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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months

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Streetkid!Hobie x Fem!Reader - Part 3

Part 1

Part 2

I post these earlier on wattpad, the link is in my pinned post!! <3

~4.4k words

Masterlist

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Hobie's POV

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"I'm telling you, Ri, I saw her!"

"Stop moving!"

"Y'have to believe me!" Hobie exclaimed, squirming as Riri dabbed the scratches on his neck with rubbing alcohol before gently placing bandaids on his cuts. "Yeah, yeah, I believe you" she said with an eye roll, more focused on his wounds than he was himself.

"Seriously, it was like I was inna dream..." he started to say, tilting his head back against the wall and closing his eyes with a dreamy sigh. "Couldn't believe m'eyes."

Riri hesitated for a moment as she pulled away from him, satisfied with her handiwork patching him up. "Are you su-"

"Are you sure it was her?" Kamala cut in, walking towards the both of them, hands on her hips with her eyebrow raised. "I mean, you haven't seen her in a decade, how can you be sure?"

"I'm telling you Kamala, it was her." Hobie said, standing up with a groan and wiping the dust off his jeans. He was covered in blood and scratches.

"uh-huh" she wasn't convinced.

Yesterday's riot had done a number on the group. Although they'd been able to keep the protestors safe and had successfully destroyed the mansion, they'd gotten pretty banged up. Karl was in the other room taking a nap while Kamala, Riri and Hobie stitched each other's cuts and bandaged each other up. It was normal for them to be beat up after such a heavy conflict, but it wasn't doing much to boost the team's morale. Meanwhile, Hobie was over the moon at the fact that he'd caught a glimpse of that girl, even if their conversation had been a bit short-lived.

"She looked nearly the same." Hobie started again, eliciting eye rolls from both Kamala and Riri who simultaneously sighed and ignored him. "I could never forget those eyes."

"You do realize she's the daughter of a cop, right?" Riri asked him, looking over at Hobie curiously. "So? I can fix her." Hobie folded his arms over his chest with a cocky smile. "Sure you can."

"No, really! I can. I will." He was completely confident in his ability to win her over, but the girls definitely weren't. "Always the optimistic one" Riri stated under her breath, shooting a knowing smile over at Kamala.

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Your POV

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You were sprawled out on your bed, head tilted back, eyes closed shut as your mind strained to remember the fine details of what'd happened last night. After Spider-Man had warned you, it'd all been a blur. Harry grabbing your hand and pulling you out the building, Mr. Osborne's angry yelling and the appearance of his agents, the silent ride home in the taxi...but the one thing she remembered in full was that man's voice.

He sounded so calm, so sweet, his deep voice and thick accent sending a wave of comfort down her body, relaxing every racing thought as she recalled it. He'd called her 'darling'. Well, a lot of people called her darling, but this felt different. He sounded like he really meant it, like that word was more than just a term of endearment to him.

Like he really did find her darling.

No. That was impossible. He was just trying to help her out. After all, it was thanks to him that she'd gotten out of there without a scratch, saved by a quiet warning. It didn't mean anything.

She sat up, hugging her pillow to her chest as she crossed her legs with a sigh. But why did he act like he knew her? What was he whispering to himself about? Why did he warn her specifically instead of the rest of the crowd? There must've been something else behind it, some hidden reason as to why he found her well-being more important than that of the hundreds of other partygoers in the mansion.

Why did he seem so familiar?

"Ms? Are you awake yet?"

You were broken out of your mind by the sound of knocking on the door, your maid having come to remind you of the time. You groaned and fell back onto the bed, covering your face with the pillow and rolling over to the side. 7:30. It was time for you to begin your errands of the day.

"Coming!"

__________________________

Hobie's POV

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After a proper nap, Hobie found himself ready to begin his day as Spider-Man or 'superheroing' as Kamala called it, grabbing his mask before positioning himself next to the window of his room. His body still ached, covered in cuts and scratches, but it'd have to do, because F.E.A.S.T needed his help today.

There was a huge food transport happening today, and Hobie would have to help protect it, as F.E.A.S.T trucks were often looted due to their high loads and costly materials. This supply was extremely important though, because it was nearly Christmas, meaning F.E.A.S.T's annual holiday celebration was coming up, where they hosted a huge service during which they'd provide hours worth of entertainment, food and drinks for anyone who attended. Not only did this festival lead to an increase in volunteers, but it also helped give sign up access to people who were struggling, helping employees provide them with shelter for the coming weather.

Hobie, an avid supporter of the organization that'd saved him from homelessness, attended this Christmas festival every year, both as Spider-Man and as himself, in order to keep the attendees safe and to be able to sign up to volunteer at the shelters. It was the only 'job' he'd ever had and he hoped it was the only 'job' he'd ever take.

Although this year, a new item had been added to his list of reasons for attending. You.

He hoped that the grandness of the festival would be enough to attract your attention, despite knowing very few members of the higher class attended. Even then, a man could wish...

He jumped out the window, pulling his mask on in the process and shooting a web towards the nearest building, propelling him in the direction of the headquarters. As he swung through the city, he kept his eyes on where the officers were patrolling, where new squads had appeared, mapping everything out in his mind. It'd help him sneak past these same places later on.

The city was overrun by pigs, Osborne's goons stationed in every section of every street, especially after yesterday's riot. The officers were on high alert, pointing their guns towards Hobie's swinging figure whenever he passed by, despite knowing they wouldn't even be able to come close to harming him.

"COZZERS!" (A British slur for cops) Hobie yelled out as he passed them by. They yelled their own share of slurs at him, but he didn't pay any mind, laughing like a maniac as he swung circles around them on his way to his destination.

He loved being Spider-man.

Sure, there was plenty of responsibility, but there was also so much freedom. Being able to stand up for what you believed in, with no fear of being thrown in jail, shot, killed or worse. You could really just do whatever you wanted and nobody could stop you. Hobie always reminded himself of that.

Whenever a fight got too intense, whenever he got a little too bashed up, he would remind himself why he was doing this. For the people. It was his own little saying really, almost like a prayer he'd tell himself before he went off to do the rash, stupid things he did every day.

For the people.

"For the people" Hobie murmured to himself, his eyes scanning the F.E.A.S.T truck that was getting ready to leave from the dock back to the shelter. As the truck left, he did too, silently swinging by its side, being careful to stay out of sight of any criminals that might've been waiting for their chance.

And then, like he'd expected...it happened.

A car swerved in front of the truck, causing the driver to slam on the brakes. He looked around with a bewildered expression on his face, shaking his fist at the car in front of him, until the goons got out, surrounding the helpless vehicle.

Hobie swung in, knocking out one of the thugs in the process, sending the others running. It didn't take long for him to gather them all up, tie them together with his webs and then send the truck on its way, following behind until it finally reached the shelter.

When he arrived, the employees cheered, happy to see their beloved hero. He was offered food, water, the usual, but as usual he refused, gave them a salute, and went on his way. Dropping by an alleyway, he changed out of his suit, and back into good old Hobie Brown, shoving his hands in his pockets and making his way back towards the shelter.

He was greeted similarly, offered high fives and water, and put to work carrying, cooking and decorating. The festival would be at the end of the week, only four days away, and there was plenty to be done. The set up had already begun, but Hobie was thrown into the kitchen for most of the day, cooking up food for the people staying in the shelter, and passing it out amongst everyone along with friendly smiles and a couple light conversations.

He made it his goal to learn the names of every person in that place, and he stayed true to it, getting to know everybody and even ending up becoming friends with some. He could relate to all these people. After all, he'd spent a good amount of time at F.E.A.S.T himself, and he knew that things could only get better from here.

Wearing a white apron and a chef's hat one of the kids had offered him, Hobie was in the process of handing out some of the last bowls of hot soup when he saw the door open. Expecting it to be another person looking for shelter entering, he ignored it, continuing to pass out the lunches. Until...he heard that voice.

"Hi, I'm here to volunteer?"

He snapped his head up, nearly dropping the ladle he had in his hand as his eyes widened. Those gorgeous eyes, that glowing skin, it was her.

He froze up as he saw one of his colleagues begin explaining things to you, handing you a sign-up sheet. He felt as thought his heart would burst when he caught your smile, the way your eyes crinkled just slightly when you laughed. He couldn't do anything but stare as you walked right past him, barely even noticing his presence.

He had to talk to you. He quickly finished handing out the bowls before he practically ripped his apron off and began walking towards you, who'd already began your work decorating the trees.

But then, he froze in his tracks.

He couldn't approach you...how could he? What if he said something weird? What if you didn't like him? What if he messed something up? No...he'd have to get your attention some other way.

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Your POV

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You were pulled into the bustle of the shelter, already part of the volunteer family despite spending so little time working. Everyone was excited to meet you, dragging you from here to there to introduce you and help you get to know the others. Everyone was really nice, happy to welcome you and excited to learn your name. You were put to work decorating the trees that were scattered around the room, mainly in the corners, hanging little globes and colorful stars on the branches, with the help of the many adorable children residing within the shelter.

You'd always wanted to work at F.E.A.S.T. You loved the idea of volunteer work and giving back to your community, but your father had never allowed you anywhere near the shelter, much less allowed you to sign up to help. He said it was a job for hippies with nothing better to do, which you heavily disagreed with.

But now, because you were older, you could do what you wanted without having to worry about him. Even if he tried to stop you, he wouldn't really be able to.

You found yourself alone as you decorated the last tree, the children who'd been accompanying you having been distracted by the promise of popsicles. You hummed quietly to yourself, gently placing a dark red ornament on one of the taller branches, getting up on your tip toes to do so.

But suddenly, you heard a noise

Thwip

You swiveled your head around, peering in the direction of the noise. Your eyes widened as you recalled where you'd heard that noise before. Standing up straight, you looked around nervously, taking a slight step back. "Show yourself!" You called out. "Don't hide! What do you want?"

Thwip

It was coming from behind you. You turned around to see the back door, just barely opened. It led to the alleyway behind the shelter. That must be where it's coming from.

As you approached the door, you hesitated for a moment. Was it really a good idea for you to be following a strange noise towards an empty alleyway? You shrugged.

Thwip

You opened the door cautiously, peering outside. Standing there, leaning against the wall, was exactly who you were expecting. "'ello, darling" he said with a wink.

"You...what are you doing here?" You asked, approaching him in awe. Maybe your suspicions were right. There was a reason behind how he'd warned you last night. Why else would he be visiting you again?

"Just wanted t'say hi to m'favorite lass" he said, stretching his arms out as he walked toward you, shoving his hands into his vest. He leaned down toward you slightly, his figure towering over yours. "We left off pretty abruptedly"

"Who are you?" You breathed out, looking up at him with a slight smile on your face, still in disbelief at the fact that he was standing there, in front of you, talking to you like he'd known you for years.

"Your friendly neighborhood Spider-man of course. Don't tell me you haven't heard of me?" He said teasingly.

"Yesterday-why-how-why did you-?" Your mind was flooded with questions, a string of horribly worded sentences flowing out of your mouth as you rambled. "Woah, calm down." He said, putting his hands up in front of him. "How 'bout I take y'somewhere quieter first? Hmm?"

He leaned in a little closer again. "I know a place where I can answer all y'questions" He looked to the side. "Maybe even get t'know each other a little more too"

"No."

He blinked at you. "No? Wha-what d'ya mean, no?" His shoulders slumped slightly and his voice went up an octave, on the verge of cracking.

"I'm not going to follow a wanted criminal to a quiet place that I've probably never even heard about" You said with a scoff. You leaned back on your heel and turned in the other direction, about to walk away, despite still being fairly curious.

"Wait!"

You smirked to yourself and looked over your shoulder. He scrambled towards you, his lanky arm reaching out towards you, palm up. "Please. I-I need to talk to you." You looked down at his palm disinterestedly, raising your eyebrow at him. "And why would I agree to that?"

"Because I'm Spider-Man."

"What's your point?" you asked tightly, putting your hand on your hip.

He shook his head furiously, the eyes of his mask wide. "You don't understand, I need to talk to you!" His voice was a higher-pitch than before and he sounded like he was on the verge of begging, his hands clasping together.

"What do you need to talk to me about?"

"About-" he hesitated. "I just...want to get to know you" his voice turned deep again and he shrugged sheepishly, standing up straight and looking to the side, trying to seem nonchalant. What a weirdo.

Suddenly, it dawned over you. You scowled, turning away from him. "It's 'cuz I'm the Captain's daughter" you said softly, feeling your heart drop. He must've been trying to get close to you to gain more information about your father and the rest of the police force. "I can't believe you!"

His stance slackened, his eyes widening as he tried to defend himself. "No tha's not wh-"

"You want to befriend me?" You pointed at him. "Morph me into your perfect little rebel?!"

"No i jus-"

"I may not agree with the things my father stands for but I am not a spy and I am not some helpless little girl for you to mold into your servant!" You fumed, throwing your hands up in the air. He looked baffled as you turned away from him once again, ready to march back into the shelter without a second thought.

Thwip

A web caught onto your hand, and he yanked you back towards him, spinning you into his arms. You fell against him with a yelp, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from running away again. "Let go-" you struggled.

"Please."

You froze when you heard his voice, raspy yet soft as he desperately held you down out of the fear that you'd leave. "Please. I need to talk to you." he whispered. You looked up at him, eyes narrowing slightly as you felt a wave of guilt wash over you. "I don't even know you." You said quietly.

"Then get to know me."

You hesitated for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek in frustration. "Let go." He obliged, slowly unhooking his arms from around your waist and letting them fall limp at his sides, awkwardly watching you make a decision.

"Ten minutes. That's all you get."

The eyes of his mask lit up and you could tell he was grinning at you from under. "You won't regret it, doll" he said with a wink, offering you his hand as he bowed forward slightly, the way a prince would offer his hand to a princess.

You reluctantly agreed and his hand engulfed yours as he pulled you into him, barely given you a moment to adjust yourself before he lifted the two of you off the ground in one fell swoop, forcing you to have to hold onto him for dear life. He was obviously enjoying your closeness and you swore you heard a deep chuckle escape his lips when you gasped, not used to the sensation of sudden acceleration.

You kept your face buried in his neck as he swung you towards this quiet place he'd spoken about, unable to say a word. Meanwhile, he was excitedly talking your ear off, telling you that he knew you'd love what he'd picked out. You couldn't help but wonder to yourself, why was he trying so hard? What did he want from you?

"You can loosen up a little, I won't drop you luv." You heard him say quietly, as if he was afraid he'd scare you if he spoke any louder. You nervously loosened your arms around his neck, giving him a little more breathing room as he tightened his grip on your waist. You looked up from his shoulder and you were awestruck.

Everything was a blur as the two of you swung faster than you'd ever gone before, your head feeling dizzy with the buildings, cars and people disappearing faster than you could see them. You didn't know how fast he was moving and you were too afraid to ask, knowing putting a number to the speed would just make the whole experience even more daunting.

And then, you felt him begin to slow down and eventually, your feet touched the ground, sinking in just slightly. Even after feeling the dirt under your feet, you kept your arms around him in fear that you would somehow still end up falling. "Uh, darling? We're here." He said softly, a smile on his face as he looked down at you. You cleared your throat as you jumped back, unhooking yourself from him. "Right."

You looked around nervously, taking in your surroundings. He'd brought you to what looked like an abandoned building, rubble everywhere and half the walls caved in. "What is this place?" You asked softly, looking around.

The slightly disgusted expression on your face must've been obvious, because you could tell that his mood had dropped. "I...thought you'd like it." he said softly, looking down, his hands in his pockets. "It's F.E.A.S.T's old headquarters. Before it was bombed."

F.E.A.S.T's original headquarters had been bombed by supervillains a couple years ago, which was why they had moved to a place downtown, where there would be more security and less chance of another attack.

"Oh!" Your eyes widened and a grin appeared on your face as the memories flooded your brain. This was where you'd always told people to go when you were younger. If you ever saw someone struggling or with an empty hat out in their hands, asking for money, you'd always point them in this direction and tell them that the people here would help. It was your way of helping out when your father wouldn't let you do it properly.

"I love it." You said softly, looking around the ruins. "Thank you." His eyes lit up and he approached you slightly, hands still shoved deep into his pockets as he shrugged embarrassedly. "s'nothing really." he said quietly, keeping his eyes on you as you walked towards the window, looking out with a soft sigh.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" you asked him, looking back over your shoulder at his fidgeting figure. "I...I don't know. I didn't plan this far." He admitted, looking down. You laughed, looking back out the window. "How cute."

His head perked up. "Y'think I'm cute?"

"I think the situation's...cute." You cleared your throat. "For the lack of a better word of course." you added quickly. "Yeah, yeah of course." He kicked a rock out of his way with his foot. "So...what's your name?"

"Y/N" you said, watching some of the cars on the streets below pass by, your elbow propped up on the windowsill and your hand supporting your chin. "Y/N...pretty name for a pretty lass." he said with what you believed was a smile under his mask, coming up behind you.

"Why do you want to get to me, Spider-man?" You asked, turning around and facing him, your back pressed against the edge of the window, your head having to tilt up to look at him properly. He leaned down to get to your height. "You caught my eye."

You scoffed. "That can't be true. You said you knew me." He had asked if you'd remembered him that day at the ball, and you remembered how nervous and fidgety he'd seemed. "That I did." he said softly, trying to think up some sort of excuse.

"Where did you meet me last?" His eyes widened and he looked away, swallowing. "A while ago."

"When?"

"I can't put a date to it."

"How long ago?"

"Long." He nodded. "Very long."

You groaned out of frustration, looking back out the window. "What are you hiding from me?" You asked him. He shook his head. "I'm not hiding anything."

"Then why won't you tell me when you met me last?"

"If I tell you, you'll know who I am." He leaned in over your shoulder, looking at you. "And I can't let you know who I am."

"Then why bring me here?" You looked over your shoulder at him, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. "Why go out of your way to talk to me?"

He stayed silent. "What a joke." You muttered under your breath, biting the inside of your cheek.

"Because I'm in love with you."

You froze. "What?" You asked softly, looking back at him, eyes wide and jaw practically hanging open. He cleared his throat. This was not going according to his plan. "Because I'm in love with you." He repeated, tugging at the collar of his suit as he looked to the side. "I've been in love with you for years and I'm finally acting on it."

"Look, Spider-man-" You put your hands up nervously, barely able to process what he was telling you. "-I don't even know you and-"

"That's why I brought you here." he interrupted. "Because I want to get to know you and I want you to get to know me."

Your breath hitched in your throat. "You're quite forward, aren't you?" You said nervously, feeling yourself get a little dizzy. Your heart was beating very fast and not in the love-sick way. You were afraid. You were stuck in an abandoned building with a strange man who you believed had been watching you. Anyone would be afraid.

"Look, I know you probably think I'm some creep-" he started, his voice sounding slightly strained as he tried to get you to see the situation from his point of view, "-but it's not like I've been watching you. I saw you once and I couldn't get over you. he said softly, his voice quieting to a whisper.

"You've been the only thing in my mind for a long time. And that day at the ball-" he took a step towards you, "-that was only the second time I saw you and I already knew I was in love."

He noticed how nervous you seemed. "Please don't be scared." he said softly, his hand reaching out to take yours. He gently ran his finger over your palm as you looked up at him. "I swear, I just want to get to know you. I just-I just want to know who you are."

"I want to know who I fell in love with."

Tags:

@therealloopylupin2099 @spiderrinn @l0starl @daydreaming-en-pointe @itsparis-07 @vileviale @puff-hugs @s6onder

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pareidoliaonthemove · 8 months

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Random Weirdness on the Railway

I’ve done nearly ten years on the railway now, and one of the things they don’t tell you when you start is … you’re gonna hit things.

Animals, trees, shopping trolleys, trucks … people. (Don��t worry, this isn’t one of those stories.)

Where I work, Central West New South Wales in Australia, the most common thing to hit is kangaroos, followed by sheep. They just get in the corridor, and … don’t get off the tracks. Unless we get stock notification from the Network Controller and can slow down in time, we usually can’t stop, and, well, a train can’t swerve.

So yesterday, I’m in the assistant driver’s seat, and we’re going along between the two towns we’re scheduled to run through, and there’s a something on the line. We figure it’s a kangaroo, and sound the horn, and then it starts awkwardly flying.

It’s not a kangaroo.

It’s a peacock.

And it’s not flying away. Well, it is, but a peacock flying directly along the tracks away from a train doing 80km/h is going to lose. Badly.

We keep sounding the horn – we can’t stop. It’s just not physically possible.

And the damned peacock just will not turn. It keeps going straight ahead.

We lose sight of it in the windscreen, and we both check our side windows, but it doesn’t come out the side. We’ve hit it full on, and it’ll be on the tracks as a 900metre trail goes over it.

So we call Control. A peacock is probably going to be somebody’s escaped pet. So we notify control that we’ve hit it, the approximate kilometerage, and that we didn’t see it come out the side. Its up to Control to decide if there is a risk the animal is still alive, and organise for it to be euthanised, and it’s also so they know what happened and when if somebody calls up screaming that a train has killed their beloved, valuable animal (and yes, it happens – some people seem to believe we’ve been chasing their livestock through fields in the train, instead of it got out of their unmaintained fences and onto the train tracks).

And we think no more of it.

Until we get to where we’re scheduled to get off the train.

By now it’s full dark. The relief crew lets us into the yard. This yard is a “Y” junction. It has three tracks in and out, shaped like a capital Y. We came in the right diagonal, and the train needs to go out the left diagonal, so we have to take the locos off the front, and put them on the ‘back’.

The relief crew detaches the locos from the wagons, and we go to do the crew change over at the points at the bottom of the yard. As the locos get closer to the points, we go past a couple of lights.

A call comes over the radio. “Uh, did you guys … hit something?”

Damn. Obviously there’s parts hung up in the pipework on the front of the loco. Yuck. They’ll need to be pulled off. Double yuck. I’m the Assistant Driver on the outgoing crew. That’s my job. Triple yuck.

We answer yes, we did.

Silence.

“Uhh. You guys need to see this.”

WTF?

We pull up at the points, both jump down. The car’s been swung around so the headlights are facing the front of the loco. The two guys are just standing there, staring.

By now we’re sweating bullets. There was nothing there when we checked the train over before leaving. We only hit the peacock. We’d have noticed if we hit something else! What the hell is wrong?!

We join the next crew and – no idea what we’re going to see – turn to look at the front of the loco.

It’s the peacock.

It’s the whole peacock.

Its tail is caught in the coupler, and drooping down, almost touching the ground. Its little feet are braced against the coupler, and its entire back and neck is pressed up against the front of the loco. It’s wings … oh dear god, its wings are splayed out, one either side, pressed up against the front of the loco.

We’ve just driven over 100kms and through a major town, at the tail end of peak hour traffic, with a peacock splayed across the front of our loco like it’s been crucified.

That is one hell of a hood ornament.

I don’t know how long we stood there for, just staring at the utter absurdity of the situation, and completely unable to believe what we’re seeing.

Finally one of the relief crew gathers his wits. “We can’t leave that there.”

It’s enough to break the spell, I step forward, trying to figure out the best way to tackle this as I pull on my gloves.

The peacock moves.

We all jump back.

It shakes its head, then peels first one, then the other, wing off the front of the loco. Then it curls its neck, and sort of peels itself off the front of the loco, like a cartoon character after it’s been squashed flat on a wall, and sort of collapses onto the coupler. It sits there, looking around.

We’re back to staring.

The peacock notices us. It glares as it starts shaking itself out, like it’s checking for injuries.

It must be feeling relatively okay, because it stops moving, ups the power of the glare, and then screams at us.

We take a step back, still staring.

This goes on for another minute or so, the four of us frozen, staring, as this peacock screams at us, clearly giving us piece of its mind.

And then it stops. It has obviously said its piece, but it keeps glaring at us, in between looking around again.

And abruptly, it launches itself off the coupler, and disappears into the darkness.

#train #railway #australia #true story #weirdness

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lavendertales · 2 years

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Love is the devil—Javier Peña x f!reader

Chapter 15 of the Unholy series

summary: at Steve’s birthday party (and the celebration following Escobar’s demise), things get a little emotional for you and Javier—as well as tense.

word count: 5.3k

WARNINGS: brief mentions of PTSD; alcohol, soft & gentle Javi, allusions to masturbation & sex.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @joel-millerr

series masterlist | AO3

The blood spills all over your clothes, hands and feet, and fear courses through your veins. It freezes your body altogether, immobilizing your limbs as you watch the scene unfold for the millionth time. No matter what you do, you cannot stop the catastrophe from happening. You cannot stop the bloodshed, the pain, the horrific aftermath.

Even after you wake up, the sentiment remains deeply imbedded in your brain and bones alike, shaking you up completely.

You basically chug your coffee, in a lame attempt to rid yourself of the phantom sensation of Carrillo’s blood over you, but it doesn’t do much for you. It does warm up your extremities, though, so you take every little win you can.

The past three days have been buzzing with celebrations all over Colombia, as well as all over the world. The news that Pablo Escobar’s reign has come to an end took over the world, and you were undoubtedly eased as well. You heard about Trujillo and Steve’s heroic moment, how the two of them caught and executed Escobar on the spot, and you couldn’t have been prouder. Part of you does wonder how come Javier missed the once in a lifetime opportunity to be perceived as the third hero in this story, but you needn’t ask yourself too much why.

That time, you lost yourself. Although you would never have done it, your emotions ultimately prevailed, and you now sincerely regret it.

The raw truth is that your father was never there. You only saw him three or four times a year, and each time he gave you a quick hug before heading out again, leaving you in a state of confusion. You were alone when you were born, and you remain so today.

And it wasn’t fair to yourself, after all, to distort the image of a paternal figure to the point of pushing away the most influential and constant presence in your life. In the end, Javier was the one perpetual element you could always count on no matter what.

So when you return to the office, one sunny morning, you’re greeted by all your colleagues, equally enthused—perhaps for several reasons, not just your appearance.

“Are you back? Please tell me you’re back,” Sofia nearly begs, holding your hands into hers.

“I’ll be back on Monday. Although I’m not sure for what, now that Escobar is gone.”

“Well, the Cali cartel is gaining terrain and power, so that’s a whole other thing now. And—“

Sofia pauses, catching your attention. “What?” you ask.

“Oh. They—didn’t tell you.”

“Who’s ‘they’? And tell me what?”

“Okay. Uh… Javi was assigned as the lead for the Cali operation, and… he recommended Steve, me and you for the mission.”

The news surprises you in a way you wouldn’t have expected it, and you make no attempt at concealing that.

“He wanted Trujillo too, but he actually resigned yesterday, so,” Sofia goes on.

“Huh. So… the four of us are going to Cali?”

“We’re going to Cali.”

She hugs you briefly, missing out on the confused expression on your face as you scan the room. In this moment, as your anger has finally vanished completely, you seek Javier. Your eyes seek him out relentlessly, yet he seems nowhere to be found.

The next person to greet you is Steve. He also draws you closer for a hug that you happily reciprocate.

“How have you been?” he asks immediately.

“Better,” you say, and you believe yourself, finally feeling your words to be true. “Really better.”

“I’m glad to hear it. It’s been a rough couple of months for you, huh?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Listen, since I got you here… Connie and I were talking and we wanna do a little celebration at our place tonight. She may have insisted because of my birthday too, but… yeah, you know how it is. Happy wife, happy life.”

“It’s your birthday?”

“Yeah, it’s this weekend.”

You hug him again, truly happy to feel like you have made at least a couple of friends throughout your time in Colombia. “I’ll be there,” you tell him with a smile on your face.

“I should probably warn you, Javi’s coming, too.”

You hold your breath, and it’s probably visible on your face, but it is way past playing pretend with Steve.

“That’s okay,” you concede. “I figured he would.”

“You sure it’s okay?”

“Yes. Worst comes to worst, I’ll sit in a corner with Sofia and Connie.”

“You’re still not on speaking terms, I take it.”

“About that, uh… is he around? I haven’t seen him.”

Steve’s eyebrows lift in surprise as he looks around. “He was here like two hours ago. But then again, he stayed throughout the night, so he might’ve left to sleep.”

Your brows crease in confusion, yet you do not ask for more. You can only speculate the reason behind Javier’s habit of pulling all-nighters again. Was he avoiding you? Probably not on purpose, but it certainly did create quite a beneficial side effect.

You decide not to overthink anything. For now, you try to take one thing at a time.

“There’ll be alcohol, by the way,” Steve informs you like he had just read your mind.

Your face lightens up and you even sport a dashing smile across your face. “Perfect,” you joke.

But not really.

Because you will need booze if you have to spend the entire celebration evening with your coworkers and Javier lurking about.

The thing about your family is… you’ve never really had one.

Your grandmother, may she rest in peace, was the one who took care of you, cooked for you, helped you with homework and everything else in between. She was both a mother and a father to you, so when she passed away, you were heartbroken, to say the least. That’s when you decided to do something useful with your life, to fight like she fought for you. So you began your training and later joined the DEA office in New York.

You didn’t know your mother. She left you and your father when you were born, and you never heard from her again. You tried to track her down over the years though, and eventually managed to get some information about her, but you never spoke to her. She felt too far out of reach, too much of a stranger to begin having a relationship now. When you heard she passed away, it wasn’t that traumatic, though it carried no shortness of pain and guilt. At least for a little while.

And your father… well. Now that you have the full picture, you see your childhood in the clearest picture possible. He tried, when you were still a toddler, to be there and do everything, but he always struggled with money. Your grandmother managed to put food on the table thanks to her rather generous pension, but your father could not stand the idea of being the man of the house and having his own mother still provide for him and his child. So he went traveling for a few weeks, only to return a completely changed man. He was in a better mood, seemed healthier and happier, and proudly announced that he found a job as a traveling salesman. You remember the moment he had cupped your cheeks and told you, with happy tears in his eyes, that neither of you will have to struggle again. He told you that you will have everything you need, and that he will take care of it.

From thereon after, you only saw him three, four times a year, maybe five if you were lucky.

So you were never close with him either. The only family you ever know, your grandmother, passed away peacefully after you graduated from college. The timing had been perfect, come to think of it: you had been trying to figure out what to do afterwards, and when you bid your goodbye to her, it hit you. You knew what you had to do.

You’ve thought about your life from every possible angle for the past few weeks, every single day, without fail. The anger you once felt has evaporated, much like a boulder has been lifted from your shoulders, no longer forcing you to carry such a heavy burden. There was only understanding and regret to be felt.

And a certain type of yearning that almost felt debilitating in its complexity.

You both dreaded and longed to see Javier tonight. More so because you wanted to make things right, express your understanding of his choice, and, most importantly, let him know that you would’ve followed the same course of action.

It wasn’t even about duty per se. It was about doing the right thing. And Javier did the right thing.

So you take a deep breath now as you finish applying your makeup and give your outfit one last look in the mirror in an effort to calm your worries and clear your mind. There is no denying your nervousness.

You start to create a mental picture of Javier, trying to recall every detail of him because it feels like eternity has passed since you last saw him. You can still picture his full lips, moustache, and light stubble, which tickle just right when he is tucked in between your legs. You can also picture his brown, gentle eyes that get dark with lust, his brown hair that is so lovely to pull, and his aquiline nose.

And your craving feels insatiable at this very moment.

It is no simple carnal desire. It stretches far beyond that; it’s a desire to hold close, to have and appreciate the one constant you’ve had throughout your life. You want him to understand everything about you lately, and you want to apologize, to be held in his arms again.

You wonder what he’ll wear tonight. Those tightly fit jeans that make your eyes follow his silhouette around? Paired with his trademark leather jacket, perhaps? Chances are yes, but regardless of what he’ll be wearing, you’ll be eyeing him up and down still. Waiting, wondering, craving.

You carefully place the bottle of wine in the gift bag, grab your purse and hit the road, taking a cab. You reason that since there will be drinking during the party, you will undoubtedly require a ride home.

There’s more people on the street like never before, and you know well the reason why. You’ve never seen people in town be happier. All they’ve done was be subjugated and barely allowed to mourn their loved ones, and naturally, now that Escobar’s reign of terror was over, people felt a little more confident walking on the streets after dark. There was a new threat, namely the Cali cartel that was rapidly rising to power, but for now, the people could be allowed to celebrate.

“Aquí estamos, señora.”

You struggle to ignore the fact that the driver addressed you as “ma’am” as you pay the driver and proceed to Connie and Steve’s apartment. You recall your encounter with Javier the last time you were there, as well as the unexpectedly pleasurable events that ensued.

When you knock on the door, you hear the music booming from beyond it, and the indistinct chit-chatter of those already present. You’ve made it an hour and a half later than the agreed upon hour, but it seems you arrived right on time. When Steve opens and welcomes you in, you already see Connie and Sofia giggling next to the couch, their cheeks crimson-flushed; Trujillo is there as well, immersed into a conversation with one of the FBI guys, Hugo, and finally—

“Hi,” Javier greets you, barely able to hold your glare.

“Hi,” you reply.

Unbeknownst to you, Connie makes a shocked face somewhere in the back, immediately joining Steve.

“Whoa!” he exclaims, examining the bottle of wine you brought. “This is an expensive brand.”

“Well, I got the money for it.”

“Did you rob a bank or—?”

You chuckle. “We have the same job.”

“Yeah, but nobody joins the DEA for the financial benefits.”

“I don’t really go out or buy things, so I thought you should have something nice.”

“Very much appreciated.”

He gives you another hug before expressing pain as Connie snatches his arm and turns him in her direction.

“Are you insane?!” she whispers maddened.

You have enough decency to pretend like you don’t hear them, even though you already know the reason for all the hush-hush business.

“Ow!” Steve whispers back. “What?”

“You invited both of them tonight?! There’s gonna be a bloodbath in here!”

“I told her Javi’s gonna be here, she said it’s fine. They’re grownups, they can handle it.”

“Yeah, but—“

“I double checked with her, it’s fine!”

“Uh, excuse me,” you smile at them, “not to burst your little bubble, you’re doing great at hiding in it, but I’m fine. We’re here to celebrate Steve’s birthday and the fact that he and Trujillo ended Escobar, so that’s what we will do.”

Connie squeezes your hand, smiling at you just as Sofia joins your side and clings to your arm.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Connie offers.

When you make eye contact with Javier, on complete mishap, you quiver.

“Please,” you tell her, and both the girls giggle.

That’s exactly what you do: you hold your wine in one hand while, ostensibly, holding Sofia close to you in the other. Her flushed cheeks and the warmth that emanates from her and onto you are both indicators that she is already tipsy.

“Are you okay?” you ask her, somewhat amused.

“We finally get to relax a bit,” she exhales. “I am ready to kick back, drink and have fun.”

You suddenly recall the last time you went out with Sofia and she said the same expression, more or less, and you stifle your giggle.

“Just mind which palate cleanser you pick tonight,” you seemingly warn. “There’s four guys here tonight, and one of them is spoken for.”

Connie raises her brows, exchanging a surprised look with Sofia. They both stare at your afterwards. “What about Javi?” Sofia asks.

“What about him?”

“Oh, please! You’ve been here for two minutes and he cannot stop staring at you!” Connie practically laughs. “And you’re sneaking glances at him, too! Would you just quit this nonsense and talk it out? I know it’s been rough between you two, but I think—“

“Speaking of which, whatever happened with you and Javi? I never found out,” Sofia says with an adorable pout grazing her lips. “It’s unfair.”

You hesitate for a brief moment, unsure if you should go around spreading such a personal affair to people, but you’ve grown close to Sofia. You know you can trust her. Besides, what does it matter now? The deed is consumed.

And the worst is over.

“As it turns out, my dad was working for Escobar and, during one of the earlier missions, three years ago, Javier killed him. He was following Carrillo’s orders, and my dad was… ruthless. He had no choice. And he did the right thing.”

Sofia nods along your story, taking the occasional sip from her wine, while Connie reaches around your shoulders to hug you.

“That’s—a lot,” Sofia concludes. “I’m so sorry to hear that, I—“

“It’s fine. Really. I was never close with either him or my mom, so. No harm, no foul. Definitely no real loss.”

Both of them hug you, and Javier catches the scene unfold from across the room. The moment tugs at his heart, making him feel like someone’s dragging it through gravel. He respects your personal space and he does his absolute best to keep his distance from you, and that is no easy task.

You’re… fuck. You’re as gorgeous as ever. The makeup, the way those jeans embrace your legs and your ass, the way you’re stealing the occasional glance down his way… fuck, fuck, fuck. He’s on the verge of a breakdown, and the fact that you are essentially forbidden fruit makes it all the more enticing.

But he meant it. He won’t go near you, not unless you want him to.

By the looks of it, you might never want to. You’re mentally throwing daggers at him just with your eyes. Who knows what will happen if you’ll truly be in his vicinity?

“So you’re really okay being here tonight?” Sofia checks with you.

“I’m fine. And even if I weren’t, thank goodness for alcohol.”

“Yeah, that’s what you need right now, alcohol.”

You frown at the sarcastic remark. “What do you mean?”

“Tension is thick as hell. Simmer down with the alcohol, babe.”

You turn to Connie instead, but you find her nodding along.

“There’s no tension, I said I’m fine.”

“I don’t think that’s the kind of tension she meant,” Connie clarifies.

You take a deep breath, the air nearly choking you instead. You reckon they are both right. You feel it in the depths your bones; each time you catch a glimpse of Javier on the other side of the room, it stirs something inside of you that is absolutely unhinged and needy.

However, tonight is not the time to share with Javier all of your most personal, inner thoughts and feelings. Tonight is about Steve and his significant professional achievement, which you will celebrate with your coworkers and friends. Rest is not urgent.

You move around, talking to everyone; Steve, Sofia, Connie, Trujillo, even Hugo and one of Connie’s friends from work, Maria. Two hours, four glasses of wine, two of whiskey and two shots of tequila later, you are drunk enough to let your intrusive thoughts win.

You were right. Keeping your eyes off Javier was impossible, even more so when he’s wearing exactly what you had predicted, and seemingly got a haircut, too. Fuck. You had to remember, with each step you take, that you are not in the right state of mind for a confrontation, or even a sincere conversation. All you want right now is to be alone with him, but this is not the time or place for it.

You have to keep it together.

You finish laughing at one of Trujillo’s jokes and head to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water. You need some clearance of mind. You’re already drunker than you would’ve thought.

A gasp escapes past your lips when you bump into Javier’s chest, some water spilling on the floor. You stare wide-eyed at him, holding your breath. He seems to be doing the same, and it’s baffling you.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

“Here.”

He hands you a tissue to clean the dribbling water on your jaw, but when you fail to take it, he dabs it gently on your skin, eyes focused on the task at hand and thus failing to notice your own, searching his in return.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

“I should—go.”

You catch his wrist, and you manage to see the bewildered expression on his face. He clearly hadn’t expected it, but he’s not pulling away. He doesn’t ask you anything. He simply watches you, utterly enthralled and disarmed, curious as to what your next move is.

You don’t say anything either. You stare at each other for what feels like the longest time, the only thing you are capable of hearing are his irregular breaths, as well as your own. The music’s vibration reverberates through you still, the alcohol swimming carelessly through your veins as your inhibitions drop drastically. Each glance you steal at Javier makes your stomach churn even more, and you could not possibly hate yourself more for craving him more than you do right at this very moment.

He looks so damn fine it’s nearly painful. Especially with that worried look on his face, those big, brown eyes gone soft at the simple sight of you, it’s—it’s too much. It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt in weeks, but ironically, the most tense you’ve felt in who knows how long.

You need some relief. Badly.

Tonight, of all nights, you know that falling apart on your own hand won’t be enough. Your fingers desperately trying to recreate Javier’s grip and subsequent touch has proven to not be enough in the past, and certainly not the same. While you’ve barely addressed him since you got here nearly four hours ago and he hasn’t either, the tension has grown to be painfully thick.

With the right stimulus, Javier could be easily persuaded. You just have to push the right button.

You take his hand into his, and Javier holds his breath, unable to think anymore. That simple gesture makes him crumble on the spot. What’s more worrisome is the fact that he would follow you blindly anywhere, and he’s known this ever since college.

It takes him a while to realize you’re both in what’s probably the guest bedroom in Connie and Steve’s apartment. You shut the door behind you, giving him a glare that’s longing, and borderline aching. Javier licks his lower lip, still curious as to what your next move is, even though he can clearly see that you’ve been drinking.

Before he gets in a word edgewise, you blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

“I’m sorry.”

Javier looks bewildered at you, waiting for something more. He’s painfully aware of the fact that you’re still holding his hand and it doesn’t make things any easier.

“For what?” he asks, truly confused.

“Last time we spoke, I—I said something I shouldn’t have. I hurt you, I didn’t—“

You finally feel how drunk you truly are, and that’s probably why you’re so emotional right now, tears stinging your eyes, but you don’t care. This is long overdue, and you both need this. You both deserve it.

“I didn’t wanna hurt you,” you say. “I mean I did, but… I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t. Don’t be. I deserved it.”

“No. I wasn’t gonna do this now, or here… but I can’t… I can’t not do it. I can’t stay away from you. I lashed out, I overreacted, I know, I—“

Javier lets go of your hand only to grab your shoulders, so gently you could cry on the spot. “You reacted the way anyone would.”

You frantically shake your head as you look at him with the same desperation in your eyes and hunger for understanding and forgiveness for all of your transgressions.

“No, you don’t get it,” you try not to slur your words. “I didn’t even know him. It was some… sick, twisted illusion, but… he wasn’t there. Neither was my mom. They were never there. The only constant that I’ve ever known was my grandma… and you.”

He coos your name, in the same soft manner, and it doesn’t help you one bit. If anything, it incites you even further, creating a more chaotic concoction of chemicals and emotions inside of you.

“You’re the only one who got me,” you go on. “Ever. You’re the only who—you’re the only thing I want. The only one. And I cannot, for the life of me, stay away from you. It’s—worrying. Worrisome? Worry?”

Javier grins a little, unable to hide his admiration for how cute you look after a few drinks.

“We do have a tendency to revolve around each other,” he seemingly agrees.

“Well obviously! I mean… just look at me!”

The look in his eyes is something along the lines of I am unable to look away from you, but you are too drunk to pick up on that.

“I obviously got both mommy and daddy issues, and the other issue is that I am hopelessly and annoyingly in love with you!”

With the music still blasting in the background, Javier could’ve easily blamed that for mishearing you. His heart is fluttering in his chest, threatening to burst out at any given moment.

He coos your name again, a sudden craving emerging in his voice’s undertone, and that you pick up on.

“Javier,” you coo in return. “I do, you know? I do love you.”

“Don’t—don’t do this to me.”

“What?”

You notice he’s keeping his eyes closed, attempting to hide whatever inner battle is going on inside of him, yet you only approach him further, if even possible. You need to have him as close as possible after all of that time apart.

“Don’t do this to me now, here,” he repeats. “I can’t—don’t tempt me.”

Javier’s so close now you can count of all his eyelashes, his warm breath tickling your face—and your senses alike.

“I want you,” you say, and it’s consuming you just to say the words. “Please? Please.”

The more he says your name, the more he calls out to you, making it impossible for you to resist. It’s temptation at its finest, wrapped in the most alluring package you have ever laid your eyes upon.

Which is why you don’t think twice when your hand traces on his chest, tantalizingly slow for someone who’s not so coordinated right now, and reaches at the back of his head to pull him in, just as your lips meet with his. It feels like it’s been far too long since you’ve had a proper taste of him, and you crumble right then and there. You fall apart in his mouth as the kiss deepens, with Javier’s body pressed against the door. Both your brains are scrambled with desire, fogged up and unable to think straight.

Heat runs through your body, blood boiling in your veins when Javier’s hands grab your hips and pull you in closer, gluing your body to his. Your arms are both around his neck, your mouth slowly devouring his, and vice versa. You decide to get a bit bolder as you separate to draw in more air into your lungs, and start unbuttoning his shirt. Your vision’s blurry but your fingers know your way around his body better than anything. You’re surprised when his fingers catch yours and put a stop to your torture.

“We shouldn’t,” he tells you, although there is a huge knot in his throat that nearly makes him choke.

“Javier, please. I miss you, I miss… feeling you.”

God, he cannot resist you. He simply can’t. There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you, but the moment isn’t what he’d prefer for your reunion.

He takes your hands into his, holding them close to his chest, now teasingly exposed to you, and looks at you like he’s having the toughest battle inside of his head.

“Don’t take this to mean I don’t want to,” he tells you, and he genuinely sounds like he’s falling apart. “Believe me, I—I do. I’d slide inside you and make you cum as many times as I possibly can. I’d fuck you until tomorrow, till you can’t walk properly and you’re dripping with me.”

Breathless, your eyes drop to his neck, thinking how much you’d love to hear him moan under the weight of your fiery kisses.

“You—can,” you tell him.

“You’re upset and you’re drunk. It’s not right.”

You frown like a child being denied its favorite treat. You hate how reasonable he is, and how sweet he’s being.

“Do you know that being sweet about it makes it worse?”

“How?”

“Because now I want you more.”

Javier chuckles, admitting that deciding to stay apart from you is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, particularly when you’re asking him so nicely, your voice calling him out like a siren ready to devour her prey. You’re not having the best night, so his choice is the proper thing to do. Succumbing to your sweetly enunciated craving would have been a treat if you had been sober and, let’s face it, still a little angry with him. Given how upset and frustrated he’s been, he would not have hesitated to fuck you right then and there, but seeing how difficult it is for you to stand up straight tells him that he is undoubtedly making the correct decision.

“How about I take you home? Is that okay?” he checks.

You nod and he takes your hand in his, guiding you out of the bedroom, searching for your jacket. You both bid goodbye to everyone present, and Javier figures there will be plenty of talk about that, but he doesn’t care. He cares about you, and getting you home safe is his number one priority.

“Oh, oh,” you mumble, threatening to buckle over. You close your eyes in order to embrace the fall, but then, all you feel is warmth and softness.

You look up and see Javier’s face close again, realizing moments later you’re in his arms and he’s placing you carefully in the backseat of his Jeep.

“You good?” he asks.

You nod, but before he lets you stretch in the backseat, you pull him by the jacket’s collar and press your lips on his again. It’s softer this time, a sign of gratitude that Javier fully embraces this time.

The ride back to your place is smooth and silent, though you did fall asleep several times. You only wake up when you’re in Javier’s arms again, swiftly realizing he’s carrying you on the stairs to the apartment.

“Where are your keys?” he asks.

You smile mischievously, licking your lips and staring at him in the most adorable way he’s ever seen in anyone.

“Guess you’ll have to frisk me to find out,” you giggle.

Javier rolls his eyes, bemused. “Don’t think I won’t do it.”

“I’m hoping you will. It’s the most action I got in a while.”

Javier puts you down closer to the wall to ensure you got some balance in you. He checks your jacket first, mind preoccupied.

“Honestly, me too,” he says out of the blue.

It takes you a good minute to understand what he’s telling you, and when realization hits you, it carries no shortage of surprise.

“Wait, seriously?” you ask.

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’re—you. You’re great in bed, you have your lady friends…”

Your eyes meet his again, and his seem filled with regret. Suddenly, your stomach drops, and you wish you hadn’t asked that because you feel a wave of jealousy washing over you.

“Did you—?” you start, and halfway through acknowledge the fact that you cannot finish the question.

“No,” he quips sharply. “I thought it’s what I needed, something meaningless and fast, but it wasn’t.”

He recalls the exact moment when he came home to Gabriella, her smile and excitement visible in her body language. He also recalls how he excused himself to her, explained the situation, and offered to drive her back home. He recalls the apology he issued for making her drive across town for nothing, and her advice to him as she bid him goodbye for good.

Fight for her.

“What do you need then?”

He feels starved as he looks at you, eyes darkened by that lust that always drove you both past the edges of sanity and professionalism.

“Didn’t I make it clear back at the party?” he grazes his thumb over your bottom lip, and for the briefest of seconds, you feel a different kind of drunk. “Tú. Sólo tú, cariño.”

Only you, honey.

“I guess this means taking a raincheck on that ‘fucking you till tomorrow’ business?”

It’s a silly question, laced with a dangerous playfulness, but if there’s anyone who loves that, it’s Javier.

His fingers graze your cheek delicately, turning you to look at him, and God it hurts to keep your legs together from how overstimulated you feel.

“Whatever you need, you can have it,” he whispers. “Anything, everything. But sober.”

You kiss him again, and again, and until you run out of breath, until the only scent invading your nostrils is his cologne and him, musky and earthy and home-like.

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janetbrown711 · 1 year

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A Sadness Runs Through Him

Pigsy confronts his feelings of guilt around his past, and more importantly, around Sandy-- though it takes a panic attack or two before he's really ready.

tw for PTSD, panic attacks, past murder, and brief mentions of suicidal thoughts.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Ao3 Link

Moving.

A task universally hated by all those involved, especially if they happen to be of pig-demon descent and also run a noodle restaurant.

While the apartment came pre-furnished, Pigsy still had to think of a way to bring his own pots, pans, spices and everything else he knew either wouldn't be provided or wouldn't be how he liked it. And that meant planning.

And if Pigsy was bad at one thing, it was planning– the only reason he was good at planning out his restaurant was because his grandmother helped set up and regulate everything for the first two years. Even when she died, she left him a bunch of resources to help the transition.

He was grateful, but his grandmother couldn't help him now.

"Sir? I've been ringing this bell for five minutes!" A huffy woman clutched her purse and tapped her foot as Pigsy realized he had been spacing out again over his "moving plans" paper– which was blank, obviously.

“Sorry– what’s your order?” Pigsy asked, and the women huffed in content.

“She wants the Liangpi! I heard her while she was on the phone!” MK called from where he was mopping two feet away– Pigsy and the woman’s faces both instantly turned red.

“Kid– what did I tell you about yelling in the restaurant?” Pigsy glanced apologetically at the woman before looking at MK.

“...Don’t?” MK scratched his head.

“Yeah kid, don’t,” Pigsy sighed, punching in the order. “71.54 yuan.”

“You know you really shouldn’t have kids here if you can’t keep them or your restaurant in order,” She snipped as she handed him her credit card.

Pigsy didn’t have the energy for this.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he faked the biggest forced smile he could and handed her the receipt and card back with force.

She continued to mutter under her breath as she took a seat at a table, and Pigsy got to cooking again.

He was able to go into autopilot in an instant, so his mind naturally wandered to the subject of moving again.

It was so high up and there would be a good amount of boxes– Pigsy wanted to avoid going down to the lobby to gather his things as much as possible, but at the same time he really didn’t want to hire a moving team either since it wasn’t like it was too much– just– things. Nah– Pigsy could handle the stares, he was grown. It was fine, a-okay. Totally cool– like– uh– ice, ice cool?

Pigsy needed to stop letting the kids watch TV.

Pigsy got to slicing the beef for her dish before all he really had to do was wait, and so he went to rinse the knife in the sink, when suddenly a familiar green flash ran right past him– causing Pigsy to fall back and almost drop the knife.

“KID-!” He barked, but was ignored by the girl climbing onto the counter and leaning beyond the outdoor bar.

“Hi Mister Tang!!!” She called and waved excitedly, and Pigsy could hear his familiar laugh from a bit aways.

“Kid– get down from there– you nearly gave me a heart attack,” Pigsy took a deep breath and shook off the scare before going to rinse off that knife like he had meant to. Mei still didn’t listen, continuing to wave until Tang was at the outdoor bar.

“Hey kiddo, what’s up?” Tang said, stepping through the door, which was the key to finally getting Mei down from there.

"I helped Mr. Piggy make today's noodles," she beamed with pride and Tang gave the chef a surprised look.

“Did he now?” He asked Pigsy more than Mei.

“Kid was practically begging yesterday– ‘sides, she learns fast,” Pigsy informed, done with rinsing and returning the knife to its proper place and checking on how everything else was cooking.

“I did a really good job,” Mei informed the scholar who laughed fondly.

“I can’t wait to try them,” Tang smiled, opening his laptop as he did every day.

“Thanks! I’d help more, but Mr. Piggy here says that it’s ‘too dangerous’,” Mei shook her head and got out of the kitchen to sit next to the scholar.

“I’m not wrong,” Pigsy rolled his eyes a little.

Mei didn’t say anything, but the chef knew she was sticking out her tongue at him.

“Mr. Pigsy knows what he’s talking about, Mei,” Tang sympathized with the girl, who now flopped onto the bar dramatically.

After a bit though, Tang added with a whisper, “though he can be kinda mean about it, huh?”, which sent Mei into a giggling fit.

More looks from customers. Especially that one lady.

"Yeah, Mr. Piggy is kinda mean," The girl laughed a bit more.

Pigsy gripped his ladle tight and continued to stir.

After a deep breath, Pigsy was able to completely tune out his surroundings, moving like the well oiled machine he was. Add a little bit of ginger, slice some mushrooms, check the noodles, pour it in a bowl, add the garnish and voila.

“Order for Wu Lian,” the chef called out, ringing the bell and placing the bowl on the counter before going to start Tang’s dish next.

Everything went silent again, as he carefully chopped onions and added just the right amount of ginger to the pot and began to stir– which was when he realized the bell was ringing incessantly in the background, forcing Pigsy to snap himself out of this.

“Yes..?” He asked.

It was the lady again.

“I found a hair in my noodles,” The lady frowned and crossed her arms.

I…is she serious? Pigsy had nary a hair on his chinny chin chin since– ever really (except that one time he attempted a mustache in the military but he didn’t like to think about that).

“Y…you aren’t serious, are you ma’am?” Tang spoke up for Pigsy.

“Do I look like I’m joking here? This is serious stuff– my husband works in the Health Department and I could call him right now to inform all of your customers that this– this demon is trying to poison us!” She raised her voice to get the other customers' attention.

Pigsy thought of a reply– something huffy and quick– but when he tried to speak, his tongue was heavy and a strange sensation washed over him and he felt disconnected.

Tang must’ve noticed, because he continued to speak for him. “Yeah, sure, call him over– I’d love to see you try and explain how the hair from a bald pig demon got into your noodles.”

“Ha! I’m sure this place is a real pigsty back there– so either remake the noodles, or I’ll call,” She finished her sentence with a big phony smile.

Tang clearly ran out of ideas, and now all eyes were on the chef, who was still standing around, almost watching himself and waiting to see what he’d do as well.

“Get out.”

Looks like he was going authoritative.

Wu Lian gasped. “Well– I never– my husband will be here so fast– I will just–”

“Get. Out.”

The woman scoffed again. “You demons are all the same-! Oh just you wait– I will sue you so hard and then you’ll see– you’ll see,” she continued her proclamations as she walked outside.

“...Pigsy? Are you okay?” Tang asked.

Pigsy shook his head in an attempt to feel connected to himself again.

“I’m fine. Just thinking about moving and stuff,” He waved it off and went to make sure none of Tang’s food burned.

“That lady was very mean,” MK set down the mop against the bar and sat on one of the stools.

“She was,” Mei agreed, crossing her arms.

“She was– but what do you mean moving,” Tang briefly acknowledged the two of them before returning his focus to Pigsy.

“We’re moving into a big ole penthouse uptown,” Mei informed.

“Ooh, you found a place?” Tang asked.

“Yeah– I just gotta plan how to carry everything at once,” Pigsy huffed as he continued slicing green onions.

“I can totally help-! I-if you need it– What day would you be moving?” Tang immediately offered.

“Tomorrow!” MK said excitedly.

“Tomorrow?! Pigsy! Why didn’t you think to ask for help sooner?!” Tang sounded genuinely baffled, which was a little funny to the chef.

“Tang, it’s fine– like I said, I can manage,” Pigsy shook his head, adding the onions to the pot and stirring.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you need to.”

Pigsy poured Tang’s noodles into a bowl, taking a deep breath before eventually nodding, going over to serve him as he said “Fine– fine, just… Yes, you can help.”

Tang smiled that stupid smile he always had, with its stupid little tilt before he grabbed chopsticks and began eating.

“I can show you how I fit under the sink!” MK pointed out, kicking his legs excitedly.

“Yeah! And I can show you the cool TV! And Mr. Piggy can show you his bedroom!”

Tang choked on his noodles and Pigsy felt his heart stop.

.o0o.

Yeah, the lady was totally bluffing about the phone call, no health inspector ever came, and even if they did Pigsy knew he’d pass.

The rest of the night had gone without a hitch, though Tang did have to leave earlier than usual, which meant it got quiet pretty quickly. The good part to that was that it meant Pigsy was comfortable with the idea of closing early for once in his life, and so they all got to bed at a not-so-shitty hour.

Pigsy still fucking despised his alarm’s painful tone the following morning, of course. Especially because it was set even earlier than average so Pigsy could go get the moving truck from the rental place– though not without waiting for Tang to arrive so he could watch over MK and Mei (which was something he realized he hadn’t quite thought about before).

Once that was settled, and Pigsy checked in with Tang to make sure the kids ate, they got to putting the dozen or so boxes into the truck downstairs and it was go time.

Now… let it be known that Pigsy was a law-abiding citizen most every single day. He understood and had great respect for the rules of the road.

However…

The truck only had two, maybe three seats if you think you can place someone in the middle.

And so Pigsy drove, Tang sat in shotgun, and MK and Mei… Well, MK’s skill of fitting under the pipes was put to use in the space under the glovebox, and Mei was managing fine in that “middle seat”.

Look– neither Pigsy nor Tang owned a car and calling a cab seemed like a dumb idea so— it’s what they had.

“We are so going to get pulled over,” Pigsy muttered to himself as he got onto the main road.

“It was your idea,” Tang said.

“Hey– that’s my face,” MK giggled from the floor of the vehicle.

“Sorry MK,” Tang apologized and readjusted himself.

“I know! I know! I just–�� Pigsy sighed. “It’s fine. We’re fine.”

Pigsy could feel the look Tang was giving him burning on his skin, but he kept on driving anyway.

Green Light.

“Pigsy–”

“I’m fine, Tang. You’re right. Sorry,” Pigsy shot. Tang raised his hands in his defense but didn’t say much so silence filled the truck momentarily.

This, however, was shattered instantly when Mei asked, “Mr. Piggy, what’s ‘booba’?”, which startled Pigsy so much it affected his steering.

“W-well, that’s– uh– hmm– that’s–” Pigsy tried to think of a response, but words were unable to form as his heart started to pound.

“It’s pronounced bow-ba, n-not… that way,” Tang touched Pigsy’s arm lightly while speaking to Mei. “And it’s a type of tea drink with tapioca pearls– it was big in the 90s, not so much right now.”

Green Light.

A car behind Pigsy honked at him for his sporadic driving and Pigsy wished he could give him a piece of his mind. The car gave him the opportunity as they switched lanes just to cut in front, to which Pigsy almost responded by flipping them off, but Tang put the hand down and gestured to Mei and MK with his head.

Yellow Light.

Pigsy sighed as he pumped the brakes to a halt, annoyed at both the difficulty of the action due to the truck’s age, and slightly annoyed Tang didn’t let him flip off the other driver. He was made even more annoyed though when the previously mentioned car made it past the intersection.And somehow even worse, another car behind him honked at him, and needless to say Pigsy was starting to feel his blood boil.

“Mr. Piggy, why are they honking at you?” MK asked from under the glovebox.

Pigsy rubbed his forehead as the car finally halted. It wasn’t like he was a piss poor driver, he just… hadn’t been on the road since– a while– but it was fine, everything was fine. If only he could actually fucking tell MK that, but whatever.

Tang took a glance at the mute chef and decided to handle that too. “Well, MK, some drivers are… mean.”

Mean.

Mei laughed, “Mr. Piggy’s mean too– maybe that’s why.”

Red light.

Blood instantly began pounding in Pigsy’s ears, his grip on the steering wheel causing his knuckles to turn white. Tang was saying something but Pigsy was just watching the light– the red one– the one on the right. He was going to drive straight ahead and he was in the front of his lane. He wasn’t going to be mean, he was going to be attentive and then everything would be fine and they’d all get there on time and they’d be all moved in and everything would just be so fucking fine.

Still red.

A hand attempted to touch his shoulder, which made Pigsy jump. Tang said something while Mei spoke even quieter behind him. Pigsy didn’t care– he was so fucking focused on driving. It didn’t matter that it felt like he’d walked up fifteen flights of stairs, Pigsy was doing what he was supposed to and he was doing it fine. He was fine, everything was so goddamn fine it was like they were at the apartment already. Sure he wasn’t nice, he was never nice. Who gives a shit if you reach your location anyways? He didn’t need to be loved. He didn’t even need to be liked. He was fine. This was fine. He deserved this anyways.

Green light.

Pigsy immediately began driving again, trying to stop his eyes from darting in every direction as hazards and sounds made themselves very present in his overstimulated ears. Especially the people in the car.The ones he was responsible for. The ones he wasn’t supposed to fail or let anything bad happen to. Was that a siren? Pigsy couldn’t think about that right now. Driving. Obeying the law to hide breaking it.

Green light.

Almost there now, just a few more blocks. Just don’t have a fucking heart attack and kill everyone in this vehicle because if you end up responsible for their deaths, you’ll never forgive yourself. What happened to Hai Xin is your fault. You remember how happy Sandy was. How in love he was. You remember your military friends too. Gone, shell of himself, gone, murdered, murdered, dead, dead, dead, dead, fucking dead.

“Pigsy–”

You didn’t go to court that day. You couldn’t stand looking at him. You still can’t. You broke him. You destroyed his life. You are beyond mean, you are cruel– violent– explosive– hideous– revolting–

“PIGSY– WATCH OUT–!”

The screeching of tires sent Pigsy out of his spiral as he slammed the brakes with full force, and the red light runner barely avoided a full-on collision. Everyone lurched forward, but Tang kept Mei from flying into the dash board. In a breath, Pigsy was able to pull off to the side, where he immediately parked, grabbed the pack of cigarettes and lighter in the cupholder, and got out of the car, ignoring Tang’s confused calls (not that he understood them anyways).

Pigsy walked.

He walked and walked and walked until he found himself a suitable bench by the–

Of course he was by the goddamn pier.

When Pigsy started to feel himself choke on the lump rapidly forming in his throat, he lit a cigarette and took a nice, long drag. His eyes tingled at the sensation as the usual sting filled his senses, but he was used to it. It was relaxing. Pigsy was relaxed right now. Especially with the ocean waves. Especially knowing Sandy probably doesn’t live too far from here– that he and–

Pigsy took another drag before he could think more. Again, calm washed over his body as the hot air flowed through him, giving him an addictive peace of mind.

“Pigsy? Pigsy, where are you?”

Tang was calling for him.

Pigsy didn’t care. He kept on inhaling the toxic fumes.

“Pigsy? P– Pigsy-!” Tang found him and immediately ran to the bench.

“Pigsy, A-are you okay? You were–”

“Fuck off, Tang,” Pigsy looked away from him, silencing Tang instantly.

“I… what?” The scholar stepped back. “Pigsy, what is going on? Why are you acting like this?”

Pigsy’s eyes were tired and sore as he unwillingly glanced at the ships on the docks, wondering if any of them belonged to Sandy or he managed to leave this shithole for good and leave him behind.

Another breath.

Tang sat down on the bench. “I… didn’t think you smoked.”

Exhale.

“Sometimes. What’s it matter to you?” Pigsy now looked at the ground, the brightness of the morning sun against the ocean waves hurting his eyes even more than the cigarette smoke.

“Pigsy,” Tang warned.

“What?” Pigsy grunted, still refusing to look at him.

“Pigsy– just– stop–! Stop acting like you don’t know that the kids and I care about you so just– tell me what’s wrong-! What happened back there? Please– I need answers– we need answers,” Tang grabbed his arm, and Pigsy finally looked at him.

…

Fear.

Tang had overwhelming fear in his eyes.

“I… I don’t know…” Pigsy was as honest as he could be, flicking his cigarette.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Tang asked, his voice low and soft. Pigsy shook his head, taking a drag.

“I don’t know, Tang. I just– I guess it started yesterday– I just– I keep losing control of myself– it’s like I’m just watching myself and feel like my hearts just all– tense and weird and shit and it’s all at the same time– I dunno,” Pigsy knew how stupid he sounded but it was the best he had.

“Oh, a panic attack,” Tang nodded to himself. “Is… that also what happened yesterday?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know, Tang,” Pigsy rubbed his eyes.

“Hey, that’s okay,” His customer got a little closer to the chef and wrapped an arm around the bench, his hand slightly hovering over Pigsy’s back. “Do you know what might’ve triggered it?”

Pigsy shifted uncomfortably, taking a long drag as he tried to and then immediately tried to ignore the possibilities.

“Pigsy, you have to tell me so I can help– because I do know a little bit about these things and– yeah I’m no ‘expert’ or anything but– I want to help,” Tang pleaded with the pig again.

Pigsy leaned back, releasing smoke before he closed his eyes and sighed. “I… god, it sounds so stupid but– I think… If I had to guess, then it was when the kid said I was…mean,” Pigsy mumbled that last word, but Tang understood.

“What? But Mei didn’t–”

“You think I don’t know that?!” Pigsy turned to him sharply, smoke flaring out of his nose (which had the fun side effect of making the chef’s head spin).

“R-right– Sorry,” Tang quickly apologized. “I’m sorry she said that– and I’m sorry I encouraged it.”

“Sorry for snapping,” Pigsy sighed and went back to looking at the ocean. If it didn’t remind him of his crushing guilt, Pigsy would find it calming.

“If… you don’t mind me asking… Why does that upset you so much?” Tang looked at the ocean briefly too.

Pigsy’s cigarette was just about done, so he put it on the ground and smothered it with his foot before grabbing and lighting another, all while Tang watched on, his expression unreadable.

“Because it’s… You’re gonna deny it, but I know that I’m not exactly ‘nice’ and you are and it just– I try to convince myself I can do this but every time I hear something like that it just reminds me of how much of an asshole I am or have been– and then I think about when I was in the military– and then I think about Sandy a-and–” the lump in his throat returned, so Pigsy choked it with smoke.

“Oh– Sandy…” Tang nodded slowly. “You… never told me what the deal with him is.”

“That’s a good thing.”

“Right…” Tang took a deep breath, before clearing his throat a bit.

“Look,” he started. “You’ve already told me a lot today, and it’s not like I can force you to tell me anything anyways– just know that– yeah, it sounds really really stupid and obvious, but you shouldn’t keep all these emotions and past feelings to yourself– it’s not– uh– healthy.”

“Yeah, I know,” Pigsy said flatly, flicking his cigarette once again.

“And whatever you tell me, I promise I won’t le–”

“Don’t.”

Tang blinked. “Pigsy–”

“Don’t. You don’t know–”

“Then tell me, so I can know and I can make that decision for myself.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Pigsy, you don’t have to tell me anything, but I can’t keep watching you torture yourself forever,” Tang placed his hand atop Pigsy’s and gave it a squeeze.

Pigsy rubbed Tang’s hand with his thumb, the embrace warmer than the pollution in his lungs and throat. He then looked into Tang’s heavenly brown eyes, and remembered all the promises he had made the day after they had kissed. About not hurting him– especially on purpose.

Get your shit together, Pigsy.

“...Later. Maybe after we get everything settled in the apartment.”

Tang squeezed his hand even more. “Good.”

When they stood, Pigsy was filled with an overwhelming desire to hug or kiss him, but ultimately smothered his cigarette before stoically heading back to the truck.

However, the pair came to a halt when they heard panicked whispers coming from behind a trash can, and when Pigsy went to look, surprise surprise, MK and Mei had been spying on them.

“Hi Mr. Piggy,” MK waved, before smelling the smoke and making a face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah kid– I’m sorry for scaring the both of you– I lost myself a bit back there,” Pigsy scratched the back of his neck.

MK winced at that, but Mei hugged him, which startled the chef.

“A-are you okay kid?” was the only thing Pigsy could think to say.

“I-I’m really sorry I made you run away– I-i won’t do it again, promise!” Mei said, looking up at him with desperate eyes.

“Hey now,” Pigsy broke her embrace to get on his knees and placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault I got… scared. It’s just something that happens to me sometimes– I’ll work on it, I swear. Don’t stress yourself.”

“Okay Mr. Piggy,” Mei nodded slowly before hugging him again, this time around his neck since he was level with her. Not knowing what else to do, Pigsy returned the embrace, almost startled by how comforting it was. Soon enough MK joined in too, and Pigsy felt like he was almost going to cry.

He hadn’t had a hug this good since his grandmother was in good health.

“C-c’mon, let’s get to our new place, hm?” Pigsy forced himself to break the embrace before he broke down again. The kiddos nodded and they were back in the truck in no time, headed to their (mostly) new hoity-toity lives.

.o0o.

It took roughly two hours to get everything all settled, then unlocked, then transferred from the truck to the apartment, and by then everyone was hungry and so Pigsy used it as an opportunity to look for new local restaurants, frustrated by the overwhelming amount of chains. They eventually found a stupid expensive sit down restaurant and ate there, and while some of the waiters were confused by Pigsy, it was generally okay. They then returned the truck, got boba– not booba– at Mei’s insistence, and when they finally got back to the apartment, MK and Mei went to their rooms to set up what things they had and hopefully not fall asleep until dinner.

And then it was just Tang and Pigsy alone, unpacking his things, which took a lot longer than expected since Pigsy was a terrible planner and the boxes were…disorganized to say the least. It took at least three hours before the two of them were able to reorganize all of the boxes so they had a system they could then work with, and by then the sun was starting to set.

“Woah, nice jacket Pigsy,” Tang whistled as he pulled out a thick brown shearling jacket.

Fuck. Of course it was that jacket– that stupid stupid, really nice jacket from back then. Of course it was– and now He was going to have to talk about… that because he was acting all weird. Great.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

“Yeah, it’s from my time in the military– hence some of the patches– though I… tried to remove most,” Pigsy admitted, hanging up his one dress shirt in the walk-in closet.

“Ah,” was all Tang said. “Still– this is really nice– and I bet you look cute in it,” Tang said, before slapping a hand over his mouth, which made Pigsy laugh.

“Ohmygod I can’t believe I said that out loud,” Tang’s face was rapidly turning red, which just made Pigsy laugh even more.

“It’s alright, Tang,” Pigsy patted his shoulder and took the jacket, examining the folds and stitches in the leather carefully.

“When’s the last time you wore it?” Tang asked innocently.

“B-bajie– I swear I didn’t mean to– I didn’t mean to– It was an accident– I thought sh-she– A-and now– I-i can’t live with myself– Bajie please–”

“...Are you okay Pigsy? Is it the jacket?” Tang asked, and Pigsy realized he was gripping the jacket so tight his knuckles were white again.

“Bajie y-you have to help me– you know I didn’t mean it– I never would– I loved her– I love her– please–”

Pigsy took a deep breath. “Kind of…” he grabbed a hanger and placed it on the rack next to his other jacket.

“O-oh– oh no– I’m so sorry Pigsy– Forget I mentioned it– we aren’t done yet, so let’s just–”

“No… I need to tell you some time tonight and I get the feeling that if I don’t do it now I’ll just try to make myself forget,” Pigsy clenched his eyes shut for a moment, memories of Sandy flashing in his mind.

“Do… you want to go somewhere else?” Tang asked carefully. Pigsy glanced around and thought.

“I could use some fresh air,” He shrugged, referring to the balcony attached to his room, and so the two of them headed out there, both leaning against the railing and taking in the view for a bit first– which was especially gorgeous because of the previously mentioned sunset.

“So…” Pigsy started, though he was quick to realize how hard it was to find the proper words to describe his predicament.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to Pigsy– remember that,” Tang touched his shoulder in assurance.

“I know, I know, but it’s like you said– it ain’t exactly healthy, and you deserve the choice to know what I’ve done and then leave me– it’s unfair to keep you hostage,” Pigsy sighed, the remaining pack of cigarettes sitting heavy in his pants pocket.

“I’m not a hostage here, but whatever helps,” Tang said half jokingly.

“Right– well– um…” Pigsy took another breath. “So… I– well I– I was a really terrible kid, okay? Like– just the definition of a punk who needed a good whack over the head until he got his shit together,” Pigsy started, and though he could see Tang was trying not to judge or interrupt, he was very clearly struggling from his expression alone.

“S-sorry-! Sorry, I’ll try harder not to– express– emotion…” Tang apologized, clearing his throat and trying to set his face to neutral, and Pigsy decided it was best if he just kept his eyes forward for now.

“Well, anyways, I was a little shit and I– I had a friend– Sandy– who I knew through school and– Jesus, he was a real nice guy. Big and tough and scary, but nice deep in there,” Pigsy blinked away images of him to keep his focus. “We were quick to become a duo of punks, though I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was clearly the one who was “influencing him”. His folks were absolutely terrible and all, but he was always more hesitant to start shit than I was.”

Pigsy glanced at Tang, who he confirmed was listening intently. Pigsy took another breath before continuing.

“When we were teens, we got into some steep shit– and being demons and all meant we were set up to be in prison for a long, long, long time… unless…” Pigsy dug his nails into his skin.

“...Unless you joined the military, right?” Tang guessed. Pigsy nodded.

“Since we were little shits of course we took the first opportunity to get out of trouble and wipe our slates clean– but– jesus– W-we made a lot of friends– demon friends, which I guess was our first mistake since it’s basically fact that most demons don’t… make it back from the military too often,” The pig demon’s breath was starting to get shaky so Tang placed a grounding hand on his back and rubbed it soothingly, which did help quite a bit.

“I-i was a real big coward, s-so it’s easy to say more than a few of their deaths are more than likely on my shoulders, you know? I-i mean I know– I know I didn’t get them enlisted, but I just– I didn’t jump on that grenade, I didn’t act fast enough to save Dino or Ace o-or anyone– but all that I-i think I could’ve lived with if…”

The cigarettes were taunting him in his pocket now, as well as the sake in the cabinet. He hated this. He hated every single part of this. He desperately wanted to run or to leap right off this balcony and– No, no. He owed this to Tang.

“When we got back– I-i just wanted to forget it– all of it. Meanwhile Sandy was keen on remembering them all– he even had a little shrine for them in his place– we fought like hell that day– but other than that w-we were okay– well, I thought he was doing okay– he even managed to find himself a-a nice girlfriend–”

Hai Xin.

“Oh, well that’s nice…” Tang said. Pigsy knew it was to try and comfort him, but his words just made Pigsy want to slam down fifty bottles of sake.

“S-she was a saint, l-like how he kinda used to be– she brought out the best of him like that,” Pigsy nodded along, his voice cracking ever so slightly.

“S-she and him– they were gonna get married– it would be in the summer on a boat with the sunset behind them a-and then they were gonna have kids– a bunch of ‘em– Sandy told me and everything– he even asked me to be his best man even before he proposed– it sounded so nice, Tang– he was so happy,” Tears were streaming down the chef’s cheeks now, but when Tang opened his arms for a hug, Pigsy shook his head and continued.

“B-but one n-night I get a-a call… from him, from Sandy– a-and he’s just– he couldn’t stop crying a-a-and apologizing a-and swearing he didn’t m-mean it a-and– he kept swearin’ it was an accident– it took fifty goddamn minutes before he was able to get himself together— a-and– a-and when he did I-i could see why…”

“No…” Tang gasped softly.

“H-he killed her, Tang. The court declared it as PTSD induced violence– a nightmare woke him up and in his confusion h-he attacked her a-and– he was sentenced to prison for five years and court mandated therapy a-and– god– It’s all my fault, Tang– it’s all my fault-!” Pigsy buried his head in his hands and embraced his tears now. “I broke my best friend a-and the love of his life is dead because of me.”

“Oh Pigsy–”

“N-no, because you know what? Th-that’s not even the worst goddamn part-!” Pigsy’s breath hitched before he laughed like a madman. “T-the worst part is that I could even testify for the best, kindest, most loyal friend I’ve ever had in my whole entire fucking life! I-i mean– Jesus, what kind of a friend am I?! F-first I made him a delinquent, almost got him placed into prison, basically force him to join the war which emotionally scars him forever, a-and then when his PTSD takes away what little joy he had, I-i couldn’t even be there for him– and then he went to prison anyways-! This is why you should hate me, Tang– why everyone should hate me– god, I can’t do this–”

Pigsy went to leave, but Tang grabbed his arm and forced him into a tight embrace. Pigsy tried to fight it, but Tang was surprisingly steadfast and kept him in his embrace until he gave up and buried his head into Tang’s chest.

“I’m so sorry Pigsy…” Tang whispered as he stroked his back.

Pigsy wanted to fight that. He was tempted to say, “you have no fucking right to say that” and “you didn’t know them– you should be sorry for them, not me” or even “serves me right” but Pigsy was exhausted, and so let Tang have this one as years of repressed sobs and shakes released themselves onto Tang’s scarf.

“Pigsy, listen… it’s not your f–”

Pigsy snapped right back.

“Tang, don’t.” The pig broke the embrace and tried to wipe his own tears away, but it would’ve been easier to dam up Huangguoshu Waterfall.

“Pigsy–”

“No. I don’t need to hear it– I don’t care– I-i need you to accept it. Denial’ll just hurt both of us– It’s just something I have to fucking live with– you too, i-if you want me.”

If you want me.

Pigsy knew he wouldn’t now.

Tang was silent, his emotions clearly all over the place and Pigsy stood there, feeling like a fucking baby with how many tears were just falling uncontrollably at this rate. Again he thought of the cigarettes in his pocket and the sake in the kitchen, but he decided to wait until after Tang told him he was leaving them– he needed to face the consequences for his cowardice completely sober.

“Okay. I’ll drop it. I’m sorry,” Tang said.

Pigsy blinked. “N-no.”

“No? I just apologized– what’s there to ‘no’?” Tang was genuinely confused.

“I said ‘no’ Tang– y-you’re supposed to be angry-! You’re supposed to hate me– kick me– scream at me– leave me– You aren’t supposed to just– accept this!” Pigsy shouted, nostrils flaring.

“Well I’m not and you can’t make me!” Tang shouted back. “I-i really care about you Pigsy– a-and I meant what I said earlier– I won’t leave because of what you did in the past– all I care about is the here and the now.”

“What kind of a moron are you?!”

“A moron who’s practically been in love with you for a year-!” Tang gestured furiously at himself, though lowered his hands when he realized what he said.

“L-look– what I mean, Pigsy, i-is that… I-i’ve cared about you for a long time, a-and–”

“I didn’t know your name a week ago,” Pigsy cut him off, his hands clenched into fists at his side.

“I don’t care, Pigsy! That’s the thing– I don’t care– I didn’t care when you weirdly had two kids in the back of your restaurant, I didn’t care when you adopted them that day out of the fucking blue, I didn’t care when you went silent as a ghost after I kissed you, I didn’t care when you had a panic attack at the wheel which could’ve almost killed us, I didn’t care when you told me to fuck off, and I sure as hell don’t care now.”

“Why not?!” Pigsy shook his head violently, and Tang grabbed his hands.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot, Pigsy, a-and I meant what I said, I-i– I love you,” The scholar squeezed the chef’s caloused hands tightly, forcing Pigsy to look into his eyes, forced to confront that the man in front of him was telling the truth.

He was telling the truth.

Oh god– what was he supposed to do with that– oh god oh god oh god–

Before Pigsy could overthink and ruin this, he hugged Tang as tight as he could. He didn’t know what his goal was, but he just stood there, holding his favorite customer, never, ever wanting to let go of him. Tang returned the embrace right back, and Pigsy buried his head in his shoulder and the tears came back in an instant.

It took a moment before Pigsy realized Tang was crying too, which made Pigsy hug him tighter and stroke his back in a similar fashion that Tang did earlier.

After a long, long time of standing like that, Pigsy croaked, “I’m so sorry, Tang.”

“Why?”

“I-i… doubt humans are this complicated,” Pigsy half-joked, which made Tang laugh a little.

“I’m not a clean slate entirely either,” He admitted. “But even if that wasn’t true, I wouldn’t mind. You mean a lot to me, Pigsy.”

Pigsy’s shoulders tensed at how much he was sounding like Sandy, but Pigsy wouldn’t ruin this– not right now.

“You mean a lot to me too, Tang. A-and I swear I’ll be everything a-and anything you need in the future– really– I-i–”

The chef would’ve rambled more, but Tang lifted his chin and kissed him.

“All I ask is for your company, and if something’s bothering you, tell me. I’ll help however I can, even if it’s just listening,” Tang smiled softly and Pigsy hugged him again.

“I-i can try that,” The chef whispered and Tang nodded in approval, kissing his forehead which still somehow managed to send butterflies fluttering down the pig demon’s stomach.

“I’ll hold you to it then,” Tang embraced the chef once more.

Once again, the two remained in their caress for a long, long time as cool night air settled over the two of them and their heartbeats became one.

After five minutes, a knock on the sliding door broke their embrace. Pigsy and Tang quickly wiped their eyes before they opened the door and allowed MK to step out.

“Mr. Piggy, I can’t find my uniform,” MK got straight to the point and informed his legal guardian.

Pigsy chuckled tiredly. “We’ll find it later, kid,” he said, ruffling his hair.

“Oh– well– I thought we might wanna find it now since we start school tomorrow.”

Pigsy froze.

“...Kid?”

“Yyyyyyyes Mr. Piggy..?” MK bounced on his heels.

“What day is it?”

“Sunday,” MK happily enformed.

Well… Shit.

The kid was right– tomorrow was their first day of school and Pigsy hadn’t thought about preparing them for it at all today.

Well this is gonna be just swell, ain’t it?

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likeshipsonthesea · 1 year

Text

want

coda fic for 6x07 Cursed a.k.a. the episode where we all heard way too much about buck’s baby batter (blame @somaybeamystery for that one). i had a lot of feelings about that episode and the way they handled it--mostly it being for comic relief--so here’s a more serious, introspective look at buck’s donation arc, and what i hope happened after 6x07

warnings for infertility references and references to the buckleys/daniel

“What’s with the sand?” Buck sweeps a hand toward the light dusting of sand Eddie’s created by taking off his shoes on Buck’s welcome mat.

“Ah, shit, sorry.”

Buck rolls his eyes. “I own a vacuum cleaner, don’t worry.”

Eddie elects to ignore their usual argument over Buck’s stupid-smart vacuum cleaner and answer the question anyway. “I just dropped Chris at Andrew’s house for a sleepover and didn’t have time to change after his surfing lesson.”

“Is Andrew the one with the ridiculous video game set-up?”

Eddie smiles but shakes his head. “No, that’s Ricky. Andrew’s the one with the gerbils.”

“Ricky gerbils, got it.” Buck nods slowly and goes silent, continuing to nod at nothing slower and slower until Eddie’s nearly forgotten why he’s nodding at all. He puts the six pack he brought down on the counter and the sound makes Buck snap his head back up, eyes refocusing on Eddie rather than somewhere in the distance.

Eddie lifts his eyebrows. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, belated. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

Eddie can tell by the way Buck’s jaw twitches that he’s worrying the inside of his lip. He’s been doing it so often lately that he even refused Eddie’s tomatoes over lunch during their last shift—he didn’t say it, but Eddie knows it’s because he’s broken the skin and the acidity of the tomatoes would sting.

“What do I do about it?” Eddie asked Frank, during their last session.

“What do you want to do about it?” Frank replied, infuriating as always.

“Ask him what’s wrong.” Eddie shook his head. “But if he wanted to talk about it, he would.”

“Then you have to choose,” Frank said sensibly. “Either don’t ask and stop worrying about it until he brings it up, or ask and deal with the consequences.”

Eddie hates when Frank doesn’t give him an easy answer. Not that Frank’s ever given him an easy answer. Honestly, Eddie hates almost everything about therapy, except the getting better part.

Eddie takes a deep breath. “You tell me to shut up, I’ll shut up and we’ll drink and watch the game and I won’t say another word about it,” Eddie says, and almost doesn’t continue when Buck looks at him with his big dumb eyes, so lost Eddie wants to do something stupid like invite him home or kiss his freaking forehead. “But I know there’s something wrong, and if you want to talk about it, I want to listen.”

Buck stares at him for several long seconds. Yeah, Eddie’s surprised with himself, too.

“I, uh.” Buck ducks his chin, looking down at his kitchen counter. He has both hands curled around the edge of it, his fingers spread wide, the skin going stark white with the pressure he puts on them. “I had my donation appointment today.”

Eddie’s face does something drastic at that, but he has an extra second before Buck looks up to school his expression into something neutral and open.

“Oh?” Eddie says, because he’s not sure what else to fucking say and it works well enough for Frank when he’s trying to get Eddie to keep talking.

But Eddie must not have done it right because Buck looks back down at the counter and nods again, just saying, “Yeah. Yeah.”

“So.” Eddie tries to think of the appropriate thing to say when your best friend (and the guy that several therapy sessions would indicate you’re stupidly in love with) tells you he’s donated his sperm to a couple you’ve never met. “So, uh. It’s all done, then?”

Buck’s shoulders tense as he presses even more weight into his hands. Fuck. Eddie probably should’ve just gone with “congrats.”

“It’s not,” Buck says without looking up. Eddie winces. He didn’t know about this whole thing until yesterday, but if he did, he might’ve seen this coming. It would be hard for anyone to father a child and then just not be involved in the kid’s life, let alone Buck, who clings to everything in his life like it’s going to be taken away if he loosens his grip. Eddie’s pretty sure that’s why he eats the way he does—like someone will take away the plate if he doesn’t finish fast enough. Knowing there’s a kid out there with a part of him in them but not being allowed to see them, raise them, love them—Eddie could’ve guessed that would kill Buck.

But it’s not Buck’s kid.

“It is over,” Eddie says as gently as he can manage. “You did your part, and now it’s over.”

“No, I didn’t—” Buck’s jaw clenches and releases. “I rescheduled.”

“Second thoughts?” Eddie asks, trying not to sound hopeful. If he knew the couple, he might feel a pang of sympathy for their situation, but he only cares about Buck, so he can’t manage anything but relief.

Buck shakes his head abruptly and Eddie’s relief fizzles in his chest. “No, no—not—not like that.”

“The moon wasn’t in the right position, then?” Eddie tries for a smile and grins when he gets one, accompanied by a soft huff of laughter and the slight loosening of Buck’s shoulders.

“No.” Buck glances up, smile still playing at his lips. “Not anything like that.”

“Then why reschedule?”

Buck sighs deeply, his shoulders falling further. “When Connor and Camryn asked me, I did all this research.” He gestures aimlessly with one hand as he speaks. “What to eat, how much to exercise, how involved people tend to be, how donor-born people feel about the whole thing. I wanted to do it right, you know?”

Eddie nods, smiling faintly. He’d expect nothing less from Buck.

“Well, uh.” Buck rubs at the back of his neck with his gesturing hand. “One thing they recommended was to abstain from, uh. Giving your own sample. Before the appointment.”

Eddie nods in a totally casual and not incredibly controlled way because he’s a normal friend that’s not going to be weird about his best friend’s ejaculations. Mhmm.

“Well. I was supposed to have my appointment a month ago. But stuff kept getting in the way. The tech fainted, the power went out.” Buck gestures dismissively. “All this stuff.”

“So it’s been a month since…?”

Buck smiles tightly. “Yup.”

“So you’re…”

“Pretty pent-up, yeah.”

“Ah.” Eddie imagines a small box with a lid and puts the thoughts and feelings he has about this information into that box, then puts that box into another box, and repeats that process until he can take a deep breath without wheezing. It’s a neat little trick he learned when he was a kid. He calls it the box method. Frank calls it repression. “So, how does rescheduling help with that?”

Buck doesn’t answer for long enough that Eddie considers just offering to turn on the game, but the little wrinkle between Buck’s eyebrows keeps Eddie from speaking. Finally, he says quietly, “My Jeep broke down on the way to the appointment. Between the pressure of doing it for Connor and Camryn and the whole thing at the station yesterday, and the frustration of saving up for so long, I just. Wanted to get it over with. So I ran. I ran through the streets, almost knocking people over, got there with four minutes to spare, and the nurse gave me a cup and a magazine and left me alone in the room and I just.”

Buck screws his mouth to the side.

“I was sitting there. Sweaty, breathing hard, looking at this cup. And it just—didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel—I wasn’t—I forgot. With all the secrecy and special diets and whatever, I forgot why I was doing it in the first place.”

“Why are you doing it?” If Eddie were Frank, he wouldn’t have asked. But Eddie’s not an impartial party, he’s half in love with his best friend and he has no fucking clue why he’s agreed to this whole thing, and he just really wants to know.

The tension in Buck’s face releases slowly until he’s got a faint smile sitting on his lips, eyes firmly on his kitchen counter. “It’s awkward, unbelievably awkward, to ask someone for their sperm. The whole thing—wine and dining me, explaining to someone you haven’t seen in years this seriously intimate thing, talking about sperm count and donation appointments. Most people, you get pregnant, it’s easy. No awkward conversations, no third parties. This whole thing is awkward and stressful and takes five times as much work.” Buck looks up, meeting Eddie’s eyes. “Even if I wasn’t sure they’d be awesome parents, and even though I don’t know if I’m going to deal with the whole “having a kid without being a parent” thing well, I’d still do it. Because I know without a doubt that they want this kid more than anything in the world, and this kid is going to grow up knowing that.”

Just like that, Eddie gets it. This is probably the furthest thing you can get from having a kid for spare parts. That comprehension must be evident in his face because Buck looks away again. Clears his throat.

“I know it’s dumb,” he says, self-deprecating and minimizing, and Eddie could just shake him and yell you matter, you asshole, but he doesn’t. He thinks Frank would be proud, though, both for having the thought and restraining himself. “But I was sitting there in that room and I knew that if I donated in that moment, it wouldn’t be because I wanted this kid for Connor and Camryn, it would be because I was frustrated and stressed. So I rescheduled.” Buck worries at the inside of his lip for a long moment before adding, “Every part of this kid’s existence should be because they’re wanted.”

Eddie loves him. It surges in him at random moments, overwhelming and sweet. It’s happened more and more often since he’s been working with Frank. He’s never said it aloud, but he thinks dealing with all his other shit has left more room in him for love. Different flavors of it—pride and joy when Christopher talks about his newest science project, contentment and warmth when he’s squished between Hen and Chim on the firehouse couch, delight and surprise when he listens to his dad’s misadventures in retirement. Buck’s somehow all of those flavors in one bite, bursting across Eddie’s tongue like a well-executed recipe.

“I didn’t think I could feel like that anymore,” Eddie told Frank once, stilted and embarrassed and probably too honest, but pleased anyway.

Sometimes it hurts. Hurts with how big it feels, hurts with how much it is, hurts because this person he loves so much it’s stupid doesn’t see how much he’s loved—or how he should be loved. All the shit Buck’s been through with his parents and his near-deaths and his unlucky love life and he’s still so fucking kind. Reckless and impulsive and self-destructive to the point that he blows up everything within the blast radius, sure. But still so unrelentingly kind.

“It’s not dumb,” Eddie finally manages to say through all the cresting emotions in his chest. Buck looks at him, surprised, wide-eyed. “I don’t think it’s dumb at all.”

Buck cracks a smile, the one Christopher pilfered from him, the one Eddie gets when he relents to “five more minutes” of video games. A smile of victory and surprise. A smile of gratitude.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

Too honest, Eddie says, “Anytime.”

Eddie only lets Christopher have another five minutes half of the time he asks for it, but Buck? Eddie would choose that smile on Buck’s face over almost anything else.

#buddie #evan buckley #buck #eddie diaz #9-1-1 #9-1-1 spoilers #my writing #sort of fic #ficlet #yes i title too many things for this fandom 'want'#it's just PERTINENT okay #idk i've been fiddling w this since the ep came out #and i think this is the best result i've come up w #i don't know what the show's doing w this arc #and i really hope it becomes clear soon #but as it is #i'm not the biggest fan #so here is my way of fixing it #:))

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sidhewrites · 6 months

Text

Seventeen! I've got all these notes about how I want Mr. Ngo to be more involved, and that he deserves to also be a Graveyard Lesbian but I can't figure out exactly where he'd fit in so for now, he's a supporting character instead.

Fun fact number 2 this is going very different than intended, where MagnusRenfield was going to get major spooky powers that would allow him to open up a portal to the spirit world and suck the town into it.

I uh...don't think that's gonna happen anymore but we'll see how it goes.

Project Info

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

There's no such luck waiting for me. A light's on in the front office, with Mr. Ngo waiting for me. Mr Ngo is waiting for me. I'm exhausted as it is, and I brace myself for a proper chewing out. "Good morning."

"Hiya boss. You're here early."

"Everything okay at home?"

"It, uh..." I rub my arms, feeling the gauze under my sweater's sleeves, and shrug. "It's been a time."

"It seems like it. Maybe you should take another day off. Come back when you're ready."

Something in his tone sets me on edge, heart leaping to my throat. "No -- no, it's fine. I'm fine, I can--"

"Kaz," he says. "I had a weird message on the answering machine yesterday. I'm very worried about you."

Oh no, I think, and try to smile. “What’s up?”

"Those nice people who filmed here the other day, they say you’re calling them and want them to come back."

"I..."

"Kaz, that's very unlike you. What's going on? Do you know how unprofessional that is? "

I know. I know it is. But I don’t know how to sit down and explain to him that not only are ghosts apparently real, but that Mick and Lourdes accidentally summoned an evil one and it’s now possessing my ex girlfriends cat except they thought they were talking to my new kind of girlfriend, who, it turns out, is also a ghost and I’m somehow a medium caught up in the middle of this. “I can explain,” I lie. I have no idea how to explain any of it.

"Kaz."

"Mr. Ngo, listen... things -- it's..." I falter.

He sighs, and puts a hand on my shoulder. "Go get some rest, Kaz. You look like you haven't slept in days. I can handle the graveyard until you're feeling better."

"No -- no, Mr. Ngo, please. I'm fine, really -- I...It won't happen again, I promise. It--"

"Kaz." He looks almost sad. "Get some rest. You've been working very hard lately. I think it would be good to spend less time among the dead, and a bit more among the living for a few days."

I want to argue. I want to beg forgiveness. I want to fall to the ground and tell him everything, if only so he'd stop looking at me like that. But I don't. I do as I'm told. I apologize one more time, and then I go home, dragging my sorry ass back to the apartment, and fall right back into bed to sleep as long as I possibly could. Somehow, I sleep through the day again -- the week of all-nighters finally catching up to me, and only stir hours later, when the familiar sound of kitty feet patter across the floor.

Renfield doesn't get the zoomies often anymore, but it happens occasionally. I'll wake up in the middle of the night, waddling around like a wild animal, traveling at the speed of slow. He takes his little ramp up to the bed, pounces on my foot, and meeps for attention. Just like always, I roll over and mumble out a little, "Go to sleep, little boy."

Renfield pads across the bed again, leaps down to the ground, and waddles out, then back in and up onto the bed once more to tap my face.

"C'mon, baby," I mumble, still half asleep as he trots around the apartment. "I'll get you breakfast in an hour."

"It's not breakfast I'm looking for."

Suddenly I'm wide awake. Renfield sits there, fur almost glowing in the light that shines in from the street outside, eyes glowing yellow. "Good morning, dear Kaz. It's been far too long."

"Jesus fuck!" I bolt up, nearly falling off the bed. He doesn't move, just watching me scrabble uselessly for a second before I find purchase and leap to my feet.

"Are you done?"

"What the fuck!" I shout.

Magnus sighs. "Let me know when you're done with the hysterics. I have a proposal."

"Leave my cat alone."

"That's part of the plan."

"What? Wait -- but--"

"How am I here? Please." He makes a show of licking his paw, letting me get a good look at the dried blood around his mouth.

"Did you...You didn't..."

"I'm an expedient man, Kaz. I had to get out the door somehow."

[Something.]

"Here's the deal, dearest Kaz. There's something interesting going on lately. The moon's getting full, and I'm pleased to find out what day it is. In a few days, it'll be Hallow's eve, and I have a few suspicions. I don't need much from you, of course. Just get me outside, into the crowds. I'll take care of the rest."

But before he can say more, his strength wanes. Renfield's pupils dilate once more, and he returns to himself. He's confused again, not sure how he got there.

I pick up my phone right away and call Josie. "I think we're running out of time."

Tag List

@adaughterofathena

@ambreeskyewriting

@carnelianflames

@feather-dancer

@halfbloodlycan

@nadunacreates

@serenanymph

@vigilantdesert

#writeblr #writing #writers #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #graveyard lesbians #mystuff #mywriting #my writing #nano #nano 2023 #nanowrimo #supernatural romance #supernatural fiction #original fiction #original fic

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violet27writes · 7 months

Text

Whumptober Day 10: Scaring

(Continuation of day 6: Mind control and Forced to hurt someone else, here)

Also on AO3 Here.

---

From the moment he woke up, Warriors felt that something was wrong. Terribly so. Not including the headache.

The first indication of that was the fact that he was laying on his bedroll in his chainmail.

The second was the fact that all eyes were on him when he sat up.

Even Sky, who was notorious for sleeping in and being nearly impossible to wake, was sitting next to the fire, intently watching.

“Good morning.”

Warriors turned to the familiar voice next to him. Time sat beside the bedroll with his sword, oiling the blade.

“...Morning.” His own voice sounded dry and almost unused in return. Which was also strange, as he generally didn’t have a ‘morning voice’ unless he had overused it the day before. What had he done… yesterday? His mind only drew a blank.

Time didn’t seem to take notice. “How are you feeling?”

The Captain frowned, why did he ask that? Was there a reason why he was feeling so off? He looked back up at the others, most of whom had gone back to whatever activity they had been engaged in. Twilight caught his eye with an unfamiliar expression, before turning away. “Uh, feeling a little off. I guess. My head kinda hurts.”

“To be expected,” He set his sword back in its sheath, “You were out of it for a time. Do you remember anything from that?”

With a shake of his head, Warriors drew his knees up to his chest. “Was I sick? What happened?”

“Something like that, yes.” Time stood. “I’m just glad you’re improving. The others are pretty high strung at the moment, but they’ll be happy to see you too. Don’t think too hard about it.”

He watched as Time walked away.

‘Cryptic Old Man.’

---

Now, weeks later, Warriors had been able to fall back into a familiar rhythm. The others, however, did not.

They were distant, careful, always keeping an eye on him like he was bound to drop dead any minute now. They were anxious, alert at the sound of a twig snapping. There was no denying that. The only question was why?

His questions were left unanswered when he brought it up, and he tried to not push too hard, but if it was him they were worried about- Shouldn’t he get to know why? Was he so ill before that his existence had been so thin? Had his life been hanging on a thread? Were the others literally waiting in fear of something overtaking him again? Things just weren’t adding up.

So, during Time’s night watch on the first shift, he asked.

Time stared into the fire, a bitter laugh sounding before he finally answered. “I was wondering how long it was going to take you.”

Warriors frowned, but gestured for the older to continue.

“It had been a simple battle, ‘too easy,’ as you had put it. You were double checking the battle field when something just… overtook you. Not physically, but mentally.” He glanced at the Captain. “It wasn’t you, but something took control and attacked. Us.”

What? “I…attacked you guys? Was anyone hurt?”

“Thankfully, no, not seriously, at least. But hey,” Time grabbed Warriors by his shoulders and made him look him in the eyes. Plural. The scared one was looking into him too. “This was not your fault.”

Warriors pushed his hands off and stood. “Yeah right. And cuccos aren’t demon birds.”

Time followed suit. “I’m serious, Captain. Would you blame me if I was in your shoes? What about if it was Sky, or the Sailor. They might say the same thing, but the facts ring true. It was not you who did the attacking.”

“Well you’re not in my shoes. What if I hurt one of them? What if, since they thought the battle was over, they weren’t ready to defend themselves?”

“We weren’t.”

He paused, “What?”

With a sigh, Time grabbed the hem of his tunic and lifted it up, leaving the other with a clear view of his torso. Along with the new, white scar that ran across it, from sternum to hip. After a moment, he let the tunic fall back into place. “And yet, who was the first to speak to you after you woke?”

The question hung in the air, a few heroes stirring from the conversation, but none fully woken from it.

“I would say I forgive you,” Time continued, “But there’s nothing to forgive. Do you understand?”

Warriors thoughts were racing- ‘The liar,’ ‘I hurt him,’ ‘How could he possibly forgive-‘ ‘this is why everyone is one edge.’

“Do you believe me?”

The silence quickly fell back into place.

(@ailesswhumptober)

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe time #linked universe warriors #whumptober #whumptober day 10 #ailesswhumptober2023 #scaring #continuation

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barkspawn · 1 year

Note

If you're up for it - Shane comforting Amelia, with the prompt “Do you– can I– do you want to be held?” I LOVE YOUR ONE SHOTS THANK YOU!!!

Uh hey. I'm sorrryyyyy.

Also I'm going to attempt to do this on mobile. If it's awful I will edit on PC.

Amelia hung up her phone and threw it onto the bed, letting out a frustrated groan. She hardly talked to her father, but on those brief calls every few months, he never failed to be a dick.

Every time they spoke, without fail, he would find every negative thing in her life and chastise her for it.

She’s lived in Stardew Valley for nearly a year and she was doing well enough but is genuinely starting to get the hang of things now. She finally had a good amount of gold and supplies to run a proper farm and raise some chickens and maybe even some larger animals.

Her crops this fall were incredible. She made more than she had ever yet and she was proud.

Until the talk with her dad, where he pointed out that she was making a lot of stupid mistakes. He told her she didn't need to focus on chickens since she was too clueless to install an irrigation system. She already made plans to set that up and was waiting for the materials to come in. It wasn't already done though, so of course she was inadequate.

Frustrated, she resolved to turn her day around.

A shower.

She wanted a hot shower to relax her muscles and relax. With a sigh, she pulled off her dirty overalls and underclothes, looking at herself in the mirror. She was toning her body a bit, it seems, but she still got so caught up on the “pudge” of her belly, as her mom called it.

She threw the clothes in a heap into her hamper and made for the shower. She turned the water on hot, pulling her hair from the tie and climbing in. The heat from the shower was everything. It felt incredible on her sore muscles… until about two minutes later.

The water suddenly ran cold.

Amelia let out a yelp at the sudden change, clinging to the far side of the shower.

Is this seriously happening?

She groaned, still having to rinse off her hair and body.

It took far longer than it had to, her body more tense than when she started. She hurried to dry off, freezing from the cold water and the fact she’d forgotten to light the fireplace.

Winter would come in a few days, so it was already cold. At least she had this round of crops to get her some gold for the coming winter.

She lit the fire as soon as she could, the warmth bringing her much needed comfort. She closed her eyes and sighed, taking the moment to herself before she had to make her way in town.

Amelia was putting her shoes on as she heard Loaf barking at something. She sighed and went out the door, panic washing over her.

“No, no, no!”

She ran down the stairs to her porch as she watched a handful of crows fly off. Her scarecrow lay on the ground, presumably knocked down in yesterday’s storm or by Loaf. She really didn't want to, but she walked over to look, at least four pumpkins gone.

With a sigh, she stood the scarecrow back up, not even in the mood to be upset about it. It's a little less gold… She hoped.

She went back inside to grab her phone, figuring a walk might calm her down. She groaned, noting the crack running along her screen.

Great, now I have to call Z-Mobile too.

She checked her phone, a text from Sam canceling their plans for later, Vincent having gotten pretty sick.

The rest of the day was filled with little inconveniences. A snag in her sweater, a splinter in her hand, not being able to find her hoe that she just upgraded, and the list goes on. The sun started to set, and she tried to make some basic, crappy frozen meal, but the microwave won't work. It just wouldn't power on. She nearly screamed.

Instead, she grabbed the bottle of wine from her fridge and walked out the door and down toward the forest. She moved to sit on the small pier of the lake.

She closed her eyes for a long moment, trying to let the sound of the crickets and bullfrogs calm her. She took the wine and just stared at it.

It had a cork.

She just looked at it, her mind just blank. She would throw it into the lake if it didn't take so long to make. Instead, she let herself yell in frustration, burying her face in her hands.

“Whoa, bad day?”

She heard Shane behind her and nearly fell into the lake and would have if he hadn't reacted fast enough. Her eyes already stung with tears.

“Uh, yeah. Just.. A really bad day,” she started ahead, the only thought she had was how she should have listened to that damn fortune channel this morning.

“I feel ya…” Shane started, holding up a cooler, “don't have a corkscrew, but I can offer a cold one?”

She smiled up at him, “please?” she sighed, watching as he sat awkwardly, cross-legged on the other as he handed her a beer.

“I don't think I've ever seen you anything other than happy,” he started, “well, maybe a little pouty, but that doesn't count.”

“Just… One thing after another today.”

He nodded, “trust me. I understand those days. Sorry you got one.”

She cursed those first few tears that fell, glancing at Shane, who looked uncomfortable as all hell. With a sigh, she stood.

“Here, switch places with me. I think the edge is too close for my luck today.”

He smirked, joking, “well hold on tight and ill walk you over here.”

She hated this. She hated that it even got to the point where she was crying in front of her best friend who she happened to have feelings for. He held out a hand to help her over the little pile of things on the pier, hearing her sniffle as she came closer.

He looked over her face, noting the shine of tears she tried to hide.

“Shit, Oats…” he put his hand on her shoulder, causing her to break. She let out a cry and he pulled his hand back, worried he would somehow make it worse.

“Do you–” he started, losing that thought as she tried to apologize, her face in her hands.

“Can I–” he started, not knowing what to offer. What could he possibly do to make it better? Jas liked hugs.. But she's a child. He thought back to the last time he was that distraught and how Marnie was there and just–

He put his hands on her shoulders, his voice gentle, “do you want to be held?”

She looked up at him, eyes puffy and red as she slowly nodded before the dam broke once more.

He stepped forward and let her cry into his chest. She sort of seemed to curl in on herself, her hands gripping the front of his jacket. He didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around her, making sure not to hold on to her too tightly, but firm enough to know he was there and would always be.

His heart ached as she cried, every ounce of stress coming out in a wet spot on Shane’s shirt. Eventually, she slowed, her breathing evening out. She moved to wrap her arms around him, returning his firm hug with a tight embrace.

“Do you want me to let go?” he heard her mumble into his chest.

“Nah, not until you're ready to. I'm not going anywhere.”

“I don't know what I did to deserve you… But I'm so thankful right now that you came.”

“You know I'm usually only here or at the saloon.”

“Maybe I just knew I needed you around. I'm sorry.”

“Oats, you had a shit day. You needed to cry and that's fine. I'm not gonna leave you alone to cry over a cork,” he joked, resting his cheek on her head, “plus, it's kind of cold and you're like the best little space heater.”

She laughed, “At least I did something right today.”

“Hey, don't do that,” he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes, “I know you and I know that you are the most impressive person I've ever met. Look at how far you've come with your farm! How huge you are to this community!”

She looked down, causing him to tilt her chin upwards with his finger, “your good days far outweigh the bad. Next time you have a bad day, call me. I don't like that you're all upset.”

She gave a small smile and pulled him in for a tighter hug, “thank you, Shane. It really means the world…”

“Don’t mention it,” he sighed, returning the tighter hug, “and I really mean that. I can't have people thinking I've gone soft.”

#stardew valley #sdv #stardew valley fanfic #stardew #barkspawn writes #sdv shane #stardew shane #shane stardew valley #shane x farmer #stardew fanfic #sdv fanfic #barkspawn oneshots

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stiricidewrites · 26 days

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The Damage You Do: ch 23, pt 2

Previously

wwx hovered outside the door, bouncing nervously on his toes. Wen Qing had taken one look at him, standing in his kitchen—not even fucking moving!—and demanded to know what had happened. Many ice packs and heating pads and anti-inflammatories later, his ankle ached, but not nearly as badly as it had yesterday morning. Then Wen-popo had done some fancy traditional medicine on him, which left his foot smelling and looking a bit weird, but overall feeling practically perfect! Wen Ning had still insisted that it be wrapped up, though, dragging himself over that morning to apply more of Wen-popo’s salve and wrap it back up, before passing out on the couch.

“Give it some extra support, so you didn’t fuck it up again”—wwx’s words, not Wen Ning’s.

He bounced again. Again. Again.

“Don’t be a coward,” he whispered to himself before knocking on the door. Not too loudly—he had no idea if anyone else lived in the apartment opposite lwj’s—but loud enough that, unless his dom were still sleeping—which lhr had assured him he most certainly would not be—the other man would most certainly hear him and—

The door opened and wwx’s thoughts sparkled away, overtaken by his dom’s sweat-slick presence.

“wwx,” lwj said, and wwx hadn’t realized until that moment how much he hated that name on his dom’s lips. His dom should always call him wy or A-Ying. wwx was much too formal.

“Mr. Lan,” he replied, smiling as he fought down a frown. If wwx was too formal, what the fuck was Mr. Lan!?

The other man blinked at him, his eyes a little blank with the early hour—or confusion—but awake.

wwx felt like he was in a fucking dream.

He bounced again. How long could you stand in front of someone’s front door without being asked in before you were forced to ask if they were going to let you in? His smile wobbled as lwj simply stared at him. If the other man hadn’t said his name, he would have been convinced his dom didn’t know him, for all the emotion he could see in those eyes.

Maybe he had fucked up, coming here.

“Ah… is now a bad time? Cause I can, uh, leave…” he trailed off, glancing to the elevator behind him. He’d noticed the day before that it required a pass card to use, regardless of which direction you were going. There must be a stairwell, though? That would definitely fuck with his ankle, but fucking up his ankle would definitely be better than this horrible, awkward, no-good situation!

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” he added, trying to smile as brightly as he could at him dom. “I can—”

“Do not.”

wwx started, smile faltering. “Do not…?” Do not what? What kind of thing to say was that? Do not bother me? Do not speak? Do not exist? Do not leave? Do not ever come here again!?

“Do not give me that smile.”

wwx’s smile froze. “Wha— what’s wrong with my smile?” he asked. What even was this conversation!? Maybe lwj woke up this horrifically early, but wasn't actually a morning person? Maybe he was a total morning grump? Or didn’t appreciate his alone time being interrupted? He’d assumed the man liked his company, but that had been presumptuous, and he had totally fucked this up, and he was so totally going to kill lhr and—

A/N: in reality, the inside of lwj's head is probably more like:

BE COOL! Do not throw your sub up against the closet door and fuck him in the entryway @_@

#fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #wangxian #stiricidesmobji #dark lan zhan

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fizzingwizard · 3 months

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life stuff

I did so many dumb things yesterday. Can't even remember them all now, but for one, I went to the wrong floor when I got home and even tried the key before I realized. I also went to a sushi place where you have color-coded plates, and I took a plate that wasn't my color. I have been going there for years and I've never not once done that before. Also at work I was just a basketcase who couldn't commit to anything.

Then today I made oatmeal, but apparently never turned the kettle on?? So I just poured ice cold water on my oats and uh yeah not appetizing. I just decided to starve until dinner 9_9

I'm a little perplexed by so many senior moments, but I think it just means I'm a lot more tired than I realized. It was a tough week. Many teachers were out sick. Including a teacher who quit for (highly legitimate) personal reasons just last week, we were missing four to five teachers nearly every day. We didn't have one day with a full staff. It's also conference season so I had a ton going on, and my kids were unusually difficult. I think it's a combo of them all being sick but not sick enough to stay home, and my challenging students just having some extra challenges, and everything happening at the same time. I've also been under the weather in a weird nebulous way: various symptoms, overall fatigue, no fever, but lasting weeks and weeks. Can't call out for it as much as I want to. Wednesday was alright but every other day was like wow, welcome to hell. Though I shouldn't say that because hell would be a kid getting hurt. No injuries, no disasters, just a very tired and frustrated teacher.

Because of all the teacher absences, those of us who were here every day got slapped with a lot more on-duty time and just stints of break here and there. We couldn't even get what's in our contracts a couple days, which always pisses me off because I'm literally not getting paid for one hour that I'm at work. And the company doesn't want us to do overtime of course bc they have to pay us for it. (They are known for "forgetting" to account for overtime hours as well so everyone double checks their paychecks). Yet we've been understaffed all year, so in order to not pay for overtime, they just send teachers from another nearby school to ours to help. One of my coworkers always insists on apologizing to them. I'm not apologizing. I didn't do it. Let the company apologize. I'll thank the other school for helping (not that they have a choice) but tbh it'd be better if they said it was impossible, then the company might actually hire a full time teacher. Oh btw last year when several of us were helping the other school when their teacher left on paternity leave for the rest of the year, no one thanked us. In face they mostly just forgot about us and looked surprised every time we turned up (biweekly! for months!) to do the job they told us they needed us to do

Anyway I told the manager that as much as I understand why break/prep time is limited when there are many teacher absences, it looked as though time had been redistributed without any thought about equality. Wed's hours were a mess, but I let it slide because I thought I could fix it to be okay for Friday. Well, someone else was out on Fri, and the time was redistributed again and I had less for the whole week than everyone else. Now there are a few factors: some teachers work longer hours than others but make "the same" pay (I put it in quotes because some of the contracts are a little different and I don't know the details, but it's roughly similar anyway). A teacher who is at the school for 7 hours has gets the same off-duty time as ones who are there for 8 or 9. But if it's okay to give more off-duty time to 9 hr teachers than 7 hr ones, that's never been expressed. And because 7 hr teachers go home before the least staffed period of the day, it's the 8 hr teacher who end up with less off-duty time because there are fewer opportunities to take it. The ones that come earlier than 4 pm have to go to the 7 hr teacher first. The ones that come after 5 pm are only available to the 9hr (which sucks for them because who wants to not have a break till after 5? they do usually get some break earlier as well but it's shorter).

Overall the distribution is unfair and dumb even when it's done according to the books. We used to have a couple leaders who would point out when things were too tight or not fair to whoever, but they both quit in the mass exodus of last year. I thought I could point it out and the manager would say "oh sorry, I'll keep an eye on that for the future." I didn't expect my schedule to be changed, just that promise. Instead the manager first said it was fine that I had less off-duty time than everyone else because I had conferences (??? our contracts don't change when there are conferences - or do they? lol well if they do it was never a problem any other year before now...). So I was like not really, and she proceeded to give me a bit of someone else's prep, the teacher who had the most for the week, only I found out later that that teacher wasn't feeling well that day. She may have been given the extra time due to her condition, and because I brought it up, she lost it. But I had no idea she wasn't feeling well. When I found out, I tried to trade with her, but she refused every time. It's just 15 min we're talking about. What does it say to you when teachers feel guilty all day long for having 15 min of prep time that could have been someone else's? fuck everything

Also only found out later that another coworker spent all of her prep time onboarding a new teacher. New teacher, hurrah, whatever, it's fucking January already but sure. Well, that coworker could have used a little extra off-duty time as well. But nobody bothers to tell Fizz. I would have happily traded off-duty time with her as well but I'm not pyschic my dude. I'm just not.

While I'm complaining let me sandwich in another annoyance. The other class decided they wanted to do a certain project. They began work on the project, but then got told by the manager that they had to include my class, because what they were doing was big enough to be unfair if only one class got to participate. Since they had already begun work, it was taken for granted that my class would just be doing the project as well now. No one asked if that was alright with me. No one asked if I wanted to edit or add anything. Actually, no one even TOLD ME WHAT WE WERE DOING. The other class teacher told my co-teacher the project was happening, but not the details. I waited two weeks, nothing, so finally I had to go ask them what the heck this was about, and they then told ME what to do. Absolutely no interest in what I might think about it at all. They decided, so I just have to do it. I could argue, of course! But like every time I have the audacity to disagree with Things That Someone Has Decided, I'd just be seen as making trouble for no reason. The project is good for the kids, so it's not easy to be against it. And I'm not against it. But I do feel disrespected. Like did it occur to no one that I, also a classroom teacher, might already have my own project in mind for my class??? If this had happened in reverse, then as soon as I knew my project was going to be expected of another class as well, I would have gone and talked to that class's teachers. I would have asked for their input and changes and I would have been fully prepared, no matter how unlikely it was, for the possibility that they just wouldn't want to do it at all. Because it's their class and i don't make decisions about their class. "But it's a cute project for little kids" blah blah everything we do is a cute project for little kids. IT'S STILL WORK FOR TEACHERS. Kill me for preferring the projects I chose and put effort into instead of projects someone else picked out without even asking my opinion. And I'm still doing it! I haven't made a scene! But was it really too much to expect at least "sorry about this" or "do you want to change anything"?? I really saw red for a while.

I'm fed up with my job in a lot of ways and I want to switch. But I don't know where to go. Finding somewhere new will mean starting over from base salary which is even lower than what I make now. The more tiring and demanding the work becomes, the less the pay makes it feel worth it. No one becomes a pre-k teacher to get rich. We like little kids. But there sure are a lot of expectations of teacher's the schools are basically throwing peanuts at. The perk, yeah, is the time off. But since it's only during cold months I never really do anything with it. It was nice to go home over the holidays, but I couldn't afford to do it every year whether I had the time off or not lol.

I honestly don't know what to do right now and it's making me extra anxious. Just hoping something will fall into my lap hahaha great strategy there. Glassdoor sends me useless spam every day :) Even got one saying I'd be a "perfect fit" to teach Christian ed to the kids of a traveling circus x'D

#fizz's life

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slu-tea-ftm · 8 months

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So I have a fear of dying a slow death (suffocation, set on fire, drowning, buried alive, freezing to death, etc.)...

That last one nearly happened yesterday 🥲

I went to go do Store Stuff in my store's freezer and I asked some nearby people (not in my department) to help me open the door bc I didn't know how to. They asked if I was gonna be in there a while. I said I didn't know (it was my first time doing things in that freezer bc it was being repaired before), so they shut me in (you can't leave the freezer door open), not knowing that I didn't know how to open the door from the inside.

Eventually, as it usually happens in the cold, I started to go numb and hurty in my fingers, so I decided, "I should step outside for a bit to warm up, so I don't catch hypothermia!"

Except...I didn't know how to open the door. And I had no idea if there were people on the other side. So, for a solid 15-ish minutes, I alternated between kicking the door, hitting the door with my fist, jangling the weird handle, and simply trying to keep myself warm.

I started to see frost collecting on the jacket I was wearing (I was wearing another underneath). My work phone was at 2% and everyone in the store was in "do not disturb" mode...this is when the panic really started setting in. I was so scared I wanted to cry.

Thankfully, a few minutes of panicked-pounding later, one of the people who I saw earlier opened the door.

I didn't get done with the Store Stuff I was supposed to do, but there's no way I'm going back in that frozen hellscape after that. Nu-uh. No one can make me. Too scary.

TL;DR: I got stuck in the freezer at work and thought I was going to die of hypothermia and it almost sent me into a panic attack.

#.txt #walmart shit #i also forgot to do a whole aisle in the back when doing Store Stuff #so yesterday was pretty rough

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vtforpedro · 2 years

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health update TW in tags

I had to find my last update to see where I left off. Oofta. Things have progressed in both a good and bad way! I’d love to say only good lol dear god I wish I could say everything is just g o o d for once. I’m currently going through an emotional upheaval because of how badly my home life is and coming to realize I’m in an abusive situation with the last person on earth I thought that could happen. I’ve lost the last safe person ‘in real life’ that I have because of this. My mom. She is my solid rock and 100% full time supporter and this situation of becoming my nearly full time caregiver and the stresses it has put on her (let alone me) have, uh. Well, brought out the worst. It’s devastating honestly. My therapist has been a little too pushy for my liking trying to get me to hire home health help but 1. money 2. insurance would need a diagnosis if we went through them and idk if ‘hey we sliced up her nerves in her back during an LP and didn’t find out until five months in’ would cut it 3. I don’t really need it anymore. But yeah emotionally I am wrecked. My mom refuses therapy or family therapy so I have to keep surviving this kind of horrific situation I’m in lol it’s been bad the entire time but I finally snapped months into it and started laying down hard boundaries and for those of you familiar with abusers, you’ve probably experienced the joy of their reactions to boundaries. :) It’s situational because my mom has never been this way with me in my life but I feel like 31 years went down the drain in *months* and the things she’s said and done can’t be completely recovered from. I don’t know what to do. Once I’m out of this situation I can tell her that the only way I will ever feel comfortable being open with her again is to do family therapy but 🤷‍♀️ can’t make her do anything, so we’ll see. Physical health wise re: the LP horror show? BETTER! I’m getting better. I started physical therapy a month ago and I think I’ve had 6 sessions? Maybe 7? Idk. Leaps and bounds. I can sit on a toilet by myself. I can sit and stand everywhere but one place by myself and it’s only because my couch is wasted lmao and I need help up for the same reason. Otherwise? All me. We’re practicing getting up by myself from my recliner (can do just fine) and getting down and comfortable with everything I need (still a work in progress) so my mom can go to her home more and work more and we both get independence!!!!! I am going to sit at my computer chair and see how long I last before it hurts but I need my body to get used to sitting up again. Otherwise, the two guys I work with (one, mostly, as the other is v quiet) is THRILLED with how well I’m doing and that even if I’m tired/in pain I get through PT every time. I’m super psyched actually. Legit PUMPED every time I step into this place. It feels fantastic. I can’t wait to see where I am in another month. Maybe out of this recliner except when I willingly want to be in it 😂 but still gonna pace myself and listen to my body. I saw my pain specialist yesterday (who ordered the PT) and I told her and she said she had literal goosebumps and she was so happy for me. It felt really good to hear ;3; Unfortunately, head pressure is getting bad but hey at least I got the LP done 🙄 need to lose weight and adjust meds and hopefully get the rest of my normal life back someday. Gonna needs lots of trauma therapy to get there too. So that’s far off. I’ve not been feeling too well lately generally tho and I’m nervous b/c I have labs for my hematologist on Monday and she wants to check for ‘other leukemias and lymphomas’ so hhhhhh. I’ll see her a couple weeks after that and I’m afraid she’s gonna order the bone marrow biopsy but u_u what can I do Anyway. Hope you’re all doing okay. Love you all and thanks for always listening and supporting me. It means the world. 💜

#vtforpedro personal #medical #tw abuse #tw trauma #but hey i can also stand longer too so look at me go

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allstars-apt · 1 year

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“ It all began Ten years ago. “

“ I successfully lured many of Gaming’s Greatest Heroes and Villains alike into an all out Battle Royale with the promise of POWER. In truth, I gathered them and pitted them against each other to wipe them from existence! If I couldn’t be Playstation’s Best, why did they? But in my haste, I nearly failed to realize the miracle I had created. If I had Gaming Royalty in my grasp… Why destroy, when I could simply keep them? Thus, the Apartments were made. The Complex was a domain that existed outside of timelines, reset buttons, and rage-quits! It was a place where the All-Stars and their worlds were free to converge without worry of limitations! Of course, competitions would still arise, mostly for my entertainment, but nonetheless… It has been an honor being your Player One for these Ten Years, my All-Stars. You’ve continued to impress and intrigue me and other gamers throughout our time spent together, and I cannot wait to see what the future has in store for us all! “

“ Uh, thanks Polygon Man. “ Drake responded, raising his red solo cup to the floating head. He cleared his throat, then faced the others. “ Ahem- …Ten years, huh? Kinda feels like yesterday when we are all tryin’ to beat the shit outta each other. “ He scoffs. “ But, for all the dumb things we’ve done, we’ve grown a hell of a lot closer even moreso. It’s been an honor bein’ with you guys. “ He raised his red solo cup. “ Here’s to Ten Years. “

There were cheers coming from the entire room. Before they could fully die down however, a voice interrupted from the crowd.

“ From the moment I laid eyes on you all, I knew you were trouble. “ Hale spoke from across the room. He took a swig of his drink, then stood up to face everyone. “ You were unauthorized civilians about to be collateral damage. But after some time getting to know you all, I feel I’ve become a better man for doing so. “ The soldier brought his legs together, stood tall, and placed his hand on his head, saluting everyone. “ Thank you, soldiers. “

“ It’s thanks to you guys- PaRappa especially, that I got to learn how to have more fun! “ Spike smiled. “ I’ve been catchin’ monkeys and saving the world for so long, I almost forgot how to do that! Happy Ten years, guys! “

“ You’re welcome, Spike! “ PaRappa gave Spike a thumbs up. “ I’m just glad we’ve all been able to hang out so much! I joined the tournament in order to impress my friends, but I ended up makin’ new ones instead! No matter what happens, we’re family! “

“ RRRRRRRGH…. !!! “ Big Daddy roared.

“ I know that’s right, Tiny! “ Daxter tried to give the diver a highfive, but as he did, Big Daddy’s lights flashed red. “ RRR… “ His growl was enough of a signal for Daxter to nervously back away and hop onto Jak’s shoulder. “ …Yeesh, you’d think Ten Years would give that guy enough time to learn about hygiene! “

“ Dax and I know what it’s like to end up in an unfamiliar world. “ Jak began. “ Dunno how it happens, but every time we end up gettin’ attached to the people we meet. You’re all alright. “

“ You’re not too bad yourself! “ Ratchet smirked towards Jak, which he rolled his eyes at. “ Look, I’m not the best with stuff like this, but… It’s been really nice havin’ a place we can always call home. We’ve been stuck in worse places, haven’t we, pal? “ He nudged the robot on his back. “ Indeed, Ratchet. “ Clank nodded. “ It has truly been an honor to be in the presence of you all! I believe we’ve changed each other for the better! “

“ …For the most part. “ Ratchet added, raising an eyebrow to the clown beside him.

“ HAHAHAHA!!! IF YA ASK ME, IT’S BEEN TEN YEARS OF ANNOYING ASS NEIGHBORS AND A GUT-WRENCHINGLY LOW AMOUNT OF FATALITIES HERE. THE ONLY HIGHLIGHTS ARE THE TIMES I GET TO CAUSE SOME MAYHEM. “

“ Sooooo, basically every day then? “ Sly asked, sipping his mug quietly.

“ YEAH…. I GUESS SO. BRINGIN’ CHAOS TO YOU TWERPS HAS BEEN THE HIGHLIGHT OF MY PAST TEN YEARS. WHAT’S TEN MORE, THEN? HAHAHAHA!! “

“ I’ve gotta agree with Jak and Ratchet. I’ve been all over the globe, and no heist’s been as wild as this place. You all keep things fun, who doesn’t love that? “

“ FUN? “ Heihachi questioned. “ HAH!! The only FUN thing about you fools is defeating you in any tournament!! It’s always a treat hearing your screams when I send you to outer space!! HAHAHAHA!! “

“ There’s nothing fun about Outer Space. “ Issac snapped. “ You guys are better than fixin’ things in Space any day. These past few years have been a damn cakewalk compared to all that. I appreciate the change in atmosphere. “

“ The real fun’s been all the stupid shit we’ve been able to get into! “ Dante remarked. “ I mean, fightin’ alright, but who else is willin’ to break into Smash Manor, have a karaoke party with floatin’ heads and hands, and fight bigass monsters all in the same week? You guys know how to party. “

“ You can’t have parties without CAAAAAAKE!!!~ “ Fat Princess sang sourly. “ It’s been one yummy cake adventure after the other with you all! What could be better than making friends for life and having cake too? This Kingdom is wonderful!!!~ “ She wraps her hands around Evil Cole, who scowls, then breaks away from her.

“ i’ve never met a bigger group of annoying nobodies in my life, than all of you. yet… things were shit back at my old place. fightin’, walkin’ up and bein’ pissed at the smashers, gettin’ zeke back… honestly, i can’t think of a better place to be. “ He crossed his arms and turned away from everyone. “ just don’t think too much into it. “

“ I have lost everything I have loved. “ Kratos begins. “ Zeus and the other so-called gods robbed me of joy, so I met them with the same in return. “ He gives the old god a vicious glare. “ But this realm has reunited me with my brother. His second chance at life… I owe the Head much for that. “

Deimos happily grabs his brother by the shoulders and shakes him lovingly. “ I too owe the Head my thanks! I was slain as my brother and I reforged our bond. Now, we make up for many years lost. This realm and you all have been the hope I longed for many years ago!! TO TEN YEARS!! “ Deimos lifted his mug up high.

“ I’m pretty sure I’d be dead too if not for this place, “ Cole remarked. “ I put everything on the line to save my world, and I thought there was nothing more for me after that. Turns out, hey- Hangin’ out with a bunch of wackjobs is the life for me. It’s been a good ten years. Let’s keep it that way. “

“ As would I, “ Nariko added. “ I gave my life to protect my people… my father… Only to be brought to this strange land. You all reeked of incompetence and posessed an utter lack of strength… But getting to know you all has brought me joy upon so much pain. I thank you for that. “

“ HELLO? “ Sir Daniel motioned towards himself in muffled speech. “ I am quite literally walking dead! Ahem… This Kingdom differed greatly from Gallowmere, yet I am filled with pride to have met you all! …Most of you, anyways. To Ten Years! “ He takes a swig of his chalice, and due to his lack of lower jaw, the drink ends up entirely on the ground.

“ You all are like PESTS to me, “ Zeus said, crossing his arms. “ I had to witness my own son destroy my entire kingdom, THEN be cleaved from it entirely. I continue to be surrounded by fools and mortals… Ten years have felt like an eternity in the depths of Hades. “

“ Your description of a painful eternity is pitiful. “ Raiden remarks. “ This place is very far from any form of torture. Hell, it’s been pretty good here. I get to refine my skills, then interact with sane people. Sounds like a good ten years to me. “

“ Sane’s pushin’ it. “ Emmett scoffs. “ But you’re right. This place’s far from a hellhole. Sure we’re fightin’ but there’s a difference in fightin’ for fun, and fightin’ to make ends meet. One beats the other, that’s for damn sure. “

“ A fight, is a fight, Mr. Graves. “ Colonel Radec said, appearing out of thin air next to Emmett. “ While the Combat you all have displayed lacks a significant amount of skill, each battle brought forth unorthodox strategies. You lot possess more interesting prowess than any past enemy I have fought. No battle nor activity ends the same. As a strategist, you all are a challenge. One that, if surpassed, shall spell certain victory for the Helghast. “

“ I think we’re more than just some data on a board, “ Kat spoke up. “ We’re living, breathing people, with our own thoughts and dreams! Getting to know everyone here has been a lot of fun! I don’t know much about where I come from, but I do know a family when I see one! Thanks for making this place like a second home to me, everyone! “

“ Meeting Mishima-San and making friends with all of my favorite heroes, these past Ten Years have been great!!~ “ Toro happily hopped around. “ I couldn’t wish for anything better! “

Sackboy happily applauded his fellow All-Stars kind words. He then conjured up a few fireworks for everyone! As they exploded (it’s okay, they weren’t flammable) each of the All-Stars’ faces lit up. It was his way of celebrating everyone.

“ The future isn’t written in stone my All-Stars, but what we’ve accomplished will always be remembered. Go forth, celebrate! Tomorrow however, I expect another great battle from all of you!! “ And like that, Polygon Man disappeared into a great flash of light.

Following the announcement of another fight, there were immediate murmurs amongst the All-Stars.

“ Another battle huh? “ Sly remarked. He elbowed Drake, then tipped his hat towards him. “ Think you can still keep up, old timer? “

“ You kiddin’? I’ve been keepin’ up for ten years! Better watch your back tomorrow, ringtail. “

“ It’s on. “

Happy Ten Year Anniversary to PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale!! This game isn’t perfect to many, but it’s so special to me! Thank you all for being fans of the blog! This isn’t the end of the All-Stars and their Adventures!

#( drabble ! )#( long post! )#[ IM SO SAD I DIDN'T FINISH THIS IN TIME BUT YES ]#[ BUT YES HAPPY TEN YEARS TO THE ALLSTARS!!!!!! ]#[ i'm working on santaverse rn but the allstars are literally always on my mind!! ]#[ this ain't the end !!! ]

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helenaheissner · 12 days

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Love During Robot Fighting Time: Chapter 20

Zeke

The morning of our fight with Gregson, I woke up to find Faith making pancakes, singing along to a Brandi Carlisle song as she flipped a flapjack over, swaying her hips back and forth in a way I found difficult to describe with a word other than ‘tantalizing.’

I nearly slapped myself on the spot. I resisted the urge, both urges, and simply said, “Hey. You’re in a good mood.”

“Yes indeedy,” Faith said, shining that bright smile of hers. She wore nothing but a miniskirt and a tank top, her hair up in a messy bun, no makeup, no jewelry, utterly freaking beautiful as the morning light shined on her and refracted off her big brown eyes.

“Photoshoot yesterday go well?” I asked.

“Oh yes, very much so,” she said. Practically sang.

The microwave dinged, and she chirped as she opened it and retrieved a glass measuring cup filled with real maple syrup, the pure stuff from Maine, and poured it over a plate adorned with three pancakes all topped with pallets of butter.

She carried the plate over to me and put it in my hands, then tousled my hair and spun back around on her heel and went back to the stove. I cringed when I realized I was staring at her butt as she went back to work cooking.

“Thanks,” I managed to choke out as I sat down. A glass of orange juice and an equally tall glass of cold brew coffee awaited me at the table. “You didn’t have to do all this, though.”

“I wanted to,” she said. “How did your date with Katie go last night?”

“Good,” I said, holding the image of her cuddled up to me in the darkened movie theater in my mind, trying not to think sinful thoughts about anyone besides the girl I was currently dating. I won’t be like Dad, I won’t be like Dad, I won’t be like Dad.

“Good,” she said, soon coming over with her own plate of pancakes. She stared at me, smiling a crooked smile and tilting her head to the side. “She say anything to you?”

“Uh… About what?”

“Oh, you know, stuff.”

“Y… Yes, Faith, she did in fact say things to me about stuff at various points, though not so much when the film was playing,” I deadpanned. “Did something happen with you two yesterday?”

She shrugged.

OH COME ON!

“Sh-should I be concerned?” I asked.

“Not at all, big guy, not at all,” Faith said. She dug into her pancakes and devoured them, and I decided the best thing to do was let this one be for the time being.

***

“You guys ready for this?” Kate asked, sitting in the back seat of the Star-Rocket Racer. She’d gotten herself dressed up in a pink floral blouse with ruffled sleeves and a light blue skirt, done her makeup and hair. Faith and I, meanwhile, were going for a look Faith described as ‘a night at the opera’- she was even wearing long white gloves to go with her stark black gown. I, in contribution, had agreed to don a monocle to accompany my tuxedo.

Mrs. Calloway- Miranda, as she kept insisting I call her- had even done a bit of tailoring on my tux to make it fit better. Honestly, she was a miracle worker- suddenly the thing was a perfect match for my giant body, not pinching at the crotch or hanging too loose around the ankles like it had before.

“Not remotely,” I laughed.

“Oh c’mon, don’t be like that,” Faith said as she unbuckled herself and opened the car door.

I followed suit. “You know I love the confidence, but I’m trying to keep my expectations in check.”

“I just don’t think that’s productive,” she said, cracking her knuckles as she opened the trunk of the car while Kate helped me lower DG out onto the sledge. “We have to believe that we can do this, otherwise, we’ve no chance.”

“She raises a good point,” Kate said. Then she grabbed a fistful of my lapel and pulled me in for a kiss, white hot lust sparking inside my chest and nether-regions at the contact and… Brazenness. “Stud,” she whispered, blatant desire shooting out her eyes and going deep into my soul.

I chuckled, “Let’s not get carried away, babe.”

“No, please do, I encourage it,” Faith said with a wink, putting her arm around Kate and nuzzling her neck, damn near purring with affection.

I struggled not to picture certain… Bedroom activities the two girls I cared most about in this world might do together. It was a losing battle, and all I could do was pray I wouldn’t display any… Physical evidence of this.

Kate stroking Faith’s hair certainly didn’t help.

Seriously, what had gotten into these two lately? I knew they were friends now but it constantly looked like they were undressing each other with their eyes and giggling at their mutual proximity to both each other and to me.

It had to be my imagination. Had to be.

Just my overactive imagination, trying to make me be like Dad. But I won’t be like Dad. I can’t be like Dad. I won’t be like Dad.

We entered the Pits and got ourselves situated, only for the competition to come up to greet us amidst the roar of engines and saws and blowtorches.

George Gregson was, in a word, unassuming. Middle-aged, gray-haired, barrel-chested, average height, clean shaven, whiter than printer paper, bespectacled, clad in a black and silver Johnny Cash t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans and workman’s boots, he was not, at first glance, in any way intimidating. And yet, as he walked towards us, everyone stopped what they were doing and looked up. And looked at him. Some, like Team Forest Fire, were in awe; others, like Team Flipper, were terrified; others, like Jolly Roger’s crew, just looked furious. And plenty of others, Ultimate Frisbee and Ax-Grinder and Damage Control and Rotator Cuff and Power Play, were just embarrassed, probably because Gregson had kicked their asses at various points over the years. Ax-Grinder in particular had gotten systematically dismantled by Gregson within forty-five seconds not two weeks erstwhile; the odds of them having a functional bot again by the time of their next match hovering the hazy line between slim and none.

He ignored every single one of them, and simply walked forward in the deafening silence. He stopped in front of the three of us and looked Faith square in the eyes. For her part, Faith planted her feet and didn’t flinch.

“Good luck tonight,” Gregson said, extending a hand towards Faith.

Faith exhaled softly, and returned the handshake. “Same to you, sir.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Please, just call me George, I’m begging you. Feel old enough as is.” Then he offered me the same handshake, and I returned it as well. Holy shit, that was a tight grip! “Good luck tonight, young man.”

“Thank you, s… George.”

Finally, he turned to Katie, who I then realized was one step short of quivering. “As for you, young lady. I’m looking forward to our rematch. And I like your new look. Suits you better than the old one.”

Kate gulped, and finally shook his hand as well.

“See you kids in the ring!” he said jovially as he walked off, literally everyone in the room still staring at him as he waved good-bye to us. “And remember- it isn’t personal, when I wreck your shit! It’s just business!”

A few moments passed, and auditory stimulus slowly but surely began to permeate the pits once more as everyone finished drinking in the presence of a living legend/creature of pure nightmare.

“You okay, Kate?” I asked.

“I just… I used to want to be him, you know?” she said, turning around and putting her arms around both of us. “I think based a lot of who I used to be on who I thought he was. But I didn’t even know him, so it… It wasn’t really him, and it wasn’t really me either. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, it does,” Faith said, still smiling at her, then smiling at me as well.

I returned their shared looks of affection. At the end of the day, Gregson was just a guy. And he had a reputation to protect, so he sure as hell wasn’t gonna go easy on us because we were the young bucks trying to prove something.

But Faith and I had a reputation to protect as well. We were the defending champions, Goddammit, and we needed this win to have a shot at making a repeat title run.

And I had something else to defend as well. I didn’t want to see Faith cry again, not after the fight with Olivia, and not after everything that had happened. Regardless of how I felt about her, and about myself, on my honor as a man, I wouldn’t let that happen. And as for Kate… That look she’d given me before, the one that told me how much she was proud of me, how much she admired me, how happy she was to be mine… I’d defend that with all I had.

She’d used to want to be Gregson, because she wanted to be nothing less than the best there ever was. So the nicest thing I could do for her was show her that Gregson wasn’t the best.

Faith and I were the best.

Time to fucking prove it.

***

“AND IN THE RED SQUARE: THIS BOT WILL BRING YOU TO THE BOTTOM OF THE PIT! IT’LL SWING YOU BACK AND FORTH ALL OVER THE BOX! IT’LL TAKE YOU THERE AND BACK AGAIN! IT’S… PENDULUM!!!!” bellowed our glorious hype man while the cameras focused on Gregson and his companions, Ben Yancy and Marjorie Hennessy.

Gregson just roared with malice and delight, his mannerisms shifting to a cackling supervillain working the crowd before he did something very messed up but very, very cool. I think I understood what Kate meant now- she’d practically been emulating this guy from the moment she’d walked on stage last season.

“Gregson is a long-standing presence in this league, Marty- do you think he’s got anything to worry about in fighting the defending champions?” Derek Benes said.

“Well, I asked him about it earlier,” Marty said, “All George Gregson had to say was ‘not a chance. My victory is assured like always.’”

“Hard to argue with logic like that,” Derek responded.

And then it was our turn.

“AND IN THE BLUE SQUARE: HOPE YOU’RE READY TO RUN SOME DRILLS! BECAUSE THIS BOT ALWAYS GETS RIGHT TO THE POINT! IT’LL MAKE YOU DO A MULTI-PRONGED ASSAULT! IT’S… DAI GURREN!!!!”

The crowd cheered, and the cameras turned towards us, and through all the noise, I heard Kate and her parents screaming louder than anybody. I noticed Faith’s hands shaking just a little bit- that confidence was evidently something she’d been practicing for all of our benefits- and I put a hand on her shoulder while my free hand punched the sky and cheered.

After a second’s hesitation, Faith did the same.

“Faith Watanabe and Zeke Underhill have… Not been having the best season so far, all things considered,” Marty said. “With a tied record halfway into the regular season, and one of those matches frequently being called a ‘fluke-’”

“Say what now?” Faith growled under her breath.

“Many are wondering if Dai Gurren is just a flash in the pan,” Weston continued.

“Well, I think that’s a little unfair to Watanabe and Underhill- as a former heavyweight champion of the world, I can tell you first hand that defending a title is a massive amount of pressure for anyone, let alone two young people barely a year out of college.”

“Well, then only time will tell,” Marty said. “Let’s get ready to fight.”

My heartbeat soared, and I concentrated on breathing, in and out, in and out, in and out, as we led our bot into the battle box. Dai Gurren and Gurren were situated in our square while we climbed into our control zone.

“ROBOTS! ACTIVATE!” intoned the mechanical overhead voice.

Just like we practiced, Faith and I had DG and G scramble, DG bearing left and G to the right. Pendulum went directly after DG, and Faith twisted DG out of the way of the first swing of the upper-cut hammer.

She delivered the first blow, puncturing Pendulum’s armor on its left hand side and pushing against it. Unfortunately, the damn thing was just plain heavier than DG and would not budge. Gregson laughed raucously as his bot pivoted at a sharp angle and broke free of DG and launched its uppercut again. DG barely made it out of the way while I had G take Pendulum from behind and leave an incision in the back of it.

Gregson proceeded to completely ignore me, and continued chasing after DG. Slow and steady, he chased after DG as Faith slowly led him toward the rotating screws. She had DG sit stationary in front of the screws, waiting, waiting, waiting ‘till Pendulum was right in front of her and launching its uppercut.

DG drove out of the way at the last possible second, sustaining a slight clip on its side that made one of the wheels wobble. The uppercut collided with the screws and stopped them entirely as the rotators were torn loose and a giant cylinder of serrated metal fell onto the arena floor.

“WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT! WHAT A DISPLAY OF PENDULUM’S RAW POWER! UNBELIEVABLE!” Marty screamed. Seriously, how much cocaine was that man on?

I drove G into Pendulum’s tract again, chipping away at it as he drove away from me yet again. “Don’t you freaking ignore me!” I grunted.

“Hm? What was that?” Gregson said, an evil chuckle lacing his words.

“Son of a-”

“Stay calm, Zeke,” Faith said evenly. “Just do it like we practiced. Like we planned for.”

I exhaled. “Right.”

I flanked across the side of the box while Faith led Gregson towards the overhead hammer at the other end and tried the same trick as last time, dodging more successfully. The hope was that the impact of Gregson’s uppercut against the vertical hammer’s downward assault would disable Pendulum’s primary weapon, but unfortunately it had the opposite effect of tearing the overhead hammer off of its hinges and sending it flying into the glass surrounding the box. It landed in front of the announcers and buried itself in the shield, leaving both men screaming.

Faith turned and went at Pendulum’s left side again, perfectly matching the holes she’d already drilled, while I did some more damage to his left tread.

Pendulum rotated.

DG and G both rotated as well, trying to avoid the line of fire.

That was when DG’s wheel broke off.

“NO!” Faith screamed as DG stumbled onto its side.

“Oh HELL! LOOKS LIKE THAT WING-CLIP DID MORE DAMAGE THAN WE THOUGHT!” Derek screamed.

“MWAHAHAHAHAHA!” Gregson cackled. He wasted no time and aimed his weapon.

He fired.

DG took the hit directly to its face plate, and all of our drills shattered as its front was caved in and sent flying back. It went careening to the other end and impacted against the glass on the audience side of the box, falling in a crushed heap onto the rafters.

I wanted to scream, to lose it as well, but I had a job to do.

Faith looked ready to cry.

Me? I couldn’t take that lying down.

Pendulum’s uppercut hadn’t returned to its station yet, so I drove Gurren directly into the slot and plunged the titanium drill into the magnet propellant. I dove out as soon as I was in, finding, mercifully, that the uppercut wasn’t returning to its home. It couldn’t. The similarly-charged magnets on both ends wouldn’t let it get any closer than it already was, reducing it to a blunt instrument stuck at a forty-five degree angle.

“OH HELL NO! The mini-bot Gurren has disabled Pendulum’s primary weapon! Without that, it’s just a mighty glacier!”

I couldn’t stop there. I went back to the point on Pendulum’s tread I’d been working on plunged back in, my hands sweating as I held the button down on my control pad, ripping apart the opposing bot’s mobility.

It tried to move after me, but I went on the retreat. Gregson’s left tread was totally disabled, meaning it had to rely entirely on its right to haul its massive bulk. It tried to rotate to get a decent angle on me, and Gregson grunted as he poured all the power into the right tread…

… Only for the poor balance of the stuck weapon to work against it as it turned.

Pendulum fell onto its side, remaining stationary as it rested on its broken tread.

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” Marty screamed. I wonder if the live-bleepers got that one on time. “ARE YOU SEEING THIS, DEREK?!”

“OH I’M SEEING IT MARTY!” Derek screamed. “I’M JUST NOT SURE MY AGED EYES CAN BELIEVE IT!”

I could have cried. I could have laughed. But honestly… I was too stunned to do anything besides stand there with my jaw in pieces on the floor. I can’t believe that worked. I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT FUCKING WORKED! HOLY SHIT ON A DICK THAT ACTUALLY FUCKING WORKED!!

“Gonna need to see some movement,” the referee said to Gregson.

“Yeah, that’s a tall order right now,” Gregson said, laughing bitterly as he spun the right tread that hung above his broken bot.

“10! 9! 8!”

The countdown continued, and elation bubbled through me as I drove G around the box for a victory lap, still incapable of closing my mouth.

“1! That’s game!” the referee said. “Team Dai Gurren wins!”

“LET’S HEAR IT FOR THE DEFENDING CHAMPIONS!” Marty roared.

The crowd went crazy, so loud I couldn’t make out Katie’s voice amidst all the disparate sounds. Next to me, Faith held her hands over her mouth, tears streaming out her eyes, too stunned to move. I’d sworn I wouldn’t let her cry again, and I suppose I’d failed at that particular endeavor, but… From where I was standing, those looked an awful lot like happy tears.

There was only one thing I could think to do.

I gave a bow and a flourish of my arm and said, “Fair lady. May I have this dance?”

She gulped, looking up at me like she was the happiest woman in the world. And I’d made that happen. I’d done that for her. The impossible. I’d killed a fucking giant for her.

The post-fight interview was a blur, as was Gregson coming up and giving us both big old bear hugs, congratulating us on the win, saying we’d given him a helluva fight and that we were worthy opponents and he was looking forward to seeing us in the playoffs. Under the hammy exterior, he really was a good dude.

We brought the obliterated remains of DG back into the pits. I held G in my hands, stroking like a damn bunny. I knew it was an inanimate object- that both of them were- but at that moment it felt like as much Gurren’s victory as mine. The little guy had really come through for us. We had a lot of work to do on repairs, and we could have stayed for the rest of the matches, but without even having to say a word to each other, we knew we were done for the night. So we put our equipment on a sledge and hauled it out to the Star-Rocket Racer. Kate leaned against the car waiting for us, and she ran over and planted a kiss on my lips, long and passionate.

“I am so freaking proud of you,” Kate said to me, her arms around my neck, mine around her waist. She tilted her head and looked at Faith and said, “And you, too!”

Faith chuckled. “Does that mean I get a kiss as well?”

Kate gulped, and I expected her to laugh, but then she said, “Only if Zeke says it’s okay.”

I blanched. “Um… What?”

“Is it okay?

“W-what is happening right now?” I said, my head spinning, my heart racing, elicit images sparking in my mind, of the two of them, of all three of us.

Faith gave Kate a shallow nod and a thumbs’ up.

“I… Faith and I talked the other day,” Kate said, pulling herself off of me but not breaking off eye contact. “And she-”

“I like Kate,” Faith said. “And I like you, Zeke. I like you both. And I know that’s true for you as well.”

For a moment, I thought my heart would stop. I wouldn’t be like my dad, couldn’t be like him, shouldn’t be-

“If you’re not comfortable with it,” Kate said, “We can forget about all this.”

“I can’t be like him,” I said, barely more than a whisper.

“You won’t be,” Kate said, putting a reassuring arm on my shoulder. “Because… I like Faith, too.”

For once, I noticed myself crying. It wasn’t sad, though, and it wasn’t shameful, and it wasn’t envious. They were tears of relief. She… They both… They both liked me, and each other, and we all…

The possibility had never even occurred that they could feel the same way about each other as they did about me. I don’t know why, it made perfect sense; they were both amazing, beautiful, intelligent, and so damn sweet. I didn’t want to be like my dad, but I was pretty damn sure my dad had never even talked about the possibility of this with my mom. Not that she’d have ever agreed- she was old fashioned and close-minded. They both were.

And I didn’t want to be like either of them.

We all liked each other. And that was okay. More than okay, that was beautiful. And I wanted it. I wanted both of them, and I wanted them both to have each other as well as me.

“Ladies first,” I said, gesturing to Faith. Faith gasped, “You mean-” She didn’t get to finish, because Kate was already locking lips with her within a second.

It was the most heartening sight I’d ever seen, the two girls I cared about more than anything else in the world sharing mutual affection for each other, and letting me have this moment with them. And when it was over, Kate pushed Faith, the nervous, shaking girl that I’d loved for so damn long, towards me.

“You know this is gonna be complicated, right?” I said. “Lotta work from all three of us to make something like this function.”

“I know,” Faith nodded bashfully, blushing bright red. “I’m up for it if you are, though. I’m not scared anymore.”

“You know what?” I said. “Neither am I.”

She stood on her tip-toes, and I leaned over, and our lips met. She was soft and sweet, her body pressing against mine, the curve of her hips glorious as my hands ran over them. Her lipstick was thicker and waxier than Kate’s… No, no that wasn’t right. Some of Kate’s had gotten onto Faith’s lips, leaving it thicker than when she’d started. An aftermath of her grace and affection, evidence of her having been there and an extra treat for me to taste and a reminder of the affection we both had for Faith.

That just made it better.

I picked Faith up into my arms and held her tight, slipping tongue into her mouth as she did the same with me. Kate hugged us both, taking turns kissing us on the cheeks, and then we broke off and started kissing her as well.

When that had run its course, we found ourselves dancing once again, all three of us together, keeping time and rhythm, delighting in each other’s company.

Tonight, I had slain a giant.

Tonight, I was with the two most beautiful women in the world, and they cared for each other just as much as they cared for me.

Tonight, I was the luckiest man in the world.

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aloudplace · 18 days

Text

Dirty thoughts 8

Loki had her once on the bed with her legs around his waist, slow and deliberate, holding back until she begged him blindly for release. Enamored of the sight of her, lifting her body to him, breasts bouncing with every thrust. She watched his body as though it were the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. Touched him like she couldn't get enough, dark eyes gleaming with lust. She was so wet that he could hear every penetration, like a soft, liquid kiss. He came with his cock buried to the hilt, her little sex spasming around him, her cries driving him higher.

Then he dragged her to the edge of the mattress and had her again, bent over with her ass turned up to him, watching the smooth contours of her back and shoulders while he rode her. Watching his cock move in and out of her body. Bending to bite her shoulder in the final rush, pinning her little arms and pumping fiercely. The angle made her wild; she clutched the blanket and screamed when she came–-which happened twice before he was done. His own orgasm was positively explosive.

Afterward, he brought the rag again, cleaned her up, fascinated by how pink the folds of her sex were in daylight. How swollen. How stiff and puffy her little clit was. Stroking it slowly–-until she was wet again–-and then bending to suckle her in a hot, languid haze. She came that time with both hands tangled in his hair and his name tumbling from her lips like a benediction.

It was nearly noon when he finally let her up long enough to cook for them; they were both ravenous.

She made coffee, an enormous omelet with cheese and spinach, four pieces of buttered toast, and a stack of pancakes as well. They devoured it together, eating from each others' plates, talking and laughing the whole time.

Like lovers.

It felt delightfully...natural.

Loki was leaning back in his chair, watching Bella nibble the last piece of toast when there was a knock at the door.

They both froze.

"Are you expecting someone?" he asked.

Bella shook her head and glanced down at herself. She'd put a clean t-shirt on–-a long one with a wide, scooped neck that slipped to the side and left one shoulder exposed–-but nothing else. Her legs were bare and her breasts clearly visible through the thin material.

The knock came again and she called, "Just a minute!" and ran into the bedroom. She came out a moment later and he saw her pass by the kitchen doorway, belting a flowered silk robe around her waist.

He heard the click of the lock and then a familiar masculine voice saying, "Bella. Hi. Uh... I'm sorry to disturb you."

Bloody hell.

"Hi, Thor," she said calmly.

"Have you seen my brother, by any chance? He's been missing since yesterday. Stark said you might have an idea where he's gone."

Bella didn't answer immediately, no doubt wondering if she should reveal his presence. Loki stood and came to the kitchen doorway, leaning lazily against the jam, arms crossed.

"Hello, Brother."

Thor spotted him over Bella's shoulder and his one eye widened comically. "Loki! What–-?"

"Miss me already?"

Thor's gaze flicked from Bella to Loki in obvious confusion. "What are you doing here?"

"I should think that's rather obvious," Loki drawled. He was shirtless, hair undoubtedly mussed.

Bella glanced back at him nervously.

"Bella? Are you...?" Thor blinked at her in shock.

She smiled at him sheepishly, shrugging her shoulders.

"By the Gods...the two of you...?" he looked at Loki again.

"Did you want something, Brother?" Loki returned tartly, "Or did you just come here to gape at us like an idiot?"

Bella gave him a quelling look.

Thor seemed to shake off his disbelief. "You were supposed to return to Stark Tower last night, Loki. That was the agreement. And you've been cloaking yourself. Heimdall couldn't find you. We thought..." he trailed off, glancing at Bella.

"You thought I'd run off and betrayed you again?" Loki suggested archly.

"Well," Thor had the grace to look a bit ashamed. "Can you blame me?"

"He's been here since last night," Bella interjected.

"Right. That's...good," Thor glanced down at her robe–-at her breasts, Loki realized, bristling instantly. "But he was supposed to return. And he's not allowed to cloak himself." To Loki, he said angrily, "You were given express instructions not to, Brother."

"Has it occurred to you that I might have wanted a little privacy?" Loki drawled.

The anger faltered. "Yes, well...I guess, under the circumstances, that's...understandable." Was Thor actually blushing? His gaze slid to Bella again-–to the front of her robe and lower, to her bare legs. Loki came away from the kitchen door jam, stalking across the room to them.

"If there's nothing else, Brother," he put a hand on Bella's shoulder and steered her away from Thor, using his body to block Thor's view of her. "We are rather busy. Perhaps you will be so kind as to report my whereabouts to Stark and assuage everyone's worries?" He started to close the door and Thor stopped him with one hand.

"No more cloaking, Loki. And you're to return by sundown."

Loki sneered. "Not a chance, Brother."

Thor opened his mouth to argue, but Bella interrupted, peeking around Loki's shoulder.

"I'll call Stark, okay?"

Thor was scowling, "Fine. But don't let him out of your sight."

Loki shut the door in his face and they could both hear Thor muttering curses outside.

"That wasn't very nice," Bella murmured.

Loki turned. She was fighting a smile.

"It wasn't," he agreed. "My brother is sadly lacking in social niceties."

The smile turned into a grin. "He was just a little disconcerted, I think. It must have been very unexpected, to find you, er, dallying with a human."

"Dallying?" Loki grinned, backing her slowly towards the bedroom. "I thought we decided this was a semi-committed relationship? Does one dally with one's boyfriend?"

She giggled, "That word sounds kind of silly, coming out of your mouth."

"Mm," he took hold of her waist and lifted her against his body. She obligingly wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. "The term does have a rather juvenile sound to it: Boyfriend."

He walked her into the bedroom and laid her on the edge of the mattress, leaning over her with one hand braced beside her shoulder. He tugged at the tie of her robe with the other.

"I'm not sure I can do this again, Loki," she said softly, eyes already dark with desire.

"Oh?" The robe was open and he was pushing the shirt up slowly, palming her breast. "Why is that?"

Her breath hitched at the touch. "I'm really sore."

"Oh dear," he murmured, circling her nipple with his fingertips. "Does it hurt here?"

She nodded.

The flesh was rather red and puffy from all his attention. He bent and kissed the little nub very gently.

"And here?" he murmured, kissing the other one.

"Yes," she breathed.

Loki pulled one of her legs off his hip and slid his hand up her inner thigh to part the lips of her sex, touching her clit with his fingertip. "Here?"

"N-no."

His finger slipped downward, through the welling of fresh wetness, to touch the opening of her sex. "Here?"

Again, she nodded.

Very gently, he slid one finger inside. "And here?"

Breathless now, she whispered, "Yes."

So delicate, he thought darkly. "You're in luck, sweetheart. I have just the thing."

"Oh?" She was running her hands up his back.

"Mmhm," he kissed her very lightly, teasingly; her lips were nearly raw as well. Then he pulled back and conjured a little pot of healing salve.

Bella's eyebrows shot up. "What's that?"

"Something to make you feel better. Open it." He put the pot in her hand and she twisted off the top.

"Smells good," she murmured, "What's in it?"

Loki dipped his finger into the creamy substance. "Oh, various things. Asgardian herbs. Honey. A bit of spellwork." He rubbed the cream on her right nipple, and then her left.

She sucked in a breath. "That's cold. And it tingles."

"Shh," he traced a little onto her lips and then pulled back again, dipping his finger into the pot and then bringing that finger to the mouth of her sex.

She gasped a little when he slipped the digit inside. "It sort of tickles."

He smiled, "It's accelerating your body's healing capabilities. You should feel better in a little while." He withdrew his finger and brought it to his mouth. The cream tasted sweet and slightly floral. It blended perfectly with the flavor of Bella's sex.

"What should we do until then?" she asked breathlessly, gaze trained on his mouth.

"What do Midgardian couples do when they're not making love?" Loki settled his lower body against her, bracing his other hand on the mattress.

Bella curled her legs around him again. "Cuddle?"

He laughed, "Is that all?"

"Watch TV and cuddle?"

"Hm. I'd like to know exactly what kind of privileges a boyfriend is afforded," he parried archly. "Perhaps you could give me a demonstration."

"I have been," she said, smiling. "I let you sleep over. And I washed you and cooked for you."

"Do lovers not do those things on Midgard?"

She seemed to consider that. "Maybe some do."

"But you don't."

Slowly, gravely, she shook her head.

"What else don't you do with a lover?"

"Watch TV and cuddle," she replied very seriously.

Loki laughed. "Alright," he stood up, lifting her easily, "You win. TV and cuddle."

............................................................

I left Loki on the couch with the remote in hand, instructing him to find something he wanted to watch. Then I went into the bedroom, closed the door, and took my cell phone out of my purse. It was the first time I'd looked at it since the evening before.

Six missed calls. Shit.

All of them were from someone at Stark Tower. Three from the security office. Two from Thor. One from Tony's private line.

I dialed Stark.

"'Bout time," he answered dryly.

"Sorry, Tony. I left it on silent."

"Bit preoccupied, hm? Have some company over?"

I flushed. "He's here. Has been since last night."

"Of course he is." It was usually harder for me to read people over the phone, but Stark was amused. Not angry in the slightest.

"He didn't tell me he was supposed to come back though. I would have made him go."

"Is he listening now?"

"I don't know. Possibly."

"Have you learned anything new?"

That gave me pause. "New? Like what?"

But I thought about the dream, about Thanos-–whom I'd never heard of before last night. And the Tesseract; that did ring a bell. A frightening one. But dreams weren't facts, and I shrunk from the thought of sharing what I'd seen with Tony. And not just because I didn't fully understand what it had been about.

"You have learned something," Tony murmured. He wasn't surprised at all. He'd expected it.

No, he'd been banking on it.

"You knew this would happen," I accused quietly.

"I suspected."

We'd had this conversation before, I realized. When he'd interrupted Loki kissing me at work the day before.

The realization hit me like a freight train.

Stark had been manipulating me since the moment he realized Loki and I had feelings for each other.

"You planned this," I whispered in horror.

"Bella-–"

"What do you expect to gain?" I demanded in a low voice. "I care about him. My loyalty to you is compromised now. You had to know that would happen."

"I also know I can trust you to be honest. If you discover something sensitive-–"

"You still think I will?"

"I think Loki is hiding something, yes."

"And you decided to use me as the involuntary honeypot," I hissed, angry now. Furious.

"I saw an opportunity, and I took it," he replied, utterly unapologetic. "We're talking about the safety of the planet here, sweetheart. A few hurt feelings is a price I'm willing to pay."

I was so angry I couldn't speak. Tony was right–-about the safety of the planet, and about Loki. He was hiding something. But I felt stupid and betrayed, and my relationship with the God of Mischief meant I was going to have to betray someone: either Loki or Stark.

"Listen, I know this puts you in a difficult position," he said carefully.

"You unbelievable asshole," I snapped, shocking myself.

"I'm sorry, Bella. I really am."

His sincerity made me even angrier. "But you expect me to play along, don't you? You think I'm going to play the honeypot willingly now?"

"Actually, I kind of expected you to quit."

"Now there's an idea I can really get behind," I said bitterly.

"Look, whatever you decide, Loki is still a potential threat. He may actually be willing to play for our team now, but we can't just trust him blindly. You're the only one who can-–"

"Enough," I cut him off. "I get it. You gave him his freedom so he'd let his guard down and now I'm supposed to take advantage of that. Only that's not how I function, Tony. I'm not a spy."

"I know you're not, honey-–"

"I'm going to tell him," I said, tears burning my eyes.

I could feel Tony's shock. "Bella, don't-–"

"I couldn't hide it from him even if I wanted to. He's probably listening at the door right now anyway."

On cue, the door swung open and Loki was standing there, shirtless and beautiful, green eyes cold as ice.

Tony was sputtering in my ear but I'd stopped listening.

"I have to go, Tony. I'm not coming in on Monday. Or ever. I'm sorry."

And then I hung up.

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