#it's going to make me chew all the drywall in my house

[littlethingwithfeathers]

*opens mouth to scream about Severance but the only sound that comes out is an elevator ding*

[sparkdoesart]

I took a sniff of you once. Stinkiest thing I ever smelled. Smelled like layers upon layers of cat. *Stinky* cat. There was something else, with it, too… It had an *edge.* I mean, apart from the stinky cat smell. I mean, you are a stinky cat. So the smell of a stinky cat is the smell of a stinky cat plus this edge, right? A set can contain more than the set is itself or something. I don’t know mathematics. Anyway, this *edge…* there were lemon. Orange. Tangerine. Citrus, citrus, citrus… that was the strongest part of the edge- no, no, no. Not citrus. *Acid*.* there was some citrus in the edges yes, but it was more general acid. Like stomach. Like vinegar, mmm vinegar… like hydrochloric. Say, have you ever had your arm eaten off by acid? Hurts like hell, doesn’t it. At least you can go get a new one at the acid refund shop. God, where would we be without those guys… I got a new arm from them once. Fucked up my claws. Returned to them and said ‘hey you fucked up my claws’ and they were like ‘ok and’ and I was like ‘can I get a new one’ and they were like ‘sorry no refunds’ and I was like ‘yeah but that��s what you do you give refunds’ and they were like ‘we don’t refund our own refunds’ and so anyway that’s the story of how I ended up with claws made out of plastic and wood and, I don’t know was it wolf fur? It was some type of fur I took it to a seasoned taxidermist about a year after they got my claws wrong and they said it was wolf fur. But I’m not ahundy cent sure. Anyways that on my right arm for a week. And then I was like ‘fuck it this hurts’ and grew new ones. Have you seen my claws? I think you have. They’re beautiful aren’t they. Real pieces of work. Did you know I often break into people’s houses in the middle of the night and graffiti their drywall with my super awesome claws? Sure, I get implicated in the odd home invasion case but it really is fun to hear about all the people who have stuff like ‘gorm’ and ‘gorp’ and ‘gort’ and ‘gorg’ and ‘gorb’ clawed into their wall. Have you done anything similar? I know you’re mischievous and all that — all cats are, aren’t they? I mean, look at Rico. He sure is a piece of work. He once chewed my leg of. Couldn’t go to the acid refund shop as he’s not an acid. I mean he could be. He could have acid in those cute lil fangs of his but that’s beside the point. Anyway I could go there because he’s presumably not acidic. So I had to spend the energy to regrow it, you know how it is. Except every night he’s come in, take a little nibble out of my regrowing leg. An he kept at this for *years*. So instead of the usual sixth months, I was a leg down for 8 years. God, to think I’ve known rico for twice that amount… anyways, once it was done he told me about it and we laughed it off. Good prank, too. Rico also once threw me into deep space. I was out on a spacewalk, he cut the tether, the rest is history… I was out there floating for about two months. Before I got a lift from some guy in a Honda Civic. Don’t know how he got it spaceworthy, but it was comfortable enough. Those two months were nice too, got to spend all that time looking at the stars as I slowly tumbled through them. Now I know all my star charts. Also solved plinko, but that’s a story for another time. Where were we? Mischievous cats! June is a cat, isn’t she? Well. *Some* of the time at least. Do you know June? She’s a real banger. Loves eating all your files and laughing maliciously. I opened a message from her once on my phone and it got straight up haunted and floated away. Never saw that phone since. No idea how she did it, either. She might’ve possessed it for all I know. Also hear her laughing sometimes when I’m in my bed. Her laughs carry really far, y’know? Anyways. You. You you you you. Ruffles your head. Pats you vigorously. You’re also a piece of work. You *make* pieces of work. You’re a pretty damn good artist. You draw ghost with those sad wet eyes. You should give yourself a pat on the back. Or I mean since I’m already patting you I could do it for you. Anyways. Do you have any spare human souls? Like f

(Will do part 2 in a moment)

A very nice conversation :]

[in-death-we-fall]

MY THOUGHTS

In general, a lot of the melodies are Weird. Like that's not how I'd expect it to be sung.

1. One Assassination Under God

Abbreviating it as OAUG is so funny to me. It's like what you'd say getting hit in the stomach.

Re: the video, I need to put my tongue in his mouth please thanks

ASSASSINATION

(if you don't know, the pledge of allegiance in US schools includes the line "one nation, under god" so that's the reference)

2. No Funeral Without Applause

"Just a little cut to make it all feel better" does have me kinda AAAAAAAAAA because I have problems at the moment and obviously HE'S NOT WRONG, IT DOES DO THAT

3. Nod If You Understand

"Who would wanna wake up if this is their world?" 🙂

4. As Sick As The Secrets Within

One candidate for what gave Wednesday chills

The VIDEO: I am CHEWING THROUGH THE DRYWALL. Like he's hot, obviously, but then the sitting on the floor doing art?????? Help

The song: Obsessed. Very well done. Very skin crawly. Unfortunately it's also driving me insane, because I'm back on my bullshit with wanting nothing more than to do substances to get out of my skin for a bit, but the logic and the terror mean I can't, so I've gotta just sit here screaming inside.

5. Sacrilegious

Youtube notified me that I was a top listener for whatever month, and that was mostly because of how many times I watched this video. Love it. I have been inflicting the album on my mother (because if time gets to be a flat circle for her and her bullshit, I can make her listen to music she doesn't like while I'm stuck in her house), and after talking constantly over everything else, this was the song she Scoffed at.

6. Death Is Not A Costume

I'm not sure I really get this one. There's like 2 or 3 different stories going on? "I'll break your sunshine to scare my shadow away" is pretty a pretty badass line though

7. Meet Me In Purgatory

This has been stuck in my head a lot.

8. Raise The Red Flag

This was the single I could take or leave, especially cause I didn't think the video was very cool, but I like it more now.

9. Sacrifice Of The Mass

The other candidate for what gave Wednesday chills. Threatens to give me chills actually.

[floorboardchompingfridays]

*Me messaging my mutuals on anon*:

“Hey, I’m so so sorry if this is weird, but I just wanted to say that I think you’re really awesome and super nice and cool 🥰. Reading your fics and posts is the highlight of my day 💕. Seriously, you deserve the world, and I hope all your hopes and dreams come true 🥺. You inspire me and everyone in the fandom with your talent and kindness, and we really don’t deserve a friend as wonderful and special as you. Anyway, I just um, wanted to let you know that, but feel free to delete this it’s annoying or stupid, idk.

*Me DMing my mutuals from my main, posting public comments on their fics, and leaving my thoughts in the tags when I reblog their posts*:

“WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME???? 💔😠 DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY? 😡 DO YOU? DO YOU THINK PUTTING MY FAVS THROUGH ANGST IS FUNNY??? 🤬 I HOPE YOU DO. I HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT.

BECAUSE I’M ABOUT TO BREAK INTO YOUR HOUSE AND BREAK YOUR TV. I’M GONNA SMASH YOUR WINDOWS, CHEW UP YOUR FLOORBOARDS, MUNCH ON YOUR DRYWALL, STAIN YOUR MOTHER’S GOOD CARPET, AND STEAL ALL YOUR SILVERWARE! I SHALL RELEASE TERMITES AND SKUNKS INTO YOUR HOME! I WILL HAUNT YOUR NIGHTMARES FOR ALL TIME! I WILL CURSE YOUR DESCENDANTS FOR A THOUSAND GENERATIONS! YOU WILL NEVER KNOW ANOTHER DAY OF PEACE!

…AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHEN THE NEXT CHAPTER IS POSTED, BECAUSE IF I DON’T KNOW HOW THIS ENDS I WILL GO INSANE AND MAKE IT EVERYONE’S PROBLEM.

*aggressively smashes keyboard*

[saiintvalentiine]

THIS IS AN ASK ENCOURAGING YOU TO WORD VOMIT ABOUT YOUR WIPS!!!

~ ✧✦✧

WIP TALK WIP TALK

I have like 5 active WIPs but I'm gonna talk about 2 in particular: wingfic au and actively modified au

wingfic has me MISERABLE because I want to go back and forth on POVs but I have no skill for Parrot's POV omggggg it's so HARD but also I have to like................contrive a way to make everything work out in the end and I'm DUMB bro. deeply tempted to just skip over all the hard parts but then that'd leave a patchy narrative.

Some of my favorite bits of it so far:

Polite Parrot

Wifies doesn't sleep in late, or even very much in general, but Parrot always wakes at the crack of dawn. He's polite about it— won't make too much noise, won't knock on Wifies’s door before noon, that kind of stuff. He was so polite about Wifies being unable to fly, too, letting his birdcage house languish as they found a different corner of the world to build an earth-bound hideout that Wifies could navigate without having to finagle an Elytra on. He doesn’t ask about it, but Wifies is pretty sure that’s because he’s waiting for the day that Wifies to arrive sleep-warm and vulnerable to the kitchen where he’ll be able to pry as much as he possibly can out of Wifies’s quiet mouth. Parrot will have to pull him to pieces to find out, so Wifies has been contemplating taking a sabbatical from Unstable. He’s pretty sure he’s falling sick, anyway, and he’s got to figure out how he’s going to check that he isn’t introducing rust into his body.

and Honey Toast

He [Wifies] wants to be done with this. He wants to crawl in a hole and be unbothered. He wants Parrot to sharpen his sword for him and make fun of him for eating honey toast, until Wifies holds a piece to his mouth for a taste.

You may be asking: saiint, why honey toast? and I say: guys please sharing a sweet little treat is all I have in this world, I love it when characters hold food out for each other!!!!

Actively modified au is from this post I made and I just cannot stop thinking about it. What if Ken and Wifies went off to a world together after the april fools stuff just to relax and Ken got to witness the material consequences of Evilfies's desires. I'm chewing on drywall. help. This one is notably less fleshed out than wingfic (about 2k words less) but I feel like it'd be easier to finish??? so I think I'll focus on it more

Favorite bits so far:

The initial discussion

“Loser,” Ken calls out as Wifies swims to shore and pulls himself out. “We gotta sleep. These phantoms are unbearable.” “No,” Wifies says automatically, shaking his hair out and whipping his axe at the few stray phantoms left. “Every time I go to sleep, I wake up and something’s changed.” “What?” Ken says, daylight breaking through the horizon just as the last phantom dies. “What does that mean?” Wifies glances over, and Ken’s concerned expression surprises him. A lot of things have been surprising him lately. “Um. When I sleep. I wake up with something changed. So I try to not sleep.” “That—” Ken’s expression twists. Wifies can't tell what exactly he's feeling, but his tail is ramrod straight, fur standing on end. “That won't happen here. It shouldn't, and it won't. Nothing like that has ever happened to me in any world I've been in, and it's not gonna start now.” Wifies wants to believe him. Ken hasn't lied to him so far, not when they met or when he took Wifies’s hand or brought Wifies to a whole new world to explore, but he can't believe him now. Wifies may have lived a life full of lies and fantasy, but this was real. He knows it's real. He knows something happens every time.

Living with the Evidence:

“Ken,” he says again, voice tinged with something ugly. He looks into the river, and his mismatched eyes look back— one a pale grey, the other a deep black. “Why are my eyes different colors?” “What?? Mine are different too,” Ken frowns, pushing his bangs back from his forehead as if that’ll help somehow. “His weren’t, though.” “. . . No, they weren’t.” Wifies touches the corner of his grey eye and pulls it down a bit. There, under the waterline, is the faintest red line. If he pulls up his upper lid, he knows he'll see its mirror. “I fell asleep one day,” Wifies says slowly, turning each word over like a stone. “And when I woke up, my eye hurt. I didn’t get a lot of chances to see myself. There weren’t mirrors in the rooms, and iron tools were rare, water even rarer. But one day I finally got to see myself, and my eye was different. It wasn’t always grey.” Wifies doesn’t look at Ken. He can tell that the idea is taking root in Ken’s mind, his fingers tightening where they hold Wifies. Wifies doesn’t know the truth, but there’s the shape of a truth there, and it looms over him with a hundred sharpened teeth. “It’s not that I don’t want to believe you. I just. . . live with the evidence.”

so much writing to do so little time!!! do we have a preferred WIP so far chat. do we have thoughts. would we like elaboration on either. im going crazy out here. is anybody out there.

[erstwhilesparrow]

hi. i. uh?? okay. okay one second. i'm making another list.

i do not even a little bit believe that i'll be able to keep up with owen's pirates streams from here on out, but i've seen i think his first... seven? and there's a moment in one of them where he figures out that he can set the camera to do cinematic opening shots live on stream. watching his new episode and thinking about that makes me feel like chewing through electrical wires. he's good at this and i adore watching him be good at this!! show me the guts and bones of your work and i will never love anyone more.

etho decked out runs! he got out alive in both of them!! i am remembering why etho is my favourite hermitcraft guy. sighing dreamily about his season 7 decked out runs. i love it when people are good at the game. i love it when people know things. (i love it when people know someone's good at the game. thinking fondly of watching techno's minecraft monday with phil and hearing the two of them talk through the other players' competencies. that offhand knowing. this is also why i love post-mcc ~debriefs. give me shop talk PLEASE.)

(also wondering: have seen talk about how decked out feels alive and am deeply interested in this because it feels right up my alley but it. doesn't quite read that way to me? not that i completely disagree but more. huh. i'm less Wildly Excited by that idea than i thought i would be. what i've seen feels. illusory or intangible somehow. i want to see decked out's guts. show me the redstone wiring. show me the maintenance tunnels. i bet that'll do it. i know i should just watch tango's videos and maybe i will! but let me sigh longingly first.)

(thinking also about pandora's vault and the thing of-- when other people wanted to recreate its mechanics outside the dsmp, there was one section they just couldn't figure out. they had to use command blocks!! i love that machinery in minecraft is big and clunky and can swallow you up in its guts!! ahh!!)

mr. squishy's pokemon red in minecraft. the stage and ~set dressing was impressive enough, the command blocks laid out underneath actively made me want to weep. that is a computer program!! laid out in (sort of) three dimensional space with no regard for the physics of our reality!! i looked at it and went, "oh, that's an angel."

bdubs's little adventure in the broken woodland mansion. i was already very [chewing on drywall] about the woodland mansion when limited life was first coming out, and i am suddenly vividly remembering why. what the hell was wrong with that house. to have all the signs of a thing you should recognize but none of the actual stuff. empty chests, winding staircases. THAT BIT WHERE THEY GO INTO THE WALLS AND IT DOES WHAT FEELS LIKE SOME MC ESCHER BULLSHIT. and above that, the bridges. the waterlogged roof. everything stripped down to its barest functionality. it's so. you primed them for a death game and then gave them time to throw away. of course it worked out like this. of course.

(memory: i really like the dsmp's landscape? creeper holes everywhere, cobble trails in the nether to mark your path, buildings made out of the cheapest resources you can grab. early dsmp was so pvpers + speedrunners. i love that it showed in their architectural style. i love that there's such a thing as a pvper / speedrunner architectural style, or if not that, then a very particular way those people leave their mark on a minecraft landscape.)

[burntoasters]

I just need to get all of this out because I feel like I’m going to explode.

This is everything that is keeping me awake at night

My job, I hate it. It’s draining and brings me no joy and barely pays anything. It’s extremely stressful and exhausting and I’m tired of having to be in charge.

My house. We have more animals than we told the landlord about. My roommate has three dogs and they tear up the house. There’s holes in the drywall and in the floor. If the landlord where to come inside we would definitely be evicted and I would be homeless. And I would lose my cats.

Speaking of, my favorite cat that has been keeping me alive the last few years is getting sick. I can’t afford to take her to a vet and I feel horrible that I can’t fix her. I don’t deserve her and she’s hurting and I can’t do anything for her.

I got a ticket today because my registration has been expired. It’s expired because lights keep coming on in my car that require money to fix, money that I don’t have. So now I have to pay a ticket when I don’t have enough money to fix the registration in the first place.

I’m pretty sure I have an eating disorder. I eat less than one meal a day. I can’t stand when people watch me eat it makes me want to puke. I only eat certain foods because i can’t stand certain textures. I think this is causing my teeth to also have issues but I’m terrified of going to the dentist because I’m scared they will tell me I have an eating disorder.

I want to die. And not in a funny haha way, as in a contemplate doing it everyday. The different ways I could. What I would do before I did it. Anytime something bad happens in my life, it’s the FIRST option my brain goes to. Can’t be broke or have an eating disorder if your dead.

I have no friends. I have no social life. If I’m not at work, I’m in my room. Sitting in the pitch black watching YouTube because it’s the only thing I have energy to do. Energy required fuel, but fuel requires chewing which means my teeth with bother me. It’s just a never ending spiral and I’ve gone so far down I can’t see the top anymore.

I’m getting closer and closer to just doing it. And that terrifies me.

[finsterhund]

the only thing you seem to "take and take" is abuse and pain from everything and everyone including that crazy woman. Just from reading your blog once in a while it's clear to me that you have a hard life but keep fighting through it. Even if you never hear this from anyone else I'm proud of you

Thank you anon. 🥺🥺🥺 I'm trying to make myself feel better about this. It's hard when I'm literally only drywall and shit away from her. I really want to run away and hide. I'm getting people telling me she might be some form of mentally deranged and that she's old enough for things like dementia or even that she did something to the birds herself but I don't want to blame mental illness for her being cruel and mean. Obviously my roommate said we can't move so I guess the only thing to do is wait for her to die as cruel sounding as that is. I see no way that any form of real civility or friendship can come back after this. It's a complete violation of trust. My roommate wanted to chew her out and get mad at her for it being "slander" and "harassment" I don't really know if it's either but I do know that if he confronts her she's going to get worse because that always happens. I miss the nice lady who used to live there. She was nice to Cazza and her cats would say hi to Cazza and she died of cancer just like Cazza. I wonder why this person started off being nice and giving me things only to then do this. I kept trying to tell her not to give me things but she insisted. Was that just her making it so that she could say I take and take? That's another thing that happens. Adults will "give" you things and then expect things from you. But she doesn't seem to want something from me so it's not just yet more grooming like usual. I'm so burned up and exhausted. I told my roommate I'm too scared to leave the house so he's gonna walk Scott from here on out. Hoping that if I buy myself treats and toys it'll comfort me enough to not want to die anymore but no promises. My brain has just been going "Andy die Andy want go thrift store" on loop all night which I guess is preferable to most else.

I kept trying to think of what I actually did to make her do this to me and treat me this way but my roommate said I didn't actually do anything to deserve it and it's a problem with her and she wanted an excuse to be bad and all that which in theory I understand but unlike weirdos on Twitter this is somebody that is right fucking there in the flesh.

She actually early on brought up unprompted how she hopes birds around here stay safe and nothing bad happens to them because "people are horrible" and I have to wonder if that's some sort of weird projection. I have no idea. But as someone who helped a downed nest of baby crows when I was younger and who would shoo off outdoor cats when they were outside my window chasing things up trees it's very insulting to have the blame thrust on me.

[astaroth1357]

What Would it be like to Switch Bodies with the Brothers

In honor of the swap event I suppose (but also needed an easy prompt because I’ve been really busy trying to clean/fix our house and the exhaustion is getting to me)

Lucifer

… Feel the power.

They would literally be so tall and so strong it’d be insane. The kind of body that’d make them want to break things because it’d just be So. Easy. They feel like they’re one of the strongest people in the room and they’ll start to believe it too!

But also, so much fatigue… Lucifer probably deals with muscle tension and back pain because of all the paperwork and stress so they’d be feeling all of that too...

Using his commanding powers would also be hella fun (and easy to abuse) so someone like Barbs is probably going to have to follow them around to be sure the mere mortal doesn’t get drunk on the sudden power...

Bonus:

Lucifer wants out of their body NOW. He hit his toe against a wall and is STILL limping it off… It’s humiliating and he hates feeling this fragile so somebody fix this!!!

Mammon

Why can’t I stop stealing things…?!?

Mammon’s hands practically have a mind of their own… The MC keeps walking by places and casually slipping other people’s things in their pockets without realizing it. It’s like a reflex!

It’s kind of bizarre for everyone else to watch because, from the outsider’s perspective, it’s scumbag Mammon taking their things… then apologizing like five seconds later then handing them back. He’s losing some thief cred over this for sure...

Aside from that, they have almost never-ending energy too so even the sleepiest MC is going to be bouncing off walls… Good luck to everyone else.

Bonus:

Mammon is now literally in the body of his favorite person and has zero clue how to feel about it. If he hugs himself is that like getting a hug from the MC…? 🤔 One thing is for certain though, he’s going to be glued to their hip the entire time. I hope they’re used to seeing themselves (literally).

Levi

aaaaaaAAAAAAAAaaaAAAAAaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhHHHHHHhhhh STOP THE RIDE!! I want OUT of this nightmare!!!

They find out very quickly why Levi distracts himself so much: they feel inadequate All. The. Time.

If they can doubt themselves in any capacity, they will. If they walk into a room, they’ll instantly feel the (non-existent) judgement. If something makes them feel even slightly bad then it can snowball out of control. It’s… It's hell, it’s actual hell.

Chances are they’re going to end up a blubbering mess about as often as Levi if they don’t find a way to distract themselves too… 😔

Bonus:

Poor Levi is trying his best to help them manage being him but it’s not like he was super good at it either… 😥 At least in their body he feels more confident than ever so if nothing else he can step up and comfort them like they would him. Talk about role reversal… 🤷‍♀️

Satan

I can’t stop grinding my teeth and wOULD YOU PLEASE SHUT UP OVER THERE OR I SWEAR THAT I��LL-!!!

Their emotions are chaotic and they have no idea how to control them. At best, they’ll feel a steady level of irritation and at worst it'll snap into full blown rage. It’s like being a toddler all over again!

They’re going to end up counting to 10, 200 times over… and that might not even help.

On the plus side, though, they’ve never felt smarter! If there’s any time to sit in a wingback chair and ponder the meaning of life, it’s now so take advantage of it!

Bonus:

… Is this what normal is? Is this what CALM is?? A guy slammed into Satan on the street the other day and he didn’t feel the sudden urge to commit homicide… This is great!! Excuse him, MC, as he hijacks your body to go zen out around the House… 😌 Human Satan’s chill meters give Belphie a run for his money, who knew?

Asmo

*they’ve been staring at themselves in the mirror quietly for the last twenty minutes… and they feel the odd urge to moisturize…*

Being Asmo is actually a little freaky for the uninitiated. Suddenly SO MUCH attention is on them! They can’t walk into any room without being noticed, most of the time by total strangers. 🤷‍♀️

They also notice that people are waaaay more friendly to them now, though whether it's they're gorgeous or the accidentally charming them is anyone's guess…

It seems a lot of Asmo's beauty routine has also been absorbed into his very being because they may start autopiloting toward his bathroom if they don't catch themselves first...

Bonus:

Their body has never looked better than the day Asmo got into it. However they take that information is on them.

Beel

*too busy chewing silverware to say anything*

If Levi is emotional hell then Beel is physical. Being constantly on the brink of starvation is a real chore… 😩

Though at least they get to walk around in what amounts to a tank. They can look Lucifer in the eye and even feel like they can literally uproot trees! (which they may actually do if they got some fruit out of it...)

They also learn pretty quick that Beel can digest right about anything so the brothers try really hard to keep them fed. Otherwise, there'll be bitemarks in the drywall… (they don't even have Beel's marginal self-control so they're screwed! 😓)

Bonus:

Poor baby is doing whatever he can to keep then fed because he gets it. He doesn't envy being in his shoes, though he does feel a little guilty for enjoying being full for change… 😔

Belphie

So tired… Body heavy… Whhhy….

Belphie's body apparently runs with exactly ¼ the energy needed to get through a 12 hour day by default.

It WILL make them go to sleep. Even if they think they're fine one minute, they might blink and be passed out for an hour.

It's also somehow immune to all forms of caffeine and probably even cocaine. 🤷‍♀️ Someone else is going to have to fix this, because the MC can't be bothered… Please just let them sleep…

Bonus:

Belphie's boooored... Days feel twice as long now and he can't get this human body to take naps right! Lucifer is going to have to fix things soon because an idle Belphie is far worse than a crafty Satan... 😣

Check out my Masterlist for more!

[solace-sun]

Not The Typical Way You Meet a Soulmate Chapter Two (Solangelo)

Over the years, Nico had become best friends with Gatorade, Pedialyte, and Ibuprofen, especially after nights like last. Nico used these like shields against his hangovers, but every so often he'd find himself in a drought of Gatorade, or maybe he would get too drunk to remember to hydrate himself. Either way, he always had to face the headache of a hangover once in a while; it was the price he had to pay for his fun.

He regained consciousness on his twin size mattress, with a dim and blurry recollection of the night before. Highlighted in his memory, however, remained Will's impression, his blonde locks, and careful blue eyes. The image made Nico's stomach do flips, but then again, that could just be his hangover.

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he became acutely aware of the piercing pain through his skull, the shakes that came in waves from his core, and the faint sense of nausea rising from his throat. He still wore last night's clothes, which now hung awkwardly off his frame; too tight in all the wrong areas and too loose in others.

He felt like shit.

The more awake he was, the more conscious he grew, the grosser he felt. Wrapping an arm around himself, he pretended to be anywhere but the present, wishing he was somewhere other than his besides his shoddy apartment, but the hammering pain in his head made it hard to focus. He ended up closing his eyes and wishing, praying, he could go back to sleep.

Maybe Nico enjoyed the drunken buzz he'd get at parties, but he never came to welcome the pounding hangover that followed. He never learned to embrace the feeling of a twisted gut or headaches like sledgehammers in his skull.

Unfortunately for Nico, last night's wrath didn't stop with a hangover, he wasn't that lucky. Last night's vengeance was about to enter for round two through the door of Nico's room, in the form of a very unhappy Hazel Levesque.

The door flew open, slamming against the wall behind it.

"Nico!" She shouted, "What the fuck man?"

Well, shit. She's mad about something.

Nico rubbed a sleepy eye awake, "Hazel... Please be quiet. My head hurts," He groaned.

"It's because you're hungover, isn't it?" She accused, "Whatever, that doesn't even matter right now. You got in a fight with someone at the party last night?"

"Who told you?" Nico asked, coercing himself to raise up.

"My friend who hosted the damn party, dipshit!"

"Hazel, I didn't even touch the dude. I would hardly call it a fight. Could you please leave me alone?"

"My friend has a hole in his drywall now! You can't keep starting shit at parties or pissing off people, or getting so drunk you can't remember what happened."

"I remember last night. I didn't blackout," Nico reasoned.

"That's a first. How long has it been since that last happened?" Hazel chided, pinching the bridge of her nose "Actually, no. Don't answer that. I'm gonna be late for class. I'll talk to you when I get home."

She spun out of the room and gathered her things. Before leaving, she called to him from the front door.

"I'm still mad at you still, but I love you!" Her tone was detesting, but Nico could appreciate the sentiment. He laid back, boring holes into the ceiling until his interest became fatigued.

After the ceiling had lost its appeal, he decided that maybe it was time to face the day. He rolled over to check his phone, stretching to reach it where it lay charging.

A text from Will was left in his notifications.

Will: Glad you made it home okay :)

Nico couldn't help the smile that crept onto his face. He began to type out a response.

Nico: hey i just wanted to say thanks for walking me home last night

Nico: oh and also for not letting my shit get kicked in by a lacrosse player who was a foot taller than me

Will: Lol it was no problem, just returning the favor

Will: How's ur day been so far?

Nico: i mean i just woke up hungover, so not all that great :/

Will: I'm sorry to hear that dude! You know, they say a good breakfast is the best hangover cure

Nico: well thats unfortunate, all i have at my house for breakfast is pop tarts

Will: Are you serious?

Will: Let me take you to breakfast, I'll buy

Will: Call it the final pay back for everything that you did for me yesterday

Nico: i thought walking me home yesterday was payback? not saying im gonna refuse a free breakfast tho

Will: Walking you home was for the party, breakfast can be for the groceries

Nico: will you don't have to do that

Will: I know! I just wanted to show my appreciation :)

Will: There's a cafe I was thinking of. It's usually pretty quiet, and won't be too noisy. I can send you the address and meet you there in 35 minutes?

Nico: alright, see you there

Nico peeled himself from the hold of his twin-sized mattress. He shuffled to a pile of clothes that resided on the floor, scouring for something that wasn't yesterday's clothes to wear. He slipped on a sweatshirt and pulled the hood on; it was a hood-up kind of day. Before he left he swiped a pair of sunglasses laying on his nightstand, his last hope to buffer his headache from the sober world.

He came to find that it didn't help much.

His groggy walk brought him to the cafe doors earlier than he had anticipated, leaving him to anticipate Will's arrival. He stood idly at the cafe entrance with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. His head still pounded, and the talking of strangers passing by became sirens in his head. He had to remind himself this was all worth it for free breakfast.

Just before his waiting turned to worry, Will approached from down the street. The grasp around Nico's anxious heart subsided as he saw the familiar face.

"How are things going man!" He asked as he pulled the cafe door open with his good arm.

Nico couldn't ignore the headache piercing his skull, "Things could be better," he shrugged.

"Hey, once we get a little bit of breakfast, I'm sure things will get much better."

The inside of the cafe treated Nico's hangover much better than the outside had. The cool air and quiet atmosphere were exactly what he needed that morning. He silently thanked Will for being kind of a genius.

As soon as the two settled into their seats, Nico let his head lay on the table. Will gave him a sympathetic smile.

"That bad, huh?" He asked. Nico only nodded in response.

"Let me order for you. I know exactly what will help you out, dude."

"I will do anything, as long as it gets rid of this headache," Nico groaned as he propped himself up, resting his head on his hands, "Thanks for offering me breakfast."

"Thanks for carrying my groceries for me," Will grinned.

Before long, a waitress sauntered over, placing a pitcher of ice water and two cheap plastic cups in front of the two. She asked for their orders, of which Will ordered for the two of them.

Nico tuned their conversation out, getting lost in the scene outside their window. He watched the cars pass by, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses.

Will pushed a cup of water towards him to reel him back into the present.

"You need to rehydrate," he prompted. Nico did as he was told, and took small sips from the cup.

"How's your day been so far?" Nico asked.

"Pretty good. Though, I feel bad saying that to your face," Will joked. Nico shot him a look Will could see even through the dark glasses.

Will chuckled, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He put his hands up in defeat.

"How was the rest of the party?" Nico asked.

"Honestly? I didn't stay much longer after you went home. I checked in with my friends to make sure they were fine then called it a night. Guess it was just kinda boring without you there, starting fights and all."

Nico covered his face with his hands, "God, don't remind me about that," he grumbled.

"What? I thought it was sweet," Will responded.

"Yeah, I don't know," Nico started, "Drunk me thought I was doing something great, but my sister totally chewed me out for it this morning."

"Why?"

"I guess she's friends with the guy who hosted the party... And he's not too thrilled to have a hole in his wall, which could technically be my fault? I don't know," He explained.

"Oh, does your sister go to school?" Will asked.

"Yeah, she's a freshman, studies early education."

"Oh, that's cool," Will engaged. Then his eyebrows furrowed, and his expression became confused, "Can I ask a question?"

"That depends. What's the question?" Nico's tone was apprehensive.

"How come you don't go to school?"

Before Nico had the chance to respond, the waitress had returned and plates were being unloaded on the table in front of him. He looked down at the mystery meal Will had ordered for him.

"What the fuck is this?" Nico exclaimed, "Is this spinach in my breakfast?"

"Oh my god," Will rolled his eyes, "You know, everything on that plate is what they recommend you eat to get rid of a hangover."

"Okay, you know what? Fine. I'll eat your weird healthy breakfast, only because it's gonna make me not feel like my brain is trying to rot inside my skull."

He grabbed at a fork and stabbed his omelette with it, and took a bite.

"Oh shit," He spoke behind a mouthful of food.

"What?" Will gave a concerned look, glancing up from his own breakfast.

"This is actually really good," Nico admitted why a shy smile.

"See? It's not that bad. And it's good for you."

"Will," Nico began, "I want you to look at me in the eyes, and recall everything you know about me, which, granted, isn't a lot," He paused to take another bite of food, "And ask yourself if I really seem like the type of person who cares about which foods are good for me or not."

Will raised his eyebrows. For a second, Nico thought he had offended him, but Will erupted into that contagious laughter of his. Nico joined in, giving in to the pull of the laughter.

Will shook his head, his chuckles slowing to a stop, "Man, I guess you're right."

Will looked at Nico and smiled. Nico glanced back, if only for a second, and reciprocated the grin.

Then he felt the phone in his pocket buzzing. He reached down into his pocket and gave a quick 'sorry give me a second' to Will before answering.

"Hello?"

"Nico! Are you gonna show up for your shift? I've told you before man, you gotta give me notice if you're gonna be late."

Shit.

It was his manager.

"I wasn't on the schedule for today, I thought," Nico defended. Will looked up from his plate and gave a concerned look.

"Should have double-checked, I needed you here thirty minutes ago."

Shiiiiiit.

"Okay. I'll be there as soon as possible,"

"How long is that going to be?" His manager's voice rang through the phone.

"I don't know... I'm not at home right now, and I'm walking so... It could be twenty-five minutes. I'm so sorry, I didn't know I had a shift today."

"Do whatever you can to get here, I need your ass down here now. We're having a rush and we're understaffed."

"Right, okay. See you in a few," Nico responded, and ended the call.

"Do you gotta go?" Will asked, disappointment hidden in his tone.

Nico pursed his lips, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea I was on the schedule, but I gotta go now or I am so fucking fired."

"Do you need a ride?"

"Will, no, I can't ask you to do that. You're already paying for my meal," Nico explained.

"Nico, it's totally fine! I don't mind at all," Will insured, "I picked up my car from the shop yesterday, so we're good to go!"

Nico's brows furrowed while he contemplated the offer. After a moment, he agreed.

"I'm only accepting because I needed to be there, like, 30 minutes ago," Nico said, as he began to pack his things and leave. Will left a pile of cash that would cover the bill plus tip, and the two hurried out of the restaurant, and towards Will's beat up SUV.

When Nico walked through the back door of his restaurant job, he was met with several pissed coworkers and his manager.

"He finally shows up!" his coworker, Jason, exclaimed.

"About fuckin' time!" another employee called out. Nico ignored his coworkers teasing, and snatched his uniform from his locker, and threw it on, trying to smooth the wrinkles out while tugging on the sleeve. He clocked in, and rushed to the front of the house, to take his position.

As he sped to his spot, he bumped into his manager, whose only words were a muttered 'glad you could make it.' Nico gave a shy smile and grabbed a handful of menus before settling at his stand.

Working at a five-star restaurant was kind of like maintaining a well oiled machine -- if well oiled machines could be a dysfunctional team that somehow maintained the image of perfection on the surface. It was a stressful job, but it paid decently, all things considered, and sometimes Nico even liked his coworkers. In the very least, they were usually tolerable.

But today, Nico was up against the edge, still half hungover, and in the middle of a rush, he wished he could still be enjoying Will's company. Something about Will made his heart feel still.

Despite his longing to be elsewhere, Nico was, unfortunately, stuck at his job, taking the orders of people who didn't know mediocre, overpriced food if it hit them in the face. His least favorite part of the job was the customers, but then again, Nico was fairly sure if you asked any food service worker, they would say the same thing.

This rang especially true today. He was getting a headache  (And no, it wasn't just the remnant of his hangover) listening to an older woman complain about her food. He had tried to tune her out maybe five minutes into the lecture about why her food sucked, and why she deserved a refund with a complimentary meal, but he could still hear the echo of her nasally voice through his dissociative state. After the lady finished her spiel, Nico resumed his customer service voice and assured her she would be satisfied with a new meal, per company policy, and left the table.

He walked into the kitchen, ready to announce that he was going on break when his coworker slammed into him. Now, if his coworker had been empty handed, maybe everything would have been fine. But she wasn't, instead, she had been carrying out a meal, which was now plastered all over Nico's white, formal uniform.

Are you fucking kidding me?

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" She exclaimed. Nico could feel the frustration and annoyance bubbling in his chest, rising up his throat. He shut his eyes, and inhaled, reopening his eyes as he exhaled.

"I am going on break," He spoke in monotone, attempting to disguise any anger in his voice. He dragged himself out back, and slumped onto a crate to sit on. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Today's shift fucking sucked.

He pulled out his phone. In his notifications was a text from Will. The anger and frustration that held Nico's heart began to loosen its grasp.

Will: How's work? Hope you haven't been fired yet lol

Nico: not fired yet, just got angry looks from my coworkers for being 40 minutes late during a rush

Nico: maybe it's deserved though, it'd be pretty mad if i were them

Will: I mean, in your defense you didn't know about your shift, and you seemed like you genuinely felt bad so I wouldn't beat yourself up too badly :)

Nico: thanks, haha

Will: Quick question, do you have a ride home?

Nico: no i usually just walk home

Will: Do you want a ride? I'd feel bad if I just dropped you off with no way to get back home

Nico: you can't keep doing favors for me like this

Nico: I get off late anyway, you probably wouldn't want to drive around by the time I get off

Will: What time is your shift over?

Nico: uh

Nico: seven

Will: That's not even late

Nico: i don't need a ride, i'll be fine, i promise

Nico: thanks for the offer tho

Will: I will take it as a personal offense if you don't accept this offer, Nico

Nico: dont tell me that

Nico: like seriously though, i can't let you do this

Will: I feel bad just dropping you off like that!

Nico: i walk home all the time, its okay! i promise

Will: How often do you walk home hungover?

Nico: i mean, im not even hungover anymore so

Nico: but now that you've offered, it would be nice not to walk home for once

Nico: im only agreeing because you're practically begging me at this point

Will: I'll be waiting out back at 6:50 ;)

Nico shook his head and smiled, replacing the phone in his pocket.

As he smiled to himself, the back door swung open. Jason peered his head from around the door. He gave Nico a funny look.

"I don't think I've seen you smile before," He paused to think, "Ever."

"Oh, come on," Nico protested, "That's not fair."

"What's got you so happy? Surely not work, not after the shift you're having," Jason commented.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Nico taunted Jason.

"Don't be like that," Jason chastised, "Anyhow, boss wanted me to tell you that he wants you back inside, it's starting to get busy again."

"Tell him I'll be back out there in five minutes. Also, do you have a spare shirt I can borrow?" Nico asked, gesturing down to the mess that was now staining his shirt.

"I was just about to offer you my spare shirt. It's in my locker, let me go get it," Jason replied, holding the door open for Nico. He followed Jason inside as the heavy door slammed behind the two.

The rest of Nico's shift didn't improve by much, but at least he had something to look forward to. By the end of his shift, he never felt so welcomed by his hoodie and casual clothes, that hung loosely off his frame rather than the suffocating hug his work uniform gave him.

Clocking out was the best part of his day.

He walked out back, shoving the door out of the way and giving a curt goodbye to his coworkers. Will's car idled in the back alley behind the restaurant, awaiting his arrival. Will waved when he saw Nico emerge from the building.

"Hey, Nico!" Will exclaimed as Nico pulled the car door open.

"Hey Will," Nico started, "Thanks again for picking me up. I know I resisted at first, but like, I'm actually so glad I agreed. Would have been pissed if I were walking home right now."

"Man I don't know how you do it, walking every day" Will agreed.

"I mean you get used to it, but after some shifts I definitely wish I knew how to drive."

"So what, you never learned?"

"I mean, I never really felt the need to? Like some days I'm like 'yeah a car would be nice,' but most days I'm perfectly fine without."

"Have you ever thought about learning?" Will asked, glancing at Nico from the side of his eye as he drove.

"I don't know... I've always told myself I'd learn at some point, but I keep putting it off. Why?"

"I could teach you now, if you'd like," Will gave Nico a smile that meant trouble.

"What? No, Will, I'll total your car."

"It'll be fun! There's an empty parking lot we'll pass on the way back to your place, we can stop there and I can just show you the basics."

"What if I hit something?"

"Nico, dude, this car is worth at very most a total of 500 dollars. I wouldn't be ruined if this thing suffered a few bumps. It's the perfect car to learn in, you can't do any more damage to it than it has already suffered."

"I mean, I guess I don't have anything else going on tonight..." Nico gave a hesitant response.

"It'll be fun, I promise!" Will said as he flicked his turning signal and pulled into the empty lot. He put the car in park and opened the door.

"Okay, switch places with me," He prompted.

"Uh, okay," Nico gave some thought to hesitation, before stepping out of the passenger seat and into the driver's.

"Okay, look at the floorboard. Do you know which pedal is the brake and which one is for gas?" Will asked.

"Uh, the big one's the brake, right? And the small one is the gas?" Nico gave an answer even he doubted to be correct.

"Yeah! Okay, now put your foot on the brake," He instructed. Nico did as he told, gripping the steering wheel so tightly he thought he might break it.

"Great, now grab the gearshift, and put it into drive," Will explained, "You know how to do that?"

"Uh," Nico choked on his own words, "No?"

"That's okay!" Will assured. He reached over to gently hold Nico's hand, as he placed it on the gearshift. With his hand over Nico's, he pulled the gearshift into place.

"Now you're in gear!" He exclaimed with a bright grin. Nico's hand started to shake underneath Will's.

"What you wanna do now is let your foot off the brake, slowly though," As Will began, Nico lifted his foot off, and the car began to roll.

"Oh fuck the car is moving now," Nico cursed under his breath.

"You're doing good! The car is gonna move slowly as long as you don't hit the brakes. Now, I want you to take the same foot you just used the brakes with, and very slowly, press on the gas."

Nico placed a foot on the gas, and the car jerked forward.

"Oh god, I'm sorry," Nico groaned.

"Don't be! You're doing good!" Will encouraged, "Try again."

Nico lowered his foot back onto the pedal, and the car lurched once more. Surprised by the movement, he took his foot off the gas, giving Will a concerned look.

"It can be tricky to get the hang of, but you're doing really good so far!" He encouraged.

Nico's foot hovered over the pedal. Carefully, he began to press weigh to the pedal. The car began to move faster.

"Hey, there you go!" Will exclaimed, "You got it! Now, see if you can speed up a bit."

Nico pressed on the pedal, and the car roared, picking up speed. As the car gained speed Nico lost confidence, his chest began to feel tight. He could feel his hands tremor as he gripped the wheel, and he began to feel his throat close up. He slammed a foot into the brakes. The car screeched to a stop, causing both himself and Will to lurch forward in their seats. Nico's knuckles had turned white around the steering wheel.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Nico repeated, "I think... I think I'm done. Let's switch back."

"You were doing so well though!" Will reassured.

"No, I think I'm done," Nico confirmed, placing the car back into park.

"Oh, okay," Will's smile fell.

His shaky hands and nerves calmed once Nico returned to the passenger seat. He let out the breath he had been holding and rubbed his arms.

"Hey, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to overwhelm you," Will said as he slid back into the driver's seat.

"Will, it's not your fault. I've... I've never been good at managing my nerves while driving. My dad gave up trying to teach me years ago because I'd just freak out whenever I was behind the wheel. I guess I thought this time would be different? I don't know..."

Nico felt a hand on his shoulder. Will ran a thumb over the skin on his shoulder.

"It's okay," Will ensured, giving a small smile to Nico, "I just hope I didn't make you feel pressured to do something you didn't want to."

"No! Of course not, I just thought I could actually do it this time. I mean there's a reason why I don't drive."

"You wanna talk about it?" Will asked.

"There's not much to talk about. It's just, like, my nerves... I just get so anxious behind the wheel. It's always been like that," Nico explained, fidgeting with his hands, "Like, I just personally think I shouldn't drive. There are some people out there who just don't drive, and maybe I should just commit to being one of those people."

"It takes practice," Will comforted, "You'll get it if you give it a chance."

"I don't know Will," Nico shook his head, "I can't drive in an empty parking lot, and I can't even imagine how I'd manage on a road with other cars. I don't know how you do it, especially with a broken arm, oh my god."

"I'm telling you, it's just practice. I mean, I guess the arm thing is a little hard to get around, but, I'm doing fine now, I think," Will spoke.

"Does it still hurt? Your arm?" Nico asked.

Will examined his arm, observing the curve of the cast, "No, not unless I move it the wrong way."

"I feel bad, you like, broke your arm," Nico began, "You said you've been playing lacrosse for seven years? And now, all of a sudden you just stopped? Don't you miss it?"

"I mean, yeah, I put so much of my time into it and spent so many years practicing. It was my sport and I loved it. And then, after I left the hospital, after talking to my coaches and telling them I was done... I realized, y'know, that I had put on my jersey, and played for the last time, without even knowing it, and that... That kinda sucked."

Nico nodded, watching Will as he spoke, "This whole thing sounds like it's been pretty hard on you."

Will turned to Nico, "This... may sound so stupid," Will laughed, "But you are so easy to talk to. Like being around you is just easy."

Nico smiled and nodded, "No, I get what you're saying."

He sighed and looked down at the floorboard.

"Guess I should be getting you home though, right?" Will asked as he started the engine. He pulled out of the lot and accelerated onto the road towards Nico's house. Will studied the road as Nico watched streetlights speeding by, their lights beginning to illuminate as the sun began to fall. A hazy shade of grey began to blanket the sky, and stars began to peek out from behind the veil. Will turned his head to steal a glance at Nico. For maybe a second, he let himself admire Nico's profile and the curve of his nose, the bend of his jawline, before pulling his gaze back towards the road.

He pulled into the apartment lot he had left Nico in the night before. As he pulled in, Nico looked like he was about to say something, maybe in protest, but ultimately decided against it.

Nico gave Will a soft smile and thankful eyes, "Thanks for the ride, Will."

"It's no problem, anytime," Will assured. He wanted to say more, but the back of his mind told him to remain silent, despite the pull in his chest. He didn't want this to be the last time he'd see Nico. He also didn't want to return to his empty apartment. He wasn't ready to be his only company again.

"Hey," Nico said, from outside the car, holding the door open and leaning in, "Text me later. Let me know what your schedule looks like so we hang out again. You're a fun guy to be with."

The tug at Will's chest rested, "Oh! Yeah, for sure!"

Nico closed the door, and left with a wave, as Will's car began to roll out of the lot.

Will exhaled a shaky breath, the feeling of loneliness beginning to flood his lungs. It was suffocating.  He drove home, trying not to lose himself to the feeling

As he walked into his empty home, he felt a buzz from his pocket. He opened his phone and saw Nico had sent a text.

just caught wind of a party happening tomorrow, any chance you're able to go? ;)

Will smiled to himself and felt some of the loneliness began to fade.

(Big thanks to my beta readers @embooks and @all-this-panic-still-no-disco !!)

[erintoknow]

it feels like a lie

Spiraling - A Fallen Hero: Rebirth Fan-fiction

Three lives to juggle means three times as many more lies and conflicting agendas. How is anyone supposed to balance all of this? [Please Just Go]

[Read on AO3]

Alarms blare inside your helmet. Shit. They realized you're here.

Rosie is on the other side of the city; you had her create a distraction coating Memorial Park in smoke to try and lure The Rangers away. After the bridge fiasco last week you could use a break, sick as you are of fighting Argent.

That doesn’t do anything for the local rent-a-cops.

With a practiced haste you fold up the sheaf of papers and tuck them into a black storage bag attached to your suit belt. You’ll have to go over the rest in detail when you’re back at your best.

For now, you better cover your tracks.

The Nanovores make quick work of the rest of the filing cabinet before you turn yourself to the rest of the record room. Pulling out paper sat random, ripping shelves off their hinges and toppling over entire metal units. Damage done, you put a hand to one wall and weaken the joists.

Squaring your shoulder you back up, bracing yourself. When you charge forward, the drywall collapses into splinters and dust. Cries of alarm echo out in the hallway and someone fires a gun.

Ugh.

Idiots.

You turn towards the source and the man in the dark blue uniform takes a step back. You grab his mind, pulling him into a daymare just long enough to close the distance and knee him in the gut. Catch the gun before it hits the ground and it dissolves into dust in your left hand. “Someone could get hurt.”

You let the man drop and he just lays there, staring at you.

As tempting as it is to keep basking in the adrenaline rush, you should get out of here before Argent shows up.

Besides, Ariadne and Jane both have appointments of their own to attend to today.

To the same woman.

–––

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you adjust your sunglasses, press them up your nose and flush against your face. You’re just… going in to check on Ortega. That’s all. Nothing weird about that.

Just your friend.

Ortega.

Who is your friend.

That you’re checking on.

You step up to the door, hesitate – hand on the handle shaking. You let it go. Shit. Shit. Fucking – You turn back to the door and throw it open, storming in. The secretary at the desk looks up at you in alarm, one arm poised under her desk. “Hello! Can I… help you?”

“Ortega.” You state. Wait. Shit. Context. She needs context. “I’m here to see Ortega.”

The woman frowns at that, eyeing you up and down. “Can I ask who’s calling for her?”

You echo her frown back, cross your arms under your shawl. “I… guess?”

The two of you stand there in silence.

Oh.

Wait, shit – “Ariadne.” You offer. “Ariadne Becker.”

Her face perks up, suspicion easing slightly. “Oh! Your Ortega’s friend. I remember you now.”

You frown at that. She does? You’ve only been here, what? Twice? “I’m… sorry?”

She laughs, which only makes you frown more. “Ortega mentioned you were coming by today.” She did? “You can take a seat, I’ll let her know you're here.”

It’s not a long wait. Have to bite your lip to keep from smiling at Ortega walking out of the elevator. Raise a hand to catch her eyes. “Hey.”

She takes sight of you and smiles. “Hey yourself.” God. Just seeing her here is a relief. This building isn’t anything like the HQ your used to. Too clean and too sterile. Professional. Like the Farm.

“I – I made it. Hope you're happy.”

“You bet.” She grins, smug. No one would ever accuse Julia Ortega of being a graceful winner. “Com’on,” she beckons you after her. “Let’s head to my, uh...” She flashes a grin back at you, “special office.”

You tilt your head as you follow her back into the elevator. Tuck your sunglasses into your purse. Are you supposed to laugh at that or…? “Should I be worried?”

“Nah.” She punches a number into the keypad. “I’m too tired to get into trouble today.” She raises her other hand, shakes the coffee thermos she’s holding for emphasis.

Small talk with Ortega is an old routine. As comfortable, as it is dangerous: to forget for a moment this woman is actively working towards your destruction. That her smile is directed at an empty facade.

Well.

At least Jane gets to kiss her.

Oh –

Why did you have to think that just now?

You follow after her out of the elevator, a short walk past offices and meeting rooms and into what looks like an unfinished closet, ceiling joists exposed naked to the air. An obviously outdated computer, weighs down the desk at one end of the room while a white board with empty red circles spans another wall. But what really gets your attention is the set of out of place and utterly garish cheetah-print chairs. “What the…?”

“Donations.” Ortega shrugs, as if that explains anything. She pulls a seat over for you. Comfy enough, you guess.  “Sorry Ari, I can’t chat too long,” Ortega slides into the seat across from you, a coffee in one hand. “I’ve got to meet someone for work later.”

You frown at that. “Oh. Um… sorry?” Isn’t she meeting Jane? Going somewhere else first?

Ortega blinks, taken aback. “It’s… not your fault?”

“That’s my line.” You force a laugh, trying not to look as awkward as you feel. One hand pokes out from under your shawl to fiddle with your sunglasses. “I just… thanks for meeting me on short notice like this. I… know this, um, new villain has you running ragged.”

“It’s fine.” Ortega waves your concern off. “You know… you’re always welcome to stop by when I’m at HQ.” She makes a face, sitting back in her seat. “Which is… all the time now since, well…”

“Chen still won’t let you back on active duty?” How long has it been now? Two months since she got out of the hospital? Time is starting to blur. Getting harder to track.

“He’s afraid I’m going to do something stupid.”

“Hrm. Y–yeah, that definitely doesn’t sound like you.”

“Shut up!” She laughs, punching you in the shoulder. You make a show of almost falling over, as if you’d been hit far harder.

“You poor thing.” You tsk, a faint smile fighting to form. If Ortega’s staying on a desk, she’s safe. Safe from someone that could hurt her again.

Safe from you.

You glance at the doorway. “You must be bored out of your mind, stuck here.”

Her smile gains an edge, “Don’t worry. I’m keeping plenty busy.”

You frown, searching her eyes. “I know that look Ortega. That’s a – a face that means trouble for somebody.”

Her smile only broadens. “Only the ones that deserve it.”

You eye the whiteboard. All the conspicuously empty circles. “And how’s that going?” That’s the real question, isn’t it? How aggressive can you get with your tactics before the Rangers buckle down?

Assuming they don’t collapse like a house of cards first.

Ortega shrugs, noncommittal. “I’m working on it. I’ve got a…” Her eyes flit away from you for a second before returning with a smile. “A multi-pronged approach, let’s call it. Keeping me busy at least.”

“Just… d–don’t get yourself put in a hospital again. Okay?” You try to catch her eye. You don’t have to fake this. This sincerity. The ache in your chest. “Please?”

She smiles back at you, soft, maybe a touch sad. You can never be sure with these kinds of things. “I’m taking this dead serious Ariadne. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Mm.” You frown. If anything her assurance just makes you more concerned she’s going to do something stupid. “Is that why you’re plotting in Harry Potter’s broom closet?”

Ortega gasps in mock shock, a hand to her chest before collapsing into laughter. “Ariadne! I’ll have you know this is the most secure broom closet in Los Diablos!”

You laugh, “Nothing’s secure in this city.” You should know. It’s been hell isolating your workshop off the network.

Ortega clicks her tongue and taps the side of her nose. “Not so hasty now. Maybe that's the Mayor’s line but you shouldn’t believe everything she says.”

“Ortega!” You laugh, “did you just tell me not to trust the government?”

“Well, when you put it like that it sounds silly.”

“Uh-huh. And since when did you become a technology wizard?”

“That used to be your job.”

You fake a laugh. “Hey, if anything, it’s, uh– well, it’s more my job now than it ever was.”

“Well, I had some help.” She glances away, “Angie has a bit of a way with technology.” There’s a pause followed by a wince, “Don’t tell her I told you that.”

“Why?”

Ortega takes a drink from her coffee, dragging it out. “Because she’ll kill both of us.”

“I’d, um – I’d just as soon steer clear of her.” You answer, waving the concern away. “She s–s–scares the hell out of me. She’s like a… like a… woman-shaped shredding machine.”

“Angie’s really sweet! She just takes some effort to get to know.” A meaningful glance is shot your way. “Not unlike a certain asshole in this room.”

You smile back at her. “You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Ouch! You’re vicious today.”

“S–sorry. I…” You go silent. Not sure how to finish that sentence. What else you can possibly say…? “Hey, um…”

“Yeah?”

“You said I could pick somewhere we volunteer at… that isn’t a hospital, right?” You watch her from the corner of your eye, not quite facing her.

“Uh, hey, yeah! You had somewhere in mind?”

“Y–yeah. There’s uh… there’s this soup kitchen. Up in… Pasadena. They’re… small so we should, uh, call ahead.” Got some memories of that place. Hadn’t expected them to still be around, over seven years later.

“Pasadena?” Ortega purses her lips, thinking. “That’s around one of your old haunts, isn’t it?”

You nod. No point trying to play it off “Y–yeah.”

“Okay. You make the arrangements, let me know a date. I’ll try to make sure my schedule is clear.”

“That’s… thanks.”

Ortega takes a sip of her coffee, “So. Was that all you wanted to ask me about?”

“Not exactly… um.” How do you put this? You shift in your seat. “I’ve been, uh – seeing the news stories lately… What’s this about Argent working with vigilantes? Did you know?”

“I…” Ortega looks away, back down at her coffee. “Yeah. I mean. It’d be kind of hypocritical of me to disapprove, don’t you think?”

“Someone’s going to get hurt.” You sigh, “I mean… I understand what you mean but…”

“We made a good team.”

“...yeah.” You sigh, hold yourself up with a hand to your forehead. “But Lady Argent doesn’t seem to be a – well…”

“A team player. I know.” Ortega glances up at you, a quirk of suspicion on her lips. “But you’re retired now, Ariadne. You told me yourself, this isn’t your world any more.”

You sit back, stare out the window at the passing traffic. “I… I know. But – having…. Having you around again. It’s… hard not to care. I… want to let it go. But when it seems like the Rangers are falling apart and I’m just…”

Responsible.

“Now that sounds like the Ariadne I know.” Ortega’s voice is sad, sad enough to get you to look at her again. “You never could just sit on the sidelines. Even when it was for your own good.”

You make a face. “Well, neither could you.”

“Guilty as Charged.”

“Oh f–fuck you.” You laugh, slapping her hand away. “I can’t believe you never – never made that pun before.”

Ortega’s smug grin doesn’t leave her face. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed your helping Herald now.” She leans over to you, still grinning. “Anything I should know about?”

You lean away from her, eyes wide. “W–what!? I’m just– we’re just–”

Ortega bursts out laughing. “Relax! I’m only teasing you.” She looks up, sees the expression on your face and starts laughing again.

“Asshole.” You hiss at her, face red. “He’s just a dumb kid who doesn’t know the first thing about how to hold himself in a fight.”

“I think that fight with Ghost finally shocked him out of his comfort zone.”

“Or maybe,” You give Ortega a pointed look. “You all just weren’t training him right.”

“You were his childhood hero, you know that right?” Ortega’s smile fades. “He looks up to you.”

God. There’s a terrifying thought.

“Give it time.” You huff. “I’ll fix that too.”

–––

“There she is!” Jane flings her arms into the air, “I missed my practice buddy.”

Ortega laughs, catching Jane in the coffee shop door. “Just your ‘buddy’ huh?”

“Hmph!” Jane pouts, “You know what I mean.”

“Madre de Dios, I’m so glad to finally be out of that hospital.” Ortega smiles with her whole face, pulling Jane in for a hug. For a moment it feels like they might kiss. And then they disentangle.

Jane mirrors the smile back with a touch of puzzlement. “Did they really only just let you out?” Jane and Ortega haven’t had a chance to meet up since Ghost crashed the Gala over a month ago now. Two months? It’s getting hard for you to keep track of time. But you know she’s been out for a while now.

What’s going on?

Ortega’s smile freezes on her face as she rubs the back of her neck. “Well… I’ve been busy too. Work.” She flaps an arm in the general direction of Ranger’s HQ “Sorry. I should have at least called.”

“It’s okay…” Jane’s smile takes a bitter edge. A knot twisting in her gut. “Our date didn’t exactly… go well, did it?” Maybe that’s it. She’s just trying to spare Jane’s feelings.

“Hell, Jane, I am so sorry. And then you got… hurt because of me and…” Oh. That’s why she’s been avoiding Jane. Guilt. That makes sense. You understand guilt.

“Stop it.” Jane presses a finger to Ortega’s lips. “It’s not your fault. It’s…”

Ortega takes her hand, gently lowering. “Ghost’s.”

Jane laughs, disdainful. Weaves her fingers between Ortega’s as they move to walk down the street together. “Is that really the name now?”

“Yeah.”

“How dumb. What is this guy, emo?” Jane glances back towards Ortega. Was that a frown on her face? It’s gone. She’s smiling again. Jane smiles back.

“It is pretty dumb isn’t it?” Ortega laughs along. “I’ve heard worse ones before though.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Emperor President is still my top pick.”

Jane laughs, “That’s not dumb, that’s fucking amazing.”

“Maybe it wraps back around to that.”

“Well, maybe it does.” Still laughing, Jane twists around so she’s standing in front of Ortega. Bringing the both of them to a stop. “So. I think you owe me something.” There’s a glint in her eye. This is – this is forward. Too forward? No, it’s Ortega. Relax.

Ortega’s face is a careful blank. “Do I now?”

“Another date? I…” Jane breaks eye contact, biting her lip. “I mean. If you want to. Of course.”

Ortega squeezes her hand. “Of course.” Her smile turns sheepish as she looks away too. “Honestly, I… was worried I had, well, scared you off after everything.” It’s like a weight is lifted from Jane’s shoulders. The sun is brighter, the sky bluer.

“Hey!” Jane pats her on the face, redirects her to meet Jane’s eyes again. “It’s going to take a lot more than bombs and a mentally disturbed wacko to scare me away.” She tilts her head, laughing with her eyes. “that’s practically my day job already with all the debt BS.”

“Alright…” Ortega’s smile broadens, more confident. “Alright, great!”

Jane steps forward in Ortega’s space, “And I’ve got just the idea of where we can go…”

[swaps55]

@joufancyhuh​ tagged me to share my 5 most bizarre/interesting animal encounters. 

Given I’ve spent so many years around horses, I could write books just about those experiences. But I curated a few, even some that don’t involve horses! This was fun and I wrote way too much. 

Tagging @citadelsushi​, @shadesofmauve​, @dearophelia​ and boy I wish @w0rdinista​ was still around because I know she’s got good ones. Have good stories to share? Please join in and tag me! 

1. The Klutzy Friesian

When I was in college, I had the coolest summer job. I worked in the Breeds Barn at the Kentucky Horse Park, dressing up in costumes to ride and show off how diverse and amazing horses can be (historical accuracy very doubtful, but we made it look REALLY cool). This included a desert princess costume for the Arabian. A Spanish Conquistador for the Andalusian. I wore Peruvian attire and held a glass of water while scooting around on a Peruvian Paso. I don’t know what the costume for the Missouri Fox trotter really was, but it looked cool and that horse was a blast. But the most awesome thing I got to do was dress up as Joan of Arc and ride a Friesian. His name was Tom. In addition to being drop dead gorgeous, Tom was also a Good Boy. Eager to please, perfect manners and an all-around doll.

Each of the horses used in the “Parade of Breeds” show we put on twice a day has a script. You come in as the announcer plays your music and starts your narration, and you perform for the crowd. Now, Tom’s script was a little different from the others, in that instead of trotting or puttering into the ring, you dashed up the chute at a dead gallop and charged into the ring. While wearing a cape and a chain mail hat. The goal was to be epic. Which isn’t hard with Tom. I mean, look at him.

Except, Tom was a laid back dude who had done the same routine for years, and wasn’t always super into charging into the ring. He needed some extra time to warm up and get PSYCHED for his big entrance, which usually involved galumphing around over a grassy area outside the chute, behind the bleachers where the audience sat. 

Well, one day in particular, the skies were clearing up after a good rain. Ground was wet but serviceable, show would go on! I was tasked to be Joan that day, so I donned my chain mail (not pictured) and flowy cape, saddled up my trusted steed and off we went to warm up. We were the last horse on the show list that day, so we were alone as I was getting him riled up, waiting for the horse ahead of me to finish. 

But it had been raining, right? And the grass is wet. Poor ol’ Tom hit a wet patch, lost his footing and went nose-first to the ground. 

Tom is a big dude. So when he hit the deck, that meant about 1300lbs of horse tumbling in a glorious black somersault, with a flash of red in there somewhere that was me in my cape and chain mail. 

Keep in mind there is no one back there to notice. Except the people in the bleachers watching the show. Who stop watching the show and start taking pictures of us in a heap. 

Tom gets to his feet, stands with his head hanging like, “Sorry boss. I done goofed.” 

I frantically grab him, run hands over his knees and legs to make sure he hasn’t hurt himself, straighten up my chain mail, then swing up – somehow, even then I didn’t do well climbing up on a horse from the ground unassisted – and ask him to move to see if he’s lame. With tourists still taking pictures. 

My script is starting, by the way, and they’re expecting me in the ring RIGHT NOW. At a dead run. 

We take a few steps. Nothing ouchy. Ok. Let’s GO. Tom and I hit a dead run and fly into the ring, no one the wiser except for the people who had their cameras ready. Nothing hurt but our egos. 

Tom was the best.

2. Revenge of the Breeds

The same summer I had my adventure with Tom, we also got a lot of rain. A lot of rain in that part of the world meant lots of white clover grew in the fields. All of the Breeds Barn residents got turned out around 4 in the afternoon and didn’t come back in until 7am, so they grazed on that stuff all night. What’s the big deal with white clover? Well, it makes horses very…slobbery. Ok, no big deal though, right? So you had a bunch of slobber faces to saddle up half the summer. Gross, but not that interesting.

Well, would be, except that these horses knew their routine really well, and all of them shared a mutual “doneness” when it came to constantly being gawked at, poked at, petted, etc. But because they were all Good Ponies (except the Gypsy Vanner, who was a dick, and the Arabian, who was shit-for-brains), they had to find petty ways to occasionally vent their frustrations.

Enter the white clover.

Every show we did that summer while the clover was in season, each horse we took into the ring would very patiently collect an entire jaw full of slobber. We’re talking green, slimy, gross buckets of slobber here. After each show, we would walk our charges over to the rail so visitors could come up and pet them, ask questions, and otherwise just get close to a horse. It was the best part of the show for me, because many of these people had never touched a horse before, and I got to share with them something I dearly loved.

Each one of these fuckers would choose that magical moment to open their mouths and let it rain green goo.

I did SO much explaining that summer about how it was because of the clover. They don’t mean it. They really like you! They’re showing you they like you. 

It was on purpose. Each and every time. 

I loved those horses so much. Even the shit-for-brains Arabian, which is a whole other story. I miss that job.

3. The Free Bird.

My old house in Kentucky had a fireplace that I never used, because it involved a chimney stove insert that was not up to code and too heavy to bother moving. At some point the chimney flue must have come loose or whatever it is chimney flues do, because birds would occasionally find their way into my chimney, and if they were REALLY determined, into my house. On the most memorable occasion, my 2 worthless cats were the only ones home. My dog was also home, however she was young and crated at the time and does not factor into this story (though she definitely does in the OTHER memorable bird occasion.) 

This house also had a spiral staircase, which is super cool to look at, but really not very functional save for one thing: it was the perfect place to feed my cats and ensure the dog didn’t get into their food. Each cat had her own step. Every day when I got home from work, the two cats would already be sitting on their step, in front of their bowls, demanding dinner. 

On the day of the bird incident, I come home as usual. Find everyone in their usual spots. Except this time there is an interloper. 

The goddamned bird that snuck into my house through the chimney is standing on the step ABOVE Cat #2. Both cats look at me. Yowl. Look at their bowls. The bird – who is essentially offering itself up as dinner mere inches away from Cat #2’s head – continues to do bird things and poop on my spiral staircase. The worthless cats did not so much as acknowledge the bird exists.   

I had to corral and chase the damn bird out of the house myself, which involved a feather duster and accidentally getting it stuck in a closet, without any help from nature’s bird killers still mad that they haven’t gotten dinner yet. 

One of these cats is still around and being a worthless grouchy cuddle slut to this VERY DAY. 

4. The Shithead Squirrel.

Same house. Same cats. Only add another cat. And the dog now has free house privileges during the day.

I had a cedar house. I loved that house. You know what else loves cedar houses? Squirrels. This one fucking squirrel in particular. Do not talk to me about squirrels. I hate squirrels. I loathe squirrels. All because of this motherfucker.

I had a basement garage, which means one side of the one story house was as tall as a 2 story. Naturally, this was the side of the house this asshole squirrel decided looked homey. I had noticed small holes chewed into the siding before, but it was in an unreachable spot that was kinda dangerous even with a ladder, and I didn’t have the money to hire someone to really fix it.

Until THIS ASSHOLE. This squirrel chewed its way into the siding of my house. Yanked out the insulation and tossed it on the ground to make it nice and homey. Peering around the corner from my deck I could WATCH him sunning his stupid face though the hole, enjoying the world from MY HOUSE without paying any fucking rent.

Well, the wall was also the wall of my living room. All the animals in the house could hear the squirrel in the wall. Imagine three cats and a dog all huddled next to the TV, staring at the wall.

That little fucker better not chew through the drywall, I thought.

The little fucker chewed through the drywall.

I came home from work to find all four animals huddled around an ACTUAL HOLE IN THE WALL, where this squirrel undoubtedly stuck his head through, saw four sets of teeth and made the first and only good choice in his miserable life. I had chicken wire and a block of wood screwed to the inside of my wall until I could get a contractor out to replace a bunch of the siding and insulation. It was the biggest check I’d ever written in my life and I hope he was STILL IN THERE when they sealed it up.

5. The Killer Chicken

YEARS ago, when I first got my mare, the barn I kept her at had all kinds of non-horsey animals running around. Goats, peacocks, peahens, dogs, cats…and chickens. There was one chicken in particular was a stealth master and a real hate on for humans. You did not go into the second barn alone. That was his domain. And if you did? Take a fucking broom. Otherwise, as you would walk down the aisle, beyond the echo of your boots you’d hear a skittering. Stop. Turn. Just a chicken. Minding its own damn business. Fine, right?

Turn around, keep walking. More skittering. Until it got close. Then there would be mad skittering, as this killer chicken would close on its prey and send you running for your damned life out of the barn, out into the open, away from its domain and its hate and its wrath.

When two people were present you’d never notice it was there. But when you were alone. You were prey.

[allthe-queens-men]

Day One - Children

John and Roger have been dating for almost a year. They decide to introduce each other to their kids.

………………………………………………………………………………….. 

“Where are we going, Daddy?” Sophie asked, squeezing herself out from between her bickering brothers.

John smiled at her in the rearview mirror. “Well, the plan is to go for ice cream, but I don’t think we can go if Junior and Oliver keep poking at one another.” And at the threat of missing out on a treat, the boys were suddenly thick as thieves once more. “A friend of mine is going to be joining us, as well.”

“What friend?” Junior took his sister’s place, leaning forward against the passenger seat.

John gave himself a moment to answer. This whole plan had been equal parts exciting and nerve-wracking since its inception. Roger was the one to bring it up first –“We’ve been together almost a year now. Maybe it’s time we let the kids know.” But he didn’t want to go ahead with that idea without John being onboard with it. And John was. He really was, and really is still now. But, as well as he knows his kids, he doesn’t know how they’ll react to someone special being in his life –and, more importantly, theirs. “Well, he’s been a very… good friend for some time now. And I thought you might like to know who your dad’s spending time with, you know?”

That answer seemed to satisfy Junior’s curiosity for now. John couldn’t see the boy still watching him intently.

Roger was already there when they pulled up to the little storefront. He waved to them, a big grin on his face and a shopping bag at his feet. John smiled softly to himself and put the car in park.

“Is that him?” Oliver asked.

“Yes, that’s Roger. Would you like to go say hello?”

Whether they did or not, they would have to overcome that hurdle first to get into the ice cream parlor. Fortunately Roger came bearing gifts, and after friendly hellos started handing them out to Sophie and Oliver while Junior lagged far behind the group. John hung back a few steps to keep pace with the young teen.

“You okay?”

Junior stubbornly shook his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are you dating him?” he asked with a slight grimace. John sighed inwardly but took the reaction in stride.

“Yes. He and I have been dating almost a year now.”

“Why?”

“Because I like him. Very much.” He forced a smile and a playful nudge. “Sort of like how you like that Anna girl in your maths class.”

Junior hid a blush in his hand, still scowling at the stranger talking excitedly with his little brother and sister. “So what about Mom, then?”

It was an accusation, full of hurt, but one John had been expecting. “He’s never going to replace her. And he has to intention of trying. And I understand this is going to be difficult for you—”

“So then why are you doing it?”

That sent a jolt through John’s chest, like a lightning strike through the heart. “Because… Because he makes me happy. And I hope that, once you get to know him a bit better, he’ll make you happy as well.”

“I don’t want to get to know him.”

“Daddy! Junior!” Sophie called back to them, holding up a stuffed bear too large to hug all the way around. “Roger got us presents!”

Inside they waited in a short queue to order their treats. Sophie reliably chose a rocky road waffle cone; Oliver went for one scoop of pistachio and one of strawberry; Junior got a cup of chocolate peanut butter. Both dads got milkshakes. They gathered around a little brightly colored table in the corner. Junior pushed himself so far back that he could’ve fallen right into the drywall. For a few minutes they made pleasant conversation, except for the eldest child, who just wanted to shoot laser beams from his eyes right through the intruder’s skull. But Roger didn’t seem fazed.

“Oh! I didn’t give you your gift yet, did I?” He reached down into his bag and pulled out a clumsily-wrapped box. “I hope you like it.”

Junior snatched the parcel away, quite confident he would hate it until he tore into the paper. A limited edition Star Wars Lego set. “… Why?”

“Hm?”

“Why did you get me Legos?”

“Oh, your dad said he got you something similar for your birthday, but that you didn’t have this kit specifically.” He laughed. “Almost fought a soccer mum for it in the middle of the toy store.”

Junior stared down at the box clutched tightly in his hands. His birthday was nine months ago. “… There are more pieces to the collection. This is just the main kit.”

“Wanted to have something to give you for your next birthday.” Roger gave a little wink.

“… Yeah. Okay.” He put it down in the seat next to him. “But now you promised. So now you have to get it for me.”

Roger nodded and took a sip of his shake, eyes smiling discreetly at his boyfriend. John felt the skies clear in his soul, even for just this small victory.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

“I promise, she’s going to love you.”

The assurance was genuine, and John knew it. But he also knew that, sitting in Roger’s car outside the daycare center, no reassuring words could put him at ease. “I’m alright,” he said, letting Roger run in to pick up his daughter. They were going to the zoo –“Hazel’s favorite place in the world”— John dared to hope it would go at least half as well as Roger’s first time meeting his own children, but the doubt sat like a large marble in his stomach.

Hazel said nothing to him when she got in the car. She had her face buried in the zoo brochure, carefully studying it and telling her father where she wanted to go. They were halfway there when Roger decided to introduce them. “Hazel, baby, this is my friend John. Can you say hello?”

She looked up at John, who gave her a nervous smile. “Hi.”

“Hello, Hazel. It’s very nice to finally meet you.” He wanted to talk to her more, but any other words were blocked by the lump in his throat. Hazel’s nose was buried in a picture book, anyway.

They arrived to the zoo and the little girl was immediately tugging on Roger’s hand in the direction of the reptile house. “Snakes, Daddy!”

He laughed softly and let himself be dragged. “Yes, we’ll go see the snakes. But we’re passing by so many interesting little critters in the meantime –why don’t we give them a chance to impress us?”

Hazel’s face bore all the skepticism a four-year-old could muster, but did change course to detour via the red panda exhibit. John trailed behind them with a tight smile on his face, feeling very much like an outsider and wondering how he could win Hazel over, or at least make sure she was comfortable in his presence without having to cling to her dad’s leg.

Roger was seamlessly dividing his attention between his excited little girl and his anxious boyfriend. He picked Hazel up so she could get a better view of the animals, and gestured for John to come stand next to them, Hazel between them on his hip. “Do you have any red panda facts you can share with John?”

She let out a long “um” as she thought. “They’re not actually pandas!”

Roger gasped. “Really? Could’ve fooled me!”

“And this one’s name Mica!”

John laughed softly. “Well, if they aren’t pandas, then what are they?”

But Hazel didn’t answer, watching as one in the enclosure moved from one tree branch to another. John knew enough about children that he didn’t feel ignored, but he couldn’t exactly count it as a win, either.

They saw the skunks, the beavers, and the otters before Hazel grew too impatient to put off the reptile house any longer, but Roger made it clear to her first that they were here to see all the animals, even if they spent the most time looking at the snakes. Hazel gave an excited nod as she pulled him toward the building.

It was dark inside, and filled with unique little habitats behind glass, as well as some larger tanks for larger creatures. Hazel darted excitedly from one to another to another. Roger kept an eye on her but let her run about, so long as she wasn’t causing trouble, and helped her read the plaques when she asked for assistance. John kept himself at some distance, watching the two read about various snakes and what the zoo had named them.

“Daddy, do you think there’s a snake with my name?”

“There might be. Let’s keep looking.”

The wheels started to turn in John’s head. He sought out a keeper of the snake house. “Hello, may I ask a favor?”

The woman greeted him with a smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

John pointed back in the pair’s direction. “The little girl right there is looking for a snake that shares her name, Hazel. Is there anything we can do to give her that?”

The zookeeper kept the smile on her face. “Every hour we bring out a docile little corn snake for the guests to touch. I think today we can call her Hazel.”

John grinned and thanked her at least three times before rejoining the others. On his return, Roger gave him a questioning look at the huge grin he was barely suppressing (of course happy that John was happy, but curious as to what caused the sudden change in demeanor). John just chewed his lip and let the surprise stay a secret for now. Roger didn’t have the chance to ask questions, anyway, as he was tugged along by a small and unusually strong child.

At three on the dot, the zookeeper called around for anyone who would like to come pet the corn snake, and Hazel was immediately bee-lining for the opportunity. Roger had to jog just to keep a step behind her. John followed at a brisk but casual pace. There was already a line by the time they made it over, and Hazel was whining as she stood on tiptoes to spot her goal. Roger laid a hand on her shoulder to keep her balanced, and to pull her gently against his thigh. “We’ll get a turn. I’m sure they won’t put the snake buddy away until everyone’s gotten a turn to see him.”

“Really?”

“Yes, I do believe so. Why don’t we tell John what we’ve been learning about the snakes we’ve seen so far?”

She looked up at John and huddled closer to her father’s legs, burying her face in his jeans. Roger gave John a sympathetic look. John was still all smiles.

After five minutes that felt like an eternity to Hazel, it was finally her turn to see the snake up close. “I know a lot about snakes,” she told the zookeeper.

“Oh, really? Well, do you know what this little girl is called?”

“It’s a corn snake!”

“Very good!”

Hazel ran a few fingers down the docile creature’s back, giggling. “What’s her name?”

“Her name is Hazel.”

Hazel (the girl, not the snake) stood there in rapt awe, mouth hanging open so far one might think she was the one who could unhinge her jaw. “That’s—… That’s my name!”

The woman feigned surprise. “Is it really?”

“Yes! That’s really my name, my daddy can tell you! Daddy! My name’s Hazel too, right?”

Roger laughed softly. If anyone might’ve been more elated than Hazel herself, it was her father at her reaction. “Yes, your name’s Hazel.”

“So I share a name with a snake! A little corn snake!”

His eyes flash to John, for just a second. “You do?”

She’s bouncing on her heels but is still very gentle with the snake. She enjoys every second of the minute she has before it’s the next person’s turn, but even when she has to leave the smile remained on her face. “Bye bye, other Hazel!” she called as Roger led her out the back, John coming alongside them. There was an ice cream stand just outside, and John, high on pride, offered to buy some before realizing he had only two pounds in his pocket. Roger laughed, pecked him on the cheek when his daughter wasn’t looking, and ordered two vanilla cones.

They sat at a picnic table to eat their snack. They some a few minutes in pleasant quiet, surrounded by the noises of other zoo patrons, and Hazel was slurping melted ice cream out of the cone she shared with her father before she spoke up. “John?”

John’s ears perked up. “Yes, Hazel?”

“Corn snakes look like copperheads, but they aren’t venomous like copperheads.”

He grinned brightly. “I didn’t know that, Hazel. You’re very clever.”

She smiled, tucked her chin against her chest, and handed the empty cone to Roger.

Hazel fell asleep in the car ride home, and slept through Roger carrying her upstairs and tucking her into bed with a little kiss to her head. He left the door ajar but headed back downstairs to where John waited to say goodbye.

John didn’t expect the goodbye kiss to be so passionate. But maybe he should’ve.

[hornsbeforehalos]

Waste Love: Part Five

Pairing: Colson Baker|Machine Gun Kelly x OFC Warnings: Alcohol and Drug Use, Language, Violence, Future Smut, Slow Burn, ANGST OUT THE ASS.

“Colson! I swear to fucking God you get on my fuckin’ nerves!” Tiffany screeched from the kitchen. The sound of her footsteps stomping down the hall brought a guilty smile to Colson’s face until suddenly the back of his head was stinging and a loud crack was heard through the room.

“Ah! What the fuck, bitch!?” He barked back with a hiss, jumping up and rubbing the spot of impact to sooth the sting, “The fuck is your problem?”

“Did you eat my last avocado?!” She questioned, gesturing to him with a rather large kitchen knife, “I swear to god I’m going to fucking stab you.” 

Slim snickered from his spot on the loveseat, his hand covering his mouth, “You done fucked up, boyyy.”

“Man I don’t even like avocado!” Colson argued as he backed away, his hands up in surrender, “It was fucking Rook, babe, I swear!” 

Seething, Tiffany spun around on her heels and headed back down the hallway to her brother’s room. “I’m going to fucking kill you, John!” 

Colson couldn’t help the snorting giggle that shot out of him as he busted out laughing. He and Slim followed behind her as she burst through JP’s bedroom door, the knife still clutched tightly in her hand.

“I can’t have anything in this fuckin’ house my own!” She bitched as she jerked the covers off of Rook’s sleeping form and lunged at him, the man instantly jumping up and defending himself.

“The fuck is wrong with you, you crazy bitch!?” Her brother shouted, holding Tiffany off of him with the knife dangerously close to his chest.

“You ate my avocado!” She repeated, grunting as the hand not holding the knife tangled in his hair with a sharp tug, “Piece of shit!” 

“Kels fucking ate it, bitch, get the fuck off me!” He yelled as he finally got his feet up to her stomach, kicking her off of him with so much force the she stumbled back into the wall. 

Colson had about a three second head start while she got her bearings to run for his life. 

“I’m going to fucking gut you!” She shrieked, picking up the fallen weapon and exiting the room. Slim attempted to stand in her way, but with just one look from the pissed off woman, he held his hands up in surrender and stepped away. He’d seen her fight the guys before, and it never worked out to their advantage. 

She flung the knife towards Colson’s head just as he’d ducked down on the other side of the sofa, the pointed tip of the blade whizzing past his shoulder and landing in the drywall behind him.

“You almost fucking stabbed me, you psycho!” Colson yelled, shocked but still laughing as he raised his head up, only to be tackled by the woman. He fell back onto the floor as she straddled him, her tiny hands wrapping around his neck and squeezing.

“That was my last avocado, you prick,” She snarled as she cut off his oxygen level. Colson obviously wasn’t going to let himself get choked out, especially by her, and he quickly wrapped his own hand around her throat, a smirk playing on his face as he licked his lips.

“You wanna play like that, huh?” He asked sadistically, effortlessly pushing her off of him before choke-slamming her into the tile beneath them. Her fingers released his throat immediately, but only to ball up into fists and fall onto the back of his head. She moved to knee him in the stomach, but her leg slipped as her vision started darkening. 

“Say your sorry.” Colson demanded, bright smile flashing at her as he watched her face turn red.

“Fuck you.” She hissed back, her nails still attempting to dig into his shoulders and push him off of her. 

“Later, princess. Now tell Daddy you’re sorry.” 

The smugness in his voice was enough to give her the strength to pull her knee up just so, the quick contact with his groin making Colson recoil away from her instantly with a pain filled groan.

“Awh, bitch, what the fuck,” Colson choked, rolling on to his side as he curled into the fetal position. She kicked him again in the back, huffing as she stood up. 

“That’s what you get when you eat my fuckin’ food!” 

“Gahhhhd damn, Tuff Ass Tiff strikes again, huh?” Andre asked as he entered the house through the garage, grocery bags loaded up his arms. He chuckled at the sight of Colson curled up on the ground, “What he do this time?”

“He ate my fuckin’ avacado! Please tell me you got more!” She begged, her breathing labored.

Andre’s laugh intensified as he entered the kitchen, setting the bags down on the counter before wiping his face with his hands, “Ohh, girl. You’re gonna kill that man one day.” 

She sat down on one of the bar stools near the counter and began going through the bags of assorted snacks, digging through everything until she found what she was looking for. She spun around to go looking for another knife, only to be met with the one she’d thrown at Colson being pointed at her by the man himself. 

Tiffany snatched it from his hand and turned back around to begin cutting up the fruit. Colson draped his arms around her shoulders lazily, bending down to kiss her cheek, “Feel better now, bitch?”

“Fuck you.” She retorted before popping a piece in her mouth, happiness and contentment spreading across her face. 

“Like I said, later.” Colson teased, stealing a large piece from the plate while leaning against the counter next to her with a wink. Tiffany jabbed the knife towards him again, her eyes narrowing at him with the threat as she continued to chew.

“Is the coast clear?” Rook questioned cautiously as he ducked his head into the kitchen, eyes scanning the room to make sure there were no flying objects, “I’m not gonna get stabbed for something I didn’t do, am I?”

“Can’t believe you fucking ratted on me, bro. She almost fucking killed me,” Colson exclaimed, eyes wide as he pointed towards the living room, “She put a fucking hole in the wall.” 

“You know better than to eat that girl’s food, Kels,” Andre replied, shaking his head in amusement, “I seen her put Slim in a chokehold over a Klondike bar.” 

“Facts,” Slim confirmed, shooting finger guns at Dre as he found his way in the room and sat on the other side of Colson, “I still say she fucked something up in my throat.”

“Yeah, well, I’mma be fuckin’ up her throat later if she don’t say she’s sorry.” Colson snarked, cocking an eyebrow at Tiffany, who flipped him off with a snort.

“Dude.” Rook barked, throwing his arms up in disgust, “Really?”

“Sorry, dog.” Colson chuckled as he looked back down to Tiff, scrunching his nose at her playfully as she rolled her eyes at him. 

“So who all supposed to be there tonight?” Rook asked, wanting to change the subject to avoid hearing anything perverted about his sister, “Is it gonna be lit?”

“Litty like a titty,” Colson replied, turning to look at him as he drummed his fingers against the counter, “I was about to go on the run for all the party favors, y'all wanna ride or just meet me there?”

“I’ll ride,” Slim and Rook said in unison. 

“I’ll meet you there later, babe. I still gotta take a shower and get ready.” Tiffany answered when Colson's questioning eyes met hers. He nodded his head and pushed himself from the counter, bending down to slip his fingers into her hair and kiss her. His tongue snaked into her mouth as the guys left the room, swirling with hers for a minute before he pulled away. 

“Wear something sexy for Daddy.” He winked before kissing her forehead, skipping away from her hand that popped out to smack his ass as he exited the room. 

Tiffany giggled before finishing her precious avocado and getting up to start getting ready. 

She took a shower and curled her hair, making sure every piece was in the perfect spot after applying her makeup. She made sure to do it up a little, her honey colored eyes shining bright with the smokey eyeshadow and long false lashes. She painted her favorite matte black lipstick across her lips, smiling at herself in the mirror. 

“God damn, Tiff,” Andre barked when she finally appeared from her room when she was finished, eyeing her outfit “You tryna make the nigga marry you or somethin’?”

“Shut the fuck up,” She snorted, taking the blunt he was holding out to her as she adjusted the high waisted leather skirt so she could sit down on the couch to slip her heels on. She hit the Dutch and let the smoke fill her lungs before standing back up, passing it back to him before pulling on the sleeve of the off the shoulder cropped Metallica shirt she was wearing. “I’m ready if you’re ready.” 

Colson’s house was already filled with people when they arrived, loud music pounding as they walked through the door. They found Colson in the living room with Rook and some others that she’d recognized, two girls sitting on either side of him with their arms wrapped around him. 

His eyes were only on her though as she approached him, giant beaming smile plastered on his face as he stood up, pulling himself out of the groupies’ embrace, “Fuckin’ finally. Holy shit, look how fuckin’ fine my bitch is.” 

Colson snatched her hand and pulled her to the other side of the coffee table, squeezing her ass tightly before dragging her into his lap as he sat back down. The girls who had been occupying the space with him scooted over barely, and Colson couldn’t stop himself from snapping at them, “Move, hoe, damn. The fuck?”

Huffing, they both got up and left, mumbling under their breath about how they didn’t see how She was so special. She cocked an eyebrow at Colson who just shrugged in response before attaching his lips to hers. They made out for a moment, ignoring the catcalls and wolf whistles from everyone around them. Tiffany pulled away first, smirking at him while wiping around her mouth, making sure her lipstick was still intact. 

“I'm thirsty.” She pouted, watching Colson lift a plastic cup to his lips for a drink. 

He chuckled at her baby voice, scrunching his nose before shifting her so he could reach between his legs, pulling out a bottle of Crown and another of Ciroc, “What would you like, my love?”

“Whiskey, please,” She smiled, clapping her hands before reaching for it. She cracked the bottle and brought it to her mouth, the amber liquid flowing down her throat with a comforting burn. 

“Mmm, that’s hot,” He mumbled, slipping the shoulder of her shirt down to graze his lips against her skin, “Do it again.” 

She snorted at him before raising the bottle, taking another drink from it before putting it down. 

���So fuckin’ sexy.” He praised, his fingers kneading into the flesh of her thighs while bucking up into her, “Can’t wait to fuck the shit out of you later.” 

“Dude! I’m right here,” Rook piped in, throwing an empty cup at the side of Colson’s head. The group all laughed, Tiffany and Colson both sticking their tongues out at the drummer. 

“You want summa that?” Colson asked, nodding his head to the coffee table, where a plate filled with white powder rested, “We got tabs and shit too somewhere.” 

“I’ll take a bump, but I don’t wanna go full scarface just yet. How many tabs have you taken?” She replied, reaching for the plate as Slim handed it to her.

“I took two about an hour ago.” Colson smiled, licking his lips as he watched her cut herself a small amount of cocaine from the pile. 

“That explains a lot,” She chuckled, handing him the plate so he could hold it for her while she brought the rolled hundred to one nostril. Closing the other with her finger, she took a deep inhale, the drug instantly shooting to the back of her throat. 

“Gah, that shits so fucking nasty.” She hissed, shaking her head as she exhaled. Rubbing the residue from the bottom of her nose, she took the plate from Colson so he could do a line, his way bigger than hers. 

He passed the plate back to Slim as JP tossed a joint to Tiffany, the woman humming in satisfaction as she brought it to her lips to light. Colson flicked the lighter for her and brought it to the tip, the cherry burning bright as she took a deep toke.

“Who got them X-O’s, Dubb?” Colson hollered, leaning back and cocking his head to see where his friend was. 

“They right here,” the man replied, handing the baggie filled with candy shaped pills to Colson as he walked up behind the couch. Tiff handed Dubb the blunt as she held her hand out for the bag, examining the contents to pick out which ones she wanted. 

“How many you gonna take?” Colson asked, wrapping his arms around her stomach to give her a squeeze, “I’m tryna get you fucked up.” 

Rolling her eyes, she pulled two pink pills out and popped them into her mouth, her face displaying disgust as she let them sizzle on her tongue, “Let’s see what these do and go from there, yeah?”

At some point in the night, once their highs had taken hold and had them feeling euphoric, the two ended up separated. Tiffany had changed into her bathing suit and was lounging by the pool, enjoying the fresh air and the feeling of the cool water dancing over her toes. She was smoking a blunt with her brother when a group of girls walked outside, their voices instantly hushing when they saw her. 

“Uh, hey, Kels is looking for you,” One of them said, an impish grin tugging on her lips, “He looks pretty fucked up.” 

“Yeah, well, so am I,” Tiffany returned, giggling as she passed the blunt back to Rook. 

“He’s a big boy, ladies. He can handle himself” Rook snickered, bringing the blunt to his lips. 

“I dunno, Rook,” another girl said, her lips twisting in uncertainty, “Someone should probably check on him.”

Sighing with annoyance, Rook rolled his head towards Tiffany as he stubbed out the roache. “You gonna go or you want me to?” 

“He was asking for her specifically.” The first girl interrupted, her eyes bouncing between faces before she looked back to Tiffany, “wanted to show you something or somethin’.”

“God damn it.” Tiffany complained, hanging her head back towards the sky as she grimaced, “Why does he do this shit to me.”

“I think it’s sweet.” The other girl squeaked out, covering her grin with her hand. 

Tiffany shrugged but stood up, adjusting her swimsuit bottoms before slipping on her flip flops and heading inside. 

She followed the sound of hollering and cheers into the kitchen, where she found Colson leaned over the island counter, snorting a giant line off the very naked girl who was currently laying on it. Another girl was behind him, her arms wrapped around him and her hand half way down his pants. 

When the line was successfully in his brain cavity, he twisted around with a goofy smile on his face as everyone yelled for him. His face brightened even more when he saw Tiffany standing there, eyebrow cocked and she laughed at him. “Havin’ fun there, Kels?”

The woman behind him with her hand below Colson’s belt threw a devious smirk in Tiffany’s direction, not even attempting to conceal what she was doing. Colson’s gaze trailed to where Tiffany’s eyes were locked into, the man finally registering what was happening. He shoved her away from him, hard, snarling at the little bitch, “The fuck is wrong with you?”

Tiffany chuckled as the girl took off after shooting daggers in her direction. Colson’s smile returned as his eyes raked over Tiffany’s frame. The tight little black bikini was a favorite of his and left very little to the imagination. He bit his lip as he approached her, his huge hands immediately finding purchase on her ass and giving it a squeeze. He pulled her into his bare chest, shoving his tongue into her mouth while one hand wrapped around her throat. She laughed into the kiss and wrapped her arms around him, stepping up onto her tiptoes to get closer. Another round of cat calls was heard behind them, and they broke apart to flip everybody off. 

“So is that one mine?” Tiffany asked innocently, gesturing with her hand to a line still resting on the naked woman in front of them, “I like cocaine and titties too.”

“God damn I love this bitch” Colson laughed, rutting his face into her hair as he handed her the straw. He watched in amazement as she snorted the four inch rail by herself.

She rolled her eyes at him as she sniffled the remnants up her nose, her fingernail poking him in the gut playfully. He winked at her before someone handed them both shots, the two downing them with their arms wrapped around each other. Colsons hands snaked down to her ass again as he lead her out of the kitchen, hoisting her up his body as they walked. She wrapped her thighs around his narrow waist as he carried her through the backyard. 

“Where are we going?” Tiffany asked, curious expression on her face as she met his eyes.

“I’m ‘bout to piss everyone off and fuck you in this hot tub.” Colson explained, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously at her before dropping her in the water.

Masterlist

Tags: @coffee-obsessed-writer @through-thesilver-lining@daryldixonandfrogs @buckyscrystalqueen @mgkobsessed@iamdorka @creatureofthen1ght-v3 @xxencagedxx@xxkellsvixen19xx @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk

[spin-birdie]

there was a conversation in the rk1k discord about a spiderman au a while back and i decided to try write something about it bc its consuming like 30% of my brain

idk if i’ll write more (im way better at writing ideas down as bullet points instead of prose) but man it just seems like a neat idea idk

word count: 1.6k

pairing: general

additional tags: human au, physical violence, gavin is an unsympathetic rat boy

Look, Connor considers himself a calm person. He’s level-headed at the best of times. But he’s pretty sure even the calmest person would panic at least a little if they got stuck to their bedroom wall.

One hand is completely splayed out on the ceiling, the other one still stuck to his sneaker. His feet aren’t quite flat on the ceiling, but he certainly wouldn’t have a comfortable fall if he stopped sticking to everything. Why he’s sticking to everything, he still doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know why anything that’s happened to him today has happened; he grew a good three inches taller overnight, he accidentally stuck to his biology textbook - and subsequently tore it to shreds - this morning, and it’s like he’s jumping at the slightest provocation. There’s been a foul taste in his mouth all day, and he swears he somehow burned a piece of paper he chewed on, but he hasn’t got a fever. It doesn’t make any sense.

Even so, the thought sends Connor’s anxiety through the roof…more to the point, his anxiety is making him stick to the fucking roof.

For no good reason, he keeps thinking about yesterday. The field trip to the CyberLife Lab, the spider that crawled onto his hand and left him a painful, bruising bite. The tour guide said something about the experiments they were running on arachnids and other small animals, genetically enhancing them with nanobots in an attempt to slow or prevent extinction, or…something. But that doesn’t make sense. There’s no way to confirm the effects are transmittable to humans.

It’s probably not helping him at all to scream his head off, but he’s not sure what else he can do. He’s pulling his hand away from the ceiling as hard as he can, even trying to pry it off with the sneaker in his other hand, but it’s not working. He’s just putting more cracks in the paint.

He can’t see the door opening from his angle, but he hears it, followed by his dad’s voice: “Connor, are you o-- What the fuck?!”

At the same time as his dad swears, Connor finally frees his hand with a startled yelp. Drywall flakes off with it, but it doesn’t quite fall into his face before his entire upper body falls down with nothing to hold it up. The upside-down view of his room, of his dad’s confused and horrified expression, makes Connor nauseous.

And just a second too late, it strikes him that he’s hanging from the ceiling of an old house by nothing but the balls of his feet. With a dull crunch, the drywall above him gives out and he plummets to the floor. Connor’s fall is half-broken by his bed, but his knees land straight on the floor. Carpet be damned, it’s a rough landing.

And now there’s a perfect handprint of missing drywall on Connor’s ceiling.

---

Okay. So maybe Connor has unhuman abilities thanks to a genetically altered spider. That’s fine, probably. Kind of. Once he figures out how to ignore them, everything can go back to normal.

And for a few weeks, it’s almost like Connor gets away with telling himself that blatant lie. Ignoring them during school is hard and stressful, but at home, he’s free to throw theories (and himself) at the wall to see what sticks; and once he’s done that, he knows how to avoid triggering them. It gets a little bit easier to stop sticking to everything, to stop burning whatever enters his mouth or visibly jumping whenever something sets off his fight-or-flight reflex.

Maybe it’s a smarter idea to tell someone. Or maybe telling someone would be the fastest way to be locked up in a government facility and experimented on until someone wrote a book about him. Or maybe he’s being paranoid, but still, Connor has a bad feeling that he doesn’t want anyone to know what’s happening to him. And apart from his poor father, no one seems to know.

“Hey, jackass! I’m talking to you!”

That might change if this guy doesn’t leave him alone, though. Connor’s sharpened foresight allows him to step out of Gavin’s reach before he can grab Connor by the back of his sweatshirt. Instead of turning back to face Gavin, he pulls up his hood and keeps walking as fast as he can without looking conspicuous.

Gavin reaches out again, successfully pulling Connor back by his backpack. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

As Connor is forcefully spun around, he barely stops himself from glaring. “I’m pretty sure I’m not. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t even the way to your house, so you ought to turn back and go home.”

Predictably, Gavin ignores him. “Don’t play coy. You promised to help me out with exams, remember? I just need your English notes; I’ll bring them back safe and sound tomorrow, alright?”

“When I promised to help you, I thought that meant tutoring you. I’m not letting you copy my notes. Especially if you’re copying them word-for-word.”

“That was one time--”

“If you don’t want to listen in class, that’s your own problem.” Connor can’t quite stop spite creeping into his voice when he continues: “I’m not letting you get us both in trouble just because you don’t want to stop being an asshole.”

“Watch the tone, robot,” Gavin sneers.

“If you literally ever watched your own, I’d consider it. Instead, you have to waste all your energy on being the biggest dickhead on the planet and pretending you’re not just like every other mediocre straight guy ever.”

He shrugs Gavin off and steps back. “Ask someone else for help. I’m done talking to you.”

That proves to have gone too far as soon as Gavin shoves Connor back into the wall of a nearby building. His backpack stops his body from colliding at full force, but his head still gets knocked pretty hard. Right before Connor recovers, Gavin moves forward and punches him straight in the diaphragm. He doubles over for a moment before Gavin grabs him by the jaw and shoves his head back against the wall.

“Alright, smartass! I’ll give you one more opportunity to do this the easy way.”

It dawns on Connor just then; they’re alone. Connor is the only kid who goes home this way, and he doesn’t live in the nicest part of town. At school, there are always witnesses, no way for people to get away with beating each other up for very long. Out here, people probably won’t step in unless Connor runs for help, and he’s not sure if he can get away fast enough. At least, not without setting off his powers.

Connor bares his teeth. “Smartass this, retard that, do you even know my real name? Is your brain that small?”

Gavin hits him in the stomach again. And again. Connor thinks he hits a kidney on the third strike. And then he makes a snap decision, jerking his head to the side and biting down, hard, on Gavin’s finger.

“Ow, what the fuck?! Ow!”

Gavin recoils, clutching his hand like it’s on fire. Connor didn’t expect such a strong response, but he’s just glad he hasn’t got his back against a wall, and he wants to keep it that way. Without thinking, Connor grabs Gavin by the ears and headbutts him with all the force he can muster.

He promptly realizes a human skull is harder than he thought, so he hurts himself just as much as he hurts Gavin. And he’s within range for Gavin to reel back and knee him directly in the groin. As he curls in on himself, Gavin throws him to the ground and kicks him again in the stomach. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

He doesn’t stop, he even kicks and stomps on Connor’s ribs and face a few times for good measure. There’s blood in his mouth, and he’s not 100% sure it’s Gavin’s. He pulls his hood all the way over his face in an attempt to protect himself.

And a few moments later, it abruptly stops. Gavin breathes like he’s tired, but he’s not kicking Connor anymore.

“What are you doing?!” an unknown voice shouts. “Leave them alone!”

Gavin swears through gritted teeth, and Connor hears footsteps sprinting away. He doesn’t get up. The newcomer murmurs under his breath - their? It’s a masculine voice, at least - before more steps are heard. A hand rests on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

It takes Connor a few moments to find his voice. In the meantime, he drags himself into a sitting position, wincing at the pain. He’s definitely going to have some spectacular bruises, and that’s a best-case scenario. “I think so,” he grits out.

“Can you tell me your name?”

Connor lifts his hood enough to look at the stranger. A tall guy with tawny skin, who looks to be a little older than Connor. His head is shaved, but there’s a ghost of stubble on his jaw. His eyes are heterochromatic, focused intently on Connor even as he not-too-subtly gawks at the stranger’s arms. He’s obviously athletic, and the tank top he’s wearing doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination.

Oh, right. Still bi.

And still in immense physical pain. Connor leans over and cradles some of the worse pain spots. “I’m Connor.”

“Markus,” the stranger replies.

Something feels amiss all of a sudden. It’s close to that distinct feeling Connor gets when he’s in danger, but there’s something off about it. It’s pulling him towards something instead of away; towards Markus, specifically. Some unheard epiphany is pulling at the corners of Connor’s mind, stronger and stronger until it snaps. Almost simultaneously, they speak:

“You’re like me…”

[tastingmellow]

Stereotypes

A/N: Fourth part of this series! One more to go! Thank you for the amazing feedback and love. Remember, if you wanna be tagged you have to comment and let me know!

Warning: Fluff! Some Violence! This is really gonna be my favorite part.

Word Count: You guess right, i don't know

Disclaimer: Gif Not Mine

________________

"Erik!" You yelled out, your voice ringing out through his apartment. Your bare feet padded against the hard wood of the floor as you made your way into the kitchen. You lightly adjusted the adjusted Erik's shirt that loosely covered your otherwise bare body.

"What's up?" He replied as you entered his kitchen, being greeted with the view of his bare back as he cooked over the stove. Your eyes traveled down, an eyebrow lifting and a smirk appearing as you landed on his black boxer briefs tightly hugging his waist and ass.

"Heyyy, baby..." You spoke lowly while slinking your way over to him. You lightly bit your lip before smacking his ass, making him pause before turning around to stare at you, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you looked up at him. "Okay, Y/N. You gon' have to stop that shit." He spoke before turning back around.

You laughed, hugging him from behind as you pressed your lips between his shoulder blades. "Sorry, Thickems." You giggled as he huffed before letting him go and hopping onto the counter beside him.

"I'm done, I swear. But look, I wanted to ask you something." You spoke, catching Erik's attention as you lightly swung your feet. He cut off the stove and stood between your legs, his arms engulfing your waist and pulling you closer. "You seem nervous, if you wanna try anal just- OW!" He yelped, rubbing his chest as you punched him, your face frowned up as he laughed.

"Okay, baby. I'm done, I swear. What's on your mind?" He spoke, rubbing your thick thighs as you sighed. "We've been together for four months and I was thinking...it's time to meet the family." You spoke slowly as Erik looked at you.

It was quiet for a moment beford you heard him chuckling. "What's so funny, Erik?" He shook his head, laughing a little harder before leaning up and pecking your lips. "I'm just laughing at the fact you were really nervous." He spoke before laughing hysterically.

You rolled your eyes, shoving him off before beginning to walk away. Erik jogged after you, grabbing your waist and pulling you back into hid hard chest. "Wait, wait. Listen, Princess, if you really want me to meet them I will. And yes, I will be on my best behavior." Erik leaned forward, kissing your forehead as you smiled and hugged him.

"So, when am I meeting them, next week?" Erik inquired, walking back to the stove. "Tomorrow, at the barbeque." You spoke before rushing to his room and closing the door. "Y/N, WHAT?!"

_________________

"Erik, you're only meeting my mom, brother, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, and cousins. Not even all of them." You spoke as you applied your lip gloss. You pushed your long box braids over your shoulder before leaning over and taking Erik's face in your hands as he lightly chewed his lip. "They're going to love you, now come." You stepped out of the car, smoothing out your knee length, floral, yellow sundress before making your way to the backyard of your older brother's house, Erik in tow.

You turned around, not being surprised at the sight of Erik admiring you, from the box braids to the cute wedges you wore. "You sure we can't just get back in the car for 10 minutes, you look damn good, baby." He spoke, eyes raking over you as you rolled your eyes, holding in a smile.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the gate, opening it before being met with the sight of kids running around, your aunts and mom dancing, your couins laughing with your brothers and your uncles playing cards.

The sound of the creaking gate caught your mom's attention and she squealed. "There's my baby!" She exclaimed, catching the attention of every one else. Your mom wrapped you in your arms, hugging you tightly as your brother rushed over, nearly pushing each other down.

"Look at big head, growing up!" Your oldest brother, Darren yelled as he reached out and wrapped you in his arms, your other three brothers caging you in a group hug. You giggled, breaking away from all of them as you turned and grabbed Erik's hand. "Hey guys, this is my boyfriend! Erik meet my mom, Elisa. My oldest bro Darren, Second oldest James, Third is Kenan, and last but not least is Dominic."

Your mom engulfed Erik in a hug before leaning to you, "Wow, he looks even bettee in person." You giggled and turned to your brothers, all of them staring him down. Your second oldest took a step forward, eyeing Erik before turning to his brothers.

"Oh, this the dude mom's been telling us about, I think she liked him more than you sis." He chucklee before reaching his hand out, "I'm James. You can call me J though, I hear you been taking good care of our little sister."

Erik chuckled as he shook his hand, looking to you. "Yeah, she deserves everything this world has to offer and more." He spoke dearly as you smiled, kissing his cheek as the other two youngest, oldest boys apporached, dapping him up.

Darren, however, moved back to go inside the house. You eyed him wearily before turning back to Erik who looked at you questionably. You shrugged. "Oh, boys, the family football game is about to start. Y'all should get changed!"

You squealed, turning to Erik. "Hey, what if Erik joined you guys? He's amazing, but he won't join the football team, no matter hoe many times I beg him." You roll your eyes he chuckles.

"Sound good, man! Come on, I got some clothes for you." Kenan spoke up, wrapping an arm around Erik's neck. Erik leaned over and gave you a quick kiss before making his way inside. "Meet you at the park!" You yelled as every one loaded up their cars. You reached into the pocket of your dress, grabbing Erik's car keys. "Wanna ride in a Jag, ma?" Yoh spoke, twirling the keys around your finger before laughing as your mom ran to the car, you right behind her.

_________________________

Everyone had already made their way to the park, Erik's currently chatting it up with your brothers in Darren's Lincoln.

"So, Y/N is just swinging, having a ball, then all of a sudden the curtain rod falls. The drywall comes out with it and Y/N lands in the tub. Mom is in the doorway, all of us behind her and little sis looks terrified. Mom just shakes her head and says, 'That was about a 6. But this ass whoopin'? This about to be a ten.' When I say ma snatched her up so fast. We'd never seen her move that quick!" Dominic laughed as he finished retelling a childhood story.

Everybody in the car was cracking up, everyone except Darren. "Man, Y/N stayed getting in trouble!" James spoke out as Darren parked the car.

Everyone hopped out, Darren pulled James to the side as everyone else walked out to the field, laughing and playing around. James looked at Darren. "What's up, bro?" Darren huffed, leaning against the car. "I'm just trying to figure out why y'all playing buddy, buddy with this nigga." James looked at him before shaking his head.

"Fuck is you on, man?" He asked while Darren scoffed. "This broad ass mofo just walks up with our baby sister and y'all just letting him waltz in? What kinda shit is that? You know what happened last time when we did that shit." Darren spoke, his voice raising.

James nodded, incredulously chuckling. "Is this what that fuck ass attitude is about? About a bitch ass nigga that hurt her? A bitch ass nigga that YOUR homeboy, if I remember correctly?"

Darren looked away, huffing before James continued. "Dude, not every guy dating sis is gonna do wht he did to her. Man, look at her, she's happy. She ain't even thinking about T's hoe ass." They both turned, seeing as you smiled at Erik, his arms around your waist as he kissed your cheeks repeatedly. You seemed to be squealing as he tickled you, trying to push his hands away as he pulled you closer.

Darren's gaze softened as he watched your smile grow wider, your eyes full of light. "Just give dude a chance, he makes Baby happy." James patted his older brother's shoulder before pulling him along.

Darren walked up to Erik, holding out his hand. "Hey, man. I'm Darren, sorry about earlier. Just wasn't feeling it." He spoke and you looked up at him, smiling softly as they dapped each other up. "All good man, I know how it is. Ready to get yo ass whooped though?" Erik spoke, taking Darren aback before he smirked. "Aye Nigga, don't think just because you dating my sis that I won't embarrass yo ass." You smiled at the both of them as they ran out to the field, making your way to your mom. "Darren's in a good mood, huh?" You spoke.

And she sipped her Coke before nodding. "Yeah, I expected him to be more gruff, escpecially since you know...T." She spoke sympathetically as she rubbed your leg. You took in a deep breath, looking over at them. "Yeah, well, Erik's nothing like him." You spoke. "We know, baby." You smiled at your mom, holding her hand as you crossed your legs.

______________________

The football game was going well. Erik, James, and a few of your cousins were up, Darren, Kenan, and Dominic close behind. The sun had gone down and you, your mom, Darren's girlfriend and his daughters had became opposing cheerleaders to your aunts, James' wife and their daughters as well as Kenan's daughter.

A quick break was called and the men and women parted, going to get water. You grabbed a cold bottle of water from the freezer and handed it to a now shirtless and sweaty Erik. He took it graciously, chugging half before smiling at you. "Having fun, baby?" He nodded, grabbing your waist and pulling you close.

You'd usually complain about him being sweaty but you were very slightly tipsy so that was a non-factor. "I am, Princess. Think I'm gonna have more fun with you though." You laughed as he leaned over, kissing your neck. The intimate moment was stopped as you heard yelling from behind you.

You and Erik pulled apart, the two of yoh making your way closer. "Fuck off me! This bitch coming around here acting like we good and he ain't try to fucking hurt my sister?!" You heard Dominic yelling as James held him back and your mom stood in front of him trying to calm him.

You grabbed Darren's arm and he looked at you. "What's going on?" Before Darren could speak you heard a familiar voice. "Move the fuck out my way. I ain't here for your punk ass." You turned and saw a very familiar face.

"T?" You spoke lightly and everyone looked at you, including him. Your body became rigid and your eyes cold as you looked at him. "Hey, Baby-..."

"Don't say shit to her!" Darren spoke up, pushing himself im front of T. Erik looked at him, they're eyes catching each other. "Erik Stevens? What you doin' around here?" You looked up at Erik as he pulled you to his chest.

"Always knew you was a punk didn't think you went for leftovers." T called out. Erik moved to jump at him but you pushed him back, shaking your head. "No, Erik, please." You spoke and he looked at you then back to T. "Go ahead, Y/N. Tell him how I fucked yo ass up that night, that was some good pussy right there."

Before anyone could stop you, you had lunged at T. Your heel slammed into his crotch before your hands pulled him down, his face hitting your knee. He fell on hid back and you dropped to your knees, punching him. Hit, after hit, after hit landed. You knuckles were bruised and bloody. "You. Fucking. Raped. Me." You spoke, punching him with each word.

T grabbed your fist, about to hit you before you were tugged off and Erik was pulling him up by his collar. Erik reeled his fist back, punching T repeatedly. "Don't fucking to her, nigga."

Darren pulled him off, letting T fall to the grass, bloodied and bruised face. James carried you to Erik's car and sat you in the passenger seat as you huffed. He shut the door and hopped in the back seat while Erik and Dominic rushed to get in the car.

You all pulled off with the rest of the family, making sure your mom and the children were safe. You looked ahead, the car silent as the four of you pulled up to the house. All of you hopped out, hugging everyone good bye as well as apologizing to them.

Once you and Erik said your goodbyes you two got in the car. It was still for a minute before Erik turned and grabbed your face. You squeaked before moaning as you leaned further into him. You lightly bit his bottom lip and he groaned, pressing his tongue into your mouth while his hand traveled under your dress.

Your hand stopped his, the two of you pulling away, panting. "Sorry, baby. But damn...you sexy as fuck when you mad." You laughed at Erik's comment, leaning over and pecking hid lips. "You are...a piece of work, Mr Stevens." You spoke.

You and Erik's eyes widened before he grinned, licking his lips. "And I’m all yours, mama. Now let's go home so I can tear that ass up." You giggled as he pulled off, speeding down the road. You smiled before sitting up. "Hold up nigga, you was about to fuck me in front of my mama house!'

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Das it! The fourth part is done! Like, reblog, comment, all that! Next part is the final part! Some tags still aren't working so make sure you share!

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