#the coffee is delicious and I have absolutely ordered a canned version

[homoeroticgrappling]

[blues824]

Continuing the TWST Boys Go to Reader's World??? headcanons, can I have the Third Years this time?

Reader is mentioned and only pronouns used are secondary pronouns. The amount of research going into this 😥😥

Trey Clover

Favorite Country/City: A lot of treats that he makes are from France, so I believe he would love being on the tasting side of the whole ordeal. Plus, candied violets (originally called violettes cristallisees) originate from there as well. As for his favorite city, it’s basic but it’s Paris. It’s the dessert capital of France, so yeah.

Favorite Cuisine/Dish: He is a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to multiple different cuisines, as people from all over have come to his family’s bakery. However, if he had to choose one, it would have to be Spanish cuisine. He just strikes me as the type. French food would come in second, but we are going by entrees and not desserts.

Favorite Drink: I feel like he would be a bit tired of tea, and coffee goes well with a lot of sweets but sometimes he wants something else. So, hot chocolate is a great go-to. Plus, you can spike it with bourbon or rum and many other things, and he prefers bourbon.

Favorite Souvenir: A cognac that he has used to cook multiple different things. He picked it up at a small shop in France, and the brandy is great for making sauces and for deglazing a pan. He rarely drinks it, but it’s of great quality.

Favorite Singers/Songs: He is an old soul, and with that being said, he likes older music. I feel like he would like songs in different languages as well. So, I think he would like the song Nunca es Suficiente, the Natalia Lafourcade version.

Favorite Movie: He doesn’t have a favorite movie, but rather favorite shows. He loves Nailed It!, Zumbo’s Just Desserts, Sugar Rush, but most importantly: The Great British Baking Show.

Cater Diamond

Favorite Country/City: This guy is hard because he would want to go absolutely everywhere and he would love everywhere he travels to. However, he would say that he loved Japan the most, as the people were very friendly and it was the first time he actually tried hard to learn the language so that he could be respectful.

Favorite Cuisine/Dish: His canonical favorite food is spicy ramen, so I would say Japanese cuisine would be his favorite. But, he has a more diverse taste than just that, so he would probably like Eastern Asian cuisine as a whole. It has a lot of savory and spicy foods that he absolutely loves.

Favorite Drink: He is also a margarita lover, and even though a lot of them are sweet, they are still delicious. However, he orders salt rather than sugar on the rim of the cup because he doesn’t want extra sweetness from sugar.

Favorite Souvenir: He picked up a pair of chopsticks that he always uses. He has finally got chopstick etiquette down, and the set he purchased at a souvenir shop served as a reminder of his hard work.

Favorite Singers/Songs: He is so into both K-Pop and J-Pop that it’s not even funny. He is one of those fans that will tear you up if you didn’t know the words, their meaning, who all the members in the specific group are, etc.

Favorite Movie: I had no idea he was into skateboarding, so I have to say that his favorite movie is Dogtown and Z-Boys. It’s a documentary-type film about the Zephyr skateboard team who helped develop modern skateboarding in the ‘70’s.

Leona Kingscholar

Favorite Country/City: He is not one to travel voluntarily, so you would have to drag him places. He does want to spoil you, so he will (hesitantly) go along with you. If he had to choose a favorite, it would be Sudan. He doesn’t have a favorite city, but rather a favorite state: the River Nile state. It holds the Meroë Pyramids, and he thought it was pretty cool that Sudan has the most pyramids in the world.

Favorite Cuisine: Pretty far from Sudan, but Argentinian food would be his favorite. They are known for having the best beef, and Leona loves having a good steak. The only downside is that it’s usually served with a few veggies or a chimichurri sauce composed of vegetables.

Favorite Drink: He doesn’t really care, so I would think that he likes beer. He strikes me as the type to have a glass bottle of beer that he holds nearer to his hip; the traditional uncle (Unca) pose.

Favorite Souvenir: When he first went to Sudan, he dressed to fit along with local traditions. He wore a jalabiya in order to maintain modesty, and he actually liked it and hung it in his closet for the next time he visited a country that prefers modesty.

Favorite Singers/Songs: It started as him getting into his edgy phase, but he did not want to go emo. He prefers rock, specifically AC/DC. His favorite song is Highway to Hell.

Favorite Movie: He usually falls asleep during every movie he watches. However, he did like the movie Silence of the Lambs. The way it left him disturbed and on-guard as well as made him want to stay awake is the reason why he would like such a gruesome movie.

Vil Schoenheit

Favorite Country/City: Cologne, Germany. I’ve always wanted to visit, and it was one of my hyperfixations for a while, but that’s besides the point. The point is that Vil strives for perfection. Part of that is smelling great. Surprise, surprise: cologne originates from Cologne. However, the Cologne Cathedral was beautiful as well.

Favorite Cuisine: I feel like he would like Japanese food as his go-to, as a lot of their food is a lot healthier than others and he strives to be healthy. However, he would like Greek food if he were just going off of personal preference. Briam would probably be his favorite dish.

Favorite Drink: Do smoothies count as food or drinks? People have them for breakfast as they have fruits and veggies, but you ‘drink’ a smoothie. Anyways, his favorite alcoholic drink would be a martini. He is classy and elegant, just like the drink.

Favorite Souvenir: A piece of the Berlin Wall. The history behind it fascinated Vil, and he considers it his most prized souvenir.

Favorite Singers/Songs: Lovefool by Postmodern Jukebox (feat. Haley Reinhart). He heard it from a co-star, and he liked it. Yes, he continues his career in your world.

Favorite Movie: Breakfast at Tiffany’s, as I believe that he loves Audrey Hepburn’s acting in that movie. He also likes Gentlemen Prefer Blondes because of Marilyn Monroe and her iconic character in that movie.

Rook Hunt

Favorite Country/City: The city of love, the city of lights, Paris. As much as I didn’t want to do such a basic answer, he is a connoisseur of beauty, and Paris at night is a sight to behold. Plus, he speaks French, so why not go to the motherland of the French language?

Favorite Cuisine: His favorite food is canonically liver pâté, so I believe he would love French cuisine the most. However, I would say that Danish cuisine comes second, as they have something similar (a dish that is derived from liver pâté: leverpostej).

Favorite Drink: A French 75 goes a long way with this man. He loves a champagne cocktail. They are typically for celebrations, and Rook just wishes to celebrate life and beauty as a whole. No, he’s not an alcoholic, but when he feels content and exceedingly happy he won’t hesitate in indulging himself with one glass.

Favorite Souvenir: A lavender perfume. He loves how relaxing the smell is.

Favorite Singers/Songs: His favorite song is Love Like You, by Caleb Hyles. Look at the lyrics, and you will see why lol.

Favorite Movie: The Notebook, as it’s a classic film filled with romance. You also cannot tell me that this man is not looking for the Allie to his Noah. He wants a romance story in his life, and that’s why he travels so much.

Idia Shroud

Favorite Country/City: I can’t decide between Greece and Japan, so I will say that they are tied on Idia’s list. The gamer boy doesn’t really go outside, but when he traveled to these places he absolutely loved it. He’s kind of simple, where he liked the capitals Athens and Tokyo the most.

Favorite Cuisine: His favorite food is just listed as ‘sweets’, and he hates raw fish. We are not going by desserts, but rather overall food, and luckily fish can be replaced by protein alternatives. Plus, the fish can be cooked. That being said, Chinese food would be his favorite. He loves the dragon’s beard candy.

Favorite Drink: He rarely ever drinks alcoholic drinks, as he is already very weak in build (remember his family’s curse?). Adding alcohol to the mix would be a disaster. However, he might like a light beer.

Favorite Souvenir: He likes board games, and while he was in Greece he learned to play Tavli, or Backgammon, and he purchased a board so that he could continue to play it with opponents.

Favorite Singers/Songs: He likes anime intros and outros, and like Cater he is very big on K-Pop and J-Pop, but also C-Pop and T-Pop. His favorite song is 夜に駆ける(Yoru ni Kakeru), by YOASOBI.

Favorite Movie: Your Name, as the two travel just to meet each other, but they have to get used to their new environments first.

Malleus Draconia

Favorite Country/City: He loves Denmark’s castles, but specifically the Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen. It houses the Danish Crown Jewels as well as the Coronation Robe, and the history behind each item fascinated the draconian prince. The Notre Dame Cathedral in France comes in second for its gargoyles.

Favorite Cuisine: Again, we go by overall cuisine rather than the desserts (otherwise he would choose the cuisines that contributed to ice cream’s existence). He actually can’t choose a favorite, as all is better than Lilia’s cooking. He does have a least favorite, and it’s modern American food. His favorite type of food is street food, as it really allows him to surround himself with the locals and just be normal.

Favorite Drink: He doesn’t believe alcohol is necessary to have fun, but he will indulge himself from time to time. His favorite is a cocktail called a ‘Corpse Reviver’. It’s a morbid name, but it’s the one thing that magic can’t do. He likes when red food coloring is added, as it makes his tongue red.

Favorite Souvenir: Bro probably has enough money to actually purchase the Danish Crown Jewels as well as the English Crown Jewels tbh. Anyways, he actually treasures a book he picked up called ‘Once Upon a Broken Heart’. He was unaware that it was the first book of a sequel series, so he purchased the rest as well as the original series, ‘Caraval’.

Favorite Singers/Songs: His talent is listed as ‘stringed instruments’, but his relent would go beyond just the typical instruments you think of. Is an electric guitar not a stringed instrument? This man is in a 5 Finger Death Punch phase, favorite song being Wrong Side of Heaven.

Favorite Movie: He loves Sleeping Beauty, mostly because of that scene with Aurora and Prince Phillip where they dance together in the forest. Also, he related to Maleficent because she was not invited to see the princess.

Lilia Vanrouge

Favorite Country/City: His hobby is traveling alone, and I feel like he wouldn’t have a favorite location. He has been everywhere, and the only place he gravitated towards was Brazil. He went to that year’s Carnaval celebration and he actually really liked it. The parade floats were big and beautiful, there were many lights; it was just fun in general. The city of São Paulo comes to mind, as it’s the biggest city by population.

Favorite Cuisine: Part of why he likes Brazil is the food. Tomatoes originate from South America, and Brazil’s dishes hit different (I don’t think I’ve been to an authentic Brazilian food place, but from what I can see and from what I’ve tasted, I love it).

Favorite Drink: In the Trivia section of his Wiki page, it says that he likes potions that are said to taste bitter by everyone else. That being said, I feel like this would transfer to alcoholic drinks, so his favorite drink might be a negroni. It’s a bit bitter, so it suits his taste.

Favorite Souvenir: He picked up some spices in his travels to “better” his cooking (it didn’t help at all; his cooking still sucks even if he’s seen other people do the dishes he's trying to make).

Favorite Singers/Songs: He is what boomers would call “hip and trendy”, so he likes whatever is popular at the moment. Yes, this includes the meme songs that might go viral on TikTok, Instagram, and YT Shorts. At the time of writing this, his favorite song would be Paint the Town Red, by Doja Cat.

Favorite Movie: He liked the movie Crimson Peak. The costumes as well as the acting were amazing, and he loves learning about the Victorian Era and how both England and the United States were developing during the industrial era.

[pocima]

My seasonal music highlights: winter 2024 🧣

Welcome to a new series of my silly music-blogging. Starting it because I want to regularly properly write about and describe the songs I enjoy, and to present my own candidates for the unofficial “song of the season” awards. I already started an annual fav list for albums/EPs and wanted something less major and more presentable as a little playlist, not really in particular order. Enjoy! Note that I kept the list one song per artist, most have incredible new releases outside of the ones focused on, these are just my picks for the season or my most played. And let me tell you, countless artists are dropping new music and projects left and right and I’m getting FED. This list alone is extremely abundant and we’re barely 2 full months into the year. The competition for this year’s personal favorite album spots and the highlights for the next seasons is about to be real tough. Can’t wait. (GIF source: MV for Cyberia by Meth Math.)

❅ winter again - 4s4ki

What better way to start a songs of the winter list than with THE anthem of this winter season? With her ability to not only pull off but absolutely excel at the different genres she incorporates into her music, 4s4ki simply never disappoints. She went into the studio with a mission to give the famous Last Christmas by Wham! a true successor and the mission was wonderfully accomplished. In this mellow 80s pop influenced track, she channels her inner Cocteau Twins (word to that one YouTube comment in the lyric video) while longing for a loved one that didn’t seem to stay by her side not even to have some canned coffee and bento this holiday season. Now I’m gonna channel my inner platonic delulu and say that it was released just on time, when I was discovering and especially feeling Boy Harsher’s alternative 80s inspired music (collab when?). Ironic how a self-described reverse Christmas song ended up doubling my winter spirits. She never fails to give me exactly what I need. I love this woman. (Big ups to Magic sword but as I mentioned I’m keeping the list one song per artist.)

❅ 4eva - Shygirl feat. Empress Of

You know from my username that I’ve been loving what Shygirl has had to offer for quite a while now, and 4eva was my personal post-Nymph jam ever since I heard a snippet of it back in last September and neither the full studio version nor my intuition let me down. Shygirl’s rapping and Empress Of’s verse over the Kingdom-produced delicious wobbly synths indeed stay playing on my mind. Empress Of’s feature came as a tracklist surprise and I’m more grateful for it than I had expected. The jungle drums in the chorus, and honestly the structure of the song in general were unexpected to me as well, but nevertheless they took part in forming possibly my favorite dance track of 2024. Both the Club Shy EP and 4eva have secured firm spots in my favorites of the year.

❅ Deer Teeth - Sega Bodega

Father of music, first ever man in the music industry, smash hit sorcerer, my favorite producer of all time… However you may refer to Sega Bodega, you can always rely on him to create an entire universe in one record and take you there and back. With Deer Teeth, he tells a story of a sighting of a late mother laid to rest with her child in a swan’s wings along with 200 deer teeth (hence the song title), which brings with itself a tale of hope, sacrifice and eternity. With reversed and distorted vocals, the addition of Mayah Alkhateri’s siren-like voice and obviously Sega’s otherworldly production style, the tale transforms into a cinematic masterpiece in sound form. Extra note: perfect to fall asleep to in a road trip, tried and tested. Both Deer Teeth and his newer single Set Me Free, I’m an Animal are stunning masterpieces, and I know this will make my year-end album list real predictable but SB3 is the most solid candidate for the top spot as of right now. Save me Sega Bodega, save me…

❅ Ex-Girlfriend - Erika de Casier feat. Shygirl

New slow R&B earworms drawing on different nostalgic genres couldn’t be more perfect for the chilly season, especially when they’re delivered by the one and only Erika de Casier. She has this ability to mix the best musical aspects of the near past (namely the 90s/00s) with her very own sensuality, freshness and uniqueness. Her soft vocals over a down-tempo R&B beat to match come after an orchestral, arguably dramatic intro and the melancholic, yearning yet cocky-ish tone is set. Shygirl’s deep, almost raspy voice always shines with slow, gloomy instrumentals (also seen in Lapdance from Asia by Cosha) and this track was no exception, matter of fact it’s now certainly one of my favorite features of hers. I will be returning to this song not only on the colder days of March, but the whole year, or rather until it’s wiped off existence completely.

❅ Cyberia - Meth Math

Before the quirky experimental trio’s slightly overdue, highly anticipated debut album Chupetones (go give the best b-side Pócima a listen too), they released 4 singles and I was not at all aware beforehand of the release of the third one. Pressed play, was impressed, pressed the loop button and the rest (at least 80 plays within the first week) was history. The intro immediately catches your attention, and the descriptions of a sad-looking happily-dancing angel over toot sounds, ripping synths and bonking bass transition into happy hardcore perfection. The 3-second bit before the second chorus gets me the most, it’s like a minuscule break to slow down and reflect on the all the absurdity before resuming the alien dancefloor madness. This banger completes my Meth Math song holy trinity, which is now Tambaleo-Fantasía Final-Cyberia. Add Pócima into the mix if you wanna form the four horsemen. Whatever your personal favorite may be, we can all agree that Meth Math always come at us with excellence.

❅ dOpamine - OnlyOneOf

Hallelujah. We have finally reached an era where all lyOns can live in harmony and sleep in peace instead of fighting over title tracks and new lows for the group’s flaming hot garbage record label. Even their biggest haters (so-called “fans” with a strange superiority complex) were finally praising an OnlyOneOf title track, and with how good it really is I’d be admiring their dedication to hating their own faves if they didn’t. Anyway, dOpamine is one of their best, it really is. I’ve been hoping for them to get on the drum & bass train for quite a while now, and they did it with a bright, twinkling, breakbeat-incorporating twist. They don’t lazily dip their toes into dnb and breakcore and leave it at that though, the buildups and structure of the track stay fascinating and the bridge drifts (should I intend the pun?) into their gritty industrial side before the outro closing out the song on a vocally strong, passionate but never over-the-top note. While the whole mini is exquisite, the lead single ended up being my favorite. Simply put, OnlyOneOf never fail to deliver quality K-pop against all odds.

❅ Sorbet - Kelela (LSDXOXO Remix)

The pre-release singles off of the RAVE:N remix album were all incredible just like its album tracks, however this gem is particularly lingering on me and my February mood. This spin on Sorbet encapsulates the AM club aspect of the project in one re-envisioned tune. Kelela and LSDXOXO, who produced and remixed numerous of her songs, reunite as a power duo to turn the dulcet, sedate Sorbet into a Eurodance-coded amped-up slapper that will get anyone moving. You can tell the song is DJ set opener material from when the first beat kick. The chorus melody sticks to your mind and the late night-like sonic experience becomes unforgettable. The special encounter requiring dim lighting is now set in a flashy rave scene. Completely flipped scenario yet everything makes perfect sense. All in all, Kelela’s vision for her dance records is 20/20 and LSDXOXO’s execution never leaves you hanging either.

❅ Fuetazo - Isabella Lovestory feat. Villano Antillano

Born to embody camp, forced… no, also born to be a hit maker. Isabella is undebatably one of the freshest, most outstanding figures of neoperreo and neoreggaeton, and her eccentric flare still comes through in a single as a (hopefully) pre-album snack. Fuetazo was released early into the season and closed out Isabella’s activities for the year. While the playful chorus introduces a whip that comes and goes, Villano Antillano mentions vacations and 42-inch weaves with her tone that meshes with the cheekiness of the track, and their chopped up vocal bits go back-and-forth in the outro. With the Chicken, Kamixlo and Dinamarca producer trio, the instrumentals can’t go wrong. The hard-hitting dembow drums and the lighter synths and other aspects of the song create a contrast that feels like a breeze, maybe more of a summer one even but a confidence booster gots to stay on rotation regardless of weather or temperature.

❅ Messy Room - The Deep (+ mini EP review)

Had I postponed the release of my 2023 fave project list just a little, the Messy Room EP would have at least scored an honorable mention. For those who need a quick debrief: The Deep is an independent K-alternative artist whose discography radiates coziness and sweetness. Mayhaps I should say sugar, spice and everything nice. Taking part in the production of her music, creative direction and visual curation, she ticks all the boxes for the bedroom pop star that should’ve reached her target audience ages ago. While she’s taken inspiration from R&B and indie and still does, “resurfaced” genres such as UK garage, dnb and Jersey club are fairly newer additions to her range. I love all of these genres as you could tell and I adore the songs in which she uses them (got into her through the UKG bop Muah!), but surprisingly the track that glanced at her “roots” hooked me in the most. Maybe it’s because it contains the core “messy room” atmosphere of the EP, maybe it’s her soft vocals shining brightly, maybe it’s because she has the recipe to making a tune to unwind to. I hope this praise doesn’t sound like a jab at the rest of the EP because not a single skip is detected over there. In Brand New House and BAPPI, The Deep talks about deserving the luxuries and getting to the bag over garage and house beats. bow wow is about confidence despite troubles and annoyances, while 20’s is a self-reflection on the constant search for perfection and attempts to heal. The project is most definitely worth checking out if you want a bit of calm, refreshing new music, or if you’re looking for a multi-skilled artist to support.

One line section (music I loved but honestly don’t have as much to say about, so I fit my thoughts into one line/sentence)

❆ Gold On Me: Mother ABRA is back and I’m definitely checking out Groupthink after this, now it’s time for the album innit 🍽️ (should’ve definitely written about this in more detail but maybe another time soz)

❆ 4 noviosS: While everyone came to Club Shy to play, she entered with pen and paper and a goal.

❆ Perdió Este Culo: I have to give flowers where they’re due, I wish the La Joia album had more quality of this level though. (However shoutout to Sexy, La Que No Se Mueva and Sin Carné.)

❆ TYOSTAR: Can’t tell if their music is aimed at dudebros (disgustingly irritating audience) or hyperpop girlies (slightly less irritating audience) but they scored a night ride hit either way, definitely one of Starkids’ finest to date.

Thankies for getting here, and shoutout to @chuuuvi for pretty much directly fueling my writing process and inspo and @a-moth-to-the-light for inspo as well 😁

[darlingpassion]

Merry Christmas! ^^ I'm hoping you're asleep now so you see this when you wake up- but if not Merry Early Christmas! XD

Obviously you deserve F/O imagines too ^^ This year has been a big one, getting your license and a car and everything, and I'm so proud of you! Merry Christmas ^^

~

Imagine spending a cosy Christmas with Tiffany in her trailer <3 You two sit down in front of a little portable heater and a little satellite TV and watch Its a Wonderful Life on free-to-air, your thick-tights-covered legs tangled up together escaping the cold. She makes hot chocolates (with some coffee in them. I remember you like coffee? Forget it if I'm wrong XD) absolutely heaping with fluffy mini marshmallows (And whipped cream, which she brings with her to the TV ^^ 'Splurged for us and got the good, thick stuff! Cuz ya deserve it, sweetface! Merry Christmas, babydoll') and you order in pizza or Chinese food! Its not a traditional Christmas but its you two, and warm feelings, and absolutely no Chucky XD

Imagine spending your first Christmas away from your family, on Captain Silver's ship with your mate, Scroop. You're feeling a little forlorn, missing seeing your grandparents during the season, and he doesn't get it (They don't have such festivities where he comes from- nor such attachments to blood relatives. Just mates.), he might even tease you a little-- BUT, when he learns about the mistletoe tradition he's suddenly very interested~ XD 'So any time that you step under this weed, we have to kiss?~ Hmmmm... '

Imagine spending a fun Christmas in Pleasant Valley with Harper. They have a whole festival for Christmas, and you and him help decorate together. He holds the ladder carefully while you climb up to decorate their giant tree in the centre of town and holds you hand when you're getting down like a gentleman. He lets you set a santa hat on his head (He doesn't quite understand the significance but he sure thinks you're cute), his hands on your waist and a handsome bemused smirk on his face, and keeps it on. He brings your gloves and keeps them in his back pocket until you need them whenever you forget. He uses tinsel to wrap around you waist and draw you closer to him... 'Now Miss Sarah, when're you gonna pay some attention to me, and not that dang tree, huh?... bet they can handle the rest a' this without us, right?'

Imagine spending a quiet Christmas in the store alone with Audrey II. You're humming your favourite Christmas song and putting up some pretty lights while nibbling on christmas cookies (Shortbread with dusted sugar, gingersnaps, sugar cookies with red and green frosting- whatever you like best ^^) and they're watching you with the most rivited, pleased smirk on their big grotesque plant-face. Like this adorable lil bud is all mine!??- hell yes. How'd a shrub like me get so damn lucky? Eventually they have to disturb the peace and wrap a vine around you, guiding you towards his pot and telling you how goddamn cute you are. How sweet. How delicious. How perfect. He's gonna make your christmas the best you ever had- but first he's gonna need to kiss ya on that pretty face ^^

Imagine spending your Christmas asleep in your bed by 6.30, eager to spend it with your rockabilly babe. He's waiting for you, high off the christmas buzz (And his version of eggnog. And the fact that you're here now. And he's own constant buzz), reindeer antler headband on his head and humming a Christmas carol (You can tell he's been rocking out to carols all day long). He immediately catches you and, starting to sing out the lyrics to Baby Its Cold Outside in his own rock & roll style, dances with you a little- dipping you at the end. Of course he had to serenade you, singing to you possibly one of the creepiest Christmas love songs, but it makes you laugh and thats all he was lookin for (; Throughout the rest of the night you get caught by the mistletoe in his pocket multiple times (Your lips start to feel tingly but you're not complaining XD) and drink eggnog you can taste clear as day on his tongue.

Again- Merry Christmas! I hope you have a wonderful relaxing time! ^^

RAHHHHHH I got too obsessed with the Killer Patrol AU last night I completely forgot to answer these!!!

AND I AM STILL DYING OVER THEM!!!

BRO I STILL CAN'T PROPERLY TELL YOU HOW MUCH I LOVE THESE!!!

Harper calling me by name, I gotta say, was what got to me the most XD like- watching my F/O's obsessively is one thing. Thinking about interacting with them is one thing. But them saying my n a m e??? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I'm internally screaming just thinking about it!!! And Harper wrapping tinsel around me?? Pulling me close?? Needing my attention?? wwsdggdfghtdrer7hewwshjhgrwdgyedftrdd4!!!!

And- And Tiffany calling me Babydoll??? AUDREY pulling me close and calling me delicious!?!? SCROOP WANTING KISSES!?!? PARTYING WITH RUSS!?!!? OH MY GODDDDDD!!!!!!!!

God I wish I could snuggke this prompts and hold them to my heart!! Thank you so much for this Christmas gift! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜

[giftdubaionline]

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[cartierbin]

pairing -- dilf!minho x reader

genre -- single father dilf!minho fucking you on his coffee table

word count -- 1.4k 』

smut under the cut !

"just one more daddy! one more pleaseee!". her high pitched voice pleaded while she turned her pink lips into a tiny frown. minho shook his head no and bends to give her a light kiss on her nose. "not tonight princess. it's late, don't you want to be happy and awake when you wake up for school tomorrow?". she kicked her feet up under the blankets a little. "but daddy! I like when you read to me". whenever she pouted her lips like this she looked like a miniature version of her father. only, she had two curly pigtails and pretty silk ribbons tied around them. "and daddy loves reading to you but we got back home late today. we've been out shopping all day". she nods, kind of understanding where he was coming from because even she was a little worn out from walking around the mall. "can I still wear my new dresses to school tomorrow?". he proceeds to turn on her night light, letting the glowing pink clouds cover her ceiling. "you can wear anything you want". she smiles at that answer, roping her tiny arms around his neck. "I love you daddy. Night night!".

"goodnight madison. I love you too. give daddy kisses". she giggled watching him pucker his lips, she thought he looked ridiculous. she mushes her tiny lips on his before lying back down, cuddling with her unicorn stuffy. Hearing the bed routine from the kitchen even made you smile a little. Minho was so adorable to her and his love for being a father is what attracted you in the first place. Especially when he was the complete opposite whenever your clothes were off.

With both of his arms perched on the top of the couch, minho draws his head back, eyes half lidded and staring at the ceiling with a long groan tugging at his lips. his heavy breaths were unstable while you were between his legs sucking him off like it was the only thing you knew how to do. you and minho have been playing this game for a while. after a mind blowing one night stand it was mutual pining between the both of you. some days minho acted like he wanted a relationship and other days he just wanted to fill you. you never knew if you'd actually be his girlfriend or if you were just a fling to him but nothing compared to the way he fucked you.

The messy sounds of your mouth and muffled needy noises was enough to make his pupils dilate in bliss. "fuck". he murmurs in a tone much harsher than the one he uses with his daughter. He threads his veiny hands between the strands of your hair and fists it. He always gripped it until you were whining from the tightness of his grasp. He didn't give a damn he loved watching you cry. he thought you deserved it for how lazy you were. "wrap your tongue around it and suck me like you've got some fucking sense". his tone felt like a blade. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were hooded and darkened while he watched you struggle to follow his orders. you use your tongue this time around trying to please him in a way he liked. You didn't get much of a reaction until you decided to slide it between the slit.

his hips jerked up in your mouth at the sudden feeling. his head fell back again and he began slowly thrusting himself between your wet swollen lips. "relax your throat". He released a heap of satisfied breaths when you lazed your mouth completely, letting him use you just the way he wanted. the vibrations of your moans encased his throbbing erection and everything felt so sloppy. your saliva was dribbling down your chin and his precum was coating your lips like gloss. The better it felt to him, the rougher he fisted your hair. "It hurts don't it?". with tears rimming your eyes you nodded as best as you could, feeling his voice send a tremor straight down to your creaming folds. "yet your pussy is probably soaking wet from this isn't it?". he smirked at your helpless face in a mixture pleasure and pain, he curled his tongue along his lips content with the way he was making you feel. He loved humiliating you. you nod your head yes with a flutter of throbs making your knees buckle beneath you.

he mushed your face against the coffee table while he fucked into you mercilessly. He held little regard for how much your knees was burning while they rubbed against the carpet or how much he was bruising your skin from slapping it. That was just like minho, he fucked you like he didn't give a damn about you and no matter how much it hurt it turned you on. "fucking hell", his groans were just as hot as the squeaking sounds of the table, bolts loosening with each thrust. His dick was thick and throbbing while he was ramming it into the places that made your state of mind diminish. you whimpered and moaned in choked up breaths begging for him to slow down all while knowing you didn't want him to. he crimped a finger into your mouth for you to suck on while your skin brutally slapped together. "don't you fucking wake my daughter". with his body draped over yours like this he decided to rail you a little harder and more abrupt, jolting your body upwards while you hiccuped in his grasp. your eyes dry sobbed at the way he was now spearing you with his dick, which felt way too good for him to be trying to silence anything.

The table was still barely holding on at this pace, the gushy sounds each time he entered you had his sweaty chest rising and falling deeply. He loved seeing you splayed out like this. Your plump ass and bare thighs exposed was like a blank canvas for an artist. "you must think you're funny clenching around my dick like that huh?". he gives a breathless chuckle. your eyes roll to the back of your head as he pins your waist to the edge of the table now, hawk spitting on your ass before digging his fingernails into the skin of it. He rocks his dick into you ruthlessly and you could already feel the burn wounds forming at your knees. your legs trembled for strength and your brain scrambled for a peace of mind. "it feels", you took a short pause just to release your shaky breaths, "it feels so fucking good". he tilts his head back with a curse word sputtering into the air above him. he was in absolute heaven buried balls deep inside you from this angle. "so fucking tight-- your pussy is so fucking tight baby". minho's groans alone could make you cum. his voice was always dark and gruff whenever you two were fucking. you held the top edge of the table with your shaking body in prime pre orgasm. suspended above you he sinks his teeth into the skin of your neck while his hand clawed at the back of your thighs. your meek needy moans resounded deliciously off the living room walls.

"that's it. be a good girl and cream all over it". with your eyes widened and your mouth now agape you clenched around him once more until a steady flow of your juices was sliding down your thighs. you spasmed while he milked you of everything you had, fucking you into overstimulation. Seeing his dick now glistening every time it parted your sopping folds was a weakness of his which made him cum twofold. He made a complete mess of you splattering it all over your ass and thighs.

He takes two of his fingers and slides them inside of you just to suck them right after. your pussy throbbed a little just watching him genuinely enjoy the taste of you. It gave you a bit of reassurance after he fucked you to wit's end. "do I taste good enough for you?". you teased with your chest still heaving. he leaned over and sloppily tongue kissed you. you could tell he planned on coming back up but instead he didn't. He let his tongue wander your mouth for a little longer while you kissed back and you'll admit his kisses were just as hypnotizing as his sex. His fingers traveled down to your clit and he began rubbing the now slippery organ softly, you could feel the familiar fire smoldering at the pit of your stomach once again.

He couldn't get enough of you and he knew it.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror Villains x Reader || Reactions

Reacting to: Reader getting slipped a love potion so whoever they see first, they fall madly in absolute and total love and adoration of. They first see Slasher. Notes: Yep, I've been watching scenes of Strange Magic. This is because of that. I definitely recommend listening to a version of 'I Cant Help Myself (Sugar Pie, Honey Bunch)' while reading XD I'm listening to the Jessica Mauboy cover! ^^

Warnings: Definitely non con elements (Not sexual though) Characters Included: Billy Loomis, Bubba Sawyer, (Mayor) Buckman, Carrie White, Chucky / Charles Lee Ray, Chop Top Sawyer, Drayton Sawyer, Freddy Krueger, Jennifer Check, (Sheriff), Hoyt, Jason Voorhees, Michael Myers, Patrick Bateman, Pennywise (OG), Stu Macher and Thomas Hewitt.

Billy Loomis:

🎶'I can't help myself'🎶

What.

What kinda - bullshit- leave me the fuck alone-

Honestly he's trying to get the hell away from you (As you tail him) while Stu's at the side texting you where they're gonna be and laughing his bloody ass off when you turn up and Billy suddenly sprints to the bathroom.

Bubba Sawyer:

🎶'Sugar pie, honey bunch You know that I love you'🎶

Oh my gosh, the moment you expression changes from one of fear and disgust, to wide eyed adoration and you start fawning over him?? He has no idea what to d o. Oh, the poor baby XDD

Like, he's just hugging his chainsaw to him as you get up close and touch his shoulders and fix his tie and follow him around and he doesn't r e a l l y mind, cuz its not like you're hurting him, but he is just confused. He's searching for Drayton. Like he'll have any answers, pft.

(Mayor) Buckman:

🎶'I can't help myself I love you and nobody else'🎶

-I'm sorry, what now? Beg your pardon, there?

As soon as he recognises that sparkly, attentive look on your eyes he's slightly baffled. I mean, he's used to being loved - his town a d o r e their mayor, - so he isn't quite as lost as Bubba is or even Billy, but- he just had your friends killed? Sweetheart are you in your right mind?

I can see him sorta, awkwardly starting to treat your a little better then your friends. What?? He'd feel just awful being terrible to someone who 'loves', him! I mean you'll still die probably, but you can stand by him until its time. Self absorbed prick

Carrie White:

🎶'In and out my life You come and you go Leaving just your picture behind And I kissed it a thousand times'🎶

(*^^*) I'm sorry (*^^*) What? (*^^*)

Oh my gosh she's a mess. What do you mean by calling her Sugar Pie? Honey bunch? Sweetheart? Cutie!?!?

She's going to run away my guy, she's going to flee. She is not used to this kind of attention (Or any at all, for that matter) and you've flustered her. She doesn't believe you're just making fun of her though (Since you're just so... adoring. She intense. So in love- this cant possibly be an act) though at least, so there's that.

Just calm. down. bitch. You're going to scare her.

Chucky / Charles Lee Ray:

🎶'When you snap your finger or wink your eye I come a-running to you I'm tied to your apron strings And there's nothing that I can do'🎶

Depends- as a human or a Good Guy?

As a human he might be a bit more reserved about the whole thing and a whole lot more confused like... is this a joke? That's a gun in my pocket, not somethin' else if that's what you're thinkin'. You gettin' off on this? What? What's the deal, here?

As a doll though it TOTALLY goes to his head. You just took this bastards ego man and shot it up with some steroids. Like yes- they even want me when I'm plastic. That's fuckin' right.

I would say, 'No way hosay, he's fleeing- he's got a hot ass wife already!! But that has never really stopped our asshole gremlin man so...

Chop Top Sawyer:

🎶'I can't help myself No, I can't help myself'🎶

'DRAYYYTONNNN, C'MERE AND MEET MAH HONEY PIE. I'M GETTIN ME HITCHED!'

*Drayton from somewhere else in the part* 'YOU'RE WHAT?!'

Yep. No getting outta this now. You're getting married to him. Enjoy.

Drayton Sawyer:

🎶''Cause sugar pie, honey bunch I'm weaker than a man should be I can't help myself'🎶

*Cough* me *cough*

I mean... *awkward cough cough's*... what?

Oh boy, Drayton is awkward. And PINK. Why're you looking at him like that? Why are you running your fingers through his hair? Why're

Like Bog in Strange Magic I think Drayton would set you aside from the rest of the victims for a while, until whatever's gotten into you has worn off at least. And begrudgingly take care of you- and try to tell you that your feelings are just whatever poison's jacked you up- and to please calm down- you wont want this old boy when your senses are back-

Gosh, he's too cute. I love him a lot.

Freddy Krueger:

🎶'I'm a fool in love, you see Wanna tell you I don't love you Tell you that we're through And I've tried Every time I see your face I get all choked up inside'🎶

Hmmmmm~ What'd you just call him?~

You're playing fire here babes-

And by that I mean he's going to push you until he finds the limit to this potion- for fun. Will you still 'love' him if he leads you off a cliff?~ If he carves his name into your back? If he forces this disgusting sludge down your throat? Will you do aaaanything for him?~ How about killing your friend over there?

Goodluck.

Jennifer Check:

🎶'When I call your name Girl, it starts a flame'🎶

Yeah, I mean of course, who doesn't, bye-

This is not shocking to her XD She's hot and amazing, she knows, alright? Shoo.

Depends- are you a dude? Cis or trans- a dudes a dude. And if you are a dude, she is going to take this admiration and use it to her advantage.

If you are not a guy, though, you'll probably get off easy, with an eyeroll as she stalks off. Maybe even a smirk.

(Sheriff) Hoyt:

🎶'Burning in my heart, tearing it all apart No matter how I try, my love I cannot hide'🎶

... Is this a trick? You fucker-

Paranoid military man kills you immediately because he thinks this is a ploy to survive and hurt his family.

Jason Voorhees:

🎶'Sugar pie, honey bunch You know that I'm waiting for you (waiting for you)'🎶

Mmmmmm... 😐 this is new territory... he really doesn't know what to do, here...

Uhh... he may lower his weapon, and tilt his head; Silently asking his mother what to do in this situation as he assesses you- you and your own tilted head, corner of your mouth tilted up as you look up (UP UP UP- ) at the 'love of your life'.

Tea? Do you want some (cold lake water and floor leaf) tea?

Michael Myers:

🎶'I can't help myself I love you and nobody else'🎶

Wh... what?

Not gonna lie- you threw him off, for sure when you got down on your knees and just gazed up at him. Even with blood all over him, even holding a shar knife, even with the corpse of your friend a few feet away.

But mostly his feelings are please go away you're freaking me the fuck out.

*The sound of your neck snapping*

Patrick Bateman:

🎶'Sugar pie, honey bunch I'd do anything you ask me to'🎶

How sad for you.

He really doesn't care, man. Just tries to go on with his life, even with you following him around everywhere and trying to get his attention, and being there at his every beck and call- he does enjoy having coffee whenever he wants it, though.

Pennywise (OG):

🎶'I can't help myself I want you and nobody else'🎶

Oh this is HILARIOUS.

Penny figures it out immediately and has a good laugh, as you giggle softly, awkwardly along with him (Which makes him laugh harder-). Ohhhh, you made his century.

You're gonna taste delicious, when he's done with you.

Stu Macher:

🎶'Sugar pie, honey bunch You know that I love you'🎶

Ahhhhh... say what now?

Billy cackles like an evil ferret behind him as you wrap your arms around Stu (The boy himself a slave to his hornier impulses but struggling as Billy's right there and also this is kinda rapey-). Good. he gets a taste of his own medicine now. He looks mortified. GOOD.

Thomas Hewitt:

🎶'I can't help myself No, I can't help myself'🎶

Thomas is a mix of Michael and Bubba- he's thinking but why, but also what do i do what do i do what do i do-

Like one one side, he's annoyed. Because you're geting in his way and he needs to help out his mamma and do what Hoyt tells him to, in order to keep his family safe.

But on the other- he's kind of enjoying this kind of attention.

God, someone just take the decision out of his hands.

[lovelylogans]

a good regular quarrel

“there are some people who like nothing better than a good, regular quarrel.” ― jude morgan, indiscretion

warnings: misunderstandings, bickering, food mentions, mention of jail, mostly just domestic fluff

pairing: virgil/logan

word count: 1,250

notes: this is for day 1 of @analogicalweek! the prompt of the day is “debate/anniversary” and i have decided to write about both! please enjoy!

⁂

The pair of them tend to be particularly slow to wake. 

Virgil, because even after repeated sit-down presentations will not alter his sleeping patterns or consistently make attempts to alleviate certain habits that have been proven to disrupt the circadian rhythm; Logan, because he is naturally inclined toward deep sleeping. He’s in the middle of mapping out his precise REM cycle as best he can, actually, to see if it varies from his control subjects (Roman and Patton.)

Which is why it is such a surprise when he awakens to someone gently shaking his shoulder and a cold, empty bed, but that is quickly remedied by a blurry Virgil leaning into his line of sight.

“Morning, L.”

Logan blinks a couple times to clear his eyes of sleep, but he hardly needs to do that in order to see a tray in Virgil’s hands, to smell the scent of loganberry and blueberry-cranberry Crofter’s jam and sourdough toast, fluffy scrambled eggs prepared just as Logan likes them, with cheddar cheese mixed in, a side of turkey bacon and various chopped fruits, and coffee, steaming away in his favorite mug, the big one with the hand-painted constellations on it.

“Good morning,” Logan responds, to be polite, then, “This is very nice, Virgil, thank you.”

He picks up his glasses and slides them on, in enough time to see Virgil smile at him in a way that he only does in private, because he looks, in Virgil’s own words, soppy. 

It is a smile-just-for-Logan. Though Virgil’s face has many iterations, and Logan thinks all of them handsome, Logan must admit a particular fondness for this specific version.

Virgil’s next words bring his brain to a halt.

“’Course. Happy anniversary.”

Logan opens his mouth, closes it. Opens it again. Takes a long sip of coffee.

He is unsure how to broach this subject. Virgil has done a very nice thing. Perhaps he should keep quiet, but he’s already shaking that off; Virgil would likely be expecting reciprocity, or at least participation in plans for such an important day. He sets down his mug.

“Virgil,” he says, in as gentle a tone he can, because they have instituted rules about not bickering before they have both sufficiently woken up enough to carry out logical argumentation. “It’s not our anniversary.”

Virgil’s eyebrows pull together. “Yes it is.”

“No, it isn’t,” Logan says. “Our anniversary is in three days. I made reservations for Jungsik that evening,” Virgil’s favorite restaurant, because the gamjatang and bibimbap is the closest food he has ever tried in America that stacks up to his Halmeoni’s. Not more delicious than hers, of course, but as close as they can get without flying to Namyangju.

“Oh hell yeah,” Virgil says instinctively, before he shakes himself and says, “Uh, look, not that that isn’t nice, because it is and I appreciate it, but it’s totally our anniversary today, so. I actually made reservations at Don Floro tonight.”

Which is Logan’s favorite restaurant, because he has a particular fondness for Ecuadorian food after studying at the Galapagos for his master’s degree.

“How lovely,” Logan says. “Excepting the part where our anniversary is in three days.”

“Drink your coffee, babe, you’re misremembering the date,” Virgil says dryly, plucking up a piece of sourdough toast already spread with jam and crunching into it, ignoring Logan’s squawk of indignation.

“It is the fourth, is it not?”

“It is.”

“Our anniversary is on the seventh,” Logan says peevishly, taking his own piece of toast and attempting to crunch it with the same flair as Virgil does. He is unaware as to how, exactly, Virgil managed to make eating toast sound sarcastic.

“Nosnot,” Virgil mumbles around a mouthful of toasted bread and jelly.

Logan, unwilling to chew with his mouth open because he is not a barbarian, instead gives Virgil a sharp look meant to impart yes, it absolutely is, and he takes another sip of coffee.

Virgil swallows, reaches for his own mug of coffee, and then pulls out his phone, scrolling for something, before he presents it to Logan.

“There,” he says, as Logan takes the phone in hand. “We kissed for the first time two years ago. It’s our anniversary.”

Logan examines the screen. It is from the memory feature of Virgil’s photo album and it is clearly a photograph of himself, Patton, Roman, Virgil, and Janus at the party where they shared their first kiss.

He stares for a few moments, at photograph Virgil’s smirk and bright eyes. His hair was shorter then. He says aloud, “Have we unknowingly been using different metrics to measure our anniversary for two years?”

“Well, I guess we didn’t get to celebrate last year on the day of,” Virgil says thoughtfully. “We got dinner before you left for that conference, remember?”

Logan does. It had been a very nice night.

“Wait, what’s your metric, then?” Virgil says.

“The day I asked you to be my boyfriend,” Logan says. “Which was extended on your side because—”

Virgil groans. “It’s not my fault I had to drive across two state lines to bail Remus out of jail.”

“You absolutely volunteered to bail Remus out of jail because you were panicking about the sudden change in our relationship dynamic,” Logan accuses. “Roman would have gone if you hadn’t—”

“I owed Roman a favor!” Virgil protests. “It’s not my fault he called it in then!”

“You couldn’t have called—” Logan begins, before he holds up a hand, forestalling a re-adventure back into a familiar dispute before they settle the one at hand. At this rate, frankly, they will be sitting on a porch in rocking chairs, gray-haired, hoarsely shouting at each other about Remus’ untimely sojourn into a jail cell because retirement has driven them both into boredom.

“Look. In my opinion, the anniversary should be to celebrate when we became official.”

“And in my opinion, it should be when we first had a romantic interaction,” Virgil says.

Logan huffs and turns to his breakfast. Virgil digs into his own and there is a lull in their conversation as they both consume their meals. Virgil is an incredible chef—the bacon is precisely crispy, the eggs are fluffy and light, the toast the perfect shade of brown. 

And breakfast in bed is a very sweet gesture.

“...anniversaries are not particularly strongly tied to a particular event,” Logan says eventually, when he has cleared his plate.

Virgil hums.

“I suppose there is no harm in celebrating the anniversary of our first kiss and our boyfriendship,” Logan says, turning to face him full on.

Virgil grins. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

Virgil tilts his head, considering it.

“I suppose a ceasefire is a pretty good anniversary present,” he says, grinning at Logan in a way that Logan knows he is teasing.

Which is why Logan feels comfortable picking up one of their throw pillows and weakly whacking him on the arm, and why he feels doubly comfortable leaning in to kiss him, Virgil tasting sweetly of cranberry and blueberry and sugar, undercut by coffee.

“Love you,” Virgil sighs against Logan’s mouth.

“I love you, too,” Logan murmurs, and leans to catch Virgil’s mouth with his own again.

Virgil rolls so that he is sitting astride Logan’s lap.

“Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary.”

They resume kissing, more heatedly than before.

Logan is three minutes late to work that morning, and makes his apologies that are waved off. He gets to his lab table and feels quite comfortable resuming blushing and smiling to himself.

[nazyalenskyism]

Let’s Get Married 1

Summary: A Zoyalai modern AU with fake dating in latter parts.

Ao3: Let’s Get Married

Excerpt: He raised a brow, easing back in his chair, “can I help you?”

“What’s this?” Genya exclaimed without any preamble, grabbing a paper off the top of the stack in David’s hands and slapping it onto his desk.

“Paper, I assume, darling Genya.”

“I mean what’s on the paper,” she snapped, “it says you’re married.”

“That sounds great. See you at noon tomorrow. Yes, Madraya I know how to get to the Palm Court. Yes, I promise I won’t be late. Okay, I’ll see you soon.” Nikolai gently placed the receiver into the cradle before dropping his head into his hands. He was lucky that it was a Friday evening, the firm was empty which meant no one was around to witness this. He was nestled away in his favourite hidden corner in the law library which was the perfect place to get his work done, though he wondered how productive he would be now that he had to create a game plan for the following day. He was practiced in making sure his mother didn’t spill any secrets which was often the result of wanting to spite his father and one too many drinks, but no matter how good he thought he was his mother always managed to surprise him. And then there was the matter of his brother and father. He wanted nothing more than for them to burn with their continual mistakes, but he couldn’t. Whether it was out of some strange sense of loyalty to people who only made his life more difficult or to protect his mother who always stood silent at their sides when they tormented him, he didn’t know.

The only thing he did know was that he was about 15 hours away from another lunch with his mother and her gossiping group of friends where his father would decide not to show up at the last minute because Vasily wanted to go golfing in the Hamptons where they would undoubtedly spend the rest of the weekend philandering. Another weekend where his mother pretended she didn’t know what was happening, deciding to drop as much money as she could manage, just to irritate her husband. Then it would be Monday again, where Nikolai was left to pick up the pieces from the damage that his family caused, wishing that he could close his eyes and disappear off the face of the Earth for just a second if it meant he could be left without responsibility over people who didn’t care about him.

“What are you doing?” From between the shelves stepped out another lawyer, not just any other lawyer, it was Zoya. Zoya Nazyalensky was a talented lawyer who had joined the firm a few years after he had, right out of law school. She was skilled, hardworking, and an expert in making the most egotistical men shrink by simply raising her brow. They had worked a few cases together over their time at the firm, but more often than not, they had their separate cases that they chose to work on together. Most days they could be found in each others’ offices, working silently for hours with only occasional requests for advice or lunch orders. Despite all the time they spent working together, Nikolai, who considered himself something of an expert when it came to others’ feelings, had no idea if Zoya actually liked him or if she simply put up with him because he was the least terrible person at work. He always welcomed her company though.

“What are you doing here so late?”

She raised a brow before crossing the space and sinking into the couch cushions next to him. “I could ask you the same thing. In fact, I just did.”

“I’m putting some things together before the weekend.”

“Was your phone call that bad?”

Nikolai wanted to wince, “you heard that?”

“You were on speaker.”

“Saints, as if I needed that broadcast to the entire firm.”

“Oh, there’s no one here. You and I are the only ones left,” she said as she pulled off her high heels and curled her legs onto the couch.

“You haven’t answered my question, why are you still here?”

“You first.”

He sighed, she’d already heard the entirety of his conversation with his mother, it’s not like he could ruin her image of him further. “The sooner I go home, the sooner the reality of tomorrow will hit me.”

“Is getting tea with your mother really that bad?” she asked almost hesitantly.

Nikolai threw his head back, “I love my mother, but these luncheons usually involve my father ditching at the last minute to go and break his wedding vows, while my mother pretends she doesn’t know what’s happening

“And you have to go?”

“Someone has to make sure she gets home in one piece, and I trust her friends as far as they can throw me.”

“Isn’t the saying that you trust them as far as you can throw them?”

“I excel at everything I do, naturally but they can’t say the same.”

“Ah, I see.”

They sat in silence for a moment before she spoke again, her tone hushed as if speaking any louder would shatter the calm. “Is that why you don’t work for your father?”

Nikolai exhaled, “that’s a part of it.” His father was C.E.O of Ravkan Industries, and unlike his brother, Nikolai hadn’t joined the family business right out of highschool. Make no mistake, he wanted to be a part of the company, he knew he needed to be a part of it to spare the world of further misguided leadership from his family. It pained him, but they were the worst thing to happen to the company, and he often feared that he was the only person who could stop the trainwreck that was his family from derailing.

She nodded, “I know a thing or two about bad families.” Her legs had been drawn up to her chest, and she rested her head against her knees, eyes trained on him, “I can’t speak about anyone else, but your brother is definitely a jackass.”

“You’re right, I’m sure everyone who’s ever met him agrees. Speaking of which, when did you?”

“I came to your office a few weeks ago looking for you. He was waiting for you, gave me a sleazy once-over and asked me out. He got offended when I said no, and I told him that I didn’t date men who look like the Walmart versions of their younger brothers.”

Nikolai shook his head in amusement, “I’m surprised I haven’t heard him complaining about that. You must have really wounded his ego.”

“What,” Zoya said, fixing him with the withering glare she dished out when someone was being incompetent, “like it’s hard?”

“Ooh,” Nikolai groaned, rubbing a hand over his chest, “glad I’ve never been on the receiving end of one of those.”

She gave him a small smile, picking at a loose thread at her sleeve, “how do you usually spend your Saturdays when you’re not cleaning up their messes?”

“Go on a run, get pastries and coffee from the bakery across the street, read a book with my cat, catch up on some shows…”

“That sounds…. surprisingly pleasant.”

“ What did you think I got up to?”

“I don’t know… peach picking or something?”

“Aren’t you allergic to peaches?”

Zoya looked startled for a second, “yeah, how did you know that?”

“That time that we helped Genya with her groceries because she broke her leg? You weren’t paying attention and grabbed them, 10 minutes later you got hives.”

The look she gave him was intense and assessing, had he said something wrong? As much as he liked to think he knew how everyone operated, Zoya Nazyalensky was a bit of an enigma to him still. “What about you? What are you doing tomorrow?” he said in an attempt to maintain the conversation.

“I’ll go on a run with my dog, get breakfast, do some work, get some flowers and do my laundry. The usual.”

“Have you ever had lunch at the Palm Court?”

“No, but my aunt took me to the champagne bar when I graduated,” her smile was small, “it was the nicest night I’ve ever had.”

“I can’t promise that tomorrow will be anything less than a disaster, but would you like to accompany me to lunch?”

Zoya fiddled with the chain around her neck, fingers running over the seams of the locket, as if she was contemplating opening it. “Would it be proper?”

“You said it yourself, you have nothing else to do tomorrow morning, you’ll get a ridiculously expensive and delicious lunch for free.”

“But wouldn’t I be intruding?”

“My father’s going to cancel at the last minute, remember?”

“And what if he doesn’t?”

“He will. He always does, and he is nothing if not a creature of habit.” His phone rang at that exact moment, “like clockwork,” he murmured. “Hello.”

“Tell your mother that I can’t make lunch tomorrow, Vasya and I are going golfing.” The line cut before Nikolai could reply, not that he’d been planning on it.

“So, Nazyalensky, are we on for afternoon tea then?”

She sighed, “fine. But it better be as tasty as you’re saying it is.”

“It’s absolutely heavenly. The Dom Pérignon really brings out the subtle undertones in the Pistachio Dacquoise Cake. And the Devonshire cream is absolutely to die for.”

“I didn’t understand half of that.”

“Don’t worry, after the first time, you’ll be begging that we go back.”

She raised a brow, “is that a challenge, Lantsov?”

He grinned, “when is it not?”

“This is a pity lunch, I’m not going because I actually care about you.”

Nikolai nodded understandingly, “of course, of course. This is strictly a pity invite too, since this brunch will definitely be more entertaining than a Saturday spent at home.”

“Great. So we’re on the same page then,” her smile was sharp and Nikolai felt his blood rush at the sight. Maybe tomorrow would be bearable.

***

“Anything I need to know before we go in?” Zoya crossed her arms over her chest, staring up at the façade of the infamous hotel the following morning, suppressing the urge to run home. Was she nervous? For what? To meet Nikolai’s mother? No, that couldn’t be it. She was nervous to lose her bet with him, that was it. He had called her early this morning to make sure that the terms of the bet were solidified, if she fell in love with any of the food, she had to accompany him to any future lunches, whenever he asked. If she won, he had to accompany her to any errands she wanted. She had thought about making him assemble all of her IKEA furniture for the foreseeable future on the way here and had nearly bumped into him while she daydreamed about him carrying her groceries every week.

“If a question doesn’t feel like a trap, then it is one. If it feels like it’s a trap, then it’s definitely a trap. If it feels like someone is fishing for a response, then that’s a trap.”

“So, everything is a trap?”

“Exactly!”

“And you do this every month?”

“More like every two weeks.”

“Saints,” she swore, “and you don’t get sick of the food or company?”

“Well, they do let a little bit too much slide about their husbands’ schedules, most of them are on the board of my father’s company, and if I can get on their good sides they might vote for me over Vasily to take over one day.”

“You’re always playing the long game, aren’t you?”

Nikolai raised a brow, “and you’re not? We both know your ‘favourite hangout spots’ are coincidentally the same places where you can poach clients from Fjerdan Holdings.”

“Wait,” Zoya frowned, ignoring him completely. “If your father and Vasily are both skipping, who else did you invite? I'm taking your father’s place and what about Vasily’s?”

“I’m honoured you think I’d be invited in the first place.”

“You’re not invited?”

“Only when Vasily cancels, which is every time.”

“They really don’t invite you to family lunches?”

“I’m something of a problem child to them.”

“Nikolai,” she said and he could feel her gaze on him, “are you sure about this?”

“Yes, Zoya. I’m sure.”

“Let’s get moving then, we’re about to be late.”

“Ruthless as always,” Nikolai sighed, pushing open the door.

“Punctual, as always,” Zoya retorted, following him through the lobby, “you should take a lesson or two from me on showing up on time.”

“Never heard of fashionably late, Nazyalensky?”

“That’s just an excuse people with no dress sense use to justify their inability to choose a functional outfit.”

“Ruthless.”

“Honest.”

***

“Kolya!”A blonde woman dressed in beige exclaimed, beckoning him over before pulling him down into a hug . Zoya looked down at her pale blue dress, was she too colourful for brunch? But no, Nikolai’s dress shirt was the same colour as her dress, surely that meant that it was okay. She’d forgotten the ultra-rich nature of Nikolai’s family and the way that high society acted. Sure she made good money at work, but this world, the world of her clients, was something else. She’d grown up eating lunchables when she’d lived with her parents, while she suspected that he had never eaten anything that wasn’t prepared by a gourmet chef before he went to university.

“Madraya, this is my friend, Zoya,” he said, pulling away, “she’s the one I told you would be joining us this morning.”

“Thank you for having me,” she smiled, trying to put on her most charming persona, The Nikolai, as she liked to call it.

Nikolai’s mother shook her hand enthusiastically, “Zoya, this is Svetlana, Kolya’s auntie. Please! Sit, sit.” The other woman assessed her slowly from head to toe and Zoya shot her a cool glance, a challenge, to which Svetlana turned away from. Off to a great start.

Zoya reached to pull out her chair, faltering when she felt someone else’s on top of hers. “Your jacket,” Nikolai whispered, “I can take it.”

She stared at him. What? She went rigid as Nikolai helped her out of her coat, the warmth of his fingers brushing against her skin, making her thoughts freeze too.

“You alright, Nazyalensky?” he murmured in her ear as he pulled her chair out for her. “You should stop staring, it’s rude.”

She rolled her eyes at him, whatever spell had fallen over her was broken now, “thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he winked in return, but she could see the surprise on his face. Did he really think she was so ruthless that she had no manners?

“So Kolya, tell us about how you and Zoya met!”

***

Lunch was rather mild, and nowhere near as horrific as Nikolai has mentioned. In fact, it was pleasant, certainly much more enjoyable than any meal she’d had with her own mother. Nikolai’s mother cared for him in her own vapid way, and once Nikolai had reiterated that Zoya was not his girlfriend, Svetlana had thawed considerably, both of the women asking her about her clothes, work, and life. The lies came easily, they always did when it came to her family. She wasn’t embarrassed by her past but she saw no value in mentioning the people who had conceived her but had done nothing more than that. Zoya was also not in the mood to be pitted by these women, and she spun them a web of what they wanted to hear. A girl from a rich family who grew up doing all of the things they had.

She told them details from trips she had always dreamt of taking with her aunt but that they’d never been able to afford, easily replying to their inquiries of, “oh, I love Paris! When you went, did you eat at the cafe 3 blocks east of the Louvre? With the 100 year old bakery? It’s a must!” with an exact order of their most deep-menu items. Zoya smiled as they tittered on about the delicacies, as if an evening dining there didn’t cost more than what a month’s worth of groceries had cost as a child. To them her weekends were spent at tennis practice at the local country club instead of split between doing homework, working at her aunt's cafe and in the mail room at the law firm across the street to earn a little money. She didn’t say this explicitly of course, but she didn’t deny it either when they acted like she shared their experiences.

She’d never spoken to Nikolai about her past, nothing beyond the fact that she was raised by her aunt and that she had a younger cousin. He’d never asked, not out of a lack of interest in her, she knew that— but out of understanding that she didn’t particularly care to share that information. In the world in which she now found herself, anyone that deviated from the norm was looked down upon and she refused to be a source of entertainment for them.

The conversation quickly turned away from her however, with a few carefully timed lines from Nikolai. He brought up childhood memories of his own that made everyone laugh, recounting his numerous hijinks through the years. He told stories about the more interesting cases he and Zoya had worked on recently, his flow pausing naturally to let her throw in her own banter as well. She learned of the multiple times Nikolai had nearly burnt their beach house down, how he once “accidentally” lured a hoard of sheep to chase his brother when they were visiting Scotland, and how he was the youngest in his highschool graduating class, finishing at 15 before going to university, and then sailing around the world for a year.

As enjoyable as seeing Nikolai’s nose scrunch when his mother recounted a particularly adorable story was, by the time the desserts rolled around, Zoya felt fatigued. How did Nikolai do this all the time? When he wasn’t charming his family he was charming clients, coworkers, whoever he needed to. She had enjoyed the afternoon a lot more than she had anticipated, especially the food which was heavenly, like he’d said. But in the end she was adamant not to admit defeat to Nikolai even if it meant more meals like this. She would rather stab herself with the salad fork than admit he was right— or was that the dessert fork? Why were there so many forks? She was granted a bit of a reprieve when the ladies saw another group of their friends and decided to go chat with them at their table. Then it was just her and Nikolai, who had gone unusually quiet and was staring at her empty plate quite critically. “What’s wrong?”

***

Nikolai had been right, inviting Zoya to lunch had been a great idea, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d genuinely enjoyed one of these lunches. She had been brilliant, with the way that she handled all of their questions and discussed topics that interested them, the way that she’d chimed in at the perfect moments in his stories to add a little detail that made the anecdote even better. Everything had gone better than he could’ve imagined, except for the fact that it looked like he might be losing their bet, and after today, he didn’t think he would hate these lunches if Zoya were attending them with him.

Af first he’d been genuinely worried that she wasn’t enjoying herself since her reaction to the food had been muted, but the longer he watched her the more he was able to figure out exactly what was going on. He knew she wasn’t touching the desert tower because she knew that it would be her downfall. Most of the sweets were exactly of her taste and she was desperate not to lose to him. What had she intended on making him do if he lost that she was fighting so hard to win?

“Try it,” Nikolai mumbled, pointing at the tea tower, “it’s delicious.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, “you’ve said that about everything so far.”

“I’m serious, Nazyalensky. You’re going to love this.”

“I’m going to love it, or you’re convinced I should love it so that you win?”

Nikolai pulled a face, “why can’t it be both? Come on, it’s a dark chocolate cherry custard, that’s pretty much all of your favourite foods.”

Zoya peered at the dessert as if she was holding herself back, “it does look slightly edible…”

Saints, she would do anything to beat him, wouldn’t she? Nikolai smothered his grin, holding out a spoonful of the custard to her, “you know you want to try it.”

She let out an exasperated breath, taking the bite. Her eyelashes fluttered as she tasted it and she turned to him, scowling, “damnit, that’s so good.”

“I won’t say I told you so, Zo,” he laughed, as she smacked his shoulder with one hand, the other wielding a spoon that was digging into the custard on his plate. She hated that nickname.

“Well, Nik, or should I say Nikky? Or Niko? Or Nikola? Or--”

“Ah, that’s enough, dear,” Nikolai groaned, he definitely had worse nicknames.

“Whatever you say, Kolya.”

“Who would’ve guessed that brunch Zoya was a gloater?” His tone was teasing as he leaned in, brushing the bottom of her lip with his thumb to get rid of a chocolate smudge. “I certainly figured you were the modest type,” he trailed off, realizing what he’d done.

“Me and gloat don’t belong in the same sentence,” Zoya said, but her voice was low and her eyes were trained on his fingers. Nikolai repressed the urge to sit on his hands or flee from the table, but she said nothing and neither did he.

“Kolya, sweetheart, be a dear and wait for your father’s card.” His mother was back. Nikolai shot out of his seat, walking over to her. “We’ll be down the street at Svetlana’s daughter’s boutique. Zoya, hon, are you coming with us?”

“Oh, I’ll just wait with Nikolai,” Zoya smiled.

“Of course, dear.” His mother then pulled him aside, “you should bring your girlfriend around more often. It’s been so long since you’ve brought someone home.”

Nikolai looked at her, bewildered, “girlfriend? Zoya’s not my girlfriend. We’re just friends. Not even friends, coworkers is probably a better descriptor for our fully platonic relationship.” Was he rambling? He felt like he was rambling.

Instead of replying his mother simply patted his cheek with an infuriatingly knowing look before she followed her friends out of the dining room. Nikolai shook his head out, walking back to Zoya as they waited.

“ ‘Not even friends?’I have to admit, that’s probably the best thing I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth,” Zoya said, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“I was just taken aback,” Nikolai protested, “of course we’re friends, okay,” he said, raising his hands in surrender at her pointed glare, “I consider us friends at least, I don’t invite strangers to the brunch from hell.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” she scoffed, flicking a piece of lint from his lapel absently. “The food was good, and they were nice enough.”

“Oh, they’re not nice at all,” he laughed, turning to take the card from the approaching waiter, “you just knew how to handle them.”

“I suppose I’ve spent enough time with clients like them to know how to act,” she frowned, “I didn’t really have to think about it.”

“That makes you a perfect fit in their social circle,” he winked, holding the door open for her, “you’re clever enough to outsmart them all, they can’t get anything from you unless you want them to have it.”

“I thought being clever was your brand?”

“I’m okay with having a worthy companion in that bracket.” Nikolai jested, surprised when she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow as they began their way down the street. She probably just needed to keep her balance, he couldn’t imagine navigating the cobblestone path in the high heels she was wearing. He couldn’t recall her ever wearing anything but heels, now that he thought about it. Perhaps she would require further assistance walking in the future, he didn’t think he would mind that.

“But really,” she said, tilting her head up to look at him, “you’ve never thought about us?”

Nikolai turned away for a second, unsure of what exactly to say, and when he turned back to her, she was already looking away. “I can’t say I have. To be fair, I didn’t think you liked me until yesterday, or that you considered us friends until today.”

“Of course we’re friends,” she scowled, punching his bicep with her free hand, “we’ve been friends for years, you dolt. You think I waste my free time on people I can’t be bothered to tolerate?”

“Oh.”

Zoya rolled her eyes, “yes, oh. I always knew I was smarter than you but this is pathetic on your part, Lantsov. What did you think when I gave you that scarf for Christmas?”

“I thought you were just being nice?”

She groaned, “take that back. I’ve never been nice a day in my life.”

They walked in silence for a few minutes before she spoke, “you really didn’t think, ‘hey, we do our work together at the office, we have the same friends, and I’m the only person in the office that Zoya hasn’t threatened to throw out the 29th floor window? so maybe that means something?’”

“You threatened to throw me out the second floor window 3 days into working at the firm.”

“Exactly!” she nodded, “you would probably survive that fall. That was essentially me telling you I didn’t hate you that much.”

“You work in mysterious ways, Nazyalensky.”

“Hold on,” Zoya put out a hand to stop him, “your collar is up.” She stepped towards him, fingers brushing his neck as she folded the fabric, her gaze intent upon him.

“If it weren’t for my newfound knowledge that you consider us friends, I would think you were considering strangling me.” Nikolai laughed, feeling her pause in her movements.

“That can certainly be arranged,” she teased, smoothing out the lapels of his coat, her hands resting on his chest for a second. Her eyes met his and she looked away quickly towards the boutique, freezing when she saw the occupants staring out the window at them. “Why are they looking at us like that?” Zoya murmured.

“I think that Svetlana thought she could get me to marry her daughter.”

“Aren’t you all about love, is it really that bad of an idea? She owns a boutique, that’s pretty cool.” She stepped back, shoving her hands into her own coat pockets, and Nikolai instantly regretted opening his mouth.

“I’m not really her type.”

“I thought you were ‘everyone’s type?’”

“Am I?” Zoya turned away from his gaze, and he thought he saw her face flush. “She dated Tamar a few years back, and then she was with my sister for a few months, but I doubt her mother knows if she’s dating anyone right now.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You have a sister?”

“That’s a story for another time,” Nikolai grinned. “It may cost you another lunch date.”

“If they have food as good as today’s, every Saturday is yours.”

Nikolai smiled as Zoya waltzed into the boutique, an elegant but disruptive storm in his life. She hadn’t flinched when he’d called it a date, hadn’t hesitated when he’d asked her to accompany him again, hadn’t protested at the fact that he’d won the bet. Despite all the good that had come out of the day, he felt something gnawing at his chest, ‘what, you’ve never thought about us?” and he doubted it would ever leave his head now. ‘Whatever’ Nikolai thought, trailing after her. It wasn’t like even if he wanted to, they would ever be together. There was no use in worrying over something that would never happen.

[kiruuuuu]

Smoke/Mute in which ten cups of coffee change Mute’s life. (Rating T, slice of life/fluff/budding romance, ~5.8k words) - written for none other than @nutbrain​ for being a remarkable human being and an even better friend 💖 Please enjoy!

.

Mark eyes the shopfront before him with suspicion. His safe haven apparently gone, a flashier version has taken its place some time during the semester break, keeping nothing but the location and the proffered goods. Instead of the old-fashioned, thick-cushioned chairs and dim lighting, the new café shines with an open-floor concept, simple wooden furniture and an overall dark look with specks of gold to brighten it up. Leo Coffee, reads the sign next to a golden logo displaying a roaring lion. What big cats have to do with coffee isn’t obvious to Mark, but he overcomes his initial distaste and steps inside nonetheless.

As visible from outside, the place is deserted. The previous coffee shop was frequented by businesspeople and students alike, located halfway between the campus and Mark’s dorm – on rainy days, people often took public transport and bought their coffee elsewhere, but even on those occasions, it’s never been as empty as this.

Not that Mark is complaining. If the coffee is good, he’ll continue frequenting the new shop, and being able to work in peace would be an added bonus. He is quite fond of Julien and Timur, but even so, they’re not the… easiest to live with. To say the least. A quiet place would be very welcome.

He sets his books down on the table furthest away from the counter, slings his bag over the back of a chair and approaches the empty void where an employee should be standing. This is when he notices another curiosity: there’s no menu board. There isn’t even a menu card by the counter or anywhere, really, only a glass case with a handful of baked goods inside, most of which look like a child made them. So far, the only redeeming quality is the delicious dark smell of roasted coffee beans lingering in the air.

After another minute, still nobody has appeared, so Mark checks his phone for reviews. If the place has less than four stars – alright, three, he’s giving them the benefit of the doubt purely because of their convenient location and quietness –, then he’s out of here. He can’t even remember the last time he had to wait this long to -

“Are you going to order or what?”

Nearly dropping his phone in the process, Mark jumps at the sudden gruff voice and looks up to find himself face to face with a grizzled man. The black apron is all that betrays him as an employee as the unimpressed glare and casual attire do nothing in his favour. “Uh”, he replies eloquently and vows that he’ll never set foot in this place again if this is how he’s going to get treated.

The old man’s expression melts into friendliness. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Welcome to Café Leo – it’s your first time here, so have a loyalty card, lad.”

Mark accepts the piece of paper without thinking, still thrown off by the bloke’s sudden appearance (how does he move completely silent like that), and at least has the presence of mind to inspect it. Its contents are so absurd that he forgets to ask how the man opposite him knew he hadn’t been to the shop yet. “‘After 10 coffee purchases, you’re eligible for a free wish’”, he mumbles, reading the text printed white on black aloud. “‘This offer is not transferable.’ What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that only you can redeem your reward, not anyone else. Would you like some coffee?”

He blinks at the bearded man, trying to ascertain whether he’s being serious, and is met with an almost bored stare. Weighing his options, the scales are only slightly tipped in favour of staying, but only because he knows Julien has a ‘visitor’ over today and there’s no other place he can study – the library is overrun by frantic procrastinators who left finishing their coursework assigned over the break to the absolute last minute, and Manu is coming back tomorrow. Apart from her and his roommates, there’s no one with whom he’s comfortable enough to invite himself over.

Especially not him. God knows why Mark even considered him for a brief second.

Looks like he’ll have to deal with this awkwardness if he wants to get any work done whatsoever. “Alright then. What do you sell?”

“Coffee”, comes the curt answer.

Mark rubs his eyes in exhaustion. He’s beginning to understand why there’s no other customers here. “Sure. Yes. A coffee, then.”

“That’ll be…” The employee trails off while frowning down at his wristwatch. “…um, about £7.92.”

“For one coffee?”

“It’s free refills, son.”

Oh, so maybe this is an American chain. That would explain quite a bit. Mark considers whether he’s staying long enough to get the most out of his money, but seeing as the bloke doesn’t seem the chattiest type and he’s unlikely to get interrupted, he decides it’s worth it. Still, there’s something he simply can’t let go. “… what do you mean, ‘about’ £7.92?”

“Are you paying cash or card?”

Alright then.

The next ultimatum: if the coffee turns out dogshite, he’s never coming back. He’d rather travel an increased distance to a normal coffee shop than to have to deal with this nonsense. Wordlessly, he sets down a £10 note and scoops the change into his wallet before watching the obviously American guy (and maybe the chain imports all their workers, who knows) pour a cup of the darkest coffee he’s ever seen. He unceremoniously sets it down in front of him and makes no indication of mentioning neither cream nor sugar. He’s lucky Mark prefers his energy supply as-is.

“Ta”, Mark mutters and scurries away, glad to escape that hard stare. To make sure he’s not being scammed, he takes a quick sip of the fragrant liquid and is surprised at how pleasant the taste is. Minimal bitterness, a gentle, almost floral note, and just strong enough to satisfy his craving.

Well, crap.

Looks like he’ll have to come back after all.

.

~*~

.

“Did you guys know the old coffee shop closed?”, Mark voices his thoughts into the middle of a medium-sized food war between Manu and Timur involving entirely too many packets of salt.

“The one on campus?”, Manu asks and accidentally elbows Julien in the ribs, causing him to actually look up from his phone for once.

“No, the one halfway to our dorm.”

“I was there last week”, Timur pipes up, making him furrow his brows. A week can’t be enough to refurnish the entire café, let alone switch owners completely. “Is it closed now?”

“There’s a different one instead. It was dead when I went, but the coffee’s good. The bloke serving me was weird.”

“Look at you, stringing multiple sentences together”, Julien chimes in, grinning. “Something novel must’ve happened for you to even bring it up. Was the dude hot?”

“Because that’s the only reason anyone would ever get excited about anything”, says Manu drily. “We can check it out if it’s good, even if the employees suck. Not like we have to socialise with them.”

Mark shrugs and regrets mentioning the café in the first place – it feels somehow personal, whether it’s to do with the odd experience overall or the fact that he ended up staying more than three hours. His productivity was through the roof, the calm atmosphere helped immensely and the thought of his loud friends – as much as he appreciates them – invading his newfound hideout isn’t one he particularly enjoys.

It turned out that the employee wasn’t so bad after all: as soon as Mark considered asking for more coffee, he appeared right by his side and filled his mug again, without bothering him at all. Still, Julien would complain about him and Timur might agree and Manu is likely to judge his impolite manner, and Mark wouldn’t be able to defend him. Even if he doesn’t mind the silent company.

For the moment, he needn’t bother with these thoughts as his friends are wholly occupied with arguing over some internet memes (and Mark remembers vividly how they all had to talk Julien down from nibbling at their laundry detergent pods), so nothing could be further from their minds than sitting down and actually studying for their degrees.

Not that they’re bad students, quite the opposite, they’re just not as… ambitious as Mark. Some have called him obsessed, yes, and he can’t quite refute it, but he prefers to call it ‘determined’. There have been few who are able to keep up with him, which is probably partly the reason why he’s made friends with people from completely different departments. He tends to be a loner in most classes, which suits him just fine.

Well. Most classes.

.

“I would give my left bollock for you.”

Mark certainly doesn’t appreciate the imagery. He hands over the photocopied sheet to the bloke nearly bouncing in delight before shuffling after his fellow students into the lecture hall. Closely followed, of course. “Make sure to change enough details”, he repeats the reminder, earning a scoff.

“I’ll make it illegible, babe, don’t worry.” James plops down next to him, stretching and taking up too much space. “You’re the only reason I’ll actually get credit for this course.”

Oh, Mark is very aware of this fact. He lets his seat neighbour prattle on as he takes out his materials, lines up his pens, and waits for the lecture to start. If he were pressed to explain how he ended up in this position, with a chatterbox glued to his side too lazy to do any of the coursework, he wouldn’t have a concise answer. Other than his inability to say no.

The problem is that James knows exactly who to befriend. Mark is naturally drawn to the overachievers in each class and carefully selects his group for projects, going by people who do put the time and work in to get a good grade – anything where students are meant to collaborate is 30% actual work and 70% politics. The right people tend to listen to him whenever he knows better, because they’re interested in improving and learning, they tend to go along with his division of tasks, because he distributes them fairly and suited to everyone’s skills, and they tend to work best independently, so they can get it done even without excessive communication.

And James? He follows the same strategy as Mark, except that he’s a leech. He latches onto the teacher’s pets, chooses the easiest tasks, always volunteers for presentations (meaning he’ll just have to regurgitate what his group produced), and bribes his groupmates so they don’t throw him out. Whether it’s snacks or drinks after class, whether it’s attention and compliments, or playing matchmaker: he knows how to make himself useful in all aspects other than his studies.

He’s a clown. He makes everyone laugh and worms his way into their hearts so they would feel bad about calling him out. Not having to do any work is his reward for asking questions everyone’s thinking but doesn’t dare ask for fear of looking stupid in front of the prof.

Obviously, James has latched onto him ever since they crossed paths in chem last semester, and Mark considered dropping the current class when he found out that he was in it as well. Even worse, James began asking him for homework, giving excuses like having had no time, not being able to write it down concisely, and so on – and though Mark initially refused, classmates approached him and gently nudged him towards sharing his results with James. Just to be nice. Just to help him. He’s such a good guy after all.

So Mark’s homework gets copied and passed along. And James’ fondness of him only grows.

During the long, meaningless rant interspersed with an impressive amount of curse words, he perks up at a quiet: “Wait, this one doesn’t make any sense.”

His pride won’t let him ignore it. “Which one?”

James points at one of Mark’s answers, a complicated equation. “Shouldn’t that be on top?”

“The denominator?”

An uncertain glance. He points again. “This.”

“You mean the bottom fraction? That’s the denominator, yes. And it is where it should be.”

James frowns, indubitably not content with the reply but possibly unsure how to voice his dissatisfaction.

“Trust me, it’s correct. Just copy it.”

“But I want to understand it.”

Fat chance. No way did he get any of the previous homework without having engaged with the subject matter at all, so it’s impossible for him to work it out, even if Mark explained it. Which he doesn’t want to. Because he figures it’d be like explaining string theory to a brick wall. He’s saved by the prof’s entry, knowing James at least has the decency to shut up during class, and hopes he can simply slip away afterwards.

It turns out, however, James is fully aware of his biggest weakness. “Do you have a bit of time after? You think you can explain it to me? Please?”

Yikes.

Not only is Mark burning to show him how wrong he is, he’s also entirely unable to refuse a plea for help. And there’s no doubt James knows this. He can’t keep getting away with it, he’s exploiting Mark enough as it is without offering much – if anything – in return, plus it’s obvious the endeavour is futile and doomed from the start. And this is disregarding the possibility of James suggesting more meetings in the future. So, like the reasonable adult he is, Mark replies: “Sure.”

And has never wanted to kick himself more.

.

If this bloke really is the only employee they have, it’s no wonder the place is dead yet again. They stare at each other, unblinking, and seem equally dismayed about each other’s presence. “Hi”, says Mark after a few seconds of tense silence.

The old man is wearing the same clothes as last time, apron and jeans – even his disinterested expression hasn’t changed. “I’m Sam”, he offers completely out of the blue, surprising Mark with how unexpected the introduction is. “I figured you shouldn’t have to keep calling me ‘this bloke’ in your head.”

“… Mark”, he responds hesitantly.

“Is that a threat?” Sam barks out a brief, mirthless laugh. “I know. You wrote it on your loyalty card.”

He most certainly did not, but only because the card is solid black with white text. “Look, I’m just here to buy coffee.”

“You brought a friend.” Sam indicates James who already sat down by a window and is absorbed in his phone for the time being – and for all his faults, Mark has to admit that at least his (limited) attention is always on the person he’s talking to; he’s never seen his fellow student even checking for messages during a conversation.

“Not really”, he says nonetheless and is reasonably sure they’re out of earshot. “We just have chem together.”

“You have chemistry, hm?”

He wonders if it’s possible to set someone on fire with a hard look alone. “Just sell me the bloody coffee.”

“For the both of you?” Sam turns around and studies the clock on the wall behind him, whispering to himself for a few seconds before announcing: “That’ll be roughly £15.84.”

“Fine.” He holds out a card, scowling when Sam makes no move to take it.

“No complaint?”

“Is it gonna be cheaper if I do? Besides, he’s paying. So I don’t care.”

“Oh. Then it’ll be £22.43.”

“Why is it -” As quickly as his annoyance spikes, it ebbs again. It’s obvious there’s no logic behind all this nonsense, yet he still tries: “If it’s cheaper for me, I’ll pay and get the money back from him.”

“That’s illegal. You’ve already told me he’s paying.”

“I’m not trying to buy liquor, why would it -” Deep breaths. He already told James about how good the coffee is, and if they go anywhere else, someone else might see them. He’s strongly incentivised to stay. “Fine. Here.”

Sam runs the card and, as last time, pours two very unimpressive mugs before, to Mark’s horror, reaching into the display case and pulling out two slices of cakes on their own respective plates. The chocolate one is drooping and threatening to fall over if anyone looked at it wrong, and the sponge cake seems suspiciously wet. There’s no telling how long they’ve been sitting there. “It’s on the house”, Sam says, almost begrudgingly, as if he was the inconvenienced one.

Mark considers asking for forks or napkins but decides that the shorter their interaction, the healthier his sanity. “Ta, mate. Do you need my loyalty card?”

“No need.”

Fair enough, though he’s not sure what the point of it is, then. He carries the coffees and cakes over in two trips and wonders how he’ll get rid of the sickly-looking bakeware without Sam noticing. When James eventually tries his piece and doesn’t keel over immediately though, Mark gives his own a try.

It’s the best chocolate cake he’s ever had. And he’s never been madder in his life.

.

~*~

.

At some point, it turns into stubbornness. There’s a few mannerisms, the odd hobby and some of his preferences which started out as either ironic, as guilty pleasures or as things he actively disliked, but the more he engaged, the more he developed the attitude of: you know what? This is mine and I don’t care what anyone says about it.

He’s starting to adopt Leo Coffee. The awkward vibe about it, the indecipherable employee, the delicious food and drinks – it holds its own charm in a way, and he’s stopped wondering about being the only patron. It’s perfect for studying or unwinding, and does wonders for his stressed soul. He’s been returning regularly now, about once a week, and even brought James with him a second time to argue about yet another homework he criticised. The atmosphere renders Mark calmer, more patient, and so he endured the other man’s presence for much longer than he would’ve thought possible. They stayed for almost three hours the first time, even longer the second.

Just to make sure he’s not being a nuisance, he tried to check the coffee shop’s opening hours and wasn’t even sure what he expected to find. They’re listed nowhere, of course, and Sam switched topics the instant he brought it up.

So now the only people he has to drag in here are his friends, who have somehow evaded his efforts so far – but not today. Timur and Julien promised to come even though Manu has to go to some recital or other, meaning she’s excused. For now.

Eyes idly following pedestrians outside, he’s resting his chin in his palm and waiting. Being the only punctual one has always meant boredom, so he’s lucky his mind is imaginative enough to keep him occupied in the meantime. His train of thought meanders through all the topics occupying his brain recently, how the new guy Julien is seeing is basically moving into their apartment, how Timur keeps hanging around the wrong crowd, how unfair it is that Manu aces all her courses with so little effort, how he happened to run into James during his break today and almost suggested spending it together -

His phone buzzes, interrupting his aimless daydreaming and prompting him to check the colourful screen.

I got ambushed, writes Julien and it’s unclear whether he’s being cryptic on purpose. Mark sends a question mark and has to wait a minute or two for the explanation: Sudden date night, looks like Netflix & chill boys ;) sry for ditching you but the shop isn’t gonna go anywhere right?

An eye roll later, Mark responds with a simple TMI.

I don’t think I’ll make it either, adds Timur, a friend wants to yarn bomb the stature by City Hall and they need me as lookout.

This one gets points for creativity at least. He sighs and reassures them with a quick sure, no problem before commending himself for not going home first to drop his bag off. Now he can just study instead. Woohoo.

Another brief vibration, this notification from a completely different group chat, one Mark apparently forgot to leave once the project was done: @Mark: are there carrots in carrot cake?

The number is translated to ‘GirthControl’, so there’s just one person this could be. He stares at his screen. Is that a trick question? Yes, he feels confident enough to affirm to James.

Ah okay. Thanks babe.

This is when it occurs to him: Wait, why did you only ask me?

Silence. Whatever quest James is currently on, it apparently required Mark’s input and Mark’s input only.

He can’t help but laugh at the absurdity and suddenly feels a lot less abandoned. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter whether his friends don’t rank him at the top of their priority list as long as he’s on it somewhere. And knowing that he’s left a lasting impression on James beyond being the lad who supplies him with homework is oddly reassuring.

When he approaches the counter, Sam once again materialising out of nowhere (at least that’s what it feels like – he’s always there when Mark needs him and never at any other time), he’s decided to not get weirded out by anything today. “A coffee”, he orders confidently and inspects the haphazardly thrown together bagels featured prominently in the infamous display case. “And a bagel.” He doesn’t bother specifying, Sam will choose for him anyway.

After peering at the digital alarm clock on the counter, Sam announces the approximate value of the aforementioned items and then squints at him. “Weren’t you going to meet with somebody?”

Mark half-shrugs. “Kinda. They’re busy though.”

“Mind if I join you?” He must notice Mark’s surprise because he adds: “It’s your ninth time here. Would be a shame if we didn’t get to talk before you’ve filled up your loyalty card, don’t you think?”

“Alright”, he agrees and waits until Sam has poured himself a mug as well before they sit down at Mark’s usual table – tucked away in a corner but close enough to the windows to be able to do people-watching if his eyes need a rest from staring at textbooks or screens all day long. It’s the first time he examines the man opposite him more closely: the distinguished features, greying beard, wild mane of hair. He looks too… important to be working in a coffee shop, like he was destined for greatness. Mark can’t picture him angry even if he exudes a bitter, cynical aura which he’s likely to hide behind sarcasm.

“How did you end up here?”, he wants to know, genuinely curious.

“Good question.” Sam takes a few sips of his excellent coffee as he ponders how to reply. “It’s a temporary thing, that’s for sure.” He leaves it at that. “What do you study?”

Mark eyes the disorganised heap of books keeping his bagel company and sighs. “At this point, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It is”, he emphasises. “I love studying.”

“Where’s the problem then?”

There is none, he wants to say yet his mouth refuses to comply. He stares into the dark liquid, running his thumb over even porcelain and then decides to sod it – he asked, right? And somehow, it’s always easier to unload on a complete stranger. “I feel like it’s all I’m doing.”

“You keep others at a distance on purpose.” He nods, even though it wasn’t a question. “So don’t be surprised if they do the same.”

“I’m not.” The warmth seeps into his palms as he wraps his hands around the mug, providing as much comfort as Sam’s gentle tone. “I just want it to be different.”

“Make an effort. It’s never to late to change. I’m sure your friends will appreciate it. Put some trust in them, they’re your friends for a reason.” He nods again, lost in thought. “Have you figured out what you’re going to wish for next time?”

He scoffs, amused. There isn’t a single thing he can imagine himself wanting from the old man before him, so he’s unlikely to wish for anything at all. “No. Not yet.”

“Well, think about it. I believe in you, son.” With that, Sam downs the last of his own coffee and gets up, ready to walk back behind the counter and only stops when Mark calls his name.

“Is there someone you care about?”

It’s the first time he sees Sam smile. “Yes. There were two, but I lost one – so I keep the other one twice as close without trying to be suffocating. It’s hard. But remember, Mark, it’s never too late to tell the people in your life how you really feel.” And then he’s gone, disappeared into the back, leaving behind a faint nostalgia tinted with hope.

There’s no challenge from which Mark has shied away in his life, and this one isn’t going to be his first.

.

~*~

.

The word fuck on his lips, Mark bursts into the café like a panicked chicken. He’s juggling two bags and his phone, his frantic typing only interrupted by the need to breathe now and then, and nearly drops it when he slams his book bag to the ground at the counter. “Sorry, one sec”, he addresses an unimpressed-looking Sam as he dials a number and curses once more when it’s not immediately picked up. “Can I get a coffee to go?”, he asks, out of breath, as the dial tone beeps in his ear.

“I don’t serve people who are on the phone”, Sam replies, as calm as ever.

Mark mentally increases the number of people who’d be dead if his looks could kill by one. “This is the worst thing to ever happen to me”, he says gravely and hangs up after thirty seconds have passed. “I’m gonna fail this class.”

“An event without precedence, I assume?”

“You have no bloody idea. But yes, a coffee please, I need to go back to the library and get an entire semester’s worth of material because I’m too fucking dumb to read a syllabus correctly. This has never happened to me, I have one day to write this assignment and I’m lacking so much -”

“Can you give me the time?”, Sam interrupts him nonchalantly and stares at the screen of Mark’s phone as he holds it up for him to read. “Thanks. Let’s say £2.63.”

“And I can’t study at home because Timur has his friends over, and Manu is in a panic herself, and I know the library is going to be overrun by people who treat the study rooms like their social media accounts by loudly oversharing all the time, and I have no idea how I’m supposed to do this. Maybe I’ll just accept fate and fail. No clue how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

“Your loyalty card.”

Distracted, Mark fishes it out of his wallet and puts it on the counter. “And the other people in chem aren’t answering or are no help at all, I don’t get it, I’ve done group projects with them and still they don’t have the courtesy to help me out in this. It was a genuine mistake, as stupid as it is, and I’m just -”

“You need to write it down.”

He’s briefly interrupted in his rant to frown at the black paper card. “Write what?”

“Your wish.”

“But you won’t be able to read it. I only have black or blue pens.”

“Doesn’t matter. Write it down.”

With an irritated sigh, Mark takes out a pen and thinks for a second, the majority of his attention elsewhere still. Eventually, he scribbles someone who cares, not that it’d be legible in any way, and hands it to Sam. “That’s it? I’m not sure this reward system is going to pay off in the long term, you know.”

Sam holds the card up to the light as if he was inspecting a bank note and nods, apparently satisfied. “You’re all set. Good luck.”

“Ta, I’m gonna need it.” Mark shoves all his belongings in various pockets, hoping he’ll remember where he put them, and grabs the to-go cup. And then, without so much as a goodbye, he storms back out, steeling himself for an all-nighter certain to mess up sleep schedule for days, if not weeks.

He ascribes it to his flustered state that he doesn’t look up as he exits the coffee shop, and promptly runs into someone, collides with what feels like a solid wall. His coffee gets squished and sloshes over, soaking the front of his clothes – fortunately, it’s not hot at all, more like lukewarm which is odd in and of itself. He swears again, yanking his phone out of his pocket before it gets wet also and it’s only due to another hand grabbing the device that it doesn’t plummet to the ground straightaway.

“Oh bollocks, I’m so sorry”, says the wall he ran into which turns out to be none other than James. Of all people. “Are you alright? Is it hot?”

“No, no, I’m fine”, Mark presses through clenched teeth, the stress slowly overwhelming him. “But now I have to go home and change before I can start on this stupid fucking -”

“Babe. Calm down. What’s wrong?”

He takes a deep breath and ignores the quickly cooling wet patches on his clothes for the moment. “I still have to do the report. I didn’t realise we were meant to -”

“Oh, you haven’t done it? At all?”

“No! No, I didn’t, and everyone else is partnered up so I can’t just join someone else, so I’ll have to -”

“I’m not paired up.”

“Sure, once I’m done I’ll put your name on there, whatever, but that doesn’t -”

“Babe. Mark. Listen to me.” James waves in front of his face with a slight grin. “I did it. It’s almost done. I’ll put down that we did it together and you’re good.”

He stares at James, mouth open, for several unflattering seconds. “Wait – you… how?”

“I can show you, but it’s at my place. My roommate is around your height, he can lend you some clothes. Let’s go.”

And yet again, Mark finds himself unable to refuse. He drinks what’s left of his coffee in one go (and it really is tepid, he must’ve gotten really lucky), tosses the cup in the nearest bin and leaves Leo Coffee behind without a single glance back.

.

James’ flat looks exactly like Mark would’ve imagined it, only louder. Double bass and epic vocals are permeating every room, and all available horizontal surfaces are littered with stuff. The walls are plastered with posters, some funny, some pretty, some morbid, and it reeks of weed.

A small part of Mark feels right at home, oddly enough.

“Turn the fucking music down!”, James yells at the top of his lungs, throwing him an apologetic look, clearly uncomfortable with the state of it all and ignorant as to Mark’s growing amusement.

Somewhere, a door opens and the shrill guitars become clearer. “Whot?”, someone replies just as loudly.

“Exactly!”, is James’ deafening reply, and a few seconds later, the melodies decrease to a reasonable level. Another bloke joins them, tall and well-built with an unkempt beard and a band shirt as well as no socks.

“Who’s that? Is he allowed to be here?”, asks James’ roommate and regards Mark with suspicion.

“That was Sabaton, wasn’t it?”, Mark inquires back. “Primo Victoria?”

The dude’s entire face lights up like a Christmas tree. “Oh, a connoisseur. He can stay, James, I like him already.”

And while the two of them exchange more words, Mark goes exploring. He ends up in what must be James’ room which is covered in paper, be it books or hand-written notes, and most of it seems related to chemistry in some way. Curious, Mark looks around until he finds a spiral-bound notepad titled with the name of the course they’re sharing this semester. Contrary to his expectations, it’s far from empty – not only does it contain copious lecture notes, it also features every assignment they’d been given since the start of the course.

Solved differently from Mark’s own answers.

Confused, he checks more closely and finds a recurring pattern: equations that are struck-through, calculations lacking several steps in between which wouldn’t be accepted by the prof this way, and very little text. It looks like the writings of someone who certainly understands the material but simply has a hard time putting his thoughts in order, putting his ideas into neat writing.

He’s been immersed for several minutes when James finally joins him, and when he does, Mark holds up his notes and greets him with a simple: “What the fuck?”

James doesn’t seem to realise where Mark’s problem lies and shrugs. “Yeah, I’m a hopeless case, I know.”

“No. No, you’re really not. This is – look here, if you just shift this around, you end up with the correct result. You’re like 95% of the way there, you just didn’t finish it.”

“Oh.” James blinks at him. “I guess. It’s kinda like that with the report. I was hoping you could help me write the conclusion, I’ve got the rest, but -”

“Sure. Yes.” Mark’s agreeableness seems to astonish his host. “That’ll take an hour, maybe two. And I won’t have to pull an all-nighter. James, you have no idea how much you saved me.”

And James, bless his soul, is blushing. “Well. No problem. I owe you anyway. Right?” He suddenly remembers he’s holding spare clothing and vaguely gestures in Mark’s direction. “You, uh, you can change in the bathroom. Don’t mind the cat, she just loves staring at naked people. Dom found out the hard way.”

Twenty minutes later, Mark is reading through James’ report with a ball of fur purring on his lap, faint metal playing in the background. There’s a lot of grammar and spelling to be fixed, as well as phrasing, but content-wise, it’s near flawless. He’s smiling to himself, enjoying the way James turns almost bashful whenever he compliments his work, and remembers Sam’s words from the second-to-last time he visited the café: it’s never too late.

He’s definitely treating James to dinner after he’s saved his arse like this.

.

The next time Mark passes by that familiar spot, the next time Mark develops a craving for caffeine and some peace and quiet, the next time he plans to go to Leo Coffee, all he finds is the same coffee shop which has been here for years already, the afternoon crowd populating the tables and several diligent employees taking care of the customers.

Somehow, Mark isn’t the least bit surprised.

[bourbonmetalhead]

64 Bourbons Bracket: Round of 32 (Matchup 5) — Booker’s Pigskin Batch Vs. Baker’s 7 Year Single Barrel

Songs: “One Big Holiday” (My Morning Jacket) vs. “Antarcticans Thawed” (Sleep).

Song to advance is an absolute upset. “Antarcticans Thawed”, by Sleep, advances over “One Big Holiday” by My Morning Jacket. Why is that an upset? My Morning Jacket is one of my favorite bands and they often close out their concerts with this song. Although the _Okonokos_ version plays... so hold that thought.

OK. Not an upset. Sleep was going to advance because I had the studio and remastered versions of “One Big Holiday” on a playlist with Sleep. And the grove, meditation, and heaviness of Sleep swayed me. The complexity. A solo!?!?! in a Sleep song. Hierophants. The song blended well with Booker’s and its length matched Booker’s finish. But then the Okonokos version of “One Big Holiday” kicked in and it is complex metal. I still don’t know the lyrics to this song. And I am in no hurry to learn them. Ride the spiritual half pipe. Do tricks on the sonic wave. Wave good bye to surfboards and drug lords and rotting November gjords. Which I feel is how gourds shoukd be spelled. I see that gjord is from Old Norse and is a girth. Speaking of gjord and girth, Sleep riffs again. Shit, it still may advance. Let me have some more bourbon and contemplation. Hopper said that mornings are for coffee and contemplation. He ordered scotch and mispronounced wine of date night (party of one for the chief of police), but he is a bottom shelf bourbon man if I ever saw one.

I drink above the bottom shelf tonight. Ice cap. Hierophants. Riffs. Darkness on the patio, save for the cellphone glow. And the Beam darlings kick in. The higher proof, fancier dressed younger Booker’s vs. the unique barreled, OWA proofed, and slightly older Baker’s. This is a fist fight. Or a pissing contest. Certainly not a drag race. I take my time.

I am in the OT phase. A second pour of both. “Mountains. Highest point. Received.” I can’t even tell what Al Cisneros is singing a quarter of the time, even though he is singing excessively slow and annunciating. And this Sleep song just interconnects with the Booker’s Pigskin batch so well. Even the solo. A Sleep solo!

Baker’s 7 Year single barrel forced an overtime. I still sip it as I type its loss. Delicious. Honey. Cinnamon. Funk. Smooth. So smooth, a bit too smooth like the studio “One Big Holiday” vs. “Okonokos” version. And I must admit my brother-in-law may have inadvertently bounced “One Big Holiday” as he said it better advance tonight.

You see, I can sometimes be a natural rebel. But it was advancing — the Okonokos version — but the Sleep song merged with the Booker’s. Just as “One Big Holiday” did before. Shit, I even wrote “One Big Holiday” batch on the bottle. But this bourbon has a different, slower, mysterious, ancient, climate change-affected energy. I guess this is now Booker’s “Antarcticans Thawed” batch.

Do Antarcticans even exist? Al Cisneros cares not. He creates words. As the I-75 traffic that merges with the song cares not, all exists and interconnects — generally without cognizance of interconnection. If there is an Antarctic Legion, and if its members drink bourbon; I have no doubt the Antarctic legion would prefer Booker’s.

I will always go crazy when My Morning Jacket hit the first note of “One Big Holiday” in concert. And I will certainly buy another bottle of Baker’s 7 Year Single Barrel after this one gets drained. “One Big Holiday” and Baker’s 7 Year Single Barrel are both winners and they both forced overtime, but Booker’s Pigskin (Antarcticans Thawed) Batch and “Antarcticans Thawed” advance to the Sweet 16!

Raise your horns! Cheers! Now it’s time to turn down the jams before the cops show up!

Oh, by the way, I absolutely hate the smell of nail polish remover.

[abiteofnat]

If you’re reading this, I’m coming back to Chicago, beetch

The non-existent rumors are true. After a brief 10-month exit from the city to soak up the fresh air and social distance-friendly suburbs, I am now returning to Chicago as a single, slightly more anxious version of myself. While I’m still trying to kick some of the anxiety and OCD that COVID-19 pushed from “lifelong tagalongs” to “all-controlling demons”, I feel 97% ready to be back where I feel most myself, and cannot wait to welcome that change. While that 3% still makes me a little uncomfy and hesitant, I’m a believer in pushing your boundaries to allow yourself to grow, and also, I am really sick of suburbs food. 

Ha! I joke. I wouldn’t move downtown simply for access to more diverse & higher quality food... or would I? All I know is while there are plenty of gems in the North Shore, I’ve eaten take out from all of them ten times over, and I did not foster my dislike of cooking out of nowhere. My parents do not enjoy cooking, my sister pretends to enjoy cooking, and I will cook if it is 5 ingredients or less. My latest speciality is a toasted bagel with butter, hummus, and EBTB seasoning. Voila. So when it comes to dinner, we are living off of a carousel of suburban favorites, and are losing steam as we are still not comfortable with dining inside (or dining inside in the city, where the fun food is). 

All of this to say, it’s exciting to imagine what life is going to be like in a few short weeks. While I’m still extra precautionary, I can’t wait to have my own space downtown, where I can enjoy coffee on my little balcony (!!!) and dream of the days friends can come squeeze into my studio safely while I lay out an entire table of sharable spreads and snacks from Ema (Charred Eggplant Spread is the best one, don’t fight me). 

So you may ask, how did you come to this decision to move to the heart of downtown out of seemingly nowhere, you hermit? 

It starts with my mom and I having a brief, simultaneous breakdown and coming to the conclusion that we would both feel comfortable doing a staycation downtown, as long as we wore masks, sanitized always, and braved the cold to eat outside. This was big for me! As a person with real OCD, not cute TV show “I have to keep my pens straight” OCD, this would be the most exposure I’d had to a lot of uncontrollable variables since the pandemic started. If you’re thinking, “you get to spend a weekend downtown in a hotel with your mom, shut up”, know that I hear you. I am unbelievably grateful that I’ve gotten this time with my parents, and that we can do a staycation. However, having anxiety comes at a cost, and that cost is blowing everything way the fuck out of proportion instead of being able to rationalize it sometimes. Let’s! Normalize! Having! This! Discussion!

So, we went downtown in early March for a two-night stay, and oh my goodness. The realization that we got to be in a different space, and do different things, and eat different food for a weekend made it feel like a legit vacation, and not like we drove 30 minutes to get there. The view from our room was of Michigan Ave, and hearing the traffic and seeing the people out and about instantly made me feel a sense of peace I wasn’t expecting. I’ve lived downtown for 6 years, but it always shocks me how much the city feels like an extension of me once I’m in it after being away. My mom and I went out for a walk (gentle yet forceful reminder to please wear a mask), then decided to grab dinner while we were out. The plan was to bring it back to the room, but there was a warm spell, and there just happened to be a table for two at Topolobampo on Clark, and suddenly we were sitting on the patio under the lights eating masa quesadillas dipped in a spicy salsa verde. It just happened!!! 

Before getting downtown, I was tentatively looking at apartments for the spring. I was looking at Lincoln Park, Old Town, maybe Lakeview, and came across a listing in the Gold Cost that caught my eye. That one was swiped out from under me within days, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the area. Then I discovered another unit that was available, and couldn’t shake it from my mind. Over mushroom tacos I discussed it with my mom, and we decided to go see it. Totally not what I had been planning for in terms of location, but why not? 

Once we polished off breakfast the next morning (Eggs Benedict with fried eggs, extra hollandaise) we headed out to see the place. Let me say I have never seen my mom fall in love with a single apartment I’ve lived in, and she was ALL. FOR. IT. Unreal reaction on her part. Once I saw the west-facing views and the incredible natural lighting, I was 100% in as well.

We spent the rest of the weekend wandering the downtown area, enjoying another dinner outside at The Gwen and my mom’s first visit to the Starbucks Reserve Roastery, which was 95% more empty than I’ve ever seen it given we went in a pandemic at 8:30PM. Shit on Starbucks all you want, but that Roastery is an incredible use of space (in non-pandemic times) and the coffee & Princi pastries are really, really good. 

When we got back home feeling refreshed and like we had actually gone on a vacation, I jumped into apartment shark mode real fast and signed as many documents as the very kind realtor could send over. One week later, whabaam, I was a Gold Coast girl. Ahem, *lady*. What better way to celebrate than going to Somerset and having the Rapini & Roasted Garlic Flatbread and Wild Mushroom Risotto? No clue. As I sat outside, yet again with my mom, I felt a wave of excitement come over me and realized, this is it. This is the sign and feeling I’ve been waiting for, telling me it’s time to move back to the city and start over. The creamy, herbacious risotto also helped solidify that. 

SO. After all of that, the news is I’m moving, and you’re probably wondering why I shared all of this on a blog about food. I meant for this post to be about everywhere I ate during my staycation, but realized quickly we ate at some very basic places - DELICIOUS, but still basic. Oops. Below are all the dishes I had and a rundown of the flavors, textures, etc., however don’t expect to find any new, revolutionary restaurants. Sorry! 

1. Topolobampo 

This Rick Bayless restaurant has been around forever, and unfortunately, you can tell by the interior. We’ve eaten here as a family a couple of times before, but never had a noteworthy experience. I can confirm that in a pinch, the patio covered in fun lights & mini piñatas, and the sharable, filling bites will do just fine. This was my first time going to a Mexican restaurant as a non-alcohol drinker, and instead of my typical mezcal margarita, I opted for a Fresh Limeaide which was refreshing and flavorful. We split the Guacamole and Chips, which if you’ve ever stopped at the Frontera in O’Hare, you know is good as fuck. It’s smooth, creamy, tangy, and topped with chopped onions and cilantro for a little crunch. It’s not the most life-changing, but it is consistently satisfying. Next, we got the Mushroom Tacos and Masa Quesadillas. The Masa Quesadillas were a fun surprise, as instead of a tortilla, the masa is what makes up the outside. They are almost like empanadas and stuffed with gooey, melty cheese, and come with a spicy salsa verde on the side. I would come back for these alone - they’re rich yet light, warm, and comforting, all the things you would want when dining outside when it’s still a little chilly. The Mushroom Tacos were quite frankly unreal, because whatever they seasoned the mushroom slices with and grilled them on made them taste unlike any mushroom I’ve had before. There was definitely some meat crossover on the grill, so don’t order those if you’re vegan, or ask them to prepare the mushroom separately. I however was LOSING MY MIND. Over mushrooms. The joys of being vegetarian! 

2. The Gwen

On a happening Saturday night in Chicago, Upstairs at The Gwen is sure to be a packed scene. Located in River North, this hotel bar/restaurant offers a somehow cozy rooftop filled with loungey couches, fire pits, and ambient lighting, even though you’re surrounded by apartments and skyscrapers and there is nothing “cozy” about River North. Every table was filled, yet since you’re outside and it’s fairy spread apart, it still felt safe. I got my new classic, a Lemonade, and we got the Burrata to start. With sourdough, roasted beets, squash, pomegranate, pistachio, & arugula, this plate was nothing short of mouth-watering. It has textures! It has flavors! It has pomegranate seeds, the TikTok must have of the moment! The bread was 10/10, the burrata was 8/10, and all of the toppings made for a very find bite of salad on their own. For my main I got the Lobster Fettucine, a beautiful bowl of “charcoal fettuccine with saffron-tomato sauce, lobster, calabrian chili butter, and basil-brioche crumbs” as listed on their website. Take any of those ingredients and it’s going to be delicious, but all of them TOGETHER? INCREDIBLE. The chunks of lobster were huge, absolutely making the dish worth its price tag, and the sauce was flavorful, unique, and unlike any sauce I’ve tasted in the last few years. It’s typical to do a squid ink pasta with seafood and tomato sauce, but the saffron added a new element I very much appreciated. 

3. The Starbucks Roastery 

I KNOW. THIS IS A TOURIST DESTINATION. All I am saying is if there’s no line, go get an iced latte with two packets of sugar in the raw. That’s all. It’s really good after something like, I don’t know, Lobster Fettucine. 

4. The Penninsula 

You cannot go wrong with hitting up The Penninsula for breakfast or brunch, especially if you are staying there and have the option to do room service. Typically we would go to Pierrot Gourmet, the cafe in the ground floor of The Penninsula, however it has been closed temporarily. If there’s one thing to order with your breakfast, it’s the smashed fingerling potatoes. Delish. 

5. Somerset 

Somerset is becoming a quick go-to of mine for an impromptu dinner downtown, given it’s in the heart of Gold Coast and is cute if you’re sitting indoors or outdoors. The food is nothing too innovative, but it is done well, which is the most important part with “cuter” restaurants that may focus on the Instagram appeal over the food sometimes. Each time I’ve gone I’ve gotten the seasonal flatbread and a pasta or risotto, usually something with mushrooms, and it’s always been plate-licking good. To drink, I got -you guessed it- a Lemonade! For dinner I went with the Wild Mushroom Risotto which was everything you could hope for in a risotto, topped with olive oil, herbs, and local parmesan. We split the Rapini & Roasted Garlic Flatbread which was as it sounds, flatbread covered in rapini, garlic, and ricotta, which added a nice crunch and had enough rapini to feel like it was replacing a boring vegetable side dish or salad. The patio vibes were wonderful, the judgemental girls in the greenhouses looked like they were having a good time, and our waiter couldn’t have been sweeter. I will be going back to try the Fontina Arancini, which I just noticed on the menu. FRICK. 

So there you have it, a very long-winded explanation of the last few weeks of my life and where you can find me on a staycation in Chicago. Hopefully once I move back to the city I’ll have endless new spots to try and won’t be basic anymore! 

Until next time, Happy Eating!

-Natalie 

[hiro-gari]

Just saw this post this morning: https://bamsara.tumblr.com/post/648921115261108224/here-i-did-the-shipping-dynamic-thingie-if-you

It got me thinking that the ship dynamics number 1, 2, 3, 5, 6, and 7 could be Batarou! Here let me explain what I'm thinking about them..

---------------------------

#1 : "Both have equal strength, but one of them is batshit crazy."

Basically Garou and Badd in canon, lol! They're of course equally strong, and Garou is usually the one who goes berserk batshit feral. Back then it was when Garou fighting against the S-Class heroes, nowadays he becomes feral when something bad happened to his beloved delinquent hero.

But that doesn't mean if Badd couldn't be feral, too. In fact, he could be very frightening when he does it. Especially whenever people mocked Garou's past as hero hunter, or worst, saying that Garou didn't deserved a good boyfriend/husband like Badd. It would set Badd on fire, and there will be at least destroyed building at the end of carnage. While Garou on the sideline watching the whole scenes: "Well mark me down as scared and horny." 😳🔥

----------------

#2 : "The chaotic human with no self-preservation whatsoever, and the supernatural creature desperately trying to keep them alive."

Yooo we had already know Badd is ABSOLUTELY have no self-preservation whatsoever, courtesy by Zenko and Garou. Being so selfless and too determinated by his goals, wont back down at all before he finished the business.. 😔

And Garou is the Human Monster, now that they're dating, will protect and keeps Badd alive at all cost! Sometimes he must dragged Badd away forcibly from the battlefield because Badd is just too stubborn 👿

But if you want the more accurate depiction, I actually have written an older headcanon about it last year. It was about Demon Garou and Human Badd, with Demon Garou slowly becomes "Guardian Demon" for Super Clumsy™ Badd, by saving his life instead of eating his soul because he fell in love with the human.

Badd was desperately finding a way to cure Zenko from chronic illness, and he decided to summon a demon to help him saving Zenko in exchange for his soul. The demon, Garou, accepted the contract and ready to reap his soul whenever he wanted after Garou saved Badd's little sister.

But the problem was, Garou didn't expect that Badd is so clumsy and always endangered his own life. Everytime Garou wants to eat Badd’s soul, he always doing something reckless that makes Garou had urge to save his life. He didn’t want to reap Badd’s soul when he’s in such stupid moment like that, he wants the best time possible.

Then slowly, the demon realized that he doesn't even want to eat Badd's soul anymore, instead he wanted to protect him, to cherish and loving him dearly. Thus, he becomes "Guardian Demon".

You can read the full version of it in here, if you're curious: https://kaincuro.tumblr.com/post/615404377513066496/

Which is it also have been made as a lovely story by @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas with a title “Dangerous Illusion” in here: archiveofourown.org/works/23665795/chapters/56809585

-----------------

#3 : "The super popular celebrity, and the cafe barista that doesn't know (or care) who they are."

Considering in canon, basically Garou being a "celebrity villain" who debuted for his new career as Hero Hunter in Hero Association HQ. And Badd doesn't even know what Garou looks like (he asked himself "Is it Garou??" when he faced some monsters in sushi shop) or even recognized him at the first glance (he thought Garou just a troublesome punk boy or random annoying civillian).

Now imagine them in AU where: Garou is either a supermodel or a famous singer who likes to drop by in a small cozy coffee shop because the barista is so cute, so he tried to come as a regular to flirt with Badd and also drinking his delicious coffee. Garou genuinely likes Badd's own brewed coffee, or any of his creations. If Badd wasn't on his shift at that day, then Garou just "Bye!" while giving middle finger to any of Badd's coworkers that were unfortunately saw this bastard guy appeared on the shop.

And Badd who doesn't care anything about idols after the whole Amai Mask worshipping™ done by Zenko so he never recognize Garou's public persona than the fact Garou is a super annoying Handsome&Hot™ guy. He just want to get his job done and making some money to pay for Zenko's tuition. Whenever Garou comes (or barging through) into the coffee shop, Badd could sense his impending migraine would also coming soon. Always takes time too long on ordering things because Garou just want to talk with this cutie barista, and trying to get his phone number lmao!

Imagine Garou entering Badd's coffee shop, dressing either like suspicious shady guy, lonely punk teen, or nerdy but Cool™ boy. But I love to imagine Garou usually go with Nerdy Look with an adorable beanie hat and reading glasses, totally different with his appearance when he's on job.

Badd secretly loving Garou's presence (minus the bastard attitude), especially when he was calm and immersed on whatever he was doing, like enjoying Badd's coffee, reading books, working on some work-related documents on his laptop, etc. When Garou talking with Badd (no flirting when he's working), Badd always like to listen his voice. The more they know eachother, the more they attracted to eachother. And they ended up having huge crush and mutual pining, before finally dating!

Badd was honestly surprised when he learned about Garou's other persona as celebrity after Zenko told him or showing some magazine article about Garou, lol! Badd getting his mind blown: "I'M DATING A CELEBRITY???"

-----------------

#5 : "The childhood friends, where one of them kills someone to protect the other, and they must take that secret to their grave."

This is like the Childhood Batarou AU but gets a dark twist. Usually we have kid Badd protecting a bullied kid Garou from Tacchan and the mean kids, maybe as far hurting Tacchan in the process at the max but I couldn't see kid Badd killing anyone, since he's too precious.. 😣💦

But if we seriously get on the dark version of it, maybe kid Badd killed kid Garou's abusive dad? Then they buried the body on the backyard, and since they both lived on some desolate village/suburban area, nobody know the event? Then they keep their darkest secret to their grave. Badd didn't regret on dirtied his own hands by blood, as long as he can protect Garou and nobody would hurting him anymore.

Is this too dark? 😅 I'm so sorry, let's just stick to the pure Childhood Friends with Tiny Hero Badd! 👏😤

This is what I have about Childhood Hero Badd AU headcanon: https://hiro-gari.tumblr.com/post/645500921001000960/

Which is it also have been made as a super heartwarming and fluffy story by @hiro-gari with a title “Charmed” in here (plz check it out guys!): archiveofourown.org/works/30301986

----------------

#6 : "The fugitive witch running from false accusation of crime, and the tired, magic-skeptic scientist now hiding their friend fron the law."

THIS IS EXACTLY THE UNIVERSAL HEADCANON BATAROU WE HAVE IN THE FANDOM, LMAOOO!! 😂😂😂

Fugitive Garou hiding from Hero Association in Badd's house because they believed Garou is a high-class criminal and a monster who must be punished severely, denying the fact that Garou hasn't killed anyone or even hurting innocent civillians. And Badd is one of very few people who trust Garou and Tareo's confession, so Garou ended up trusting him back by GOING INTO HIS HOUSE FOR PROTECTION, lol! 😆

Now Badd has a stray feral, now tamed, puppy wolf in his home. And harbouring the currently fugitive wanted man could endanger his job, his family, and also Garou himself. That's a tiring daily task to keep people from discovering the truth. But Badd be like, "Fuck the consequences, I wont let anyone hurt Garou anymore" 😠

But if we give it a twist to be more about a Magical AU, maybe Garou is a very chaotic but kindhearted wizard who loves to help bullied kids, poor people, and underdog people in his village. But someone who hates him spreading the false rumours about Garou and getting a mass to hunt him down.

It made Garou furious and he unleashed his anger by his powerful magic that caused the people getting hurt, but nobody died. Kinda regretting his action because it means Garou couldn't stay any longer in his birthplace village, he fled to downtown area in the crowded city far away from his home. But not forgetting to give protection charm for every single person in his village for as a farewell gift, and casted a longstanding protection spell around the village area to repel any bad-intentioned people from entering it.

Then after being a fugitive wizard who looks more like a lone hobo wolf, Garou was wandering around the city without any fixed destination. In the moment of loneliness and desperation, he found someone kind enough to help him (it was Badd) by giving warm food (it was Badd's takeaway fastfood dinner he just bought on the way home after work).

Thus without Badd knowing, Garou following him until they reaching Badd's house (Garou casted a spell to make himself invisible). Imagine Badd was alerted in the middle of night when suddenly there's a suspicious sounds from his kitchen, and Tama was meowing like crazy which is never happened unless there's some stranger intruding his house. When he comes downstairs, he found out there's an invisible force TAKING HIS FOOD FROM THE FRIDGE!

Badd was freaking out and grabbing his metal bat to bonk anything behind that invisible force, but failed because he was disarmed by that force. Then Garou revealed himself that he's a fugitive wizard, asking for a help for a temporary hideout. Badd, who never believed in magic (Zenko is), was baffled at Garou's claim until Garou showed himself what he capable of. Which got Badd awestrucked, and maybe charmed by Garou's awesomeness.

Then their daily life is basically similar like what we have as the universal headcanon, just with a sprinkle of magic 🔮✨

-----------------

#7 : "WHATEVER THE FUCK THIS IS, NO BRAIN."

This can be applied to any Batarou headcanon, either canon divergents or AUs! Even also for them in platonic friendship Shitty Teen Squad, yeah especially this! 😆

They're complementing eachother and definitely would share 1 braincell, in which frustated Genos to no end because it seems he's the one who could make the braincell functional enough make them behave well, lol. But despite all of that, Garou and Badd are a pair of loveable dumbasses 😉👍💖

-----------------------

You would immediately know which dynamics I hyperfixated on, hehe 😜

Yeah personally when I saw the list, I think the ship dynamics #3 and #6 have the freshly good potential for Batarou AU stories! That's why I made them like that. Plz someone make it into more coherent story I'm incapable to write them decently enough I will pass the baton to you aaaa-- 👀😫💦

Honorable mention for dynamic #2 because it's a personal favorite (Demon Garou is Perfection™ 😈✨), and also that the hc means so much to me.. 😌

That's all I have to say about Batarou ship dynamic based on the post, hopefully it could entertain you today! 😚👌💕

Thanks alot for: @hiro-gari, @the-goddessfighter, @kaincuro, @garous-nipple, @jusqu-une-etudiante, @guby1620, @lovelybutnot-ablankcanvas, and @krystalseijuro, also all of Batarou shippers in the fandom! Thank you for always giving me encouragement to keep making more silly contents of Batarou, I really appreciate you all! 😭🙏💕💞💖💝

Hope you have a great day~ 😎👍🌸🌼🌻🌷💐

-Little1993lamb-

-------------------------

~Lilia:

UM I saw the link and went “no way” because I literally saw that post not two days ago and was thinking about how the first and last ones suited these Boys very well.. BUT also I was like yk who would be able to come up with a brilliant scenario for any one of these??? the emoji anon of course... And, here you are, and you have done just that, and I’m SHOOK like AHHH how’d you know I needed this??

For the first one, I hadn’t even considered feral Badd 😳 I agree it’d be very frightening, since he’s a tough guy but still generally a sweetheart, when he snaps he probably s n a p s and no one is safe

Omg, Demon Garou.. 🤤 *head suddenly empty* Nothing more to say there 😂 But I love clumsy sweetheart Badd ghhhhhsk, I read Dangerous Illusions some time ago and absolutely adored it, I hadn’t seen your original post though, thank you so much for sharing it!! 😩👌

BARISTA BADD yaaas 👏 Especially him doing it for Zenko’s tuition awwe 🥺 he’s totally clueless as to who that nerdy bastard is, I love it!

Ooo the fifth one tho... Reminds me of the flashback scene in AoT where they just... stab the human traffickers 😳 Though I could see it actually, especially if Badd felt Garou’s life was genuinely in danger, and the situation called for someone to intervene immediately 😢 Gave me the feels wahhh

Magical wizard Garou?? All of my yes?? *heart eyes mf* I can just imagine Garou’s troublemaking increasing tenfold with the addition of magic he’d be a top tier prankster, Fred and George meet Garou and Badd especially if he can make himself invisible 😂 dude that fridge EMPTY! I LOVE THIS SM 💖

Ah yes, the last one :”) “two halves of a whole idiot” and annoying the shit out of poor Genos 😂 One of my fave tropes for them for sure!!

Thank you sm for doing this anon!! Your raw creativity never ceases to amaze me 💕💗 THIS IS A BLESSING 🥰 I hope you have a wonderful day too!

[kooala]

whatever you need - second chapter

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader, Jimin dating best friend Hannah, ex bf tae

Tags: strangers to lovers! college!au

Genre: fluff, mutual pining, reader isn’t interested in relationships at first

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: none I thinkkk

Summary: The fact that your brain seemed to be occupied with a boy didn’t really sit well with you and the bold flirting made your head spin. But for some strange reason - you really didn’t mind. 

A/N: sorry it took me so longsdsadkfh but here’s the second chapter xx

<<previous 

masterlist

As you waited outside their frat house in your car, ready to pick up that friend of yours, again, you felt like a proper soccer mom, driving your kids around to playdates although Hannah was definitely playing a different sort of ball game.

A knock on your car window caused you to twitch and as you saw Namjoon staring at you with a bright smile on his face, you rolled down the window. 

“Is this going to be a frequent weekend thing now?” he asked, handing over a proper cup of coffee, fresh and steaming. Holding his own cup, you looked out of the window to him with a smile on your face. 

“Thank you very much.”, you snickered, taking a sip and closing your eyes at the taste of the coffee. This wasn’t any cheap ass college student version of a coffee. This one was roasted and delicious. 

“That’s some good ass coffee.”, you mumbled quietly, enjoying the fact that Namjoon obviously knew what he was doing and stepped out of the car eventually to chat with him outside on their lawn. 

“Right? This is what I pull when I want to impress a girl.”, he joked, but the fact that Namjoon had offered you some coffee twice now, caused your stomach to feel a little tingly.

“Well I’m sure you get them all if you brew coffee like that.”, you smiled, sitting down at the steps on the front porch next to him, waiting for Jimin and Hannah to finish up their snogging and snuggling inside. You really enjoyed the cup of coffee that warmed your hands. The slightly chilly morning made it feel even more perfect to sit outside on the porch and wearing your sweat shorts and university sweater, you definitely felt like the coffee cup only added to the college look. 

“Thanks for walking me home yesterday. I know I’ve said it before but it was the complete opposite direction of where you were going so I do appreciate it a lot.”, you smiled over at Namjoon and he shrugged it off smiling. 

“No worries at all. Anytime. And just for the record? Jimin has a car so technically you don’t need to pick her up every time they bang. But I’m going to be really disappointed if we lose those early morning coffee sessions together, not going to lie.”

He chuckled and took a sip of his cup, stretching out his legs down the steps and faced the sun with closed eyes, enjoying the outside. Something about his settle way of flirting made you feel all over the place, especially since none of it was over the top or intrusive. Namjoon flirted in a settle manner, honest and not trying to impress someone with grand gestures. Being someone who wasn’t into flirting if you didn’t know someone well, your bodies reaction seemed to confuse you a little. 

“In that case, you better not mention the car thing to Hannah so I can come by more often.”, you chuckled and Namjoon peeked over out of one of his eyes, a bright smile on his face. 

“Better not.”, he chuckled and you put both your hands around the coffee cup, taking another sip while enjoying the crisp morning air. 

“I know I’ll miss you, too.”, you heard voices behind you in the hallway and Namjoon and you shared a knowing look, both of you trying hard not to laugh at the dramatic situation that had been building up between Jimin and Hannah over the past weeks. He really wasn’t someone to date and now that the two of them seemed to be official, everything was very dramatic and full of emotions between them. If they fought, they fought hard, if they made love, Namjoon couldn’t help but leave the house or listen to some music to get away from it. Now that Jimin was visiting his family in Korea for two weeks, you had no idea how you were going to survive this with Hannah constantly talking about him at the dorm already. 

“If you ever need out, you can call.”, Namjoon whispered and you had to chuckle. 

“I don’t even have your number, I could always ring though.”, you smiled and Namjoon held out his hand with a smile on his face, holding his phone over to you. 

“Well, looks like we’re going to have to change that.” 

It had been a while since somebody had asked you for your number and usually, you were never too keen on giving it away. Something about Namjoon asking made you feel emotions you hadn’t felt in a long time. The excitement of it all made you feel a little skittish and with a shy smile on your face, you typed it in along with your full name for him to safe. 

“Ohohooooo what’s going on here?” Jimin had knelt down between the two of you, his face uncomfortably close between both of your faces and the sudden loud sound made you jump. 

“Why do you have to be like that, Park?”, Namjoon stated calmly, looking up to him and Jimin shrugged with a smug little smirk on his face, giving Hannah a last kiss goodbye.

Sipping that last sip of coffee you handed Namjoon the cup, smiling at him and with closed eyes and a scrunched up nose, he smiled a wide smile that made your stomach twist and tingle. Shaking your head with a chuckle, you got up to walk down the steps to catch up with Hannah who had rushed to the car.

“I meant it!”, he yelled after you, sitting up on the porch. “Call if you want out.” You watched Jimin sit down next to him and mumble something and Namjoon didn’t even blink once, his eyes locked with yours. Another shy smile, you shook your head chuckling and disappeared into the car, driving off while Hannah was nagging you about what had just happened all the way back. 

The following Saturday and Sunday came, without a text from Namjoon. You hadn’t really expected him to text but as he actually didn’t, you found yourself in the position of being a little sad about it. Something very uncommon for you since you happened to be the kind of girl that put being happy alone before feeling completed by someone else first. The fact that your brain seemed to be revolving around whether or not this guy was going to text you, caught you a little off guard. 

You saw him in class once, sitting all the way across the lecture hall and although you had debated on sitting next to him a couple of times, it had never entirely felt right for some reason – so the confusion was big as you and a couple of friends walked into a coffee shop off campus after your last exam to celebrate, before all of you were forced to prep everything for the next semester, when all of a sudden Namjoon popped up behind the counter, towering up behind the big coffee machine. 

Furrowing your brows in amusement you watched him, waiting for him to recognize you and as his head shot up to look through the crowd and his eyes met yours, his focused features softened and a slight smirk crossed his lips, putting his beautiful dimples on full display.

Mouthing a shy “Hey.”, you nodded and Namjoon waved, mouthing it back to you before turning his attention back down to his coffee machine and the foamed milk in his hand. 

All of a sudden you felt way more excited about coffee than you usually would and as you and your friends came up to the register, Namjoon slid in fast between his co-worker in order to be able to take your orders. 

“What can I get for you guys?”, he asked with a sheepish grin, tapping his long finger on the screen, ready to take your orders. All of a sudden you didn’t even remember that you came with people.

“Well what is it you would recommend?”, you asked and looked at him with raised eyebrows. You had to chuckle at his expression as he ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly a little nervous.

“I can recommend the whipped crepes cake with strawberries, it’s really delicious. Oreo roll is also very good but if I could recommend anything, I’d say I’ll pick you up at seven and show you that new restaurant that opened in Gangnam if you’re available.” 

The words didn’t even make their way into your ears properly. All you could hear was a slight ringing while you watched him and the sudden fear of heading into something way too fast was striking you like a slap in the face. Trying not to lose your cool you nodded.

“I’ll take the strawberry crepes cake then.”, you smirked and Namjoon’s eyes flickered between yours, trying to read your expression, worried this may have been a no. “Text me.”, you said smiling and stepped aside to make way for your friends who had more than confused expressions on their faces. 

“I will.”, Namjoon nodded and smiled at you while taking the other orders and as you walked off a couple of steps to sit down at a table, one of your friends sat down next to you with big eyes. 

“What was that about?”, her voice was so excited she had to cover her mouth with one hand in order to not burst out with an excited little scream. “Do you know Namjoon?”, she asked and you looked at her confused. 

“Do you?”, you replied and watched her chuckle, turning her head over to watch his long hands slide over the coffee machine which made you assume he had been doing this for a long time. 

“Everybody does. Namjoon is like... the perfect boyfriend. He’s illiterate, caring, absolutely beautiful... obviously. How come you know him? Why did he ask you out?”

The tone of her voice didn’t really resonate with you and with a straight expression you looked at her. “What do you mean? Why would you say it like that?” 

She immediately put her hands up in defense and you knew you were right about your gist. “I mean I’m just saying.. You’re not the outgoing type. You’re not.. suuuuper girly you know what I mean? I’m not saying you’re not attractive I’m just saying I thought he’d go more for... the super mean IT-girl.”, she rambled and you nodded, wondering if those people sitting down at your table, talking about what had just happened were really your friends. 

Feeling your phone ring in your hand, you looked down. 

Unknown Number [1:57 pm]: You look a little stressed. Sorry for being bold in front of your friends

You [1:57 pm]: It’s okay, no worries at all (:

You saved his contact and smiled as you put a little coffee cup emoji behind his name. 

Namjoon☕️ [1:59 pm]: So? What do you say? I’ll pick you up for dinner?

Looking up from your phone you watched him work for a little while and bit your lip thinking about the offer. There was no harm in going out for dinner with him, if anything it would give you a chance to get to know him but something about the way he had rushed his way into your brain made you hesitate. 

You [2:01 pm]: What are options besides dinner? 

Feeling a little shy and as soon as you sent off the text you played with your phone nervously while watching him work behind the counter. It took him a while before he picked up his phone again and as he read the message, he looked over to you and smiled shrugging. “Whatever you want.” he mouthed and with a smile you had to look down, heat rushing into your cheeks. 

You let the words echo through your head. Whatever you want.

You [2:14 pm]: Let’s go for a walk later. Tell me when you’re off

Namjoon☕️ [2:15 pm]: I’ll be off at six latest. A walk sounds lovely 😊

You sat at the café for a while and Namjoon had been right, the fluffy cake made of thin pancakes with whipped cream and strawberries was delicious and you took your time to eat it. As you walked over ready to head out, you handed over your tray with your empty cup and plate and Namjoon took it with a nod, smiling over.

“Looking forward to it. Should we meet up somewhere? Or want to walk together?” His smile was genuine, his eyes open and focused on you entirely. It made you feel very special and maybe that was the dangerous part, the fact that Namjoon made you feel so special when he was around. 

“What would you prefer? I’m ok with either.”, you say a little shy now, nothing from the little cocky replies from earlier seemed to be left now that the nerves had kicked in. 

“If you’re ok with it I’d say we’ll meet up at the library and walk from there?” He smiled and handed over a little paper bag for you. As you took it, you peaked inside to find a cinnamon muffin inside of it. 

With a smile you closed the bag and looked over to him.

“Almost as good as dinner.”, he winked before wiping his hands on his apron and headed back to turn around and get to the pile of order papers that were out on the counter, waiting for him to prepare them. 

At seven, you waited in front of the library. You had put some effort into your outfit and hair, not too much to not make it look desperate but you had thought about how effortlessly good Namjoon had looked in that turtle neck and coat.

“Hey, [y/n].”, he smiled, walking up to you and you looked up at him with a bright smile. Namjoon was wearing a thick cardigan, a white shirt under it and some rolled up beige dress pants that seemed to be a little too big, making him look like he was fresh out of bed and absolutely preppy at the same time. 

He tended to do that. Looking cozy and put together all at once. 

“Hey, you.”, you smiled up and Namjoon held over his hand with a shy smile, opening it up. Inside was a single purple flower and once you saw it your cheeks turned bright red immediately. This had to be the cutest thing anyone has ever done for you. 

“Figured an entire bouquet would’ve been a little too much.”, he smiled confidently and pointed at the flower. “May I?”, he asked and hesitantly took a step towards you. Namjoon looped the stem of the flower through the unbutton top slit of your coat, making it look like brooch on your coat. 

“Thank you very much. It’s really pretty.”, you smiled, looking down at it and back to Namjoon who had pushed both his hands in his pockets now.

“Shall we?”, he asked and with a nod and a tingly feeling in your stomach, you turned to follow him as he turned towards the direction of town. 

If you’ve managed to read this far, I’d be more than thankful if you could like and reblog my chapter if you enjoyed it! If you have any suggestions for improvement or a drabble request - make sure to shoot me a message!✨

© kooala (stealing, translating or reuploading to other sites is prohibited.) 

[criminalrambling]

Checkers and Coffee

Pairing: spencer reid x reader

Rating: G , fluffy! Some mention of a stalker, typical unsub stuff but story does not take place during a case. Enjoy the cute!

__________________________________________

The Charleston sun was still rising, not yet heating the air to sweltering, and the morning smelled of coffee and salt water. Most people would have been asleep at their vacation homes at this time of day, but you happened to be seated in a cozy booth at the local diner across from a certain tall, tousle-haired Doctor. The rest of his team had left earlier that morning on their jet, but unrelated to their recent case, they were transporting two Marines back to DC and two people needed to wait for a later commercial flight… you’d all drawn straws, and the lucky agents to stay behind were yourself and one Dr. Spencer Reid. 

You’d checked out of the hotel, but hadn’t wanted to go to the airport just yet. So you’d convinced Spencer to join you at one of your favorite places for a few cups of coffee and breakfast. It must have been the lack of sleep combined with lack of coffee that caused you to challenge someone with an eidetic memory to a strategy game.

“You really think you can beat me?” His brown eyes glinted as he raised his left brow and smirked. 

You rolled your eyes and nudged the round crimson game piece one space forward. “It’s checkers, Spencer. Not chess.”

“True,” he responded, scooting forward a black piece of his own. “But there’s still a significant amount of strategy involved. Did you know that versions of checkers were played as far back as 3,000 BCE? Archaeologists found evidence of a similar game in the Iraq city of Ur, and there have been other versions played throughout history. Though I’m not sure any of those versions involved a fabric board…” 

His sentence was cut off by a grey-haired waitress who took your breakfast orders with military precision and a smile. You didn’t place a dainty order either. If Spencer thought you were a gluttonous cow, then so be it… breakfast was the best meal of the day, and you didn’t make it to Fleetwood Diner nearly often enough. You were pleased that Spencer took your suggestion of pancakes as part of his order, though his were plain and not the blueberry ones you preferred. 

“Playing checkers at the Fleetwood Diner is tradition in these parts. At least, in my family it is.” You countered, jumping one of his pieces and trying not to gloat as you snatched it off the board. “Your turn.”

“Well, if it’s a tradition in the Y/L/N family then I’m happy to partake.” he shrugged, and gulped down more coffee out of the stout, thick handled cup. “Is it just me, or does coffee taste better when it’s served in this kind of mug?”

You grinned and looked over your shoulder to see where your waitress was. “Not just you - I love diner mugs. In fact, a couple of Fleetwood ones may have mysteriously made their way into my kitchen cabinet.”

“A federal agent, admitting to thievery!” Spencer laughed. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your body at the sound of his laughter and the way his wide grin made his eyes crinkle.  You hadn’t heard that laugh in several days, maybe even a week? Despite the busy workload in the intelligence department of the FBI, you’d taken off for South Carolina as soon as your sister had called asking for your help. The BAU had come down a couple of days later after you’d phoned JJ, the panic and emotion in your voice convincing her to bring the team to your hometown to help. The fact that everything had worked out… well, the fact that you were even able to smile was truly something to be thankful for. 

Your sister’s 6 year old son James had gone missing from the University day-care that he attended after his half day of kindergarten. It turned out that one of her former students, now going by a new name, had targeted her. He was jaded since she’d turned him down shortly before her wedding 7 years ago and coveted the life she’d built. After 3 days of dedicated work on the geographical profile, James was found in an abandoned warehouse. He had been unharmed but was very dehydrated. The UnSub was located a few hours later as he was en route to the University, where he would have… well, done something terrible to your sister. 

“I owe you one,” you smiled back, moving another piece. “And not just for keeping my diner mug secret. There’s no way I could have handled this one out without you and your team. It means the world- thank you.” 

“Oh, I’m sure…” he started to brush off the commend, looking a tad sheepish before you cut him off with a look and placed your hand on top of his, squeezing gently. He gulped. “You’re welcome.”

You withdrew your hand awkwardly, hoping to whatever higher power there was that your cheeks weren’t changing colors. The two of you continued moving your checkers pieces, and you downed the last sip of your coffee before reaching for the pot the waitress had left on the table. 

“The only flaw of these mugs… they aren’t nearly large enough.” You joked, trying to lighten the mood. 

The corners of Spencer’s mouth turned up slightly. “I was debating doing some research through the biomedical engineering program at Johns Hopkins… There has to be a way to inject coffee straight into the bloodstream.”

“Might even earn yourself another PhD, smarty pants.” you played along, teasing him. You loved the way he lit up at the banter as you went back and forth.

“One can never have too many PhDs.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“No PhDs, and yet you’re winning at checkers.”

“Are you letting me?”

“No. Do you want me to?”

“No!” You gasped. “I like to win fair and square.”

“Oh, that’s too bad…” He smirked, and double jumped your pieces. “I might just have to make a comeback.”

“You son of a…” 

“Pancakes!” chimed your waitress, swooping them down to your table. They looked perfect, as always, and your mouth watered. You knew they would taste even better. “And the blueberry, with extra crispy bacon. Syrup is on the table, anything else I can get you?”

“More coffee?” You and Spencer said in unison, looking at each other in embarrassment when you realized it had happened. 

“That would be amazing, thank you.” You told the waitress as she took the empty pot from your table and said she’d be back momentarily.

You ate in silence for a few minutes - both due to the delicious food and also to take in what you were feeling. Of course, you felt relieved that your family was healthy and safe. Genuinely thankful for the smarts and skills of the BAU, especially those of the man across from you. You also felt… nervous? Oh dear, were those butterflies? 

Of course, you knew Spencer prior to his arrival in Charleston to help with the case. You both worked at the Bureau and everyone knew the BAU team. You’d been with Spencer at a couple of functions (not together, just… there at the same time), and had gotten to know a few other members of the team over the years. Your department frequently passed cases their way, so you worked with JJ and Penelope most often. You’d always found Spencer handsome, but figured he was either already seeing someone, well out of your league or just… not interested. 

But now, after spending the last several days in close quarters and under emotional stress, you felt that something had changed. The entire team was great, but Spencer in particular had been sweet, supportive and focused on helping you and your family. And when your nephew had finally been found, he'd been the one to talk to him, probing for details that would help in the UnSub’s capture. He'd pulled a magic trick to make James laugh, and you could immediately see how much he loved kids. Something about that combined with the extra time together… well, now that you weren't so anxious about your family, your attraction to him was ramping up into a desire for more than just the casual acquaintance you had before. 

But did he feel the same? 

The coffee arrived and you finished your last piece of bacon. 

"So, uh.." Spencer started, fiddling with a sugar packet. "What time is our flight?" 

"10:30.” you replied, sipping your coffee. It was just after 7:00. “So we should probably be there around 8:45 or so and it takes 45 minutes to get there…we can grab our checks if you want to leave a little extra time to grab our luggage from the hotel.”

“Okay, yeah. That would be good.” He flagged down the waitress quietly. “Can I get the check? Thank you so much.”

She handed over the seafoam green order slip, to which was paper clipped a crisp white receipt. He scanned the total briefly and handed it back with his card tucked inside faster than you could even move to pull out your wallet. You pulled it out anyway, feeling a bit flustered. 

“What do I owe ya, Doc?” you joked, flipping through the cash in your wallet. 

“Don’t worry about it,” he responded, the pitch of his voice rising ever so slightly. “My treat, Y.N. Besides, isn’t it normal for a gentleman to… well, not that this is a… um, never mind.” He looked back to your now-forgotten checkers board, his lips narrowed together in concentration. 

You grinned, hoping that you had heard him right. “I love a breakfast date. Even better than a coffee date, really.”

His tongue brushed over his lower lip and he looked back up at you before responding. 

“What about dinner and… well, it’s not a movie, but I happen to have an extra ticket to a poetry reading on Thursday if you’d like to join me and…”

“I’d love to.” You smiled at him, feeling absolutely giddy at the prospect of a romantic date later in the week.“We can figure it out while we wait at the airport.”

His whole face lit up, and he followed you out of the restaurant. A couple of hours later, your head would come to rest on his shoulder while you napped on the flight home, and Spencer would feel very pleased indeed that he’d switched straws with Morgan to get this extra time with you

[iamtheempress]

Cold Blooded

A Dragon Ball Horror Fic {Part 8}

☆☆☆

The Gravity Chamber, at 500 times gravity was nothing compared to how heavy the princes heart felt. Whether he wanted to admit it or not he hurt Carlie and the fact she was UNDERSTANDING- other then alive- is nothing short of a miracle.. shes still his fiance, his mate. Vegeta was getting sloppy and keeping his mind occupied was proving to be a bigger challenge in and of itself.

"Why dont you go apologize to her already?" Bulma's voice cut through the gravity chambers speakers. Vegeta pounded his fist straight through a bot and looked to the screen on the wall. Hes quiet. "Vegeta, your so fucking dense.. shes going through trauma too. All she wants is to be comforted and if you can collect yourself and man up and speak to your *fiance* maybe you two will be stronger then ever.. just get your ass outside and see her." "Where." The prince piped up and turned off the chamber that was encased in red light. "Balcony from my room shes checking out the scenery with her new vision" she winks and turns off the display. "New vision..?" He furrows a brow and rushes out of the chamber.

He made his way to the other end of the building paying no mind to doctors and physicians who stood around scratching their heads. It seems like confusion was becoming more infectious in the walls of capsule corp then people were comfortable with..

He saw her.

Standing on the balcony with the robe that was leant to her from Bulma, he took a deep breath and made his way to the door. The wind fluttering curtains out of the building.

"Woman." He piped up, clenching his shaking fists. 

Carlie turned eyes wide and tilted her head. Shes not wearing glasses. Its a new sight for the prince and certainly for her. She was so interested in seeing him she had a look of childlike wonder. 

"Hey Vegeta, i was just about to come look for you, wanted to show you this." She pointed to her face, she was focused on him for the first time without glasses and Carlie simply loved it.. she welcomed him on the balcony and they stood side by side, Vegeta kept his place and stared at her gathering his thoughts and how to say it. 

"Carlie. You know i didn't mean to do what i did… in any way shape or form id never lay a hand on you maliciously.. what I'm saying is that-'' she cut him off with a finger to his lips silencing the bumbling prince.

"My prince doesn't stutter over his words. That tells me your sorry and that's all i need." He sighed in relief and held her arms staring into her eyes. "No more glasses i assume?" He pushes bleached blonde locks out of her face to view her new look closer. "Nope! I have 20/20 vision now! The serum perfected it completely.. should be permanent. Like it?" 

Vegeta tilted his face and hummed out a chuckle "Never mattered to me woman" he encircled his arms around her back and pulled her into a passionate hard kiss, nothing about Vegeta was soft or sweet. Let alone kissing or a rare apology. She welcomed it with a smile and running her fingers into his hair and deepening it. They were interupted by the sound of Bulma's voice. "No sex on my bed please you two." She casually asked of them making Vegeta smirk down at his woman beaming with relief. "No promises." Carlie held him close and looked at the blue haired engineer. "So i take it you both made up? Wedding still on?" "Plan never changed if im not mistaken" Vegeta grumbled and leaned back against the railing. "Good. I have food ready for everyone, Carlie go get dressed and meet us out there." She requested disrobing from the white lab coat. "Heard that. Im guessing hes not joining us again." She gulped, referring to Frieza. "No he had his fill already. Gets his food sent to his room." Bulma always had a way of making people comfortable in any bullshit situation. "Alright ill meet yall out there."

Carlie dressed in the little black dress she had as a backup in Bulmas closet. Simple and easy to slip on. Along with blue slides on so she wasn't barefoot going to the balcony. Upon closing the door she was met with the quiet halls of capsule corp she adjusted the dress and made her way down the hall only to be stopped by a familiar sight.

"Carlie!" Goku chirped coming from the direction of the lab. "Hey Goku! Long time no see. How you been?"

"Oh y’know all well and good, Vegeta told me that the serum was done so i stopped by and went into the lab to get the edible versions. Hope that’s no trouble!" He rubbed the back of his neck with a grin.

She laughed and walked in tandem with the larger saiyan to the balcony. "No no problem there. I should really come up with a name for it instead of calling it 'serum'." Goku made a thoughtful noise and tilted his head.

"Pick Me Up?" He said quite instantly. As if he already had a name for it. "Goku where the hell did you hear a phrase like that?" "Huh? Im not sure, really. Somethin i used to say with senzu beans or when I'm in a hospital bed, and believe me everyone needs a good Pick Me Up" Carlie snorted, Goku was that weird comic relief she needed in her life, some things are just too serious and then there was Goku to remind people there’s worse thing out there to be worried about then that on earth, the both of them stopped at the doorway from the balcony.

"It was strange actually, Frieza let me in the lab when i got there." Carlie raised a brow. "Really? Weird." She goes to the balcony with Goku who sees the smorgasbord of food. "Got room for one more?" "Yes Goku, we got more" Bulma says being served and points to Goku. The wait staff nods and goes back to fetch more food for the Saiyan with the biggest appetite and Carlie, who took her place beside the prince.

Something still sat heavy on her mind..

Why was Frieza in her lab?

Beneath the foundation of the corporation was Carlie’s Lab, and within that lab lay her best creation now being manufactured ten fold from enterprises, and Frieza was witnessing the young scientists' empire rise slowly. The former emperor strode around the lab and to a display with Frieza’s name scrawled across the drawn on screen. He smiled at the little things, whether it be penmanship or be it her dainty way she wrote in general there was something about her that Frieza enjoyed. Maybe it was her interest in him, maybe it was her kindness where others found reasons to hate him.

He didnt hate it. He felt the need to keep it to himself, to let it fester for his own amusement. He dipped his head forward and looked to a bag sitting erect on the floor.

Marked with the letter F. He tilted his head and picked it up, curious, he pulled out a large bottle of Merlot. “Hmm… Precious little thing remembered” He was caught off guard by the sound of someone opening the door to the lowermost part just before the labs door, he twitched upon hearing an unfamiliar voice.

He slid the wine back into the bag and placed it back to where he found it. Gliding with grace and absolute silence to the wall besides the door to listen. “Have you seen Norman anywhere?” A deep voice questioned, an older human physician.

“Havent since he sent another nude of Carlie..” “A real dime piece she is.. Too bad she still is with that weird alien.” “Ah come off it.. We have our Stache and she is none the wiser.”

Friezas fists clenched tight behind his back as he leaned against the wall, and a small knowing smile spread across his tightly lined black lips. Easy prey. He thought.

“So why are we down here, Nick?” the fat short one asked as the other fumbled with pills and some strange vial. “Easy, Bruce… were sabotaging her coffee so she can fall asleep faster, and were going to get that coding for that stimulant. Dumb bitch wouldnt know what hit her.” The door clicked open and In walked the Physicians, unbeknownst to them there untimely end would be at the hands of frieza.

At breakneck speed, Frieza apprehended both of them one by the neck with his tail and the other with his hand outstretched gripping the fat short ones neck, tight enough to hear a loud crunch before he could cry out for help.

“Tsk tsk tsk… you meddlesome little vermin were going to harm, Carlie” He lifted the one who was devising the plan into the air and tightened the appendage around his throat tighter, his fat friend gurgling almost unconscious on his own blood. His eyes flicked to the room in the back marked incinerator. Friezas devilish smile and bright vermillion eyes flickered from one physician to the other. “I do believe a swift punishment for disgusting little creatures like you are in order., wouldn't you agree, Bruce?” He walked forward with one hand anchored to his back as the door opened to him as if by will, the one being suspended in mid air was kicking and gasping, while the other was being dragged by his bottom jaw.

“This is a crude little disposal unit but it will do for now, besides trash belongs in the trash.” He tossed the fat one into the disposal pit with enough force to crack his head against the wall, the impact making a loud crunch; he gasped and twitched, spitting up blood on the ground, covered in charred remains of glass and waste.

Frieza brought the human to eye level with him and tilted his head as he stared in the face of sweet delicious fear, decadent tears and the succulent sight of sweat and blood shot eyes of the strangled doctor. 

“Those pictures better be worth your utter demise. Too bad you wont be able to touch a woman as beautiful as her,” He took hold of his arms and with minimal effort popped both of his arms off his person like a doll, the dismembered doctor went wide eyed and cried before being flung head first into the same spot his partner hit.

“Now you wont have anything to touch her with….” He grinned laying the arms one over the other in the pit before clicking the incinerator activation button, sealing the two still living doctors away in a hard glass chamber door, and licks of fire erupting from the floor like hell reaching up to grab at them both. Frieza leaned against the wall marveling at the two doctors flop around like fish out of water… screaming silently for a help that will never arrive. Only to see their executioner behind the glass window beyond walls of rising fire, like the Devil himself.

“You will thank me, Carlie.” He assured sauntering from the room only to be met with a tiny floor cleaning robot that mopped up the floor of all the blood that soaked the linoleum floor. The perfect murder, and the best little cleanup crew and no one was any the wiser.

The emperor looked over at the bottle of wine left out for him then back to the screen with all the information of his physical genetic makeup, hes thoroughly impressed and with a swipe of his hand the coding goes over to the Saiyan genetic makeup with the green wording beneath it.

Perfected.

Frieza narrows his brows and hums. A tab opens with all the reasons why it is perfected. Most of these reasons are beneficial and to aid civilization as a whole. Both alien and human alike, and shes only put forth the battle stimulant. “This benevolent little woman is more creative then I expected.. Ohoho.. Your only peaking my interest further and further Carlie.”

He goes back to his own investigation and feels like hes seen enough. He’ll inspect his findings later, but for now he is in wait. The incinerator dings indicating its disposal has ended. Frieza grins maliciously. “Too bad that was much faster than anticipated…”

☆☆☆

Authors note: Thanks for waiting, works been crazy and havent had time to really get this done fast enough.

Taglist: @gallickingun​ @gonuclear​ @dragonblobz @dragonballcollector @lilfriezatyrant @mommaofthesayianguild @lizardhipsdontlie @supremeleadershitlord @thotful-writing @trans-asshole @memevember