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magpiepills · 3 months ago

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Promises Broken

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Javier Pena x f! Reader, Javier pena x unnamed OC

Word count: 1.1k

Summary: what happens after you knock Javi up?

Warnings: SMUT, SENSITIVE TOPICS, DO NOT READ THIS IF IT MIGHT UPSET YOU. Abortion, drinking, smoking, PIV, oral- f receiving, fingering, mpreg, sad Javi, absolute nonsense. No editing no beta, nothing like that.

A word from the author: there’s no reason for this other than @schnarfer and I thinking it’s kinda funny. Thank you to the folks who read the original, Promises, Promises

Javier shifts uncomfortably in the metal folding chair. The tv plays quietly in the corner, some tv judge bangs a gavel, someone coughs, a telephone rings, a chair scrapes against the worn linoleum floor. These things irritate him. Everything irritates him. His back has a twinge and his tits are sore. You still don’t answer the phone and he wishes he hadn’t memorized your number.

He’s assigned a number at the front desk and when it is called he is handed a clipboard full of forms to fill out. He balances it on his knee and scowls, unable to let go of his irritation. He didn’t even want you anymore. He only kept calling because he hoped you might chip in on the abortion. He certainly wasn’t keeping it. Sure, for a moment he thought maybe he should. He thought of his parents, he thought of the future. But he was here, alone, and living in the present, so he had to do what he had to do.

He filled out the form, writing as neatly as he could. After a long wait in that damned chair he finally got called back. An exam, a litany of questions, a knowing look, and a package of pills that he tucked into his leather jacket along with a list of instructions.

Steve was waiting in the car across the street. The men didn’t speak until they were back on the other side of town.

“You want to get some lunch?”

Food was the last thing Javi wanted.

“Just drop me off, Steve. And let’s just keep this between us, alright?”

“Sure. Sure. I don’t know anything. Didn’t see you today.”

Javi softened, nodding as he got out of the car. “Thanks.”

Inside his apartment, he turned on the tv, switching channels until he found a channel playing reruns of Gunsmoke. It reminded him of home. He took his pill and settled back on the couch, afghan draped around his shoulders. same couch you’d fucked him on with a weary sigh, and tried to sleep. Matt Dillon never had these problems. He pitied himself, he slept fitfully, he took the next day off work, blaming a migraine.

The rest of the week passed, and Javi’s mood didn’t lift. He worked as long as he could, spending as much time away from the office as possible. Even if it wasn’t strictly necessary, he would sit in his Jeep with the window cracked, chain smoking and stewing, logging his time in thought as “surveillance.”

You’d used him. Almost made a mother of him, and you couldn’t even say goodbye. The hot tears that burnt his cheeks only pissed him off.

Javi needed a drink by the time he made it back to his apartment. He ate leftover take out, and added to the mountain on unwashed laundry beside the bed.

On Friday, Steve cornered him at his desk. “Connie wants to go out tonight,” he said, with a resignation that suggested the matter was settled.

“So take her out, you don’t need my permission,” Javi grumbled, annoyed at the invitation made out of what he assumed was pity. He didn’t want to be cheered up. He didn’t want to talk.

He thought he’d gotten his point across until a small and determined fist rapped on his door at 6:45.

Connie stood expectantly, purse on her shoulder, husband cowed just down the corridor.

“Come on. Zip up your pants. We’re going.”

Javi opened his mouth to argue, but closed it again and took his wallet from its spot on the counter and pocketed his keys, following behind his friend’s wife just as she knew he would.

The bar was smoky. Popular with locals and foreigners alike, the drinks were strong and the lights were dim and the music was loud enough that Javi found himself unable to think. He was happy for the break from his thoughts.

Steve and Connie tried to talk over the noise but little of what they said made it to his ears. Javi surveyed the crowd, recognizing a fair number of people, clocking a few of the prostitutes he knew, a few of his CIs, and among them, one pretty woman he’d never seen before. Pretty, short, brunette, smiling and dancing, and looking directly at him.

Javi ashed his cigarette and made a beeline toward her. It was an easy sell. He leaned close so she could hear him offer to buy her a drink from the bar or to make one much better back at his. He flashed his badge, and she took his hand, following him out into the night. In the cab on the way home, he kissed her, asked her if she wanted to come on his fingers or on his face first. She didn’t smell like you, though, didn’t kiss him like you did. She was great, but she wasn’t you. He tried to put you out of his mind.

He tried not to think about you when he sucked her clit hard, when he opened her with two thick fingers and when he guided her onto her knees and gripped the plush, tan flesh of her hips, burying his condom-wrapped cock deep in her pussy that didn’t quite fit him like yours did. He held back, not pounding her as hard or as fast as he would with you. He held her after she came on him with a pretty cry of his name, but the fun was over.

“I’ll call you,” Javi promised at the doorway as you gathered your purse and coat, leaving soon in the cab he called for you.

“No you won’t,” she laughed and kissed him goodbye.

Even if he knew she was right, the rejection stung a little, it hung in the air as he watched her climb into the yellow car. Regret crept up his neck.

Javi showered, body loose and tired under the hot water, he soaped himself, rinsed, and brushed his teeth. He put on the cleanest boxers he had left and turned out the lights.

Before he could get into his bed, before he could throw an old tshirt over the damp spot on his sheets, he heard another knock on his door.

“Fuck me.”

It was well after one in the morning, and if Steve was here to bust his balls over leaving early to get laid, he might deck him. His right hand was curled preemptively into a fist when he opened the door, but he quickly dropped it when he saw you, standing there, smiling, bottle of whiskey in your hand.

#bat writes #pedro pascal as javier pena #javier pena x reader #javier pena smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena narcos #javi pena narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal character fanfiction #javi peña #javier pena x you #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #javier pena x female reader #javi pena #javier pena x ofc

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Not All That Glitters Is Gold Part 2

Hello! Welcome to part two of my omegaverse. Just a heads up. This chapter is a bit dark. Trigger warning for sex trafficking. Not Steve. This was a way for me to show how well tuned Steve is too his clients.

Part 1

***

Steve packed his bag and stood up to see Robin waiting for him.

“You ready to go?” she asked, holding out her hand for his bag.

He handed it to her. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

They walked out to the waiting car. Once inside Robin asked, “Here’s your phone. The word for you being in danger is kitten. The word for spontaneous heat is catnip. And the word for bonding talk and contract buying is tower.”

Steve took the small flip phone. He had his own smart phone, but those weren’t allowed anywhere near clients. The last thing a Starcourt omega needed were crazed alphas stalking them. He handed her his. She slipped it into her purse.

“Just go a message from Dillon’s PA,” she said, looking at her phone, “he has just gone into pre-rut. Fever, irritability, and mood swings.”

Steve sighed. He liked to get there before that happened. “Did he start early?”

Robin sent off a message and moments later she growled at the response. “Apparently not. Apparently, he didn’t want you there for pre-rut and lied.”

He growled too. “Put him on the black list and tell his PA if he so much as twitches wrong during this, I’m leaving.”

She nodded. “I’ll also let management know. There’s a reason for omegas to be there during the pre-rut and that’s the safety of the omega. If he can’t follow a simple rule like that, what other rules is he going to break?”

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You think I should pull out?”

Robin thought about it a moment. “It’s up to you. One lie isn’t a deal breaker per se. Lots of alphas do stupid shit the first time because they think they’re impressing you.”

Steve nodded. “There is something about this lie that makes me itch, though.”

“So pull out,” she said. “If you’re getting the skin crawlies, don’t go into something you can’t get out of.”

He thought about it all the rest of the trip, until they pulled up in front of the building.

“I think I’m going to go in anyway,” he murmured. “It could be as you said before about it just being fragile alpha ego or it could be a clusterfuck. But the only way to find out for sure is if I meet the client.”

Robin patted him on the shoulder. “You’ve got good instincts, Steve. I’ll back you up in whatever way you need.”

“Right,” Steve said, tapping his lip. “Stay with the car until I text you.”

She nodded again. “Roger that!”

Steve smiled at her and gave her hand a squeeze of reassurance. “Alphas are stupid. I’m glad I never have to deal with them outside of work.”

Robin laughed. “I know, right? But we’re here now. Go show that loggerhead who’s boss.”

Steve grabbed his bag and kissed her cheek. When he got out onto the pavement he looked up at the high rise penthouse. Dillon’s wasn’t the top suite, but he wasn’t near the bottom either.

The doorman stopped him at the door with a critical eye on what he was wearing. All of Steve’s clothes were designer, but comfortable and something he didn’t care about being ripped off him. The Victoria’s Secret PINK sweatshirt he’d cut into a croptop was paired with baggy sweatpants that fuck on the ass and power on one leg and bottom on the other.

Steve just cocked his head to the side. “Dillon Forrest is waiting for me, doll.”

The doorman was about bluster something about not letting in the trash when Dillon’s PA came bursting through the door.

“Oh thank god you’re here!” she said. “His pre-rut is progressing faster than usual!”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That’s why the omega needs to be there before any of that shit goes down.”

She sighed. “I know, I tried to tell him, but he said it was fine. He had a meeting this morning that he didn’t want to put off.”

Steve sighed. Ego. Especially alpha ego was the worst.

He looked back over at the doorman who was opening and closing his mouth like a guppy fish.

When Steve raised an eyebrow suddenly he was spewing apologies and stuttering excuses.

“Take me in,” Steve told the PA, completely ignoring the doorman.

She nodded and led him to penthouse. It was bright and sunny. And that was a problem. His client was on the sofa practically shaking from the pre-rut symptoms.

He found the remote to the shades and closed them, casting the room into dim light. Immediately the twitchy actor breathed out a sigh of relief.

The PA’s eyes narrowed at the drastic change in behavior.

“You act like this is your first rut,” Steve snapped, pulling out a bottle of water from his bag.

Dillon and his PA exchanged a glance and Steve’s eyes went wide.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Steve growled. “How long were you on suppressants?”

Dillon blushed, looking away then back up at the PA. “Since I presented when I was sixteen.”

“And you’re twenty-two now?”

Dillon nodded. Again he avoided looking at Steve and kept looking at the PA like she was in charge, not him.

Steve looked around and put his hands on his hips as he pursed his lips.

“This is a completely different situation then the one that was presented to the company,” Steve bit out. “I have to call my handler.”

He pulled out the phone and called Robin. He explained everything to her as he eyed Dillon and his PA. There was something off about the whole situation. The PA kept her eyes on Dillon, her fingers drumming on her arm, both arms crossed in front of her chest.

Steve listened to Robin, tilting his head further and further as he watched the two them.

“Kitten,” he said. “I think I left something in the car, I’ll be down to grab it okay?”

The PA frowned and stepped forward. “What did you forget?”

“It won’t take long,” Steve murmured, not bothering to answer her. There was a knock on the door and he went to answer it.

“Oh good you’re here,” he said with relief and then quickly closed the door behind them.

“Run!” he whispered to Robin.

She grabbed his hand and opened both elevators and got in one and told Steve to get in the other and go to the first floor and then down the stairs.

Steve nodded. Once in the elevator he called her.

“What’s going on?” Robin asked, panic rising her voice.

“I think Dillon was raised in sex trafficking ring,” he explained, “and you need to send someone to get him out of there now.”

Each omega had their own driver. Big, burly fellows for fending off large crowds of fans or very persistent alphas. And like extreme cases like this where they needed two pairs of hands, the handler and driver would work together to keep their omega safe.

Steve driver was a man named Xander Poulson and had been with Steve since the beginning. Robin had hand picked him and they relied on him for everything when Steve was on the job.

Robin opened her mouth to ask for particulars but closed it, messaging the driver to get Dillon out that suite instead. “All right, Xander will meet us at the car in five minutes.”

After that everything just happened so fast. Dillon sat listlessly between Robin and Steve as Xander sped away.

“How did you know he was in danger?” Robin asked as she rapid fire texted Starcourt management.

Steve ran his fingers through Dillon’s hair softly and the alpha sighed. “He was about to experience his first rut with an escort after having been on suppressants for six years.”

Robin looked down at the now almost delirious actor. “Shit. The only reason for an alpha to be on suppressants was if they were a danger to omegas.”

“Or if they being forced to have sex with other alphas,” Steve muttered darkly.

Dillon whimpered.

“Your flat is being set up for a first rut,” Robin said. “Management is okay with him being there because he’s too out of it to know where he is.”

Steve nodded. He wasn’t sure he could trust anything in the dossier considering most of what they now knew was a lie. “Shit Robin, I can’t even scent him! He smells duller than a beta.”

Robin frowned. “I’ll have a doctor sent over as well.”

They arrived back at Steve’s building and were quickly ushered in. The doctor saw to him first and administered medicine and tranquilizer to put him to sleep for a couple of hours to try and equalize the rut.

Dr Sam Owens, Robin, and manager, Jim Hopper were standing with Steve in his living room.

“Do you think you would have been harmed?” Hopper asked gruffly.

Steve shook his head. “I think they forced the rut because of what happened with his scent. I think they were hoping to jump start it so that he could be pimped out to omegas. But they couldn’t have it be any omega, they had to have someone who could gently see him through it.”

Dr Owens shook his head. “It wouldn’t have worked. He was too far gone. If you hadn’t acted as quickly as you did, there’s a good chance he would have destroyed his secondary gender when he came out the rut.”

Steve just shook his head.

“I just want to know how long they’ve been controlling him,” Robin hissed.

Hopper shook his head. “Dillon was a child actor, there is no telling how long they’ve had their claws in him.”

“Do we know anything about the ring he was being trafficked in?” Dr Owens asked Hopper.

“I’ve spoken to the FBI and INTERPOL, they have a pretty good idea which one it is,” Hopper growled. “The Upside Down, run by Henry Creel. And if Dillon willing to give them information they can probably take it down for good.”

“That’s a relief,” Robin said.

Hopper turned to Steve. “How did you know he was being trafficked?”

Steve blushed and rocked back on his heels. “No hot shot alpha actor was going to defer to their PA not unless it was a relation. Plus there was the fact she never introduced herself. Add to that all the lying about what it was and how little they both knew about ruts, it just really couldn’t be anything else.”

“You did good, Steve,” Hopper said. “You saved that man’s life and may have just taken down one of the biggest sex rings on the North American continent.”

“I was just doing what I do best,” Steve said, “take care of alphas in need. That’s what rut servicing is at it’s core, after all.”

“Well, I’m going to want to keep this hush hush,” Hopper said. “At least as far as the company is concerned. I don’t want to paint a target on your back.”

“I’ve already begun the scrubbing process regarding their files and contract with us,” Robin said. “The process should be done in two hours.”

“Good.”

“How long until he wakes up?” Steve asked Dr Owens.

Dr Owens looked at his watch. “In about an hour.”

Steve nodded. “That should give me plenty of time to get ready.”

He excused himself and went into the bedroom.

“That was not how wanted to spend my morning,” Hopper growled.

“I feel you, boss,” Robin agreed. “I wanted to pull out of the job when we were in the car, but Steve sensed something else was going on right away.”

Hopper nodded. “He isn’t our highest paid omega by a long shot, but he is the best.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Dr Owens said.

“Well, gentlemen,” Robin said, stowing away her laptop. “You really don’t want to be here when the fucking starts.”

Dr Owens and Hopper made faces and allowed themselves to be ushered out of Steve’s apartment.

Robin went through and made sure that the fridge was stocked to her specifications and then locked the door behind her.

***

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @lexirosewrites @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @itsall-taken @bookbinderbitch @redfreckledwolf @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @yikes-a-bee @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @irregular-child @nburkhardt @apomaro-mellow @yellowdevilkitten @lingeringmirth @rememberthatiloveyou @demolvr @ellietheasexylibrarian @slowandsteddie @mangoinacan13

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar eddie munson #alpha eddie munson #omegaverse #a/b/o verse #tw sex trafficking #omega steve harrington

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thequeenofthedisneyverse · 9 months ago

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Finally! Meet my spidersona, SPIDERBEAT!

Here's Omari without the skirt

(Click for better quality)

Moodboard:

As always, feel free to ask questions about him. Likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated! And yes, you can draw them if you wish

Special thanks to @cherryvampiro for the tutorial and for giving me anough inspiration/confidence to finally draw her!

P.S Omari was originally going to be a girl, but then I wanted her to be a boy, then I thought...why not both?

I'll be adding more to this post (or I might do separate posts) so stay tuned!

Text (In case it was hard to see):

Omari Jewel Octavious is from earth 222A is Spiderbeats - A beat dropping, bars spitting, melodic singing, dress making, y2k sensation.

She's super optimistic and friendly, maybe a little sassy and snarky. Just think Poppy from trolls, Charlotte from princess and the frog, Veruca from Willy Wonka, Darla Dimple from "Cat's don't dance", and Bugs bunny.

Omari also has the ability to sing in two different tones, masculine and feminine. He started practicing at nine just for fun and now he uses his two different voices for singing and rapping. She also uses these tones whenever he is feeling masc or fem.

Omari's parents are Olivia Octavious and Maxwell Dillon. Olivia is a scientist and Maxwell own's an Electric company. Omari also has an older brother named Marcus (19) who is studying to be a lawyer, and two younger twin siblings, Olivia (girl) and Micha (boy), who are both eight.

Right before omari was about to perform on stage he got bitten by a radioactive Orb Weaver Spider. (A CIA experiment lab was training spiders to act based on certain sounds. Over time, with a little biological adjusting, they started making webs that created music. Each strand had a different note attached to it and the spider would make sounds similar to songs they would hear the scientists play.)

What makes him different?

The spider venom caused his brain to change how he hears things. Giving him a version of MES “Musical ear syndrome” if you will. His brain now creates music in various ways and types.

When it comes to people he knows like family or friends she’ll hear their “theme song”. Basically just sounds/beats his mind makes up corresponding to the person's vibe. But the theme songs are always the same when it comes to a specific person, never changing.

The theme songs are at a low velocity in the back of her mind like how we hear music in our brains but just a smidge louder. Villains also have a theme song of their own in her brain. But they are very loud, almost overwhelming (it works as a constant spidey-sense until the battle is over). The reason for this is because he’s going through an intense and frustrating moment so the music will be intense and frustrating in his mind.

He can still hear regular music and even change it to her liking. She can add lyrics, switch lyrics to different songs, switch beats as well as even add and control different instruments. He can even speed it up or slow it down.

She can make it stop but only if he manages to calm down and focus. Or if that doesn't work she'll use her headset.

Why the headset?

Sometimes the noise becomes too much for him so the headphones are just noise cancellers. But they can also be used to drown out other noise so his spidey senses are the only thing she can hear/focus on.

#spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spider man across the spider verse #atsv #spidersona #spiderman oc #Spotify #spiderman #oc #oc art #my oc #my art #black artist #my asks are open

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born-to-riot · 5 months ago

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Rancor and Risotto: La Salade

In celebration of @erisweekofficial 's Eris Week 2024: Free Day, I humbly offer the next chapter of Rancor and Risotto.

“Well yeah, if I could fly, I’d be able to do that too, you motherfucking cheater,” he hears Dillon’s characteristic whine carry over the sounds of clashing swords and the general camaraderie of Autumn Court soldiers.

“I assure you, the last person I’d want to fuck is your mother,” he hears Azriel bite back immediately, earning a chorus of laughter from every being within hearing distance. Well, that’s always good to hear, Eris thinks to himself.

Tag List:

Tag List: @acourtofladydeath @ofduskanddreams @secret-third-thing @areyoudreaminof @iftheshoef1tz @chunkypossum @queercontrarian @yourlazykitkat @krem-has-a-mess @witch-and-her-witcher @neciebee @shadowsandlint @yanny-77 @jules-writes-stories @mistandmemories @fieldofdaisiies @amarillis39 @the-darkestminds @futurehunt @brunetterebel010 @talibunny30 @hnyclover @amalhe-kofee @c-starstuff-man0 @fourteentrout

Please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of here!

Thank y'all so much!

#acotar #azris #eris vanserra #acowar #acomaf #azriel #rancor and risotto #angst #azris angst #azriel shadowsinger #azris supremacy #erisweek2024 #eris week free day #eris fanfic #Eris Vanserra fanfic #Azriel x eris #Lucien vanserra #rhys acotar #acotar fanfic

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stevetwisp · 6 months ago

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What's your all-time favorite Bob's Burgers episode? Like this is YOUR episode? (You can list multiple if you want!)

ooo yes i will need multiple, i have like lil categories for my favs episodes;

like nostalgic, and just genuinely good, and then episodes i find really silly/have my favourite characters

'The Belchies', 'Bob Day Afternoon', 'Bob Fires the Kids' and, 'Sexy Dance Healing' are all episodes I can't decide which i saw first, as in my first episode of Bob's Burgers overall, they all feel a very special and kind of nostalgic and honestly? besides Sexy Dance Healing, they are all really classic episodes that kind of hold the edginess of season 1, but in a good way, and also just have really good well put together stories- as well as introducing/building on side-characters that will become staples to the series (not including Beverly and Cooper, mostly talking about Mickey and the kids' friend group)

Sexy Dance Healing is just a cool episode in the sense they bring attention to the chalk board and Bob's routine with it and him breaking that routine and how the family reacts to it? it's just a wonderful character/world building episode especially if you have been watching the show for a bit before seeing it

'Manic Pixie Crap Show' and 'Silence of the Louise' go up in my top favs bc 1) i LOVE MILLIE and 2) i love the movie silence of the lambs, but also I love louise's crisis about 'being a girl' in Manic Pixie Crap Show

'Amelia', 'The Amazing Rudy', 'Radio No You Didn't', 'Show Mama From The Grave' are all episodes that sort of break formula to tell a better story, Amelia is just... oof. The Amazing Rudy? to escape the Belchers and have a whole episode just on Rudy- and not just Rudy but to focus on his face the whole episode to be inside his head without any inner monologue or narration- it's powerful stuff. Radio No You Didn't is just straight up a cool episode- and I love the running gag of never really showing Bob's mom? Lily is finally in an episode and.... she's a baby the whole time. It's kind of genius? oh also his grandma fighting nazis is cool too. HAHA and to follow that up- I really didn't think they would actually show Lily's grave in 'Show Mama From The Grave' (ironically), I was expecting them never to find it and I want to believe there's a draft of the episode where they never reach her and it's just about how that's okay because Bob thinks of her all the time. But Linda being the one who found her? Bro I was sobbing, loudly, WILDLY.

'Vampire Disco Death Dance', 'Earsy Rider', 'V for Valentine-detta' are episodes that are silly but I feel very strongly about them- Earsy Rider is also one of the first episodes I ever saw, and I think it's so neat they did an episode so early on that addresses- but doesn't unpack- Louise's bunny ears. Also the introduction of some of my favourite background characters, the One Eyed Snakes and Critter (love his name. love that man.) and his partner Mud Flap. ("Aw my mother's name is Mud Flap!" "...Really?" "No, you are named after the dirty part of a car.")

and c'mon, who doesn't love V for Valentine-detta???? We get sweet sweet adorable family time with Linda and Tina and Louise- NAT?? THE INTRODUCTION OF NAT!!!! best character in the series, and probably the gayest Tina will ever be (next to her and Sage... Next to her and Dillon... next to-)

but my ultimate favourite episode of Bob's Burgers will always be, 'Thanks-Hoarding'. I love Teddy. Yes it hits home, yes I relate to him, YES the episode makes me cry, YES I THINK ABOUT IT ALL THE TIME

YES I DID MAKE A YOUTUBE VIDEO ESSAY ABOUT IT LIKE 5 YEARS AGO!!!

YES I LOVE THAT EPISODE STILL (tears shirt off)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

anyway thank you for the question c:

honourable mentions: any episode with Gretchen. 👍

#steve talks #bobs burgers

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psithurista · 2 years ago

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approach shift pt. nine

pairing: Peter Parker x f!reader (TASM/Andrew Garfield version) length: 4.3k rating: explicit 18+ warnings: Mentions of death, fingering, a quick wristy (lol)

Peter Parker is a weirdo. A hot, distracting, irritating weirdo. And you can’t afford distractions right now. So there’s only one thing to do.

a/n: Last full chapter but there will be an epilogue in the not-too-distant; I'll probably have more notes then. Thank you x

series masterlist

The back of your head is torturously itchy.

You try surreptitiously to press your knuckles to the spot, just to relieve the worst of it. The nurse sitting closest to you glances up at you from over the top of her monitor and guiltily, you clasp your hands back down into your lap.

It smells sour in here, like soft plums left to rot. Whichever industrial cleaner it is this hospital uses, it’s definitely not one anybody’s trying to market for domestic use. It’s probably cheap as fuck, you contemplate, your hand drifting back up towards your head.

“You can go in now,” a new nurse says beside you. You jerk your hand away. “He’s awake. I let him know you’ve been waiting.”

“Oh, thank you,” you say, unpeeling yourself from the plastic waiting room chair. “I won’t be very long. I just wanted to say hi.”

She gives you a mild, distracted okay-that’s-nice-whatever smile and disappears. You push open the door to the room she’d just exited and duck inside.

It smells far better in here. There’s a vase of opening lilies leaving red pollen-stains on the table in front of the window, and the lavender-powder smell of clean sheets. Doctor Brant is propped up in the bed, frowning hard at the tablet in his hands.

“I hope you aren’t working while you’re meant to be resting,” you say.

He tilts his head down to peer at you over his glasses. “Oh, no. It’s just sudoku. It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Doctor. How are you?”

He nods, and sets the tablet aside. “Well, they’ve finally taken me off the oxygen so I expect I’ll be allowed to leave soon. All things considered, a little smoke inhalation injury at my…advanced age could’ve been far worse.” His eyes glint a little bit. “Were you injured?”

You shake your head. “A concussion, but I’m fine. The. He. Um. You know. He got me out, before he went back for you.”

“You shouldn’t have stayed to look for me.”

You sit gingerly on the very edge of the chair next to the bed. “I thought. I didn’t think he’d made it to you in time. I thought you were both.” Your voice starts to sound weird, so you stop talking.

He folds his hands together over his chest. “It’s strange. I remember the first time I saw him. I didn’t understand what was happening. I thought it must have been a stunt, or an advertisement for something. Silly, really. And yet he’s saved Oscorp from itself more times than it deserved. After Connors and Dillon and that whole terrible disaster with young Harry. It’s too much. There’s no reason for anybody to endanger themselves in that place ever again.” He takes his glasses off and sets them beside the bed. “Which is why I’ve resigned.”

You stare at him. “You. What?”

He smiles at you; the expression a little indulgent. “All those years of work, gone. And for nothing. I’m sure you’ve already heard what happened?”

You have. It’s been all over the news the entire week. First the speculation: was it an attack? Was it political? Was it another disgruntled ex-employee? A competitor? And then, later, the worse, more boring truth: regular old corporate negligence. An undertrained technician who’d tried to prematurely purge a vac test chamber with concentrated oxygen. An alarm system two years overdue for maintenance. And floor upon floor of laboratories filled with dangerous substances, improperly stored.  

Nobody else in your department was seriously hurt. But others weren’t so lucky.

“When I started with Norm, it was all about changing the world for the better. And in the end, we’ve helped nobody.” He shakes his head. “If you’ll forgive my language…Fuck Oscorp. I’m ready to start over.”

You grin at him, even though it feels a little watery. “I’m…really happy for you.” And you are. In the brief time you’ve worked under him, his passion has been obvious, but he’s always seemed so bogged down by the minutiae of red tape; appeasing a board of investors with no interest in the importance of his life’s work beyond its potential profitability.

But it also makes your already-uncertain future with the company even foggier. You’ll need to find someone else willing to offer you a similar graduate position, and you already know you won’t find anything else quite as specialised as the work he’s been doing.

He takes a sip from the glass of water beside his bed, then sits back with a sigh. “Publicly-funded research is a far less glamorous world than that of private enterprise. We’ll be relying primarily on grant funding and academic support. There won’t be any glass fountains or vertical gardens, I’m afraid.”

You nod sympathetically. “I can imagine. It’ll be a big change.” His eyebrows draw together at you. “I would understand if your answer is no.”

You blink. “My answer?” you say, like a genius.

“If so, I would, of course, write you a glowing recommendation. And I have plenty of contacts I could put you in touch with, if you’d prefer that.”

Holy shit. Is he…? “Hold on. Are you offering me a position with you?”

“Well, yes.”

He grunts as you dart in and hug him. “Oh! Yes! I mean, of course! I would love to. Thank you so much. You won’t regret this.”

“Uh.”

You lean back as he smooths his blankets down. “Sorry,” you say, a little sheepish. “That was unprofessional.”

He tries to look stern, but it’s unconvincing. “Well, yes,” he says again. “But I’ll choose to ignore it just this once.”

You stop by to see Bear on your way home. The roller doors in the alley beside the grimy little theatre are propped open so you can see all the half-painted set pieces inside, and there’s a bunch of people dressed all in black gathered around smoking.

“Are you gonna be home tonight?” you ask, watching her inhale the deli sandwich you’d brought after correctly guessing she hadn’t stopped rehearsing long enough for lunch.

“I can be if you want,” she says, her mouth full of half-chewed food. “But I was kind of planning on staying at a friend’s.”

You press your knuckles absently against the back of your head and leer at her. “Would this friend happen to be the same person who wanted you to move in after one salad date?”

“If you don’t stop scratching your stitches I’m calling the hospital and narcing to your doctor. And yes.”

You make a face. “I’m not even touching them!”

She stuffs the rest of the sandwich in her mouth and wipes her hands on her jeans. “I’m seriously cool not to go, though. It’s totally fine.”

She’s barely left you alone since you got back from the emergency room, even setting alarms and checking up on you throughout the first couple of nights. You know for a fact she’s had to cancel other plans for you—again. You shake your head. “No, go. I kind of want some alone time anyway.”

It’s another cold, bright afternoon. You walk into the feet of your shadow and spread your fingers beside your body as your arms move, watching them elongating out on the pavement in front of you, lost in thought. You’ve been lost in thought a lot, lately.

You’re just past the end of your block when you catch sight of the figure sitting on the stairs outside your building. Long legs in faded jeans are stretched out and crossed over at the ankles, and there’s duct tape around the toe of one sneaker. You slow to a halt on the sidewalk. A woman behind you huffs with irritation, veering around you, a giant paper grocery bag clutched in her arms.

He looks up from his cracked phone screen as you draw level with your door. His hair is as chaotic as ever, stuck up in every direction, except for at the nape of his neck, where it curls gently around in little flicks. He looks tired. He’s always looked tired, the whole time you’ve known him, but you notice it differently now. Like the holes in his jeans, and the bruise on his jaw, and the angry-sore-looking blisters on his knuckles.

He smiles a little, jerking you out of your silent staring. “Hi. Sorry. I didn’t wanna just show up unannounced. I’ve been trying to call, but,” he holds his phone up, and you shake your head.

“My phone was—”

“Yeah, I figured.”

The wind lifts the edge of your scarf and shivers under the neck of your coat. There’s something sweet in the air; like cinnamon sugar, maybe someone baking from one of the open windows overhead. “Do you want to come inside?”

His expression is soft as he considers you, looking up through his lashes. “Okay.”

Neither of you speak on the trip upstairs. Your hand accidentally brushes his as you reach out for the elevator buttons, and you both pull away, as awkward and over-polite as strangers.

He stands a respectful distance back as you open your door, and you lead him inside, waving your hand vaguely toward the sofa. “Do you want a drink?”

He folds himself into the seat nearest the window, hunching over and shoving his hands between his knees. A cold drift of sun touches his jaw. “Um, no thanks, it’s cool.”

You sit down beside him, folding your hands across your lap like you’re about to get a class picture taken.

He chews his lip, runs his thumbs over his burned hands. Outside, a car horn beeps. “It’s not because I didn’t trust you,” he starts. “If you’re wondering. I don’t want you thinking that’s the reason.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “You don’t need to explain.”

“I just want you to know—”

“I know.” You try to smile at him, and it feels a little watery. “I get it. I know why you couldn’t tell me.”

His brows bend together just enough to mark out a pained line. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Really. Don’t be.”

It falls silent in your living room. The little clay pinch pot in the centre of the coffee table Bear had brought home from the artists’ market watches you both watching one another; soft-skinned and tender as nervous newborn things.

“You might die doing this,” you finally point out. “One day. All those times you’ve been hurt. You might…not come home.”

He nods at the floor. “Which is why I couldn’t really ask you to, you know. Waste your time with—” he waves his hands vaguely back and forth between your bodies. “It’s not worth it. And, like, trust me, I would never, ever want to drag you into any of the shit I’m involved with. I didn’t mean to fuck you around so long, knowing you wouldn’t...” He looks back at you, his dark eyes soft. “It was just. The happiest I’ve been in a really long time. I couldn’t stop myself. I’m sorry. It was shitty of me. Selfish.”

You stare at him for a few seconds in stunned disbelief. Then you laugh. You don’t mean to, and his head jerks back, startled. “Are you serious?” you manage.

His eyes are huge. “Uh. Yeah?”

You laugh again. It sounds a little manic. “You’re unbelievable.”

He flushes. “Could you maybe quit laughing at me when I’m trying to—”

“Peter. You saved my fucking life. Twice. Even after I was a total asshole to you. You saved me.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “Yeah, look, I don’t want you to feel weird about that. Like, it’s totally, one-hundred-percent not a big deal and I never want anybody to feel like—”

“You help people. Strangers. Every day. For nothing. And they aren’t even grateful. The things people write about you.” He hasn’t moved, and you realise you’re talking louder than you need to, considering he’s right in front of you. “You’re the least selfish person I’ve ever met,” you tell him, emphatic, needing him to get it. “You’re a good person, Peter. I’m so sorry I didn’t see that before.” Your voice breaks a little and it’s embarrassing, but not as embarrassing as the fact that your vision has gone blurry and your cheeks feel suddenly too hot.

You stop and breathe for a few moments, willing yourself not to cry. He doesn’t say anything, just studies the edge of the rug as though he’s pretending not to notice, and you’re grateful.

Then, quietly, he takes a breath. “I was going to tell you. Before the fire. I saw May, and she told me she saw you, and that you’d talked, and. I wanted to explain everything.”

You remember the way May had looked that day in the park; her small, sad mouth, and the way she’d spoken slowly like she was choosing each word carefully. “Does she know?”

Peter half-shrugs. “We’ve never talked about it. But, like, I know she knows. And she knows I know she does.” He gives you a little smile. “It’s easier if we both keep pretending we don’t, though.”

“Does anyone else?”

His smile turns tight. “I guess not. Not really.”

“So you’ve been doing this all on your own? The whole time? How?”

He runs his hand back through his hair. “Yeah. Well, I guess I’m pretty good with DIY now, you know? I wasn’t always. I had to learn. Shit went wrong a lot in the beginning. Shit still goes wrong a lot.”

You lean in a little, curling into the cushions. “What’s the hardest part?”

You’re expecting him to say the fear of discovery, or the isolation, or the sheer physical exhaustion. But he wrinkles his nose. “God. The sewing. It’s so hard. And it’s constant. I swear I pop a different seam every day.” His face goes blank for a moment and he looks at you as though a brand new thought has just occurred to him for the first time. “It’s actually really nice. Getting to talk about this.”

“Am I allowed to ask about the outfit?”

He slaps his hands over his face. “You are absolutely fucking not allowed to ask about the outfit.”

Your mouth drops open in outrage. “I wasn’t gonna laugh! I just want to know why—”

“Look, I was going for, like, a velodrome thing. Like for speed and better flexibility and less wind-resistance and then like, anonymity as well, obviously, and originally—”

“What about the, uh, pattern?”

“Yeah, okay, okay, it seemed cool at the time! I was fifteen!”

The thought of Peter as a child, alone, in danger, no doubt even ganglier and nerdier than he is now, sends a fresh pang of sadness through you. You try not to let it show. “Do you eat the webs?”

He stares like you’ve just asked if he’d like to swap heads with you. “What?”

“Certain types of spiders go back and eat their webs after they’re done with them. Like, to replenish the protein they expended making them. Do you ever eat yours?”

The expression on his face is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. “Uh, no. It’s inorganic. Like, it’s a, like essentially a nylon polymer composite. It’s not edible. I mean, I’ve never tried, but it’s designed to dissolve after a few hours, so I guess if you did really want to eat it, it wouldn’t hurt you…” He trails off, sheepish, looking at you sideways. “You’re fucking with me.”

“Yeah,” you say, unable to stifle your smile any longer.

He grins and ducks his head. He hasn’t shaved today, you note; there’s a little bit of stubble along his jawline.

Your chest hurts. Seeing him, being close to him, just like before. It pulls open the ache of missing him, turning it from a bruise into a wound. You know you shouldn’t. You tell yourself not to. But you do it anyway.

“I miss you.” Your voice is barely louder than a whisper.

He looks so fucking sad. His eyes are huge and pained and so close, and then they dart down to your lips, and you see it; the precise split-second the urge hits him, then the one after as he fights it, and your heart sinks and you’re about to lean back but then his mouth is on yours and it’s soft and it’s warm and unbearably gentle as his hands sweep up to the base of your neck.  It’s not the best kiss you’ve ever had.

You’re twisted uncomfortably to face him. Your hands lay shocked in your lap, and you’re pretty sure he can hear you attempting not to sniffle too much with your breathing, and you’re so busy worrying about it that you forget to open up to him; his tongue touching the edge of your lips. His fingertips brush the stitches at the back of your head and you flinch, pulling away.  “Oh, shit, sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, visibly mortified.   “It’s okay,” you say. “Didn’t hurt. It’s just sensitive.”

“For kissing you,” he clarifies. “I know we’re not, like…you know. Anymore.”

That hurts. You shake your head. “We could be. We could try.”

“I can’t ask you—"

“No. Don’t do that. What do you want?”

He exhales through his nose and a tiny, pained sound escapes with it. “It’s not that easy—“

“It is. It is that easy. What do you want?”

“You have no idea,” he says, suddenly. “God. You have no fucking idea how bad I want you. I want this. You’re the only thing I. Fuck.” He knuckles at his eyes, frustrated. “You just have no idea how bad this could go.”

“I do,” you tell him, gently. “I know exactly how bad it could go. And I’m sorry, Peter. I’m so sorry that happened. It’s so, so fucked up that that happened and I’m so sorry, and I know nothing I can say will ever make any of it any less fucked up, but fucked up things happen. They happen all the time for normal people, too. And fucked up things are going to keep happening and it’s inevitable and it’s part of being alive and that’s why we just need to take that risk every day, and choose to—to try to just be happy in as many stupid fucking hopeless ways as we can anyway, because we deserve to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”

He’s staring at you like he wants to believe you. Like he wants to cry. “You need to know,” he says, reaching his hand out, pulling it back. “I can’t promise you this’ll be okay. If you still wanted…I would try. I would try so, so hard for you. Harder than I’ve ever tried at anything. But I—I still just have no way of knowing that it’ll be okay.“

You smile at him, shaky and sure. “That’s any relationship, Parker.”

This time when he kisses you, you’re ready. Your mouth opens eagerly under his, catching the faint metal-salt of his skin, the dryness where his lips are ever-so-slightly windburnt.

All the breath leaves your body in a rush. You shove your hands up through his hair, lifting up onto your knees and sliding across his lap until you’re straddling him on the couch.

He tilts his head back to work his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands sliding up underneath your shirt to find the edges of your bra, and it’s awkward and clumsy and you’re both breathing hard by the time he manages to get your jeans unzipped and his hand cramped into your underwear.

“Holy shit,” you gasp, half-dizzy from kissing without pause. You almost bite him when his fingers find your clit. “Can you—yeah, like that, oh, my God—"

“Hold on, it’d be better if, let me…” he murmurs, frustrated, and you let out what could only be described as a yelp as he lifts your entire weight up to easily shove your jeans and underwear the rest of the way off your legs before settling you back down over his lap.

You’re stuck between trying to grind down against the front of his jeans and trying to give him enough space to work his hand back between your legs, ultimately deciding on the latter as he finds your clit again, this time his attentions unhampered by clothing.

His body hasn’t forgotten yours. It only takes a few moments of searching before he has you melting into the palm of his hand; your bones soft and hot inside you as you roll your eyes closed. It’s easy with him, just like before, but better.

You’re almost close when he eases two fingers inside you, and that’s easy too, so easy, the way you give for him. Your forehead rests against his as your lips come apart; too focused for kissing anymore.

“I missed you,” he breathes, working his wrist. “God, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You flex your thighs as you rock with the movement of his hand, and that’s when you need to touch him, urgently. It takes a little repositioning before you manage to open his jeans and ease his cock out, wrapping your fingers loosely around him.

You feel him tense and shudder as you stroke him, too slow to really get him anywhere, too lost in the way his long, firm fingers curl inside you.

He noses along your jaw, mouthing lazily at your damp skin, his eyes closed, and then he’s there, right where you need him, and you’re clenching and biting down on the sounds trying to escape as you come apart sudden and hard around him.

You’re still loose-limbed and shaky when he pulls his slick fingers free, gently moving your hand out of the way to grasp himself instead. You feel a little guilty; you’d almost forgotten about him straining in front of you, but he doesn’t seem to care as he jerks himself quick and short in his fist. His other hand cups the swell of your ass as he huffs hot breath into your hair, your neck, coming sudden across the inside of your thigh.

You slump your weight against him.

Neither of you speak for a while. Your hand is curled between your bodies, trapped where it’s warm and you can feel his heart slowing in his chest. He runs his hand absently from your hip to your thigh, then back again.

“Peter,” you murmur.

“Mmm.”

“You do need to promise me one thing, though.”

He moves, just enough that he can look up at you. His cheeks are flushed. “What?”

“We can never. And I mean never. Tell Bear we fucked on her couch.”

His eyes widen in horror. “Oh, my God. She already hates me.”

“I know. But it’s okay, because we’re not gonna tell her.”

“I just don’t know if I can keep that secret; I’m not good at subterfuge, y’know, I’m just not that kinda guy—"

“Yeah, yeah, okay—"

“—and you should see me under pressure; I fold like origami—"

You kiss him again, just to shut him up, and feel his lips curling up against yours.

Your thighs feel sticky and gross, and you’re starting to get cold, and when you get up you nearly fall over from the cramp in your leg from sitting so awkwardly, but you’re too happy to care in the slightest.

You stand together in the bathroom, cleaning each other up. Every time his eyes meet yours in the mirror you both smile again, giggling and getting in each other’s way, like idiots.

It takes twice as long as it should to get back out to the couch, and you’re hoping he’ll curl up with you again but then you catch him glancing toward the window. “You need to go,” you say. It’s not really a question.

He hedges. “I kind of do, but…”

You offer him a little smile. “It’s okay. Go.”

He nods. You walk him to the door, where he pauses. He chews at his thumbnail, looking at you sideways again from under his eyelashes.

You watch him for a few seconds, waiting. “What?” you finally say.

He presses his lips together, runs his hand through his hair. “So. It’s probably, like, kind of weird. To ask. At this…uh, juncture.”

He’s nervous, you realise. It’s excruciatingly endearing. You nudge him. “I feel like weird’s kind of our thing.”

He grins. “Yeah. I guess. So. I was gonna ask if you’d like to go out. For dinner. Friday night.”

There’s absolutely no way to prevent the smile slowly pulling at your mouth. “Peter. Are you asking me on a date?”

He laughs, a little self-conscious huff. “Uh, yeah. Like. I mean, I wanted to way sooner. But. I guess I wanna try doing things properly this time. If you want.”

You can think of a thousand different things to say, but most of them are embarrassing, so you settle for keeping it simple. “Yes. Fuck yes. Obviously.”

He blinks. “Oh, okay, awesome, holy shit. Okay. Should we…? I don’t have your new number.”

“Oh, yeah, I need to get yours again too.” You pull your phone out and make a new contact before handing it to him.

He stares at your screen for a second, then he snorts. “You have me in your phone as ‘p.p.’?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Why? What do you have me as?”

He laughs again, quiet, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter.” He hands your phone back. He takes a few steps out the door, then he sticks his hands in his pockets. “So. I’ll see you?”

“You will,” you tell him, watching the way his jaw juts crookedly when he smiles.

He’s halfway to the elevator, walking backwards, his hands still in his pockets when he calls back to you. “Friday, Miss Jersey.”

You laugh. “Quit disturbing my neighbours.”

You stay there long after he’s gone, leaning against your doorframe, smiling to yourself, aching with stupid, giddy affection.

#peter parker x f!reader #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x f!reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #tasm fanfic #tasm fanfiction #tasm imagine #peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter fanfiction

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coimbrabertone · 3 months ago

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Hear Me Out...It's Not Logano's Fault

I'm going to preface this by saying I'm not a Joey Logano fan at all. I think the Shell/Pennzoil scheme is decent, but the two different shades of yellow are annoying, I wish Pennzoil would let them put the logo across the rear fender, and in my opinion, it looks worse with the next gen rims than most schemes.

As for Joey himself, well...I kinda find myself agreeing with the whole "two-faced" comments. He's this smiling, kinda awkward suburban dad type guy out of the car, but then in the car he's super hotheaded and aggressive. It doesn't line up. That doesn't inherently mean it's an act, just that racing brings out a different side of him.

All that being said...I don't really think he's to blame for the 2024 NASCAR championship.

So, for context: yesterday was the final round of the NASCAR playoffs. Sixteen drivers make the playoffs based on regular season performances: this year, fourteen won their way in, and another two (Ty Gibbs and Martin Truex Jr.) got in on points.

Three rounds of three races followed, whittling down the field from sixteen to twelve to eight and finally four.

This year, the final four were:

Tyler Reddick, driving the #45 for 23XI Racing - Tyler won the regular season championship, won at Talladega and Michigan in the regular season, and won Homestead in the Round of 8 to make the championship four at Phoenix.

William Byron, driving the #24 for Hendrick Motorsports - William won the Daytona 500, Circuit of the Americas, and the spring Martinsville race. In the Round of 8, he squeaked by into the finale thanks to the help of Ross Chastain and Austin Dillon, whilst Christopher Bell was penalized for a wall ride. You can read more on that in last week's blogpost.

Ryan Blaney, driving the #12 for Team Penske - Ryan was the 2023 champion, and this year, he won at Iowa and Pocono to make the playoffs, and then won Martinsville in the Round of 8 to make the championship four.

Joey Logano, driving the #22 for Team Penske - Joey had the most circuitous route to the playoffs. He won at Nashville off the back of five overtimes and Hail Mary fuel save, won the first playoff race at Atlanta to advance to the Round of 12, got eliminated in that round at the Charlotte Roval by Alex Bowman, and then got reinstated in the playoffs when Alex Bowman was disqualified. Joey then, back in the Round of 8, won the first race of the round at Las Vegas to lock himself in the championship four.

So, one win in the regular season, a plate race, advancing through someone else's disqualification, and then even at Las Vegas - Joey's most legitimate won of the season so far - Bell was clearly the fastest car that day, but Logano got out ahead through strategy and managed to hold him off for the win.

Naturally, people started taking notice of this.

Already, they started saying that if Logano won - who was 15th in points at this point - would be an undeserving champion.

Some went so far as to claim it would be the final nail in the coffin for the playoff system.

So of course...Penske shows up to Phoenix and dominates. Joey Logano gets out into first, holds off Ryan Blaney, and Penske finishes 1-2 in the championship.

Joey Logano wins the 2024 championship with an average finish of 17.11 and based on a full season points format like the Winston Cup was, he'd still only be eleventh, despite the three wins late in the year.

Some have deemed it the worst championship performance of all time.

However...

What did you want Joey Logano to do? Not win the championship?

I don't like the guy, but like...he's a racing driver, of course he's going to do whatever he can to win the championship. He hasn't been particularly good or consistent through the season, but this format has kept him in play, so of course he's going to try and win his way to Phoenix and take a third championship.

Joey Logano doesn't care if you think his titles are illegitimate. He still gets his name up there with the likes of Petty, Earnhardt Gordon, and all the other multi-time NASCAR champions.

If a driver can win, they're gonna try to win.

The problem is the playoff format. Logano was fifteenth in points with one win but because the playoffs start with 16 teams, he was allowed to fight for the championship. Then, the win and advance format let him lock himself in right away with Atlanta. The Round of 12 was weak for him, but Bowman got disqualified and Logano was next in line in the points, so of course he was going to advance.

He went from out of the playoffs to back within a chance of winning the title overnight. So...he wins at Las Vegas, locks himself into the championship four, and gets to use Homestead and Martinsville to prepare for Phoenix.

And that preparation shows, because Blaney and Logano were far and away the fastest cars in Phoenix.

Logano got ahead with a pass early in the final stint, Blaney was faster and tried to pass him back almost immediately, but Logano was able to hold him off. Aero blocking, forcing Blaney to use the useless upper lane in the corners, and focusing on maximizing his exit onto the brief straightaways.

In short, Logano and Team Penske have figured out how to min-max the NASCAR playoffs.

Logano effectively won the championship with the fewest wins possible.

Once in the regular season, twice to move on in the playoff rounds, and then at Phoenix to win the championship.

I suppose that technically speaking, the fewest number of wins would be one. Win in the regular season to get into the playoffs regardless of whether or not you're consistent, manage to advance each round by points, and then have a non-playoff car win at Phoenix so you can win the championship without having to win in the championship race.

So perhaps Logano's season isn't the bare minimum the format requires, but it's pretty damn close.

Which again, not the driver's fault. They're going to try and win the championship for as long as they can. Logano had a shitty season, but the playoffs kept him in it all the way, and he was able to do enough to win it.

The fact that's enough to win it is the format's fault.

Let's go back to 2003 for a moment. NASCAR says that the playoff format was in the works for a few years before the 2003 season, but 2003 was widely seen as the reason why the chase format was ultimately adopted.

Matt Kenseth in the Roush #17 won in the third round of the season at Las Vegas and then consistent results kept him in the lead.

Meanwhile, Ryan Newman in the Penske #12 won at Texas, Dover, Chicagoland, Pocono, Michigan, Richmond, Dover again, and Kansas.

People didn't like the fact that a driver winning one race won the title while another driver took eight wins.

Two problems with that.

One: It's not like Ryan Newman was like second or anything, he was sixth. He didn't lose the championship because wins weren't worth enough in the Winston Cup points format, he lost the championship because he was checkers or wreckers all year long. Ryan took his first win of the season at Texas, but after that, he was 39th at Talladega, 38th in Martinsville, 42nd at Fontana, and 39th in Richmond. One win, followed by four races where he barely scored any points at all. That is why he lost.

Two: This year, Kyle Larson was the winningest driver, winning at Las Vegas, Kansas, Sonoma, Indianapolis, Bristol, and the Charlotte Roval. So if the format is supposed to favor winning, it didn't exactly do that, given that the championship four consistent of four guys who each had three wins, with Logano taking a fourth at Phoenix to win the whole thing.

So, this format doesn't favor winning the most, nor does it favor consistency. Instead, it favors winning at specific times.

Technically speaking, someone could win all twenty-six regular season races and then lose the championship off the back of a poor playoff run. Would that ever actually happen? No, it's not realistic, but it does show the flaws of this format.

And if you want more realistic proof that the regular season doesn't matter in this format, then just look back to 2015. Kyle Busch broke his leg, missed eleven races, and then used the playoff system to win the championship.

This is what NASCAR is now.

Logano in 2024 is just the latest example of that.

Don't hate the player, hate the game.

Well...I suppose you can hate the player too, just understand that the game is the real problem here.

#motorsports #racing #nascar cup #nascar #nascar playoffs #joey logano #team penske

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jrstales · 9 days ago

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·Crooked compass - part 3 - getting to our hotel room

------Liam's POV---

The cab rolled to a stop outside our hotel as Dillon handed the driver a few notes, shaking his head when he started to get change. Tom leant close to me whispering in my ear, 'I'm going to make you pay for that.' I just smiled, opened the door stepping out to the street, calling 'Thanks for the lift mate' into the car.

As soon as we were out they were on us. The flashing cameras of the paparazzi were blinding as I pushed through the crowd of photographers and reporters. I was glad an advance team had brought all our luggage earlier, fighting past them with it would have been hard.

“But where the fuck is security?”

I kept my head down, moving past them quickly, elbows up as I forced my way through them. They left me when I got to the lobby, but when I turned I could see them crowding Tom. He was struggling to get past them, reporters grabbing him, shoving cameras in his, getting in his way. I could see the panic written all over him as his eyes darted side to side for an escape.

I marched back, grabbing Tom's arm and pulling him through, giving them the finger.

'Keep your grubby mitts to yourself.' I yelled at them.

Dillon had just go out of his side of the car, and seeing the commotion moved to flank Tom’s other side, the reporters started to back off, none quite brave enough to get in front of him. We reached the lobby of the hotel, the heavy doors swinging shut and closing the reporters off from us as we stood in the quiet oversized area. We started to catch our breath, before the silence was broken.

Amanda our manager was there to see us. 'Hi guys great to see-' She spoke in a nasal tone that grated no matter what she had to say. It was like a knife in my ear. Normally I tried to be polite, but now I was angry.

'Fuck sake Amanda, did you not see the crowd of paps there, think maybe to get them cleared for us? Or let me guess, you thought us fighting through would be a good picture for the front page.' Being pictured and grabbed by strangers was overwhelming at time for most, I knew Tom hated it particularly.

'Well yes,” She smiled, “but guys the photos will look great -'

'If you pull that shit again, we're done Amanda, got it?'

She smiled sweetly nodding, but her eyes looked furious, as she just nodded her head curtly. She handed each of us a key card.

'Well then, goodnight. We need to leave at five tomorrow for the show, until then your days free.'

I turned, striding over to the lift, pressing the button angrily, Dillon and Tom beside me. As soon as the door closed I started swearing.

'Fuck, I hate that bitch. Fuck.' Kicking the lift door.

Dillon nodded beside. I could tell the subtle signs of his anger, the tense neck, the gripped fist, the overly controlled breathing.

'Yeah,' he said calmly, 'Just remember she doesn't work for us, she works for the studio.'

Tom had grabbed my wrist tightly, not saying much, his face still looking a little unsure, overwhelmed.

'Yeah, but if we complain it's got to stand for something right?' I insisted.

'Maybe, maybe not. I don't know, I haven't done this before.” Dillon shrugged.

The door opened and we stepped into the hallway, checking our room numbers. Dillon was at the other side of the hall to us. 'Well, I’m off to bed, don't go too wild you two.'

'No promises.' I muttered angrily.

Dillon opened his door leaving only Tom and me in the hallway. We walked down the hallway, our hands brushing lightly, as I rubbed my finger along his knuckle. I checked quickly behind me, before opening my door and pulling Tom in, closing us off from the world.

I took his hand in mine. “You okay?” I asked, holding him softly.

Tom nodded, “Yeah, you’d think I’d be used to it by now.” He gave a laugh, but it sounded utterly hollow.

I hugged him slowly, letting him get used to me. “You don’t have to be.”

“Yes, yeah I kinda do if I want to keep doing this.” He grinned, “But I’m okay now, thank you.”

“Seriously-“I started to insist.

“Seriously, I didn’t come in here to just talk to you.” His mouth pressed to mine as he pushed me towards the bed, pushing me down on top of it. He pulled his jeans off before he climbed on top, straddling me.

“Okay, but –“

Tom grabbed my hand, pulling it to the front of his boxers, letting me feel the wet spot at the front.

“I still owe you for this.” He started grinding on my hard dick through my jeans.

“Well,” I moaned softly, “I guess fairs fair.”

I started to take off my top, while Tom reached for my jeans, unbuttoning them, yanking them down. He leant forward on top of me, kissing me while he slipped his boxers off, letting them drop on the ground, before he sat back up, teasing my dick with his ass cheeks.

I reached up, and started to take off his top but he stopped me. “No, I have to go mess up my room after this.” As he shook his head.

“Then you can put it back on. Come on, you know I want to see all of you.”

Tom smiled for a second, his face looking too fucking cute framed by his golden curls, before he relented, showing off his slim body.

“Fuck you’re beautiful. And I love it when you’re on top.”

He started to sink back onto me, as I felt my dick press against him, entering him, as he gave a quick gasp.

He started to ride me, rolling his hips and sending shivers through my dick. “Really,” he grinned, “cause I can feel that urge to be on top coming.”

“Fuck yeah babe – now?” I asked, getting ready to turn over.

He shook his head, “No, Not tonight, soon though. Right now, I want you to make a sticky mess inside me.”

“That sounds fucking perfect.”

He began to speed up, the bed shaking with his fast grinding. I dug my fingers into his hips, enjoying him taking me.

We kept like this for the sweating and grunting until it was all too much.

“Fuck babe.” I groaned.

“You’re cumming, that’s it, cum in me.” Tom moaned, starting to stroke his own hard dick that had been slapping against my stomach.

A few seconds later I did as commanded, my dick pulsing my load into him as I moaned.

“That you babe?” Tom asked, jerking himself quickly.

I nodded, as he smiled, before his dick started to dribble his load onto my stomach.

He lay down and kissed me, curling next to me. “Maybe we can mess up my room tomorrow morning?”

------------------------------_---------

Hi all, thank you so much for reading. I will always continue to post here, however if you want up to date content, some exclusive works, or even just to support me please consider checking out my Patreon below. Also please consider leaving a comment, I love to hear from you all!! Have a great day!!

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#gay #gay smut #male x male #straight to gay #gaysmut #experimentation #bottom male reader #gay story

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unproduciblesmackdown · 2 years ago

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"Iskander is an extraordinary director who can move from a choreographed mob scene to a heart breaking moment of intimacy with ease and grace. He has created a place where each actor blossoms in each role – from the most ambitious, that of Jesus (Colin Waitt) to the rarely seen but always felt Lucifer (Asia Kate Dillon) to the Angel Chorus. Each actor understands how the pieces fit together. The execution is nothing short of astonishing.

The writing in the first two acts is crisp, to the point and out of the box. In Falling For You Lucifer and Gabriel (Alice Allemano) bicker over God’s favor, Lucifer arguing for the advantage of thought and Gabriel arguing for total submission. Guess who wins? Lucifer’s last words to God? I’m falling for you. […] Lucifer, who pines for Jesus themself, prophesizes that nothing Christ says will be recorded verbatim in his own tongue."

#maybe there's a Ten [Link]s Per Post limit b/c twice i've failed to add this edit to the other writeup akd lucifer quotes post #or anyways; tumblr just says Error Processing Your Post. help section doesn't even have a Links link so i'm just guessing #to be sure it was getting unwieldy anyways. and this can get its own post b/c uh?#lucifer/jesus most direct confirmation everyone....5k oneshot #Unsurprising at this point w/plenty of other info; and yet still [!!] to get this much helpful info #let's take it back to the tempting & the collapsing in vulnerability; you can't know how much i wanted to put part of me between those lips #brimming with fire and unimaginable sadness....#the mysteries #lucifer the mysteries #lucifer mysteries #asia kate dillon #i was already thinking about lucifer/jesus & achilles/iphigenia parallels/juxtaposition thank you. now i am....continuing to do that

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listofwhyyouloveher · 3 months ago

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Hi lovely!👋🏻could I do a request for bob x fem reader where, reader is so needy for him but he doesn’t feel like fuxking so he fingers her instead? Thanks for your time you’re an amazing writer💐

Summary: Bob is too tired to take care of you, but he's still willing to offer you a hand. Warnings: smut. needle injections, mentions of drugs, fingering Author's Note: i want matt dillon SO BAD AUUUUGHH Bob Hughes is the type of man who gets his money's worth. If he's just snagged a basket of some new things to try, he's gonna try it right, by sitting back and relaxing. And today was going to be the exact same. He was sprawled out lazily over your shared bed, tying a tight loop around his arm to expose a vein. You had just brought out some food and water to eat when hungry and flopped down on the bed next him when he pulled the needle out of his skin, and you sighed angrily. Bob caught on but only spared you a glance, sitting there for a while before he turned to you. "Somethin' on your mind, doll?" He asked, a hint of bluntness etched into his voice. "Nuthin'," You responded, crossing your arms and turning away from him. His jaw clenched in annoyance. "Yes there is, spit it out." He turned to you, his brow furrowing. "Bob, why don't you ever give your girl some time?" You asked, pouting slightly. "What?" He asked, a little shocked. "You're so wrapped up in your damn drugs that you forget about me," You whispered. He sighed and wiped his hand over his face. "I'm sorry I didn't think about you this time. But I only got 'round 7 minutes for this to kick in, I can't do any for you in that time." He touched your shoulder lightly, a soft apologetic action. "You could fuck me," You said, trying to get your point across. Bob closed his eyes and thought about it. "How bout this instead," He said, reaching for your waist and pulling you in. His hand worked your legs open, dragging a finger over your core through your panties. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as he quickly pulled down your underwear and shifting to where he was over you, a hand holding up. "Didn't mean to forget you doll, just get caught up some times," He said apologeticly, peppering your jaw with kisses. His lips trailed down your neck to your collarbone, tenderly marking you. Slowly, his hand trailed to your core, pressing a finger into your soaked cunt. His moves were gentle, grazing that spot you loved lightly as you squirmed against him. His lips locked with yours for a heated kiss before he returned his attention to your pleasure, making your eyes roll back from the delicious friction. It wasn't long until you came around his fingers, breath heavy with lust. Bob licked his fingers clean and laid back next to you. "That good enough for you?" He asked and you nodded sheepishly. He laughed under his breath, before offering you a clean needle, and a vial of what ever he was about to just fall under the influence to. "Wanna join me?"

#shroomsroom #clara'sroom #bob hughes x you smut #bob hughes x you #bob hughes x reader #bob hughes x reader smut #drugstore cowboy x you #drugstore cowboy x reader

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ranger-ribbons · 10 months ago

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So, here’s the thing, I saw the cute flower prompts and was trying to pick a few, but you know me and I know you soooo… can I get the whole garden (all ‘em!) for my boyos! (Dillon/Ziggy) 💚

I do, yes. You do know me very, very well! Thanks, babe! <3 /plat

(Dillon is a big, tough, macho man until Ziggy's around, then he turns into a big softie)

Big thank you to Estel, who gave me the prompt for Magnolia.

Agapanthus - Love Letter

Dillon grunts a greeting to his teammates as he passes, looking for food. It's been a long day for him, and he's actually hungry, so he's gonna eat while he has the opportunity. It's hard sometimes when all he can do is taste the salt and sugar in a meal, but it's what he's gotta do while the cybernetics in his system are slowly taking over.

"Dillon!" Scott calls, making Series Operator Black look up, annoyed. "Ziggy left something for you on the table. He said you'd like it."

Dillon raises an eyebrow but heads for the table anyway. "Thanks," he says to the Red. Ziggy's been gone on a solo mission with Flynn for a few days now, something to do with power cores and mechanical parts Doctor K needs.

Dillon finds a bag of candy and a piece of the pie Summer had baked a few days ago. Summer had said it had all been eaten, but Dillon knew better than to think Ziggy didn't squirrel some away. Dillon smiles. The pie is actually pretty good breakfast food, and Dillon is glad to see it.

Next to the food is a letter. It's adorned with little black and green hearts. They're Ziggy's way of showing his love. Dillon opens the note.

Dillon,

I asked Scott to give you this if the mission ran longer than they thought it would. Turns out, getting these parts takes longer than it's supposed to, who knew? Anyway, I know you don't like big gestures of affection, but I also know you like Summer's baking. So here's my sign of affection for the day.

Love,

Ziggy

Dillon smiles, folds up the note, and puts it in his pocket. It's not your usual love letter, like the ones Summer talks about on those soap operas she won't admit to liking, but it's adorable, and Dillon loves it.

Basil - Hate

Dillon stares at the Green Ranger, the one who had once captured his heart. He stares at the half-dead corpse taking up space on the testing table. Dillon stares as Ziggy Grover screams and cries.

Ziggy sobs, pleading for Dillon to let him go, to come back to himself, to stop hurting him.

Dillon watches apathetically, staring with sharp eyes. He doesn't love this man, not anymore. Dillon doesn't love him, no. He hates Ziggy Grover.

In fact, he thinks he's never hated anyone more. That's why he tortures Ziggy Grover.

Cactus - Passionate Love

Ziggy gasps as Dillon slips his tongue between the Green's teeth. The whole kissing thing is still pretty new to Ziggy, and the Green knows Black wouldn't remember kissing anyone anyway, but still Dillon kisses like he's been doing it his whole life. Like Ziggy is the only thing in this world that matters to him.

"You okay, Zig?"

A little moan falls off Ziggy's lips as Dillon's mouth attaches itself to the younger man's neck. "Yeah," he breathes. "Ju-just keep doing that."

Dillon chuckles. "Yes, sir."

Daphne - I Wouldn't Want You Any Other Way

"Dillon," Ziggy says, coming towards the Fury, where Dillon works on his precious baby in the garage.

Dillon looks up, setting down the wrench. "What's wrong, Zig?"

Ziggy comes closer, which isn't unusual, but he's hunching in on himself, one arm gripping the other at the elbow, and his too-long bangs are hiding his eyes. "Dillon, do I talk too much?" he asks softly.

Dillon knows immediately what happened. The other Rangers agents shy about telling Ziggy exactly what they think of him. They've all lived through the war, experienced the loss that comes with it, and completely forget that Ziggy is just as traumatized as the rest of them. He just deals with it in a different way.

"Am I annoying you?" Ziggy asks, voice trembling.

Dillon drops his tools right there on the ground. "No, Zig," he replies. He draws Ziggy into a tight hug and feels as the Green Rangers begins to sob. "No, I wouldn't want you any other way."

Echinacea - Strength and Health

Ziggy yelps as he gets thrown flat on his back once more. "Dammit!" he curses, head thunking back against the ground.

"You're getting better."

Ziggy groans, "It's not good enough. Scott, Sunmer, and Flynn have all been fighting for longer than me and you... Well, you're you."

Dillon chuckles, sitting in the grass. "You're doing really good. You're better than you used to be."

Ziggy sighs. He looks up at the clouds and watches them cross the sky lazily. "It doesn't feel like it," he admits after several minutes of silence.

Dillon lays next to Ziggy, looking up at the sky just the same. "You are," he promises. "It doesn't feel like it, but you are."

Ziggy hums. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this, Dil."

Dillon is silent for a while, then his hand grasps Ziggy's on the grass. "If you aren't, you can borrow my strength. You've got this, Zig. You're stronger than you know."

Ziggy grumbles, but his smile says everything. "Thanks, Dillon."

"Anytime, Zig."

Fern - Sincerity

"Ziggy, don't be stupid! Look at him, it's not Dillon right now!" Scott shouts across the battlefield.

Ziggy's axe is in his hands, reared back and ready to strike, but looking into the eyes of his target, Ziggy can't bring himself to do it. It's not that Ziggy loves Dillon so much, the thought of hurting him is staying Ziggy's hand - no, Ziggy's way too selfish for that.

It's the look in Dillon's eyes.

Normally, when Dillon gets taken over by Venjix, his eyes go dull. They lose all spark of life, any signs of warmth are suppressed, and they're just... dead. This... this is different. Dillon's eyes are warm and full of life.

"What are you waiting for?" Flynn shouts, flipping away from a Grinder's swing.

"Just do it!" Summer adds, charging her Zip Charger.

But Ziggy puts his axe away. "No," he murmurs. "I can't."

Because in Dillon's eyes, there's a sincerity that's never been there before and Ziggy can't bring himself to snuff it out.

Gardenia - Sophistication

I never went to prom, actually. The words echo in Dillon's mind. Who hasn't been to prom? Prom is one of the few things Dillon remembers clearly. He'd gone to his high-school prom with this firecracker of a boy Dillon had thought he could one day love. That boy reminds Dillon a lot of Ziggy, honestly.

Let it never be said that Dillon doesn't do things for his boy. He stands in a pure black suit that's been mended several times with his hair slicked back and a flower in his lapel because there's no boutonnieres in the apocalypse. Dillon hates how stuffy it is, but the stuffy feeling is worth it if it means Ziggy gets the night he deserves.

After all, Venjix was defeated a while ago, so they should celebrate at this point.

The sophisticated get up is just starting to really get to Dillon when he finally looks up and sees. Ziggy comes down the stairs in green, green, green and Dillon smiles.

"Hi," Ziggy says.

Dillon holds out a hand. "Hey," he murmurs.

It's just as powerful as "I love you."

Hibiscus - Delicate Beauty

Late at night, sometimes, when Ziggy can't sleep, he likes to watch Dillon. Dillon doesn't sleep much, so Ziggy has to be quiet anyway, and if Dillon wakes up, it usually leads to sex, which means that Ziggy doesn't really care either way, and it's his favorite time of the night.

Something about the way the moonlight hits Dillon from the window makes him look fragile. It's captivating and Ziggy wishes he could take a picture.

"You gonna stare all night?" Dillon asks without opening his eyes.

Ziggy laughs, snuggling closer. "What can I say, I like what I see."

Iberid - Indifference

It happened again. Dillon was overtaken by Venjix once more. Ranger Black fights against Scott, Summer, and Flynn with ferocity he only displays on the battlefield. However, he won't touch Ziggy. Ziggy can fight him, and he'll defend himself, but Dillon always escapes away to another part of the fight, back to Rangers Red, Blue, and Yellow.

Ziggy thinks that hurts more than Dillon getting taken over by Venjix again.

Jasmin - Amiability

"He's a little social butterfly, ain't he?" asks the man Dillon didn't bother to get the name of.

They sit together at a table in some ratty old bar Ziggy had recommended. Apparently he'd worked here once before Venjix. What kind of person would give a bartender job to a kid barely 17, Dillon doesn't know, but he guesses that doesn't really matter.

"Yeah, I guess so," Dillon replies, knocking back his shot and signaling the bartender for another.

Ziggy is fluttering from table to table, a little drunk, but no less aware. For Ziggy to be only a little drunk in the three hours they've been here is a feat all of its own. Ziggy is an extrovert (according to Doctor K) and he likes people, so it's easier for him to get drunk when people think he's cute and buy him shots.

The stranger pours himself another drink from the whiskey bottle in front of him. He knocks the shot back, then asks, "He yours?"

Dillon smiles, downing the shot the bartender sets in front of him and putting a hand over his glass when the bartender makes to pour the third drink. "Thanks," Dillon says to the barman. Then he turns back to the stranger. "Yeah," he says with a brilliant smile, "he's mine."

Kalanchoe - Persistence and Eternal Love

It's been years, too many years, since Dillon took off in the Fury after nearly killing Ziggy in a PTSD fit. Ziggy's been looking for him ever since.

It isn't Dillon's fault that Ziggy had been having a bad day, nor is it Dillon's fault that Ziggy chose to take it out on the backyard fence. Dillon had come home and seen Ziggy with a pipe in hand and the flashbacks kicked in. Dillon was doing the only thing he thought he could do, which was to eliminate the threat. It's not Dillon's fault, but still he felt it was. Ziggy's been trying to track Dillon down every single day since.

It's almost six years to the day when Dillon left that Ziggy finally tracks his husband down.

Dillon sits in a jailcell with his head down. His hair's been cut and his eyes are dull. His nose is crooked and still leaking blood, but he's still the most handsome man on this gods-forsaken planet. "Dillon," Ziggy murmurs as the guard leads him to the cell.

Dillon flinches, but doesn't look up.

"You got five minutes," the guard warns, then he heads back out the door.

Ziggy looks at the Black Ranger in front of him. "Dillon, what happened?" he asks, putting his hands on the bars. "Talk to me, please."

"Shouldn't you be at home," Dillon asks gruffly, still not looking up.

Ziggy frowns. "No, my place is with you. Please, Dillon, talk to me."

"Ziggy, please," Dillon says, finally looking up. One eye is black, and the other has deep bags under it, making Ziggy believe Dillon hasn't slept in days. "Don't make this any harder for me that it already it."

"Tough shit," Ziggy snaps back, eyes going sharp. "We're married. I love you. You abandoned me, now the least you could do is talk to me and tell me why." His eyes go soft once more. "Please, Dillon. I love you. Just talk to me."

Dillon hesitates, then sighs. "Alright."

Lantana - Strictness

"No," Dillon snaps, grabbing Ziggy's belt and holding fast. "You know damn well you aren't allowed to throw yourself needlessly into any kind of danger."

Ziggy curses, squirming in Dillon's hold. "Lemme go, Dillon!" he curses.

"No."

Ziggy groans. "You and your rules."

Magnolia - Dignity

Dillon storms through the base, a letter in his hand and a snarl curling his lip upward. He stalks past Scott and Summer, past Flynn and the twins. He only stops once he stands in front of a door with green letters labeling it as Ziggy's room. Dillon knocks roughly on the door.

Ziggy opens the door and pokes his head out. He smiles. "Hey, Dillon. Come on in!" The door creaks open and Ziggy disappears behind it.

Dillon slips inside the room and closes it behind him. He breathes out a sigh. "Zig, we gotta talk," he says.

Ziggy bops his head in agreement, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "What's up?" he asks.

Dillon only hesitates a second, wondering if he should tell his boyfriend what happened. Ziggy needs to know, he tells himself. "This came for you today," Series Operator Black says, handing over the letter.

Ziggy raises an eyebrow, taking the letter. He reaches for the flap, and pauses when he sees what Dillon's done. "You opened it," he says factually. When Dillon nods, Series Operator Green swallows nervously, and slowly pulls open the envelope. The pictures fall out first, the ones that show Ziggy in undignified ways. The ones where Ziggy is naked and looks terrified.

Ziggy goes quiet. "Where did you get these?" he asks in a quiet, shaky voice.

Dillon shakes his head. "Some guy with a scorpion tattoo gave them to me. Said they were from Fresno Bob."

"Fresno Bob wouldn't do this," Ziggy snaps, voice full of venom and fire. "He wouldn't do this to me!"

Dillon nods, though he's not so sure Fresno Bob wouldn't do something like this. Most cartel and mafia bosses are all the same, and Dillon wouldn't put anything past any of them.

Ziggy makes a terrified noise, biting back a sob. "These are supposed to be gone," he whispers. The pictures get tossed to the floor. Some many of them feature Ziggy covered in various body fluids and blood.

"I can destroy them for you, if you want, Zig," offers Dillon, fully ready to rip the pictures into shreds and light the remains on fire.

Ziggy nods and Dillon snaps up the pictures, shredding them into pieces without a second thought. Then he grabs all the pieces and puts them in Ziggy's trashcan. "I'm gonna take this now," he says, indicating the trashcan with a shake of his head, "and you don't have to worry about it anymore. Okay?"

Ziggy nods. Dillon sits on the edge of the bed with him and hugs him tightly. If Fresno Bob ever comes back, Dillon will tear him apart like the pictures.

Narcissus - New Beginnings

Dillon looks out into the desert, surveying the dust and dirt, watching tumbleweeds blow by. He watches the world around him move. His bones still ache with the weight of the cybernetics that Doctor K couldn't remove, but with most of the cybernetics gone, Dillon finally feels like he can breathe again. Dillon listens to the wind, the sounds of static on the radio, the silence that settles in the cab of Dillon's car.

The car door opens and the car rocks lightly before the car door closes. "Alright! Where are we headed?"

Dillon smiles without looking up. He reaches for the car keys in the ignition and turns the key smoothly. The car sputters to a start and the motor purrs. "Anywhere we want," Dillon replies, glancing to the passenger seat.

Ziggy grins, leaning back and buckling the seat belt. "Let's go, Dil," he says.

Dillon smiles back, turns back to the road, and puts the car in gear.

Orchid - Refined Beauty

Ziggy whistles. "Now that is a nice-looking vehicle," he says appreciatively, looking at the beautiful yellow motorcycle Summer had brought home when her first one crashed into some Grinders at 70 miles per hour.

Dillon agrees with a slow, "Mm-hm."

Glancing at each other, Dillon and Ziggy both simultaneously agree not to tell Summer, snag the keys off the bar table, and zoom out of the garage without a backwards glance. She'll find out eventually, but until then, they'll have their fun.

Peony - Anger

"Don't touch me!" Ziggy snaps, knocking Dillon's hand off his shoulder.

"Zig," Dillon tries to say.

Series Operator Green shakes his head vigorously. Dillon shuts his mouth for fear of Ziggy making his concussion worse. "You don't get to be all sad and upset over this right now!" Ziggy says firmly. Her eyes blaze with restrained anger. "You're the one who did this! How many times did you tell me that I can handle myself? Then you go an' try to protect me in a fight I can handle myself! What the hell were you thinking, Dillon, huh?"

"Ziggy, I... I..." Dillon doesn't answer fast enough for Ziggy, apparently, because Ziggy only gets more upset.

Ziggy sits up, the bruises on his face shining dully in the low lighting. "Your dumbass decided to protect me and got me hurt in the process because I was so worried about protecting you because you LEFT YOURSELF OPEN TO ATTACKS!" Ziggy yells.

Dillon tries to speak, to tell Ziggy that he doesn't know what happened, that he'd really meant to stay in his lane and give Ziggy the space to be the fighter Dillon knows he can be. The words get stuck in his throat and Dillon can't speak them.

Ziggy scoffs. "Get out," he says, eyes filling with tears. "I don't want to see you right now."

"Ziggy..." Dillon tries to say.

"GET OUT!" Ziggy roars, grabbing the spare pillow and tossing it at Dillon with unnerving accuracy.

Dillon ducks, making a hasty retreat before Ziggy's patience ran out. "I'm sorry," he whispers as he closes the door behind him. The only answer he hears is a choked sob.

Quince - Perseverance During Adversity

"Ziggy?" Dillon asks, quietly opening the door.

"Get out!" Ziggy shouts back, just like he does every time, still angry at Dillon and unwilling to talk. "I don't want to see you! Get! Out!"

But Dillon is prepared this time. He comes in anyway. "I'm not leaving, Ziggy. Not this time."

"I don't want to talk to you," Ziggy replies, voice full of venom and fire.

"Well, too bad," Dillon replies. "Cause I want to talk to you." He comes closer. Ziggy glares at him beneath his too long bangs. Tears glitter in hazel eyes. Betrayal that hits hard, even though it's not really betrayal. Dillon sighs, "Ziggy."

"Say what you're gonna say and get out," Ziggy snaps coldly.

Dillon decides it's better to show than tell. He takes a chip out of his pocket and sets it on Ziggy's side table. "Doctor K found that in my neck when she checked me over after the battle. She said it was programmed to make me recklessly protective."

Ziggy looks at the chip with disgust. Then realization dawns on him, and he looks up at Dillon. "Someone put that in you?" he asks.

Dillon nods.

Ziggy's face falls and he scrubs a hand down his cheeks. "I'm such an idiot," he says regretfully. Looking up at Dillon, Ziggy continues, "I'm sorry. I should've known better."

Dillon shakes his head. "It's okay. You were hurt. I'm sorry too."

Ziggy offers a little smile. "Thanks, Dil."

Rose - Love

Of the many things Ziggy loves about Dillon, his lack of self-preservation is not one of them. "Dillon," he says, snappish and angry. "You're not allowed to throw yourself into dangerous situations either."

"Ziggy," Dillon warns, voice rough.

"No," Ziggy growls, stomping forward until he's toe-to-toe with Dillon, staring up the several inches between their heights. "You listen!" he demands. "Because you can't seem to get it through you're thick skull that I care about you, you idiot!"

Dillon, stunned silent, says nothing. He lets Ziggy stare up at him with sharp eyes and doesn't move, doesn't speak.

"I love you, you absolute dumbass," Series Operator Green says. "I love you, and you're not allowed to do dangerous things. I love you, and you're not allowed to leave me behind while you go off and play hero, like a dumbass."

Dillon's lips twitch upward.

"I love you," Ziggy continues, "and I couldn't stand it if you left me, so don't fucking leave me!"

Dillon sweeps Ziggy into a tight hug, which cuts off Ziggy's next words. "I love you, too, Ziggy."

Sage - Good Health and Long Life

"So," Ziggy whispers, "it's gone?"

The doctor nods, making a few notes in Ziggy's chart. "That's correct, Mr. Grover, the cancer has fully cleared and your cells are working at a normal rate. I'd like to get some blood work and scans, but you are officially in remission, Mr. Grover. Congratulations," the doctor replies, looking up with a smile.

Ziggy smiles, biting back a choked sob, then unable to help the next. Next to him, Dillon squeezes Ziggy hands. "Congrats, Zig," Dillon murmurs, pulling Ziggy into a hug.

Ziggy laughs through his sobs, face buried in Dillon's shoulder. If Dillon minds that his shirt is suddenly soaked, he doesn't say. Ziggy cries, Dillon holds him, and for a moment, nothing else matters.

Trillium - Modest Beauty

"Damn Ziggy, you look good!" Summer compliments from the couch, arm thrown around Flynn.

Ziggy grins. "You like it?" he asks, twirling around. He's wearing a cute green skirt that he'd picked up on one of their last trips to the clothing store. It had called to him on the rack. It was pretty modest, high waist, and the hem just under his knees, not exactly what Ziggy usually would wear, but-

"You look gorgeous," Dillon murmurs, arms wrapping around Ziggy's waist. "Beautiful."

Ziggy grins, twisting to meet Dillon's eyes with a smile. "Thank you," he says softly.

Dillon nods.

Ursinis - Trickery

"Dillon!" Ziggy shouts, skidding to a stop in front of Series Operator Black. "Dillon, we gotta go! Boxarok captured Scott, Flynn, and Summer, we gotta go save them!"

Dillon blinks, shaking his head. He looks at Ziggy and nods. "Yeah," he replies. "Let's go!" But something about his voice is off.

"Dillon, before we go," Ziggy says, paranoia born of dealing with people who would sooner trick and kill him. "What's my deadname?"

Dillon blinks, then gives the answer without hesitation. It's wrong. Of course it is. Ziggy never told Dillon his deadname, Dillon didn't care to know. Ziggy's eyes fill with tears. "Dillon," he whispers.

Dillon's face suddenly stretches into an unnatural smile. "That's not the right answer is it?" he asks.

Ziggy shakes his head, stepping back.

Dillon sighs, "Dammit." He lifts a hand and clicks his fingers. Ziggy's world goes black.

Vervain - Pray For Me

"Oh, god," Ziggy mumbles over comms. "Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god."

"Ziggy?" Dillon asks, concerned.

"I'm over the vent," Ziggy replies. "I see Venjix. God, if this doesn't work..." Ziggy doesn't have to finish the sentence. If this doesn't work, Ziggy will probably be dead.

"It's gonna be okay, Zig," Dillon assures him, though he's not even sure himself.

"Pray for me," Ziggy whispers. "Here we go."

Waterlily - Birth and Resurrection

Ziggy grumbles under his breath, listening to the preacher go on and on about the birth and resurrection of Jesus Christ. He hates churches, they're always so stuffy and full of hypocrites and assholes.

Dillon makes an agreeing noise at Ziggy's side. "I know," he murmurs. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

Ziggy nods, sinking deeper in his seat. "This is stupid. Why did Mom want to meet here?"

Dillon snorts softly. "Who knows. The hardcore religious people won't ever make sense to me."

Ziggy snorts. Then, he leans closer. "Thanks for coming with me," he says.

Dillon smirks back. "I had to," he replies teasingly. "You can't stay outta trouble by yourself."

Ziggy almost interrupts the sermon with how hard he laughs.

Xeanthemum - Eternity and Immortality

A little known fact about the Morphin Grid? It offers its Rangers immortality. It's the one thing that Ziggy hates, even all these years later.

He and the other RPM Rangers meet up every couple years, but Dillon hasn't been seen in several years now. Scott, Summer, and Flynn think he must've finally pissed off the wrong person and gotten himself killed. Ziggy knows better. Ziggy would feel it if Dillon had died.

So he's not shocked in the slightest when Dillon strolls over in the middle of one of the RPM meet-ups, twists a spare chair backward, and sits in it casually. Leaning forward, Dillon steals a French fry off Ziggy's plate and hums, "These are good."

Scott, Summer, Flynn, and the twins are all a little shocked. It's been years since any of them had seen Dillon, but here he is. Alive and well.

Ziggy smiles, grabbing Dillon's hand. With a serious look, his face falls, and Ziggy says, "You're telling me where you went." It's a fact, not a request.

Dillon nods. "And I'll spend the rest of eternity making it up to you," he promises.

Yellow Bell - Rebirth

Dillon opens his eyes after the surgery, stares up at the white ceiling. He looks around at the hospital room with confusion.

"Welcome back, Dillon," says Doctor K, going by Krishana now that she's finally found her name from before. "Your surgery was mostly successful. As I thought, we were unable to remove all the pieces and hardware, but aside from the six piece in too deep to safely remove, you are free of your hybrid parts."

Dillon smiles. A hand squeezes his. "How do you feel?" asks Ziggy, there with Dillon in the aftermath, as promised.

Dillon hums, looking at Ziggy with loving eyes. "Reborn."

Zinnia - Lasting Affection

Dillon and Ziggy aren't particularly affectionate people in public, but that doesn't mean they aren't affectionate at all.

Dillon hugs Ziggy close as they walk down the street. Keeping Ziggy close is always a good thing. "You okay?" he asks quietly.

"Yeah," Ziggy replies. "More than."

Dillon smiles, and they continue walking.

Happy birthday!! @estel-eruantien

#power rangers #power rangers rpm #ask #mutuals #estel eruantien #thanks estel!#writing prompts #ask game #flowers #dillon #power rangers dillon #ziggy grover #dillon/ziggy grover

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