laugh or understand the joke.

"what if i propose to you with a math problem? and we have pie instead of cake?"

"please don't bring math into our love life."

yunho — [ broadcasting journalism ]

roommates with you, hongjoong, and jongho.

is called 'newspaper boy' by hongjoong.

is well-known around campus for being one of the student journalists for the university's newspaper.

you have the very first published paper, with his full name printed on the front, framed in the hallway of your dorm.

has the prettiest hands.

and longest fingers you've ever seen.

can put them to good use.

especially when typing out essays. they're practically blurred from how swift he is.

likes to ramble about current international events to jongho early in the morning. the latter pretends to understand, giving the other false hope.

jongho always sends you a pleading look to save you from your lover.

always carries a notebook.

article deadlines = stressed yunho.

complains that his friends are 'uncultured'.

helps you with your essays.

if he has enough time, he'll actually re-write it for you.

"was it really that bad?"

"it's okay, baby. you're good at other things."

"how come you don't re-write my papers?" jongho huffs from across the living room.

"you're not y/n."

interviews you and your other roommates for his projects.

you smile from behind him as he zooms in obnoxiously close to hongjoong's disgruntled expression.

"he zoomed in on my nose again, didn't he?" the blue haired male asks you.

"sorry, but that tomato sauce stain is really distracting me."

hongjoong nearly drops his fork.

"what stain!?" he furiously rubs his face with the back of his hand, "see! i told you that you always interview us at the most inconvenient time!"

is constantly writing.

can be very unorganized.

"who took my ap stylebook!?"

"can you stop shouting? it's 6 a.m., yunho!" hongjoong growls from his bedroom.

mingi and seonghwa often visit your dorm because they're usually partnered with yunho for an assignment.

it somehow always winds up with mingi and yunho fooling around, whilst seonghwa struggles to persuade them to help him with the work.

sometimes, you tag along to help film his public social experiment projects.

is a social-bug, so people are instantly drawn to him.

likes to cuddle with you while watching the films for his assignments.

you think most of them are pretty boring, but being in his lap and tucked against his chest makes up for it.

you like to add glittery stickers onto his video camera and tripod.

is very much infatuated with you, so he doesn't mind one bit.

applied for a paid broadcasting radio station/tv internship over the summer and was quickly accepted.

asks you to help him style his hair for his first day at work.

"but it's just a radio station. no one's going to see you?" jongho questions with a perplexed expression.

"i still need to look presentable!"

and later that day you quickly hush the two males beside you once the clock strikes 2 p.m.

"quiet! yunho should be on any second now!"

"i was just breathing?" hongjoong whispers weakly.

over dinner, jongho often mimics yunho's reporting voice.

"y/n, do i really sound like that?" yunho pouts as you and hongjoong burst into fits of laughter.

"aw, don't be sad. i love your reporter voice, baby."

will wake everyone up early the next morning by yelling at the top of his lungs with his reporter voice just to get back at you three for laughing at him.

[ddaehyeon]

something new; koo jungmo + reader

pairing: koo jungmo + gn!reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.2k words

summary: you weren't a regular customer, in fact, you only go to jungmo's store once a year. his curiosity about your yearly action sure had gotten the best of him when he finally decided to ask you why you'd always buy the same thing every year.​

taglist: @bunnyseongmin​, @lovevity​, @marigolddss, @starrycrvty​

a/n: a little late but !! happy jungmo day :> i suck at titles,,, this was supposed to be a short drabble

not requested! ☆  cravity masterlist ;  taglist form

a month left before flowers start blooming again. you tucked your hand in the pockets of your coat, the warmth of the hot packs spreading into your body. usually, you’d stay in your unit for the whole day, drown yourself in activities you weren’t sure you actually enjoyed.

however, today was different. it was the only day in the year you’d put an effort to dress up and wander around the city.

you looked at the paper bag that held two cat plushies you had bought out of impulse. a strategy fooling you into buying a buy one take one stuffed toy you simply found cute. you don’t normally spend money on such a thing, but giving in to such little temptations once in a while shouldn’t be so bad, no?

a smile on your lips, there was only one more location left. your every year’s final stop. a cakery.

the heavy traffic of customers was set to occur in a few days with valentine’s day approaching. despite that, today wasn’t as condensed. a few customers would go every now and then to get either a birthday cake or just to indulge in buying their favorite slice.it was just a small shop, having too many flowers on its display that would at first make you mistaken it for a flower shop. a wide variety of cakes along with some muffins and sponges were on display.

never did it fail to give you such a welcoming vibe whenever the bell rings above your head. a cheerful greeting following it thereafter.

“the same cake?” jungmo, as his nametag read, asked and you nodded.

you only go there once a year. same day, around the same time. an hour before their closing time. and every single year, this guy seemed to be the one to handle your order.

“oh and—”

“the ‘happy birthday to me’ icing, noted.” there was a smile on his lips when he pulled your favorite cake out of the showcase. a small gesture that made you smile. he remembered.

“thank you.” you watched him turn his back to you to work on your cake. as you wait, you walked around the shop where you ended up settling in front of a bundle of tulips, still fresh. curious, a question slipped out of your lips. “you buy flowers every day?”

jungmo just finished packing your cake when he turned to you and answered, “not really.” his hand moved to place your order on a plastic where the shop’s logo was imprinted in such a whimsical font. “only during this date.”

you raised a brow at his response, going back to the counter to pay for your item. “it’s lovely.”

“it is.” the sound coming from the receipt being printed filled the room for a moment, giving any awkward silence no space to linger. jungmo attached the receipt on the plastic, placing it down on the counter for you to receive. “by the way, why do you always buy your cake for yourself?"

it was a question you didn’t expect to hear, but you took pleasure in answering. "for self-love.” you shrugged, a smile reappearing in your brim. “no one celebrates it with me, so i'll celebrate it myself."

no, it wasn’t as pitiful as it sounded. it was just… sometimes, your best company for such a special day would be yourself. and yourself alone.

“is that so?” a hint of surprise was painted on his expression. though it gradually melted when he locked his eyes on you. ever so nonchalantly, he asked, "then can i celebrate your birthday with you?"

“wouldn’t it be weird to spend your birthday with a stranger?” regardless of your words, you’d mentally agreed to do it. you simply wanted to see how he would react, trying to find some kind of entertainment in the situation.

and he sure was able to amuse you with his reply. “am i still really a stranger when you’ve bought the same cake from me every single year for the fourth time now?”

you chuckled at his response. “well, i guess not?”

jungmo smugly hunched his shoulder up as if he was able to win some kind of debate. it was something that made you laugh once more.

“after your shift then,” you said. there was only less than an hour left anyway, you can wait.

but maybe jungmo can’t.

“great.” he placed his nametag down, checking the balance of the cash register and locking it after. without wasting any second, he went to the signboard, flipping it to indicate that the shop was already closed. yet again another curve appeared on his brim. “it’s over now.”

to be outside during the evening of your birthday wasn’t a part of your plan. neither was being inside a cake shop after its closing time nor celebrating your birthday with the son of the store owner was in your checklist.

the two of you settled on one of the tables allotted for customers who would want to enjoy their cakes inside the shop. after his gleeful singing of a happy birthday song, you blew the candle and made a wish.

it was your first time to hold an actual conversation with jungmo. the chat going smoothly as if you’d known each other for years. well, in fact, you do, just not in this way. his background coming known to you; his parents owned the shop and he simply enjoyed being there at least thrice a week.

“so… you said you buy flowers during this date only,” you began, looking at jungmo as he brought a portion of his slice to his mouth. “why so?”

jungmo hummed at first, looking at the displayed flowers as he swallowed. his lips forming a thin line while he stared at the tulips you were adoring earlier. “it’s actually my birthday today as well.”

“oh, it is?” you weren’t able to mask the surprised look you had on your visage. what a coincidence.

“yes,” he said with a nod. “and i also do the thing you do. the cake that says ‘happy birthday to me’ i mean.”

that one didn’t come off as a shock to you. with how he mentioned that his family was busy most of the time, he’d probably have it the same with you. without much thought, you reached for the paper bag that contained the plushies you’ve bought earlier. you pulled one of it out and handed it over to him. “happy birthday, jungmo.”

an adorable pout decorated his lips after you gave him a ‘gift’ as though he was sulking upon receiving it. “that’s unfair, i don’t even have a gift for you.”  

you simply smiled. little did he know that his company was enough as a birthday present. “it’s not. thank you, jungmo.”

before parting ways, jungmo made sure to get you another cake that had the same note as the icing. he thought that maybe even after celebrating it with him, you’d want to still do it alone. the tulips and some other flowers wrapped to craft a bouquet was also given to you. you never imagined this would be how your birthday end. no complaints though, it was the best birthday you had by far.

and it was probably the best one jungmo ever had as well.

[emeraldeyes23]

Fictober/Fantober2020 -

Day 19 - Neighbors

"Watch where you're going, idiot! Are you fucking blind or what?" Eiji had just arrived home, carrying two huge bags from the convenience store next to the apartment complex, and had really not seen where he was walking. But the only other apartment was empty, so he wasn't worried about walking into someone. He had heard someone else had rented the apartment next to him. There were rumors that he was handsome but had an intense look and a bad reputation that scared most people away. Rumor had it that he was in a gang, had been in jail, and owned a gun that he always wore tucked into his jeans. Still, he hadn't seen him for weeks, so he wasn't used to running into people here. But this time, he had run into his neighbor and, since he was in a hurry and had walked pretty fast, they both crashed and landed with a loud thud on the floor. Eiji had dropped his bags, of course, and all the contents had landed on the floor and on his neighbor who looked at him with a death glare, green eyes burning wildly into his own. Still, Eiji didn't care for rumors. There was always a grain of truth to them, he had to admit, but most of it was exaggerated and entirely made up. He quickly picked up his things and put them into his bags again. "I'm so sorry!", Eiji exclaimed, feeling like the worst klutz ever while picking up all the groceries quickly and putting them into his bags again. He could feel how his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Why couldn't he just meet people without always embarrassing himself? Clearly irritated, the guy threw some items that had fallen in front of his door into one of his bags and left. "Watch where you're going next time!", he growled coldly before shutting the door with a loud bang. "He didn't have to get that mad.", Eiji thought, pouting at the closed door. Still, there had been something about him that had aroused his interest. Yes, he was handsome. More like drop-dead gorgeous. But that wasn't what had made him curious. It was his posture, his body language that screamed Stay away from me. When the guy had dropped the items into his bag, his hands had touched for a fraction of a second, and he had immediately pulled his hand back as if burnt. What had that been about? But what Eiji had made curious was the cold look in his eyes. His eyes were of a beautiful color that was pretty rare even in New York; he had never seen such mesmerizing green eyes before. At first glance, they were cold and cruel, and he understood why people were scared. But at the same time, they were so captivating and alluring; he had kept staring at him for a moment too long to be still considered polite. While staring at him, Eiji had seen something else in his eyes. Something he wanted to hide from the world. His eyes weren't clear like his own, they were clouded, and the color was dimmed, so he looked as if he had gone through a lot. They displayed a darkness and a deep loneliness in them that had left him stunned. When Eiji opened his apartment, he noticed something sparkling on the floor. It was a necklace that looked like dog tags. Next to it, in the dimly lit hallway, he saw a cell phone. He picked it up and looked at it. The screensaver had appeared when he had picked it up. It was a photo of his neighbor and a guy with a purple mohawk who had his arm around him and grinned mischievously. His neighbor stubbornly looked away, but there was a small smile on his face that betrayed him. So he can smile, huh? Eiji looked at the dog tags and the phone and sighed deeply. It seemed as if he had to meet his neighbor again. And he probably had to buy him a new phone since the display was cracked. Just great! After he had brought his bags inside, he knocked at his door. After a moment, he heard footsteps approaching. "You again? What the hell do you want?", he asked in a bad mood, glaring at him. He had an intense look that could render a whole room silent within seconds. Eiji stared at him for a moment before remembering why he had knocked in the first place. "You dropped this."

Eiji held out the dog tags to him. The guy stared at them, and a soft expression flickered across his face for a tiny moment. Then his poker face returned.

He ripped the necklace out of Eiji's hands and glared at him angrily, eyes flaring up.

"Give me that!", he exclaimed harshly. Then, he noticed how stunned Eiji was because his features softened slightly.

"Sorry. That necklace is important to me.", he explained. "Thank you."

Then he quickly closed the door again.

"Wait!", Eiji called out. "I found something else on the floor that belonged to you. At least, I think so? Is this yours, too?", he asked him quickly.

He showed him a smartphone. His neighbor stared at him, then at the phone. He put a hand in his back pocket, looking for his phone.

"Shit, I didn't notice I had dropped it. Thanks. Anything else?"

"Your phone has a cracked display. This is probably my fault. I'll pay you for the damage.", Eiji added guiltily.

"No, it's fine. The crack isn't new, so it wasn't from the fall earlier."

Relief ran through Eiji when he heard that. "That's a relief. I don't have much money.", Eiji replied honestly, smiling shyly at him.

"Then, why did you even tell me? I probably wouldn't have noticed.", he asked curiously, suddenly seeming more interested in him. Eiji smiled, relieved at the first attempt at conversation.

"I don't like deceiving people. It's wrong.", Eiji replied honestly, looking directly at him.

"You're a strange one. Anything else? I was about to eat something."

Eiji frowned and pointed at the leftovers of a hotdog that lay on a plate behind him.

"Please tell me that you're not going to eat that. How old is that, two or three days?"

"So? What's it to you?", his neighbor asked in an impatient tone, obviously annoyed.

"Look, I'm sorry that I ran into you. Can I make up for it by inviting you to dinner? Because I won't let you eat that. Eating that will probably kill you.", Eiji exclaimed in pure horror and disgust while wrinkling his nose at the smell of food gone bad.

"No, it's fine.", his neighbor said, closing the door. At the last second, Eiji put his foot in the door.

"What's the hell is wrong with you? Everyone else is scared of me, but you invite me, a stranger with a bad reputation and a gun tucked into his jeans, over to dinner? Do you have a death wish, or are you just as innocent as you look?", he exclaimed in irritation, his green eyes glowing dangerously in the dim lighting. But his features had softened, and there was a barely visible smile on his face.

"The latter. And it's Eiji. My name. Now, come on before I change my mind to cook something for someone as rude as you are.", he stubbornly insisted.

You don't give up so easily, Eiji, do you?", he asked, smirking at him. Still, he didn't look as annoyed as a few minutes ago.

"No, I don't. Especially if I see you eat something that can only lead to food poisoning; I can't let that happen.", Eiji declared resolutely. "I wanted to cook anyway."

Then he looked firmly at him. "Will you finally tell me your name?"

"Ash."

"Well, Ash, do you like avocado shrimp salad?"

[heresathreebee]

Garrote part 4

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Warning(s): Mature (+17), sexual tension, graphic violence and language. Previous Masterlist Next

Word Count: 2.3k words

AN: Surprise bitches! I'm an impatient bastard and couldn't wait anymore. This picture is finally appropriate (speaking of, assume all photos for this series are not created by me unless specifically stated otherwise). 

@nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @mental-bycatch

Something Nice turned out to be a dress Jazmine bought two years ago. A floral print with white petals she was sure a guy like Diego would laugh at. He still hadn't told her what he wanted with her, so she brought a change of shoes depending on the occasion. He got caught up in some work stuff, so the meeting had to wait until the morning. When he texted her the address, she wheezed. When she rolled up into the lobby, she gasped. It screamed elitist big money in every way from the high ceiling to the marble floors. A man who worked for the Jimenez's led her to the elevator, punching in a code for the right floor and stood silent as a statue. A dangerous, beefy, ranch-smelling statue. 

It's impossible to say why she expected anything less than the secure ritzy elevator to open straight into the home like a front door. There were voices in the room that the bodyguard led her away from, taking her up the stairs and planting her square in front of a door at the end of a hall. 

"Stay here." 

Jazmine did not enjoy waiting. She tapped her foot until her leg cramped, she stretched, she tried the door (locked), and she tried to guess what year the paintings on the wall were made. It was probably pay back. When Diego did show his face, he had the audacity to look surprised to see her. 

"What kept you?" 

"Just business," he said smiling. Bastard. "Inside." 

He let her enter first and it wasn't a bedroom like she had anticipated. There were large picture windows on the northwest corner of the room and a grand piano, other furniture suggesting a kind of study like a bookshelf and an armored cash (she knew a weapons locker when she saw one). Diego's hand slotted itself on her waist as he locked the door behind them. 

"Want to take some pictures," he said by way of explanation. 

"What kind of pictures?" 

Diego smiled cryptically. Jazmine did not miss the way he appraised her form, fingering the soft fabric of her dress before backing up. He pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped a candid before she could stop him. He turned the screen her way, showing her own face in the amazing lighting and quality. 

"Nice, right? Sit down." 

He waited until she was situated on the piano bench before he took a seat of his own. She watched him set the picture as his home screen and shook her head. "We can do better than that." 

She missed the big, cocky smile he pulled when he said, "what do you have in mind?" 

"A guy like you? With a picture of a clothed woman in your phone? Unlikely." 

Diego hummed playfully. "I don't think your clothes are the problem." 

There was a huge plush bean bag next to the smaller book stand under the window. An odd choice for such high class taste, but it didn't look like this room got much use anyways. Diego plopped down on top of it like he had just come home from a long day at work. He looked up at her from between his legs, and beckoned her with a crooked finger. 

"Right here," he patted the inside of his thigh. Jazmine wasn't sure if he wanted her to sit in his lap or... but then he said, "on your knees," and she fell easily into position. "You look pretty like that. Haven't asked me what the pictures are for yet." 

Jazmine shrugged, picking up his phone and snapping a picture of him for herself. "I've already got ten ideas for how to use these. My back up plans have back up plans, but I usually go with the flow. It's saved my ass this long…" 

He hummed, motioned for the phone. "You trust me?" 

Jazmine tensed up immediately. "Yeah." 

His movements were slow as he reached up for the back of her head. Gently, he pulled her down until her cheek rested against his clothed thigh, her chin practically inches from his zipper. He watched her gulp but she didn't pull away and he let her go free. 

"That's a good one. Come here." He pulled her up into a wet kiss and she melted into it. He licked his way into her mouth and swirled his tongue around her plush lips until he was satisfied with how shiny and swollen they became. Jazmine settled back instantly into position, proper her hands on his thighs for support as she posed. If his pants were loose, the sight would be obscene. As it happened, he tried not to move too much as the space in his pants became too tight. Diego snapped a couple of pictures, frustrated he couldn't get far enough to get the framing right. She watched him lean his head back to get it right and she couldn't help but laugh. 

"Alright, alright. We done?" 

"One more." Oh, the way she crawled up his body should not have felt so good. She sat her plump rump right over the button of his jeans and he bit his lip to stop from groaning. Jazmine sat up on her knees, sinking into the bag and snapping the perfect picture. "There." 

He could tell she was doing something, her fingers flashed over the screen and he resisted the urge to snatch it from her hands. Her eyes lit up as a notification sounded and just as quickly her eyes averted. He saw as he took the phone she had her contact open, sending herself her favorite pictures (the first and the last), and he also saw that Alicia needed him. 

"I gotta go," Jazmine announced as she headed for the door. 

"Don't get lost." She did a double take at the sudden turn in his demeanor. It sounded like a threat. Diego’s verbal threat paled in comparison to the ice cold, regal look a woman gave her on her way out. That was how Jazmine got her first look at Alicia Jimenez. 

~

Bored at work, Jazmine let her mind drift back to the morning. She couldn’t get it out of her head, the way his hands absentmindedly twirled the fabric in her skirt between his fingers when he could have easily done so and felt her up. It was intoxicatingly soft, especially for how cheap it was. She slapped some pants underneath it and wished she’d taken out her earrings before her shift– they itched now but if she put them in her pocket she’d never see them again. 

The flow of customers was that of a leaky drainage pipe. They often rolled in and out without so much as a look at her eyes or her name tag, some even going out of their way not to touch her and to turn their bodies sideways as if her existence offended them. Pricks. 

This last guy was acting extra suspicious. Young man with a hat, sunglasses, and a hood drawn up. He was wearing loose basketball shorts in the middle of winter and had his head on a constant swivel. Definitely going to rob the place. Snatch and runs were commonplace, but they hardly looked like this. He was too old not to know you needed a crew for the best haul. But then that means… 

Fucking kid had a gun on him and he was pointing it in Jazmine's face. The chips he had thrown down on the counter were forgotten in favor of the cash in the register– all the cash. He seemed like he was looking for the thrill rather than the kill, but the way he was waving his piece around, he hadn't had much gun safety training. She wasn't dumb enough to try and correct his form right now. Every second he took his eyes off her to scan the area and the barrel of the gun drifted away from her person, she was able to breathe. He ran out the back door. 

Now came the real worst part. Yeah, almost getting shot over $87 wasn't the worst part– calling her boss was. He didn't like his employee's making reports to the police, they had to go through him. Jazmine knew he was into some shady shit, she never felt curious enough to have a look. She barely even registered how long the grown man had been screaming in her face when she heard the door open. 

"Sir we're temporarily closed--"she started to say until she turned to see Diego standing there. 

"What," Frank huffed, "no we are not closed– sir, take as much time as you need, we'll be with you in just a moment." 

Jazmine rolled her eyes. 'We' really meant 'she'. She didn't know how he expected to make change if we didn't have cash, but then something strange happened. 

"This guy bothering you, baby?" Jazmine did a double take. Diego was leaning dangerously over the counter and had locked eyes with Frank. Her boss actually gulped. Taking control of the situation, Jazmine pulled Frank's ass around the counter. Diego followed closely, mirroring their every step with an uncontrollable itch in his fingers. It was beginning to make her nervous. 

Frank turned to snap at Jazmine, "who the hell is this guy" when he came nose to nose with Diego himself. He looked like a panther baring his teeth, and Jazmine watched his hand disappear behind his back. She snatched his wrist, pushing him back to get between the two men. 

"Don't," she hissed in Diego's face. The cool metal of his gun sent tingles up her fingers. "Just my boyfriend, Frank. I asked him to take me home." 

"OK," Frank still sounded confused. Diego's hand slipped away from the gold plated handle of his gun and Jazmine stepped away to gather her bag and wrestle the vest from her shoulders. "Hold on– I didn't say you could go!" 

"Yes you did," she affirmed with a lie. Diego caught the bag thrown at him with a huff, and she fisted his shirt to push him backwards towards the alley exit. 

"No I didn't!" 

"Sure you did! I'll see you tomorrow." 

She knew Diego was pissed. But so was she. As soon as they were free from prying eyes, Jazmine stupidly punched the drug king in the arm. 

"You need to learn about something called boundaries!," she yelled. "From now on, there's gonna be rules about when and where you show up, and who you're allowed to shoot." 

"Eres loco?!" Diego's hand fisted in the collar of her dress and dragged up to look up at him. He pressed the barrel of his gun into her neck and crowded her into the wall of the building. "You think you can tell me what I can and can't do, little girl? Do you know who the fuck I am?" 

He put the gun down so he could slam her into the wall, harder this time until her eyes spun with stars. "You're fucking nothing, cabrona. Todo nada. Do you know how many drugs go through my organization into this city alone? How much money I make?" Jazmine's eyes screwed shut and she let out a loud and regrettable sound. "Are you really shushing me right now?!" 

Diego was about to put a bullet in her head when her hands flew up in surrender. The blow to the head had rocked her– if he wasn't holding her up, she would have fallen to her knees already. 

"I don't want to know about any of that stuff," she said. "I-I can't, Diego. You can't say shit like that around me." 

The man was at a loss. She truly amazed him with her audacity. He let her go as soon as holding her no longer interested him and she slid onto her butt to catch her breath. One hand clung to her throat and the other came up as if to protect her head from a bullet. He considered it, then put his piece away. Alicia would be furious if their deal with Healy fell through like this. For Porsche. 

Cooler heads prevailed. Diego only helped her stand so she would be easier to get into the car, and they drove in silence the whole way to her apartment. Not once did she look him in the eye or apologize, nor did he take his ferocious stare off of her person. Jazmine sighed in relief when the car finally stopped, but as she was climbing out, Diego caught her by the throat one more time and pulled her ear close. 

"I'm not your fucking boyfriend, Jazmine. We are not friends. Don't forget that, querida." 

~

Healy was waiting for her in her living room. His eyes drifted straight to the red marks rising at her pulse points and the soul crushing exhaustion in her eyes. He offered her a plate of pasta and let her eat in peace for a while. 

"I'm sorry, Jazmine. Really, I am." Healy kept his hands to himself, but he did offer Hercules a treat to keep her busy. "I'll have a talk with los Hermanos Jimenez so you don't have to be on the receiving end of another tantrum like that. The next time you see them, they'll be more careful about what they say around you." 

Tired and beaten, Jazmine merely nodded. 

"Make sure you charge your device. I can't help you if I can't hear you, sweetheart." He left in a moment and for once, she was so glad to be alone. 

[alchemisland]

The Moors Mutt - I

Part II coming on Tuesday!

I. Old Stone

The beast I knew only in folkloric snippets. Hedge whispers perverting history to arcana through time immemorial. Perhaps too I had known it in nightmares, shapeless until named, becoming then familiar as a bedchamber.

It was grim autumn when that fateful letter arrived, setting in motion a chain of events both strange and unlikely. In retrospect, that a series of vignettes so bizarre could start with the simple act of a posted letter seemed comical.

The letter landed with a thud, dubbing me sole executor of the late Lady Renton Sizemore's last will, a grim charge requiring a trip to her wicked home, listed in the Briarscombe country house register as the third most bloodstained holding in England.

Dislike isn't the word. Lady Sizemore and I got on famously when last we spoke, thirty years ago. I wasn't the doting schoolboy turned dribbling manchild spending Saturday nights at bingo. Neither was she the elderly relation procuring coins from behind ears to the delight of the youngers.

We were not eachother's keeper. Why I was suddenly favoured for this sensitive task that required more mental finesse than anyone in the family gave me credit for out loud, puzzled me greatly. Somebody must have annoyed her at one of her events. Sandwich gala on the Pringle Estate destroyed by careless nephew's untucked shirt. In true family style, whatever infuriated her she took to the grave.

Once the money was apportioned, I was to ensure no stone went unturned, apt phrasing given its namesake. Cairn Cottage stood oppressively atop the mound some two hundred winters, a plundered megalith shielding against the bracing gales.

Up there the flowers bloomed blighted, grass grew sideways and only the sturdiest roots survived. Without the megalith's girth, perhaps those winds might have toppled the twisted demesne, but she held firm now as old.

Mystics, druids and spiritualists alike extolled the house's phantasmic virtues. Fringe groups scrambled to reserve exclusive use of the land for Candlemas ceremonies. Lady Sizemore didn't care, provided she was soundly remunerated.

Rumours abounded of hauntings, anomalies occurring on the land by midnight's trickery.

Upon receipt of instruction, I spurred my carriage toward Cairn Cottage, the house in whose shadow no local walked without rosaries.

Although my visit was primarily administrative, there was another matter pertinent to my interests. One muttering which above all others inspired fear. A cautionary tale warning children from the grounds by night. And sometimes, on cold and lonely nights, a brave man wandering alone might see fit to take the longer road home.

Worse than druids, they said a beast lived on the Moor. A hulking creature, whose snarling teeth bared in fullness of dark glowed like spears of starlight, whose stark brightness was dulled only by the gleaming viscera of previous engagements clinging in ragged flaps.

However the rumour started, it long sprouted legs of its own, more exciting with each recounting.

No smoke without fire. I intended to find the single primal ember, the lone truthful element, stripped of frill and frock, fancy and folly, bereft of myth, or loyalty to tradition. Was there something in the fields by night? Was it dangerous?

First came Sperrin, a grizzly hamlet outside the estate's confines. For a penny, a local lad promised to find a suitable nook for the trap. I visited the sole watering hole, a squalid cellar named Lar's. The tavern itself was not charmless, offering average vintage for below average prices, warmth, music, rustic flattery and inimitably, whispers of the beast.

The tavern's proprietor Lar was a man out of time. With his arms folded across his simian chest and those big lugs like trophy handles either side of his substantial forehead, he could have easily passed for a saxon chieftain. He stood astride the bar against a backdrop of coloured bottles. Immediately upon entering his eyes set upon me with great intensity. Unlike the merry keep of fireside tales, he offered no warmth in greeting. That you were found fit to sit his barstool was kindness enough.

Inebriates remained nursing drams, glowering at their respective lecterns. Occasionally I'd catch one staring at me, then turn away as I waved. After a while sitting and sipping, making a game of catching their nosy glances, I signalled Lar's attention. 'This is probably going to sound strange. Probably because it is. Hear me out though. Have you ever heard or seen anything strange out on the moor?'

Widened like an owl, Lar's right eye scanned me once, twice, three times before he moved a muscle. 'Have in fact. Not now though. Too many around. Later.' His lips barely moved. I tipped my nose.

Nearer closing, he poured a cup and sat, remaining on the business side of the bar.

'The beast, you say?' He leaned in close, one eyebrow raised, its shape the arching rod of a hooked line. 'I could tell you a thing or two about the beast alright.'

'Prithee speak, my curiosity is burning. I won't rest a wink until it's satiated. Tourist talk aside, do you believe, as men do God, a beast prowls these forests?' I inched forward, as if by closer proximity, the truths would be truer.

'Regular Theseus, eh? Monster hunters, we have had plenty. Lovers of darkness too. Students of forbidden arts. All are served here. Kings and paupers alike. Did you come all this way to hear me say that?' Lar spoke with great confidence. The manner of his prattling meant the tales he told were true, or this was practiced.

'No.' I replied, 'I have business in the cottage. My heart though, she belongs to this creature. I am not a quack, nor a holder of séances. I am not a man of low learning on the hunt for falsehoods. I am a lover of stories. Pray, continue your captivating narrative.'

He continued, 'Let it be said I was coaxed. You wanted this.'

In this ominous portent he let slip a mask of deft craft. There was artifice in his smile, a cheshire grin that touched either cheekbone. A whispered suggestion of hidden intent.

Everything made sense. Was I seeing clearly? More than ever. I saw his ruse; city boy down for the day, take him for a ride, tell him the usual stories. A pal of his will burst in at just the right time, scare me half to death, then they'll take me to the supposed hot-spot for the low price of everything I've got. Lar took me for a lettuce. Something in his warning tipped me. A little over-arch. If his performance was not theatre, then Shakespeare never wrote.

Doubtless once finished, Lar would proffer some overpriced talisman no fellwalker could risk refusing.

'Enough pussyfooting. Spill it. I'll need all the advice I can get.' Like a drill tip, I pressed my index finger into the bar.

'No matter what image I conjure in your mind's eye, the beast is yet more ferocious and terrible in the flesh. It's the great unreality of it.' He tapped his forehead. 'Your mind doubts what it's seeing, unable to comprehend its stimulus. Brave men are made mice in its shadow.'

'What evidence have you of such a creature?' I asked, draining my tankard. He did the same, then wiped the amber residue on the back of his hand. He looked me over once, as if to ask who I was to question. I returned a withering gaze, maneuvering my features to convey a similar message. For a moment the air felt charged with kinetic possibility. As when two pugilists circle to begin a contest, lead hands pawing. Neither of us wished to be responsible for qualms.

He broke the armistice. 'Evidence? If you didn't think it weren't here, you wouldn't have come. If you believed in your heart this week you'd be contending with a monster, you'd have stayed at home in your jams.'

'Nonsense, man! You forget I am summoned, not here of my own volition.'

'We, each of us, tell ourselves sweet little lies to justify how our limited time is spent. I have a right mind to think if the lady yet lived, you and I might still have met. On a yawning stretch such as this, arriving as you have: alone and curious. If there's one thing I can't respect, it's a self hating believer. Swanning around with all the cynicism of a non-believer, clad in the robes of an adherent, so that when the hobby is proved spurious you can point to your skepticism. You'd be first to the papers tomorrow if scientists verified the beast's existence, how you had journeyed and studied on your own dime to further the science.' Lar pursed his lips, knowing he'd cut me to the quick, vanished was his earlier reticence.

I hated how right he was. I was exactly this sort. Insulting people who believed the same things as me. First to refuse to enter a haunted house for fear a demon might take my soul.

I'd never concede his point though. I riposted, 'Few are more loathed than the opinionated barman. You speak much too readily. Do so again, I'll see your manners are checked for the next weary traveler willing to pay good coin.'

Lar's eyes lit, bulging with imagined riches. 'Let me fill your drink, sir. I meant no offence. We speak freely here. Manners soften. Soon one finds truths cannot be digested unperfumed. Here in the wilds, it's a duty to voice quarrel. Far from crown and court, unaired anger festers.' Lar gladly dispensed his pearls of rural wisdom as if they were sweets from a bulging striped bag.

'Really, man. Every idea can be made ridiculous if extrapolated to that degree. Manners take the edge off. I'm not offended by your candor. I intend to find the creature, if such exists. Have you no doubt about that.' I watched him pull another drink.

The returned tankard was too full to raise without spilling. I slurped loudly, head bowed. Like a pulled plug, half the liquid gone in a single gulp.

'What evidence is sufficient? Look around you.' Lar held aloft his hands, urging me toward his empty business, still cast in a sickly light from the last flickering sentinels.

He pointed toward the empty seats. A single patron remained hidden in the shadows. A local by his boots.

'We did a roaring trade before that bloody woman inherited the place. Once she came, the trade died. When I was a lad, that land was free to roam. No walls. She had them built to spite us. Worse rumours too and all, that she built those walls to house it.'

'It?' I asked

'It. The beast.' Lar's voice lowered to a whisper. 'A cage for a pet beyond control. That's your sort all over. Dabbling where you shouldn't.'

'Her sort.' I corrected, 'I'm not aristocratic. You're a presumptuous sort, you know.'

'Believe you're not the first to say. Her sort, whatever pleases. I don't subscribe to this theory. Me personally, I think it came from hell. One thing's for certain, it got worse when they shifted the cairn.'

'You say you have seen it?' Part of me thought I was the one stringing him along, but another more gullible me firmly believed, or wanted to believe, that he had seen something. Hoping not to seem needy, I drew myself close to him, the bar still between us, 'With your own eyes if you saw it, you must swear it now. Did you see it as I see you now, or as one sees the distant stars and erroneously assumes knowledge.'

'As I stand before you.' Lar gestured to his stained apron, which he then removed and hung on a hook overhead. He nodded to the barfly, who stumbled from his seat and shot the bolt across the lock, an angry black mechanism like a bas-relief, which clanked against the timber as he let it fall. 'That's Fergus.'

Fergus lurched over. One leg trailed behind him. I couldn't help imagining him as a gothic manservant, dragging corpses to the laboratory in pursuit of higher knowledge. He came to stand beside me. There were giants on the earth is those days. Though our eyes observed the same setpieces, his countenance betrayed little comprehension. He had the chiseled jaw of a marble bust in profile, but his mouth hung open permanently, moist lips pursed like a fish.

He placed an enormous hand on my shoulder. Such space was permitted between his splayed fingers that ten legions abreast might find passage unmolested. His knuckles protruded unnaturally, evidence of labour, something harder than masonry or smithcraft. Mayhaps soldiering overseas.

I stared at his hand. He never looked at me. I coughed, first mannerly, then more harshly, thinking to approach cautiously lest my assumption prove provident, that he had lost his sound during foreign campaigns, of whose spoils we all were beneficiaries.

'Don't mind him.' Lar said. He spoke softly in the presence of his friend, observing his movements closely, ready to interject with a steadying hand or a warning to the cruelly curious. I wondered were they brothers. They bore little resemblance, though stranger things I had heard. Lar took Fergus' wrist and pressed gently, disturbing the folds of his motheaten jacket. They shared a moment I could but observe, radiating warmth and glad tidings in a wordless wave.

'I mean not to speak boldly, and lash me with spite if I transgress overmuch, but I must know or I should forever wonder, are you kin?'

Fergus shared Lar's laugh with the same look of bemused ignorance.

'You hear that? Fancy man reckons we're brothers. Probly thinks we're all related down this end, and not in a godly way.' Lar laughed, a viking bellow.

Lar released his grip and the folds of Fergus' sleeve righted themselves. He spoke several octaves lower, miming offence at my observation. I started to explain I intended no hidden subtext, but Lar waved to indicate all was taken as delivered.

'We are not brothers. Close friends. Known Fergus here forever.' He gently tapped the giant's hand, slapped on the bar like some enormous muddy bird print. 'Used to be a keen cookie too, once upon a forever ago. Loved languages, Welsh mostly. Pugilism he loved more. One passion consumed the other. Anything burning so intensely inevitably cannibalises itself. Took one knock too many, stole his wits in an instant. A left hook across the bar sent him erstwhile. Twenty five minutes he was on the shores of night, learning the landscape of the dreamworlds, while we fanned his rigid form, wet his brow and whispered familiar names in his ear. When at last he woke a part of him was left forever in that place. I like to think, boyishly perhaps, it awaits him upon leaving this plain of lousy strife, like the belongings awaiting a homeward jailbird. The cloak of a lost lifetime. Not for him. He'll slide right into it, fit like a tailored piece, and all of eternity to speak. Not here though.'

Tears welled in his eyes. I took the reins, 'Think nothing of your emotions, man. We each have them. Doubtless I will shed a tear up in the old witch's place. Another life awaits, that much is sure. Grander than this. I'm sure he made, and makes, a fine man. Built like a gladiator. I am sorry to have dredged unpleasantness. I meant only to satisfy my own selfish curiosity. Forgive me. Please, continue.'

'I will at that.'

'It were one night, three years ago. Ferg was there. We'd been called out on account of strange noises near the workers' cottage. They wouldn't work until the evil was killed or driven away. We came down from the high road proper and saw it between the trees ahead. Like a horse it stood, with clumsy stilts supporting an ursine bulk that swayed as it shambled. It drank shadows to conceal its dread presence. Blackness it took for robe. In walking its front paws propelled its cumbersome form, while the rear set, less lengthy, dredged channels in the dirt. In motion it arched to reveal a belly spun of lighter felt, ashen in the scant moonlight. Bundled, it became an orb of shadow, nothingness.'

'Unbeknownst we watched it watching, green eyes like blazing protostars probing for movement. Well it knew to choose this site, one of only two wells being located nearby. In a flash then it was gone, satin-shoed away into the night.'

The tale Lar knew was a scorcher paused. He beamed, an actor awaiting applause. I gathered my jaw from the floor, brushed it and set it back properly.

Each word drew me closer, which Fergus mirrored, until we three sat as witches about the bubbling lip of their cauldron, a coven of pallid specters.

Lar paused to sip and nodded we join.

I wondered had my hobby, in a blink, become too dangerous to justify. It was well telling my employers of ghost hunts, but a wild beast - my insurance wouldn't have it! If it turns out some menagerie escapee, what then was it? Quest for wonder or recklesss folly? Weiss, Wellie and Wardun insurance, even in their most obscure policies, don't pay out for fools. That's why I chose them!

Lar went on, a fresh cigarette painting the air blue in his articulation, 'Each new, shifting moon we came to that spot and watched. We took it upon ourselves to rid the land of danger.'

'Fergus knows a bit about a bit, that's what's left to him, God bless. What he knows is knots. Army training dictates every officer have at least passing knowledge of ten or more useful fastenings.'

'Me? I know about animals. We make a fierce duo. We inquired in advance about a reward, to which the estate responded agreeably, so we set off with lengths of rope overshoulder and the angriest looking traps the furmen could spare, determined to snare it. We planted snares all about its presumed domain.'

'Nothing came. Not a rat. Not a wisp. Not never again. It's the mystery disturbs me most. I'd die happy knowing.'

In his voice a single note of longing rang, dispelling the subterfuge of his intentions and, in the length of a breath, his beings and inner machinations were laid bare. Far from the sinister goldlust and murderous intention I had silently attributed to him, he seemed eager in an earnest fashion, willing in the name of a job done.

I observed Lar, powerful and straight. 'Do I sense an unfinished quest?'

'Aye. Not too subtle, mind.' Lar flashed a toothy smile, the sort a condemned man spits at his executioner. 'You seem a serious man. I didn't know when you first came in parading your manners like fancy knickers. You can't be too sure about a man who gives too many pleases. You're not that sort and have proved such twice over.' Lar imagined that was a compliment from the look he gave me. Expectant almost, between child submitting scribbles for display and cat batting dead mouse onto pillow.

Well, of course I had something to say about that. Cats were hissing. A donnybrook of claws and torn fur not even a hearty stock of iodine could salve. 'And I might say also that I too had cast aspersions on your character, maintaining you were of sinister country stock. As you claim to have been rapturously convinced otherwise, as have I.'

'Once the lady's estate is divided and bequeathed I'll receive my own. I mean to inherit a substantial bursar. I will pay to you a fair sum. In exchange, you will guide me to the hotpots, generally ensuring nothing eats me. When we find it, you're in charge until it's bound.' If he came, it would be on my terms.

'Find it? Slow down. We've seen it once in a hundred times. I'll take you gladly all the same.'

Wordless, we shook hands and drained our horns.

'Tomorrow?' Lar asked. He drew my gaze to an unopened whiskey bottle, which I declined.

'Not so, good man. Tomorrow I will tend my affairs. In the evening, if all is ordered, I will return to discuss further a plan of action. Have you a room I might rent?'

'Not for everyone mind, so don't go saying. There's one in the back. I'll light the fire.'

'Please do.'

I left a generous tip. Before following the publican to the warm hollow, I shook Fergus' hand, assuming he too would be part of our fortean friendship.

While I slumbered, the nightmare broke free her paddock, thundering across the veil of my somnambulant phantasmagoria, its clanging hooves ringing shrill terror.

I saw spined creatures oozing pus, many-eyed. Edgeless orbs hissing like flying snakes from one black abyss to another.

Cats with human faces screamed. A hairless man with a tail curled upwards like a scorpions noxious pike disemboweled himself with a broken mirror.

Last came the bestial form, not unlike that which Lar had described, striding evilly. Two venom coated fangs, uncontained by its snarling mouth, curved inward toward its breast. Catlike claws glinted menacingly. Turning my third eye downwards as if to look upon my feet, I found I was formless, yet the beast circled knowingly around the space my corporeal form should occupy.

I knew instinctively this reverie was more tangible than the others. That if the beast should strike I would die or wake screaming with a crimson pool spreading below me. It sniffed the air, pawing closer.

I woke to my beastless chamber. Sodden, I sought a candle and in its gloam chronicled my nightmare. That night sleep ne'er returned, making groggy my morning plod toward Cairn Cottage.

[virgofabreakdown]

Chapter One - Double Lives AU

Prologue | Next Chapter

One Year Later

Patton's POV

Blackberry Cafe 2:30 PM

"Virgil, where are the rest of the cookies from this batch?"

"What do you mean?" Virgil shouted from the bathroom. "That's all of the ones from that batch."

"What do you mean that's all the cookies from that batch?! The recipe makes over 30 cookies, but there's only 2!"

"I just sampled some of the cookie dough!"

"Some?"

"Most of the cookie dough..."

"For the love, Virgil. Why?" Ding! The bell at the front of the store rang across the store.

"Hello, welcome to Blackberry Cafe. Can I help you - oh, hi Roman!"

"Hey Pat, can I get the usual?"

Virgil came out of the back, "depends, are you gonna pay this time?"

"Probably not," he admits. I package up two cookies and three scones and hand them to him.

"Two chocolate chip cookies and three rosemary ham and cheese scones, on the house!"

"Patton, no," Virgil sighs. "I was trying to get him to pay for once. He can't just always get free food."

"That's just the perks of having an little brother who owns a cafe," Roman states with a wink.

"Plus, if I didn't give it to him, he probably wouldn't eat until dinner."

"Well maybe that would teach him to pack a lunch," Virgil reasoned. "Or better yet, actually pay."

"But he's hungry..." I pout at him for a minute before Roman cleared his throat.

"So, guys, me and Logan are going on a date tonight, if you guys are interested in joining us...?" Virgil looks at me. "It's up to you guys, of course, you don't have to, if you don't want to."

He trailed off, looking at the two of us. I shrugged, "I have work off tonight, so it shouldn't be a problem for me. What do you think Virg?"

"I don't think I have work. Sure, why not," Virgil looked at me with a smile. "We could use a date night anyway."

Roman gave us a big smile. "So, we've got a reservation for nine, so let's plan to meet up at my place around...eight, eight thirty?"

"Wait, you were planning on us coming?" Virgil sighed in frustration over the fact that his brother made the reservation without knowing if they could come. "Let's do eight, just to be on the safe side."

"Awesome," Roman said, walking towards the door. "See you later, then?"

"See you later!" I shout, waving to him.

"I can't believe he didn't ask us first! What if we couldn't have made it?"

"Then they would have a slightly bigger table," I say. Virgil looked very worked up. "It's fine."

"Yeah, but still."

"Now," I say, placing a hand on my hip. "Mind sharing why exactly you ate almost an entire batch of cookie dough?"

Time Skip

The Black-Berry Residence 7:30 PM

"Hey Virg? What do you think of this tie?" I shout across the apartment.

"I don't know, it would be a lot easier to tell if you weren't on the other side of the house." He sounded stressed.

I walk out of our bedroom into the living room and do a little twirl. "How do I look?"

Virgil seemed to be at a lack for words. "You look great," Virgil admitted. I wasn't wearing much, just some slacks and a loose blouse. I added a small blue bow to match my shirt. It was slightly fancier than my usual attire, but Virgil seemed to like it. We stared at each other for a moment. Nothing was said, but a comfortable silence filled the air. And then my phone rang. It pierced through the air with a certain, yet annoying ring.

I sighed, "one second." I picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, we need you to come in." I walked back into bedroom.

"I'm sorry, what?!"

"Look, I'm sorry, sir, but we need you to come in."

"No way, it's date night!" I protest. "I've got plans. Call someone else in."

"It is imperative that you come in to work," the man on the other end insisted.

"What could be so important that you need me too come in on my one day off," I demanded. "I mean, honestly, it's bad enough that -"

"Dracowitch. We have a lead on Dracowitch."

"Draco -" I shout, before lowering my voice. "Dracowitch? But how? He's been off the radar for months now."

"Which is why you need to come in. You are the best man we have."

I sighed, "fine. You better be paying overtime for this."

"Once the job is done, we will. But you must get here as soon as possible."

"I'll be there."

"Good. Farewell, and may you be fruitful."

"As to help the company grow," I say, finishing our company motto, before hanging up. Walking back into the living room, "so bad news," I look at Virgil, who had just hung up a from his own phone call. "Oh, who was that?"

"What, oh, I was just on the phone with Roman. So, what were you saying?"

"Oh, yeah. Unfortunately, I just got called into work. They need someone at the shelter for a few hours. Something about someone being delayed at the airport...? I don't know. All I know, is that I have to go to work because no one else answered the call." I felt bad lying to Virg, but I couldn't just tell him the truth. Honestly, I wanted to tell him the truth, I really did, but it was against the rules and could put him in danger. If something were to happen to him because of me, I couldn't live with the guilt.

"Oh, that sucks," he says. "Honestly, I want looking forward to sitting in a fancy restaurant and paying 50 bucks for spaghetti, anyway."

He was trying to make me feel better about the whole situation, bless his heart. This is why I love him, he was willing to do anything to make me happy and that, I lived for. Virgil restores my faith in humanity, no matter what happens, he finds a way to cheer me up.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine. I'll call Roman back and explain. You go to work."

"Okay. Thank you." I head back into the bedroom for the third time that night to get changed. I get changed and grab my bag. "I love you," I say giving him a quick kiss.

"Love you, too. Now, go take care of those dogs like no one had taken care of them before!"

I giggle. "Be back in a few hours!" I say before closing the door.

Virgil's POV

Patton closed the door. I look out the window, watching for his car to leave. A blue Prius passes by the window. Correction, Patton's blue Prius passes by the window. I watch as it rounds the corner. Poor Patton. I knew he was looking forward to this. We hardly get to go on dates anymore.

I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket. Someone was calling me. Again. The first time was Roman and now it was, I look at the caller ID, work. Of course, work always picks the worst times to call. I hesitate for a moment, before picking up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, you need come here, like right now," the person on the other line spoke quickly and sharply, while also sounding rather rushed.

"What? Why?"

"We got a lead on Dracowitch and they put Morality on it. You're his backup, so you need to get here."

"Are they sure it's Dracowitch?"

"Yep. And this is the only good lead we've had in weeks, if not months."

"Alright, I'll be there in about half an hour."

"I said now."

"That's the soonest I cam be there," I insist.

"You live approximately eight minutes away, therefore you will be here in ten minutes. This is more than enough time."

"Fine, I'll be there in a few."

"Be there in five. Farewell and help guide the path."

"To lead the company to greatness."

And with that, I grabbed the keys to my car, a dark blue Honda, and ran out the door. I hopped down the flight of stairs at the front door and popped the trunk. Taking out an extra shirt, I close the trunk and climb in the car.

I hate my job, I really do. If I had the choice to just stay home, I would, but the bakery doesn't bring in enough money. So, I work for the 'print shop' and Patton has been helping by working at the local animal shelter.

My real job most definitely pays well, but it's not something that I would openly tell people about. Even if it wouldn't result in me getting fired. I am...a hacker, in a way. The term that the company hired us under is 'Personal Guide'. Which was true, we do guide people, just not the disabled and elderly. Think more along the lines of hitmen and assassins.

Our job is simple. Aide our assigned partner through their missions by briefing them on the mission, hacking into the security of buildings, giving them directions, and letting them know if anyone was up ahead. Typical hacker things. Oh, and keeping track of their location, incase they need backup. Typically, your partner will need backup occasionally, four to five months is the company average. But I've never had to call backup. Maybe it's luck, but I'm almost certain it's not.

I believe it's my partner, rather than luck. He is literally the best assassin this company has. When they paired us up, everyone was curious as to why. Based on all the rumors flying around, this guy was a legend. No one truly understood why he had been paired with a newbie with no prior experience in anything related to computers or the company.

Until they saw us work together. We just clicked. I would have locked doors slide open as he approached them, as he responded with the witty pun that made me groan. In the middle of missions, we shared our stories about life outside of the company. We'd swap jokes and recipes, recommend restaurants for the other to try, we literally would just talk about anything. Morality, as he was called, was the only thing that made this horrible job worthwhile.

Our current target was an online personality by the name of Dracowitch. It seemed to be a German, or possibly Russian name, seeing as it was pronounced Draco-vitch. They've been untraceable, up until now.

I pull up to the print shop. Even though the store was a small local business, it seemed to be bustling with life. The lights were on and about half a dozen people were running around doing various things.

Taking a deep breath in, I walk inside and straight to the counter, where a man sat, attempting to hide the fact that he was watching cartoons with a book. I cleared my throat, before simply giving him a "hey."

"Ah, Mr. Black-Berry. I don't believe you have work tonight," the man said, pausing his show and closing his book.

"Got called in."

"I see, your husband must be mad."

"Doesn't know, he got called in too, so I left after he did."

"Be careful with that. Do it one too many times, you'll get accused of cheating. I did that once and she signed us up for therapy."

"Oh, how is the Mrs.?"

"She's fine. Been a bit better since therapy."

"That's good. Well, have a good night, Larry. Say hi to Dot for me!"

"Will do!" And with that he pressed a button under his desk. The door behind him slid open, revealing an elevator to the basement.

End of Chapter One.

@vaugleysassygrunt

[a-cat-who-likes-stars]

Dating and priorities. 1500, 18 Mar 2021

"Priorities" has been such a key word these days, because as much as I had been experimenting with a specific type of dating, I'm glad that I'm able to clarify to myself the good things among any else. This time I'll record what happened with my 1st few trials with said certain type of dating. Try to guess what kind of dating I went for, though they all took place online.

In retrospect, the first profile I made was the best. I could rejoice ironically how much of a regret I had after deleting it, but I'm not someone who goes with guilt and remorse. I always move on, though this time it felt more emotional, and I felt I had to carry an extra sack from where I'm walking away from, like this was a souvenir from the experience I went through.

My first profile picture was really elegant with a tinge of sultriness, but just a teeny tiny tinge of that. The background was a pale pink with a light tiffany green accessory cape, a few dark wooden-like ornaments on a sort of mantel. At least that was the impression of the profile picture, because truly it was just my bookshelf and my bedroom wall and a random piece of sheet I threw over to cover my sort of library collection.

I was wearing my bob with my bangs pinned up so I looked clean, tidy, well kept, classy, simple, no-nonsense. My make-up was a simple blush pink lipstick, some mascara, some compact powder to cover my undereye circles, brow penciled. The compact wasn't really covering the deeper shade of my undereye fully, combined with daylight it seemed too transparent, but that warrants my no-need to do any eyeshadow.

In the profile picture I'm in a half smile, but really it's just a matter of angle because I don't have to smile at all, I just seem like I'm smiling politely. My eyes looked downwards at the camera lens. I looked really classy.

Anyways the description and the photo was a boom because I received messages as soon as I put them online and they got approved.

There's this guy who offered a pay per meet but they gave off an off vibe so I deleted the message.

Over those kinds of inboxes the 1st guy that caught my eye did exactly this: he wanted to meet over coffee and offered a monthly allowance of 3000. That caught my eye because he meant business. I later caught on with him by texting outside of the website only to come to the conclusion I wasn't able to meet him because I won't be around until the middle of April. He told me to let him know when I'm back in the city.

Maybe he was the 1st person I reached out the furthest, I was interested and sent a message of a song recommendation from spotify to him but he didn't reply. It felt like dangling on a cliff. 1 week later I got another message from an overseas number offering a job. I knew the only way was through this person because I only used this new number of mine to communicate with him.

That gave a suspicious feeling, because this proved he might give any info of mine to anyone and the key thing was Without My Permission, I don't care if he did it out of what kind of intention. It was wrong and crossed my line, and as much as the offer of 3000 monthly seemed attractive to me (a 1st timer) I decided to delete their contact on my phone.

I had another place where I kept account of our chat details so if I ever (but highly unlikely) want to reconnect to this person whom I had researched online and found out he is a carpet businessman who looks I have seen via photographs of him, I decided it was done.

My principles.

The next person I dealt with just recently. He was such a friendly person who seemed genuinely into the game. And by game, I'm sure with his experience, he's a player. He's married but still looking, and from what we talked about on phone (he was the 1st to call me and the 1st guy whose voice I had heard since I started dating like this) he had a partner once for 2 years, she was a student but she ended her studies and things moved on but they kept being friends, this guy is someone who really manages his time with finesse, I must admit. He is a professional engineer, he says, and in his messenger account he put a name that I could easily research online and find a construction company director position linked to it. From there he is said to be a graduate from the University of Melbourne a long time ago. From there it tells me about how old he is now. His children (since he said he is married) if any, I figure could probably be older than I am.

That aside, he seemed genuinely interested to have a long term relationship. He seemed chemistry. He is very friendly and I could totally be friendly too, but I was guarded and cold compared to my usual self, especially when I was on that 1 phone call with him. He said he was driving, and he liked to hear about people's voices when he drives back home from dinner with his friends.

The next day I was greeted with a picture of a rose from him and a wish. The day after it was a quote and another wish for productivity as I mentioned my occupation too. This guy really knows how to converse. I admire his manners and conduct. In fact, he matches 89% of my description of "what I'm looking for". Save the married part.

He asked me if I'm allergic to married men. No, I'm not. I see them as humans all the same. I actually see him as a patient. It has only been 1 year and 6 months since I've enrolled in my professional academic training, and for that part of mindset, I was intrigued by myself to be honest.

Like I said, I was interested also because I was curious why he would had such kinds of affair after marrying a woman. I researched online for a consecutive 3 days regarding this matter. The reasons were humane enough.

I was reckless and threw this connection away. Because I was trying, too hard. I had a favourite guru on this sort of dating and she was successful. In her videos she said it was never too soon and about how we keep our standards up high so that people we date are on par and we don't waste our time. Be focused on the aim. There's nothing wrong with that. Anyone who wants something has to set their intention on it.

I wanted a book so I texted him about it and he read my message and never ever replied. I was filled with guilt I removed my simcard so that I never EVER reconnect with this person however the chemistry or friendliness existed for the first 2 days.

I recall a tarot reading because I'm into these stuffs. The reading said this person "will prepare you for your true connection". I couldn't agree more. I felt on one hand I disrespected him, on the other hand he taught me to be respectful of time and mannerisms. It was a sort of transaction with no money involved. I'm grateful I met this person, he really reminded me of that.

He also showed me how high my standards should be.

The day after I watched my guru online and she reminded to keep it as a date, not some job.

Of course. I just went off track for a time. See how it affected everything. Impressions are so important.

I started to date because I wanted to spend my time on guys who can afford and are good in management, well in conduct, respectable. I was grateful I met them. It felt rare. I wouldn't have met these people who are multimillionaires, entrepreneurs, CEOs, Directors, if I only mingled with peers. Plus my peers suck.

What an experience. I'm thankful for these gurus. Eventhough I will most probably NEVER meet them ever again. But I will remember their names, they have touched me without knowing (it's not that sentimental, just stating) and if I ever come across them in real life, I will send a wish for their general well-being. Like putting it out to the universe and the universe will take care of everything else.

I took out my profile and deactivated it. Nothing remains except if you're a hacker you may retrieve the deleted info. It was like a summer fling to me. Although everything IS like a fling to me. I take things less serious than I seem to be, and as much as I'm warm around, my heart isn't as so.

All in all, it was my 1st experience with sugar dating. Yep. Meeting successful men who keep their private life so private people assume they're gay? Interesting as heck.

I'd love to redo this again in the future after I level up. Ah, such are the beginnings of and afterthoughts for my dating choices. Imma try to write a book in the end as a memoir. Cheers!

[ktrsss1fics]

I'll Be Your Safety: Fifteen.

If there is one thing that can bring a group of friends together, it’s a home made meal. Historically the act of breaking bread with one’s friends promotes community and love. Veronica Michaels adored cooking for her friends. That’s why she was so excited to host her first Family Dinner for the boys. In order to make an impression, she went all out. She made both beef and cheese ravioli, homemade garlic bread, and a nice salad that was two sizes too big. She made tiramisu and bought four different types of ice cream to go along with it. Her house smelled like an Italian restaurant and she knew at least one of her friends would be happy that she spent some time in Italy during college.

At half past five, there was a knock at the door. Ronnie stirred the pot of sauce on the stove once more. She wasn’t expecting anyone until six. She threw a tea towel over her shoulder before heading to go answer it.

Standing in a flannel shirt with a bottle of white wine in his hand was a boy she hadn’t talked to in at least twenty four hours. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before stepping inside her home. She closed the door and followed him to the kitchen. Without saying a word, he placed the wine in the fridge and took a seat on a barstool at the island in the middle.

“You’re trying to fatten me up, aren’t ya Veronica?” Niall laughed as he looked at the food she had made.

“Just trying to prevent you all from leaving me.” She joked going back to the pot on the stove.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said sneaking a piece of bread.

“You know you didn’t need to bring anything Ni. ” Ronnie said stirring the sauce once more.

“Well I didn’t want you to run out of wine because apparently that’s all you’re allowed to drink when you have Italian food.” He said scratching the back of his neck.

A smile crept across her face as she remember the last time they had dinner together. She knew he was being a little shit but she loved it. Without thinking, she turned around and chucked the towel that was on her shoulder at the boy.

Niall’s infectious laugh filled her kitchen with warmth. She turned off the burner before pulling up a seat beside him.

“Why’d you come early?” Ronnie asked tucking a few pieces of hair behind her ears.

“It’s rude to be late.” He shrugged.

“Oh.” She replied shyly.

He placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “I can leave if you want.”

“No it’s fine.” She smiled. “Was just curious.”

Niall moved his hand to her thigh before resting his head on the top of the island. “Maybe I just wanted to see ya before the others got here.”

Ronnie took a hold of his hand. Something wasn’t right. She didn’t know what it was but there was something bothering her usually carefree friend.

“You watch the Chelsea game today?” He asked before closing his eyes.

“Only caught the highlights. Why aren’t they giving Oscar the time of day?” She asked running her thumb across the back of his hand.

“Because they are dumb and don’t want to win the title.” Niall mumbled.

“Tryna give Arsenal a chance I think.” She said trying to making him laugh.

His lips turned up into a smile. “Gonna need more help than that love.”

Ronnie giggled softly.

For the next fifteen minutes, her flat was silent. She squeezed his hand in an attempt to see if he was alright. He squeezed back before letting out a long sigh.

Before she could ask him what was wrong, there was a series of knocks at her door. She squeezed Niall’s hand once more as she got up to answer the door. Standing in all their glory was the last four members of their dinner party.

She was bombarded with hugs and kisses as the boys made themselves at home. Her once quiet home was now filled with laughter and joy.

She kept an eye on Niall. Somehow he seemed to snap out of whatever mood he was in. It was as if he was a brand new person. He climbed on her couch and set up a game of FIFA for Zayn and Louis to play. Ronnie knew he was faking it but she didn’t know why.

“So Ronnie is there anything I can help you with?” Liam asked politely.

“I’ve got everything just about done.” Ronnie smiled. “Just need to know what everyone wants to drink.”

“I’ll take care of that.” Liam said before scurrying off to take drink orders.

Niall headed to the kitchen to grab a few wine glasses from the cupboard.

“How do you know people are gonna use those?” She asked in a playful tone.

“You are a member of the Drink Police so I figured you’d be having one and as long as I’m under this roof I am obligated to have wine too.” He joked sending a smile her way.

“Ni…” She sighed.

“I’m joking Veronica.” Niall said getting some regular glasses for the rest of the boys.

“Ron!” Louis called from the living room.

She looked over to find him and the others standing beside the easel she had set up. The painting she had made for him was attached to it. She walked over to them. A wave of anxious energy washed over her. This was the first time any of the boys were going to see her work. She was used to getting critiqued on her paintings but never by people who she cared about.

“You made this?” Zayn asked pointing to the canvas.

Ronnie nodded. “It’s for Lou.”

“Shit, really?” Louis asked impressed.

Zayn took a step closer to inspect the piece she made. With an appreciative smile, Louis moved over towards the young woman.

“That is probably the coolest thing anyone has ever made for me.” Louis said. “I don’t even know what to say. I love it.”

“Well thanks Lou. That means a lot.” Ronnie smiled shyly.

“Can I like pay you for it?” Louis asked rubbing his neck shyly.

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s a gift.”

“But Ron, it must have taken ages. It looks like really expensive and I probably took away from your studies. I-I-I just can’t take it from you.” Louis rambled.

“I promise none of that is true and I want you to have it.” Ronnie said placing a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “I’d be offended if you paid me for it. I’d just find a way to secretly give you the money back.”

“Fine.” He sighed dramatically before pulling her into a huge bear hug. “Thanks love. I love it.”

“You’re welcome Lou.” Ronnie replied as he let her go.

“Look how detailed it is.” Zayn said calling Louis closer.

“I’m impressed Michaels.” A tired sounding Harry Styles said as he occupied the space beside her.

“Well thanks Harry.” Ronnie smiled glancing over at him.

She was forced to do a double take. Something wasn’t right. His dimples were hiding and a look of frustration was occupying his boyish features.

“Y'alright Haz?” Ronnie asked nudging him gently.

“Peachy.” Harry mumbled dryly.

“What’s wrong?” She asked trying to catch his full attention.

Harry shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I know when you’re lying Styles.” She said with a sigh.

Harry turned toward her with a fake smile plastered on his face. “It’s nothing love.”

She tried to object but he wouldn’t let her. He slid an arm around her shoulder and placed a quick kiss on her temple.

“You’ve been holding out on me Veronica.” He said softly.

Ronnie sent a confused look in his direction.

“I think it’s time I see the rest of your work. My gallery is looking a bit empty.” He explained nodding towards the painting.

“My work isn’t nearly good enough to make it in your gallery. Trust me.” Ronnie said shyly.

“Bull shit.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“It’s true.” She blushed.

“You’re delusional babe.” Harry said before leaning in close. “Speaking of galleries, do you want to go to the Tate Modern with me next week?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule.” Ronnie said with a smile. “But that’d be a lot of fun.”

“Perfect.” Harry smirked.

His voice was oozing with arrogance and that confused the young woman. Harry was only that way when he was feeling insecure. She didn’t know what happened before the boys decided to come over but she knew she didn’t like it.

By the time dinner was over, Veronica Michaels felt loved. Each one of the boys raved about the meal she had prepared. Liam asked for a few recipes. Harry shared a few images of it with his mother. Zayn snuck a dish home to rehear the next day. Louis spent the time between dinner and dessert trying to pay for the painting she had gifted him. In his eyes, it was too good to be given away for free. She deserved to be paid for her services. Ronnie wouldn’t have it though. She sent him home with extra cake hoping it’d keep him from bringing it up again.

As she said goodbye to her friends, she realized the Irish one was missing. Ronnie turned around to find Niall standing at the sink with a pair of rubber gloves on. She shut the door before heading into the kitchen to see what he was doing.

“What are ya doing Ni?” She asked leaning over the island to look at him.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m washing the fucking dishes.” He said talking over his shoulder to her.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Ronnie said walking over to him.

“Me mum always said whoever did the cooking shouldn’t do the dishes.” He said.

A smile formed as she looked at him. “God why are you so perfect?”

“It’s the Irish roots, love.” He replied with a cocky grin on his face.

"No, I don’t think that’s it.” She said playfully teasing him.

Without warning, the young boy scooped up a handful of water and splashed her.

The front of Ronnie’s clothes were now soaked.

"What the hell man?” She said shocked.

Niall held back a laugh. “Okay I just have to say that I didn’t think it’d be that much. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure you are.” She sighed heading towards her room to change.

“Veronica. I’m sorry.” He said feeling guilty.

“Don’t be.” She said walking down the hallway.

“Hey Ni?” She called from her room.

“What Ron?” He called back placing a few dishes into the dishwasher.

“What did you guys do before you came over? You and Harry seemed like you guys were in a bad mood before we ate.” She asked quickly trading her wet shirt for a dry one.

Niall let out a sigh. He had hoped she wouldn’t notice his mood from earlier. There was a very cryptic comment during a band meeting that turned into an unnecessary argument.

“We had a meeting with Dean.” Niall replied as he heard her walking back to him.

“Did it not go well?” She asked reappearing in a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt he had left in her car the week before.

“Lets just say some people aren’t making the best interests of others a priority.” He said trying to be very deliberate with his verbiage.

Ronnie furrowed her brow trying to decode what he had just said.

“Don’t think about it too hard.” Niall said with a laugh.

“If something was wrong, you’d tell me right?” She asked placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Be the first person after Mum.” He smiled before placing the last few dishes into the soapy sink water.

Ronnie sat down on the counter top beside him.

“How long did it take ya to make that bread?” He asked cleaning the inside of her ceramic serving dish.

“Few hours.” She said resting her head on the cabinet behind her.

“You think if I get the supplies we can make some tomorrow after class?” Niall asked shyly.

“Of course.” Ronnie smiled. “It’s really good isn’t it?”

“And I suppose we could watch one of those Disney movies if you really wanted to.” He said rolling his eyes dramatically.

Niall slipped off his gloves before drying his hands on a dish towel that had been resting on the counter. He walked over and placed his hands beside her legs.

“I might just skip class so we have more time to bake.” She said.

“Unfortunately for you, that is the wrong answer my friend.” Niall said.

“Why’s that?” She asked confused.

“Aunt Ruth wouldn’t approve of you missin’ class for me.” He said softly.

“Well she’s not here to find out.” She whispered.

“If you think I’m about to get haunted by her ghost from keeping you from school, you’ve got another thing coming Michaels.” Niall said making her smile.

The next few minutes were quiet. She just sat as Niall started to study her face. His stare started out gentle. As soon as their eyes locked, something else took over.

She didn’t know what he was doing. He seemed different. He wasn’t just some goofy boy who was her friend. He was something else. An option. A choice. A boy that was willing to step up and make her feel wanted.

She didn’t want to read too much into it but there was something there.

“I think it’s time to call it a night.” He said pulling her out of her thoughts.

She could feel her cheeks growing warm for no reason at all. Was her brain trying to tell her something? Could she have feelings for Niall? What about Harry?

Ronnie didn’t want to think about it. She scooted off the counter and walked him to the door. After a brief hug and a joke about serial killers, he left.

Ronnie locked the door and headed straight for her room. She curled up into a ball on her bed and took a deep breath. Dinner was nothing like she expected. She gave love and received love but she was have trouble distinguishing what type of love it was.

She hoped that one day she’d figured it out. But that day wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

[ali2ter]

WIP Puppyshipping-ish* drabble - started writing this around Jou’s birthday, forgot about it, and just now got back to it. The TL;DR of my initial idea is “Jou’s father is prick & Kaiba is coaxed into giving Jou a ride to see his sister. Possible bonding?”

I’ve only got about two pages worth, but I figured what I had was worth posting since idk when I’ll finish.

*They’re not together nor is romance involved, but writer’s intent is there x)

Son of a bitch. Son of a bitch. Jounouchi fretted, trying not to lose his cool and failing spectacularly. Did he have to pull this shit now? January had thankfully been fairly mild, so the blond's light jacket was enough to keep out the cold as he paced the streets of Domino—going everywhere and nowhere in particular. Suppose he'd always be welcome to hang out with Honda or Yugi—hell, Anzu, too, but that wasn't the thing he was so worried about. Sighing into the chilly winter air, Jounouchi checked his phone for the fifth time that afternoon and was just as disappointed with the result as he had been the first four times. No service. Damn it.

Damn it.

Damn i—his phone clattered to the sidewalk and he startled backwards, his basic, stressed instincts telling him to raise his fists in defense. Yet, even as Jounouchi picked up his wits, recognising the figure he'd literally walked right into, it still took several moments longer to finally step out of his aggressive stance. The other man, in turn, first bent down to pick up the dropped cell without a word, inspecting it—judging it, really. Who still used a flip phone these days? Although, the brunet supposed, he shouldn't be surprised, given its owner. Still, with some semblance of passive aggressive manners, Seto Kaiba held out the antiquated device for Jounouchi to reclaim.

“You should watch where you're going; the next person you run into might not be so friendly,” the cold voice chastised, withdrawing his hand just as soon as Jounouchi snatched his belonging from it.

Friendly? Ha, as if..

“Yeah, yeah, and maybe you should watch where you're standing, sheesh. I get it...” Waving a hand, his response was noncommittal. Exhausted, even. Normally, the blond was more than happy to trade a few rounds of banter with the icy CEO, but guess Kaiba would just have to settle with that. What he was doing out in the open, Jounouchi couldn't fathom, but that wasn't important either. Rather, he couldn't help but check his phone one last time, even if the result wasn't going to change. No service—not anything that'd work, anyway. His phone was as good as useless if the bill couldn't be footed. Pocketing it, he leered up at Kaiba, who looked just as sterling as ever.

Kaiba nearly opened his mouth to speak, but promptly decided against it. It wasn't his business and he really didn't care much, despite the curious something in Jounouchi's tone that intrigued him. Knowing how volatile he was, Jou would say what was on his mind if he meant to, and if he didn't..? Then it was no loss to Kaiba, either, turning to face the street dutifully and wait.

“Look.. sorry, alright?” Jounouchi began, rubbing his face. No response. Was Kaiba even listening? Surely he had to have some snide remark, because didn't he always? When none came, Jou continued, begrudging yet a little hopeful. “...I hate to ask, but do you have a phone I can use?”

And, he really, really hated to ask, because the last thing he needed was more debts to pay. Jou dealt with that enough back home. However, this was too important to squabble about their petty rivalry, so he'd just have to be the bigger man and suck it up. There was no way he could face his friends right now, 'n while Kaiba wasn't any better, he was available. He probably had a phone, too.

“And what was it that I just handed you? A paperweight?”

Oh, there it was. Yet, fighting the urge to snap as his temper flared again, Jou took in a deep breath. “Two minutes—can't you be decent for two minutes? I just need to call my sister, 'n mine ain't working.”  

Exhaling, the blond tried to remind himself that Kaiba wasn't worth the trouble. Getting into a fight would only make things worse. Hell, maybe slap him for thinking that Kaiba might have changed at all since they'd met. Sure, the guy had it rough after Atem left, but that was no excuse to be an ass—not that he'd ever needed one before.

Turning back to Jounouchi, Kaiba seemed mostly unfazed, although—after a few second's contemplation—he drew the requested instrument from a hidden coat pocket. Unlocking the screen first, he offered it out to the blond, which seemed to placate him [if only a little]. An exasperated thank you gracelessly fell from Jounouchi's lips as he dialed.

“You have five,” Kaiba answered belatedly, internalising his annoyance for the betterment of the situation. His ride would be there any moment, and wasting time bickering wasn't really on his agenda, either, regardless of whether Jounouchi believed it or not. As such, the brunet was quiet as the phone rang once, twice... it wasn't until a third ring that a feminine voice answered. However, unlike any other time Jou had called his sister, the blonde's face fell at the sound of her—losing the aggression that had threatened to overtake him earlier. Kaiba listened, although he made no notion of it. It still wasn't his business, but it was his phone.

“Hey, Shizuka..” Jou started, trying to put on a smile, even if no one but Kaiba could see it. “I'm alright, but listen—I don't got a lotta time to talk.”

He started to pace.

“Yeah, this ain't mine,” he laughed weakly. Kaiba withheld the notion to scoff. “But I needed to talk to you, because... you know how dad is—no, I'm fine, promise. I booked it outta there before he could find a bottle big enough to get me with.”

A pause, and while Jounouchi fumbled with his sense of humour, a light frown creased Seto's features. Perhaps he'd been aware of Jounouchi's history, but there was a real difference between passive knowledge and conscious knowledge. The reminder of abuse brought with it some unpleasant imagery of his own, which he violently suppressed just as soon as it dared interrupt his thoughts. That was in the past. Gozaburo was dead, therefore he did not matter. Yet, Jounouchi's father was not, and for a moment, he almost sympathised.

“No, you're right, bad joke. Anyway, Shizuka, what I'm meaning to say is that I won't be able to make it tomorrow—” What was tomorrow? “—think the old man finally figured out I was turning eighteen and used up all the money I'd been saving just to spite me.”

That did nothing to answer Kaiba's silent question. Irritation began to set in, fierce gaze locking on the reflective black of a company sedan as it drove into view. That was his business [quite literally]. This was not. However, even as the vehicle pulled up next to the curb, Seto did nothing other than look on and listen as Jou's conversation dipped past the five minute mark. In that time, Isono stepped out of the car, unaware of the situation and fully prepared to open the door for his boss as he usually would, but Kaiba waved him off. One moment, the gesture read, and all Isono could do was nod, confused but obedient.

“Hey, hey, birthday's happen every year, right? Next year I'll be outta that house, and I promise I'll—”

Yanking the phone out of Jounouchi's hand with absolutely zero consideration to how close Jou came to socking him for it—or the daggers being glared in its place—Seto brought the cell up to his ear. “He'll be there.”

...come again? Jou wasn't sure he heard that right. What'd Kaiba mean that he'd be there? Didn't he just explain that he was flat broke? Not that he wasn't gonna be grateful if Kaiba meant what he thought he meant, but it was a little hard to believe.