#i want him to get me a potato masher so when i get mad at my job i can mash potatoes furiously

[aldieb]

i’m off work for the holidays now ay ay ay. this is so spoiled but i’m on tenterhooks abt whether we’ll get bonuses this year bc nonfiction continues to be a shitshow and my boss sent me a nice lil message saying if i want anything for my apartment kitchen let him know and i’m internally like “🥺👉👈 how about [redacted] dollars”

[ronsenthal]

Ron Speirs x Nurse Reader

Summary: During wartime some stories were created to scare and keep the soldiers on the line, but some other ones were slowly written to have a happy ending, just like fairy tales.

A/N: This was based on a prompt kindly sent to me by a lovely anon who wanted something with Ron x Nurse Reader and since then I was so OBSESSED with this idea so I had to try something. So dear anon if you are reding this I hope you like it, I had to change it a little bit because I'm truly awful with requests, hope you don't mind. Also this was slighthly based on the Rolling Stones song, because it so Ron coded and apparently I can't write anything not related to music? So here we go!

The first time you saw him was one week after D-Day, everybody was still scared and lost, many people went missing so naturally the first place the men went looking for their friends was the Aid Station. It was completely madness, you couldn’t take a pause to catch your breath even when your feet hurt, even when you couldn’t tell what time it was, when your stomach made loud noises, you pushed through pain, tears and tiredness. 

During one of your shifts you were attending to a private who was hit in the head by shrapnel after a potato masher exploded close to him. He was bleeding heavily since he arrived so you had to change the bandage from time to time. The Aid Station was always a noisy place with some people screaming in agony, others nurses and doctors were giving orders trying to save someone else and a few lucky ones were just chatting to pass the time. But in that afternoon it went quiet as if some spell was cast and suddenly the world was frozen, you could see heads following the footsteps of this soldier who walked in.

He slowly walked in your direction, you couldn’t see his features until he was at the other side of the stretcher of the man you were aiding. At first he didn’t say a word as he was looking at the other soldier, as if studying the damage that was done by the germans. He took a deep breath and finally asked quietly, “Is he gonna make it?” and looked at you with those big dark green eyes to which you couldn’t lie, so you honestly said “I don’t know”, he only shook his head giving you one sad look before turning into his heels and heading out.

You were awfully quiet that evening trying to eat some bread while the other girls were chatting. You tried your best but your long-suffering patient didn’t make it and yet you could only think about those sad green eyes. Some weeks went by, people would come and go but your thoughts would often drift aways to this face you couldn’t even put a name to. 

The second time you saw him was even less fortunate than the first one, this time he came in angrily shouting that he didn’t needed any help and assistance, but anyone would notice that he was limping and there was even blood on his uniform coming from his leg, his hands also were bleeding. 

Poor Jane, your friend was the closest nurse available, you only watched from a distance as she was addressing his wounds. At first he was reluctant but then finally gave in and let the woman quickly put some bandages on it, she only asked a couple of questions, filled a piece of paper and gave it to the man. Just as he went in he was suddenly gone, as he was heading out he saw you and nodded with his head before putting back his cap. 

Dinner was always gossip time and that night you made sure to sit near Jane to get some food but also try to get some information. 

“So who was that guy who came in earlier making a scene?”

“Are you kidding Y/N? That is Lieutenant Speirs, he is the one everybody keeps talking about, he killed 15 german POW or something on D-Day” Linda said, swinging her spoon 

dramatically.

“I heard it was more like 20 guys, he even offered some cigarettes before shooting them” the other nurse called Grace. 

“And do you believe those stories?” you asked them not even daring to take your eyes off your food. This couldn’t be true right? 

“I don’t know Y/N, I heard it from one of my guys the other day, he was telling his friend that they sergeant saw it” Grace told you two before changing the subject to talk about some soldier named Talbert that they both find so cute.

Lieutenant Speirs so that’s him, after that day you were always looking for his name in the morning reports at the Aid Station, you heart almost skipping a beat at the letter S but you never saw his name. You never forgot his name nor his eyes or his dark hair. 

From time to time you would see him with a cigarette on his lips from one side to the other, he was always followed by strange looks and a couple of whispers, his bad reputation was growing as time passed by, some stories were clearly too absurd to be true, others were creepier to say the least.

Third time's the charm right? Bastogne was a real nightmare, you had to move to the front line due to the heavy losses of people who had basic medical training, the supplies were short and the was was getting brutal, specially due to that fucking cold. One night you were trying to get some warm soup in the foxhole you shared with Eugene, you both couldn’t feel your fingertips as if they seemed to be frozen so you decided to try and warm your hands while eating something. 

“Y/L/N” came from a hard and harsh voice from behind, you were caught by surprise as you jumped from the scare “Y/L/N did I get your name right?”

“Yes sir!” you quickly said

“Pleased to meet you, I guess you know who I am. What are you and Roe doing here? It’s not safe enough you should stay aways from the line” he said as you both nodded quickly taking your belongings and starting to move, he kept watching you and offered his hand to pull you from the foxhole to which you said a shy “thank you”, his hands were strong and warm and you had to fight the urge to ask him how he could keep them so warm in the freezing temperature, but you didn’t said a word. 

Holding a gun in his hand he slowly and carefully escorted you through the white snow. Eugene was following you two but suddenly Joe Toye called for his help with something else. Speirs even helped you to settle in the new foxhole, putting some twigs and sticks to reinforce the cover. He then wished you goodnight before disappearing again. The man walked like a shadow between the lines, you took your time to thank the guy from above that he was at your side in this war, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you thought that he was the enemy.

Just a couple of days later the only thing the men would talk about was how the now Captain Speirs ran through the streets of Foy to link up with I Company after he released Foxhole Dike from his position and how bravely and fearlessly led Easy. The guys were so happy to have a good leader again, you were happier too because it meant now they were saffer.

The fourth time he was shot in his butt during one of your night shifts back at the Aid Station, he was soaking wet, pale and so tired that he didn’t have the energy to be stubborn. You asked what happened and Sergeant Lipton said he was hit while going across the river into the germans territory to get some information on the germans. You promptly gave him some medicine and started to take care of his wound as fast as you could. 

It was strange but you kept your cool and gave your best to stay calm and do your job as if he was just another guy. Except he wasn’t, after the bullet was removed he let out a big sigh of relief and as the medicine was starting to kick in he slowly falled asleep in a feverish state.. You couldn’t help yourself and stare at the man you’ve been thinking about for so long, you stayed by his side trying to quietly read a book but your eyes would move away from it and watch how his eyelashes peacefully rested, how soft his facial expression was and how his now slightly wet hair was falling in his forehead. 

You reached your hand to it with the excuse to feel his temperature, he was burning hot and as you were taking a wet piece of cloth to use it to cool him off a bit he opened those same green eyes you’ve been thinking about.

“Am I gonna make it?” he said with a weak voice and caught your hand in his

“Yes” you said, but this time you were 100% sure and when you realized you were smiling at him, he gave you a cute smile back before closing his eyes and falling asleep again. He was certainly a handsome man but on that night you could swear he looked like one of those princes from fairy tales your mom would tell you at bedtime. You couldn’t help but think how he could be soft and yet so stern, so scary but also so gentle and caring, you felt sympathy for the Devil after all. 

The next day he was feeling so much better and tried to get away as quickly as possible but you preferred to stay cautious and ordered him to stay a bit longer, which he couldn’t refuse and finally gave in. After some minutes of awkward silence he started to small talk asking where you are from, if you had any siblings back home and even if you had a boyfriend. You tried your best to keep talking just to keep him with you a bit longer but your peace was interrupted when a couple of soldiers came by heavily wounded and you were required to take care of them. 

When you finally came back he was gone, he only left a note apologizing for leaving without a proper goodbye but promised he would somehow make it up to you later. 

Of course he did it as soon as you set foot at Berchtersgarden, there the mood was totally different, especially after the german army officially surrendered. He took you out to enjoy some coffee at this beautiful place with an incredible view of the mountains, even through you thought that the view of the captain in front of you was even better.

You were so happy with everything that you couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear and as you reached from his hand across the table, he didn't moved it and intertwined your fingers, then gave you a sincere and beautiful smile, you felt butterflies all over your stomach because you felt more than just sympathy for the Devil.

Taglist: @mads-weasley , @footprintsinthesxnd , @sweetxvanixlla , @xxluckystrike , @malarkgirlypop , @lostloveletters , @next-autopsy , @ewipandora

[obsidiancreates]

Mac and Cheese, Please

(Drug warning, sort of. It’s macaroni, which is a drug in the VT universe, but it’s also just... actual macaroni, like mac and cheese. But with drug effects.)

Anti laid on the couch, eyes closed. The room was silent, and he could physically feel his boredom, like someone was pressing down on his brain with a potato masher. 

“So... any new plans lately?” Jimmy asked, his usually energy-filled voice hushed and hesitant.

Anti sighed. “N̡o͜. “ He sat up and opened his eyes. “ I̶ h̴a͟ve͢n't ̨ha͠d̛ ͠a҉ ͡ģooḑ ̀plan in m͜ont̴hs,” he admitted, his cheeks reddening a bit. “W̵hy d̵o ̧y͞ou͞ ̡th͘i̴nk͟ ̸I҉ şpend͝ so ̶m̶u͠c͟h̸ time wit̷h yo͠ư and̛ Wilfo͠rd?”

“Oh.” Jimmy ran his finger along the dull end of Knifey. “I thought you had big ideas?”

“I'̸m͠ tŕyi͜ǹg̶ t̕o! It'̕s ̡h̨aŕd! ͘T̶h̢e fan̴s ̢w͢il͢l ̴ge҉t ͟sįck̨ of t̕he ̵same̵ ͘old ͘s̴h͟it̨ h͝ap̡pe͢n̶ing ęv͞ęry ţim͞e, a̢nd ̀I ͘caņ't̢ ̧let t̀he͜m ͢s̸t̕o͢p paýi͠ng a͢t̀t̛e̵nti̶on!”

Jimmy winced. “That sucks.”

“Y̢e͘a̶h͢.” Anti stared at the wall. “Wha̴tev͡e̵r̛.̧ Do̡ ́y̡o͞u h͝a͟v͠è ̶any̨ ͞foo̡d?̸ I'͏m͟ s̶t̸a҉rv̕ing.̸”

“Let me see...” Jimmy pat his pocket. “Um... I have this that i stole from Toast.” He pulled a tupperware container from... somewhere, and handed it to Anti. “It’s really strong though! I gave some to Spooker and he went crazy!”

Anti opened it up, and then looked at Jimmy with a raised eyebrow. “It͝'̛s fu͟c̵k҉in' m͘ac an̛d͢ ͏c͝h̛ee̛sę.”

Jimmy nodded. “Like I said, it’s really strong! Toast’s batches always are.”

“I͡t͞'s̷ p͡r͝oba͟bl͡y ҉co͏l҉d͡ by͏ now.̕..” Anti muttered. He sniffed it. “Smel͟l͜s̡ ͜good͝ ̡tho͠ug̴h.̛ Not̀ ͢t͜h̵at͞ Kraf͢t cr̕a͡p͝.̛”

Jimmy laughed. “Like Toast would ever have that low quality macaroni! He makes it all himself. I’m a little afraid of the stuff, honestly. But I wanted to make him mad, so I just powered through it.”

“Yo͟u͜'r҉e a̧frai͡d͝..́. ́o͟f ̛m̛a̡c̸ar͞o͟n͡i̕?”

“I have nightmares that it tries to eat me. It’s very ironic.”

“ Okąy t̀he̵n..̧.͘” Anti looked at the mac again. “Eh, fu̢ćk̛ i͟ţ.̀” He scooped a bit out with his fingers and ate it.

Jimmy’s eyes widened as Anti chewed. “That was so much!”

Anti rolled his eyes and swallowed. “H̛o̢w w̛a̡s ́t͜h͜a͠t̕ ͟so̶.̷.. mu͏c͘h.́.͟.̛ ͘w̛hoa.҉.́.

Anti blinked. The world distorted around him. The room stretched out for miles in front of him, and when he looked down the floor was hundreds of feet below.He looked over at Jimmy, only to find that he’d been replaced by what looked hike a very concerned moth. 

“Hey, Anti? You good?”

Anti gestured at Jimmy. “Y̵a ͢got ̴w͢įng͠s,” he slurred.

Jimmy, who was in fact not a moth but a very confused and worried murderer, nodded. “Sure, sure! Why did you- OH. OH, that’s right!” He looked down at Knifey. “You couldn’t have reminded me of that before this?!”

“W̧h̶a'́s͢ th̛e wo̢rm ͡şt̀i̧c̡k͢ s͘áy̸in͠'?̛”

“He’s crazy! And weird! Of course I forgot he doesn’t know!” Jimmy looked over at Anti again. “Don’t move, got it?”

Anti nodded. Jimmy got up and ran out of the room. Anti promptly got up from the couch to follow. 

Wilford had been enjoying a nice mug of hot coco when Jimmy ran in. Google, Dr. Iplier, and Bim all looked up from their tasks, saw the VenturianTale character, and left as quickly as possible.

“Jimmy, old boy! What’re you doing here?” Wilford got and went in for a hug.

“No!” Jimmy dodged the hug and instead used Knifey to point at Wilford. Not as a threat, but for emphasis on how serious he was. “No. Look, I forgot that macaroni from my world is different from yours, and Anti is seriously messed up right now.”

Wilford nodded, his face serious. “Ah, a stomachache.”

“No, drugs! Macaroni is drugs!”

“Oh!” Wilford held up a knife. “Let’s just cut it out then!” He looked around the room. “I could have sworn the doctor was in here a second ago...”

Jimmy considered it. “Not a bad plan, but by now the macaroni is too digested.”

“Bloodletting? Leeches?” 

“All good ideas...” Jimmy pondered the presented possibilities.

Then Anti glitched into the room. He had aimed too low, and half his body was stuck in the floor. The upper half. His legs stuck straight up into the air like tiny edgy trees.

“Oh ho ho, the man of the hour!” Wilford clapped. “This makes my original idea a lot easier! His stomach is right there!”

“T̸he d̸irt is ͡real̨l͝y̧ f̸rięn͡dly d͠own͠ ͢h҉ere.́.͏. ́n̸o͞t l̀i͘k̨e ̧th͘át̀ ̕d̛ir͠t͟ a͘t̸ ͟ḩom̴e.̷.͏.͠” The words were quite muffled when spoken from his mouth, but they also played through the TV speakers and were decently understandable.

“Does your dirt bully you?” Wilford asked, poking at Anti’s abdomen with a needle.

“Pr̕obably. ͞It'͝s ͘p҉r͞o̴bab͜ly̕ g͝o͜t bet͜te̵r͠ id̕ea̕s̕ ̕t̶ha͞n̛ I̵ ̧d͘o ̕t͘o̡o͠.”

Wilford looked over at Jimmy, who was searching on his phone for where to get leeches. “Does it always make people depressed?”

Jimmy shook his head. “It affects everyone differently. Ghost goes all weird and woobly, Toast just relaxes, the Acachallas either don’t get affected or have permanent affects...”

“What about you?” Wilford pushed the needle into Anti’s stomach. Anti giggled a bit, then coughed (probably from inhaling dirt).

“That stuff scares the crap outta me! I may be insane but I’m not that insane!”

Wilford got out a cleaver. He frowned at it. “Aww, I wanted a butterfly knife!” He shrugged. “Well, beggars can’t be choosers!” He laughed and began trying to figure out how to get Anti’s stomach open without the glitch being pissed when he got normal again.

“Okay, one second.” Jimmy sighed, called a number on his phone, and waited. “Hello? Yeah, I need to talk to Toast. What do you mean you aren’t with him? Where are you? IT’S HIS PHONE! SPOOKER GIVE IT TO TOAST OR I SWEAR YOU WILL NEVER STOP HEARING MY SECRET! Good! So, Toaster boy! I gave one of my pals macaroni. What should I do? We’re thinking we’ll carve out his stomach and get some leeches- okay, calm down! Yes, I took the mac, okay. Just SHUT UP AND LISTEN-”

Wilford, meanwhile, tossed aside the cleaver. He stood up, spit into his hands, rubbed his fabulous mustache, and grabbed hold of Anti’s ankles. He yanked on them.

Didn’t budge. 

He tried again. 

Same result.

He narrowed his eyes. Challenge accepted.

Dark walked into his living room expecting to sit down, read a book, and plot getting revenge on Actor.

Instead he found Jimmy Casket yelling into a phone about macaroni, Antisepticeye’s lower torso and legs sticking up out of his floor, and Wilford furiously pulling at Antisepticeye’s legs.

Dark had an internal conflict. He could stay, watch them, make sure they don’t fuck up his house.

Or he could leave, let them mess everything up, but spare himself the headache and weariness.

He backed out of the room. He didn’t have time for this. The was going to read one of Celine’s favorite books, chaos be damned. 

He’d just send Google in to deal with things.

[yunisverse]

(wanted to do a follow up to this fic)

Two steps into the kitchen, Henry’s foot finds a banana peel. He lets out a yelp as he’s sent skidding across the linoleum, before hitting the counter and collapsing in a tangle of limbs.

“Henry! Just in time!” Bendy leans over the countertop he’s sat upon, grinning in devilish glee. He holds out a mixing bowl. “Yer lady friend’s helpin’ us make banana bread!”

He tilts the bowl to show off their concoction, and a healthy dollop splats down onto Henry’s vest.

“Is she now.” He shoots a glance over at Linda, who has taken a seat at the kitchen table as far from the chaos as possible. She gives him a wan smile. Alice dozes on the chair across from her.

Suddenly Henry is hoisted from the floor, Boris setting him on his feet again with a cheerful apology. While Boris dusts him off, Henry gets a proper look at the carnage. Flour coats every available surface in the kitchen. A distinct smell hangs in the air of something burning, with an undertone of banana. Bendy giggles madly as he whisks at his bowl with extreme enthusiasm, occasionally stopping to let Boris add more eggs and sugar. Very, very carefully, Henry makes his way over to Linda.

“You said you’d keep them busy.”

“Seems they keep themselves busy.” Linda shrugs. “Trying to stop them just put me in the line of fire.”

Henry leans against the table, watching the madness unfold. “Mm. I could’ve saved a lot of trouble if I’d realized that as fast as you.” He sighs heavily. “Telling Bendy what he can or can’t do only ever leads to a bigger disaster...”

She nods. “It’ll be a mess, but some harmless fun is what they need. Besides, maybe they’ll learn something when they have to help clean it up.”

Henry chuckles slightly. The Toons had probably never needed to mop up their own messes before. That would be an adventure all its own.

There’s a moment of silence as he watches Boris pull out the potato masher, offering it to Bendy with reverence. For better or worse, his kitchen had never been so lively.

A touch on his hand catches his attention. He turns to find Linda leaning close--even sitting, she’s nearly his height.

“You should call Elias.”

His mouth presses into a hard line. “You were listening.”

Linda’s brow arches. “No. It’s obvious.” Her hand squeezes his gently. “He deserves to know. There’s no reason to keep dragging this out.”

Henry sighs, rubbing at his face with his free hand. “I... I know. It’s... I went through so much back there. I had a lot of time to think, and, and to consider, and...” He takes a deep breath. “There’s so much I want to say... to everyone.” 

He looks at Linda’s hand on his. Every freckle, wrinkle and vein on her slim fingers stood in contrast to his paper-white, inhumanly smooth skin. Was it even skin, anymore? 

“I can’t... There’s nothing I can say without... this getting in the way.” His hand rests on the bowtie permanently affixed to his neck. “Peggy and Horace didn’t even recognize me, Linda. There’s no way I can talk to him without it looking like I’m hoping for some sort of magical fix to this. He... he’ll just hate me more.”

“He doesn’t hate you, Henry.” She cups her hand around his cheek. He has to wonder how strange it must feel. “I don’t know about what’s happened to you, but I know you, and I know our son. You’re both stubborn, and proud. So--”

“INCOMING!”

Linda jerks back, but Henry has no time to dodge. A whole bowl of batter comes crashing down over his head, inedible sugary slime splattering over his shoulders and running thick down the back of his neck. Slowly, he reaches up to lift the bowl from his head, squinting through the glop in his hair to see Bendy and Boris desperately trying to point each other out as the culprit.

He hears Linda cough in a vain attempt to restrain her laughter. Henry groans, letting the lid of the bowl down over his face again. “How am I going to get anywhere like this...”

“Dear, please.” Linda’s breath is hitched in that way where he can hear her smile and warmth, and he tries to shrink in on himself as she lifts the bowl off his head. She brushes a bit of batter off her own blouse, and smiles sadly. “It’s a real mess, I know. But we can clean it up.”

Henry smiles back in spite of himself.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Dusty to Do

Story Post

“What? Dude, just use one of Vi’s eggs. That’ll get it done.” “Are you sure?” “Yeah, let me know when you want to do it, and I’ll get you a fresh one.” When Dusty came home with the groceries, Lino and Yori were hanging out in the kitchen talking. He hadn’t a clue what they were talking about but they stopped anyway when they saw him and smiled to him as he set Grey down so he could put the groceries away. “Hey, man,” Lino said. “Did you get my text about the eggs?” “I did, I got them,” Dusty said pulling a carton out of a grocery bag. “Sweet, you're aces, dude,” Lino said.

Dusty set the groceries down on the counter and started unpacking them. “Yori, it's good to see you. Is the family around?” “No, it's just me,” Yori said, smiling. “Ruben has work and Dante took the kids to his parents for a visit.” “Oh, I haven't seen the Mannans in so long,” Dusty reminisced. “Not that we ever properly met... How are they?” “They haven't changed,” Lino said. “Mama's just greyer and Papa's moustachier.” “Is your father still in sales?” Dusty asked. “Yeah, but higher up in management now.” “Good for him.” “Have you told Dante yet?” Dusty frowned and glanced at Yori. “No.” “Don't worry about Yori,” Lino said. “He knows. He won't tell.” “You told him?” Dusty snapped. “Lino—” “—I didn’t tell him. Fuck off,” Lino retorted. “Yori's like a small god. He knows and senses shit.” Yori nodded as he ate a spoonful of icing from a tub. “We're talking about Grey, right?” Dusty sighed. “You're not mad, are you?” Yori shook his head quickly. “If anything, I'm a little jealous. I've wanted to have more of Dante and Ruben's babies for a while now but they won't let me.” “I say just do it,” Lino said. “They'll accept it when it happens like the first time.” Yori just shrugged. “I wouldn't,” Dusty said. “While I love my son more than anything, the circumstances of his birth aren't what I would've wanted for him. I hate all these lies and secrecy...” “So just tell Dante,” Lino said. “I-I will,” Dusty said. “But I need the right time. And...And what then when he knows? He'll hate me... I know for sure Ruben will hate me too.” Yori shrugged again. “Ruben already hates you.” Dusty pouted. “I know.” “So what?” Lino asked. “Ruben hates me too. That's what’s fun about it.” “But that's different,” Dusty said. “You're not an ex, you're Dante's brother. You're allowed to be near him. You're family. And you're not lying about anything.” “I'm lying about a lot of things,” Lino said. “All the time. I'm seeing someone about it. That's a lie, Vi wants me to see someone about it, but I haven't had the chance. That's a lie, I just don’t want to.” Yori chuckled and stirred his icing. Dusty sighed. “Honestly, I don't want to talk about this right now...” “Okay, okay...” Lino yawned and rubbed the back of his neck. “God, I'm so fucking tired these days.” “Well, you were sick last week,” Dusty said. “You humans take a while to recover your energy.” “True enough...” Lino shrugged. “I can't wait for December when we get to just fly away and chillax.” “You fly away?” Dusty asked. “Where do you go?” “Cuba,” Lino said grinning. “Vi can't handle the cold so we up and fly away like a bunch of snow birds for a family vacation.” “What about Kidd? They have school,” Dusty said. “Kindergarten ain't fuckin' mandatory,” Lino scoffed. “Besides, my Kidd's too smart for their age anyhow. They just go to learn social skills.” “Oh...” Dusty frowned. “You just leave like that? What about...you know...here? Your brother and family? You guys do the whole holidays thing, don't you?” “Yeah, we do...” Lino said. “Typically though we just get their gifts ahead of time and leave ‘em in a storage locker and give Dante the key. He's too goody two shoes to let them open it ahead of Christmas.” “But what about the get together part? Don't you want to have dinner with your family?” “We do that almost every night,” Lino said. “And we'll do it in Cuba too. On the beach with my family: Vi and Kidd.” Lino shrugged. “Heck, this year you're here. You're family too. You can come with us.” “Oh, um...” Dusty shook his head. “I can't... I can't actually travel that far away from here.” “What?” Lino frowned. “Why? Look, money's not a problem.” “No, it's, well... I'm Dante's demon,” Dusty said. “I can't go that far from his hometown.” Lino huffed. “That's ridiculous. What if he travels somewhere?” “Well, I mean, if he travels, I still have to stay near his home area unless he invites me... Though, when he leaves, I do feel it. It hurts a bit.” “Let me get this straight,” Lino said, crossing his arms. “So you're saying for like twenty years, you avoided seeing Dante but still had to live here in this city and every time he decided to go ‘find his roots' in Florence or whatever, you had to stay here and suffer?” Dusty rubbed his arm and looked down. “I mean, I was used to it. When you put it like that, it sounds pretty bad...” “Jesus, Dusty,” Lino huffed. “You need to break that fucking bond, dude.” “It's not that simple,” Dusty said shaking his head. “The only way I've ever seen a bond broken before was when the human died.” “There has to be another way,” Lino said. Dusty shrugged. “Syd's the most knowledgeable person I know and they love research, so they told me they'd look into it when they took me in, but it's been so long... They probably didn’t find anything.” “I wouldn't rely on someone who dumps you as soon as they decide to go on vacation,” Lino said. “Syd’s not on vacation,” Dusty said. “Then where are they?” Dusty looked away, realising he'd slipped up. “...I can't say.” “What's the big deal? You can tell me,” Lino said. “No, I'm not even supposed to know,” Dusty said. “It's incredibly private.” “Geez, now I just want to know more,” Lino said. “I won't tell anyone.” “No, Lino. I really can't tell you,” Dusty said. “I trust you, but you can't ever be sure who's listening.” “Ughhhh,” Lino rolled his eyes. “Fine...” He checked his watch. “Fay's coming soon. I'm gonna check if Vi's done his bath.” He waved and headed off upstairs. Dusty finished putting away the rest of the groceries and collected Grey who'd started looking through the bottom cupboards. He'd found a wire potato masher than was now his favourite toy. Yori finished his icing and tossed out the container. “So, are our kids siblings then?” “I suppose, technically just Grey and Marco,” Dusty whispered. “But I don't really like talking about these kind of things around Grey.” “Why not?” Yori asked. “It's just... Listen, it's just not something I've gotten into with him,” Dusty explained. “He's only three. I don't want him worrying about parentage and things like that just yet.” “Hmm... Alright then,” Yori said. “Thank you.” The doorbell rang and Dusty perked up. “Must be Fay.” Dusty's palms started to sweat. “I haven't seen him since... Well, his wedding I suppose...” “I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you then,” Yori said enthusiastically. “I know I would if I hadn't seem someone in so long.” Dusty smiled looking at the dog spirit. “I'm sure you would.” He looked down to Grey and then offered him to Yori. “Could you watch him while I answer the door?” “Sure.” Dusty handed him over and went to the front hall to answer the door. When the door opened, Fay was standing there with a tablet in arms waiting patiently. When he saw who answered the door, he looked a bit confused. “Um, hello. Is Lino there?” Dusty blinked then realised why Fay looked a bit perplexed. “Oh, Fay! It's me, Dusty.” “Dusty?” Fay asked. “That's you?” “Yes, the last time you saw me, I was presenting female,” Dusty said. “This is my male look.” “Oh, I see,” Fay said. “It's been how long?” Dusty scratched the back of his head. “Four years...” “Wow, yeah,” Fay said. “What happened? I thought we were becoming good friends. You were at my wedding.” “Yeah... Stuff happened.” Dusty opened the door wider. “You can come in. Lino and Vi are upstairs.” Fay stepped in and looked around. “So, what are you doing here at Lino's?” “I live here right now...” Dusty said. “You live here?” Fay raised an eyebrow. “Weren't you living with Sydryn?” “I had to move out,” Dusty said. “Why?” “Don't worry about that... This is temporary until I can get a job.” When they got to the kitchen, Fay smiled when he saw Yori with Grey in his lap rearranging the shakers and dispensers on the table. “Hello Yori. And who's this little sweetheart?” Fay asked, beaming down at the child. “This is Grey,” Dusty said walking over and petting Grey's head. “My son.” “Really?” “Yeah, he's grey like Dusty and his name is Grey too, so it should be obvious,” Yori said. “Right. Thanks.” Fay bent over to Grey's level, hands on his knees. “And how old are you, young man?” Grey looked up at him and held up three fingers. Yori smiled. “That means three.” “Wow! Three? You're such a big boy,” Fay said. “I have a little boy your age too. Actually... No wait, I have two three year old sons, I think... Well, anyway they're all pretty close in age. If your father ever visited us, I'm sure you could be friends.” Dusty took Grey from Yori and hoisted him on his hip. “I've been meaning to visit again... I just... I decided to focus on Grey.” “You sound like my husband,” Fay chuckled. “While I love my children, I never really understood the desire to dedicate oneself to their children completely and solely... Everyone needs a little ‘me' time to relax and recuperate.” “Grey is really attached to me,” Dusty said. “He has separation anxiety.” “Does he? Or do you?” Fay asked. “It's Dusty,” Yori said. “Or both.” Dusty sighed and rubbed the back of Grey's head. “Listen, Grey is all I have now... And he's everything to me.” “Alright...” Fay crossed his arms. “You said you needed to find a job... Have you considered applying at APID?” “At APID?” Dusty scratched his cheek. “I don't think I'd be qualified to do anything there...” “Nonsense,” Fay said. “Are you good with technology?” Dusty shrugged. “I'm good with my phone.” “Well, I need a new assistant,” Fay said. “I'm no good with all the new updates and tech they keep trying to integrate into my job...” “You want me to be your assistant?” Dusty asked. “Me working with you?” “Yes, I don’t see why not,” Fay said. “Usually, those jobs are reserved for university students doing internships, but I'm sure I could get them to make an exception for you. Name dropping Sydryn would help too.” “Really?” Dusty lit up. “Fay, it would really help me out.” Fay waved it off. “Don't mention it. We're both benefitting. Since I lost Camilo, I've been a lot more disorganised...” “Do you hear that, Grey?” Dusty said taking his son's hand. “Daddy's gonna make some money for us. We're gonna have our own home soon.” Grey smiled and snuggled his Dad. Fay grinned. “Well, I should get to the point of my visit. You said Vi and Lino were upstairs?” “Yes, the bathroom, I think,” Dusty said. “Thanks.” Fay headed on upstairs. Dusty couldn’t contain his excitement. He gently tossed Grey in the air. “Daddy’s getting a job!” Grey squealed and giggled, reaching for his Dad in the air. “Daddy!” Dusty brought him back down and hugged him. “If this works out, we'll be set...” “Boo.. If you get your own place, you'll move away from us,” Yori whined. “I'll be around. I promise,” Dusty said. “And we're not there yet anyway.” “Alright... Just get an apartment really close.” “I'll try... Rich neighbourhood.” “Then save a lot of money.” “Right...”

[avocado-bruhvado]

A Fist Full of Gil.

Daaaaaaaamn, it’s been a while. Here is some shoddy FF14 writing.

-Story contains foul language, drug use, and violence. -1467 words long.

The floor mat tasted like broken dreams and wasted potential. The putrid smell of failure permeated the air as he laid flat on his face against the ground. The stains of past brawls littered the floor around him like clusters of faded memories. Splotches of blood, sweat, and vomit had turned the once pristine mat into a dingy shadow of it's former self. The crowd roared as the Roegadyn climb on top of the Highlander with a raised fist, ready to finish him off. The head referee bolted over and corralled him away back into the corner. From the side of the ring, an assistant referee rushed over to the downed fighter with his hand held high. "One!" In an exhilarating and brilliant moment, all his senses that laid scattered on the mat came back to him. He took a swift and sharp breath. The humid air filled his lungs with much needed oxygen. With his second wind, he managed to pull himself together enough to roll over on his side. "Two!" Pain churned throughout his body. His limbs burned like he had immersed them in Ifrit's asshole for days. In front of him, the referee slammed his hand into the mat again. "Three!" He had to get back into the fight. He had to try. His arms and legs shook as he summoned all his strength to push himself up and back on to his feet. The world was a mix of blurred shapes and muffled noises. He saw the crowd but couldn't make out their faces or any details. "You ok?" The referee said "Can you tell me your name and what round you're in?" "K-Kazex Voss...round twelve?" "More like round three but good enough." Once on his feet, Kazex raised his fists. The Roegadyn stood up and grunted. He looked bigger than before. What was his name again? Mash Potatoes? Marsha? Masher? Kazex shook his head but it didn't help. The referee patted him on the shoulder and nodded toward the other side of the ring. Kazex stared at him but didn't pick up what he was hinting at. The referee eyes went wide for a second before he darted for the side of the ring. Kazex turned his attention to the other side of the ring. A mass of fury and rage barrelled straight for him. His body tensed up as he braced for the pain that was soon to follow. Each blow that landed caused Kazex to die a little inside. His body shuddered under the force of each fist that smashed into his tender flesh. It felt like a meteor plummeting into the ground over and over. Kazex did his best to deflect what hits he could but his body could not take the strain any longer. He ducked a jab but failed to block against the follow up. The impact crushed his shoulder and sent him into a spin. In his daze, he managed to stumble toward the edge of the ring to prop himself up against the post. The Roegadyn came in fast with his right fist up to finish Kazex off a second time. The world spun. All he could see was three ugly and massive shapes barrelling toward him a second time. Kazex raised his hands to braced for the worse. The crowd's thunderous roar of approval turned into long winded disappointment. Kazex peeked out from behind his guard and tilted his head. His opponent laid face down on the mat. The referee rushed over and began to count. Exhausted, Kazex stumbled over and fell to his knees. Was he dead? The pale faced referee turned to the panel of judges and shook his head. A hand grabbed his and raised it to air. "Congratulations..." The assistant referee said "Champ!" The crowd resumed it's furious roar for blood and cheered for Kazex. He didn't feel like the champ though or much of anything. He stared at the Roegadyn's lifeless body and shook his head. This wasn't right. The walk from the ring to the locker room was unsatisfying. It was hollow. His new fans reached out to their champion only to receive a half hearted shrug. They called his name, sang his praise, and placed him on a pedestal meant for gods. Kazex kept his eyes forward and his feet moving as fast as he could. Escape could not come fast enough. He spent hours sitting in the empty locker room, thinking to himself. What happened? He shouldn't have won that fight. The Roegadyn shouldn't have died like that. The door to the locker room opened up. A Lalafell in a nice suit walked in with a grin spanning Ul'dah to Ishgard. He sauntered over to the nearest chair and sat down. "Kazex 'The Boss' Voss," He said "When they told me you wanted to fight The Mad-Eye Masher, I thought you wanted a death wish. Six months ago, my colleagues thought you were crazy but lo and behold, we were wrong." Kazex stared at the Lalafell from behind his long black hair. Dealing with him was the last thing he wanted to do. His voice reminded him of a chocobo dragging it's claws along stone. "What do you want, Halo?" "You best remember whom you're talking to, boy. You also best remember who got you that title shot. I invested a lot into this and now, I'm here to congratulate you on your victory. You made a lot of us a hefty profit." "It was a one sided fight. I didn't deserve it." "Lalafell's ass. Look here, boy. I came here with a bag of gil with your name on it. Now you have two choices: take the money and live it up for a while or sulk like a chump. I don't care." The Lalafell stuck out his right hand. A large gem sitting pretty on a ring caught Kaxez's attention. Halo wiggled the massive rock several times and smiled. "Go on. You offended me." Halo said "Kiss it, be forgiving, and never forget what you are." Kazex tightened his fists. His body began to burn. How easy would it be to snap the little rat's neck? And all the necks of his associates that would come for blood? The thought tired him out. It was the last thing he wanted to deal with, especially after today. Kazex narrowed his eyes, got on one knee and pressed his lips on the gem for several gruelling seconds. "There's a good boy." Halo said "See, that wasn't so hard was it?" The Lalafell laughed and snapped back his hand. He slapped Kazex with the force of a weak child before hopping off the chair. The hotness returned. Kazex watched with all the restraints he had left as Halo walk to the door. Before he left, he turned to laugh one last time. "A worthless bag of meat." He said "You'll never be nothing more than that. Enjoy your merger life while you can." Kazex sat in silence. Outside, the sounds of a bustling Ul'Dah nightlife called out to him. He looked over to the bag of gil and stared at it. "Fuck it." The Quicksand was alive and kicking that night. Kazex made his way to the bar and sat down in the nearest seat. The music and crowd were what he was looking for. He signaled to the bartender and plopped his bag of gil onto the hardwood. "I'll have the finest drink in the house." He said "Make it a double." A short and gorgeous Miqo'te with blonde hair and silky tail leaned in next to him. She purred as she smiled. He delicate finger ran up and down his arm as she spoke. "You can't afford me twice, sweetness..." She said "But for you, champ, I'll make an exception." That voice. That purr. It was unmistakable. He turned his head and smiled back at Rose. "Did you watch my fight?" "If I wanted to watch a slab of meat get tenderized for 45 minutes, I'd wear my red shoes and nylons. You look like Titan rubbed your face up and down his ass crack a few times too many. You better make it a triple." "Whoa whoa. I got local Bush League champ money, not Worlds! But I'll buy you a drink?" "Save it, Champ. A girl's gotta pace herself. I'm three deep with no fuel in the tank. Speaking of which, duty calls..." Kazex watched as Rose saunter over to her next victim and slid her arm around his waist. Her slender fingers worked stole his attention as well as his money purse. When Kazex turned his head, his drinks where pinning down a small note. He looked around several times. The crowd seemed distant to him, like he was the only one there at that moment. Curious, he unfolded the paper. "Stardust Pluto OD."