#he’s at the prize counter and gives out prizes and Guards against theft and he’s just a little baby

[chlorinewaterdrinker]

Pizza pizza

[moronic-validity]

Okey so I saw that ur requests where up?if not then I won’t take offence to you ignoring this I can be dumb sometimes😅

Anywho! If you wouldn’t mind of course could I get Asa Emory with a delinquent M!S/O? Idm what else you do with it I just love the idea of someone who would like punch Asa and not bat an eye and clashes with dominance I guess?

Thank you!!🥰

Hi Asa Nonnie! I decided to goa bit...off with it and I broke the reader! Well, Asa did.

This is a 2k fic, I was going to make it longer... If y'all want a part 2, let me know!

Warnings: Canon-typical ish violence! Just a little bit of Stockholm Syndrome, maybe more self preservation than anything else.

This fic is not 18+, but I will say it’s like...not completely sfw

You knew this guy had a PhD and owned a fairly lucrative fix-it company.

You hoped this guy had some work equipment you could take to the pawn shop.

You had been watching the house for about a week, making note of his comings and goings, assuring yourself that he lived alone. This man functioned on a tight schedule and you could map it down to the minute. There was only one thing that caught you off guard.

He didn’t have a security system.

It almost threw you off his house.

Almost.

You waited until he left for the night, somewhere around 8 p.m. He wouldn’t be back for hours. You knew as long as you were quiet, his neighbors wouldn’t even blink. He even left his garage open.

This guy really is clueless, you thought to yourself, nearly wanting to laugh at the man, this is going to be a piece of cake.

Asa drove off down the block. He was going to give you about 45 minutes to get into his home and begin your search for loot. He checked his watch and tapped his steering wheel impatiently. He wanted to save himself the effort of replacing his windows or locks and left the garage door open for you.

You walked in, careful to not make too much noise. His house was absurdly pristine, if you didn’t know someone lived there, you’d have assumed it was a model home. You wandered towards the bedrooms and took care to step over the wire on the floor. You had no idea what it was attached to, but the last thing you needed was to knock something over.

Asa parked on the curb across from his house. He hummed to himself, happy to see your nondescript grey car with the conveniently missing tags still parked in his garage, out of view from his neighbors.

So smart, he thought to himself, yet far too careless.

Asa nodded to a passing neighbor, a greeting exchanged as the other continued their walk.

Once he was in his garage, he pulled on his gloves and mask. He entered his house silently, not wanting to alert the would-be thief. He watched as you entered his room and touch his bed.

You had to marvel at the impeccable condition this man kept his house in. You ghosted your fingers along the sheets of his bed. They were high quality, you assumed. Higher quality than you had ever owned. You looked across the room, unaware of the man approaching from behind until he was within arm’s length. You planted your feet, twisted, and threw a punch with your entire body weight behind it.

Asa wasn’t expecting you to hit him.

Asa certainly wasn’t expecting it to hurt the way it did.

The fight that ensued left both of you bloody, but while you seemed tired, the other man seemed excited. Almost thrilled to have someone to beat the shit out of.

He had backed you out into the hall, and this time, you weren’t careful, and you tripped over the wire you had intentionally avoided the first time. The rug on the floor came up and enveloped you, blacking out everything.

It was a trap.

This man had booby trapped his house.

You thought about the predictable schedule, the lack of a security system, and the open garage door.

This was never an easy score, not for you at least.

Asa chuckled to himself before finding one of his spare crates. He cut you down, dropping you and the rug into the container. You were kicking and screaming, fighting against it, but stronger people had put up better fights, and still wound up added to his collection. You were no different, though definitely more amusing.

He took off his mask and gloves and headed towards his bathroom. He prodded at the growing bruise and shook his head. You had landed a few good shots. His lip was split, there was the bruise forming along his left cheek and up along his brow, he knew his knuckles were split and that if he had bothered to check, his ribs were probably bruised.

He carefully cleaned his lip and knuckles before returning his attention to where you were stored on the floor.

He had plans for you.

He dragged the crate out into his driveway, once again acknowledging one of his neighbors. They exchanged pleasantries as you attempted to rock the box over.

“Feisty ones this time Asa?” His neighbor joked, looking at the trunk.

You nearly froze. Was this a regular occurrence? Did this guy just...kidnap people?

“Only a little bit,” Asa said with a happy sounding sigh, “I’ve been lucky enough to study him alone for roughly a week now, just time to take him back to where he belongs.”

“Seems like he doesn’t want to go,” his neighbor laughed, “Need some help loading him up?”

You screamed, but it was muffled. You felt yourself being lifted and before long, you were set down and slid until you hit a wall.

You heard a door shut.

Before long, the vehicle was moving. You were folded in an uncomfortable position and every time he took a turn, you slid until you hit another panel of the van.

You had to shut your eyes to avoid getting motion sick.

Once the van was parked, he hauled the trunk along with him.

You had no idea where you were, but you knew as soon as he opened the crate, you were going to start swinging.

You tried to map the turns he took so you could get out of the building, but after the eighth or ninth turn, you were lost.

Finally, he set you down. You could hear him doing something across the room.

Then he unlatched the case.

You tumbled out, clumsily finding your footing. Your vision was swimming, but you attempted to punch your kidnapper anyway. Asa dodged it with ease and shoved you.

You fell then scrambled back to your feet, setting up to tackle him.

Asa stepped to the side and watched you run into the floor. He smiled. He was going to have fun with this. He walked over to your still recovering form, pulled the waist band of your pants down, and stuck you with the needle he set up before letting you out. Nothing more than a mild paralytic. He wanted you awake for this.

You were numb. You couldn’t lift your arms or legs if you tried, and you did. You felt him lift you up and place you on a table that you didn’t even realize was in the room. He picked up your arm and started an IV. You could see the stand in your peripheral. You hoped to God that it was just saline.

Asa picked up a pair of trauma shears off the counter and cut away your pants and shirt. He had to make sure that he hadn’t damaged his newest toy. He noted that your chest was covered in bruises, but other than one that looked particularly dark, he was sure you were going to be fine.

You cold tell it was cold and you felt your clothes being pulled away. You’d cover yourself if you could move your arms.

Asa considered his options. He could easily skin you if he wanted to. Use you for a new addition to his prized collection.

But you were interesting.

Interesting didn’t come along every day.

He checked his watch. You probably had another three or four hours until the paralytic wore off. He covered your body with a blanket and sat down, watching and waiting until you were moving again.

Your eyelids were so heavy and the blanket he covered you with was so warm. Despite the fear you felt, you couldn’t help yourself falling asleep.

You woke up to your IV being tugged. You turned your head and regarded the man carefully. You didn’t want to swing on him and wind up getting drugged again, but you also didn’t want to stay here. He wasn’t unattractive and frankly speaking, in any other situation, that didn’t start with robbery and end with a kidnapping, you probably would’ve asked him out for coffee.

“Asa, right?” Your voice was hoarse, he looked at you like he was trying to figure out how he wanted to pin you to the wall, “What do you want with me?”

Asa chuckled.

“What do I want with you,” he chuckled again, shaking his head, “What did you want with me? What were you hoping to steal?”

“I don’t think we can really compare the pair here,” you said, almost wanting to laugh, “Kidnapping and theft are on two different levels,”

You sat up on the table, letting the blanket fall over your lap.

Asa took a step back, his hand on the shears he used to remove your clothes.

“You’re interesting. I tend to enjoy the company of interesting people.” He answered, leaving no room for further questioning.

You two watched each other, each waiting for the other to make a move.

“Lay back down.” Asa commanded, and you laughed in his face.

“I’m not a dog,” you started, before he put his hands on your chest and forced you back down onto the table, securing you in place with straps you didn’t know were there.

It occurred to you that this was not the first time you missed the small details that gave him advantage.

“Disobey or question me again and I put you back in the box. You’ll only come out when I decide I want your company,” he tightened the straps, “Listen to me and things will be significantly easier for you.”

You acted before you thought about it. You turned your head and spit on him.

The laugh Asa let out made you regret every choice you made in the last 48 hours.

You weren’t sure how long he locked you in the trunk. You knew that everything hurt. You were sure that you’d be stuck in this uncomfortable position even after the case was opened.

Asa locked you in the box for about an hour. He had timed it. It gave him a moment to take his frustrations out on a different unfortunate soul.

Asa adjusted his clothes before reentering the room he was keeping you in. He knew there was blood on his shoes, still wet and fragrant.

He undid the straps on the case and let it fall open. You fell over, onto the floor, not bothering to get up.

Asa shook his head.

“I want you to lick my shoe.” Asa moved his shoe directly in front of your face.

“Why?” you were scared to refuse, not wanting to get put in the box again.

“Because my shoe is dirty,” he crossed his arms, “and I want you to clean it.”

You stalled. Asa bent down to drag you back into the box.

“No no no no no,” you started panicking; you stuck your tongue out and he let go of your arm. You could tell it was blood based off of scent alone and as disgusted as you were, you’d do anything on earth to avoid being shoved back in the dark.

He stood back up and watched as you started to lick his shoe with broad strokes. The tears were flowing freely down your face and Asa had never seen something so beautiful in his life.

You were broken.

It was so much easier than Asa could’ve dreamed.

He watched patiently as you cried and begged and worshiped his bloody shoe.

You had still disobeyed him.

He still locked you back in the box, crying and screaming.

He set the timer for about forty-seven minutes, not even bothering to leave the room. He sat in the chair and watched the box rattle. He watched as it stilled, and your screams turned to choked sobs. He imagined the look of resigned desperation.

His watch gave a single vibration to signal the end of your confinement.

When he opened the box this time, your first response was to clutch his leg.

Asa was amused by how little effort he had to put into breaking your will. Had you not been attractive, he would’ve considered you no longer of interest.

He shook you off his leg and walked across the room. You stayed put and watched him, looking for some signal so you didn’t make the mistake of disobeying him yet again.

He motioned for you to come and you crawled to him without a second thought. You sat at his feet and looked up at him.

“Well, isn’t that a good boy,” he stroked your cheek, thankful you had put the idea of you being his dog in his head.

You leaned into his touch.

Asa smiled and cupped your face in his hand, squeezing just hard enough for it to open your mouth.

“Stick out your tongue,” he said, no louder than a whisper. You obeyed and he repaid you by spitting directly onto your tongue, “Now swallow.”

For a second you considered spitting onto the floor. You didn’t want this. Not from him.

The fear of being locked in the trunk again over-rode any sense of self respect and you swallowed the mixed saliva.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, sir.”

[beatlesdumpsterfire]

For @pushmipulluridesagain's prompt:

The Beatles go to Target

Brian should have known better than to give the boys the day off, completely unsupervised. Even John, Paul, George, and Ringo were shocked. In fact, they were so shocked that they couldn’t think of a single thing to do to fully take advantage of Brian’s huge mistake.

So, they found themselves in the sitting room of George’s flat, staring around at each other with blank looks plastered across their faces. Finally, John was the one to break the silence with a suggestion:

“Why don’t we go to Target?”

It wasn’t the most exciting option out there, but it sure was something, and it was a lot better than sitting around like their wax figures at Madame Tussauds. None of the other boys had any better ideas to offer, so that was that. Before Brian could change his mind, they all piled into George’s car and sped off to their local Target.

“Are we looking for anything specific?” Paul asked the car. Ringo turned around from the passenger seat and grinned back at Paul.

“It doesn’t matter if there’s something specific we’re looking for, we’re bound to walk out with a cart full of things we didn’t even know we needed.”

“I once went to Target looking for a screwdriver and I came out with an inflatable lawn decoration,” George mused. “I don’t think I’ve even taken it out of the box though.”

“There’s something about Target, it just sucks you dry,” Paul thought aloud. He paused for a second and quickly turned to John, who was obviously on the verge of making a bad joke. “Don’t you dare say it,” Paul warned him.

John luckily listened, which saved him from a hefty slap from Paul, and instead shared some wisdom he had picked up from a TikTok he saw the other day.

“You know, I heard somewhere that you can steal a certain amount of stuff from Target and they won’t stop you. They keep track of what you take, but they’ll only pull the authorities in when you’ve surpassed a certain dollar amount of stolen goods. It’s so they can charge it as a serious felony, I think.”

“Huh,” Ringo thought aloud. “So I could steal just under that amount and waltz out of the store?”

“I doubt it’s that black and white,” Paul interjected. “If they catch you taking something, they’re bound to stop you, right?”

“Why don’t we test it, lads?” John grinned. Paul let out a groan; he should have seen where that conversation was going. He had been a fool to assume they were going to take an innocent trip to Target.

“I’m game,” George said from behind the steering wheel. “We were bound to do something stupid today, I’m glad we figured out what that was.”

“Sounds like fun,” Ringo chirped happily. “I’ve never stolen anything before.”

“You haven’t either, have you, Paul?” John teased Paul.

“I have too,” Paul murmured. He had pocketed a single bean from the grocery store when he was 5 and, while his mom made him return the bean to one of the employees working there, he still felt it counted.

John could see straight through Paul’s fib, but he was confident that his mate would participate, as much as he acted like he was against it. Knowing that they were all on board to rob a Target got John feeling especially energized: he couldn’t wait to kick capitalism in the shins.

“Let’s make a competition out of it, Lads,” he announced, clapping his hands together. “30 minutes on the clock, whoever comes out with the most impressive collection of items wins.”

“What’s the prize?” George asked.

“Bragging rights,” John decided. None of the other boys were especially happy about that but, considering they were going to rob a store, they were all already kind of winning something in a sense.

“And one last thing,” John added, “if you get caught, you’ll be disqualified.”

“That’s straight-forward enough to me,” George nodded as he turned into the Target parking lot. “We’ll meet back at the car once our 30 minutes is up then?”

“Yeah,” John said.

“You’re going to get your asses handed to you!” Ringo cackled, unbuckling his seatbelt and rushing into the store before anyone could even set a timer. Paul, John, and George all exchanged tired glances; they knew Ringo was about to do something stupid.

And, of course, they were right. Ringo tore into the Target, the bell dinging above his head as he scanned around the store, his heart beating up into his throat with a wild look in his eyes. He needed to prove to his mates that he could be the best thief out there, one that was bound to earn their utmost respect. Ringo hadn’t really listened to the rules all that much, but he felt that he got the overall gist of the competition: he just had to take the biggest and most impressive thing and not get caught. That was a piece of cake because he, Ringo Starr, was the Master of Deception.

Ringo sprinted for the electronics department, nearly taking out an older gentleman and a mannequin in the process. The mannequin slowly toppled over, flattening the older gentleman behind Ringo, giving him the most action he had received in well over 50 years.

“Ooh!” the older man squealed.

Ringo made it to the section with the really big televisions and felt his pupils dilate tenfold.

“Yes,” he breathed out. Sure, there were three Target employees on the floor nearby, but Ringo was the Master of Deception. He had this in the bag. He managed to slow his breathing down to a pace that didn’t make him look like a rabid animal, and sauntered to the biggest TV in the store. Ringo looked it up and down and then smiled. He was gonna win this thing so hard. He looked to the left, making direct eye contact with one of the employees, and then looked to the right, making direct eye contact with the other employee, and then turned back to the TV. And, in one big grunt, he dislodged the TV from the wall and proceeded to shove it down his pants.

Both employees probably would have made more of an effort to stop him if they hadn’t been so thrown off guard by the fact that he had just put an 80 inch TV down his rear. It was a mystery how he was able to fit that screen in there, but somehow he did it.

Well, Ringo was the Master of Deception after all, I guess he was just doing what he did best.

While the TV was semi-concealed, the latter half of it stuck out of the seat of Ringo’s pants and rose well-above his head, so there was no denying what he was doing. Ringo had grossly miscalculated how heavy the TV was going to be; he was obviously struggling as he attempted to shuffle his way to the front doors. The two employees who had just witnessed this entire shit show exchanged an uncertain glance and shrugged their shoulders. They weren’t paid enough to deal with shit like that. Let the weirdo shove a TV down his pants if he wanted to.

Somehow, by some miracle, Ringo managed to make it to the front doors without being stopped (although he did attract a lot of strange looks). It was only when the metal detectors started to blare through the store that Ringo was surrounded by seven employees, two of which body slammed him to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the TV was removed from his pants and Ringo was sitting against the Starbucks counter by the front door with his arms shackled behind his back, moping not only because he had been eliminated from the competition and arrested, but also because he could no longer confidently say that he was the Master of Deception.

After Ringo powered into the store, Paul, George, and John synced their watches and agreed to meet back in the parking lot to determine the winner (they already knew that Ringo was going to be disqualified, it was only a matter of time before they found out exactly what he had done to eliminate himself).

George was the second to enter the store behind Ringo. As if he was going on any old Target run, George casually strolled through the front doors and made his way directly to the food section. The second John had initially mentioned theft, George’s stomach growled since it had officially been 20 minutes since his last meal. From that second onwards, George could only think about one thing and one thing only: filling the apparent goddamn void in his stomach.

So, in that food aisle, George went to town, carefully packing his shopping cart to the brim with crackers, cookies, sandwich-making materials, and lots and lots of candy. Satisfied with his load, he retreated to the back of the store where he very quickly found the employee break room and settled there, seated eagerly in front of his stuffed cart. A few employees filed in and out of the room as George worked away at his feast, but none of them bothered to stop him because they could care less. This was just an average day at Target: some guy had shoved a TV down his pants a few minutes ago, so George’s spectacle wasn’t even the worst thing they’d seen all day.

In ten minutes, George had consumed well over 50,000 calories and patted his extended stomach with content before letting out a belch that rattled the whole establishment for well-over 10 seconds.

Across the store in the women’s lingerie section, Paul snapped his head up from a rack of nice bras and scanned around in a panic. When he realized that the shaking wasn’t coming from an angry guard storming up to him, Paul’s shoulders relaxed and he returned back to sifting through the silk fabric, trying to find the flashiest bra available.

George collected all of his empty packages and started to shove them into a plastic Target bag that had been discarded in the breakroom so he had evidence of just how many things he had stolen that were now sitting in the bottom of his stomach. But, George wasn’t going to stop there; as impressive as his feat was, he knew that he was up against some tough competition (aka John, Paul didn’t count), so he really had to step up his game.

As he scanned around the store trying to find something good to snag, it occurred to George that he was wearing a red shirt and a pair of khakis (he was long overdue to do his laundry). He was basically an employee at Target, so George knew that he really could take things the extra mile. And oh boy, did he. He approached a cash register where there was an apron and an employee’s scanner sitting loosely around and tugged the apron over his head, adding the scanner to one of his front pockets. To be an incredibly huge nuisance, George went out of his way to unscrew the credit card reader (with his Target screwdriver, of course) and packed that into his apron as well. He checked his phone and, when he saw he had two minutes to spare, he decided that he had had his fun, and returned to the parking lot.

For Paul, when he first entered the store, he was a nervous wreck. Since the bean incident, he had vowed to never do a wrong thing ever again in his life. But, deep down, he knew that he would much rather become a criminal than let down his mates. He especially didn’t want to see the look of disappointment on John’s face if he came back empty-handed; that just wasn’t acceptable.

So, he decided to go the conservative route and start off small. After sneaking a pack of Trident Layers into his coat pocket without so much as a blink of an eye from those in the vicinity, Paul felt his heart rate slow. It was okay, this was fine, he totally had this. So, from there, Paul started to get more of a feel for the sticky fingers, sliding a pack of soap up his sleeve and a daily planner down his shirt. Now he was really feeling the groove of things, so he boldly made his way to the gift card section and grabbed a $20 Applebee's gift card. He was really going wild now. He was yet to face any consequences for his actions, so he booked it to the best part of Target: the electronic section, where Ringo had just been fucking shit up five minutes prior. Attempting to keep all of his stolen goods concealed, Paul strolled up and down the aisles, trying to decide which items on display were the best to grab (aka what would impress John the most). After checking to see if the coast was clear (which it was, since all the staff in the area were busy dealing with Ringo in the front of the store), Paul slid a Nintendo Switch inside his coat and hustled away from the crime scene, giggling to himself.

Now he was on a high. He was bound to win the competition with his impressive level of skill; the rest of the boys had probably already been caught because they were nowhere near as sneaky as him. As Paul hustled past the home goods aisle, he caught a glimpse of a Rolling Stones poster and turned back around with a smug look. The poster immediately went down his pants, where it belonged, so Mick’s face was pressed up against some stuff I’m not going to list out here. To top off the successful day, Paul made his way to the lingerie section to pick out an especially nice bra to give to John as a joke, to really rub in his victory. With the exception of the quick period of shaking that nearly made Paul crap himself, he was poised with a confidence he had never felt before, like he was immortal. Paul crept his way out a side door and returned to George’s car with his head held high and his pockets completely lined with goods, making it to George and John with three seconds to spare.

John knew exactly what he was doing from the get-go. He knew that his mates would all fall for a friendly competition and get so consumed by it that John could do his dirty work undetected. He knew that Ringo was bound to create a distraction big enough for him to do what he set out to do. He wasn’t sure if Paul and George would get caught too but, if they did, that would just be an additional bonus. After watching George and Paul hurry through the front doors, John stomped out his used cigarette on the pavement and ambled in behind them.

“Hey, Ringo,” he calmly greeted his mate as he made it through the front doors, where Ringo was still handcuffed and swarmed by employees and police officers.

“Hi John,” Ringo attempted to wave back, failing miserably. With a satisfied smirk, John moved to the front registers and, one by one, popped them open with a screwdriver that he himself had stolen from Target just the previous week. You’d think that alarms would have gone off, or someone would have noticed, but no, John was the true Master of Deception. He opened his coat to reveal a large, holographic fanny pack (also stolen) and started to fill it with the 1s, 5s, 10s, 20s, and 100s in each cash register. In under a minute, he had emptied out every register in the store, right under the cops’ noses. It was practically a miracle.

While George and Paul were still trying to make their way around the perimeter of the store, finding the best things to take, John was out the front doors in under three minutes, his fanny pack stuffed to the brim with cash just like George’s stomach was about to be with food.

“Fools,” John couldn’t help but laugh to himself as he lit a new cigarette and took out a long, satisfied drag. And, with that, he let himself back into George’s car and reclined backwards in the front seat, his feet kicked up on the dashboard. He kept an eye out for any commotion if someone caught on to his crime, but the store was incredibly peaceful and still, like a lake on a cool summer’s morning. John found that to be oddly beautiful, so much so that he knew he could write a decent song about it, called “Hey Target I Just Robbed You Blind, Suck It”.

After what felt like ages of waiting, George finally emerged from the store and, not too shortly afterwards, Paul trailed out after him.

“Did you see they arrested Ringo?” Paul asked as he plopped in the back seat, his pockets swishing this way and that and a loud, papery crunching noise coming from his pants.

“I was able to get in a quick word with him,” George told Paul. “Turns out he tried to steal the biggest TV in the store by hiding it in his pants.”

“Classic Ringo,” Paul rolled his eyes. “You’re awfully quiet,” he turned to John. “Nervous to lose?”

“You wish,” John snapped back to life, reclaiming his role as the leader of the competition. “Well, let’s go then, boys, shall we? Show off what you were able to grab.”

George was the first to go, and Paul and John’s eyes widened as he emptied out the opened food packages from his stolen bag. He had enough in there to fill half a trash dump.

“I ate all of that in under 10 minutes,” George proudly shared, before letting out another loud burp. “And, I took this.” George untied his apron and threw it in the pile, adding along the scanner and the credit card reader. “They thought I was an employee,” George couldn’t help but laugh as he looked down at his red shirt and khakis.

“What are you gonna do with a credit card reader?” Paul couldn’t help but ask. It seemed like the stupidest thing George could have taken. Well, actually a toilet plunger from the bathroom would have been stupider, but Paul had come to that conclusion earlier after taking the toilet plunger from the men’s room and talking himself into putting it back.

“Dunno,” George shrugged. “It seemed like it would be hard to take, so I took it.”

“That’s admirable,” John admitted, impressed with his younger mate. “Alright Paul, show us your booty.”

Paul couldn’t help but grin in anticipated excitement at his seemingly inevitable victory as he first retrieved the pack of gum and soap, followed by the daily planner and $20 Applebee’s gift card.

“Hold up,” John stopped him. “You’re disqualified.”

“Disqualified?” Paul nearly shouted in shock. “Why?”

John pointed at the Applebee’s gift card.

“That’s a foul right there. No one in their right mind would steal an Applebee’s gift card and consider themselves a winner. That just spoiled whatever else you took, I don’t even want to see it.”

“But I took a Nintendo Switch!” Paul tried to protest, reaching into his coat to grab it.

“I don’t care,” John held his ground, “you’re disqualified.” George watched onwards in excitement; he loved it when he did better than Paul.

“Now how’s that fair?” Paul protested. “We’re all judges here, your word isn’t above ours!”

“It is when I already know I’ve won,” John retorted. Before Paul could fight against this, John unzipped his jacket, displaying his fanny pack. Both Paul and George broke into fits of laughter.

“You can’t be serious, John,” George howled, “You think you won with that?”

“That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Paul added in, relief washing over him that John might have just been giving him a hard time. That theory was quickly abandoned, however, when John, sporting the strongest poker face ever seen in the history of mankind, unzipped the fanny pack, revealing the stacks upon stacks of cash inside.

“I counted it all while you were in there wasting your time,” he explained to George and Paul’s gaping faces. “It’s near $20,000.” George recoiled in shock.

“John,” Paul’s voice was shaking now, “I don’t think that was such a great idea…”

“They haven’t caught me though, have they?” John tested Paul with a raised eyebrow, nodding towards the store.

“But I don’t think you should be sitting in their parking lot with the $20,000 you just stole, John,” George told him, trying to keep his cool.

“I’m not worried about it,” John waved George off. “Ringo’s got them all busy. Meanwhile I’m gonna buy me a new car to celebrate.”

“John,” Paul deadpanned, “you already own three cars. And you don’t have a driver’s license.”

“You really do need to consider other ways to live lavishly,” George agreed.

“What matters is that I’m $20,000 richer and you’re not,” John snapped back at them, growing frustrated that they weren’t as in awe of his achievement as he had hoped.

Right as Paul was about to suggest that John go back inside and return the money before they got into any serious trouble, Ringo knocked on George’s window, accompanied by two cops, making them all jump. After glancing back at John to make sure his money was hidden, George rolled down the window.

“They’re taking me to the sin bin,” Ringo explained, nodding at the two cops who were holding him in a deathlock. “Apparently putting a TV down your pants is considered a crime.”

“No kidding,” Paul told him.

“My bail is supposed to be posted at about $20,000,” Ringo continued, ignoring Paul. “Can you help set old Ringo free?”

Paul and George slowly turned to face John, who was scowling downwards.

“Yes,” George answered for him, “in fact, I think we’ve got $20,000 we can spare.”

Ringo smiled.

[queenjunoking]

The Stalker Pt 2

CW: Stalking, Voyeurism

“It just feels like someone is watching me sometimes.” Melody sighed and leaned against the counter.

“I mean, we all kind of feel like that sometimes. You live alone so it makes sense you’re a bit more on guard, right?” Emily asked as she finished making a cup of coffee. She looked at the name again before placing it on the edge of the counter. “Alan? Your coffee is ready.”

The conversation paused for a moment while the man walked up to get his coffee and left the shop. The day had been usually slow. Normally the morning was busy with people coming in for their drinks or sitting around tapping away at their computers while they had their cups refilled for a few hours.

“I guess.” Melody picked up a cup of hot chocolate she made for herself and took a sip. “I just feel like things were moved in my apartment the other day.”

“You showed me the pictures Mel, I’m sorry but I couldn’t see any difference.” Emily shrugged and tried to give Melody a sympathetic smile. She wasn’t quite sure what to say at this point. Melody was positive someone had been in her apartment the other day but despite looking around the place with her, she didn’t notice anything out of place. Emily was about to say something when the bell by the door rang out.

Melody answered automatically, it was starting to become a concerning Pavlov response.“Welcome to the Bean Brew Bar, how can I help you?”

A small woman approached the bar. She had short black hair and blue eyes. She was wearing jean shorts, a plain white t-shirt and a newsboy hat. She was carrying a camera bag with her, probably a tourist taking in the sights. It was a common sight for Melody, the coffee shop was near the lake so they got a lot of sightseers.

Scout looked around the place. She had come in here before on a day that Melody had off. Luckily her coworker hadn’t been working that day either, it just made today easier. She hated being recognized, it’s why she was constantly changing her appearance.

“Can I ask what you’re drinking?” Scout asked, tilting her head a bit.

It caught Melody off guard. She had forgotten that she was still holding it. “Oh. It’s a spiced hot chocolate blend. It’s not something we normally offer, it’s something I put together myself. But if you want to try it I can just charge you the normal hot chocolate price for it.”

“Sure, that sounds great.” Scout looked into the case showing off the various baked goods. “Do you have a recommendation for something to snack on?”

“I like a lot of things here, but I like the cinnamon apple muffins personally. Before I worked here I used to come in here for one almost every morning.” Melody smiled at Scout. There wasn’t anything really strange about the woman’s requests, but something about her seemed a bit off.

Melody decided to just push away those feelings for the moment and just finish the order. “Can I get a name?” She asked like there were other people in the coffee shop that her order could get confused with.

“Sandra.” Scout said as she left the counter, leaving a few bills behind to cover the cost of her breakfast. She always tried to choose common names, it helped her stick out less. People remembered strange names and Scout did everything she could to not stick out.

Melody watched her go sit at a table in the corner and pull out a small tablet. On one hand someone was finally in the shop, but somehow just having one person here felt weirder than having no one here.

“Have you considered that maybe your landlord just entered without permission? There are a lot of crappy ones in this city that don’t follow the law unfortunately.” Melody resisted the urge to sigh. Emily was just trying to be helpful, but the suggestions just kind of made her feel worse.

“I don’t exactly have the best relationship with Shirley, but I doubt she’s coming into my-” Melody was cut off again by the bell by the door. “Welcome to the Bean Bre- oh, Brad. What do you want?”

The air in the coffee shop changed as a man walked in. Short blond hair, white pressed shirt, and khakis. All three women looked at him as he walked in.

“Hey, Melody. I couldn’t help but notice that you hadn’t called me yet. Not ever a text.” He leaned over the counter and smiled at Melody. Melody took a few steps back to put some space between them.

“Yeah, that was on purpose. I also didn’t tell you where I worked.” Melody tried to stare him down, but it was like staring at a wall. He was either too oblivious to notice the chill in the room or too much of an asshole to care.

“Ah, yeah. A friend of mine came here the other day. Told me someone worked here that looked like you. I’m glad they were right, I was afraid you might have lost my number or something.” His smile turned into a look of annoyance. “I tried the one you gave me but it seems to be out of service.”

“What do you want, Brad?” The change in tone unnerved Melody. There really wasn’t anyone to help out right now, it was just her and Emily working today.

“I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”

“Brad, you yelled at a waitress.”

“Look, babe. If she didn’t want to be yelled at, maybe she should have been faster.” Brad stood up straight and crossed his arms, looking down at Melody.

“S-sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” Emily tried to butt in, but Brad just tried to brush her off.

“Look, glasses.” Brad said, motioning at her face. “I’m a paying customer. It might be a struggle to find a place to sit right now but I think I’ll take a cup of whatever coffee you recommend and I’ll just sit around awhile. I have nothing better to do. I can just sit here all day and chat with Melody.”

He reached for his wallet in his back pocket, but didn’t find it. He quickly pat himself down, checking his other pockets and not finding it.

“So you aren’t a paying customer then.” Scout asked, interrupting the conversation. She surprised all three of them, last they took notice with her she was at a table in the corner. Now she was taking a bite out of the muffin that had been left on the counter. Brad was about to say something, but Scout interrupted him before he could speak. “Gotta be careful when you lose a wallet. People will steal your cards and such. Identity theft is a big problem these days.”

Brad scowled at her, but turned to leave. “I’ll be back later when I find my wallet. I’m sure it's around here somewhere.”

The bell by the door jingled as he left, leaving the three alone. The shop was quiet as Melody went back to preparing Scout’s drink.

“He seems like a prize.” Scout said, breaking the silence. Melody looked upset while Emily seemed anxious.

“A date set up by friends gone wrong.” Melody finally answered as she placed the drink in front of Scout. “Not particularly good friends if they thought that guy was any good.”

Scout took a sip of the hot chocolate, it was surprisingly good. She pulled Brad’s wallet out of her camera bag and removed five twenty dollar bills, stuffing them into the tip jar.

“This is good, any chance I can get the recipe?”

{&}

Scout left the coffee shop after Melody wrote down the ingredients on the back of her receipt. Melody also made her promise to turn in the “lost” wallet to the police. It didn’t stop her from accepting the money from it of course. All and all it had been a successful outing, even if it had been short.

Alice was a fickle person and if Scout wanted to stay in her good graces she had to get her more interesting things that another person couldn’t get her. She managed to get the recipe for a hot chocolate blend that Melody made herself, as well as knowledge of the muffin that Melody liked enough to visit the coffee shop for on a consistent basis before she was hired.

Little was too much for her clients, though getting close to a target like that was always risky. Melody knew what she looked like now, so she’d be changing up her look tonight. Hair dye, a slightly different style and probably some contacts. Scout had never been recognized when she didn’t want to be, but she wasn’t going to risk Melody noticing her around. After dropping such a large tip that she had gotten from pickpocketing that douchebag, Melody would probably remember her.

She’d send the recipe and muffin information to Alice’s butler tonight. Hopefully it would tide Alice over since she wasn’t going to be taking pictures of Melody tonight. No, there was something much more pressing now. Unfortunately that thing was Brad.

She had recorded the confrontation between Brad and Melody on her tablet up until she knew she had to step between them. Brad staying in the shop for the rest of the day would have screwed up everyone’s plans.

She also knew Alice would be unhappy that someone was acting like that towards Melody.

She followed him as he retraced his steps, desperately looking for his lost wallet. I sat at a table outside another cafe and sipped on a lemonade as I watched him yell into his phone for a while. I expected him to have his own car to drive, but it seemed that he got a ride share here. There was a lot of talk about having the driver arrested for stealing his wallet and calling the company of the app to have him fired and such. Empty threats of course, he didn’t seem like the type who would have the patience to sit around on hold as they waited to talk to someone about what they claimed happened.

Scout riffled through the wallet, looking for anything interesting. The cards and driver’s license would probably be enough to get into his accounts. She took a picture of his license and sent it off to an information broker she was close with. She usually preferred to do this herself, but she had a lot to do today. The small fee she paid to the broker would probably be dwarfed by what Alice would pay for his file.

The hike that she spent the rest of the day on was as exhausting as it was annoying. She followed him to a restaurant where he met up with some of his friends. Making them pay for his meal of course. Though she wasn’t sure if he would have paid for it even if he had his wallet.

After hanging out there for far too long they split up, promising to meet for drinks later tonight. He took the long walk home and stayed inside for a few hours. Home was always one of the most important things to know. I got a message from the information broker saying that he lived in the penthouse. Unsurprisingly it was his father that paid for it.

The time he spent inside just gave Scout time to make some laps around the building. There was an underground parking lot and two main entrances to the building. It didn’t have spectacular surveillance, but living in the penthouse caused problems.

It wasn’t worth trying to break into his apartment. There was something better she could do instead. She waited across the street, nursing a cup of coffee at some high end coffee shop until it was almost time for him to leave to meet his friends. She left a generous tip before she went back across the street and waited by the crosswalk.

He had planned on meeting up with his friends at some college bar, he would have to go this way to get there. After ten minutes of awkwardly waiting by the crosswalk he emerged from his apartment building.

Just like she planned, he was walking towards her. She made sure to stay a few steps away as he approached the crowd that was waiting for the lights to change. She circled around him and spied his phone peeking out of his pocket on the right.

She followed along with the crowd for another two blocks before she went for it. He stopped to cross a street and she carefully plucked the phone out of his pocket. She just kept walking across the street, heading away from him.

Soon she’d have everything she’d need. The broker would have his life story, the phone would have his schedules and Alice would be paying her a fortune for all of this information.

If Brad wasn’t such a douchebag she’d almost feel bad that he alone would probably be paying for her new house. Though, he’d probably be very sorry for how he lived his life very soon.

He’d be lucky if he made it home tonight.

[fallen029]

Remember Me: Twists and Turns.1

The tiny space was filled with young children, filtering between the aisles, examining this and that. The shop's owner only rested an elbow against the counter top from where he watched them, his keen, well-trained eyes jumping around at expert speed as he observed them all. Every single one. To be certain there was no theft going on.

And, while at the moment there was not, there were a pair of thieves in the toy and candy shop.

"Ravan," the younger of the two complained as his brother only continued to fill a big baggie full of candy. "Can't I get a bag? And get my own candy?"

"Do you have your own jewels?"

"No."

"Then what are you asking me for? Go get your own jewels and you can do whatever the heck you want with them."

"Ravan-"

"Shuddup." And the older of the two shoved his brother, rather hard with an accompanying glare. From his mouth, he only spewed, "Go away."

So he did, stomping a bit. By a bit, literally only a few steps before, with his eyes filled with tears, he ran smack into someone else.

"Watch it, you stupid- Kai?" The latter part of this was said with even more of a growl than the first half. As the little boy blinked up into the blue eyes of Haven Dreyar, however, he only grinned. If she was there that meant-

"Marin," he cheered as he spotted her, across the shop, standing beside her father the guild master. Laxus was busy examining the price of a baby doll that Marin was excitedly hoping to take home and become just the best mother anyone could ever to, but both looked over at the sound of the boy's scream.

"Kai!" She was equally excited to see him for some unknown reason that only made Laxus sigh and shake his head.

It wasn't that he hated Ravan and Kai.

It's that he hated his daughters being friends with them.

The youngest though wasn't too bad. And Marin did need friends her own age, so she wasn't constantly being bullied by the older children. Kai was probably the best thing in Marin's life, currently, and Laxus couldn't hate that.

Too much.

"Hi, Master," the young boy giggled as he looked up at the man. Laxus only grunted though which got a giggle out of the boy.

"I'm gettin' a new baby doll," Marin explained to her friend with her own giggle. Then a thought came to her and, with eyes that looked far too much like her Aunt Lisanna's, she asked her father, "Aren't I? Daddy?"

It's not like he'd drag them both to the toy store without buying them something after all.

"Of course, Mar," he sighed as he handed over the box to her. "Let me go see what your sister wants, huh? You stay with K- You know what? You two come with me."

They had no problem with this as, both examining the cute little baby's face then, they followed her father without a complaint. Laxus, never one to care much for children in the first place (other than his own), tried hard not to make too many faces at the children that filter around the shop. It wasn't easy.

Haven had found herself, of course, very busy arguing with Ravan over by the candy where he'd abandoned his own task of filling a baggie to the brim just to argue back. This usually would make Laxus bark at them some, but at the moment, he was so out of his element that all he wanted to do was get back to it as fast as possible.

"Is that your dad, Haven?" Ravan asked though, considering the man was his guild master, this was beyond obvious. "Ha! You can't even go anywhere by yoruself, can you?"

"Yes, I can! Yes, I can! He's just here because-"

"You can both do this back at the hall," Laxus grumbled to them. "Haven, go pick out a toy. One toy. Then we gotta leave, huh? Before your sister rips this doll out of its box. Marin, I haven't paid for it yet, so don't- Did I tell you two to stop arguing, Haven? Marin, stop-"

"Oh, wow, Master!" he heard then from somewhere else. Great, he'd misplaced Kai….who he wasn't even in charge of to begin with. Sigh. "Come look at this! Ravan, can you buy me this?"

So they all had to go then, across the shop to where Kai had gotten off to. He was standing by the big wall that was lined with different toys ranging from action figures to plastic swords. None of those were his interest though. Oh, no.

Rather, it was a colorful cube that hung on a low shelf, not even in a package. Just resting there with a price tag beside it.

"What is it?" Marin asked as Haven, after seeing, only went off in search of something for herself. Something mature. Sophisticated. Something that would make Ravan jealous because he could never buy because he didn't have a dad that was guild master.

Actually, he didn't have a dad at all.

Haven would have felt sad for him, had she not known how much having a dad truly sucked.

Except when you were being spoiled for no good reason.

Then it was pretty okay.

Still annoying though.

"It's a puzzle cube," Laxus informed the children who were still standing there. "And it's hardly a toy at all."

Ravan sneered then, at his younger brother, before saying, "Then I'm definitely not buying it. Not that I was to begin with."

"But Ravan," Kai complained at this. "That's not fair!"

"It's my money, loser, so it is fair." And, with that Ravna turned to walk off. "Brat."

So Kai only stood there, eyes filling with tears, blurring his sight of the precious cube thing that he'd only just learned about and had no idea what did, but needed then. Desperately.

Though he and his brother had grown up in a poverty stricken coastal town where their main source of fun was hunting or fishing, they'd long since learned the ways of city children. The desires of childhood. The longing of meaningless items. It was a right of passage, almost, to be a big baby as you were drug through the bazaar by a parent, kicking and screaming for this or that. But only because it led to the biggest right of passage of all; eventually not doing that.

Kai had yet to hit the second passage though.

It just wasn't fair. At all. Ravan only had jewels because he went on jobs with the older kids. He could go on jobs too! Honestly, he could. But he had to stay behind at the guild to help Marin. What? Was she going to sit around and sip juice alone? Huh? Is that what the universe wanted?

Or did it just not want him to have his toy?

It felt like the latter.

As she watched her friend tear up, Marin felt that sharp ping of empathy she possessed too much of, balanced by the lack of it in her older sister. And, turning to her father, she said, "Daddy, can we get the toy? I'll put my baby back."

And Laxus groaned because he hated kids, gosh did he hate kids, but he loved his little baby and how could he ever tell her no?

Plus the damn cube was only twenty jewel. A steal, really.

Ravan waited outside the shop for his brother, sucking on some hard candy, watching people pass by. He figured he'd leave with the Dreyar girls and, if not, he'd have to go in after him. But his assumption was proven right, as Ravna felt he typically was anyways, when his brother came bouncing out holding his prized cube in one hand and Marin's in the other. Laxus was busy trying to pull Marin's stupid baby doll out of it's box (they made it so complicated) while Haven only pranced right over to Ravan.

"Shake my hand," she demanded, holding it out, and it caught him off guard a bit as he was too busy focusing on the fact that, apparently, Master had bought his brother his toy. Without any thought, he stuck his hand out and shook hers, only realizing what had happened when he felt a sharp, pronounced shock travel up and down his body.

She'd tricked him! That freaking jerk!

"Ow!" he yelled as he jerked away from her and Haven howled with laughter. If it was that fun shocking stinking Ravan, she couldn't wait to do it with others.

As Haven ran off though, yelling at her father over her shoulder that she was racing him back to the guild (Laxus hardly heard over his own grumbling about the box) and Ravan vowed his revenge after her, he remembered that he had something else on his mind as well.

"Why did you bother Master about buying you that?" he grumbled to his brother as he ran over to gripe at him. "You brat. I was gonna share my candy."

"I didn't want candy," he told his brother though, honestly, later he would be whining for some. "I wanted this!"

And he held his cube, in all it's solved glory, above his head in victory.

"What do you even do with it though?" Ravan asked him with a frown.

"I don't… What?"

"What," he repeated as Marin, still holding faithfully to Kai's hand, looked over quizzically as well, "does it do?"

"Um… Master?" Kai raised his head and lowered his hand then as he addressed the man. "What do I do with this?"

"Huh?" Frowning down at the kids, Laxus said, "You solve it."

"How?"

"You match up all the colors in rows."

"But...but it already is."

"That's 'cause it ain't been mixed up yet," Laxus explained and, before he could do anything about it, Ravan snatched the previous cube away from it's rightful owner and took to doing just that. Kai's complaints, however, did nothing to put an end to it.

And, once the cube was completely and utterly disarrayed, Ravan handed it back to the little boy.

"There," he said with a vicious smile. "Solve it."

But Ravan knew he never would and it was such a low down, dirty, mean thing to do, honestly, to ruin someone else's perfectly pre-solved cube like that! Kai was too sad about it to cry.

So instead, with a look of determination he typically only possessed in regards to his flower bed, the younger boy remarked, "I will."

Back at the guildhall, with her doll finally freed, Marin took to dutifully caring for it as Kai spent a good ten minutes giving his all into rotating and twisting his puzzle cube in hopes of solving it.

These hopes, of course, were misplaced.

"I'll never figure it out!" he cried out in frustration as Marin, with a frown, held her baby doll closer. Seeing this, he only sighed and whispered, "Sorry."

"It's okay," the other child said with a bit of a grin, looking down at her plastic baby then. "You didn't wake her."

"I just wanna figure this out," he told her as, defeated, he set the cube down on the table. "I wanna prove Ravan wrong! But...but I'm no good at nothin'."

"That's not true," she insisted with a frown. "You're gonna be a good papa to the baby, right?"

"Y-"

"Uncle."

And they both tilted their heads back to stare up at Laxus who only looked down at them disapprovingly.

"He can be an uncle to the baby," the slayer insisted and, well, that sounded as good as anything to Kai.

Uncles seemed like a lot of fun. Marin's were, at least.

"But why, Daddy?" Marin asked with a frown. "If I'm the mama then the baby needs-"

"He's," Laxus grumbled with a frown, "the uncle."

Which meant that it was final.

As Laxus went off to take care of guild business (get drunk and bemoan his life), Kai decided to give his cube another go. He was very busy doing that when Mirajane descended upon them with a plate for each of them, with a sandwiches cut into triangles and chips.

"Mommy, look at my baby!" Marin held it proudly up at her mother who only smiled back, reaching down to pat her child on the head. "And Kai's got...a toy, I think."

"It's a great toy," the boy defended with a frown. To Mrs. Master though, he only said, "I'm just not too good at it yet, is all."

"Ooh, a puzzle cube, huh?" Mira beamed at the sight. "That's quite the challenge."

"Did you have one, Mommy?" Marin asked to which the woman shook her head.

"Your Uncle Elf did though, when we were kids, I think, maybe," she said with a shrug. "Maybe ask him?"

"I'm an uncle now too, you know," Kai informed the woman. "To this baby, here."

"Really?"

"He was gonna be the papa," Marin said with a shrug, "but then Daddy said he coudln't be and had to be the uncle. I dunno why-"

"Laxus!" And Mira was off then, to go chew out her husband a bit. "Were you bothering the kids? You let them play how they want to play."

"I'm not having this conversation here, Mira," he complained from his table where Freed dutifully sat at his side, going over different papers with him. "And they can play how they want. So long as it doesn't involve him being the father of her pretend baby."

"You're terrible, you know that?"

"I'm well aware."

But Marin and Kai were back in their own world then which, for the latter of the two, meant throwing his entire attention into the lunch he'd been presented with and giving little regard to anything else. They were in the middle of that when the guildhall doors open and loud commotion began to float around the hall. Nothing bad though. No way. Rather, it was the arrival of Team Natsu.

The most important member of that team, however, was Kai's main concern.

"Erza!" he yelled as she came over to the pair the second she saw them, sporting a wry grin as she approached. "You're back!"

"I said I would be, after all," she remarked as she stood before their table. "Should I presume that you bought and paid for this lunch that you are eating all on your own, Kai?"

"No," he giggled with a grin. "Mrs. Master gave it to me. But I didn't beg for it or nothing! She just wanted to, I think, because she likes me so much."

Erza's disapproving look wasn't enough to make Kai even think about ever paying for thing she could get for free though.

"Where's your brother then?" she asked. "Off on a job, I hope?"

"Haven shocked him with a secret trick hand buzzer thing and now they're fighting out behind the guildhall," Kai explained to which Marin nodded. Frowning, Erza turned then, off to go see about this.

And mainly scold them for not taking jobs nearly as frequently as she did as a child.

How did these children ever hope of purchasing a home if they never saved? She didn't wish to see Ravan and his younger brother out of her home, of course, but in the future, it was only natural that they would choose their own path. Find their own destiny.

How was she, then, to brag about their accomplishments when they didn't have the drive to accomplish them?

It was infuriating.

After Erza left though, Navi came over, having just returned from being on the job with her father and his friends. Before she had a chance to ask Marin where her older sister was, Kai asked a question of his own.

"Do you know how to solve one of these?" he asked, holding out his cube to the older girl. As she slide into the seat at the table across from the two of them, Navi only frowned.

Examining the cube closer, she asked, "Where'd you get it?"

"Toy shop," Kai explained.

"What are you supposed to do?" Navi sent on.

"Match up all the colors."

For a moment, the pink haired child considered all the different ways to accomplish this. She even picked up the cube and gave it a few twists and turns herself. Still, in the end, she only set it down with a shrug.

"Nope," she told the other two, "I dunno how to solve it either. Looks like a pretty boring toy too."

"Yeah," Kai sighed as, cradling her baby in one arm, Marin reached over with the other to pat at his back. "I know."

That night, back at home, Kai was very busy in his room, flipping throat comic books and getting ready for bed when Ravan came in. He was off to shower and was coming to get a change of clothes, but paused then, just to sneer over at where his brother laid on the bottom bunk.

"What are you doing, loser?" he asked as Kai only glared. "Still having solved it yet, have you?"

"I… I'm taking a break!"

"Whatever. You're never going to do it."

"Yes, I am!"

"Bet."

There was a glare going on then and Kai knew what would happen if he spoke his next words, but he did them anyways. Because in the terrible caste system that was brotherhood, you never didn't say them.

Even when you knew that they would be your demise.

"Bet."

And it was on then as Ravan, smiling in victory already, only remarked, "I bet you that before I get back from my next job, you won't have it finished."

"I bet I will."

"Bet you won't."

"And when I do?"

"You won't," Ravan insisted. "And when you don't, you have to… You have to be my arrow boy for an entire month!"

"No!" Kai griped. The title sounded cool enough. Arrow boy. Like a sidekick in a comic book. But it was actually terrible. It meant that, when Ravan was practicing his bow (which Erza insisted he do alongside his sword training), Kai had to go around and collect any arrows that missed their mark. If that wasn't bad enough, sometimes Ravan would purposely attempt to shoot at him while this was happening and it was all just so traumatic.

"Yes," Ravan insisted with a glare.

"Fine! But when I do it-"

"You won't."

"-you have to… You have to take me on a job!"

"Gross."

"One that I can do," the younger boy kept up. "And...and we split the profits."

"You can't do anything."

"I can do lots of stuff!"

"Fine," Ravan said with a shake of his head. "It's not like you're going to ever solve it anyways."

"Yes, I will," Kai insisted. Then, with the determination he usually reserved for eating, he added, "Just you wait."

I was asked for some Remember Me stuff, so what's better than a short little story, huh? Five chapters this time. For those who didn't find it obvious, Kai's playing with a Rubik's cube of sorts, but considering that's named after the man who invited it back in the 70s, calling it that wouldn't make much sense in this context, so puzzle cube it is, huh? This one's gonna be heavy on Bixanna, I think, but most everyone will be touched on from this serious. Now let's fucking finish something again, huh?

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