#here you go my sick boba ball (tris)

[simleez]

Jake on MusicCore231118

[vagrantblvrd]

Much as I love Luke making Din’s life nothing but Suffering via Jedi antics and various Jedi-related shenanigans?

Din doing the same to Luke and not realizing it?

Like.

Grogu’s SOS, and then Luke is like !!! and immediately answers the Jedi Signal?

Absolutely has Adventures along the way because he’s a Skywalker and it’s just what they do.

And when he finally catches up to bby!Jedi-to-be and his Dad, they’re on an Imperial ship and there are so many - so many - Dark Troopers and it’s all just so inconvenient.

(Also, I love the idea of Grogu sending Luke a >:((((( as his mental impression of Din and Luke just like ??? back because what, what does that even mean???)

And then!

The whole Dramatic and Angsty scene where Din gives Grogu into Luke’s safekeeping and you know - you know - Luke just assumes Din has business to clear up first, right?

Because dead troopers and not-dead Mandalorians and various assorted type, and anyway, he’ll just take Grogu to wait in the hangar, so do what you have to and they can talk details later?

But then Din just...doesn’t show up???

Like.

An hour’s gone by and not a peep, and Luke is just. Awkward idiot making small-talk with the bby!Jedi-to be and realizes that oh, no, not only is Grogu’s dad unfairly hot, he’s also an idiot.

(Leia was right, they do have a type.)

Luke sighs, ignores Artoo laughing his black little droid heart heart sick, and retraces his steps back to Din and the others.

Din is just “...” at him because noble-hearted idiot who loves his tiny green gremlin so much the Force sings with it, and Grogu is chewing on the hood of Luke’s cloak, and everyone is staring???

“Uh,” Luke says, and has to clear his throat, because awkward idiot and also farm boy and this Jedi business still doesn’t sit quite right in situations like this. “So, uh. I feel there’s been a misunderstanding. Between us. About Grogu.”

Luke clamps his mouth shut lest he continue babbling and gently pulls his hood out of Grogu’s mouth, corner of his mouth twitching when Grogu makes an indignant noise and reaches out his tiny, tiny hands to reclaim it from him.

Looks up, and realizes everyone is still staring, that there’s something vulnerable in the way Din’s standing and - he isn’t panicking, no, no.

(Unbecoming of a Jedi Knight, and also not helpful, just. Yes.)

Cara decides to put Luke and Din out of their misery, looks at Fennec and asks if it would out of the question to let Din take a ship - fighter or shuttle, something - seeing as how Luke’s X-Wing is one-seater and that’s when Din seems to shake himself out of whatever daze he’s in.

“...what?”

Luke looks to Cara who shrugs, crossing her arms and giving him a look that tells him it’s his mess now, best do a good job of it. (Jedi or not, she’ll find a way to make him regret it if he doesn’t.)

And then Luke is just, “Did you not want to come with us?”

Din being “...” and once Luke’s words, his offer, registers, “!!!” and off they go to get him a ship to follow Luke and Grogu to wherever Luke’s set up his school/hermit cabin, and then, idk.

Shenanigans?

Because Din has the Darksaber and while he’s not all that interested in the damn thing, other people sure as hell are, and after the first time someone goes after Din to win it while they’re gallivanting about, well.

“Okay, so lessons,” Luke says, trying not to let it show that he’s a teensy bit rattled as he help patch Din’s wounds.

Din’s armor protected him from the worst of it, of course it did, but he’s still hurt and far too quiet - thinking thoughts of being more of a danger to Grogu, Luke, because of the damned Darksaber and maybe it would be best if he left -

“What?”

Luke looks up, looks hard at Din.

He’s learned to read his body language over time, interpret what the slightest tilt of his head means, gauge his mood from the line of his shoulders and quiet sighs Luke isn’t meant to hear but does anyway.

The way his hands are balled into loose fists in his lap, face angled away from Luke, from Grogu.

Noble-hearted idiot, and Leia must be laughing even now.

“Lessons,” Luke says, emphasis heavy, “because you’re worse than I was when I picked up my first lightsaber and that’s saying something.”

Din’s staring at him now, Luke scowling as he turns his focus to seeing to Din’s wounds, plans unfolding in the back of his mind because Din and that damned Darksaber and he knows this one attack won’t be last of it (it never is with things like this) so better to see him prepared for the next time, and the one after that.

Grogu makes a sad little noise, and Din looks over at him as his kid toddles over, container of bacta too-big in his hands and sighs, because there’s a look in the kid’s eye he knows better than to argue with.

Catches Luke’s hands in his when Luke tries to pull away and sighs.

“Alright,” he says, sweeps his thumb over the back of Luke’s hand, soothing, grounding. “Okay.”

Luke looks up then, strain around his eyes and mouth tight as he nods, and it’s.

Better, it’s better.

...at least until the lessons actually start, at which point the ridiculous amounts of mutual pining come into play and all kinds of shenanigans until it gets to be too much and then there’s  a smooch, an painfully awkward confessions of love and Leia laughing herself sick with a sour-faced Han who lost the betting pool and what do you mean there was a betting pool and I’ve lost the thread here, but, uh.

Yeah.

(But also, Boba Fett and Luke being !!! because why him, and Dim being ??? and “Do you two know each other?” and Luke looking at Din, all you’re so lucky you’re pretty, completely aware what a hypocrite that makes him, but whatever, because Boba Fett.)

[starlightrows]

Something Sweet

Chapter 2 - Scoops and Scones

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Series Masterlist

Pairing: Modern!Paz Vizsla x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: None!

Summary: You are welcomed with open arms into the group Paz told you about, and feelings start to bloom as the spring turns to summer!

On Tuesday you make sure to wear something kind of cute that you can wear to meet everyone after work. You want to make a good first impression, but also not be overdressed. You’re excited and a little nervous all day, the steady stream of customers keeps you busy. Springtime is a great time of year for business because lots of people have birthdays and anniversaries, lots of weddings too!

Just after 7 pm the door to the shop opens, and the bell above the door chimes. Paz steps in and marvels at how you have the shop decorated.

“Did you do all of this yourself?” he asks

“Yeah!” you reply, delighted in his interest “I love a good project, and I’ve been planning how I wanted this to look my whole life”

“Well it looks incredible, you did a great job!” he says

You blush a little and smile “Thank you”

You finish closing out the register for the day, make sure all of the lights in the back room are turned out and the heating is turned down before stepping out with Paz and locking up. He walks beside you, leading you a ways down the street towards the bar his friend Boba owns. Paz pushes open the door for you, and you see a group of people laughing and chatting sitting at a big round table.

Everyone looks up from the conversation and enthusiastically welcomes you and Paz in. They all stand up coming to introduce themselves and shake your hand. Of course you’ve already met Din. Boba owns the bar and hosts these Tuesday night hang outs, he’s a slightly older man with a bald head and a firm handshake but he’s quite welcoming. His business partner Fennec, a pretty woman with sharp features and a kind smile. Cara, who owns the boxing studio on the opposite side of the street. And Peli, a short firecracker of a woman with curly brown hair, owns the auto parts and maintenance shop around the corner.

They already have a place set for you at their table and start filling you in on all of the goings on in this city and their little group. Boba gets you a beer, and insists friends don’t pay. They tell you about the locals who come around to their various businesses, events happening at the clubs and bars a little further into the downtown area, they recommend restaurants you have to try, and ask you all kinds of questions. Where you’re from? What brought you out here? How did you get into botanicals? You answer their questions, laugh with them, talk with them and have a great time.

Then the conversation takes a bit of a turn… “That guy came back?” Cara says with an annoyed tone. The group groans, and hums with disapproval.

“What guy?” you ask, not wanting to pry if it’s a sensitive topic but she also said it in front of everyone so you figured it would be a fair question.

“Gideon” Cara spits

“He’s a high and mighty investor with a silver spoon in his ass that’s been bothering everyone that works on this street and next couple blocks,” Fennec explained “He’s trying to convince everyone that lives and works around here that we should sell out our businesses to him,”

“Why?” you ask indignantly

“He’s got this idea of turning the whole downtown area into a high end shopping and restaurant district,” Paz says “Which would be fine if this was a really big city with people that could afford to go to places like that every weekend. But this isn’t that type of city, and not the right kind of community for that,”

“Hmm” you sip your beer “sounds to me like he wants to change the city itself. Push out the locals and turn this into a major city” you say

“That’s exactly what he wants” Boba comments “that and to make tons of money”

“But he hasn’t been able to convince a single business owner around here to budge” Peli tells you “All of us are here because we want to be here. We worked hard to get to where we are and maintain our businesses. We’re not about to sell out to a sleaze like him”

“He wasn’t happy when the people I inherited by storefront from sold to me instead of him” Paz admits “and he’s probably pissed you got yours on the open market before him”

“So that means he’ll probably come around at some point and try to talk me into selling” you conclude

“Probably” Paz says darkly. He doesn’t like the idea of Gideon hanging around your shop… talking to you… trying to intimidate or manipulate you into selling out your shop to him.

“Don’t worry you guys” you assure the group “I worked too long, and too hard to hand over my dream to an asshole like that”

“Atta girl!” Cara claps your back and the group gives you a cheer of approval.

The conversation turns back to casual chatter. The group splits up so some people can play a couple rounds of pool and others can still sit and chat. You have an amazing time, it’s been so long since you actually got to hang out and have fun. You could see yourself coming to these group hang outs every week and becoming close with everyone in the group.

Eventually the night does come to an end. Din has to get home to his son and his girlfriend. Paz needs to get home and go to bed so he can be up early to get the bread in the ovens in time so they’ll be ready for customers in the morning. And you need to be getting home as well, there’s a big delivery arriving tomorrow morning and you need to be at the shop earlier than usual to receive.

You bid everyone goodnight and promise them that you’ll be back next week to hang out again. Paz walks with you out to your car.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight” you say

“Told you, you’d fit right in!” he grins

“Mind if I come by tomorrow morning for one of those amazing breakfast sandwiches?” you ask him, as you reach your car “I’ll bring you a cup of coffee”

“It’s a deal!” he says smiling at you

There is something in the air… you don’t want to leave… he’s so kind and so attractive… but no, you steal yourself and get into your car. Pulling out of the parking lot with a gentle wave. Paz felt it too… damn he wanted to kiss you. But he literally just met you a few days ago… no matter… he’d see you in the morning.

———

The next few weeks go by, spring turns into summer. You continue hanging out with the group on Tuesday nights, they teach you to play some card games you’ve never heard of and you try fun and interesting cocktails Fennec invents. No matter what you always land up laughing and having a wonderful time. Paz has been teaching you to shoot pool, and walks with you every week to join the group. Your little crush on him is growing, and people are starting to notice.

“You like him,” Cara points out. You’re sitting at the table with all of the girls playing cards while the guys are shooting pool.

“Who?” You try to sound nonchalant

“Paz” Fennec chimes in

“He’s my friend!” You try to defend yourself

“Yeah,” Peli says “but you like him”

“Okay…. so maybe I’m attracted to him, so what? He’s my friend and he brought me into the group, I don’t wanna mess that up” you explain

“He likes you too” Cara says, placing down her cards and effectively winning the round. Everyone around the table groans and slides over game chips to Cara.

Over at the pool table the guys are having a somewhat similar conversation.

“Sorry to hear about your diagnosis, pal” Din says while lining up his shot.

“What?” Paz looks over to Boba thinking their friend was actually sick. Boba is eyeing him with a quirked brow and a smirk.

“Lovesick” Boba shakes his head while Din takes his shot “incurable and terminal… damn shame”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Paz moves around the table to get a better view of the ball placements

“You” Din says with a laugh “swooning over Miss Flowers over there”

Paz gets distracted and completely misses his shot. His head whips around to look at you. Giggling and talking with the others. He looks back to his friends, and shakes his head.

Paz stands back up and rubs the back on his neck, Din’s not wrong, he’s got it bad for you. “You think she’d go for a guy like me?” Paz asked them

Boba and Din rolled their eyes, “You’ve lost your touch Vizsla” Din says “she hangs on your every word. Yes she would go for you”

Still at the end of the night Paz walks you to your car, just like always, and says goodnight without asking you to hang out one on one.

Another week or two passes just the same as always. Hanging out on Tuesday’s, stopping into the bakery to pick up some bread every now and then, seeing each other in passing with a smile and wave.

One Tuesday evening Paz is hanging out in your shop while you close, like usual when both of your phones ting with the sound of a text message. It’s Boba saying he had to close the bar for the night and he wouldn’t be able to host the group tonight. Apparently it’s not an emergency or anything, he just had to leave town to go “take care of something”

“Well that’s ominous” you joke

“Boba’s an odd guy” Paz laughs “he’s got a history, but he changes the story every time you ask him”

You shake your head and laugh, agreeing that Boba quite the character. “Well… I haven’t had a free Tuesday night in months” you joke

“Well since I know you’re free right now” Paz says, working up a bit of courage “wanna go get ice cream or something?”

“Oooh yes!” You say excitedly “Have you been to that place that makes the fancy rolled ice creams down on 10th?”

God he’s so relieved you said yes…. “Yeah, it’s really good”

The two of you chat and laugh as you walk from your storefront down a couple blocks to reach the ice cream place. You both order fun and pretty rolled ice creams and sit at one of the outdoor tables, enjoying the warm evening and each other’s company.

“See now that I’ve got everything up and running, I really want to start trying to make pastries to sell at the shop” he tells you

“Have you tried anything yet?” You ask

“Well I tried making chocolate croissants from scratch but apparently they are ridiculously hard to get right” he laughs “so I’m looking for simpler things to start with”

You laugh with him, and agree chocolate croissants are deceptively difficult to make correctly. “What about scones?” You ask

“Scone? Like those British cookies?” He asks

“Well sort of, they’re more like blank canvas bread” you explain “because the base is so simple and basic you can jazz them up anyway you want. Sweet, savory, fruity, chocolate… I even like doing meat and cheese scones”

“That’s actually not a bad idea” Paz says thoughtfully “You got any good recipes I can steal to work off of?”

“I do actually. Old family secret” you say mischievously “but lucky for you, the old family is not here to curse me for leaking the secret” He laughs and shakes his head.

“I could teach you sometime” you offer, having a moment of bravery “I mean, they’re not difficult to make or anything, but I… uh… I thought it could be fun”

“No no” he says quickly “that would be great if you could teach me. Are you free this weekend?”

Your cheeks heat up a bit and you smile “Yeah, I’m free this weekend”

“Come over on Saturday evening?” He asks “I’ll cook you dinner as a thank you?”

“Yeah, that'd be great”

———

Saturday can’t come soon enough… you flip back and forth in your head between this being a “real date” or not… you thought about texting the girls but decided against it.

On Saturday you wear something cute but comfortable, something you don’t mind getting dirty from baking but presentable in case this actually is a date. You pick up a nice bottle of wine on the way over to his apartment.

At the door he greets you with a hug and thanks you for the wine, welcoming you inside. His apartment is nice, well decorated and clean. Better most men’s apartments you’ve seen in your day. It looks like he’s got his shit together.

“Dinner is almost done,” he says. You look around to see that he doesn’t exactly have a dining table, the space isn’t quite set up for it. But he does have a peninsula that functions as a dining table. It’s already laid out with plates and cutlery, with a small sweet smelling candle in the middle.

“A baker and a chef” you laugh as both of you start in on the beautiful chicken parmesan he made.

“I wasn’t always” he says with bit of a bashful smile “Just a few years ago I was exclusively a boxed Mac n cheese and canned peas for dinner kinda guy”

“That’s a pretty drastic change, what prompted that?” you ask, enjoying your dinner just as much as the conversation.

“Moving out here actually,” he says “I used to live back east in the big city… had a shoe box of an apartment with no real kitchen and a dead end job… not a lot of motivation to cook. Coming out here, changed my life for the better”

You sip your wine and listen, as he describes what it was like living in the city and commuting for six hours every day, and his life changing trip out here to visit Din.

“It was actually my dream to move here when I was a kid” you tell him “I’m from a tiny little town way up north, and everyone used to talk about this place like it was the big city ya know”

“So what prompted your big move here?” He asks

“Well I’ve been saving up to open my shop for years, and working really hard to make this dream come true… but I woke up one morning and felt it in my bones that I needed to search the property website again…. and I am so glad I listened to my gut because I got my storefront pretty much the minute it got posted”

“Man.. luck was really on your side that day huh?” He finished his plate, and sips his wine

“Oh yeah, count my lucky stars every day!”

Paz wipes his mouth on his napkin, seeing you’re just about finished eating as well, and begins clearing the table. You help him wash up, despite his protests.

“Come on chef, if we’re gonna make scones we have to have a clean work station right?”

He agrees and the two of you get the workspace all cleaned up, just to mess it all up again with flour and butter and toppings!

They don’t actually take that long to bake, but you’re both a little flour dusted while you teach him to make a simple glaze for the citrus orange flavored batch.

When the scones come out of the oven the sweet batches get glazed or sugared, and the savory batches just need to cool. You ask to use his restroom to freshen up a bit so you wouldn’t get flour or butter on his nice couch, while you wait for the scones to cool to do a taste test.

To your delight, his bathroom is clean. And not just… cleaned up like there’s no clutter on the counter. Actual hand soap that’s appears to be regularly used, a liner in the trash can, more than just a five in one shampoo/body wash in the shower, and the mirror is clean! Either Paz deep cleaned in anticipation for your… not exactly a date?.... or he has his shit together… or, more likely both!

You spend the rest of the evening laughing, talking, sampling the scones, writing down flavor ideas together, and yeah definitely flirting. Somehow you get on the topic of music.

“Oh yeah, the city does free concerts in the park on Friday nights” he tells you “you bring a fold up chair and some snacks, and get to listen to free live music!”

“That sounds so fun! This city really knows how to do community events!” You put down your pen, having just finished writing down an idea.

“It’s amazing, you would love it” he says “would you want to go? With me?”

Your heart skips a beat “Yeah” you say softly with a smile “Yeah, that sounds like fun”

Featured Recipe: Simple Scones

Tag List: @gallowsjoker @simping-for-clones @mxndoscyarika @hayley-the-comet @blackmarketmummy

[rosesanthology]

Not as Bad as i thought | Matsukawa Issei x reader

Okay so i've been thinking about this scenario for a WHILE now and im,,,,,not mad at how it turned out ? Lmao y'all see for yourselves

- songs :  • savage remix by Megan Thee Stallion feat Beyonce

                 • kimi no nawa theme song

- weather association au : dusk (i dont even know if that's seen as a weather but oh well-)

[Tags] : @raevaioli asked sooooo👀 @haikoo

- you weren't really sure how long you've been walking for

- you tried to recall the events from today with much difficulty as you strolled on the sideway at 4pm, still in school uniform but much messier than when you first got out of the house this morning, backpack lazily thrown over your left shoulder

- "and there goes a perfectly good weekend" you sighed, not talking to anyone in particular but yourself or maybe the occasional stray cat

- your house wasn't even close to the way you were going and you couldn't care less

- your phone had data anyway you could just search your way back in google maps (｀ε´)

- plus it's not like you walked across the whole country and you already called your mom to make up some excuse

- "we'll talk when you get back." She had told you over the phone , you were pretty sure that the school had informed her of what happened

- thinking about it made you sick to your stomach so you opted on just focusing on how much of an anime MC vibe you were giving off right now instead !!!

- i mean, basically running away after school to go on unplanned walks with a messy uniform while listening to the new savage remix by Megan and Beyonce ???? Pretty badass ngl (◡︿◡✿)

- if only your balance wasn't -2/10 then maybe you could even skateboard and act like you were in an indie movie

- but back to the matter at hand

- the anger swelled up inside you as you started to think over what had happened

- you were in the midst of a chemistry class and you had been paired up with none other than your toxic ex who made you feel like crap for the most random stuff

- you were literally just vibing trying to adjust the microscope and he just HAD to shove you out of the way because, allegedly, you "didn't know how to do it", causing you to back into another girl's test tubes and bunsen burner !!!

- WORSE IS THAT THAT GIRL STARTED YELLING AT YOU FOR RUINING HER WORK !!!! like damn it's not your fault

- luckily the teacher was kind enough to aknowledge your apology and scold the girl for yelling but still !!! You were angry !! (⋋▂⋌)

- so angry that you may....have started crying in class just cause beating the living hell out of your ex was just not something you could do and not get at least detention for-

- the embarassment of it all had caused you to storm out of the school at the first chance you had, not wanting to murder your ex or anybody else if they made any comments

- you were taken out of your internal turmoil in the middle of the sidewalk by the smell of the sea and well,,,,,the sight that was literally right in front of you

- not to be sappy or basic or anything but a good sunset never failed to make your heart go doki doki from the pretty colors(●´ω｀●)

- you didn't even notice time passing or the sky painting itself like that

- weird huh

- what a world we live in

- anyway you truly felt like things were meant to be at the moment you set foot on the soft sand (you'd have taken of your shoes if it wasn't for your socks preventing you from it)

- in this moment of awe you stuffed your phone and earbuds in your bag and made a run for the water !!!! Excited to see the cute riples of foam closer !!!

- and then you fell.

- FACE FIRST IN THE SAND BABY

- and you would have been fine if it wasnt for the loud sound of someone SNORTING AND CACKLING BEHIND YOU LIKE ?????

- FIRST OF ALL YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE ALONE ????

- AND WHO TF DARED ???

- THE GUY DIDNT EVEN HELP YOU HE JUST CAME UP TO YOU AND LET OUT A

- "Damn ive never seen anyone so eager to bite the dust !" And then laughed again !!

- ●︿●

- thats where it dawned upon you that this guy was one of the third years from your school's male volleyballl team !!!! If you remember correctly his name was Matsukawa Issei but did it really matter ???

- it was someone from school who was laughing at you ???? You Y/N L/N

- the embarassment came crashing onto you like the waves on the shore and in a second you were sobbing

 - the hot tears were rolling down your cheeks at high speed and you swore you heard Mattsun gulp when be realised what was going on

- "w-wait sorry...i didn't mean to make you cry" he didn't really know what to do so his hands were just hanging in the air as he knelt down in front of you

- ⋋_⋌ you mustered up the energy to glare at him thru your glossy eyes but really it looked as intimidating as a hamster- haha what no, the middle blocker's heart totally did NOT skip a beat with the pouty hamster + sunset color palette combination !!!! Not that you'd notice anyway

- instead of kneeling there awkwardly he opted for picking up your backpack before sitting next to you, putting his knees up to his chest and staring at anywhere but your very embarassed self

- "i really mean it you know ? Sorry for making you cry..." MATSUKAWA ISSEI STOP BEING A SIMP FOR SOMEONE YOU JUST MET CHALLENGE YOUR SUN PISCES IS SHOWING KING

- "its not entirely your fault...." you managed to say between hiccups, "ive kinda had like....a really really bad day"

- ".....i see" i sEe HeAdAsS you should have thought about it before laughing at Y/N like that !!!

- after that you didn't really know what to do

- i mean yeah grabbing your bag, flipping him off and then going back home sounded like a tight plan but at the same time,,,,,the sound of the waves was calming and the sun was pretty   (●´ω｀●)

- and little did you know that as you were too focused looking absolutly enamored with the sun itself Mattsun was looking at you trying to think about how the hell he was going to keep the conversation and the vibes going when you're just sitting there looking like THAT

- it was like that one scene in Kimi no Nawa when Taki and Mitsuba see each other for the first time sodjdisnakaka

- except that he was the only one staring but that didn't really phase him

- "you know-" ah here it comes

- he started talking so he'd have to go thru with it until the end

- he weirdly enough did NOT want you to turn to look at him because he knew that if you did the words would get caught up in his throat and- oh no you did

- oop the sand looks very interesting all of a sudden wow :0

- "you know when i have a bad day i usually come to sit here and watch the sunset"

- "okay and ?"

- GOSH Y/N LET HIM SPEAK PLEASE HE'S HAVING A HARD TIME

- "and it feels nice....like today for example, i just lost a volleyball match against some other school, Karasu-whatever you probably don't care but....after living such a hard loss it feels nice to look at the sky painted in all these colors you know ? Plus you don't have to talk so it's great it's as if you were on top of the world-"

- he was cut off by the sound of your laugh

- "ARE YOU MAKING FUN OF ME ???"

- as you struggled to catch your breath you looked at him and smiled

- "you know you're not as bad as i thought !"

- huh

- you were definitely something :\

- spiking the ball right thru Matsukawa's chest and straight to his heart

- "My name's Y/N L/N im a 2nd year ! also don't worry i wasn't making fun of you at all i just can't believe that you exposed your simp card so proudly to someone you BARELY know"

- "well i felt bad because-"

- "it's cute (▰˘◡˘▰)"

- OH.

- MY MANZ WAS AT A LOSS OF WORD

- WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT MAKING FUN OF A GIRL FALLING WAS ALL IT TOOK TO MAKE HIS DAY A 100 TIMES BETTER

- HE WOULD HAVE TO TELL MAKKI ABOUT THIS ASAP

- you snapped him out of his daze by pointing out that your mom would be worried if you walked alone to your house at night

- "sooooo is it my cue to walk you home ?" smooth recovery from him, you must admit

- "should we get boba on the way ?" You said standing up and dusting your shirt

- "you bet."

[shinobicyrus]

“Tooth and Claw”

Haven’t written much Phandom stuff lately, so I thought I’d try something for this year’s Ectober. This one’s for October 26th: TEETH

It was probably a bad sign how long it took for Tucker to figure out which of the tech in his bag was beeping. Had to crouch over it on the sidewalk sifting through a tablet, an old phone, his backup battery charger, two different generations of game boys, his backup-backup charger; Sam always warned him he was slowly sliding down a slippery silicon slope into pseudo-hoarding.

He found the culprit near the bottom of the bag: a Fenton ecto-scope tangled up in some old  cables for a model of PDA he…didn’t actually own anymore. Sam must never know. 

It was a cobbled-together monster made from grave-robbing radio-shacks and amateur soldering kits. Taking it out of the bag only made it vibrate and beep more urgently. The scope took some finagling with a few stuck knobs and dials before the static on screen resolved into something informative: the pixelated silhouettes of trees and a cold-spot slithering past them in toxic, neon green.

Tucker lowered the scope and squinted down the block. The park was that way. Damn. Rustling through his pockets, he pulled out his main phone and pinged Danny on the secure messenger app they’d set up for Phantom stuff- because it wasn’t paranoia when the government really was hunting you down.

GROUPCHAT: WHO YA GONNA CALL? (THE D)

You: Code Green in the park You: class idk whatever the hell AW SHIT THAT’S BIG is Danny: ok I can be there in 8 Danny: keep your head down till I get there

Tucker typed back ‘You know me,’ and added a scardey-faced emoticon. 

Danny: :/ You: I choose to interpret that as loving concern for my safety You: don’t text and fly have you learned nothing from the billboard incident You: such a bad role model You: Thing of the kids You: *think You: Plz hurry

Tucker pocketed his phone before Danny remembered the talk-to-text feature. Or if Sam logged on. Like he needed their reminders not to try stuff solo. He was fully capable on standing on a streetcorner like a good sidekick and wait for the big kids to come and-

A scream cut through the night, echoes elongating on concrete and broken asphalt. 

From the park.

Where the monster-ghost was. 

Tucker groaned. “Aw hell,” and ran down the street towards it. 

Being a technophillic pseudo-shut-in whose primary mode of exercise was patrolling haunted warehouses and fleeing for his life, Tucker was pretty unfamiliar with the park. The light from the scattering of streetlamps following the paths was too few and far between, and the shadows from the trees offered too many places for an attack to come from. Honestly, even without the ghost this place was a deathtrap. 

But whatever, he was committed. He had a Fenton wrist blaster raised and trained on anything that sounded bigger than a grasshopper while he followed the chiming ectoscope.

It all resembled a scene from one of Sam’s Femalien movies a little too close for comfort: the squad of buff, hypermasculine space marines of the spacepatriachy, gung-ho and completely unaware how quickly their collective space-asses were about to get wrecked.

He kept walking. The ectoscope pinged faster. Danny said eight minutes, right? And that was…not eight minutes ago, but sooner than it was earlier. All he had to do was rescue the nice human people from being chewtoys and preferably not get full-ghosted himself.

A twig snapped. Tucker almost shot a startled rabbit, eyes shining on the edge of a streetlight. It hopped away until it melted into the long shadows of the mini-woods. 

“This is a good plan,” Tucker decided. Out loud. On the record. 

Further down the path, where the path looped around a copse of trees and the scarce light flickered weakly, Tucker heard another scream. 

He ran towards it. Look out, creatures of the netherworld, it’s a coward with a guuuun!

Around the bend, the lights were completely out, smothered and snuffed by a low buzzing hum that smelled like ozone and made the ectoscope sputter into a snowstorm of static. There was still plenty of light to see by. Sick, witch-cauldron green radiating from the ghost swimming ethereally in the air like a giant watersnake, only segmented, SUV-sized, and a head that was more a gaping chasm of sawteeth than actual head. 

That sarlacc mouth was perfectly sized to swallow up a lady in jogger clothes, who was pretty much paralyzed with fear…or maybe it was some kind of hypnotic gaze? Maybe that was what the noise was: lulling the prey just long enough to send them to the Boba-Fett Place. 

Tucker threw the ectoscope aside, braced the arm with the wrist-blaster, and shot right down the thing’s ugly mouth.

The low buzzing in the air cut off into a gurgling screech. It reared up, spitting up ecto-bile and vaporized gullet. Tucker’s next two shots hit along its body, making it spasm mid-air like a breathless fish to crash writhing into the grass. 

“Wha-?” The lady said, either broken by the spell or just plain baffled by daring rescue. Tuck ran up to stand between her and the ghost, blaster at the ready.

“Just go, I’ll hold it off!” Tucker yelled over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be-”

Annnddd she was already gone. Oh wow she could really book it. Guess that explained the jogging shorts. Still. 

“What, not even half a second of hesitation?!” Tucker yelled at the receding sound of her shoes. “I know I told you to run, but jeez, a little concern for- oh hi you’re up.”

The baby shai-hulud had risen back up, not floating but still long enough to cast a shadow over him. From that close, its outraged roar smelled a little like sun-rotted roadkill. 

 “Okay, you’re a little mad, I hear you,” Tucker leveled the blaster at it. “But here’s my rebuttal.”

Then the blaster didn’t fire.

Tucker rapidly thumbed the firing switch again. A third time. The blaster shuddered a bit on his wrist, made an sad, tired electric whine. It sounded too much like a whomp whomp on helium. 

“Uh…I don’t suppose you’d let me find someplace to plug this in?” He yelped and dove to the side when the ghost lunged at him. “AH! Guess that’s a ‘no’!”

Oh God how had he thought this was a good plan.

Tucker ran, pulled out every stop he knew from years of tactically fleeing horrifying undead monsters. Thankfully however he’d hurt it before kept it from flying after him, and it didn’t seem smart enough to phase through the trash cans, streetlights, and park benches that got in its way. Or maybe it was just super pissed.

Somehow he managed to pull out his phone in the middle of a zigzag, checked the time. Another three minutes? Two? Like Danny was ever freaking on time for anything in his half-life. “Call Danny!” He yelled. 

The phone showed him a profile pic of Danielle and Tucker cosplaying at last year’s nerd-con. “Calling ‘DANI’…”

“Wrong one stupid clone-racist phone! CALL DANNY!”

“Calling ‘DADDY…’“

“How the fuck even?!” 

Technology you’ve failed me. I’ve shown you nothing but allegedly obsessive love and you do me like that.

The ghost’s glow cast behind him warned Tucker just in time to skid beneath a low-branch and let it ram into the tree instead. Wood crunched and he shuddered thinking of being chewed and ground down to the bone between those teeth.

 It was okay, the plan was going great. He was still alive, stalling for time. Danny would get here, follow the sound of ghost roars and Tucker’s manly not-panicking screams, thermos the worm, then grab some nice post-hunt midnight bro-grub and crack jokes about how Tucker almost got eaten by-

Something snagged his ankle, cutting Tucker’s speed from adrenaline-fueled to face-meets-ground with gravity-speed. Screw you too, psychics. 

He managed to throw up his arms in time to shield his face. Pain lanced up his forearm and burned scraps into his palms. His glasses where askew, the world gone crooked and blurred. Neck twisted to follow the cold, wet feeling slowly dragging him through a bed of dead leaves. 

A long, slick glowing tendril coming from the ghost’s mouth pulled him closer and closer into its waiting maw. The hum turned into hungry, gleeful gurgles. 

Oh. This was. This was not in the plan. 

Tucker dug his raw hands  into the ground, dragging fistfuls of leaves and wet dirt. The light from his phone screen was just an arms length ahead, pulling away, no matter how much he kicked and scrambled and tried to pull himself forward. He thought there’d be more screaming and babbling on his end. Instead he was focusing every molecule of air on breathing, trying to get his crappy body Sam used for workout fodder to fight, stop that grinding progress towards it. 

He was close enough to kick it, watch its expectant slobber dribble on his ripped cargo pants. Stupidly, he adjusted his glasses; got a nice, non-blurry view of that garbage disposal mouth, a hungry pit lined with thumb-sized teeth he could reach up and touch.

Tucker’s entire life, the whole of him, boiled down to this. He always figured his last thoughts would be of his mom, crammed between Sam and Danny on his too-small bed binging bad anime, the way Ingrid bit her lip nervously before she decided to give him his first kiss.

Instead, he just swallowed and said: “Oh Grandmother, what big teeth you have.”

Jesus, good thing no one was around to hear that. 

“LASU LIN IRI!”

A furious growl tore through the trees- a wrecking ball of black and green slammed into the side of the ghost-worm. It reared up and shrieked with pain, the tendril around Tucker’s ankle somehow slack and severed.

The smart thing would be to move. Tucker numbly continued to sit there, jaw hanging as his rescuer clung to the side of the ghost-worm and tore into it with massive claws. 

“Wulf?”

The ghost-worm bucked and wiggled, then body-slammed itself into the ground, forcing Wulf to leap off and land on all fours. His eyes were solid green and burning, snarling something in ghost Tucker couldn’t catch. They went at each other, tearing the small forest around them apart. The worm’s hide was pierced and bleeding in a dozen places, but it had desperation and a metric fuckton of bulk to throw around. 

Wulf took cover in the trees, leaping from branch to branch, constantly circling and taking advantage of every opportunity to claw at its blind spots (how did it see though? did it even have eyes where the hell were its eyes?). Tucker realized his mistake when it dawned on him how much energy Wulf was wasting trying to keep that thing’s attention off of him, how Wulf was trying to protect him. 

The worm must have realized it at the same time. Tucker saw it coming, tried to yell and warn him, but it came too fast- Wulf was blindsided by the worm’s tail end, flew and hit the trunk of a tree and went down hard. Pulled himself up with strain shaking his shoulders. 

The worm let out a skree of victory and hurled itself towards Wulf. Faster than Tucker could shout, he saved himself by cutting a portal into solid air and diving in just before the worm hit, flattening itself and splintering the tree like a brittle toothpick.

It rolled and flopped on the ground, like it was having some kind of tantrum. Pulling itself back up, its mouth-head swiveled around, searching for some sign of Wulf, until it settled back on Tucker.

“Don’t look at me, I don’t know where he went.” 

A muffled, tearing noise came from somewhere in the worm’s middle.

“Nevermind.”

Wulf burst out of worm’s midsection claws first with a howl, an explosion like a sledgehammer to a watermelon that splattered Tucker and everything in sight with green. The worm didn’t even have any breath left inside, much less insides at all, to even make a dying noise as it fell over like a deflated hose. 

Panting, splattered with goopy green chunks on his claws and in his fur, Wulf stood in the clearing and panted hard. His eyes were still narrowed and dangerous, ears flat against his big head and hackles raised. Tucker had forgotten how big he was, half again as tall with enough shoulder width and muscle that would have brought Dax Baxter to weep impotent tears. 

“Uh…Wulf? You okay buddy? Amiko?”

Wulf’s ears shot up, the hunch in his shoulders straightening as he spun around to look at Tucker with huge, concerned eyes. “Amiko Tuck!”

He dove at him, predator fast, and before Tucker could even flinch Wulf’s huge paws picked up Tucker and held him at Wulf’s eye-level. “Ĉu vi estas bone? Ĉu ĝi vundis vin?” His muzzle scrunched adorably as he sniffed Tucker up and down.

“Ah-ah!, that tickles! Haha- okay okay I’m fine, man. Ne…ne- nenio estas rompita.” He smiled with a split lip. “Danke al vi.”

“Sed,” A paw easily braceleted around Tucker’s wrist. “Viaj manoj…”

“Just a scrape man, really,” Tucker assured him. “It could have been- would have been a hell of a lot worse.”

Wulf’s left ear flicked, then looked pointedly at Tucker’s hands. Shaking like leaves in Wulf’s grip. It hurt his palms for Tucker to clench his fist, but it stopped the worst of the shakes. There was nothing he could do to stop the shaking in his heart, how hyperaware he was of his own pulse, the distant but twinging pain in arm, his ankle. The pressure behind his eyes. 

“Please don’t tell Danny and Sam?” He asked, voice a little weaker. “I-I don’t want them to know how close it was. They’d only get worried.”

“Por bona kialo,” Wulf reprimanded him gently.

“Please? Bonvolu?”

It was funny to see a wolf’s brow furrow with deep thoughts, until finally Wulf hugged Tucker tight to his chest. A giant, fuzzy, protective barrier he could wrap his arms around. 

“Thanks Wulf, you’re the best.”

“I know,” he managed, then touched his big, wet nose Tucker’s.

Heat flooded his face. “Oh my God did you just give me a dog-kiss? Is that a thing you just did?”

“Not dog,” Wulf corrected him. “Lupo.”

“You are missing the point of-”

“Tucker!” A voice dropped in from the sky.

Of course this is when Danny would get here. This is his life, this is what he deserves.

Danny floated above the torn up ground and pulverized trees and gaped at the slowly melting leftovers of the ghost-worm. “What the hell- what is Wulf doing here?”

Tucker crossed his arms across and played up snuggling against Wulf’s ghost-hoodie. Not like they weren’t both covered in worm-goop anyways. “Lucky for me you’re not the only ghost-friend I have and this one is both cuddlier and more reliable.”

“I thought I told you to sit tight until I got here!”

“An innocent midnight jogger with bad judgement and possibly insomnia was in danger. What was I supposed to do, ask it to hold up until the real hero showed up?”

That seemed to cut off whatever else Danny was planning to say. “I. There was- yeah okay that’s fair. Good work, Tuck.”

Wulf and Tucker cleared their throats. 

“Both of you. Thanks for having Tucker’s back, Wulf.”

Wulf shrugged, “Ne dankinde. Tucker havis ĝin sub kontrolo.”

“I’m…going to assume that means ‘you’re welcome.’“

“Dude,” Tucker said. “Duolingo. Esperanto ain’t that hard.”

“Iz not.” Wulf said. “English.”

Danny and Tucker both laughed at the smug look on Wulf’s face. 

“Well you two look thoroughly disgusting,” Danny said. “Want to skip the traditional after-hunt bro-snack and get you home to get cleaned up?”

“Hell no,” Tucker said mutinously. “Wulf and I can go back to the apartment to get cleaned, you can pick up some burgers for all three of us for being late.”

Wulf’s tail swished away some stray leaves behind him “Burgers?”

Danny blanched at the thought of paying for enough food to satisfy two grown men and a giant werewolf-ghost, but between Tucker’s guilt-trip look and Wulf’s puppy eyes, he sighed. “Okay, okay fine, I’ve got food duty. But he stays in your room until you two get that crap off you. I don’t want the whole apartment smelling like double-dead worm monster and wet dog.”

“Lupo,” They said together. Wulf’s ears perked and he grinned at Tucker with a mouthful of fangs. 

[oceangl1tter]

Postpone the future

future things i'm itching to write about:// - INFP and unrequited love: name a more iconic duo - past lovers as colors of my nailpolish - sappy fiction in which i write a happy ending - how many  flowers can you stuff in your mouth before you throw up and die of indigestion - new year resolutions: TBD ————————————— First glass://

" HOUSE RULES to keep in mind 1. Do not go into any other rooms except for the restroom and my room 2. Bring enough food to be finished up or you take home whatever is left. 3. Do not open my closet/drawers lol its just my clothes tf? o.O 4. Clean up after yourself.... plS/ run to the damn restroom if u feel like yAK 5. PARTY ENDS 12AM sori pplz mama/papa gots to sleep " As a result of breaking the Golden Rule, the first of rules that had been posted in advance in our private Facebook event, we have been declaratively kicked out. R sneaks in a vomit-session before embarking on our expedition to the nearest boba place that would tolerate the ruckus from 4 hobbling pairs,2 observers, other stragglers lost on the way. It's supposedly a 40 minute walk to TenRen but time doesn't exist when you're trying to stop waddling kids from veering into oncoming traffic.The ranking of most drunk to least goes like this:

S E KC Q R MR DY A M JR, V R, JS, KG

Unfortunately, those burdened with not being shit-faced have been assigned the lovely task of cleaning up spilled drinks (a fizzy coca-cola liter erupts two times, same girl, same stumble, twice the sticky), being a branch for others to hang onto, and emotionally supporting the less-fortunate drunks. 

Breaking down the Hot Mess:

S and E pour up as if the red cups in their hands are the equivalent of shot-glasses—this measurement is obviously incredibly off and perhaps the reason why one of  them surpasses their breaking point (the other will throw up the remaining Malibu/ Smirnoff in a public trashcan in Atlantic Times Square) But for now, they're hyper, happy, laughing drunks, prancing along the host's bedroom and clinging along people in their path and tearing themselves off like pinballs.

S: Everything seems to be funny. Affectionate & eerily giggly. The next moment she's crying into the host's bed, facedown, emitting ugly sobs through convulses of her body. J is at her side telling her she can't cry into the host's bed and that she'll find someone else who will make her happy, but she has to get up first. She replies with," FUCK HIM!! I NEED HIM! HE MADE ME HAPPY!" This must've been inevitable. Don't drink in the same room with your ex. Another moment, she's pounding on the bathroom door because she has to pee. We broke the first rule. The host's mom comes out of her room later to see what the commotion is all about. She enters the room. Girl on bed, facedown, crying. Guy talking her down. R, taking a lazy nap on the side. Me, standing up with tissues stained coke-brown, red-faced, with my dumb nosering on looking into the eyes of someone that has known me since I was 10. She's on the phone and looks around the room. Concern or anger? I can't tell. I say in Cantonese that everything is fine. She is fine. I don't know how to say "she's not drunk! ! she's heartbroken" but the smell of the room betrays any statement. Kick-out ensues. 

E: This happened last time and she always proclaims the day after: "I wasn't that drunk!" The girl has lost all principles of momentum and flops on people's shoulders, anchoring her arm around necks. She drinks the same amount as S + the leftover bottle of Malibu. Her layer of introversion is gone as she lunges around the room with cup in hand. On our way to boba in the dark, she strides in zig zags with confident, imprecise steps. R runs after her. 

KC: Her original state is a high-pitched buzz of energy and it seems like alcohol multiplies that tenfold. She whacks S's left eye with her hand on accident. E whacks S's right eye with her foot on accident. She calls E fat and then apologizes. Later, she cries because she is sad. She loves everyone. She loves you. She loves her friends. She loves everyone, especially you. S, E, and KC are trio drunks. KC and I started out next to eachother drinking Calpico. I can't pinpoint when the trajectory split.

Q: She is a flirty, artificial drunk and at this point I'm over it. I saw the same thing unfold in Berkeley except with her boyfriend added into the equation. Not fun. Everyone else ignores her. She lays on the bed texting him.

R: R is a sleepy-drunk and he's knocked out first. I'm not sure how he was able to sleep through the loud singing of the national anthem and random indian music someone put on. I tell wide-eyed observers that this is signs of an alcoholic in the making. He pets S's hair as she cries into neatly folded blankets. On our way to boba I've been tasked with handling his inhibition. I am his crutch for the first half. The second half he is pushing me in an abandoned shopping cart and topples it over a bump in the sidewalk. My backpack, thankfully, protects my head from cracking open like an egg. Later on he grips my balled up hand and tries to unfold my fingers forcefully as if he could peel them out of the curled fist position. His hands feel like demands instead of sheepish drunk maneuvers. They don't feel sweaty but they're not warm either. We can't do this. I am shaking my head and curling my mid-sentences up as if I were scolding some dog. I don't let anyone hold my hand! Not even my mom! I say matter-of-factly. After wrestling it for a few moments he gives up.

New Years pt.1 / 11-12:// —————— J KM A S Q D KC R MR KG

New Years I had decided that I was sick of cleaning up after sick people and decided that it was up to me to be the agent of my own shitface-ness.  I arrive an hour before countdown. Early enough to not be missing out on the fun but late enough to have enough of it. I hadn't gone to this point before of not being able to coordinate the joints in my legs and how they are supposed to move together. I feel like a mannequin moving the different wooden blocks of my body. My cruise through the living room is stop-motion movement at 6 frames per second. I ask KG if that means I have meningitis and if that means I will die because I heard from my sister some girl when she was in highschool shared drinks, caught some virus and forgot how to walk afterwards. I took the shots and I also took shots, so do these shots cancel out?? My heart is beating so fast? Will I die? These are fleeting worries as I engage in a heavily regulated sequence of sitting on the floor, mulling on my phone, and sashaying across MR's house to the beat of the music with a cup of water and Soju in my hands for optimal simultaneous intake. I love MR's floor. I could have a ball in here. Loopy thoughts in my head spill out of my drink. I love that drunk words and actions never mean anything. I'm seated next to D in the kitchen under dim lights when I blurt out that I hate f***ots. I'm laughing and laughing and Laughing and Sipping on my Cup. D laughs along in shock and tells me to stop. I lazily say I must be projecting.

Some in-betweeners: (11) I stop KP and KC from having their New Years Kiss because we are NOT changing teams right now while drunk and/or heartbroken and I slice their SIN with my hands. Checkmate, athiests. 

(11 1/2) 

(12) J envelopes me in a big bear hug he has a knack for doing and I don't understand why he is hugging me when he does not even know me. I'm being consoled as I empty my lungs in gasping heaves. I've been made physically immobile at this point and I don't feel like squeaming out from this embrace like I would usually do. It's more of a crumple. D hovers over us. Sons! Sneezed out of her nose! We do a family hug. It's a comforting one. I shake hands with J in a marriage pact that if in 40 years we still haven't found The One we would just call it a day and get married. D wants to join in, but I tell him I'm not down for threesomes. Letalone incestuous ones. I don't think it will happen but in case it does, it wouldn't hurt to fall back on history. 

He tells me a few more things:

The money he spent, the Blitzcrank plush that he ordered that never came in the mail and was too shy to ask for a replacement.

The middle school cringey rejection song sent to him played on repeat as he ran laps to get swol to win the hearts of others and move on https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W9A52UWmmrE ; The cliche line about learning to love yourself before you love someone else and his backburner recognition that the song I sent that apparently "changed his life" like a cop-out of some manic pixie dream girl concept, might not have been for him. Bingo.

The $5 bill he snuck under one of my frontyard rocks because he thought I was broke. He asks if I ever got it. No I did not, but thanks.

My tumblr he tried to find and couldn't; the one Samantha told him I had but wouldn't give him unless they went out together.

(1) Later that night I'm limping J back to his house as he spits out foams of champagne out of his mouth. M kicks him out of his house because he's done with his shit that he dumps on others—shit that he brought about himself. (2)   (3) (4) —————————————————————————————————-

[athousandmelancholies-blog]

2:30 PM

2:21 PM

I was at the bottom of the stairs going up. He was at the top of the stairs looking down. I knew his glance was on me - those deep-set, black eyes, that smooth tan skin, the long, rugged hair that was a little brown in the sunlight - so I moved to puff my chest a little more, jut out my butt a little more, and smile like I just saw deliverance.

He was deliverance. Lucien Paloma was a handsome, sophisticated, exploding package of deliverance.

He ran down an empty flight of stairs. It was the last semester of school.

"Happy monthsary, little girl," he breathed slowly as he caught me in a tight hug.

Heady from that warm whisper, I kissed him on the mouth - in public - and looked at him. He unlocked that tight embrace and shouted with his fists clenched, hands stretched above him.

"Ang swerte ko sa girlfriend ko!"

Surprised, I quickly pressed my palms on his mouth, and we erupted into a fit of giggles.

This scrawny, morena girl from Tanauan, Batangas was finally in love. I was 21 years old.

2:22 PM

I worked in Makati. He worked in Taguig. We were both away from probinsyano parents, toiling our own lot and ignoring the admonitions of, "Masyado na ata kayong siryoso."

I was a writer. A creative. He was a legal assistant. A nerd. We moved in together three days before our first anniversary. Nobody but Consi - my best friend - knew.

Well, supposedly nobody.

The first few nights with Lucien was absolute bliss. Each moment felt exactly like that song "Wouldn't it be nice?". Sweaty in our sleep, hands clasped together, dreams of futures with shiny condo units and travels to Europe, and all the beauty of first-time intimacy. I didn't want to do it at first, but he insisted. When the pain peeled away, I was left with absolute bliss. We barely noticed that we were holed up in a mosquito-infested, flying cockroach-ridden bedspacer for two.

Until that Wednesday. That Wednesday, I received a call from my mother.

"Putangina mong boba kang bata ka," she sneered.

I was speechless.

Prompted by concern, Consi told my mom. My mom made a fit. Every thinking creature in Tanauan knew.

"You will regret this day," she said in native Bisaya.

My mom - a restobar singer - has two kids from different fathers. I'm the first. Shameful offspring of a loveless marriage with a now-stranger called Rudy Castiliano. Chrissy was the second. Proud product of a one-night stand with a vacationing Joe in Laiya.

Painfully, she single-handedly brought both of us up. The toil took her beauty as well as her voice. She cooks now.

The love she wittheld from me, she poured on Chrissy. Someday, she hopes, Chrissy is going to be crowned Miss Universe and will buy us all a 3-storey house in Forbes Park.

There was only one thing she asked from me: not to waste my life on love.

I glanced to sleeping Lucien by my side. Shirtless, with beads of sweat pooling along the ridges of his stomach, his hair in a mess after an hour of love-making. This, I could not resist.

I never heard from her again.

2:23 PM

It started with a fight.

Lucien hated his boss. Hated his tie. Hated his life. He was a firecracker: he could perform beautifully if he wanted to, but stretched too thin, he could hurt you.

He stormed into our room seething. He banged the door behind him. This wasn't the first time.

"Don't be noisy. Magagalit si Aleng Tina," I lovingly said.

He looked at me, lost. I thought he was going to erupt in tears. He pulled me closer and tightened his grip on my wrist. I was ready to cradle him in my arms like I always do.

But, this time, he said, "Don't you ever tell me what to do."

The last thing I felt was a loud slap thundering on my face.

I dreamt of Miss Universes and write-ups and my mother's blank face that night.

2:24 PM

He was sick.

Hunched over him, applying cold compress to his forehead, feeding him spoonfuls of lugaw, my anger softened.

I told myself it was the stress. I told myself it was the boss. I told myself it was his weak immune system.

He's okay. We're okay. He gets angry. A little slap here, a little squeeze there. It wasn't violence. It was just gigil.

That went on for 5 months.

Then he quit his job.

I take a 6:00 AM - 2:00 PM shift at my job. I wrote English crime articles for a foreign company.

At precisely 2:24 PM on the eve of our second anniversary, I open the door to our sanctuary.

I heard creaking, and thought it must be Lucien with his exercises. He says it's 3 months of 'funemployment'. I say it's 3 months of 'tambay'. He gets annoyed.

Unfortunately, somebody has to pay the bills, so I've OT-ed for so many days already. He wouldn't be expecting me this early.

I tip-toe to the bedroom door and open it gently, eager to surprise him

My heart sank.

The fair-skinned Kala Yu sat, half-naked, beside Lucien on the bed. She had her hand on his manhood. He had his palms on her cheeks. Kissing her. Inhaling her. Swallowing her.

She was a superviser from work. He used to say he hated her posh private-school credentials and red designer bags.

I ran out crying.

2:25 PM

It was a scene from a movie.

I come out from my office building in the pouring rain. I seek shelter below a green parasol of a nearby Starbucks, berating myself for forgetting my umbrella at home.

Lucien fled that horrid day - not to be seen again for 9 days. I was a wreck.

And then I see him.

In the rain.

Piercing black eyes, ruffled hair, slim figure, wet in the rain. Looking at me. With love and longing like that day on the stairs. With repentance.

He moved closer. The sting of alcohol on his breath. He was inches away from me now. Staring dead into me.

"I promise you. I will never see her again," he said each word slowly, surely.

I thought the certainty I heard in his voice was honesty.

I was wrong.

2:26 PM

It has been months since the she-devil manifested her presence in our home.

I tried to prevent myself from falling further, but the Lucien of the past months evaporated. Once again, he was the upbeat, smart-alecky, loving puppy of a boyfriend I knew.

He said he was happy with his "freelance" job - legal writings for clients here and there. He said he was happy working from home, catching up with his college friends, feeling "kolehiyala" again.

I was happy that he was happy.

I didn't tell him I was tired from working long hours at the office. I didn't tell him I was scrimping on my clothes, make-up for water, electricity. I didn't tell him our grocery expenses nearly doubled in the last year. I didn't tell him my savings account always seemed to dwindle down to 4 figures.

I also didn't tell him I knew that Kala still cast a shadow on his life. I didn't tell him I found out it was Kala who was giving him the P5,000/write-up side jobs. They talked only on chat, as far as I found out.

He promised me, right?

I also didn't nag him on the money he should be contributing. Money that he otherwise spent on friends, alcohol and God knows what.

I didn't want to risk his bad side.

I could still feel the phantom pain of that clenched fist on my wrist.

2:27 PM

I come home to a noisy spectacle of Lucien and his college friends drinking and smoking outside the apartment. One of Lucien's friends wolf-whistled as I approached. Lucien just laughed.

I ignored them and entered the room. I hurled myself on the bed. I turn to my phone.

Consi sends me a message request on Facebook. I still haven't forgiven her.

Idly, I open the message. Another sorry, perhaps?

I'm sick of sorries now. Between Lucien's fits of anger, our fights about Kala, his rowdy nights with friends and his desperate calls for forgiveness, 'sorry' is losing its meaning.

"I need to talk to you," Consi left a message.

She was online. I saw the floating dots. She was typing.

"May sakit Mama mo. Malala na. Puntahan mo siya."

I thought I was hallucinating. But the black text on gray didn't lie.

It's been nearly three years since I last talked to my mom.

I rushed to the bus terminal.

2:28 PM

I passed roads with potholes, gymnasiums with torn posters of our Mayor, lazy carabaos, and bare-foot children playing in the mud. Home never changed.

In our small bungalow in Tanauan, my mom lay still facing up with her eyes closed. Her wrinkles, sunspots belied the wry smile she tried to keep up.

Weakly, she said, "I'm sorry, anak."

She held out her hand. I moved closer, shuddering at the coldness.

"Sorry din, Ma."

I wish I said I love you, but the more I loved in this life, the more it hurt.

She needed help. I mentally computed the dizzying array of expenses - medicine, a hospital in Manila, a doctor's professional fee. Where would I get that money?

Chrissy pulled at my skirt.

"Ate, pray na lang tayo kay God?" her blue eyes pleaded to me.

In my head, Lucien's voice rings loud and clear, "There's no God. If there were one, he's a fool."

2:29 PM

By the time I got back to the apartment, I was exhausted.

I entered the room to find Lucien, two friends, and a big-chested girl with straight, black hair drinking on our dining table.

I motioned to talk to Lucien.

"Anong problema, baby?" he said as he started to play with the buttons on my shirt.

My anger exploded.

Thoughts of my helpless mother, Ms. Chrissy of the Universe, my stranger of a father, and this unbearable parade of Lucien, Lucien, Lucien. It was too much.

"Tumigil ka!" I spat and grabbed my shirt from his hands.

I started to cry.

"My mother is sick. Mamamatay siya at wala akong pera," I cried.

I forgot to add - because of you, Lucien.

His fists started to clench into tight balls.

"At kasalanan ko 'yan?" he screamed.

I could smell the gin on his breath.

His friends laughed like maniacs. Drunk.

"Come here," he said.

I said no.

"Come here," he said.

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me close. I tried to pry myself away from him but he was too strong.

He slammed my body facing the wall. He held me so tightly, his fist encircled the bones on mine. My body froze in shock.

"Para kang droga. Ayoko na sa'yo pero di ako makatiis."

He lifted my skirt up.

I started to beg him to stop.

His friends continued to laugh.

One of them took out his phone.

I heard a flash.

He thrusted inside me.

It was all pain now.

2:30 PM

When I woke up, I was in a pool of sweat in the floor of our apartment. My fists clenched as I descended into the nightmare of real life.

Lucien was nowhere to be found.

His friends were gone, too.

My cabinet was open. The money I kept for my daily cash needs was gone.

My body ached.

I reached for my phone and started to type.

I typed out words to the crime story I should have written months, years ago.

The pain, the sorries, the adultery, the theft of dignity and love.

I typed out with tears streaming down my face.

It starts with a clenched fist and ends with destruction.

You barely notice his tyranny on you.

It grows on you.

You make excuses.

You take ignorance rather than truth.

Until it's too late.

This is my story.

I hit post.

It's 2:30 PM.