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raspberriesandadventures · 1 year

Note

Can I request LaSquadra with a member that is really good at giving massages and offers to give them one? Whether it be hand, back, or a full body massage.

Hey! Sorry this one took some time to get out but I hope you enjoy it!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Risotto:

Risotto holds more tension in his shoulders than anybody else in his group of assassins. His muscles are tight here, wound up and sore from too much stress.

If you offer a massage while he’s working, he won’t complain in the slightest even though he already knows he’ll be distracted.

His eyes will slip closed as you work the heavy responsibility from his arms; his head tilted to the side ever so slightly. He’s not sleeping, merely appreciating.

He won’t ask for massages, not wanting to ever badger you about something he feels is a gift more than a requirement, but he’s incredibly grateful when you offer.

Risotto will return the favour when you least expect it and he’s shockingly good at using his stand to get to the deepest parts of the muscle.

Formaggio:

Formaggio doesn’t appear to have much stress when you first run your hands over his shoulders, but he keeps most of his worry in his chest where it can’t be noticed.

He will immediately accept any offer of massages from you, dragging your hands onto his chest with a teasing comment and a flirtatious laugh.

He doesn’t bother to keep his hums of pleasure to himself and will constantly compliment you throughout the massage.

You’ll become his go to after every mission when he needs the small comforts that your affection provides. The fact that it comes with a relaxing chest rub is a benefit.

When you’re half-asleep on his chest is when Formaggio will offer a soothing massage to your shoulders with techniques he’s learned from you.

Illuso:

Illuso stores a great deal of muscle tension in his hips and pelvic floor which is quite hard to notice at first. When you mention it, expect teasing about how you noticed.

He’ll joke around a little when you offer a massage but your offer is binding and he will request it’s fulfilled immediately. No matter where you are.

Snarky comments will disappear as he relaxes beneath your skilled touch, hums of contentment sneaking out despite his best attempts to stifle them.

You’ve now become his personal masseuse and he’s going to make sure you know exactly when he’s in need of your touch.

Illuso won’t be the best at returning the favour through massages but he’ll be very happy to pay you back in other ways once you’ve finished.

Prosciutto:

Prosciutto doesn’t get as physically tense as the others do but he’s incredibly prone to tension headaches that he tries to ignore. It never works.

When you offer a massage, he’ll brush it off as unnecessary, although he won’t protest if you offer a second time. He doesn’t believe it’ll truly help for a while.

You’ll have to listen very closely to hear the soft sigh he makes when you manage to work a particularly tight knot from his muscles but it’s there.

He’s far too proud to ask you for a massage directly but he’s going to loudly make statements about his headaches in hope of prompting you into one.

It’ll take Prosciutto some time to work up to giving you a massage in return and when he does, it isn’t particularly good but he tries his hardest and that shows.

Pesci:

Pesci doesn’t suffer as much with tight muscles as the others because his stress tends to settle in his stomach instead, making him feel nauseous and ill.

If you offer a massage to help elevate the tension though, he’ll be beyond excited and gladly accept your offer with a faint blush and mild stammering.

He’ll murmur small thanks and words of appreciation throughout the massage and will give you fluttering kisses whenever he has the chance to.

He’ll certainly ask you for a massage when he gets a little tense, especially if it really helps him relax before jobs that would otherwise make him sick.

Pesci is nervous about offering you a massage in return but his gentle hands make him really brilliant at it.

Melone:

Melone gets very tense arms and hands mostly due to the work he does involving excessive use of his stand. You can easily suspect carpal tunnel in his wrists.

He’ll brush you off if you ask but you can take his arm and gently pull it to you to offer a massage while he’s working, one he won’t back away from.

He doesn’t give too many verbal clues that he’s enjoying your attention but his head will lull to the side and his eyes may flutter every once in a while.

He’s not likely to ask you for a massage in the future (mostly because they don’t often cross his mind) but he’ll gladly accept any offer.

Melone will return the favour to you unexpectedly, sweeping your arm across to his own and running his fingers along it as if tickling. He’s sweet with it, if not talented.

Ghiaccio:

Ghiaccio holds most of his stress in his lower back and he complains about this often. You can feel how tense these muscles are just by resting your palms there.

He won’t say no to a massage but he’s going to take a bit to settle down; he moves around too much for the process to go by smoothly.

You know it’s working when he goes quiet, words fading into nothing, and his eyes drift closed. He’s likely to fall asleep unless you change what you’re doing.

He’s not going to ask when he needs a massage and he’ll probably protest every single time you offer. He does want them; he just won’t admit to that.

Ghiaccio will demand he’s able to give you a massage in turn though you’ll definitely need to offer some advice to make him less rough.

Sorbet:

Sorbet sleeps away his stress when it gets overwhelming but it builds up in his neck and jaw more than anywhere else, making him feel constantly uncomfortable.

He’ll never reject the offer for a massage, it’s something he’s always wanted to indulge in but rarely had the time or trust in anybody beside Gelato.

He sighs deeply whenever you find a tender spot and leans his head toward you in a show of true trust. You can expect a soft kiss occasionally when you least expect it.

If you show yourself to be willing, he will quietly request a massage whenever the weight of his job gets a bit too heavy.

He’ll return the favour with gentle touches and smooth kisses as he acknowledges his lack of skill in finding the knots deep within your muscles.

Gelato:

Gelato is wound up like a spring almost all of the time; his every muscle is tight enough to make you wince in sympathy for him.

Getting him to sit down long enough to help relax his muscles in any significant way is difficult but even if you don’t manage it, he’ll appreciate the attempts.

He makes happy sounds when you offer him a massage, ones so cute that they’ll make your cheeks hurt from affectionately grinning at him.

If he feels particularly tense, he’ll definitely ask you in sweetened words if you would mind helping him out. He won’t expect it but it will make him extremely happy.

Gelato is surprisingly good at giving massages but they’ll have to happen in short bursts so he doesn’t get too distracted or bored.

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etherealzx · 1 year

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hi hii <33 i hope you're doing good!

may i have a fugo dating reader who is from la squadra (but lets say buccigang and lasquadra doesn't have the beef aka no boss thing happened) so, reader and fugo are going on a date but the rest of la squadra are being the overprotective brothers and stalks them instead. reader being an oblivious sunshine of course didn't notice things going on but fugo is standing on a thin line vghdhf that would be cute

sorry if this confusing english isn't my first language, have a nice day/night ^^♡♡

I FUCKING LOVE FUGO

Fugo Dating Reader that's a Member of La Squadra

warnings: fluff, fem!reader, feminine terms used

this turned out way longer than i meant for it to be

You had been dating Fugo for a few months now. The two of you had decided to keep your relationship on the low, since you were from two different gangs. Your gangs weren't rival gangs or anything, but it was still probably a good idea to keep things between the two of you to save from potential drama.

That night, you and Fugo had planned to go on a date. You hadn't seen each other in a while due to you both having busy schedules, so the thought of seeing him put butterflies in your stomach. You had spent the entire day getting ready, taking a long shower to exfoliate your entire body, ironing all of the wrinkles out of your dress, and spending entirely too long on your hair and makeup. You had also put on your Dior perfume, something you only wore on special occasions. Your fellow LS members had noticed you getting ready all day, but no one had said anything to you yet.

As you were doing the final touches on your hair, you yelped as someone suddenly spoke behind you. "What are you getting all dolled up for, dolcezza?" It was Melone, leaning against the door frame, eyeing your figure up and down in your tight dress. "Jesus, Melone, don't sneak up on me like that!" You yelled, face turning red. He could be such a creep sometimes. He just chuckled at your anger. "Not that it's any of your business, but I've got a date tonight." Melone's eyes widened in surprise. The rest of La Squadra must have heard you from the next room over, and they all ran to the doorway of the bathroom you were getting ready in. "A DATE??" Formaggio yelled out in surprise. "With who?" Ghiaccio asked, looking annoyed but intrigued at the same time. You glanced up at Risotto, who was just standing with his arms crossed. "It's not really any of your business," You started, "But his name is Fugo. We've been going out for a few months now." You hoped this didn't give away too much of his information, since you had only given his last name. Illuso gasped from the back of the room. "Fugo? As in Pannacotta Fugo? The twerp that works for Bucciarati?" he blurted out. Fuck. Leave it to Illuso to always throw you under the bus. The rest of the group turned towards you, looks of surprise on their faces.

"Y/n, you didn't tell us you had been seeing someone from another team." Risotto said sternly, arms still crossed. You gulped as you felt your heart drop. You were terrified of your capo, you had seen what he had done to punish other LS members who got out of line.

"I know, I'm sorry... I just didn't think it was that big of a deal! Besides, they're not our rivals or anything!" You stammered nervously, desperately trying to justify seeing Fugo.

"It's fine. Just have fun... and be careful." He warned, before walking out of the room. The rest of the gang quietly followed out behind him. You felt like you could finally breathe again as they all left. You picked your purse up off the counter and made your way out the door.

Fugo had picked you up from the hideout in a nice, black car, one you assumed Bucciarati had let him borrow. "You look amazing," He said as he held the car door open for you. You felt your cheeks get hot at is words. "Thank you, so do you." He drove you off into the city, to a nice restaurant. He was giving you the princess treatment, holding doors open for you, helping you out of the car, and holding your bag for you. Despite his temper, he really was a gentleman.

Fugo wasn't showing it to you, but he was feeling uneasy. He had noticed the car that had been tailing you two since you left the La Squadra hideout, but never mentioned it to you. Even now as you sat at the small table in the fancy restaurant, he felt eyes on him. Fugo wasn't dumb, he knew what was going on. I mean, he was going on a date with another gang's only female member, of course he was being watched. As you spoke to him, his eyes were scanning the restaurant, looking for his stalkers. It wasn't until he finally looked out the window that he noticed them. Sitting in a blacked out Cadillac across the road, with five men in it. He didn't know La Squadra all too well, but he recognized one of them immediately. Illuso.

He tried to remain calm and cheerful with you, not wanting to ruin your date. He really was happy to be spending time with you, he just wished he wasn't being watched as he did so.

"Fugo, are you feeling alright?" You asked him, pulling him out of his trance. "You keep looking out the window. Is everything okay?" You placed a hand on his as you looked into his purple eyes. "Yes, I'm fine! Just admiring the beautiful night," He stammered, desperately trying to make excuses so he didn't worry you.

After dinner, he brought you back to the LS Hideout. He gave you a kiss on the cheek as he walked you to the door, opening it for you to let you inside. After he said his goodbyes, he closed the door behind you and began to walk back to his car. A chill shot down his spine as he felt the air turn cold around him. Suddenly, he couldn't move his feet, like they were stuck to the ground. He looked down to see ice had formed around them, tethering him to the ground beneath him. "Fugo, was it?" A grating voice said from behind him. Ghiaccio, Illuso, Risotto, Melone, and Formaggio revealed themselves to Fugo. Shit, he thought to himself, this is bad. "What is it you want with our sweet y/n?" Melone asked him. "N-nothing! It's not anything like that, I promise! My intentions are pure!" he stammered out nervously. Risotto laughed as he made his way toward him. "Just make sure you treat her right. No funny business. You try anything, anything at all with her and we will find you. Understood?" He asked sternly. Fugo gulped, nodding his head furiously. "Alright, Ghiaccio, let him go," He said, the ice suddenly melting from his feet. The men went back inside, still watching Fugo from the window. He ran back to the car, driving off as fast as he could. Who would have thought dating a girl from another gang would have been so terrifying?

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nicherayyy · 1 year

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i got another idea! maybe the child reader had a tiiiiny crush on bucciarati or any buccigang member (like, a childish crush) how would the big bros lasquadra react??

This one was so funny to write

La Squadra x Child Reader who has a tiny crush on Bruno

You only saw Bruno once when he came to talk to the team and when he saw your small frame he smiled and waved at you. After Bruno’s actions you just hid behind Risotto and stared at him. Bucciarati loves children and he thought your reaction to him was adorable. And after Bruno’s gone.. well, you won’t shut up about him.

It all started when the whole team had dinner. Everyone sat and discussed something and even Risotto came out of his office to spend some time with the others.

Everything was fine until Formaggio noticed how intensely you were staring at your mashed potato.

“Everything alright there, kid?”, he asked a little worried about you. This question attracted the attention of others and now they all were wondering what happened. It was as if you had come out of some kind of trance and now you were gathering the courage to say something. A few seconds passed before you quietly replied.

“When I grow up I want to marry mister Bruno”, Prosciutto coughed, trying not to choke on his wine. Everyone was too stunned to speak.

“Sorry dear, but he’s too old for you”, Melone patted your head with amusement, this whole situation was hilarious for him.

“He’s not”, you protested.

“Look at the time, it’s so late”, Illuso got up from the table “Come on kid, I’ll read you bedtime story”, he took you in his arms and headed to your room, wanting to escape this uncomfortable silence.

After that evening you didn’t shut up about Bruno. Every day you mention him at least once. It’s already starting to visibly annoy Ghiaccio. He understands that it’s just a childish crush, but I mean.. could’t you pick someone from a cartoon or a book, why does it have to be a grown man from another team. Now he always tries to hang out with you to get you to stop talking about this black-haired man.

“I mean, mister Bru-“

“Do you want to watch cartoons together?”

Prosciutto treats the situation more calmly. He’s more than sure that you’ll forget about Bruno after a month, so he’s not too worried. Usually when you start talking about Bucciarati he just lets you do it. Why not? Let your feelings out.

“Do you think mister Bruno would like this flower? Does he like flowers at all?”

“I have no idea tesoro”, he lazily answers while reading his morning newspaper.

It’s Pesci who worries. Why would you even like Bruno? That’s why he’s trying to be a cool big brother to you now. Want something? Sure, I’ll buy it for you. Do you want to spend time together? Sure, let’s go to your favourite cafe. He want’s to show you that he’s the way cooler than Bucciarati.

Melone’s the one who’s asking you about Bruno.Of course he won’t compare your zodiac signs or anything, you’re a child after all. He wants to know it all. Plus he thinks you’re adorable when talking about something.

“So you think he likes chocolate milk?”

“I do”, you exclaimed “Everyone likes chocolate milk”

Illuso and Formaggio think that this situation’s hilarious. The way Ghiaccio gets annoyed when you start talking about Bruno, oh boy. Therefore, they usually try to continue this conversations with you.

“So, in which house would you live with Bucciarati? I think you’ll need a bigger one”, Formaggio says as Illuso try to hold back his laughter.

“STOP GIVING THEM IDEAS”, Ghiaccio scolded at them.

And Risotto.. Well, o course he understands that this is all temporary. Although he doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s jealous. He’s used to you adoring him as a father figure, and now Bucciarati took this position. The next meeting between Risotto and Bruno was awkward.

“What have you done”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about”, Bruno was confused.

A/N: we don't talk about Brunononono...

#la squadra esecuzioni #la squadra di esecuzione #la squadra x reader #la squadra #jjba x reader #risotto nero x reader #jjba part 5 #jojo bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #formaggio x reader #prosciutto x reader #pesci x reader #melone x reader #illuso x reader #ghiaccio x reader

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jojosbizzarewife · 10 months

Text

Guilty Pleasure Movies

LaSquadra

Risotto, Prosciutto, Pesci, Melone, Ghiaccio, Illuso, Formaggio

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Risotto

IT (1990)

Prosciutto

Hot Rod (2007)

Pesci

Sister Act (1992)

Melone

Fifty Shades of Grey (2015)

Ghiaccio

10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

Illuso

Barbie as the Princess and the Pauper (2004)

Formaggio

Epic Movie (2007)

#jojo #la squadra #risotto nero #melone jjba #ghiaccio jjba #pesci jjba #prosciutto jjba #illuso jjba #formaggio jjba

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secret-cyborg · 4 months

Text

One Step Forward

Often, the utter lack of a coherent timeline in the 2001 series makes me sob on the inside. This time, however, it allows me to play fast and loose with what did and didn’t happen between the initial destruction of Black Ghost’s base and the Greek gods appearing. You know, in amongst the psychic dogs and the dinosaurs :’)

Specifically: I’m playing around with the team living together and living separate from each other/returning to their home countries and suggesting that it was less of a “we stayed together for a while, went our separate ways and then the next threat to the world brought us together” and more of a back and forth drifting as each tried to find their feet, and we viewers just weren’t shown all the times the whole team or a large number of the team were together in the house. (A fact my found family self will forever be sour about. :P)

At the risk of the author’s note becoming longer than the actual fic, I’ll end this by saying only: happy holidays, @lasquadra. I hope that this brings you a little bit of joy and feels for your faves, whom I tried my best to do justice to!

Warnings: Mild language and moderate discussions of war and child soldiers. Also one brief mention about death.

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It was a mark of his growing maturity, 002 thought, that he made it a whole fifteen minutes before he spun right on his heel to glare back at 008. The other man was further back than 002 had expected; the ground was cracking with the cold and had made 008’s footsteps louder than 002 was used to.

The tiny revelation changed nothing. 002 still scowled heavily as he demanded, “Are you following me?”

In response, 008 only gave him that smile that was a little bit gentle, a little bit fond, and a whole lot amused, if one knew how to find the smirk that was camouflaged in plain sight. 002 knew how to find it.

“I’m also heading in this direction,” he responded, calm to 002’s irritated.

“You’re heading in this exact direction.” 002 let the scepticism bleed into his tone. He wasn’t, after all, headed anywhere in particular, which made 008 following him even more of an unlikely coincidence. “At the exact same time as me. When you didn’t show any signs of wanting to move all morning.”

The smile on 008’s face became more obviously a smirk as he continued to make his way down the path, a rather hefty bundle wrapped in a blanket tucked under his left arm. But his tone was still (deceptively) mild when he paused a foot from 002 to ask, “Are you rejecting my company?”

It was such an unexpected question that 002 felt himself drawing back a little as though from a blow, eyes widening slightly as his stomach constricted. Despite the teasing, 008 was being sincere; that much was obvious, and that was what had really caused the blow to land the way that it did. Instinct bubbled up, telling him to be dismissive and cruel. Telling him to wound 008 with words so that, when 002 walked away, 008 wouldn’t be able to follow.

But that instinct was a worn one. It belonged to a teenager who no longer existed; who had lived in a time that had been snugly put to bed by the rest of the world. He was no longer the guy who ruthlessly cut away vulnerability and genuine care, seeing them as switchblades hidden up a sleeve, ready to be plunged into soft, vital flesh at any given opportunity. And he was, he realised, not even the weapon Black Ghost had tried to force him to be.

The little huff of dark amusement that escaped him was more for the sudden realisation that he’d started referring to his people by their numbers in his head again. And that he’d done the same for himself. They’d been trying, conscientiously, as of late. He’d been trying. And 008 — Pyunma. Pyunma was so very obviously also trying, in that sneak-attack, open-hearted way of his.

“No,” Jet answered, clipped and terse and then regretting his tone a moment later. The regret made him ask, slightly less gruffly, “Where are you headed?” as the two began to walk side-by-side.

“I’m doing a favour for a friend.”

“Because zero— because Joe isn’t around to do it?” Jet scoffed.

“Something like that,” Pyunma said, but Jet knew him well enough by then in all the ways necessary for combat to hear the hesitancy. The sudden thrum of caution-tension in his voice. He was wary, now.

What Jet didn’t know was why he was wary. Was it digging into his personal affairs? Was it the — admittedly, a little mean-spirited — dig at how everybody had made Joe their delivery person? Was it simply Jet’s attitude? The uncertainty made his gut sour. The desire to make Pyunma happy to be in his presence made him recoil with inner disgust at having such a desire. And the irritation that had driven him to the cold for a walk to clear his head rose to tidal wave proportions, washing his rational thought with anger. Because anger was a good emotion to cover other emotions; thick and strong and protective.

“This is why we shouldn’t live together,” he bit out, ignoring the part of him that was throwing up his hands in exasperation at himself. “We should all just cut ties until we need to be a team. Hell! We barely work as a team. We cobbled together fighting together but… we don’t get along. It’s ridiculous.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, fuming, and noticed only a few beats later that he’d picked up speed, and that Pyunma was keeping pace with him. Jet hunched his shoulders and scowled even deeper and hated feeling the way he was feeling. He didn’t necessarily want to be this spitting wet cat of a person, especially not after the recent trip to America really had felt like it had… not miraculously healed something inside of him. But it had shaken something loose. Or, perhaps, it was more accurate to say that it had shaken something into place so that it no longer rattled along the confusing mix of metal and bones that he consisted of.

“I— Hm.” Pyunma cut himself off.

After they’d walked for nearly a full minute in silence, Jet sighed. “What? What were you going to say?”

“I think,” Pyunma said, slowly, as though testing out where he was putting each word in case it landed on a hidden mine, “That we have a bit of a skewed view of what family should be like, you and I.” Jet couldn’t help the little noise of surprise that left him. It was the second time in under ten minutes that Pyunma had utterly blindsided him. Pyunma glanced at him with a reassuring smile. “We used to listen to radio shows. American ones. Maybe not any you know, in particular, but I’m sure the general idea of them hasn’t changed at all.” Pyunma turned a distant sort of smile to the sky as they walked, eyes locked in memory. “We used to all crowd around the one wireless that was available and listen so closely people were slapped if they breathed too loudly. They were all about… you know. Funny, bumbling mom and dad. Witty kids. Always getting into such silly situations. And we’d laugh about it afterwards. Silly Americans. Dumb Americans, worrying about such stupid things and getting themselves into such stupid messes. But… I wanted it. We all did, I think. Not just for the lifestyle, and because the problems seemed so easy, but because of the possibility of family that was offered to us. Normal families, we were taught, never fought. Not about anything… let alone for their lives in wars.”

Jet, honestly, didn’t know what to say to that. Normal families don’t fight had turned, near-instantly, into a piece of shrapnel that was worming its way through all the vital organs in his chest, and searing like molten larva through his veins.

“I’ve never… put it into those words before,” he said, voice quiet and distant as he struggled. But Pyunma was right. Without him realising it, Jet had always subconsciously had a rosy image of what family was supposed to be. And it had been the utterly sanitised, brutally plastic opposite of all he’d experienced. “Well, what the hell does that have to do with anything?” he said, trying to snap. But there was no venom in his voice.

“We’re learning conflict,” Pyunma said, simply. “Us as a… team.” He meant family. But Jet was glad he hadn’t used the word, because it felt far too heavy and sharp to handle, just yet. “Just because we’re finding our feet and negotiating and unlearning some lies… many lies…” Another smile in Jet’s direction. This one was a little forced, but it was forced with courage and determination and hope. “It doesn’t mean we won’t work. Give us time.”

“I—” Jet grabbed hold of the sentence he didn’t actually want to say, and pulverised it between his grinding teeth. “Everything is just… really pissing me off,” he admitted, tightly.

“Because caring hurts,” Pyunma said, more gentle than he’d been so far. “That… or it’s jet lag.”

It took only a second for the play on words to hit, and then Jet cursed at him and flipped him the middle finger, and Pyunma laughed. The laughter made some of the sharp ache in Jet’s throat lessen; enough for him to find himself smirking, faintly, as they continued on their journey. He realised, a moment later, that he was now technically following Pyunma, who did appear to have an actual destination. Jet didn’t mind following.

“I… really did miss you guys when I was away,” he admitted, softly. Because Pyunma deserved some vulnerability and honesty after his help.

“Do you think that was something bad?” It was both a tease and a serious question.

Jet countered with a question of his own: “Do I think Black Ghost… put something in us to make us care about each other?” He snorted as Pyunma let out a noise of disbelief. “I somehow really doubt it.”

“So then it’s just plain old humanity keeping its hold on us.”

“That’s what worries me,” Jet admitted, still quiet. Pyunma slowed and turned almost fully to watch him, surprise and curiosity clear in his expression. Jet heaved a sigh and flung his head back to look at the sky. It was obscured, partially, by trees, either rich with their possession of gold-brown leaves or plaintively reaching bare branches skywards, ever straining. “Back when I was… Before. Before Black Ghost, when I was fully human… the gang I was in… I would have died for any of those people. Actually, dying for them would have been the nicest thing I would have done. I haven’t bought the Black Ghost insanity that humans are just destructive monsters but… but. I’ve learned to… be cautious. About humanity.”

“I understand,” Pyunma said, and Jet had known he would. The certainty had been what had driven him to say anything in the first place. “I really get it.” Growing up in a war zone and making your family out of child soldiers and whomever was still alive would give a person that kind of perspective.

“Not everybody does. Everybody else on the team, I mean.” Jet sent a stone thudding across their path, viciously satisfied at the clang that sounded when something metal in his leg hit the rock.

“No,” Pyunma agreed. “We have some people on our team who… almost literally died lonely and alone.” Jet thought about Chang and GB… and then stopped, because the burn was simultaneously ice cold and boiling hot. “And it… well. Not only it; a lot of things make us all see things differently. And deal with ourselves differently. And get angry differently.” Pyunma raised a pointed eyebrow, making sure Jet noticed it before adding, “Like Albert.”

Jet stopped walking. “What do you mean?” he demanded, instantly bristling and defensive.

Pyunma raised his free hand. “You don’t need to be Fran to hear you two,” he said, blunt but still strangely gentle.

“So you were following me?” he demanded, hotly.

“I did have an errand to run, but there was no time set to it. After you left… I thought you might want to talk.” Jet scoffed. “It’s okay if you don’t. We have time, Jet.” Pyunma slowly, with clear intention of his movements, placed his free hand on Jet’s shoulder and squeezed. “You and Albert are trying. We know that. And that’s why the rest of us don’t get involved. Time.” Pyunma gave him a tiny little shake. “You and me and Joe and Albert… we had families of war before. We just had different types of war. And that’s what makes this so uniquely hard for us. The others… don’t get that. But they’re willing to learn. Willing to give time.”

“Do you all just sit there and talk about us behind our backs?” he snarled, shrugging off Pyunma’s hand. And then he felt foolish for his reaction, because Pyunma just gave him the most deadpan look known to man. Jet sighed in a low growl and ran his hands through his hair. “Yeah. Yeah. Fine. Sorry. Just… he drives me mad.” Jet swallowed. Pyunma let him think; let the silence and the stillness swirl around them. It struck him, belatedly, that Pyunma had used the word family, this time. Not directly but… the implication was an ember inside Jet’s blood.

“Come on,” Pyunma said, eventually, and started walking again. He didn’t push Jet for anything else, and Jet used the continuing silence to try and make some sense of his swirling thoughts.

“You said Joe,” he realised out loud. Pyunma let out a questioning noise. “You said Joe also grew up in a family of war.”

“An orphanage is a kind of war, too,” Pyunma said, quietly. “Maybe not recognisable at first but… The same uncertainty, the same strive for survival and a desperate future you barely dare to hope for but cannot let go of…” Hesitation trailed the sentence to nothing. “I don’t know what he’s told you, and I don’t want to betray confidence.”

“Yeah.” Jet cleared his throat. “Enough. He’s told me…” Understanding dawned as the first reach of the steeple loomed before them. “The errand’s for Joe.” Because everybody else used Joe as the errand boy.

“They’ve rebuilt the church, and the orphanage is, apparently, back to functioning again. With some of the same staff. So he can’t… it isn’t wise for him to show his face there again. I offered to deliver what he wanted to give.” Pyunma sighed. “We cover each other’s weaknesses, Jet,” he murmured, finally sounding less-than-light. “We’re gonna be together… for a long time, it seems. We didn’t get to choose much, but we get to choose what we make of what we’ve got. How much of ourselves we’re willing to lay down for one another. It’s not… giving up on who we are or were. It’s development of self.”

“You sound like G-Junior,” Jet said, because smiling and teasing about it was the easier option. Or, no: the easiest would still have been anger. This was… this was the one he wanted to make easiest.

Pyunma laughed at him, some of the ease returning. “He has been a huge help for a lot of things,” he said, warmly. And then, teasing and also not, he added, “Don’t give up on us. Not just yet. Okay?”

Jet locked his arms behind his head. “I’m not going into that church with you,” he warned, and Pyunma snorted. “But… also… yeah. Somebody has to keep GB and Chang from murdering each other, and if it has to be Fran all the time… she’ll be the one murdering. And… hell. Joe is a walking…” He shook his head. “If I’d met him back when I was in a gang, he’d have been an easy mark,” he admitted. “Kid has zero street smarts.” Another reminder, painful-fond, that if one stacked up all the years people had been frozen for, Joe was the youngest of them all.

“And Albert?” Pyunma asked, slyly. Back to being an undercover little mischief sower.

“Albert needs a kick in the ass,” Jet growled.

“Good thing we have many feet between all the rest of us,” Pyunma said, mock-sagely.

“Ha. Send up a prayer, or whatever.” Jet stopped in his tracks, letting Pyunma, who was sniggering slightly, continue. “I’ll… be here. When you’re done.”

“I know,” Pyunma called over his shoulder, and there was an identifiable something in his tone that let Jet lean casually against a street light pole and watch the world without hurry, insides no longer raging.

#secretcyborg2023 #fanfction #cyborg 009 #anon gift submission

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