#but am also falling behind in my study for vet nursing.

[hydatiid]

oh was 1 yr on T a couple days ago but almost forgot cause i be Working so much god

[rolandtowen]

three times Zuko comes into the Jasmine Dragon coffee shop, and one time Sokka leaves with him. Set in the Neurodiverse Zukka AU, but can read as a standalone.

*banging pots and pans together* "Come over here and get yall Neurodiverse Zukka!"

Read it on Ao3 or under the cut!

TW: discussions of skin picking and implied child abuse

i.

When Sokka pulls into the parking lot of the Jasmine Dragon, he is unsurprisingly the first car there. Being a freshman in town means getting the worst pick of shifts at local businesses. Sokka was hired on to work the opening shift, which means he wakes up at the ungodly hour of 5am to open the shop before the first round of sleep-deprived college students comes in. The pay isn't bad, Mr. Iroh is an incredibly fair man,

The bell on the door jingles on his way in, and he flips several light switches on, watching as the coffee shop slowly comes to life. He busies himself with getting the beans for the day grinding, pulling his first shot and dialing in the expresso. When he takes a sip, the espresso is spot on for the day, which is a relief. Having to make adjustments as customers start filing in is a nightmare.

Today's brew is floral and citrusy, so he decides to make himself and iced lavender latte - with oat milk, of course, because he's gotta do it for the gays - and he spends the next 20 minutes setting out pastries and fiddling with the display cases, making everything look perfect.

At 6am sharp, Sokka unlocks the front door and flips their sign to open, before retreating behind the bar to nurse his latte. Not even five minutes later, the door bell jingles, and Sokka sees a flash of dark hair, face obscured by a pile of textbooks and binders. The figure runs into one table, and then another, and Sokka is rushing out from behind the counter. He gets there just before textbooks go toppling everywhere, his hands taking a firm hold of the top bundle. As he pulls the books into his arms, he sees the face behind them.

Breathtaking golden eyes.

And.. a massive burn scar.

"Hi!" Sokka says, "I'm the barista on shift today - my name's Sokka." He would reach his hand for the other man to shake, but for the stack of textbooks in them.

Golden Eyes smiles.

"I'm Zuko, Zuko Sozin," he says, setting his remaining textbooks on the table by his side. Sokka follows suit.

"Hey, I think I've seen you before - are you taking Piandao's Intro to Biology class?"

"Uh, yeah - yeah! You sit a few rows in front of me." Zuko laughs. "Your doodles are uh, something alright."

Sokka knocks him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "I gotta keep my hands busy for my brain to focus." He looks down at the stack of books on the table. "What on earth are you studying, to have that many books?"

"Uh, Biology and Chemistry double-major, Pre-Med track." Sokka's eyes widen. "It's really not that much! I got a bunch of stuff out of the way with AP credits."

Sokka raises an eyebrow.

"Okay, it is a lot - but I'm really passionate about it. I want to be a doctor."

"Well, Dr. Sozin, what can I get started for you today?"

"Can I get a iced matcha, with a lot of honey?"

Sokka raises his other eyebrow. "A doctor with a sweet tooth?"

"Kind of?"

"Don't worry, I won't rat you out to your dentist. An iced matcha with extra honey?" Zuko nods and Sokka smiles. "You got it, doc."

ii.

Sokka falls into a routine at the Jasmine Dragon. He opens the shop every morning, and every morning of the fall semester so far, Zuko Sozin comes in at precisely 6:05am. Zuko will order an iced matcha with honey, and sits at a table by the window with his laptop and at least two textbooks open at all times. Then, at 11:50am - Sokka guess he has a class that starts at noon - Zuko leaves the shop, always making sure to throw his spare change into Sokka's tip jar.

He's so beautiful.

On a slow day, Sokka comes out from behind the safety of the counter and works up the courage to ask Zuko if he can study with him. Zuko looks shocked at first, but his lips quirk up in a smile as he gestures for Sokka to sit in the chair across from him, moving his textbooks to make room for Sokka's one book and laptop.

"What are you studying, Sokka?" Zuko appears to be genuinely interested.

"Oh, uh, social work, with a concentration in mental health." Sokka waits for Zuko to laugh at him. It never comes. He looks up at him over their laptops.

"That's really cool."

"You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, some pre-med majors can be really pretentious, really dismissive of mental illness, but um - not me. I don't really have that luxury." Zuko laughs, as though at a joke with himself. "What's the Intro to Biology for, then?"

"Not all of us got our common core out of the way with AP credits, like some nerd I know." Zuko smiles at that, and looks back down at his laptop screen.

Sokka pulls his keys from his pocket and starts fidgeting with the stim toy he keeps on his keychain as he reads through his latest assignment for his Mental Illness and Society class. He bought it on Etsy, relieved to find a neurodivergent-owned shop after scrolling through a lot of stores that just seemed to be hopping on the 'trend' of selling fidget toys. He flips to the next page in his textbook, popping the buttons back and forth in a steady rhythm. He remembers Zuko's sitting across from him and stops abruptly.

"Is this annoying? Do you want me to stop?"

Zuko just cocks his head. "Why would I get a say in what you do? It's kind of your shop, right?"

"Um, to be polite?" Sokka laughs. "And you would be surprised how many customers I get who think they get to tell me what to do." His eyes settle on the half drunk latte in front of him. "It's not really my shop either, I just work the early morning shifts so Mr. Iroh can sleep in. If you ever get to stay past noon sometime, you'll see him come in. You can't miss him, short guy, talks in riddles. He's older, a war vet I think - I just get that impression from some of the stories he tells me. But anyway, did you want me to stop fidgeting?" Sokka looks back up to meet those golden eyes.

Zuko glitches for a second. "Oh! No, no, go for it - if it helps you to study, I'm all for it."

Sokka smiles, and looking at the way Zuko keeps picking at his cuticles gives him an idea. He digs into his backpack and pulls out another stim toy, an acupressure ring. ""Do you want to try this instead of maiming your hands?"

Zuko hesitantly holds out a hand and Sokka drops it into his palm. "You don't have to."

Sokka scoffs. "I know I don't have to - I want to. Come on, I wear it on my thumb sometimes -" and suddenly he's taking Zuko's hands into his and getting very close to Zuko's face. Zuko can smell espresso on his clothes and Sokka's hands are so warm against his. Calloused, sure, but warm. He holds Zuko's right hand gently, pressing the spiky ring onto his thumb. "And you can rub it back and forth with your pointer finger and it gives you that kind of prickly sensation that you get from skin picking, just without the skin picking." Sokka pulls his hands away and Zuko immediately misses them. "Give it a shot, tell me what you think."

Zuko tentatively rolls the ring over his thumb. Huh. The cute barista's right, the acupressure gives him that same prickly, scratchy feeling that picking at his nails and cuticles does. "Wow," he says, "I think you've converted me."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Then keep it, I've got a thousand more where that came from, ADHD perks."

Zuko instinctively opens his mouth to protest but the words die in his throat.

"You, you have ADHD?" He stops rolling the ring across his thumb.

"Yup." Sokka's lips popped on the 'p', and he turned to the next page in his textbook. "And I'm pretty sure you've got some spicy stuff happening your brain, too. But you don't have to tell me."

"How are you so open about it?"

Sokka's hand stills around the fidget. "My parents never treated me like I was deficient in any way - my brain just works differently, which means I have trouble with some 'normal' stuff. But I also strengths in areas that others don't have naturally. Accommodations aren't anything to be ashamed of."

"Sounds nice." All of the levity drops out of Zuko's voice.

Sokka levels a look at Zuko. He lets his eyes flit to the right side of Zuko's face and the scar there. He's seen it so many times, and the burns look so concentrated, almost... intentional. His stomach churns at the thought. The scar's old... and Zuko's at college now, he has to be safe - he has to be.

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me." Sokka's hand starts to fidget with the buttons again. "But I have it on good authority that I am a good listener."

"I'll... I'll keep that in mind." Zuko looks down at his hands, fingers rolling the ring back and forth against his thumb. "Thank you."

"Anytime, doc."

iii.

Somehow, fumbling through their collective social awkwardness, they manage to swap numbers.

At the end of the fall semester, Sokka texts Zuko for the first time.

S: hey, im gonna be a few minutes later. don't worry, im still coming.

Z: okay. thank you.

When Sokka finally pulls into the parking lot fifteen minutes late, he sees Zuko waiting outside the door, sitting on a bench, head buried in one of his chemistry textbooks.

"Hey," he puts his keys in the door. "You can just come in while I open, it won't take too long."

Zuko follows him inside, and he closes the door against the chill.

"You didn't have to text me," Zuko says, like it's a question.

"I wanted to," Sokka starts flipping on light switches. "I know you've got your routine, and I didn't want to stress you out when it got messed up."

"Why would that matter to you?"

"Um, I don't want you to be stressed? I kind of care about you."

"You... you care about me?" Zuko stands in the middle of the coffee shop, unmoving.

Sokka smiles. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Why?"

"I think we could be friends?"

"Oh." Zuko's face falls for a second - what Sokka has come to understand is his 'processing' face - and he looks back up a second later. "I think we could be friends too."

"Friendship with a barista has great perks, you know." Sokka laughs as he starts up the grinder. "Although the perks of a social worker friend aren't too bad either."

"How's that going? With your first semester ending?" Zuko sits on a stool at the bar and watches Sokka putter around behind it.

"Well, I'm going to pass Intro to Biology, not for lack of trying on Piandao's part - I swear he's trying to weed out all the humanities kids. It isn't even a weed out course!" He polishes an espresso glass furiously. "How are you doing?"

Zuko chokes. "Oh, I'm - I'm fine, you know it's a hard class and all -"

"You're getting an A, aren't you?" Sokka squints at him from behind a bag of coffee beans. "Curve breaker," he scoffs.

"Hey, it's not my fault that I'm, what did you call it? A 'burnt-out gifted kid with people pleasing tendencies'." Zuko crosses his arms and huffs at the memory of that conversation. Sokka had read him like a picture book. And it was not fair for one person to be that good at emotions.

"You are correct, I did indeed call you that." Sokka pulls the first shot of the morning. "And it looks like I was right."

"You know what you said the other week, about being a good listener?"

"Sure do," Sokka takes a sip of the espresso, swishing it around in his mouth before spitting it out. "What's on your mind?"

"Well, if we're going to be... friends, I just think you'd want to know that - I'm autistic." Zuko stares at Sokka searching his face for any cues about what the next words out of his mouth will be, waiting for the facade of friendship to drop. He furiously rolls the acupressure ring up and down his thumb.

"Okay, that's great!"

"...what."

Zuko's hands freeze and he squeezes the ring against his skin, feeling the pressure increase.

"That's great, I'm glad you felt safe enough to tell me that. I kind of guessed your parents weren't as accommodating as mine?"

Zuko laughs something sour. "No, no they were not." He looks up in surprise as Sokka puts an iced matcha, extra honey, in front of him. "You're right though, I do feel safe here. I feel safe with you." Zuko looks down at the acupressure ring on his thumb, softening his grip. "You could have totally ignored me, but you didn't. Or you could've been mean about my quirks - but you weren't. Why?"

"Well, for starters, you tip well." Sokka smiles and leans across the counter, bracketing Zuko's elbows in with his own. "But you're also a really great guy - you're passionate, you want to make people's lives better, and you're also like, really beautiful."

Zuko feels his cheeks flush. "You really think that?" His fingers still against the fidget again, but he doesn't feel the need to press it into his skin. He's captivated by Sokka's words. Surely, Sokka couldn't actually mean -

"Oh, yeah. Every bit." Sokka brushes his hand against one of Zuko's, the one with the fidget ring. "Can I hold your hand?"

"Yes, please, yes." After weeks, Sokka's hand is back in his, and Zuko thinks he's going to implode. "Can, can you hold both of my hands? With both of your hands?"

"Of course," Sokka's positively beaming, grabbing Zuko's hands and running his thumbs across his knuckles. "Now you're absolutely allowed to say no to my next question, and there are no hard feelings."

"Yes?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Fuck yes."

The iced matcha is forgotten.

+ i

Sokka's feet hurt like hell. Mr. Iroh had called in him to work a double on Friday, and since he doesn't have any classes on Fridays, he foolishly agreed.

It won't seem so foolish once you see the paycheck, he reminds himself. He and Zuko have a deal. Zuko pays for his medical school with his job shelving books at the University library, and Sokka pays for their tiny apartment by caffeinating all of the other broke college kids in town. By some miracle, they seem to be able to make it work. Zuko graduated into the medical college a year early, which helps with tuition costs, and of course his brilliant boyfriend got all kinds of scholarships.

Sokka is indescribably proud of him.

The door bell jangles just as Sokka is wiping the crumbs off the last cafe table. "Hey, we're starting to close up for the night, so it'd better be a to-go order," he calls over his shoulder.

"Even for me?"

"Zuko!" Sokka drops his cloth immediately and spins around, pulling Zuko into a hug. Zuko taps the small of his back when he's ready to let go, and Sokka lets him go, beaming. "You came to visit me at work?"

"More like I picked up your favorite soup dumplings from Haru's across the street and thought we could walk home together?" Zuko shrugs, gesturing to the brown paper bag in his arms. "How's that sound to you?"

"Baby, that's just what I needed today." Sokka picks up his cleaning supplies. "Okay, I just need to put all of this away and then we can lock up and go home, how's that?"

"Great," Zuko smiles at him. "I may have also picked up some more Doctor Who DVDs from the library," he smirks.

"Oh, you trickster!" Sokka yells from the kitchen, before appearing again. "You used my one weakness, pork soup dumplings, against me in order to get your nerdy way."

"Oh, big talk coming from the guy who watches astronomy documentaries for fun," Zuko laughs as Sokka leads him out of the shop, switching off the lights and locking the door behind him. "If it were up to you, we'd be watching Cosmos all weekend, and I can only take so much of Neil deGrasse Tyson explaining the peculiarities of the moon."

"Hey, the moon is cool!"

"You are correct, the moon is very cool. It's freezing, because it's a rock. In space. With no atmosphere. Or life." Zuko deadpans, earning a light punch on the shoulder from Sokka.

"Fine, you get Doctor Who tonight, but Saturday is going to be all PBS Nova, baby. Brace yourself." Sokka takes Zuko's free hand into his as they start the walk home.

"Well, as long as you're there, I'm happy."

Notes:

fidgets in this work were inspired by those from shop StimBox

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

❛ F*CKING HIGH ❜

with Neron ‘Creeper’ Vargas.

Request: Hey! Maybe prompt 52. When Creeper get shot and Mayans don't know reader but when hé was high on medication he call her at Vicky's House ? 🙈Something really Fluff ? Thanks!! I love ur writings 😊😊

BY ANON

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.6k

Aurora says: this writing hasn't been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I'm sorry about that!

Gif credits: to the author, I found it on Google.

Masterlist.

The books over the table with a lot of notes scattered around them are starting to give you a horrible headache. You don't know how many hours you have been studying, but you're sure that it was daytime. When you focus your gaze on the horizon, through the window, you're aware of the streetlights turned on outside and the dark sky above Santo Padre. It's your final week to complete the MIR and you have left just one exam. The last one. So, when Creeper told you he was going to travel to Las Vegas for a couple days, you have to recognize that you felt a little alleviated. You want to spend the maximum time possible with him, but you also have to study, but both things aren't compatible. Even so, he should be at home already.

Checking the time on the clock in your wrist, you snort getting up from your chair to pick up the books and your pens. It's enough study for today and you're really hungry. After cleaning the table, you fall down on the sofa turning on the TV and looking in your phone for something to take away. Cooking it's not an option today. Choosing the local pizzeria for excellence, you're about to make the order when an incoming call interrupts your plans. Reading his name on the screen, you answer quickly.

“Babe!”

“Maaaaamaaaa”. He sings, making you frown somewhat confused sitting on the sofa. “Heeeeey, maaaamaaaa”.

“Are you… high, Neron?”

“Yeah… Fuckin' high… for you, my loooove”.

“What the hell? Where the fuck are you?”

“Mama, I want you here. I need you here, maaaama!”

“Ner—”.

“I am… close”.

“Close from what?”

“Border, mama. Close to the border. Come with meeee. I need my nurse, mama, pleaaase”.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Your heart is racing, jumping off from the sofa, running to your shared room.

“A guy shot me, mama. But don' worre', I'm okaaaay”.

“Neron, send me your location right now!”

“Mama, mama, mama, are you comen'?”

“FUCK, NERON, OF COURSE I'M COMING. SEND ME THE FUCKING LOCATION”.

“Don'... Don' shout at me, mama”.

From nowhere, you can hear him crying like a child. Even if he's high, that shit breaks your heart into pieces. Stopping next to your bed rubbing your forehead, barely gulping, you try to calm yourself.

“Are you alone?”

“N—No…”

“The bul—”.

“It's out, mama… I wan—want you here with me. I'm okay, mama, I'm okay… Come with me. Don'... leave me, don' break with me, mama, please”.

“Send me your location, okay? Could you do that for me?”

“Yeah, mama… Are you comen'?”

“Sí, Neron, I'm gonna get dressed, okay?”

“Okay, mama… I love you. I love you, mama. I truly love you, I swear”.

“I know, mi flaquito”.

Hanging up the call, you take some second to breathe calmly before looking for some clothes to put on and grabbing the medical kit when you're ready. They better have something to eat, or there will be more than one man shot. Leaving your house, your phone rings with a notification. The address of Vicki's house. You have heard about it, and you're not surprised at all. According to your boyfriend, this is the favorite place of Mayans. You don't know them, not yet, but you can imagine why they like it this much. Keeping the kit on the back seat, you step in your car turning the engine to follow the instructions recited by the gps.

When it says that you have reached your destiny, you focus through the Camaro's front window to find the house, looking exactly as he described you one day. Going out of the pilot seat and carrying the medical stuff in your right hand, you go upstairs practically jumping them to hit the door with your palm. A girl with brown hair, big eyes and almost naked welcomes you, pushing her by a side before she can talk.

“Hey, hey! Wait! You ca—”.

Coming into the living room, you finally meet his other family. They were drinking and laughing until you appeared, now staring at you confused. The one who you recognize as El Presidente gets up from his chair, the other two are pointing at you with their guns, warned by the bitch behind you.

“I'm from Tijuana, you can't scare me con una pistolita”. (With a gun). You spit with a strong mexican accent, containing a sarcastic laugh.

“Who are y—”.

“MAAAMI, MAAAAMIIIIIIII”.

Hearing your boyfriend calling you, you don't give them a single chance to let you introduce yourself, running upstairs following the laments of Creeper between moans and pleased begs. Disgusting. Opening the last green red door, you finally reach him. The medical kit falls from your hand shocked. Taking a step, you tour his silhouette lying on the mattress. Being shirtless you can see the bandage covering the bullet hole, with some blood trespassing the cotton, and the sling holding the other. His face isn't much better, with some scratches on his left cheek and his temple. The most disturbing is watching him crying like a scared child, trembling and trying to sit up on the bed.

Before the other mexicans can reach you, you're already kneeling on the bed not knowing where you're allowed to touch him and where not.

“Mami, I missed you”.

“You're an idiot, you know it, rai'?” You ask him with your eyes filled with tears, gently caressing the other cheek, while he nods.

Leaning forward you kiss his shaky lips once and again, before feeling his right arm surrounding your waist.

“Let me see the shot, okay?” Whispering, you get up from the bed to take the medical kit, under the look of the men waiting on the door.

“The doctor put it out, disinfected the wound and stitched it up”. El Presidente says, making you frown your eyebrows.

“The doctor, or the vet?”

“Wha—”.

“Answer before I fucking punch you”.

“The vet”.

Of course, it's not the same. Even the medicines that give you in the MIR are stronger than the ones for a veterinarian. Opening the kit over the bed and wearing a pair of blue gloves, you lean on Creeper to take off the bandage and the gauze, narrowing your eyes to see every stitch on it. It's… acceptable, but you could have done it better. Wetting some cotton with iodine, you clean the blood around the suture with soft moves to not hurt him more. Your boyfriend is assorted on how concentrate you look taking care of him.

“Do you know what you are doing, niña?” The oldest one rests his body against the frame.

“'Amma real doctor, not a veterinarian���. You respond without turning at him, but at your kit to find clean gauzes and an adhesive bandage to cover the sewn hole again. “What happened with the other, Neron?”

“Dislocated”. He just says gulping with parted lips.

“What did they gave you for the pain?”

“Just some pills, mami…”

“How many hours ago?”

“Almost ten”. El Presidente replies in his place, making you twist towards him.

“Okay, Creep', I'm going to prick you some morphine”. He just nods.

Grabbing a needle wrapped on a security plastic, you open it to fill it up with the transparent liquid from a small glass bottle. Hitting it softly with two fingers and letting some of the medicine spill on air, you lead the needle to his bare skin over the wound. Nailing it slowly until the metallic part has disappeared inside it. Then, you push the plastic container until empty. Taking off the needle and keeping it again inside its paper, to throw it later, you close the medical kit.

“You need to rest, okay?”

“Mami, stay with me, please… Don' go”. He begs you crying low and holding your hand as strong as he can.

“You need to rest”. You repeat raising both eyebrows and nodding with your chin one time, caressing his grip with your fingers. “I will talk with your friends for a moment. Ain't going anywhere, mi flaquito. Not without you”.

“I love you, mama. I really do”.

“I love you too, Creep'”. Smirking at your boyfriend, you kiss him again having a little more of caring to not hurt him. “Sleep, flaquito”.

Placing the medical kit over a desk, you leave him closing the door, killing with your eyes the men in front of you.

“I'm hungry, so you better find me some dinner”.

“First, tell us who you are, because he's high enough to confuse himself and believe that he's the fucking Messiah”.

“I'm his girlfriend, pendejo. And you're gonna be a dead man if you don't bring me my fucking dinner”.

El Presidente chuckles rubbing his chin, before nodding, seeing you disappear through the opened door again. Coming back to the bed, you can notice that your boyfriend isn't crying anymore, smiling like an idiot. Sighing you lie down by his side, wrapping his body with both arms, letting him find a comfortable posture under them. You can feel his lips kissing your right forearm somewhat sleepy, purring like a cat. Definitely, he's too high.

“Mami, I love you…” He whispers when you begin to caress his neck with your fingertips. “You are the love of my life…”

“Yeah, you already said it… like a lot of times”. You laugh softly, turning towards you with a soft grimace of pain on his face.

“Love you it's my favorite thing”. He mumbles stunned because of the smile on your lips.

“Mine too, babe. I love you more than anything”.

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[bo0zey]

Pick your favorite questions from the list.

i will do them all for u 0.o

1. Name cianna [see-ah-nah]

2. Nationality mexican irish german romanian hungarian french

3. Age 20

4. Birthday december 17, 1999

5. Zodiac sign (or your primal zodiac sign) sun: sagittarius; ascendant: leo; moon: aries

6. Gender female

7. Sexuality uhhhhhhhhhhhh idk but i will willingly kiss either gender

8. Your looks (add a picture or describe yourself) /tagged/my-face or u could just google pictures of fat rats

9. What do you/did you study? I’m currently a sophomore nursing major!

10. What's your current job like?/What job would you like to have? I’m currently a microbiology TA and I love it :) My dream job would be something with animals, like a vet tech or veterinarian

11. Your birth order i’m the oldest!

12. How many siblings do you have? 2 younger brothers

13. Do you have good relations with your family? my mom was my best friend, my dad and i get along better now that i’m in college, my brothers and i get along pretty well & we’re staring to get closer now that they’re getting older n growing up n developing their own personalities lol

14. How many friends do you have? errrr idk this is a hard question. i have a lot of acquaintances but i’d say i have maybe like less than 10 real friends??

15. Your relationship status single :D

16. What do you look for in a SO? funny!!!!!!!!!must be humorous!!!!and sarcastic and a little weird w darker sense of humor so we can laugh n be dumb together!!!!!!! also i would like them to be kind to me and those around them bc mean ppl suck. also they have to like animals. also i would like them to be loyal and trustworthy and 110% in love w me. and for physical stuff idk kinda attractive but NOT CONVENTIONALLY ATTRACTIVE like i personally don't really like the typically ‘attractive’ person??? 

17. Do you have a crush? currently in love w the cute chinese boy who lives across from my dorm room even tho i have never even spoken to him n he is totally unaware of my existence!!!!!!!! hahah oops :D

18. When did you have your first kiss? i mean technically 3rd grade i think but that doesn't really count so like maybe 16????

19. Do you prefer serious and meaningful relationships or casual dating/one night stands? i mean in the long term i would definitely like to have a serious relationship but at the moment i’m only into casual stuff bc my heart isn't ready to be broken again sknfkjdbnkjd

20. What are your deal breakers? errrr i’m not sure....cheating is a no no, ppl that are interested in fucking every single person they see is a turn off, DUMB PEOPLE like ppl you can't even have a proper conversation with bc they're so DUMB, and ppl who r mean/judgmental/arrogant

21. How was your day? ok! accidentally slept thru my math class but caught a glimpse of my crush across campus when he was abt to smoke a cig and i got chipotle n i online shopped a ton from shein

22. Favourite food & drink deep dish spinach pizza from giordano’s & orange vitamin water

23. What position do you sleep in? i fall asleep on my left side hugging a body pillow

24. What was your last dream about? ate a braid of hair and inside the braid was bacon

25. Your fears not going to make it thru nursing school, not being financially stable as an adult, not having a family of my own, probably more but those r currently top 3

26. Your dreams i don't have any idk....maybe having like a house of my own and having as many animals as i want?? and i would like a loving partner with a daughter of our own

27. Your goals survive nursing school and lose 40 pounds and don't die before my cat

28. Any pets? i have a dog named cherry Cola, a cat named Leto, and a betta fish named Perc

29. What are your hobbies? writing stories about people in love, listening to music

30. Any cool places in your area? in my college town??? NO it sucks. in my hometown??? Not really it’s a small lil village with only restaurants and parks. but at home i’m near downtown chicago so that’s cool i guess

31. What was your last awkward situation? the first thing that comes to mind is my FIRST and so far ONLY encounter with my crush. we live in the same dorm building and i was wearing my nursing scrubs and had no make up on and about to go upstairs to my dorm, and then i heard footsteps and i was like ‘hahaha what if its my crush’ AND THEN HE FUCKIGJNG appeared from down the hallway to go back to HIS DORM [which is RIGHT ACROSS FROM MINE] and i literally STARED at him, then threw open the door and RAN UP THE STAIRS LIKE I LITERALLY DIDNT EVEN HOLD THE DOOR OPEN FOR ME AND HE WAS LIKE SO CLOSE BEHIND ME I WAS JUST SO NERVOUS MY FLIGHT OR FIGHT RESPONSE TOOK OVER AND I FUCKING FLED I LITERALLY RAN AWAY FROM HIM I AHTE MYSELF SO MUCH IM SUCH AN IDIOT!!!!!!!!!

32. What is your last regret? errrrr idk i regret a lot of dumb things.......

33. Language/s you can speak English n a LITTLE bit of Spanish

34. Do you believe in astrological stuff? (Zodiac, tarot, etc.) i’m really into zodiac stuff and i have got to say they are pretty spot on in accuracy idk

35. Have any quirks? ummmm ofc!!i am the quirkiest person i know hajnjfxbkjx like if u asked my roommates/friends they’d probably be better at answering this than me bc i don't see anything abt me as quirky but they always tell me i am quirky and do weird things but idk man I'm just existing 

36. Your pet peeves err idk currently its ppl that constantly brag about dumb shit

37. Ideal vacation somewhere warm with me + the ocean + the loml + unlimited alcohol

38. Any scars? yeah :D both emotional AND physical!!!!

39. What does your last text message say? ‘ok thats a more than fair statement’

40. Last 5 things from your search history how many carbs should i eat, chipotle bowl calories, is the grim reaper the angel of death, ceftriaxone adverse effects, red man syndrome

41. What's your [device] background? lockscreen is a peach-theme background i made and home screen is my weight loss goals

42. What do you daydream about? the characters in my stories.................and being skinny 

43. Describe your dream home pretty brick house??? flowers outside??? 3 floors--main floor, basement and upstairs??? 3 bedrooms n 3 bathrooms maybe??? master bedroom has its own bathroom!!! and open concept main floor. big kitchen and very homey n warm all around. as for like an apartment i want something cozy and aesthetically pleasing and warm 

44. What's your religion/Your thought about religion i don't have a religion but if ppl do have a religion then thats not my business

45. Your personality type entj but only bc i got 3% extraverted; i am very closely related to intj tho n i think i fit that one better

46. The most dangerous thing you've done uhhhhhh probably operating a vehicle while high out of my mind. definitely the dumbest thing i ever did 0/10 would recommend anyone ever doing that

47. Are you happy with your current life? its ok but it could probably be better. i want to be done w college and skip to the part where i have a successful career and my own home and i can lay up w the loml every night

48. Some things you've tried in your life alcohol???weed??gummy edibles....

49. What does your wardrobe consist of? sweaters/sweatshirts/leggings

50. Favourite colour to wear? black, maroon, peach, purple, gray, idk

51. How would you describe your style? oh jeez idk i wear whatever i want so like e-girl when i really try and basic white girl when i don't care

52. Are you happy with your current looks? no i hate everything about myself lol

53. If you could change/add something to your appearance - impossible or not - what would it be? more freckles on my face....also be thinner n have longer hair

54. Any tattoos or piercings? my nose and septum are pierced!

55. Do you get complimented often? kinda by my friends but i always yell at them to stop so they don't compliment like as much bc they know i hate it but they still do it sometimes idk

56. Favourite aesthetic? i wanna be an e-girl yo!!!!!!!!! 

57. A popular trend that you dislike nobody has a crush on me and i hate it

58. Songs you're currently obsessed with? pied piper by BTS

59. Song you normally wouldn't admit you like. anything by BTS lol i used to like be embarrassed for how much i like k pop but now i don't really care lol #stanBTS2020

60. Favourite genre? rap/r n b/alternative

61. Favourite artist/band/genre? i listen to every genre except country sooooooo yeah i really like billie eilish, BTS, the weeknd, juicewrld, lil nas x, trippie red, post malone,

62. Hated popular songs/artists? i don't rlly like selena gomez or justin bieber or taylor swift

63. Put your music on shuffle and list first 5 only - RY X i.f.l.y. - Bazzi novacane - frank ocean jungle - drake bang! - trippie redd

64. Can you sing or play any instruments? no and no

65. Do you like karaoke? no but i like to sing along to songs when I'm alone

66. Own any albums? haha noooo i got apple music son

67. Do you listen to radio? What stations? errr RARELY i used to listen to r n b stations tho

68. Favourite movie/series? idk donnie darko?? i also just finished tharntype n that was really good. also i liked tokyo ghoul. AND GIVEN IS REALLY GOOD

69. Favourite genre of movies/books/etc i like horror/scary/paranormal/funny movies and i like love stories in books

70. Your fictional crush/es danny phantom, ken kaneki

71. Which fictional character is you? uhhhh idk...

72. Are you a shipper? List your otps, if so frerard, ryden, taekook, mewgulf

73. Favourite greek god? idk they all kinda suck but maybe hades

74. A legend from where you live that you like i don't really know any:(

75. Do you like art? What's your favourite work or artist? i like to look at art! i think van gogh is cool

76. Can you share your other social media? ig: ciannnna venmo: ciannnna

77. Favourite youtubers? i don't really watch youtubers but maybe shane dawson and emma chamberlain

78. Favourite platform? twitter

79. How much time do you spend on the internet? too much time

80. What video games have you played? Which one's your favourite? i once played GTA5 that was fun!

81. Your favourite books (manga also counts) idk i don't really read anymore:/ i was into the hunger games and the twilight series when i was young. now i kinda read online manga and i really liked BJ Alex and killing stalking. and like for online books the unholyverse series, a splitting of the mind, the anatomy of a fall

82. Do you play board/card games? no but i like to play checkers and uno and cards against humanity

83. Have you ever been to a night marathon in cinema? nopee

84. Favourite holiday halloween is cool also christmas is alright bc gifts

85. Are you into dramas? i’ve been getting into thai boys love dramas lol sue me

86. Would you use death note, if you had one? um YES.

87. What changes would you make in the world, no matter how impossible, if you had the power to? everyone needs to be a little kinder and have a crush on me

88. Could you survive a zombie apocalypse? absolutely not I'm not physically fit and don't have useful skills

89. If you had to be turned into a paranormal being, what would it be? vampire duh [or maybe ghost]

90. What would you want to happen to you after your death? i want to see my mom

91. If you had to change your name, what would be your pick? idk something cool ... i love the name Daisy

92. Who would you switch your life with for a week? idk probably kylie jenner

93. Pick an emoji to be your tattoo idk the alien? 94. Write 3 things about yourself - only one of them must be true -im very productive with my time management skills -my favorite color is purple -i don't get nervous when I'm alone in public

95. Cold or hot? cold

96. Be a hero or be a villain? anti-hero

97. Sing everything you want to say or rhyme? sing if i’m good at it but if I'm not good then rhyme

98. Shapeshifting or controlling time? shapeshifting

99. Be immortal or be immune to everything aside from natural death?immortal

100. ..... or .....? ......?

[applsauss]

*emerges from the woods like the cryptid I am* hey I heard ship requests and I came as soon as I could. Let's see I'm a lady who enjoys video games and spooky movies, I draw and write in my free time, and spend most of my free time with dogs and cats since I am aiming to be a vet tech. I'm pretty introverted, like wandering around in the woods (even though I get lost), randomly making loud noises, and get pretty touchy with people I know. Hope I included enough and I hope your having a good day!

I ship you with... Shinsou Hitoshi!

     You guys are pretty cute. If you met at UA, then you’d both be in general studies. You’d have a low-key quirk, like sensing heartbeats or being able to sense the locations of arteries and veins. Not everything has to be incredible and flashy and sweep-you-off-your-feet romantic, you know? 

If you didn’t meet him at UA, then maybe you did through a mutual friend, or a friend of a friend. You’ve got no aspirations to be a pro hero, and are going to veterinary school, and Hitoshi is a pro-hero following in Eraserhead’s footsteps, as in he has a strong moral code and is not popular in the slightest. He’s less low-key bitter about it than Aizawa is. 

You’d grow to be friends naturally due to mutual interests, and eventually start thinking that ‘hey, I could see myself dating this person’. Every time you casually touch him after he realizes he has a crush on you, though, he falls in love all over again. 

He wouldn’t actually ask you out. Confess, maybe, if he was pushed and pushed into it, but after confessing his feelings, he wouldn’t expect you to return them. He confessed more as a ‘just get this off my chest i’m sorry if this makes things weird for you’ sort of way. It’s up to you how to respond. 

Date ideas: Wandering around local parks, or staying home and playing dumb co-op games that make you want to pull your hair out. He’d agree to watch a scary movie with you, but he probably wouldn’t be phased by any of it. His reaction to being jumpscared is probably just a low chuckle, which can be a little unnerving if you’re already on edge bc of the movie. He’s def the kid who got WAY too into creepypastas in middle school. 

Also, idk if it’s canon or just fanon, but you working with animals? Heart-eyes, motherfucker. He’d be so damn charmed whenever he sees you being good with an animal. He’d probably drop some cheesy line like ‘You’re the real hero’ at some point in your relationship after you pull a week of all-nighters to nurse a litter of kittens found abandoned behind a convenient store back to life. In the moment, he’d mean it completely. Later, he might feel embarrassed and a little over-dramatic, but the sentiment remains: your work is meaningful. And he probably wouldn’t find it in him to take back what he said.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Thanks for requesting! Ship request spots filled: 5/10

[emilynicoleroberts]

The illusion of timescales

I am the first to admit that even now, I sometimes punish myself for feeling behind in life. Scrolling through Instagram and noticing that people my age or younger are CEO’S of their own company, couples have gotten married or secured their first house, others are travelling the world. The rest, starting a family. 

God, sometimes I even get envious of people who've got their own pets.   

For years as a teenager I wanted to be someone’s girlfriend, I wanted to be that girl that knew from age eight that she was destined to be a vet after playing with Sylvianian Families. 

I wanted to feel put together just because I always felt sub-par. I wouldn't allow myself to be worthy just as myself because my brain told me, and still says sometimes, that you are what you achieve. 

Combine the toxic idea of constant and consistent achieving with an invisible hourglass which I’d created telling me that my time was running short?

 *TADA*

My self induced inferiority complex began. 

At school, I was only just learning how to navigate my disability, how to push myself up hills and get in and out and bed, even though, I still fall now, (don't ask!!)

While my peers were worried about getting a high score on Subway Surfer I was still figuring out how to transfer on and off my sofa. 

Girls were perfecting eyeliner in college and I was trying to figure out how to hold a pair. of straighteners. 

Going on dates? I couldn't even lift my eyes from the floor to talk to boys. 

I was a late bloomer with most things, WHICH IS NORMAL, but I used to be so ashamed of myself for feeling like I was always falling behind.  

Incorrectly, I made myself feel lesser automatically with the warped mentality that life is some type of point scoring system. 

“Oh, but he got his license at 17 and it only took him two months to pass his driving test”

“Oh, but she told everyone in our class that she’s planned out her future already, she’s going to college to study Health and Social Care before doing an access to nursing course”  

"Aren’t you in a relationship yet Emily?” 

“Are you in Uni now? Still living at home?”

My point is this: 

Other people’s achievements are theirs and don't define or dictate your life

Oh, also. 

You are achieving things. Every. Single. Day. 

You are not the person you were yesterday. 

That’s growth. 

That’s improvement.   

Every single day that you get up and choose to participate in life, you are stronger. 

Every single choice you make, you are learning. 

Achievements come in SO many forms, physical, emotional, mental. 

Don’t believe that you have to be the best. Instead, believe me when I tell you that you already are. 

Still don’t believe me?

Think about how badly ‘past you’ wanted to be where you are right now.  

I used to have a list of things I wanted to achieve before I was twenty, before I realised that these *achievements* weren't for ME to celebrate at all. 

Life is more than a tick-list or a conversation starter. 

I passed my driving test at 19 after six months and two theory test attempts. 

And that’s amazing

I never went to university I haven't got a degree. 

Still Amazing

I live with my parents and I haven't found the love of my life. 

But guess what?

I’m happy, *most days* and I’m focused on self growth and trying to uplift others every single day of my life, which is the only achievement I will ever need. 

Life isn't a race, and the only personal best you need to better is your own. 

Don’t let anyone, even yourself, fool you into the illusion of timescales. 

How long it takes you to win the battle doesn't matter, it’s the fact that you keep fighting to declare victory at all

Love, 

Emily Nicole x

[fanficsofmine]

Fight Club Chapter 3

You find yourself at a party one night, alone. You never would have guessed the adventure that it would take you on when you meet a handsome, silver-haired stranger.

Contents: Angst. Smoking.

Read Chapters 1, 2

Reader POV

The next few days of classes made for very little time to reach out to Chanyeol. We exchanged scattered, “hey, can I see you soon,” texts here and there, but, with us studying different majors, our classes overlapped and we were always on complete opposite sides of the campus.

I was interested to see how Yixing would interact with me after the way things had gone over the weekend at the party. I arrived at class that afternoon to find him in his normal seat next to mine. He was heavily focused on what he was writing, and jumped a bit when he lifted his head and saw me next to him.

“You snuck up on me,” he laughed.

I was relieved to see that he seemed to be unphased by the events from Saturday. Perhaps he had just been drunk that night and didn’t remember much of it. I wondered if he was aware that I had spent time with Chanyeol on Sunday. If he was, he did not seem phased by it.

“How was the rest of your weekend?” He closed the textbook that he was copying notes out of and turned his body toward me. He leaned forward and his eyes locked on mine, as if to show his attention was fully targeted on me.

I started unpacking my notebook and pens as I said, “it was good! Yeah, I really enjoyed myself this weekend.” I grinned and felt a blush crawl over my cheeks as I recalled the events a few days earlier with Chanyeol.  I waited to see if he was would pry about what I had done other than attending the party, but he just said, “that’s good to hear!”

We made small talk while waiting for the teacher to arrive and start the class. I wanted to mention him bailing on me at a party that he had invited me to, but I was unsure how to bring it up.

In the midst of our conversation, all of the classroom’s phones let out alert noises. We received an email from our professor that was informing us that he had a family emergency and that class was cancelled. He apologized to us for it being so last minute and gave us an extension on our papers due the next period for another week.

I heard a few sighs of relief, thankful for the extension, and a few groans of frustration. There were several mumblings of, “wasting my time sitting here.”

I, a combination of annoyed and relieved, re-packed my stuff, and when I looked up from my book bag, Yixing had stood faster than me. He had his hand out to assist me to my feet. I nodded and thanked him and allowed him to pull me up.

“Well, since class is cancelled, do you wanna go use this free time to get some coffee with me?” He was still holding my hand in his and his deep eyes were piercing into mine. He had a kind smile on his face, but there was a soft intensity I had not seen on his face before behind it.

I cleared my throat and released his hand to pull my bag over my shoulder. I had wanted Yixing to ask me out for quite some time, but meeting Chanyeol over the weekend sent my desires spiraling in a different direction. Life’s timing was humorous.

“I, um, am probably going to use this grace period to study for the test we have next week, honestly. I’m falling behind,” I hoped that he wouldn’t see through the lie. I had sensed tension between he and Chanyeol at the party, and was uncomfortable with the idea of mentioning him as my reason to not spend time with Yixing.

“Well, would you like to study together? It’s always helped me in the past. I tend to ace tests I study for with you as my unofficial tutor. And coffee will be on me!” His intense gaze softened and he shuffled his feet nervously.

It was the first time I had watched Yixing’s confidence fall, even slightly. I caved in and said, “okay. Let’s go study!”

We made our way to the on campus coffee shop. I settled into a booth and pulled out my textbook again while Yixing made his way over to me with two mugs of coffee.

I raised my mug up to my face with both hands. I watched the steam rise and inhaled the scent of the fresh beverage. I took a small sip and set it down.

“So,” I had made myself built up the courage to mention Saturday, “the girl at the party this weekend, in the kitchen with you, she was very pretty.” I attempted to say it fairly passively while flipping to the chapter we needed to review. I did not want it to seem as though I was jealous, but just making conversation.

"Ah, I was wondering if that was going to come up,” Yixing fiddled with his pen, “ I’m sorry for being a bad host. I had had too much to drink and let my manners escape me. It wasn’t cool of me to do…”

He trailed off and seemed genuinely apologetic. I let him know that it was okay, “no really! It’s fine,” and he thanked me for not being upset with him about it.

"Alright,” he clapped his hands together, “let’s study!”

Chanyeol POV: I was beat to hell. My hours had been occupied by studio time attempting to finish this song for my recording professor. When I was not sitting in a classroom thinking about chords, lyrics, and drum beats, I was actually in the studio attempting to put it all together.

The assignment had been to produce a full song that was on the opposite end of the spectrum of the one we had done previously. Since, “Sing For You,” had been soft, I was aiming for something slightly more gritty and hard-hitting.

I had one jam I was particularly psyched about, and had even convinced a couple of my friends to join in on the track. I was just struggling to finalize it.

Mind you, all of this was completely disregarding the fact that I was still nursing my aching body from my fight against Kyungsoo. Home life was rough, considering we started a brand new bracket from the losers of previous fights vs Newbies to the club. Last night, my friend Jongdae kicked a walk-on’s ass to the point that we had to forcibly pull him off of him. The vets regularly tried to stomp, literally and metaphorically, on new people to show seniority. We tried to tell newcomers not to try to jump into the ring. It never ended well, and now there was a blood stain on my wall I couldn’t get to come off. That was exceptionally irritating. I was not looking forward to trying to explain that to my landlord when it came time to move out. There was no way in hell that Yixing and I would get our security deposits back.

My schedule today was booked, but I had a rare moment where my Lyrics professor let us leave early. I bolted to the campus coffee shop to grab a cup to go before my next appointment in the studio started.

I tipped the barista and moved to the side to put some sugar in my to go cup. It was then that I heard a familiar lighthearted laugh that I had been yearning to hear since Sunday. I whipped around to see her, and to see that she was sitting with none other than Yixing.

I felt my blood boil. He was gliding gentle grazes of his fingers on hers any time that he would point something out in their textbooks. I did not want those hands anywhere near her, let alone touching her. I had seen what they could do to a grown man, and to imagine her skin sharing that same touch infuriated me.

Not that I could be one to talk, of course, especially after what I had done to Kyungsoo recently. I was being a fucking hypocrite and didn’t care in the slightest.

Yixing wanted her as a trophy. I had started to fall for her. I was not going to allow him to take that from me.

I pretended to notice her for the first time as I walked by the booth.

"Hi baby!” I walked up and sat next to her in the booth. I ignored Yixing, although I could feel the daggers from his eyes practically piercing my skin.

"Chanyeol!” She beamed up at me and leaned into me as I put my arm around her. She, too, seemed to momentarily forget that Yixing was there, but then almost immediately remembered and quickly leaned away from my hug.

"Uh, so, I would introduce you both, but I think that you know each other,” she seemed a little bit flustered, and it was insanely cute, to be honest. I saw Yixing’s face soften into a kind smile that I had only seen aimed at beautiful women when she turned back to him.

"Of course I know my own roommate,” he made eye contact with me and asked, “don’t you have lyrics class right now?” He said it as a concerned question, but I could feel the condemnation behind it. I was digging my own grave deeper for our fight later this week, but I would take her over any stupid fight with Yixing any day.

"Wait,” she gasped, “Chanyeol, what happened to your eye? And your cheek? Holy shit, are you okay?” I thought I had hidden that side of my face pretty well from her, but they were also big bruises to try to hide.

"Woah! Yeah, what the hell happened to you?!” Yixing turned my face so that she could fully examine the bruising and cuts along my face.

I glared at Yixing for playing along. I had been attempting to stay busy and put off seeing her until I had healed. I suppose seeing them together made me forego that plan. I had been trying to come up with an excuse for looking the way that I did.

"Ah, it’s nothing. It’s embarrassing, really…” I hurriedly came up with, “I, um, I got jumped while walking home from class the other day. Some asshole trying to get a few bucks out of my wallet.” I caught Yixing slightly nodding at my quickly formulated lie. It was almost as if he was impressed that I would lie to her this quickly. I felt guilt twinge inside my chest, but it was not time to tell her the truth.

I wasn’t sure that there would ever be a time to tell her.

"Jesus, Yeol. Did you report it to the police?” She had taken my face softly in her hands. I made eye contact with her. I saw her eyebrows furrow with concern as she scanned the marks on my face. Truthfully, I was thankful for her thorough examination, as it was an excuse to stare at her. She was so beautiful. I couldn’t help but smile slightly.

"Nah. Just some punk ass kid. Besides, I got a few good swings in. He took off before he even got anything off of me. He should have known better.” I saw that she bought the story and she leaned back in the booth.

"Well,” she put her hand on my knee under the table and said, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

"For sure, buddy,” Yixing reminded us that he was still there, “and if you ever see this dude again, let me know. I got your back. It’s what roommates are for!” I wanted to lay him out. I wanted to make him go away and quit this idiotic charade he was playing over this girl.

"Thanks, guys. But really, I’m okay. I’m actually heading to the studio to work on a song with some friends,” I turned my body away from Yixing and smiled at her, lacing my fingers through hers on my knee, “do you want to come see what we’re working on?”

I gestured back toward Yixing, “oh, I’m sorry. That’s so rude of me. You were in the middle of studying.” I shot Yixing a false apologetic glance. I knew that he would not want to make himself look like the bad guy by refusing to let her go.

Just as I suspected, he said, “oh! No worries. I actually have to get to my next class anyway. This professor actually takes attendance, so I have to show up. I didn’t realize that we had been here as long as we had.”

We all stood up and Yixing wedged his way between her and myself. He leaned in and gave her a hug, slowly slinking his hands around her back. With her back to me, he was able to throw one last nasty look my way before releasing her and softening his eyes again.

"Thanks for helping me study! Let’s do this again very soon, please,” he grinned at her before patting me aggressively on my shoulder that he knew was still slightly sore and said, “see you at home, Yeolie.”

I felt a wave of relief as he walked off, even with my shoulder stinging. I watched him leave, and then turned to my much more pleasant company and let a full grin stretch across my face.

"Ready to go?”

Reader POV: Chanyeol and Yixing’s interaction had been rather off-putting. They were roommates and put on a facade of being friends, but I saw through that immediately. There was tension, and I was uncomfortable that they seemed to think I was dumb enough to not notice.

"Chanyeol,” I said his name while we were walking toward the Music Department building. He had locked our pinkies like we had done the first night we met.

"Why did it seem like things weren’t fully okay between you and Yixing?” I looked up at him and saw his face fall.

"Ah, so you were able to tell, then,” he seemed disheartened that their sub-par acting skills had failed. He stopped walking, ran his hand along the back of his head and began to explain, “Yixing and I have been best friends since middle school. He, however, has had a superiority complex for as long as we have known each other.

"Yixing and I had a typical roommate fight earlier last week, and things haven’t been fully repaired between us. We’ll be fine, though. This isn’t the first fight that we have ever had, nor will it be the last, I’m sure.”

That made me feel better. Roommate squabbles were common, and it sounded like the fight had happened before I had met Chanyeol. There was some relief in knowing that I was not the cause of their dispute, and I felt silly for being vain enough to think that.

Chanyeol opened the studio door and I saw two other men in the room. One with bright, fire engine red hair who introduced himself as Baekhyun. The other tall, like Chanyeol with dark hair and a deep gaze. His name was Sehun.

"What’s today’s project?” I sat on the couch in the recording studio across from Chanyeol who had sat in the rolling chair that we had utilized for other purposes a few days before. I smirked to myself. It was kind of fun having a secret like that in the room. I wondered if Chanyeol had the same thought as he shared a similar half smile my direction when he sat in the chair.

"We are working on a super cool song,” Baekhyun told me.

"It’s just missing a couple of different things, we just can’t place what exactly it is that’s missing,” Sehun stepped in.

"Baek is doing vocals and Sehun and I split a rap in it. We are gonna record the audio tonight to lay it down over the base beat line but I’m not sure how great it will sound…” Chanyeol’s face twisted into a frustrated glance as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees and hands over his mouth.

I raised an eyebrow, “you guys rap, huh? Is this like, ‘my mixtape is fire,’ rap or ‘actually good rap?’”

Baekhyun laughed and said, “I guess you’ll have to let them know when we lay the track. But first things first…” He pulled a joint out of his pocket and said, “shall we get the creative juices flowing?”

"On campus, huh? We have some rebels over here.” I scoffed at them when they accused me of being afraid of being caught.

I took the joint from Baekhyun and took a long drag off of it. I inhaled deeply, closed my eyes, held it in my chest for a few seconds, and then let the smoke cascade out of my mouth like an upward moving waterfall.

"Fuck. That’s hot,” I heard Sehun whisper, followed immediately by, “ow. Sorry Yeol, but can you blame me?”

I opened my eyes to see the three men staring at me, looks of being impressing stamped on all three faces.

"What? You’re not some stereotype that has dibs on smoking because of your artsy majors, yknow? I know how to smoke a joint.” I took one more hit and passed it to Sehun, who grinned and took a drawn out hit.

After we had THC flowing through our systems, Chanyeol had Baekhyun up for his vocals. He put on the headphones provided, approached the microphone, and told Chanyeol to hit play on the backup track.

Although I was unable to hear the music, I noticed how different this song was from the last song Chanyeol had written. The words “I’m creeping in your heart, babe,” and “you call me monster,” were much darker than, “I’ll sing for you.”

When he was back on our side of the glass, I looked at Baekhyun and made sure to praise him; “Your voice is insanely cool!”

"Are you flirting with me,” followed by a wink was his response. When Chanyeol clicked his tongue with a “tsk,” noise and rolled his eyes, Baekhyun said, “oh my god. I’m obviously kidding.”

He flopped next to me on the couch and nudged me. He leaned in and whispered, “Yeol only gets jealous at comments when he really cares for someone. I haven’t seen him develop actual feelings for anyone in a while. I don’t know how much you know about him, but be careful, and know that if he falls in love with you, he’s going to give his all to make it work.”

"What do you mean by, ‘be careful,’ though?” I hoped that I was not just being dense because my mindset was slightly altered.

Baekhyun didn’t get a chance to say anything else. Chanyeol called him up to the soundboard so that he could run it. Chanyeol and Sehun both stepped into the booth and took turns rapping, to my surprise, very well. I was anxious to hear the track with the music.

Sehun finished recording the line “that’s right, my type” for an interjection in the middle of the song, and they emerged from the recording booth, looking very satisfied.

Chanyeol spent the next several hours at the soundboard pushing buttons, clicking and dragging things on a compute screen, and not focusing on anything else. Occasionally he would let out a groan or a jovial noise of success.

We were all painstakingly curious to see if he would finish the song, so we stuck around while he worked.

Finally, Chanyeol let out a cheer and shouted, “I’ve got it! It fits. It sounds perfect!” He turned to us, looking like a proud puppy awaiting a treat. He unplugged his headset and pressed “play” on the computer.

Mechanical whirring noises started the song. They filled the background as beats overlapped and Baekhyun’s voice sang out, “she got me going crazy…”

I watched the three men hype up as the best built. When the rap verses ended and the line “you can call me monster” rang out over silence before the music folding back in full force, there was a loud, “ooooohhhhh!” from Sehun and Baekhyun.

The song ended and Sehun pat Chanyeol on the back, “what made you think of the robot whirring noises? That was what it needed! The perfect fucking touch!”

"Dude, the song is bad ass,” Baekhyun grabbed Chanyeol by the shoulders and he winced as if he was in a bit of pain from it.

Finally, he turned to me, still grinning from ear to ear, and simply asked, “so, are you gonna make me crazy by waiting for what you thought of it?!”

I shrugged my shoulders and murmured, “it was okay.” I saw all three of their faces and shoulders drop in disappointment.

"Damn, I’m joking! The song fucking rocks!” I saw Baekhyun roll his eyes and Sehun laugh. Chanyeol stood up and walked over to the couch I was sitting on and flopped down, laying his head in my lap. I absentmindedly fiddled with his curls.

"Thanks, jagiya. We’ve been working really hard. I can’t believe it’s finished. I didn’t think I was going to make it by the deadline this week.”

"I have an idea,” Baekhyun exclaimed loudly and clapped his hands together, “let’s go out celebrate!”

Much to his disappointment, we all declined.

"I have an 8 am and still have a mountain of homework to do before I even think about going to bed. Going out sounds like a huge bad decision. Sorry, man,” Sehun started packing up his bags and asked Chanyeol if he still needed him there before saying goodbye and walking out the door.

"Yeol. Dude. We have to do something to rejoice in the completion of this project,” Baekhyun threw his arms over his head.

"Baek, I need whatever energy drink you had injected into your veins. I am washed out from working so hard on this,” he raised his eyes and looked at me, “unless you wanna go. I could muster up some form of energy.”

I shook my head, “I think I’m going to try to call it an early night. I have a paper I got an extension for that I should probably actually start.”

Baekhyun groaned and conceded, “fiiiiiiiiine. But you guys suck.”

We laughed and apologized for being, “oh so lame,” and all walked out of the studio together. Baekhyun waved goodbye and headed in the direction of the other set of dorms on the opposite end of campus.

"Can I walk you back to your room,” Chanyeol snaked his arms around my waist and pulled me close. I bounced up to my tiptoes and planted a light kiss on his lips.

"What was that for,” he asked, surprised.

"For showing me this part of you. For being so much fun to be around. Just, thanks for inviting me today. I was nervous that you didn’t want to see me again…” My voice grew small as I trailed off.

"Of course I wanted to see you again! I just,” he let go of one side of me and rubbed the back of his head. My body missed where his hand had been already.

"I didn’t want you to see me beat up like this,” he shrugged and continued, “but I absolutely wanted to see you again. I enjoy every second with you. Please never feel that way again.”

His hand left the back of his head and found my cheek. His thumb ran along my cheek bone and I buried my face into his hand more. I looked up at him and let a small smile spread across my face. That put me at ease.

"Wanna go grab dinner from the dining hall to go and hang out with me while I type a paper in my room?” I was silently pleading with him to say yes. I desperately wanted more time with Chanyeol.

He nodded and laced his fingers in mine as we started to walk.

When we got to my dorm, meals in hand, I sat at my desk and opened my laptop. Chanyeol sat on my bed and opened his to-go box. We ate and talked as I typed out several paragraphs.

After a couple of hours, Chanyeol’s responses started becoming shorter and shorter. I looked up from my laptop to see that he had laid down, arms tucked behind his head, and that his eyes were closed.

"Are you falling asleep on me right now?!” I leaned over and grabbed one of my throw pillows and tossed it at him. He jumped slightly and yawned.

"Come here,” he whispered gently, “you’ve been working long enough. We have both worked hard tonight.” He stretched his arms out toward me and made grabbing motions with his hands.

I chuckled at the sleepy grown man on my bed acting like a toddler reaching for a teddy bear. I saved my work on my laptop and crawled next to him. I laid on my side, facing him with my head tucked onto his shoulder. His arm instinctively grabbed onto me and pulled me closer. I wrapped my arm around his waist and gave a little squeeze. It had been a long time since I had been held like this. I had missed the feeling, and it had never felt as perfectly fitting as it did with Chanyeol right now.

He let out a sigh of satisfaction and pressed his cheek against my forehead.

I was on the border of asleep and awake when he whispered, “can I ask you something?”

"Mmmm,” was all I was able to get out in my sleepy state.

"Do you feel safe with me?” The question seemed unexpected. I was curious as to what was playing through his mind to make him ask such a thing.

Being as exhausted as I was, however, I simply managed to say, “of course.” I made a mental note to ask him why he had asked that in the morning.

He kissed my forehead and followed it with, “good night, beautiful.”

I took one more deep breath and drifted to sleep in his arms.

End chapter 3.

[rogha]

Cryptid

Whose ready for resbang 2016? Not this chick really, but I mostly did it. Thanks to Caitlin for assuring me it mostly made sense, the mods for everything they do to make this event possible, Amanda and sigsegv for art that is far better than I deserve! Onwards to the fic.

No thanks to my device for making posting this fic on any platform I could get my hands on a Herculean task like fight me FanFiction.net and fight me tumblr mobile for not letting me italicise or bold anything your killing my aesthetic I’m too tired for this I need a mug of hot chocolate. This is neither the first nor the last time I will cry over resbang and it going a little pear shaped on me but it’s here so please do forgive me for the disappointing aesthetic.

-

-

“If you aren’t going to make any friends, you’d better get a dog.”

Wes was the entire continental US away, but Soul could feel the brotherly concern radiating from the phone. They’ve had this conversation every day for the past six months, and it’s gotten more and more depressing each day. It wasn’t like Soul was actively avoiding the pursuit of happiness, but every other friend he’d had in his life he either made when he was five or drunk, and he’s pretty sure you couldn’t just ask someone if they wanted to be friends outside of those situations.

And all of those friends live on the same side of the US as Wes – the far one. None of them moved to the Seattle area for work to work for a up-and-coming record company. Admittedly, it’s an oddly specific situation, but Soul wouldn’t lie about the fact none of them did it.

“Fine,” Soul sighed loudly over the phone, enough that his brother could definitely hear it. “I’ll get a dog, if I find one I like.”

“That’s what you said about making friends, little brother.”

-

And that was the story of how Soul ended up at the front desk of the local (relatively speaking) no kill animal shelter, trying to get a tiny blonde worker to look up from her huge textbook. He’d already dinged the bell like four times, with measured thirty second intervals. What’s the next step? He was wracking his brains over here – did he yank out one her dubstep blasting earphones? Reach over a tap her gently on the shoulder? Wave a hand in front of her face? He didn’t know, but he’s already been standing here like a dumbass for two minutes and it was only getting worse the more time passes.

He tried coughing a couple of times. Loud, hacking coughs.

It did nothing.

He steeled himself, down to his gut, reached over and tapped her shoulder. She started and jumped back, falling into a self-defence pose. Her expression betrayed no fear, no mercy, only cold hard determination to whup him. This girl could kick his ass. He raised his hands in surrender, one day he would get beaten up by a tiny girl, but today was not that day.

“Oh, sorry!” She cringed, and put her tiny, dangerous fists away. “You scared me.”

“Does that happen often?”

“Oh, all the time,” she shrugged like it was no big deal. “How can I help you?”

“My brother thinks I should get a dog.”

“Do you want a dog?” she asked, squinting suspiciously. He supposed that was fair. You couldn’t just go about giving away dogs to people who didn’t really want dogs.

Soul didn’t answer that for a second.

“He knows me better than I know myself.”

Way to start and finish a DMC with the cute girl manning the animal shelter. Way too make it way too personal and weird in a single sentence. Great job, Soul. That was really endearing.

He stopped freaking out about it when he saw the dogs, and starts freaking out about something else entirely. Namely, the dogs. There’s so many of them and he wants them all. They’re all the right dog.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” The cute girl asked, and Soul made a go of reading her name tag, but it might as well be a twisted strand of spaghetti for all he could read it. She reached through the bars to scratch the ears of the biggest dog Soul had ever seen. Despite his huge size, he’s also the droopiest dog Soul has ever seen. It’s almost like looking at a liquid puddle of dog.

“Not sure,” Soul squatted down for a closer look at Big AF Dog, who growled low in his throat at the proximity.

With Soul’s luck, the poor sap would’ve melted within an hour of bringing him home. And judging by the way he was licking that girl’s fingers and thumping his tail in a steady rhythm against the gate, he was perfectly happy. Also, he had growled when Soul tried to go in for a closer look.

Okay. Not that one.

One dog down, about a hundred to go.

-

Puppies.

So many puppies.

And he was just. On the ground. In a happy pile of puppies, squirming around, walking like lizards, bouncing off each other. There were so many of them, wriggling into and over his lap.

“How do you not spend your whole time in here?” Soul lifted a puppy to inspect its little fat puppy belly. “Look at this. He’s so small.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you understand. There has never been a puppy this small in the entire world,” Soul insisted, offering the girl the puppy. “He is the smallest.”

“There’s literally six puppies in here that are smaller than him.”

“Impossible,” Soul was overcome with disbelief. He shook his head. There was no way. The girl laughed at him, gently lifting an even smaller puppy than the one Soul was holding as evidence.

“Oh.”

She nodded, smiling softly as the puppy wriggled free and waddled away.

Soul’s eyes caught on a puppy, which while not the smallest, was still pretty small. She was stumbling around, nosing her way slowly around the room, without interacting with any of the other puppies. A puppy without any friends? Soul could relate. He reached over and grabbed her, adjusting his grip to lift her over to his lap.

“Poor baby,” the girl said. “She’s blind.”

“What type of dog is she?” The puppy started snuffling at his fingers, licking them and trying to bat at them when he wriggled them.

“In here? She could be anything,” she gestured, and he reluctantly handed the puppy over for inspection. “Probably a husky mix? I have no idea.”

“I think that’s my puppy.”

The girl smiled at him, and it almost hid the dark circles under her eyes.

-

Of course, you couldn’t just bring home a puppy. It had to be weaned first, and Soul marked off on his calendar the day he would be able to bring his puppy home, and waited.

Impatiently, while making a list of possible puppy names. It was a tough choice, and there were a lot of iconic ladies he could name his puppy after.

And it wasn’t even his home, really. It was his great aunt’s. He just lived there.

His great aunt wasn’t dead, and even she hadn’t even stepped inside the house in five years, but Soul would be in big trouble if she found out that he moved her extensive collection of smiling ceramic children. He wasn’t even allowed to take out the stair-lift. Soul didn’t want to blame anyone for his relative solitude, but how was anyone supposed to have a few friends over to their great-aunt’s museum home?

Like you weren’t supposed to hope your relatives died but Great Auntie Meredith was a hundred and three and she had lived in a nursing home for the last decade.

Admittedly, the stair lift was pretty good at carrying heavy baskets of laundry up the stairs.

-

LIST OF NAMES FOR BLIND PUPPY:

Stevie (Wonder. Self Explanatory.(they’re both blind.))

Arya (She’s badass. (also, was blind for a while there.))

Beyoncé (Insult? Compliment? How does Beyoncé feel about being my dog’s namesake.)

Shakira (She was a giraffe in that one film. She’s probably okay with this.)

Leslie (Knope AND Jones)

Lin (It may have swept the Tonies? Tonys? but Hamilton could always use more accolades.)

Rock Lee?

-

“Alright Soul,” It was the same girl, hair slung in low pigtails this time, but the same dead dark bags under her bright green eyes. “Here she is!”

She was bigger than Soul remembered, but then he realised she was bigger. She was a puppy. She had growing to do. She was going to be big and strong.

“What’s her name?”

“I’m not sure yet – but I think I might call her Shakira.”

“Like the-“

“Oh, you know I am on tonight, my hips don’t lie and I am starting to feel it’s right-“ Soul cleared his throat and blushed, looking away. “Yeah. That Shakira.”

“You have such a wonderful voice!” the girl leaned right over the counter, to hear him better, “If I could sing like that do you think I’d be studying Veterinary?”

“I’m not studying Veterinary,” Soul cringed.

“Oh. I kind of forgot that there are people in this world who don’t go to veterinary college,” she shook her head to clear it. “I live in a world where everyone is studying to be a vet. Can you tell me what it’s like outside? Do they still have pumpkin spice lattes?”

“It’s January.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You missed pumpkin spice season.”

Soul put Shakira (the name was already sticking dammit) into the cat carrier he’d found under his great- aunt’s stairs. She’d outgrow it eventually, but hopefully not before he got her home.

“Okay, she has all her shots, and you already paid the adoption fee and brought the license,” the girl behind the desk check these off on her fingers. “And she got chipped earlier today – don’t worry, it’s covered in the adoption fee – so I’m just going to log on and register you as her owner on the microchip server.”

“You hear that Shakira, I’m going to be able to find you wherever you go? There’s no escape,” Soul poked his fingers through the bars and Shakira started gnawing on them. Affectionately, but those teeth were sharp.

“That’s not how a microchip works,” the girl squinted at him. “You know that, right?”

“Yes, but why don’t you tell me, just so I know that you know,” Soul grinned toothily, which was something he normally avoided and scratched the back of his neck ruefully.

-

“Oh, and If you have any more questions my number is on the bottom there – don’t hesitate to call me okay!”

-

Shakira was doing fine, she was packing away the puppy chow, and doing her best not to leave little gifts everywhere. As dogs went, she was great. A perfect puppy.

He couldn’t ask for a better dog, really.

And all that meant that there was no reason to call the number scrawled on the bottom of the comprehensive list of ‘How To Keep A Puppy Alive And Well’. She probably gave that number to everyone who needed help, printing ��Maka (from the animal shelter)’ in her neat ‘I take notes that other people can actually read’ handwriting. It didn’t mean anything.

But at least that solved the whole problem with the name, which was a definite plus.

Yeah, okay, having a cumulative couple of hours of conversation with a girl and neglecting to find out her name was Not Cool, but like. Too much time had passed. How was he supposed to have brought it up?

Thankfully, she solved the whole problem before Soul even thought about freaking out about it.

Like, he was sure it was a little early to project an idealized version of humanity on her but damn she wasn’t making it easy. One more small act of kindness and she was definitely going up on that pedestal he had around here somewhere.

Just sayin’.

-

“Hey Maka? It’s, uh, Soul?” He cringed, and was tempted to hang up and ignore the inevitable ‘oh I think we got disconnected’ call.

“Oh, I remember you! You adopted that adorable little blind puppy!”

Shakira was adorable. And blind. Even if she wasn’t so little anymore.

“Yeah, uh, Shakira. Anyway…”

“Yes?” Maka prompted. “Is she okay?”

“She’s great- do you, uh, know how to train a dog to get into a chair?”

-

Maka Albarn:

Where do you live, by the way?

Soul Evans:

do u have a car ill draw you a map

but basically

get real lost

then get more lost

then even loster than that

and then

my house will emerge from the fog like a bad idea in a fairytale

-

According to everything Soul knew about dogs, and the literary masterpiece, Holes, carrying Shakira upstairs everyday so that she could sleep on the foot of his bed like a hairy hot-water bottle, was supposed to be something he could do indefinitely, as long as he did it every day. And he had done it every day. But today was the day, and it was a day that had come much sooner than he expected, that he could not carry Shakira up the stairs.

Maybe dogs grow faster than pigs, who knew?

Not Soul for damn sure. Maybe the veterinary student. Please god the veterinary student.

Soul had grown remarkable dependant on his dog shaped hot-water bottle. Shakira needed to be able to get up the stairs and she couldn’t walk up them. She just couldn’t do it. She could barely manage the single step up into the house from the garden and he had to gently encourage her for at least five minutes before she endeavoured upon the step.

The actual stairs had like. Twenty times as many steps.

The doorbell rang, and Shakira sprinted for cover.

She was not a great guard dog.

She had other talents.

The doorbell rang again, and Soul could hear Shakira digging herself further into the gap between the sofa and the wall. He should go answer that.

“Soul?” Maka said. “Oh hi! I thought for a minute I had the wrong house.”

“Nope. This is me,” Soul stepped back to let her in. “Make yourself at home.”

Soul was used to the elderly woman nature of his home. In fact, it had really grown on him as an aesthetic. But from an outside perspective, he could see why it might cause someone’s eyes to widen and for them to stutter a little bit before saying: “You have a lovely home!”

“I’m housesitting?” Soul tried, awkwardly, trying to block as many smiling ceramic children from view as possible with his body. “Sort of.”

“Sort of? How are you sort of house sitting?” She looked incredulous, like she couldn’t believe someone might only be ‘sort of house sitting’. “Where’s the puppy?”

Soul decided to answer the easier question, because he was afraid that his grand-aunt might bust through the door any minute and demand her vacate the premises so that she can die at home in peace and comfort.

“Hiding – can I get you a drink? Water? Yellow pack Cola? Water?” Soul said. He didn’t have a lot of options, but at least he was trying to be a good host. That had to count for something.

Right?

“No, I’m alright… seriously though, where’s the puppy?”

-

“So you want me to train-“

“To help me train.”

“To help you train this dog to get into this stairlift, because you can’t carry her up the stairs anymore?” Maka said. “Soul. She’s not even that big.”

“She’s really wriggly,” Soul sighed. “And she tries to lick my face and… it’s just a… I just can’t do it anymore. I’m afraid I’m going to drop her.”

Maka nodded, but didn’t look up from the dog she was petting.

“Why don’t you just lift her into the chair?”

-

Walking a blind dog was a slow process. According to Maka – who had not-so subtly googled it before answering firmly-because Shakira didn’t get any visual stimulation it was important to let her sniff anything she wanted to sniff. Within reason. Exceptions include; stranger’s crotches, other people’s food, trash that she might eat.

And people kept doing this thing where they brought their dogs up to like… interact with Shakira, which would probably be fine if she didn’t freak every time someone did it and try sprinting to hide behind his legs and stayed there, shaking. She just… she was shy. Really fucking shy.

It took ten minutes to calm her down enough to go again, normally.

She didn’t like other dogs, and that was just fine with Soul.

He didn’t like other people, he was in no position to judge anyone for their inability to socialize like a normal member of their respective species.

So he needed to walk her when no one else would be walking their dogs.

What was chronic insomnia for, if not for walking your dog at three in the A.M?

-

Very strange people come out at three A.M.

Do not, repeat, do not make eye contact.

Just walk your dog and listen to your demos.

Seriously, do not engage with anyone who is out in the woods at three A.M. on a regular basis.

Especially do not interact with anyone out for a walk in the cemetery at three in morning.

Your dog will not protect you from the edgy teenagers.

-

Shakira spent a lot of the day sleeping – not that he blamed her. She was only a baby, and she had lots of growing still to do. Probably.

He wasn’t sure how big she was supposed to get, that was the trouble with dogs that ‘probably have some husky in them’. But she was packing away the puppy food, and growing like there was no tomorrow.

Soul would love her no matter how big she grew, but this little old lady house was not built for Clifford the big red dog. There were just too many breakables.

-

“Oh, hi Soul!” Maka always sounded so chipper, even though she had literally fallen asleep on the desk in the pound when Soul went by to buy dog food. More than once.

“Hey, it’s um… nevermind- shit-“ Soul fumbled to catch a falling ceramic, barely saving it with the tips of his fingers.

“Are you having trouble with Shakira?”

“No she’s perfect… I was wondering if you wanted to come over and help me pack up all my great aunt’s ceramics’n’stuff, this weekend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry for your loss!”

“She’s not dead yet.”

“Oh, sorry, I mean, ah – Sure thing!”

Soul hung up before he could say anything else stupid or vaguely incriminating.

-

Soul had a stack of newspapers, a couple of large plastic boxes from Walmart and Shakira was settled comfortable on the fancy green velvet couch he wasn’t supposed to put his feet up on in the parlour he was supposed to receive guests in probably.

You win some, you lose some.

The doorbell rang, and Shakira, as had become customary, bounded off the couch and sprinted to hide in the backroom until Soul gave the all clear.

Soul didn’t know why she bothered – the only people who came to the door were either Maka, or delivery people. No one coming to the door was out for his dog. Yet there she was, hiding in the utility room, under as much of Soul’s laundry as possible.

When Soul opened the door, he was greeted by a sackful of packing peanuts – and Maka’s muffled voice.

“Hey Soul!”

“Hey Packing Peanut Fairy,” Soul nodded, “Want me to take those?”

Maka heaved the sack into his arms in lieu of a response and jogged back out to her car to grab something else – Soul dumped the packing peanuts beside his stack of Walmart containers, and Maka met him at the door with another sackful.

“Where did you even get all of these?”

“I have my sources – but you didn’t get them from me.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, no, seriously I was not supposed to take these.”

-

“She really likes you, you know.”

Maka looked down at the Shakira, who was resting her head on her head, tongue lolling and leaving a damp patch in Maka’s jeans.

“I figured – you said she’s pretty shy around other people?”

“Yeah,” Soul nodded a little too quickly, “and other dogs too.”

“Huh.”

Maka looked thoughtfully down at the dog in her lap and scratched behind her ears.

-

Soul held the ladder while Maka carried the Walmart containers- filled with ceramic knickknacks, newspaper and packing peanuts – up into the attic for storage, where they would gather dust until his great aunt either died or moved back in.

Eh, whatever would be, would be, but for the minute Soul was faced with an awful lot of empty display cabinets.

“You don’t collect like, anime figurines or something?”

“Nope,” Soul popped the ‘p’. “Any other ideas?”

“Start collecting anime figurines or something?” Maka shrugged, helping him fold the ladder back up into the attic. “Or those bobbly head things that are, like. Terrifying.”

“Why do you know so much about- you’re a nerd,” Soul gasped. “Do you collect anime figurines?”

“Pfft, no,” Maka blushed, talking fast. “They’re too expensive and I don’t have enough space.”

“You nerd!”

“What kind of people did you think become veterinarians?”

-

There was a sign posted on the corkboard in the library for ‘Doggy Obedience School’, the kind of sign someone made in Word with bad clipart and the text poorly aligned, but Soul took a number anyway.

Shakira (and Soul) could probably use a professional’s help when it came to obedience and training. He wasn’t sure how to train a regular dog, never mind a blind one, but hopefully whoever was running the course was better at training dogs than they were at making posters on Word.

‘Cause they were like, really bad at that.

-

DOGGY OBEDIENCE SCHOOL

Can’t deal with a badly behaved dog?

Whether you’re a first time dog owner or you’ve had more dogs than you can count, we could all use a little help from time to time!

Contact 555-555-555 for our professional help.

Places are limited, so make sure you book now to secure a spot on our next 5 week course.

-

Everyone else at the school was staring at Soul and Shakira, who was hiding behind his legs from all the other dogs. Maka waved from the park bench she had stationed herself at. Apparently, this was too good of an opportunity to miss out on.

“We’ll show her, right? Won’t we Shakira?”

Shakira shoved her nose into the bend of Soul’s knee, causing him to stumble slightly, before reaching around to scratch behind her ears comfortingly.

“Okay – I think – first of all, why don’t we all –“

The small pink haired person, was drowned out by the voice of the much larger, and far more intimidating man with the X-shaped scar across his face. He leaned heavily on them, addressing the amassed crowd.

Seven people, and an equal amount of dogs, by Soul’s count.

“I’m Rac, and this little wimp is Chrona,” Rac said. “Now why don’t ya step up an’ tell us about yer mutt?”

Two people turned and left, delicate sensibilities offended.

Five people, five dogs.

“Pussies,” Rac probably intended to mutter that, but it sounded an awful lot like he was yelling after them.

“Rac, you can’t, it’s rude to-“

“Shut yerself. You,” Rac pointed at an elderly man with an terrier, who jumped at the address. “Tell us about yer dog.”

-

“A husky-shepherd? An’ yer sure that’s what they said at the pound?”

“Yep,” Soul looked down at Shakira.

“An’ she’s blind?” Rac squinted at Soul like he couldn’t believe anyone would be dumb enough to adopt a completely blind dog.

“Rac, Rac-“ Chrona started tugging on Rac’s shirt, vying desperately for his attention.

“Chrona, wouldya shut yer-“ Rac groaned, rolling his eyes. “What?”

“Rac, that looks like a wolf – I don’t know how to deal with that.”

“Shut yer gob – what kind of nonsense? If that’s a wolf, then I’m the Queen of Sheba.”

-

To: ‘Professor Stein: ’

From: ‘Maka Albarn: ’

Subject: Animal Identification

Hi Professor!

Maka Albarn here – I take your Rare Species class – and I have a request, if it’s not too much trouble.

I was hoping you could spare a minute to tell me whether or not the animal in the attached photo is a wolfdog hybrid? It came into the pound I work at and we’re just not sure what it is. I said she might be a one, but that seems so unlikely.

Any information you can offer would be really helpful!

Regards,

Maka Albarn.

ATTACHED (1): shakira.jpg

-

To: ‘Maka Albarn: ’

From: ‘Professor Stein: ’

Subject: Re: Animal Identification.

yup thats a wolf

-

“Do you think we could y’know – release her back into the wild?” Soul didn’t want to bring that up, but he also felt as a responsible pet owner, he had to consider the realities of this fairly absurd situation.

“That’s how you make man eating animals,” Maka said, without looking up from the stack of books she’d taken from the college library.

“Okay. Definitely don’t do that then,” Soul was trawling the internet for resources on raising his pet wolf. “Wait. Can I even keep her as a pet? Legally? What’s going to happen to her if it’s against the law?”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Google it?“

“Maka if I go to jail because you couldn’t recognise a wolf cub when you saw one-“

-

The wolf, Canis lupus, has been classified as an endangered species by the Fish and Wildlife Commission. Private ownership of a wolf requires proof of legal acquisition, health certificate, proper holding facilities. Wolf Hybrids are not classified as wildlife and therefore do not fall within the regulatory authority of the Department of Fish and Wildlife. This does not mean that local jurisdictions may not regulate or prohibit the possession of these animals. Additionally, other state or local agencies may have regulations that apply to the importation or possession of wolves or wolf hybrids.

-

“When we started hanging out I thought I would get all sorts of ‘my friend is a veterinary student’ perks,” Soul grumbled, hunched over his desktop.

“I have plenty of perks,” Maka muttered, before jabbing her finger at the screen. “That’s the one! It’s for people who buy wolf hybrids.”

“Hey, hey, be careful!” Soul swatted her hand away, “Holy shit Maka, you didn’t tell me it’d cost a hundred dollars!” Soul said, the mouse hovering over the ‘add to cart’ button amazon.com.

“I didn’t know!” Maka cringed. “It’s alright, I’m sure there’s another way to find out-“

“Don’t worry about it – and while I’m here…”

-

Mars Veterinary Wisdom Panel 4.0 Breed Identification DNA Test Kit was added to cart!

Wolfdogs A-Z: Behavior, Training & More (Wolf Hybrids) by Nicole Wilde was added to cart!

All the Loving Wolves: Living and Learning With Wolf Hybrids by Jody King and Michael Belshaw was added to cart!

Living with Wolfdogs: An Everyday Guide to a Lifetime Companionship, Second Edition (Wolf Hybrid Education) by Nicole Wilde was added to cart!

Above Reproach: A Guide for Wolf Hybrid Owners by Dorothy Prendergast was added to cart!

Dino Wolf was added to cart!

-

That was a lot of chain link fence. Really, more than Soul ever thought he’d need in his life. Of course, Soul had never really thought about needing chain link fence before in his life. Like, ever. He could honestly say that the thought had never occurred to him.

Yet here they were, trying to install eight foot chain link fence all around the property line – which wasn’t all that small and there was a wooded area.

“Alright – that’s everything we need to make sure she doesn’t escape,” Maka nodded, checking off her list. Shakira didn’t stop licking at the allegedly indestructible chew toy, trying to get the peanut butter out of the hollow core Soul had spooned it into.

“Yeah, she’s a real flight risk,” Soul said. “She can’t even climb the stairs.”

“I know that, but we still have to make sure we have this up. It’s the law – but even still, what if she gets out? She could be shot or hit by a car or-“ Maka looked around at the open edges of the property. “There’s literally nothing keeping her in here. Why hasn’t she-?” Maka gestured helplessly.

“Best guess?” Soul offered, glancing down at Shakira. “There’s no peanut butter in the wilderness.”

-

Maka wasn’t answering. His hands were shaking.

No. That was just his phone vibrating. It was a text.

Maka Albarn:

I can’t answer right now

I’m in class.

Soul Evans:

duck maka theres an envelope from the thing

Maka Albarn:

WAIT what open it open it now

Soul Evans:

i cant im too nervous

Maka Albarn:

I NEED TO KNOW.

Soul Evans:

fine

im opening it now

im doing it real ducking slow to ramp up the tension

reaaaallll slow

Maka Albarn:

I swear to god I’m going to fuck you up if you don’t text me the results immediately.

Soul Evans:

0

shakira is 0 percent a dog

u ducked that one up really badly

i cant believe they let u into vet school

Maka Albarn:

Shut up.

-

Soul should probably tell his brother the truth about Shakira, but like it was one thing to be the family fuck-up by just because generally unimpressive and failing to meet a series of impossible standards, and it was another thing to be the member of the family that managed to fuck up adopting a pet dog this badly.

This never would have happened if he’d bought a dog from a reputable breeder, but no. He had to be all conscientious in his choices and adopt a dog that might’ve otherwise spent her whole life in an animal shelter.

Still, there was nothing like a lovingly handwritten letter to break shocking news gently to your family – especially when it might get lost or take a while to arrive. It would be like telling him, but also, it wouldn’t be his fault if he didn’t actually end up telling him.

So he raided Edie’s fanciest stationary set and wrote a letter on a charmingly old fashioned floral set.

Or maybe just old. It smelt a little mouldy.

-

Wes,

Do you remember when we were kids, and you were obsessed with horses? You’re still obsessed with horses because you’re like, the highest of brows or whatever. So Mom was like ‘I’ll get you a horse Wes’ and she got you Marble, the fanciest motherfucker that ever trotted.

He was a jerk, I don’t care what you say.

Anyway, I complained to Mom, because if you’ll recall I was going through a phase of my own. Remember? I was obsessed with wolves? And I was pissed because Mom wouldn’t get me a pet wolf?

Yeah, well, nine year old Soul would think that today Soul is living the dream.

Soul.

P.S. if that was like, super vague, I got a pet wolf. She’s blind and she’s called Shakira and she’s perfect.

-

Soul’s phone was ringing, and he struggled to extract it from his pocket in time to answer it. It was Maka, and he took a few deep breathe in order to calm himself.

“Soul do you know anyone with a pickup truck?”

“What? Maka – you know I don’t? I don’t know anyone in Seattle,” Soul was baffled. “I’m not even sure what my work colleagues’ names are.”

“You have a job?”

“What-? Yes. Of course I have a job,” Soul held the phone away from his face for a second to squint at it sceptically. Not that Maka could see, but it was the thought that counted. “What did you think I did all day?”

“Listen to music? Sleep? Hang out with your wolf?”

“Nevermind – why do you want a pickup truck?”

“I found a free bathtub. I’m standing in it right now,” Maka said. “So no one else takes it, but I need a pickup truck on the scene stat.”

“Why? What is happening-? Maka, why do you even need a bathtub?”

“Sorry - I need to try calling someone else. I’ll talk to you later though?”

She hung up before he could answer. Soul accidentally googled pick-up truck prices before he could stop himself.

-

When Soul said he worked for a record label, and given his background and family legacy in music, most people assumed he worked as a musician, a producer, a low level grunt trying to work his way through the rank, something intrinsically linked with the music industry.

Soul was an inhouse graphic designer.

And if sometimes, during lunch, he went into the empty recording studio and played a song or two on the very inviting piano that lived there, who was to know any better? It’s not like he was using his job as in to make music.

His fingers just got a little itchy from time to time.

-

Soul had forgotten about the bath tub as much as any human could forget that they had failed in a cute girl’s hour of need. That was until his phone buzzed and flashed, disrupting his flow.

Maka Albarn:

Let us in.

Soul had a vague sense of foreboding, like he was about to be filled with regret. He ignored it, and hit the wall mounted gate opener anyway. His feelings had by and large proven themselves to be treacherous things.

He leaned casually against the door-frame and watched a blue pickup truck roll up his driveway. He could hear the late nineties rap blasting through the rolled down windows. Louder still, he could hear Maka and another male voice yelling the lyrics. They’d better be gifted in other areas, that was all he was saying.

Maka vaulted out the window before the truck stopped moving, in too much of a hurry to think about things like her personal safety and Soul’s nerves. She skidded to a stop in front of him.

“I got the bathtub!” She said, bouncing up on her toes. “It’s in the truck.”

“I can see that,” Soul said, too baffled to maintain his ‘casually cool’ pose in the doorway. “Why is it here though? I already have a bathtub.”

“It’s not for you - it’s for Shakira.”

“Maks, stop flirting an’ get yo’ skinny ass over here and lift!”

“One second Black Star!” She yelled back over her shoulder. “Where do you want us to put it?”

“Put what?” Soul said.

She was already helping a short blue haired man lift an ugly mint green bath off the back of the pick up. At this point, Soul decided that he’d better just roll with the whole bath situation and figure out a place to put it.

-

In the end, Soul’s opinion on the bath didn’t count for anything, because it need to be connected to his water supply. Maka smacked him when he admitted that he had no idea where his water even was and Black Star dug a metal detector out of his truck.

By the time the bath was finally set down, Shakira had mustered up enough courage to try and fit in Soul’s lap while Black Star was fitting with the bath a something he called a ball cock and float valve. Soul recognised the device from inside his toilet cistern, but still had no idea what was happening. When he asked, it turned out Black Star had stolen it from the toilet that was being discarded alongside the bath.

To top it all off, Black Star kept squinting at Soul suspiciously, which was not doing wonders for Soul’s nerves.

“Alright,” Maka said, dusting off her hands and looking at the pair of them. “I’m going to buy a few beers - Soul, gimme your wallet.”

“It’s on the kitchen counter-” Soul replied automatically. “Wait, why am I paying for the beer?”

“You haven’t contributed anything else,” she pointed out, and Black Star snorted from inside the bath. “Besides, we had to turn off the water and you don’t have anything in your fridge.”

Soul couldn’t really argue with that, and she grabbed Black Star’s keys from the jacket he’d abandoned beside the bath. Shakira’s ears perked at the sound of Maka crossing the wooden porch to go through the house, but she calmed down when Soul scratched behind her ears absently.

“Not one scratch Albarn!” He yelled after her, not looking away from his work.

“Oh, like you’d be able to tell!”

On the other side of the house, Soul could hear the truck rumbling to life. Shakira pawed at his hand where he had stopped petting her for like, a second.

Once the coast was clear and the truck had driven off, Black Star sat up quickly, and pointed his wrench at Soul seriously.

“Listen dude, if you hurt her-,” he burst out laughing, and it took a minute before he was able to speak again. “Who am I kidding? She’s going to stomp all over your heart. Commiserations bro, commiserations.”

-

“I got the beer - and pizza!” Maka called, arriving out to the back porch laden down with goodies for everyone. From the sounds that had come from the kitchen and the time she had been gone, Soul could hazard a guess that she’d also done a full grocery shop. America needed to get with chip and pin, pronto.

She had the pizzas carefully balanced with the beer, and she offers Shakira her as of yet indestructible chew toy, packed with enough peanut butter to keep her away from the tempting smell of pepperoni. Shakira got off Soul’s lap in order to gnaw at it away from any possible threats to the peanut butter.

Maka folded her legs down to sit on the ground and trust one of the pizzas in Black Star’s direction like it offended her. Soul flipped open the pizza box and turned to grab a beer but-

“Do you have a bottle opener?”

“Oh, I got it,” Maka took the bottle and… Opened the cap off with her hand?

Soul grabbed the bottle to check that it wasn’t a twist off before asking the only question that came to mind: “What the fuck?”

“Huh?” Maka glanced back over. “I used my Mama’s wedding ring - all it’s good for these days.”

She flashed the ring at him, from where she wore it on her right hand. Black Star made frantic gestures to cease the line of inquiry behind Maka. Soul ignored him and asked her to show him how it was done, handing her another bottle.

“Alright, you just bend your finger over the cap, hook the ring under the lip and…” The lid came off into her hand. “Pop!”

“How did you learn how-”

“My Papa showed me, he said no one should go to college without knowing how to open a bottle without an opener, so he dug the ring out for me.” She shrugged like it was no big deal, but Soul doubted his parents even knew how to open a bottle of beer. His mom was pretty quick with a corkscrew though.

Maka admired the ring from where it sat on her finger.

“Oh, and one more thing, it has to be a hard metal, like steel or platinum.” She tapped the ring with her thumbnail. “It won’t work otherwise.”

“Bro, cause I’m sensing you to be about fifteen steps behind, I’m going to hit you with some serious exposition,” Black Star said, nodding at Maka to crack him open a bottle. “Maks carries a platinum bottle opener on her person at all times ’cause her dad wanted her to make friends. An’cause he wanted them frat bros to think she was hella off the market.”

Maka punched Black Star, not all that lightly, and opened a beer from him anyway.

“Cheers.”

-

When Soul woke up the next morning - somewhere closer to afternoon, actually - he was just a touch hungover, and he had about fifty missed calls from Wes.

He sniffed cautiously at the glass of water he’d left on his bedside table last night. Drunk Soul had a strange habit of leaving a glass of vodka for next day Soul, but Tipsy Soul could be relied upon not to do that, apparently. He could’ve left some aspirins, but hey, baby steps.

Shakira sat up, her tail thumping against Soul’s legs - she’d been up just as late as he had. She plodded across the treacherous landscape of Souls bed to nose at his face, scraping her tongue across his face a handful of times and demanding attention.

When faced with a wolf and a very full container of liquid, there is one incredibly likely outcome.

It was going to spill, and spill it did. All over Soul’s bedsheets. He sagged a little, and reached up to scratch Shakira behind her ears fondly, while he tried to maneuver away from the rapidly spreading puddle in the middle of his bed. She was a good pup really. She just didn’t know her own strength sometimes.

He edged out of the bed, and turned on his phone to listen to his voicemails while he stripped the bed.

-

You have 13 new messages.

Beep.

“Soul, it’s Wes. Tell me the letter is a joke. Tell me it’s a joke. Please. It’s a joke right?”

Beep.

“Soul, mom is gonna freak. Soul. I’m gonna freak.”

Beep.

“SOUL I AM FREAKING OUT. HOW COULD YOU ACCIDENTLY ADOPT A WOLF. Fuck. Answer your goddamn phone, Soul.”

Beep.

“-pickuppickuppickuppickupp… Soul you mothertrucker god fucking dammit- Soul that was not the kind of news you deliver via letter.”

Beep.

“That should not be the kind of news you deliver ever.”

Beep.

“I can’t believe we’re related sometimes.”

Beep.

“Soul, is this for real? Like, seriously? This isn’t a joke right? This shit is for real?”

Beep.

“Shouldn’t you give her to like a professional to rehabilitate? So she can be like, released back into the wild?”

Beep.

“Is this even legal?”

Beep.

“Did you tell Aunt Edie about this, how does she feel about a wolf living in her house? Well, actually she’s fine with you living there, so I guess a wolf can’t actually be that much worse.”

Beep.

“I can’t believe you named her Shakira. There were at least- If you ever have children, someone else should be in charge of naming them. Shakira. God.”

Beep.

“A wolf is for life, not just for Christmas Soul. You know that right?”

Beep.

“Pics or it didn’t happen, little brother.”

Beep.

You have no new messages

-

Soul took a picture of Shakira tangled in the sheets he’d just piled on the floor. She was chewing a hole in his pillowcase, but it wasn’t one of the fancy ones for the top layer of bed, so he’d just patch it later. Or, more likely, toss it and replace it with a similar cream coloured pillowcase

He liked taking photos of her, but he’d been avoiding posting them on his social media ever since the whole “that’s a wolf” debacle first came to fruition. He’d ever gone as far as deleting the photos of her that were up there already.

They were still on his phone.

He wasn’t ashamed or anything, but he was afraid of PETA, and getting a bucket of red paint poured over him. Or whatever it was PETA did to exotic animal owners. Probably burned down their house and set the animals free to like, starve in the wild and kill people.

He sent it to Wes, then went about trying to stretch the slightly too small fitted sheet over his mattress.

-

Soul smiled at the clerk uncomfortably, trying to look like a respectable and responsible wolf owner. She mostly looked tired, and like everything she was dealing with was above her pay-grade. Still, he had his plastic folder of everything the website said he needed to get a license to keep Shakira.

Well, evidence of everything the website said he needed.

The clerk blinked at the stack of photocopied documents that Soul - alright, Maka - had organized into a colour coded system.

The clerk flicked through the sheaf quickly, then scooted down on her wheelie chair to wedge it in an overflowing pigeon hole marked ‘Someone Else’s Problem’. Upon returning, she slid a document receipt to his side of the plexiglass and waved him away.

“That’s it?”

“Have a nice day.”

-

Unknown Number:

wolfwalker

bro is this u bro

please say it aint so bro

ur crushing my dreams

-

Wolfwalker

The Wolfwalker is a demon accompanied by a hellhound that has been spotted walking in the Seattle area in the middle of the night.

This article is a stub. You can help Crytidz Wikia by expanding it.

-

Soul Evans:

did u give black star my number?

Maka Albarn:

No.

You did that all by yourself.

-

Unknown Number saved as Black Star.

Black Star:

Tell me the truth bro

r u the wolfwalker

Soul Evans:

probably

-

Visit Great Aunt Edie day was the weirdest day of Soul’s month, mostly because he wasn’t sure if she didn’t know who he was because of the dementia or because of the fact that he had no recollection of meeting her before he moved out here. He wasn’t even really sure she was his great aunt.

He had a lot of relatives that were very loosely monikered. She was someone’s great aunt, and that meant she was his great aunt.

But still, he figured it was better this way, you didn’t have to know someone to play go fish with them and a handful of other residents (and sometimes small stakes poker, if the nurses weren’t looking).

-

The wikia article- stub - weighed on his shoulders in a way he could never have imagined. There was no doubt that it was him, he could tell by the three hundred dollar headphones that his brother had hot glued some lovingly handcrafted devil horns onto.

Okay, it was only an artist’s impression, but still, he could see exactly what might cause the confusion. Strange looking man, with scary dog, seen walking around Seattle at night. May or may not have devil horns, depending on what headphones went go best with his outfit.

At least his halloween costume next year was checked off the list.

Soul did not consider himself an egotistical person, but he kind of thought that when he finally got a wiki page of his own, it would ya’know. Be about him. Have some stuff on it.

At least be more than a stub, for god’s sake.

He needed to amp up his night walking skills if he wanted to get a bigger article. He added the article to his google alerts and dug out his glasses - the ones without antiglare and the barely there wire rims. He got them free with his contact subscription, and they looked like it.

-

It occurred to Soul while he was walking his usual route(through the cemetery), that he could just edit the wikia article - stub - himself. It was the kind of defeatist idea that occurs to a person when they are walking their pet wolf at three in the A.M. and really wishing that they’d brought their ski jacket.

It was cold out here.

Anyway, how hard would it be to edit the wikia page himself? Not very hard at all, if he knew anything about wikia pages. Hell, Black Star would probably do it for him, seeing as it looked like he had some credibility in the world of cryptids.

But that would be cheating.

Alright, no editing the wikipedia.

And no telling Black Star to edit the wikipedia page.

But tomorrow he was bringing his jacket. It was fucking freezing out here.

-

Soul was the first person to admit to being generally inept when it came to small home repair, so when it came time to, he figured he’d better leave the installation of the dog door to the professionals.

Well, to Black Star, self proclaimed Handi-God.

Hence, Black Star and Maka were in his house again, at least they were here under the guise of work, as opposed to the last couple of times, when they just decided to show up and hang out. Mostly with his wolf, but a little bit with his aswell.

Although Black Star had fixed the Soul’s leaky tap the last time he was here. Unprompted, but appreciated. In fact, every time Black Star came over, he could count on some small repair being made - usually when they were a little drunk and now that he thought about maybe he should get someone to look at those sober.

When they broke.

Now though, he was going to hand Black Star whatever tools he asked for, like some kind of dog-door scrub nurse, while Maka heckled them from where she was supposed to be writing an essay for one of her classes.

-

“Can’t anyone in this fucking building play the fucking piano?”

For most people, this would be considered a Big Break. Soul didn’t want a big break, he just wanted to keep designing t-shirt logos and posters and stylizing typography for album sleeves. So he kept quiet.

“Soul can play.”

Kilik, you piece of shit.

“Can you?”

Soul shrugged, hoping they’d move on to greener, more enthusiastic pastures.

“Great! Robbie got drunk last night and put his fist through a window.”

And just like that, Soul found himself in a recording studio that wasn’t deserted for a change. He’d better get a bonus for this. He wasn’t paid enough to face his demons.

-

Soul had been lenient when it came to giving out or remembering the house phone number, but it did come in a bundle with the wifi, and it was cheaper to have it than not. However, at least when the number flashed across his phone screen, he vaguely recognised it.

Well.

It flashed under the headline Aunt Edie’s Landline.

It was pretty fucked up, if you asked Soul, to answer a phone call from a number that was supposed to be yours, and you weren’t the one doing the ringing.

“Soul Evans speaking,” Soul started, cautiously, “Who, may I ask, is call-”

“Bruh, your telephone voice is whack - do you always answer the phone like that?”

“What are you doing in my house Black Star?” Soul asked. “How did you even get in?”

“Dude, you gave Maka a thing to open the gate.”

“And you thought you would just take it?” Soul was baffled.

“You really think I would do that bro? You’ve wounded me bro. Real deep. I dunno if your friendship can recover-” He was cut of by the sound of a scuffle.

“He absolutely would do that,” Maka said, having evidently emerged victorious from the battle for the receiver. “He didn’t this time, but it is not outside the realms of possibility.”

“Oh,” Soul said. “Hey Maka.”

“Hi Soul!”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why are you and Black Star in my house?” Soul asked. “Like. If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Oh, right well we got you a dog, and I’m moving in,” Maka said. “Although if it makes you feel better, I got a dog and we’re moving in.”

Soul hung up.

-

Befriending, or rather, being befriended by Maka and Black Star was something akin to learning to roll with the punches, both literally and figuratively. They had very different ways of showing affection than he did.

He wasn’t sure his upper arm was every going to be the same again, to be honest.

Still, when he pulled in to park beside Black Star’s truck, it occurred to him that he should make sure that he wasn’t being indoctrinated to some kind of very inefficient, mid-nineties hip-hop worshipping cult. Especially since he could see Black Star on the roof, repairing the exact buckled shingle that had been leaking water into the upstairs bathroom.

That’s what cults did. They made you feel warm and welcome and they solved all your problems then they stole your money and your organs. Probably.

Maka climbed out the living room window to greet him, in too much of a hurry to walk the five or so yards to the front door and exit that way.

“Sorry about this, down Herc-” what must’ve been Maka’s dog, but looked an awful lot like a small horse whose skin hung in heavy folds, climbed through the window after her, and transitioned into a more liquid form of dog at her feet, growling at Soul- “Professor Stein held me back after class today, Shakira needs a friend, basically.”

“I’m her friend!” Soul said. “Am I not good enough or something?”

“No,” Maka said. “You’re not. So I adopted Herc, the biggest dog we have-”

“Who doesn’t like me?”

“He doesn’t like men in general, don’t take it personally,” She said, rubbing her toe over Herc’s spine to reassure him. Soul recognised him now, Herc was the first dog that Soul’d met in the shelter. “It happens when we get dogs from homes with… with domestic abuse histories.”

Soul squatted in front of ‘Herc’ who was still growling, and made soothing noises in the back of his throat. He held out his hand, palm out for Herc to sniff at cautiously. Both of them looked up at Maka, at least until Soul got bowled over by Shakira.

This was a common enough occurrence that it didn’t even phase their conversation, which continued with Shakira sitting on Soul’s chest and scraping her raspy tongue over Soul’s face. He was going to get beard burn if he wasn’t careful, and it wouldn’t even be the first time.

“Anyway, my lease is up and my roommate is moving in with his boyfriend, for whatever dumb reason,” she raised her voice, and Soul got the distinct impression that she was aiming this at a third party.

“We’re in love, Maks, and it’s a natural progression of the relationship, so you can suck it,” Black Star’s voice drifted from the roof. “‘Sides, you introduced us.”

Soul rolled out from under Shakira and went inside to google how much he should charge for rent and how to tell if he was in a cult. They’d be bickering until they got bored or hungry.

“I didn’t introduce you - you broke in and I wasn’t home!”

“Tomayto, tomato.”

-

It turned out that living with Maka wasn’t that much different from not living with her. Sure there was an extra dog, but she’d spent a lot of time hanging around anyway, with or without Black Star.

The only real difference was that more friends started drifting into his life - mostly they were visiting Maka, Shakira or Hercules, but he nodded at them when they came through. Sometimes he even offered them coffee.

His mom would find his hosting skills abysmal but it’s not like he can bring any more shame to the family name than he already has.

There was Kidd, Black Star’s boyfriend and Maka’s former roommate.

“What are you doing?”

“Clearing out your pantry - this tin of peaches went out of date five years ago!” He waved the offending tin in Soul’s direction.

“Where’s Black Star?”

“He noticed a window that was painted shut, you know how he gets.”

Oh yeah. Those two were perfect for each other.

“Alright, as long as you’re having fun.”

Two sisters who ran a social media make-up guru empire, with the occasional venture into their unnerving and incredible sharpshooting prowess. They had their own cosmetics line, Demon Pistol, and insisted on bringing it over to make-over Maka.

Liz and Patti, the Thompson sisters.

Maka normally didn’t fight them on the make-overs, seeming somewhat resigned to them as a consequence of acquaintance.

Although, they often fought over the best approach to style their guinea pig.

“Look up.”

“Look down.”

“No, I think the Immoral Coral lip could be fun!”

Soul didn’t have anything better to do, so he sat down next to them.

“I’ll have what she’s having,” he said, cocking his head in Maka’s direction. The sister’s looked at each other, and something passed between them, before Liz descended on him. “Make me beautiful.”

“You’re already beautiful,” Liz said automatically, like it was a well rehearsed line. “But babe, you are gonna be a knockout.”

-

This look is modelled on the gorgeous @SoulEater who only had a mild allergic reaction to #maccomestics pro longwear fluidline! #oops #stilllookscutethough

-

“Hey, little brother.”

Facetimeing with his brother was an increasingly regular event, and one that was rife with danger. His mother could be hovering right over Wes’s shoulder, ready to demand to talk to Soul. Why hadn’t he called her and his father? Didn’t he know they worried? All the rain in Seattle was making him look washed out, didn’t he know?

But Wes mostly wanted to see Maka, Shakira, and Hercules.

And Soul too, sure. Don’t forget him.

“Hey, big brother,” Soul drawled. “The animals are asleep in the laundry room, and Maka’s got a shift at the pound.”

Wes didn’t try to conceal his disappointment or if he did, he did a terrible job in Soul’s humble opinion.

“Awh, you know I don’t only call you to see them, right?” Wes said. “Sometimes I want to see your ugly mug too.”

“Sorry if my face offends your delicate sensibilities, but it runs in the family.”

“Ouch,” Wes said, like the barb was objectively, if not personally, hurtful. “Whose been teaching you to stand your ground?”

“What?” Soul shook his head. “Is there a reason for the call? Other than to see the dogs and my housemate?”

“When do I get to meet them, anyway, Soul?”

“So, I’ll take that as ‘why would I ever call to speak to you, my only brother, whom I love’, then, hmm?”

Soul hung up.

-

“Soul! I’m home!” Maka dumped armfuls of brown paper bags onto the counter. “I brought Indian, and I’m really sorry-”

“YAHOO!”

“-But, I also brought Black Star.”

Black Star wasn’t the only friend she brought, but he was the loudest, and the most likely to commit guerilla home improvements, which Soul had mixed feelings about when he was trying to sleep. And Kid was eyeing up something that wasn’t organised to his liking already, even though Soul was sure that he hadn’t made drastic changes to anything in open view since he’d been here last.

“Okay, who else needs a beer?” Soul offered. “Liz? Patti?”

“Sure,” Liz said absently, scrolling through something on her phone. “I could use a drink or fifteen.”

“I’ll get plates!” Patti said, springing forward.

“Do you know where they are?” Soul said, but the only answer he got was the clatter of dishware. “Of course you do.”

He popped the cap off a beer for himself and Liz, offering her one of the craft beers from his secret stash that everyone knew about. Apparently him and Liz were the only ones with any kind of refined palette, since he was pretty sure that Black Star’s drink of choice was turpentine, or something equally hard.

Patti started setting the enormous dining table that Edie insisted was for family gatherings, even though Soul could not recall any of his family ever gathering here.

Soul started unpacking the food, reading out the orders from the box lids and handing them around to anyone who made grabby motions in response.

-

Before dinner started, Soul had hoped that he might be able salvage some leftover Indian for his lunch tomorrow, but by the time the dust had cleared the plates were so clean it was like there’d never been any food there in the first place.

Soul felt heavy, and and not just because Shakira was resting her head on his thigh, drooling a considerable damp circle into his jeans. He was full and a little bit sleepy, and looking around, he could tell he wasn’t the only one.

Patti was sleepily tracing shapes onto the tablecloth, her eyes glazed over as she dreamed distant dreams. Liz was squinting at the empty bottles lined up in front of her, struggling to read the labels. Black Star and Kidd were huddled over one or other of their phones, snorting intermittently and Maka was lying on the floor, cooing gently at Hercules.

Black Star’s phone buzzed loudly, the beep from Kim Possible ringing loudly in the still, sleepy air.

“Soul!” Black Star flung the phone at him, and Soul scrambled to catch it. “Read!”

-

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa:

Cryptid Catalogue is coming to see Seattle if you wanna fight Noah

He’s coming to disprove the wolf walker

Like we all don’t know that’s just a guy who likes to walk his dog

He only ever goes after the easy debunks the prick

-

“Soul, bro, you made it, bro!”