#I don’t wanna rush or force anything it’ll look like crap

[zombvibes]

Shout out people who like my aus, I’m sorry for not doing more. Here’s your apology cake. 🍰

[benditlikepress]

one good movie kiss

here for @sunforgrace 's thesis statement: give dean one good movie kiss and he WILL be alright

“Are you avoiding me?”

Dean’s hand stills in the air above his cup of coffee as the voice cuts through the kitchen.

Cas is standing in the middle of the room in an ill-fitting sweater and his hair is dishevelled as though he’s been tossing and turning. He looks so unremarkable, so human, it makes Dean’s breath catch in his throat at the reminder.

It’s been three days since Cas got back and it occurs to Dean when he speaks that it’s the first time they’ve been alone together. Awake, that is: Dean realised early on that difficult conversations couldn’t happen if you’re asleep. Thank god for Cas’ Empty-rescue hangover.

“No. I’m not avoiding you.”

“OK. Good. I was worried that after what happened things might be weird between us, but I suppose that’s unavoidable.” Cas pulls a face that’s a little self-deprecating.

I’m fighting the urge to run the hell away from you, Dean thinks. To stay the hell away from you before I do anything else to hurt you. Before you make a reckless decision to save me, again, or say something so brutal and true that my legs give out from under me and I’m left sitting alone on the floor wondering how the hell I’m supposed to do this on my own.

I’m fighting the urge to wrap you in my arms and never let go.

“I’m not avoiding you, Cas. I just.. I’m trying to figure out the stuff I have to say to you.”

“I understand. I know everything that’s happened recently is a lot to contend with.”

“Yeah, that’s an understatement.” Dean coughs and stands up, tapping his hands against his legs for something to do. Cas is looking at him expectantly and Dean knows he deserves answers but how is he supposed to do that? How do you even begin to explain to someone that their mere presence in the room has your breath hitching? “But it’s not.. you. It’s not you I’m avoiding. It’s just. Y’know. The stuff you said before you..” He doesn’t say it. He can’t. Cas blinks.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. That’s – god, that’s the last thing I want. I’m just.. trying to get my head around it.”

“I meant it.”

“I know you did. I know that. I just.. I believe you, and nobody’s ever really said that stuff to me and meant it before. So I don’t really know how to talk to you about it. But I.. so long as you know I appreciate it.” The words are too fast and Dean doesn’t know if that’s more or less embarrassing than the way he’s stumbling, pathetic half-words forcing their way out of his mouth.

“OK.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

And it’s that simple to him, apparently. He doesn’t ask Dean for anything else. It pisses Dean off, actually – he wants Cas to ask him. Maybe if he’s forced to confront it the words might come out a little easier.

“I mean, you know that I.” Dean stops again abruptly and jesus christ why is there a lump in his throat? “It means something. To me. It means a whole lot, actually. Maybe if it didn’t it’d be easier to talk about. There’s stuff that I wanna.. stuff I need for you to hear. That you deserve to hear, when I get my head out of my ass. Because I don’t feel like I deserve any of that crap you said to me, but you deserve to hear things back.”

It feels like a monumental admission but it’s clearly not the thing on Cas’ mind as he frowns.

“You think you don’t deserve that? You really believe that?”

“Honestly? I’ve never believed it. I don’t know why you give me the time of day half the time, man. And you don’t have to.. argue about it, or anything. I know you want to. It’s just how I see it.”

Cas thinks about that for a couple of seconds, eyes boring into Dean so deeply he half-wonders if he can’t still see his soul. He walks further into the room but doesn’t approach Dean – not really. Just takes a couple of steps between the distance.

“I won’t argue. Not now. But I hope I can make you understand that you deserve it. Happiness, peace.. love-” The word has Dean’s mind reeling, flashbacks and heat rushing “– I spent a long time believing I couldn’t accept them for myself. I thought too much had happened, or that I wasn’t built to be capable. You allowed me to think differently. I want you to do the same.” Cas looks down and taps his hand on the edge of the table as though he hasn’t got Dean’s heart in the palm of it. He looks up again and his expression is breath-takingly earnest. “Dean, the things I said barely touch the sides. I don’t know if I could ever put into words the impact you’ve had on me since we met. I just wanted you to understand. I needed you to understand how other people see you, even if you can’t see it for yourself.”

“Message received.” Dean responds like a fucking asshole but Cas smiles all the same, warm and knowing and in a way that fills Dean with the relief of being understood.

“I can give you space to think about things if that’s what you want. I know I’ve put you in a difficult position.”

“It’s not difficult. Probably not for anyone else except me.”

Dean smiles in derision and Cas returns it but it’s pity and sadness and love and Dean’s mouth closes. “It was difficult. I threw things at you that’d been on my mind for a long time and didn’t give you any time to process it.”

“I’ve had weeks. Weeks and weeks, and I still can’t.. I think until I saw you again I had no idea how to understand it. Looking you in the eye and thinking about it-” Dean closes his eyes and pushes away black ooze and secrets and everything else that threatens to flow over the things he wants to remember. Tears in Cas’ eyes and his smile so bright, brighter than Dean even thought him capable.

He’s looking at him now like he might break.

“I’m sorry, Cas. I know I’m not-”

“I know exactly what you are, Dean.” The words are clear and sincere and Dean wonders if there’s anyone else in the universe capable of arresting him so simply. “I’ll leave you to it.” Cas eventually nods at Dean’s breakfast and smiles, dipping his head as he starts to leave.

“We’ll talk. We will.”

“I know we will.” He smiles a little as he turns to walk away and suddenly Dean’s heart is in his mouth at the sight of the back of his head.

Say something. Say something.

“Cas.” Dean calls too quickly, too desperately, and when he turns to look at him with naked expectation all of the wind is knocked right back out of his sails. “I… fuck, Cas. I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He smiles with complete and utter sincerity, and god he has to stop doing that. Stop accepting Dean’s bullshit as though it’s nothing. Shout, argue, anything.

He’s leaving. He’s still leaving, he’s turning away and suddenly Dean’s legs are propelling him through the kitchen of their own accord.

Dean grabs his arm and yanks him around, the force of it making Cas briefly stumble a little before he straightens his feet and looks at Dean with a wide-eyed confusion that makes Dean’s heart hammer in his chest.

Dean brings his hands up to cup Cas’ face around his ears on his neck and jaw, in a way he has before and convinced himself wasn’t ever possible when they weren’t battling life or death. Cas’ stubble is a little longer than usual and he strokes the line of it with his thumb, watching as Cas’ mouth falls open just a touch in the echoing silence.

Dean takes his time, registering every mini-movement of expression in Cas’ face as he understands what’s happening. His hand comes up to Dean’s wrist but doesn’t push it away, rather grips it for dear life as though he’s afraid it’s going to disappear. When Cas’ eyes travel down his face Dean takes it as invitation and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips lightly but surely against Cas’.

At first Cas’ are stunned frozen against his and Dean starts to panic that he’s made some kind of earth-shattering error in judgement before the hand on his wrist relaxes and he feels a pressure against his mouth. Cas’ lips are a little chapped, like always, and Dean feels his eyelashes flutter.

He opens his eyes reluctantly as he pulls away, not sure what he’s expecting to see (rejection? Lucifer? nothing at all?) and almost slams them shut again when he finds Cas peering at him with such utter arresting devotion he thinks his knees might buckle.

Dean’s hands drop to his sides of their own accord, suddenly absolutely terrified, but Cas doesn’t move away in return. In fact, he brings his hand to Dean’s cheek and Dean’s sure he must look like a fish opening and closing his mouth in stunned silence before suddenly Cas moves in to kiss him again, other hand coming up to grab his face and hold him in place as his lips are ferocious and impassioned against his own.

And this, this is more like it, Dean’s barely able to think as Cas’ mouth opens and his tongue plays along the line of Dean’s own lips, his heart hammering in his chest as he hears a noise in Cas’ throat as he allows him entrance.

Cas kisses like he’s never going to get another chance: like Dean has granted him a once-in-a-lifetime wish that’s going to get taken away at any moment. He’s hungry and sharp and warm and Dean feels breathless as he lowers his hands from his face to his neck and then to his hip, pulling Dean sharply against him as Dean’s own hands cup his jaw and try desperately to gain a semblance of control.

There’s stubble scratching his face and he tries fleetingly to explain away the flushing burn on his skin as a by-product of it, but then there’s a hand riding up his shirt onto on the bare skin at the small of his back and it’s on fire.

Where the hell did Cas learn to kiss like this? His head is spinning before he can ponder the question and fingers on his back are steady and grounding even as Cas’ tongue and lips and breath have him practically able to feel the earth spinning beneath him.  

The kiss slows steadily and then all at once as Cas’ lips lighten against his, and he feels him exhale against his skin in a release that Dean himself is desperate for. He knows it’ll come, eventually: in every moment he allows himself to open like this, touch on his skin making him feel alive.

Cas pulls away and Dean feels a longing form deeply and harshly in his throat that barely stops him from yanking him straight back in again. He forces himself to open his eyes, wondering if Cas can see water pricking in the corners of them.

“Don’t give me space, Cas. I don’t want it.” He manages to say though his voice sounds foreign and weird to his own ears, like it’s formed by someone else. There’s that smile on Cas’ lips again and he feels a desperation to say something, anything, that’ll keep it frozen in time. “Just stay.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I know.” Cas’ own voice is quiet now and Dean’s fingers somehow find themselves reaching out towards Cas’ hand, pulling it a little.

“You wanna do something today?” He says, just for something to say. Anything to prolong the moment.

“OK.”

“Sweet.” Dean nods and tips his head away, running a hand through his hair to try to gain some composure as Cas smiles at him as though nothing’s happened.

Dean has to pinch himself to check that it has.

[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

An old friend of Giyuu

Just a short drabble

“Come on Mitsuri, just hold it longer,” Obani spoke as the two were leaning against each other.

“For fuck sake! My fuckin’ back!” Sanemi complain as he had Shinobu did her best to wrap the large slash on his back in the minimal amount of bandages she had.

“It’ll be alright. We’ll get home soon.” Shinobu spoke as her eyebrows knitted together, her legs feeling weak, she almost fell by Tengen caught her.

“We can’t keep this up for the whole walk home,” Tengen suggested looking back at the semi-new kids, Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu. “They’re exhausted, we’re exhausted. I suggest we stay somewhere flamboyant-”

Giyuu stayed quiet as he looked up, his crow coming down quickly and landing on his hand.

Giyuu looked at the bird with his bland eyes, petting the bird lightly with his bruised hand. “Please, see that Y/n can make room for us at her home,” Giyuu asked as the bird nodded.

“There’s twelve of us. Including a demon, but she’s not harmful.” Giyuu told the bird and then flew off as he soared into the night sky.

“You’re talking to your girlfriend in a time like this?” Muchiro stated bluntly.

Giyuu stayed quiet as he looked forward awaiting an answer from the crow as they walked forward, within twenty minutes the crow had arrived, with a scroll in hand and another bird with it.

“Gomei,” Giyuu spoke as the second bird landed on Giyuu’s head, it’s feathers like ice with a chain around its neck.

His own bird dropped the scroll in Giyuu’s hands as he opened it up.

“Well, what a beautiful bird!” Rengoku smiled as the bird glided over to the fire pillar, taking a seat on his head.

“Wow! It’s an Ice Phoenix! I’m surprised he’s taking a seat on your head! But they melt into ice if they bring-”

Tanjiro was interrupted as the bird melted into a large puddle of water, making Rengoku laugh happily as if he wasn’t beaten to a pulp and bleeding. 

“What a great personality! I bet the owner is just as Spunky!” Rengoku spoke happily as he held a smile on his face.

“She’s allowing us over, she said she’s busy so meet her in the rice fields,” Giyuu spoke out.

“That’s just past the trees,” Tengen informed.

“She must be sweet! If she’s allowing us over even when she’s busy!” Mitsuri gushed. “We have to repay her.”

Giyuu sighed, “Good luck with that I tried.” he mumbled.

“What was that?” Shinobu teased

“We should get going,” Giyuu spoke as he walked forward the others looked at each other and pressed forward as well.

The walk was short as they made it to the rice fields, where they heard kids running around. Yelling for each other as one couldn’t catch each other, there was a splash of water as the kids jumped in the empty water bank from already being harvested. The group stood at the edge of the forest looking out as they noticed the only adult in the next bank, a child on her back and a large basket on her head as she tossed stalks into it carefree as if she had done it day in and day out. The pillars started walking slowly fatigue really catching up with them now, the kids noticed as they quickly exited the empty bank and ran towards the woman as quickly as possible.

“Y/n! Y/n!” They called out as they quickly slid into the water to hide behind her.

“Huh?” She asked turning her head, as she saw the two kids scared out there minds.

“They have swords! They’re gonna hurt you!” the kids cried.

“Now when have I ever let anything happen to any of us.” she smiled as tears brimmed there eyes,” Stay behind me and I’ll take care of it.”

They only nodded as they hid in the water as she climbed up the slope with her full basket as Rengoku rushed over, helping her by grabbing the basket.

“Oh- Thank you-” She paused looking at him.

 “Your face! It’s all cut up! Is this dry blood?” She asked grabbing his cheek softly and trying to rub some off lightly. “ Come! come! I’ll take you to my house! Oh god, you poor baby!” She ushered.

“Y/n.” 

She turned her head seeing Giyuu standing there covering her mouth she looked at the wreck of a state her friend was in. “Oh, Giyuu…”

He gulped as he slightly started to sweat, as she walked up to him holding his face in her hands. “You’re all beat up…” She looked as she was about to cry tears as she snapped.

“YOU PIECE OF CRAP! HOW DARE YOU!” She slapped his face, making the pillars jump. “HOW DARE YOU COME TO ME IN YOUR STATE OF CONDITION! ALL BEAT UP! YOU KNOW I CARE YOU BITCH!”

She grabbed his face against and pulled him into a quick hug, tears brimming her eyes as Giyu sighed his cheeks a slight red.

“Please! All! Hurry I’ll allow you to my house! And then! I’ll drop the kids off! I’ll tend to all your wounds! No charge!” She cheered pulling Giyuu along while the others still stood there, while she passed by Rengoku she put the basket back on her head and then gestured them all to follow her.

“Kids! They’re safe! There my old friends! Remember the stories!” 

They soon when from terrified to stars in their eyes, they were told great tales about the pillars from Y/n and certainly were indulged in becoming one themselves as the group followed Y/n.

“Wait! Wait! I wanna stay! Please! I wanna meet the loudest Pillar! He’s awesome!” The young boy shouted pulling on Y/n’s arm.

“No! The water pillar obviously better!” The girl protested.

“Yeah! Well, no one likes the water pillar!” 

“Everybody likes the water pillar! He’s friends with everybody!” 

The two kids growled at each other.

“yeah well, there’s the mist pillar! he’s just as awesome!” The boy protested.

“So is the snake pillar!” The girl argued.

“And the stone pillar!” They shouted at each other.

“The wind pillar can fly!” they shouted.

“Stop copying me!”

“The Insect pillar is the smartest!” The boy argued.

“yeah duh!  the love pillar is the prettiest! and shes strong!” The girl defended.

“Yeah! I know that!” The boy shouted.

“Matsuda.” Y/n stated as the boy looked up at her, “Aiko.” Y/n smiled as the girl looked up at her, and the baby whined. 

“And Riku.” Y/n smiled the baby cheered happily as the pillars listened.

“You’re forgetting a pillar.” Y/n spoke.

Giyuu looked blankly at her, “Please don’t get them started yelling about-”

“THE FLAME PILLAR!” They shouted on key as they jumped up and down.

“Such fan girls and boys…” Shinobu laughed lightly.

“I believe they’re much louder than any form I have. It’s flamboyant! I love it!” Tengen smiled.

Rengoku secretly listened in on the two, as they compared on how awesome the flame pillar was, as they walked to the house. 

“Sorry if there loud the place in a bit of a mess, but I’ll fix you all up and then we can eat.” Y/n apologized as they all entered the house, each of them collapsing on the front room door not able to hold their selves up anymore.

“Kids! Take your shoes off hurry! Put Aniko in her bed for now with some toys, get me water and some wash clothes while I get the medicine.” Y/n stated as the kids did as asked taking the baby and running off as carefully as possible to get what their caregiver had asked.

 She quickly did the same taking her shoes off as she set the basket down and ran to get the medical supplies. Quickly the kids and Y/n returned with the needed supplies. 

“We’ll get you cleaned up here let you rest a bit, you all must be so exhausted- then we’ll get you separate rooms if you want, or would you all like to be in the same room?” Y/n asked. 

“Ah, you’re so sweet.” Mitsuri blushed. 

“Y/n is one of the main skilled people I know that’s not in the demon slayer corps- “ Giyuu  winced as Y/n cleaned up his face, soon wiping his hands as well.

“you’ll need a set of small stitches…” Y/n spoke as she wrapped his hand in cloth bandages, “That should hold it, for now, don’t straggle your breathing.” 

Next, she moved on to Tengen the kids helping with the occasional new water and clean cloth bandages as she moved as quick as possible trying to patch everyone up decently until she could spend more time on one person. When she got to Rengoku last she lightly rubbed the blood off his face, he closed an eye as she wiped over the half of his face then his hand, and asked is he had any major injuries, Rengoku only replied with a nothing I can’t handle as and smiled., but when she smiled at him he felt his eyes soften, her smile was sincere and worry-full, yet she had never met the man in her life. She got up and cleaned her own hands and then helped each one of them up. They slipped there shoes off as they already felt better.

“I’ll cook some food, you all can wait in the dining room and I’ll bring it out.” She smiled. 

Helping each of them up the small steps if needed, yet Tanjriro, Zenitsu along with an out of the box Nezuko, and forced Inosuke stopped, asking if you needed help. Worried about them, you only told them if they wanted they could watch the kids, saying Matsuda knew how to make bracelets and Aiko would teach them how to paint if they wanted to know. Meanwhile, Riku would most likely be asleep already. They agreed to help you and went to watch the two kids, while you cooked. 

She was rushing to put some type of substance back in the pillars bodies. She quickly made rice, she rushed outside to the backyard and picked some vegetables. Rengoku came out and helped.

“You don’t need to, go with your friends and rest.” Y/n spoke taking the basket with her hands away from him.

“I don’t have to do a lot of things, but you’ve saved my friends and I from serious injuries, maybe even death.” Rengoku spoke, “Plus, it would be rude not to help.”

Y/n looked down at the basket. “Okay..then could you help by watching your white haired friend to me. He seems aggravated. I don’t want him popping his stitches open.” 

“Gladly.” 

[serosinkyslut]

“I need you”

Sero x fem!Black reader

Warnings: mentions of drugs, smut, p r a i s e, slight bruising, some overstim w/ nipple play, panic attack, angst, choking, and squirting

Summary: You’re about to tell Sero a thing or two after getting a call from him at 3am. But his response leads to a different discussion…

Word count: about 2.7k

Author’s note: Quick question/// how did we all come to an agreement that Sero smokes?? Is this canon? Could it be canon?

Authors note pt. 2: I didn’t think the angst would be so long, so just skip to the {***}asterisks if you just wanna read the smut

The Sero you know has always been calm, cool, and collected. When you receive a phone call at 3am, you assume it’s one of his usual antics; him asking you if you’ve heard Megan’s new song, explaining why Denki is such a dumbass, or his take on the Netflix show you told him to watch. The bright light of your phone stings your eyes before you hear the ringtone. Taki Taki by Selena Gomez blasts from your nightstand- a song Sero knew annoyed the crap out of you, and hence forced you to set it as his ringtone after a bet you lost months ago. Hearing it so many times now, after all, Sero was your best friend and boyfriend, the tune wasn’t as bad. As you reach over to answer it, silencing the dumb song, you’re semi-pissed off and ready to tell Sero that whatever he has to say can definitely wait til morning. You were exhausted and had just seen Sero only a few hours ago. However, when you answer the phone, the soft but audible sniffle instantly shuts you up.

There’s a shaky breath before “y/n...I....” he pauses, trying to regain control of his broken voice. Your heart squeezes terribly as he tried to force himself to talk. What had happened? You were just laughing together not too long ago.

“Sero? What’s wrong? Are you okay??”

You hear him struggling to tell you what’s going on with him, but only a strangled cry comes out as he bursts into tears. You’ve never heard Sero this broken, this distraught. Hell, you’ve hardly ever seen him have a semi bad day. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. It hurts you to know that your bestfriend is in so much pain.

“I need you,” he manages to get out through gasps.

“I’m on my way right now,” you tell him in a smooth, stable voice. You’re scared that it’ll only freak him out even more if he knew how panicked you were. In a total frenzy, you throw on a big shirt and grab your car keys on the way out, not even thinking about your bonnet still on your head, your raggedy house slippers on your feet, or even the fact that you're dashing out your apartment at 3am with no pants on. You can only think about Sero, and how bad he must be feeling to call you in absolute tears. You don’t bother with a seatbelt, and hardly look out for other cars as you zoom to his apartment. A trip that should have taken 20 minutes didn’t even take 10 as you park in the spot Sero was convinced was just for you. A space directly in front of his apartment that was always vacant, and also so happened to be right next to his car. Your feet fly you to the second floor and you fumble searching for the red cheetah printed key to his apartment that he copied for you. He thought it was hilarious how tacky it was, and even customized his own key so that you guys could match. That was Sero for you- always thinking of you. Always going the extra mile to see you happy. And now that precious boy was suffering, crying alone in his apartment. “Wait...is he even in his apartment?” You slam your palm to your forehead. You didn’t even bother asking where he was before rushing over. Fuck. Sending a silent prayer, you flip out the red key and open the door.

As soon as you do, a gush of smoke exits, flooding your nostrils with the smell of weed. You can hardly see into the space, trying to make it safely to Sero’s room where you figure he must be, smoking in his little alcove by the window with the air diffuser on. Instead, you hear his sniffling from the living room, almost blocked out by the tv which, ironically, is in fact playing the Netflix show that you recommended to him last week. Dragging your eyes from the flashing tv, you focus your attention to the shaking lump of covers on the sofa. Taking deep breaths, you walk towards him.

“Sero?” you whisper quietly and he freezes. He doesn’t respond, but you know he heard you. “Sero... I’m here”. You take a few more wary steps before you place your hand on the blanket he’s hiding under and peel it always carefully, revealing the top of his head. You bend down to get a look at his face, but when you try, he only lowers his head even more. You smooth his hair down with one hand, and place the other ever so gently under his chin, trying to get him to look at you. “Look at me, Sero. Please? Tell me what’s wrong”. Sero, being one to never deny you anything you ask for, tilts his head up gingerly. His eyes are totally bloodshot, and you can’t tell if it’s from the weed, the crying, or both. But either way, it breaks you I’m so many different ways. Sero opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. You slip into the thick covers with him and press him to your chest, wrapping your arms around his head. Almost instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into you while gripping you tightly like his life depends on it. You keep smoothing down his hair, whispering a mix of “everything’s okay. I’m here. It’s okay. You’re safe,” while peckering kisses on his head. It takes a few minutes to calm down from his.. panic attack? Jesus, you want to know what’s wrong so you can fix it. Once he’s stable, he finally looks up at you with those big beautiful eyes and kisses your chin. Then your jaw, neck, collar bones, and finally stopping at the gap between your breasts. He sighs in to you, face between your breasts, and reluctantly releases his grip around your waist. All of a sudden, everything spills out at once. He rambles on about how 5 civilians had died right in front of him two months ago. 3 of them being children. How he could’ve saved them if he had been a better hero. How he was having nightmares about them, and about you. It could have been you that day. Would he be able to save you then? Would you resent him for being so weak? He’d been getting high almost every night to ease his anxiety, but he finally cracked when the Netflix show you gave him had a child die in the last scene of the 2nd season. That was the trigger for his first panic attack. When he called you, he was right in the middle of it, and couldn’t think of someone better to contact. And his gut was right. Just you holding him in your arms made the bad thoughts go away. You were better than the weed, better than all the numerous distractions he had to make him think about everything but the accident. He felt safe. He felt loved. He never knew that was what he needed most. Now that he was calm in your arms, he wanted to reciprocate all the love you always showered him.

*** [here’s the smut you whores]

He began pressing sloppy, wet kisses against the base of your neck, sucking so hard on the skin that you knew for a fact it would leave a bruise or two. “I love you y/n. You’re so good to me,” he breathes before licking long stripes along your collarbone. “I love you so much”. Dammit this man was high as hell. You felt some guilt bubbling in the pit of your stomach at Sero’s advances. Should you be enjoying this as much as you are right now? Your best friend just had a panic attack. Yet, the feeling was quickly replaced by a pleasurable heat as he firmly grabbed your ass with one hand and pressed his boner against your cunt, pushing almost painfully hard through your thin T-shirt. It wasn’t until that moment you remembered all you had on was this shirt and underwear.

With his other hand, he removes your bonnet and threads his hands in your curls, getting tangled easily while he lightly scraped your scalp, right at the crown. Right where you liked it. You let out a soft moan that was met with a slight throb of Sero’s cock. “You’re fucking perfect, Princesa. Your hair and skin feel so perfect. So perfect for Papi”. He bites down on your collar bone, receiving a sharp yelp in surprise and a tug at his hair. “ohhh hermosa you feel so good,” he groans, his Spanish beginning to flow as you both get even more turned on. “All I need is you, y/n,” he says. Carefully, he takes his hand out of your kinks and places one on your hip, rubbing small circles with his nails. He stops for a moment in this position. He murmurs, almost to himself, “You’re all I need, mi cielito. After all the bullshit I put you through, I don’t deserve you,” he starts to choke a bit on his words at the end, and you sense the tears coming. You love Sero, and in no way did he not deserve you. He needed to know that. Pulling his lips away from you, which are now swollen, you stare into his eyes and tell him “I love you, and only you Sero. I don’t want or need anyone else”. A quick tear escapes from his eye and it slides right into the crook of your arm. You wipe it away with the palm of your hand, keeping it pressed on his cheek. “I mean it, Sero”. A slow, lopsided smile presents itself on his face. “That was pretty cheesy y/n. I never pegged you for the sentimental type”. You mirror his smile, your heart soars at the inkling of normalcy between you two. “Oh fuck off,” you say playfully pushing his head away. “We both know that I’m a huge romantic. Besides,” dropping your voice and gently pressing your lips against his ear, “no one else could get me this wet in a few minutes. Sero giggled at you, yes giggled, and shook his head.

“Horny ass. Let me have this damn opportunity to be lovey-dovey” Sero’s fake agitation is so forced you couldn’t help but outrightly laugh. After the moment passes though, you suddenly become serious. “Are you sure about this Sero?”

“I’m always sure when it comes to you hermosa”

This time, he places a slow, deep kiss to your mouth, swiping a hot tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission to enter. As usual, you give it to him without a second thought.

Sex with Sero is always passionate, but today felt extremely intense. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t turn you on. Plus, there was so much smoke in the apartment that you had to be getting a second hand high right now.

Sitting up and dragging you with him, covers sliding to the floor, he positions you two at the edge of the couch, your back facing a blaring tv that neither of you bother to turn off as you straddle him. One swift tug has your shirt off, revealing your pebbled nipples and a lacey red underwear you don’t even remember putting on.

A low whistle leaves Sero’s lips. “You couldn’t possibly have mistaken my phone call for a booty call, could you? ‘Cause this is sexy as fuck mami”

Wasting no more time, he wraps his mouth around one nipple, flicking the dexterous muscle back and forth. The other nipple pinched between his fingers while he pulls and squeezes harshly, the pain meshing deliciously with the pleasure. With his free hand, he wraps his lanky fingers around the back of your neck, encircling almost completely around your throat. Yanking your head back with just the right amount of force, you can’t help the loud, high pitched moan that leaves you. Your hips spasm along his thigh, leaving a visible line of slit on his pants. Sero hums against your skin, tightening his grip on you, “you like that, don’t you? Grinding your cunt on my thigh while my hands choke your pretty little neck”

You were going to respond, but his teeth bite down on your breast, the other one met by a thumb flicking across the bud quickly. Your hips buck against his leg, the pressure causing a flood of incoherent sounds. You’re a mess of moans, white pulsing at the edges of your vision, heat rocking through your entire body. And just when you think the pain starts to be too much, he presses his knee right against your clit, making you see stars. “Sero!!” Your screams and gasps are so noisy that you know the neighbors are sure of who’s making you feel this good. His mouth rips from your nipple with a pop, but instantly latches onto your lips.

He uses both of his hands to palm your ass, grinding your hips faster and harder, your clit exploding with pleasure. Eyes squeezed shut, you slam your arms down on him, clawing at his shoulders. The feeling was so fast, so intense, too good, you were being sent over the edge. Your words were incomprehensible, you could hardly even speak to tell him you were close, so so close.

“Fuck! Sero I-”

“Shit y/n you look so fucking hot,” he grunts against your lips, “Please cum, cum for papi. You’re so pretty on top of me y/n. Cum all over my pants with that pretty pussy of yours baby”. One hand smacks down across your tits, making you jump so hard you almost fall off his leg. He never stops gripping and kneading at them, rougher than ever, before twisting your nipples again. You claw at his shoulders, practically sobbing from the pleasure, screaming “yes yes yes! So good! So...!”

Another slap makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, your orgasm building in your core. He squishes your tits together, and plunges both nipples in his mouth, biting and sucking fervently. At the same time he bounces his knee, you feel the burning knot coming undone. “Papi, I’m gonna cum, I’m coming, I’m-”

You couldn’t say anymore, as a gush of hot liquid squirted all over his leg. Sero hums with your tits still in his mouth, the tiny vibrations sending bolts of electricity down your spine. You gradually came back down from your high (and not the weed high), Sero still rocking you slowly against his pant leg. When you come back to reality, your head falls forward, instantly tired and tense from that world-changing orgasm. After opening your eyes, you spot a wet circle right at the center of Sero’s legs. “Sero, did you just cum?”

He glances down, and his eyes widened when he also sees the sticky wetness seeping through. He looks back up at you, blessing you with his wide, toothy smile. “I guess I did, huh?”

Bitch is high as hell. You chuckle slightly before you hear a nearly inaudible squelch under you. Now you look between your own legs, and freeze at what you see.

Shit

“Did I… did I just?”

“Yeah,” Sero snorted, “You squirted on my thigh. I think it got on the couch too.”

Oh my god. You press your palms to your eyes immediately, totally embarrassed by what you did. Not to mention the fact that you were basically naked, while Sero was still fully clothed. How did this even happen? You’ve never squirted before. Did you have some sort of torture kink? Your tits hurt like hell right now. Turning your head away, you say “that’s so embarrassing”

“Embarrassing? Look at me” Sero takes you by the wrists and removes your hands from your face, but your eyes still look away. “Look at me baby,” he persists, squeezing your cheeks between his thumb and index with his lanky fingers, forcing your eyes on his. His blissed out eyes are still glossed over with an incredible lustful stare. “That was fucking hot, y/n. Can you do it again? Please?”

[notcanoncompliant]

hi! i'm the anon from the earlier starker request (78). maybe seventeen and eighteen? or just eighteen and eighteen, if you're more comfortable with it. i think ill pop up more often, so ill use an emoji. does 🌻 work? - 🌻 (possibly)

Hope you're still around Anon! Here's your request (from like four months ago...😅)

78. "Don't fucking touch what is not yours."

*****************************************************

Peachy

***************

Peter can take care of himself just fine. He's been doing it his entire grade school career, doubly so since he presented as an omega; he definitely doesn't need some knothead alpha to fight his battles for him.

But, oh man, Tony Stark is hot when he's angry.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Beck?"

And the alpha over Peter by his locker is an idiot, because he seems to interpret Tony’s nearly prowling approach as non-threatening.

Peter shivers involuntarily when Tony gets close; the alpha smells like petrichor and ozone and the tang of saltwater, a literal force of nature.

Beck snorts and doesn't put any distance between himself and Peter. “I don’t see your name on him, Stark. Get your own.”

And Tony must be near a rut, because Peter’s hardly spoken to the other teen outside of class, and Tony’s kind of an ass, but he wouldn’t just slam one of his teammates into the lockers with teeth-rattling force over some random omega...but against the lockers is where Beck ends up, the collar of his shirt twisted in Tony’s fists.

“He’s mine,” Tony snarls. “You get your own.”

The (somewhat redundant) warning growl that follows rumbles deep in the alpha’s chest, a sound that calls to something in Peter…

...which just serves to piss off the omega.

‘Mine’? Who the hell does he think he is?

Peter scowls, pushes off from where he’d been pinned. “Yeah...I’m just gonna go.”

He’s at the end of the hall, almost to the front doors, when he realizes Tony’s following him. There’s no sign of Beck, but it’s not that surprising; there aren’t a lot of guys who would push a fight with Tony.

(It’s not attractive, it’s not--it’s macho alpha crap, and it is never appealing, not even when Peter’s alone in bed...at night...with his inflatable knot. *cough* Never.)

“Let me drive you home.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “No thank you.”

The alpha just looks at him with exasperation that is definitely not warranted, and it makes Peter’s hackles rise.

“I’m fine, Tony. I don’t need a bodyguard.”

“You do when you smell like you’re about to roll over.”

Oh. Oh WOW.

Peter’s not sure what his face is doing, but when he looks at Tony, the alpha blanches and takes a step back.

“Shit, I’m sorry, that was--”

“That was some designationist bullshit, and I’d appreciate it if you’d leave me alone.”

With a last glare, Peter turns and stalks off towards the doors, pushes his way outside--

--to be faced with a torrential downpour.

The doors open and shut behind him, and Tony comes to stand beside him, his still apologetic (and a tiny bit smug) thunderstorm scent blending almost perfectly with the rain.

“...You sure you don’t want a ride? Not like that--ow, Jesus--”

***

Getting into Tony’s car was a mistake.

It smells amazing inside, a blend of clean leather and Tony and alpha. Peter's still irritated, but he loosens up, melting into the seat with a sigh he doesn’t mean to let out.

Tony smirks over at him. “Cozy?”

“...No,” Peter says, facing resolutely forward.

Tony doesn’t say anything else, just starts the car, but Peter can feel the alpha’s amusement.

He huffs quietly and lowers himself slightly in the seat. None of this should feel nice, none of it should feel so comforting or safe or--

“You wanna tell me where I’m going?”

Peter opens his eyes (hadn’t even realized he’d closed them), and sits up a little straighter, clears his throat, face heating. “Right. Address. You need that.”

He rattles it off and goes back to trying to ignore...well,Tony, but also the obvious warmth in his own face. His own...everywhere, actually. He’s warm. Overly warm.

Oh no. Maybe Tony wasn’t so far off, as crudely as he’d put it.

They’re about halfway to his house when Peter finally gives up, turns to ask Tony to shut off the heat (maybe it’ll make the scent less intense, everything smells like Tony but stronger; is it getting stronger?) but the words catch in his throat.

Tony’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel, his jaw tight, eyes a little brighter, wild.

“Are you...are you okay?” It’s another thing Peter wants to deny, isn’t sure why he asks, why he...fuck, why he wants to hear Tony say it. To hear him say anything. Why he wants to hear the bass notes of arousal that match the increase in Tony’s scent.

“Peachy,” Tony answers tightly, not looking over.

The shortness doesn’t matter; by the time they pull into the (thankfully empty) driveway, Peter's struggling with conflicting impulses to get as far from the alpha as possible or to just straddle him right there in the driver’s seat.

“Thank you, for, you know. The ride.”

Tony’s scent flares, the leather of the wheel creaking under his hands. “No problem.”

Getting out of the car is the next logical step, but Peter is glued to his seat (not literally, thank god; he can’t feel any slick yet, but he can tell it’s a near thing). The only way he’s getting out is--

No, nope. He’s not going to invite Tony inside, he’s not going to do that.

Swallowing, Peter rubs his palms down his thighs, uses the texture of the denim to ground himself. “Well, um. Yeah. Thanks. I’m just...bye.” He un-clicks his seatbelt and climbs out, trying to ignore the tug low in his belly insisting he get back into the cocoon of good-smell.

It’s better this way, obviously; he doesn’t actually know Tony, doesn’t actually like him. Just because the alpha’s hot...and an impressive rubgy player...and on Peter's level in all the advanced classes...doesn't mean he wants to spend a heat with him (a heat Peter wasn't even supposed to be having right now, what the heck is going on with his suppressants).

He's at the front door, fumbling with his keys, when he hears the car shut off. A door opens and closes with a bang, followed closely by the slap of sneakers pavement.

The infuriatingly intoxicating scent of thunderstorms thickens when the porch steps creak with Tony’s approach, and Peter already knows what's going to happen. Feels it with a terrifyingly right sense of inevitability.

Tony stops behind him, not touching, but close enough Peter can feel his warmth.

Peter doesn’t turn around. “I don’t...Did you need something?” he asks inanely, a little breathless.

“I...need you to tell me to leave.”

It’s not what Peter expected. If he’s being entirely honest, he’d been half hoping Tony would just shove him up against the door (or try, anyway); that he’d give Peter a reason to fight back, to shove him away, to deny the instincts pinging like electricity under his skin.

Peter swallows. “You can go.”

“Do you want me to?”

Fuck.

The key slides into the lock, finally, the click of the latch somehow audible even through the sound of the rain pattering on the overhang above them.

“No.”

**

The blend of their scents, of Tony’s stormy, feral arousal and the sweetness of Peter’s slick, is delicious--filthy and thick and everywhere, and Peter knows he’s going to have the scent in his sheets, deep in his mattress, in his skin, for days, maybe weeks.

But, the memories...those are going to be seared in his brain for the rest of his life, probably.

He rocks his hips forward, groaning. “You feel so good--so tight, god--”

Tony just stares up at him, whines around the soaked boxer briefs crammed in his mouth. He looks gorgeous like this, flushed, eyes hooded and dark, gripping Peter’s headboard as tightly as he had the steering wheel, earlier.

When they’d first stepped inside, Peter had been surprised. Tony had kept his hands to himself, followed Peter up to his bedroom without comment, without pushing. The only thing that gave away Tony’s understanding of the situation was his weirdly polite request that Peter give him a quick tour of the kitchen, so he’d know where to go to get Peter food and water, later.

It didn’t jibe with the alpha posturing at school, and not with the smug boldness that is Tony. Did not compute.

Tony had obviously been aroused, his very much alpha-sized cock straining obscenely in his jeans, but he’d just stood there when the got to Peter’s room, shifting restlessly foot to foot, just...waiting, until Peter had finally asked if Tony really wanted this, why he wasn’t doing anything.

The characteristic smirk had made an appearance, weighed down just a little by nerves, and then Tony had asked Peter to tell him what to do.

Peter had definitely been amenable to that request. And to every one that led them to this moment, to Tony on his back on Peter’s bed, flushed olive skin against the navy blue of Peter’s sheets.

It’s beautiful. It’s breathtaking and amazing and so many other things. He can’t believe he gets to do this, that Tony’s letting him inside, in more ways than one. It’s satisfying and weirdly humbling, and Peter’s going to have to process everything later, but right now...right now, it feels good.

When one of Tony’s hands leaves the headboard, Peter feels a rush of anticipation. “Ah ah, no,” he says, smacks it away before it can touch the erection Peter’s been deliberately neglecting.

Tony makes a helpless apologetic sound through his mouthful, snapping up to grab the headboard again, and Peter shivers, fucks into the alpha’s tight heat a little harder, a little faster, a reward and a punishment.

He won’t be able to maintain this much longer; it’s early enough in his heat that he’s not yet reduced to a single-minded mess of near-delirious want, but Peter thinks he has just enough time to say what he’s been thinking about since he’d been given permission to handle Tony this way.

Curling forward, he leans in to nip and suck at Tony’s chest and collarbones, Tony’s small huffing breaths and pleading sounds in response sending showers of sparks low in Peter’s spine, through his own hot, needy insides.

“You know better than that,” Peter admonishes, voice a little unsteady. “Or, I thought you did.” He sits back, trails his hands down Tony’s chest, his stomach. “You seemed pretty clear on it with Beck.”

Peter shivers, smirking when Tony glares, growling; he can feel the vibrations where they’re connected, and he suddenly very much gets the appeal of angry sex. But he can’t get distracted.

“Shh, Alpha,” he soothes, a little mocking. Tony doesn’t seem to mind, going by the precum that drips anew. “I just thought you understood the rules.”

Peter pulls out carefully, heedless of Tony’s noise of complaint, shushes him as he crawls forward until he’s straddling Tony’s hips.

Tony’s hazy, questioning look vanishes with an almost pained groan when Peter wraps a hand around the base of his cock (tries; his fingers barely touch, fuck) and squeezes, right where the alpha’s knot is going to expand, and stands him up.

“Don’t touch...what doesn’t belong to you,” Peter manages breathlessly, “And this is mine.”

The last word ends on more of a moan than anything syllabic as Peter sinks down--full, full, so fucking full, fuck--and he has to take a second to adjust to the girth, to his...fuck, his first time with an alpha.

Everything’s starting to get hazy and euphoric, now, heralding the point of Peter’s heat where he’ll cease to notice almost anything besides whatever’s pumping inside him, filling him up. But he’s still clear enough to feel a burst of appreciative affection for the way Tony’s trembling with the effort to not move, to not just buck up into Peter’s heat.

Peter reaches out and pulls the underwear from Tony’s mouth, tosses them somewhere off the side of the bed. Leaning down, he claims Tony’s mouth in a deep, sloppy kiss, moaning at the sensation from just a minor change in angle.

When he pulls back, the taste of Tony and himself flooding his senses, he grins.

“Now let go of that headboard and show me who you belong to.”

************************

Everything Tag List: @silkystark, @hoeforthegays, @the-amazing-spidertwink, @starkeroverlord, @smidnite, @cagestark

Again, if anyone wants to be on the Everything Tag list, or wants to be taken off, please let me know!

[justice4harwin]

All Too Well- part 2

Summary: Johnny Lawrence was a troubled kid, then a troubled teen, and although he hid this from most, there were a few people he allowed to truly know them.

Series of one-shots telling his story with one of those people. 

Part 1

Part 2: Johnny and Noelia’s first meeting.

Late August, 1982

Noe held the toy gun with a firm grip and closed an eye as she pointed at her target. Around her, the loud voices of games and people having a good time seemed to fade away as she forced herself to focus on the game at hand. This was only a little bit better than just awkwardly wandering around on her own.

Firing in quick succession, she almost didn’t miss and smiled to herself, lowering the toy as the screen switched onto the next level. She noticed a girl standing nearby.

“Oh, sorry. Were you waiting to…?” she left the rest of the sentence hanging in the air and pointed at the screen.

The girl, who had been staring, shook her head, her pretty blond curls bouncing about.

“No! It’s fine, really. You were here first. I was just watching while I waited for my friends.” she took a tentative step forward, so they wouldn’t have to talk so loudly. “You’re really good.”

“Thanks.”She stepped aside and motioned for the girl to stand in her place. “You wanna keep going? I was getting bored anyway.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, shortening the distance further.

Noe smiled, handing her the gun. Her dad had talked her into going to that place to meet some people before classes started in september. This seemed like the perfect chance.

“I’m Ali.” the blond smiled in return, turning her eyes to the screen and shooting. She missed almost half of the targets.

“Noelia.”

“You new here?”

Noe nodded, but Ali probably couldn’t see it.

“Yeah. My family moved here from Winsconsin a few weeks ago.”

“Cool!” she gave her a swift look. “Must be a big change.”

“Yeah, but I think so far I like it.”

Ali kept on missing despite Noe’s gentle advice, and soon the game was over.

“Sorry I ruined it.” she said with a grimace, putting the gun down and moving aside to allow two boys no older than twelve to take her place.

Noe waved a hand.

“It’s just a game.”

“They’re right there! It’s not like real hunting, you know? They’re just a few feet away.”

The other girl shrugged, placing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Maybe it’s the bright colors? I find them pretty distracting.”

Ali gave the screen a pitiful look.

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Ali!” 

Both looked in the direction of the voice, finding a tall brunette waving next to a redhead. Ali turned to Noe.

“Hey, wanna join me and my friends? We were about to have a snack.”

“Are you sure they won’t mind?” It sounded good. Really good. Almost two weeks had passed since the move, and each day, Noe found herself lonelier than the last. Her parents had quickly settled into their new routines at their respectives jobs, and her little brother spent most of the day playing with the other kids from the complex. Noe had had so much free time in her hands that she had unpacked most of their stuff all on her own and even managed to fix a shelf in the kitchen without help.

“Yeah, c’mon! It’ll be fun!”

“Ok, but I’m getting some fries first.”

Ali motioned to her friends and guided Noe to the food stand, where she also ordered a slurpee. 

“So, which school are you going to?”

“West Valley. Sophomore year.”

Ali’s eyes widened.

“Me too! That’s so cool! Maybe we’ll share some classes.”

Great relief washed over Noe as she heard this. This girl seemed nice, plus It’d be great to know at least one person on her first day.

Hearing some commotion coming from the table Ali’s friends had sat at, both girls turned to look. The blonde groaned.

“Great.” her voice dripped sarcasm.

Noe looked on with curiosity as the table filled with a bunch of loud boys. 

“Friends of yours?”

“Friends of my friends, unfortunately.” the blue eyed girl answered.

One of the boys leaned closer to Ali’s friend and said something, to which the girl pointed in their direction and his head snapped up, zeroing in on them.

Caught, Noe hurried to look away and thanked the employee as he handed her the drink. Next to her, Ali’s mood had visibly damped. Of course, Noe wanted to ask, but she wasn’t too sure if it was the right moment for that. They had just met after all. Who knew the history there.

“Oh, great, now he’s coming over. Quick, pretend you’re with me.”

“I am with you.” Noe smiled, subtly raising her eyes to see the guy from before approaching. 

He was quite tall and seemed well built, his blond hair fell over his forehead, but they didn’t hide his blue eyes. Noe felt the straw falling back into the cup. He had to be pretty terrible, because otherwise she wouldn’t understand why Ali seemed to hate him so. He shouldn’t have a right to look so good.

He looked at her as he approached and crocked his head to the side, smirking. She looked away, embarrassed for getting caught.

Luckily, he walked past them, but she could feel his eyes on her, almost burning her. It was something she thought happened in her mom’s novels only.

Her new friend suddenly looked at her, seeming like she was trying to make a choice.

Noe was about to ask her when something collided with her back, sending her forward. Ali caught her by the arms, and Noe gasped as the icy contents of the cup spilled over her shirt, its cold contents against her hot skin causing a small shock.

“Seriously, Johnny?!”

“What?! It was an accident!” 

Ali looked as convinced of that as of the existence of Santa.

“Right. Just like you.”

Noe put the cup on the counter and looked down.

“Crap.” she muttered.

Ali was pushed back as another figure imposed itself into her line of vision.

“Hey, you okay there?” she looked up to find the blond guy again. His expression shone with excitement, which she found suspicious. “It really was an accident.”

“Yeah, don’t worry.” she waved him away, looking down again at her shirt. 

“Here, let me buy you another.” he offered quickly.

The blonde girl jumped back in and pushed the guy, Johnny, away with a hip thrust.

“You do that, jerk.”

“It was an accident!” he defended again, raising both hands.

She ignored him.

“C’mon. I’ll help you clean up.”

Noe let Ali take her hand and guide her to the bathroom without a word.

Looking back, she caught Johnny grinning from ear to ear at their retreating forms. He winked and she rolled her eyes half-heartedly.

Boys.

Johnny PoV

"Play nice." He had muttered to his boys under his breath and through clenched teeth as Ali Mills and her cute, new friend approached the group.

He stood up from his place at the edge of the table, his eyes never straying from the girl.

She was pretty. Petite, olive skin, rosy cheeks and eyes so dark they were almost black, except for those bright green flecks. Her curls hung loose down to her shoulders, which were exposed.

Maybe he could take a break from his attempts at wooing Ali, it wasn't really working anyways.

Ali stopped in front of them, but only addressed her friends.

"Girls, this is Noelia. Noelia, meet Barbara and Susan."

They both smiled and greeted the new girl, which she returned warmly as her eyes drifted to him and his friends.

Johnny took his chance, striding towards her. 

"Hey, I'm Johnny." He shook her hand, gazing into her eyes. He felt a rush, but quickly shook it off. "These are Jimmy, Bobby, Dutch and Tommy."

"Hi everyone." Her voice was soft, but easily heard, even with the commotion around them.  

"Look," he pulled her out of Ali's grip fairly easily and to the place he had saved for her next to Bobby. "I got your order for you, and another drink."

She smiled at him, like he was some sort of angel or something.

"That's very kind but you didn't have to."she reached for her pocket. "Please let me repay you for the drink."

"No, no I can't." He raised his hands, taking a step back. Jimmy and Dutch were laughing silently behind Noelia while Ali glared at them, arms crossed and looking like she had sucked on a lemon. She was the only one of the female group who seemed to see through their bullshit. "I spilled the drink on you-"

"It was an accident."she interrupted.

"And ruined your clothes-"

"On accident."

"It's just a drink, Noelia." He liked saying her name.

She stared at him for a few seconds, and Johnny felt like a small kid when they got praise. That unadulterated rush of pride and self-worth that boosted anyone's ego ran through him after so long as she finally nodded.

"Okay. Thanks." She sat at the table, and he was quick to follow up and take the space to her left. 

Ali sat on the opposite side next to Barb and gave him a warning glance.

Don't mess her up or else...

He chuckled internally and turned to listen as Noelia answered Susan's question.

She opened up slowly but steadily, and seemed to be hitting it off quite well.

"So, your parents moved here for work?" It was Bobby who asked, playing around with his straw. "What do they do?"

She swallowed her fry before replying:

"Mom's a dentist and dad's a surgical nurse."

Johnny snickered as Dutch, Tommy and Jimmy laughed. The girls and Bobby rolled their eyes.

"Your dad's a nurse?!" Dutch asked, almost in tears.

It was funny, but not that funny. Then again, Dutch could laugh at almost anything when he was as high as he was at the moment.

Noelia crossed her arms over her chest, her face going from angelic to malevolent as she glared at him.

"Yeah. Got a problem?"

Dutch ceased his laughter long enough to give her an obvious look as he gestured with his hands, like that would help get his point across.

"C'mon. That's a woman's job."

"So is being a hairdresser, which explains how you're so good at bleaching your hair." Ali spoke up without so much as a glance, finding her drink more interesting.

Johnny and the others outright laughed at this, including the girls. Noelia looked down as her shoulders shook, and then sent Ali a grateful look.

Johnny watched her for a moment and then at Dutch, his demeanor turning cold as he shook his head once in warning.

You're gonna ruin my chances.

Susan got up.

“I’m bored. I’ll go find a game.”

The other two got up, and after a discreet nod from the leader, so did the cobras. Ali turned back to Noe.

“Wanna come?”

The new girl checked her wrist watch and grimaced.

“I don’t think so. My dad’s picking me up soon.”

The blond’s face fell slightly.

“Oh, well, okay.” she perked up immediately after. “We’re throwing a party at the beach on saturday, to celebrate the end of the summer. You should come.”

“I think I can do that. Or I’ll see you at school.”

Ali nodded, and with quick words, they were all gone.

The girl turned and jumped, placing a hand to her chest. Johnny noticed her nails were painted black and slightly chipped.

“Sorry, I thought everyone left.”

He placed his elbow on the table and leaned against it.

“Thought I’d keep you company.” he smiled charmingly. It was the smile he used to suck up to the other parents in Encino.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go with your friends? I won’t wait long or anything.”

Discreetly, he scooted closer to her. He mustn’t have done such a good job, since she narrowed her eyes at him.

“I’m perfect here, hot stuff.”

She snorted softly, and the blush that rose to her cheeks wasn’t as deep as he was used to getting from other girls.

“Do you come here often?” she asked him suddenly, turning all her attention to him. He was slightly caught off guard. After a moment, Johny started talking, and she listened. 

She asked. He answered.

She asked. He answered. She listened.

She turned on the bench to face him, one leg on each side of the metal seat as he spoke of some of his favourite spots around the place.

He found it strange, but she truly seemed to be paying attention to what he said. She didn’t seem bored as he spoke, nodding along and making comments or side questions here and there, her rapt eyes on him, like being worthy of such magnitude of attention made sense. Like it was no effort to her. 

He stared at her here and there. From the posture, to the way her long, flowy skirt framed her legs, to the hands which now laid on the bench right in front of her. Goosebumps seemed to be raising in her arms, so he did something odd, and instead of being cheeky and telling her to scoot over to him, he took off his red jacket and handed it to her.

Her hair flew with the breeze too, some of it getting to her face. She’d catch locks with those slender fingers and push them away to no avail, but it didn’t seem to annoy her in the least.

Eventually, the disconcert settled, then faded and he recovered his balls, finally asking about her too. It seemed only fair, and part of him was genuinely curious.

“So, you’ve been living here for long?”

“No, we just moved in some weeks ago.”

“And wha-”

“Noe!” a honk followed the yell, and she looked to her left as he looked to his right and caught a glimpse of a man waving from the inside of a car.

“That’s my dad. I gotta go.” she stood up and took off the jacket, handing it back to him. Up on her feet, the multicolored lights seemed to caress her, creating a kaleidoscopic halo around her silhouette. She grabbed her empty cup, cardboard plate and looked at him like they were old friends already. “Do you go to West Valley too?”

He nodded and she smiled brightly, like the news was delightful to her.

“That’s great! I’ll see you around, Johnny.”

Was that the first time she said his name out loud? It sounded nice.

“Yeah. See you.”

She departed then, walking with a sprint, stopping once to throw her trash in a can, then a second time before entering the car to turn and wave at him, and got in. He blinked, a group of nerds got in the way, and when they moved the car was long gone.

Some snickers bought him back to earth.

“What happened there, Johnny?” Dutch and Jimmy approached him, evil glints in their eyes. “Was it love at first sight? Are you gonna burst into song now?”

Johnny rolled his eyes and swiftly swept Dutch’s leg. He almost fell on his ass.

“Nah, man.” he shrugged. “She’s hot. I may ask her out once or twice, you know; get some experience before I ask Ali again.”

Jimmy nodded, like it made as much sense as their theory about the pyramids.

“She’s a Reseda girl, after all.”

“Mm.” He stood up from the bench and stretched before putting on his jacket again.

As he followed his friends back in, cracking jokes and laughing, he felt a peculiar scent.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but it reminded him of a bakery early in the morning, when everything is just out of the oven. It was nice.

His group got together again and he quickly jumped in, making sure to be the center of attention.

[patch410]

Buddie First Kiss

(Nighttime in Buck's apartment. Opening shot, from a short distance, a set of keys on the bar side of the island in Buck's kitchen. The door opens, Buck enters the apartment pulling his keys from the deadbolt.  Eddie stands behind him in the doorway just outside, staring down. Buck walks over to the island, sets his keys on the counter, phone on the charger, turns around. Eddie is still standing in the doorway, now looking at Buck) BUCK: Aren't you coming in? (Eddie walks into the room, now staring at his own keys on the counter) BUCK: How 'bout a beer? (Eddie shakes his head. As Buck walks over and shuts the front door-) BUCK: Come on, I know Christopher's staying at his friend's, we're not working tomorrow, so you don't have to rush off.  Have a beer and maybe a little Mighty Fight Fed? EDDIE: No, I'm good (Eddie puts his hand on his keys. Buck walks up behind Eddie, puts his hand on top of Eddie's on the counter) BUCK: But you're not good. You said almost nothing on the ride over, not a word on the way up. Something's eating at you, what's the problem? (In a quick move, Eddie grabs Buck by the front of his shirt, pushes him up against the door, Buck slides down a little. Buck's face is pure shock) EDDIE: (angry but not loud) YOU. You're the problem. Why do you do it? I was fine, getting the ready for the ladder and setting the lines up. But you, you have to walk twenty feet on a narrow ledge three stories up, without a line, and nothing set up on the ground. One slip and you're gone forever. BUCK: (a little angry) Our side was cleared, the hall was gonna be blocked, and with that many people it looked like you had a 2-man job, and you had all the safety lines. EDDIE: (Louder, in Buck's face) GONNA be blocked! LOOKED like a 2-man job! I'm not a kid, if I need help, I can ask. But Full Buck fears no risk and I’m forced to watch. Don't you have any idea how much I care about you? (Eddie is breathing heavily. He looks Buck in the eyes and kisses him hard. Buck's face reverts to shock, but he quickly responds to Eddie, Buck puts an arm around Eddie's back, his other hand on Eddie's neck.  They continue to kiss, several times, lasting almost 10 seconds. Eddie is still holding Buck against the door, when he stops and looks down. Both men are breathing heavily now) BUCK: Eddie . . . Eddie, I feel the same way . . . I want you . . . I didn't think . . . (Eddie lets go and pulls back, Buck's arms reaching out for him as he goes) EDDIE: Didn't think, what a surprise! BUCK: Come on, Eddie, don’t. (Eddie turns around to the counter, leans with his hands on the corners, he takes a couple of deep breaths. As he stands upright-) EDDIE: I can't do this. It's too much. (Eddie reaches for his keys, starts to pull them off the counter. Buck is there in a flash, slaps the keys out of Eddie's hand back to the counter, grabs Eddie under the arms, pushes him against the wall next to the door and presses body against Eddie's. Eddie doesn't resist, just stares over Buck's shoulder) BUCK: No, no. You do not get to prove we're in love and then walk out. EDDIE: Let me go, Buck. BUCK: No. I'm not gonna just let go. EDDIE: How long do you think you can hold me here? BUCK: I'll stand here all night til we get this straightened out. EDDIE: Let me go, Buck. BUCK: Not until you promise not to leave before you and I are settled. EDDIE: And if there's nothing to settle? BUCK: Nothing to settle . . . That's a load of crap and you know it. PROMISE! EDDIE: Okay, okay, I promise. (Buck eases away from Eddie, but keeps his hands resting on Eddie's shoulders) BUCK: Eddie, even before tonight we knew we cared a lot about each other. I look at you and I wanna be with you. We have so much together, more now, how can you even think of walking away? (Eddie looking fierce) EDDIE: It'll be tough, but I can if I have to. BUCK: (in a rush) But, you don't have to. I'm sorry I scared you. I can do better. (**Buck leans his lips into Eddie's neck, starts kissing his neck as he speaks. Eddie's eyes close, feeling the pleasure, he leans his head back, breathing a little harder**) BUCK: **(slower, passionately) I will do better, Eddie, I mean it. I'll do whatever it takes, whatever you want. I'll do anything for you. I'd carry you up a mountain, walk through flames for you** (At the last line, Eddie's head snaps down. he pushes Buck hard enough he falls back into the counter.  Buck breathing hard, half-standing, leaning against the counter Eddie takes deliberate steps towards him) EDDIE: (really angry) That's exactly what I don't want. You're no good to me dead, or to Christopher.  One too many risks and I might have to watch you die. Christopher and I would have to stand with Maddie and your friends as we plant you six feet under. I guess I thought you'd stay alive for Chris, if not for me. You'd fight for him. (Buck still breathing hard, distraught and in shock at Eddie’s temper, clutching the counter, almost in tears) BUCK: (pleading) Please, Eddie EDDIE: (catching his breath, sighs) Okay, Okay, calm down (Eddie helps seat Buck in a bar stool. He walks over to a cabinet, pulls out a whiskey bottle and two shot glasses, sets them on the counter. He looks at Buck for a second. He fills the shot glasses) EDDIE: Here. (Eddie hands Buck his shot. Buck hunched over, stares at it like he doesn't recognize it, then downs it fast. Eddie does his slower. Buck breathes more controlled, then holds his shot glass out to Eddie, for another) EDDIE: (putting the bottle away) No, no more whiskey; I know where more shots leads us at this point. BUCK: Such a terrible a thing? EDDIE: Not settling a thing. BUCK: (looking down, after a second) Okay, then. While you're up, grab me a beer from the fridge. (Eddie shakes his head, gets two beers from the fridge, opens them, hands one to Buck. Buck takes a swig) BUCK: Yes, I would fight for Christopher. But it's because you're part of him. When I look at him, I see the bravest and happiest parts of you staring back at me. How could I not love your little boy? Of course, he's important to me, but Christopher's not the one I fell in love with. EDDIE: Fell in love. I wanted to think it was possible, but I thought you only wanted to be best buds. BUCK: I thought that, too. You were married, had a kid. What was I supposed to think? EDDIE: I've seen you with Taylor, but your thing with Abby made me think you couldn't be into me. BUCK: With Abby? Why Abby? You weren't even around when we were together. EDDIE: The absent girlfriend who held your heart, you didn't even try to move on for ages. It was like she was the only one who could make you feel like that. It's LA, lots of chances out there, and you didn't see them. Didn't see me. (Eddie takes a sip of his beer) BUCK: Yeah, it took therapy for me to sort out my feelings. All my feelings, including some "latent feelings towards men," Dr. Copeland said. Guess what relationship in my life triggered that discussion? EDDIE: Oh. BUCK: Yeah. But you were hung up on me and Abby. EDDIE: Okay, yes, I was. The night of the Pacific Western accident finally convinced me. BUCK: A train wreck. How fitting. EDDIE: Yeah. She's back in your life for an instant and you're already ignoring a triage decision, ignoring your own safety, just to please her. Watching you hanging on that unstable train car that could crash down at any second, yes, I was scared, but I was angry, too. I'd just changed my will to make you Chris's guardian. I knew it was right for him. I was trying to figure out the best way to tell you. But there I am, seeing you with a power saw, dangling 75 feet above the ground, risking your life, and I think, “He's made himself expendable . . . again . . . so maybe he can save Abby's fiancé. Am I an idiot, or what?” BUCK: You have no idea how important you were to me that night. I guess I should've let you know.  Okay, maybe I felt I owed Abby something, and saving Sam would be a weird repayment of the debt. EDDIE: (mutters, low voice) Unprofessional. (Buck ignores this) BUCK: During the rescue task, you know your mind is on nothing else, it can't be. Afterwards, when they were taking Sam to the ambulance, with Abby next to him, but looking back at me, it was like acid in the back of my throat and being forced to swallow it slowly, and it hurt. A lot. But the first thing I saw after the ambulance door closed was you. You were worried about me, how I felt. I still hurt badly, but you made me feel like I had good things in my life, that there was love. You were the balance that let me go on. EDDIE: You asked why I waited to tell you about the change in my will. The Abby thing was a big part.  But you've done this other times, too. I'm not handling it well and I'm not sure I can. (Buck looks down, slowing turning the beer bottle) BUCK: Like when? EDDIE: The rope rescue; Jumping from that other apartment building. BUCK: Only option left. You tied the rope. You made the jump, twice. EDDIE: The sanitizer factory. BUCK: Got lost and found the last worker. You'd have done the same. EDDIE: He said he told you to save yourself when he got trapped. BUCK: And leave him to burn to death alone? You'd have done the same. EDDIE: Climbing that crane with a sniper out there. At least I didn't have to watch that one in motion. BUCK: You were in the hospital with a GSW. I was raw, I couldn't stand to see someone else hurt. EDDIE: But that's what it always is, Evan. Everyone else's life is always more important than yours. You do think you're expendable. I can face danger, but your attitude is too painful for me to live with. (After a hesitation, Eddie reaches for his keys) BUCK: You do it, too. EDDIE: What? BUCK: You heard me. You do it, too. EDDIE: I don't think I'm expendable. (Buck looks up at Eddie, suddenly miffed) BUCK: No, you're the know-it-all hero who has to do it his way, risks be damned. EDDIE: (shakes his head) I'm not. BUCK: When that well collapsed in on you, I went insane. I started wildly clawing and digging at the hole shouting your name over and over. Bobby had to drag me away and hold me lying on the ground until I calmed down. But you know what I saw when I was madly digging that was driving me nuts? A cut safety line. You cut the line. Deliberately. You want scared? I was at the other end when the line went slack. EDDIE: Okay, I never knew how I scared you. But down in that hole, I couldn't leave. I had cut through the old well to get to him. I had just touched him; the water was rising. I couldn't be pulled out then, I had to cut the line. BUCK: How long, Eddie? How long would it have taken to get out, check your gear, and get you back down with an intact line. You would've been up in another 5 seconds. Two, maybe three minutes tops, for everything else including getting back down. More time than it took Chim to suit up, gear up, and get down that hole. Except you would've had your line and Chim wouldn't have had to go down. We got Chim and the kid out okay, it was only the need for a second trip that damn near cost you your life. You had to do it your way. EDDIE: (a little testy) I was down there by myself and had to make decisions with spotty communications. I did what I thought was best. We all have to make decisions like that sometimes. BUCK: Yes, we do. You decided to volunteer for the rescue. You decided to break safety protocol. You decided to cut the line and endanger your life. You wanna dump me for taking too many risks. You do it, too. EDDIE: One time, Buck, not like you. One time under pressure, in unusual circumstances. BUCK:  Oh, no, no, no you don't. It wasn't the only time. The gas explosions in Doheny Park, the day the system went down; another time you scared the crap out of me. You climbed up a drainpipe to the roof of a burning two story house. You complain about me walking on a ledge today when you walked 50 feet across the spine of a pitched roof with no line to make a rope entry, yes, a rope rescue, into a burning room the kid wasn't even in anymore. I thought I was gonna lose it watching you walk that roof.  I DID lose it when the last gas explosion went off upstairs and we didn't know where you were. I was ready to grab an extinguisher, climb that broken ladder on the truck and make the jump into the house to help you. EDDIE: Not a good example, Buck. You admit you were prepared to kill or cripple yourself in a half-cocked rescue attempt. Again, to help me. You were expendable cuz maybe you might help me,   BUCK: But I didn't climb the ladder, Bobby wouldn't have let me anyway. And I didn't walk that roof in full gear, either, when a gust of wind could've killed you. There’ve been other times, too. But I don't complain no matter how frightened I am. It's not an issue in how much I care about you. That's the difference; you do it, too, and all I do is have your back. EDDIE: So that's part of having your back? Say nothing about being scared to death, just live with it? BUCK: I'm just saying if you think I believe I'm expendable and it frightens you, well, sometimes when your heroics put you in danger, I admit I'm terrified. You aren't as careful as you could be. EDDIE: Then can't we just be coworkers, before it's gets to be too much, and stop scaring each other. (Eddie picks up his keys from the bar) BUCK: (head down again) You promised. EDDIE: Buck . . . (Buck looks up with a serious and determined look) BUCK: You promised not to leave my place tonight until we were settled. I'm no relationship expert, but I know that "settled" doesn't look like this. (Eddie looks down) EDDIE: I'm not sure what more I can say right now to get this settled. (Buck, still looking at Eddie smacks his hand on the bar just hard enough to get Eddie's head to snap up) BUCK: Not 'This', Eddie, 'US'. I want 'US' settled. I want us; you and me together. I know you wanted that, too. After the lawsuit you asked if I thought about how my actions affected us. Well, I'm asking you that now. (Eddie tosses his keys back on the bar, Buck looks a little relieved) EDDIE: It's more than just my actions, Buck. We have to live with danger in our job, I accept that. But when you took that chance today, just to help me, not save someone, I was almost too scared to be able to function. I felt like if you fell, I should just jump myself, like if you died it was my fault. BUCK: But I didn't fall, I made it with no problem. And you functioned at your usual peak efficiency.  We were able to get everyone down safely, in time. Together we did that. Look, you admit we deal with danger all the time. But now you want to walk away from something good, maybe even great, something we both want, out of fear of being afraid? You're the bravest man I know, I don’t get it, letting being afraid interfere with living. (Eddie steps away from the bar and faces away from Buck) EDDIE: Okay, I admit I get afraid. I fear for my family. I worry about Chris all the time, about my abuela getting older. My parents, my sisters, Tia Pepa. I've already lost my wife. I don’t think I can handle much more. (Buck leans back in the stool and pushes his legs out) BUCK: And what? You're gonna cut me out? You think you can surgically remove me from the list? (Sarcastic Laugh) You're a good medic, Eddie, but not that good. I don't believe you can cut me out, or that you really want to. And I'm gonna fight it. I haven't come this far to fold. Like I said, don't expect me to just let go. (Eddie turns slowly to face Buck-) EDDIE: Right. It's never easy with you, is it. BUCK: I guess not. I'm kinda a mess. But you knew that already. (Buck and Eddie stare at each other for a long moment. Eddie sets his phone on the counter by to his keys) EDDIE: If I'm staying, I'm gonna need a shower. (Eddie turns toward the stairs and begins to go up. Cut to Buck staring at the beer in his hand on the bar) BUCK: Yeah, of course, go ahead. You know where everything is. (Cut to Eddie near the top of the stairs, he stops and turns to look down at Buck) EDDIE: Aren't you coming? (Eddie barely raises his eyebrows, then turns to climb the last steps) (Cut to Buck at the bar, stunned, looking up the stairs, mouth slightly open. He shakes his head quickly once, looks around. He grabs the two beers from the counter and heads up the stairs, taking them two at a time)

(Morning in Buck's apartment. Buck -sleeveless t-shirt, sweat shorts- at the coffee maker next to the range pouring coffee into two mugs. Knock at the door) BUCK: Ye-ah. (clearly in a good mood) (FROM OUTSIDE): Eats Beats! BUCK: (finishing pouring the coffee) Be right there. (Buck opens the door to the delivery guy) BUCK: Good morning. DELIVERY GUY: Mornin'. BUCK: So, found the place and got in okay? DELIVERY GUY: No prob. Big brunch special from La Tiendita with chicken tortilla soup? Extra guac? BUCK: Yup, that's us. Wow, you got here fast. Not much traffic? DELIVERY GUY: Yeah, be careful, the soup's still real hot . . . muy caliente. BUCK: Thanks, here you go. Keep the change. (Buck hands the guy a twenty and takes the bag and the box) DELIVERY GUY: Thank You, sir. Enjoy your meal and have a great day. BUCK: You, too! (Buck closes the door with his foot, walks over to the bar and sets the food down on the counter, he grabs plates from the cabinet, opens the packages, starts dealing with the food. Cut to Eddie at the top of the stairs -bare foot, gym shorts, pulling on a tank top, hair's a mess- stretches his arms, starts down the stairs. Buck hears and looks up) BUCK: (big smile) Hey there. Coffee? EDDIE: Hey. Yeah. What time is it? (a little groggy, no smile) (**Buck picks up the two mugs from the counter, walks over to Eddie on the other side of the bar, hands Eddie his coffee**) BUCK: **There's a clock on the nightstand on your side of the bed. EDDIE: My side . . . It’s not there now. Must've fallen off. BUCK: Must've. It's a little past 10:30. Your phone's right there. Hope you're hungry.** (Buck takes a sip from his cup. Eddie gulps some, sets it down and picks up his phone) (**Buck transfers plates and bowls to the table, places already set**) EDDIE: **Yeah, I could eat. (while checking his phone) BUCK: Good, we should get it while it's hot.** (Buck slides his hand up the inside of Eddie's arm and gently holds Eddie's bicep. Eddie looks at the hand and looks up at Buck, almost confused. Slightly grinning, Buck ducks his head a little to look up into Eddie's eyes. He moves in for a kiss. Eddie closes his eyes and seems to reluctantly cooperate. it's a gentle kiss lasting a couple of seconds. Buck rubs Eddies arm, lets it go and turns toward the table) BUCK: Let’s eat! (Cut to table, men sitting next to each other, eating and drinking coffee. Buck cheerful, Eddie a little dour) EDDIE: You got my soup. BUCK: Is it any good? Do you like it? EDDIE: Yeah, it's fine. Coffee just how I like it, too. BUCK: Excellent. I am trying here. EDDIE: I see. (The men eat for a few seconds. As Buck is picking up his coffee) BUCK: So, when do to have to pick up Christopher? EDDIE: Tasha said around five. BUCK: They're hitting the zoo today? EDDIE: Yeah. BUCK: Christopher always enjoys that. Wasn't it the water park yesterday? EDDIE: Uh-huh. BUCK: And the movies last night? Full weekend. EDDIE: Hmm. BUCK: We could take the kids to the beach next weekend, if you want me to go along. EDDIE: Okay. BUCK: Anything else you need to do today? EDDIE: No. (Buck turns to look at Eddie) BUCK: Man, once you get started you just don't shut up, do you. (Eddie smiles for the first time but keeps on eating. Buck turns back to his food. After a second) BUCK: (softer voice) Are we gonna talk? About last night? At all? EDDIE: We seem to be doing better when we're not talking. Last night, anyway. BUCK; Well, if we do have some of the day free, I'm all in for some more "not talking." EDDIE: I bet. BUCK: Come on, Eddie. Are you still half asleep or are you really in a mood? (Eddie holds his silverware to the side of his plate and turns to look at Buck) EDDIE: Alright, Buck, what do you want me to say? I'm still pissed at you for the risk you took on the job yesterday. You know how I feel about you and yet you continue to frighten me. I'm trying to deal with that. (Eddie starts eating again) BUCK: (a little hurt) We need to trust each other more, trust the other one's instincts on the job. EDDIE: (shrugs as he picks up his coffee) It's that simple. BUCK: I didn't say it was simple. And we're still not talking about what went on upstairs last night. You're still pissed after that, it changed nothing for you? EDDIE: You know I don't think that. BUCK: Well, at least that's something. Cuz I thought it was great; I don't believe it wasn't good for you. EDDIE: It was great. For me, too. Don't doubt that. (Eddie picks up their plates and carries them to the sink as Buck fumes over his coffee. Eddie walks over to Buck and puts his hand on Buck's shoulder) EDDIE: Look, Tiger, you've got to give me time to learn to deal with this. It's taken Cap years to. I've always had a problem with how you don't look before you leap. It's just come closer to home now.  What you can trust is how I feel about you. After all the drama of yesterday and last night, looks like that's not gonna change. (Eddie runs his hand through Buck's hair.  Buck smiles as he puts an arm around Eddie's waist) BUCK: Okay . . . I guess.  So . . . Tiger . . . you said that last night. Is it gonna become a thing? EDDIE: (Grinning) Maybe. Probably. I mean you did kinda pounce, not that I'm complaining. Do you hate it? BUCK: Just the opposite. Something spontaneous from you, something wild for me, how could I not like it? EDDIE: it's still Buck at the station house. We really can't tell anyone, if we want to keep working together. BUCK: I know. Departmental policy. We won't be the first to hide it. Doesn't mean I have to like it. What about Christopher? Do we tell him? And when? And how? EDDIE: Well, obviously we're gonna have to tell him, probably sooner rather than later. Not sure, but I think he'll be glad. He really loves you. But we're not gonna decide when or how to tell him right now. BUCK: I love him, too. But WE will decide when WE tell him, right? It won't be only Dad's decision. EDDIE: Yes, WE will. You're practically a dad to him already. Listen, Tiger, we have to be cleaned up and out and about soon enough. I’m also in for some more "not talking", but we don't gotta lotta time to waste. (Buck stands up turns away from Eddie. Eddie's hand stays on Buck’s shoulder) BUCK: And after today? There's not much wasted time in your schedule, is there. How's it gonna work? EDDIE: We'll find the time. We'll make the time. Our schedules might help. We're off duty some days Christopher's in school and he sleeps like a rock most nights. And I want you to spend more time with him. (Eddie pulls Buck around to face him) I'm sorry, Buck, I'm just beginning to realize this isn't going to be easy for you. Between work and sneaking around and Christopher, you'll be seeing a lot of me and most of it won't be "us" time. BUCK: Seeing a lot of you isn't a horrible thought. More time with you and Christopher is something I want, too. We already spend a lot of time together, so it won't be that big of a change. And, hey, let's be clear; I don't need easy. I don't want easy. I want you, whatever it takes. EDDIE: You've got me, and I'll do whatever it takes. But our time is gonna be precious. We shouldn't waste it now. Come on, Tiger, let's go find that clock.

[calumbringbackthewatermelonshirt]

Hiraeth (C.H.)

Hiraeth: a homesickness for a home you can never return to, a home which maybe never was. 

a/n: welcome back. please enjoy this entirely too long calum hood boarding school au. I did my best, but if there are any discrepancies PLEASE send me an ask and tell me!!! I included the women of 5sos for more character diversity and I low-key kind of love it! this is about the first 10 pages and theres dozens more to come that are already written! come hell or high-water, I am committing to finishing this wip, please feel free to send me thoughts and questions!!!

“Crap.” Sierra muttered under her breath when she noticed the sign on the old RA’s door. Even though she wouldn’t have considered them friends, Sierra was at least comfortable enough with the old RA to go to her when Sierra needed to get into her room. She really had to start keeping track of her keys better.

Stalking back down the hallway, she went to go find Kaykay, knowing her roommate would definitely have her keys.

….

“A new RA?” Calum sounded skeptical over dinner the next day. “It’s kind of late in the school year for that.”

“What do you care, Hood?” Michael rested his weight on his elbows on the table and smirked at Hood over his sandwich. “Afraid of a little competition?”

“What competition?” Luke looked up from his latest novel, some clunky old thing he was reading in french.

“Competition for the best RA, duh.” Kaykay kicked her feet up onto the table, only to have Hood shove them back onto the ground. Hood never let her have her feet on the table when they were eating but that didn't stop her from putting them up there. One day, one day she would be able to keep them up there for the entirety of the lunch. It was like her white whale. “Maybe this one will let us play poker on her floor.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not off to a great start. I got locked out earlier and had to find Kaykay to let me into our room.” Sierra was still a little bothered by that. Even though rationally she knew she should cut the new RA some slack, her blisters were making it kinda hard to forget her trek.

“Come on now, Si. A little walking never killed anybody.” Michael gave Sierra a grin that stretched wide across his face, but if there was anyone who could resist it, it was Sierra.

“You’re not the one who had to walk all the way across campus.” Sierra was grumbling into her food, but it was still audible to Kaykay, who smothered a snicker.

“Give her a chance, Sierra. The new RA was probably still moving in. Be nice.” Crystal was palming orange slices into Luke’s hands as he read, who was robotically eating them. Kaykay, on the other hand, was blowing her straw wrapper at Luke’s face, cheering when she hit him. Luke didn’t seem to register either one of them.

“Coach says we’re getting someone new on the soccer team. Maybe it’s also the new RA?” Kaykay picked at her food absentmindedly, as if contemplating the odds of it being the same person. Kaykay was pretty good friends with everyone on the team, but she was on JV and the coach said the new girl would be on varsity.

“Maybe. Everyone finish up. Curfew’s in 15 minutes, and you all need to be back in the dorms by then.” Hood didn’t seem like he put much thought into the conversation that had gone down at the table, more concerned with corralling his bunch into following the rules. It almost never happened, but Hood still tried.

“It’s not like it’ll matter much. Sierra and I don’t have anyone there to tell us we're late.” Kaykay was still playing the cat and mouse game with Hood, her doc martens gracing the table with their presence once more. Hood, to his credit, pushed them off not even a minute later.

Crystal stood up, dragging Luke with her. “Yeah, but we do.”

….

“Do you think she’ll be nice? Or like super strict? God, I hope she’s not super strict. Maybe we’ll get super lucky and get someone like Hood. Michael and Luke are so lucky.” Sierra was kind of nervous. She always got like this when she was gearing up to meet new people. Yet, her rambling subsided when she heard voices echoing down the mahogany hallways.

“No, you cannot set their rooms on fire. I don't care that they replaced your lip gloss with jelly, arson is not the answer. Please just shave their eyebrows like normal students. And go late at night so you don’t get caught. If you get caught, I’ll have to play dumb and that’s kinda hard for the valedictorian.” Kaykay and Sierra watched as two sophomores ran giggling down the hallway, armed with freshly acquired shaving cream and devious new plans.

Sierra and Kaykay locked eyes then spoke in unison. “Definitely cool.”

They took the short walk down to your doorway, where you were leaning and watching the two girls run off. You wore casual clothes, white school t-shirt, blue plaid men’s boxers, and mix-matched socks, one short with an avocado on it and one tall with mini corgis. You were chugging iced coffee through straw like your life depended on it. Sierra took it all in, deciding she liked you by the time her eyes made it up to your metal straw.

You took one look at Sierra and Kaykay, almost studying them. “You heard nothing.”

Sierra was quick to reply, already wanting your approval. “Not a peep. I’m Sierra, and this is Kaykay. We’re on your floor.”

“Ah. Cool beans.” You introduced yourself, looking at Kaykay a second longer than Sierra. “You’re on the soccer team, right?”

“Yeah.” Unlike Sierra, Kaykay clammed up around people she didn’t know, and she was still quiet around the ones she did. “Are you the new girl the coach told us about?”

“I am indeed. I start practicing with you guys tomorrow.” You glanced at a notification that popped up on your phone, scrunching up your eyes a bit to read it. “It’s kinda late. Shouldn’t you two youngsters be asleep? You’ll need it if you wanna grow up big and strong.”

“Yeah, yes, of course. We promise we won't set anyone’s room on fire either.” After a withering glance from you, Sierra grinned. “Not that we would ever do that. Where would someone even get an idea like that?”

You smirked right back at them. “You know where I am if you ever need anything. But be warned, I’m not a morning person.”

With that you turned and shut your door, leaving Sierra and Kaykay standing in the hallway right outside your door.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Sierra’s smile was as wide as her face allowed. She had a devious look on her face, one that only a person who had illegally downloaded thousands of shows on her laptop could have.

“I never am. I’m pretty sure no one ever is.” Kaykay was skeptical, knowing that whatever was going on in that genius brain of Sierra’s could not be good. Sierra had a nose for sticking her nose in other people’s business.

“Her, plus Hood, equals literally the most perfect couple in the world. Maybe to ever exist.” Oh, she could already see them together, holding hands, you making Hood laugh for once in his life. Him cheering you on at your soccer games. You cheering him on at his if the gang could force him to have fun. Oh, this was perfect. Beyond perfect.

“Are you sure? We probably shouldn’t meddle in other people’s love lives. It might be kinda rude.��� Kaykay scrunched up her nose, allowing Sierra to drag her by the wrist back to their room. Kaykay wasn’t a particularly nosy person.She was a big fan of giving herself rules to not get attached, such as ‘hey, don't insert yourself into other people’s love lives.’

“Oh, hush, I’m literally the best cupid. I even have the wings for it.” Sierra was jogging a little now, so many plans already rushing through her head. Sierra had always considered herself a bit of genius, but she had outdone herself this time.

…

“Hello, my darlings!” Sierra was buzzing with excitement. This was a big moment for her. Her scheme was about to be set into motion, and god, was she excited. Hood was stuck in a floor meeting for Lincoln house, which meant you were, too. She took the timing of the meeting as a sign from the gods that this was meant to be. “Listen up please. I have news.”

Sierra remained standing as the others gathered round and took their seats. She waited until everyone sat down and was too busy with their food to interrupt her.

“So. Kaykay and I have met the new RA, and let me tell you, she is amazing.”  Sierra grinned leaning forward on the table. Her words all came out a teensy bit rushed, as they were prone to do when she was excited.

“Weren’t you just hating on that chick yesterday? What changed your mind?” Michael was halfway through his eggs, and three-quarters of the way awake. Sierra could be loud when she got excited, and he wasn’t looking to be all the way awake yet.

“Hush, your leader is speaking. Anywho, she is not a chick, she is a queen. She is also perfect for one pseudo dad floor advisor we know.” Sierra was swatting at Kaykay, who was barely awake, trying to get her to pay attention to her all-knowing speech. Kaykay to her credit, hummed in agreement, albeit with her eyes closed.

“Wait, perfect as in like dating?” Luke looked almost disgusted at the idea of two people in a relationship. Crystal almost let Luke catch her smiling, but hid it at the last second. Crystal guessed he was still in the ‘girls have cooties’ phase, and it amused her to no end.

“She’s pretty cool.” Kaykay's words were soft with sleep, but there was enough of a lull in the conversation from everyone to hear her. “She’s on the soccer team with me.”

“As the most responsible person here, I cannot condone this and will not partake in any scheme you may or may not dream up. However, I also know I can’t stop you. Please just don’t do anything too stupid.” Crystal was sipping a glass of tea, trying not to look bemused by the idea of Hood in a relationship. Even though he was only a year younger than her, she reminisced on her own young love. It would be good for him, Crystal thought to herself. Plus, she had seen you around the library quite a bit. The two of you had chatted, and Crystal already liked you. Maybe she wouldn't have an active role in the forging of the relationship, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t support it.

“I dunno. I’d have to meet her before I could make a judgment on whether she’s good enough for Hood.” Even though Micahel didn’t care to admit it, Hood was the dad to their little group of misfits. Michael didn't want him to get hurt, especially if it would be their fault.

Sierra was grinning her ‘I’m a genius and this is genius’ grin again. “Oh, trust me. She is.”  

…

You were lying on a couch in the commons when their gaggle found you, chewing forbidden gum and texting on a forbidden phone. You had seen them approaching, but still didn’t care enough to put your phone away. You hadn’t taken either of the girls you met last night as a snitch, and from the looks of the girl in the against dress code denim jacket, you were probably right to assume the same about all of them.

“Sup kiddies.” You didn’t even glance up at them. If they weren’t screaming, it wasn’t an emergency. And if it wasn’t an emergency, it wasn’t worth looking up from your intense game of 8-ball for.

“We require assistance.” Sierra was acting as the pseudo leader of the group, speaking up before the others got the chance.

“In what form? We talking ‘hide a body’ or ‘I got locked out’  kind of assistance?” This time you looked up, taking in seven sets of eyes upon you, including Crystal and a different senior you didn’t know. Immediately, you were suspicious. Why would two seniors be needing your help?

“More of the second one, but also not.” You sighed and stood up, stretching as you did so. Nothing like a second-day, midafternoon crisis to get your blood flowing.

“What’s up?” You introduced yourself to the rest of the bunch and gave a quick nod to Crystal. “You’ve got me for 20 minutes and then I have a soccer practice. Actually, you do too, Kaykay.”

“This won’t take long. You have extra library privileges since you're a RA, right?” Sierra took off as soon as you stood up, the rest of the group following, clearly already knowing whatever plan they had formed. You stayed silent, waiting for them to explain more before you promised to be able to help. It was a bit confusing why they needed your help since Crystal actually worked in the library.

“Moving on. We wanna rent out a study room for a little bit this evening and...,” there was a pregnant pause as they all made eye contact between Sierra’s words, “study.”

“Yeah, I’m still not seeing how any of this involves me.” You were near the back next to Crystal, noting Sierra’s wild hairstyle and purple lip gloss, and Kaykay’s various piercings. The group didn’t exactly seem like the rule following type, which made you even more perplexed for their need for you. What could they be getting at?

“We need you to persuade the librarian to bump one of the study room spots open. They’re all filled.” Ah, finally, the truth came out. Luckily for them, you had made good with the librarian after spending most of your free time with her. Being the new kid, plus the pressure from your parents to keep your grades up, equaled having you living in the library. But none of them knew that except for Crystal.

The need for your help in the library made you pause for a second. Crystal worked in the library. She could definitely be of more help than you, and you were pretty sure everyone in the group knew it.

“They like you. They just don’t know how to ask to hangout with you in a normal way.” Crystal lowered her voice, almost whispering. She loved her little band of misfits, but their methods were...unique sometimes. Crystal still tried to support them as much as she could, even if she had to spoil their dramatics sometimes.

“Ah. I see.” You nodded thoughtfully. Crystal was a level headed person. But you could tell she definitely had a fun side, too. “Follow my lead?”

After a smirk and a quick nod, you tried to act thoughtful for a second.

“I dunno. Ms. Robins is a real rule follower. It’s gonna be a hard sell to get her to bend the rules our way. I might need some incentive to help me want to risk getting caught.”  And just like that you had a scheme of your own.

“What are you saying?” Michael, he said his name was, was eyeing you. It was pretty clear he didn’t trust you. It wasn’t your problem, but you figured you should try and look approachable as a new RA.  After all, it was kind of your job.

“Just that. Like, if someone was to offer to buy me a coffee as a thank you, I would be much more willing to take part in your little scheme.” Luke, the young one, opened his mouth as if to deny your calling what they were doing a scheme. “Don’t even deny it, boyo. This is most definitely a scheme.”

The younger kid huffed out a ‘fine,’ easily defeated.

“Back to the matter at hand. What’s in it for me?” You smirked back at them, adrenaline buzzing through your veins.

You could have sworn you heard Kaykay mutter ‘a boyfriend.’

Sierra covered, not that you were sure anything was actually said. “Ashton has a car. He can take you to town and stuff.”

You made eye contact with Ashton, the one who allegedly had a car. It was a bit tempting. Really tempting. There was a coffee shop on campus, and you had a keurig in your room, but it was nothing compared to the taste of mass-manufactured Dunkin Doughnuts coffee. Plus, off campus meant no uniform. That was a win enough.

“Well, then. I think we have ourselves a deal.”  You could already taste the coffee.

…

God, these kids were not slick. You were chatting with Ms. Robins about nothing in particular, not even broaching the subject of the study rooms. You knew Ms. Robins would bump one if you asked, but it was way more fun to do it the hard way. It was kind of funny to watch the little group you were with try to be slick and spy on the conversation without getting spotted, but not one of them was successful.

“Hey, is the room for RAs empty?” There was a study room set aside for RAs when they needed a break from the typical chaos on the floors of the dorms. You wouldn’t call it secret, per say, but you could agree that not well-known was a fitting term.

“Of course dear. It’s all yours if you want it. Do you need the key?”

You said no and thanked the kinder older lady. It was like you said, sometimes it was more fun to do it the hard way.

Everyone gathered around as you walked back to where Crystal and Ashton had been sitting and chatting.

“Bad news. Robins wouldn’t budge.”  You sighed and leaned on the table suppressing a smirk. You had to draw them in first to have a big reveal.

“Damn.” Ashton swore under his breath.

“But…” You raised your finger and cocked your head, finally allowing a grin to cross your face. “I know a secret room.”

“A what?” You finally had Kaykay’s attention, at least. Probably the secret part of your sentence.

“A secret room. Follow.” The floor advisor study room was at the very end of the hallway and had the overhead light above the door flickering, which only added to the “secret room” illusion.

Michael reached the door first, shaking the older knob, which did not open. It was locked, after all. “What now?”

They all looked at you expectantly, but you had come prepared.

“Step aside, peasants.” You whipped out your student I.D., sliding it into the gap between the door and the frame. With a quick swipe and twist of your wrist, the door opened with a click.

Sierra looked like she could hug you, Luke was already in the room, and Michael nodded his head approvingly. Ashton and Kaykay both gave you a high five, though.

“You gotta teach me how to do that!” Kaykay was practically beaming at you, as if you were the coolest person she knew.

“Uh, no. There’s no telling what you would do with that knowledge.” Crystal crossed her arms, but she winked at you as she crossed the threshold into the room.

“Alrighty. Kaykay and I have to get a move on lest we want to run laps til we puke. Enjoy don’t destroy kiddos.” You shut the door behind you and Kaykay, grinning at your little rhyme.

…

“So?” Sierra was excited, and for good reason. She was right. You were perfect, both in general and for Hood.

“Alright, Si, you got me. She’s pretty cool.” Michael was letting his features transform to a smile, ready to hear out the rest of Sierra’s plan. It was official. He was now an accomplice.

“I like her. She’s...fun.” Ashton was studying the corners of the room, finding it up to his posh standards. There was no way this was just a “secret hidden” room, but he didn’t particularly care to give up their new friend’s ruse. “But I’m with Crystal. I’m not going to be a willing participant.”

Sierra gave him her best puppy dog eyes. She had already planned up to step twelve of your and Hood’s relationship, and they would need Ashton’s help if they wanted to get past step five.

“Fine. I will not be an active participant.” They were relentless. Ashton knew that if he didn’t agree now, he’d end up caving later. Might as well agree now on his own terms.

“I think she’s cool. You don’t meet very many people who know how to pick locks any more. Hey, did you guys know that that specific type of lock is actually-” Luke was starting to spiral into obscure facts, as he did sometimes.

“Good, so we're all in agreement.” Sierra was ready. It was time to tell everyone the first few steps of operation “lovebirds.”

The name was a work in progress.

….

You had been adopted. Well, in a way you were. The group from the library had adopted you as one of their own, but you had already adopted all of them as your children. Minus Crystal and Ashton, of course. They had also adopted the younger kids, Crystal in a maternal way and Ashton in an uncle sort of way. But a fun uncle.

You had been eating with them at meals, walking to and from the various buildings with each other, even turning the lounge you had broken them into into your own little hangout. It was kind of nice to be a part of their own little family.

That’s exactly what it was. A family. There was just one piece missing. The “dad”.

“Hood”.

Pretty much all the younger kids did was talk about him, making it clear that he was basically their dad. And that he was a “super cool person if you didn’t count the stick up his ass,” according to Kaykay. You had yet to find out his name. Well, his real name. Apparently, he was the RA to your own brother dorm in Lincoln house and you had still yet to meet him. He was clearly a huge part of this group, though. That just kind of added to your puzzling view of him.

He most definitely was a mystery.

Whenever you brought him up to the group, all they did was look at each other and do a poor job at hiding their smiles. You ignored it for the most part, though. If you were destined to meet Hood, you would. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t.

Still you couldn’t help but wonder about him. Who he was, what he watched on Netflix, what he looked like.

You were in fact thinking about these very things in your morning elevator ride up to your first class of the day. You were still kind of out of it, only on your second cup of coffee and still in your zombie mode.

But, you were awake enough to hear a voice calling out to stop the elevator. And lucid enough to stick your hand in the doors a second before the closed.

Into the elevator rushed a guy about your age, taller and definitely cute. His dark hair was kind of shaggy, but that only added to his appeal for you.

“Thanks.” His voice was deep, but still soft. If you were any more awake, you’d ask for his number.

“No problem.” Instead of laying on the moves, you resigned yourself to taking another long slurp of your coffee, relaxing back against the railing of the elevator.

“You, um, you have something in your hair.” You looked up at him, cocking your eyebrow. Of course you had something in your hair. With the cutest guy you've met at this school thus far staring at you. Yet again, the stranger burst into your thoughts. “Can I get it for you?”

“That’d be great. I’d hate to walk around looking like an idiot all day.” You gave him your most witty, charming smile as you turned to face elevator guy.

“Got it.” You gave him a smile in lieu of a thanks, trying not to embarrass yourself any further. It was unlikely, but hey, worth a shot. It was then elevator guy chose to mutter something under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” With all the muttering that was happening lately you were starting to contemplate getting your hearing checked. It’d be a worthy investment. You were under the impression that private school kids would be a bit more poised and able to speak a touch more clear. You were wrong yet again.

“Um, your hair smells nice.” Elevator guy was now a bright shade of red. Like a cute tomato. You looked down at your shoes, rolling your lips into your mouth but smiling. Yeah, definitely still smiling.

“Thanks.” You were smirking at him now. You kinda liked having all the power in the elevator, considering elevator guy looked like he was ready to die at any second now. “I’d repay the compliment but I’ve yet to catch a whiff of your shampoo.”

“I’m Cal.” He stuck out his hand, as if suddenly remembering he went to private school. A handshake, like you two were CEOs of companies or something. It was endearing. You took another sip of your coffee, maintaining eye contact, before you reached your hand out and joined it with his.

You had just finished the last syllable of your name when the elevator pinged, announcing your arrival on your floor. You walked out of the elevator without another word, knowing that Cal’s eyes were following you the whole time.

[notaparty-trick]

All Those Senseless Scars - Chapter 3

By @notaparty-trick​ for @asyouleft​

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange​

Rating: T

Relationships: Tony Stark & Peter Parker, May Parker & Peter Parker, Michelle Jones & Ned Leeds & Peter Parker

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, May Parker, Pepper Potts, Michelle Jones, Ned Leeds

Summary: There is a rule to the way Peter lives now. He didn’t know it at first, but he learnt it.

It’s simple.

To earn what he needs to survive, he has to make sacrifices. 

--- 

Peter Parker's life is derailed when he's kidnapped and kept in a white-tiled room with nothing: no windows, no cameras, no food, no water, no phone, nobody else. Only his own thoughts keep him from losing his mind. If he asks for anything, he must take punishment. Tony Stark will stop at nothing to bring him home.

Archive Of Our Own link here

  “What would you like?”

Peter tried not to cry. “Blanket.” 

He’d warred back and forth all night, worrying himself to pieces over the possibility of a little extra warmth. Asking for it felt like admitting nobody would come to rescue him. But his fingers and toes were blue.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he found himself begging as he was thrust onto the floor on his stomach, jarring his misshapen hand. Though he knew it was utterly useless, the words spilled forth from a well of fear in his mind without filter. “I didn’t do anything, I just wanna go home. Please.”

At the first smack of the whip against his back, the breath was driven from his lungs.

Peter gasped in a shuddering breath, writhing at the unbearable burning sensation that immediately enveloped him. 

The second had him moaning in agony.

The third, fourth, fifth, had him pleading.

“Stop, please, don’t touch me,” he sobbed. “I - I don’t want the blanket.”

The sixth followed all the same.

Peter remembered the History class where he’d seen on the page of his textbook the image of ‘Whipped Peter’, the awful scarring across his back, like something had eaten into him.

He cried at the irony of that name.

His skin broke at the tenth lash. He screamed.

---

“God, oh, God, oh - shit!”

“May, don’t take his hand. He’ll crush it.”

“C’mon, baby boy. You’re strong. You got this.”

“Hurts,” Peter hiccups, bracing himself for the agony of the wound cleaning substance against his ruined back.

“I know, kid. Just a little while longer.”

A team of nurses has him on his side, hospital gown untied to reach the web of welts at his back, restraining him so his reflexive flinches don’t worsen his injuries. His heart pounds. 

“O- oh, crap,” he falters, pulling at the burns on his face as he screws it up instinctually. The shower he’d been assisted in taking just hours ago has been made superfluous by the sweat that’s breaking out all over him, brought on partly by the sheer torture of the procedure and partly by recollections of being held down and made to cry out in pain in his box.

“Deep breaths,” Tony reminds him softly from where he and May are crouched right beside him, inches away but forbidden from touching him until his wounds are cleaned and re-dressed. 

Peter obliges, pushing out a rasping breath. His vision is too blurry to make out Mister Stark’s expression. 

The burn arrives again, too quickly, too overwhelmingly, and he jerks against the hands keeping him in place. “No, sto’, too much!”

“We’re very nearly finished, Peter--”

Mister Stark rises from his seat in an instant. “He told you to stop.”

The pain recedes, leaving a residual sting, and a few shuffling footsteps sound behind Peter. He drags his face across the mattress of his bed, hoping to scrub away the tear tracks there but mostly just increasing the throbbing in his nose.

Then a calloused hand is in his hair, a softer one gracing a thumb over his forearm, and he sags in relief.

“You’re okay, Pete, you’re okay,” comes Tony’s low murmur, but he’s not.

“Th’nk you,” he breathes all the same.

“Nobody does anything without your consent, okay?” There again is the fierce yet uneven tone that Peter can’t decipher while the phantom lash of the whip still rings with harsh clarity in the back of his mind.

“’m good now. Jus’… get it over with.”

“You can keep taking a break.”

“No, I gotta do i’.”

Almost the moment the comforting hands leave him, the pain ramps up again, albeit only for a few seconds before a clean dressing is applied.

Peter knows what comes next.

A plastic tub held in a stand is wheeled to a stop beside the burned side of his face, lukewarm water tossing a washcloth back and forth inside. The nurse who had positioned it wrings out the cloth a little, steadies a gloved hand on an unharmed section of his head, and gingerly presses the wet cloth to the dressing just as Peter lets out a forcefully measured exhale.

He feels his flesh melting.

No. He shuts out the memory with gritted teeth.

This isn’t even the worst part. The worst part is after the dressing has been soaked enough that it peels off, when the cream is washed off and replaced. 

Peter had stupidly presumed that the moment he staggered through the door of the Compound would be the moment his pain would end.

This time, he can’t even move his face, although every nerve in his body begs him to turn away from the razor blades of the washcloth against his raw skin.

“Mff!” he cries instead, his empty hand fisting in the sheets.

“Good job,” he hears May coaxing over his outbursts. “You’re doing amazing, baby.”

The truth is far from her reassurances. He’s whimpering like an idiot. Pain is a thousand times harder to cope with now, and with a superhero side gig like his, it scares him to contemplate how much harder it might become now.

If he ever heals enough to get out of bed, that is.

As the new dressing is being prepared, a morbid part of him speaks. “I w’nna see my face.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Tony’s head fall forward into his hands. “Kiddo.”

“Show me,” he insists with all the shaky determination he can muster.

Both May and Mister Stark’s heads remained bowed as Tony taps a few times on his phone to enable the camera app and angles it towards Peter’s face.

Peter’s horrifying, ravaged, broken face.

He hadn’t even noticed that a patch of his hair had been singed off by the blowtorch and a further area shaved to a blunt stubble to bare the flayed brown edges of half-healed scalds. Like a disease that’s taken over his features, scraps of angry red, fragile pink and near-white mark the skin of his chin all the way up past his forehead. The dark pools of his eyes only point out more severely the bright, unnatural colours that ring them. Flecks of blood stand out at the palest areas.

Unable to articulate the gaping well of dismay that tears into him at the sight of himself, Peter lets out a sound between an exhale and a sob.

“You look just fine,” May rushes to tell him.

“Plus, you have super healing, remember? It’ll clear up real fast.”

At Mister Stark’s remark, Peter meets the eye of the man he gained the scars to see, simply staring at him. Tony’s face drops its false veneer of encouragement.

He doesn’t blame Mister Stark, not at all. He had no idea. But the more primal part of him, the part that boils over with rage, with shame, with despair, wants desperately to blame someone.

His disfigurement is the price of his freedom. It’s not fair. Not one other person in the room with him now has had to pay for the return of their own autonomy.

Except…?

The hot, stinging trail of a liquid down his cheek startles him out of his rumination. “S’mthin’ on my face.”

“Hey, he’s - yeah.” Mister Stark frowns even more deeply as a nurse dabs at Peter’s face with gauze. “It just comes out? That’s alright?”

“Wha'?”

“You’re bleeding a little, kid.”

“It’s nothing out of the ordinary,” the nurse assures them.

Peter feels nauseous.

When the medical team finally leaves him alone, he trades trembling exhaustion for the murky arms of sleep, passing out in a mess of IV lines and broken limbs and sweat.

May is the first to sit back in her chair with a vehement, “Shit.”

Tony realises he’s forgotten to breathe again in the way he seems to regularly forget basic human functions at the moment. Dragging in a pained breath, he shakes out his twitching hands and echoes, “Shit.”

Above their weary heads whine artificial squares of light. Tony blinks against their harshness, the white behind his eyelids recalling a light with the harshness of the sun against the kid’s cheekbone.

“When I became Peter’s guardian,” begins May quietly, “I knew he had a number of health conditions. I knew there would be hospital visits, examinations - I knew I’d have to see him suffer. But I never - I had no idea. Never this . This was never a thought, this… why do you think they did it?”

“It was because of me, I think,” grits Tony, eyes fixed on the floor.

“Tony - what?”

“When I - God.” The words are razor-edged, nauseating, painful to force out. “They brought him out to me, and then they - he looked like he knew what was coming. That’s when they burnt him.”

Curling into herself, May presses the back of her hand to her mouth. “Fuck.”

“He said - he told us he took punishment, right? And then they’d let him have things? Food, water, a blanket--”

“You,” May finishes for him, sombre.

Tony screws his hand into a fist and brings it down jarringly on his knee. “I was such an idiot. Just waltzed on in there - no plan - no backup - no thought of what they might do to the kid.”

May’s expression begins to change then, morphing into a look she’s seen directed at Peter countless times, the look reserved for flareups of self-sacrificial complexes. “Tony, you--”

“I couldn’t have known, sure. But I could’ve. That’s the thing.” 

These thoughts have plagued him from the moment he declared the kid missing. 

A pail of filthy water, his face jerked forward to meet it. Yinsen’s face inches from a glowing lump of coal. Sweat rising from his temples as he was screwed into a hulking metal suit that could have been his salvation or his downfall. And most of all, hand-trembling, muscle-knotting, mind-melting terror. Terror that the kid has lived with for twenty-one days. 

“I’ve been through it, May. I know what they do, the twisted way they think, and I could have thought about his safety for a second instead of barging in there at the cost of--” he jerks a shoulder in Peter’s direction, his beaten, gauze-swathed body collapsed heavily atop his mattress. 

“You barged in because you were desperate,” May counters with fiery sincerity, tearing her gaze from the kid to search for Tony’s eyes. “Because you love him. You had a chance to get him out and you couldn’t pass it up.”

Tony gestures to Peter again, failing to paper over the breaks in his voice as he says, “That isn’t love.”

“But you didn’t do that to him.”

“It sure feels like I did.”

Both of them are aware of the sudden shift in the tone of their conversation; with a hardening of her face that Tony has seen a less intimidating version of on Peter’s face, she flattens her tone and pins him with her gaze. Tony doesn’t dare to interrupt the point she begins to make. “Okay, I can’t - it’s time to cut the bullshit, Tony. I will not have you wallowing right now. I cannot handle it while my kid is still like this.”

Almost unbidden, her gaze strays again to Peter - Tony wonders if she’s worrying about the same things he is. Will he ever heal completely?

“We are going to be strong for him, okay?” she continues as if she’d never faltered. “Forget about the things we could have done or changed. You’ll forget about the way you came to get him, forget about passing out on him. I’ll forget that I let my sixteen-year-old child beat up criminals and didn’t consider that one day somebody with a grudge might choose to act on it.”

“There’s no way that was your--”

“That’s easy to think when it’s not you. And it’s not the point.” 

May is filled with a grief-stricken, worn-down kind of wisdom just then. It flows from fidgeting fingers and lashes clumped together by old tears; it grips Tony and doesn’t let him forget the words being spoken to him. 

“The point is that our kid is in a bad way, and we’re gonna be his pillars of strength. He is not going to worry one bit about how we’re feeling for once in his life. We’re gonna co-parent the shit out of this awful situation, and all three of us are gonna come out the other end, so help me God. I would prefer not to have to drag you behind me too.”

For a moment, Tony simply sits in stunned silence, marvelling at the fortitude of May Parker.

“How are you like this?” he says eventually, speaking his mind. “Why can’t I emulate your - what would Peter call it? Boss-ass parenting?”  

“Because - and I’m just making an observation here - you flail around with your emotions and don’t know what the hell to do with them.” 

The dry remark is punctuated by a laugh. 

Abruptly, the intense sincerity of moments before gives way to Tony’ favourite coping mechanism: joking uselessly about anything and everything that comes his way. The levity eases the hearts of them both.

Raising his eyebrows, he sits back in the hard hospital chair and replies, “That’s bold of you to say.”

“So you acknowledge that I’m right.”

“Well, my own dad was more of an advocate for not having any emotions, so I feel like I’m doing alright.”

May just offers him an affirmative smile.

---

“Sure you aren’t better off in the chair?”

“I’m fine, mom,” retorts Peter good-naturedly. “Besides, if I get tired, you can carry me back.”

There’s the sassy kid Tony loves.

Still, it’s not easy to watch said kid wobbling at a snail’s pace out of his room in the MedBay, his walking stick the only thing keeping from splattering across the floor.

“C’mon, bud, you’re killing me. At least lean on me.”

“No. I’d rather look like a grandpa than an invalid.”

Tony ends up dawdling uselessly behind the kid as he makes his determined, sluggish way towards the elevator.

It’s difficult to look at the kid and simply see Peter Parker anymore, searching past the arm casts and stitches and dressings and hospital gown and - although Tony hates to admit that it fazes him - the patchwork of burns across his face. He loves his kid to bits, no matter how messed up his face is. It’s the knowledge that, even unintentionally, Peter has them because of him, that makes him falter every time he lifts his eyes to meet the kid’s.

But scars be damned, the look on his face when they make it outside and the sun falls across him is unbeatable.

Ever the motormouth, the kid is silent for once, a sigh purging itself from his chest instead as he squints into the dappled light. It eases just a few of the million knots pulling at Tony’s own sternum.

“How are you feeling, kiddo?” he eventually works up the courage to ask.

“Pretty boss, actually, for not keeling over yet. Didn’t think I’d make it all the way here.”

“I actually meant…”

“Oh. Right.” Instantly, a little of the childlike joy withdraws from Peter’ demeanour, and Tony kicks himself.

There’s another long stretch of comfortable silence while the kid, still gazing out at the open grassland, collects his thoughts, mouth opening and closing minutely. Tony has learned to allow space for this grace period rather than interrupt the kid as he so often used to do, finding that when he let Peter talk in his own time, work past his stammering, he’d come out with some really surprising stuff. Profound. Intelligent. Sweet.

“I guess I’ve felt worse. But, uh, I’ve felt better. It’s just… the world is still here, but it feels like it should have… changed.”

It’s a vague statement, but Tony understands. Staggering out of the shattered remains of his suit, finding the Afghanistan desert around him as undulating and brutally hot as ever, he found himself baffled that the landscape hadn’t undergone the same trauma as him. The rest of the world was no worse for wear while he’d been torn to shreds. He’d felt that the desert itself was mocking him.

“And that’s what I’m scared of most, I think. Everyone’s - you know, they’re just going about their lives like normal and I have another thing weighing me down. Most people don’t freak out when they’re asked, like, a normal question. But it’s questions that get me. That’s all they said to me. They’d ask me what I wanted, and if I agreed to have anything… that was it.

“They wanted - they were trying to make me break, I think. So either I’d… I don’t know, drive myself crazy in there, or refuse everything else they offered me until I… maybe. I don’t know. And I’d forget there were people outside who wanted me with them.”

Tony smiles solemnly.

“I never forgot. I didn’t wanna let go. But it’s like - it was almost easier in there.”

There’s a lifetime of suffering etched into the look that Peter fixes Tony with then, tinged with something that might just be guilt.

“I know that sounds… weird--”

“Not weird at all. I felt that too.”

“You - what?” It takes a few moments, but the knowledge he hadn’t thought to turn over in his mind presents itself to him eventually and he gapes. “Mister Stark. Oh my God. You didn’t - I didn’t think about - you too?”

“Come to me with all your kidnapping queries,” Tony jokes flatly. Peter just widens his eyes.

The ensuing pause is tense. It’s broken by the appearance of a car near the entryway where they stand and a flinch at Tony’s side.

“What are they doing here?” the kid breathes, stricken.

Tony peers over at the opening car doors. “Who?”

He recognizes the kid’s friends, although he likes to pretend he doesn’t.

“It’s just Ted and Emma,” he says deliberately, but it doesn’t draw a laugh or even an acknowledgement from Peter, who appears frozen in place. “What, did you guys fall out over Snapchat? I thought they were nice.”

Swallowing fiercely, Peter turns on his heel and makes a swaying break for the doors.

“Kid!” Although at first he expects to have to run after him, Tony finds the kid is still so slow on his feet that he hardly has to move to address him. There’s no way he’ll even be through the foyer by the time his friends have reached - and after all he’d said about the people he loves getting him through his time in captivity, Tony had assumed he’d be a lot more excited to reunite with them.

It’s when Peter clumsily brings his cast-clad forearm up to cover his face that Tony makes sense of his reaction.

“They’re gonna see me, Mister Stark,” pleads the kid, hints of swollen red protruding from behind his wavering arm.

Although it twists at Tony’s heart to see the kid in such a vulnerable state and encourage him to remain in it, a more earnest chemical that sparks in his veins compels him to stand firm. “Yeah, they are, and it’s gonna be fine.”

“Peter!” comes an enthused shout from the approaching figures.

Stilling in indecision, Peter fixes his eyes on his walking stick, his white-knuckled grip on the handle. Tony simply waits for him to make a choice.

Ned makes it for him, sprinting over like lightning but halting abruptly a few feet in front of the kid, who eyes him with a face tautened by fear.

Tony sees Ned take in Peter’s appearance from top to toe. 

MJ joins him then, her deadpan veneer crumbling into horror-struck vulnerability as she beholds the brokenness of the once-mighty boy before her.

Peter ducks his head, hiding his expression behind a curtain of half-shaved hair. “I know,” he croaks.

There’s no reply for a long time. Then, as if he physically can’t contain his outburst any longer, Ned blurts, “ OhmyGodImissedyousomuchI’msogladyou’renotdead.”

Jerking his head back towards his friend a little, Peter lets out a bark of laughter that he surprises himself with.

Tears rapidly filling his eyes, Ned says, “Can I hug you?”

Peter opens his broken arm gingerly. “Don’t cry, dude,” he replies as Ned approaches with overly-hesitant steps, “Gonna make me cry, and when I cry it’s all over.”

The moment of embrace is heralded by a shared damp inhale from them both. Ned settles his arms softly around Peter, who sinks into the embrace, unable to raise his arms to reciprocate but making up for it by burying his face in the shoulder of his friend.

“Spider-Man trouble?” Ned questions him.

Faintly, Tony hears the kid mumble, “Sort of. It was just… they took me. Some bad guys.”

“You could have just told us, you dumbnut,” chips in Michelle, a telltale falter in the undertone of her own words, and goes to join the hug, looping her slender arms around both Peter and Ned. 

Tony can’t help but smile at the sight. The kid does have good friends.

“Didn’t want you to freak out,” mutters Peter. 

Ned pulls away a little with a frown. “We were freaked out enough,” he insists fervently, “We could take it.”

“He was freaked out to the max,” MJ adds, her trademark smirk ghosting her face for a moment. “I was cool about it.”

The kid isn’t comforted, however; Tony catches the gossamer-like glint of a tear racing down the unharmed side of his face. “It’s not just - I’m, I’m all screwed up now.”

“You’re fine. You’re still Peter.” 

Michelle draws him back into the hug, three sets of teenage arms interlinking, comforting one another, all plagued by suffering yet lifting one another up. A string of shaky sniffing noise emanates from where Tony can only guess Peter’s head is nuzzled, but it doesn’t worry him. In fact, he’s comforted by them. He knows the kid, can pick apart the different ways he releases emotion, and these tears signify relief.

It’s almost a minute before the group embrace is broken. Peter raises his head, face paler than when it had disappeared, and says, “Sorry - uh, guys, I gotta sit down.” Tony is baffled to find he’ll let Ned and MJ wrap their arms around him and help him back towards the doors although he’d been so adamant that Tony wasn’t permitted to do the same.

It leaves him idling by the entrance as they retreat, forgotten by the trio of single-track teenage minds heading towards Peter’s hospital room, but he finds himself remarkably unbothered. In fact, his heart is set at rest to such an extent at the sight of the three of them that he waits to follow them back to the MedBay, instead wandering a few steps further from the entrance of the Compound and inhaling the dewy scent of the day.

He’s just glad to see Peter healing.

---

The walking stick is only in active use for roughly a week before the kid’s back and ribs are well on their way to healing and he’s progressed to solid foods, beginning to gain the weight he’d dropped while captive. Usually, his healing might work at a faster rate, but malnutrition got him good. The freaky super-healing of old days resetting bones and staunching minor wounds after the kid’s patrols is only just now making a re-appearance, now the hollowness of Peter’s face is filling with colour again, now wiry muscle is re-threading itself along limbs that had looked fragile enough to snap with bare hands, now there is a hint of a spark punctuating his irises.

Tony, on the other hand, feels like he’s coming out of all this the worse for wear. The damn kid is going to give him a medical condition one day, he’s convinced. If he hasn’t already.

Recovery isn’t linear, it’s a hot mess. Tony knows this well. 

Peter cries in his assisted shower, then laughs uncontrollably for a straight minute at a meme MJ sent him while Tony is still drying his hair. He makes requests with distrust, then disquiet, then false confidence. He lets in visitors at last, lighting up from the inside out as he reunites with Pepper and Happy and Rhodey and hobbles out to the SI team that had helped find him to ramble out profuse thanks, then physically wilting when he returns to his room. His casts are sawed off. His hair begins to grow back. He eats his first meal. He cries at dinner. He has a nightmare. He begs to return to school, then begs not to the next morning. He stops writing halfway through a sheet of catchup Physics questions and stands at the Compound’s balcony blankly until Tony fetches him down. He remains blank and unresponsive for three days and nights before bursting back to life in a fit of tremors and tears and panic, then sags back in the arms of Tony and May and sleeps for a solid sixteen hours.

Now, he lies atop a jumble of cushions on the roof of the Compound, Tony at his side, and watches darkness bleed into the sky’s canopy.

Silence pervaded their walk towards the spot, and it pervades now. The gradual brightening of the crescent moon tells more for the moment than Tony’s words could, setting the tips of Peter’s eyelashes alight, spilling a pale wash of light across the fields that fold out from the two of them as if made by their hands.

It’s Peter who breaks the silence. “What’s gonna happen next?”

“What do you want to happen?”

“I don’t… I’m not sure, I guess.” Folding his arms tightly around himself so the ragged old fleece he’s wearing bunches upwards to warm his neck, Peter turns on his side a little, his eyes flickering upwards to meet Tony’s. “Everything was so simple when it was just me and my box. It sucked, but I knew what would happen. And before then, there was no reason to - to think about my life. It just happened. Now, I’m… scared. That if I don’t get it right I’m gonna stay like this, all screwed up, forever.”

The way in which Tony's face screws up at his declaration is overwhelmingly fond. “Peter, everyone's screwed up. Especially superheroes. We volunteer to deal with the blood and guts of the world, there's gotta be something wrong with us."

The kid lets out an abrupt giggle.

"But - you know what? No matter what, no matter how screwed up you feel, nothing's gonna stop you from being my kid. Nothing in the world - no, the universe.”

The truth having been dispensed, Tony sets back his shoulders against the cushions and notes the outlines of clouds dissipating into the captivating gloom of the night. While the kid makes no audible response, his stillness speaks.

“And if you don’t know what you wanna do, May and I can help you out. We’re in your corner.” A deprecating smile breaks out across his face. “I remember leaving Afghanistan, flying back to a world full of people waiting to see Tony Stark’s next move. They needed me to make a plan, crack a joke, do something.”

“What did you do first?”

“I asked for a cheeseburger,” he huffs.

Peter lets out a peal of laughter. It’s carefree in the way Tony only hoped it might return to when he saw the kid beaten and exhausted on the floor of the Compound’s entryway. “Must’ve tasted pretty awesome,” he says with a shrug.

“No, kid, it sucked.”

Peter swivels to study him.

“It sucked so bad that it brought me back to reality.”

“And… what was reality like?”

“In 2008? Reality kind of sucked too.” He pushes away thoughts of Obadiah’s leering face. They’re of no use to him now. “But - it’s crazy, because I think it took the kidnapping for me to figure that out. Not that I’m glad it happened. But… silver lining, I suppose.”

“Yeah,” is all Peter says, the furrow in his brow revealing that he’s deep in thought. Tony waits for him, pressing absentmindedly at his left temple where a low-grade headache buzzes. The night air, the peace of the moment, are helping to ease it.  

Eventually, Peter blinks harshly and says, “I think I wanna start patrolling again soon.”

“You do?”

Tony will admit that his blood chills at the admission. It’s the simple fear of a repeat of everything they’re still working to overcome.

“As much as it kind of terrifies me… yeah, I do. I, it’s - helping people, it’s my thing.” Peter smiles at Tony, the burnt side of his face still struggling to sustain the lifting of his mouth but conveying the earnest hope of the expression nonetheless. “It’s what makes my reality good. I mean, it’s - it’s hard, and it hurts, and I see people who are at their worst and people who know no better than lashing out, but I also--” 

The kid sobers in an instant.

“Did I ever tell you about the guy I met?” he asks quietly. “At the, uh, at the Queensboro Bridge?”

Tony shakes his head.

“He was standing right on the edge and he - yeah. I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I had to do something. I just - swung by and sat a little way away. He swore something awful at me at first, and I… I was so close to just getting up and leaving. I was sure he wanted me to - to leave, I mean - but I didn’t. Maybe two hours later, he just, he just turned around, walked away from the edge, and got back down onto the sidewalk. He let me walk him home. He didn’t jump. Because I was there. And that was just - you know, wow. I always think about that, that one time someone kept living because I was there to help them. I’m not giving up the chance to do that again, a million times if I can. It’s… it’s my responsibility, I guess, and it also just so happens that I love doing it. It’s my real superpower.” He nods at that, a small, tight, affirming motion. Spreading his arms so they hover above him, oversized against the distant backdrop of the stars, he raises his voice: “So, like, why should bad guys be able to get in the way of it? Screw that.”

“Screw that,” echoes Tony, at a loss for further comment. 

He won’t be keeping Peter away from patrolling any time soon. Not when the kid has a sermon like that to back him up.

A chill runs through him at the rippling of a current of breeze along the length of the roof; it jolts a bittersweet memory into his mind. 

“I wasn’t alone in Afghanistan, did you know that?”

“No.”

“I woke up to a man in the cave with me. His name was Yinsen. He…”

“Is this the last act of defiance of the great Tony Stark?”

As easily as Tony forgets on some days, on others he remembers so deeply that he can still smell the dust and smoke and sweat and fear in that cave.

“With his last words, he told me not to waste my life. He was my Spider-Man.” He throws out a grin, returned instantly by the kid, who has his cheek pillowed on an arm to watch him. “And look at me now, right? If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here today. Definitely wouldn’t be worrying my ass off about you all the live-long day.”

Tony sticks a hand out of his own bulky sweater and ruffles the kid’s hair, anticipating the kid’s swerve and messing with the curls until they’re irredeemably rumpled. Peter lets his lower lip protrude; Tony just laughs at him.

“So… you’re not wasting your life?” hesitates the kid, shuffling a little closer. There’s a more profound meaning behind the question, one that tugs at Tony’s heartstrings in a million different ways.

He fixes Peter with a level gaze. “Not one second of it.”

As if his words have put his mind at rest, the kid flops onto his back, exhaling in a sigh. He doesn’t bother to fix his hair, leaving it tufting away from his head in countless haphazard cowlicks.

The ensuing inhale Tony hears issue from the kid’s throat holds a new, darker note.

“Mister Stark, what happened to the Oscorp guys?”

“You don’t need to worry about them,” Tony asserts firmly.

“Mister Stark.”

“I made sure they’d never think about taking you again.”

Peter rolls away to the side at that: just a little, but enough to let Tony know that his words have unsettled him. He’d done it for the kid, as much as he knew that it wouldn’t be received positively. Perhaps he’d really done it for himself, then. His own peace of mind, certainly, and relief from the pressure of fury behind his ribs.

All he can think now, however, is that he can’t lose the atmosphere he and the kid have cultivated here, the peace, the honesty.

Turning himself to angle his body towards the kid, he begins, “You know, Pete, I - I really want you to know that you can call me. Any time. None of the crap I pulled before you took down Toomes. I’ll be your Spider-Man. If that sounds… good.”

As hesitant as he’d been, Peter’s furtive smile shows he appreciates the sentiment. He sniffs away the dampness of the evening and says, “That sounds really good.”

“When you get back out there, it’s gonna be tough, I can guarantee. Tough as anything. Nobody can really know what you went through. But I’ll be there, and--”

“I get it, Mister Stark.” The kid’s nose scrunches then in that unique, wonky way of his when he’s amused.

“What did I say about interrupting when I’m being nice?” Tony retorts, affecting offense.

Peter pays the words little heed, instead shifting until he’s tucked against Tony’s side and shyly nudging his head into the nook between his shoulder and neck.

At first, Tony’s stunned into stillness. He and Peter have never been very physically intimate in the past although Tony knows the kid derives a lot of comfort from it: he’s placed hands on his shoulders, squeezed once in a while, steered him one way or another with a hand at his back, even tucked strands of hair away from his eyes once or twice, but the hug barrier has rarely been broken. When he puts his hands on Peter, thoughts of flying fists and broken glass overtake his motor functions, drawing him away.

Perhaps it’s these years of wrestling back and forth that make the simplicity of Peter’s current closeness so breathtaking.

“Thank you,” breathes Peter.

The words encompass a thousand instances of gratefulness. He always forgets the way the kid can do that with a single sentence of thanks.

Tony slowly lets his arm curl around the kid’s shoulders. Far above them, a star pierces the blanket of the night with increased potency.

Caring his throat, he hums, wondering how to bring up the strange thought that’s crossed his mind. “Actually, I also wanted to… a couple of days ago, I found this - you know what, forget it. I said nothing.”

“That’s mean!” Tilting his head so he’s gazing up at Tony from just beneath his chin, he pleads, “Tell me what it is.”

“It’s stupid and sappy--”

“I love stupid and sappy. Please, Mister Stark.”

And there arrive the wide baby browns Tony can’t resist.

“Damn puppy eyes,” he mutters, fishing in the pocket of his pants for his phone.

“They still work?”

Frowning, Tony looks away from the glow of the phone display to find a startling amount of uncertainty in Peter’s demeanour.

“What are you talking about, Pete?” he exclaims, letting his genuine disbelief temper his tone. Before the memories can flood in, he lifts his free hand and brushes it gently across the kid’s patchwork cheek. “‘Course they still work. As long as your head is on your neck, you’ll be able to sway me.”

There’s a faint smile from Peter, but it’s not convincing enough for Tony. He continues: “You look great, by the way.”

The kid ducks his head, huffing out a nervous laugh. 

“Still Peter Parker. Still adorable.”

“I’m not adorable,” argues the kid weakly, casting about, “I’m…”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “You're adorable.”

“Okay,” Peter concedes with little reluctance.

Scrolling through his music app until he finds what he was looking for, Tony blows out a breath, feeling nerves unexpectedly rearing their head.

“It’s a song?”

“Yeah. I heard it first while you were out there. Made me think of you. Well, get ready for the sap.”

He presses play.

A soft guitar melody begins the song, slow strumming patterns flooding the rooftop and settling peace across both the figures lying there.

Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you

Turning in circles, confusion is nothing new

Flashback to warm nights

Almost left behind

Suitcase of memories

Time after...

Peter’s knee settles against Tony’s as he winds himself further around him. The warmth at Tony’s side is elating and calming all at once; he wonders why he was so scared to do this before.

Sometimes you picture me, I’m walking too far ahead

You’re calling to me, I can’t hear what you’ve said

And you say go slow

I fall behind

The second hand unwinds…

An alien but wholly welcome silence descends upon his mind, halting the constant whirring and worrying. Watching Peter’s eyes slide shut on his shoulder, he imagines the kid is experiencing the same thing. There’s a small, confidential smile curling across his face; it’s a thank you of its own.

If you’re lost, you can look and you will find me

Time after time

If you fall, I will catch you, I’ll be waiting

Time after time

Peter’s head bobs in a way that somehow communicates that he understands why Tony connected to these lyrics. They say what he can’t.

Tony is filled with overwhelming affection, so all-encompassing it spills from his chest and fills the Compound, the surrounding forest, the sky itself, for the small boy at his side who has grown an unfathomable amount since the day he first set eyes on a kid in a onesie running around Queens.

---

One month later

Standing before the long mirror in the corner of his bedroom, Peter studies himself and the bundle of bright red-and-blue fabric he holds.

The suit appears innocuous bunched up in his newly-healed hands that way, but it holds more power than he'd before been aware of: in the eyes of some, the power to condemn him. The power to regard him as a test subject.

It had happened out of nowhere , his danger sense knocking him off guard with a sudden blare that pricked viciously at the back of his neck. Then--

BANG

The gunshot sent him scrambling the length of the block to reach the source, slipping and almost crashing to the ground with the misplaced momentum of a haphazardly slung string of webbing. Sprinting the last few steps, he rounded the street corner and came across a woman with a gun to her head, flanked by a gang of four masked people.

"Spider-Man! Help, get me out of here--"

"Shut up!" thundered the gang member who had her pulled against his chest. "And you--" he tilted his pistol momentarily in Peter's direction "--put your fucking hands up! Don't try anything!"

As much time as Peter spent rescuing small animals from the perils of New York City traffic and halting the occasional robbery, he wasn't unfamiliar with the city's more ugly crimes. This was a textbook mugging. In fact, it felt almost... too familiar.

Peter raised his hands for the moment, although he had no intention of keeping them there. The gun was his primary concern, however, and until he had a guarantee he'd be able to keep it a good distance away from the scared lady's brains he was eager to play it safe.

His hurried strategization proved in vain, as did the quip half-formed on his tongue, when a sharp sting in the side of his neck compelled him to turn sharply to the side.

Nothing.

Groping at his neck, he closed his hand around a needle.

The drug hit him instantly, knocking his sense of balance and clouding his vision so severely he hadn't a hope of getting to the hostage.

Or was she even a hostage? Had any of it been real?

"Woah, what the hell," he remarked with alarmingly numb lips. The ground rose up to meet him in the way it always does in movies: the screen fades to black, the music halts - but his senses remained dulled to a blurry grey.

Shedding his t-shirt, Peter clears his throat in a preparatory gesture before twisting around to see the half-healed welts across his back. The angry red swelling that had once ringed each mark has softened to a slightly heightened pink which rings long white lines, forty of them still there but receding.

They're kind of cool, he thinks abruptly. They show that he's still around. That he is strong.

He shucks off his pants then steps into the suit with a deep breath.

Then came the hands, what felt like dozens of them to Peter's wandering mind, gripping, running up and down his suit, searching for something.

He was in deep shit; although he was nowhere near coherent enough to fight off the invaders with his lead-heavy limbs, he knew that for sure. These guys had him in their lap - literally. The possibilities of what might happen to Peter ran through his mind in quick, delirious procession, so vividly reasonable that they brought bile to the back of his throat.

He let out a quiet groan, the only act of protestation he could muster. It only drew a laugh from the hands. 

"They hit him hard, didn't they?"

"Not hard enough." It was the voice of the woman he'd rushed to save just moments ago. "Supposed to knock him out."

"Just hit him with another. It can't kill him, right?"

"Got a smaller chance than what's gonna happen once we get him to Norman."

Another furtive, ugly laugh.

A whizzing noise alerted him to the decompression of his suit. 

"Fucking finally."

He was pulled back and forth, limp as a ragdoll, as the million hands worked his suit off him, his last shred of protection slipping off his immobile legs and leaving him in his boxers.

"Oh, Christ. He's... young."

"Still Spider-Man. We do our job."

Tapping the spider emblem on his chest, Peter watches as the fabric rushes inwards to meet his skin, as he transforms from boy to superhero.

Though he'd managed to hide the lash marks by changing in corners after gym class, there was nothing he could do to conceal the fading burns on his face.

Peter greets the shining, reddened skin there with a mixture of solemnity and strange fondness. He no longer needs dressings, just time, and acceptance of his new appearance. His hair will grow out again. The marks will fade further and further until they're a part of him.

The hands seized him again and dragged him back down the street he'd entered so quickly, so blindly. His sluggish heart begun a weak chorus of hammering. Torn between utter panic and complete lethargy, his body rebelling against his screaming danger sense, he found to his dismay that the drugs began to win. A screech of tires; he was lifted onto a metal floor.

Oh, God, he remembers thinking vaguely. Mister Stark had better come for me.

The ensuing cacophony of voices was too multitudinous for him to pick out. The second needle in his neck, however, was keenly picked up by his pleading, aching danger sense. The awareness of the fact that a second dose of drugs was about to enter his bloodstream did nothing to prevent his vision fading to black, noise halting. End scene.

He passes out among the million hands and wakes up to white tiles.

Brushing gloved hands habitually through the errant locks of hair lying across his forehead, he watches himself one last time, tries to connect the dots between the suit Mister Stark had re-made for him, the invisible stitching, the black arrow-lines dividing bold red and blue, the graceful shape of the suit around him culminating at his neck in a neat seam, and the scarred skin that grows from that seam and forms the face of Peter Parker, Spider-Man.

"Peter Parker," he repeats under his breath, "Spider-Man."

He'll admit that the murky flashes of the past that mar his mind now scare him a little. Although he hadn't known it the first time he'd stepped into this suit, he makes himself both strong and vulnerable when he's in it. His heart hadn't stopped beating in his box, but it had come close, whether from thirst or hunger or pain or blood loss or sheer loneliness; and yet now it beats a tattoo against his tender ribs as if making up for any doubts of its fervour, beating and beating and beating.

But there's more than one reason why he's donned the suit today.

Peter slips the mask over his head and vaults over the windowsill, emerging into the brilliantly warm light of the golden hour that lays in delicate streaks across the patchwork of rooftops that make up the puzzle of Queens. He's warmed from the inside out by the light. Shooting a web, taking a leap, he swings, revelling in the cool wind, the airy momentum of his movement.

The glass doors of the Compound cast blinding, enchanting reflections of the sinking sun, but if Peter squints he can make out a familiar form waiting for him in the entry.

Letting go of his web line, he twists backwards in the air, arcing into a backflip just for the hell of it, before dropping to his feet outside the doors.

The first thing he notices is Tony's smile. It's an indulgent thing, packed so full of fondness that Peter feels the excess settling in his own expression, and lit up by the golden light.

Spreading his arms, Peter nods at himself, making a beckoning motion as if encouraging praise from a cheering crowd, then turns on the spot so Mister Stark can see every inch of the suit and know that Peter's decision to wear it again is very deliberate. Through the glass, there's a silent laugh from his mentor. Peter hasn't seen him so unapologetically happy since the day he was taken.

Dropping the goofy act, he pulls off his mask and watches the face across the glass brighten further still. Peter unconsciously brings up a hand to his old burns, a flicker of a reflection showing him the ragged skin for a moment before being swallowed up by the vast glory of the sun. Tony just quirks the corners of his mouth, the affection in his eyes unwavering.

Peter steps through the glass door, throwing out a blade of refracted light that pierces nothing but the safe haven of nature around him, and meets him inside.

[shebeafancyflapjack]

Does This Remind You Of Anything?

Consider this my Halloween whump drabble...My hallowhump drabble, if you will! Inspired by this post (which is also your trigger warning) so blame @cecret-with-c.

Shawn invites Eleanor to have dinner in TBP.

The last thing Eleanor expected when she was dragged from the portal in Bad Place HQ and separated from her friends was to be lead to a fancy dining hall. She’s made more than a few attempts to run only to be quickly grabbed by the demon heavies at every corner, to the point she decides just to follow Bad Janet to her fate.

The air chills her through her pink sweater that’s torn at the sleeve by now, even though there doesn’t seem to be any windows. 

“Ugh, look at you. Did you just crawl out of your mom’s hedge? Let’s get you cleaned up and looking good for the Boss.” Her obnoxious guide sneers at her before waving her hand.

Another blast of cold hits Eleanor as she loses her sweater and pants, replaced with the black dress she had been wearing the night before. Their final night.

She tries not to tremble, refusing to show weakness to the bitch next to her.

“Wow! You really can’t pull that off, can you, talk about washed out. Oh well, it’ll have to do.”

Eleanor just rolls her eyes. Do they really expect trash talk to have any effect on her self-esteem? No words from a stupid Bad Janet are gonna knock her confidence. They’ll have to try better than that.

The door on the other side of the room opens. Shawn steps in, wearing a suit to match Eleanor’s dress.

She clenches her fists.

“Ah. Miss. Shellstrop. How lovely of you to join me for dinner. Please, take a seat.” He says, cordially. 

She doesn’t buy it for a moment; “Cut the ‘polite evil villain’ crap, man. You wanna get on with torturing me old-school then do it. Don’t try this underhanded, psycho stuff when it isn’t what you’re into. Only Michael came anywhere close to being good at that and you just set him up to fail.”

“Now, now...Is it difficult to believe that all I want is to have a celebratory dinner with the leader of my competition after such an impressive feat?” Shawn asks, his hands up.

“Yes.”

“All right, I tried.” He shrugs; “Still, you might as well enjoy your last good meal, as the only thing you’re gonna be eating from now on will be wriggling or coated in acid. You’ve earned that much.”

“I’m not hungry.” Eleanor says, steeling herself for the worst; “Why just me? Where’s my friends? And Michael, what have you done with him? Is he being retired?!”

Shawn gives a chuckle and pulls his chair out to sit down; “Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t have Michael retired without planning the spectical he deserves, which takes a while to prepare. Those flaming ladles are not quick to heat up. I promise you, Eleanor, our friend Michael will be joining us very soon.”

No retirement yet. Her heart leaps with relief. That meant there might still be time. Time for her and Michael to try to escape together. They don’t have their Janet this time, her marble was sent back to the warehouse for rebooting. They’ll have to find her after they’ve managed to get the others and escape. Which they will. No way is she giving up yet, even if they did fail the experiment, even if they have no chance of getting to the Good Place anymore. As Michael said, they just need their one thousand and second idea, whatever that is.

She decides to play ball and takes a seat, glad there’s no whoopee cushion covered in needles waiting for her to sit on. 

Bad Janet, now wearing a slutty waitress outfit, brings out a silver plate with a cover on top, placing it before her, while an identical Bad Janet gives the same to Shawn at the other end of the long table.

Eleanor tenses with unease. 

“So whose head am I gonna find underneath then? I’ve already seen Hannibal, dude.” She tries to deflect.

Shawn smiles and waves his hand again.

The Bad Janets remove the coverings. The smell hits Eleanor’s nostrils before her eyes can take in what’s on her plate, served up in an enticing presentation.

“Seafood platter? Your favorite, I believe. As I said, it is intended to be a consolation prize.” Shawn tells her.

It feels too good for her to believe. So she doesn’t.

But, fuck, she is hungry...

“Are the shrimp gonna start eating me from inside, what am I looking at here?” Just tell her. Stop the preamble. 

“Oh no. You have my word. That might not count for much but I assure you, it will not harm you to eat. But if you truly insist, I can have it taken away.”

She should say so. Get rid of it. If she’s never gonna eat properly again then...

Oh, damn it. She’s too weak.

Eleanor picks up her fork and spears one of the pieces of fried shrimp before putting it into her mouth...Oh. Oh, holy fuck, that is good. It sends her eyes rolling back and way too much blood rushing towards her thighs as she has to eat another, and another.

When in Hell, right? If criminals on Death Row get to enjoy their last meal then why not her? 

“I knew you would like it.” She ignores her lame ass host over her food, not letting him spoil the final shred of pleasure she might have in her existence; “How’s the calamari?”

Eleanor gives a non-committal hum after swallowing a breaded piece.

“Well done and not too spongy, right?” Shawn describes; “That’s what’s good about fire squids. They’re already as cooked as they can be.”

She freezes.

“Truly the most difficult part is the slicing. It’s quite a challenge to get such tiny cuts from something six thousand feet tall, as well as washing off most of the juice while leaving just enough to add to the flavour.”

Eleanor’s hands fly up to her mouth as she starts to shake.

“And our dear Michael sure does love to squirm when he’s terrified, doesn’t he.”

Her stomach heaves as she tries to choke up what’s already sliding down her throat, tears of horror pricking at her eyes.

The Bad Janets are snickering from the shadows.

Eleanor pushes her chair back and grips the table, glaring across at Shawn who is already shoving pieces of his own dinner into his mouth. Possibly, very likely, pieces of his former employee turned rival. Oh God. Oh no, no, no!

“What?” Her companion tilts his head; “I told you he’d be joining us soon.”

Shawn starts to chuckle, maniacally, watching Eleanor fall to her knees and sob through her violent retching.

Fuck! Fuck, no, please, no, no!

-

-

-

-

She wakes with a fearsome gasp for air, followed by screaming and clawing at her throat, trying to force up something from her empty stomach. 

It’s not until a pair of hands grab at her wrists to keep her still that the tears of distress fall down her cheeks, her mind still convinced that the horror she witnessed, that she consumed, truly happened. It’s not until she recognises the face in front of her and the voice trying to cut through the disturbed fog in her half-asleep brain that she can connect the dots to realise it can’t have been real.

If it was real when Michael wouldn’t be holding her. He wouldn’t be right here.

“Hey, hey...It’s okay. It’s okay, look at me, Eleanor.” His palm is against her cheek, bringing her focus directly on him, on his concerned gaze, “Just a bad dream, okay? You passed out on the desk there, I was just about to move you to the couch.”

She blinks, rapidly, looking around to check. No hauntingly large dining room. No Bad Janets. It’s just the office. Their office. With its windows looking out to the night sky and their neighbourhood. 

She reaches out to grab at his jacket.

“We...It’s not over yet? W-we didn’t lose?” 

Michael’s eyes widen; “Boy, I sure hope not or that would suck! It would be kind of a deck move for Janet or the Judge to not let us know we missed the deadline, huh.” he forces a smile and strokes her face, wiping a stray tear; “We’ve still got a few months to go, Eleanor. It’s okay. We haven’t lost yet, I swear.”

Her breathing is still short and stilted from the fear. She feels her hands up Michael’s chest, his shoulders, to his face. Making sure he’s all there.

Not...sliced and diced.

“Everyone’s safe, right? We’re all good? And you....” She takes a sniff and reaches to take his hands from her face to hold them in front of her, giving them a firm squeeze to double check; “...You’re here. You’re okay? He didn’t...Oh, fork, Michael...!”

Her voice breaks. She can’t begin to explain how much the stupid nightmare has managed to shake her up. How forking terrified she felt at the thought of losing...

Losing everyone...

“C’mere. Let me reclaim the chair for a sec, yeah?” He gently tugs her up so he can slide in to sit down on the leather seat before pulling her back onto his knee. 

Eleanor curls against him, still shaking like a leaf, fingers clinging onto his shirt as she rests her leaking face against his chest.

“I thought we lost.” She confesses; “I thought I...lost you, bud...”

She feels Michael’s fingers move up to the back of her hair, clutching her close. She knows he’s probably wishing that he could promise her that won’t happen. But there’s no way of being sure he could keep that to her. He’s very careful not to lie to any of them after what happened last time. Complete trust and honesty going forward.

“Shh, just a bad dream. We’ll try our best to make sure it doesn’t become reality, right?” It’s the best he can do, sliding his arm around her back to keep her close.

She nods; “R-right...We’ll sort out Brent and then we should be fine. Damn it, I’m not letting the Bad Place get any of us. I’m not letting you get retired, ever!”

“That is very good to know, thank you.” She almost hears his smile.

Eleanor snakes her arms around his sides and hugs him tighter than she’s hugged anyone before.

“And I don’t care how good you taste, I’m not letting you get deep-friend and served with shrimp.”

That one probably didn’t bring a smile and she feels his hand still for a few seconds between stroking her hair. Thank fork that demons don’t sleep or else she probably would have influenced him to have the same nightmare.

One thing is for sure. She won’t be eating seafood again anytime soon. 

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Evening Shenanigans (Arc Beginning)

(Didn’t have the time or work ethic level to make sprite edits, so you’ll just have to imagine shirtless Makoto for this)

[10:07pm at 78th class dorms/living quarters. Two days later]

*Knocking on the door to the main area.

I’ll get it...

*Kyoko opens the door and is greeted by two familiar faces

Hey Kyoko!

Komaru?

Hey, I’m here too!

Oh, sorry Toko, didn’t see you there...

Course you didn’t

Don’t be such a downer...She wasn’t trying to be rude.

Not to be mean, but what are the two of you doing here?

We just came by to visit. Everything’s ok in Towa right now and I brought yum-yums...

Hmhm...Well, I’m sure everyone will be happy to know that.

Sorry, but Makoto’s not here right now. You’ll have to wait for him to get back.

Ok, thanks. Think we can borrow the spare room for tonight? We weren’t expecting to get here so late.

Of course you can.

Wow, there are a lot more people up than I thought there were.

Well, it’s still early.

Hey, Komaru! Whats up! What are you doing here?

Just visiting. Good to see you Hina.

*The two of them hug, then Hina hugs Toko

EuEharEhghghRh...

You’re never going to get used to that, are you?

Nope...

Then I myself will refrain from hugging you.

*In the main lounge area of the building, Aoi, Sakura, Yasuhiro, Leon, Sayaka, Mondo and Taka are watching TV.

Watcha watching?

Some old ass documentary about an old Ultimate Student and their adventures...or something...

To be fair, that’s pretty damn accurate...

Cameron Aat, the Ultimate Adventurer. It’s rather a shame what happened to her...

Let me guess...she didn’t survive the tragedy?

I don’t believe so, but that’s not what I’m talking about. She was talented, but unfortunately used her talent for the wrong things. Namely, she trespassed on certain owned territory and got arrested, and placed into a self-help association.

I see...

*Hina shuffles up to allow Komaru to sit on the sofa. Toko sits on the sofa arm.

It sounds interesting. I wanna watch.

Well, you arrived at a pretty poor time. The episodes already half over...

Aw...Well, can you tell me what I missed?

I shall give you a rundown when it’s all finished!

Thanks Taka...

Oh...

What’s up?

It’s starting to rain...

Ah, you’re right...sure is coming down hard...

Ah crap!

What’s wrong?

I left some of my laundry out to dry up on the roof today! It’s gonna get soaked if I don’t get it.

*Hiro rushes to the stairs to go grab his washing on the roof.

Now that you mention it, I did the same!

*Sakura follows

I have to go! Me too!

If you’re going, I will too. Think I left my other jacket up there...

*Taka and Mondo also leave

I mean, it is getting pretty late and I’ve got a big day tomorrow, so I think I’m gonna go to bed early.

What about you guys?

I think I’m going to stick around and keep watching. To keep Komaru and Toko company for a bit.

Yeah, same.

Me too.

See you guys later then...

Goodnight.

*Hina leaves

It is raining pretty hard out there, huh?

P-Probably one of those evening showers...

Can you really call it an evening shower if it happens at night?

I’m pretty sure it still includes the night.

*There’s suddenly a loud crashing noise outside the door, followed by a cry of alarm and pain.

Huh? What was that?

Sounds like something hit the door...

Hm...Wonder if that was Makoto...

Hold on, I’ll go take a look...

Let me come with...

*Komaru and Kyoko both head for the door where the sound came from

Hm...I’m kinda surprised she could tell...Kyoko I mean...

...!

Ow...Ow, ow ow...

*As Komaru and Kyoko open the door, they see Makoto lying in a heap on the floor, up against the wall.

Makoto!

Huh? K-Komaru?

What happened? Are you ok?

Jeez...you’re completely soaked...

I was out walking and then the rain came out of nowhere...I started to run as fast as I could and...I guess I ran a bit too fast. I slipped and went crashing into the wall...

Oof...That kinda hurts...

Come on, just get inside already...

*Kyoko ushers Makoto inside.

Do you want me to grab you a spare towel?

No thanks...I think it would be better if I just took a bath...

Ok.

Damn...I want to grab a spare change of clothes, but I’m dripping water everywhere...I can’t go back to my room like this...

Why don’t you ask Kyoko to go grab them for you? I'm sure she’d be fine with it.

I wouldn’t mind...

Oh, sure, thanks. That’d be...

Wait! No no no! I can’t ask a girl to do that for me!

Cool it, I was only joking...sheesh...

Hm...What is this?

What the-!? Mr Naegi, you’re soaked to the bone! If you go out in the rain at this hour, you’ll definitely catch a cold!

Shame there was no pretty girl you could share an umbrella and walk back with...

Oh, Hifumi! Perfect timing!

I see...You want me to bring your bath supplies? Very well, I will do so.

Thanks. You know where my room is right? Here’s my key. My spare clothes should be on my bed and my towel should be on the shelf in the shower room...And don’t go poking around my room without my permission, ok?

No need to worry Mr Naegi, I wasn’t planning on it.

I shall be back in a jiff! Stay here and let off some steam!

Got it. Thanks a bunch.

*Hifumi rushes to Makoto’s room to grab him a spare change of clothes and a towel.

...

Kyoko? What’s wrong?

Sorry, I was just a bit distracted. It’s not often that I see your hair really soppy...That one big spike on your head is really droopy right now.

Huh? Oh, that...

I guess that’s pretty funny to imagine...I must look like a damp animal right now...

*Makoto says this as he proceeds to take off his jacket and his wet shirt.

It’ll probably look really silly when it’s dry too. It’ll be all floofy and fuzzy...

Yeah, probably...

...!

Kyoko? Is something wrong?

...

My, my, big brother, you really are quite bold...getting undressed in front of a woman...

...? ...!

Ah! Kyoko, I am SO sorry! I didn’t mean it! I just got carried away because Komaru was here and I didn’t think she’d mind since she’s my sister and all and...

No I’m...not too bothered by it...You don’t need to apologize...

Da-dada-dadaah! Hifumi Yamada has returned once again! Accompanied by the items that Mr Naegi requested from him.

Another one off the quest list.

That was fast! Did you find it alright?

Of course! It was right where you said it was!

Alright...I’m heading to the bath now. Thanks you guys.

Well, I didn’t really do anything.

I was only fulfilling a friend request.

*Komaru, Kyoko and Hifumi head back to the lobby.

What happened back there?

Makoto was out and then on the way back home, he had a bit of an accident...

Sounded like more than just an accident to me...

...

Kyoko...?

Huh?

You ok? Your face is...unusually red...

I-It’s nothing...

...

If I am no longer needed, I think I shall retire to my room for the evening.

Yes! I think we all should probably head to bed.

For real? Well, show’s over anyways, so I guess...

Gdnight guys and girls...

Goodnight Mr Kuwata.

Goodnight.

Kyoko...!

Huh?

Stick around a little bit...

Why?

Makoto’s still in the bath. You don’t want him coming out to an empty room, do you?

...!

I don’t think he’d mind too much...

Come on, sit down!

Huh!?

*Komaru forces Kyoko into a seat and gives Sayaka a cheecky thumbs up. Sayaka returns.

Just wait for a bit, he’ll be out soon I’m sure!

Goodnight!

What was that about?

Shush!

*Everyone except Kyoko leaves...

...

What was that...?

To be continued...

[bluepenguinstories]

Remoras Full Chapter XIII: Yield

Everyone was in such a panic, including the kid, and I was clueless. I was in my room when it all went down, listening to some classical music, and brainstorming what kind of weapon would fit best for me. All that good stuff. All I knew for sure is that I wanted to be a total badass.

That all got interrupted with a thud and a crash. I tore off my headphones and rushed to the door. My head poked out of the room and I called out.

“What’s going on out there?”

Heavy footsteps and heavy breaths were heard before Sunny came into view.

“Oh good! You’re awake!” She grinned. Even though her words were rushed and it was obvious that she was stressed. “Ray had a bit of an accident, so he’s going to be in the hospital for a while! Maybe just a few days! Or a few weeks! Not sure yet, but it’ll be fine!”

If you’re in distress, you can say so. Just because your name is Sunny doesn’t mean you have to be sunny all the time. What am I thinking? Enough with these blunt thoughts! I need at least one person not to be mad at me!

At least I managed not to say that out loud.

“Anyway, can you watch Tigershark while Remora and I are gone?”

“Um…” Of course. I should have said yes. I had no reason not to. But sometimes the things that came out of my mind didn’t correspond with the things I should have done. “I mean...it’s a lot of pressure...I’d be all alone, and…”

...And I’ve never done anything akin to babysitting before, I sure was glad I didn’t say that part out loud.

“I bet Remora would appreciate it,” Sunny winked and it was as if she transferred her short breath onto me. Not only that, but my heart pounded against my chest. How Sunny could say that name so casually was beyond me.

“Of...Of course!” I stammered.

“Great! There’s plenty of food, Tigershark can cook for herself, so really, it should be a piece of cake! See you two in a bit!”

I held out my thumb and winked. “You can count on me!”

Now, the idea of ANYONE entrusting me to take care of a child sounded like recipe for disaster. I didn’t even like kids. I liked fish. And badass tall ladies.

...But never mind all that. Sunny was right. For the entirety of the day, the little orange shark was a breeze. I thought she’d be upset the whole day because of Ray, but when I told her it was us two for a while, she just smiled and said, “okay! I’ll make lots of pudding!”

“Sounds good!” I replied, then planted myself in a booth and kicked my legs up on the table. Given that all was quiet and Tigershark knew what she was doing, I took it upon myself to brainstorm what kind of weapon I’d want. Or maybe if I was a superhero, what kind of power I would have. Then, there was the matter of what kind of cape I’d have. What kind of outfit. And what outfit would match what weapon. It grew to be exhausting.

I started to doze off. Napping in an empty diner. The perfect life, really. I had a pleasant dream where I was having a picnic with someone/no one in particular and a school of jellyfish were swimming across the air. Then ninjas appeared. And a whole bunch of peaches fell down from the tree which there wasn’t a peach tree before, but hey, it was a dream. All was going well and that someone or no one in particular and I shared a peach together and then –

“HEY!” An outside force yelled and I heard a slam. I jumped up and saw Tigershark with her hands slammed down on the table and an angry expression on her face.

“Sheesh,” I rubbed my eyes. “Why so violent?”

“I wanna go exploring!” She demanded. I looked out the window. Nothing but a blanket of white for miles. Well, I noticed a faint outline of the airport in the distance, but truth be told, I was kind of avoiding that place ever since I tricked that pilot/stewardess. “Won’t be fooled again”, right?

“There’s nowhere out there to explore,” I stared her dead in the face and expected her to take the argument without question.

“Wrong! There’s polar bears! And seals!”

Well, couldn’t argue there. Guess I would have to try a different approach.

“Indeed. And they all wanna eat ya!” I opened my mouth wide and raised my palms as if they were claws. She just did it right back.

“I’ll eat them first!”

Abort! Abort! New plan!

“Err...about eating, know what you want for dinner?”

She put her finger on her chin and went, “hmm…”

Hmm...indeed. Whatever she was having, I knew I wouldn’t have it. Too many meat eaters ‘round these parts.

“Hákarl!” She announced with the utmost glee. “Ray says it’s the only thing he himself won’t eat!”

From the sound of it, that didn’t sound all that bad. Perhaps it was a vegetarian dish of sort.

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“Fermented shark!” She sounded like that was the coolest thing ever, but did she know? Did she know what the word ‘fermented’ meant? How could anything ‘fermented’ be good?

I started to make gagging sounds. First, it was something ‘fermented’. Second, it was meat. Totally meat.

“Yeah, you help yourself to that.”

In the end, she ate the gross thing, which I don’t think she liked, given the expressions on her face, but she acted like she did. Probably just to spite me. As for me, I just had an orzo salad. What could I say? I knew what I liked.

All in all, taking care of Tigershark proved to be a breeze.

...So how did it turn out like this?!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA –” Tigershark yelled as she ran out of my room and into the hallway.

“Get back here! I’m not done yet!” I chased after her, holding my book in one hand.

“NO! YOUR STORIES ARE SCARY!” She ran through the kitchen and back out into the dining room. Chairs were knocked over in an attempt to keep me away from her. Lucky for me, they were pretty easy to jump over once they were knocked over. In fact, I was just about to catch her when the door opened up.

A customer? Crap. I am so screwed if that’s the case. Wait. I’m screwed even if that’s not the case. How do I explain this?

“Hey, we’re back!” Sunny’s voice called out in that same kind of voice I imagined the sun on a Raisin Bran box had.

Both Tigershark and I stopped dead in our tracks and looked up to see the towering presence of Sunny and Remora.

“Uh...I...can...explain…” I uttered the words in spite of how futile I knew they were. No. I couldn’t explain. But luckily, before I could embarrass myself further, Tigershark stepped up to the plate to explain for me.

“I asked for a bedtime story and she told me something scary, instead!” Tigershark whined in front of them.

“Okay, for context: I just told her about the Greenland shark that’s local to the area. That’s all,” there. I made my case.

For further context: yes, Sunny did get me that field guide of fish in the arctic. I wish I was more excited to have gotten such a gift, but each time I looked at the book and thought about opening it up and reading it, I found myself lacking any interest. So when Tigershark barged into my room (I thought for sure I locked it…) and demanded a bedtime story, the conversation went a little like this:

Me: I don’t have any stories*. Sorry.

*Note: I did have some fics bookmarked on my phone, but some of them were a little embarrassing to read out loud.

Tigershark: Make something up!

Me, after noticing the field guide on the stand next to my bed: Hold on! I can tell you about the thing you ate for dinner!

Next thing I knew, she freaked out and ran out of the room. I was just telling her how the shark’s skin and meat were poisonous and that they lived in the depths and were among the largest species of shark. I wasn’t even finished talking about all that great biological stuff by the time she ran out. Let it be known that at least one person was intimidated by fish facts, and that was Tigershark.

“I swear, everything was cool for most of the day! I did well! You guys just came back at a bad time!” I felt like I was on the verge of tears, but of course I wasn’t. Tigershark was, though. She sobbed up a storm.

“Well, I’m glad to see you two had fun!” Sunny grinned.

That’s not reassuring at all.

“Yeah! We had fun!” Tigershark grinned. “I made lots of pudding!”

I balked. “It’s hard to tell if you’re actually upset or not!”

In response, Tigershark went right back to the waterworks. Remora knelt down next to Tigershark.

“Here, I’ll tell you a bedtime story. Have you heard The Snow Queen before?”

Tigershark shook her head.

“It’s a great one, a fairy tale from the same author of The Little Match Girl. My favorite part is in the beginning when Kai gets glass shards in his eyes.”

“WHAT?!” Tigershark cried out.

Remora looked around. “What? Was it something I said? I don’t get it. It’s just a fairy tale.”

What kind of fairy tale involves glass shards being put in people’s eyes? I mean, sounds like a really cool fairy tale, especially if Remora liked it. Like, something I would want to read right away and think of her all the while. But that still begs the question, what business does a fairy tale like that have being so cool? No. Better question: would that be the kind of fairy tale to tell as a bedtime story?

“Heya Tiger, how about I tell you about the time Ray and I pulled off a heist at a royal ball?” Sunny suggested, which brightened the kid.

“Shark!” The kid replied.

“Hm?”

“Tiger and Shark! Because I’m a tiger that’s also a shark!”

Does...does she not know there’s an actual species of shark called the tiger shark? Oh, forget it.

While I wanted so bad to approach Remora in an attempt to say or do something to make her proud of me, to see me, I disregarded that goal. I already embarrassed myself for the night, so the way I saw it, my chance was over. Instead, I turned to Sunny.

“Hey Sunny, before you go to tell her your story, can I ask you something?” I leaned over to make sure Tigershark wasn’t around. Maybe it would be great if Remora was, though. She could hear my idea and maybe she’d be proud of me.

No. Enough with that. Focus.

“Sure thing!” Sunny replied, chipper as ever.

“I’ve been giving it some thought, and I think the best way to figure out what kind of weapon I’d want would be to meet this blacksmith friend of yours. I mean, no matter what, I’ll need to train myself to utilize whatever I choose, so I may as well figure out what I’d like to train myself with, yeah?”

“Hell yeah! That’s the spirit!” I was blown away by Sunny’s enthusiasm.

“So can I go? Like, right now? Hmm?”

Sunny turned around and called out to Tigershark, “I’ll be just a couple minutes, okay little tangerine?”

Little tangerine? Oh. Right. Orange hair.

“I’m glad you’re so eager to go, but it’s a little late. Shouldn’t you try to get some sleep first? Besides, Remora and I are still going to be visiting Ray in the hospital periodically, so it would be better if you stayed here so you could watch Tigershark for now.”

Right. Crap. Slow and steady and all that. Responsibility sure liked to put a halt on things.

“We could just alternate. It’s not like we both have to go there at the same time,” Remora chimed in.

Eep. Was she still there the whole time? Did she hear me?

“Oh! You’re right!” Sunny snapped her fingers.

I turned around. Still towered over me, like a titan, Remora stood.

“Yeah, I heard the conversation,” she answered before I could even ask. “It’s a good excuse to get out of the house, and the fresh air might clear your head. Maybe you’ll come back with a new perspective on things.”

I didn’t know what any of that meant. All that registered was, “you have my approval.” I think that’s all the takeaway I needed.

With that, Sunny told me how I could get there and I was off within the next few minutes. Yes. You heard right.

When I awoke, I stepped out of the submarine and onto the docks of the town of Olympia. All around me was a thick, deep purple air which signified nightfall.

“Wow, that was fast!” I remarked. “It’s still night and everything!”

The ferryman poked his head out of the door of the submarine, his head covered with nylon mesh, presumably to obscure his face.

“Actually, this took about a day and a half. Even accounting for time zones,” he corrected me. Sheesh. You mean I had to pay someone AND get corrected? What lousy service.

“Well, thanks again,” I waved, and the submarine lowered itself back under the waters.

Once it disappeared, I dug into my pocket and pulled out the note that Sunny wrote for me:

“After you arrive in Olympia, you’re gonna wanna look for Hephaestus. Any other blacksmith and you know you’re gonna get a shoddy job. But Hephy’s a cool dude. Charges a high price, but considering the quality of his craft, it’s all worth it. I stashed some money in your other pocket. Should be enough to get you something small. Anyway, have fun, stay safe, and remember to keep a coin on you so you can pay the ferryman to bring you back home!

Sincerely, Sunny.”

Sunny sure came in clutch. I’d have to thank her when I returned. But for the moment, my main objective was a simple one: seek out Hephaestus’ shop.

Past the rows of houses with their dim orange glows, I looked for any signs of a shop that might still be open. That was the first clue. Not that it made it any easier. The further I walked, the more clear it was that Olympia wasn’t like your typical city and more like one of those small coastal towns that didn’t get a lot of visitors.

After a while, I found it: a wood building that didn’t stand out from any of the others, but held the sign above its door ‘Hephaestus’ shop’.

“Well, if that wasn’t any more obvious, I don’t know what would be,” I noted, before opening the door.

As soon as I walked in, I sneezed. The air was quite dusty, cobwebs all over the place. My attention was drawn not toward the weapons, but a lamp which rested on the counter of the shop. Its glow illuminated the room, although not by much. Absent was any sign of a blacksmith. Not that I could blame the guy, seeing as it was whatever ‘o clock.

“Hello?” I called out. No one answered. No one appeared.

So while I waited for someone to show up, I took a look around at the weapons on the walls. There were swords and axes of all varieties on the walls. Broad, long, thin, thick. If you could name it, it was probably there.

“I feel like I deserve a sword, but those things tend to be heavier than they look,” as noted by my one attempt at holding one.

There were other things to consider. Like bows. Or spears. Halberds? Lances? The possibilities really were dizzying.

“Can I help you?” Boomed a low voice with a thick Mediterranean accent.

“Eep!” I jumped. Startled, my hairs standing on end, I turned around and saw an old hairy guy whose body resembled a slab of meaty muscle more than a human’s body. Like, such a thing shouldn’t have been possible, yet it was. Really, it was incredible, but not in a “wow, that’s so cool” sort of way, and more like “I bet if I shaved off his beard he’d look like a giant thing of meatloaf”. In case it wasn’t obvious, that sort of thing really wasn’t my cup of tea.

“Are you going to keep standing there looking dumb, or what?” He bellowed.

“Yes! Er...I’m interested in your wares!”

“Anything in particular that you’re looking for?” He asked. That was a toughie.

I looked around. Nothing really spoke to me.

“I was thinking like a sword, but because of my size and my lack of strength, that may prove difficult. Fantasy novels really make it look a lot easier than it really is, y’know? Like, you got kids picking up swords and slaying dragons and here I am, an ex-college student…” Crap. I was rambling.

“So a short sword? A dagger?”

Oh. Those were things. I totally forgot.

“Something like that. Totally.”

He pointed down.

Under the counter was a glass case where short swords, daggers, and all other pokey things lay.

“Hmm...Hmm…”

Well, Sunny specifically gave me enough money to get myself something small, so I may as well be searching here anyway. Oh! That one! It’s got a really nice look to it and I like the asymmetry! Because everyone knows that symmetry doesn’t make for ‘cool’.

“I like that one!” I pointed at the knife which piqued my interest. It wasn’t just the way the steel was crafted. No, it was that the handle was coated in a purple finish! “A yakut knife?” He asked, as if telling the name would make me reconsider.

“I don’t know what that is, but yeah.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Ah, that one takes me back a few years when I went to visit a friend in Siberia. He showed me how to make those knives. Fun times. Later, we made love.”

Did he have to add that last bit?

“Um. Yeah. Can I buy it?”

He nodded while continuing to smile. Great. I had the old dude in dreamland.

I fished (no pun intended) the money out of my pocket and handed it to him. He sifted through each note and then broke the news.

“You’re short,” he told me and handed the money back.

Like, yeah. We all know that. No need to rub it in.

“Am I some kind of joke to you?” I shot back.

“I’m talking about change. You’re short a few euros.”

Dammit, Sunny.

“Can you give me some kind of ‘newbie discount’?” I knew that wasn’t such a thing, but I had to try my luck with something.

“No can do. If you got your sights set on that one, come back when you have enough cash.”

“How much more do I need, anyway?”

He leaned over and whispered the amount into my ear. In response, I whispered, “fuck.”

“Well, jeez, man. Anything I can do to make enough money around here? I don’t wanna return to Sunny empty handed.”

“Did you say ‘Sunny’?” He asked, and I thought my tides were about to turn in my favor.

“Yep. She said you were the real deal and that you could hook a gal up.”

“That explains why you would want an arctic knife…” he muttered.

Oh huh. I just learned something new. Maybe I could tell Remora when I got back to the diner.

“Yeah. Brr…” I shivered for added effect.

“In that case, it will be about a thousand euros more.”

“What?!”

“Sunny owes me a lot of money. Last time she was here, she got drunk and got in a shootout which resulted in my forge getting wrecked.”

GOD-DAMMIT, SUNNY!

“Anyway, to answer your question, you could always check out the bulletin board in the local tavern. Sometimes people post requests there. Work enough odd jobs, and I’m sure you can afford this beauty.”

What am I in? An RPG?

“Yeah. Totally. No problem. I’ll be back in a day. Two days tops. Maybe a week at most. Let’s just say two weeks, for the sake of leeway.”

“Fine by me. See you around.”

This was supposed to be a simple trip. Of course it couldn’t just be about one thing, could it? Ah, but I should have known when Sunny explained how I would get to Olympia:

“My blacksmith friend lives in a place called Olympia. Now, I know you’re excited to go, but as I said, it’s late; there’s not a plane that would take you there at this hour,” she told me. “Besides, there’s only one way to get there from here and it’s via the ferryman.”

“The what?” I asked her.

Sunny went on to explain further:

“He’s a mysterious figure who operates a submarine. It’s said that no matter where you are, if you drop one of his coins into the ocean, he’ll show up and take you to Olympia.”

“That sounds weird. Are you just pulling my leg?”

“Afraid not. Plus, due to his secretive nature, he requires every passenger be unconscious if they wish to ride in his submarine. So if you want to go now, I’ll have to sedate you. Then, he requires the passenger wrapped in cloth.”

Remora spoke up, and be still, my heart, in my defense: “if this isn’t a joke, then it’s sus at best.”

“Ain’t disagreeing with ya there. But rules are rules. So what do you say, sprout?”

“When did I become a ‘sprout’?” I groaned. And yes. That did seem sus. But I was willing to give it a try nonetheless. “Anyway, yeah. Go ahead.”

Whatever I had to lose, I decided to take my chances.

I trudged myself back out onto the streets. Well, I suppose it wasn’t a total loss. I could probably stay at a motel for a bit with the money Sunny gave me.

Okay, sorry. I know you can’t read my thoughts, but I was just a little frustrated back there. You’ve still been a huge help, Sunny.

While an inn would’ve been a great idea, I decided against it. The way I saw it, I’ve already been asleep for a day and a half, and besides, I was hungry and the night was still young. So off to the tavern I went. I pulled out the map app on my phone and let my legs do the rest. Within the hour, I was there. In the rowdy and chaotic atmosphere that was a tavern.

“What’ll it be?” The server asked as I stood next to the bulletin board. I didn’t pay the server much mind, but I knew I needed to order something.

“Give me a hard water.”

“On the rocks?”

I waved my hand away, with a €20 note in between my fingers.

“Just a hard water with ice, please. I don’t need any rocks in my drink.”

Now that that was out of the way, all my focus was on the bulletin board. Most of these paid very little for very demanding tasks. Things like helping some folks with yard work to someone looking to buy loaves of fish. None of those were of much interest to me, save for one request: “help me find my family’s necklace. Willing to pay over €1,000,000 to whoever brings it back. Call this number for more details.”

Now, I was on that shit. As soon as I saw the post, my thumb found itself planted firm on the dial pad. Not even half a minute later, someone picked up.

“Hello?” Answered the voice of a middle-aged lady. Her husky voice reminded me of those femme fatale type characters in action movies. Or a phone sex operator. There was no in between.

“Um. I think I may have gotten the wrong number? Hold on.” I pulled the phone away from my ear. Nope. Same number that was on the poster. “Or maybe I didn’t? I don’t know.”

Thick laughter followed. Her voice was alluring, not going to lie. However, it was in one of those kind of upper-class refined type voices where they really let each syllable marinate.

“Is this about my family’s necklace?” She asked once she calmed down.

“Yes. Er. Did you ever find it? Still need help looking?”

She began to sob, something I did not expect.

“No...it’s still missing,” she said at last. “Please. I think it would help if we talked more in person. I’ll text you my address.”

“Sounds good. See you in a bit.”

I hung up and saw that there was a new message.

That was fast.

I copied the address and pasted it into the maps app, then headed down there. To think that she would let me into her humble abode so late at night...I had to be careful. It could have been a trap.

Relax. It’s just to get more info about the mission...er...request. I better not act all timid like this once I show up at her place. I gotta act professional.

When I arrived at the address, I was awestruck. Despite how much money she was offering, she didn’t live in some big mansion. Well, maybe it was like a small mansion. I think my mom would’ve called it a condo. I had to climb up a long flight of stairs in order to reach the front door, and when I did so, I knocked.

The door opened to reveal a woman with curled silver-gray hair which didn’t even extend to her shoulders. She had long, curled fingernails, which I only noticed because of how hideously long they were. Just as she was. Like, really? Why did everyone have to be so tall in comparison to me?

“Come on in,” she beckoned, her lips curled into a smile.

I followed her in and she sat in a plush chair. Next to her chair was a small table where an ashtray lay.

“You don’t mind if I smoke, do you?”

Yes! I mind so much! If I get breathing problems because of you, I’ll take that necklace and shove it --

“Not at all,” I shook my head. I had to keep my cool.

I watched her lift up a long stick and inhale, then blew out smoke from it. The scent was rather perfumey and not what I would have expected from tobacco.

“Um. What are you smoking, by the way?”

“I don’t know. I think it’s patchouli scented.” It took me a sec, but then I just had to follow up on that.

“Wait. Are you smoking incense?”

“I don’t know,” she looked away. “I’m distraught.”

Clearly.

“My condolences,” I replied. Intrusive thoughts would be the death of me.

“Thank you,” she set down the incense stick and crossed her arms. “Now, let’s get into business, shall we?”

“Yes. Let’s.”

“As you know, the necklace I lost is an important family heirloom. I hope to have many children one day and have them all fight to the death to see which one will receive it.”

I...what? No. Never mind. She was probably joking. I mean, that wasn’t how the necklace was passed down to her, was it? Of course not. That would have been ridiculous.

“When was the last time you saw it?” I pressed on. If I was going to play detective, I had to ask the real questions.

“Just a few nights ago, it was in its glass case next to my bed post. The next morning, gone. Along with my husband.”

Again. What?

“OK. You never mentioned anything about a husband.”

“Oh yeah. If not for him, I’d already have many kids. He’s always running off looking for the next lay. Catch my drift?”

Yes, but I really wanted to focus on the necklace.

I nodded along. That was for the best.

“If he’s constantly cheating on you, why don’t you just divorce him?”

“Because, dear. Everything that’s his is also mine. Which extends to his mistresses.”

Oh. It was that kind of relationship.

The more I learn, the less I want to. Could we PLEASE get back to the mystery of the missing necklace?

“So do you think your husband took the necklace to impress someone new?” I asked. There. Nice segue, nice save.

“No,” she dispelled that theory. “He’s not so shallow as to try to impress others with material goods. The stolen necklace and my missing husband are unrelated.”

Oh. My. Gods. I so wanted to bash my head against an invisible wall. But I held back.

“So any idea on what happened to it, then?”

She gave a short nod before giving her reply.

“You have to understand, this accessory is worth a fortune. I suspect it’s the work of thieves.”

Ah. There we go. That made sense.

“If that’s the case, they may already be far away from here.”

“Thankfully, I know for a fact that they’re still in town. I almost caught the thieves, but they were well armed, and me, being a poor defenseless lady.”

“Got it. Where did you last spot them?”

She looked around the room all absentminded. I decided to do the same. One key detail stood out to me: the vases, the clocks on the walls, the furniture, it all had this vintage and antiquated feel. It probably wasn’t because she was all that old. Maybe she just wanted to give off this vibe of living all high class and didn’t feel the need to live in some huge place.

“Over next to a warehouse by the docks. They may have moved locations since.”

That made sense. If they were spotted once, why would they stay in the same place. But for real, those must have been some lousy thieves if they thought staying in the same town altogether was a good idea. That mission was going to be a piece of cake. I pointed my thumb toward myself and grinned.

“You’re in luck I showed up! I’m a professional when it comes to this sort of thing!”

“So I can count on you, then?” Her voice, a pleading but hopeful echo. As if I were her potential savior. Finally, it was my time to shine.

“That’s right! Or my name isn’t Demisexual!”

She tilted her head. “Demisexual?”

“Er...it’s my superhero name. It’s a work in progress.”

“It sure is an attention grabber.”

“What about you? Is there a name I should call you?”

Her head bobbed. Tipsy? Maybe. Or maybe the incense fumes have gotten to her. “We’re close enough that you can call me by my first name, yes?”

Not really. This is just for a job. But go ahead.

“Sure,” I shrugged.

“I’m Hera.”

As soon as she uttered those two words, it was like something snapped within me. All the blunt force thoughts I’ve done my best to keep in. My best not to be ridiculous. My best not to comment on the ridiculous. It was all culminating in this moment.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I aired out my complaint.

“What? Is something wrong?”

“Come on! I was passed out as a ferryman took me here, first off! Then I arrived in Olympia! Then I meet a blacksmith called Hephaestus! Then there’s you! Oh, I should’ve seen your name coming when you mentioned your husband, but I was sooooo focused on recovering that necklace! Let me guess: your husband’s name is Zeus?”

“How’d you know?”

“Lucky guess. I mean, it couldn’t possibly be that I stepped into Ancient Greece Reference Land, could it?”

She let out a heavy sigh, and then smiled.

“Deary, I cannot speak for any blacksmiths. That kind of thing’s not something I’m interested in. But as for my husband and I, let me assure you that it’s just a coincidence. While not the most common, there are many people in the world with the name Hera. It would be an insult to them to suggest their names could be chalked up to a reference.”

“Yeah,” I looked down. “I’m sorry about that. I’ll still get that necklace, though!”

“I await your return, hun,” she replied as she saw me off. Really, I shouldn’t have snapped like that. She seemed like a nice enough lady.

As I raced back down the stairs, I decided I needed to pay Hephaestus another visit.

“Hey Heph...Heph…!” Ack. I needed to catch my breath. I really did race back to the shop.

He emerged from the back of his shop, still the same mass of muscle upon muscle.

“What can I do for you? Got the money?” He got right down to business. Guess it made sense. He did own a business, after all.

“Actually, I was wondering if there was something else I could afford.” I handed him the money once more.

“Hmm…” He gave it some thought. Then pulled out a stiletto. “You can have this. It didn’t take me long to make.”

“Good! I’ll take what I can get!” I snatched it away from him.

“So no longer interested in the yakut knife?” He asked.

“Oh no, I still am. And I’m going to get it. I just took a job and it’s going to pay me plenty. But I gotta have something to defend myself with.”

“Look, whatever you got going on, just leave me out of it. I’ve got a reputation to uphold. I’m a craftsman, not an arms dealer.”

“Not a problem! See ya!” I ran back out to embark on my investigation.

Now let’s see...she said a warehouse along the docks, right? They probably weren’t there anymore, but it still seemed like a good idea to check. Eventually I reached a series of white marble buildings which served as a great contrast to the night sky. If I had to grade it, I’d give it a B+ for the composition, even though really, the architecture work was boring.

As I approached the warehouse buildings (I mean, I have to assume that’s what they were), I heard voices around the corner. I clung to the building and listened in on their conversation:

“So did you hear Jerry and his guys are in the hospital right now?”

Huh. Jerry. That name reminds me of that guy whose foot I shot. Probably a coincidence, though.

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, apparently Sunny’s got herself an apprentice now. Some unhinged college student or something like that.”

Oh. Nope. It’s the same Jerry. Well, that’s cool, I guess. Wait. What was that last bit? ‘Unhinged’? Really?

“Dang. Every time it seems someone’s got an upper hand on Sunny, she pulls a trick like that.”

Hello? Where’s my recognition? Oh, whatever. At least I was building up a reputation now.

“Well, now that we’ve stolen this necklace from that snobbish woman, we’ll be swimming in bread.”

Necklace! Snobbish woman! That must mean Hera’s necklace! I have to find a way to sneak around and take it back!”

Right when I took a step back, I kicked back a pebble. Just a little. Measly. Pebble.

“Huh? What was that?” One of the thieves asked. Alerted.

It was always the little things that gave someone away, wasn’t it? If I wasn’t being so literal, that would have been poetic. Instead, it was pathetic.

Great. New objective: run. Hide. Get out of there before you get caught.

But just as I turned around and bolted away, I bumped into someone and fell onto the ground.

The ‘someone’ in question was a big and burly man with a big burlap sack and a black and white shirt along with a black and white pair of pants.

“What do we have here?” He asked, in that big burly voice.

“Ow, me bum,” I winced.

Behind me ran the footsteps of the two who I heard conversing with each other. I turned around and crawled over to face two, no, three men in grey business suits and raybans on (if that was their idea of concealing their identity, it was a terrible fashion choice). One of the three stepped forward and pointed a pistol down at me.

“Say, aren’t you the apprentice of Sunny I’ve heard so much about?” He asked. Presumably, the leader. In spite of him holding a gun, I was more concerned about the guy behind me. That guy could’ve grabbed me and held me in place while the skinny one with the gun shot me down. But the skinny one? Yeah, I could take that dude.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I turned my head and spat on the ground.

“Oh? Acting all tough, are you? You’re surrounded.”

Shit. He’s right.

“Now, tell me what you’re up to and maybe I’ll let you walk away.”

“I came for the necklace,” I relented. At least I growled while doing so. Had to sound tough somehow.

He began to laugh, and the other three joined in.

“So you think just because you’re an apprentice of Sunny, you think you can do whatever you want now?” He still had that gun pointed at me, but I didn’t care. I had to set the record straight (even if the rest of me wasn’t).

“I’m not an apprentice! I’m a bonafide vigilante! You can call me Demisexual!”

They all looked at each other. Confused. Greeeaaaat.

“Demisexual?” The leader asked.

“Look, it’s a work in progress. It’ll catch on.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the necklace, dangled it above my head. All the while, his other hand held onto that pistol.

“This what you wanted? You thought you could play hero for some rich woman who wouldn’t even be able to tell if her necklace was replaced with a counterfeit?”

“Actually,” I corrected. “I thought I could play antihero, but I guess I’m not good at that one, either.”

At first, their expressions were blank stares, but then they burst into laughter. Great. I was the butt of all jokes wherever I went. Well, I figured I may as well make the most of a painful moment and make things even more painful. So while they were all distracted, I reached up and with one hand, grabbed onto his wrist which held his gun, and then I let the stiletto slip out from my sleeve and plunged it right into his arm. The sensation left him screaming and he dropped the necklace.

Damn, I didn’t think it would cut through his skin that deep. For such a small weapon, it sure did its job. Still, I will miss it. To think I had to part with it so soon all because it’s lodged into some guy’s arm.

Now, I had to act fast. No doubt the others also had guns. Not only that, but the big guy behind me tried to grab me, but I jumped out of the way and took off with the necklace in my hands.

As I bolted further into the shipyards, I ran between two warehouse buildings and into an alleyway. There was still gunfire behind me and I was just grateful none of them managed to hit, let alone graze me.

Once in the alleyway, I noticed a wall, and I felt my luck run out. It wouldn’t take them long to find me, as it wasn’t like I ran very far, and I couldn’t just turn around. All I had to my advantage was a dumpster which I could possibly hide inside, but ew. I had standards.

However, I noticed along the wall next to the dumpster, there were little gaps that I might have been able to climb up.

It’s a long shot. I mean, that temple was one thing, but I’m not much of a climber. Still, I’ll take my chances.

So I stashed the necklace into my pocket and began climbing. I thought I would lose my balance several times within the short minute it took, but I held on as tight as I could, even as the marble from the walls scratched against my palms.

One moment later, the gang of thieves ran into the alleyway.

“Where’d she go? I could have sworn she ran in here?”

“Dude, check the dumpster. She may have been crazy enough to hide in there.”

Ha. Glad I didn’t dirty myself up thinking that was a good place to hide.

I poked my head down from the rooftop. Those guys really were looking every which way but up. I slunk back down and pulled the necklace out of my pocket.

The more I examined it, the more pretty I thought of it. The little sapphire beads and the red brooch that lay in the middle. It reminded me of one of those cursed amulets you’d see in movies.

I wonder if Remora would be proud of me. Maybe she’d pat my head and say, “good job.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion setting in, but I continued to stare at the thing. Then, knowing that those guys didn’t find me, it was all so hilarious. I couldn’t help but to laugh as well.

“Hey! She’s up on the roof!” I heard one of them yell.

“Damn it!” I hissed. Right when I thought things were going my way.

“Let’s split up and go around each side. I’ll go inside and climb up to the rooftop. Either way, we’ll get her.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. No!

I ran toward the far end of the rooftop and looked down, behind the alleyway. There was a whole sea of shipping containers strewn about the place, which gave off the appearance of a maze.

They haven’t reached the other side yet. I’ll climb down and lose them in those shipping containers.

Again, long shot. But it worked once, so no reason why it couldn’t work again, right?

Once I went about getting myself down, however, it proved to be a different story; I hung from the ledge of the rooftop and moved my legs about, trying to find a place to prop my foot on. To no avail. My hands began to slip and I fell down.

How come this was easier in the temple?

What I fell onto wasn’t the ground, however. Instead, I found myself in the arms of yet another large muscled man. This one looked like he was a good five hundred pounds. His entire face was covered in hair. Beard, mustache, sideburn, all that. Oh, and he was shirtless.

“Ew! Ew! Let go of me!” I squirmed. He set me down.

“Whoa there! I just saw you were in trouble and figured you could use some help!”

“I was doing just fine! If I wanted to fall off a tall building, that’s my choice!” Seriously. What was up with my luck?

“Say, you’re kinda cute,” he remarked. Even worse. Now I had some guy in his 50s (probably) hitting on me. Totally uncool.

“Sorry. I’m only into strong women. Not strong men. Also I’d prefer if they were my age. And their name started with an ‘R’.”

He lowered his head and smiled. “Ah, I see you are a woman of culture as well.”

“Uh-huh. Culture. Right,” I had no idea what he was talking about. But before I could linger in my confusion, the voices of the thieves rang through my ears.

“It’s her! Get her!”

Actually, maybe this would be a good opportunity to get away from the creepy dude.

“Look, dude. Thanks for not letting me die and all, but I gotta bolt.”

So I slipped into the maze of shipping containers. I knew they’d follow me in there, so I took off the jacket I had been wearing and threw it on one end of the maze while I ran in the other direction.

“She went that way!” I heard them yell. It seemed my idea worked. Soon I would be out of this place and back toward Hera to deliver her necklace. My pace picked up as soon as I saw an opening and the outline of houses came into view. I was so close toward freedom.

– Then gunfire rang through the air. Followed by screams.

I froze in my tracks. I always forgot how loud, how startling that sound could be. I turned around. Of course they weren’t anywhere near me. Yet questions swam through my mind.

“Who shot who?”

“Am I next?”

Those questions repeated with greater intensity as I heard footsteps approach. Next to me, one of the doors to a shipping container was open. I slipped inside and closed the door behind me.

“That’ll teach those thieves,” a familiar husky voice seeped through the air.

No way. That couldn’t be.

“Did you really have to kill them, hun?” That sounded like the shirtless old man. Wait. No. It was all coming together.

“Those guys would’ve tried to kill me if they knew I was trying to take my necklace back. Besides, it’s not hard to dispose of their bodies.”

“Hey hun, been a while, huh?”

“Who all have you been sleeping with now?” Her voice sounded more gruff than earlier. More serious. Almost like Remora’s.

“Uhh…”

“You know our arrangement. You can sleep with whoever you want, so long as the person is also someone I’d be interested in sleeping with. Of course, they’d also have to be okay with us as a group.”

“Oh, no need to worry about that! I’ve found some potential candidates! For sure! I’ve not made any moves yet, though. I wanted you to be there with me!”

It was definitely them. How I wish I could block out their conversation.

“Strange. My tracker says the necklace is nearby, but I haven’t spotted it. I didn’t even spot any of those thieves with it.”

She had a tracker? Really? Was I just used as bait or something? If I held onto the necklace, would I be next? Was there never going to be a reward?

My mind raced, but I thought up an idea; I reached into my pocket and pulled out a phone, then I texted Hera:

Me: I got the necklace! I stashed it away in a container, but I’ll meet you at your place and then we can go back and get it together!

I felt like a fool. There was no way that would work, was there? Well…

“Oh. I got a text. Looks like she hid it somewhere near us.”

“Who?” Zeus (I presume) asked.

“My little helper. Seeing as I caught you holding her in your arms, I take it you already met her. Flirting and everything.”

“You got it wrong! She’s not my type! She’s small! And gay!”

That’s right! I wanted to shout out for joy, but I knew better.

“How deplorable. To think you would stoop so low as to go after someone who wouldn’t be attracted to you.”

“Anyway, should we stay here and keep looking or go home?” He deflected.

“Let’s go home. I’d rather make her show us where she hid it than be out here all night.”

Yes! It worked!

As soon as I heard them walk away, I opened the door and poked my head out just to make sure the coast was clear. Once I was sure it was, I decided to follow through on my end and meet the two there.

I huffed and puffed as I made my way up the stairs. I thought that with all my running, maybe I could’ve made it back to their house before them. I was proven wrong when I opened the door and saw each of them seated in that chair. To be more precise, Hera was sitting in Zeus’ lap. I really wish I could have erased the image from my mind.

“Hey...hey…” I waved while hunched down with my hands on my knees and gasping for breath.

“Drink some water, dear,” Hera suggested.

Did I ever take that water I asked for when I was in that tavern? If not, then I really am a fool, now aren’t I?

“Just...just a sec,” I tried to breathe a little slower.

“So, you retrieved the necklace?” She asked.

“Yeah. Just like I said I would. It was a bit tough. Those thieves really did a number on me, but I –”

“Good. Hand it over.”

“Huh? I can’t do that. I left it back at the shipyard. Just like the text said. We can go there right now and I’ll show you.”

Hera and Zeus looked at each other, and I wished I wasn’t looking at them. Then, Hera looked back at me.

“Come on. You can drop the act,” Hera smiled as if she were about to dig into a meal. “I know it’s in your pocket.”

“What?” I reached into my pocket. So it was. It seemed that in my carelessness, I forgot to leave the necklace behind. Well, the cat was out of the bag. I pulled the necklace out. “How’d you know?”

“There’s a tracking device hidden within the brooch. But you already heard me say as much back at the shipyard, didn’t you?”

I gulped.

Congratulations, Demetria. You played yourself.

“Are you going to kill me now?” My voice grew fearful, desperate. “Is it because of your husband? Or because I lied to you? Or maybe just because I have your necklace and you want it back?”

The two looked at each other yet again. I was expecting laughter. It did seem to be a recurring theme of the night.

You know, now that I think of it, those two remind me a bit of Sunny and Ray. Except less tolerable. If anything, they made me appreciate Sunny and Ray’s presence all that much more.

“Hey hun, isn’t she just adorable?” Hera asked Zeus.

“She is,” Zeus agreed.

This is gross. If you’re going to kill me, just do it without the humiliation.

Hera turned her attention back to me. “Now dear, why would I kill you? We had an arrangement, didn’t we? You would return the necklace, and I would reward you.”

“Yeah, but what about those thieves? You killed them.”

“Yes, because they stole something from me. But you intend to give the necklace back, don’t you?”

“That-” I struggled to find the words. I knew better than to act badass. I had lost the one weapon I managed to purchase. There was nothing in my environment that I could use to my advantage. Still, I already came that far. “That depends: will you kill me once I hand it to you? ‘Cause if you’re going to kill me either way, I’ll just swallow the necklace.”

Hera laughed up a storm. There it was. The laughter I expected at any moment. But I was serious.

“I will not kill you, dear. Promise,” she crooned. I still wasn’t totally convinced.

“Sign a contract, then! Saying that you won’t try to kill me!” I barked.

“Very well.” Hera pulled out some pen and paper out from a drawer in the table where the ashtray lay. I stared at her, and all the while, she scribbled down on the sheet of paper. She stopped to ask me my name.

“Demisexual,” I told her. She shook her head, her crooked smile never waved.

“Come on. We’re all friends here. You can tell me.”

I hesitated.

“Tell you what: I’ll add an addendum to the contract. Stating that whoever you are, I will not use your name to track you down. If your name is such a secret, then you can rest assured that your secret is safe in this home.”

I gulped. “Demetria,” I told her. “Demetria Root.”

“See? Now that wasn’t so hard, Demetria, now was it?” She crooned once more. It really irked me.

She went back to writing down the ‘contract’, then took a picture of it on her phone and texted it to me. It stated: “I, Hera Juneau, hereby declare that I will not make an attempt on one Demetria Root’s life.”

I approached her and set the necklace down on the table. In response, she chuckled.

“Oh, Demetria. It’s adorable how easily trusting you are. If I was less reputable, I wouldn’t have honored such a hastily scribbled contract. I would have shredded it, shot you, then destroyed your phone and disposed of your body.”

“Hey! You said!”

“Relax. I am the type to honor contracts, however they come about. Besides, just as I said, I wasn’t going to kill you.”

Whew. Okay. Maybe I was a little quick to jump to conclusions.

“Not to mention,” she added. “You were fun. It was entertaining watching you run around.”

“Um. Thanks?”

“You may be interested to know, but I used to accept contracts all the time. Back when I was in my prime, I lived as an assassin. Both Zeus and I. That’s how we met, in fact.”

My jaw dropped. “You mean...like, you got paid to kill people? Did you take pleasure in that sort of thing?”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“It wasn’t so much that I enjoyed it, but I was good at what I did and I enjoyed doing my job well.”

“I see.” Yeah. I was still in dangerous territory. “But you quit? You’re done with that life now?” I asked. Naive as ever.

“I wouldn’t say I quit. Those who quit tend to find themselves on the wrong side of a contract. But...in a roundabout way, they laid me off. Technically, I would still be employed by them, except after a certain age, they decided I wasn’t as good as I used to be and stopped offering me contracts. I’ve tried to settle down, but it’s not been easy.”

Huh. I could imagine.

“Oh!” It looked like she had one of those lightbulb moments. “Now that I think of it, I think you have the potential to make a fine assassin, yourself, Demetria.”

I shook my head. “Hell no. I’m not about to kill people for money.”

“That’s a shame. Not to say you would make a fine assassin now, but give it a year, and I’m sure you would. But that’s okay. I don’t want to force a career down the younger generation. Hmm…” She placed her finger on her chin. “Maybe you could have been a janitor.”

“Excuse me?”

She waved her hand away. “That’s just what they’re called. Or were called. Last I heard, they all got wiped out. Seems someone killed them all. Shame, too.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s still custodians around,” I pointed out.

She laughed her villainous laugh. “No, dear. Janitors were like assassins. Called such because they would go around and ‘clean up other people’s messes’. Many of them weren’t even killers. If you had a niche to fill that they could utilize, you could have been among their ranks.”

That actually did sound pretty cool. But it was too bad those people didn’t exist.

“How did one become a ‘janitor’ anyway?” Oh no. I was sucked in.

“If they wanted you to be one, they would come to you and make you one. That’s how they worked. Went across multiple universes searching for their candidates. It really was a doozy, from what I heard.”

Multiple universes? Really? Did anyone really believe that sci-fi nonsense? It was just like that Tony guy I met at Ray’s diner that one time.

“Anyway,” Hera seemed ready to wrap up our deal. Good. So was I. “How would you like your money? As a check? Wired to you?”

Good! She’s still going to stick with that, too! I’ll be rich! But wait...I don’t need to be rich. I just want a cool weapon.

“Actually...I have something else in mind.” After I told her what that something else was, she agreed, and we saw each other off. As glad as I was to get rid of her, I couldn’t help but feel just a little bit excited. After all, I got to fight some guys, and I got to have a weapon for a short while. Oh! And I learned some lore!

It was about a couple days later in which I returned to the diner. I didn’t remember how I acquired a red sweater vest and yet I was wearing one.

“Huh?” I remarked. “Maybe the ferryman put it on me while I was asleep.”

Before I could really take in my surroundings, Tigershark ran up and hugged me.

“Yay! Babysitter!”

I looked down.

“That’s what I am now? Since when?”

Sunny appeared in frame with a big ol’ smile on her face.

“Since you got back! Now that you’re back, I’m going back to the hospital to visit Ray!”

Jeez. I just got back like five minutes or so ago and already Sunny was leaving.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me how it went?”

“Oh yeah! What weapon did you choose?” There we go. Now Sunny was excited.

“It’s a surprise! I don’t have one right now!”

Sunny’s face lowered. Disappointment was written all over.

“But that’s OK! Because I still managed to get something! Hephaestus said he’ll mail it here for me, so I can’t wait to show you when it gets here! He even threw in an extra weapon when I told her Hera got me the money. Though he looked a little scared when I did.”

“Hera?” Sunny tilted her head. “Hephy’s never mentioned anyone named Hera before. Wonder why.”

I shrugged. “Beats me! But yeah! It’ll be great!”

Sunny grinned. “Well, I’m glad you had fun, dear.”

I looked around the diner, but Remora was nowhere to be found. The most likely answer was that she was at the hospital with Ray at the moment, but I hoped to see her all the same. Even if she still wanted me to keep my distance.

I hoped I could tell her all about how my trip to Olympia went. Maybe one of these days.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Starcrossed Losers IV (Josh Wheeler xReader)

A/N: Y/N has trust issues and terrible luck.

Remember to leave feedback!

Words: 2,199

Warnings: Blood, a lot of running, cursing, a lot of gross ig??

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Josh steps inside the store and prepares to put his hand in danger, not without whining and groaning, of course, I can’t blame him, putting your hand down someone’s throat must be disgusting. 

The closest thing I’ve seen to this is that time Alex and I were over at Nathan’s and Alex had to pull a plastic cap out of Nathan’s dog’s mouth. The way his hand smelled that day... ugh, totally would not recommend. We had to rush over to the vet to make sure Patty hadn’t swallowed any more plastic items, it’s like a block away from the mall, so we decided to let Nathan take his dog back home and we stayed here.

-Time for another beautiful flashback, sponsored by the terrible image of Josh searching on a ghoulie’s stomach with his bare hand-

“Don’t ever let me put my hand down a dog’s throat ever again.”

“How often do you think it could happen?”

“Dogs are silly, Y/N, I don’t know,” He shrugs, examining his hand with repulsion.

“If you ask me, I think that was pretty heroic,” I offer.

“Shut up,” He whines.

“For real!”

“You’re only saying that so I don’t feel as gross...”

“I say it cause I think it was a brave move. Patty’s a pitbull, she could’ve eaten your arm,” I giggle.

“Nah, she’s an angel” 

Alex is the angel, but I won’t admit that to his face.

“Will you ever take a compliment without shrugging it off?” I roll my eyes, “I’m trying to say that I admire you, bitch.” Alex laughs at my outburst.

“I only do it so you keep complimenting me, isn’t it working?” He winks at me, and I feel the urgent need to push him towards the passing cars. Or hold his hand. Whatever.

“Sure. Tell you what, let’s go to the mall, I’ll get you icecream and you can look for a bathroom and wash your hand.”

“Yes, please,” He sighs and takes my hand to practically drag me on the direction of the mall. Alright then, I don’t mind at all.

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

Josh got the keys. His hand is covered in something gross and I can’t hide the smirk that’s growing on my face.

“The things we do for love, am I right?” I grin.

“Don’t start, Y/N,” He complains.

“No I mean, fucking respect. Not everyone would do that for their crush.” He shakes his head at my statement, not flattered at all.

“I just wanna find Sam.”

“And I want to get out of here, so let’s go!” I start walking, a new burst of energy going through my veins now that we have the keys.

“I’ll see you around,” He tells Angelica, and I happily wave goodbye while passing.

“Guys!” She says, following us.

“So what’s your plan, then?” Josh looks at me, “You’re leaving too? What about your skates?”

“There’s a store close to my old neighborhood, I’ll get a new pair from there.”

“You can’t wait to leave, huh?”

“Same as you,” I frown, “I’m sure anywhere’s better than with a bunch of weirdos.”

“Hey! Just because you’re not as cool doesn’t mean I’m weird” He replies playfully.

“I don’t think so, mister,” I hold to my backpack tighter, getting ready to go out, “I just need to leave this place, this mall has brought me nothing but trouble...”

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

And I wasn’t talking about Triumph or the Jocks only, I was also thinking about that day with Alex:

“How’s that hand?”

“Still smelling like crap.”

���Too bad. Here, take it. My treat,” I give him the icecream cone I bought moments ago, hoping it’ll make him feel better.

“Jee, thanks, Vinchi.”

I smile at the stupid nickname; it was the invention of a ten-year-old Alex that saw my drawing of a butterfly and thought  I was the next big paintor, “like that guy, ’vinchi”. He meant to say Da Vinci, but the other name was funnier so it’s the one that stuck. You know how you’re supposed to hate silly nicknames? Well, even that was impossible when it came from Alex. I liked him too much. 

I liked everything about him, or slightly related to him. Yet, I managed to keep my distance. Why? Cause you don’t get attached to things you cannot have. Alex was dating our friend Stuart. 

Unrequited love is not something I personally enjoy, so is better to stay away from it. And just like unrequited love, if a bunch of rowdy misfits is running in your direction, you run faster and hide.

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

Angelica has been insisting on staying and forming our own tribe. Fucking crazy, right? You’d have to be out of your mind to try to form a tribe with these people. There’s no way I’m trying that.

“Angelica, maybe next time okay?” I look at her over my shoulder, “seriously you don’t want us on your tribe, we’re very dumb and slow.”

“You know that’s a lie.”

“Still, it’s better this way, you don’t need us.”

“Bye-bye Angelica,” Says Josh while opening the exit door.

You know when things are bound to end in tragedy? You get this feeling that it’s going to be one shit after the other, and you’re right, cause that’s all that’s been happening so why would it change, right? Yeah, well I was so excited about leaving that I forgot this was the case.

The same ghoulie that had run off with Josh’s sword on her back was outside the door, she jumps on him and throws him to the floor, Angelica and I jump back in surprise.

“Get off me now! Shit!” 

“Don’t die!” Angelica runs back to get her molotov bombs (because according to her, fire is the only answer) and I’m left with no weapons to defend us.

“Okay! it’s two against one I can do this!” I try to reach the sword but the ghoulie keeps moving and I don’t wanna hurt Josh by accident, “Hold on, I’m trying to get the sword!”

“Try harder!”

“Shut up, I’m saving your life!” I kick the ghoulie’s hip and she doesn’t budge. Josh seems to be having a hard time and I can’t do much without putting myself in danger as well, the sword is halfway out and is dangerously close to his chest. If I make the wrong move, I’ll kill him.

“Fuck! I need a real weapon, hold on!”

I run like hell until I get to the hardware store and my eyes land on the only thing that I feel capable enough to handle. A sledgehammer. Because judging by my record, I’m pretty good at smashing things. I grab it and run back to where Josh is, lifting the tool at shoulder level.

“Here’s Johnny!” 

I swing it hard and hit the ghoulie’s head with full force, she tries to stand up but Eli appears on the other side of the hall exactly where she landed and pulls the sword from her chest only to put it back, this time in her head. She falls like a puppet on the floor.

“Eli?” Josh seems disoriented, I help him stand up.

“You better be worth it,” He replies, handing him the sword and looking at my hammer with a nod of approval.

We run again until we reach the elevator, we find Wesley there, keeping the door closed.

“I can’t hold it!” He screams.

“Let him in!”

Wesley steps back and the door opens harshly, Triumph stepping in like a nightmare. The guys attack but Triumph easily beats them, I swing my hammer but he traps it mid-air and pulls me towards him. I kick his crotch and he barely groans. It’s not enough.

“Hoyles! Man! This does not need to end up in violence!”

Triumph stops and lets go of me, throwing me into the floor. Eli and Josh both pull me far from him, I grab my hammer tightly.

“Wes!” Josh warns him. Triumph is getting close to the boy and I know that he won’t be able to pull it off alone either, Samurai or not, he’s still a kid.

“AHHHHHHHH!” Crumble jumps from the roof of the elevator and attacks Baron Triumph with her bare hands. He easily pushes her away. Crumble stands up slowly, we’re all expectant, not knowing what the hell to do.

And then Crumble raises her hands and starts speaking in what I’m most certain is nonsense in Spanish, but it does the trick: Triumph backs off until he reaches the elevator and closes the gate. Wesley closes the second gate and supports his back against it.

“What the fuck was that?” Asks Josh.

“I wanted to help you,” whispers Crumble.

“How did you get out of the store?”

“I can turn myself into mist,” She explains excitedly, “and then I float through the cracks. Watch!” Then she proceeds to run straight into the elevator’s door and knocks her lights off.

“Outstanding,” I look over to Angelica, “bet you’re really proud of your Ghoulie witch now.” Angelica just smiles back at me.

So... that happened. Thank god it’s over, now I can finally go. But first, I think I’ll take Josh’s word and go shopping one last time.

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

“Thanks again for the icecream.”

“Anytime, Al,” I smile.

“You ‘going home now?”

“I guess, it doesn’t look like anything interesting is about to happen so...”

“Hey, about what you said...” He scratches the back of his neck, “you really think it was heroic?”

“Patty could’ve died. Of course I do,” I answer with full honesty.

“Thanks... I think you’re very heroic too.”

“What?” I laugh, “Dude, I’ve never done anything out of the ordinary.”

“You call out the jocks on their bullshit even if they annoy you afterwards. When Lily got high and was having a bad trip, it was you who took her to the shower and made her threw it up out of her system,” He puts a hand on my shoulder, applying light pressure to it, “You may not be saving the world, but you take care of your people. That’s cool.”

And maybe it’s the sugar rush, maybe it was the way his words sting on my heart or the way the artificial lights inside the mall made his eyes look so shiny. But my feelings for him went through the roof. Exactly like my common sense.

Whatever it was, all I know is that suddenly we were too close, and suddenly we were kissing outside the icecream shop. It lasted only five seconds though, cause then he tried to cup my face with both hands and the smell of dog’s saliva made me step back in disgust.

“Oh my god, what is that dog eating?”

“I’m sorry!” Alex covers his mouth with both hands and regrets it immediately after, grossed out by the smell, “fuck, I need to put on sanitizer.”

“I have to go,” I mumbled in a hurry, walking towards the exit.

“Wait, Y/N!”

“See you on monday, Alex,” I walk faster, almost crashing against a random boy wearing the ugliest reddish pants on earth, seemingly also running for his life.

Don’t. Just don’t. Whatever you have to say, trust me, I already heard it in my head every night for the past six months. I know it was a shitty thing to do, kiss someone else’s boyfriend. My best friend. Who had been dating my other friend for the past four months.

It doesn’t matter that he kept going. It was wrong. “Y/N, you bitch ass liar, you told us none of you ever made a move!”. Joke’s on you, a kiss is not a move if it doesn’t affect on anything after it happens. A kiss is just a kiss. Mine was a huge mistake for sure, but not a love declaration.

Alex and Stuart kept dating and we never mentioned our incident. Not even after he broke up with Stuart two months before the nuke. Not even when he went with me to look for my sister Katie.

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

So how’s that for a move huh? That’s the reason why I’m leaving. Cause it doesn’t matter if you’ve known them for a day, a semester or ten years. I thought that the people I hung with during Highschool would be my tribe during the apocalypse. That we were inseparable. Turns out we weren’t.

Love is weak compared to personal interests and I refuse to be the only idiot that gets attached. No one is worth that much pain. I’m leaving. Best of wishes to Josh and gang of weirdos but I’m out. I’m backing up. Stepping back. I’m-

“Y/N, come here quick! Stupid Josh cut his finger and now I need to get bandages and duct tape! Make sure he doesn’t faint!”

I’m coming into a halt and drop my backpack and weapon to the floor as I’m rushing over to the restrooms.

“He did WHAT?”

Taglist.

@letsbloodmagic​

[pastelwitchling]

This prompt is courtesy of @spaceskam-also.

In Buffy season 5 I think, Riley says something like "When I'm with her, it's like I'm split in half. Half of me is just on fire, going crazy if I'm not touching her while the other half is so still and peaceful, just perfectly content" and it HIGHKEY feels like something half of malex would say about the other if they were completely wasted, so maybe that could spark a fic idea? (ps your writing is incredible can't wait to read more xx)

***

               It was far past midnight when Isobel finally got the call from Maria that Michael was passed out drunk in her bar, and Isobel had rushed out of her room, barely having managed to put her shoes on, before she was in her car, breaking every speed limit to get to her brother.

               When she got there, Maria had been by the door. Isobel tried not to think that the psychic had been waiting for her, and instead gave her a mere nod as she hurried inside. She was unsurprised to find Max, leaning against the bar beside Michael, his arms crossed as he looked at Michael with what appeared to be an amused smile.

               Isobel glanced at Maria who had been watching her, and – with heated cheeks – turned away and hurried to her brothers’ side.

               “What happened?” she put her hand under Michael’s chin, lifting his head up, her other hand lightly slapping his cheeks as his eyelids lay halfway open. “Why’d you drink so much?”

               Michael groaned, wrapping an arm around Isobel’s waist and pulling her close, his head against her stomach.

               “He proposed to Alex,” Max said, his voice fond. “Did you know he was going to propose?”

               “He proposed?” Isobel blinked. “No, I mean, I –” she looked down at Michael, then put an arm around his head, as if to hug him, but she actually just covered his exposed ear and said, her voice quieter, “he told me something about wanting to marry Alex someday, but I didn’t think he meant –” she broke off with a gasp. “Wait, did Alex say no? Is that why he’s like this?”

               Isobel couldn’t deny she was shocked. After all, she had caught Alex staring at Michael when he had thought no one was looking multiple times, the look in his eyes filled with a kind of fairytale love that she only wished she could experience. Her eyes caught Maria’s and she looked away.

               But no, she thought. Max wouldn’t look as pleased as he did if Alex had said no. Michael would’ve been crushed, and Max hated nothing more than his brother being upset.

               “Mm,” Michael hummed and leaned back, blinking lazily up at his sister. “Isobel! When’d you get here?”

               “You proposed?” she asked, ignoring his question. “When?”

               “Tonight,” he said, and held a glass up which – Isobel could see – Maria had filled with iced water. Michael took a big gulp and hissed as if it burned him, but Isobel supposed he was just too drunk to notice the difference anymore. “I told him I wanted to marry him,” he nodded. “I told him I loved him. I told him I couldn’t and wouldn’t – wouldn’t!” he pointed at Max, though seemed too dizzy to hold his brother’s gaze, “told him I wouldn’t live without him. Because I love him. Because I want to marry him. So I proposed. I asked him if he’d marry me.”

               “And he said no?” Isobel’s eyes were wide, her tone incredulous. She could count on her hand the number of times Michael had said he’d loved anyone, and they were almost always about Alex. She had gotten used to having Michael brush off their emotional moments, to give her a smirk in lieu of a smile, to express his love for her and their brother with a simple touch to the shoulder or arm. But he loved Alex. He loved him like Isobel had admittedly never thought him capable of loving anyone.

               “No,” Max chuckled, rubbing his jaw, “No, he said yes. See?” He reached and tugged up something Michael wore on a chain around his neck. Isobel gasped when she saw that it was a silver band. An engagement ring.

               “No!” Isobel said, a smile starting on her lips. “Really? Michael, this is…” she trailed off, then her face fell. “Wait, then why are you here? Why aren’t you with Alex?”

               “Alex,” Michael muttered, and he took another big gulp of his water. “He’s hot, isn’t he? He’s even hot when he’s sleeping, all rosy-cheeked and soft.” Michael’s shoulders slumped as he lowered his glass from his lips, his voice quieter, “I left. He was asleep, and I left. I didn’t wanna wake him.” Then, as an afterthought, Michael added, “He’s even hotter when he’s awake though.”

               Isobel glanced at Max who shrugged as if to say, ‘You won’t believe it,’ and took a seat on the stool beside Michael’s. “Why’d you leave? Don’t you want to be with Alex?”

               “I want to be with Alex,” Michael said. “I want to be with Alex more than I want to breathe. I want to be with Alex more than I want… I want to be with Alex more than I want anything. Yes, I want to be with Alex.”

               “Then?”

               “Then…” he took a deep breath and said, “I’m no good.”

               Isobel’s brows furrowed and she looked to Maria, but the bartender had held her gaze for all of two seconds before ducking out, giving them their privacy. “What do you mean?” she asked.

               “I only want to marry Alex,” he said. “I want to be with Alex forever. But when he said yes, I realized… I’m screwed up. What if I hurt him? And then I felt guilty for being happy. And I saw him sleeping next to me – naked, of course, he so hot when he’s naked – and I felt… bad. I felt like I was throwing away his chance to be with someone… fixed.” He inhaled a shaky breath and said, “Then I came here and I drank a crap ton of these,” he held up his cup of water, “and I stopped feeling that way.”

               He smiled, but Isobel knew he was lying. His eyes were too puffy, his fingers trembling too much, his looks too dazed and lost and frightened for her to believe that he had fixed his fears with alcohol. It was weird, she partly thought. One thing drinking couldn’t help Michael erase, and that was how much he cared about Alex.

               She opened her mouth to say something, to tell Michael that that just wasn’t true, that Alex didn’t want anybody else, that he would never have said yes if Michael didn’t make him so happy – but the words got caught in her throat as her eyes went to the door, and caught a panting Alex Manes, a coat loosely thrown over his sweatpants and Air Force t-shirt.

               He glanced at Isobel only for a second before he settled on Michael who was too busy gulping down his iced water to notice that anyone else had come in.

               “Is – uh – that why you won’t wear your engagement ring?” Max asked, and Isobel tore her eyes away from Alex to look at her brother who was holding up his phone in answer of Isobel’s silent question. I called him, she could almost hear him say, and knew that her brother was right. Alex should’ve been the first to have been notified, but Isobel supposed Maria had worried about him too much to tell him. What would he think if Michael was here, getting blacked out drunk, the night that they had gotten engaged? Isobel’s eyes fell to something twinkling off Alex’s finger, and realized it was his engagement ring.

               As if hearing her thoughts, Max asked again, “Is that why you don’t wear it, Michael?” He tilted his head, running his fingers through Michael’s curls. Isobel recognized it as something he did whenever Michael had zoned out, and he was patiently trying to get the cowboy’s attention back. “You’re scared if you do, it’ll mean you can’t back out anymore?”

               Michael nodded, making a small noise of agreement in the back of his throat, and Isobel looked to Alex for his reaction. As she might’ve expected, he looked hurt, his brows furrowed while his hand cradled his right, where the ring sat on his ring finger, but he didn’t seem surprised. It was as if he knew Michael might regret the proposal and had been waiting for something to backfire. So Isobel was right. He did love Michael just as much as Michael loved him.

               “How could you say that?” she snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with you, and Alex knows that. How can you think you’re too broken for him?”

               Alex’s frown deepened, confused, and he slowly came to stand behind Michael.

               “Too broken?” Alex asked, but Michael closed his eyes, his cheeks a dark red from all he had had to drink.

               “I hear his voice all the time, I can even hear him now,” Michael said. “Like he’s actually here.” He rubbed his face, as if part of him was trying to sober up. “Imagine if he was. He’d hate me.”

               “No, he wouldn’t,” Max sighed, his smile soft and fond. “You’re worried that you’re somehow going to infect Alex with your flaws, like you’re going to ruin his life, but he doesn’t think of you that way.” Max looked directly at Alex, his look just as fond while Alex’s eyes stayed on Michael. “You’re perfect to him, Michael. He just wants you.”

               Alex took a deep, shaky breath, his eyes glistening as his fingers reached out to softly curl against Michael’s back, and right then, Isobel couldn’t help it. She had always felt a fondness for Alex Manes, but now she felt a love blooming in her chest alongside it for the codebreaker, the man who had spent so long protecting her family, the one who stayed in the shadow of the Manes legacy just to keep Michael safe, the one who had went to war, come back, and seen nothing but beauty in Michael. She put a hand on his arm, hoping he could somehow hear the silent gratitude beating in her heart for him.

               “Me,” Michael scoffed, though with no real venom. His body seemed to ease with Alex’s touch, evening leaning back towards the airman unconsciously as if it recognized him. “What a mess. Me is a raging storm waiting to happen, I can feel it.” He rubbed his face again with one hand, spilling water from the glass in the other. “Every time I’m with him, I just wanna – I just wanna touch him. All the time. I want to feel him, and I feel like I’ll explode if I don’t. And then…” he sighed, his eyes fluttering shut as the corners of his lips quirked upward slightly. “And then, at the same time, I just wanna look at him. It makes me feel better, like I can – I don’t know – like I can breathe better. Like I can breathe.” He shook his head. “What if all that stuff crashes together? What if I end up losing control? What if I – what if I hurt Alex?”

               Alex came closer, ducking his head as a tear rolled down his nose and fell, like a small crystal, a soft smile at his lips that looked so full of love and fondness and admiration and sorrow, and Isobel understood now what Michael meant when he said that Alex was beautiful. The man was like a painting of light, every part of him glowing brighter and warmer and more colorful just for Michael. Isobel saw Max glance at Alex, and back at her, his smile mirroring hers. She could see why her brother didn’t seem as worried about Michael as she had initially been.

               “Hurt Alex,” Max shook his head, his smile widening before he leaned into his brother. “Michael, that tornado inside you, the one you feel is about to tear you apart, but you don’t care – that’s you loving Alex so much that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. You’re not a monster that’s going out of control. You’re just Alex’s.”

               After a moment, Michael shook his head, his lips turned to a soft smile as he stared off into space. “Alex’s. I’ve always been Alex’s. Always.”

               Isobel’s smile widened as well, and she put one hand to Alex’s cheek, wiping his tear away before she sniffed, unhooking Michael’s engagement ring from the chain around his neck. “You’re engaged now. Where do you think this is supposed to go?”

               Without a word, Michael let her slide the ring onto his finger while Max held a tight grip on his wrist, keeping his hand steady.

               When it was done, Max placed a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder. “You shouldn’t have snuck out,” he said jokingly, winking at Alex. “Alex must be really worried by now.”

               “Alex,” Michael hummed, seemingly content with saying his fiancé’s name on his lips, then he blinked. “Alex! I need to – I need to get back to him. I need to tell him I love him.”

               Isobel watched as Alex wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and then wrapped his arms around Michael’s shoulders, his forehead pressed against Michael’s back. As Michael slowly reached a hand up to the ones holding onto him, his brows furrowing in recognition, Isobel leaned her elbow on the table, and sighed.

               “I think he knows.”

***

So sorry this is late, and especially sorry if it deviates a bit (or a lot) from what you were imagining. When I saw the prompt, I immediately saw Michael saying it to Isobel, and I just went with that idea. I really hope you enjoyed reading, regardless, and thank you so much for sending in the prompt ❤

[totaldramafan-lauri]

Dancing With A Stranger (mini songfic)

OK, so, I’ve been planning my next big fic, but it’s been taking some time....I know how I want it to go story and emotion-wise, but thinking about all the details and the worldbuilding is stressing me out right now....I’m probably gonna start writing it next week anyway, and let myself fill in the blanks that way, but it’ll most likely take a while to finish.

In the meantime, have this small thing.

A couple days ago, I was having some pretty bad anxiety. My Discord friends helped cheer me up, and I can’t thank them enough for that, but it also really got me in the mood for something a bit more....wholesome than usual. Sure, there’s the possibility of danger underneath the surface here, because I really can’t resist, but...for my standards, this is really tame.

I wanted something to cheer me up from the low place I was at. Something about letting her taking my mind off of it and making me feel better...but also telling me that I’m not alone, and that she’s there for me. And then I heard the song, and the scenario just.....leant itself to me on a silver platter. XD I’m a lot better now, but I’d thought of this idea yesterday and wanted to get it out there before it left me. So here it is.

My situation isn’t exactly like the reader’s here (I had to change it to fit the song better), but the emotions - many of the worries - are the same. Feeling like I’m annoying everyone, that I’m secretly hated, stuff like that. Also, it’s in first-person to match the song.

---

I don't wanna be alone tonight It's pretty clear that I'm not over you I'm still thinking 'bout the things you do So I don't wanna be alone tonight, alone tonight, alone tonight

I didn't know why I was here. All I knew was that I was thinking with my broken heart, and not with my mind.

The words echoed in my head...over and over..."I'm sorry." "I haven't been feeling it for a while." "I met someone better for me, and I hope you do, too." What a crappy way to break up with someone, on a date night. We'd planned it together, even...I thought he was looking forward to it...so much for that.

Did he meet this other person recently? Or had he been hiding this from me longer? Had he been planning this, or was this a rushed decision? I was still having a hard time believing it...

What did I do wrong? Why did he leave me? Why wouldn't he tell me what I did? I'd tried so hard to please him, every single day...I did everything he wanted me to...If he told me, I would've tried to fix it.

I must've just not been good enough for him...Not good enough...

Every single insult that had ever been thrown at me came to mind. I was boring. Annoying. Needy. Wimpy. Too submissive for even the likes of him. I didn't deserve him. I didn't deserve anyone...

I didn't deserve to be happy...

I wanted so bad to feel wanted, to feel worth something...to feel loved. I thought about telling friends or family about what happened, but I couldn't bring myself to. I'd just bother them. That's all I did, was bother people.

That must've been why I was here, in this club. Because no one here knew me. No one knew how pathetic I was. I could have a quick pick-me-up, a good night, and would start fresh the next day. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

But the bad thoughts wouldn't go away.

Can you light the fire? I need somebody who can take control

Tears had started streaming down my face. The people around me were all talking amongst each other, or dancing to the happy swing music playing, so there were thankfully no eyes on me, but I felt embarrassed with myself, and hid my face in my hands, choking back the sobs in my throat as I tried desperately to calm down.

Even in this crowded place, it still felt like I was all alone with my thoughts.

No one will ever love you. You're pathetic and worthless. Who could want to take care of someone like you? Everyone hates you, they just won't say it. You know it's true.

"Hey...you OK, toots?"

I jumped a bit when I suddenly heard a voice, one that sounded closer than the rest. I uncovered my face and meekly looked up into the eyes of a woman who was looking back at me. She was tall, wearing a dress shirt and black shorts with suspenders. Her long hair was a dark pink, held up in pigtails. Her eyes were soft, a slight smile on her face.

I sniffled, and tried to speak, although I was frazzled. "Me? I'm fine..."

"But you're cryin'..." the woman leaned forward, looking me over. "What's wrong? Did something happen to ya?"

Crying...Oh crap. My hands went to my eyes, trying to rub the tears away. This stranger caught me crying. How embarrassing... "I-it's nothing," I said, "I just..."

I paused, trying to think of something to say, but my mind went blank. How do I even try to cover this up?

"It's OK, you don't gotta say anything," she said, "Only if you wanna."

Her voice was soft and smooth, in an almost soothing kind of way. I didn't expect to meet someone like that at a club. It almost didn't feel real...

She handed me a napkin, which I used to wipe my eyes more. "Thanks..." I muttered.

"No problem, doll," she said softly, "Someone as cute as you shouldn't be cryin'."

Cute? She's joking, right? I thought, And did she just call me "doll"?

Before I could react, she sat down next to me, crossing one leg over the other. Her gentle gaze never left me, and I could feel my heart start to beat faster. "Y-you..." I gulped, "It's OK, you don't have to worry...I'm always like this..."

"Always?" she tilted her head, "Oh no...No wonder ya came here! Here I was wonderin' why someone like you would be at a crazy place like this..."

I looked down at my hands, going silent. I could feel her judging me now. If I hadn't been so weak and started crying, this wouldn't have happened...I hated having to force people to worry about me. Like my ex. I'd always act like this around him, making him worry about me. And my friends, too.

You're such a burden. You keep guilt tripping everyone around you. Stop doing that, you crap. This is why he left you.

"Are you lonely?"

My head shot up in surprise when she spoke again. "Huh? What?"

"Are you lonely?" she repeated.

My eyes widened. "L-lonely...?"

"Do ya want someone to be with ya?" she leaned closer to me, smiling still, "Someone who won't run away?"

She had read me like a book. A soft noise escaped my lips as I instinctively leaned away from her, my heart racing a mile a minute.

"Remember, ya don't have to say anything. I was just wonderin', is all," she gently reminded me.

One of my hands went to my chest, and I gulped down the lump that had been in my throat from crying. I hesitated, before nodding.

I know exactly what I need to do 'Cause I don't wanna be alone tonight, alone tonight, alone tonight

"Poor thing...Did someone hurt ya?"

I nodded again, wordlessly. The memories were so fresh in my head...I felt myself getting close to tears again, and I sniffled, bringing the napkin to my face again...

...I felt her hand on my shoulder. A gentle touch, one that sent shockwaves through my body.

"I'm so sorry...I wasn't there, but I can still tell ya didn't deserve that," she said, "Don't waste your time carin' about people who don't care about you...that's what I always tell myself."

I let her words sink in. I shouldn't care about people who don't care about me? But...what if it's someone I want to care? Is it hopeless to want that?

"Look somewhere else, doll. You'll find someone who'll take ya..."

I didn't know this woman. I didn't even know her name. But I was paying attention to every word she said. I was in so much pain, and here she was, talking to me. I should've been wary of her, but in the moment, I didn't believe she'd hurt me. Was that why I was like this? Because I'd trust anyone who was kind to me?

She turned to the dance floor. "Song's almost over..." she muttered, and then stood up. My eyes followed her, and widened in surprise when she offered a hand to me. "Dance with me?" she asked.

I felt my cheeks flush at that simple question. Dance? She wanted me to dance with her? I opened my mouth to try and speak again. "Ah- I-" I cleared my throat, "Um, th-thanks, but I think I'm better now...You don't have to worry about me...You can go now..."

I knew I wasn't fine. I knew I didn't want her to leave. But at the same time, I was guilty about taking up her time. I had planned on leaving soon, anyway. This had clearly been a bad idea.

She shook her head. "Nope, I'm not leavin' ya here like this. I know what you're feelin', and I know it sucks," she looked me dead in the eye, and spoke in a voice that made a  shiver race down my spine. "I want ya to have fun...Isn't that why you came here? To have fun? To escape all the crap goin' on in your life? Lemme take you away from it...Lemme be your escape~..."

More and more heat rushed to my cheeks with every word that came out of her mouth. I sat there, staring at her, as her hand was still extended to me. She knew how I felt? She really understood? So she wasn't just taking pity on me? I couldn't believe it...It felt like I was unable to move.

"Dance with me, doll...I promise, I won't hurt ya~"

My thoughts were racing. Should I trust her? I wanted so, so badly to...But trusting people had only led to pain. I was a burden to everyone. But right then...I couldn't resist her...

"But I- I can't dance..." I stuttered, "I-I never learned how..."

"That doesn't matter," she assured me, "Just follow me, OK? Let me take care of everything."

The idea of letting someone else take control for a bit, as I focus on nothing but her...Letting all my sadness and heartbreak fade into the background as I do so. It felt too good to pass up.

So, I took her hand.

Look what you made me do I'm with somebody new Oh, baby, baby, I'm dancing with a stranger

Having my hand held in hers...it was almost surreal. It let me know this wasn't a dream.

She led me to the center of the room, where the music was louder. She immediately put her hands on me. I stiffened in nervousness. "Just focus on me," she instructed, "Follow my steps. I'll start slowly for ya..."

I never thought I'd ever do this. But I didn't wanna think about anything else. If my thoughts wandered, I'd end up in that place again. I wanted to leave it behind, and to believe in her. But...swing dancing was clearly not my calling. I did as she said still, copying her movements to the best of my ability.

"There ya go!" she said, "Just like that!"

She started moving faster, and I continued following. Her praise made me happy in a way I didn't know I could have been right then. Her smile turned into a playful smirk as she went...

"You're a bit stiff...Relax a bit, OK~? No one's watchin' us~"

"Yeah...like that. You're gettin' it...Just don't worry 'bout a thing~"

I felt myself slowly melt...

Look what you made me do I'm with somebody new Oh, baby, baby, I'm dancing with a stranger

It was only a matter of time before I stumbled, causing me to lean on her for balance. I squeaked in embarrassment, my face flushing brightly as I backed away. "I-I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

She giggled, though not in a mocking way at all. "It's fine! I told ya, this is just for fun!"

My ex would've made a comment, like "You gotta pay better attention", or something else that would make me feel worse. But she...didn't mind me messing up? And she wasn't uncomfortable with me being so close to her then?

"Ah, yeah..." I tried my best to calm myself down again. However, when I looked back at her, and saw that smirk, I felt like I was going to explode.

"Don't worry about impressin' me, doll~" she said with a small chuckle.

That only made me stiffen even more. What did she just say? Impressing her? Was that...really what I was trying to do? Did I want to impress her?

I stumbled again, causing more giggles. "OK, OK, maybe I'm goin' a lil' bit fast. Want me to slow down again?"

"N-no, it's fine! I-I'll adjust," I said, "It's just for fun...just for fun..."

I didn't wanna admit defeat. Crap, maybe I was trying to impress her...but she didn't mind my screw-ups at all. She didn't expect me to be an expert. She just wanted me to enjoy myself. I kept telling myself this, and slowly, I believed it more and more.

By the next misstep, I was laughing along with her. "Sorry..." I said, still a bit nervous, "I told you, I'm not good at this..."

"But you're gettin' better, and that's what counts~" she said, smiling down at me.

"B-better?" I sputtered, laughing again, "Am I really now?"

"Yeah, you are! You're laughin'! That's what I like to see~"

It took me a second to realize what she meant, and I blushed yet again. So that's the "better" she meant...

She continued swaying with me, humming as she pulled me closer to her. I closed my eyes, everything else around us beginning to fade away in my mind. No more exes, no more heartbreak, no more worries, no more anxieties. Just me, her, and the music.

...And even that began to fade, to give way for the sound of my heartbeat, when she spoke again, softly.

"Y'know, doll...You're so much prettier when ya smile~"

Dancing with a stranger...

[concealeddarkness13]

A New Dawn Part 8

In which Kai and Rat steal, and Kai actually opens up. Tagging my collaborator @ratracechronicler!

Intro

Kai: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

Rat: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

That afternoon, after Motor left for his home, as we returned to the hotel, I stole some more machines to use in my alien shield machine. When we got back to the hotel room, I pulled out the few machines I got and started disassembling them to put the parts I needed into the alien shield machine.

Rat sat down right next to me and leaned close so that her face was a few inches from mine. I still didn’t look up from my machines. She stared at me. “I been thinking…”

“Dangerous,” I muttered.

She smirked. “You’ve been getting sticky fingers. Getting your hands on little trinkets here and there. You’ve got a couple better options for parts. One, we ask Eli’s bro, and he dumps a junkyard on our heads, but that might take time. Two, we go garbage-diving, which my dignity cannot stand right now. Dunno about yours. Three, we go splitting. For those in the crowd new to Tersatellan crime, that means we steal from some residencies.”

Splitting was a cool name for stealing. Residencies on the other hand… “Why don’t you just call them ‘houses’?”

Rat brushed it off. “There’s a difference. I forget what it is. Probably resis are more Plexus-controlled.” Eh. They were still houses. “We are very sensitive about it. Don’t question it. Doesn’t matter. All you need to know is, they’ve got shiny things inside of them that might help with your extracurricular activities here.”

I almost told her what I was working on, but I stopped myself. If she knew I was working on a machine that could protect me from the aliens’ emotion meddling, she might assume that I was planning on going off on my own to find them (which wasn’t the case yet), so she wouldn’t help me. And anyway, it would be nice to steal with someone else again. A smile pulled at my lips. I tinkered with the new machine a little longer, but there wasn’t more that I could do, so I stood up and wiped the grease off on my pants. “What kind of stealing?”

“Maybe some beacons, some junctioners—high-tech stuff. And some blenders or sun lamps if we find anything good. One little four-room nearby I got my eye on. Won’t take long. I got a plan.”

The last time she had an idea, she took me to that party, and I still didn’t understand why that was supposed to be fun. But still, stealing with her should be a lot more fun. “You have a plan. I like the sound of this already.”

Rat grinned and ran off. “Eli! Would it be okay if we dropped you off at the Academy and look around or sign up or whatever you wanna do? It’s girl time—Kai and I are going shopping.”

“I’ll stay behind and sleep, or guard our room.”

I frowned and walked over to where they were talking. It wasn’t fair that Eli wasn’t coming with us. “You’re not coming?”

He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “I’m, ah, not much for the thieving scene myself.”

Rat laughed. “He’s got the moves for it, but he’s too moral.”

I stayed quiet as Rat brought me down to the car and drove off. I had to keep a mental checklist of what I still needed and how it would need to be put together now that I didn’t have my machine to tell me all of it. I should be able to remember what I needed, but I wanted to make sure.

Rat glanced over at me. “He’s also gonna establish an alibi for us. Not that I plan on being so sloppy as to get accused of anything. Now, how’s your search engine?”

“My what?”

“Y’know. That thing in your head, helps you look for electrical stuff.”

I looked around and frowned. Still no machines. “Still inoperative.”

“Lovely. You’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way, then. Sorry. At least there’s not much more my own Reaching can do to you.” She glanced over at me again. “That’s what I call it—my curse thing where I can ID and X-out stuff.”

“Have you…always been able to—” Crap. I shouldn’t be pushing her to talk about something she probably didn’t want to talk about. “I’m sorry if you don’t want to talk about it.”

“It’s fine. The control thing is new. Like, I’ve only been able to do it on purpose for maybe a couple weeks. Or not do it. But, I mean, as far as I can remember, it’s just…happened.” She shook her head with a smile. “Having it under wraps’s gonna help us. Don’t worry about me. Under control. The swoop we’re gonna pull’s called glace noir—I name all my heist plans after drinks. This one’s where we cut a resi’s power and then rob it while everyone’s gone.”

I frowned. How tight was security in these houses? “Why do you have to cut the power if they’ll be gone? Are there defenses?”

“They’re inside to begin with, but—look around while your vision’s clear.” I looked around, but it was all the same houses spaced evenly apart. “We’re in a neighborhood now, see? Low residencies. No windows. Cut the power, and it goes pitch black in there, except sometimes a safety light to guide you to an exit. Plus they’re shut pretty tight, so if you’re not letting in air somehow…they’re not safe without power. It’ll give us a 10-15 minute window to sneak in and have our run of the place before operatives show up to fix the problem. Capiche?”

Ten to fifteen minutes would be plenty of time. “I think so.” I bounced my leg as I stared out the window. This was going to be good. Rat went over a few more details as she parked.

I followed Rat’s lead as we snuck through the dark to get to the house Rat wanted to steal from. When we reached the house, Rat cracked open the door, and I frowned. “It’s not even locked?”

She smiled back at me. “Most residencies aren’t. Welcome to Tersatellus. They trust each other too much here.”

Well, that would be easier back on my planet. I didn’t have time to think too much about that because the lights went off in the house. Someone screamed inside, and Rat pulled me into a shed. When nothing happened, Rat snuck out, and I waited.

“No one really cares about you. You’re just a burden to them.”

I hissed out a breath at the whisper. And I glanced behind me, but of course no one was there. Was I just imagining the voices now?

Rat came back and gestured me forward, and I pushed away the thoughts. Right. I had to focus on stealing. She led me into the house, and I grinned as I panned my flashlight over all the useful stuff. Rat laughed. “We’re in. Alright. These things aren’t entirely soundproof, as you heard, so we can talk, but keep your voice down. From the light around the corner, it looks like they didn’t shut the door, so avoid the living room. Meet me back here in ten minutes, or when you hear someone at the front door. Go.”

I rushed for the kitchen and grabbed what I knew I needed, and then I moved on to the rooms. These guys had so much tech. Why did they need so much? Surely, they wouldn’t miss it.

“You’re weak and pathetic. You can’t do anything on your own. And you won’t be able to protect your friends from us.”

I growled and snatched a necklace. I…I wasn’t useless. I had survived on my own for years. And anyway, I had to focus. I only had a few more minutes. I grabbed one more machine and snuck back to the kitchen.

At least I was there first. When Rat walked in, I forced a grin and pulled out all the stuff I had grabbed. She grinned back. “You made really great work of a quick job, lady. Real—”

Voices. People were coming through the back door. I automatically run for the front door, and Rat is right in front of me. I push all the tech into my pockets as Rat peaked outside. “One guy by the street with his back turned.” She paused. “Follow my lead quick and quiet.”

I nodded, and Rat dashed out of the door. I followed her up onto a box and up to the roof. She smiled over at me, and I smiled back. See, stupid whispers in my head? Rat cares.

She beckoned for me to go to the middle of the roof, and we stayed away from the edges. “All we gotta do is wait til they clear the back area—then we run that way a bit, get lost in the crowd and walk very casually back to the car.”

I eyed her. “If we get caught, we’re no longer friends.”

Rat suppressed a snort. “I shall weep for a thousand and one nights. You know, escaping jail together is also a great bonding experience.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but someone cried out. Rat snuck up to the edge of the roof, and she whispered back at me. “They went inside. We’re loose!” Rat jumped off the roof, and I followed, but I hissed out a breath. How could she do that without wincing? Rat grabbed my hand before I could fully recover, and she dragged me to the car. She jumped into the driver’s seat, and once I was secure, she drove out of the neighborhood, flashing a conspiratorial smile my way. I smiled back, but now that the need to focus was gone, the thoughts returned. Crap. I just tried to keep pushing them away while Rat drove back.

That night, while Rat and Eli were asleep, I held a dim flashlight in my mouth as I worked on the alien shield machine. I wouldn’t be able to make it as quickly as I would have with my machine working, so I had to use all the time I had to finish it. I’d rather it be done before we left Joanndu so it would be ready for whatever came with the next city we headed for.

 I woke up with the machine on the bed in front of me and the flashlight on the floor still on. Rat was standing over me, frowning. I blinked a few times and sat up.

She huffed. “You stayed up all night working on that machine?”

“Clearly not,” I mumbled. “Or I would still be awake.”

Eli laughed from the next room, and Rat rolled her eyes. “Well, I have some parties we’re going to go to today, but you can work on it until then. There’s not one I want to go to for a few hours, so you can get going.” She walked to the other room where Eli was, and I grabbed the flashlight, turned it off, and put it on the table next to my bed. I got started disassembling some more of the stolen machines as they started talking in the other room.

“I’ve got some stuff to do, so would you be okay hanging out with Kai while I’m gone?” Eli must have nodded because Rat spoke again. “Thanks. It’s nothing to be worried about. I’ll be fine.”

They talked more quietly, enough that I couldn’t tell what they were saying anymore. But that was interesting. Rat also had things she would rather do alone.

Rat left shortly after her conversation with Eli, and when he was done getting ready, he sat on the bed next to mine and stared at me as I kept disassembling the machines. I couldn’t work as fast as I normally could, and that was annoying.

Eli leaned forward. “So, what are you working on?”

I hesitated. Would it be okay to tell him? Would he want to stop me because I was working on a machine to help against the aliens? But he just seemed curious, and he was nice. Hopefully, he wouldn’t stop me. “You remember how Tila had some kind of perimeter around her that caused anyone in it to lose their emotions and just feel calm?” He nodded. “Well, I came up with a machine that can combat it. It won’t be able to completely negate the effects of the emotion stealing, but it will help a lot.”

Eli grinned. “That’s amazing! But…how will you be able to make it now that you don’t have that machine working?”

“I planned it out before it stopped working, so I just have to make sure I remember what I need and how to make it. And I still understand machines even when my machine is not working.”

“Wow. That’s amazing. We’ve really got to let you meet my brother. The only problem is I don’t know if we’ll be able to pull you away from him.” He laughed, and a small smile pulled at my lips. He was just so sincere.

I was not used to talking while I was working, but since he was here… “So, what was this extermination you were talking about yesterday?”

He laughed. “Oh, that. Remember the death trap race I mentioned on our last day in Pike? Well, that was the extermination. It’s meant to take all the worst criminals and reform them into “upstanding members of society”. Needless to say, it didn’t work the way it was supposed to. But I joined because I heard that anyone who was participating was in even greater danger than they were supposed to be, so I joined to protect them and get all of them out alive, if I could.”

“Did it work?”

He nodded. “Actually, it did. There were so many times when I thought we were all going to die, but we somehow made it all out alive.

“There were so many times when I thought we were all going to die, but we somehow made it all out alive. On the very first night, we got stranded on a condemned island, and we found out there are these creatures about two or three meters high with sharp claws and rotating teeth and a huge sticky tongue hanging out the backs of their heads that they’d invert out through their mouths to catch prey.” That sounded terrifying. “They, uh, liked iron, I guess, so whenever anyone got cut, they’d swarm. They didn’t know what to make of me.” He frowned at that. “They like iron but hate electricity. It’s weird. We had to deal with them the entire extermination. We called them leeches.

“They crashed our party the second night—it didn’t go well, but I remember that a lot of it was sort of fun, running after them with swords. That was when I learned that Rat enjoys parties and will wear dresses just as readily as pants and hoodies.” Couldn’t relate to that. “She’s very…well, anyway.” He flushed bright red, and I had to force myself to not say a sarcastic comment. He was too nice to make a sarcastic comment yet.

He continued after he finally stopped blushing. “I think it was…the fourth day that we found the…I guess you’d call her the mother of all leeches? Dismater. Like a mega-leech that controlled the entire sea’s version of the Plexus. She could shapeshift, too—pretend to be Rat’s sister just to mess with us. That was a tough day. Well, they all were. Dismater wanted us dead because she thought that’s what Tersatellus wanted. And her leeches would try to steal us and drag us somewhere—we lost Voxel on the second day and Spike on the third. Obviously, they lived, but it was…difficult.”

Rat returned while he was telling me the last story, and she smiled and sat down beside him. She leaned against him, and he flushed as he finished it up. And I was able to finish the alien shield machine as he finished as well. When he was done talking, I held it up to examine it and make sure it was actually functional.

Eli stared at it. “Is it finished?”

“No, I’m just holding it up in front of my face because I don’t know what else to do with it.”

Eli actually looked concerned. “Is…is that sarcasm?”

I nodded as Rat snorted. “Congrats. What’s this machine of yours do?”

Eli grinned and spoke up before I could. “She’s making something that will mostly protect us from the aliens’ powers that can make us not feel any emotions except peace. Isn’t that cool?”

“Huh.” Rat eyed me, and I held the machine tighter. I wasn’t going to let her destroy it just to make sure that I didn’t run off. “Well, I’ve never felt that, but I’ll take your word on it. Hopefully, you’re not making it to run off after those jellyfish alone.” I shook my head. At least not yet. She clapped her hands and smiled. “You two better be ready. We need to leave soon for the parties!”

Crap. I hadn’t even changed or anything. I ran off, but I could hear Eli and Rat talking quietly as I left. Were they keeping something from me? What was going on?

 The party we first went to was as loud and crowded as the one in Pike, but there were some differences. Everyone, besides us, was dressed in some kind of ridiculous outfit. Rat had told us it was called fashion in Joanndu. Also, there was a dance performance happening on a stage while everyone else danced on the floor below the stage.

While Rat and Eli danced with the crowd, I slipped through it to get to a place where I could see the performance. It was amazing. I watched it for a while before I heard a whisper in my ear. “Don’t take your eyes off your so-called friends. We’re always watching.” I stiffened. Crap.

I pushed back through the crowd, but Rat and Eli weren’t where I had left them. I searched everywhere, brushing past so many oblivious people, until I found them sitting at a table eating food. I relaxed and collapsed into the seat next to them. At least they were fine.

Rat frowned at me. “What’s with the expression? We realized you were interested in watching the performance, so we knew where you were. We weren’t going to leave you, if that’s what you were worried about.”

I just shook my head. “It’s nothing.” I stayed close to them for the rest of the party, though. But there were no problems. We left and headed to the next party.

This one wasn’t so much a party as it was a play. I glanced over at Rat. “I thought you wanted to go to a party.”

She shook her head with a smile. “Rude. This is actually the premiere of this play. You wouldn’t believe how hard it was to secure us tickets to this.”

“Or you just stole them.”

“Even ruder to insinuate that an upstanding citizen like me would ever steal for my own personal gain.”

We shared a smile before the play started, and I turned my attention to that. I had never actually been to a play before, so that helped push away the worries about the aliens. It was a wonderful play, all about righteous heroes and evil villains.

When the play was over, Rat pulled us to a few more parties. They were enjoyable enough, but I was dragging my feet when we were done. The sun was barely even setting, and all I wanted was to go back to the hotel and fall asleep.

While we were walking, Rat and Eli talked about how much fun the parties were. I smiled at them, but I was too tired to contribute to the conversation. Then, of course, someone had to whisper in my ear.

“Oh dear child, we know where you are. And we know where you’re going. You won’t ever be safe from us, and if you continue on this path, everyone close to you will get hurt.”

I didn’t even try to look around this time. I knew I wouldn’t see anyone. But still, I tensed. That had been Tila’s voice. Was she here? Either way, I was so tired of hearing voices. I had the machine ready. If I could find the aliens and stop them now, would Rat and Eli be safe?

We returned to the hotel room, and I grabbed my machine as Rat and Eli kept chatting. But I had to at least tell them before running off.

I didn’t look them in the eyes. I knew they wouldn’t like this, but I couldn’t stand it any longer. “I’m going to go do something. I’ll be back.”

Rat snorted as I tried to walk off, and she grabbed my arm. I stopped, but I didn’t turn back to look at her. “Whoa. What are you doing? You’re not going anywhere by yourself. Especially not with that machine. You’re planning on finding those jellyfish, aren’t you?”

“I need to.”

Eli walked up so he was standing beside her as she laughed. “Need to get yourself captured or killed? That sounds like a great idea.”

Eli frowned. “Just tell us what’s been going on. It’s okay. Why are you so jumpy about this?”

I shook my head. If I told them, if I involved them, they would just get hurt. “I…I can’t.”

Rat’s hand tightened around my arm. “And why the hell not? I’m not going to lose you to those stupid jellyfish just because you think you’re invincible! It doesn’t work like that! You’re just going to do exactly what they want!”

Why, why couldn’t they just understand? “Because I don’t want you to get hurt! Because I know it’s a stupid plan, but I can’t stand their whispers in my head, their threats against you! I hate being the reason you’re in danger! I can’t let this continue!”

Rat frowned and pulled me back toward the beds, and I didn’t fight her. She had me sit on one bed, and they both sat on the other. She leaned forward and stared at me. “Okay. Tell us what’s going on here. You’ve been jumpy for a while. I know that what happened with Motor would make you nervous, but this has been happening even before that.”

I bowed my head. I wouldn’t be able to brush it off this time. “I’ve been hearing the aliens whispering in my ears since Pike. They’ve been telling me that I’m alone, and that anyone who is close to me will be hurt. I especially hear it when I’m actually feeling comfortable and happy. They’re doing this because of me, so I want to be the one to stop them.”

Rat looked over at Eli. “Well, screw them then.”

Eli shook his head and watched me with concern in his eyes. “Don’t you see that that’s what they want? They want to get you alone. That’s probably their plan. Please don’t go after them, especially alone.”

I frowned and actually looked at them. “But—”

Rat scoffed. “You think we’re scared of a few stupid jellyfish? Didn’t you hear the stories Eli was telling you about the extermination? We’ve survived plenty of things we shouldn’t have. Anyway, as I’ve already said, you’re my gangster, so I don’t care what you’re bringing after us. That’s just what happens.” She sighed. “Tell you what, let’s just leave the situation now, and if there’s any evidence of them in Fre Jac-Mac, we’ll deal with it then.”

I frowned. I’d rather finish this now, but she had a point. They probably wanted me to pursue them now. “Fine.”

Eli grinned, and Rat nodded. “Good. Now, let’s get some sleep. I want to be on the road for Fre Jac-Mac early in the morning.”