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#but anyway it’s rare that a cartoon makes me laugh at all like it’s usually just ignorable and still has a good plot
glocodile · 2 years
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Owl House is really nice
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positivelybeastly · 3 months
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Does the x-office hate beast?
Cynically: yes.
Less cynically: it's complicated?
Like, here's the thing, right - Beast fans are . . . kinda rare. Sure, there's tons of people who saw the 90s cartoon and really liked him, there are tons of people who saw X-Men 3 and liked him there, there's a whole (almost separate) community of people who are still writing X-Men: First Class fanfic about that version of Hank.
But I'm talking about, will go out and write fanfiction about the character; will draw fanart of him; will actively go out of their way to talk about him on social media. I feel like that's been on the decline for the last . . . fuck, 30 years, probably? Ever since he went from this
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to this.
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Like, the difference is jarring and immediate, right?
And that lack of a dedicated fanbase made him an easy character to contort to fit stories that certain writers wanted to tell. The X-office doesn't have a ton of people gagging to write Beast, he doesn't headline his own series, he doesn't have a rabid Twitter populace who will fight and scream and shout like Emma Frost or Cyclops.
What do most people think when they see Beast? Like, normal people who don't read comics, who just consume maybe a Marvel movie twice a year, or saw a cartoon when they were a kid.
"Oh, he's cool. SO ANYWAY, MORE OF THAT WOLVERINE."
Beast is not a character with a strong base.
So he's just.
Disposable.
Who cares, throw Beast to Bendis or Ben Percy, I don't care, is what it feels like.
As for WHY he doesn't have that dedicated fanbase, well, I have theories.
A lot of Hank stories are just, sad. They're just so fucking sad and tragic and dark and about finding light where you can.
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I often find them very cathartic, like, Hank leads such a troubled and harsh life, and he savours the pleasures where he can get them, and I really love that aspect of his character, that unyielding spirit, but that does not make for a popular character.
His feline era, from 2000 to 2012, is honestly my favourite for him because he is so nuanced and his themes of learning to love your body and control yourself, and his thoughtful, measured, deeply moralistic stories resonate with me and provide me with comfort, the idea that people can be tempted to do bad in the service of good but turn away is beautiful to me.
But that's not really an easily sell? People don't usually want to be sad when they read comic books. They want to be thrilled or horrified or made to laugh. Sad is . . . harder to sell.
Honestly, I also think there's a degree of assuming that he's a snobby asshole because he talks fancy. Like, I legit think that plays into it, and you sometimes see writers fall for the same preconception, they assume that Hank is a snob, and he really isn't, he's a lower-middle class kid from Illinois who grew up on a farm and whose dad was involved in a horrific radiation accident because of poor safety conditions, this is not a person who would be snobby.
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It's so funny to me because the guy is from a fictional place in Illinois? It's never specified, which means, if anything, he probably sounds like he's from Chicago! Now, there's probably a degree to which he does speak more formally and has changed his voice, because Hank is extremely protective and conscious of the image he projects, always has been, but snobby? Pfft, nooooo. So yeah, absolutely, you see people assuming that he's a snob because he's smart. Snobby only plays well if you're Emma Frost.
I also have to say, I think there's a degree to which there's an anti-intellectual bias going on. If you look at pretty much all of the major genius characters, they are pretty much ALL unpopular because they are nerds and they are not usually portrayed as being great fighters or tacticians, which is an easy way for a character to become popular - that's why Cyclops is so popular, because he's right all the time and he's a badass, and that's an easy pop. Science solutions are inherently less visceral, harder to write and thus rarer, and do not stick in people's minds.
Moreover, what do you think of when you think of genius superhero? The reputation is of privilege and the image is of boring white guys, they assume it's just - boring. It's only interesting if it's cloaked in sarcastic wit, like House or Sherlock (during The Dark Times), or used in a martial sense, which is why Black Panther is the exception to the 'all the nerds are boring.' Bruce Banner also escapes this trap because he's had his own solo comics for 60 years and he's had a million people write absolutely amazing stories for him.
I also think that his almost complete absence from the Claremont era stories hurts his fandom reputation, because if you're an X-Men fan, you read Claremont, and Hank is not in those stories almost at all. He pops up during the Mesmero arc, during Dark Phoenix, here and there, but he spends 1974 to 1991 in the Avengers, the Defenders, X-Factor, he is so very rarely being written by who most people would consider the definitive X-Men scribe. There's also an element of the stupid X-Men vs. Avengers tribalism working against him thanks to that.
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I think Claremont writes a pretty decent Hank when he does turn up, but there's a reason he picked Jean and Scott, and it's interesting that he chose to feature Hank more often than Warren and Bobby, and even then, Warren more than Bobby. I don't know if Hank was really heavily in demand so he just couldn't get him, or if he didn't know what stories to tell with him, but I actually kinda think it was the former, just because Hank always makes an appearance in his post-'91 work, especially his alternate timelines, and he was clearly interested in writing for him in X-Treme X-Men given he set up the Betsy romantic angle early, but then Morrison snatched him up.
Hank also got pushed into the role of the naysayer during the Fraction and Bendis era, which is an instant rock around the neck for your popularity. A lot of the arguments that Hank makes about why he doesn't like what Scott does and how he runs the X-Men and Utopia are not necessarily wrong?
Like, X-Force is just plain morally bad. It is.
You can make the argument that it's necessary, but these two things can exist at the exact same time, which appears to be a concept that people do not grasp! And especially, like . . . the X-Men are not an army. They are a voluntary paramilitary group that is, ostensibly, dedicated to mutant rescue, outreach, and general superheroics.
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You are not obliged to stay.
Hank was suffering from legitimate PTSD flashbacks, he was wracked with guilt over the Skrull bioweapon (which, notably, sticks to Hank but does NOT stick to Scott), he was very obviously depressed, recovering from torture - and when he reached out to Bobby to try and explain how he was feeling, draw some comfort, Bobby basically just told him to deal with it!
But this made him SO FUCKING UNPOPULAR. You can go to comics sites that have comments under this issue, under the issue where Hank is having PTSD flashbacks, and they'll be like, THIS IS WHERE IT ALL BEGAN, and I'm like???????? The fuck are you saying to me?????? WHY ARE YOU BOOING HIM HE'S RIGHT.
There's also a degree to which I think that, whether the writers have realised it or not, they do not usually put in the work to establish that the X-Men are doing their due diligence to make sure that Hank is okay. They rely a LOT on off-screen things happening to fill in the blanks. A short list of things that we have never seen!
The reaction from the O5 when Hank first turned furry.
The reaction from the Mansion X-Men when Hank turned into a cat.
Anyone going to visit Hank in the infirmary when he was recovering from his fur and claws falling out due to torture.
Anyone expressing concern over the fact that during the whole time travel debacle, Hank was dying and did not tell anyone.
You don't see these moments, and these are fucking important! These make you sympathetic to the character! These are the moments where people look at Beast in pain, suffering because of what's happened to him, going through his emotional arcs, showing strength as he perseveres, THAT is what builds a fanbase and keeps a fanbase engaged with a character - but they just stop happening for Hank. You don't see them. He loses his characterisation moments, they just happen off-panel.
But what do you see? You see a lot of people walk into Hank's lab, they receive words of wisdom and comfort, or a scientific solution for their problems, and then they walk out.
Like, Hank from Avengers vs. X-Men onwards reads as just - psychologically unstable. He does things on impulse, he reacts without talking to people, he does not have strong relationships with anyone, he appears to have broken up with his long time girlfriend (for no specified reason, we still don't know why 9 YEARS LATER), he often appears adrift and lost and unhappy.
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And we are TOLD during his intervention that people have talked to him about what's going on, and they were ignored, but, like, I'm sorry, FUCK OFF, SHOW YOUR GODDAMN WORK.
If you want your emotional moments to have any bite, then you need to ESTABLISH things!!! When Ororo says, oh, you're just ignoring everyone, I'm like, FUCKIN' SHOW ME WHEN YOU TALKED TO HIM. Because do you know what I DID see?
I saw Hank being the most comforting and lovely and soft individual in Storm's solo series, being there for her after Logan's death, BASICALLY BECOMING HER SECRETARY BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO FUCK OFF AND BE A THIEF, and then BOOM, suddenly, she's like, you're a fucking loose cannon.
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This was, like, a few months apart. Editors? Hello? Does Ororo fucking hate Hank or not? Because Bendis seems to be of the opinion that she does, but Greg Pak does not appear to have gotten the memo! HELLO? EDITORS? There's a big fucking GAP here where a story arc is meant to go???
There's so much of Hank's 2012-onward story that we just AREN'T shown. Like, he and Scott just - patch up their differences over the revolutionary thing OFF-PANEL during Hickman's Avengers. You don't even see the conversation. He agrees to try and work on the M-Pox cure, MOVES TO ATTILAN TO HELP THEM, all because Storm (WHOM, LAST WE SAW, WAS THREATENING TO PUT HIM IN PRISON FOR CRIMES AGAINST NATURE) convinced him to . . . and WE DO NOT SEE THIS CONVERSATION.
Every time someone pulls out the 'oh, this has been an expertly played baton pass of writers depicting Hank's moral downfall,' I just want to fucking pick up shit and fling it in their face, because they could not be more wrong.
Do you know who's read more Beast comics than these fuckers?
Me. It's me.
Believe me, if there was an actual DEPICTION of ANY of these MASSIVE emotional moments in Hank's life, I would LOVE to talk about them and agree. But they do not exist. It's a character being used as a narrative prop to justify writing decisions that otherwise wouldn't make sense (Inhumans vs. X-Men, All-New X-Men), and no-one cares because he was never that popular to begin with.
And it just - frustrates me, because, like, did you know that Hank formed a political advocacy group for mutant rights?
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Did you know he was present during sessions of Congress, giving his support to pro-mutant legislation and becoming long time friends with multiple politicians?
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But because it's in New Defenders, because it's in Secret Avengers, and no-one READ those issues, they don't care! It doesn't matter to them! Hank has, by and large, within the narrative, done SO MUCH for mutant rights, he has ACTIVELY worked for them within the system SO HARD, but because it isn't done with an optic blast or a big punchy fist in an X-Men book, it doesn't count.
And like, I just . . . the last few appearances before he starts being focused on in X-Force, before the heel turn, he is NOT acting like an asshole!
Laura literally calls him the nerd she can trust and he takes pictures of her and Gabby being cute during a party!
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He's helping Banshee recover from his Apocalypse corruption and teaching at Harvard, trying to actively retire from superhero work because he's exhausted!
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He's telling Captain Marvel, hey, you're wrong about your precognition bullshit in Civil War II, and he's helping Spider-Man with science problems, and he SAVES THE INHUMAN CIVILISATION SINGLEHANDEDLY!
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So many writers are trying to steer him back onto course. Not just Avengers books, either, X-Men books! There's, like, TWO, THREE writers who want to push evil, asshole Beast, and everyone else is just like, uhhh, nooo? But because the X-office do not care, they keep getting their chance. They don't care about protecting Beast's reputation, or his stories, or his legacy. He's just a character to be thrown wherever he'll fit.
So you get the narrative that he was always evil. He was decaying all along.
No, it's bullshit. It's literally the Scarlet Witch story again, where it just HAPPENS in fits and starts to kick off events and stories, regardless of whether or not it makes sense for past characterisation or continuity.
So, yeah. It's a combination of the X-office not really caring about protecting the image of the character, and certain writers just doing shoddy, shitty jobs of writing emotional checks that their asses weren't willing to cash.
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kingboohoo37 · 4 months
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KBH RANDOM RANT
I'M BACK... at least I try to post more often. Streams will also come more regularly (surely...).
I'm slowly getting back to work so my time is still very limited. I thought this was a good time to bring back my random rants about fandoms since I just revisited an old classic from my childhood.
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YEP we're talking about Kim Possible one of the most ludicrous fictional universes I've ever seen... In a good way!
First up: This show is FUDGING 22 YEARS OLD THIS YEAR... I'm really getting old...
The funny part about that is it was made during the peak of the 2000s... and you really notice that. The language that most teenagers use in this show is so stereotypical for that time it feels so nostalgic even watching it XD
Anyway, let's get the obvious out of the way. I know this is supposed to be a kids cartoon and I know that I'm an adult man but that doesn't stop me from watching it.
So, why is this show so great?
Good question! Its primary charm probably comes from its simple comedic attitude of telling a story.
The characters are so ridiculous that you should never be able to take this show seriously simply because most of their actions or the situations around them don't even make sense. This show just requires you to take in its vibe and go with the flow. I mean... a teenager knowing 16 forms of Kung Fu and saving the world on any given occasion is nothing that can possibly make sense. Don't forget: "Anything's possible for a Possible!"
Let's get into the characters:
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Kim is your basic teenage girl, and she's here to save the world. You can't stop her 'cause...
Okay I'll stop xD
Apart from her being an ass-kicking girl boss, her main character traits are kinda the things you expect from a main character. She saves the world out of sheer will to stick to her morals. In short: she wants to help people. That obviously doesn't always work out and she sometimes ends up judging people by what they are instead of who they are. On top of that, she gets jealous easily.
BUT she is brave, smart, and makes usually good choices in the heat of the moment (except when it comes to love xD), and is otherwise very mature for her age.
Well... the opening song didn't lie. She really is your basic teenage girl. That doesn't mean she isn't cool xD
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Well, obviously I can't end it without talking about the man and his very smart and hungry naked little friend.
What makes this show so funny is well... its ability to deliver comedy simply by a character existing and Ron Stoppable plays a big part in that.
He is pretty much a normal guy who just happens to be Kim's childhood friend and later somehow steals her heart xD
He is an absolute doofus. He is silly and rarely takes anything seriously. He is also lazy and loves his favorite junk food joint Bueno Nacho.
Despite all that he still cares for his friends, his naked mole rat Rufus, and usually learns a very important lesson after an episode.
He accompanies Kim on pretty much every mission and is usually more of a hindrance than a help. Despite all that Kim still loves him in her own way. And he also saves the day a couple of times, so it's not like he is a complete slob.
Rufus is just the cherry on top. Both of these guys are hilarious and I was honestly surprised by how much I laughed watching this show.
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I could go on and on but I'm gonna try to finish up this post here before it gets too long xD
Even though every episode has kind of a similar structure, it never gets boring. The villains, the side characters... all of them add something very unique to the table. You just throw some characters together and boom the story kind of writes itself XD
Season 4 was my absolute favorite part of the show since guess what ... that was when Kim and Ron started dating and BOY DO THEY MAKE A CUTE COUPLE.
Ahem... anyways. I do not regret watching all 87 episodes in the last 2-3 weeks. If you're looking for a comfortable. goofy and funny way to escape reality for a moment I can only recommend this old classic.
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buoyantsaturn · 2 years
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13 17 21!
hiiiii katherine!!!
13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly difficult for you write about? What is easy?
relationship angst is actually very difficult for me bc like. i dont know whats reasonable for couples to fight about bc ive never been a part of a couple lmao. like whats a disagreement and whats a fight and whats enough to break you up like yeah i know the red flags and whatever but i genuinely am the last person who should be writing romance fics lmao.* easy is usually anything where people are just like joking around and picking on each other although i WILL say that i take a million years to workshop jokes and yes my mutuals suffer from it. that being said the ass eating joke in the camp counselors au is still the funniest thing ive ever written and i still cry laughing every time i go back and reread the conversation that made that joke happen in alabanda
17. Talk to me about the minutiae of your current WIP. Tell me about the lore, the history, the detail, the things that won’t make it in the text.
my CURRENT wip (technically 2 most current wips) are secrets. the things that i Can tell you include: wip #1 is an extension of something i absolutely ADORED writing but continuing it makes me nervous bc like. you know how sequels are rarely as good as the original? i suffer greatly from that syndrome in my writing imo so it might be 1. worse for people to read (and yes i know i know yall will read whatever i write and will love it with your whole hearts but thats not the point) and 2. less enjoyable for me to write :/ but im having fun planning it right now at least!! i even got a new idea for it right when i got home from work so that was just jotted down in the planning doc :3
and wip #2 is a surprise! it is a very very new idea that is also technically not even My idea but i Got the idea by reading two entirely different fics (like not even both by the same author, and i doubt the two people even know or know of each other) and it was kind of like. what if i take THIS aspect of this writing decision and incorporate it into THAT storyline to explore how things might differ. and i have no idea how the end result is going to turn out bc i did Most of the planning at 11pm last night after working a 9 hour shift and then practicing my bass for like 2 more hours so. i might have to rework the whole thing anyway and may not even post it at all <3 we shall see <3
21. Could you ever quit writing? Do you ever wish you could? Why or why not?
i will admit i have Thought about quitting. I could never quit writing Altogether bc like ive said before ive been writing fun little stories literally for my entire life but like. right after i graduated college i was like. i should really stop paying so much attention to fandom and fic writing and focus more on like. finding a real job that isnt at a tourist trap that doesnt respect me and i kept telling myself not to plan too much further ahead in the year with my fics because who even knows if i'll be writing fic come october or november of 2021 (lmao) so like. i kind of did try to at least slow down my writing and that. failed miserably lmao. but i have decided that actually no i do not want to stop! writing makes me happy and its something that i enjoy doing and i think it keeps my brain active and gives me something worthwhile to do while im relaxing on the rare chance that i get a day off from work. i DO wish i could write more of my own original stuff but i simply do not have the brain space for creating original characters and relationships and such which is why i feel so comfortable putting the pjo characters into so many wildly insane new situations. at least that way it FEELS like i'm being original and creative even if im just playing around with the same puppets in front of a bunch of different cartoon backgrounds <3
thanks for asking!!
send me numbers!
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happytroopers · 3 years
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crosshairs fic idea: reader is gossiping with coworkers (maybe medics idk) about who the most attractive clone is and reader mentions crosshair and he somehow finds out and teases her
Teasing // Crosshair x reader
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“It’s definitely Captain Rex. ” Tula, a Rodian nurse from the 212th, stated decidedly. You giggled into the shitty GAR rationed caf.
“That’s just cause your into blondes.” You teased, content with the rounds of chuckles at the mess hall table as Tula’s teal cheeks blushed blue.
“I still don’t know why we’re having this conversation, they’re clones, they all look the same! Thats like the whole thing.” Rys groaned uncomfortably, the only man at the table of civilian enlistments. It was rare for some many of your friends to be in the same place at the same time- but medical staff and engineering alike, every six months after your first deployment civilian enlistments were shipped back to Coruscant for a week long training refresher.
“You can’t say that, it’s rude!” Tula slapped his arm, eyebrow ridges furrowing over her galaxy eyes. He held his hands up in surrender.
“Yeah Rys, we won’t assume you’re any less straight if you admit that Wolffe is clearly the most attractive.” Raina grinned, her peach colored lekku twitching at the thought of the commander. You considered the idea but shook your head as other names got thrown around.
Kix, Fives, Bly, Keeli, Cody, and a couple other names you didn’t quite recognize the names of were tossed around the table. Haircuts, scars, tattoos, personality all became deciding factors as you at your dinner, occasionally chiming in to tease your friends.
“Ok then, who do you think the hottest soldier is?” An engineer from some outer moon data post asked after you teased her for her choice- Tup, a younger soldier in the 501st that you hadn’t met since your transfer to Clone Force 99.
You held your hands up, ready to evade the question. But Raina interjected, a challenging look on her face. You’d gone through academy with the peachy colored twi-lek and her sharp tongue was almost faster than her flying. You knew that look, and it didn’t bode well.
“If you don’t answer, I’ll tell every trooper I see all week that you said it was them.” She threatened with a smirk that said she already knew she had won. The smirk grew to a grin when you let out a defeated sigh.
“Well, in my own personal opinion, that Crosshair is the most attractive man we work with.” You admitted quietly. An honest answer on your part, you did think he was attractive even if you’d never say it to his face. Immediately, several pairs of disbelieving eyes landed on you.
“What? He doesn’t even count!” Rys pointed an finger at you to emphasize his point, “he doesn’t even look like the other clones!”
You shrugged as Tula slapped the back of his head again, her voice scolding as she hissed, “You can’t say that either!”
Then she looked at you, “Really though? He’s meaner than a burned gundark.”
“He’s scary.” Raina nodded.
“He’s an ass.” Another one of the 212th enlistments echoed from down the table. You’d forgotten that a few of the units they were assigned to probably had worked with Clone Force 99 at some point. Nevertheless, suddenly, you felt a need to defend the sniper who had finally become what you’d consider a friend.
“Ok, so it takes a while to get to know him, but...” you started, thinking of all the amazing qualities no one else saw because they weren’t with him all the time, “he’s loyal to a fault, really funny, always pulls me out of sticky situations and usually manages to keep me out of them to begin with, once you get to know him and how he is, you see how much he cares about his-“
“Ok, sure,” Raina cut you off, clearly not believing the cold eyed sniper could care about anything or anyone. She paused to pitch her voice up, flutter her eyelashes, and clasp her hands beside her face like a cartoon princess, “we don’t know him like you do~”
She interrupted herself with a snicker before she continued in her normal voice, “and all that bantha crap, but this is about attractiveness. What makes him hot? And don’t give me any of this, personality is all I look at shit.”
“And if I tell you, you’ll leave me alone?” You asked, though it was more of a demand. Tula nodded, she had always been a little boy crazy, and was dying to hear the scoop. You sighed again, hoping your cheeks weren’t too flushed, “fine, He’s very unique looking, in all the best ways. He’s very tall and lean, but crazy built. I’m into the silver hair, and believe it or not, under the armor that man has the best ass you’ll ever see.”
Tula was leaning on the table, giggling wildly at the juicier bits of you description. Raina had leaned back in her seat, and rolled her eyes, “To each their own, I suppose.”
Fortunately for you, the conversation switched to complaining about to the soldiers that were in charge of your training. There was a rumor the Fox used “civilian training” as punishment for his men when they earned a reprimand. It made sense, all the Coruscant guardsmen that were tasked with running drills with you weren’t exactly thrilled to be there. As if any of you were either.
“Yeah, I definitely don’t understand that attitude. We get it, you don’t want to be here, neither do we, but we are so let’s just get it over with- with out the..... are you even listening?” You were in the middle of your tangent when it was clear none of your group was listening to you. Instead there were all staring over your head with varying looks of slight fear, curiosity, and overall disdain. Tula was the one who attempted to subtly point behind you. At first you feared it was one of the troopers in charge of your training, so you quickly turned around with a forced apologetic look on your face.
To your surprise, you found Crosshair. Helmet free, as usual he had a toothpick between his teeth as he gave your group an appraising sweep. He had the same look on his face that he did when he was sizing up ‘the regs’- until he got to you. It took a year for him to stop looking at you that way, but his slight sneer eased out to neutral-which when it came to the sniper, it might as well have been an ear to ear grin.
“Crosshair! What are you doing here?” You asked, turning around in your seat. In addition to his sudden appearance, just his president was slightly confusing. Typically, Hunter would come himself, or send Tech- all to avoid a potential fight. Your training mates looked slightly bewildered at the amicable exchange.
“Springing you. We’ve got an assignment.” He shrugged after plucking the toothpick from between his lips. Like a true creature of habit, he started twirling the stick between his fingers. You quirked an eyebrow motioning to the other civilians.
“You can’t ‘spring me’, it’s GAR regulation for me to do this training refresher.” You reminded him, he rolled his eyes- but you weren’t sure if his disdain was for your use of air quotes or just disdain for GAR regulation in general. With any member of the Bad Batch, it was usually general disrespect for the rules. You gave him a look before continuing, “I still have three more days.”
“Is it really training? You could run circles around anyone here, especially them.” He drawled as he nodded his head over his shoulders at the table of red painted troopers who were eyeing him in distrust. Your eyes went a little wide, was that a compliment? And then you ducked your head at the offended glares of your table. In an effort to prevent a fight, you stood quickly before letting him lead you off.
“They’re aren’t gonna let me leave, Crosshair.” You reminded him, looking up to meet his eyes. He smirked a bit, setting his eyes forward.
“How are they gonna stop us?” He challenged, dropping his smile to glare at a passing trooper.
“Well, ion cannons come to mind.” You mused before clearing your throat, “You guys could always go with me, you went on plenty of missions before you got stuck with me. It be like the good ole days.”
He didn’t laugh at your joking tone, but shook his head, “You’re one of us, you stay with us”
You were stunned to silence for a second, despite your friendship he’s never referred you you as ‘one of them’. Heat rose to your cheeks as you exited the corridor into a lift, so Crosshair diffused the tension.
“Mission takes precedence over regulations. When have we been know to follow the rules, anyways.” He mused, swiping his ID card so the lift would let you out in the hangar. He relaxed a bit when you snorted a laugh before he continued on, “Besides, how can pull you out of sticky situation if you’re on a different planet?”
You froze in your spot, stomach dropping and cheeks flaring with red hot embarrassment; you had forgotten the cardinal rule of working with Crosshair.
If you didn’t have eyes on Crosshair, Crosshair definitely had eyes on you. And in this case, apparently ears as well.
“Ok, look-“ you started, hoping to ease your embarrassment, but all of the excuses you could come up with fell flat before they made it out of your mouth. Fortunately, the lift door slid open, allowing you to escape before you could further your embarrassment.
Crosshair actually chuckled out loud, long legs easily traipsing past you as he headed towards the Havoc Marauder. Momentarily, he twisted around to walk backwards, pointing his toothpick towards you, “Don’t worry, your ass is almost as good as mine.”
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angeloroki · 3 years
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s/o who is like cat from victorious with shoto; bakugo; izuku
— character ; shoto todoroki x gn!reader, katsuki bakugo x gn!reader, izuku midoriya x gn!reader
— request ; Okokok I just had this idea while laying in bead and I think it would be really funny/sweet for izuku shoto and bakugou to have a really dum kinda like cat from victorious
— genre ; fluff, crack
— a/n ; they're all aged up as usual !
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shoto todoroki
shoto simply adores you
he may not show it directly through words or anything but he loves you deeply
indeed, since his childhood he has known only darkness and melancholy
so when he met you you were like a ray of sunshine in his world full of anger and resentment towards his father
always cheerful and bubby,
it's true that sometimes he had a hard time keeping up with your excess of happiness
but he would never get tired of your smile that went up to your ears
shoto is also very protective of you
you are a naive and sensitive person
so consider yourself lucky to have shoto todoroki as your bodyguard
he would never let anyone shade his sunshine
a simple cold look and the person would leave you alone
and you then, always so innocent you didn't understand why the person who was bothering you suddenly left you alone
shoto was your guardian, while you were his light
sometimes he had to take a long time to explain something that was obvious to him
you are too innocent and naive
but you will never see him lose his temper with you
he will take all the time he needs to explain to you for example that no, animals in movies are not real talking animals
you were both walking through the mall with a drink in your hand. it was a perfect afternoon, you were telling him in a cheerful voice a rather bizarre story that made you laugh so much, while shoto listened silently with a slight smile on his face. your expression reflected nothing but happiness and innocence. he had become accustomed to your soft and melodious voice when suddenly your gaze fell on a plush shop. a pout formed gently on your face when you saw the price. aoutch. your adorable expression was soon replaced by a sad one. this obviously did not escape your boyfriend.
a few days later, shoto was waiting for you in front of your house with a bag in his hand. a smile immediately appeared on your face. you loved surprises!
« shoto, what's that ? » you say in a questioning voice.
your hand retrieved the bag and you wasted no time in discovering the contents. a large frog-shaped stuffed animal was in it.
your smile widened even more, which shoto thought was impossible considering how much you were already smiling, and a small laugh escaped from your lips. Shoto was pleased, he had succeeded in making you laugh.
« ahhhhh you're the best i love you i love you i love you ! »
« i love you too baby. »
katsuki bakugo
I think you are one of the few people with whom bakugo loses his temper less easily
but your naivety or lack of understanding...
you were... how to say?
quite slow at times
on the rare occasions when he pays you a compliment
you take it in an offensive way, and you end up saying almost in tears "what does that mean???"
and then he has to explain word by word what he tried to tell you in an irritated way
but as soon as you understand that he wanted to compliment you, a wide angelic smile lights up your face
and that bakugo would never admit but it always made him happy
and maybe even his cheeks took on a slight red tinge oops
he was the first one to call you a moron or an idiot
but nuance you were his idiot
so beware of whoever comes to make fun of you
katsuki would take care of that person without you knowing
because he didn't want your smile to disappear because of some assholes
however he often made fun of your tastes, stupid as he liked to say
you loved cute animals like rabbits or little cats
so every time you saw one in the street or at the pet store, bakugo was the first to laugh at you
which made you cry
but bakugo is a wonderful boyfriend and once bought you a kitten that you called king explosion murder
bakugo was on the verge of screaming. you were currently giving him a hard time because he had dared to ignore king explosion of murder who was asking to be petted. and that didn't sit well with you.
« y/n is just a damn cat! it's not the end of the world. »
you turned around, your lips curled up in an annoyed pout.
« it's not just any cat. it's king explosion of murder, our cat. which you promised to take care of. as much as i did. »
he rolled his eyes before sighing loudly. sometimes you could be as stubborn as the young blond, and in some situations it could be really annoying for both of you.
« y/n. » he said in a firm, desperate voice.
« hmm. »
« i'll buy you an ice cream if you'll stop giving me the cold shoulder. »
you finally turned your head to him, your irritated expression replaced by a happy smile.
« let's go. »
izuku midoriya
izuku always admired your energy
indeed you were a living battery
with your bright smile and the way you lit up the room you were in
nevertheless he had to admit that it was sometimes difficult to follow you during the day
poor baby, you were going too fast for him
but what was even more difficult for him was to understand you
you were asking him questions that were so insane and stupidthat he didn't know what to answer
aaand what he understood even less was your innocence or your naivety
how could you accept to give 1000$ to a stranger in the street because he told such and such a lie to fool you ?
your excessive kindness did not fail to surprise the young man with green hair
while we know that izuku is already altruistic
anyway
but despite everything he knew that he had a mission as a boyfriend to make you happy
and fortunately for him you were easy to make happy
he also loved this trait of being fascinated by everything and so easily
it was one of the many traits you both shared
« izuku ? »
he turned his head to face you, a slight smile painted on your face. your sweet voice echoed in his head. your face was serious, which usually was always accompanied by a smile no matter how light or super happy it was.
« do you think that dogs who wear clothes get teased by other dogs who don't ? i hope not. because they're so cute... »
izuku blinked for a few seconds. a confused expression settled on his face. he shook his head gently, though he had to get used to her questiosn randoms.
« um y/n i don't know. but i don't think... »
you raised your eyebrows.
« i saw this video on youtube that showed the opposite. » you said, holding out your phone.
izuku looked at the video intently before handing the device back to you.
« y/n, baby. it's a cartoon. »
« so what ??? » you answer offended.
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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years
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Why Samurai Jack is a Fan-Frickin’-Tastic Character
Salutations, random people on the internet who certainly won’t read this! I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.
And today, I’d like to introduce you to somebody:
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This is Samurai Jack, from the popular Cartoon Network series Samurai Jack. Jack is a rare case. Where most shows would have a cast of main, secondary, and recurring characters of varying sizes, Samurai Jack is a series that mostly follows its titular character on his own. Sure, occasionally, you'll see the Scottsman or Aku making an appearance once in a while. But for ninety-five percent of the series, it's entirely focused on Jack and whatever oddball bounty hunter he's forced to deal with for the next twenty-two minutes. This type of decision can be risky because without quality writing, strictly following the same character week after week could get boring real quick. Thankfully, Samurai Jack is a series that's packed to the brim with incredible writing and direction, making Jack himself a fan-frickin'-tastic character.
How is that possible? Well, let me count the ways.
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1. He’s the right type of overpowered
Jack knows almost every fighting style in the world and uses that knowledge to survive every bounty hunter, demon, and/or robot he faces every episode. On paper, this type of character could seem unbelievable given that he's just a mortal man, and even monotonous to know he always wins. But that's the thing: Even though Jack manages to almost always win every fight he's in, it's quickly explained why in the very first episode. Through a montage, we see Jack learning every fighting style from several teachers, each of them helping him prepare for the ultimate battle against Aku, an unspeakable evil. Through the simple act of showing us a few scenes of Jack learning a new skill, it's easy to understand why he's a difficult opponent to beat and easy to believe when he introduces another fighting style we haven't seen him use yet. Plus, while Jack's fighting is formidable, that doesn't make him--
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WRONG SHOW! But it's true.
Despite winning every episode, it is never an easy feat. Nearly every battle results in Jack getting beat up and torn apart (Or, his clothes do, anyway). When this happens, it makes the victory feel earned rather than easily given. Take his fight against the beetles in episode three, for example. All of his traps go off without a hitch, and he makes it out while standing upon a pile of his vanquished foes. However, during the fight, his armor got stripped away entirely, and he's now scratched up and covered in robot oil:
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That image alone proves that even though he’s winning, it doesn’t come easy for him. That remains a staple throughout most of the series, throwing in a few instances when he temporarily loses only to make his eventual victory all the sweeter. He may be overpowered, but at least it's still entertaining to watch regardless.
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2. He adapts quickly
A bit of background information to those who haven't the show (probably should have done this in the beginning, but live and learn, I guess): Jack is an ancient samurai that gets magically teleported to a future where his mortal nemesis rules the world. Now, Jack is forced into an environment vastly different from his own, and in turn, he's forced to deal with a lot of stuff he doesn't know. Most writers would take advantage of this type of predicament to make a ton of fish-out-of-water jokes as a way to poke fun at the idea of a samurai being in a futuristic "utopia" (Or, at least, in Aku's eyes, it's a utopia). Thankfully, the writers avoid that cliche. In fact, if my memory serves me right, there's only one fish-out-of-water joke in the entire series. Which I'm more than grateful for because having a character getting thrown off and confused by the world around him would have gotten old fast. But it's not just being in a future world that Jack quickly gets used to. It's also being in situations he's unfamiliar with. Whether it's learning to fit in with dance-crazed zombies or being turned into a chicken (yes, that happens), it doesn't take too long for Jack to figure out a way to get through his current crisis. It proves that even though Jack is a strong warrior in battle, he's also a strategic one who can't be so easily outsmarted.
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3. He plays off of everyone he encounters
Jack, in almost every sense of the word, is a straight man. Most of his humor comes from interacting with the bombastic temperaments of others due to his own behavior being so stoic and calm. The series accomplishes this feat by having the future world filled with colorful personalities, making almost every character the best comedic partner for Jack. Primarily through Aku and the Scottsman, who, as I mentioned before, are the only characters that make regular appearances. These are characters with personalities that clash with Jack's, what with Aku being bombastic and chaotic and the Scottsman being loud and crash. Every time Jack interacts with either of them, comedy almost always follows. A good thing too because while Jack can have his own humorous moments, it's better to pair a straight man with someone insane if you want the laughs to come frequently.
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4. He’s still a ton of fun himself!
That being said, Jack is still a riot when he gets to be. By and large, I'd say he has a dry sense of humor, often shining through when he interacts with someone carrying the chaos for the both of them. But, occasionally, there are moments when Jack lets his goofy side out, and it's always funny. They're rare, but that in itself is why they work. Because since Jack always acts so serious in this series, seeing him suddenly break that character results in a laugh because it's something we wouldn't expect from him. If he always acted like this, it wouldn't hit as hard as it would only just be his usual sense of humor. So seeing him smile like an idiot as he's waiting "for the magic to begin" causes me to bust a gut laughing each time.
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5. He lives despite tragedy
But not everything is all fun and games for our protagonist.
Jack has one goal in this series: Get back to the past and stop the future of Aku from happening. Several episodes make it clear how strenuous a task this could be, showing Jack briefly losing hope that he'll even complete it. Hell, a good chunk of the final season is him practically given up. He still fights to stop Aku's minions from wreaking havoc, but you can see that the light has left his eyes, and he is more than willing for it to end. But, despite how hard things get and how tragic his life can be, there is always a spark of hope that reminds him what he's fighting for and gives him a second wind to finish it. Even when he's at his lowest point, when everything is seemingly hopeless, Jack will always get back up to defeat Aku, no matter what timeline they're in. It is truly noble and shows just how much of a hero Jack is. In fact--
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6. He’s the definition of what a hero should be
At least, to me, he is.
What do I mean? Well, I always believe that a hero is a person who would do everything they can to do the right thing, refusing to let innocent people suffer no matter what the cost. Jack proves it in every episode, frequently the ones where he's inevitably screwed over by his own selflessness. He could easily finish his quest and finally get back to the past, but because it could mean that someone innocent would be badly affected by it, Jack always doubles back to save them. The best example is in the second episode of season two. Jack gets ahold of a fairy that he heard can grant him any wish that he wants, but it's trapped in this ball of energy and will never get out. Jack can just wish to go back to the past and stop Aku once and for all. He only needs to make one simple wish. And what does he wish for? The fairy's freedom.
Because that's who Jack is. He's not the guy who would bargain for the life of another, even if his quest is more important. You can argue all you want that if saving something as inconsequential as the fairy's life is pointless due to tragedies like it being preventable if Jack successfully goes back in time. But that doesn't matter to him. A life is a life, and Jack is not the person to trade it. He's a hero and a damn good one at that.
There are many reasons why Samurai Jack is a fantastic character, but the one above, and the others I've just listed, prove how he is a fan-frickin'-tastic character.
(Sidenote: Does it bother anyone else that, despite five full seasons, we've never known what his real name is? No? Just me? Ok.)
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nurse-buckley · 3 years
Text
I’m Coming - Part 1
Fandom: 9-1-1  Word Count: 2,453 Characters: Christopher Diaz, Eddie Diaz and Evan Buckley.  Warnings: mentions of the flu, brief descriptions of flu like symptoms and brief mentions of medicine and hospitals.  Summary: When Chris needs help, he knows he can always count on one person.  Tagslist: @firemedicdiaz​ @fireladybuckley @pupandangelscoffee @winterreader-nowwriter @dayrin085
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It was no secret that Eddie was run down. On top of the extra shifts at the firehouse, he’d been running Christopher to school and physiotherapy appointments. They had all taken their toll on the firefighter. One morning, on one of Eddie’s last days off, Chris had come down with the flu that had been going around. He’d been lucky to have a few days off with his son, but now he was due to work his next shift and he’d had to reluctantly make the decision to drop him off with Carla. Eddie didn’t want to, and when he’d left the nurses house to drop his son off, he wanted to cry just as much as Chris had. He pushed it aside however, they needed the money and there was only one 24 hour shift left before he’d have two more days off with his son. 
As the shift progressed Eddie couldn’t deny the tiredness he felt. The shift dragged and each call felt a little harder than the last. By the time he was driving to Carla’s to pick Chris up, he knew he’d caught what his son had come down with. He only hoped he hadn’t passed it to anyone at the firehouse or any of the patients he’d come into contact with. With a thank you to Carla, Eddie picked up his son, carrying his tired form, still wrapped in the blanket he’d been dropped off with and got into his car. 
“You feeling okay bud?” Eddie asked. 
Chris nodded, a small smile on his face because he was back with his dad. The young boy looked terrible, his face pale with dark circles under his eyes. Eddie would think he was worse than when he’d left him 24 hours ago, but Carla had assured him that his temperature had come down and that the grape flavoured Tylenol he’d left with was working it’s magic. 
When the pair arrived home, Eddie noticed Chris had dozed off. He moved to the back seat, careful not to wake him up. He knew he’d failed as he was met with the sleepy grin of his kid. He gathered Chris and the blanket up in his arms, before walking towards their apartment. By the time Eddie had Chris settled on the sofa, he was exhausted. He pushed the feelings aside however, to warm up the ‘flu fighter chicken noodle soup’ his abuela had dropped off for him. 
10 minutes later Eddie had two bowls of soup with a side of saltine crackers, carrying them to the sofa to settle down with his son to watch cartoons. “We’re gonna eat this, give you some more medicine and then get you to bed, mijo.” 
“The grape flavour?” 
“Yeah bud, I got the grape flavour from Carla.” 
It wasn’t long before the pair were done with their soup. Chris had begun coughing again and hadn’t had much of an appetite for the last few days anyway and Eddie had had his fill of soup and crackers as well. 
Eddie decided to let Chris rest a while longer, having fallen asleep tucked in his blankets next to him. Truth be told he was too tired himself, his body aching. After another half an hour, he felt his eyes drooping and he knew he couldn’t push himself to stay awake any longer otherwise the two would be spending the night on the sofa. 
He picked up his son, hushing him softly as he stirred in his arms. He carried the younger boy into his room, and placed him down gently on the bed. A soft laugh came from Eddie as Chris clung to him, not wanting to let go. He placed a kiss on the younger boy's head before pulling away, “sleep, hopefully you’ll feel a bit better in the morning.” 
After his son was tucked in Eddie turned on Chris’ nightlight and closed the door slightly before heading to his own room. He’d clean the plates away in the morning. The firefighter didn’t even bother changing into his pyjamas, choosing to strip down to his boxers and t-shirt before he climbed into bed himself.  
The next day Eddie awoke, his head was pounding. He’d slept in having forgotten to set his alarm. He would have slept for longer had it not been for Chris coming into his room, waking him with a gentle hand on his head. 
With a sigh Eddie had dragged himself out of bed and headed to the kitchen, preparing a bowl of cereal for Chris and a cup of coffee for himself. He needed the caffeine and the way his stomach was churning, he didn’t think he could bring himself to eat anything. 
The duo decided to have a lazy day, watching movies. By the time evening came, with the aid of more Tylenol and his abuela’s soup, Chris was feeling and looking better than he had in the last few days. 
The same, however, could not be said for Eddie. By the time he had put Chris to bed Eddie was feeling rough, thankfully the young boy had settled after one story. He felt sweaty, his throat hurting as well as his head and the cough that had started earlier that day had only gotten worse. He made a note to himself to get some Tylenol for himself the next time he made a run to the store. He rarely had it stocked, he didn’t have time to be sick between work and looking after Christopher. Right now he regretted that decision. 
Chris woke in the middle of the night, he hadn’t even remembered falling asleep. He assumed his dad must have carried him to bed and tucked him in. His throat was sore and he needed a drink, he’d usually call for his dad but with his throat so sore and his voice hoarse, he decided to climb out of bed, being sure to grab his glasses on the way. Thankful for his nightlight and the hallway light his father usually left on he made his way into his dad’s bedroom. Walking in, he noticed that his dad wasn’t in his bed, the bed unmade having not been slept in at all. 
“Dad?” he called out. 
With no response, Chris was about to make his way out to the hallway when he saw his dad on the other side of his bed, sprawled on the floor, unconscious. 
The young boy moved to his dad's side, calling his name as he moved. He fell by his dad's slumped body, shaking him gently as repeated his calls. “Dad? Daddy, wake up!” 
With no response, Chris began to worry, and then he remembered what his dad had told him. He fumbled around, feeling Eddie’s pockets until he found Eddie’s mobile. He pulled it out, having the passcode memorised, unlocked it and called the first number he could think of. 
Buck was asleep when his phone started playing his familiar ringtone. At first he thought it was his alarm, fumbling around in the dark to turn off the offending noise. After a second longer, he realised he hadn’t set his alarm, it was his day off. He turned his bedside lamp on, looking at the caller ID on his phone. Eddie. Why was Eddie calling him at 2 in the morning? 
“Hello?” 
“Buck?” A sob came through the phone. 
Any tiredness Buck was feeling was immediately replaced by worry at the sound of the panicked cry of his name on the other side of the line. 
“Chris?” 
“Buck!” 
Buck could hear the fear in the younger boy's voice, he could hear his breathing getting quicker and the sobs beginning to emanate from him. 
Buck sat upright on the side of his bed, his full attention on Christopher. “Alright, I need you to take a deep breath for me buddy, can you do that?” 
After he had guided the younger boy through a few deep breaths, Buck was able to get to figuring out what was going on. 
“Chris, what’s wrong? Where’s your dad, huh?” 
He heard Chris sob again but with more calming reassurances from Buck, he was able to calm himself enough to continue. “It’s dad. He’s laying down and won’t wake up.” 
Buck swore he felt his heart stop and his blood ran cold with fear. He bolted up right from his bed, stumbling to put on the sweatpants and hoodie that were on his floor from the previous evening. “Alright buddy, I’m gonna need you to be strong for me, okay?” 
A choked “okay” came through the line. 
“I’m on my way, but I need you to tell me if he’s breathing, can you do that for me?” The firefighter ran down the stairs, he grabbed his sneakers and keys before he made his way out of his apartment. 
With another response Buck began to explain what he needed from the young boy. “Put me on speaker okay, then I’m gonna need you to lean in close to his mouth and listen if he’s breathing, look at his chest and tell me if it’s moving.” 
Chris did as he was told, with the phone on speaker, he let Buck know he was still there. He leant in close, relieved to see his dad was still breathing. “I-I think so. I’m scared Buck.” 
Buck, now in his car, his phone coming through the speaker on his phone, let out a breath he had been holding since he’d asked Chris that question. 
“I know buddy, I’m coming. Can you tell me if his breathing is fast or slow?” 
Chris leant in once more, unsure, “I think fast?” 
“You’re doing great buddy, one more question alright? I’m nearly there,” Buck reassured. “Is your dad lying on his back or on his side?” 
“He’s on his back,” Chris announced. 
“I need you to be strong okay? I need you to try and roll your dad over onto his side, okay?” 
Buck heard the grunt over the speaker as Chris attempted to roll his dad onto his side. He let out another breath when Chris announced his success.  
Buck couldn’t help the cheer that escaped his mouth, “well done Chris, you’re doing great. I’m just pulling up now. I need you to do one more thing alright? I need you to gently lift his chin a little bit, it’ll help with his breathing.” 
Chris confirmed the manoeuvre, earning himself another round of praise from his friend. 
“I’m here Chris, I’ve got keys, so just stay with your dad.” 
Buck almost dropped the keys as he fumbled them in his hands, he moved through each key until he found the one he needed to get into the apartment.  
Chris heard the lock on the door opening. “Chris?” the younger firefighter called out. Chris could hear the lights being flicked on in the apartment as Buck made his way through the apartment. 
“Buck?” 
Following the sound of Chris’ voice, Buck ran into Eddie’s bedroom where he found the pair. His heart almost stopped at the sight of his best friend so pale and lifeless. Eddie didn’t look good and if he was honest, Chris didn’t look too much better himself. Chris was at his side, holding his dad’s hand in a death grip, his small hands almost being swallowed by Eddie’s larger ones. 
Buck knelt by Eddie’s other side, turning him onto his back, tilting his head back and leaning in close to check his breathing. It was laboured and faster than his liking, but that was to be expected with the flu. With two fingers gently pressed into his neck, Buck felt for Eddie’s pulse. He could not only feel the frantic beating under his finger tips, but also the burning of his skin. 
“Alright bud, I think your dad needs a bit more help than I can give him. We’re gonna call an ambulance alright, get him checked out at the hospital.” 
Chris sniffed a tear as he tightened the grip on his dad’s hand. “Okay.” 
Buck moved Eddie into the recovery position, ensuring his airway wasn’t compromised and his vitals were remaining stable. He pulled out his phone, he dialled 911 to explain the situation at hand. He thought about sending a message to the 118 group chat, but thought against it. He didn’t want to unnecessarily worry people until he had the full picture himself. Buck also needed to keep his focus and full attention on Chris, the kid needed him. 
Buck crawled towards Chris, wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close to his side. The firefighter turned to face the younger boy to get a better look at him. “How’re you feeling bud? You still feeling sick?” Buck placed a hand on the young boys head, feeling the warm skin there. 
Chris nodded, his lips formed into a pout as he leaned into Buck’s comforting embrace. 
The ambulance arrived not long after Buck had put the call in, he left the pair only to answer the door to let the members of the 118 who were on his opposite shifts take over. He was glad to have some familiar faces helping his friend. While the paramedics worked, Buck took Chris to his room, helping him change into some comfortable clothes and shoes. Buck decided against bringing Chris’ crutches, he wrapped him in the soft blanket from his bed and hoisted him onto his hip before meeting the paramedics at the front door. 
Eddie was now secured to a stretcher, his shirt had been cut open and wires had been attached everywhere. He had an oxygen mask securely attached to his face. He kept Chris’ head tucked into his neck, not wanting the young boy to see his dad in that condition. 
“We’ll follow you in the car,” Buck announced to the paramedics who began to carry Eddie’s stretcher out of the apartment. 
“No!” Chris squirmed in his arms, but Buck held him tight. 
He moved Chris in his arms so he could look the boy in the eyes. “Chris, we need to give the paramedics room to work, alright? Your daddy’s in good hands okay, our friends will look after him until we get to the hospital.” 
The younger boy eventually relaxed into his friend's arms. He rested his head against Buck’s shoulder, exhausted from the events of the night and the flu still draining the energy from him. The pair made their way down the stairs, following behind the paramedics. Buck let Chris watch them load Eddie into the back of the ambulance, allowing the younger boy to know his dad was in safe hands. Once the ambulance drove off, Buck strapped Chris into his car before following behind the vehicle.
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Text
You know he loves you, right?
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017) Relationship: Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera/Gyro Gearloose (Mentioned) Characters: Gyro Gearloose, Louie Duck, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera (mentioned), Boyd Gearloose Words:1135
Also Available on A03
It wasn’t often the lab was quiet anymore. After everything had happened, most of the kids had gotten somewhat anxious to go out in the city, so they commonly found themselves exploring the private buildings. The mansion had been searched for new and exciting things, the money bin cleared of all supernatural mysteries. The only place left they had to search was the lab, which hadn't been cleared out after the fight against FOWL. In fact, it had since gained a large sum of new scrap materials, rare chemicals, and half broken robots in need of repair. The kids loved it, constantly messing with old models of weapons and badly drawn treasure maps.
But now, just for a moment, it was silent. And despite how much growing Gyro had done over the past few months, learning to socialize with the others, it was nice. Even the most social people must appreciate a minute to themselves, just to think.
So, taking advantage of the silence, Gyro was found in the back of the lab, analyzing a chemical found in FOWL HQ. A low sound warned him that someone was in the elevator, and expecting it to be a child, he hid the bottles away under his desk. He didn’t need another incident like last time.
He called out to whoever was there as the door open, making sure they knew someone else was in the lab. It was purely a safety measure, those kids carry around the weirdest things and don’t often think before they attack.
“Just a minute, please don’t touch the robots today, I’ve been working on them and they’re a bit defective.”
“Um, Dr. Gearloose?”
That voice was off. It wasn’t the loud, energetic yell of a child that he was used to. There wasn’t a sudden crash as one of them used magic, even though it was explicitly banned from this area for good reason. It was quiet, and there was only one, instead of the chorus of responses that usually came when the group came down.
Upon taking off his gloves and turning towards the elevator door, he saw he was correct. It wasn’t all of them. Standing awkwardly near the door was Louie, one hand hidden in his hoodie while the other pressed buttons on a small cube in his hand.
“Ah, Green Nephew, where are the others? You guys don’t normally travel alone anymore.”
“They’re up in the mansion, but Fenton drove me over, said he was supposed to head here soon anyway.”
“Here? He was here until 3AM last night, I told him to stay home. I even hid his car keys. God why is he so stubborn?”
“Uh, Gyro? I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have to get back to the others soon before they get worried.” The triplet looked up from his phone.
“Of course, my apologies. Now, how can I help you? I’m afraid I can’t give you anymore chemicals until I’m sure how they’ll affect Lena and Violet’s magic fields. Stupid magic, I don’t understand what’s so special. Science is sure, uniform, certain. Magic is too risky.”
He trailed off, having walked over to Fenton’s desk to check on the progress he’s made on one of the robots.
“That’s fine, I actually just wanted to ask you a question.”
“No, I am not doing your homework. Della got mad enough last time, and I don’t want to hear it again-”
“Why do you think you’re a bad parent?” He hadn’t meant to ask that way, and when he did he froze, his hands fidgeting with the cube again.
“What did you just say?” What does that even mean? Where did he get that from?
“I see how you act around BOYD. You look like Mom after she got back. Like you’re scared or something.” He said simply, watching the chicken’s expression closely to see if he’d gone too far. Instead of anger, his expression was just blank, and he stayed quiet for a minute before answering.
“I do my best with BOYD. And yes, sometimes I feel as if I’m not doing enough. However, that is none of your concern. You’re a child, go have fun, please.” Gyro’s tone was short, as if trying not to get angry. His hands had stilled on the machinery he was holding.
Of course he was scared. Scared and confused as to why BOYD tolerated him, let alone trusted him enough to take care of him after what happened. Gyro had abandoned him. That was a fact. He left him in a desperate attempt to get away. Away from the city, away from Akita... away from BOYD. Some stupid plan to save his own reputation, willing to sacrifice someone he’d sworn to protect. And even after all that, BOYD forgave him? It didn’t make sense. It wasn’t logical, and it definitely wasn’t deserved.
“Listen, I’m not good with stuff like this. Honestly I think any of the others would’ve been better suited for this, but I’m here, so you’ll have to-” He stopped, shaking his head to regain his thoughts. “Sorry, rambling. What I’m trying to say if that you’re a good Dad, Dr. Gearloose, whether you like it or not.”
“And how could you possibly know that?” Gyro questioned, hands starting to shake. It was a serious question. He wanted to know. He needed to.
“The way he talks about you.” It was the truth, so he didn’t understand why the scientist looked so surprised.
“BOYD... talks about me?” He asked quietly, voice shaking. In return, the child laughed.
“Of course he does! He’s always telling us about how you teach him how to interact with others, even though you’re not the best at it yourself. I couldn’t tell you how many times he’s told us about his first flight test with you back in Tokyolk. All his favourite stories are with you. He really loves you.”
In the midst of his rant, Louie had made his way over to Gyro, who was now staring intently at the floor. At that distance it was visible that, for the first time since coming out to him, Gyro Gearloose was crying.
“Gyro... you okay?”
He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. “I’m alright, Louie. Thank you, really.”
“Of course. BOYD is your child, but not because you built him. He’s your child because he wants to be. He chose you. I think you just need to remember that sometimes.”
BOYD chose him...
“You’re right, Louie. And I can’t promise that I won’t forget that again, but I’m going to try. For him.”
“Hey, don’t even worry. If you do forget, I’ll remind you. But talks like actually make me super uncomfortable so maybe I’ll just hit you next time or something.”
“Yeah, that’d be preferable.”
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senorarelojes · 3 years
Text
Pizzaverse artwork and ficlet: 'A Little Piece'
@maiyashu made this really cute and beautiful Instagram post of Pizzaverse Dave being silly and drawing little monsters/creatures on the notes he leaves for Alan and their kids around the house. Of course, Alan shows off his husband's work on Instagram. Under the artwork is an accompanying ficlet set in the future for the Pizzaverse timeline. Thank you dear Shu for your gorgeous (and funny) artwork! Happy Father's Day to the boys!
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Title: A Little Piece Pairing: Dave/Alan Rating: General Tags: Pizzaverse, Kid Fic, Fluff
Dave was always amused whenever Alan teased him about being the one in their relationship who was more addicted to social media. It seemed they were both on an even keel; Alan posted more often, while Dave had a variety of accounts across various platforms that he’d lost interest in after the initial posting frenzy. They had their different addictions too: Dave liked the spontaneity of Twitter and TikTok, while Alan for some reason preferred Facebook and Reddit. But Instagram was their common vice, and most of their friend circle were on it as well.
Before fatherhood, Dave had imagined that his use of social media would dwindle because he simply wouldn’t have the time. But instead he’d found the opposite to be true: now he wanted to post about Alan, Paris and Stella all the time, and he didn’t even care if no one outside their family and a few chosen friends would find it cute.
Of course, both Dave and Alan took care to obscure the faces of their daughters. But the adorable things they did were up for grabs: Paris’ first steps, then followed by Stella’s in a few years. Their first stuffed toys. Their first drawings. Dave shamelessly spammed his IG feed with various pictures and videos, and refused to feel bad about it because Martin was doing the same with his kids, and so was Fletch, who seemed convinced that his daughter was a maths prodigy.
Of course, Dave posted pictures of Alan on his feed as well. Naturally his husband was usually included if it was a picture or video with one of the girls, such as Alan helping Paris with her homework or feeding Stella at dinnertime. But sometimes Dave saved a few precious shots he’d snuck on his phone, like Alan frowning at the computer in his tiny makeshift home studio, or stealing a rare moment after the girls had gone to bed to listen to one of the many records he owned. Those didn’t get as many likes and comments as anything Dave posted of the girls, but he didn’t care much.
In truth, Dave would have probably gone on like this if Alan hadn’t taken him aside one night and asked him why he’d stopped posting pictures of his art. “My art?” Dave echoed, genuinely surprised that Alan had been keeping track because Dave certainly hadn’t.
“Yeah, your paintings.” Alan gestured towards Dave’s most recent effort, which was a white cat posing regally by a candle. Even that had been painted more than a year ago, before Stella had come into their lives. “You don’t really post them anymore. Or paint much more, for that matter.”
Dave just kept staring at Alan in astonishment. When they had gotten married and subsequently made the decision to become parents via surrogacy, it had been pretty much an unspoken agreement between them that family and work would have higher priority. This meant their hobbies were naturally the first thing to be sacrificed for time, and Dave had been fine with that. They hadn’t touched the band in years, not since the last time everyone had performed at Martin’s wedding.
But now Dave realised that he missed painting with an ache like a phantom limb, like something that had always been a part of him was now oddly missing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d picked up a paintbrush for the hell of it. Everything he’d designed or illustrated over the past year had solely been for work, and that thought pained him like a spike through his solar plexus.
In contrast, Alan - who had always been very driven and disciplined - seemed to have no problem reviving his interests in mixing and composing after Stella had started sleeping at more regular hours. So Dave didn't even have the excuse of fatherhood.
“You should pick it up again,” Alan told him with a gentle squeeze of his hand, before moving on to the topic of Father’s Day, which was coming up. Dave just nodded distractedly when Alan suggested ordering in brunch from a nice restaurant, still preoccupied with thoughts of Alan’s mind-blowing revelation.
After that conversation with Alan, Dave decided to try and carve out time for painting. Although that wasn’t always possible, he did want to show Alan he was trying, so he started with small gestures. If he left reminders and post-its for Alan around the house, he’d be sure to draw a funny cartoon to accompany his loopy handwriting, like a sentient postbox (to remind Alan to go to the post office) or a funny caricature of Martin and Fletch (to ask Alan if he wanted to have dinner and catch up with them).
Alan never really mentioned the little drawings beyond an amused eye-roll, but Dave knew Alan was never particularly verbose about his true sentiments anyway. Dave had learned to look towards Alan’s actions instead. Sure enough, Alan started taking pictures of Dave’s little drawings and posting them on Instagram with an accompanying dry and witty caption, along with the hashtag ‘#artisthusband’. To Dave’s surprise, it really took off among their friends and other family members, and Dave always had to fend off demands from his mum and Sue about more cute artwork everytime he called home.
Since Paris and Stella loved the drawings too, he started drawing little monsters for them on their paper lunch bags, which he would prepare for them before Alan would drop them off at daycare. It wasn’t long before Alan started posting these on Instagram too, and his comment section would get animated at times because Martin, Fletch, Paul, Daryl and the rest would start discussing which creature Dave had meant to draw. He didn’t have the heart to tell them he’d made them all up on the spot.
Having Alan’s support like this, even for his silly little drawings, was more fulfilling and touching than Dave had expected. So he’d really meant it when he said he was going to get art supplies, but more often than not Dave would get distracted and buy Elsa colouring books for the girls instead. Alan hadn’t said anything at all, but Dave knew how to read him pretty well by now. His husband was definitely planning something.
On the morning of Father’s Day, Dave was the first out of bed so he put in the order at the restaurant before going for a run in Hyde Park. His metabolism wasn’t what it used to be, and he’d gotten into the habit of eating off the girls’ plates whenever they couldn’t finish their food. Alan was a really good cook too, so Dave knew he had to fit in a run today if he was going to be feasting on french toast and eggs benedict for Father’s Day.
When he got home, he thought he spotted Alan in the study with a giggling Paris and Stella. “Hello, my loves,” he yelled out at the door, even more mystified when Alan quickly stepped out of the study with the girls, closing the door hurriedly behind them.
“The food’s just got delivered, I’ll set the table,” Alan told him with a too-bright smile. ‘You go shower first, yeah?”
Dave decided to let his suspicious behaviour go for now. “Alright, sure.” He loped over to where they were, giving Alan a brief kiss and a I’m-on-to-you squint before bending down to stretch his arms out to the girls. “Can I get a hug first?”
“Daddy’s stinky!” Paris protested laughingly, while an uncomprehending Stella just giggled along with her older sister.
Dave’s jaw dropped in mock outrage. “Stinky, am I? How about I make you stinky too, huh?” He pretended to chase a squealing Paris and Stella for a hug, laughing when they ran to hide behind an amused Alan’s legs.
“Just go shower, the food’s getting cold, you lunatic.” Alan shook his head at Dave with a grin before shepherding the girls to the dining area. Dave left him to it, washing up quickly so he could join his family for breakfast.
However, he wasn’t expecting to find Alan and the girls waiting for him outside the bedroom, all of them grinning innocently at him. “What’s going on?” a suspicious Dave asked.
Paris took his hand and tugged him to the study, Alan picking up Stella and following with her in his arms. When Paris pushed open the door, Dave stared in shock at the brand new easel waiting for him, along with the art supplies neatly piled on top of a blank canvas. He stepped forward, picking up the paints and brushes with trembling hands. Alan had gotten everything right, remembered every detail from when Dave used to paint before they’d gotten married and become fathers.
“I had to take a bit out of the holiday budget for this,” came Alan’s soft voice behind him. “But it’s worth it for me to delay our trip. I’d rather see you painting again.”
“We want more of Daddy’s paper monsters!” Paris declared gleefully, while Stella stared at all of them in bafflement.
“I--” Dave just couldn’t speak. His heart was so full, like it was going to overflow with joy and sentiment and his overwhelming love for his family. There were simply no words that could possibly encapsulate the emotions warring within him now, so instead he grabbed Alan and the girls to him in a tight hug, his breaths ragged and his eyes wet.
“Happy Father’s Day,” Alan said quietly, the smile evident in his voice even though Dave couldn’t quite see his face.
“You too, Al.” Dave pulled away to kiss him, then smothered his squealing girls with equal affection.
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vicennon · 3 years
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(long post ahead just completely fucking skip this if you don't wanna read my subjective opinion on literally every single flavor of sans in the universe)
introducing the vi scale of touch-repulsed vs. touch-starved sanses
big number = more touchy
small number = no touchy
Nightmare - Is outright disgusted if you try to hold his hand but will tolerate it for five seconds at a time before flinging you into the sun (He feels like Gak anyway)
Dream - Village treatment lead to a lot of hugs and physical affection, so he's not necessarily opposed to the occasional hug or kiss - but not especially receptive. He'll hug you back, but try not to overwhelm him. He likes to have his space respected. (It's not because he dislikes you! He just doesn't... feel like it!)
Ink - Will taunt you for trying anything with him other than the occasional hug unless it is all prompted by himself. Teases a lot if you complain. (ex. "Wow, you're a simp!" "Jeez, we're a little touchy today!" "Gross, cooties!" "Are you trying to give me the cheese touch...?")
Error - Is neutral with close proximity, but it takes him a long time to grow adjusted at all. Strongly prefers not to touch at all, and will only ever initiate very rarely. If you commentate on it, he'll become very upset and draw away. (Being that he has haphephobia, it's a little iffy putting him on the list at all, considering that his condition would wholeheartedly affect his touch sensitivity. I usually write his haphephobia as painful and anxiety-inducing, so I'm basing this purely on personality and his experience with haphephobia.)
Fell/Red - He's not... opposed. Just neutral. But like... that's not an invitation. Can easily get irritated if you try to touch him too often without his permission. Does accept cuddles.
Swap/Blue - The perfectly room temperature touch-oriented person. A true neutral. But leans towards being more receptive towards physical affection. He's more into cooking or time spent together as a display of affection, though.
Dust - On the same level of neutrality as Swap, but is further inclined towards a consistent hand-holding experience. Can come off as a little bit clingy if you're squinting. He likes to be close, or nearby - to feel your body heat or to just brush his hand against yours. Is afraid of rejection or coming off too clingy, so he often restrains himself and gives others the impression that he hates being touched.
Fresh - Almost true neutral, but leans towards being more receptive. I wanted to put him on the more touch-repulsed end of the scale, but I think he could probably fluctuate quite a bit between wanting and being upset by unsolicited touching. When he's in the mood, he'll be very physically affectionate and lounge all over you. With his height, it's easy to sling his arms around you and waddle around behind you. However, when he's not in the mood to be touched, he'll express it very visibly and become uncomfortable. He's more often receptive than not.
Horror - Seems like he'd kind of be a hug bear or something, but just takes whatever he can get. Like a black hole. If you decide you want to sit on the couch and hug him for several hours, he'll stay right there and enjoy it.
Sans/Classic - Same deal as Horror - but with more sloth involved. Will initiate contact by dragging you into the clutches of the soft and cozy couch like an octopus. Sits on people to keep them from moving, much like a very boney housecat. Mildly inconveniences everyone who crosses his path.
Fellswap/Swapfell - (There's so many variations, I'm sorry FS/SF fans) Generally neutral, but receptive and likes to flick you. Pinches you if you're distracted. Enjoys hugs but doesn't like to hold them for too long. He has too many things to do right now!! If you try to keep him in one place for an extended period of time, he'll grow very irritated and flail about like a fish. He is physically capable of throwing you out a window, don't irk him.
Outer - Is extremely chilled out and a great pillow. Couch time 24/7. Becomes comfortable literally anywhere. He doesn't initiate often if ever, but likes to hold your hand a lot. Can stay holding it for half the day, if you let him.
G - Likes to be casually touchy, but if you commentate on it, he'll get even more touchy. Like a reverse anemone. It's partially to inconvenience you, and partially because he's smug and possessive. (ex. "G, I have to go get my order from the counter, you gotta let go of me." "Oh?" G proceeds to cling, making you drag him with you to the McDonald's cash register. It's embarrassing the first few times, but you can tell him to knock it off and he'll listen.)
Lust - He's a very physically affectionate person - all cheek kisses and absentminded holds, or slinging an arm around your waist to dance with you while you chat. If you let him, he'll carry you around completely unbothered. Fireman carry, over the shoulder, under the arm like a sack of potatoes, holding you like a koala - he's deceptively strong.
Dance - Also a very physically affectionate and deceptively strong person; likes to have his hands innocently placed somewhere on your person. Kind of like he's waiting to start ballroom dancing at any moment, or to throw you into a spin when he's looking for some entertainment. Likes to stand hip-to-hip with an arm around your waist. Slings his arm around your shoulder a lot.
Farmer - Same deal as Horror, but is far more consistent and casual with his touching. Enjoys doing the "wrap from behind" thing, like a backwards hug. If you're both walking to the same spot, he'll take your hand and swing it around wildly to make you laugh. He also likes to hip bump you and give tiny little kisses anywhere he can reach easily.
Epic - Same deal as Sans/Classic - but initiates more often! Surprise hug! Surprise hand grab! Surprise secret handshake! Surprise... kiss? Often devolves into meme-ish shenanigans afterward, like going in for a romantic moment to fake you out with a rubber chicken.
Killer - Is very comfortable with touching and comes off as clingy sometimes. He likes to put his stinky socks in your lap if you're on the couch, or use people as pillows when there's space for him to be touching them. If you're shorter than him, he'll make himself comfortable putting all his weight on your upper half so you might fall over. He'll laze around anywhere and purposefully seeks out people who have things to do and pin them to the floor so he can absorb the body heat out of them. Wildly inconveniences everyone he sees. Will invade your room to take up your entire bed.
Cross - Acts like he doesn't need anyone or any hugs or whatever. "Psshh, who needs hand-holding..." But he's so touch-starved that just being close to him makes him get all gross and gooey inside. Brushes that off too. "Pshh, I'm Cross, I'm too cool for hugs and kisses... but maybe just this once..." Also, he has a body pillow of his idol (who is anyone - cartoon superhero, popstar, his boss, his boss's brother, etc. etc.) Outright denies that he needs you to hold his hand, but only pushes anyone away if someone else is looking. If you're casual with him, he'll slowly start seeking out physical affection like a very shy fish.
i can't think of anyone else right now so send an ask if you want to hear about whoever else you got on the mind
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boxoftheskyking · 3 years
Text
Pick Up Every Piece, Part Five
In which we have a scene at the bar
Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four
--
Early November 2000
When Jiang Cheng comes to the bar on his own, he lets Wei Ying watch his back. Which is to say, he sits at the bar and doesn’t spend the whole time half-turned to keep an eye on the door. When Jin Zixuan joins them, he hangs by the corner of the bar by the weird old poker machine that hasn’t worked in years, and he mostly avoids eye contact.
“Hey Zixuan,” Wei Ying says, grinning. “How’s your cousin?”
“Hm?” He’s so polite, always, in a snobby kind of way. Like he knows he’s better than you, but he’s far too well-bred to admit it. Wei Ying sometimes wonders if he got that from his mother. Wei Ying has never really spoken to Mrs. Jin outside of an awkward few minutes at the wedding, but what he knows of the rest of the family is far more in the “knows they’re better than you and will tell you to your face” camp.
“Your cousin, you know.” He winks at Jiang Cheng. “It’s the liiiiiife of the Jin!”
Jiang Cheng joins in, “What’s going down in Lanling—”
“Cut it out!” Zixuan reaches out like he’s going to cover Jiang Cheng’s mouth, but he doesn’t. 
“It’s catchy!” Jiang Cheng giggles. It’s a gratifying sight.
“That show should be outlawed,” Zixuan says darkly.
“It’s genius,” Wei Ying argues, drinking in the two of them there, together. “Nie Huaisang is a visionary.”
“I’m going to have him imprisoned. He’s a curse.”
“He’s a genius. It’s a totally new art form.”
Jiang Cheng snorts. “Art form. It’s boring. I like seeing Jin Zixun humiliated as much as anyone, but it’s just rich people sitting around being stupid and rich.”
“It’s reality, but also pure escapism. It’s brilliant.”
“It’s a threat to national security,” Zixuan says. Wei Ying cackles.
Jiang Cheng makes a face. “There’s no story! There’s no, like, script.”
“There is a story! It’s all how Huaisang edits it.” Wei Ying hasn’t actually talked to Nie Huaisang in years, so he’s not that personally invested, but he can’t resist the chance to disagree with both Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan at the same time.
Zixuan slides his glass over for a refill. “Zixun is never going to get a real job. He has no skills, he can’t do anything useful, so he sits around and has cameras follow him? It’s a disgrace.”
“It’s the most watched show in the country. I watch it every week.”
Jiang Cheng intercepts Zixuan’s glass to steal a sip. “That’s because you also don’t have a real job.”
“Serve yourself then, asshole.”
“We don’t watch reality TV, we work. We’re civil servants.”
“I’ve written six columns on The Life of Jin, I’ll have you know. So it is my job. And I’m more of a civil servant than you, I barely make any money.” It earns him a pair of eyerolls, but they won’t insult the paper to his face. Not anymore. “I can’t believe they made you both work today.” It’s the wrong thing to say, and Wei Ying covers his wince to fill a row of pints.
“Yeah, well.” Zixuan scratches the back of his neck. He keeps his hair a bit long, like Jiang Cheng does, but on him it feels like a memorial. “Five years. I guess I can’t keep getting time off forever.”
Jiang Cheng is drumming his fingers on the bar, looking away.
“Five years to the day, though,” Wei Ying offers. He leans in, almost wanting to touch . . . something, then twirls away to ring someone up. He feels like a bird, a swallow, dipping and soaring and coming in close for a moment before getting scared back up to a tree top.
When he comes back the tension has receded.
“Dad wants me to move over to the business side of things,” Zixuan is saying.
“Leave intelligence?” Jiang Cheng’s brow furrows, clearly already imagining following his brother-in-law over to the corporate hellhole of Jin Industries.
“Yeah. He keeps talking about the CEO gig, as if I’m qualified.”
“No offense,” Wei Ying says, “but your dad has never been big on qualified.”
“What about Guangyao?” Jiang Cheng asks.
“He’s not the face Dad wants for the company. I don’t know, it’s like during the war, he’s staying back in his lab and his back office, tinkering with stuff. Dad wants a stupid— A face. You know, dynasty bullshit.”
“Like those propaganda posters.” Wei Ying grins at him. “That noble profile. I had one on my bedroom wall.”
“Don’t be creepy.” Jiang Cheng goes to smack him, but he ducks away. “You did not.”
“It wasn’t propaganda.” Zixuan sighs, having lost this argument before.
“It was good propaganda,” Jiang Cheng argues.
Wei Ying keeps his thoughts to himself, for once. He doesn’t comment on Jin Guangyao, either, though he could. A drunk girl yells at him from the other side of the bar, which helps.
“But like—” Zixuan takes a long gulp, spinning his fingers in frustration, looking for the words. “This is what I trained for. I joined the army at eighteen. I was in the army when it was just prison security and diplomatic escorts. My degree is decoration, and he knows that. It’s an art piece on the office wall, it doesn’t mean anything. I don’t know how I’m supposed to just become this business guy. It’s like— He doesn’t actually know me, who I am, what I’m good at. He just expects me to work wherever he plugs me in, to just be the best at whatever he thinks I should be the best at. I’m already the best at something. Right? I’m too old to be the best at something else.”
Wei Ying shrugs in sympathy. “Welcome to your thirties, eh?”
Jiang Cheng drains his glass, his third already. “He wants you to be a liquid.”
“What?”
“He thinks you’re a liquid. Your dad. Fit the shape of your container.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m not a fucking liquid.”
Jiang Cheng points at him. “That’s right. You’re not a fucking liquid.”
“I’m a solid.”
“You’re solid as shit, man.” Jiang Cheng pounds on Zixuan’s chest, and he winces slightly.
It’s nine o’clock, so Wei Ying decides he gets to pour himself a whiskey. He puts an orange slice in it, for vitamins.
Jin Zixuan looks into his own glass, thoughtfully. “Although, I mean. What’s a liquid without a container? Just a puddle, right?”
“Or a river,” Jiang Cheng says. They pause to contemplate rivers.
“What kind of liquid would you be?” Wei Ying asks, watching the gold of his liquor swirl around the melting ice cubes and the orange peel.
Zixuan huffs a laugh. “I don’t know. What do you think?”
“Vegetable soup,” Wei Ying says, then winces again.
“Soup,” Jiang Cheng agrees, quietly.
“Yeah,” Zixuan says. “Soup.”
They stare down into their glasses, drink.
“That reminds me,” Zixuan says, rallying after a long moment and pulling his fancy silver business card holder out of his breast pocket. “I got a new number.”
He hands Wei Ying a classy white card. It’s not his government one, just his phone number and his new email. Of course Jin Zixuan would have a personal business card, printed up by a printing company somewhere.
“Did you get rid of the old phone?” Wei Ying asks, carefully. Jiang Cheng looks between them, also careful, saying nothing.
“No, I just had to— I moved it to the basement. I can’t keep . . . The answering machine is still hooked up to the old one. I’ll still wipe the tape, so you can call—”
“Thanks.” We don’t talk about it. Let’s keep not talking about it. Wei Ying rinses a glass that’s already clean.
“If you want. It’s not a problem. I just can’t keep—”
“Yeah.” He wipes the glass, too quickly, the damp microfiber squeaks a little.
“A-Ling gets confused. He hears you say her name, you say ‘Jiejie,’ and he—”
“Yeah, I get it, no problem.” Wei Ying rinses the glass again.
“You can call me, though.” Jin Zixuan is looking at him, which he rarely actually does right in the face, horribly earnest. “You know that. You can call the new number and talk to him, or to me.”
“I know. I will.” He probably won’t. He looks over at Jiang Cheng, who’s chewing on his lip. Yanli would scold him for that, say that’s why it keeps chapping, worse now that it’s getting colder. He doesn’t leave her messages, Wei Ying doesn’t think. He doesn’t need crutches like that, he straps the anger onto himself like steel braces and gets on with things, limping.
Wei Ying would like to be angry, especially today on the five year anniversary. Five full years without her. That would be a comfort, such a relief, to be angry. But he doesn’t get to be angry when Jiang Cheng is around.
Jiang Cheng clears his throat. “I can’t believe your dad allows Zixun to do that show.”
Zixuan draws himself up, sucking in a breath like he’s coming out of water. “He must get something from it. Like some kind of PR or something.”
Wei Ying goes into the back and carries out a case of wine and a case of cider, loads them into the cooler. It takes a while, he has to pull things out so the warm bottles go in the back. He can vaguely hear his brothers insulting Jin Zixun and the state of modern television, keeping it light. He stares at the label on a bottle of cider—it’s an apple with a face, one of those unnerving cartoon faces where all the teeth are the same size and shape. No one’s teeth look like that.
He shuts the cooler and returns.
“If Zixun looks like a fool,” Wei Ying says thoughtfully, interrupting them like he’s supposed to, “then he’s mostly harmless. He’s a goofball. It must be useful for the great and powerful Jin to have a goofball side. It makes you look less, I don’t know . . .” He could say a lot of things. He could say things like tyrannical or despotic or calculating or morally questionable. He doesn’t say any of it, just waves his hands around.
Zixuan looks like he hears the words anyway, and as usual, he stares out across the bar. “He’s a sacrifice, I suppose. Zixun. He’s always been the spare.”
“Do you think he knows he’s being played?” Jiang Cheng asks. “Would he keep doing it if he knew?”
“My dad,” Zixuan says slowly. “Doesn’t play Go. Metaphorically speaking. Not like A-Yao does. But he does play poker. Zixun—” he spins the glass between his hands. “Zixun plays hopscotch. Badly.”
Wei Ying snorts, and it feels nice.
“I guess I don’t like the show so much anymore,” he says, pouting.
“Good,” Jiang Cheng reaches out and flicks his ear. Wei Ying lets him.
“Why does everything have to be nefarious?” Wei Ying whines, meaning reality TV but also Jiang Cheng and his mean fingers “Can’t we have something that’s just dumb? Aren’t we there, as a country, where we can just have stupid shit that’s stupid and doesn’t mean anything?”
“You mean besides you, and also your face?” Jiang Cheng asks. Zixuan sighs at them in a judgmental way.
Wei Ying taps his chin. “Although, there’s a column there. The insidious political machinations of so-called reality.” He hits the button to roll out some receipt paper and makes a few notes.
“I just don’t get why he does it,” Jiang Cheng muses. “He has to know he looks bad. Right? Like, he has to.” As if everyone is as pathologically obsessed with their public appearance as you are, which is something Wei Ying does not say. “It’s not like he needs the money.”
As always, that’s its own flavor of uncomfortable. Zixuan makes more money than Jiang Cheng, and has a trust fund on top of it. He keeps trying to make it up by buying expensive presents and starting a tab wherever they go, but Jiang Cheng won’t take it. He used to, back when Zixuan was just their shitty rich brother-in-law, or Yanli’s shitty rich boyfriend. He used to call it “Yanli’s dowry” when he’d leave his birthday dinner with a new stereo or a nice watch. Now that they’re friends, though, he gets pissed off. He’ll get mad if Zixuan buys him a hardcover instead of a paperback, now that they’re friends. He’s a complicated man. So is Zixuan, in his way.
That’s probably why they get along so well, and why Wei Ying is always a half a step off of their weird masculine choreography. Wei Ying fancies himself a complicated man, but it’s different. He’s in control in a way they don’t seem to be, not of his life but of his face and his voice and his sentence structure. It makes him a good reporter.
They, on the other hand, have always been good soldiers.
Wei Ying had cried when Jiang Cheng enlisted, mid-’93. 
“You watch too many war movies,” he’d said, looking down at this lap, twisting his hands together, face hot and heart racing. “It won’t be like that, A-Cheng, there’s not any glory in it, it’ll just be horrible—”
“It’s the right thing to do.” Jiang Cheng had been stubborn as always, chin jutting out. “Wen Chao’s last attack—I can’t just sit here.”
Yanli hadn’t cried at all, she’d just looked between them, silent.
“Why don’t you come too?”Jian Cheng had asked him, eyes like a six-year-old. “You’d be good at it. We could do it together.”
“No, I gotta— Someone’s gotta report on all your heroics, right?” Wei Ying had been sweating, panicked, chills running down his arms, blowing his nose again and again. “Maybe I’ll get an assignment so I can follow you around and sing about your adventures. Like something out of those ancient poems, right?”
He’d been wrong about his role in the war, but more right than he’d be able to guess about ancient poetry. Because cultivation was real. Magic was real, and his brother was somehow mixed up in it.
He got drunk with Yanli the week after the first cultivator battle. The first battle with the new cultivator corps. Zixuan, Jiang Cheng, Lan Zhan, Mianmian, and the others.
“You husband is a wizard,” Wei Ying had said, slurring.
“Your brother is a wizard.” Yanli had flicked a sunflower seed into his lap. 
That was her secret: when Yanli got drunk she could go through two bags of sunflower seeds by herself. She got the cheap ones from the gas station on the corner and split them with her teeth, scattering shells everywhere like a little disaster zone. She’d clean up all the evidence in the morning, before anyone woke up. She was almost never hungover. 
Wei Ying loved that about her, the evidence she left, her secret messiness. He’d catch a stray shell in the corner, behind a potted plant or caught in the fringe of an area rug, and he’d get so rocked with love—violent, breathless love for her—that his vision would go spotty. 
Or maybe that’s just how he remembers it, now that she’s gone.
“Actually, he’s your brother too,” Wei Ying had said at the time, poking her nose. “Your husband and your brother are both wizards. So what does that make you?”
“Well, there’s Lan Zhan. You’re blushing, see, you’re blushing. And Mianmian. They’re your—”
“Friends.”
“Yeah, but you kissed both of them.”
Wei Ying had stuck out his tongue at her, or done something equally childish.
She’d cracked a sunflower seed and popped it into her mouth. “We could be wizards if we wanted to.”
“Oh, yeah, definitely”
“We just aren’t.”
“We’re busy.”
“We are busy people.”
Wei Ying is shaken out of the memory by a pint glass slamming down on the bar, just missing Jiang Cheng’s elbow. It’s Li Wangcheng, youngest son of his usual source, Li Riseung.
“Fill ‘er up, asshole,” Li Wangcheng says, listing into his buddies on either side. Jiang Cheng and Jin Zixuan are both looking at him with equally disdainful nose wrinkles. “Chop chop.”
Wei Ying sighs. “Sorry, Wangcheng, you’re cut off. I already over-served you, and I promised your dad and your brother I wouldn’t.”
“Fuck you.”
“Your liver can’t take it. Here, have some water and go sit down.”
“Fuck you, Wei Ying. Fuck you.” He’s pushing off his friends, leaning over the bar with his tobacco-stained teeth and his mix-of-alcohol breath.
“Yeah, yeah,” Wei Ying moves away, wiping down the counter, and Wangcheng follows.
“I’ll fucking kill you. You watch your back, bitch, I’ll fucking find you, and I’ll kill you.”
Wei Ying puts up his hands. “Okay, man, take it easy.”
“I know where you live. I know where you park your bike. Your stupid little fucking— Your stupid bike.”
His two biggest friends start pulling at his elbow, pulling him away. He shakes them off.
“Don’t think I won’t. Don’t think I won’t find you, motherfucker.”
Jiang Cheng is off his stool, now, and Zixuan is moving around behind him, coming in to engage. Wei Ying waves them off, desperately. Wen Ning is leaving his spot by the door.
“When you leave tonight, you better—”
“The fuck did you say?” Jiang Cheng is up in his face, now, and Wei Ying has to come out from behind the bar. He hates leaving the bar, it’s his comfortable place to be.
“Leave it. A-Cheng, A-Xuan, leave it, leave it.” He gets himself between them all, holding his brother back. Wen Ning has a good hold on Wangcheng’s shoulders.
“Fuck you.” That sprays a bit in his face, the plosive. “Everything was fine before you came here. Yiling was fine before you came here, and then everything went to shit.”
“That’s not—” Jiang Cheng tries to butt in, but Wei Ying sticks an elbow in his gut.
“I said, leave it.”
“Fucking worthless,” Wangcheng spits at him, and Wen Ning and his friends haul him back towards the door. “Fucking demon. You’re a fucking demon, Wei Ying! Fucking cursed!”
Wen Ning throws them out, and the silence following is awkward, no one looking at each other. Wei Ying wipes his face, straightens Jiang Cheng’s shirt collar, and goes back to work. There’s a short woman standing there, frozen, holding out her empty glass. He gets her another gin and cranberry, pleased that he remembered, and she gives him a pitying kind of smile. He hides his hands down by his sides, but he knows she’s seen them. Everyone can see them; he doesn’t cover them.
“Holy shit,” Jiang Cheng says, still staring back at the door.
“Yeah. Never mind.” Wei Ying readjusts his t-shirt.
“Never mind? That was a death threat. For what, cutting him off?”
“Forget about it.”
“For cutting him off? What the fuck?”
“A-Cheng, forget it.”
“I’m not gonna forget it, that guy knows where you live.”
“It’s fine, it happens. Leave it. Please? Leave it.”
Jiang Cheng sits down. Zixuan says nothing, looking between Jaing Cheng and the door.
“Does it happen a lot?” Jiang Cheng is interrogating, intelligence-mode.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Wei Ying, does it happen a lot?”
“I mean, a bit. Okay?”
“For cutting—?”
“It’s not about cutting him off. It’s not about that. It’s not about me. Calm down.”
“Sure sounded like it’s about you. ‘Demon,’ really—”
“If it wasn’t me it would be someone else. Wen Ning. His friends. His dad.” Wei Ying chops more limes than he needs to, calmed by the sharpness of the knife. “He’s dying. Actually dying, everyone knows it. His liver is shot. He’s been laid off for months, and he can’t pay for any more treatment. His dad’s broke, mom died in the war. He’s lashing out.”
“But that’s not your—”
“You can’t swing at the clouds forever. Right? He’s not the only one. People feel good here, they feel comfortable here, and so they can hit someone here if they need to. You get beaten down and beaten down for year after year, eventually you have to fight back. Right? Otherwise what are you?” What am I? he doesn’t ask.
Zixuan clears his throat, still not looking at him. “What’s the use of fighting you? You’re not—”
Wei Ying laughs at him, mean. “What’s he gonna do, fight your dad? The whole fucking government? Who can he hit? After a while, you have to hit something or you’ll go mad. You have to make contact. Right?” He chops another lime. “You have to have an effect on something. You have to hit someone and see the bruise, or yell at someone and see them flinch. Otherwise it’s like you don’t exist at all. You’re already dead.”
“Wei Ying,” Zixuan says it, which is a surprise. He almost never says his name.
“Somewhere like this, somewhere like Yiling, all you can reach is the guy next to you. Once they put the crabs in the bucket, they put the lid on.”
The chatter in the bar is back, which is nice since there’s an awkward silence between the three of them. Wei Ying puts the chopped limes into the cooler and washes the cutting board, washes the knife. He replaces a drink at the other end of the bar earlier than he normally would—the guy is only halfway through, but he nods a thanks.
“What about—” Zixuan starts, hesitant. “Wei Ying, what about police?”
“Ha!” Wei Ying snaps it at him, not a laugh, not at all. “Don’t you— You don’t come here, into my bar, talking about police.”
“I didn’t come in talking about police, I’m just saying—”
“No cops in Yiling.” He shuts a cooler with his heel, a satisfying slam. “Cops are military, and the military hates Yiling.”
Zixuan bristles. “No, we don’t.”
He always does this. It’s one of the things Wei Ying can’t process about him, and one of the reasons they’ve never been close and probably never will be. It’s always “we.” The Jins, the government, the military. Wei Ying can like him if he doesn’t see Jin Guangshan, if he doesn’t see Jin Guangyao, if he doesn’t see the war when he looks at him. But then he comes in with the “we.”
It’s probably sad, actually, how long he’s been a soldier. How much of him is wrapped up in being his dad’s perfect soldier.
Wei Ying bites his tongue, takes a breath. “Of course you do. Everyone in charge hates Yiling.”
“I don’t hate Yiling.” Zixuan is getting stubborn. He looks like A-Ling, almost a pout. “It’s where you live, and you’re my family.”
Wei Ying blinks at him. “I don’t know how to talk to you when you get like this.”
“Like what?”
“Sincere. All, you know—” he waves an empty bottle around in Zixuan’s face. “Sincere.”
The pout becomes more of a pout. “I’m always sincere.
“Yeah, that’s why we don’t talk.”
Jiang Cheng leans across the bar and snags the rail whiskey bottle to top off his own glass.
“I can beat you up later, if you like,” Zixuan offers.
“Yeah.” Wei Ying doesn’t want to smile, but he does anyway. “Maybe.”
The silence isn’t awkward this time. Wei Ying takes the whiskey bottle back from Jiang Cheng and makes a show of wiping it off with the bleach rag. Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.
After a while, Jiang Cheng asks, “Is there something happening here this month? For the five years? Like a memorial or something?” He’s looking away, all careful again.
“Is Lanling doing something?” They look at Zixuan, only slightly accusing on Wei Ying’s part.
“No. I mean December 3 there will be a whole . . . Armistice anniversary.”
“But nothing for Sunshot. Nothing for the massacre I mean,” Wei Ying says.
“I mean, not specifically.” Zixuan licks his lips. “I’m sure it’ll be mentioned.”
“Nothing here, though?” Jiang Cheng asks again.
“Trust me, people around here aren’t the ones that need reminding what you’re— what Lanling is capable of.” 
“That’s not fair,” Zixuan says.
Wei Ying looks down at his hands, the mottled brown of them. Flies, flies and dirt and flies and chemicals and flies. “Don’t talk about fair. Not about this.”
Zixuan opens his mouth, but Jiang Cheng shakes his head, violently.
“A-Cheng, it’s not—”
“Stop it.” Jiang Cheng is glaring at him now, the kind of look Wei Ying gets all the time, but Zixuan doesn’t see so much. It makes him stop.
Wei Ying goes to the back and grabs the broom. Jiang Cheng reaches over for the gin bottle and tops off Zixuan’s glass. Wei Ying pretends he doesn’t see it and starts at the far end of the bar. It’s getting slower, people heading out for the night to more exciting places.
A song comes on, something from his college days. He remembers recording it onto a cassette tape from the radio, keeping it in his backpack. Lan Zhan didn’t really like it, but he let Wei Ying play it all the time on his cheap little dorm room stereo.
Wei Ying sings along under his breath as he sweeps. “And if I lied, would you forgive me. Whoa-oh-oh. Fit to be tied, but you still live with me. Oh, whoa-oh-oh.”
“This song,” Zixuan says, smiling a little. “We used to— We used to fight a lot. A-Li and I. Stupid stuff. I was late for dinner. My mom would get so overbearing and we’d fight about that. Her mom would— Well, you know. We’d fight about that. Baby stuff. We didn’t know what to do about baby stuff, so she bought out the whole section of the book store and said we’d divide and conquer. But every book was different, so we’d argue. Dr. Po says this. Well, Dr. Wen says that. She could be so— You’re all so stubborn. Stupid stuff. And we’d be so pissed off we stopped speaking to each other. But I bought her this CD once, not for a birthday or anything, just because. She loved them from way back. And she’d put it on, and we’d dance, and we wouldn’t be mad anymore.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said, clearing his throat. “She liked that sappy shit.”
“Do you play it for A-Ling?” Wei Ying asks.
Zixuan shakes his head. “It makes me sad to hear it. I spend most of my time trying not to be sad around A-Ling.”
Jiang Cheng moves like he’s going to touch him, his arm, his shoulder. He aborts the move and grabs his glass instead, slides it over to tap against Zixuan’s. 
“You’re doing good,” he says.
Zixuan looks down, blinking seriously.
“You are,” Wei Ying agrees. “You’re doing good. And you know it pains me to say it.”
Zixuan gives him an echo of a laugh.
“A-Ling is lucky.”
“He’d be luckier if his uncles would visit. Both of them.”
“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying say in unison.
“You want me to change the song?” Wei Ying asks.
“No, leave it. It’s good. It’s a nice song.”
An old woman leans on the bar—she’s familiar but Wei Ying can’t remember her name. “Hey, hey, Wei Ying!”
“Yeah, auntie?” he smiles charmingly at her.
“You know my daughter’s coming home soon. December 21.”
“Cheers to that!” he gives her a half-salute.
“I’ll set you up, once she’s home. Just you wait, she’s the prettiest, even now.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“She makes that jumpsuit look like runway fashion. Still has her figure, even with the prison food.”
“Can’t wait,” Wei Ying says politely.
“December 21,” the old woman waves her finger at him and heads for the door. 
“Invite me to the wedding,” Jiang Cheng teases.
“December 21,” Wei Ying rolls it around in his mouth. “The Wens are coming home.”
Zixuan straightens up. “Really?”
“That’s what we’re celebrating. We don’t celebrate the Massacre, but innocent people coming home? That’s worth it.”
“Innocent is—”
“Zixuan, think about where you are.”
Zixuan nods.
All of the Wens who’d been scooped up post-Sunshot, post-war, those related to rebels or in the wrong place at the wrong time, they’d all been sentenced to five years in prison. “Just to be safe.” The majority came from Yiling, Dafan, other small towns in the West. People who couldn’t afford to run to Lanling, to Gusu, somewhere safe during the worst of the fighting. People who wouldn’t turn their backs on brothers and aunts and cousins in Nightless City. 
But five years have almost passed, and the Wens are coming home.
“It’ll be weird, won’t it?” Jiang Cheng asks, diplomatic in his insensitivity.
“A hundred and forty-three people,” Wei Ying says. “At least, that’s how many went in. I’m sure a couple fucked up inside, got their sentences extended.”
“But still.”
“But still,” he agrees.
“Are you going to do something for it? In December?” Jiang Cheng asks him.
“Dunno. I should stock up though, shouldn’t I? I’ll make a note.”
Later, after Jiang Cheng and Zixuan leave for Jiang Cheng’s Yiling sublet—a two bedroom so Zixuan doesn’t have to get his own place in town—Wei Ying sweeps up while Wen Ning flips chairs up on the tables.  
“Have you ever gotten over something?” Wei Ying asks him.
“Like what?” Wen Ning stops working and looks at him. He always does that—Wei Ying has always wondered if he had hearing loss as a kid. If he’s talking to you, he always has to stop whatever he’s doing and look at you right in the face.
“I don’t know. But have you ever stood there a second and realized you were over something? Or through something. You know, on the other side?”
Wen Ning thinks for a while, and Wei Ying sweeps around his feet. “School, I guess.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“What about you?”
Wei Ying leans down with the dust pan. “I don’t think I’ve ever come out the other side of anything. I think maybe if you stay in something long enough you adapt. Grow gills or whatever, so you can breathe. So you can survive when the world turns unlivable around you. And maybe you aren’t living at all, maybe you’re a stone, or you’re a dead fish with rotten eyes, washed up on the bank of a river that dried up years and years ago.” 
Wen Ning still looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, but he doesn’t ask Wei Ying to make sense. It’s what Wei Ying appreciates the most about him. 
“So maybe you’re dead, or maybe you’re evolving. Like, maybe that’s just what the world is now, and what you would have previously defined as dead, what you’d look at ten years ago and say that’s a dead thing, maybe that’s just what life looks like now. Evolution.” 
Wen Ning nods and picks up a chair. “I think . . . I might be remembering wrong, but I think evolution takes a long time. Like many generations. So maybe you should look at the kids.”
“The kids?” 
“Yeah, see if the kids have gills. Or whatever. Whatever you said.”
Wei Ying leans his chin on his broom and watches Wen Ning go table by table, strong and methodical. He sets the chairs so gently on the tabletops that it doesn’t make any noise. He flips them with complete control and lines up the seats.
“Maybe,” Wei Ying says. He goes back behind the bar and turns up the music. There’s work to do before heading home
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julemmaes · 4 years
Text
Let Me In - October 2nd
Nesta Archeron x Cassian
Prompt sent by @noorismee (I’m sorry Tumblr kinda sucks and deleted the ask, I hope it’s just a one-time thing cause I could go insane)
“I didn’t get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”
A/N: This was so cute to write and I really really miss my friends right now, cause I’ve just started uni and I don’t understand how many things works so I haven’t seen them in a very long time and writing about them is always kinda emotional. I hope y’all enjoy!
p.s. yesterday I made a mistake, cause I put the acotar general tag list instead of the tog one, so, sorry for the ones who found themselves there eheh
Word count: 2,587
Nesta wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so bad.
She had tried to take this exam four times in the last year. Twice in the winter session and twice in the summer one. Everyone had reassured her that the fifth time would be the good one, that this time she would be able to pass it with full marks.
"I'm sure you'll be the best in the class." Elain had told her only the day before.
So when she had arrived home, today, and had opened the email with the rankings and saw that she had failed again, she had screamed in frustration.
She grunted and dropped her head on the table, banging her forehead hard enough on the wood to make a loud thump. She rubbed her hands over her eyes, yawning and jerking when a flash of lightning lit the room as if it were daytime. She put her hands over her ears, waiting for the thunder and staring at the raindrops racing on the window glass, and when the noise stopped, she started reading one of the billions of theorems she had been studying for months.
She turned the pages until she found the chapter on the Fourier series and started to rewrite everything she needed to assimilate every little connotation of the theory so that she could apply it in practice.
She had been flipping through the book for hours, writing things and doing calculations that she knew by heart now. How was it possible that she knew everything so perfectly when she was at home and when she found herself in front of the test sheet, she forgot the logic behind it?
She picked up the phone to see the time and saw that it was ten forty-nine. She would not go to sleep until she had solved all the problems in the book.
A message appeared on the screen just as she was about to turn it off and she raised an eyebrow seeing who the sender was.
She had immediately informed him when she knew that she had failed the exam again, but then she hadn't waited for an answer and had put her phone aside.
Scrolling through the dozens of notifications - most of them from her best friend - she saw messages from her classmates asking her if she had passed.
When she got to the bottom of the list, she grimaced.
‘Did you eat?’
And a few minutes later, ‘Nesta?’
‘If you don't answer me within an hour and a half, I'm coming to your place.’
And then, exactly ninety minutes later, he had sent another message saying: ‘You asked for it. I'll be at your's in twenty minutes, half an hour max.’ followed by a strangely threatening text, ‘I'm pissed.’
Nesta grinned, muttering to herself, "Joke's on you, I won't open the door." and returned without too much thought to her math book.
Five minutes passed before she heard someone aggressively knocking on the door. She sighed, lifting her eyes from the numbers and pondering whether it was better to let him in or let him die outside in the cold and frost. She was about to get up, tell him that he should leave, when Cassian knocked harder on the door. She frowned.
"Arche! Open the fucking door, I'm freezing out here!" shouted the boy. Nesta laughed, looking at him through the peephole and leaning her hip against the wall.
She spoke loudly enough so that Cassian could hear her through the door, "And don't you think you should have asked my permission before coming here and busting my balls?"
She heard him snort and could imagine him closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, "Nesta, please," he seemed exasperated, "open this door and let me feed you."
Nesta raised an eyebrow, chuckling, "Feed me? What am I? A dog?"
"No, you idiot." he laughed on the other side, then, in a more serious tone he asked, "Have you eaten something?"
Nesta hesitated, "Sure."
"I can hear the bullshit from here." a little pause, "Come on, open up."
She opened the door slightly, watching him step forward and Nesta closed the door ajar, shaking her head, "Cassian I have to study." if she had let him in she wouldn't have been able to do anything.
His hair was damp and his usually dark-grey jacket was now black.
"Cassian," he repeated in a mocking tone and making a disgusted face, "what? Are you mad?"
She shook her head puffing, tapping her foot on the ground repeatedly. He followed the movement with his eyes. Looking back at her face, he said, "Even if you were, you wouldn't have the right to. I'm not the one who ignored his best friend all day." he put one hand on the door and pushed it, holding the pizza with the other.
When Nesta struggled to keep it closed again, Cassian laughed. They both knew very well that if he wanted to force his way into her apartment, he would have no problem doing so.
He took one look at her and made what she called whipped-dog-eyes, "I didn't get soaked wet through walking to your house for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you're sad, so let me in." She noticed only in that moment the bag hanging from his fingers. She leaned forward to help him hold it. She hated plastic bags so much, they always stretched out to cut off her hands when she had to carry them around.
Then she metabolized his words and opened her eyes wide, "Did you come on foot?"
She opened the door, stepped aside and let him in. Cassian trotted into the apartment, shaking his jacket off and passing the pizza to her, who moved so as not to get wet, "Are you crazy? It's four degrees outside and it's pouring."
He looked so pleased to finally be inside the house that he didn't seem to hear her.
Nesta placed the food and beer on the kitchen table, careful not to wet the books. She hurried to put everything aside and when Cassian came in and saw what she was doing she tightened her jaw. Nesta noticed.
"What?" she asked abruptly, "Everyone has their problems. You are a fool for leaving the house at ten o'clock without an umbrella and walking for half an hour in the middle of a storm and I am trying to make sure I have a future by studying, and if I have to do it in the evening, that's not going to stop me".
Cassian shrugged, "Az stole my umbrella and my mom needed the car."
A twinge of pain tightened her heart.
She shook her head, "Wait here, I'll go get you a dry sweatshirt, I should have one of yours."
He nodded and Nesta saw him as he started cutting the pizza, taking what necessary and setting the table. When he came back he was shirtless and was rattling his hair, squeezing it into the sink.
She froze on the kitchen door, admiring how the muscles on his back tensed with every slightest movement. It was not the first time she saw him without clothes, there had been many occasions, but it was rare for him to undress in front of her in such intimate surroundings. She cleared her voice, drawing Cassian's attention.
He turned towards her, smiling at her and Nesta thought she was going to die. It wasn't the usual cocky smile he usually gave everyone, it was sweet and sincere. She handed him the sweatshirt without saying anything and sat down.
The first bite of pizza - although it was gummy and cold - was an explosion of happiness in her stomach. She closed his eyes, moaning and took another bite out of the slice. Cassian sniggered, watching her as she finished her first slice.
"Geez, it's so good," said Nesta, with her mouth full of food. Cassian had an amused expression on his face. He nodded his head to the cartoon, "Have some more."
Nesta didn't hesitate and threw herself on the pizza, filling her plate. They ate in silence, enjoying each other's company. She thanked him only when she had cleaned the plate with the last crumb. He had belittled the whole thing by waving his hand mid-air, just saying that she didn't need to thank him, that it was his job to make sure she survived through this exam session.
When Cassian leaned forward on the table to grab a bottle of beer, Nesta stood up, grabbed the bottle opener and handed it to him. He was about to open the second one, when Nesta stopped him, "I'm not going to drink Cass, as soon as you leave I'll go back to studying and you know what alcohol does to me."
Cassian laughed and opened it anyway, pushing it towards her, "Come on Arche," she did not move and looked him in the eyes more serious than ever, "if you put it like that," he took back the beer and the smile died on his lips. He moved his gaze toward the window, "But I'm not leaving".
She moaned, "What the fuck, Cass." she put her hand in her hair, raising one leg and putting her foot on the chair, leaning her chin against her knee.
"I'm not leaving and I don't want to hear your lame excuses about why I can't stay" he looked at her and the worry in his features made Nesta stand at attention.
His tone became more gentle, "What happened today?"
She wiggled her head for the millionth time, frowning, "What do you mean? Nothing happened," and before he could answer her, she added, "except that I failed the mathematical analysis exam for the fifth time."
"Nes..." he passed his hand through his hair, unwinding it and dropping little water left and right. His eyes never left her face, looking for any sign that would give away her apparent calm.
"Cass." she repeated with the same tone. How could he be so good at reading through the lines? Lines that she hadn't even written, considering how good she had been at ignoring him all day long. She figured, that was also a clear sign that something was wrong.
Not even Tomas, her boyfriend, could understand that something was wrong and she had explicitly texted him "I don't feel very well, I'd rather be alone for today" to which he replied with a simple "Ok, talk to you tomorrow".
Maybe he didn't even care what was bothering his girlfriend so much. Surely he would have been angry, though, when he found out that Cassian had spent the night on her couch.
Cassian sighed, also putting down his beer, "You know, you need to talk about anything, I'm always here."
Nesta felt a lump forming in her throat, so she nodded weakly, not trusting her voice.
He looked into her eyes for a few more seconds and when she could no longer hold his gaze, she turned to her books, staring at the sheets of paper that came out of the pages.
"So," said Cassian, changing the subject for her sake, "what don't you understand about mathematical analysis?
She turned to him in surprise, "These aren't things you would understand."
She wasn't trying to insult him or make him feel less intelligent than she were, but the subjects that were studied in the third year of a math degree course required a broad knowledge of previous subjects. Subjects that Cassian would never have even approached while studying foreign languages and literatures.
"Oh, I know, I don't have a sufficiently developed brain for those things, but you need to be distracted and since you want to study so much, maybe you could repeat it to me." he smiled at her, getting up and standing in front of her, pointing to the living room with a nod of his chin, "Couch?
Nesta stared at him, wondering how it was possible that Cassian was her friend. She nodded, following him into the living room and sitting in front of him, her legs bent under her.
The second she opened the book, the black letters on the white pages seemed to cross over. They seemed to dance, not allowing her to read. She would have been able to explain it without reading, but fatigue was taking over. She closed the book, staring at the cover.
"Everything okay?" he asked with a hint of concern in his tone.
Nesta closed her eyes, carrying a hand over her eyes. Her breath started to tremble. She did not want to cry.
She felt Cassian move on the couch and then he hugged her, "Sweetheart?" he stroked her hair, while Nesta took the book out from among them and dropped it on the floor. She clutched to his chest and took a deep breath. The warmth of him seemed to relax her little or nothing and Nesta only wanted to stop feeling this icy cold that seemed to have been poured into her bones.
"I miss my mom," she whispered.
She heard Cassian swallowing, "I figured," he said in an equally silent tone, holding her tighter, "It's normal Arche, her anniversary is approaching."
Right. The anniversary of Amanda Archeron's death would be in a couple of weeks.
Nesta was convinced that Tomas couldn't even remember the month of her mother's death.
"She was so good. She graduated on time. She did everything perfectly. And I'm here and I can't pass this stupid exam," she said against his chest. Her mother went to the same university, she attended classes in the same halls. She had graduated with the highest grades.
Cassian moved slightly, placing his hand on one of her cheeks, caressing her just under the eye. He had a determined look in his eyes and when he spoke, Nesta knew she wouldn't be able to talk back.
"You managed to get this far for a reason. You are not stupid and the test you are trying to take is not easy. Your mother was a genius, it's true, and I understand that you think you are expected to do the same, but no one is going to use such a thing against you," he reassured her. "We are all on your side. The only one who doesn't believe in you, it seems, is also the only one who should." he smiled sweetly at her.
Nesta moved, fleeing that touch so familiar, so comforting.
"I'm sorry." she murmured.
Cassian was still hugging her, "For what?"
"For making you worry, I should have called you and told you right away. You wouldn't have had to come all the way here." she looked him in the face and found an amused expression there.
"I would have come anyway, Nes. Only sooner."
She smiled at him and hugged him again.
They watched an action movie until two in the morning, hugging on her couch. They didn't go to class the next day, staying locked in the house, eating all the junk they had managed to buy on their little trip to the mini market down the street.
Cassian had also managed to convince her not to touch the books for the day and it had taken a while for her to accept.
She just needed her person.
Looking to her right, she stretched her feet over his lap and he smiled at her.
She was kinda screwed.
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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years
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I never realized how bad it feels asking for a match-up- it's a really self-centered feeling lmao. But yeah, can I please have a match-up for me and either a Creepypasta character and/or Marble Hornets? If you don't want to do this, that's fine. Thanks for reading anyway!
To start, I go by all pronouns but I prefer she/her since I'm closeted. You can say I'm a straight ally or toric and it'll still be right, I suppose. I was born female. I like to be called questionable names such as Grass, Broskeet, etc in replace of my real name (believe it or not, people mispronounce my name to Elsie when they read it.) But I go by Lee now as an official name to replace my dead name, but I'm still closeted so only certain friends call me Lee.
I have long black/dark brown hair that's flat on top and gets really waves at the bottom, making it really poofy. I have green eyes that turn blue sometimes, and othertimes combine. I love my eyes so much tbh; sometimes one eye would be green and the other blue but it's very rare. I'm 5'2 and 130 so I'm slightly chubby but overall have an okay figure. I'm C-cup but I have like no fkn hips since I take after my dad lmao. Well, I have some but they doesn't move very much.
I'm a pretty neutrally opinionated person if that makes since. Oh, you like [unfavorable political party]? That's great, but just don't push that on to me. Oh, your friend likes [favorable political party]? Spectacular, but don't get me involved. Pretty much like that. Even if I like something, I ain't gonna act on it knowing it could be bad also. I don't have grudges or feelings of hate towards anyone really aside my sister, and it's a long story as to why.
Despite how neutral I can be, I can be one of three things: hella hyper and stupid, anxious and irritable, or tired and easily compelled to be either personality. Whenever I'm hyper, I go overtop if I'm playing a game and often times can make people laugh, but I also get too caught up in that to realize if I'm about to do something stupid. Since I was 3, I was known to be anxious and irritable a hell of a lot whenever; it would just happen randomly, even in the midst of having a good time. Whenever I'm tired, I usually try to sleep but get pulled into being hyper or anxious at some point.
I want to say I have ADHD but since I was never diagnosed, I can't say that it's a true statement. I was supposed to be tested when I was young but it never came. I pretty much struggle to pay attention and remember things, and often times talk too much. Anyway, one of the most notable features of mine is how I try to get people to laugh. It's one of my favorite things to do, especially with my close family.
I have two sisters, two half sisters, and a half brother. Only my half siblings I really get along; one of full sisters hated me as I hated her since forever, and the other other sister is a toddler who'd rather be by herself. My younger half sister and I get along great, but me and my cousin are so close. I'm not exactly family oriented but my cousin is hella important to me. I try to be loyal no matter what with people I care for, and these are good examples of those people. And friends too; I don't have many of them, but I would protect them at all costs even though I probably couldn't do much lmao.
I guess, on to hobbies? I love to draw, write, and read for basics. I've been neglecting how often I write though, I read so much everyday. The Outsiders and The Hunchback of Notre Dame (original) are my favorites, and so many lovable fanfictions too lmao. I draw semi-realistic but always manage to make a cartoon-anime combination on accident. Also, I collect alpaca stuffed animals. No reason other than I need to make a movement on the alpaca market that these creatures are so unfathomably perfect is all ways. I give them all stupid names like Karrot With A K, Kangaroo, MoshPit (it's a rainbow alpaca), etc. They also have backstories~~
I also try to go along with what other people like. Whether in an NSFW setting or not, I can be hella submissive and just go along with what other people want. I don't like like gey my preferences out there very much but I will speak up if someone's being disrespected in some way. I don't put up with that shit.
I love Mexican styled music and dances! My cousin had a Quinceanera that I got to be her Doma in, meaning I got to be part of a dance crew with her and got to give speeches. If you're unfamiliar with a Quence, it's basically a 15th birthday party for girls that's as big as a wedding, and a Doma is like a bride's maid. El Tao, Tao, and Soltera (Remix) are my gavorite lmao.
I love some 80s rock early 2000s rock/metal though. I love Japanese music too, and know the full lyrics to a fee Japanese songs. When I had a vrinfy weebo phase, I started "learning" Japanese but then got serious with it, and now I continue to learn it. I want to learn Spanish too since I clearly have Mexican in my family.
I like to wear all kinds of clothes. I like poofy, short dresses that twirls, Hot Topic styled skirts eith suspenders and chains, plaid pants and shirts, any shirt without sleeves, and a few signature red hoodies. I go for all looks really. But damn, I've recently been in love with skirts.
I watch anime so I might probably suggest my S/O to watch it. Nothing forceful though lmao.
As for NSFW if your up to it- I'm pretty submissive. Anything he likes, I would do. I would do degrading or praise as a kink as well. However, I'm a virgin so I'd be hella inexperienced lol. But yeah, that's pretty much it. Sorry if this is too long or short or just not good enough-
Hi love bug, I shut down matchups a little while ago! I don't know when I'm opening them back up again, but when I do, please feel free to send this in again! My sincerest apologies. It's also never self centered to ask for a matchup, if they were open rn, I'd do this in a heartbeat! <3
Also I briefly skimmed it and people refer to me as "Elise" instead of my actual name, "Elsie" and it's garnered my hatred of the former.
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Odi et Amo II
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Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris? nescio, sed fieri sentio et excrucior  
Catullus, 85
After a few years of working in the USA for Disney and playing the role of The White Fox in Marvel Cinematic Universe you came back to your motherland - Korea only to be greeted with hatred and contempt. To make things harder for you the universe sends you the most irritating neighbour ™. Will you be able to find your happiness and  accomplish your dream of becoming loved actress in Korea without complying with standards of patriarchal society?
pairing: Park Jinyoung x reader
genre: actor au
warnings: angst, foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)
words: 5764
A/N: It was supposed to be published last week, but I was unhappy with it and ended up rewriting it/adding some things. Sorry! (*_ _)人 P.S Sorry for my grammatical errors! Enjoy!
Chapter I
***
Currently sitting in front of your manager you eyed him. He seemed tired and you felt a pang of conscience it was probably because of your tweets last night and you wouldn’t even think of meeting him if you weren’t in dire need of getaway from the uncomfortable conversation with your neighbor. You didn’t meet in your agency’s building since both of you despised the place even though it was a new and flashy building made out of something that looked like a white marble. Both of you agreed on meeting outside it, so you were sitting in the café nearby while wondering how did your shitty boss manage to rent it. Last time you’ve been here, it was a few rooms in shabby, old building. You shivered while imagining going in, that place had an evil aura even from across the street.
"Where did you get all that money to rent it?" you asked.
"We actually bought it." 
"Well, business goes well then."
"Actually we are only able thanks to your movies. Don’t tell Kim Pd-nim I told you, he thinks you'll become arrogant."
"I already am." You smiled coldly.
"That's what I told him."
Your manager had a sarcastic smirk on. Both of you and hated your CEO and even mentioning him would bring up unpleasant memories. Kim Sanghoon was one of those bosses who wouldn't even think about trying to help idols and stars that were bringing him money. No matter what it was — crazy fans destroying your life, death threats, your collapsing mental health he didn’t care. Once you were attacked by media and netizens you were on your own and if it was too much for the company your contract was terminated. You often wondered when would you become too much for them to handle.
"How do you feel?" Your manager caught you off guard, even though you had known each other for a long time there was an unspoken rule between you not to talk about other things than work.
"Honesty..I'm fine I don't understand why everyone asks me that." You huffed a bit irritated and run fingers through your hair. 
"Well it's just.. I know it was important to you and you worked hard to earn the hearts of your Korean fa..."
"I'm fine." you didn't manage to hide irritation in your voice. You were not used to talking about it and you didn't like it one bit. Besides what were you supposed to say anyway? No one else was as hated as you. Of course there were idols and stars that were occasionally criticized but not one of them was constantly a target of such hatred. Even when you left there were still death threats send from your motherland to you, nothing changed. Not to mention no one else got such welcoming on the day of return to their home. It was unfair, stupid, infuriating and saddening. And yet you couldn’t understand what people were expecting of you? Both Mark and your manager knew you, or so you thought. What were you supposed to do? Cry? You wouldn't cry, that was what weak people do, that would show you actually care about what those assholes think about you. You were just fine. Ok. Neither sad nor happy. You'd endure whatever you had to but you won't conform to their image of idol and woman nor will you show any sign of weakness. You'd rather stay hated than do that. Your manager sighed and it pulled you out of your thoughts.
"Well then. If you're okay then I'm glad. So just as I told you I have this drama for you if you're interested." You weren't the slightest bit. Frankly you'd rather stay in bed for the next three months jobless than play some crazy villain or villainous second female lead. Then again you felt bad about the amount of work he probably had because of you. You looked him in the eyes and answered with a sigh.
"I can't promise anything but I can at least listen what it’s about.." Your manager seemed surprised, but he didn't wait long, perhaps in case you'd change your mind. He took out some papers and handed them to you. You cringed on the sole title "Love is your destiny" — it sounded sappy. 
"So it's a love story between fallen angel and this human..." he started.
"Angels...so who do they want me to play? Satan? Devil? Succubus?" You browsed through pages to find the villain.
"You'd know if you'd let me finish." You sent him a small apologetic smile. "They want you to play the main role." You stared at him confused before you burst with laughter.
"They want me to play cute girl in love with the angel?" The idea of you playing the sweet female lead was absurd, not that you weren’t able to do it, you were a good actress it wouldn’t be a problem for you, if anything it would most likely be a challenge for the audience.
"No, no! You'd play the angel. See this is drama with strong female lead. The origin of your character is fascinating. You had to watch the mistreatment of a woman extremely devoted to god. The lady prayed, but she still got beaten, almost killed even. Moreover, you had to be the guardian angel of her torturer — the aggressive husband. You pleaded to god, you asked him to let you guard her instead, but he didn’t agree and forbade you from intervening. One night when the husband got drunk, he beat her unconscious and you were sure he’d kill her. You decided to save her, you kill her husband and this is the moment when you fell. That's when you became deviant and promised yourself you'd help those who were denied it. You’d protect them and avenge them. Fast-forward a thousand years, and we are in Seoul and you meet a man, a painter..." He was so excited you almost didn't understand some words because of the speed. He was waiting for your response but you were too occupied with reading what he handed you. Once you finished it you looked at him with a mix of surprise and excitement.
"It's like it was made for me.." you said with bewildered tone.
"That's because it was made for you. The screenwriter wrote it with you in mind." You looked like a cartoon character, eyes wide, mouth in a shape of letter "o", once you heard him.
"Me?"
"Yes. She is apparently a big fan."
"And tvN is ok with that?" You furrowed your brows confused.
"Perhaps they aren't. But it is co-production with Netflix, and they pushed for you since you’re popular worldwide." 
Your heart fluttered and the tips of your fingers tingled from excitement as you rummaged through the pages once again, not only it would be showed in TV during the prime-time but also streamed on Netflix weekly.
"The screenwriter and producer kept calling me since yesterday as soon as it was known you came back. They almost cast someone else. They were sure you're staying in the USA. Isn't it amazing?" He was as excited as you were and you felt some remorse for being so rude to him before. You gave him your warmest smile, one you usually used only around Mark and your family.
"It really is. Thank you and I'm sorry for being rude earlier." He was clearly uncomfortable with your apology, red spreading on his cheeks as he waved his hand dismissively.
"Ah don't mention it. Does that mean I can call them and say you are interested." You looked at the pages in front of you once again and smiled broadly before simply saying.
"Yes!"
Jinyoung was still amused you threatened him in his own café. He couldn't focus on the book he had in his hands anymore as he chuckled replying your angered and irritated expressions in his head. It was fun to tease you because you reacted so well. He could tell you could be great friends if you'd let him. He smiled to himself mouthing your own words "bloody Y/N". He was truly shocked that he met you here of all places and found it rather amusing when you yelled in English and caught his attention. He felt some disappointment upon seeing a half naked man talking to you from the screen of your phone but the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came up once your friend ended the call. Jinyoung wouldn't call himself a noisy person, but he found you interesting, and he wanted to know who it was and what kind of relationship you had although he rarely cared for stuff like this... His thoughts were interrupted by his ring-tone, BamBam's face illuminated the screen. He sighed but answered it anyway.
"Skrrrt, skrrt!"
"Ah yes, good morning to you to Bam." Jinyoung said in amused tone.
"Oh, hyung you seem in good mood. What you're up to?"
"Reading, thinking."
"Sounds boring wanna hang out?"
"Actually I wanted to ask you about something." Jinyoung ignored his question once he remembered how obsessed with celebrities and their styles Bam was.
"Shoot."
"Do you know any celebrities under the name Y/N." BamBam laughed wholeheartedly.
"That's very funny hyung."
"What do you mean?"
"OMG you're not joking! Are you living under a rock, hyung? Y/N is like the hottest actress ever. Her style is chic and comfy and artsy it's really cool, and she actually doesn't have a stylist, she does it on her ow..."
"She is an actress?"
"She is the actress! She played the White Fox in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. Lol, you call yourself an actor and you don't know the most popular Korean actress abroad."
"You know I don't like those superheroes movies. Besides why didn't I hear about her Korean career if she's so good?"
"You are so old it scares me sometimes. Well you should know her from internet. I think it's national sport to hate her or something. She just came back, and they're already frying her online not to mention the media and dating rumors."
"Dating rumors?"
"Yeah she dated few actors. I think Seojoon hyung dated her and Changwook hyung even almost proposed. The media made her to look like heartless vixen though. I mean they never liked her but her last ex gave a very unfavorable interview to dispatch and after that she became villain number one. She left shortly after."
"Mmmm... I see." Jinyoung only started his career four years ago so it shouldn't be weird you've never met before. He was also the type of person who couldn't care less about internet gossip and gutter press or dispatch. He sighed. Suddenly your angry reaction made much more sense and Jinyoung didn't feel as good about it as he did before. He scolded himself for being too frivolous and selfish. He just wanted to see your reactions - it was cute and funny...
"Why did you ask? OMG you've met her didn't you. I'm so jealous. What was she wearing? Was it Gucci? I heard she likes it."
"Ok Bam. I have to go. Thanks for the talk."
"Wait, so you wanna hang out?"
"Last time when you asked me to hang out I had to shop for 4 hours with you."
"Well... I am your stylist. Besides, it was fun, come on." 
"I think we have different definitions of "fun""
You woke up to no noise pleasantly surprised. It seems that Sunday's were free from renovation and thanks to that you could sleep in. You stretched out and grabbed the phone to check the time. It was already past eleven. You smiled to yourself and fell to bed lazily. Soon you wouldn't have time for lazy days like this as the production team was supposed to finish up casting for the drama by the end of the next week. You thought about picking some groceries, maybe cooking yourself some food and enjoying the day with a book or perhaps some video games. You took shower and put on some comfortable clothes — beige cardigan you stole from Mark clearly too big for you and some black trousers pairing it up with brown coat. You left the apartment and as soon as you did the irritating voice in your head reminded you about your debt. Hesitant at first you shook off the feeling quickly and knocked on the door. This time you were prepared for teasing, you were expecting it even so you wouldn't be caught off guard. At least that's what you were telling yourself. Your neighbor, however, didn't act the way you expected him to. Instead of smirking at you and teasing you or straight up mocking you, he seemed nervous. He had deep purple bags under his usually sparkling eyes. Perhaps he didn’t feel well... you wondered whether you should ask him if he needed some help. You decided it would be extremely awkward and so you cleared your throat and spoke up — softness now somewhere in your voice.
"Is that bad time? I can come later I just wanted to give you back your money.."
"N-No." He started nervously "I mean no. It's fine. I'm actually glad you're here. Would you come in?"
You didn't want to come in and it must have shown on your face since he continued.
"Come on. I don't bite." He smiled warmly and it seemed much more normal than the timid self he showed you seconds ago. And so you came in curiously looking around his own apartment. It was a mirror image of your own in terms of room placements — a hallway leading to living room with opened kitchen. You came into the living room and Jinyoung rushed after you quickly turning the TV off. You didn't pay it any mind since you were looking around and taking in how different was his home compared to yours. It was very modern and yet it kept the homey feeling. Yours on the other hand, well it was raw yet full of stuff? Mark would probably call it unfinished and cluttered. Your neighbor sat on the other side of the couch leaving quite a lot of space between the two of you and run a hand through his hair. He wore a cardigan very similar to yours both in color and style in fact it could be the very same brand and style it’s just neither of you noticed it.
"So what did you want to talk about?"
"I wanted to apologize." He responded quickly and gained a surprised look from you.
"Apologize?"
"Yes about yesterday…I shouldn't have said those things in public I could say I just didn't know about your situation but it’s no excuse. I’m truly sorry." he paused. "You don't have to be stressed about press or rumors though. It is my café and my staff, so they won't talk about it with anyone I took care of it." You took back everything you said, you weren’t prepared for meeting him, especially not getting apologies from him. On top of that he was the owner of your favorite café...
"I… it's fine." You said confused and tried to act as normal as possible while being very aware of your palms spread on your thighs. They were unnaturally clammy. It was a surprise to you, you rarely got any apologies and you were expecting some more teasing not something like that. Your eyes were everywhere except on him and you were screaming at yourself internally to say something, anything, but nothing was coming to your mind. Once again you lost your ability for forming witty sentences around him or in that case any sentences. There was awkward silence between you and you immensely regretted coming to see him today. You weren’t used to this. Somewhere in your belly you could feel as if butterflies - or rather moths — yes, moths of anxiety were fluttering their wings desperately trying to get into your chest. You never felt like this before. You tried to avoid looking at him but your own eyes betrayed you and fell on Jinyoung only to find out he was enjoying your anguish. His brown eyes were glimmering and his lips formed half smirk that he tried to cover with his left hand in a gesture of propping his head up. Immediately irritation came to you burning all the fluttering wings in the pits of your stomach. A frown formed on your face and you send him a glare. Wondering how could you be so stupid and fall for his act.
"You're really cute when you're shy or embarrassed." He chuckled now mocking you openly.
"I can't believe I took your apologies as sincere." He chuckled again clearly pleased with how you responded.
"They were sincere. I just enjoy teasing you."
"Could you stop? That's inappropriate you don't even know me."
"What do you mean we are neighbors and soon to be friends." He smiled broadly and for a second your mind travelled somewhere else simply admiring his beauty. You cursed his handsome face it could blind and charm everyone really. You wanted to leave, no you needed to leave. It was stuffy in here.
"I'm here for a reason." You reminded him, he was watching you with amusement. It felt almost as if a cat was observing you.
"Ah right... money." his tone seemed inattentive somehow. "I don't need it. Let's say it was a part of my apology."
"Just give me your account number and take the money."
"I don't remember it." You were getting more irritated every minute you talked to him.
"You don't remember your account number?" This man was unbelievable. He shrugged.
"You can send it to me through KakaoTalk if you really want." He smiled and took out the phone from the pocket of his pants. 
"Fine. Just give it." Not wanting to spend any second longer here with him, you scanned his qr to add him quickly and transferred the money.
"Done. Now if you excuse me."
"Of course." He smiled again and you felt mocked by the sole action of his lips shooting upwards. He walked you to the door and watched as you slipped on your shoes. You tried to look as cold and dignified as possible but still tripped over the doorstep. He caught your arm firmly and straightened you. Your heart was beating so fast and hard all you could hear was blood pumping in your ears in fact you were sure he could hear it as well. On the other hand whose heart wouldn't when you almost fell face first, right…? Right? It surely wasn't because of his warm breath now tickling the crown of your head, nor the dangerously beautiful eyes... you absolutely regretted coming here today. It was foolish of you to think your cursed neighbor wouldn't shake you up today. And he was still holding you — how awkward is that; and you felt fine with being hold like that — what on earth was wrong with you? You started to think that maybe it would be better if you'd actually fell and hit that stupid head of yours.
Jinyoung was having very dangerous thoughts. The kind he didn't have in a very long time. He wasn't prepared for this kind of proximity. He was already shaken up yesterday by your touch and closeness he only held your hand for a second or two. Maybe he didn't show it but he was. Honestly he wasn't even into PDA or flirting with someone or even thinking of flirting with someone. Yes, he liked teasing, and he teased you but it was in a FRIENDLY manner. Well it was safe to say he didn't have friendshippy type of thoughts right now. Jinyoung reacted automatically upon seeing you fall he just grabbed your arm and pulled you his way. He was still holding your now tensed muscles, but he couldn't let go of you. He was in trance. Your warmth radiating onto him, the way the smell of your shampoo was tingling his nose, your huge doe-like shocked eyes, parted lips, soft pink on the apples of your cheeks. He was wondering how badly would you kill him if he asked to kiss you right now. He was seriously considering it worthy asking even if you were to pull out his tongue like you threatened yesterday. He didn't ask though, the rational part of his brain finally letting go of you. His own feeling were mess, but he did what he knew best — he masked his emotional disarray with some more teasing hoping you wouldn’t notice.
"Falling for me already?" He smirked even though internally he was screaming and already thinking of confiding in Jackson to get himself calmed. He was clearly the one falling and he was panicked. You rolled your eyes on him seemingly gaining the composure while he was getting stunned even by such simple gesture like this.
"You're way below my standards." You seemed annoyed. He smiled again although he wanted you to leave quickly and leave him alone with his feelings, so he can sort this out. Your eyes narrowed at him even more.
"I need to go now."
"Well, have a great day."
"Right, you too." You were so cold Jinyoung almost chuckled at it because it almost wounded him, and yet he liked it. He enjoyed teasing you too much. You were already walking to the elevator, but he couldn't help himself.
"Oh, and try not to fall when I'm not around to catch you, Y/N." He laughed and you were already frowning at him absolutely mad which made his heart skip a beat, you were really too cute when you frowned. Jinyoung closed the door before you could say anything or worse before he did. He realized he was in deep shit. He tried to think reasonably. He probably just had a crush because he spent a whole night watching movies and dramas you were starring in, he might have also accidentally watched all of your interviews and went to sleep at 6 still smiling to himself from that interview where you had to answer questions about your body in preparation for your role in that Marvel movie. The reporter wouldn't stop asking about your body and making comments on it even though you were clearly uninterested in the topic which you finally cut with your own questions. "Are you looking for some weight loss tips? You look great. Seriously what is it about? Are you trying to fit in my suit?" The last question was asked with whole whisper theatrics and Jinyoung laughed at loud at five am hoping he didn't wake you up through the wall. The suit in question was extremely fitting white leather catsuit. It wasn't the only interview in which you showed off your wits, eloquence and badassness, or how Bam would call it "swag". You were also the most attractive actress he had seen. Of course, you were also attractive when you weren't acting but on the screen... you were amazing. So Jinyoung tried to calm himself down rationalizing his earlier thoughts as simply being starstrucked. That’s what fans felt towards their idols, he was simply charmed by his own new idol. Yes that was it — that’s exactly the type of thoughts some fanboys or fangirls would have. He called Jackson anyway, he knew the designer was the right person to talk to in situations like this. 
Twenty minutes later Jinyoung regretted ever calling his best friend.
"OH MY GOD YOU ARE SO IN LOVE WITH HER!" Jackson basically yelled to the phone. Jinyoung groaned and massaged the space between his brows. 
"Were you even listening? I'm just a big fan."
"Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night man. I’m a big fan of Christian Dior and all I can think of is making out with him." 
"Don’t compare it, he is dead!" Jinyoung yelled and his friend filled his ear in response.
 You were regretting not taking the car for shopping. The walk did help with your racing heart, and helped ease off your mind but it turned out the supermarket isn't that close any more when you have to drag home ten bags of food and products. Thankfully a convenience store was on your way so you could make a stop there maybe you'd be lucky enough to see Seoyun, buy her coffee and have a chat. You knew it was stupid, because she could've just feel obliged to say she is your fan but you still wanted to tell her about your new upcoming role. Sadly she wasn't there and so you just made a stop and sat on one of nearby benches. Massaging your palms that had those harsh red lines imprinted in them now thanks to the bags. You could swear you heard the sound of released shutter and so now alarmed you looked around but it seemed you were the only person here. You sighed, how paranoid have you become that you started hearing the cameras when there was none. Then again you were extremely lucky dispatch and paparazzi haven't found you yet. Just before you left to the USA, your ex gave this interview and your life became hell. You didn't have a day without paparazzi running after you or spying on you. The memories came to you not without acrimony and hurt. Your ex, an actor just like you, used you to create scandal and gain some popularity. You could remember how enraged and morose it made you. You didn't date anyone since then even when Mark tried to introduce you to some people. You intended on staying that way. You didn't need anyone, you had Mark, and he was enough for you. Just you and your best friend. You weren't sure how long you stayed like this, deep in your thoughts. You moved only after you fingers became stiff from cold. Somehow you managed to carry the groceries back home. You were so tired that you just counted it as your training today. You checked the time and it was one PM, perfect time to call your bestie.
"Markiee!!" You whined as soon as his face appeared on your screen.
"Y/N-ah. I miss you." He was wearing some blue hoodie this time.
"That's my line. Do you have time to talk?"
"Bruh, for you? Always. What's up?" 
"I am going to star in a drama!"
"What? I thought you hate those." He was genuinely shocked.
"I know, I do. But this one is different. I'm not playing the villain I got female lead, and she isn't some damsel in distress she is a badass character!" You almost screamed and he chuckled.
"Woah. Someone's excited. I'm so proud of you. So who is getting the privilege to be cast with you?"
"I don't know yet. I'm supposed to meet the cast next week." He nodded his head and smiled. "Anyway what are you up to?"
"I was actually thinking of playing Among Us and streaming wanna join?" He grinned.
"Absolutely, prepare to get wrecked Tuan." You used to play together at least once a week when you were in the USA, his fans loved you and shipped you even though you both told them you were just friends — it is some rule in the internet though, to ship close friends.
Few hours later you were once again killed as the first person, this time by Mark.
"YOU GONNA REGRET IT WHEN WE’LL MEET TUAN. I SWEAR I’M GONNA WHOOP YO ASS..." You screamed on top of your lungs and Mark laughed wholeheartedly, while his chat filled up with hundreds of LOL’s and LUL’s.
"You guys she threatens me. Someone make a clip and send it to the police once they find my dead body." He kept laughing and you couldn’t help but laugh as well. His smile and laugh were just too contagious.
"You really put our friendship to test lately Tuan, here I was foolishly trusting you when you killed me in cold blood. " You stretched and your stomach rumbled reminding you that you haven’t eaten yet and it was already around four pm.
" Hey don’t hate the player, hate the game. "   He shrugged and winked, while you rolled your eyes.
"Okay Mark, I gotta go and eat. It’s already afternoon here."
"Sure, chat say bye to Y/N." They did as he asked and it was soon filled with many hearts and goodbyes. "Love you Y/N! Call me soon." He grinned and you smiled warmly.
"Love you too Mark. Bye guys!" With that you logged off the discord, and switched off his stream. You make your way to the kitchen and took out the ingredients for kimchi jjigae you bought before. You carefully read the recipe opened on your phone and began cooking. You had to make anchovy stock first so you grabbed some dried anchovies, kelp and slashed the daikon in cubicles — it looked quite awkward as each cubicle was different size but hey it was you eating it not some kind of culinary critic. You added water and left it to boil deciding to take care of the rest of ingredients. You cut some kimchi and ate some as a snack and reward for not ordering food today, sliced some green onions, cut the pork and the tofu as well. By the time you were done it was time to strain the broth and add the rest of ingredients. It had to cook so you decided to watch some TV in the meantime. You turned it on, it was some kind of reality show where idols were supposed to camp in the wild for a few days. The idols clearly didn’t feel like being there and the fact you knew neither of them didn’t help. You dozed off before you noticed, your eyelids getting as heavy as iron. The smell of burning woke you up. You shot upwards from your couch and rushed to the kitchen, bumping into a coffee table on your way there.
"FFFFFF-UUCK." you hissed, when your shin pulsed with pain. You quickly grabbed the pot with stew to get it off the fire, forgetting it would be hot as well. You hissed in pain and let id drop on your marble floor which was now covered in burned kimchi and some other things. "Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fucking shit." You cursed as you tried to navigate to the sink to ease off the burn with some cold water. The cold water did help and you sighed with relief only to later follow it with a sigh of resignation. You had to clean up this mess. It was when your phone barked — a new message. You checked it.
From Unknown number: Are you trying to burn down the whole building?
You furrowed your brows confused, wondering if it was one of those jokes or spam messages you heard about.
To Unknown number: Who’s this?
From Unknown number: Guess.
You huffed in disbelief.
To Unknown number: Ok, enjoy being blocked.
From Unknown number: Wait!
From Unknown number: It’s Jinyoung.
To Unknown number: How did you get my number? Never mind I’m blocking you I’m too busy to deal with you.
With that you put the phone back in your pocket and began cleaning up. You finished in no time now tired out by scrubbing. You sat on the floor and took out your phone to check it out. From Unknown number: Don’t block me what if you need my help one day.
To Unknown number: With what exactly?
From Unknown number: What if you get stuck in your bathroom and need someone to let you out?
You rolled your eyes and saved his contact
To Devil: There is at least 7 billion more people I’d rather ask to help me
From Devil: Ok then what if I get stuck in the bathroom and need your help.
To Devil: I’d leave you there
From Devil: Heartless
To Devil: Better tell me how did you get my phone number
From Devil: You gave it to me when you scanned my kakao code
You were bewildered, was that his plan from the very beginning or were you just paranoid? You were either prejudiced or he was in fact the devil with angel's face.
To Devil: Did you lie about not remembering your account number?
From Devil: Maybe
You couldn’t believe it, the audacity, the smugness. You could feel irritation building inside you but you decide to let it go when your stomach rumbled at you aggressively. After eating you took shower, read a few chapters of The Vegetarian and fell asleep.
Next week passed quickly but in the feeling of anticipation as you were supposed to meet the rest of the cast as well as the scriptwriter and director at the meeting on Friday. You kept calling your manager throughout the week trying to find out who could they be, but he didn’t know anything or didn’t want to tell you. And so you spent the week on training, running, reading and occasionally calling Mark to express your impatience and excitement. You didn’t meet your irritating neighbor even once this week — something you counted as blessing or perhaps a sign that the universe finally turned your karma around. It was finally Friday and you were already sitting in the meeting room waiting for everyone to come in. You smiled at the young man sitting next to you, he was really cute and had this mole under his right eye it added to his charm. He was about to introduce himself, when someone came through the door and greeted everyone cheerfully. You couldn’t believe it. You were cursed, actually cursed.
"YOU?!" was all that left your mouth upon seeing him entering the room.
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starrynite7114 · 4 years
Text
everything is you: eight
A/N: Happy Monday everyone! Monday is such a hit or miss, I will let you all know how Monday is once I get to work later. I hope you all are having a wonderful Monday thus far. I know I’ve been promising Snapshots, I am working on it. I’m just having a difficult time with it for some reason, but I’m pushing through!
School starts back up again next week, yay! Pray for me. Full time school and work again, yay! This is my literal escape, so I hope it will continue to pull through for me. 
Anyways, hope you all had a wonderful weekend! Enjoy the update! <3
Thank you @carlaangel86​ for the collage! <3
everything is you
one : two : three : four : five : six : seven
Word count: 9562
Warnings: Angst
Masterlist
Request tagged list: @justahopelessssromantic : @ifoundmyhappythought : @carlaangel86 : @woahitslucyylu : @encounterthepast : @enamoured-x : @thewarriorprincessxo : @briana-mishell24 : @bribri-82 : @chibsytelford : @agirllovespasta : @twistnet : @everyhowlmarksthedead : @trulysuccubus : @jadert15 : @sammskellington : @cind-in-real-life :  @claytoncardenasbabymama : @sadeyesgf : @thickemadame : @summertimesadnesswithadashofsass : @gemini0410 : @elcococruz : @samcrobae : @sesamepancakes : @iambabyharry : @blackmissfrizzle : @mrs-losa : @1-800-imagines : @phoenixhalliwell : @lady-pswrld : @dazzledamazon  : @getyourcrayoncas : @fvckthisbxtchup : @lukealvxz : @scuzmunkie : @lilac-tea-time : @danie1432 : @cocotheclown : @soaronmywings : @my-rosegold-soul : @buttercup812 : @itskiranbitch : @angelreyesgirl : @sheeshgivemeabreak : @vicmackeybullshxt : @bigcreatorwombatdreamer : @khyharah : @strawberrywritings : @cherry-icetea : @fuzzy-jellyfish : @losolvidad0s : @brownsugarcoffy : @courtrae89 : @prdsdjarin : @blessedboo : @marvelmaree : @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat : @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead : @thesandbeneathmytoes : @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind : @maddie-georges : @pearlkitten33 : @aquamento : @incorrect-mcdanno​
If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know!
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Alena yawned as she gathered her things, glad to be finally done for the day. She was out at her scheduled time of six in the evening. Cruz was with Angel so she was free to do as she pleased. She messaged Carla, but she picked up a shift at work. She decided she was going to stay in and order some food, catching up on some Korean drama she’s been meaning to see.
Making her way down the stairs, she forego her car today since she wanted to walk home. It was Friday and she meant to call Victor, but she knew he had family dinner tonight. She was invited as well, but she didn’t want to make their relationship more personal till she and Angel were divorced. 
She missed Angel.
She thought of going to see Angel, but she had to remain strong. As much as she wanted to just go back to normal with Angel, this was for her own good. 
Walking out of the building, she was surprised to find EZ outside.
She hasn’t talked much with him either since everything fell apart between him and Angel. While she understood his reasoning to some extent, he put Angel in danger. He was holding the sleeves of his kutte and offered a smile.
She returned his smile and gave him a questioning look. “What are you doing here?”
“You got plans?” EZ knew she didn’t, but things could have changed since Carla informed him of their failed plans. He knew he shouldn’t approach Alena for help, and she technically wasn’t talking to Angel. But he figured he could help his older brother out, maybe Angel would forgive him.
“No, well besides enjoying some take out and a Korean drama, no.” 
“Want company?”
Alena was hesitant, but it was EZ. The same one who betrayed Angel. “I don’t know. Angel wouldn’t want me to speak to you.”
“Well, Angel isn’t around is he?” EZ sighed. “I’m sorry, come on Alena, just like old time, our Friday night hangouts.”
“Okay.”
Alena held the door for EZ as he brought up the food Alena picked up. They set it up on Alena’s coffee table, sitting on the floor against the couch. Ever since EZ got out, he’s never had a moment alone with Alena, but with her not talking to Angel as often, keeping a distance between them, he had the opportunity to talk to Alena.
And if he played his cards correctly, he could convince his sister-in-law to have mercy on his idiotic brother and in turn, maybe Angel would forgive him.
“Why won’t you catch me up?” EZ opened the packages of Korean fried chicken that Alena picked up. They had original flavor and a spicy one, which EZ knew was mostly for Alena. She loved spicy food. Two individual containers of rice, and udon that they could share. She also got French fries, since Alena loved the carbs. Alena always has a big appetite, so he wasn’t even surprised that they had this much food.
“About?” Alena handed him a paper plate. EZ knew everything in some sense, maybe not all the gritty details, but he didn’t need to know that.
“Come on Alena, about you and Angel, you and Cruz. Apparently you and Victor now.” EZ teased her making Alena blush, playfully smacking her brother-in-law.
“There’s nothing to talk about. I realized it was time for us to just put some boundaries so that we can still remain friends once we divorce.”
“You’re going to divorce my brother?” EZ thought it was cute that Alena thought Angel would let her go.
“That’s what he wants.”
“But what if that’s not what he wanted? What if he wants you to stay by his side?”
Alena smiled, slightly laughing. “He doesn’t, your brother made that very clear a few months ago. It’s time to stop hoping you know? I’ll always cherish my friendship with Angel, but that’s all we’ll ever be.”
“God, Carla is right, you’re infuriating.” EZ shook his head. “How can someone so smart be so naive and stupid?”
“Ezekiel Reyes!”
EZ chuckled. “I’m joking, but you are. You’re refusing to see what’s finally in front of you.” He knew of Alena’s crush on Angel. She used to tell him about Valeria and Angel whenever she came to visit and how happy Angel appeared. Yet, when EZ spoke to his father, he didn’t even fucking know Valeria. 
“Can we just enjoy a quiet night, no mention of your brother or Victor? We can talk about Cruz though, I’m glad you finally can spend time with him.” Alena would bring Cruz from time to time to meet EZ, after all, he should know his uncle. Angel wasn’t really onboard at first, but Alena eventually got him to see her reasoning. 
“Alena, Angel doesn’t want to divorce you.”
“And you know this as the person he confides in?” Alena sighed. “I’m not going to apologize, what you did to your brother was not right.”
“I fucked up, I get it, but that’s why I want to help him. If he doesn’t forgive me that’s fine, but he deserves to be happy and that happiness is with you.” 
“EZ, your brother is a great guy, he has a big heart and he would do anything for you. When he told me you were getting out, expressed your desire to join the club, he was overjoyed. Something he could share with his baby brother, help him assimilate back into this life.” Alena placed some food on her plate, starting to nibble on the chicken. “All he wanted was for you to be happy, to be safe. Regardless of how he felt towards you, Angel prioritized you because that’s what big brothers do.”
“I’m not going to excuse my actions, but I always made sure Angel and the club would be protected.”
“That’s not the point. You didn’t trust Angel enough and yet again, he was left out by you and your father.” 
EZ saw Alena’s point, he came here to help Angel out and somehow, Alena helped him out with his struggling thoughts about his betrayal with Angel. 
“Can you help me?” EZ put some food on his plate as well, his appetite gone with the shift in conversation.
“No, this is up to Angel, I wouldn’t force him to talk to you. He’ll talk to you when he’s ready.”
“What if that never happens?” EZ itched to tell Alena about his mother since she was such a big part of Alena’s life as well, but he knew it would upset Angel if he dragged Alena into this. 
“You're his brother, he’ll come around.”
==================
Carla walked in Alena’s apartment and gave Letty and Cruz a quick hug before dropping her purse at the dining table. Alena called her over since they haven’t seen one another and Alena wanted to catch up.
“Where is Alena?” 
“Room, she’s catching up on her korean dramas before dinner.” Letty nodded her head towards the room. 
Carla went inside Alena’s room and found her watching television. “Alright, first of all you look like hell.” 
“Hell?” Alena sat up frowning. She looked at the mirror across from her and she didn’t see any difference. “Thanks for the insult jerk.”
“Alena, your eyebags look like that cartoon dog with droopy eyes.” Carla teased, sitting next to her best friend. 
When EZ first told her that Alena finally put some distance between herself and Angel, she didn’t believe it. After all, who would? Alena was in love with Angel and the last thing she wanted was to put space between them. But when EZ told her why Alena put the distance between them, she went to Angel’s while Cruz was napping and slapped him. He had given her an incredulous look before she uttered Alena’s name and he took it, nodding his head. 
After that, she rarely spoke to Angel, upset at him for his actions. 
She was on Alena’s team afterall. 
“How are you doing?”
“I’m good.”
“This is good to you?” She looked around and Alena was much neater than usual. She figured with all the time in her hands, all she did was organize and clean. 
“Carla, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m hurting, but I don’t want to dwell on it. I made my choice and it’s better for us to get used to this instead of just ripping off the bandaid.” Alena turned her television off, giving her full attention to Carla.
“True, and I’m proud of you Alena, I just want to make sure that this is what you truly wanted.” Angel was such an idiot. All he had to do was confess to Alena, but instead, the two were suffering. 
“I don’t even know, what I do know is that I want to get used to not having Angel around. I can’t always count on him.” Alena knew that she eventually had to pull away from Angel. It would make things easier and on Cruz as well. They could just co-parent and Cruz was used to going back and forth anyway.
Carla frowned. She was all for Alena moving on, honestly whatever made her happy she was happy with, but she was conflicted. Angel was prone to making stupid ass decisions that he thinks was a good idea, but in reality, it was far from that. She was sympathetic to Angel, who basically became a brother to her, but maybe this was what he needed, to lose Alena to finally prompt him to do something. 
“You’re right, you can’t. But I always thought you would do it slowly, not rip the bandaid off.” Carla slightly laughed. “Alena, are you really okay? It’s me, you don’t have to lie.”
“I’m not, not at all. But I always figured it was going to hurt, I didn’t think it would hurt this much.” Alena felt herself tearing up, but she tried to hold back, tired of always shedding tears.
“Alena, you can’t keep doing this to yourself. You have to make a stand. If you want to stay away from Angel, hold your ground, but if you want to stay until it’s done, then stay. But for once, think of yourself. Angel will never hate you for thinking of yourself, maybe this would wake his big butt up.” Carla wrapped an arm around Alena’s shoulders, pulling her close to her.
“He told me he had feelings for me.”
“And you don’t believe him.”
“Am I supposed to? He tells me that then next thing I know, he takes it back. I just don’t want to fall for it. I feel that he just tells me that to keep me grounded cause he knows I have feelings for him.” Carla agreed. Angel definitely knew Alena had feelings for him, but she doubted that Alena would believe it. It was definitely a dick move on Angel’s part, but Carla knew it had something to do with Angel’s own insecurities of not deserving Alena. That if he gave her enough, she would stay, but joke was on him, Alena would eventually reach her point. 
And this was her point.
They were supposed to divorce after the fifth year. 
“Good on you Lena, it was time for you to walk away.” Carla softly squeezed her arm. “What about Cruz?”
“I’ll always be here for Cruz.”
“Look, I get it, you don’t want to believe Angel has feelings for you, but Angel almost always takes it back right away. Did he take it back this time?” Carla didn’t want to push Alena, but she had to do her due diligence.
“No, he kept telling me that he had feelings for me.” Alena looked at their reflection on her television. She was always so grateful for Carla. One of the few women who didn’t befriend her due to her connections to the Reyes brothers and her older brother. “I don’t know. It’s not about Victor or anything, it’s about me and Angel, it always has been. Maybe it was a mistake I stood by him, but have you seen him with Cruz? He’s so happy, so good with him. He’s always felt inadequate in their family, but now he has Cruz, a family of his own.”
“Don’t do that Alena, you’re Angel’s family. Look, I’m not his biggest fan right now, but you should see how he talks about you. Whenever you’re not around it’s my wife this, my wife that, my wife and Cruz did the funniest thing.” It was the reason Carla slightly favored Angel. Whenever Alena wasn’t around him, he always spoke about her. “I’m not trying to convince you to stay, but I also want you to know that Angel is a big dummy, your big dummy.”
Alena wipes her tears, slightly laughing. “He really is, I miss him so much.”
“He misses you two you know, he’s miserable with you. He’s also a pain without you. He’s not talking to EZ, so she bugs me more.”
“Did you know about the deal?”
Carla sighed. “I did, but Angel chooses to ignore it because he knows you listen to me.”
Both women laughed knowing that’s most likely the reason Angel was talking to her. And he didn’t expect anything from Carla. EZ and Felipe were different, they were his family and they shunned him as always.
“I’m serious though, you’re Angel’s family. You, Cruz and Angel, that’s what he needs, that’s what he’s needed for the last few years.” Carla leaned her head against the top of Alena’s head. “I love you Alena, you’re my best friend, but I also want you to know that this time, I don’t think Angel is going to take it back. I think he finally realized what you’ve been waiting for, he just hasn’t come out and said it yet.”
Alena remained silent, letting Carla’s words sink in. She wasn’t sure where they stood, but whatever it was, she wanted to move forward. Whether it would be with Angel or not, that was yet to be determined.
==================
Coco watched as Angel busied himself with the vehicle in front of him, Angel had been picking up more hours when Cruz was with Alena and taking on more runs to keep himself busy.
It’s been a month since Alena put her foot down with whatever was going on in their relationship and Angel has not been taking it well.
Not even close.
Coco has seen Alena a few times, he drove up to San Diego to see her and she looked better than Angel, but this distance was taking a toll on her as well. She came to the scrapyard and Vicky’s to do her weekly drop off, but she avoided Angel as much as possible.
Watching them do this, it was painful, and he thought it would be what pushed Angel. But from what he understood, Alena put a wall between them and Angel couldn’t tear it down as he was accustomed to do so.
“How long is this going to go on for?” Gilly was watching Angel as well, breathing out the smoke from his lips. “He isn’t talking to his brother and he’s barely talking to Alena.”
“There’s just so much he could take.” Riz added. “Is Alena with the Italian now?”
“No, she’s getting closer to him, but from what I understood, she’s just busying herself with her job.” Coco was coming over Alena’s later. Letty has built a relationship with Alena and was currently over at San Diego, taking her away from the craziness of Santo Padre. He appreciated Alena’s help knowing she would be a good influence on Letty. She took care of Cruz while Alena was at work. “This isn’t healthy man,” Coco shook his head.
“What can we do?” Gilly questioned. 
“For once man, I don’t think we can interfere. If we do, we might hurt Alena and none of us want that. Maybe this is for the best. Angel took advantage of having her around for all these years. Alena deserves to be happy.” Coco threw his cigarette butt to the floor. “And maybe her happiness isn’t with Angel anymore.”
Angel took out his phone after he wiped the grease off of his hands. It was nice to busy himself so he didn’t constantly check his phone. Usually, he would have a picture of Alena and Cruz on their latest adventures, but Alena rarely texted him these days. They were very formal and to the point. He didn’t know how much more he could take, but he would give her time.
He would do anything to appease Alena.
Angel was a prick and he thought she wouldn’t last long. Alena has tried putting space in between them before, but was always able to charm her and she came back to him.
This time around he wasn’t able to do so.
She was fed up.
Rightfully so.
He treated his feelings for her like a yoyo and he was a fucking idiot.
“You good?” Bishop’s voice broke Angel from his thoughts.
“Yeah prez, I’m good. You need something?” Angel slipped his phone back in his pocket.
“Coco tells me you sleep in your car these days.” Bishop was well aware of what occurred with Angel and Alena. 
Everyone did. 
Alena was slightly putting distance between herself and the club as well and no one was a fan.
Angel has been sleeping in his car from Sunday-Thursday in Alena’s parking structure. He didn’t want to be far away just in case Alena needed him. He felt pathetic, but he tried to sleep in his home after he dropped off Cruz and he couldn’t. He became anxious and all the thoughts wouldn’t turn off.
They quieted down when he was in her parking structure.
It wasn’t ideal, but he couldn’t let her go.
He didn’t want to push her, so it was the second best thing. Luckily, he was cool with the security guards and they didn’t pay him no mind when he slept there.
“Yeah, I can’t sleep at the house without Cruz.” He couldn’t sleep without Alena, but having Cruz slightly made him feel at ease.
“Angel, you can’t keep doing this.”
“I’ll do it for however long it takes. I’ve always pushed Alena and this time, I want to give her time. I want to let her come to me.” Angel pushed the hood of the car closed, leaning against it. “I honestly don’t know how to fix it.” Angel chuckled as he placed a cigarette in between his lips. “She closed me off. Alena has never closed me off.”
Bishop sighed, leaning against the car beside Angel. “Have you told her you love her?”
“Did everyone fucking know?” Angel mumbled under his breath as he shook his head. “I did, I just don’t think it registered.”
“Angel, even a blind man could tell you love Alena. You have a hero complex and Alena was the perfect damsel in distress. Somewhere between that and now, your dynamics changed and Alena is the one whose saved you. She let you become a father to a son your ex gave away to spite you.” Bishop fucking hated Valeria. “She married you, became Cruz’s mother, and was content with whatever you two had because Alena has always love you. Now, she’s twenty-nine years old with nothing to show for. She gave away her 20s to you and Cruz. She stood by and smiled at all those girls at Vicky’s knowing there was a possibility they all slept with you while she was gone.” Bishop always adored Alena. She was a genuinely kind person who never expected anything back from anyone. Her actions was purely selfless and it was rare for him to see. It was the reason most of the Mayans men were protective over her, even going against Angel at times since their brother couldn’t get his head out of his ass. “Never once did she expect anything from you, want to know why?”
“Why?” Angel felt that familiar pressure on his chest, this ache whenever he thought of all the sacrifices Alena made for him and Cruz. People rarely spoke to him about it, but he wasn’t obtuse, he knew the lengths Alena went for him.
“Because you’re her angel, as cheesy as that fucking sounds. You saved her when she was drowning in her own pain and she would forever be thankful for that. And because of that, she doesn’t think you could fall for her.”
“I’m so in love with her, it’s fucking suffocating. I can’t breath without her. I can’t sleep without her. I’m at a fucking lost.” Angel threw his cigarette butt to the ground. “I’m fucking losing her to that pendejo and it sucks.”
“Then I guess it’s time for you to truly fight for her.”
“What you mean? That’s what I’ve been doing.”
“No, you’re playing a pity party hoping Alena will realize how pathetic you are right now.” Bishop chuckled. “It’s time for you to man up and show Alena why you deserve her.” Bishop clapped a hand on Angel’s shoulder, giving him a soft squeeze. “Try to do it before the second week of August cause I got big money on this.”
Angel laughed genuinely for once in the last few weeks. “How the fuck are all of you always making a bet on Alena and I?”
“Cause we’re fucking invested. You have two weeks to fix this, don’t disappoint.”
Angel knew he had to fix this with Alena. He wasn’t sure how much more his sanity could take.
==================
Angel settled in his car for the night letting out a sigh. Every night when he was done with whatever club business he had to handle, he made his way to Alena’s apartment, parking at a free spot the security guard let him take up. It was within sight of her car and the elevator so it kept him at ease. 
It was ten at night so Cruz and Alena should be sleeping.
“You really do this every fucking night?” Coco questioned. 
He decided to accompany Angel tonight, just to see what he did when he went to San Diego.
“Yeah man, only way I can sleep.”
They heard the laughter before they saw them. Cruz walked out of the elevator with Victor holding his hand. On his other hand was a trash bag. Angel sat up then watching as his son was animatedly talking to Victor who was paying attention.
If Angel was honest the fucking whole thing killed him. Alena was preparing for this life without him and he just couldn’t have that. They came out from where the bins were, Victor now carrying Cruz. 
He was fucking playing stepdad to his son.
“Don’t bro,” Coco dissuaded Angel knowing the look on his brother’s eyes.
“I can’t do this man.” Angel sighed, closing his eyes. “I can’t fucking do this.” This feeling of dread just seeped in and he felt nauseous.
“Angel, come on, no one would ever replace you.”
“Maybe not to Cruz, but what about Alena?”
Coco sighed. “This was your own doing. I told you to tell her what was going on, but you know, you became complacent.”
“Coco, I literally don’t need this right now.”
“Tough shit, you didn’t want to tell her you love her, fine, now you have to live with that decision. Don’t play this pity party. You love her? Prove it. You want her to stay? Deserve it.”
Angel was not happy with the Church of Coco, but he definitely needed this. And he was going to show Alena he was worthy of her, he just had to break down her walls. He wasn’t used to being the one that Alena closed off. Seeing her do it to her father, he was proud of her. 
Her doing it to him?
The worst fucking thing.
==================
Alena frowned at Coco’s message. Angel slept at the parking structure in his car? She was frustrated at him. How could he do that? He knew he had a bad back and it was the reason they got that expensive mattress that would help with his back pain. She watched as Letty and Cruz were finishing off Moana. 
This past month has been hard avoiding Angel, but after the reports Coco was giving her, he was making it harder and harder on her to continue this. She missed Angel terribly, she never thought this was how dependent she was on him, but this was painful.
Whenever she saw him, all she wanted to do was hug him, care for him, but she couldn’t. She had to protect herself.
But not at the expense of Angel’s health. 
Cruz wasn’t taking this too kindly either. He was confused and she shouldn’t have put him through this, but she just explained to him that mommy had loads of work lately so she had to stay in San Diego. 
It worked for now, but she wasn’t sure how long it would.
“Can you just put us all out of our miseries and talk to the Giant?” Letty didn’t mind staying with Alena in San Diego, there was more to do and Alena was amazing. At times, she wondered who Angel fucking killed for Alena seeing as how devoted she was to him, but after seeing how Angel was without her, it was evident that Angel was definitely more into her than he let on. He was pathetic and honestly, it kind of made her like Angel more. He wasn’t Coco’s obnoxious best friend. He was Alena’s obnoxious husband.
“Letty, I’m sure he’s fine.” 
“Oh, I’m sorry, have you had to deal with him these past few weeks? He’s annoying. He sleeps in his car just in case you need him so he can be here immediately.” Letty didn’t believe much in love or romance, but seeing Angel and Alena, she might actually start believing in it. “And you think he doesn’t love you? Pssh, you’re fucking crazy.” 
“Ooh, Lele said a bad word.” Lele, a nickname Cruz made for Letty and it was her favorite word.
“Sorry Cruzie.” Only mommy and Lele could call him Cruzie, no one else. 
“It’s okay,” he hugged Letty’s middle before he continued to watch Moana.
“You two are so cute.” Alena gushed, taking pictures of them.
“Yeah, we are.” Letty grinned. “So are you going downstairs or you’re gonna keep punishing yourself?”
“What?”
“Don’t you think that maybe you’re putting distance between you and Giant because you feel bad for kissing Victor?”
“What?” Alena always admired Letty. Due to her circumstances, she had to be more mature than anyone her age. She was strong and just pushed through everything. Alena was going to make sure she was taken care of, that she didn’t have to feel alone again. “That’s crazy.”
“No it isn’t, you decided to protect your heart, I get it, but you feel like you did Angel wrong by kissing Victor, but you didn’t. You two are technically not together. You’re punishing yourself because you hurt Angel so you’re keeping yourself away since you don’t feel like you deserve Angel’s devotion to you.” Letty looked at Alena who was sitting on the armchair with her legs under her. “You’ve given up a lot for Angel, that’s what Coco tells me. He finally realized how much he really needed you and it seems like you have as well. Go get your boy, the other Mayans are plotting on how to kill him.”
Alena sighed, closing her eyes. She didn’t see it that way. She wasn’t punishing herself, this was just for the best so they could get used to the arrangement. This was so complicated and fucked up.
But she wasn’t going to let Angel sleep in his damn truck. 
Grabbing her keys, she made her way downstairs, taking the stairs since she was too wired to wait on the elevator. She could have sworn she heard Letty say thank god and explain to Cruz where mommy was going. When she reached the parking lot, sure enough, Angel’s car was right there. Walking to the car, she saw Coco who muttered a thank god. He exited the car and Alena handed him her keys. 
“Don’t do this again and if you do, just give all of us a heads up.” Coco kissed her forehead after he pulled away from hugging her. 
Alena got to his window, and watched as Angel was laying on his side, arms crossed over his chest. She frowned knowing how uncomfortable this must be for him. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the window, startling Angel. 
His eyes focused on her, and she saw a small smile appear on his lips.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” Angel opened the door. 
Alena moved to stand next to him, frowning. “Why are you doing this Angel?”
“I can’t sleep at home alone.” Angel studied her, making sure she was okay. “Sorry, if you don’t want me to be here I can leave.”
“No, I just,” Alena wanted to tell him that she did want him here, she always did. “We bought that bed for a reason because of your bad back from that football injury in college.” It was during his brief stint in college. Angel played football and had so much potential, but he was injured and he was never really able to play again.
“I know, but it didn’t matter how comfortable I was, I couldn’t sleep.” Angel’s eyes connected with hers, man did he miss seeing her. Just being in her fucking presence. “You doing okay? How are you?”
“I’m good,” she smiled, her hands folded in front of her. She wanted to reach out to him, smooth back his growing hair, run her fingers through it, but she had to keep to herself.
“I miss you, Cielo.” Angel sighed. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear that, but I really do. I can’t fucking sleep without you.”
“Do you want to come upstairs? I don’t like you staying here.” Alena offered. She didn’t tell him that she didn’t sleep much without him as well. 
“Do you want me to come upstairs?” Angel questioned.
She looked up at him then. “Yes.”
Angel internally cheered, overjoyed by this whole situation. He didn’t know who the fuck told Alena, but he didn’t care, just to be able to see her he was thanking every deity out there. 
He followed her up, noticing that she still kept the distance between them. He unlocked the door for her when they arrived in front of her door and held the door open. When they walked in, Coco was on the couch getting ready to sleep.
“Letty brought Cruz to the second bedroom, you two good?” Coco mostly looked at Alena since he was done with Angel today.
“Yes,” she nodded her head and smiled. “Good night Coco.”
She made her way to her room, stopping at the door to wait for Angel. He looked at Coco and mouthed a thank you.
“Yeah you fucking owe me.” He chuckled, turning the television on.
Angel walked in Alena’s room and she closed the door behind her once he was inside. She got into bed at her usual side and turned the television on. Angel joined her once he stripped to his undershirt and boxers. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he was pretty sure that it was due to Alena’s presence that he felt more at ease. She laid on her back and he did the same.
He was becoming sleepy, but he was trying to stave it off so he could just enjoy being around her.
“I missed you too.” She broke the silence between them and Angel just let out a sigh of relief turning to Alena.
“I can’t do this Alena, I’m going fucking crazy without you. Please don’t continue this, I get you’re trying to protect your heart, but I don’t know how much I can take.” Angel waited for her to react, he saw the tears spill from her eyes. “Cielo, if this is what you want, that’s fine, I just, I miss you so fucking much.”
Alena turned to him and she moved till her arms were around him. Angel’s arms immediately wrapped his arms around her. 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be selfish. We can just keep it how we’ve always done it till we separate.” Alena made up her mind. She was just going to cherish these moments with Angel and go from there. 
“You’re not being selfish Alena, you’re far from that.”
Angel was going to confess to her soon. He couldn’t let her go, this was such an eye opener for him. He would be lost without her, he would die without her. He was going to convince her that he was worth it, that he deserved her.
She gave up so much for him.
It was time he repaid her tenfold.
Alena was the love of his life and he was done playing games.
==================
Angel has been giving Alena space ever since they reconciled three days ago. They were back at their house and Alena kept sleeping with Cruz, which was not ideal for him. When they woke up the next morning, Alena was talking to him, but she kept her distance, which he could respect. But he just wanted her to be playful with him again, to blush every time he flirted with her.
He was going to win her back.
Currently, he was at Vicky’s playing with the guys before going home to have dinner with his two favorite people. He’s avoided EZ successfully and he planned to do so till he was ready to forgive his younger brother.
Angel laughed as everyone around him groaned after he put down another winning hand. 
“Seems to be my night boys, let’s do another hand.” Angel ordered before he left the table to use the bathroom. 
His phone began to rang, Myrna who was standing behind Angel’s chair noticed it. She picked up the phone and smirked.
‘Wifey ♾👑💍’
“Hello?” She answered. The guys looked at Myrna in curiosity, she was far too bold to answer someone’s phone who clearly disliked her. But none of the guys made a sound to stop her.
“Hi, sorry, I think I called the wrong number.” Myrna heard Alena’s confusion.
“No, it’s the right phone. Angel’s busy, can I take a message?” Myrna’s smirk grew knowing that this would hurt Alena. 
“The fuck are you doing?” Coco grabbed Angel’s phone, checking the caller ID. “Are you fucking insane?” Coco walked away, placing the phone on his ear. “Lenny, hey, Angel went to the bathroom. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, sorry, I was gonna ask him to buy the VapoPads for the humidifier, but it’s okay, I’ll go get it.” 
He could see the thoughts running in Alena’s head and he couldn’t have that, they just made up. He couldn’t fucking deal with mopey Angel again, fuck no. 
“Lenny, don’t let Myrna get to you, you know Angel isn’t interested in her.” Coco reasoned.
“No, it’s okay, I don’t need an explanation. I’m gonna go to Target with Cruz. You don’t have to let Angel know I called.” Alena requested. “You guys have fun, remember to wrap it up. Please tell Maxine the cake is ready for Olalla’s birthday.”
“Alena, I’ll go to Target, just stay home.” Coco knew that Alena was having her seasonal allergies right now. The last thing he wanted was for her to go outside when she should be resting. 
“No, you’re fine, I don’t want to intrude.”
“What the fuck are you doing?” Coco turned around and found Angel behind him giving him a curious look as to why he had his cell phone and saying Alena’s name. 
“That bitch Myrna answered Alena’s call, insinuating she was busy with you. Handle that.” Coco kept Angel’s phone to his ear, hearing Alena’s disagreement with his actions. “You know she’s been targeting Alena right? That night at the club, it wasn’t the first time she’s given her shit. Now be Alena’s husband and handle her.”
Angel’s eyebrows furrowed, his good mood down the drain because of this stupid woman. She was a thorn to his side that he never paid much attention to, but knowing he mistreated his wife more than once, that was fucking unacceptable.
He made his way over to her and Myrna’s smile could only be categorized for him as creepy.
“I’m going to say this once, and only once. I’m not fucking interested and never will be. I’m married and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t give you the time of fucking day. Who the fuck do you think you are to answer my phone when my wife is calling?” Angel got in her face, making her step back due to his intimidating stance. “Stay the fuck away from my wife, if you even breathe the wrong way towards her, I have a bullet with your name on it.”
Myrna nodded her head before running up the stairs. Gilly, Creeper and Riz looked on at Angel, impressed by his words.
“About fucking time.” Gilly clapped.
“The fuck? You all know this has been an ongoing thing?” Angel sat back down on the table, looking over at Coco, slightly worried that this put things between him and Alena in a bad place again. “Why didn’t any of you tell me?”
“We didn’t want to fall out of grace with Alena.” Riz answered. “She said she had it handled, we never let her go too far.”
“That’s not the fucking point, she’s my wife, she should have told me that she was being mistreated by one of Vicky’s girls.” Angel was frustrated with Alena. She always did this. He knew he couldn’t fight every battle for her, but this was fucking ridiculous. How many more times have Alena endured shit from women and not told him?
“It’s Alena, she knew you would have waged war against all these women.” Creeper reasoned. “You have to let her fight her own battles.”
“So how many of these women did you all fight for her?” He knew his brothers were hypocrites. They all had a soft spot for Alena.
“All of them of course.” Coco joined the conversation, placing Angel’s phone on the table. “Alena needs the VapoPads.” 
“Next time this happens, please fucking tell me. I’m not going to fight these women, but I just want to know what’s going on with her.”
“You’re so fucking whipped.” Creeper teased.
“Don’t give a fuck, you fuckers are just jealous that Alena’s my girl.” Angel slipped his phone inside his kutte. 
“Yeah, if we didn’t like you so much we would have made a move on Alena.” Gilly shook his head. “Fair game if we all met her at the same time.”
“Tough shit, she’s my wife, always will be.” 
==================
Alena sneezed into her mask as she made her way down to the medicine aisle at Target. She paused and sneezed before continuing to walk. Cruz was walking beside Alena, holding her hand. 
“Bless you mommy,” he told her, looking up at her. “Mommy, why didn’t daddy get it?”
“Daddy is busy baby, don’t you want to go on an adventure with mommy?” Alena looked down at Cruz who smiled up at her.
“I always like going on adventures with you.” 
“Cute kid.” 
Alena looked up and as luck would have it, Dante was standing at the same aisle she needed to go to. She immediately stepped in front of Cruz and Dante held his hands up.
“Hey, you know I honestly mean no harm.” Dante knew the kid was Angel’s and judging by the ring on Alena’s finger, he finally made a move. “I’m glad Angel got his head out of his ass and married you.”
“What are you doing here?” Alena questioned.
“Visiting my sister, just came to pick up some VapoPads for my nephew’s humidifier.” Dante held the box up. “Your guard dog isn’t here?”
“Right behind you, asshole.” Alena looked up and found Angel standing tall, his hands holding his kutte by the zippers, gloved hands covering his rings. “What are you doing here? Thought we had a talk.”
Dante froze up and turned around facing Angel.
“Daddy!” Cruz ran to Angel who easily picked him up. 
“Hey, man, I honestly just ran into her.” He quickly turned to face Alena, the frightened look on his face surprised her. Dante was always so confident and sure of himself. Nothing hardy scared him. “It was nice seeing you, I’m sorry again Alena for the way things ended.”
Alena just nodded her head. Angel kept his eyes on Dante till he was out of sight. He looked over at Alena, shaking his head. 
“Why are you so stubborn? I told you I was picking it up.” Angel picked up the box of VapoPads making his way over to her. 
“And I also told you I got it.” Alena countered taking the VapoPads from him.
“Cruzito, mommy’s stubborn huh?” 
Cruz shook his head. “No, mommy just knows you forget.” Angel doesn’t know why he bothered, Cruz always took Alena’s side.
“Me?” Angel tickled Cruz causing him to shriek in delight. “Doesn’t daddy take care of you and mommy?”
“Yes.” Cruz nodded his head, coughed a little due to the laughing fit he had.
“So Daddy wouldn’t forget right?”
“Mmm, yes, but mommy said you were busy.” 
“I’m never too busy for you and mommy.” Angel looked at Alena as he said that. She was walking in front of them and she didn’t skip a step, but he knew he heard her. Alena chose not to acknowledge Angel’s words. She had to get used to doing things on her own, she couldn’t rely on Angel.
They went to the self checkout, paying for the VapoPads. Angel held Alena’s hand then, walking her to her car. He parked his motorcycle right next to her vehicle.
He buckled up Cruz, closing the door once he was set.
“Did you eat?” Angel questioned as he opened the door for Alena.
“I made pasta, but I wanted to get the VapoPads first.” Alena placed her purse on the front passenger seat.
“Okay, I’ll see you at home.” Alena slid in the seat and before she could close the door, Angel prevented her from doing so. “Hey, that thing with Myrna, you know it’s not true right?” They literally just made up, the last thing he wanted was for Myrna to get to Alena.
“Yes, of course not. I would like to think you have some standards.” Alena teased. Coco talked her off the ledge and after everything that happened with Myrna, she trusted that Angel wouldn’t do anything with her. 
“Yeah, I do, you’re my standard.” He was pushing it, but he wanted her to be flirty and playful with him again. Maybe if he showed her it was okay, then she wouldn’t be opposed to it.
Alena blushed, playfully pushing Angel away. “You’re trouble.”
“Let me get a kiss.” Angel puckered up and she giggled. 
“Nice try.”
==================
Alena got out of the car and opened the door for Cruz who jumped out of the car. Angel has Cruz’s backpack while Alena carried Cruz all the way inside the school. 
It was Cruz’s first day of school. 
It was the day Alena had been dreading, but she was excited for Cruz as well. It would be good for him to meet kids his age and it was a plus that their neighbor and Cruz’s best friend Devin was in the class with him.
“Mommy and Daddy will come at three, okay? Stay with Devin or the teacher then we can go get a snack. What do you want to have Cruzie?” Alena was rambling on because she was nervous. How would Cruz do with other kids? Was he nervous? 
Angel smiled watching Alena. She couldn’t sleep last night due to how anxious she became. No matter how many times he tried to reassure her, nothing got to her. He understood, he was nervous too, but he figured he had to seem less anxious to keep Alena sane.
They stopped in front of the classroom and he had to laugh at how fate could be.
“Monica?” Angel came face to face with his ex-girlfriend, Monica Avalos. They were together for four years and broke up when she left to further pursue her education. It hurt when it first happened, but over the years they kept in touch and he was happy for everything she’s achieved. 
“Angel Reyes, still a looker I see.” The two embraced, confusing Cruz. 
“Mommy, who is daddy hugging?”
“That’s your teacher.” Alena answered. The one that got away, she knew how much Angel and Monica meant to one another. It was crazy that Monica was his teacher. Alena looked at Monica’s ring finger and there was no ring.
Oh lord, it was like those romantic films, this was their chance to reconnect.
“Alena, oh my god, last I heard you were going to Paris.” Monica walked over and was going to hug her, but Cruz has his arms wrapped around her. “Oh hello, you must be Cruz.” She gave Cruz space, not wanting to overwhelm him. “I’ll be your teacher Ms. Avalos.”
“Hello,” Cruz looked at Angel who gave him an encouraging smile. He looked uncertain now, noticing how his mother tensed up. “Mommy, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine Cruzie, mommy is just nervous cause it’s your first day of school.” She placed him on the ground and crouched before him, holding his hand. “Mommy packed you a snack and you can share with Devin too, okay? Be a good boy for Ms. Avalos. I love you.”
“Okay mommy, I love you.” Cruz hugged her and Alena fought her tears, not wanting to be that mom. 
Angel crouched beside Alena and gave his son a hug and a kiss on the head. “Daddy and mommy will be waiting for you.”
“Cruz, your mommy and daddy were my friends when I went to school.” Monica heard the gossip around town, but she didn’t think it was true. She was always confused as to how it happened. She thought Cruz was Alena’s child and Angel was just helping her out. It turned out it was the other way around especially since Cruz looked so much like Angel. “And you’re married.” She smiled. “Always thought you would end up with EZ.” Monica teased Alena knowing it would irritate Angel.
“Haha, so fucking funny.” The two kept in touch these past few years, so she knew he was married to Alena. 
“Angel, language.” Alena scolded him.
“Sorry cielo.” Angel kissed her cheek.
Monica envied them, mostly Alena. She always had Angel wrapped around her fingers, it wasn’t even funny. She never mistreated Alena or hated her, she knew that somewhere down the road, Angel would get his head out of his ass and she was glad he finally did.
The two stood up, handing Cruz his backpack. 
“Let’s go Cruz, say bye to mommy and daddy.”
Cruz waved goodbye to them before running in the room when his eyes landed on Devin. Angel wrapped his arms around Alena, leading her away after saying goodbye to Monica. Once they were outside, Alena cried a bit harder and Angel just hugged her.
“Cielo, don’t cry.” Angel kissed the side of her head. It wasn’t like Cruz never did school before. He has a hybrid for kindergarten, which was also a daycare. But that wasn’t as bad as this. He was starting first grade, he would have homework and field trips. “Cruz is going to have so much fun and at least Monica is his teacher.”
Alena nodded her head, pulling away from him and wiping her tears. They went back to their car and drove home. Angel had a shift at the scrapyard for a few hours, but he was free after that.
“I’ll drop you off at the house then pick you up before we get Cruz.”
“Sure.”
Alena remained quiet and she just mostly paid attention to her cell phone. Angel hoped she wasn’t rattled by Monica’s appearance. 
“You okay?” 
Alena nodded. “Yes, sorry.” She felt stupid for fretting over Monica. It’s been years since they were together, but it was too convenient that she came back around the time she was divorcing Angel. This was their second shot and Alena was the one before his forever. She let out a bitter laugh, startling Angel.
“Hey, you’re overthinking this, don’t let that shit sink in.” Angel knew what she was thinking and he wasn’t going to let that sink in. Monica didn’t mean anything to him, she was just a memory. “Monica means nothing to me, get out of your head.”
Alena turned to Angel, surprised that he knew what she was thinking. “Don’t act brand new cielo, I know you, I told you, I have feelings for you and have had feelings.” He took her hand in his, kissing the back of it. “Let’s go grab food and just stay at the clubhouse with me, I don’t want to leave you alone cause god knows what you’re gonna conspire against me.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “It’s fine Angel just drop me off.”
“Nope, you’re stuck with me.”
==================
Alena was sitting in the office with Chucky, when a customer walked in. 
“Howdy John.” Chucky greeted the man that walked in. 
Alena looked up and greeted him with a smile before going back to the files she was organizing for the yard. 
“I’ve never seen you around,” John commented, leaning against the countertop of the office that separated the customers and the workers.
“Oh, I don’t work here often.” Alena answered once she realized he was speaking to her.
“Better not miss my opportunity then, you want to grab dinner sometime? I’m new here so it would be nice to have a local take me around.” John smirked, watching as Alena looked over at Chucky.
“Oh, is he your husband?” He was slightly judging her as Chucky wasn’t much of a looker, but ugly men usually got the most beautiful women.
“No sir, but I’m sure her husband wouldn’t appreciate you hitting on his wife.”
“I don’t see a ring on your finger.”
Alena cussed under her breath. She had taken off her ring since she washed her hands. Her ring was loose and she was afraid it would slip off of her finger. 
“Oh, I was washing my hands.” Alena took it out of her pocket and slipped it back on. “But I am married and not interested.”
“I’m sure a friendly date wouldn’t be so bad, just take me to the spots around town.” Marriage was a farce for John. A beautiful girl like this woman before him wouldn’t be happy with just one man. “Maybe I can entice you enough to leave your husband?”
“Can I help you?” Chucky and Alena looked over at Angel who heard the whole exchange.
“Just trying to get your secretary to give me her number.”
Creeper who was standing behind Angel, moved in front of Angel, making sure his brother didn’t do anything crazy.
“I’d be careful, Angel is her husband.” Chucky warned.
John looked back at Angel and then at Alena. He knew he fucked up. He’s heard of the Mayans and the last thing he wanted to do was get on their bad side.
“My bad bro, I didn’t know.” 
Alena stood up and tried to diffuse the situation. “It’s okay, he didn’t know Angel. It’s fine.” Alena made her way over to Angel and wrapped her arms around him. She didn’t want him to fight anyone for her behalf.
The way Angel quickly relaxed, it always surprised Creeper. He was hot tempered and acted on impulse, but Alena just had this sense of calm and control over him.
Alena stood on tiptoes and kissed Angel, which surprised him, but he was completely distracted after that. Who the fuck was John? Where were they? His girl just kissed him after a month or so, he just needed to bask on that.
John quickly excused himself and left. Creeper just chuckled and patted Angel on the back. But nothing could get to him. He had his girl in his arms.
“You just have to be so damn cute cielo.” He playfully scolded her, kissing her again. 
“Shut up.” Alena tried to pull away, but Angel just kept his arms around her. 
“Just stay like this.”
“Is it close to his time yet?”
“No babe, it’s only 930, we dropped off Cruz an hour ago.”
Alena groaned, resting her head on Angel’s shoulder.
“It’s literally too early for this cute shit.” Coco teased as he walked by them. 
“You're just jealous, you want a hug?” Angel extended an arm towards Coco making him laugh.
“From Alena, sure.”
“Nope, fuck no.” Angel wrapped both arms around her again.
“You’re so needy.” Coco rolled his eyes, shaking his head.
“Let me get another kiss.” Angel bent down and kissed Alena once more earning groans from the people around them. Angel lifted one of his hands and flipped them off.
“I rather have them kissing than fighting.” Coco chuckled, happy that they were finally back in good terms.
“Come on, let’s go take a nap, you slept a whopping three hours last night.” Angel led her to the clubhouse, she waved goodbye to Coco and a Chucky.
Once inside, the cool air made Alena sigh. Angel wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading her towards the back.
“Hey, no fucking, it’s too early.” They heard Taza tease making Hank and Bishop laugh.
Alena blushed and Angel just laughed. 
“I mean, if you really want to cielo, I would not be opposed.” Angel whispered into her ear, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
“Stop it,” she hit his stomach. 
They entered Angel’s designated dorm room in the clubhouse, a place he hasn’t used in years. He’s had a few escapades with Alena here, but it was rare since he was mostly at his home or hers. Alena immediately took off her flats and slipped under the covers. 
“You want to change baby?” Angel took off his sweaty Romero Brother’s work shirt and changed into a white muscle shirt. 
Alena couldn’t help but check him out. It was sinful how good Angel looked. She was going to enjoy these last few months with him. This was so depressing. 
“No, I’m okay.” Alena pulled the blanket to her chest since the AC was blasting in Angel’s room and she was trying to remain as modest as possible. She felt like an idiot for doing so since Angel has seen everything, but a little boundary didn’t hurt anyone. 
“Are you cold? Do you want me to turn off the AC?” Angel stood beside the bed, waiting for Alena’s answer.
“No, it’s okay,” she took off her glasses and turned away from Angel. 
He knew what she was doing and he didn’t want to push her. But she just kissed him, what would be so bad with cuddling?
“Cielo, you don’t want to cuddle with me?” Angel slipped in beside her. 
“I’m okay,” Alena kept her back turned to him. 
Angel started poking her back, Alena had to pay attention to him. This was unacceptable. Finally after ten pokes, Alena turned around and she glared at Angel. He chuckled, awing at her attempt to look annoyed.
“Baby, you look so cute glaring at me. Come on, cuddle with me.” Angel pouted. Alena hated the man before her. She did not want to cuddle, she literally hasn’t slept on the same bed as him since they made up. 
“No, your body heat is literally not what I need right now.” 
“Alena, you covered yourself all the way to your neck, I think you need my body heat.” He wiggled his eyebrows, pulling on her shirt. 
“No, I’m good, so good.” Alena shook her head, slapping his hand. “Behave or I’m going to Coco’s room.”
“Fine,” Angel huffed and puffed, turning away from Alena. This would work, he knew it would. All he wanted was to fucking cuddle. They did that before they were married. 
Alena didn’t want Angel to be upset at her. He was going to hold this against her the whole day. 
She sighed and scooted closer to Angel, wrapping her arms around him. Angel smirked triumphantly. Alena closed her eyes, not wanting to admit how much she enjoyed hugging him, or any contact with Angel. She really enjoyed any contact with Angel, he always made her feel safe, protected and comforted. If she was being honest, the thing she loved the most was being wrapped around Angel’s arms after a long day. When he would run his fingers through her hair when she was having an especially awful day. When Angel would hold her hand whenever she became anxious. 
God, she loved him so much, it was going to be awful to try and get over him.
Angel turned around, crushing Alena to his chest. 
“Thanks cielo,” he kissed the top of Alena’s head just as sleep took over. 
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