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wildflowerhigh · 5 years

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Second Time Around (c.h.) | Part 4

Summary: Sure, Harper is just a friend to Calum, right?

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: Sorry I posted late! I finished writing this ages ago, I just forgot that yesterday was Friday and forgot to post. I’m just extremely stupid lol hope y’all like this one!

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“Do any of you wanna come with me to the café?” Ashton asked, looking around the room. Calum’s hand shot up from his position on the couch, and he pulled himself up, after setting his acoustic guitar down. He had been stuck in the studio the whole night finishing up a song, and he really needed to get out.

Ashton and him walked into the café, just like they had five months ago when they had run into Harper; Calum mused about how much had happened since then. He certainly wasn’t expecting to see Harper once again, sitting at the exact same table, in an almost deja-vu like moment. She waved at them with a smile on her face, her phone in her other hand.

Calum stopped dead in his tracks, while Ashton waved back at her. “What is she doing here?”

“Oh, we meet here almost everyday. She’s normally here at the same time to eat breakfast,” Ashton replied.

Calum stood there, taken aback. Michael’s berating had left him with a lot to think about, but as of now she was just a friend. He finally waved at her, after way too long a pause, and walked over to join her.

“Good morning!” she said cheerfully, and Calum greeted her as well, taking the seat opposite her. Ashton was placing the coffee order at the counter. “How’s the album coming along?”

“Pretty good actually,” he said, voice rough from lack of sleep. She seemed to notice, and frowned slightly, but before she could ask, Ashton joined them, steering the conversation in a different direction.

The three friends sat there for quite a while, chatting away about their previous day, Calum occasionally leaning over to eat out of Harper’s breakfast, before she informed them that she had to get to work, and left. He and Ashton went back to the studio, a smile stretched across his face.

The next day, Calum jumped to his feet as soon as Ashton entered the studio. “Are you going to the café?”

“Yeah, I am.” Ashton set down his phone and started to remove his jacket. He waved at the producer sitting at the controls. “Just as soon as I finish recording a bit.” Calum looked down anxiously at his watch- it was close to the same time as yesterday, when they had gone to the café.

“Let’s go now,” he said, moving to stop Ashton as he walked to the recording booth. Ashton looked at him, puzzled.

“Why are you so desperate to go? You normally never come.”

Calum paused, his mind running a mile a minute. “I just… really want some coffee right now.”

Ashton’s eyes narrowed suspiciously at his friend, but agreed. They told the producer, who had watched the whole interaction with amusement, that they would be back in some time, and left for the café.

The minute they entered the small roadside café, Calum’s eyes scanned for Harper, and spotted her at the same table, digging into a plate of pancakes in front of her.

“Get me a vanilla latte, will you?” he muttered to Ashton, tapping him lightly on the shoulder. Harper looked up from her breakfast and waved at the two boys, and Calum grinned and went to join her, leaving Ashton to place the order.

“Could have at least paid for it,” Ashton grumbled, noticing how the two old friends talked, mesmerized with each other.

And just like that, going to the café became a daily routine. Calum said that he needed his ‘daily dose of coffee’, but most of the days never bought anything, unless Ashton got something for him.

On one of those days, when they were walking towards the café, both their phones pinged simultaneously- Harper had messaged them, informing them she couldn’t make it that day because of a meeting. Calum just stood there, scratching his head, confused about what to do next.

“We could still go get coffee, I mean, that’s what you came for everyday, right?” Ashton mocked.

Calum noticed his tone, and pushed past him, rolling his eyes. “Asshole,” he muttered, making Ashton laugh. They walked the rest of the distance to the café, and ordered their respective drinks. Calum looked back wistfully at the table where Harper might have been sitting if she had come that day.

He definitely wasn’t gonna admit to Ashton (or to himself) that the real reason he came to the café everyday was for Harper. But the intense disappointment that came over him told him that he couldn’t live in denial for much longer.

---

Calum fixed his blonde hair and pulled on his leather jacket, just as he heard the doorbell ring. He opened the door to a grinning Harper, Ashton and Kaykay.

“We’re going bowling!” Harper declared, and Ashton hooted. She sang the same phrase repeatedly, with continuous whoops from the redhead, and the two danced around each other.

“They’ve been doing this the whole time,” Kaykay said, and Calum chuckled. He grabbed his phone and keys, and stepped out and locked the door. Harper and Ashton’s little singsong and dance finally came to an end.

“Where are the others?” Calum asked.

“They’re coming there directly,” Ashton replied. They all walked down to Ashton’s car, and made their way to the mall.

The bowling plan had been made after Sierra had randomly mentioned to Luke that she had never actually been bowling before, and everyone came to the same conclusion that she had to be introduced to the game once and for all. They also figured that it would be nice to all go out together after so long, and so planned an outing to the mall.

“How good is your bowling?” Calum asked Harper, as they stood next to each other, putting on their bowling shoes.

“Best of the best, baby,” she said, smirking, and Calum’s heart beat a little faster.

“There’s no way you’re better than me,” he challenged, and her smirk grew bigger.

“You’re on, Hood.”

The group occupied two alleys due to their size, and Harper and Calum dominated their respective alleys, having the highest scores.

“This is so much fun, guys, I’m so glad we came today,” Sierra commented, and the group murmured in agreement. But Calum was only focused on Harper- well, on beating Harper. Sports always brought out his competitive side, a characteristic leftover from his footballing days.

“Let’s up the stakes, Calum,” Harper said, apparently also not responding to Sierra’s statement.

“Ooohhh,” Luke said. “Wait, what’s happening?”

“I think they’re having a face-off,” Michael stated.

“Damn right we are!” Calum exclaimed, slamming the bench dramatically and coming to his feet. When he was at the peak of his game, he fed off the attention. “What do you suggest?”

“Ten frames each. Highest score wins. Loser buys everyone ice cream.”

“That’s not exactly high stakes, is it?” Ashton remarked.

“I’m not bringing money into this, Ash,” Harper replied, glaring at him.

“Well, technically-”

“ICE CREAM!” She shook her hand threateningly at Ashton, and he raised his hand in surrender, stifling a laugh. She turned her attention back to Calum, who was tapping his fingers against the bowling ball he had picked up. Why he had an adrenaline rush from a simple game like bowling, he couldn’t understand. Could it be because he was playing against Harper? “Take it or leave it, Calum,” she continued.

“Taking it. Let’s do this.” He smirked, and grabbed a bowling ball.

The next half hour was intense. The others saw by and watched as the two competitors played, both of them getting strikes in a row. “Not bad, Romano,” he commented, when she was gearing up to play her ninth frame, and she flipped him off, making everyone laugh. Seeing the look of concentration on her face, with her eyes squinting at the pins, biting subtly into her lip, Calum could barely resist the smile that threatened to break onto his face; she looked adorable.

She expertly bowled another strike, turning around and bowing as the pins clattered behind her. Everyone cheered, and Calum stood up for his turn. Passing her as he moved to take her position, she wiggled her eyebrows at him, and smiled the smile that made his insides get all jumbled up. He felt like he was floating on air when he stepped up to bowl- and consequently, knocked down only three pins.

His friends gasped at his play, including Harper, who looked at him in shock. Still fazed by his mistake, Calum played again, still managing to knock down only four pins. He sat down, still confused by what had happened. He never got distracted like this. Harper glanced at him warily, but scored another strike, getting her the highest possible score.

By the time his last turn came around, Calum had cleared his head, and bowled a strike; but it was too late, because he was already behind on points. Harper had won.

---

Calum paid for the ice cream, and thanked the server, before grabbing his cup off the counter. Surprisingly but thankfully, they hadn’t run into any fans at the bowling alley or the ice cream shop, so the whole group ate their ice cream, loud and content. Harper slid up behind him and tapped on his shoulder, and he turned around to face her.

“Good game, that was,” she said, and he nodded. He opened his mouth to speak, but she continued speaking. “I know you let me win.”

“What?”

“You were playing so well, then you fuck up in the last round and lose? No way. Don’t know what weird male ego thing this is, but-” She pulled out a 20 dollar bill and handed it to him. “Here. For the ice cream.”

“Well, first of all, have a little more faith in your skills,” he said, taking a lick of his pistachio ice cream. “Second of all, I got distracted, that’s why I lost.” He pushed away her hand holding the bill. “You won fair and square.”

She scanned his face dubiously, before pocketing the money. “What did you get distracted by?” she questioned.

“Just… something.” He shook his head, and spooned out a little of her chocolate ice cream. “Yours tastes so much better, ugh.”

She laughed, her eyes shining bright at him, and Calum got the same feeling at the pit of his stomach as he had at the alley. Nothing to get distracted from this time, though.

---

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teaspoin · 5 years

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What You Have is Faith (1/?)

a/n: The beginning of a new mini series! I actually edited this twice (go me! I hate editing so I don’t really do it!) and let me tell you, I actually feel better about my writing now. Who knew? This has been beta read by my dear friend, Alex. Thanks Alex!

A simple vampire hunt could never change your life, right?

Pairing: none... yet

Word Count: 1580

It was a delicate task- get in, take out the 6 vampires yourself while not dying or being turned in the process. Something about hunting vamps always made your adrenaline pump. Maybe it was because they were your first hunt at 17, or maybe it was something else. To you, hunting was all about taking the power away from creatures who used their ability to hurt humans.

You tiptoed into the abandoned house, your katana gripped tightly in your hands. Most hunters preferred having a machete to take out vampires, but you found yourself more effective with distance between you and your prey. The vampires had found themselves a good house to hold up in. Based on the chipped paint and rotting floorboards, it was probably built in the late 1800’s or early 1900’s, making it a fairly creaky place. This allowed your targets to detect anyone entering the property just by noise. It made your job harder, but it caused you to feel more determined.

You stood by the front door, your katana held by your side with a tight grip. In front of you, there was a hallway to the left and a staircase to the right. The hallway led into the kitchen, which connected with the rest of the rooms that were to your left. There was a living room and a dining room, as well as a bathroom connected off the kitchen.

Even though you heard the vampires conversing, that wouldn’t stop you. You entered the room closest to you- the living room. There were 2 of the creatures sitting across from each other, playing a game of chess as a dead body laid on the floor. In one swift motion, you detached both their heads from their body with your sword, and their heads fell to the ground. The thump alerted the rest of the nest, as two more vampires made their way into the living room.

The adrenaline was coursing through your veins as muscle memory kicked in. Without hesitation, you ran towards the one vamp who was standing in the doorway between the living room and entryway. You removed his head before running to the other, repeating the same action on her. You heard two more vamps trot down the stairs. You quickly moved to stand by the doorway where you had just killed one of the creatures. You pressed your back against the wall and waited for the others to arrive. Once they were standing above the dead body, you jumped out from behind the wall and removed their heads in one motion with your sword.

Their heads rolled on the ground like bowling balls, blood trickling on the floor as they moved. You searched the rest of the house carefully, as you had to make sure it was clear before you left. As you exited the house, you heard an engine roar from the driveway. You had researched the nest thoroughly, and you were sure there was only 6 in the group.

You had been tracking the nest since it first appeared in northern Washington. The nest was originally compiled of 15 vampires, but they split up after a fight about who deserved to lead the nest. Other hunters were tracking the larger group, but you decided to track the smaller group that had the newborns in it.

The car that you heard approached the house and parked a sleek black 67’ Impala. You were envious, your 2010 Prius had nothing on that- besides the gas mileage.

The two men exited the car and grabbed some bags from the trunk. You snuck back inside and tiptoed to the kitchen. You pressed your back against the wall right next to the doorway, then waited.

“You check downstairs, I’ll check up,” said one of the men when they entered the house, his voice gruff. As the footsteps got closer to the kitchen, you gripped your sword tight. The tall man walked into the kitchen with a machete in his hand. You jumped out and kicked the blade from his hand, then pressed him against the wall with your sword pointed to his neck.

“Who are you?” you whispered.

“Same as you, I’m assuming,” he struggled. You squinted at him, but he did have the hunter appearance.

“Prove it.”

He reached for the collar of his shirt and pulled it towards his shoulder, exposing an anti-possession tattoo on his pec. You lowered your sword to your side and let go of the man.

“Precautions,” you shrugged, then walked back into the entryway, the taller man following you.

“It’s clear!” you heard a different man yell from upstairs. He retreated downstairs shortly after, and saw you and the other man standing next to each other.

“Who are you?” he said, raising a gun up at you.

“Obviously one of you so put that damn gun down,” you snapped.

He put the gun down, then looked in the living room, seeing the 3 dead bodies lying on the ground. The man who searched the downstairs wasn’t as shocked, as he had already seen the mess you made.

“Wow,” the man from upstairs said. He was very attractive. He had shorter hair that was longer than the other guys,and it was a beautiful dark blonde or light brown color. His eyes were like an emerald, and the beauty in his face was completed with a slight trace of freckles and short stubble.

“Impressed?” you giggled at him.

“Pshh, no,” he defended. He was definitely impressed, even if he wouldn’t admit it. “I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam.”

You looked up to him with wide eyes. “The Winchester brothers, huh? Not everyday you get to meet a celebrity.”

“You know of us?” Sam questioned. You didn’t know this at the time, but Sam thought of every single bad thing he had done since hunting with his brother again. He thought of the demon blood and Lucifer, then of his soulless journey and leviathans, and more. You could see the dread and regret in his eyes, so you didn’t want to make things worse. You were a hunter, but you still knew how to read social cues, something many hunters didn’t know how to do.

“You boys are quite the treat,” you smirked, then started to pile up the dead bodies. “I’m Y/N.”

“Alright, Y/N, what are we doing?” Dean asked, helping you.

“We gotta burn them, and I’m sure as hell not dragging 6 bodies and carrying 6 heads out to the fireplace. The house will just have to do,” you chirped up.

Once you finished with lugging around dead bodies, you went to your car to grab a gas can from the back, but Dean followed you. You unlocked your car and grabbed the can, as Dean stood just inches from you.

“Something you want, hot stuff?” you flirted as you turned to face him.

Dean was taken aback by your comment. No one had been this up front about flirting with him before, but if he was being honest, it was a nice change. “You want to get dinner after this? Not a lot of time to talk after we burn them, so figured we should talk now.”

“Depends,” you said, setting the gas can down onto the ground. “Is it a date?”

“Do you want it to be a date?” Even though it was dark out, you could still see the smirk spread across his face.

“No,” you replied, then picked up the gas can. “Where are we meeting?”

“Diner about 4 miles from here on the main road?” he questioned.

“Alright, I will see you both there,” you wiggled your eyebrows at him, then walked back to the house. Once you were in the living room, you poured gasoline over the mass grave of vampires. When you were satisfied, you lit the match and threw it onto the pile. The three of you walked out of the burning house and headed towards your car. Both cars peeled out of the mile long driveway, and made your way towards the diner.

After you arrived, you parked your car and wiped the dried blood off your face with some baby wipes. Sam knocked at your car window and you flicked him off, then rolled it down.

“You know, Sam, some of us actually did work tonight and can’t go into a public place with blood all over,” you scolded and he held his arms up in surrender. You heard Dean laugh from the drivers side of the car.

“We’ll meet you in,” he replied, then walked away. You finished cleaning yourself off and threw on a leather jacket over your flannel, hiding your blood stained shirt. You reached into the backseat and pulled out a pair of white converse you replace your brown utility boots. You looked into the rearview mirror and noticed something was missing. You decided to pop on a layer of mascara when something caught your eye.

There was a squad car parked on the street, with its lights flashing. You observed closely and saw that a police officer was walking both Sam and Dean out in handcuffs, then stuffed them in the back of the car.

“Those suckers,” you laughed to yourself. You knew they were probably caught for the fire, but you still wanted to get to know them. You decided you would let them sit for the night, then pick them up in the morning.

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scripted-dalliances · 5 years

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Rest in Peace: Chapter Fourteen

Title: Rest In Peace

Chapter: 14

Summary: A part of Faithless Fairy Tale, a more in depth look at how they brought Laura back to life. Appearance of old faces, creation of new ones and if you’re looking for canon, it left a long, long time ago. If you squint you might be able to see some pieces from the book.

“As the Bacchae knew, we always tear our Gods to bits, and eat the bits we like.” -Adam Gopnik

Laura would spit fire if she could.

“How,” It's not even a question, she's too mad for it to be anything but a wanton demand of a child. “Please tell me where the fuck are the directions on that, cause so far, no one seems to know and google isn't bringing anything up.”

For her credit, Isis doesn't look offended as she should at Laura's indignant rage. Instead she leans back and seemingly thinks long and hard about her next words as Laura moves to pace the room.

“You have already started the process.” Isis points out, “When I touched you, that was just a bit of light that was already in you. Not a lot, admittedly but it was there. Whatever you've been doing to foster that, I suggest keep doing it.”

Laura cuts a look at Sweeney. He looks ready to throw himself out the nearest window. She almost wants him to try so she could have a reason to throttle him.

“And If I said whatever that was...was dangerous?” Laura starts and Sweeney stills.

Isis raises a brow, “I would question if your life wasn't worth it.”

Fuck.

Laura sits down. This time, nearer to the leprechaun than the goddess. After a long, silent moment, she ends up elbowing Sweeney in the side. Forcing him to squawk and swear like a too tall chicken who just had their feathers pulled out.

“Fuck you, Dead Girl!”

“Tell her!”

“I repeat, Fuck you!”

Laura’s features twist in anger and so she twists his flesh between her fingers.

“FUCK!”

“Tell her or I will personally make you the first man in the world to be sent to the emergency room for a purple nurple!”

“Fine!” Mad Sweeney huffs, obviously knowing she wasn't kidding. He takes a deep breath, nervously pats his thighs and then sadly attempts to pretend this isn't a big deal. Fooling absolutely no one. “I...that is to say...We entered a sort of deal with the other, yea?”

“Well, that doesn't sound shady as fuck.” Laura whispers sarcastically mainly to herself, before addressing Isis. “I figured if I gave him a boost belief, it would in a round about way make the coin stronger. In turn making me last a little longer in the world until he could find someone to bring me back. Payment would be that I would be a full time lucky charms pusher. Spread the word, write a book or a blog. New faith without the new gods.”

“Except, the words you used were, If you believe in me, I'll believe in you.”

Isis makes a small noise of smothered laughter. “Oh.”

“Oh what?” Laura needles, but Isis isn't looking at her. She's looking over to Mad Sweeney who has all but curled up on himself. Crossing his arms across his chest and slouching so far down that his stupidly long legs hit the edge of the end table before them.

The longer Isis stares, the more fidgety Sweeney gets.

Laura begins to get nervous. “He said it connected us. Two sides of the same coin, believer and belief.”

“He isn't wrong, but that's when he assumed that coin was his magic and his magic alone. He wouldn't have any idea that it was any other way would he? That it was your power awakening, transferring and building on his luck. Only that it isn't just luck and…let me guess, that the bond is already proving to be stronger than anticipated?” Isis questions sweetly at the leprechaun and Mad Sweeney’s shoulders twitch and then like lightning the answer becomes clear to her and only her, “Ohhhh.”

“I wish you'd stop making that damned noise.” Sweeney bitches, shoulders practically past his ears.

Isis ignores him and gives Laura her attention, “It's a dangerous thing, bringing back the dead. Involves a lot of...work, not just faith.” She says the word with an implied tone of importance. “Power a part of it, will another. Just like a body is made up of a complicated set of inter-working organs, the spirit is much of the same. I am not as strong as I used to be, I can not fill and replace all the parts you have lost and need, Laura. Not by myself, the only person who can is you. Still,” Isis gives her a blinding smile.“ I can help, if you'd like. You just have to trust me a little.”

Laura does not trust that smile, but she finds herself nodding.

“It will cost you.” Isis says after Laura agrees to give whatever the Goddess has in mind a try. They are moving on from above the casino. Now on their way into the belly of the building, under the hard earth to places she never knew existed when she worked here. It's not a maze, but it's long winding tunnels of hallways do not make it easy to traverse unless you know where you are going. So Mad Sweeney and Laura stick close to the small woman.

“I'm willing to pay whatever you want.” Laura bluntly admits, and Sweeney glares down at her.

Those are pretty dumb words to promise around gods, after all.

“It is not me you'll be paying.” Isis points out, just a tad gleeful. “I think you still work under the impression that things happen without a reason.”

Laura crosses her arms, “Sometimes things do.”

“No, not every single thing comes about due to godly intervention. A lot of it is just the natural order and chaos of the world fighting for bites of the same bone but there is always a reason, be it kind or cruel. Bad or good, for life or death. There is, as your tall friend said, two sides of the coin when it comes to anything in this universe. And the universe needs a bit of order, just as much as it needs a bit of chaos to keep going after all, but if you are clever enough to know how both work, you can use it to give you what you want.”

“You have to play the game to get a chance to win.” Sweeney gruffly replies, as they turn a corner to another long stretch of hall way. No windows or doors, for what seems like miles. This far deep, it feels like they are taking a stroll right into hell. “My coin, is what has been helpin' her to win so far then?”

Isis nods, “Helping, but it isn't going to bring her back on it's own, there are limits. We need something bigger, and the universe will not give you life for nothing, it will want it's pound of flesh and if you aren't careful...it will take more than that.”

Laura frowns, feels like she is hearing the equivalent of fine print. “I don't mind paying, like I said. Whatever this stupid universe wants, that it hasn't already taken, it can have. Just as long as it isn't me on my hands and knees married to Jesus or something.”

Mad Sweeney snorts deliberately in Laura's direction, and she finds herself making a pinching motion towards him as a threat to keep him from speaking. Whatever stupid little comment he wants to make, he can keep buried.

“It's about balance.” Isis says in finality on the subject as their journey comes to an end, leading them into a large ballroom of white marble. It holds no decoration, no elaborate lighting but it's otherworldly in it's shadowed brightness. Isis allows them a moment to take it in, hands on hips as she looks up. There in the distance above them, is a glass ceiling, framing the moon. In the daylight, Laura imagines it is even more impressive.

Across the room, awaits a familiar face.

“Yo.” Laura greets the god of death. Anubis frowns at her lack of respect but gestures with his head a small nod of sorts.

“Laura Moon.”

“McCabe, actually. You and your brother's did top notch work but it still couldn't keep my marriage alive.”

For his credit, the god of death seems to acknowledge his misdoings. Managing to look both apologetic at her and then pointedly at Mad Sweeney, “Not every man can handle death easily.”

“Oi, don't be lookin' at me like that, death breath.” Sweeney snaps, irritated but it is mostly because of his new nervous state of being. This is dangerous game after all, with big bad gods of old, the kind even Odin was careful not to fuck with. “I ain't exactly been happy to deal with her, and her smell of rot up my nose.”

“Fuck you.” Laura squeezes in before Anubis also replies with a, “Yes, we will have to deal with that.” at the same time. Making Isis chuckle and sweep her way over to him. Slipping her hand in his, making Anubis tilts his attention back down to her.

Standing next to each other, they look nothing alike. Not like Horus did to her, but there is enough love in Anubis's gaze that it's not even a question that he does so like a son would a mother.

“We need to prepare her body, Nephthys is back and will assist you.” Isis says, and if he's offended by the demand, he doesn't show it. “Laura, if you would. Please follow Anubis. Mad Sweeney, come with me?” She gestures on wards to another seating area. This time far more lavish, in thick pillowed low couches and soft surfaces of every kind littered about. It looked like a set of a roman orgy, minus all the players.

For his worth, Mad Sweeney doesn't automatically sit down, first he glances at the dead girl and waits patiently. He hasn't forgotten her words from earlier, when he tried to obey Isis by leaving her. This time, Laura seems to have accepted their parted ways.

“Don't do anything to fuck this up for me, Ginger minge.”

“Make sure they remove all the maggots, Dead girl.”

Laura flips him the bird, and he watches her walk away.

#mad wife #Madwife #mad sweeney #mad sweeney x laura moon #laura moon #laura x sweeney #madwife fic

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not-todayhun · 6 years

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Piece of junk

Summary: Your car breaks down and none other than Billy Hargrove comes to your rescue. Pairing: Billy x Reader Word Count: 1,683 Author’s Note: So sorry for this literal trash to cross your timeline Warnings: Swearing

Driving through the countryside was the only thing that brought you solace. You’d make your way through the winding country roads while blasting whatever music brought you joy. Most days you’d only spend half an hour unwinding before you pulled back into your driveway, but today you found yourself exploring new roads. It wasn’t typical that you’d stray out of your usual path, but today you were feeling yourself. The music was good and the breeze blowing through your windows was even better. The old clunker that you called your own wasn’t trustworthy enough for this particular trip. Hell, it wasn’t trustworthy for many trips. The A/C had busted long before you bought it. Getting it running was a feet that your father never let you forget, but it was worth it. At least that’s what you thought.

Without A/C, you always needed to drive with your windows down. Your new route took you much deeper into the countryside than you would have imagined. The only thing ahead was roads, and each window gave you a perfect view of the rolling fields. Your hand clenched the clutch as you accelerated. You frowned as you felt the car lose power. Instead of rising, the odometer slowly fell. You cursed and brought the car to the side of the road. It wasn’t unusual for the car to stall out, you still hadn’t gotten the hang of driving stick, but this was different. The car simply wouldn’t run.

“Fuck,” you grumbled running a hand through your tangled hair.

The sweat from your forehead left your fingers sticky. You furiously ran through your options. There had been a farm five miles back, but even if you started walking now you wouldn’t reach it before sunset. You couldn’t even guarantee that it wasn’t abandoned. The road was straight on, so you were positive that walking forward wasn’t an option either. You were right fucked, and hoped that maybe someone would drive by. You pushed the gas one more time, the car inched forward before stopping once again. It was hopeless.

“What the hell.” The sound of your slamming door broke the silence. “Well good job Y/N, stranded in the middle of no where. Let’s hope the aliens take a day off.”

The sky was mystifying. You dozed off staring into the stars. Suddenly you were ripped from your peace when you heard a car speeding in the distance. Your entire body flew up as you ran waving to the road.

“Screw you asshole!” You shook your fist as the car just sped by you going well over 90. “This is just great.” You cursed walking back to your spot in the grass.

The silence was short lived as the black car sped back towards you and screeched to a halt. It seemed to take years for the window to roll down and reveal none other than Billy Hargrove.

“Well if it isn’t the Keg King himself.” You retorted into the Spring air.

“Y/N Y/L/N.” His lips curled into his signature smirk.

Silence followed as he slowly took a draw from his cigarette.

“What can I do for you?” He found much more humor in the situation than you did.

Oh how you wanted to reply sarcastically, but it was starting to get cold and you really had no other options. “I seem to have run out of gas.”

His door opened and closed as he made his way over to your vehicle. “Keys,” he demanded.

You squinted your eyes and slipped the keys into his hand. His blue eyes stared into your own, the smirk still playing on his lips. He closed his fingers engulfing your much smaller hand within his own. Rolling your eyes, you pulled your hand away. His charming bad boy persona may work on the vast majority of Hawkins residents, but it didn’t work on you. But as he slipped into the drivers seat of you car you couldn’t help but appreciate how damn attractive he was. He continued to puff on his cigarette as he toyed with the vehicle. Suddenly he was hovering over you, and breathing out smoke.

“I can give you a ride back to your house, I don’t think it’s worth it to get gas and bring it back tonight.” He spoke at almost a whisper.

You avoided his eyes and kicked a rock. “There’s a gas station about 10 miles back, if you drop me off I can just hitch a ride back to my car.”

“I’m not leaving you at a gas station princess.” Your heart swelled at his words. You willed yourself to not show it.

“Well my father’s out of town so I won’t be able to get back to my car until Tuesday.”

“You’re father is out of town for three days?” Billy’s voice was playful.

You rolled your eyes and ignored his comment.

“I can bring you back in the morning.” He responded.

“No really I don’t want to be any trouble, it’s fine if you just leave me at the gas station. It’s on your way back to town.” You stammered.

Billy turned on his heels and sat back into his Camaro. You stood there speechless. Was he just going to leave you out here?

“Are you getting in?” He stared into the distance and stomped out his cigarette.

Speechless, you made your way to the passenger side. Once in the car, you noticed his signature scent. The smell of cigarettes, cheap cologne, and well Billy. The scent engulfed your senses and you choked back a gag. You had never been one for cigarettes and the smell was almost overwhelming. Billy was unfazed as he made his way down the winding roads. The windows were down and that gave you a welcome release from the smell. His hand fiddled with the radio turning up the music.

Once you reached the main roads, you started to give him directions. He still didn’t speak, he didn’t even acknowledge your instructions. He followed them, but showed no response. Eventually, the car slowed and you thanked him.

You heard his door close and his footsteps follow as you walked to the door.

“I’m not going to suck your dick because you drove me home.” You spat.

He laughed, it was more like a bellow. “Oh princess who says I would want you to.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. It was supposed to be intimidating, but it only humored him more.

“I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow.” He laughed one more time before turning back towards his car.

You were left speechless as his car tore down your quiet neighborhood.

At exactly 8am there was a knock on your front door. The pounding didn’t cease until you threw it open. Billy leaned against the frame. His blue eyes looked you up and down as he bit his lip.

“Ready princess?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him into his car.

“Well someone isn’t a morning person.” Billy chuckled sliding behind you.

The trip to the gas station was relatively quick, but finding your car was not. Billy cursed as he stared over the steering wheel.

“God dammit it all looks the same.” He grumbled.

You pointed in his face, “There! Turn there!”

His car screeched through the turn. “Seriously.”

“Ok so now it should be like 15 miles up. I think.”

“You think?” He turned to look at you.

“Eyes on the road Hargrove.” You chuckled leaning back into the seat.

Billy smirked taking his right hand off the wheel and placing it onto your thigh. “But I like this view so much more.”

You rolled your eyes and pushed his head with your hand. “How did you like that view?”

“Oh I’d love to see your hands on my body.”

Your cheeks flushed. Trying to hide your embarrassment, you looked out of the window, but it was too late the damage was done and Billy had seen.

The next 20 minutes passed and only the radio filled the silence. You had been wrong about the 15 miles because you were reaching 20. Billy had faith that this was the road your car was on. There hadn’t been anywhere to turn, so there was no turning back now.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered over the radio.

Billy’s hand was still on your thigh, “For what princess?”

“This. I didn’t know it would take this long. If you need to be somewhere you can just bring me back and I’ll get my friend to bring me searching tomorrow.” The words flew out of your mouth, most likely due to your nervousness.

“It’s fine. I’m having a good time.” His eyes meet yours and he flashes that signature smirk. Except for this time it’s softer.

“Oh yea getting lost in the country is a great time!” You exclaimed.

Billy didn’t respond, he just chuckled and shook his head.

After turning around and circling back, the two of you managed to locate your car. It was nearly 1pm when your gas tank was finally filled. You leaned up against your door and smirked.

“Thank you Billy, I really don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“Don’t mention it.” He responded leaning over your open door.

“Is there anything I can do to thank you?” You tried your hardest to avoid looking at his lips, but the way they parted every time he laughed shook you.

Before you knew it, Billy had connected his lips with your own. The kiss was much softer than you imagined. It wasn’t rushed like you thought kissing Billy Hargrove would be. It definitely wasn’t how he kissed other girls at parties. His lips moved slowly with your own, it was almost as if he was savoring it in fear that when it was over it would never happen again.

When he finally pulled away, he was the first to speak. “How about you thank me by going to dinner with me tonight?”

#dacre montgomery #billy hargrove #billy #stranger things #billy x reader #dacre x reader #dacre imagine #billy imagine #st #imagine #stranger things imagine

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stilinski-stydia-obrien · 7 years

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Just My Luck - Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Okay so this is the first series I’ve ever written. I’ve written 2 parts so far and still working on the rest so please be patient. I hope you enjoy and if you do please like or leave a comment.

I’d also like to say thank you so much to @stilinski-jpeg for giving me faith that my writing is good and that I shouldn’t worry about people not reading it as long as I love the story it’s all worth it so thank you again!!

Also this part may be a little boring but I’m just trying to add a little back story. Hope you like :)

Y/N - your name Y/H/C - your hair colour I’ve chosen a name for your BF sorry if you don’t like the name but he’s an ass anyway ;) WARNINGS: bad language

You smiled as you put the last of your things into a box and sellotaped it shut. You were so happy and you couldn’t wait to start your life in New York. Alex had got a promotion and was being transferred and you were so happy he was getting places and following his dream. It also gave you the chance to start over and follow your dreams. You wanted to join the FBI but you kept putting it off as you didn’t know where Alex’s job would take him. You now knew that moving to New York would be permanent so you applied a few months before you were set to leave. You were still waiting for the letter to arrive as Alex came bounding through the bedroom door. “ Baby it’s here!! ” he yelled excitedly. Oh my God here goes. Here’s my future on this little piece of paper determining if I had got through to training. I sighed heavily as Alex gave me a smile. You tore the envelope open and looked at the piece of paper with wide eyes. “ I did it I got in” you barely whispered. “I FUCKING GOT IN!” you screamed jumping for joy. You jumped straight into Alex’s arms squealing. “ I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you Y/N” In that moment you had never felt happier everything was perfect. You were going to live in a perfect city with a perfect house a perfect fiancé and now the perfect job. Everything was going the way you wanted. “Babe I know you want to celebrate but we really need to get all this stuff into the van. We have a long drive but I promise we’ll celebrate when we get there.

———————————————————–

Time skip - Arriving in New York

You were finally here outside your new house. You took a little while to unload the boxes and move into your house and by the time you were finished you were exhausted. ” Babe it’s been a long day can we just go to bed and celebrate another night" you said defeated. “of course” Alex said as he kissed your hand and took you up to bed.

———————————————————–

It had been two weeks since you had moved to New York and Alex had been really busy with work already. Since you didn’t start training for another 3 weeks you had gotten to know the neighbours and had started to make friends. Your next door neighbour was a women the same age as you who worked three times a week at a local law firm. She told you great stories about some of the clients she had and you quickly became close friends. Alex told you that he would be working late one night at the office and that he wouldn’t be home for dinner so you invited Kate over for some wine and a chit chat. The two of you spoke for hours and had a good giggle not realising the time as Alex came through the door. “ Oh Y/N I thought you’d be in bed.” he looked at you sheepishly. “Sorry Alex, Kate came over for a chat and we just got carried away” you turned to look at the clock 22:30 “Holy shit is that half 10” you gasped. “ That’s what happens when you have fun. I’ll see you tomorrow Y/N” Kate got up and left as you walked up to Alex pulling him into a tight embrace. As you had had a few glasses of wine your senses were on over drive and you immediately smelt the perfume that lingered on Alexs shirt. “Let’s go to bed” he said as he pulled you upstairs without barely another word. You noticed that he hadn’t even looked at you at all. That night your brain had gone into over drive over thinking absolutely everything. You didn’t sleep and in the morning you looked like shit. Alex had already left for work so you didn’t feel quite as bad. You had pretended to be asleep while he got ready as you were unsure of how unstable your voice would sound. It had reached lunch time and your mind was going wild. Maybe you were exaggerating he works with women of course he might come home smelling like one. Why was this such a big deal? Why were you getting so jealous and so suspicious of him? You loved him and he loved you right? You decided to push everything to the back of your mind Alex wouldn’t do that to you. You were being ridiculous. So you decided to go for a jog to clear your mind. You ran 5 miles then stopped to head back. On the way home you stopped into your regular coffee shop and bought a mocha to take away. As you were about to leave you turn and almost collided with a very handsome looking man with short dark hair and moles spluttered all over his gorgeous face. You stood there eyes wide. “ I am so sorry I almost spilt this on you. I really should start paying attention.” you spoke quite flustered. He just chuckled at you. "Don’t worry about it I should have been watching where I was going too" he said with a smile. You extended your hand out to him. “ I’m Y/N” “Stiles” he replied. “Well Stiles it was nice to meet you but I’ve got to get going.” you were still shaking his hand as he cleared his throat indicating the handshake had gone on a little longer than necessary. “I’m sorry” you chuckled nervously “Well goodbye Y/N” he smiled once again “ehm yeah bye” you said as you quickly dashed out of the shop. What the hell was that. You laughed at yourself shake your head. As you drew closer to your home you saw Alex’s car pull into the driveway. You quickly ran up to him and jamp on his back scaring him a little. “Y/N holy shit you scared the crap outta me” “Sorry baby, I just missed you” You smiled at him as you kissed his cheek. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a light pink stain on Alex’s collar. Your eyes squinted with confusion trying to work out what the hell it was. That’s when Alex dragged you into the house and went upstairs to get changed. This time you knew something was up as he barely said a word to you all night and he was definitely avoiding looking at you. You managed to get a little bit of sleep but your mind was definitely going crazy now. Alex had already left for work by the time you had woken up. But you weren’t going to let this slide you needed to talk to him and you needed to talk to him now. You threw on some clothes and decided to drive to his work to see him. You needed to clear things up or you would go mad. You got into your BMW and started to drive towards the office. Luckily you knew where it was as Alex had pointed it out where you had first arrived. You quickly parked your car and walking into the front door of the building. You walked up to the receptionist and gave her a smile. “Hi, I’m look for Alex Hamilton.” “His office is on level 6 sweetie” She replied sweetly. You got into the elevator down the hall and clicked level 6. The elevator ride seemed to take forever as it slowly ascended the floors. Finally it reached 6 and the doors opened with a ping. You strolled down the corridor with offices and names on the doors on plaques. You finally reached your fiancés office as you read the name on the door. You notice that the blinds in the office were shut and you heard giggling from behind the door. You swung the door open and your heart broke. Alex was there fucking some fake looking bimbo on his desk. “I fucking knew it. You asshole” you slightly whispered the ending as tears poured from your eyes. “Shit Y/N wait I can explain” “ I don’t want to hear it!” you yelled “ we are so fucking over ” you continued slipping your engagement ring off of your finger. You threw it back in his face as you shakily called him an asshole one last time. You stormed out of the building tears pouring down your face. You climbed into your car smashing your fists off the steering wheel as you broke down even more. You drove straight to Kate’s house. You sat and cried with Kate for two hours. She looked at you sadly “I’m sorry Y/N but he was an ass and I can’t stand to sit here and watch you cry” She pulled at your hand and dragged you up the stairs. “You are going to put on a dress make yourself look beautiful and we are going to get drunk.” She smiled as she started to pull dresses out of her wardrobe.

#stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o brien #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brian imagine

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rainofcolours · 7 years

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Reignite all that I’ve Drowned (YGO)

Title: Reignite all that I’ve Drowned Author: Mystickal/celticheavens Rating: G Pairings/characters: Jounouchi Katsuya (+ Seto and Kaijou hints if you squint) Word Count: 3334 Genre: Character Study Summary: Even the most tenacious individuals falter, and sometimes, it takes the trust of another to revive that which was lost. A semi-realistic exploration of Jounouchi Katsuya's potential future after the Duel Monsters series. Feedback: Yes please! My writings tend to vacillate between introspection and character studies anyway, so feedback will help me improve for sure c: Comments: Part of my headcanon AU of the older YGO DM boys. This current one is set 5-15 years after the events of YGO DM, with the timeline of 5D's and GX being compressed within the time frame stated.

It was too late for Katsuya to be up, but he was currently engaged in a losing battle with the cacophony of sirens and shouting somewhere outside his apartment. He sighed as he fell into his lumpy mattress, and palmed his tired eyes, wondering how another day had slipped by again.

It is easy when time had stagnated in the monotony of the same routine – hauling himself out of bed before dawn; forcing himself to do a couple of laps around his neighbourhood; rushing to work while trying to stuff his sandwich down his throat; working until his hands were numb and back was cramped; grabbing a quick dinner alone in the same damn ramen place; finally dragging himself back to the mess of his small studio apartment, waiting to repeat the cycle again.

This wasn’t how he had envisioned his life. In a life that didn’t seem to be his, Katsuya was once the third best duelist in the world. It was quite the feat, and sometimes when he laid in the stuffiness of his bed, thoughts and memories deafening in his solitude, he wonders if it was all just the product of a wistful imagination.

Weren’t fame and recognition ingredients for a future of success? One paved with comfort and certainty, with the promise of a quaint home filled with the laughter of his future family? It worked more than well for many others, so why did the formula bring him only failure?

Perhaps it was because Katsuya was naïve. He used to be optimistic to a fault, with an industrious personality that previous hardships had proven almost impossible to break. His downfall was that he possessed a heart too soft for the harshness of success. Even now, that hadn’t changed. The only exception was that he had succumbed to cynicism, and finally acknowledged the impossibility of his fantasy. (Because how could he break something that was so intrinsic to who he was?)

To be fair, (kind of) winning did propel Katsuya from the pit of poverty to a life of relative stability. The exposure opened more doors than he had expected, and unsurprisingly, he soon grew addicted to the taste of his new life.

Bombarded by his newfound importance, he pursued every opportunity he could lay his hands on. What else would give him the best chance at relevance than the saturation of his public image? Aside from maintaining his existing lifestyle, he had hoped that the relationships created would solidify his longevity in the industry.

Unfortunately, even with his new recognition, the unyielding mound of debt his father had accumulated siphoned away his initial income. With the debt’s urgency, Katsuya ended up taking back his old part time job at the mechanic shop, hoping the steady stream of income would tide him until the next big pay check.

The new commitment eroded away much of his time. At the peak of his overload, trying to juggle his own practices with the evolution of Duel Monsters and his personal life seemed an insurmountable obstacle. When his sponsors dumped appearance after appearance on him, he felt too beholden to reject any of them. What had to give was his much needed practice time. However, with the debt steadily dwindling, he persevered, adamant that the money, friendships built and reinforced, and the eventual freedom would be worth it.

In spite of the responsibilities he shouldered, he still tried. Between work, media appearances, sponsor events, and personal commitments, he snuck in readings on new cards and strategies. With Yugi’s help, and using whatever he could afford to set aside from his earnings, Katsuya kept his deck as updated to the new meta as possible. But even with the talent Katsuya had for the game, he still found himself floundering with every new expansion and change of rules.

So, he practiced, and practiced, and practiced. He played until his fingers were numb from paper cuts; researched until his eyes were perpetually squinted and bloodshot; strategised until his sleep became the medium in which his simulated battles came alive.

Still, that wasn’t enough. Somewhere during the Synchro Summon bullshit that came along, Katsuya found himself failing to even breach the quarterfinals, let alone retain his title as one of the top duelists in the world. That was his endsong, for future attempts only led to the further plunging of his overall ranking.

With his repeated failure, the sponsors that had doted on him as their poster boy gradually evaporated, their hands already extended greedily before the newest champions.

Left with bitter sting of betrayal and little else, Katsuya was desperate. He pushed, and eventually begged his manager to secure him any form of work. Although his father’s debt had already been paid off, he would not risk using his meagre savings as the foundation for his increasingly uncertain future.

Between months, he would occasionally land gigs at very small local tournaments that catered more to the casuals than the professionals of the dueling world. They were miles away from the international championships he used to feature in, but they were still something amidst the drought he was trapped within.

To further add salt to his wounded pride, his fee would be negotiated and renegotiated. Knowing Katsuya was on his way out of the industry, the organisers strong-armed him with threats of inviting someone better unless he settled for just above the minimum. He complied each time.

Even that wasn’t so bad. As the months bled into years, his manager too abandoned him, preferring some fourth-rate duelist in the local scene to an ex-third place duelist in the world. Katsuya endured many humiliations during this period, but that alone left an inexpungible bruise on his previously unwavering faith in his capabilities.

With his last contact to the glamour of the sports lost, his hundreds of calls gone cold, and his inability to secure a notable placing in tournaments, what else could he have done?

For the first time in his life, Jounouchi Katsuya gave up.

It was difficult, almost excruciating trying to adapt to a life of normalcy. It became apparent that the fame he had gained would never disappear. Whispers would ghost by him when he was in public – of the duelist who came from a less than savoury background, once more fallen from grace; of the duelist whose lack of financial knowledge, must mean that he had expended all his monetary resources on the frivolous; of the duelist whose deck, and thus success were dependent on the whims of luck and nothing more; of the duelist whose visits to bars were definitely to satiate his hidden drinking habit and womanising ways purely because of his upbringing.

Katsuya tried for once to be the bigger man, to walk away from the inevitability of an outburst. He kept his head up, and ventured into alternate routes in the industry with less visibility, hoping the gossip would be less prominent. He tried for caster and coach positions for big and small events alike, only to have the persistent lies and his irrelevance thrown back at him.

After rounds and rounds of nonstop rejections (and anything but a shortage of snide remarks), even the most tenacious individuals start to falter. The fragment of doubt that had imprinted itself under his skin seeped into his broken resolve. Definitives became suggestives, actions became daydreams, and goals became wishes. Everything that was once within reach felt suffocatingly far, and capitulation taunted him as he strained against the inertia. When Katsuya finally stopped fighting, what he felt was not regret, but a surge of relief as he willingly watched a lifetime of hopes drown inside him.

With the pressure of expectations finally gone, Katsuya requested for a full-time position at the mechanic shop he had been helping at. Although the pay was mediocre, it was sufficient, just barely, to cover his living expenses until something better came along. Moreover, it was the only place that didn't care if he were a professional duelist or a washout – as long as he did his job well, he would get his pay.

A month, two, six, and soon twelve passed. His savings were dangerously low, and his prospects remained depressingly bleak. Even with the downsized studio, unless he worked a side job, he was at risk of not being able to afford rent soon.

Because of the gruelling hours at the mechanics shop, Katsuya struggled to find another job that complemented the former’s hours. It didn’t matter that he was running on empty most days, with his mind shrouded in a permanent fog of fatigue, and his eyes glazed with a resignation that betrayed the easy smile that hung on his chapped lips. With all that he had lost these years, he wasn’t about to lose his little luxury of personal space.

Three days from the due of his rent, Katsuya pulled out his savings for his monthly payment. Suitable jobs continued to elude him, so he had already started his search for alternative communal housing. He still wasn’t going to give up on his original plan, but he was also not stupid enough to risk eviction and become homeless by clinging on to false hope (never again).

When he returned from the bank, he found a long envelope stuffed beneath his main door. It was curious in how unremarkable it was, with the surprising absence of a stamp, and his name written in cursive on one side. The handwriting was unfamiliar – it lacked the neatness of Yugi’s print, the scratches of Hiroto’s stroke, and the deliberate slant of Anzu’s characters. One thing he was certain, was that it definitely wasn’t from his ex-manager. No way that unloyal bastard could write like that, nor did he know Katsuya’s new address.

Katsuya examined the writing, still trying to place its owner. He traced the graceful strokes of the characters, sliding along the pressure indents in quiet contemplation. Whoever penned it definitely had some calligraphic training, because he never knew his name could look so pleasing.

The big surprise came when he extracted the contents. Either he was dreaming, or it was a joke (if so, a very cruel one indeed). Within the unassuming package was a neatly bundled stack of ten thousand yen bills, brand new, but slightly crumpled from being forced under his door.

He thumbed through the wad in disbelief, suspicion unabated as he checked them for authenticity. There was little reason for anyone to send this much money over, especially after it’d been ages since his last appearance as a professional duelist. Katsuya spent the rest of his day scrutinising every single note, crosschecking them with a bill he had stashed away in his emergency fund.

The serial numbers were different; the microprinting was visible; the watermarks were prominent under light; the holographic pictures shifted colours as expected; the material was familiar and crisp…

After repeatedly being unable to find any faults with the notes, Katsuya cautiously set them aside, convinced of their authenticity, but still wary of the unexpected gift. He shook the empty envelope once more, hoping that some note he had missed would flutter onto his palm, but remained perplexed when all he felt was emptiness instead.

What were the odds that a random benefactor would drop such a significant gift onto his lap, and right when he needed it the most? Furthermore, it was bewildering that the amount present was that of his rent rounded up. Katsuya was certain that no one else besides him, and his landlord knew the cost of his studio apartment. Even Yugi with his best friend status did not have access to the information.

The thought of using that money was incredibly tempting, but over the years, he learnt that nothing was truly free. Every favour must be repaid, sometimes even in excess before the other party was satisfied. Without any knowledge of the other party’s intentions, it was just too big a gamble, even for a risk-taker like Katsuya. Right now, he couldn’t afford to be indebted to some stranger, not when he was at such a vulnerable point of his life.

Since he still had money for the current month’s rent, Katsuya carefully replaced the money into the envelope, tied it up the best he could, and hid it behind his disused stacks of cards. If it was a test or an elaborate prank of some sort, he was determined to not fall victim.

The next month went by uneventfully, with his luck in job-hunting just as dismal as before. By then, the incident had long been filed away, his mind too preoccupied with the stresses of daily life.

When he returned home from an especially long day of work, he was greeted by another envelope, identical to the one from a month before. He stared at it, questioning if the lack of sleep had finally manifested in micro hallucinations. He reached for it hesitantly, the crinkle of material a confirmation of reality.

Katsuya looked at his phone and saw that it was once again three days to his next rent payment. He felt his confusion from the previous month resurge as he fumbled about the package, fingers easily identifying the rustle of notes within. There on top of the envelope was his name, written in the same neat cursive as before.

He set the envelope on his bed, flustered that whoever it was had decided to send even more money to him. While he would be the first to admit that his financial situation was shaky, it was definitely not precarious enough for him to need handouts from someone he didn’t know.

After confirming his suspicions, he resealed the envelope as best he could, and threw it behind his card collection, next to the previous one.

The envelopes continued showing up, always three days before his rent was due. There was never anything else inside it, and the only words on it would be his name in cursive. Katsuya tried to compare the handwritings of his friends to that on the envelopes lest his memory was inaccurate. Not only were theirs different, he ended up receiving compliments on the writing form, and a string of light-hearted teases thrown his way when he was tight-lipped about its contents.

Realising that his efforts were futile, Katsuya decided that he would imagine his mysterious benefactor as the personification of Lady Luck. If the person wanted to remain anonymous, Katsuya was more than happy to oblige for it was one less thing he had to worry about.

When winter arrived, his landlord decided that it was justified for the rent to be increased by a hefty twenty per cent. Barely holding out at the current rate, Katsuya was furious when he found out. Even if he skimped on all luxuries, he knew it was unsustainable on his current income. Furthermore, it would be extremely rude of him to ask for a raise less than a year into his stint as a full time employee. Even if he did, he doubted the owner would be pleased with his forthright demand, and little substantiation besides I’m really broke, please help.

As he sat frustrated into the night, all he could think of was the growing stash of money that kept arriving at his literal doorstep. With the bearish market forcing even more people out of jobs, finding a second job was near impossible. His current job, and the handyman work he did around the building could only bring in so much. The only way for him to keep his current lifestyle (which wasn’t all that glamourous and luxurious) was to use part of that money.

The money had been accumulating for a good number of months, and if it were a prank and not from the kindness of a philanthropist, the owner of the cash would have long revealed themselves. It had been a good half-year of Katsuya waiting for someone to collect the money. After so long, what were the odds of the money belonging to anyone else but him now?

If there were an alternative that didn’t involve him downgrading to a hostel somewhere with him huddling against strangers due to inadequate heating, Katsuya would have taken that option. His current residence was the only decent place he could afford, and sure enough, it was too good a deal to be true given the rent hike.

He reached behind his prized cards, and gathered the slightly dusty envelopes. When he felt their collective weight in his hands, he finally became aware of their significance. The money within held more than his rent – Katsuya realised that for the first time in recent memory, someone had given him an opportunity. What he held wasn’t a favour disguised as a loan. It was a gift of trust with no strings attached.

Somehow, whatever this person had glimpsed convinced them that Katsuya was a worthy recipient. It was overwhelming knowing that even after how so many had hollowed out the best of him, and hung his shell out to dry, someone still managed to see past his wither and found a part of him that was redeemable.

The first rent payment that included those notes was the hardest. Exchanging ownership of them added a sense responsibility that was refreshing in the confidence boost it gave, but also terrifying as a reminder of his failure. Katsuya may not possess the same courage as before, but he is resolute in wanting to justify the trust given to him.

For the first time in years, Katsuya felt reinvigorated with purpose.

Katsuya went about his job as a mechanic with an enthusiasm he thought was lost to history. His change in demeanour was not unnoticed by his coworkers, and his boss was delighted with the change of atmosphere. With a reason to keep pushing forward, time gradually started trickling alongside the activity of each brand new day.

Although Katsuya was still unable to revert fully to his old carefree self, he was no longer asphyxiating in his own despair, and shackled by his own regrets. His temples hurt less, and laughter came more easily, much to the relief evident in his friends’ eyes. When Katsuya finally started fighting, what he felt was not exhaustion, but a surge of relief as he willingly watched another lifetime of hopes reignite inside him.

The envelopes continued to arrive monthly (astonishingly, with the value updated to his new rent), calling to Katsuya in the same neat cursive. He would never take more than a few notes to supplement each payment, preferring to rely on his own competence whenever possible. Whenever he could, he made it a point to repay the money by depositing his excesses into the envelopes as a ritual of gratitude (which also served as a reminder of the responsibility he now borne).

Half a decade later, Katsuya is now the assistant manager of the same mechanic shop. Finally enjoying his time, he has decided to stay in this line of work instead of forcing his way back into the virtual card games industry. These days, he spends his hours helping the owner, whom he has become close friend with, to expand his business. Unlike before, he hasn’t yet thought of where he would be in the next ten years. Now that his confidence has been renewed, wherever it is, it will finally be a success.

Katsuya now has a proper safe to store the envelopes that still appear with perfect frequency. A lot more financially independent than before, he has long stopped relying on them to get by. In spite of that, Katsuya has already made it a habit to always include some of those notes in his rent or other significant payments. It has become almost a source of comfort for him when he inserts his used wrinkled notes next to the crisp fresh ones – a memento of a time when it took a stranger’s belief in him to turn his life around.

#ygo #yugioh #Katsuya Jounouchi #ygo fanfiction #My Writings #I really love this boy/man so much ok #I've so many headcanons for him it's not even funny #hoping to write more drabbles!#so tempted to tag this as kaijou just because mr. unnamed benefactor in my head is seto OTL #Joey Wheeler #also all the showings for DSOD were sold out so please don't spoil it for me!!

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