#did you know dumps do that? they make you pay money to throw things away

[wink-wonk]

.

[feralgoblinqueen]

Things I’ve heard and said as a bartender in a sketchy dive bar. I’ve just collected them all here and made them about CoD men at my bar. Y/N is the bartender unless stated otherwise. Brought to you from my shower turned sauna as I try to decongest my sinuses. Pollen season is 100% trying to kill me this year. Please laugh at my dumb idea.

————————————

* referring to seeing Graves again*

Price: You make me want to suck start a shotgun.

————————————

Soap: Check me out. *pulls out wallet*

Y/N: Stand up and turn around real quick, please.

Soap: *confused but stands and spins in a circle slowly*

Y/N: *whistles* You look spectacular!

Soap: 🤭 I mean I’d like to pay my tab, but that made my day.

————————————

*141 drunk and harmlessly flirting*

Gaz: Did you get all dolled up me?

Soap: I bet she knew I was coming, you know blue is my favorite color.

Price: She didn’t get dressed up for you muppets! But we do appreciate how you look tonight!

Ghost: *Corralling the two drunkest* You do look very nice, let us know if you want us to get them to stop.

Y/N: Appreciation is best shown as money in the tip jar. *obviously joking but also not really because it was a slow night*

*Ghost and Price laugh, dropping a couple dollars in*

*Gaz and Soap, dead serious begin dumping the contents of their wallets*

Y/N: Guys! It’s a joke! I don’t need your credit cards or this ancient condom… seriously though please throw that away you might get someone pregnant trying to use that. *that packaging showed obvious signs of ware from how long it had sat in his wallet*

Soap: I could get you pregnant with that 😏

Price: Annnnd we’re done! Sorry about Romeo 😬

Ghost: *Grabs Soap’s wallet and drops a $20 in the tip jar* He’s very sorry.

[imongkoneho]

𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐋| 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐧.

Let us forget all the menacing things that Yujiro has done, and give him a sprinkle of humanity. The relationship with him in this is either romantic or platonic, you pick, reader. Cuz idgaf <33 🥰

Life hasn't been that fair to me. They hit me with the worst luck possible and give me a chance, then hitting me again. My father wanted a son, a strong, brave one but he received a daughter. Of course, he disliked that. So, he would force me to do 'boyish stuff' such as: Basketball, football and more 'boyish' activities.

At the age of 20, he forced me to go to the army and train there. He was...proud, swaying pictures at peoples face of me in my uniform, saluting.

After training, i then decided it was enough and wanted to lead my own life, of course my father was upset, but i couldn't care less. At 24, i left the army and moved to Tokyo, Japan.

I was jobless and was staying at an apartment which was small but comfortable and had everything i needed. Japan is a unique country...i would say. '5 death row convicts escaped and are on their way to Tokyo, Japan.' the lady on the TV said, showing pictures and info.

"...Did God send me here to die?" I mumbled and opened my laptop, deciding to look for a job, while listening to the news. Japan is a unique country..they have 'Yujiro Hanma, the strongest and most feared man alive'. "Strongest? Well he definitely looks strong alright." I looked at pictures of the man.

He looked Intimidating, large and muscular. On one of his pictures, he had an ear to ear smile, i blinked. "...he looks like it." I scroll more. "...5 death row convicts...another death row convict...dead person... boxing match gone wrong...death row convict escap- ugh, since when did the world become so messed up!?"

"Yujiro Hanma looking for a... bodyguard? Why would he need a bodyguard...oh." The pay was BIG, so big that i can buy this whole building. Mr. Hanma looks like he could kill. Why would he want a bodyguard anyways?

I hesitate and ponder my decisions for a minute, glancing at the pay every now and then. I groan and slap my cheeks. I need money. And so, i contact the number.

A few seconds passed by. He picked up! "...Hello?" "A woman huh?" Yujiro spoke, amused. "...uhm, yeah. I would like to-" "Do you know how to fight?" "..yes." "You're hired." "O-oh?....Is the pay really for real?" "It's a fair pay. Your are protecting the strongest man in earth."

------

It has been a few months since you have been a bodyguard for The strongest man...creature on earth. It has been... exhausting. This man is literally a child inside a monster like mans body.

I think this man doesn't know what a bodyguard is, because he would make me fold his clothes, buy him food and throwing the money at me, orders me to threaten the president to do whatever.

But, the pay was large and made me live so much better than the time i lived with my father. I could afford more better clothes, food and make my apartment not look like a dump.

I had many experiences with this man, i wonder what his son is like.

-------

I stared at the tracker on my phone, Yujiro has a phone (which he barely use) where i downloaded a tracking app in it. 'Yujiro is in a motel again.' I thought, 'he's probably banging another girl. Damn. How does he even fit?' i shake my head, removing the thought out of my head.

I walk in and used the elevator, making my way on the floor where his room is. 'Room 23...24...25, okay.' i stood there, looking at my phone, gazing at the time.

'11:56' it read. 1...2...3. A woman came running out, crying while struggling to wear her heels. She looked at me for a second and ran away, sobbing.

Yujiro came out, half naked. "Your lunch." I faked a smile, due to my tiredness. "What happened?" I pointed with my thumb to the girl running away.

"She was too noisy. She sounds like a chew toy." He said harshly, taking the paper bag from my hand. "...of course, it's a normal human reaction." I mumbled.

"I'm not eating here, let's go." Yujiro said walking away, leaving the room open. "..sure." I quickly entered the room and saw the woman's earrings, along with a few pieces of jewelry that Yujiro left behind.

"Mr. Hanma isn't that bad after all." I hummed in delight, stealing the shiny jewels.

-------

I sat in my apartments rug, laptop in my lap, with Yujiro doing exercising stuff in the corner, breaking the wooden floor, leaving foot marks on it.

"You have a Gmail? I didn't know.." "Yeah. The government made it for me." He grunts, as he exercised. I made a disgusted sound as sweat rolled off his body. I scrolled through his Gmail "..You don't read your emails." "It's a waste of time."

Looking at the time, I notice that the news is on and reached for the remote, turning the TV on. On the news, the news reporter explained the prisoners who escaped.

I glanced at the man, feeling his murderous aura. His smile, amused. "You going to do something about it?" "Maybe." I hummed in response.

The door bell rang and it caught my attention. I stood up and walked to the door and opened it. "[Y/N]." "Father?" "Come home. Enough with this silly nonsense of yours, you can't live without me, look at this shithole you're living in!"

"...This shit hole, is my home. I'm more happier here than living in yours." I replied, eye twitching in annoyance. He came all the way here just to control you again? He could've asked how you've been doing all these years, like a good father would.

"That is no way of talking to your father! Come. Home. [Y/N], whether you like it or not, You still have my last name." "Fuck your last name!" I pull my hand away from him when he grabbed it, looking at him with disbelief and tears threatening to fall from my eyes.

He was much more stronger. I couldn't run away.

Then, he froze. His face turning into anger to fear, his eyes widening and his hands slowly quivering. He backed away, "W-w-who the fuck are you..?" "Who are you?" A voice from behind me spoke, his voice deep and menacing, almost like he wanted to kill my Father.

I gazed at my back, to see Yujiro. He had his hands crossed, with an eating-shitting grin. I can feel his aura, an aura that can kill. His eyes looked like it was glowing, his grin getting wider, more threatening. 

My father was a soldier too, he was pretty strong, a large man with muscles, littered with scars all over his body. He scared people with his looks. But this time, he was scared. Maybe scared isn't the right word. Petrified, he was petrified.

Even if they were the same height, it was obvious whos much more stronger. "F-fuck." He backed away like a scared puppy and ran. "Such a shame. He ran away already." He said amused, keeping his grin.

"Pussy." He said, walking away while scratching the inside of his ear with his pinky. I blinked. Did he just.. protect me from my father?

----

Why do I keep watching animes with dead fandoms?

[wolfiemcwolferson]

hey logaaaaan💖 i'm here to request a fic for number 16!!

Hi Justi babe,

This song is uh, not what I would normally write as a prompt, because it’s not exactly. Happy. BUT, I’ll give it a hopeful ending.

Pierre moves back in with his parents.

It’s not like he’s got a choice.

He was barely making ends meet living with Lance - with Lance and his stupid money paying most of their overpriced, overinflated rent and Pierre’s entire life really while Pierre dumped EVERYTHING into traveling and promotions and last minute club nights.

Because Lance believed in him and he loved him.

And yeah, no one expected the two of them to last - not even Pierre - but, he hadn’t expected the two of them to go out like THAT.

Pierre can’t think about it too long or he starts to feel nauseous. And he can’t think about the impossible trek he’ll have to make from fucking Sacramento into the city so he can still DJ at the few nights he’s managed to secure in advance.

He’s decidedly not thinking about it now, standing in line at the grocery store down the street with an armful of last minute things his mom needed for their dinner party, trying not to feel like a loser while he clutches the 40 dollars she slipped him.

He can’t even pay for some whole grain mustard and some lemons and a bottle of wine.

It’s shameful and ridiculous and he is burning alive with the need to…go.

To burn off this rage. This nastiness that he’s feeling towards his friends in the city. The bubble under his skin that dancing or DJing or fucking would release.

Instead, he’s watching a cashier move slower than the melting glaciers and clutching a bottle of wine.

“Pierre?”

Pierre is lucky he doesn’t die on the spot because that voice…

“Pierre,” he says again, as Pierre turns towards the voice to find Charles behind him, smiling in that brilliant way he does, already moving around the side of his own cart - a cart piled high with fresh vegetables and normal person food - reaching out to hug Pierre.

Pierre desperately wants to hug him, but Charles sees all of Pierre’s armful of groceries and he laughs, bright and high, shifting to tug the wine from his grip, placing it in his own cart.

“I did not know you were in town,” Charles says, taking the mustard from him too. “I just had dinner with you mom two weeks ago and she was talking about you getting booked into this festival in Ibiza.”

He says Ibiza like his mom does. Eeeeeebeeeeezah. Pierre finds, in the face of it - in the face of Charles - his oldest friend, the person who went to prom with him, the guy he thought was lost to him after that drunken hookup during Pierre’s freshman year of college - he doesn’t mind so much.

“Cha,” Pierre hands him the mustard, “you look -“

Charles laughs as he throws himself into Pierre’s arms. “All grown up?” He asks in Pierre’s ear, “or were you going to tell me how beautiful I look now?”

He pulls away and bats his eyelashess and Pierre throws his head back and laughs.

“Well, I am grown up.” Charles says, pinching the skin of Pierre’s wrist.

They stare at each other.

Pierre has so much he should say.

He should apologize for what happened between them. He should ask why Charles was having dinner with Pierre’s Pascale. He should ask what Charles is doing in Sacramento when last he heard, he was in San Diego.

But Charles reaches over again, soothes his thumb over where he just pinched Pierre, and Pierre stares down at the contact.

“I know your mom is doing that dinner party thing tonight,” and then he says softer, “but I’d like to see you while you’re in town.”

Pierre looks up at him. At his blush. At his eyes.

“Catch up.”

Pierre shouldn’t.

But.

“If you drop me by my parents, I’ll run this stuff in and then we could -“

“Yes,” Charles cuts him off and then Pierre watches as the blush deepens. “I can’t promise my cooking is near as good as your mom’s but -“

Pierre has to fish his bottle of wine from Charles’ basket because the conveyor belt now has space for his items.

“I’d love to catch up.”

Pierre smiles at him. “I’d love to catch up too, Cha.”

[fazfacts]

TYKE & SONS LUMBER CO. SENTENCE STARTERS!

feel free to change these as needed.

❝ Well, little [___], the day has come! ❞

❝ No, not the beginning of summer or your coming of age, but me throwing you out on your ear! ❞

❝ That's what my father said to me when I was your age. ❞

❝ No one knows where [they] went. Really weird, if you ask me. ❞

❝ You'll soon be let free from this prison you call "home." ❞

❝ It's time for you to explore the world. ❞

❝ I'm going to be watching you from a safe distance. ❞

❝ I am a professional. ❞

❝ Now, get lost. ❞

❝ This is your time to shine! ❞

❝ Promise to make me a proud [parent], will ya? ❞

❝ This is as important as me teaching you how to walk on two legs. ❞

❝ I need a Mixchiato to-go, quick! ❞

❝ I ordered a Mixchiato, not a regular coffee. You really need to listen closely. ❞

❝ I expected more of you. ❞

❝ For real, if you fail this, I will ground you forever. ❞

❝ I would help, but I'm waaay too busy complaining over the simple things in life. Like weird-tasting coffee. ❞

❝ Now go! Go and make me proud! ❞

❝ The moral of the story is that you can make cocktails, even without the ice. ❞

❝ [___] is going to ruin the whole thing for me. [They] will expose me. ❞

❝ I can't let that happen. ❞

❝ I have to get rid of [them]. ❞

❝ That won't be too much of a problem. I've done similar things before. ❞

❝ I will continue to take care of those who find out more than they need to know. ❞

❝ I'm a mastermind. I can't fail. ❞

❝ Did I just have a stroke? I actually forgot my name. ❞

❝ I'm gonna get you, [___]! ❞

❝ I'm always ahead of you, you little brat! ❞

❝ Tomorrow is another day, where I hope nothing unexpected happens. ❞

❝ Please don't make this difficult. ❞

❝ What's a car? ❞

❝ Move now or I will take out the taser. ❞

❝ [___], do something! ❞

❝ Don't drag your [child] into this. ❞

❝ And that, [son], is how you avoid the cops. ❞

❝ Something isn't right. I really don't recall doing something illegal this time. ❞

❝ We need to get to the bottom of this. ❞

❝ YOU need to get to the bottom of this. Because I'm old. ❞

❝ Who told you that I would actually pay you with money? ❞

❝ Bad things happen from time to time. I'm just happy that I'm still alive. ❞

❝ Go take a look. You will like what's down there. ❞

❝ Listen, I need your help again. ❞

❝ You still owe me one after the coffee incident yesterday. ❞

❝ Go fight the robot. Or make it go away. I don't care. ❞

❝ Something happened that really upset me. ❞

❝ I was supposed to get trashed, yet I am working perfectly fine. ❞

❝ I woke up here in the dump this morning. ❞

❝ You animals wanted to trash me. ❞

❝ Look at my six-pack. I'm ripped. RIPPED! ❞

❝ I am going to crush you. I'm going to smash you to the ground, sit on you, tear you apart, and make lumber out of you. ❞

❝ You think you can stop me? ❞

❝ I knew you could do it! ❞

❝ Overall, a pretty neat battle. I give it a seven out of ten. ❞

❝ I was young once, too. I know what's hip. ❞

❝ I would strangle you if I could. ❞

❝ Nobody can ever know what my deal is. ❞

❝ Ahahahahahaha! I'm so evil! ❞

❝ Where have you been!? I was slightly worried. ❞

❝ I have something interesting to show you. ❞

❝ That's it! You're under arrest for sleep disturbance and murder! ❞

❝ Murder? Since when is that a topic? ❞

❝ Man, we really need a television. ❞

❝ Oh, [___]. Violence isn't always the solution. ❞

❝ That's what your mother would say. ❞

❝ That was a sick move. Good [boy]. ❞

❝ What. ❞

❝ ...they all died...blah blah blah...screams...blah blah blah...magic creatures and all that stuff...blah... ❞

❝ And then I sold them on the black market because the company wasn't paying off. ❞

❝ I don't like unannounced visitors in here. Get out! ❞

❝ I didn't know who was the right person to turn to. ❞

❝ I was tricked, I tell you. ❞

❝ The day would come where I would have my revenge. ❞

❝ That's what actually happened, for real! ❞

❝ We had a fight afterwards and [they] THREW me out of the window. ❞

❝ I landed on my head and they had to give me a new body because I would have died. ❞

❝ I look like a Minecraft Creeper now. ❞

❝ He looks like something that died under my bed and was stored in my fridge. ❞

❝ Agh, I'm just not a bad person. ❞

❝ Oh, boy. I think we're in for a treat. ❞

❝ I do have an answer. Yes, I really do. The answer is very interesting, [___]. The answer is complex. However, I'm not gonna tell you what it is. ❞

❝ We know that we're the good guys, and that counts, I guess. ❞

❝ Good night, and don't let the monsters get you. Hahaha. ❞

❝ Seriously!? How dumb are you? ❞

❝ I came to the conclusion that the best solution was to just lure you down here, and that was easier than I thought. ❞

❝ Don't worry, I won't just kill you off. ❞

❝ You're trapped, after all. What can you do? ❞

❝ I just wanted to experience what it felt like to be the star, for at least a moment. ❞

❝ I've had it with you!!! ❞

❝ Wow! You need to teach me that! ❞

❝ Sorry for being such a weirdo. ❞

❝ It's not like there has been any lore, ever, that took more than five years to solve. ❞

❝ If anyone needs me, I'll be in the underground disco. ❞

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: Current, Just after [these messages] Location: The Raven Feat: @mortemoppetere & @eldritchaccident Warnings: alcoholism, sibling death (mentioned), needles (tattoos), child death (mentioned) Summary: One of these idiots thinks they are gonna die

So far the night had been…okay. Neither Teddy nor Emilio was fully present. In a way that reminded the demon of that day on the beach. At least the start of it. Somber, or Teddy's version of it. Not quite right. They cracked too many jokes at their own expense, made big dramatic shows that far better suited the version of Teddy they pretended to be, not the one that Emilio had come to know. They even went as far as paying off tabs for nearly every stranger that so much as said "hi" to them...

 (Vaguely counter intuitive considering the pair had gone out to find a fight to get into. Not give everyone in The Raven a new folk hero. But what did it matter, they thought. If Teddy didn't care for money before, what was the use of the Jones Fortune now? Leviathan certainly wasn't going to need it when it headed off back to the endless ocean. And Teddy wouldn't if they were–)

Teddy shook back to the present, Emilio had said something to them, what was it he said? The slayer had been doing his best to keep the dying demon on this side of reality all night. Even when such a feat was usually pretty Herculean for the man himself. Babysitting the not-quite-drunk-as -they-pretended-to-be demon as they wildly oscillated between bouts of far too joyous and raucous recklessness to complete dissociation. It wasn't exactly a fun ride to be on either side of. But Emilio stuck by, stayed close. 

On too many occasions throughout the night… Teddy found themself just staring at…him. All too many feelings bundled up. A mix of wonder, of grief, of something deeper Teddy couldn't even admit to themself. But not for the usual flavor of cowardice. Dark eyes shielded behind red glasses. Glancing away each time the detective returned the gaze. 

"Did you– sorry the music is so loud here, did you say something? What did you say?" The music in question was barely loud enough to drown out anything, let alone someone speaking from right next to you. Still, it wasn't like Teddy was going to mess up what was most likely the last night they'd ever have by throwing around stupid emotions that'd just end up hurting the man after they were gone. 

Emilio had lost far too much, far too often. It was bad enough Ted had to go and dump that whole 'best friend' shit on him before all this. Maybe it would have been better, doubling down on the asshole routine. Making the man hate them so there wouldn't be anything the mourn. Not that there was much in the first place. But Teddy couldn't bring themself to do it. Couldn't look at those big brown eyes and intentionally hurt him. Even if it might help in the long run. Guess something about knowing how close to your grave you were opened up a lot of bags that had gone unchecked. 

—

Teddy wasn’t acting like themself and, months ago, Emilio would have at least been able to pretend that he preferred things that way. Back when Teddy had been a thorn in his side, a constant annoyance, an irritating storm to weather, he would have said that any change from the norm was a welcome one. He would have said it directly to Teddy’s face with the intention of pissing them off, would have felt some satisfaction if he’d been successful in it. And it would have been a lot simpler. A lot easier, probably.

But he didn’t feel that way now.

He wasn’t even entirely sure when the tides had turned. He’d gone over it in his head since the beach, since Teddy’s confession that he was probably the best friend they had and Emilio’s realization that that might just be a mutual thing, but try as he might, he couldn’t pinpoint it. Was it the night with the hellhound, when he’d nearly bled out in Teddy’s bed? The fact that he’d remained too paranoid and distrustful to sleep on the demon’s boat probably ruled that out. Was it the rooftop, the moments that came after? He didn’t know if it was Teddy, the curse, or the alcohol that had opened him up. Was it the mines, when Teddy took care of Nora and nearly died thanks to a series of Emilio’s stupid mistakes? The guilt was certainly there, but he figured he’d feel the same guilt if he nearly got a stranger killed, too. 

Maybe there was no ‘turning point,’ then. Maybe it was a series of little things; stepping stones instead of a bridge. Whatever it was, it seemed almost cruel now. 

Emilio wasn’t a ‘glass half full’ kind of guy. He was much more pessimist than optimist. Even if not for his conversation with Levi, in which the greater demon all but admitted that he had little idea whether Teddy would survive the detethering or what their survival would even look like if they did, Emilio would have held little hope that things would turn out for the best. In his experience, that just wasn’t what things did. Life wasn’t a movie. The worst case scenario came true far more often than happy endings. Things went haywire, fathers abandoned their children, children died. 

He knew all about that.

And still, Teddy’s jokes bothered him. They carved a pit into his stomach, poured it full of dread. He thought it was the scenario, maybe. Someone dying because of choices their father made, it was an easy trigger point for a father whose decisions had played at least some part in his child’s death. But there was something else there, too, something Emilio didn’t understand. 

And, like most things he didn’t understand, it was starting to piss him off.

“I said I need another drink,” he mumbled, chest tight for those still-unexplainable reasons. “Can grab you one too.”

—

Shit.

Another drink. Some flavor of annoyance on his features. Just about the opposite of what they had been going for all night. Teddy sucked in a bit of air and began to curse themself for… everything. Somehow, they'd managed to convince themself that each and every step along the road that led them to this was their own fault. Something about being tossed away twice by the people who were 'supposed' to love you does that to a guy. Teddy was the only common denominator between them, right? 

Despite the fact that the ritual was very much supposed to be a collaborative effort, the younger Jones had been slinking about all week. Hadn't talked to Levi at all since that day when the demon revealed its intentions. Since it looked at Teddy like it had forgotten all the time spent together, since it tried to talk to Teddy like they were a mark. 

They didn't want anything like that with Emilio. Didn't know why but it was really fucking important to them that one person who knew they were probably going to die tomorrow had a good last impression. But Teddy Jones never was great at actually understanding the nuances of how they were supposed to act. Or rather, that interactions with the people you care about shouldn't be scripted, careful dances. Orchestrated to make sure the other dancer was as pleased with you as possible.

"Oh, hey no, you sit tight big guy, this one's on me–" Teddy flashed a smile stretched with too much eagerness that it couldn't quite help but show the cracks, and the hollow sadness underneath. They stood, trying their best not to wince, and placed a hand over Emilio's. "It's the least I can do for you putting up with all my bullshit."  

—

Their hand was placed gently over his, and Emilio hated the electric feeling it sent down his nerves. He hated the way his throat felt tight, hated the fact that this was probably going to be the last time he saw this fucking asshole. The preemptive grief was a sticky thing, attaching itself to the walls of his chest like honey sticking to the roof of your mouth and making your jaw ache with the way it glued your teeth together. He wanted to wish that he hated them, still. He wanted to wish that those quiet moments in the boat had never happened, wanted to pretend that he wanted to feel nothing here. But that was the stupid thing — he didn’t want to feel that way. Wanting to shift your desires wasn’t enough to actually do it, apparently. Emilio didn’t know what was. 

“You’re not making me do anything, you know,” he mumbled, wishing it wasn’t true. Wouldn’t it be easier if he was only here out of obligation? Wouldn’t it be simpler if he didn’t care about what was going on? He didn’t want to feel the way he felt. He didn’t want another name carved into the graveyard in his chest, didn’t want more grief to pile onto the mountain of it that already existed within him. Some part of him wondered, in an egotistical kind of way, if he was to blame for all of this. After all, Teddy’s life only became forfeit when Emilio started giving a shit about them. And wasn’t that how the pattern went? Juliana wouldn’t be dead if she’d never met him. Flora would still be alive if her father were someone else. Rosa made it clear that their family would be in a better place if Emilio had died instead of Victor, way back when. 

Maybe the people he cared about only died because he cared about them. Maybe it was some divine intervention, some Godly punishment for trying to be something he was never meant to be. If he were better at this, if he were the weapon his mother tried to forge him into instead of the man she couldn’t even pretend to like, maybe none of this would be happening at all. Emilio knew nothing about math, but he was a good enough detective to recognize the common thread between Victor, Etla, and Teddy. The line drawn between the bloody path of corpses was made of his own body, of his stupid, ever-beating heart. Everyone around him died, and he stayed standing. Where was the justice in that?

He pulled his hand back, put it under the table as if forcing distance now would do anything to stop what was already in motion. He stared at the napkin under his empty glass, at the condensation sticking it against the surface of the table. He lifted his shoulder and dropped it, the motion listless and just as goddamn useless as he was. “Whiskey,” he said, as if Teddy didn’t know, “neat.” He dug in his pocket, shoving a couple of bills in Teddy’s direction. “I’ll buy it. Should be enough for… whatever colorful drink you want, too.”

—

Teddy paused. A heavy sigh caught their chest in a vice. Dark eyes cast downward as a symphony of guilt began to swell, leaving the demon unable to look him in the eye. The woodgrain on the old table made a fine sight to affix their gaze to. Their movement stuttered, swaying slightly as Emilio retreated. As he pulled out money, put it down and accurately predicted whatever they might have gone for next. Some big damn drink with as much vibrance and flavor as they could get. Teddy liked a lot of colorful things. Liked to brighten up the world around them cause it all too often felt listless and gray. 

Something about the man sitting there changed that though. The world seemed to have more color, more life when Teddy was going head to head with the master of sulk. The king of grump. Connection, they supposed, did that. Actually finding something or someone who could see the real you. Despite the walls and masks. Maybe in spite of them. The way Emilio looked at them sometimes… it stripped them bare in a way no one ever really had before. Left the loudmouth speechless. 

Not making him do anything? What did he mean by that? It wasn’t like this was the slayer’s bar of choice. Wasn’t like this was the kind of way he liked to spend his nights. Crowds weren’t exactly the detective’s style. Easy enough to tell by the long face and withdrawn hand. Emilio wasn’t having a good time. And that was Teddy’s fault. They hadn’t planned the right farewell. The question, it seemed, was whether there was still time to fix it or not. 

“Actually… Why don’t–” Another pause. Time to process things as they were coming out. “–Why don’t we just get out of here?” Maybe they’d had enough and it was time to cut their losses. The effort to drown out the emotions wasn’t working as well as it should have anyway. Maybe it was just time to go home. “It’s too loud. Too many people. It’s a– big day tomorrow… I should rest or whatever.” 

—

It wasn’t as if the choice in venue was contributing to Emilio’s sour mood. On a night like tonight, he would have been just as low at the seedy bars where he usually hung out. Not even the whiskey burning in his chest was enough to numb him to what he was feeling; he knew from experience that it wouldn’t have been enough if he’d poured bottles of it down his throat, if he’d filled a swimming pool with it. There were holes that alcohol couldn’t fill, even if knowing as much never stopped him from trying. 

He shifted as Teddy made no move to take the money, staring at the bills on the table so he didn’t have to look at the person he was trying to hand them to. And that was stupid, too, he knew. He ought to be looking at Teddy right now, ought to be trying to commit their face to memory for when it was gone. But… it seemed cruel to do so. Masochistic. Teddy deserved to be remembered, they’d earned that, but tracing those features and storing them away in his mind would only add another weapon to the arsenal of things his mind would use to hurt him when things got bad. Another body that would rot away in the living room floor of a house Teddy Jones had never even stepped foot in, because whatever was wrong with Emilio didn’t take the actual history of events into account when sending ghosts to haunt him. Jaime was in the floor beside Flora, even though he’d died outside the house. Victor rotted in the same spot as Juliana, even if he’d been dead long before she’d come into Emilio’s life. Teddy would lay bleeding on that dirty carpet even though they told him once that they’d never even been to Mexico. 

There were kinds of hauntings that didn’t take real events into account. There were types of ghosts you couldn’t chase away with an exorcist.

“We don’t have to go,” he said, even though the idea of staying was the most exhausting thing he could imagine. Going would be exhausting, too. Everything was exhausting tonight, like gravity was working overtime and making his limbs heavier than they ought to be, like it was a workout just to lift his finger and tap the table beside where he’d laid out the cash. “Far as I’m concerned, it’s your night. You want to stay, we can stay. You want to go, we can go. Don’t make choices because of what you think I want.”

He looked away as he said it. The mention of tomorrow made that invisible grip on his throat tighten, made his chest ache. It shouldn’t feel like this. It really shouldn’t. A month ago, he hadn’t even liked Teddy. He wouldn’t have cared, then, if they lived or died. He would have shrugged it off, would have gone about his day, would have pretended it didn’t matter even if he probably still would have felt something. (He was incapable of feeling nothing, after all. It had always been his biggest failure. His mother made sure he knew it.) He and Teddy were friends now, sure, but it still shouldn’t feel like this. It shouldn’t be this hard to breathe. Emilio had lost so many people now that he should have been used to it. He should have buried the part of himself that mourned years ago. The fact that he hadn’t, he thought, was what made him such a goddamn disappointment. 

—

The stares stayed longer than perhaps they should. A long drawn out requiem of could-have-been's and possibilities. Things that would probably never come to pass now. Teddy's heart was rattled. Beating in their chest louder than it had ever done when faced with some frightening beast or impossible task. Louder than it had when they had fallen off that roof and Emilio reached out to them. Louder than it had when the hellhound was looking to make both of them its next meal. Louder than on the boat with the vampires, or the roof with Emilio's grief. Louder than in the mines when they were barely themself at all. Whoever that self really even was these days.

Their tab had been long since squared away, and it wasn't like there was anyone in need of personalized goodbye. Teddy was a background fixture at best. Never got too involved in most people's lives. Just ornamentation, set dressing. Made them wonder if it was the same for Emilio too. If he was too kind (in his own way) to just leave Ted to their own devices. 

The man had admitted he didn't hate Teddy. Even if he should. That maybe he also thought of them as a friend. Even when he shouldn't. He said Teddy wasn't making him do anything. But how much of that was guilt? How much was pity? Too many questions that would never get answers. Especially not now. Best to leave it alone. Best not to bother him further. 

"Let's go then. I think I'm… I'm done drinking." They paused briefly before adding a quiet "It's not really helping any." That raspy broken laugh slipped out again and Teddy took their hand back from the spot it still lingered over. Shoved it in their pocket and made for the door. Not one to dilly dally once their mind was set.

A brisk early autumn breeze danced around the demon who was still dressed as if they were ready to go on a tropical vacation rather than deal with fall in New England. They shivered, but maybe it wasn't just from the cold. Everything else was just catching up, exploding outward. The fear and emptiness they'd been staving off with a brave face. Somehow leaving the grand goodbye behind was enough to tap that dam. Enough to break it.

If their heart was loud before, it was deafening now. In the quiet outside the bar, in the emptiness of the night, it was the only thing that accompanied them until the slayer caught up. Not a particularly hard feat considering Teddy stopped dead in their tracks just a few paces out the door. Paled and shaking. Barely a shell of their normal self. Lacking any and all their usual vibrancy. Teddy was terrified. Teddy was heartbroken. They didn't know what to do, didn't know who they were supposed to be in a time like this. They had tried to pretend it was all okay, tried to go out on the town and celebrate one last night but even that was ruined. Because Teddy failed at just about everything they tried, right? 

Emilio didn't want to be there. Emilio couldn't even look at them. He was maybe the only person in the world they wanted to see them right then. He was maybe the only one who could. But Teddy couldn't blame him for not. Couldn't willingly add another burden to the pile of shit life already dealt to the hunter with a heart. 

—

I think I’m done drinking, Teddy said, and there was nothing funny about it but part of Emilio wanted to laugh anyway because he wasn’t. He never was. He still remembered Teddy’s message, back in the midst of all the crystal bullshit. How many bottles have you finished today, detective? They hadn’t meant it. He knew that. They’d been half crazy from the shit in their head, the crystals turning them into something crueler than they’d ever be on their own. They hadn’t meant it, and they never would have said it if not for the outside forces pushing them, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true. 

But the misplaced laughter didn’t bubble up from his chest, didn’t pass his lips. The rest of the world was too heavy tonight. It weighed everything down, made it near-impossible just for the slayer to lift his damn head. Alcohol wasn’t helping, Teddy said, and that, at least, was something Emilio could relate to. Alcohol never helped him, either, no matter how much he tried. He’d pour a gallon of it down his throat in search of numbness, and all it ever gave him was a hangover.

(There was a saying, wasn’t there? About insanity being defined as doing the same thing over and over and over again, expecting the results to be different, somehow. About telling a story from the start and hoping that the ending might change by the time you got there. By those rules, Emilio thought, he was almost certainly insane. He kept drinking, even when he knew it wouldn’t help. He kept giving a shit about people, even when he knew it’d end with them buried in the dirt. There was something almost malicious to it, something unforgivable. When you knew you were the kind of man who got people hurt and you let yourself be around them anyway, it made you responsible for that hurting. It wasn’t the kind of thing that could ever be okay.)

The air outside the bar was cooler than it should have been, though Emilio tended to think that about most air in Maine. His tendency to get cold easier than most wasn’t something he spoke of often, though if someone were paying attention they might notice the way his shoulders hunched in the wind, or the way he wore a jacket most of the time despite the summer months. He shrugged it off now, clenching his teeth against the too-brisk air as he wordlessly thrust it out towards Teddy, who was dressed like they were going to the beach in July. 

His bad leg ached, though he wasn’t sure how much of it was real pain and how much was phantom. Maybe it was all the latter; maybe his body was attempting to assign something physical to the ache in his chest that came without cause, or the way his throat felt tight. He should have had more to drink, he thought. The hand holding the jacket was trembling just enough to be noticeable, and whiskey usually went a long way towards steadying it. It didn’t used to. He thought about that, sometimes. The man he used to be never shook, never hesitated. The man he was now couldn’t seem to stop.

It was clear that he wasn’t the only one aching. Teddy looked like they were in a bad spot, stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Emilio wanted to ask if they were okay, but he was afraid of the answer. He wanted to ask what he could do to help, but he was afraid they’d ask him to look at them, to talk about it. Neither of those things were ones he knew how to do. Looking at them and knowing that this would likely be the last time he ever did wasn’t a tempting offer, and talking wasn’t among his limited skillset. After all, what was there to say? I’m sorry you’re going to die. I’m sorry someone took you and twisted you into something you weren’t meant to be just to twist you back the other way in the end. I’m sorry Leviathan wasn’t a very good father. I wasn’t a very good father, either. I’m sorry it’s a hard thing to be. 

None of it would mean anything. Apologies, Emilio knew from experience, were never anything more than empty words. They didn’t do a thing to combat the grief, didn’t do anything to ease the ache. It was why he preferred anger to mourning, why he liked punching things more than he liked talking to them. When your knuckles were bruised and bloody, at least it gave you something else to feel. 

“Do you want to go home?” He asked the question carefully, enunciating each word slowly, trying to keep his accent from curling too tightly around the syllables. Teddy didn’t speak Spanish, and Emilio could barely keep up with English most days, but he wanted to try to make sure he was understood. It was a rare thing for a man who never felt like much of a man at all, for a person who knew he was far better as a weapon, but Teddy deserved it tonight. If this was the last night they got, Emilio at least owed it to them to make it a decent one. 

—

The hollow chasm that stood in place where Teddy had once been barely noticed the man coming up behind them. Wouldn’t have seen him at all until the jacket came into their field of view. Dark, dusty. Old leather, practical and worn. Perhaps one of the best kept things that Emilio owned. Ted’s trembling hands grasped it reverently. Not like a shelter from the cold, but like a lifeline. Keeping them on this edge of the void. It slipped on easily, Emilio was taller and broader after all. The old coat hung off of the quiet demon like a blanket, rather than the lifesaving armor it provided the slayer through years of battles that he shouldn’t have had to face. 

The scent hit next. Surrounding Teddy, filling them up. Bridging the gap that had grown between them and Emilio all throughout the night. Idle fingers rubbed circles on the leather, while they just kept breathing in that smell. Old smoke. Tinges of iron. Cheap soap, and something else. Something that made such foreign feelings well up from inside their chest, filling it to bursting. Bringing a shimmer to their eyes and a big fat frog to their throat. 

“Emilio I–” Tight, claustrophobic words. An imbalanced perch on a daunting cliffside. Teddy turned, facing him, extending a hand. Holding his. In a way it was an answer to his question. Yes. They wanted to go home. But home wasn’t so much of a place anymore. “I need you to know that I–” Their eyes met, just for a second. They were far too close. Could feel their breath bouncing back in the cool night air. “I uh–” That same breath hitched. Caught in a web of fear and apprehension. Seeing his expression dealt a deadly blow to their resolve. Brought back the concern from earlier. The grief already etched into those features. Those big brown eyes and all the heaviness they carried. It wasn’t fair. 

“I’m… Canadian.” 

Cowardice, Kindness. 

Which was it? 

They couldn’t go through with whatever confession was about to erupt out of them. Couldn’t cross that divide. A panicked response to whatever it was they were feeling, knowing it would only add hurt. Shame. Pain. Telling Emilio now wouldn’t do anyone any good. Better to admit something silly. Make it a joke. Wasn’t that all their life was anyway? Teddy bit their tongue and flashed a smile. One big cosmic punchline, the sacrifice who became a demon. Only to be stripped back when it was convenient.

—

They took the jacket and slipped it on, and Emilio let himself believe that was a good thing. He let himself think that it made something resembling a difference, let himself pretend that the cold was the biggest thing on Teddy’s mind. It wasn’t, and he knew that. The jacket wouldn’t do shit against the thoughts in Teddy’s head, or the fear that was doubtlessly swirling in their chest. The jacket wouldn’t do anything to save them when that ritual Levi was planning went the only way it was ever going to go. The jacket, much like the man who owned it, was fucking useless in the grand scheme of things. But Teddy took it and, for a fraction of a heartbeat, Emilio let himself pretend it mattered. Let himself pretend anything did.

He felt a little naked without it, in spite of everything. He rarely ever took it off, even in the warmer months. It was a security blanket, a shield. Without its familiar weight resting on his shoulders, he felt bare. His thumb fiddled with his wedding ring, and Teddy wasn’t looking at his hands but he was glad for the leather cuff on his wrist that covered the tattoo of his daughter’s name, anyway. And then came the guilt, of course, for that relief. It was an endless cycle — he was relieved, he was guilty, he was both over and over and over again. There was never any room for anything else.

Teddy spoke, a jumbled mess. Emilio still started at the sound of his first name from the demon’s lips, at the way they made it sound. Like something to hold instead of something to bury, like a thing worth keeping around for more than just the blood it would spill. They were trying to say something, their eyes on him, and he forced himself to look up, forced himself to meet their eyes even though it ached, even though he’d rather look anywhere else. 

He wasn’t bad at reading people. It was a necessary skill as both a slayer and a detective, after all. But in both professions, the pages you read were different than the ones Teddy was projecting here. Emilio knew how to look at someone and know if they were about to lunge for his throat, knew how to dodge a punch a moment before it was thrown. He didn’t know how to look into Teddy’s eyes and understand the depth of grief there, didn’t know how to untangle the web of emotion that was etched across the demon’s face. What were they grieving? Themself, their own life? Their relationship with their father, which was doubtlessly beyond damaged now? Or something else entirely? 

When they spoke, it was clear that the words weren’t what they wanted to say. Emilio wondered if he should push, but was too much of a coward to really consider doing so. He looked away again, Teddy’s hand feeling heavy where it gripped his. He tucked his free hand into his pocket, still twisting that ring on his finger. 

(How many people could you fail to save before death finally felt merciful enough to take you? Emilio never meant to be the man in charge of answering that question, but here he was anyway with the world looking to him with bated breath. One more, it seemed to say. Add it to the tally. He wished he didn’t have to..)

“I don’t think I can get you to Canada,” he said, voice flat even though he’d meant it as a joke. “I figured I’d just walk you back to your deathtrap of a boat. Seems more manageable.” 

—

The first bark of laughter rolled through Teddy with such surprises and force that it almost appeared as if they'd been hit with some unseen force. More followed of course, crinkling the demon's face into an expression twisted somewhere between joy and pain. Their laughs carried them forward, bid their head to come to a rest on Emilio's shoulder. An unearned position that Teddy had no right to assume. 

But they'd been taught their whole life to just take what they wanted, hadn't they? Still it seemed unfair, especially when Emilio had been pulling such distance all night. That must have been why Ted's stomach seemed to drop, and their chest felt like it was filled with helium when they realized how close they were now. Just like the beach. 

Emilio's steady keel perfectly reflected the opposite of Teddy's chaotic nature. In a way, it made them comfortable. For all intents and purposes it shouldn't. Emilio was a slayer, a private eye, and he'd hated them for so long. They thought they hated him too. When had that changed? When had the man become such a source of comfort rather than ire or intense fascination? 

Teddy didn't know. 

The only thing they really did understand was how the flat sense of humor struck them in just the right way to pull them out of their mind. Back to the present instead of some nightmarish mix of all possible futures and every perceived failure in their past. 

"Yeah, yeah. Canada is a bit far for tonight." Especially Vancouver where Teddy came into this world. Their head finally listened to the rest of their body, lifted up and away from the slayer's shoulder. "Boat's a good second. I'll take it."

—

Teddy was laughing and, somehow, Emilio felt as if he’d done something wrong. The laughter felt so unnatural, paired so strangely with the heaviness that seemed to hang over them both. He almost wanted to ask them to stop, but he was so afraid of what might take that laughter’s place. He wasn’t someone who understood the emotions of others; he hardly understood his own feelings. The only one he’d ever been good at was rage, and he’d never seen Teddy express that. Not even when it was deserved, not even when he’d earned it. Teddy should have been angry with him on the roof of Joy’s warehouse, but they weren’t. Teddy should have been furious with him in that alley with the hellhound, and they’d saved him instead. In the boat with the vampire, on the roof of his building, in their boat with the crystals coursing through them… Just about every time he’d come into contact with Teddy, he’d done something that should have pissed them off, but it never did. It was strange. It felt like walking on eggshells that refused to break. He stomped his feet to shatter them, because it was better to have some control over it, but they held fast every time. 

Their head rested against his shoulder, and Emilio tensed a little but made no move to pull away. And that was selfish, wasn’t it? Letting Teddy rest their head on a shoulder that had never done much good with the arm attached to it, letting them seek comfort from a body that was little more than a weapon that had never worked quite right… He should point them in another direction, should show them to someone who’d do them some good instead of letting them rest their head against something useless. All Teddy wanted was something to lean against, but all Emilio had ever done was fall. He wasn’t steady enough to give anyone any kind of foundation. He’d let down everyone who’d ever tried to build something out of the sands that made up his worthless body.

After an amount of time that was somehow both too long and too short, they lifted their head. They spoke in the same lighthearted tone they always did, the same confusing lack of anger in their voice. Didn’t they know that Emilio deserved it? Didn’t they understand that he always had? A less selfish man might have told them so, might have admitted to being the useless thing he always had been, but Emilio couldn’t bring himself to say it. Teddy thought he was something he wasn’t, but Teddy would be gone soon, anyway. What was the harm, then? What damage could be done? Whatever was here was already built on sand, doomed to be washed away with the morning tide. Teddy didn’t have enough time to find a steadier thing to lean on, anyway, so why not let them rest their head on his worthless shoulder? 

“You know I hate that boat,” he griped, but there was a faint fondness to it that had never been present before. Anyone who didn’t know him might have missed it entirely. He was surprised to find that he expected Teddy would catch it. He put a hand at the demon’s back, leading them off. “If it sinks with me on it, I’m gonna be fucking pissed, man.”

—

Time had always been an abstract concept to Teddy Jones. Too much, too little. Always slipping past before they could really grasp onto it. As far as they were concerned, living in the moment was the only way to stay moderately sane. To find a modicum of happiness in a world so hellbent on ripping it to shreds. Somehow, somehow, they had been able to find it here. In the unlikeliest of places, with the unlikeliest of people. A softer, more genuine smile slipped in. Once again they found themself staring. Seeing Emilio in a way he’d never been able to conceive of himself as. Something beautiful, something worth the whole fucking world. The whole damn universe.

If this was Teddy’s last night on earth, they were glad to be spending it with him. 

“Oh you love it. That boat has our fondest memories. It’s like a relic at this point. Practically a person. She does have a name you know.” All boats deserved names. Teddy’s was held near and dear to their heart. But then again, they had a long standing habit of assigning personalities to inanimate objects. Pretty much since they were a kid, since Levi often went off on ‘business ventures’ and left the young demon to fend for themself. Other kids didn’t always take a shine to the strange little sprite. So they made their own adventures. Made up their own friends. Some were toys, some were places. 

If Emilio could hear the inner monologue, he’d probably go off on how Teddy only liked him because he was some in-personal thing, just like a boat, just like a toy. A tool and not a man! He’d say, with much less dramatic flare than Ted assigned his voice in their head. But that wasn’t the case. There was a whole world inside of the slayer. So little he showed on the surface, far less he let himself see down below. He had a dry sense of humor that Teddy found hilarious. Always picking just the right wrong thing to point out, managing to surprise them and send a laugh rolling through their chest. He was a steady rock when he needed to be, even if it was hard for him to do so. He’d tear the world down for those he decided were his responsibility. Held them tight and fought for them. Wasn’t just around when things were light, when they were fun. He stood close, and he cared so fucking much. Harder than anyone Teddy ever met before. 

There were a lot of things to like about Emilio Cortez. 

And Teddy was realizing just how much they would fight to prove it. 

Something clicked in their mind, looking at him. Illuminated by the halogen halo of the streetlamps. They’d been going about this research all wrong. Their expression shifted, from a dopey little lovesick puppy to a determination they had been lacking since the conversation with their father. If they were going to survive this, it couldn’t just be about severing the connections that existed. Destroying the tether. It had to be about weaving a safety net to fall back on. An anchor to the world that Leviathan was leaving.

To the world that Teddy realized just how much they wanted to stay a part of. 

— 

“Does fond mean something I don’t know about in English? I almost bled out in that terrible boat.” As if bleeding out was something that would have bothered him, as if he hadn’t almost bled out in every room he’d ever slept in for more than a night. In a way, spilling blood on Teddy’s bed had done something to make Emilio feel more at ease there, as if christening a place with his blood made it into something sacred, as if there was anything holy about the red in his veins. There was nothing about him that was holy; there never had been. But Teddy saw him as a sturdy thing to lean upon, and they’d be dead soon, anyway, so he might as well let them. The fall couldn’t hurt them if they were already going to die.

It said a lot about him, he thought, that there was almost some relief to it now. When you spent as much time as Emilio did just waiting for the other shoe to drop, there was something akin to comfort in the way it ground you beneath its heal. He’d be crushed, be shattered, be broken into a thousand goddamn pieces, but at least it’d be over. There was relief to be found in the end of something. You couldn’t start rebuilding until after you’d been torn down, after all. But feeling that way about someone’s impending doom — about your friend’s impending doom… It said a lot about a person. And nothing that it said was good. 

None of that was anything of a surprise, of course. Emilio knew he wasn’t a good man. People who didn’t know him as well might claim otherwise — Gael, Zane, even Teddy themself — but that didn’t make it true. Actions, his mother taught him, meant so much more than words did. There used to be comfort in that, because he was so bad at words. But, as he was learning, he wasn’t much better at actions. Actions spoke louder than words, and so few of Emilio’s actions were redeemable things. So little of him was worth saving.

The quiet stretched on, and Emilio both loved and hated it. He liked quiet, relished in it, but this one felt wrong. Teddy was so rarely silent, after all. This felt like an uncomfortable sneak peek of what the world would be like once they were no longer in it. So, uncharacteristically, Emilio chose to break that silence. “You’d better have whiskey in that shithole this time,” he warned. “Not stepping onto a boat if I’ve gotta do it half sober.” It would make Teddy say something, he knew. My boat is extra special and enhanced and it’ll make you drunk just by being there, or something just as ridiculous that would somehow turn out to be true. They were good at things like that.

—

An electric energy flooded through the demon’s veins in a way it hadn’t in weeks, maybe longer. Maybe it’d been years, maybe forever. The change was immediate and drastic, consuming all of Teddy’s attention. Their smile grew, their chest felt lighter than a cloud. Lifting and swelling with the sudden brightness. Teddy probably looked manic, half insane but mad with delight. A giggle on their lips helped to ease away the excess of air in their lungs as they continued to look upon him. Big brown eyes widened further, still staring at Emilio but this time like he was the answer. Because he was the answer.

“Oh you big beautiful idiot–” A surge of excitement overwhelmed the demon. Giddy and delirious with idealism, Teddy rushed to wrap their arms around the man. Squeezing him far tighter than they probably should have. Inhaling the familiar scent, pressing their head up against his right until they turned and for the second time ever, in a moment of intense euphoria, planted a smooch upon his cheek. “–You may have just saved my goddamn life.” 

Confusing? Probably. But Teddy’s elation couldn’t be stopped. It bubbled and frothed and pushed over the edge of the shore, like a storm surge. Hitting in waves and firing off impulses that they weren’t ever prepared to contain. Emilio hardly saw himself a savior, and likely wouldn’t understand the demon’s reasoning. But that didn’t make it untrue. No one else could have pulled this from the depths of… whatever was left inside of Teddy Jones’s soul. They’d been walking so blindly towards the inevitable, like it couldn’t be changed. Like it was a set fact. Carved into an old granite headstone, ready for the graveyard. 

But it wasn’t. 

They weren’t doomed, and it all hinged on the fact that Teddy wanted to stick around. Wanted to be close to Emilio. In whatever way they could. In whatever way the slayer would let them. They took his hand and started rushing in a direction decidedly away from Emilio’s car. Away from Harborside. Not stopping to explain because the ideas in their head swirled too quickly to make any sentence sound remotely coherent. 

They didn’t stop either, not until they were just outside the (now nearly empty) store. Mephisto’s Repository. Even with the way Leviathan had been practically giving everything away, there were some useful hidden goodies among those walls. Teddy unlocked the door and slid inside, beckoning Emilio to follow. Still keeping the air of mystery in their breathless enthusiasm. 

“Okay. We’re here.” 

—

The laughter was there again, but it didn’t feel as suffocating now, didn’t feel as unnatural. Emilio felt less like he’d done something wrong and more like he’d accomplished something worth accomplishing, though he had no idea what it was that he’d done. His chest still felt tight, like there was something just outside of it trying to claw its way in, or something on the inside desperate to get out. He couldn’t tell which, couldn’t comprehend why the difference between two complete opposites was something that was so impossible to puzzle out.

His brow furrowed as Teddy spoke again, the confusion etched into his features doing very little to overcome the idiot allegations. At least there was a beautiful tacked on there, he guessed. A compliment in the way only Teddy could deliver them. For some reason, it eased some of that tightness in his chest. “What? No. I didn’t do anything.” Because for Emilio, the only way to save any lives always left him trembling with blood on his hands. He couldn’t fathom any kind of alternative, couldn’t come up with any way to save anything that didn’t involve destroying something else. 

The confusion stuck with him as he followed Teddy like a lost dog, hardly aware of where they were going. He let himself move on autopilot in a way he usually wouldn’t have, let his thoughts dwindle down while his feet moved of their own accord, trailing behind someone he hadn’t realized he trusted until it was too late to do anything about it. He’d assumed they were heading for the boat. It was what they’d talked about, after all, what they’d discussed. But when he slowed, they were standing in front of Levi’s shop instead, and Emilio’s confusion only grew.

“This isn’t your boat,” he said, as if that were a thing that needed saying. Teddy probably knew that this wasn’t their boat. “Teds, you’re gonna have to catch me up here. The hell are we doing?” He paused for a moment. “We breaking into your dad’s store to, uh, break shit?”

—

"It's not breaking in if you have a key, and no. We're here–" Teddy's grin twisted into a determined expression of searching. Tongue out, brows lowered, a dog on the hunt. Almost everything inside the store was boxed up, ready to be tossed out or left to the unlucky next owner of this storefront. But that wasn't what Teddy was after. None of the things sold in the shop at all. 

The demon had spent a good portion of the last three years here. Whenever they weren't going off and trying whatever job seemed interesting on that particular day. Almost all those experiments left traces. Trinkets. When it wasn't a job, it was a new hobby. Things picked up with every intention of making that their new thing. Only to be shoved in another box within the month, just as soon as Teddy wasn't perfect at first try. 

"Ah!" After rummaging through a locked part of the old countertop, Teddy pulled out a small black box. From inside that, they pulled out something that kind of looked like one of those fancy vape cartridges. Vaguely pen shaped, but a bit too bulky. Their smile returned, somehow more mischievous than before. 

"We're here cause you're gonna give me a tattoo." 

—

“We could still break a window or something, if you wanted,” Emilio mumbled, shrugging a shoulder. He didn’t know if that would help Teddy. Destruction always made him feel a bit better, but… Teddy wasn’t like him. They’d proven that time and time again, in all the best ways. Teddy wasn’t like him, which was why they were so infuriatingly difficult to hate. If they’d been more like Emilio, hating them would have been a lot easier to do.

As it was, the slayer only followed the demon into the store. Around the boxes, kicking a few absently as he passed them. Levi wouldn’t have left anything important in here, he knew; he doubted Levi cared about much of anything at all, given the plan it was hatching. It had already moved on to the next life in everything but the physical sense. 

Teddy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, and Emilio walked over to lean against the counter and inspect the box the demon had pulled out. It was… familiar, though not something he’d used before. The tattoos that covered his body meant that the hunter had seen the tools used to put them there more than once. Flora’s name itched beneath the leather band on his wrist, and Emilio rested his opposite hand against it absently, glancing to Teddy as they spoke again and trying to determine whether or not they were kidding. “You know I’m not an artist, right? Don’t think getting a tattoo from me is a very good idea.”

—

"I think it's the best idea." Teddy already started setting up the machine. All the bits and bobs in their perfect place. They were silent for a moment, focused. Far deeper in thought than Emilio had ever seen them. It was like they were running the numbers. Doing some mental gymnastics making sure the ideas in their head matched up with the strange plan they already had for the ritual. There were so many loose ends, so much room for catastrophic error.

This tattoo would cap them. Soothe the frayed edges and help it go as smoothly as possible. It would save Teddy because it would give them something to hold on to. Unfortunately it was a bit harder to explain that to him than just to think it. 

"It doesn't have to be perfect, it just needs to… be you." Teddy stopped fidgeting with the machine long enough to look up, to catch the confused glint in Emilio's eyes. To look over his features as something like concern etched lines over his brows. "Not literally of you, but something that will remind me that– that there's someone in my corner. Someone who probably shouldn't, but still does, against all odds, care about me. As me. That there's someone out there I care about. As himself." The words didn't and couldn't feel right. They didn't carry the weight nor depth that Teddy felt behind them. Nor did they express the lightness that just looking at Emilio tended to bloom inside of them. 

"I think it has to be you, because–" their throat tightened, the sentiment too tough to get out, to speak properly. "Because you're the one who makes me want to stay. To live." To love was left out. Hanging in the air where Teddy was still too much of a coward to admit. Where they felt they had no right to be. "Best friends, right? I said no take-backs. Guess that means I can't go dying on you either." 

—

“You’re bad at ideas,” Emilio deadpanned. “If you think it’s a good idea, that means it’s a bad one.” Months ago, the words would have carried more heat behind them, but now? After everything? They were more fond than anything. An exasperated fondness, granted — he still had no idea why Teddy found the idea of Emilio permanently marking their body to be a good one — but a fondness all the same.

The slayer leaned against the counter, watched Teddy with a curiosity. He’d never seen them quite like this, but… that wasn’t surprising, was it? People revealed themselves more when they were doomed. He’d seen it a thousand times before. Usually, he saw it when he was holding a knife, a stake. It was different seeing it in a moment of quiet. It felt more personal, more suffocating. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

Teddy looked at him as they explained and, somehow, the explanation muddied the waters even more. Not because he didn’t understand what Teddy was saying, not even because he didn’t understand why. No, it was the how of it that was stumping him now. How could Emilio represent something that Teddy wanted in their life? How could Emilio in their corner be a strengthening show of force instead of a useless trinket? Emilio caring about them shouldn’t be a comfort, it should be a warning sign. A blinking neon light that drove home the fact that they weren’t making it out of this alive, because no one ever did. All Emilio ever did was fail.

And all Teddy wanted him to do was try anyway.

Emilio swallowed. He didn’t consciously register his decision to reach out a hand until the tattoo gun was resting in his grip, clumsy and unfamiliar. He held it like a knife, brandishing it with hands unused to holding anything not designed to hurt. “You did say that,” he agreed, mouth dry. Teddy did say it. But why? They weren’t stupid, despite what Emilio’s first impression of them might have been. They knew what he was. And they still wanted him around. They still wanted to be around him. Enough to think that a tattoo he put onto their body would mean something. 

Maybe it was enough that they thought it mattered. If nothing else, maybe it’d give them comfort. Emilio couldn’t keep them safe any more than he had Juliana, but maybe he could give Teddy something he hadn’t given his wife, in the end — an ally. 

Determination replaced the apprehensive confusion on his face, and he set his jaw in a stubborn line familiar to anyone who knew him. “Where do you want it?”

—

Somewhere along the line, the slayer's expressions had shifted. Evolving from utter disdain to a bitter resentment, to begrudging acceptance, to this gentle fondness that Teddy just couldn't get enough of. It felt earned, even if Teds wasn't too sure how they had earned it. It's the same way it felt better to have a grumpy old cat start to like you. Like winning the lottery. All they knew now was that there was an endless list of things they'd do to bring it out again. If they could make that man smile, well that'd be a whole new lease on life, wouldn't it? 

"Somewhere very visible. I gotta be able to see it easily. There's…probably gonna be a lot of distractions during the ritual. I gotta have a focus point." Teddy scanned the counter, decided it was good enough of a place as anything. Just had to sweep off anything unimportant, and give it a quick wipe down. They laid their forearm down. Left. Bare and ready as anything to be a canvas.

"Hey look, you finally get to stab me." Emilio's determination was contagious. Gave a righteous bolstering to Teddy's resolve. It wasn't like they were scared of a tattoo, that was the last thing on their mind. But the symbolism, the permanence. That was a bit more trepidatious. Uncharted territory for the transient king of leaving or being left behind. "That thing runs about a hundred jabs a second, almost as good at you." 

All of a sudden it didn't feel like they were standing at the edge of the abyss. The canyon that stretched out before them was suddenly crossable. Sure the way was dangerous, sure it terrified them to their core, but they had a bridge now. They'd be able to make it. Which meant here and now was for friendship. For making memories to hold on to rather than goodbyes to let drift away. They could joke without feeling like there was a knife to their throat. They could laugh and breathe like the air in their lungs wasn't made of poison. 

Teddy Jones was great at ideas, and this one was going to work.

—

Somewhere visible. The tattoo under the leather cuff on Emilio’s wrist seemed to itch at the words, like it was trying to be seen in spite of his efforts to hide it. When he’d had his daughter’s name etched into his skin, he’d never imagined it would become her tombstone. He wondered if that was what he was doing for Teddy now, too. If the ink he marked their skin with would only serve to decorate their corpse when Leviathan’s ritual killed them, then what was the point behind it? What did it matter at all? 

But Teddy was asking. They were looking at him with an expression he understood better than he’d thought he might, certainty clear in the set of their jaw and the hardness behind their eyes. They were asking him for something, and they were sure they wanted it. So how could Emilio say no? Their arm was on the counter, spread out like a canvas to a man who’d never once held a paintbrush. It was a bad idea, he didn’t understand what was the be accomplished by it, but they wanted it and they were asking him and who was he to turn away from that.

So, with a roll of his eyes, Emilio nodded. “Not as much fun when a machine is doing the stabbing,” he said dryly, as if there was any part of him that wanted to stab Teddy. There had been once, of course — his number one problem solving method had always involved a sharp object — but that was over and done with now. Teddy was his friend, somehow or another. And Emilio wanted to… to honor that, if he could.

The tattoo gun felt unfamiliar in his hand, still. The list of sharp things he’d never been taught how to hold was short, but this was definitely on it. He moved forward with it anyway, pressed the needle to Teddy’s skin and started it up. It had to be something simple, of course. Emilio wasn’t anything resembling an artist, and even if he were, he had no model to work from and very little ability to call objects from memory. But there were things he’d know blind, and that was what Teddy wanted, wasn’t it? A reminder. 

The lines were shaky and uneven, but the shape was undeniable. A few lines here, another there, and it shaped up into something more obvious. When Emilio finally pulled the tattoo gun back, it didn’t look bad. Not like a professional had done it, but not like it had been etched in by a drunk with a blindfold, either. In any case, one could tell what it was — a simple wooden stake, stretching from the crook of Teddy’s elbow to just above their wrist. Easy for the owner of the arm to look down on it… and, hopefully, easy to remind them of what they wanted to be reminded of. 

“There,” Emilio said, leaning back after one last final touch. “Is that… okay?”

—

"It's–" At first, Teddy had been torn between wanting the final reveal to be a surprise, and wanting to watch him work. As time went on, they found their eyes lingering more on the way his curls fell, the way his cheeks and brows looked from this angle. It was a new one. Something almost… reverent. Emilio was far closer than he'd ever been, literally holding their arm for the entire time it took to carve out the design. And he did take his time, because of course he did. He understood the weight behind the assignment, even if he didn't quite comprehend the material. 

It hadn't actually been that hard to keep their eyes off the design in the end. There was something far more beautiful to look at right there. It kept the joy in the reveal, the flush of relief and wonder as they followed the fresh cherry black lines. "It's–" at a loss for words. That was a first now, wasn't it? Teddy was in awe. It couldn't have gone better if they had planned this for weeks, for years. 

A wooden stake. A symbol of protection, of Emilio's upbringing. Something that could take down a vampire, yes, but it could also be used to build. Hold down a tent, join two wooden beams to construct a home. It was a weapon first in the eyes of those who saw the world as something to fight. But with a little creativity, with a little time and a little effort, it was something that could keep everything else together. 

Teddy's gaze followed the lines outward, trailing up from the pointed tip to the artist behind the most important piece to grant grace to the demon's skin. Their eyes focused in on Emilio's. A ghosted smile parted their lips to speak, but their breath caught in their chest for one more long lingering moment. 

"It's perfect. You're perfect. I could kiss you Emilio." I want to. Not just on his cheek, either. Teddy ached with it, the sudden realization doing very little to slow the drum threatening to burst from their ribs. Slowly, slowly they leaned forward. Ignoring all the warning signs and alarm bells, because what else could be making all that noise in their mind? They inched closer, closer, closer… and chickened out. A brief glimpse of the glint off Emilio's wedding ring was all it took. A hollow reminder that this was probably one sided. That it was still unfair. They were friends. Nothing more.

Teddy shifted, tilted their head and found it resting on Emilio's shoulder. Albeit strained from the fact that the demon was stretching themself over the counter to even get there. "Thank you."

—

Teddy was rendered speechless for the first time since Emilio had known them and, for a moment, he was sure that it was a bad thing. That he’d made a mistake, that he’d read this wrong and fucked everything up because that was what he was good at, wasn’t it? Handling situations the wrong way, tearing things apart before they were finished being built to begin with. He braced himself for anger — or for disappointment, which seemed worse somehow, even if it never had before.

Instead, Teddy relaxed. They smiled, small but undeniably present, they looked at the design, careful as he’d been able to make it yet undeniably amateur all the same, as if it were something on the walls of an art museum, ancient and framed. Emilio shifted, looking down at the tattoo, at his own hands. He tried to see whatever it was Teddy saw there, but he came up short. The lines were jagged and uneven. The hands were rough and never as still as they used to be. Neither seemed worth anything substantial, but Teddy marveled at them both all the same. There was something heavy about it, some unknown weight to being seen.

Teddy thought it was perfect. Thought he was perfect, and the words were so unexpected that they drew a laugh from between the slayer’s lips. He’d never been perfect, and no one had ever mistaken him for such. His mother viewed him as a hodgepodge of things that needed fixing, his wife as something she loved but still needed to maintain, his siblings as a quiet disappointment. Maybe Flora, in her innocence, had seen her father as something infallible, but she’d been proven wrong in the end, hadn’t she? Teddy would be, too. Tomorrow, when the ritual went the way it was always going to go and that stake on their arm did nothing more to protect them than the one in Emilio’s hand had to protect Flora, they’d change their mind about him. They’d have to.

They continued in the same breath, and the laugh turned into a choked off noise as the air in his lungs seemed to vanish. I could kiss you. His mouth went dry, throat aching with something he recognized as want. And that — was that new? Had his heart been pounding this whole time, or had it only just started? Teddy leaned in closer, and Emilio stared at them wide-eyed, wondering what the endgame was. A joke, he thought. Knowing Teddy, it must have been some kind of a joke. Like the lips brushing his cheek in that mine only to turn and do the same to Levi and Nora. This was how Teddy was — loud and unashamed, flirting with anyone who’d look at them twice because they didn’t think they existed if no one was looking at them. Part of Emilio wanted to shake them for it, wanted to tell them that he wasn’t going to look away just because they stopped pretending he was something they might want more than they did. 

Disappointment tasted like sand on his tongue as they seemed to correct course, resting their head on his shoulder instead. He shifted, patting their head with his hand, ring still glinting in the dull light of the shop. Around his neck, the one that used to sit on Juliana’s finger hung beneath his shirt, brushing his chest and reminding him that Teddy was better off, anyway. Tomorrow, what happened would happen. They probably wouldn’t come back from it. But wouldn’t it have only happened sooner if they’d been closer? It seemed Teddy’s bout of bad luck — the mines, the ritual, all of it — only happened when they’d decided to admit that they didn’t hate Emilio as much as he’d assumed they had. And that couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? With the exception of Rhett, who might very well hate him now, everyone who’d cared for Emilio was gone now. Maybe the best protection he could offer anyone was ensuring no one else was added to the list.

“Ought to charge you for it,” he said, pretending there wasn’t a heaviness to his voice, a thickness. “But I’ll give you this one for free. Next time, you’ll have to pay me.” 

—

"Yeah well, now there will be a next time." Teddy responded. Resolute, determined. Against everything their body was screaming for, they lifted their head. If only so they could round the corner of the counter and give the man a proper hug. "Just you wait. It's gonna be okay." There was a confidence there that Teddy often pretended to have, but now displayed in earnest. Like they could wade into the ocean and reverse the tide just because Emilio was there. By their side. Hand in hand. 

And he'd always be there now. Teds could hold their arm across their chest and imagine it was him. Could keep the fantasy alive in their mind even if it was obvious Emilio still held those kinds of feelings for someone else. Someone Teddy wasn't sure was even around anymore. And maybe that was better. It was easier to pretend they weren't hurting anyone with these foolish and childish emotions. For exactly none of the reasons Emilio might expect, they were Teddy's knight in shining armor. How could they not… 

"Now, I have a very comfortable bed I would very much like to crash on. Shall we?"

—

Teddy was telling him it was going to be okay, and there was something almost laughable about that. They were the one walking to the gallows tomorrow, not Emilio. He should be the one offering words of encouragement, of comfort, but he’d never learned how to do that. No one ever taught him how to make someone feel better with words or with actions. He was a weapon built to hurt, not a salve designed to soothe. He’d always known that. He rarely felt as shitty about it as he did now. “Yeah,” he agreed, even if he didn’t feel it. “It will.” It was a lie, but weren’t some lies worth telling? Wasn’t there comfort to be found in them sometimes? Let Teddy have the lie. Let them cling to it. It wasn’t hurting anyone.

Teddy pulled back, and Emilio had only a moment to miss the weight of their head on his shoulder before they were circling around the counter and wrapping their arms around him. His first instinct, as always, was to stiffen. There was a moment where his whole body tensed at the unfamiliarness of the embrace, but after a heartbeat, he relaxed into it. He brought a hand up to pat their back uncertainly, not sure if it was to comfort them or himself. 

It ended before he wanted it to, and there was something strange about that. It was odd, it was unexpected, it didn’t sit quite right. But he huffed a laugh all the same, shaking his head. “No way I’ll get any rest in that boat,” he complained, “but I don’t mind coming along.” 

Tomorrow, Teddy would probably be dead and whatever Emilio was feeling would give way to the inky black emptiness that always overtook him in the end. But tonight, they were still breathing. His jacket hung from their shoulders, still, and he’d put a piece of himself on their arm. And it wouldn’t save them — Emilio had never been enough to save anyone — but it might make them feel better for a while. Maybe that was still worth something.

[russburlingame]

The Strikes, and How the Studios Created This Mess On Purpose

A rant I made on Bluesky the other day:

Here's the thing about Hollywood's payment system: it was working for everybody, and executives saw streaming as a way to fuck everyone else over and make it work exclusively for them. Because that's what executives do. And they convinced everyone to take a bad deal to "test out" the new system.

Then, they threw everything into streaming and, in doing so, eviscerated traditional revenue streams like reruns and home video, both of which had better deals for talent. And they were hoodwinked by tech bros who convinced them the path to profitability was MUCH shorter than it is.

Now those execs, who went all in on streaming SPECIFICALLY as a predatory scheme to take more money, are crying poverty because they say it's a losing proposition. And they want people to take a bad deal to underwrite their recovery from self-inflicted wounds.

But at this point, the talent have been living with the previous bad deal for so long a lot of people are being starved out of the industry. So they strike for a fair deal, and what do execs say? "We're going to starve them for this!" You complete fucking CHUDs, what did you think you did before?

Okay, sorry. Got a little off-track there.

Yeah, numbers for streaming are ROUGH. Just like basically every tech startup in the last 15 years, most streamers are nowhere near profitable and living on the largesse of VC money with the promise that if they decimate the market enough that they're the only option, they'll start to make money...but that's really hard for your employees to believe or sympathize with, when they have seen you dump hundreds of millions of dollars into it for a decade. Executives insist they're the smart ones. Why would they throw good money after bad for YEARS?

Meanwhile, stockholders and VC douchebros have been rewarding the gamble for years, living on promises of "we'll be profitable soon" and approving massive CEO pay packages to reward them for finding a way to pay the talent less.

This is all exacerbated by the long history of "Hollywood accounting." Long before the strikes were happening, Ed Solomon was tweeting about the HIGH-larious joke Sony has been playing on talent for years that insists they somehow lost money on 'Men in Black' and so don't owe any residuals.

So when you see companies pouring tons of money into a system, and executives being handsomely rewarded for that system, but you aren't getting paid? Well, it's hard to believe it isn't profitable. After all, these same companies have said for years theaters aren't profitable. VHS isn't. DVD isn't.

This history of obscuring the numbers so that those at the top can sneak away with an ever-growing slice of the pie is epitomized by streamers that refuse to give anyone ANY kind of clarity when it comes to their numbers. There's only one reason to hide that kind of data, and people know it.

I think this is the end of my rant for now. I just feel like one of the things reporters have not done well is communicating clearly what's going on, and why they should care about white collar workers striking. The answer for me is, they're striking against employers who are stealing them blind.

[ladyfly]

I'll Be Seeing You pt1

Instead of Mom or Dad, You are called Nibi by your robot children. Also, you are a werewolf in this.

     The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead. The chair you were sitting in is cold and uncomfortable. In front of you is a table with a computer. It's showing a live feed of Parts and Service. The steely-eyed woman in front of you frowns at you.

She crosses her arms "Did you really think we would not find out about your relationship with the attendant?"

A young-looking person appears on the screen. They are followed by four men carrying a shutdown Sun and a shutdown Moon. They are each placed on a table.

The woman smirks coldly at you "We will harvest them for parts and destroy them. As of now, you are fired!"

You keep your mouth shut. Beside you is a man with a gun to your head. You already know they will get away with this. Hell, you're still in your pajamas! They only took you from the daycare two hours ago! The guy with the gun was there the whole time. Sun got shot in the eye trying to help you.

The young man on the screen begins removing useable parts. He's leaving their outer shell on. It's agony for you. Tears dribble down your face but you make no sound. They won't get the satisfaction. It takes about two hours. The woman, who won't tell you her name, makes you watch the whole time.

What's left of Sun and Moon is dragged off-screen. The camera follows as they are taken to the trash compactor. You gasp quietly. A strangled cry leaves you. Sun and Moon are dumped into the compactor. The machine crushes them several times. You cry loudly, sobbing into your hands.

The woman laughs "Throw them out! You make me sick."

You are dragged by force from the building and thrown out the nearest door to the outside. You curl up on the ground in tears. After a few minutes, the door reopens.

A guard throws some money at you "Severance pay."

You pick the bills up and drag yourself to your car. The drive to your house is miserable. Your house feels cold and unwelcoming. You aren't allowed to return to Fazzy Fucks ever. You refuse to call the company by its real name.

You spend all day crying. That night you destroy your couch. Pieces of wood and stuffing everywhere. You don't feel any better and now you need a new couch. As you gaze around at the mess you realize you can't stay here. It hurts too much.

You spend the day researching places to live. That night you decide that moving up north is the thing to do. You decide the mountains would be good for you. Being a werewolf you need space to run around. While you like your open fields it's time for a change.

Over the following weeks, you make arrangements to move. A realtor will sell your house for you, and movers will bring your stuff to your new house. You bought 30 acres of mountains with a log cabin home on it. Plenty of room to roam and hunt.

The move goes smoothly. Your old house sells to a nice young lady wanting sheep. All of your things arrive at your new place right on time. you only spend one night sleeping on an air mattress on the floor. Finding a job was tough but you did it.

You work as a forest ranger. It's nice a peaceful. You miss Sun and Moon terribly. Late one night you find yourself looking up the parts to build the duo yourself. You used to be a mechanic at the plex. However not even a third of the way building Sun you break.

You can't replace them. Never! So the project gathers dust in your garage for a full year.

Things in the world change as they often do. Someone leaks secrets about Fazbear. All animatronics are released and slowly gain freedom. Midsummer you behind to feel empty again so you return to your project. You can't rebuild Sun. It doesn't feel right.

That doesn't mean you want to scrap it though. You are watching TV one afternoon when an idea hits you. An old employee of the former pizza giant has made an animatronic baby. It comes with upgrades to help age the child up. It's controversial but you take it.

Your rebuilding Sun project is now to build a son. A son based on Sun. And so you work. Any chance you have is spent working on the baby. You contact your old co-worker who sends you supplies for free. They knew what the company did to you and did not agree.

Soon you had a solar-themed son. You named him Astro. He was your world. Your piece of Sun that you could cherish. A way to honor your husband. You then began the arduous task of finding parts from Moon. There is no way you would not make him a kid too.

It took two years to find all the parts but you did. This time you made a daughter. Aster wanted to name her Nebula. He's a fan of guardians of the galaxy. Your children called you Nebi instead of Mom or Dad. You made sure to tell them about their fathers every single day.

You even showed them pictures and videos from your phone. Nebula liked the video where Moon is singing you to sleep best. Astro liked the one where Sun was playing keep away with your hat best. You told them every night that Sun and Moon loved them very much.

"How do you know they love us Nebi?" Astro asked as he did almost every night.

You smiled softly and pet his hair "Because they always said they wanted kids to love and now here you are. They love you so much it's more than the ocean."

Astro gasped "Wow! That's big!"

Astro has blond hair with five rays in a star pattern around his head. He could wiggle them just like Sun. His eyes are bright blue and glow faintly. His skin is the same yellow of Sun's. He, nor his sister, transform into a wolf like you do but you will always love them.

Nebula has white hair with rose pink eyes. She crawls around the walls like Moon. Something you discovered when she learned to crawl. You found her babbling to a spider on the ceiling. Gave you a heart attack! Her skin is the Blue of Moon.

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

[johnemulaney]

John Mulaney: From Scratch in Las Vegas, September 4

Once again, spoilers for the show and what will presumably be in the special. This is about his relapse so tread with caution is that will be an issue for you. However, the tone of his struggle is the same one he used in his past specials so if you didn’t have any issues then, I think you’d be ok with this. Of course, use your own best judgement, friends.

The opener was Seaton Smith. 

He opened with trying to find the rich people in the crowd but acknowledged that they’d go mwrmwmwrw money isn’t everything so then he started talking about golf and went aha I got ya’ll. 

There was a joke about weed being the only Christian drug

He had a bit about when white people are nice, be nervous

He had a bit about there being a black man on the Bachelor and was like America (ABC and Disney+) were not ready for a black man to be fucking a house full of 50 white women. That shit premiered on Tuesday and the Capitol burned on Wednesday.

He also did some crowd work and roasted a couple in the front row for having different answers about kids and she was like I didn’t hear the question and was roasted about how not hearing questions you don’t want to answer is certainly a tactic, often used by drug dealers

He also had a bit about how different child rearing is in Texas versus New York and about how hitting your kids is treated differently, like his dad would have just threatened it whimsically. 

Now on to the Main Event!

The first thing he said was “hiiiiiiiiii” exactly in the tone you think he said it in. he followed that up with a little shrug looking adorable and a little bashful

“It’s him! Mr. Problems. Oh Las Vegas, Oh my god” he then talks about how Vegas is a land of vice and a Choice for him to preform in as a recovering addict. He had a sober buddy and 3 bodyguards with him at all times. 

“And here’s what happened” December 18, 2020, he gets invited to a friends apartment for dinner AND HE’S TWO HOURS LATE because he stopped, coked out of his mind, at SNL for a haircut because he still had his building access badge and he went to the hair department and they were like, he’ll leave faster if we just do this, and then he stopped at his drug dealers. 

He called venmo and cashapp, apps for drug deals and was like what do normal people even use them for. He maxed both out paying for drugs. 

He was the best looking person at his intervention. “Coke skinny, new cut” and the 12 people intervening looked like shit. He looked “tears for fears while they all looked jerry garcia” (I hope you know who those musicians are besties). 

He immediately yelled “Can I go to the bathroom” to you know, dump his drugs because when you walk into that, you know what it is. 

He was not allowed to go (he would be asked if he still needed to pee later and would say “what?”

There were 6 people in NYC and 6 people over zoom in LA because he guesses 6 people couldn’t be bothered to fly in for HIS INTERVENTION

Interventions can go two ways, it can be kind of accusatory and this is how you let us all down, or it can be supportive. Everyone but Nick Kroll got the memo to be supportive.

Nick Kroll went first.

Nick Kroll listed all the ways John was a bad best friend and brother over zoom and John was getting texts during the intervention saying Nick wasn’t supposed to do that and they were all sorry. 

Bill Hader went next. he originally wasn’t going to be able to make it so he had recorded a thing but since he was there, he did it live. (He would eventually send the video to John in rehab, which is not what you want on the way to rehab “awesome, more intervention”)

He tried to derail the intervention, “there’s not enough latinx representation” he said he’d go to any rehab except the one they had picked out for him. This was a star-studded affair and he was mad no one was being funny. 

 Natasha Lyons went next, telling him his life and career is in shambles

So he gets carted off to rehab after this intervention. Don’t let 12 comedians pack your bags for 2 months at rehab. it was bombas socks and iphone chargers. 

A little secret about rehab, you’re not allowed to bring drugs in. You remember how he was late? In his pocket on the way to rehab included: a huge amount of pills, 3g of coke (which was 2g by the time he got there, courtesy of a koala station in a gas station bathroom), and $2000 in cash. He had other plans for the weekend. He was admitted for xanax, coke, perocet, and adderall addiction. Say what you will, but he does not do anything half way.

It’s 4am when he’s sent to detox, he’s been awake for 3 days. 

He also gives a small lesson on how to get drugs. Find the lowest rated doctors on yelp and webmd reviews and go ask for them, they need all the business they can get. You become like Captain Phillips, I am the doctor now. 

Dr. Michael was his shady doctor. He was a first avenue apartment where he would write prescriptions from his kitchenette where his girl Minerva was always asleep. “I didn’t kill my wife Minerva.” But John would ask for his drugs, Dr. Michael would write the script and then ask what he needed it for. Dr. Michael would also make John take his shirt off, always offering a flu shot and going no, shirt all the way off (in case you were wondering how bad this addiction actually was)

The first moral is now you know. The second moral is get vaccinated.

He’s sent to the regular ward the next afternoon and they finally get him to sleep. 

He’s sketched out that doctors have last names at this establishment

He asks for drugs such as klonopin and is taken aback a bit when he doesn’t get them. The doctor is like PA state law says no, and so John suggests they go to a CVS in Jersey to get some. 

His bestie Pete Davidson starts calling that night. Except Pete changes his number every month and a half so John has him send a selfie and saves the new number under some other random name, at this point in time, Pete is saved as Al Pacino. (We get an Al Pacino impression) John is asleep and his nurse sees Al Pacino trying to call him 5 times and so she wakes him up. 

Pete Davidson and John Mulaney did not do drugs together. (The author is lowkey surprised and sad about that, like if Pete was my bestie, we’d make so many poor choices) But Pete was always very supportive of his sobriety. 

John needs recognition so badly, in group when they introduced themselves he said “I’m John M.” and no one cared. So he left a tabloid out with the news of his admittance and his face on it in the rec room on the table. The not being someone was “driving him bananas.” When they talked about what they do for a living and he said I’m a a stand up comedian, someone asked if he made a living that way. He said “yeah ask your daughter” (or your son)

One of the things you do at rehab is break up with your drug dealer.

One of his drug dealers only bought drugs to keep John from buying worse off the streets and only got into the game because John kept asking him for drugs and was his only buyer. That guy was originally a painter and John has no idea how they met. John is the only person to turn an innocent man into a drug dealer. 

Here he did the Baby J is back baby joke. the Park Theater is one of the biggest stages in the world so he did that joke in one pace across the stage and said the stage is that joke long. 

“I am no longer on drugs. It’s very good but also ah---” He’s in a 12 step anonymous group. 

“I need attention, clearly.” After a show you think he would be sated, but no. 

He wants that attention that the kid who’s grandparent died and showed up to school dressed for the funeral and got to sit in the beanbag chair for reading despite it not being his turn, gets. He went on about being willing to let one of the lesser important grandparents die so he could get attention, for quite a while. 

He feels left behind in science, like his C’s and D’s in those classes. All those classes were was putting things on a windowsill for the janitor to throw away. He had a bit about how the fuck people put dinosaurs back together, it’s like getting wayfair furniture without the instructions. 

He also things the moon belongs to America. Like we got there first and when other countries say stuff about the moon he’s like mmmmmmm.

He also had a joke about paying to get into college and like, for white people that’s always how it’s been. 

The show ended with him going over the highlights of that GQ interview that he was so coked out for that he forgot he did it entirely. He has no memory of it at all. He was just called up that day and asked for an interview and you know how coke is the best drug to receive attention on? He just did whatever he wanted with that attention. 

And that was the show.

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Revenge on Little Maybank | John B Routledge x Maybank!reader

Requested by anon / Summary:  After JJ steals the money from Barry, he takes his revenge out on his little sister which drives a wedge between John B and JJ.

A/N: Hope you like it! I think your request was just another Maybank!reader request with John B so I came up with this after watching that one episode where JJ steals barry’s money. I hope you like it! xx 

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

“JJ, are you crazy?!” You quickly hop out of the van after him. You’d all arrived at Barry’s trailer for a little payback according to JJ after he’d jumped all you only moments ago. 

The rest of the pogues followed, “JJ don’t be stupid!” John B calls out following you.

You turn and stop him with hand to the chest, “I’ve got him.” You hurry up the few stairs and into the trailer. It reeked of weed, sweat and overall nastiness. 

“I know you’ve got it here somewhere.” JJ grumbles to himself, tossing things around. He’s searching for something. 

“What are you doing.” You follow him through the house, “He’s a drug dealer, JJ. This is crazy.” 

“He’s got a stash here somewhere.” He mutters, entering a bedroom and throwing things out of the closets. 

“JJ stop it!” Grabbing his arm, he shakes you off, tossing the black bag on the bed, “There you are.” 

Dumping out the bag, there was wads of cash, “I knew he’d have it here somewhere.” 

“You are not thinking about stealing that.” You point to the money, “Stealing from a drug dealer, are you fucking psycho!” 

“Think of it as payment for our troubles.” JJ says, stuffing the money back into the bag. 

You follow him out the door and grab his arm, “This isn’t you JJ! You’re acting just like him!” 

JJ abruptly turns and pushes you against the wall. He’s seething as he points a finger at you, “Don’t you dare compare me to him.” 

You can’t help but let tears fill your eyes, “JJ, you know who this dude is. He knows who we are and he’s gonna know we’re the ones who stole the money. he’s going to come after us!” 

JJ pulls away from you and makes his way outside where the other pogues are yelling at JJ as he hands out wads of money to the pogues.

“What the hell are you doing?!” 

“Stealing?! We’ve resulted to stealing?!” 

“He’s going to know it’s us!” 

John B immediately takes notice of the tears in your eyes, coming to your side. You shake him off, “I’m fine.” 

“JJ, what the hell are we going to do when he comes after us? Huh?” John B asks, “We can’t steal from this dude!” 

“We can handle ourselves. We’ll be fine.” JJ rolls his eyes, “Fine, you guys don’t want the money?” He yanks the wads of money out of the pogues hands, throwing it back in the bag, “I’ll pay my restitution.” 

“JJ, you can’t do this! He knows all of us. He gonna know we stole it.” You call out after him as he storms off down the gravel driveway. But he’s not listening. John B wraps a protective arm around you, pulling you into his chest as you let out the tears. 

You don’t know whether it was fear for JJ, of who he was becoming and the fact he’d acted just like your father moments ago. Fear for the rest of the pogues safety or fear of what Barry was going to do when he found out you all, well, JJ techinally, had stolen the money. 

~

You found out first hand what Barry would do once he found his money was gone. Barry hadn’t been dumb. He knew it was JJ who stole the money and decided since you were his little sister, you would be the one to get the revenge on and because it would hit JJ more than any of the other pogues. 

Barry blew the horn of his car before getting his buddy to push you out of the car and into the dirt and gravel of John B’s driveway. This would send a message to give his money back. As soon as he saw the pogues running out of the house, he drove off. 

John B had reached you first, then it was JJ. You were shaking against the ground. 

“Oh my god. Y/n..” John B didn’t know where to touch you, scared of hurting you. His hands were as gentle as they could be as he picked you up off the dirty ground. 

You let out a yelp of pain as he lifted you. The pain radiated through your middle. Probably from all the kicks you took. 

JJ ran his hands through his hair as he followed closely behind John B, “is she okay? I’m going to kill him for this!” 

John B carried you to his bed, “Kie, get some ice and a wet cloth. Pope, grab her another shirt out of my drawer there.” He gently laid you down, “It’s okay.. I got you..” 

Kie and Pope did as he said. 

“I can’t believe Barry did this to her. This is worst than what my dad’s ever done!” He points to you. 

You whimpered as John B laid you down. As soon as he did, John B grabbed JJ by the collar of his shirt and threw him up against the nearby wall, “You see what he did to her! He did this because of you! Because of your stupidity!” 

“John B!” Kie shrieked. 

“This was his revenge for stealing his money, JJ! He took it out on your little sister! My girlfriend!” He yanked him by the collar away from the wall and pushed him even harder against the wall once more.

JJ didn’t know what to say. Pope pulled John B off JJ, “Get out! Get out of my fucking house!”��

“She’s my sister-” 

“and she’s my girlfriend who is in this because of you!” He points to the door, “Now get the fuck out of my house or I’ll drag you out of here.” 

“Just go.” Kie pushes JJ toward the door, but he resists, “kie, that’s my sister, I have to stay-” 

“JJ, Just go. Let things calm down.” Kie soothes, pushing him once more. 

JJ takes one last look at you, “I’m so sorry,” He obliges and leaves the chateau, but he doesn’t go far. He didn’t want to leave you, so he goes and sits down at the dock. 

John B Routledge // Chase Stokes taglist: @sataninsatin​ , @losers-club6​ , @bananasfromtarget​ , @lolychu​

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee​ , @thewolf-and-thesheep​ , @obxrafejjwhore​ , @abbiesthings​ , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​

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[jar-of-ectoplasm]

Beach Trip Headcanons: La Squadra

a/n: it's getting warmer where i live which is horrible and i hate it but it gave me some inspo here's some bullshit

Genre/Warnings: Crack, fluff, just some cute shit, polyamory (sorlato), a LOT of simping omfg

~Risotto Nero~

-he already had his tits out on the regular so his bare chest isn't anything new but he lost that stupid hat so it wouldn't get wet and now you can stare at hat-less riz

-doesn't get in the water too often but he definitely goes underwater to grab your legs and scare you (he does it to ghiaccio and melone too; melone screams at the top of his lungs and ghiaccio fails around like he's drowning)

-spends most of his time under the parasols with illuso and prosciutto, just chatting and watching you mess around with your teammates (and maybe checking you out while he's at it)

-lowkey starts to get jealous if he thinks melone or formaggio are gettin' too friendly with you (god help any random person that flirts with you)

-Riz makes damn sure both you and him are very well saturated (?? does that sound weird) with sunscreen. there's no way in hell either of you will be suffering through that

~Prosciutto~

-you thought you were going to the beach with your boyfriend? lmfao nah you're at the beach with mom and your rowdy ass siblings now

-came in clutch with the sunscreen, aloe vera ointment, snacks, water and spending money. has a very nice set up under a parasol with illuso (and you, if you'd like to join him in his relaxation/parenting session)

-pros with his hair down, shirtless and wearing a pair of pineapple swim trunks to match with pesci? out in public? a lot more likely than you'd think

-formaggio would be a prick and dump water on his hair and now you get to see prosciutto with his hair wet fUCK (pros would be FUMING but he'd look so GOOD)

-would read to you but he doesn't want to risk getting any of his fav books wet so he'd just tell you wonderful stories of the team before you joined (most of them are embarrassing for everyone but him)

~Pesci~

-literally he's having the time of his LIFE right now. he's completely protected from the sun (thanks mamma pros), he's goin' fishing, he's got his s/o with him, what more could a boy ask for?

-maybe he should've asked formaggio to not throw sand at him every 10 minutes because that is happening for sure, no matter how much prosciutto yells at him to stop pesci will not be left alone

-is in the water like, 70% of the time. he'll make bets with ghiaccio to see who can swim out the farthest and ghia is surprisingly not mad when he loses

-he'll walk off the beach with just you to get ice cream and it's honestly really fucking cute (he gets strawberry, btw)

-pesci really likes picking you up and tossing you into the water. he's secretly a little bastard and will laugh at you while helping you up

~Illuso~

-jesus the entire day with him is just 🙄. he's such a little bitch about EVERYTHING

-won't go in the water at all and carries a compact mirror with him so he has an escape plan in case formaggio decides to fuck with him. salt water damages your hair and there's no possible fucking way he's risking his scalp just for a little fun

-still insisted on wearing swim trunks and going shirtless though, mostly just to have your undivided attention (as if he didn't already force you to pay attention to him enough)

-sitting under parasols with prosciutto because he's pale and has sensitive skin but he still ends up getting sunburned and won't stop complaining

-you guys did have a cute little moment when the sun was starting to set and he dragged you away from everyone so he could look for sea glass with you (totally wasn't an excuse to hold your hand while he was dragging you around)

~Formaggio~

-spends the entire day being a little rat bastard and making almost everyone wish he was dead (he respects risotto too much and sorbet and gelato scare him so he leaves them alone)

-throwing sand at pesci and melone, pouring water on prosciutto, stealing melone's goggles, chasing illuso into the mirror world, straight up throwing ghiaccio's car keys across the beach

-and of course he's gonna drag you into this. even if you just wanted to have a nice beach day with your asshole boyfriend, he's gonna hold you captive during his shenanigans

-can and will wipe his sweat on you. he thinks it's the funniest thing in the world. please throw seaweed at him in retaliation, he thinks it's nasty as fuck

-leaves the beach early so he can treat you to dinner, both as a thank you for dealing with his bullshit all day and as an apology for wiping sweat on you every 30 minutes

~Ghiaccio~

-the most unrecognizable when he's as the beach with everybody. his hair isn't styled, so his curls are a lot looser and not plastered to his head, he's not wearing his glasses so they don't get lost in the water, HIS FUCKING LEGS AND BARE CHEST ARE JUST OUT

-literally just,,,SURFER GHIACCIO??? come ON dude. he knows what he's doing and will wink at you every single time he catches you staring

-loves wading out far into the water with you on his surf board so he can be all soft and cute with you without anybody hearing or seeing him

-he'll also be pretty light-hearted when he's out there too. he and pesci will see who can swim out the farthest and he'll let pesci win (let's be honest, with his legs he could swim to a different continent if he wanted too)

-ghia might look hot as hell out there, but he'll also end up burnt as hell. literally he just didn't put sunscreen on and he was out in the sun for hours. hottie got sun poisoning, please take him home early he will die

~Melone~

-he brought along goggles, a snorkel and flippers so he can do some shallow reef diving

-he'll pop up occasionally and yell for you to come over and show you a tiny little crab or a cool looking fish he found (it's honestly really, really cute)

-mel will take routine breaks to reapply sunscreen, drink water, check up on you, and get his goggles stolen (which he did not plan on). he'll also take this time to use shitty beach-related pick up lines to get you to laugh

-honestly as pervy as you'd think he would be. maybe it's because he's distracted by all the fun little creatures he keeps finding in tide pools and such

-has his own little set up a few feet away from prosciutto and illuso's. he'll be there while he's taking his breaks and yes he will try to cuddle with you even though it's pushing 90 degrees at noon

~Sorbet and Gelato~

-not to get sad in what is supposed to be a fun headcanon set but neither of them will take their shirts off or get in the water. both of them have a lot of body image issues and they'd really appreciate it if you didn't try to convince them to be half naked in public

-with that being said, both Sorbet and Gelato get loads of enjoyment out of just watching you swim around and have fun before returning to them

-Sorbet will help apply sunscreen but he really just wants an excuse to grope you and Gelato in public

-Gelato will want to have a sandcastle building contest with you (Sorbet is the judge and both of you receive the grand prize of a kiss)

-long walks on the beach together at night after everyone's gone home? of fucking course it's gonna happen

[weebswrites]

Hi. I read your demon bro angst about them hurting mc. Can I request something similar, only it was the MC who broke it off Bc of something the demon bros did, and how they felt after? Please and thank you.

The Demon Bros Getting Dumped >:)

Lucifer (why you broke up: he put too much time into his work and not enough time into your relationship)

• He never thought you’d break up, so when you sat him down and said that you wanted to end things, he didn’t think it was real

• After a brief conversation you left his office, then going to Asmo’s room so you could cry on your best friend’s shoulder

• He tried to pour his grief into work, but every time he tried to he’d just think about how that very same work was the reason he lost you

• Cried to Diavolo

• He’d come up with excuses to come to your classes, eyes fighting the urge to look at you to see if you were okay (which you weren’t)

• Didn’t know what he had until he lost it

Mammon (why you broke up: he sold one too many of your valuables from the human world)

• “I can’t do this anymore, Mammon!” you shout, “It’s ~my~ stuff!”

• “MC, I’m sorry, I just needed the money to pay someone back” he apologized, and you could tell he genuinely felt bad. But it didn’t change that this was the second time this week he had sold something of yours

• “Mammon..” you exhaled through your mouth, voice lowering to a reasonable volume, “I can’t. I’m sorry” you hoped your eyes said what you were thinking because you weren’t sure if you could say the words out loud

• His eyes fell, and you could tell he knew what you meant

• You turned and left his room, going back to yours where you collapsed in bed, crying yourself to sleep

• He laid in bed all night, staring at the ceiling. He’d never been this...solemn before...

• Never truly moves on from you

Leviathan (why you broke up: he got too overbearing and jealous of your guy friends)

• You’re telling him for what feels like the hundredth time that your lab partner isn’t flirting with you he’s just being nice when you feel something break inside your chest

• “Levi...” you whisper, “I-”

• He yells and cuts you off, “Stop! Just...get out” his voice dropped to a whisper, and you saw a tear fall down his face

• You whisper a small apology and leave his room, knowing what had just happened as well as he did

• The walk back to your room feels like it takes hours, and when Beel sees you on his way back from getting a snack, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you so upset in your life

• You spend the night with Beel trying to make you feel better, but that doesn't take away from the crying you can hear from Levi’s room throughout the night

Satan (why you broke up: he fell back into torturing people for fun)

• “Satan, we need to talk” your tone is rigid, and you can tell by the way he looks up from his book that he knows what this is about

• “MC, I’m sorry” he tries to apologize, but you’re tired of his excuses

• You cut off his apology, “Satan, I’m here on exchange, I’m trying to keep a good reputation both here and in the human world. If my parents found out I was dating a murderer they’d kill me, and I could get expelled from school if I bring you around. I love you, but I can’t put my future at risk anymore” you explain to him, your heart breaking as you watched your words break his

• He just nodded and went back to his book, trying to stay strong while you were still there

• You sighed emptily, “I’m sorry, Satan. Truly” you whispered before turning to leave, closing the door gently behind you and pressing your ear to it to see if you could hear Satan’s true reaction to you breaking things off through the door

• And oh, you could. You heard a thud (him throwing his book across the room) followed by a muffled scream (into a pillow), as you heard him break down into messy sobs, your heart feeling like it was being torn into a million pieces

Beelzebub (why you broke up: he cared more about his next meal than you)

• It’s not like it was intentional, he’d never really been in a relationship before

• You’d text him to hang out and he’d say he was busy...almost every time

• So you started just showing up to spend time with him, but he’d spend more time on eating than on engaging in conversation

• So one day you go to him and sit down, “Beel, I really like you, but I don’t think this is working out”

• He stops

• Looks over at you, and slowly nods, mouth pursing. “I understand. I haven’t been very good to you, MC”

• You talk for a bit and agree that you still want to be as good of friends as you can be, and things basically go back to how they were before you dated

• But he can’t help but stay up late at night, pondering how he could have acted differently to keep you

Belphegor (why you broke up: he didn't make time for you, ever)

• You would try to plan date nights, to watch a movie or get dinner somewhere, but he’d always just pull you into bed and nap

• Which was nice, but you needed more from a partner

• So you bring it up, hoping that you can get him to agree to a date night at ~least~ once a week

• And he’s sorry, but you know it’s something about him that he can’t change. He’s the avatar of sloth, what were you expecting

• So you go your separate ways

• You didn’t think he was too broken up about it until Lucifer talked to you, seeing if you knew why he hadn’t left his room in a week

• "That explains it, then”

[liddolwhynot2000]

Moments Levi shared with his beloved baby daughter- Kutchel

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aka Levi giving all his 💕Uwu's💕 to his baby girl

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Dadaaa

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It's Levi's day off, and even though he tries his hardest not to look it, he's eager to run back home. He's determined to not waste a second of being off duty.

He's missed his family- you and your calming presence. The stability that he falls into at merely being in the same vicinity as you, is difficult to resist-even for a man like Levi.

Your gentleness somehow meshes well with your child's rowdiness, always laughing and wreaking havoc in the house. He wants to hold his baby brat, even if she'll try to pull his hair out for it.

So he hurries back home, but of course, he has to get past your little guard first. Standing with his cloak still in his arms, Levi craned his neck down to stare at the tiny creature sitting on the floor, blocking his path to his beloved wife. Said creature, wearing a blue dress, is his adorable one year old daughter.

The baby doesn't bother to spare him a glance, too busy babbling as she plays with her blocks. Levi's fine with it, it took him a while but he's learned to accept that babies don't care about, well, anything.

He ponders lifting her up and cradling her in his arms for a cuddle. But, considering the ferociousness with which his daughter is bashing two blocks together, he decides that he values his ability to hear.

Kneeling down, he sets his cloak on the floor and sits in front of her, waiting to be noticed. Kutchel looks at him, her big black eyes innocently blinking at him. She shoves a block into her mouth and gurgles, recognising him.

"Do I have your approval to go to your mom now?"

"Ba da guuu"

"Is that a yes or a no?"

More random babbling. Tiny hands busy themselves with trying to crawl away, so Levi pats her on the head and gets up to go to his wife. He doesn't notice his baby pausing mid crawl to pout at him, wanting him to stick close.

He also doesn't see her little face cutely scrunch up, thinking of ways to stop him and bring one of her favourite humans back to her.

''Daadaaa."

Levi freezes, his heart immediately melting. He can't stop himself from turning back to his child, not when she calls out for him like that.

He cradles her in his arms, unaware that you're watching from the kitchen door, committing the sight to memory.

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Conversations

__________________________________

You've been with Levi for so long now-so much of your life has been spent with this wonderful man and you have no regrets whatsoever.

You do, however, have secrets. Not serious ones, but pure ones. Small, precious memories you've kept to yourself. They're you're little secrets- events that you look back on with fondness.

Events Levi doesn't know you saw happen.

You remember, when you were exhausted from giving birth, how lovingly Levi talked to your newborn daughter.

'Hey brat, you better keep it down now. Your mom just fell asleep- don't yawn. You're already not listening to me-'

He thought you were asleep. If it weren't for your stitches, you would have giggled and alerted him to the fact that you were listening.

You remember all those times you were never woken up by Kutchel crying-because Levi would wake up before you.

'Go to sleep.'

'oooooh'

'I said; Go. To. Sleep. Don't smile at me-- hey stop laughing-'

You caught on to it very randomly, and the memory warmed your heart to this day.

Levi often had silly little conversations with baby Kutchel, when he thought you weren't in hearing range.

'Yes this is the right way-no what do you mean I can't fold shirts like this-you're pouting you obviously don't agree.'

'Kid- I don't know why you like Eren so much-but this works because he can be an unpaid babysitter-no? Fine, I guess I can pay him a little. Okay fine, I'll pay him more then a little.'

'Do you like this dress? Me neither. How about this one-these socks are awful why the hell do you have these-'

'Yes tea is better then coffee. Coffee is for soulless creatures like Mikasa-Hey, don't cry dammit, why do you have to like the brat that glares at me so much huh? You tiny traitor.'

'So I'm taking you to that military ball tommorow-and I expect you to cry enough that I have an excuse to leave. You cry, I leave and then you get as much milk as you want. We good? Good. Don't tell your mother.'

'You threw up on that military police soldier-I'm proud of you brat. Now, let's aim for throwing up on Erwin. Or at least trying to rip his eyebrows out. I feel like the rumour of them being fake might be true.'

'I know you can't talk much, but make a vow to me that you will, never, ever say yes to anything your Aunt Hange asks of you. Trust me, it's for you own good.'

'Kutchel- stop that-I will pay you to stay still. Here, here's all the money I have, which isn't much. Take it and stay still- why the hell are you still wiggling, you need to put your socks on dammit-'

And so much more. It warmed your heart to think of how beautifully he had bonded with her from the start. And you can only be glad you get to see their entire journey together.

__________________________________

Cloak

__________________________________

Levi is a man who values cleanliness above all things-he's made sure his house is so clean that all the rooms are sparkling. Despite having a baby in the house, who had recently learned how to walk and subsequently wreak havoc everywhere she wants to, he still tries his hardest to stick to those standards.

So that's why, here he is, pathetically trying to wash clothes, with a clingy toddler who has made it her life's mission to ruin his life. How is she doing this, one would ask. Well, making sure that he can't even put the damn clothes in the basket was one.

'Kutchel-no-stop it, give that back.'

Levi's a little ashamed of himself, just his hands moving to grab his swords are usually enough to strike fear into the heart of his enemies. Yet, here they are, incapable of winning a tug of war with his one year old brat.

He's really, really glad that Hanji can't see him right now.

He manages to get the shirt out of Kutchel's strong grip, causing her to pout and flail her arms with a whine. Levi refuses to give in and snatches the next piece of clothing before she can. He gives her a stern look.

'No.'

With that, he dumps it in the basket. Kutchel doesn't appreciate it, sitting down and pouting at him cutely. It doesn't last long, because she busies herself with the clothes again. At least she isn't snatching them from his hands this time, and only picking on the clean pile.

He gets up to get some more detergent, smiling to himself at the sound of happy gurgles. Once he comes back, he catches sight of Kutchel, and nearly drops all the powder.

His child is exactly where he had left her, except she's now wearing his Survey Corps cloak. Her black hair, much like his own, is messy and the hood is too big for her tiny head. She looks up at him, and smiles in the face of his horror. On one hand, it's pretty damn cute. On the other hand-

'Oh hell no-'

He starts to take the cloak off of her, ignoring her cries of indignation. His child won't have anything to do with the Survey Corps. Ever.

Too bad 15 year old Kutchel Ackerman had every intention of stealing his title from him- but that's a story for another time.

____________________________________

Clapping

____________________________________

Levi has self control. Plenty of it, actually. One could easily argue that, after Erwin, he's one of the most composed individuals in the military.

He's dealt with all sorts of people-rude, snobbish, arrogant bastards who think they stand a chance against him. His expression never waivers, even as he insults them to the point their ancestors are crying in the graves.

But what's happening right now, it makes him lose his precious self control. His face, so used to being that of an expressionless grumpy old man, is scrunched up in anger. Levi does not like what's happening.

Not one bit.

Levi can deal with people trash talking him, he never falters despite all the accurate short jokes. He can deal with people bashing Erwin without flinching-because even he's wanted to kill the man once and can't really blame others for wanting to do so as well.

However, what Levi can't deal with in a calm and rational manner, is -

'The fuck did you just say?'

'I said, your daughter is just a dumb brat.'

Yeah, this Military Police Senior Officer is dying today. Levi hopes Erwin is ready to deal with an irate Nile

'Shut the fuck up-I'm the only one who gets to call her a dumb brat.'

The Officer moves to speak again but Levi silences him with a soul burning glare. Levi turns to his brat. Kutchel is sitting on the carpet, wearing a tiny, cute red dress you had bought for her on sale. She's surrounded by numerous toys, gifted by his comrades.

'Kutchel-'

The baby pauses in her play time, which is chewing a stuffed bear, and turns to look at her papa. The officer looks confused.

'If you're happy and you know it clap your hands.'

There's a pause in the room. The officer looks surprised, although he thinks Levi just proved his point. Kutchel looks to be only a few months old and Levi has just monotonously stated a sentence that is usually sung. There was no way the brat would actuall-

Kutchel squealed in delight, pressing her hands together slowly. Once she notices her papas approval, she starts clapping happily.

Levi smirks, while the officer sweat drops.

'See that, bitch? No' dumb brat' does that at 9 months old.'

Of course, Levi still had to beat the guy up a little after that. No one picks on his baby but him.

____________________________________

Sorry

____________________________________

'Eat it.'

Levi pushed the spoon towards Kutchel, who refused to open her mouth.

He had seated her on the table, ditching the highchair. A bib was secured around her neck, and the brat was clearly hungry.

Except since she had eaten three bites, she refused to eat more. Levi was slowly getting more and more frustrated.

'What's your problem? I know you're hungry.'

Kutchel stared at him sadly, and his irritation thawed at the sight. His child was usually pretty well behaved when it came to food. She usually liked eating fruits and vegetables, but for some reason, kept rejecting her baby food.

Levi frowned, before deciding to taste it himself. Maybe if he ate one in front of her, she would want to eat it too-

Levi paused.

He slowly ate, resisting the urge to throw up. He grimaced and awkwardly avoided eye contact with Kutchel, feeling sheepish all of a sudden.

There was judgement in her eyes- something he couldn't blame her for.

The hell sort of crap had they been feeing her? It tasted awful. No wonder she wouldn't eat it.

Sighing, Levi shoved the bowl full of food-that-must-not-be-named away. He lifted Kutchel into his arms.

His brat pouted slightly, her small arms wrapping around his neck. Poor kid was hungry, as evidenced by her discontent expression.

Levi smiled at her lightly, tucking her head into he crook of his neck.

'Sorry Kutchel-let's go to the bakery and get some pastries. And when we get back, I'll even mix some chocolate in your milk. Just don't tell your mother okay.'

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A/N: Heyooo. Just randomly thought of Levi being a dad and this came to mind. These are actually only some of the moments I thought of, I have plenty more in mind. Maybe I'll write those out too. Hope y'all enjoyed this! ❇️

[cuddlesslut]

Part FOUR : Chance Encounters

Atsumu x fem reader, Suna x fem reader, Hinata x fem reader

Tags: slight NSFW, Heavy Angst.

A/N: so this will NOT be the last chapter there will be more. Just like there are more choices now lol, don’t be shy to tell me who you route for. Also let me know if y’all want more NSFW I’m chill with writing it . ALSO slight canon divergence the timing on when Hinata comes back from Brazil is different, obviously in the Manga he’s only gone for two years. In this story it is longer. Hinata isn’t on MSBY yet. Also we are only caught up on 5 months since the dreaded birthday.

Part Three: Memories

Part Five: Friends

You spent your birthday in some hotel room. Sitting on the plush bed still in your dress not bothering to change your curl in to a fetal position as sobs raked through you. Your whole world crashed down on you everything you knew was a lie. Your phone lit up with one last birthday message from some distant relative. You see the time it’s now one in the morning you’ve been laying here for hours you can’t understand how you have any liquid in your body left to cry but still tears trail down your cheeks as you look at your lock screen. It’s a photo from three Christmas’s ago. Atsumu held you close from behind as you pose in front of a festive Christmas tree. Your eyes are shut tight from laughter as the setter places a kiss to your cheek bone, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. This was your favorite photo of the two of you, it always showed the realness in this candid shot. You remember laughing so hard from some cheesy joke he had just whispered in your ear. Your heart twists at the photo, a moment of anger slices through you. Was any of it real? You fling your phone at the wall effectively shattering the screen. You scream into the pillow. You wish you could feel numb to all of the emotions. But no ones that lucky. You aren’t sure when you feel asleep but you wake to find the remnants of tears stuck to your face. You move to the bathroom. You look like death. Your face is pale and eyes swollen and red. Your body aches from the fitful sleep you had. You grab a quick shower before putting on your comfiest pajamas and lay back down. All the energy is drained you look for your phone before remembering your fit of rage last night groan. You switch on the TV for some form of distraction but the gods must really hate you as it opens to a sports channel and you see him in all of his intensity standing on the volleyball court. Part of your brain pleads to change the channel but you must be a masochist as you watch him in all his usual glory. He commands the stadium as he goes up to serve. He looks perfectly fine like you hadn’t just walked out of his life. Like he hadn’t just ripped your world to shreds. You're finally turning the television off sitting in the silence thinking of the memories of your home. You ordered some takeout trying to settle the ache in your stomach. The food tasted bland, everything has lost its edge. The bed offers no comfort. The sunlight offers no warmth. It’s not long before you fall into another depression nap.

Waking up late in the evening you can’t stop your mind from making a stupid decision. But you miss him. You just want to see him. That’s how you end up outside of the door that leads to the home you shared with him. Trying to work up the courage to enter. His car was in his usual spot so you know he's here. A bitter thought run through you at the thought that while you were here he couldn’t be bothered to be home before two am at the earliest, yet the first night gone and here he is at home at ten o’clock. Silently you open the door. It was a mistake. You don’t make it even completely through the threshold before you hear the obnoxious moan and grunts, the sound of skin slapping. It makes you sick “OH Miya-San!” You hear some woman bellow out. You feel nauseous. You hurry out the door trying you best not to cause any noise to interrupt the activities in the house. You bend over you feel as though you’ll throw up right there on the spot. After calming yourself you make a way to a convenience store picking up a bottle of wine before heading back to you hotel room. There’s no way you’ll make it through the night sober.

The next morning you clean your self up before heading to the bank and clear out your joint account. Normally you’d feel bad taking the money but this cash was saved for your wedding and that would never happen now. You stopped by the phone store getting your own account not wanting anymore strings attached to the player. You spend the rest of your morning looking for a small affordable apartment. Luckily you were able to find one with in distance of your school and a reasonable price. It’s now the afternoon and you have to rush not wanting to be late for your class. Although it probably wouldn’t have made a difference if you had missed today, you barely pay attention. You find yourself back with the hotel walls.

You feel completely and utterly alone. You want nothing more to call your best friend or stop by Samu’s shop and cry on his shoulder while you eat some comfort food. But there is hesitation Suna was Atsumu's friend before he was yours, and you'll probably break down in tears just looking at Osamu he was his damn twin for heavens sake. What were you to them you wonder. You only got close to them because of the setter. Part of you wanted to believe that they cared about you and all of those friendships would still be there but you couldn’t. How could they want you around. You really question your place in their lives. It’s hard to trust in anything you had also believed Atsumu loved you and would never hurt you, yet that much was proven untrue. It's hard to trust in anything you feel or know. Another reason is your afraid of all of the memories you shared with them Atsumu ever present in those moments. You don’t want to think about him any more. You don’t want any remnants of that man In your life. While you want to believe Suna would be there for you, that he’d choose you. It was not a risk you were ready to take. You don’t think you could survive another heartbreak. It’s better to leave things as is, to cherish the good memories and not risk tainting them with pain.

It’s been two months since your birthday. You’ve moved into a quaint apartment. You got a job working at a little cafe to pay for rent. Between work and studying for your degree you try to keep yourself busy. It’s hard being on your own. You try to distract yourself with the things that brought you joy. Some days are better than others but all in all everything still hurts. Graduation is only a couple of months away so at least there’s something to look forward too. There are moments that come quite often that you miss your friends but you can’t bring yourself to reach out still untrusting. You look back sometimes and wonder where the lies stopped. You avoid everything that has to do his Atsumu Miya. Even the sight of a simple volleyball brings distress.

Three and half months later the cosmos played another prank on you. It was just another Friday afternoon and you were working in the cafe. You had just helped a young beautiful woman at the counter. She seemed so familiar but you couldn’t quit place it. You could see a puzzled look on her face. Then it hit you. You knew exactly who this woman was. She was the one with your ex fiancé at the restaurant that fateful night. The realization must have struck her too. Her eyes grew wide with worry. Although you weren’t expecting what she did next.

“I AM SO SORRY,” she basically yelling as she bows in front of you. “ I’m so sorry for the part I played in your pain.” She continues. You can tell she is really distressed. You coworkers and a few costumers look at the spectacle. Hating all of the attention now directed toward the both, you beg her to please stand.

“I need you to understand I had no idea, I would never have gone for a taken man.”

You sighed and sent a look to your coworker that you were going to take a quick break. “Would you like a cup of coffee,” you ask her. You never thought That you’d be sitting having coffee with the mistress of the only man you ever loved yet here you are. There’s an awkward silence for a moment. You don’t rush things you can see she’s also having a hard time trying to figure out where to start. You take a sip of your coffee as she finally speaks.

“My names Yuki,” she states.

“YN ,” you offer back.

“Well, umm YN I just want to say I am so sorry for wh-” you cut her off holding up your hand.

“You said you didn’t know, correct?” You send a glance at her raising your eyebrow. She nods.

“Are you still with him?” She sits up straight.

“Absolutely not,” she states with conviction “after you left I asked him what just happed and he explained who you were and I left.. well not with out dumping my drink in face" she gave a little giggle.

“Ha! Oh I wish I could have seen that,” you laughed picturing him drenched in the restaurant. “In that case you have nothing to apologize for, you are a victim of Atsumu’s selfishness as well. I’m sorry he put you through that.” She gave a sad smile you could see she was hurt too. The two of you spent a few more moments in each other’s comfort discussing the facts of his affair. It hurts to know that he had a legitimate relationship with Yuki but a part of you was glad to know. It was a small piece of closure to know how deep his transgressions ran, knowing it wasn’t just sex hurt even more. But it furthered your stance that he didn’t love you and if he had at one point the love had faded on his part some time ago. You spent the rest of your shift plagued with thoughts of you past.

After your shift you went home to change before heading out to your local bar. In your time alone you had taken solace in drinking with strangers. After dressing in an appealing yet comfortable outfit you headed out. You wanted to feel comfy and relaxed but that didn’t stop you from wanting to look nice. In your past visits it wasn’t uncommon for men to try and talk you up and while you did indulge in the compliments none had succeeded in getting you to return home with them. There had yet to be a guy who fully kept your attention away from your former lover.

You found your favorite spot at the bar, just far enough from the blaring music and smokers. You smiled at the bartender before ordering your usual. You sat there letting the liquor relax you as you listened to what music the DJ was playing tonight. Normally you stick to just drinks but after the day you had you need something to take the edge off. After downing a shot of tequila you notice a presence next to you.

“Is this seat taken,” the man smiled at you. You had never seen him here before and you know damn well you would have noticed him before. Although he wasn’t a giant like most of the men you knew in your life, he wasn’t excessively short either you could tell he’d still stand taller than you. You couldn’t lie the man was extremely defined and muscular, you swear his tanned thighs that you saw peeking from under his khaki shorts were bigger than your face. His skin was tanned you can tell from pleanty of time in the sun. He had strong jaw line but his most prominent feature was this bright mop of orange hair he tried to hide under a ball cap. He had a bright smile that reached his alluring brown eyes. It was safe to say he was very handsome. He tilts his head to the side a little smirk reaching his lips. It then you realized you had never responded and just been sitting here gawking.

“Um no it’s not uhh go ahead,” you stammered out feeling a blush creep on to your cheeks at your response. What is this feeling why are you acting like a school girl.

He takes the seat next to you ordering a beer then turning to you reaching out his hand. “ Shoyo Hinata,” he states.

You accept his hand giving it a light shake. “ YN LN,” you responded. “ I’ve never seen you here before Hinata-San,” you prod wanting to know about the stranger.

“Just Shoyo is fine,”he gives you another dazzling smile. “I actually just moved back to Japan,” he states “this is my first time at this bar , but with customers as beautiful as you I’ll definitely have to come more often.” Ohh hes smooth you think. You let out a light chuckle at his compliment although it’s fairly simple compared to some of lines you’ve heard it definitely has the desired affect on you.

“Well then Shoyo where are you traveling from?” Question not wanting the convo to stop.

“I just got back from Brazil,” he mused that signature smile never far from his face.

“Wow Brazil! That’s so far was it hard to be so far from home?”you questioned.

The conversation with Hinata flowed effortlessly. Pleanty of laughes shared as he told you countless stories of his time in South America. Being in conversation with him is like talking to the sun it’s so bright and happy. He does eventually mention playing beach volleyball and for a moment you mind thinks of your ex but it then you realized it was the first time since Sho made his appearance that you had thought of the setter. It felt nice to finally have your mind clearing from the twin. As of recent at any mention of volleyball you would have ended the convo making an excuse to leave, yet you didn’t want to, plus beach volleyball is completely different than regular volleyball you reason.

Time passes by as well do several drinks. You are by no means drunk just a little tipsy. Over the course of your talking the space between Hinata started to narrow. Right now you were so close you could smell his cologne and the slight minty scent of his breath. His hand caressed your elbow. Your breath hitched when he finally leaned in “do wanna get out of here?,” you can see his iris’s darken ever so slightly. “We can go back to my place,” he continued.

Several thoughts ran threw your mind in that moment. One, you were nervous, you hadnt been with anyone other than Atsumu. Two, you were sure you weren’t ready for a relationship but it was just sex it’s not like he’s asking on a romantic vacation. And three you wanted nothing more than to feel his lips against yours. “Absolutely.”

That’s how you got to where you are now. You barely made it through the threshold before Hinata had you pinned to the door. You were locked in a searing kiss. It was like he was stealing the air from your lungs. His hands roamed your figure before slipping under your blouse. “You are absolutely gorgeous,” he breaths before pressing a kiss under your jaw trailing down you neck. You place you hands on his shoulders trying to ground yourself. You let out a loud moan as he gives a bite to your shoulder while grabbing a hand full of you breast. He smiled into you neck with pleasure from the sounds you made. The two of you stumbled a bit as you started making your way to his room shedding clothes left and right. The door closed to the bedroom and you were ready for a mindblowing night.

Home Masterlist

Taglist is Open

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[pettygangfriend]

Earn me 2/2

Pairing: Rio x reader. Part one here

Requested by: @appropriate-writers-name sorry it took so long to post the second part, but as you can see it’s pretty long, lol. I hope this was somewhat like what you had in mind💞

Warnings: none, may find some curse words.

Word count: 1509 (Im so sorry, lmao.)

“Either way, my world doesn’t revolve around no man. Remember that.”

The last thing you said to Rio before parting. It was also the last time you had spoken to him, or even heard from him. If you were being honest with yourself, it really did sting. But after a week of sitting around, hoping for a text or a phone call, you decided it was time. It was time to try something new, or, someone new.

Which is exactly how you ended up in your position, right now. Sitting at a tiny table at a bar/restaurant thingy you’ve never been to, with a man you’ve never seen before.

“So what do you do for a living, anyway?” You ask the guy in front of you, trying to make some small talk.

He wasn’t really the smoothest talker- scratch that, he wasn’t much of a talker at all. But as you were only 15 minutes in, you’re willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“I make and sell t-shirts.” He didn’t even bother to look at you, being too busy slurping away at his spaghetti.

“Oh thats nice!” You answer, trying to sound somewhat interested. “Isn’t it?”

“It’s not, but it pays the bills. Actually, it doesn’t really, but at least it kills some time”.

You just stare at him with the most confused look. What the fuck does that even mean?

You’re so busy being weirded out, and making a mental note of asking god what you did to deserve this, that you almost didn’t notice a familiar face entering the place, taking a seat at the bar. Rio. His eyes fall on the guy in front of you, looking him up and down, smirking.

A million different emotions and thoughts you had managed to push away, came flooding back, immediately. You do your best to ignore his presence, but his burning eyes on you making it hard to. So after a good 3 minutes of pretending to listen to the pasta eating weirdo in front of you, you decide to find out what the hell Rio’s doing here.

“Please excuse me for a second while I go use the bathroom” is all you say, before getting up from your seat, your eyes catching Rio’s curious ones.

Once you enter the bathroom, it doesn’t take long before he enters shortly after. He locks the door behind him, and turns around to face you. You just stand there, crossing your arms. You sure as hell wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying the first word. I guess that’s one thing you guys had in common. Pettiness.

“So first you’re giving me your little speech about needing more, and what not, and now you’re getting it on with some stranger?” He asks you, taking a step closer towards you. “Doesn’t really make sense, does it?”

Letting out a scoff, you bring yourself even closer to him. “When someone ghosts you for a week long, you it does make sense.”

“I had thing’s to do. I’m a busy guy, you know”

“Not busy enough, if you’re out here lurking around on my date”

Apparently you had said something funny, as Rio throws his head back laughing.

“Date? Come on, ma. You know you deserve better than-“ he points around him, the bathroom looking like a scene from a bad movie. “Better than this.”

“What I deserve is someone who’s willing to make an effort, even if it’s this” you copy his movements, pointing at your surroundings.

Alright, that was probably a lie, you did deserve more than this shithole. But you weren’t lying about someone making the effort to go out.

“And that someone is that guy? The one with the spaghetti stain on his shirt?” He says, sticking his hands inside his pockets.

“Well, I don’t see it being you, either. So why don’t you just leave this place, sure you got some more important things to do”

He holds your angry stare for a moment, nodding his head slowly.

“Grab your stuff, we’re leaving this dump” is all he says before wanting to turn around, but you’re quick to pull him back by his arm.

“What do you mean ‘we’re leaving’?!” You whisper yell at him, absolutely dumbfounded.

“What part don’t you get? You wanted someone to take you out, so I’m going to take you out.” He tells you, like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

A part of you wants to grab your coat and bolt out of there with Rio, but the other part needed a little more convincing. You couldn’t just leave the other guy behind, right?

“Are you crazy? I can’t just leave him!”

"You really thought that was going somewhere?"

"Yes! He was cute.. in a way" making Rio raise an eyebrow. "Okay maybe not cute, but he was nice!"

“Well either you’re gonna tell him, or I will. Or both of us, that’s cool with me too” he says, already smirking at the look on your face. You hate giving in right now, but at this point you would do anything to get out of this ‘date’.

“Fine. Let’s go”.

After a -not very sincere- apology, you feel like you have moved from one awkward date in a dump, to another awkward one in a fancier place. Honestly, you couldn’t even call this a date. It was more like you shooting Rio angry glares, while he gave short answers to your hundreds of questions.

“So why did you take a whole week to decide on wanting to take me out?”

“Something came up, so I had to go take care of some business out of town.”

“What business?” “Nothing that concerns you”

“Why did you decide you wanted to go out with me, all of a sudden?” “I had time to think.”

“Think about what?” “You and me. Us.”

You let out a deep sigh, his short answers starting to make you wish you hadn’t come with him at all.

“You know what, maybe this was a bad idea. I should just go-” you say, starting to get up from the chair, but Rio takes a hold or your wrist, before moving his hand down to hold yours.

“Don’t.” You look at his face, only to find his usual cold stare, now replaced by a more insecure one. You sit back down, waiting for him to continue, as he’s still holding your hand.

“Look, I don’t really know how to do all this” he starts, referring to the whole ordeal of two people sitting together romantically. Something that was the most normal thing in your mind, yet not in his.

“I’m know how to boss people around, I know how to make money, stay on my game. It’s what I’m used to, it’s what im good at. I’m not used to a ‘normal relationship’, and all the things that come with it. It’s not something that fits into my kind of life”

“If it doesn’t fit into your kind of life, then what am I doing here?” You ask him, already preparing yourself for the disappointment.

Rio looks down at your intertwined hands for a second, giving it a soft squeeze, before pulling your hand more towards him.

“Because when you’re with me, I feel like I can be myself, you know? Like I can finally breath, after the crazy ass day I had. But when you’re not, I feel like there’s something missing, like I need-” Rio thinks for a second, trying to find the right word. And he did. “More.”

All you can do is stare at him, taking in all the words pouring out of his mouth. A warm feeling forms in your stomach, knowing that all this time, he felt the same way. He just didn’t know how to express himself.

“And after I realized that, I tried to figure out how to tell you. You were right about me taking too long, and I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want-“

“I do.” You’re quick to cut him off. “I’m just happy you came to me. And we don’t have to jump in the deep end, let’s just take it slow. That way, we can both get used to new things” you tell him, sending him a smile, which he happily returns.

“I’d like that, mama.”

The both of you let out a sigh of relieve, finally being able to make things right. This wasn’t going to be easy, but that didn’t matter. All that matters is that you’re on the same page, entering a whole new chapter.

After a nice dinner, where you guys had lots of time to talk about regual things for once, he had decided to take you home.

“So,” he says, making you look over at him. “Does this mean I have to meet your parents?”

You look at him, wondering if this man is actually being serious right now. So much for taking it slow.

“Oh baby, you ain’t ready for all that”

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