#(and i just want to play a new mercs game with him goddamn it)

[sapphire-weapon]

so i completed RE4 remake today

i’m not done with the game by a longshot and will probably continue to play it every day for the foreseeable future, but i don’t want to hear no shit from nobody about nothing

my perfect shooting gallery game was probably the achievement i was proudest of tbh because that took practice and patience and actually felt like a real display of skill

[darriness]

Fic: Roadie

Author: darriness

Word Count: 15321

Rating: M

Summary: Blaine Anderson is the lead singer of one of the most popular bands in the United States. His life is chaotic but he loves it. One day, a new sound engineer joins the tour and turns Blaine’s already chaotic life upside down.

Author’s Note: This idea came to me this past Saturday and would not let me go. So I wrote it! I hope you enjoy it (I personally love it lol). I thought about keeping this until the Glee Potluck thing but I was too excited. Thanks as always to my beta @darrenismydarcy. Enjoy!

AO3 Link

Blaine Anderson takes a deep breath and leans his head back against the cement wall behind him. He closes his eyes, brings his hands up to grab at the ends of the towel draped around his neck, and sighs out his next breath - quieting his body, quieting his mind, and letting his heart rate return to normal.

There is noise all around him but he doesn’t really hear it. It’s white noise on the periphery of his consciousness. He could go somewhere more quiet but he prefers to have this moment with others around. Everyone around him knows at this point to leave him alone anyway.

Perks of being the lead vocalist of one of America’s current hottest bands.

The Warblers formed the year after Blaine graduated high school. They had ‘borrowed’ the name from their high school glee club and spent four years playing seedy bars and bar mitzvahs before the right guy came to one of those seedy clubs and suddenly they were playing stadiums and dodging screaming girls.

Blaine has loved every minute of the last five years (really the last nine years but is he happy to no longer be living in a shoe box and eating cereal for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? Of course). He’s enjoyed the touring and recording and meeting fans and doing talk shows and he’s excited to see what the future holds. But sometimes, okay every time, after a show, he needs a few moments to recentre himself or fear losing himself.

He’s almost got his heart rate back down when he hears yelling. His eyebrows furrow over his still closed eyes. There’s usually no yelling backstage. Actually, he’s not sure he’s ever heard yelling.

“Yeah, well, you can go fuck yourself!” Blaine hears being screamed from down the hall.

Blaine picks his head up and blinks his eyes open, searching for the source of the shouting. The usual hum of the backstage hallway has gone quiet as every occupant turns to look at the two men yelling - well one man is screaming, the other is gesturing for security.

“I have been here for three years and you’re going to let me go? For what?! You haven’t given me a single credible goddamn excuse!” 

Blaine wishes he could remember the name of the man currently disturbing his serenity. He knows he works in the sound department for the tour but his name is escaping Blaine. The man he’s spitting at is Alan Merce - The Warblers’ manager.

“Frank,” Alan says with forced calmness as they are approached by two security guards. Frank Lesser, that’s the sound technician’s name, Blaine’s brain provides, “we appreciate all you’ve done for us…”

Frank scoffs and raises the finger at Alan, then at the two security guards, and finally at the entire hallway as he spins and waves the finger aloft, “Good luck, assholes! I hope this all tanks!”

Blaine watches in stunned silence as Frank is led down the hallway and out a side door of the auditorium. Alan takes a rough breath, hands on his hips and shakes his head before looking down the hall toward where Blaine stands. There are more people in the vicinity but Blaine knows Alan is looking at him when he gives a resigned shrug before turning and heading back into the room he came from.

“Well, that’s one way to leave a job.” Blaine turns to find Wes Montgomery, the band’s keyboard player, smirking as he approaches.

Blaine sighs, “This tour was going really well.” He says and Wes nods, “And now we need a new sound engineer.”

“If the new guy makes us sound like crap, I’m suing Alan.” Jeff Sterling, the band’s drummer, says as he joins the group. 

Wes chuckles but Blaine rolls his eyes, “I’m sure the new guy will be awesome.”

Jeff slings an arm around Blaine’s shoulders, pulling him into a sideways hug, “Awww what would we do without our optimistic Blainers?”

Blaine laughs and shoves away from the taller man, “I have to make up for all of you pessimists.”

Jeff turns toward Wes with a shocked inhale, who laughs, “Us? Pessimists?”

Blaine smirks, “Come on. I need a bed and we need to get on the road.” He gestures down the hall with his head toward the exit and the trio makes their way outside - onward to another city and another show.

— — —

Blaine wakes up to bright sun in his eyes the next morning. He squeezes his eyes shut further and groans. He enjoys the warmth the sun brings but could do without the glare. Even the tinted windows of the bus aren’t helping block it out.

He only has a moment to adjust before a pillow is tossed at his head, “Get up!” Jeff shouts jubilantly and Blaine groans again, “We’ve got places to go and things to see!”

“We’ve got a venue to go to and that same venue to see.” Nick Duval comments dryly, and when Blaine opens his eyes finally, he can see the brunette sitting on the bed across from Blaine’s, sitting sideways and strumming his guitar. 

“Where are we again?” David Thompson, the band’s bassist, croaks from his own bed further down the bus.

“Wes?” Nick asks, not looking up from his magazine.

“Milwaukee.” Wes answers around a yawn. He’s always the only one to know where they are.

There’s a smattering of groans and protests as the rest of the men realize how cold it’s going to be outside the bus on a January morning in Milwaukee, but Blaine just stretches lazily and goes over the itinerary for the day.

Sound check, press conference, radio interview, meet and greet, concert, bus to the next city.

Not overly different from how he spends most of his days on tour. There’s comfort in routine, even despite the craziness that is that routine itself for Blaine.

He closes his eyes for a few stolen moments, knowing he’ll have to get up and shower in a minute or two so that when he exits the bus to find at least a handful of fans hanging around it in hopes of meeting the band and getting a few moments of their time, he won’t look like he just stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He hears the other men start to shuffle around more and mentally goes through his itinerary one more time before joining them.

— — —

“I don’t understand how your selfie game is so strong.” Jeff is saying as he and Blaine enter the venue an hour later. There had been a group of fans waiting for them and while Blaine would sometimes like to not have to think about what he looks like when walking from the bus to the venue, he is fully aware that making fans feel special and valued is a part of his job. He prides himself on doing a good job at that, “I mean I have been trying to learn from you for years and mine are always blurry or I look like a crazy person.”

Blaine laughs as he pulls open the door to the main stage area and holds it open for Jeff to walk through first with a nod of thanks, “Steady hands.” He says as explanation.

Jeff scoffs, good naturedly, and then jogs off to hug Nick from behind as the other man stands talking to their lightning engineer, Theresa. He leaves a smacking kiss on Nick’s cheek who laughs fondly and reaches back to ruffle Jeff’s hair.

Blaine smiles at the interaction even though he feels slightly jealous. He misses the companionship a relationship brings. He tries not to think about how long it’s been since he was in a relationship because it just makes the ache a little worse to put a number on it. He just doesn’t have the time, energy, or frankly the trust needed to be in a relationship considering what he does for a living. Nick and Jeff were lucky to find love in each other.

“Anderson, come here!” Blaine turns to see Alan gesturing him over to where he stands with a group of people.

Most of the people are those Blaine recognizes and can name - crew from the tour that do various important jobs to make sure the five of them look good on stage. Blaine makes his way over and smiles at Alan and the others in the small circle they’ve created before his eyes fall on a new face.

The face isn’t looking directly at him, it’s looking back and forth between a sound board and Clark, the tour’s stage manager, but Blaine finds himself instantly distracted by it. The face is all sharp angles and smooth skin. It’s graceful pink lips and crystal clear blue eyes. It’s chestnut brown hair swooped high off the forehead. It’s...breathtaking.

It’s not until Alan waves in Blaine’s face that Blaine realizes the other man has been speaking and Blaine hasn’t been paying attention. He shakes his head and turns away from the face to look at their manager, “Sorry, what was that?”

Alan quirks an eyebrow at him, “You feeling okay, Anderson?” Blaine nods and Alan takes a deep breath of relief before gesturing in the face’s direction, “I just wanted you to meet our new sound engineer. He’s the best in the business. We’re lucky to have him. Kurt!” He calls across the circle and for the first time the face, Kurt, turns directly toward Blaine. The full on frontal version is just as, if not more, breathtaking, “Come meet our lead singer!”

The neutral, pleasant expression on Kurt’s face morphs quickly into something harder when his eyes land on Blaine. Blaine is taken aback by the heat of Kurt’s glare and he has to force himself away from looking around to see if something else could be causing Kurt to look like that. They’ve never even met, why does Kurt seem angry with Blaine?

“It’s...nice to meet you. I’m Blaine.” Blaine says, extending his hand with as much of a genuine, open smile as he can manage.

Kurt walks the few steps over to him and looks down at his hand with a slightly quirked eyebrow. Blaine has a moment of thinking that Kurt won’t take the hand before the other man reaches his hand forward and shakes Blaine’s with a smooth but cold two pumps. Blaine’s never described a hand shake as cold but this one definitely was.

“Charmed.” Kurt says with a smile that feels the opposite of warm (or charmed) before he’s turning around to walk back to the sound board and Clark.

Alan claps Blaine on the back before moving to deal with something else without another thought. It’s clear he either didn’t notice the cold way Kurt addressed Blaine or didn’t care. Either is possible.

Blaine stays rooted to the spot for a few more seconds as he stares at Kurt’s back. His routine morning has hit an unexpected bump. There are bumps he can anticipate, roll with easily because he’d almost known they’d come, this was not one of them.

— — —

Blaine has to admit that Kurt is amazing at his job. Not that Frank hadn’t been wonderful, but Kurt is next level. Blaine doesn’t think he’s ever sounded as good as he does over the next week, and even the cellphone videos he finds online, with their limited audio capability, prove that Kurt has a fantastic ear for acoustics. 

What Blaine doesn’t understand is why Kurt seems to hate him. Blaine is nothing but nice to the other man over the week, thanking him for a great job and trying to engage him in conversation, but Kurt rebuffs him every time. He’s always professional and not overtly mean or rude, he’s just….dissmissive is the only word Blaine can label Kurt’s behaviour with. Blaine has watched Kurt’s interactions with the other members of the band or crew, and while he isn’t the most bubbly of personalities, he seems a lot more friendly with them than he is with Blaine.

Blaine wants to let it go. He has more important things to worry about than whether or not the new sound engineer likes him, but for some reason he can’t stop thinking about it. Okay it’s not just for ‘some reason’. Blaine knows what the reason, or rather reasons, are. 

One, Blaine is used to being liked by everyone. He’s not arrogant about it but he’s noticed since he was young that people tend to gravitate towards him, and he can count on one hand the number of true fights he’s had over his lifetime (he still occasionally thinks about the time in third grade when his friend had thought Blaine had stolen his eraser, which he hadn’t, and stopped being friends with him for a full week). And two, well, Kurt’s really good looking. Blaine isn’t above saying he’s lusting, hard, after the other man (which is made all the more confusing by Kurt’s apparent dislike of him).

“I don’t know what to do.” Blaine moans to Wes as they sit across from each other in the sitting room of Blaine’s hotel room in Minnesota. They finished their first show in the city a few hours ago and are enjoying the hotel room stay until their second show tomorrow. They’re a few beers in and Blaine has spilled his dueling desires to rip Kurt’s clothes off and yell at him for being a dick.

“You need to have sex.” Wes says. Blaine looks up, sharply, from where he’d laid his head back on the chair. Wes shakes his head and waves a hand as he finishes the sip he just took, “I don’t mean with Kurt.” He clarifies before shrugging, “Though, I mean, there’s no law against that.”

Blaine shakes his head, “He hates me. He’s not going to want to have sex with me. And I’m not even sure I’d really want to with how standoffish he’s been.”

Wes pouts thoughtfully, “He doesn’t hate you.” Blaine shrugs, unconvinced, “But what I mean is you need to get out and sleep with someone else. Scratch that itch. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

Blaine shifts uncomfortably. It has been a while. Not only since he’s been in a relationship but since he’s had sex. He does need to get back on the horse, so to speak, wants to get back out there, but he also realizes how difficult that task is in his position.

“I can’t just go out to a bar and find a willing partner.” He says, “Could you imagine the headline? ‘Warblers’ Blaine Anderson seen out trolling for a twink’.”

“I didn’t know you were in to twinks.” Wes comments and then laughs at Blaine’s exasperated face.

“You don’t get it.” Blaine sighs, “You have a lovely girlfriend waiting for you at home, or who even comes to some of the stops. You don’t have to worry about a potential partner’s motives or true intentions.”

Wes nods, letting his beer bottle dangle between his legs as he leans forward, “I get that but...sometimes sex is just sex. I bet you’d find more willing partners with no ulterior motives other than having an orgasm than those who were out to make a headline.”

Blaine shrugs again and leans his head back in his chair to look up at the ceiling. Wes is probably right but Blaine also knows he’s probably not going to go out and find a random partner for a night.

He wants more than that.

Blaine has a fitful sleep after Wes goes back to his own room, which means he’s less than chipper the following morning. He gets himself a large cup of coffee on the way to the venue, and while he would usually grab extras for anyone wanting, he leaves the coffee shop with only his own and wraps his gloved hands greedily around it and scowls down at the lid all the way to the venue.

“Everything okay, Blaine?” Charlie, his personal security guard, asks as he opens the door for Blaine to hop out outside the stage door to the venue.

“Yeah, fine. Just tired.” Blaine answers shortly. Charlie shrugs good naturedly and opens the door to the venue for Blaine to walk through first.

Blaine is glad he doesn’t run into any of his bandmates on his way to his dressing room. None of the crew members milling about backstage try to engage Blaine in conversation, his band mates would be a different story.  He drops his jacket, hat, gloves, and bag with extra clothes onto the counter inside before grabbing his coffee and trudging his way to the main stage area for sound check.

“Hey Blaine!” Nick smiles, from where he’s sitting fiddling with his ear pieces on the steps to the stage, “Ready to make some fans’ days?”

Blaine blinks at him, uncomprehending. Nick quirks an eyebrow at him, “The contest to have fans watch our sound check?”

Blaine wants to bang his head against the wall. He’d completely forgotten about the contest (that had actually been his own idea). He barely has the energy or desire to get through a normal sound check, but to have fans present as well? 

“Great.” He answers with as much enthusiasm as he can muster before walking down the stage steps past Nick and over to the sound booth three quarters of the way down the floor.

He finds Kurt crouched down over a box of equipment, pulling pieces out to inspect before either putting them back or setting them on the ground next to his feet. He’s got a concentrated scowl on his face and Blaine uses the time before he announces his presence, or Kurt notices he’s there, to examine the gorgeous man in front of him.

“Morning.” He finally says and Kurt startles slightly before turning, still in his crouch.

He gives Blaine an unreadable expression before lifting his brows briefly and gesturing to the sound board, “Ears and mic are there.” He says simply and then turns back to the box he’d been shuffling through. Blaine rolls his eyes before grabbing the equipment from where Kurt told him it would be and stalking back toward the stage. 

How had he thought he was actually attracted to Kurt? Sure, Kurt is gorgeous but he’s also the most unapproachable and unfriendly person Blaine has ever met. It’s like talking to a brick wall. Blaine vows to get over the lust he feels for the other man. He can be just as aloof toward Kurt as the other man is toward him. They don’t have to be anything other than coworkers, they don’t even have to be acquaintances. Blaine is fine with that...well, he’ll work on being fine with that.

He finds out he’s got about fifteen minutes before the fifty people who won the contest will be there. He decides to spend that time alone with his coffee. If his band mates notice him acting differently, Blaine is thankful they don’t ask about it.

As the first fans start to filter into the floor area an excited buzz is immediately evident. Blaine throws his empty coffee out and shakes himself into his game face as he watches the members of the group enter. It’s a mixture of young children with their parents, 20/30 somethings (most dressed way more scantily then they probably should for the weather in Blaine’s opinion), and even a few probably in their 50s or 60s. The Warblers attract a wide range of fans with their mix of pop and acapella/acoustic tunes which is what makes them so marketable.

Blaine watches and listens as Alan greets the group as they settle on the floor space in front of the stage. He reminds them that this is sound check and not a full show and that there may be interruptions or mistakes as they work to make sure the sound is right.

Blaine figures the potential for error is small considering they just performed here last night, that this sound check is more a formality than truly a chance to figure out the acoustics of the space, but he appreciates Alan making that announcement. He also appreciates it when Alan reminds the fans to stay within the designated space and not wander. He can imagine finding at least one of them backstage or in their dressing rooms.

Alan turns to him and gives him a thumbs up before jumping down from the box he’d been standing on and briskly walking away to deal with something else. Blaine does a final adjustment to his ear pieces for comfort before bringing his microphone to his mouth.

He pauses for a second to allow Kurt the chance to make sure his mic is live before smiling at the crowd, “Welcome everyone!” There’s a few screams and claps, “We’re so glad to have you here to watch us stumble through making sure our sound works.” Laughter from the crowd as well as his band mates behind him, “We’re going to do a few songs for you. Enjoy!”

They start with one of their most popular songs. Blaine is more emotive then he usually is during sound check and interacts with the small crowd as they dance and sing along. He winks at a few and waves to the little girl who is bouncing up and down and waving to him from the front row. They finish the song without difficulty and as the crowd claps, he looks up at Kurt to find the man giving a thumbs up from the booth. He doesn’t look up from his concentrated scowl down at the sound board but the thumbs up is enough to let Blaine know everything went well.

They slide into one of their acapella songs, a dynamic, powerful ballad that even makes Blaine emotional every time he sings it. He watches as the crowd sways and the few couples in the crowd snuggle together at the touching, romantic lyrics.

He adjusts his ear pieces again but everything sounds fine. He can hear himself and his bandmates and nothing is amiss. They finish the song with a strong sustained note and Blaine smiles at the screams and clapping from the small crowd. Kurt once again gives him a thumbs up without looking up and Blaine nods to himself before smiling at the crowd. He may have been feeling grumpy before, but nothing brings him to life like performing in front of a crowd (no matter how big).

“All right, guys, we’ve got one more for you.” The crowd ‘aw’s’ and Blaine smiles, “Sorry! But we’ll see you for the show tonight, right?” The crowd screams and cheers as Blaine cues his bandmates to start their last song for sound check.

It’s one of their more upbeat songs and Blaine bounces around the stage, interacting with the other men as he sings. He comes up behind Nick on the guitar and sings over his shoulder as Nick leans back into him slightly. He goes to stand on the platform in front of Jeff’s drums and imitates David’s bass playing during a musical break.

He’s just getting into the bridge of the song when his mic suddenly cuts off. The backing vocals remain but his voice is no longer projecting. He furrows his brow at his mic and shakes it quickly, hoping that will get it working again but it doesn’t help. Blaine starts to quietly panic. As much as the crowd is prepared for things to potentially go wrong, Blaine hates when things go wrong in front of fans. These people are paying for this experience, they should get a perfect mini-show, and Blaine doesn’t want to stop the song on a high to deal with his mic.

As he turns to look across the venue at Kurt, he hears Wes ask the small crowd to sing the next part with them. Blaine is immediately grateful for his friend. Nine years of a working relationship, and eleven years of friendship, means Wes knows what Blaine needs in this moment. He needs the show to go on.

Kurt hasn’t looked up from his soundboard. He’s twisting dials and moving sliders but keeps his head down and doesn’t once look up to make eye contact with Blaine.

Blaine feels his blood start to boil as he shakes his mic again and tries to sing into it. Still nothing. He gives up, with the mic and Kurt, and looks down at the side of the stage to find Molly holding a new mic out to him. He smiles gratefully and hands her his useless mic before grabbing the new one. When he lifts it to his mouth to continue the song, his voice rings out throughout the stadium. It’s not perfect, hasn’t been calibrated perfectly for his voice, but it’ll get him to the end of the song.

The entire moment feels like it lasted ten minutes to Blaine but when he picks the song back up he realizes it was maybe more like thirty seconds. He finishes the song to raucous applause from the small crowd and he smiles, waves, and thanks them for coming before they are being shuffled back out of the venue.

He keeps the smile and polite wave up until the last fan leaves before his face drops into an angry scowl and he stalks down the stage stairs and over to the sound booth.

“What happened?” He asks when he’s close enough.

Kurt finally, finally, looks up from the controls and give Blaine a passive shrug, “I don’t know. Your mic must have shorted.”

Blaine sees red. No apology, no remorse for an error that occured with the equipment he’s supposed to be in charge of. Nothing. Just the same aloof and dismissive tone and attitude as usual.

“Did you do it on purpose?” Blaine asks and he can tell he’s caught Kurt off guard when the other man’s eyes widen in surprise. Good.

“You can’t seriously be asking me that.” Kurt says.

Blaine wants to go on. He wants to yell and scream at Kurt for being gorgeous and sexy and RUDE. But he suddenly remembers where they are and that there are people around, people watching them.

He huffs an agitated breath and puts his hands on his hips, “Can we discuss this some place more private?”

Kurt’s eyes once again widen for a split second before the unreadable expression is back, “Fine. Lead the way.” He says with a gesture.

Blaine marches off in the direction of his dressing room and assumes Kurt follows even though he doesn’t look back to check. When he reaches the blue door with his name on it, he pushes inside and only then turns to see Kurt coming in after him, “Should I close the door?” Kurt asks.

Blaine rolls his eyes, “It wouldn’t be private if it were open.” He snarks and Kurt raises an eyebrow before closing the door softly.

He turns back to Blaine with an expectant expression, “So…” He says when Blaine doesn’t speak.

Blaine glares at him as he tries to think of what he wants to say. If he isn’t careful he’s going to blurt out something about how beautiful Kurt is and how angry that makes him but he has to remember this isn’t about that right now.

“So you didn’t make my mic cut out on purpose?” He asks, trying to keep his anger in check.

Kurt sits primly on the arm of the small couch in the room and crosses his arms, “Of course I didn’t. I’m good at my job. I don’t sabotage the mics of the performers I work with. Could you imagine the reputation that would give me? You are not that important to lose the reputation I’ve earned for myself.”

Blaine feels an unexpected sting at Kurt telling him how unimportant he is. He likes to think of himself as having high self-esteem. A throw away comment like that should mean nothing especially coming from someone like Kurt. But it does.

He crosses his arms tightly over his own chest, “Why do you hate me?” He asks.

Kurt quirks an eyebrow, “I don’t hate you.” He says, simply.

Blaine scoffs, “Please. You are the most dismissive person I’ve ever met, and while you aren’t Mr. Sunshine with everyone, it’s worse with me. I have been nothing but nice to you and you treat me like I’m nothing but an annoyance. It’s not right and it’s not fair. So I’ll ask you again, why do you hate me?” When he’s done his mini-rant, he’s out of breath and his hands are clenched at his sides.

Kurt regards him for a moment in silence. His eyes scan Blaine’s face and then slowly drop along his body and back up. Blaine almost squirms under the scrutiny. What is Kurt looking for?

Finally, after what feels like an insufferably long time to Blaine, Kurt sighs and drops his gaze, fiddling with a loose thread on the arm of the couch, “So, are we going to sleep together now or do you want to yell at me some more?”

Blaine chokes on his own spit. He sputters and coughs and tears make his vision swim. Through them he can see Kurt regarding him with the same neutral, unreadable expression that he usually does. Finally, he gets himself under control.

“What?” He asks for lack of anything better to say as he wipes under his eyes.

Kurt shrugs, “I mean, you’re welcome to keep yelling at me, it’s kind of hot, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d like to get naked and put my cock somewhere in your body.”

Blaine almost chokes again. He stares at Kurt wide eyed and Kurt just lifts his brows in question.

Does Blaine really want to have sex with Kurt right now? A quick catalogue of his body tells him it’s definitely willing and able, but nothing has been solved. Blaine is no closer to figuring out why Kurt treats him the way he does.

Blaine’s head is spinning from the abrupt shift from angry to turned on. Well, he’s still angry, but he’s now also very turned on and there isn’t enough blood in his body for both reactions. Slowly his hands unclench at his sides.

Kurt does a once over of his body again and smirks at what he’s looking at. Clearly he can tell that Blaine’s body is more than okay with Kurt’s suggestion.

“I won’t ask a third time.” Kurt finally says around his smirk.

And it’s that, the cocky tone and smirk, that causes Blaine to lose it. He’s in front of Kurt in a heartbeat and brings their lips together in a bruising kiss by pulling the back of Kurt’s neck. Kurt doesn’t seem surprised by the sudden movement and shifts into the kiss like he was the one who had initiated it.

Blaine moans into Kurt’s mouth at the feel of Kurt’s tongue against his. He knows it’s been a while but he has had no shortage of partners over the years. None of those kisses had felt like this.

The pair war for dominance in the kiss and Blaine would very much like to win, but when it becomes clear that Kurt isn’t backing down, Blaine’s body decides for him and he surrenders under Kurt’s mouth.

He can tell when Kurt feels the shift because suddenly Blaine is on his back on the couch and Kurt is over top of him. It hadn’t taken much to get Blaine in this position, just a gentle push against his hips. Kurt props himself on his elbow on the narrow couch near Blaine’s head but lets most of his weight settle along Blaine’s side. 

They kiss feverishly and Blaine claws at the hem of Kurt’s shirt, desperate to feel skin. Kurt pulls back just enough to tug his shirt off and then lifts Blaine’s shirt over his head in a less than graceful move, but it doesn’t matter as they go back to making out.

Blaine’s skin is on fire from the noises coming from Kurt. He’s groaning and moaning just as much as Blaine, but it’s the soft sighs he gives every once in a while that are making Blaine’s heart race.

They run their hands along the skin that is exposed (Blaine along Kurt’s back and chest, and Kurt along Blaine’s chest and stomach) and continue to kiss. They kiss for so long that Blaine gets to experience a multitude of different kisses from Kurt. They started with a forceful kiss but now there is a mixture of soft, nipping kisses, wet, tongue-filled kisses, and deep sucking kisses. All of them leave Blaine breathless and by how much Kurt is panting when he finally pulls away to kiss along Blaine’s jaw, it’s clear that Kurt is breathless too.

Blaine moves his neck to give Kurt more access and threads his hands into the back of Kurt’s hair to encourage the movement. Kurt drops his hand to the front of Blaine’s pants and palms him through his jeans. Blaine’s hips arch into the movement and he hisses at the pressure.

Kurt pulls away with another smirk that Blaine wants to kiss right off his mouth, “So I recall saying I wanted my cock somewhere in your body.” He pants.

Blaine blinks. They can’t have sex right now. Not only are they basically strangers to each other, they don’t have all the necessary supplies. Blaine’s got condoms in his bag (he has a boy scout ‘always be prepared’ approach to life) but no lube. 

“I don’t have lube.” He tells Kurt and the other man shrugs a creamy, pale shoulder.

“Doesn’t rule out all of the options.” He says, “And leaves something open for next time.”

Blaine honestly doesn’t know how he feels about the prospect of ‘next time’ but he’s too focussed on ‘this time’ to really give it much thought, “Condoms are in my bag. Front pocket.” He says, gesturing to the black overnight bag on the counter across the room.

Kurt gives one more squeeze to Blaine’s erection and then gracefully gets up to make his way over to Blaine’s bag. Blaine sits up on the couch and presses a hand to his flushed neck while he waits. His mouth waters as he watches Kurt make his way back over to him, jeans slung slightly low on his hips, revealing tantalizing hips bones Blaine wants to bite.

When Kurt is standing in front of him Blaine realizes biting Kurt’s hip bones is something he can actually do. He hooks one hand into the loops on Kurt’s jeans and other on his ass before dragging him the last little bit forward and attaching his mouth to the protruding bone. Kurt groans above him and places a hand on the back of Blaine’s head, not pressuring or positioning, just seeming to anchor himself.

When Blaine’s given what he thinks is sufficient, and yet not at all sufficient (his brain is already thinking about next time apparently), enough attention to Kurt’s hip bones, he makes short work of Kurt’s button and fly. He tugs down Kurt’s pants and boxer briefs to rest under his ass and licks his lips as Kurt’s erection pops free. It’s gorgeous, just like the rest of him.

He takes the condom Kurt offers him and quickly rolls it down the hard flesh. Kurt’s hips are canting back and forth just a tiny bit, probably unconsciously, and Blaine grabs his hips to still them before taking just the head of his cock in his mouth.

Kurt gasps above him and Blaine takes more into his mouth, sucking strongly as he pulls back. He bobs his head a few more times before bringing one hand to stroke the bottom of Kurt’s cock and focussing on the head. He flicks his tongue around the head (a little more strongly than he would without the condom) and while he may be a little out of practice, the noises Kurt is making are enough to spur him on.

Blaine’s not sure how long it takes but soon Kurt is grabbing at his wrist and the back of his head and groaning, “I’m close.”

Blaine doubles his efforts and within a minute Kurt is moaning out his release into the condom. Blaine smiles to himself as he gently strokes Kurt through his orgasm. It’s a good feeling.

Kurt sighs above him almost lazily but then tenses and looks down at Blaine with wide eyes. Blaine’s about to ask if he did something wrong before Kurt is kneeling in front of him and tugging Blaine out of his own pants.

“Don’t have time for a condom. Need to get you off.” He says as he wraps a hand around Blaine’s cock. Blaine gasps and leans back against the couch, even if he’s confused by Kurt’s urgency, “You were so hot.” Kurt says as he pumps Blaine’s erection in his hand with a singular focus, “Oh god I need to make you come.”

Blaine is swept up in Kurt’s urgency and far sooner than he expects his hips are pumping erratically into Kurt’s fist and he comes all over his jeans, stomach, and Kurt’s hand with a long drawn out moan.

He pants up at the ceiling afterwards, flashes of light still dancing in front of his eyes. He hears Kurt get up and figures he’s probably disposing of the condom. He then feel Kurt tap his hip. He looks up at him to find the other man looming over him with an expectant look, redressed with his shirt and all. Blaine stares dumbly up at him before Kurt is smirking and tapping his hip again, gesturing for Blaine to lift his hips. Blaine does so silently and watches as Kurt right his pants and then grabs his shirt and tugs it over Blaine’s head.

Kurt leans his hands on either side of Blaine’s head on the couch, a slow smile spread across his lips. He doesn’t say anything, and Blaine’s not sure he himself is capable of speech at the moment. Instead, Kurt leans in and presses a gentle kiss to Blaine’s lips. Blaine closes his eyes into the kiss but opens them again when Kurt pulls away.

The other man smiles again, winks, and then is gone - out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Blaine stares after him for a moment before letting his head drop back onto the couch again. Wow.

— — —

Blaine’s not sure why he’s expecting a dramatic shift in his relations with Kurt after their moment in his dressing room. He’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, sure, but he’s also got his feet firmly planted on the ground. Sometimes an orgasm really is just an orgasm. Kurt was about as safe a partner as Blaine could find. Not in the medical sense (though he has no reason to believe otherwise in that regard) but in the ‘he’s not going to blurt anything to the press’ kind of way. They’d both gotten off and it had been hot. Nothing has to change.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t slightly stung when Kurt hands him his earpieces and microphone before the show that night without even a second glance. He drops the equipment in Blaine’s hands and by the time Blaine looks up from the pile to look at Kurt, Kurt is already off fiddling with Jeff’s battery pack.

Blaine watches Kurt flit around backstage while he puts his earpieces in and jumps when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns to find Wes smiling at him, one earpiece dangling down his shoulder while the other sits firmly in his left ear.

“Ready to put on a good show?” He asks with a smile. 

Performing gives them all a buzz, it’s why they do it, and as Blaine nods his answer he can see Nick bouncing on his toes across the small area they’re waiting in and David plucking an imaginary bass with fast fingers. Blaine can hear the hum of the crowd as they settle into their seats. It’s electrifying.

Wes usually comes to ask him if he’s ready and then will meander away to ask the same of the other men but this time he pauses, giving Blaine a calculating look that has Blaine looking at him with a quirked eyebrow.

“Something wrong?” Blaine asks.

Wes doesn’t answer, just looks over Blaine’s face and Blaine swallows thickly, “You got laid.” Wes says simply.

Blaine’s eyes widen, does he have a hickey?

“I’m sorry what?” He asks.

Wes rolls his eyes and then narrows them, “I’ve known you since you were fifteen. From the first time you told me Wallace Parin touched your dick all the way to when Marcus broke your heart. I, unfortunately, know what you look like after you’ve been…” Wes lets the sentence hang. Blaine’s not sure why saying ‘fucked’ in their current environment would be any worse than saying ‘touched your dick’, “So sometime between sound check and now...you had sex.”

Blaine swallows again and tries not to glance over in Kurt’s direction. He usually tells Wes everything but now is definitely not the time to talk about it and even confirming what Wes suspects will begin a line of questioning they don’t have time or privacy for.

Blaine shakes his head and coughs into his hands.

Wes’ eyes narrow further if that’s possible, “Who did you sleep with?”

“Everything all set?” Blaine jumps at Kurt’s voice and turns to find the other man standing in front of them. He’s looking at them with a cool expression and Blaine’s not sure if he heard their conversation. He’s sure Kurt heard at least some of it.

Blaine gives a jerky nod, “Uhh, yeah, yeah. Everything’s good to go.” He taps his ears and gives Kurt a thumbs up.

Kurt nods and looks at Wes, who mirrors Blaine’s thumb, before he’s once again gone. This time, leaving their little enclosure to undoubtedly make his way to the sound board at the back of the floor.

Blaine hopes Wes has forgotten their previous conversation but when he turns to the other man, Wes is smirking at him and Blaine has a sudden feeling that not only is the subject not dropped, Wes now knows more than he did before.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for Blaine, Wes doesn’t have time to comment before their stage manager, Clark, is gesturing for them to get into position. He turns away from his best friend and makes his way to the front of the area ready to step out from stage right. Wes takes the spot behind him but Blaine doesn’t look back.

The lights in the venue drop and Blaine takes a deep breath as the volume on the other side of the curtain in front of him increases tenfold. The screams and cheers are deafening even with his earpieces in and his blood sings with the energy of it.

This is what he was born to do. This is what he loves to do and he finds himself bouncing on his toes just like Nick was doing moments before as Clark pulls back the curtain and The Warblers take the stage.

— — —

Blaine is able to avoid Wes and his questions until they’re on the bus to their next stop (“Bismarck.” Wes informed them before telling them they should really start to pay attention to the schedule). David heads to his bunk right after the traditional shot of whiskey they all share after a show and Nick and Jeff are still so high on the performance that they giggle their way to the back of the bus (“Keep it down, you two!” David warns from his closed bunk).

Wes watches the couple go with a smile and fond roll of his eyes before turning to Blaine who, at this moment, wishes he was able to sleep this soon after a show. His heart rate may have dropped thanks to his after show ritual of leaning against a backstage wall of a venue and closing his eyes, but he’s still not tired.

Wes turns to look at him with the same smile he gave Jeff and Nick before it turns to more of a smirk, “So...Kurt.” He says.

Blaine sighs, “It just sort of...happened.”

“You’re not about to give me the whole ‘I tripped and fell on his dick’ excuse, are you?” Wes asks.

Blaine laughs and shakes his head, “No, it wasn’t an accident. But I was yelling at him about my mic from sound check…”

“Which you know wasn’t his fault, right?” Wes interrupts.

“Yeah, I know.” Blaine says, even if that had been his original assumption, “And then he basically said I could keep yelling or we could sleep together. I took option two.”

Wes hums thoughtfully, “So what happens now?”

“I don’t know.” Blaine shrugs, “We didn’t exactly cuddle and talk about our future afterwards. And he more or less ignored me at the show.”

“Is it something you’d want to pursue?” Wes asks.

Blaine sighs roughly, “I don’t know that either. Maybe? I mean, the sex was great. Like, really great.”

“I don’t need measurements.” Wes deadpans.

Blaine throws a throw pillow at him from the couch he’s sitting on. Wes catches it on the other couch and leaves it on his lap, “Anyway,” Blaine continues, “I don’t think he would want to.”

“You don’t think he would want to? Or you would want to?” Wes asks.

Blaine scrunches his face thoughtfully, “Both?” He says, “I mean, he’s been nothing but a dick to me, he probably hates me, and it’s not good to get into a relationship with someone you work with.”

Wes sighs, “Okay, first of all, I told you before he doesn’t hate you. He’s not overly nice to any of us. Has he ever been overtly mean?” Blaine shakes his head and Wes gestures toward him with a hand, “See? He’s not mean or hateful. He’s just...removed. And maybe there’s a good reason for that. We don’t know.” Blaine nods, thoughtfully, “And as for getting involved with someone you work with? It’s not like you suddenly started sleeping with David.”

“He couldn’t handle me.” They hear the muffled call from the bunk area of the bus and both turn with a laugh. A private conversation isn’t really a thing with the five of them, especially not on the tour bus. Blaine’s sure David has heard the whole conversation and that depending on how involved with each other they are at the moment Jeff and Nick have heard it too.

Wes sighs and leans forward to tap Blaine’s knee, “Look, I’m glad you had fun this afternoon. And maybe that’s all it’ll be. But my advice, that you didn’t ask for but I’m giving anyway, is that you talk to Kurt about it. Maybe this could turn into something.”

Blaine nods with a sigh. Talk to Kurt. Sounds so simple. If only Kurt would say more than two words to him at a time.

— — —

Blaine usually loves days off. They don’t have a show in Bismarck until tomorrow night and he usually loves to find something city-specific to do when he has free time.

Today, his head is too full and distracted to enjoy the city. He finds himself grabbing a coffee and going to the venue (Charlie, who he’s worked closely with for four years and has a good friendship with even though he technically works for Blaine, gives him a hard time for being a workaholic) just to walk around.

There is a basketball game that night and Blaine walks among the crew setting up for the event, making sure his credentials are fully displayed just in case someone wonders why he’s wandering around. They still probably wonder why he’s there, but they don’t question him and for a while he sits in a seat near the top of the bowl and watches a man buff the court.

He knows Charlie is around (probably a few rows behind him) but thankfully he doesn’t try to make conversation.

Blaine has no idea why Kurt’s got his head spinning so much. For all intents and purposes what they had could be classified as a one night stand (or a one afternoon stand…) and while Blaine hasn’t often partaken in that pastime, he has had a couple. Sure it may be a bit strange to work with Kurt afterwards, but like Wes said it’s not like he’d slept with one of his bandmates out of the blue. His professional interactions with Kurt are minimal when it comes to the face to face, so their getting off together really doesn’t have to affect anything.

It’s just that Blaine can’t get Kurt out of his head. He wishes he could, but he finds that Kurt is all he can think about. Whether he’s thinking about ways to make Kurt be more friendly, or thinking about Kurt’s hands or tongue on his body, his mind lands on Kurt related thoughts more often than it doesn’t.

He wonders what Kurt is doing today. Is he enjoying the sights of the city? Is he finding another companion to get close to (Blaine has an immediate negative reaction to that thought)? Or is he overthinking everything like Blaine? Can he not get Blaine off his mind?

Blaine shakes his head at that. Kurt doesn’t strike him as the type to overthink things or pine after someone. But that doesn’t stop Blaine from doing so with Kurt.

He sighs as he continues to watch the man buffing the floor (he’s now halfway done) and thinks this may not be a bad way to spend the day - staring down at a man just doing his job. Maybe Blaine will stay for the game tonight if they’ll let him. Empty his head of anything relating to his life.

A lot easier said than done…

— — —

The next afternoon, Blaine jogs down the stage stairs and toward the sound booth after sound check. He hasn’t said much to Kurt since getting to the venue and Kurt has been his usual aloof self, but Blaine had come to the decision last night that it would probably be best if they talked about what happened. Even if Kurt says that’s all he had wanted, at least Blaine would know.

“Hey!” He says, trying to sound upbeat as he hands Kurt his ear pieces and microphone, “Can we talk?”

Kurt makes brief eye contact with him before shrugging and handing the equipment to the assistant sound engineer to deal with. He follows Blaine back to his dressing room (this time a pale pink door with his name on the front printed on white computer paper) and once they’re inside Blaine spins to begin talking to find Kurt unbuttoning his shirt.

“I don’t have a lot of time.” Kurt is saying as Blaine stares at him, “We gotta make this quick.”

Blaine splutters as Kurt gets to the bottom of his shirt and lets it hang open over his undershirt as he brings a foot up to take his shoes off. Blaine just stares and when Kurt’s got his hands on his second shoe he stops and looks at Blaine with a quirked brow.

“Why aren’t you undressing?” Kurt asks.

Blaine swallows and finds his voice, “That’s...not really why I asked to talk to you.”

Kurt lets his foot drop with a soft thud on the carpet and stares blankly at Blaine, “Then what did you want to talk about?” He asks and Blaine gets a sudden feeling that even though Kurt asked for more information that he’s not particularly interested in hearing it.

“I…” Blaine starts, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened.”

Kurt shrugs, “We had sex. It was fun.”

End of story.

“So, that’s it?” Blaine asks.

Kurt furrows his brows, “I’m not...looking to date you.” He says, slowly, “If that’s what you’re after then maybe we should just leave it at that afternoon.”

Blaine tries not to feel offended at Kurt saying he’s not looking to date him. He had prepared for many different responses, Kurt not wanting to date being one of them, but he feels like he would have felt better if Kurt had left off the ‘you’ part of the sentence.

He nods after a moment, “I’m not looking to date you either.” He says.

Kurt nods too, but he’s still looking at Blaine with a wary expression, “Okay. Good. We’re on the same page.” He says and Blaine nods, “Are we going to still keep having fun?”

Blaine had thought his answer to that question would be no. He wasn’t going to be heartbroken if Kurt didn’t want to date him but to continue a purely sexual relationship? He wasn’t sure he has that in.

But now, looking at Kurt with one shoe off and his shirt undone, Blaine can’t remember why he thought continuing a purely sexual relationship was a bad thing. 

He nods again, still staring at Kurt’s chest, and can just see Kurt smirk from from above his line of sight before Kurt is advancing and pushing him back against the wall, connecting them in a kiss that leaves Blaine breathless from the start.

— — —

Having regular sex is awesome. Blaine knows that studies have shown the positive effects of regular sexual release with a partner, but he’s always surprised when it happens to him.

He’s more relaxed and yet more focussed than he’s been in a long time. He writes three new songs in the span of a weekend (one of which is written with Kurt asleep beside him) and bounces back from ‘show hangover’ quicker than usual.

He and Kurt meet up at least once every two days, though once they did manage to meet up and have a combined seven orgasms between them in the span of twenty-four hours (Blaine says that Kurt owes him one because Blaine lasted long enough for Kurt to get hard again after coming once).

The sex is fantastic. They advance to penetrative sex a week after starting their arrangement (once time and supplies were available to them) and now it’s a mixture of all manners of sex to get each other off. They perfect the art of the quick orgasm as they often meet up in Blaine’s dressing room after sound check but before Blaine is whisked away to another engagement. 

A few times there hasn’t been a soft surface in Blaine’s dressing room so they’ve had to resort to sex on one of the busses. Blaine always insists they go to Kurt’s bunk on the crew bus.

“Can I ask you something?” Kurt asks, one such time. They’re in Sacramento and Blaine feels like a cat in the sun as he stretches even though there is little direct light in the bunk area of the bus.

Blaine glances over at Kurt before answering. Kurt is stretched on his side next to Blaine (with his back to the wall of the bunk), head propped up on an upturned hand while he looks down at Blaine lying on his back in front of him. He seems just as relaxed as Blaine and Blaine marvels at the changes he’s seen in Kurt’s personality over their time ‘together’. He’s still aloof and standoffish most of the time but especially during these times, right after they’ve slept together, he’s open and joyful in a way Blaine wants to nurture.

“Sure.” He says, bringing an elbow up to rest under his head. His elbow hangs over the edge of the bunk (the bunks are barely big enough for one person left alone two fully grown men - even if Blaine is on the smaller side)

“Why do we never fuck in your bus?” Kurt asks, “I’m sure you’ve got your own king size bed and yet you always insist on doing it here.”

Blaine hums, “First of all, how come you haven’t brought this up until now? We’ve been doing this for almost two months.”

Kurt rolls his eyes and Blaine is instantly regretful of his remark, fearing Kurt will go back to being dismissive.

“Because whenever we make the decision I’m more interested in the orgasm then I am in the location.” Kurt answers with a smirk and Blaine inwardly sighs in relief.

“Ah.” He answers with his own smile, “Makes perfect sense. My second point though is...there is more privacy here. I don’t have a king size bed in the bus. We have bunks the same as you do and one or more of the guys is usually around.”

“Bullshit.” Kurt answers and there’s a bite to his voice.

Blaine shifts and looks at Kurt in surprise, “Why does that surprise you?”

“Because you’re one of the most popular bands in America right now. You could probably afford five individual busses at this point but you’re also the lead singer. I’m sure that garners special treatment.” Kurt explains.

Blaine pouts thoughtfully, “I’ve never seen it that way. We’re in this together. All five of us are equally important and it would get lonely being on a bus by myself. I like having the guys around.”

Kurt scoffs, “Can’t even be famous right.” He mumbles.

Blaine’s brow furrows, “Excuse me?”

Kurt sighs before pulling the curtain to the bunk open roughly and climbing over Blaine. He lands softly on the ground and starts to pick up the clothes they had left scattered, tossing Blaine his as he gets dressed himself.

“You have been given every opportunity and you act like nothing is different. You are FAMOUS, Blaine.” Kurt says.

“I’m aware of that.” Blaine says but Kurt isn’t really listening.

“You are famous and you should act like it.” Kurt continues.

Blaine hugs his jeans to his chest and looks at Kurt curiously, “How does one act famous?”

Kurt huffs, “I don’t know!” He shouts angrily.

“Kurt, I’m confused.” Blaine says, “You’re mad because I’m not being famous correctly but you don’t know how a famous person should act?”

Kurt stops putting his socks on and looks up at Blaine with blazing eyes. Blaine has seen Kurt aloof, in the throws of passion, and even relaxed and sort of sweet after their encounters. He’s never seen him angry.

“Of course I don’t.” He seethes, “I’m not the famous one.”

Kurt grabs his shoes from the ground and stalks off the bus in only his socks. Blaine is left blinking owlishly at the spot the other man just left. He’s confused and a little angry himself. What was Kurt going on about? There isn’t one way to be famous and there certainly isn’t one right way. Famous people are just regular people trying and sometimes fucking up but doing it all in the eyes of the public.

Blaine gets dressed slowly, his head still spinning, and exits the bus. He shields his eyes against the bright Sacramento sun but he becomes aware very quickly that it’s not only the sun he’s shielding his eyes from.

Flashbulbs are going off all around him and he blinks as they leave him temporarily blinded. People are shouting questions at him that he can’t really hear because they are layering on top of each other. The paps are here. Perfect timing. 

Normally, Blaine would be able to think of his own exit strategy but after the sex and his fight with Kurt his brain is a little slow. Luckily, Charlie swoops in and grabs him by the arm, more or less dragging him through the throng of people and into a waiting SUV on the street.

Blaine lands on the seat and immediately leans his head back against the headrest as Charlie gets into the driver’s seat, “Thanks.” Blaine says.

“I’m never far away.” Charlie says, looking at him through the rear view mirror. Blaine nods his thanks again. He knows Charlie knows he’s sleeping with Kurt, hell he’s sure half the tour knows it, but he’s even more grateful to Charlie for giving him and Kurt space while still being around.

Charlie pulls away from the curb and Blaine’s not even sure where they’re going. He can still see flashbulbs going off behind them as they drive away.

He sighs and lays his head back against the headrest, intent to try and slow his heart rate and let Charlie deal with the logistics. 

It’s a few moments later though that Charlie clears his throat from the front seat and Blaine picks his head up to look at him. Charlie is once again looking at him through the rear view mirror, his soft grey eyes holding a look of concern.

“I didn’t know whether to bring it up or not…” He says hesitantly and Blaine furrows his eyebrows. It’s been a while since Charlie felt like he couldn’t be open with Blaine about anything, “but ummmm did you get a chance to look in the mirror before you left the bus?”

Blaine furrows his brows further. What?

He tries to catch his reflection in the window but it doesn’t really show him much.

“Here.” Charlie says, before he’s pulling over and putting the car into park. He turns the rearview mirror so that it more faces Blaine and Blaine shifts to be able to look into it.

He’s instantly horrified.

He looks freshly fucked. And while yes, that’s exactly what he is, the tousled hair, flushed cheeks, and oh god hickeys are clear markers to anyone...including the paparazzi who just took about a million pictures of him...that he had just been sleeping with someone.

Charlie winces once he knows Blaine gets it.

Blaine knows that Kurt is wrong that there isn’t one right way to be famous...but this is definitely a WRONG way to be famous.

— — —

Blaine sits slumped in the conference room chair he’s in. It’s not often they have conference room meetings but back when they were younger and just starting out, conference room meetings were scheduled whenever any one of them stepped out of line and did something that could ruin the imagine of the band.

They happened a lot back then. They were still learning what wasn’t acceptable to do as humans let alone what was acceptable in the public eye. Blaine was the subject of fewer conference room meetings than his bandmates back then (Jeff is the reigning champion for most) but this one today, is all about him.

Clarissa, their publicist, sits at the head of the table. She’s got her head in her hands as she looks down at the papers in front of her. Blaine knows what those papers are. They are magazines (both credible and not so credible) reporting on ‘Blaine Anderson’s Tour Tryst’. Blaine hasn’t read or looked at a single one, but he knows they all say a variation of the same thing. ‘Illicit meetings’, ‘dating a crew member’, ‘is Kurt using Blaine to get a raise?’.

Blaine knows the paps don’t have Kurt’s name, or even any pictures of him, but they know (or at least heavily assume) it’s a crew member. Blaine looks around at his bandmates around the table and wonders why Kurt isn’t actually at this meeting. He’s sort of glad he isn’t.

“Look at you go, Blainers.” Jeff says, breaking the minutes long silence. Clarissa hasn’t even said anything yet, “Getting your very own scandal.”

“Sterling.” Clarissa says to the papers on the table, not lifting her head, “Shut. Up.”

Jeff, to his credit, does just that with a sheepish grin before Clarissa picks her head up and shakes it a couple of times, possibly to clear it.

“All right. So, this is what we’re going to do.” She says and doesn’t care to check if they’re paying attention, she knows they are. When Clarissa talks, you listen, “The four of you,” She gestures to Wes, David, Nick, and Jeff in turn (her finger and gaze lingering slightly longer on Jeff who looks at her innocently), “are going to keep your mouths shut. You have no comment on anything. At all. For the next little while.”

The four men nod their agreement. She nods at them before turning to Blaine.

“And you,” She says with a point, “are going to tell me who it is you’re  sleeping with so he and I can have a little chat. Oh god,” Her eyes widen as she looks off into the distance and then at Blaine, “it IS a guy right? I don’t think I have it in me to deal with it being a woman.”

Blaine almost laughs, almost, “It’s a guy.” He says simply.

Clarissa nods and takes a deep breath, “Right. And then after you are doing an interview with Ellen where you will say that overall you have no comment.”

Blaine blinks at her before nodding. He has no problem with that. He doesn’t like the fact that at this point the whole tour knows he’s sleeping with Kurt, so he’s totally okay with the world not knowing.

Clarissa nods back at him and takes another deep breath. She’s been their publicist since the beginning so he’s seen her like this quite a bit (re: aforementioned plethora of conference room meetings when they were first starting out) but not for a while. Blaine really like Clarissa and he feels guilty for having put her through this, even if it is her job.

“Okay.” She says with a deep sigh, “Now, I have some questions for you, Blaine, about the nature of this relationship. Do you want the others here for that?”

Blaine swallows. It’s not like he’s a stranger to such conversations. He had one with Clarissa when he first started dating Marcus, but with Marcus Blaine had known exactly where they stood and could answer Clarissa’s questions no problem. With Kurt? Blaine’s not even sure if there’s still anything between them considering how they left things, but he’s also not sure how to classify their relationship to Clarissa. Fuck buddies doesn’t seem appropriate for a business meeting, but they aren’t even really friends with benefits because they aren’t really friends.

And why does Blaine feel like even if ‘fuck buddies’ was an appropriate term to use professionally...that it’s a lie?

Clarissa gives him an expectant head shake, her full head of auburn curls shaking with the movement, when he doesn’t answer and he shakes himself out of his thoughts to answer, “Ummm, you guys can go.” He says.

He gets weird looks from his friends but they don’t say anything as they leave. The five of them have no secrets from each other. Usually it wouldn’t have even been a question that they would stay for the whole meeting, but Blaine feels like he’s on shaky ground and the less people around to watch him tremble at the moment, the better.

Clarissa waits until the door is closed before pulling out her phone and opening her notes app, “All right, Blaine, first up: who is it?”

“Kurt Hummel.” Blaine says to the table in front of him.

Clarissa hums but otherwise doesn’t comment, she’s good at her job, “And how long has this been going on?”

“A little over two months.” Blaine answers. Another easy question. There is a definite timeline, if nothing else.

Clarissa makes a note and then looks back up to him, “Is it serious?”

Blaine lets out a crazed laugh at this that he wasn’t expecting. It’s more bark than anything else actually, and Clarissa gives him a strange look. 

Blaine wipes a hand over his mouth. Is it serious? No. That’s the answer he should give. But...ever since Kurt left the bus three days ago, Blaine’s head has been in a tailspin.

Kurt’s words had hurt and confused him and while they hadn’t really been fighting about their arrangement, Kurt leaving had felt to Blaine like a break up. He’d been thinking about it a lot since. How lately he’d done everything he could to make Kurt get that happy, relaxed expression on his face, and that how when he was able to do it outside of sex it was even more satisfying somehow. How, when Kurt wasn’t available or not around, like on free days, Blaine would think about him potentially being with someone else and it made him feel nauseous. How getting to see Kurt was the best part of his day, sex or no sex.

Blaine feels his palms begin to sweat as he goes over all it in his head again. He has feelings for Kurt. Feelings for Kurt that extend further than wanting to simply sleep with him.

Feelings for Kurt he’s now going to basically have to share with his publicist, after just realizing them, before he even shares them with Kurt - if he ever decides or gets to share them with Kurt.

He looks up at Clarissa, who is staring at him expectantly again, and blinks, “I don’t know.” He answers.

Clarissa nods, apparently this answer isn’t detrimental, “Okay, that’s a conversation we can have with Kurt.”

Blaine pulls ups short, “Woah, what?” Clarissa looks at him, confused, “We?” He says gesturing between himself and the publicist, “Are not going to have anything with Kurt.”

Clarissa rolls her eyes, “Well, of course, you two would be having the conversation. But it’s fairly simple. It’s just a question.”

Clarissa has a different view on the world, at least when it comes to her clients. Whatever’s easiest to get the simplest, cleanest message out there. She doesn’t seem to realize that it’s not just a simple question.

Blaine shakes his head, “Kurt and I aren’t even together.” He says and Clarissa’s head snaps up from where she had been typing on her phone.

“What?” She asks.

“We aren’t together. We are, or at least were, just sleeping together.” Blaine clarifies.

Clarissa shakes her head, “But you’re Blaine. You don’t do that.”

She’s right, he doesn’t do that....

“Well, that’s what we were doing. Or are doing. I don’t know. But it’s not a simple conversation.” He says.

Clarissa puts her hands to her head and massages her temples, “I can’t process this right now.” Yeah, that makes two of us, Blaine thinks but figures they are talking about slightly different things, “I need to talk to Kurt and make sure he knows the rules. You need to figure out what the fuck’s going on and tell me so I can spin this into something that doesn’t make you look like a manwhore.”

Blaine really likes Clarissa, but he sometimes wonders if she likes them very much.

“Call me.” She says and then she’s gone.

Blaine leans his head on the table in front of him when he’s alone. He hasn’t spoken to Kurt in three days, as per Clarissa’s instructions (he wasn’t allowed to really interact with any crew members before she could get to him), and he has a strong desire to see him and talk to him, as well as an equally strong desire to stay as far away from him as possible.

He doesn’t know what Kurt’s thinking or how he’s feeling and with Blaine’s new (or rather newly discovered) feelings he feels like a raw and exposed nerve. He feels like talking to Kurt will either soothe him or cause him to fray even more.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have the luxury to think about that right now (though of course he still will). He has an interview to get ready for. At least he has a good relationship with Ellen Degerenes. That should work in his favour.

— — —

He and Kurt are put into a room together like bickering school children later that day.

Blaine still has makeup on from his interview, which had gone well enough in Blaine’s (and thankfully Clarissa’s) opinion. Ellen had been lovely as usual - she’d asked him about the tour, about the band, and then about the pictures.

“I have no comment about those.” Blaine had answer dutifully because he really doesn’t. It’s no one’s business but his and Kurt’s...it just so happens everyone else disagrees.

He and Kurt sit opposite each other in a room at the venue. It’s different from a conference room because there isn’t a large table and chairs but instead smaller clusters of couches, comfy chairs, ottomans, and small tables. Blaine’s not sure what this room could be used for but at least it doesn’t feel so formal as he and Kurt sit in comfy chairs with a small circular table between them.

They haven’t spoken since they entered the room almost ten minutes ago and they’ve made very little eye contact (which is why Blaine knows so much about the room - the couches have tiny red x’s stitched into them) but Blaine can feel Kurt. It’s like now that he realized he has feelings for the other man, Kurt has gotten into his every cell.

“So, Clarissa seems fun.” Kurt snarks, breaking the silence.

Blaine chuckles, “She’s intense but very good at her job.”

Kurt nods, “She told me I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone we were fucking.”

“Were you planning on it?” Blaine asks.

Kurt shrugs, “Not really. I mean my dad, but I tell my dad everything and he’s not really one to go blabbing stuff around, especially not about his son’s relationships.”

Blaine feels a pull in his chest at the word ‘relationships’ but tries to tamp it down. It’s a word that describes a lot of different situations. He tells his overexcited heart to calm the fuck down.

“Fame isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Blaine says, next. He’s not sure if he’s acknowledging Kurt’s understanding that any romantic relationship Blaine may get into has to be treated differently than a non-famous person, or if he’s calling back to their fight but whichever it is it causes Kurt to scowl.

“I don’t need lessons on fame from you.” He bites.

Blaine sighs, “I wasn’t trying to give you a lesson on fame.” He says.

Kurt recrosses his leg even tighter over the other and crosses his arms, “Not everyone wants to be famous.” He says, not making eye contact.

“I didn’t say everyone does.” Blaine defends.

“Some people are very happy with the simple non-famous lives they are living.” Kurt continues.

“I know that.” Blaine says and he’s suddenly very confused about the conversation they’re having. They’re supposed to be talking about their arrangement. Figuring out what it all is so Clarissa can get ahead of any story. But that’s not what they’re talking about at all.

Kurt pouts thoughtfully at him and Blaine can see the same blaze in his eyes that he saw on the bus. It’s so different from Kurt’s detached, aloofness and his relaxed happiness. It’s a force. A force to be reckoned with.

While Blaine doesn’t necessarily like that that blaze is directing ire at him...he does actually prefer it to the aloofness.

“What’s going on?” Blaine asks.

Kurt narrows his eyes at him as if trying to figure out the question. Blaine himself isn’t sure exactly what he meant by the question, but he has a feeling that however Kurt chooses to interpret it is important.

Finally, Kurt licks his lips and looks up at the ceiling for a second. When he brings his gaze back down to look at him, Blaine can see tears glistening in his eyes. His heart lurches in his chest but he stays still and quiet.

“I resent you.” Kurt whispers, roughly. Blaine’s eyes widen in surprise but he doesn’t say anything and lets Kurt continue, “Not just you but...anyone who has fame. *I* want fame.” The blaze is back but it’s watery behind Kurt’s tears. He rolls his eyes and wipes under them with a rough hand, “I am talented and driven and so fabulous, and yet no one sees it.”

Blaine wants to say that he sees it, but he doesn’t think Kurt would appreciate the comment at the moment and he also doesn’t really know if Kurt has talent beyond sound engineering and fucking. And somehow he thinks Kurt wants fame for things other than that.

“No one’s ever seen it.” He whispers to himself with a far off look on his face. Blaine has a desire to know what, or who, Kurt is thinking about right now but Kurt continues, “So I went into sound engineering.” He shrugs and a hint of the aloofness is back with a flick of his hair, “I’m good at it, hell I’m great at it, and it lets me taste the dream I’ve had since I was five. But...I resent the bands. All of them. So, in order to keep my job and not do something stupid, I stay detached. It’s easier. And then you come along.”

Blaine instantly feels, with that sentence, that he did something wrong simply by being in the band that employed Kurt.

“I thought I could remain detached and still have you,” Blaine’s heart leaps at the phrase ‘have you’, “but then you made me feel things, and it all came up to the surface.”

Blaine feels his mouth go dry and his heart soars with hope, “I made you feel things?”

“Not all of them were good things.” Kurt says and Blaine pulls up short, “But most of them were. But with the good comes the bad, and all that resentment I was able to suppress for so long came out. And then you went and got yourself photographed looking thoroughly fucked…”

“I had been.” Blaine says in a shocked whisper.

Kurt rolls his eyes but there’s no bite to it, “Yes, well, sound engineering isn’t the only thing I do well.”

This makes Blaine laugh and some of the tension in the room dissipates as Kurt chuckles with him. The tension settles back in however as Kurt levels him with a stare that makes Blaine go quiet.

“What I’m trying to say is…” Kurt continues, “I have a lot of feelings and trying to deal with them in this current situation is kind of unbearable.”

Blaine nods, “I get that.” He does, if he didn’t have to deal with all this he wouldn’t. But does that mean Kurt’s going to leave? Leaving would probably solve a lot of their problems (and make Clarissa’s life easier) except for the bruise it would leave on Blaine’s heart.

“I need to ask you something.” The phrase is so similar to the one that had started this strange series of events that Blaine is almost afraid to let him ask it. He nods anyway to let Kurt know he can continue, “And your answer will sort of make up my mind on a lot of things.” Blaine nods again. No pressure. Great. Kurt takes a deep breath, “Clarissa told me what you were going to say on Ellen today and I need to know if it’s true.”

Blaine casts his mind back to the talking points Clarissa had given him and tries to pinpoint which one Kurt is asking about. There wasn’t much that had to do with Kurt and most of it he answered with some version of ‘no comment’ except…

“So, Blaine Anderson,” Ellen had said in that way of hers that makes the audience scream because they know she’s going to ask something scandalous, “Are you currently in a relationship?”

The audience screamed again and then went silent as Blaine chuckled and smiled, “No, Ellen, I am not currently in a relationship.”

Blaine looks at Kurt to find the other man looking at him with a guarded expression. He knows the answer he’d like to give, and the answer he probably should give. His mind wars with the two before he settles on something in between, “I think I don’t want it to be true.”

Kurt takes a shaky breath in and exhales just as shakily before giving Blaine a trembling smile. Blaine feels his heart speed up in his chest, “Good answer.” Kurt breathes and then he’s laughing. It’s a happy laugh and Blaine feels his face light up at the sound.

Eventually, Kurt quiets down and takes another deep breath in before looking at Blaine, “I still have a lot of negative feelings.” He says.

Blaine nods, “I understand. But…” He starts and Kurt looks up at him when he pauses, “I’d love to, if you’d let me, talk to you about them and see if we can work them out.”

Kurt licks his lips and gives Blaine a small smile, “I think I’d like that.”

They are quiet for a while, just looking at each other with small smiles before Blaine ducks his head shyly, “So...what does this mean?”

Kurt nods like he figured this question was coming. He sits up a little straighter and a little bit of that blaze is back, but this time it’s not negatively directed at Blaine, “It means we continue fucking.” He says seriously and Blaine blinks at him, “But that we do it while dating.”

Blaine laughs and nods, “I like that. Fucking while dating.”

Kurt shrugs, “Or, you know, after dating, before dating. The precise timeline for fucking is flexible but...there will be dating.”

“There will be dating.” Blaine repeats and the pair smile at each other again, “Can I kiss you?” Blaine asks.

Kurt bites his lip around a smile and nods. They meet in the middle, over the small table between them, and Blaine cups Kurt’s face to bring it towards himself. It’s a lot different than their first kiss, or really any of the other kisses they’ve shared since starting this whole thing. It feels lighter than all the others, but not in intensity just in general mood. It’s so light that they both end up chuckling into the kiss for no particular reason and soon it’s more a press of teeth as they laugh.

“Have you killed each other yet?” They pull apart as the door opens and Clarissa walks in without knocking, “Oh!” She pulls up short when she sees them, eyes wide before they narrow and she points at them with the hand currently clutching her phone, “Is this distraction kissing or ‘we’re together’ kissing because I’m okay with the latter but not the former.”

Blaine chuckles and looks at Kurt who shrugs, “‘We’re together’ kissing.” Blaine answers with a smile at Kurt.

Clarissa smiles at him fondly, clutching her phone to her chest for a brief moment before her face hardens and she points at them again, “This I can work with, but we need to have a meeting to go over more specific logistics, and for the love of God Blaine, at least for the time being, cool it on the hickeys.”

“Tell him that.” Blaine says, gesturing to Kurt who smacks him up the side of the head. Blaine chuckles and dodges any further attacks as Kurt gives him another bit lip smile (which are definitely becoming one of Blaine’s favourite sights).

Clarissa rolls her eyes, “All right, out you get. I need this room and you have a show to get ready for.” She says that to both of them and they nod, getting up out of their seats.

As they pass, Clarissa nudges Blaine’s shoulder with her own and when he looks over she’s smiling at him again. He smiles back before following Kurt out of the room.

— — —

Dating and sleeping with Kurt is even better than just sleeping with Kurt. After that afternoon, Kurt lets the aloofness drop and becomes more open with his emotions. They aren’t always pleasant emotions, but no one’s emotions are always pleasant.

They are used to being careful in terms of sleeping together, but finding covert ways to go out on dates is hard. Luckily it won’t have to be for long. Clarissa told them that once there is some distance between them and the paparazzi pictures from that morning, they can slowly start to release their relationship to the media.

Blaine knows it’s a steep learning curve for Kurt, how to be in a relationship with a famous person, but Blaine doesn’t bring overt attention to that. He knows Kurt can handle himself and he also knows Kurt wouldn’t appreciate the reminder of just how famous Blaine is.

“Come on.” Blaine whines one night after a show two weeks later as he and Kurt walk out to the busses, hands brushing subtly as they walk, “At least come in for a while. You don’t have to ride with us, even though I want you to, but just hang out with us.”

Kurt shakes his head, “No, that’s your bus. You never have crew on your bus after a show. It’s always you five.”

“But you’re not just crew.” Blaine says, stopping Kurt when they get behind one of the crew busses and leaning in to kiss him against it.

Kurt lets himself be kissed for a second before he pushes Blaine away gently, “Maybe not to you, but to them I am.”

Blaine shakes his head. He just wants Kurt around. He’s riding his usual after show high and right now he sort of just wants to...touch Kurt and be around Kurt and be surrounded by Kurt. He feels a little drunk to be honest even though he hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol.

“They don't. I promise.” He says but Kurt rolls his eyes. Blaine huffs, “Then I’ll come hang out in the crew bus.”

Kurt scoffs, “Hard pass. I already get enough shit for dating the talent. Don’t want to add fuel to the fire.”

Blaine pouts, he’s losing his high, “Fine.” He says, “Go back to your bus. I’ll go to mine. When you get over yourself, I’ll be here.”

He stalks away and into the dark entryway of his bus. He can hear the boys joking and laughing, and usually that fills him with happiness, but tonight he wants to be with Kurt. He wants Kurt to follow him and say he’s sorry for being difficult and that of course he’ll spend the evening with them.

He doesn’t though and Blaine makes his way into the brighter lit main area of the bus.

“Blaine!” Jeff enthuses from his spot leaning sideways against Nick, “It’s time for our shot.”

“This one was getting antsy.” Nick comments.

“He wouldn’t shut up about the fact that you weren’t here.” David says from his spot across from them.

“Sorry.” Blaine says simply, sitting down between Wes and David.

“Where’s Kurt?” Wes asks, conversationally, as Jeff pours their shot of whiskey.

Blaine shrugs, “On the crew bus.” He says, accepting his glass.

They take their shot and Blaine enjoys the burn of the alcohol down his throat and the feeling of tradition. He wishes Kurt had come with him but he’s happy here too.

The five split off into different activities after that. Nick and Jeff start whispering and David pulls out his phone to undoubtedly play Candy Crush. Wes, meanwhile, puts an arm around Blaine shoulders and pats one.

“You happy, Blaine?” He asks.

Blaine nods, despite the strangeness of the conversation outside, “Yeah, I am. You?”

Wes nods, “I am.”

Blaine nods back at him and they smile at each other until Blaine sees movement behind Wes’ head. He shifts his gaze to find Kurt standing at the entrance to the main area of the bus. He looks simultaneously nervous and determined and Blaine’s heart speeds up.

“Hey.” He says, getting up and leaving Wes on the couch. 

“Hey.” Kurt says, “I’m sorry.” He sighs, “I wanted to spend time with you too but...my lovely hangups got in the way.” He makes a joke of it but Blaine can tell he’s sincere.

“I told you I understand. As long as you talk to me about it.” Blaine says.

Kurt nods, “I’m trying.”

Blaine can see that. He smiles encouragingly at Kurt and holds his hand out. Kurt takes it and the pair make their way further into the bus. They sit side by side on the opposite couch from Wes and the other man smiles at them, “Good of you to join us, Kurt.” He says.

Kurt nods and smiles, “Thanks.”

“I’m not going to get any sleep tonight, am I.” David says, it’s not a question, “With the four of you.” He gestures between Nick and Jeff and Blaine and Kurt.

Jeff giggles while Nick and Blaine roll their eyes, and Kurt looks vaguely shocked, “You love it, David.” Jeff says and David rolls his eyes.

“Well, I think I’ll go try to get to sleep now so I can try and sleep through the noise.” David says and slaps hands with all four members of the band before smiling at Kurt, “Night Kurt.”

“Night.” Kurt says, softly.

The others stay up for a little while longer. They talk, they joke, and eventually Kurt obviously feels comfortable enough to lean into Blaine’s side. Blaine’s heart leaps and he subtly moves his hand onto Kurt’s thigh. Kurt grabs his hand in both of his and holds it there.

They sit that way until the other three head off to bed (Wes reminds Nick and Jeff to keep it down) and then Kurt picks his head up, “I can see why you’d want to be on a bus with them.” He says.

Blaine smiles, “It’s a brotherhood. A bus of my own would be so lonely. The option has been offered to me more than once, though.”

Kurt sighs, “You’re such a good person.”

Blaine laughs softly, “I try? But as far as the fame goes?” He shrugs, “My original goal was to make art and help people. Being famous means I can do both.”

Kurt purses his lips, “Maybe that’s why people like you should become famous and people like me shouldn’t.” Blaine tilts his head curiously, “I totally would have taken the solo bus.”

Blaine chuckles, “You are only twenty-five, Kurt. Your chance to become famous is far from over.”

Kurt shrugs, “Maybe. But I think right now I’m happy where I am.”

Blaine looks into Kurt’s eyes and sees sincerity, mixed with the blaze that never really goes away now-a-days. But Blaine has come to LOVE it, hell, he’s come to love Kurt.

His breath catches at the thought. He loves Kurt.

“I love you.” He whispers without consciously deciding to say it outloud.

Kurt blinks at him and is quiet for a long moment. Blaine thinks he should feel nervous about Kurt’s reaction, or maybe upset that he hasn’t responded, but instead he feels content to have said it (even if that compulsion was only seconds old when he followed it).

He smiles softly at Kurt and leans his head against the back of couch, “You don’t have to…”

“I love you, too.” Kurt interrupts and Blaine can feel his face split into an ear-to-ear grin.

Kurt gives him his favourite bit lip smile and they stare at each other, sappily in love.

“Oh just get on with it. You can’t NOT sleep together after that.” David calls from the back of the bus.

Kurt and Blaine turn to look back at the dark space and burst out laughing simultaneously.

“No privacy.” Blaine says with a shrug.

Kurt licks his lips and grabs Blaine’s hand, pulling him to his feet and kissing him briefly before pulling away, “Then let’s give them a show.”

Blaine loses his breath as he stares into Kurt’s eyes. Kurt smirks at him before tilting his head back to the bunks. Blaine snaps out of his stupor before nodding and letting Kurt lead him back to his bunk.

[ryttu3k]

Back to Bloodlines! Gotta go see a man about a gargoyle. Sidequests galore!

Back Downtown! First stop is the Chantry, see what Strauss can tell us about gargoyles.

Welp! Sierra’s already decided she’s going to help free this poor fucker. Also, lbr, probably tell Isaac just who created them. I wonder how she’d react if she learned that Gangrel were one of the clans they used to make them...

Checked my email and the first one was Jeanette asking for a booty call XD;;

Goddamn I love The Deb of Night.

SparklingWater wants me to tarnish a restaurant’s reputation so he can buy it. Fuck off and nope :) And Mitnick is sending me off to Santa Monica! Okay, I can do that, and visit people at the same time.

Weird, most of the Thinblood kids are gone, aside from Julius :-\

Emails received, first node activated! There’s also an interesting proposition from Bertram, so while I’m still in Santa Monica, will check it out.

Glad to see Merc’s finally cleaned up all the giant bloodstains XD Always good useful info, although I’m definitely concerned about his warnings about Chinatown XD;; Kind of a shame he’s a Cammy! (Although I do like how his response about Isaac is basically exactly the same, ‘shame he’s an Anarch’ XD)

Bertram wants me to find some CD when I’m next at the Warrens. Yeah, can do!

...okay fuck it I’m curious I’m gonna go see Jeanette XD;; Sierra’s super gay anyway why not?

Speaking of sugar daddies, Jeanette just said she’s got Nines and Isaac as her new ones. Alas, I think it’s just a very... Jeanette way of saying she’s quite literally in bed with the Anarchs, given that I’m 90% sure Isaac is gay and Nines is... uh, focused on his hateboner for SparklingWater XD

...Board games, huh XD

Yeah, fade to black with some very awkward sound effects XD;;

So, uh, if you do the board games option, she says, “Think harder... and dirtier.”

Top response to that is, “Cards?” Oh, Sierra.

Back to Hollywood! I think I’m going to check out the cafe and see if I can help the reviewer write a good review just to piss off SparklingWater XD Actually, no, Ash’s club is right there and there was another concerning headline about him, so that first!

Hm. There’s a guy with a katana. I am getting a bad vibe.

Okay I thought that was the case, damn! I could have sworn I heard the name ‘Caine’ dropped in the song playing here, and yeah, what do you know...

God Ash’s storyline makes me so sad. Also knowing he’s based on River Phoenix doesn’t help, either.

Dangit. Glitch again. It seems to be any time there’s NPC dialogue followed by an action? And yeah, looks like it’s a known thing.

Ah well. Going to do some other stuff while I mull over how to deal with this one. The clothes-swapping thing does work, but, you know. Humanity hit :-\

Talked to the snooty reviewer. I wonder if this is the character Diego Lobo is based on XD He even has the same li’l moustache! Basically did the whole, ‘Hi, I’m a big fan!’ thing and fucked off XD

Weeeell convincing the gargoyle to ally with Isaac was a little on the manipulative side XD;; On the plus side, no need for fighting, at least? And Sierra’s ride or die for the Anarchs, so she would have a starry-eyed, “They’re the good guys!” view over them...

Reported back to Isaac. And yeah, totally dobbed in Strauss XD Sorry dude I’ll ally with you next run. Do wish you can just tell Isaac outright, “I’ve joined the Anarchs, I’m only spying on the Camarilla”!

Huh. Welp. RIP Muddy.

Hey, Nossies! Do you think maybe it’s a health hazard for your large warren of vampires to have piles of sharp pointy splintered bits of wood lying around?

Found the CD Rom! Man, nothing dates a game like technology. Bet a modern remake would use a USB XD Awww yeah computer skill boost!

Huh. Made it to the salvage yard, guy in a suit flat out vanished. Obfuscate? HEY. STOP THROWING CARS AT ME. Aww jeez he started a fire good thing the game forgot about Rotschreck XD

I think that’s what we call a bittersweet ending. Talked him down without a fight, showed empathy, suggested he focus his energies on justice with the Anarchs. And like... yeah, not exactly good people he was targeting!

Let’s head back downtown and get that hub installed, then call it a day!

God bless invisibility mode, making my life so much easier. Just picturing Sierra looking around like, “Huh, I was nearly executed here!”

Next location is in Hollywood, and happily, there’s a mission from Beckett! :D That’s over in Santa Monica - meet with some guy to see about a Sabbat guy seen at the library. Beckett doesn’t want anything happening to the books, dangit!

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 33

Warnings: none

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @alievans007​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​

It’s six thirty in the morning when he steps out onto the front porch; barefoot and blurry eyed, still clad in just a pair of boxer briefs, cup of coffee in one hand and phone in the other.  After Nik’s call he’d fallen into a restless sleep; dreaming of Dhaka and the night at Gaspar’s house when he’d been given the five million dollar deal. This time he’d made a different decision; willingly giving both Ovi and Esme up in exchange for money and his freedom. Asif had been there, sitting in a darkened corner; watching and listening. A pleased, victorious smile on his lips as his right hand man brought over his two new favourite playthings. They’d been drugged; minds and eyes hazy, their movements sluggish and uncoordinated.  He’d had a change of heart at the last moment; offering his life in exchange for hers. Begging and pleading with Asif to ‘take me instead of the girl’.  Asif had just laughed, then grabbed her by the hair and forced her to look at Tyler. Mocking her, telling her to look at the big, strong man now; crying like a baby and bargaining to save her. How did that make her feel? Knowing he could be so weak? That she was the one capable of making him that way? Is that really what she wanted? Someone so pathetic? Or did she want a real man like him. Then he’d his hand had moved to her throat; fingers digging into the soft flesh with enough power and pressure to steal her breath. And he’d kissed her. Savagely. Brutally.

And she’d kissed him back.

Tyler woke up breathless; near sobbing. Tears spilling down his cheeks,  his heart thundering, and chest aching. Initially panicking at the unfamiliar surroundings and bolting upright, wide -almost terrified- eyes taking in everything around him; the furnishings, the color of the walls, his old friend sleeping soundly across the room, the cattle dog sitting beside the couch, curiously watching him.  And it hadn’t been until he’d glanced out the window and caught sight of the mountain range, tree line, and brush that reality had finally settled in.  He was no longer in Dhaka. Not at Gaspar’s outside the city limits.  It was seven years ago. Not now. He’d turned down the offer and Asif hadn’t been there; he’d never laid a hand on her and he’d never kissed her. None of that had ever happened. Just his mind -broken and in tatters- playing tricks on him. They’d made it out of Bangladesh. She was saife. At home. In bed. THEIR bed.

He’d been tempted to call; just to hear her voice; needing that extra bit of reassurance that everything was fine. SHE was fine. But he knew what the mornings could be like; up before the sunrise with the baby, then tending to Declan and getting breakfast made and three kids up and ready for school. Ovi would be there; promising to keep an eye on things and lending a hand whenever it was needed. Kyle couldn’t be relied on; too busy getting his rocks off with Salena. Or whatever the hell her real name is. And Tyler had briefly wondered if getting into Kyle’s life had been part of whatever the new neighbor was up to; a way of weaseling her way into their lives for some fucked. The uncertainty eats at him; knowing that something isn’t quite right yet not being able to prove it or get the information that he needs. Way too many things pointing towards trouble; the Jeep with the stolen plates and the driver with the earpiece that had been watching him and the kids. Salena getting out of the passenger seat with a stack of folders under her arm and no record of her actually existing. All the ingredients, everything needed, to create a huge goddamn mess.

His head throbs. A mixture of lack of sleep and not eating properly. The cravings are intense. When he’d gone into the kitchen to make himself a coffee, he’d been greeted by all the whisky and scotch bottles that littered the counters and shelves; some empty, others half full, a handful still sealed.  And his hands had been shaking as he’d considered it; one on a glass and the other around a bottle of scotch. His brain exhausted from dealing with the nightmare,   trying to piece together the bullshit with the neighbor, and the call from Nik and the threats she’d made.  A single wouldn’t hurt. That’s what the demon on his shoulder had been telling him. That he could stop at just one and walk away; get enough to satisfy the craving, get the taste of it on his lips and tongue.  And he’d been close. So close. Seconds away from pouring the scotch into a glass.  And then as quick as the desperation and the need had come, it had disappeared. Leaving him feeling  weak and shamed and completely disgusted with himself.

Now he sits on the edge of the porch, feeling ground with his feet pressed against the damp earth. It had rained considerably last night; puddles of mud, lower temperatures, and a fresh and familiar earthy smell in its wake. Sadie hasn’t left his side since he’d arrived yesterday; now pressed tightly to him, chin resting on his thigh as he sips his coffee and checks his text messages and emails. Skipping over the angry rants left by Nik and the irritated ‘clearly out of fucks’- one that Yaz had contributed. Tyler hasn’t heard from him since New Zealand; the one other man taking it as a personal slight that he’d given it all up and walked away without even a glance back.

There’s dozens of emails from the contacts he’d reached out to; mercs wanting to work for him and offering their services, retired guys wanting to get back into the game, people who can supply him with weapons and ammo and every other accessory and piece of technology he can imagine.  Even mail from former clients; guys he’d done jobs for and had been so impressed with his efficient -and successful- work. They’re pleased  that he’s not only   back in action, but that he’s actually still alive. They have resources for him; supplies, money, names and numbers of other high profile people that may need some work done.  And he sees the emails that his wife has returned, smiling as he reads her replies; concise, confident, intelligent. As if she’s never spent a single moment away from the job; smoothly and effortlessly transitioning back into her old life.

It won’t be easy; balancing the job and running a business while trying to keep a marriage afloat and raise five kids. But there’s no doubt in his mind that they can do it. They’re stronger together than they are apart; they always have been. And if they can survive the past seven years -especially his addiction issues and a six month separation that should have broken them-, they can survive anything.

He sends a text message. Telling her how much he loves her. Misses her. How he can’t wait to see her. That he’s proud of her. Not just the way that she’s handling the business side of things, but EVERYTHING.  The way she’s always fought for them. For HIM. How she raises his kids. Pouring his heart out with every letter that appears on the screen. He’d not normally that ‘type’, grand displays of affection and sincere, romantic words not his strong suit.  But the nightmare -especially the way Asif had kissed her and she’d reciprocated- has left him feeling unsettled; needing to get things off his chest. The things he feels but always struggles to say.

She quickly sends a text in response. I LOVE YOU. SO MUCH. WE MISS YOU.  Accompanied by a selfie of herself and Millie lying in the middle of their bed, both with sleepy smiles and messy hair and hands down the two most beautiful girls in the world. And he thinks of what Koen had said; about how lucky he is and that any woman who would stuck his side -through everything- was a woman worth holding onto him. She could have easily left that day on the bridge; he wouldn’t have blamed her if she did. But she’d ignored Nik and stuck around and put her own ass on line in an attempt to save his. And that’s nothing you easily thank someone for.

“You really are out of your damn mind,” Koen grumbles, as he wanders out onto the porch, his own cup of coffee in his hand; hair messy from sleep and eyes stilly glassy from all the booze he’d consumed. “Up at these hours of the morning.”

“This is pretty normal for me. Has been since I got clean.”

“Probably used to getting up with the rugrats,” Koen reasons, and takes a seat beside him. “Everything okay?” he nods down at the phone still clutched in Tyler’s hand. “At home?”

“Yeah. Everything’s good. Just checking in on everyone. Making sure they haven’t driven their mom crazy yet.”

“She must already be crazy. Having that many kids with the likes of you. How the hell she puts up with you is beyond me. I’d only be able to stand looking at that ugly mug for so long.”

“You must not look in the mirror very often.”

Koen smirks. “Smart ass. You always were quick with the shit head comments. Thought maybe all that oxygen you were deprived of might have slowed you down a bit. But here I am, dealing with your crap.”

“Admit it. You missed me.”

“About as much as I miss my two ex wives,” Koen scoffs, and then digs a playful elbow in Tyler’s ribs. “You miss it? Living out here?”

“Not really. I have a better life now. A nice place right on the beach. Tons of property. Perfect for raising kids. Wouldn’t have been able to do that out here. We probably would have tried, bt…” he sips his coffee and shrugs. “...we’re happy where we are.”

“Smartest thing you ever did; coming home. No better place to bring up a handful of kids, if you ask me. It’s weird as hell though,” he chuckles. “You doing the whole daddy thing all over again. Never thought I’d see the day, to be honest.”

“Neither did I,” Tyler admits, and he thinks about the picture he’d received just minutes before. Millie with her messy, unruly hair and those huge blue eyes that crinkle at the edges when she smiles. How’d he cried when she’d been born and a nurse had placed her in his arms; tears of both relief that she’d made it safely and immense gratitude that he’d been given that chance again.

After Austin had passed away and his marriage disintegrated, he’d thought that it was it for him. His life had been a mess...HE’D been a mess...and he couldn’t imagine meeting someone that he’d be able to have that kind of experience with. That he’d trust enough to let his guard down around and that could tolerate him and his bullshit long enough to actually fall in with him. That he’d ever find someone to fall in love WITH.

“She’s going to be a heart breaker that one,” Koen says. “The oldest. Those eyes of hers? All the boys are going to be tripping over themselves to get to her.”

Tyler frowns. “They’re going to have to get through me first.”

“Poor bastards. They’re going to be scared shitless when they walk up the house and you’re the first one out to greet them. I feel for them; trying to date a girl that has you as their father. They’d have no clue that you’re capable of tearing them in half.”

“Anyone touches either of my girls, no one will ever find their bodies. No boyfriends. No dates. No dances. None of that. No one is getting close to them. Ever.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Koen chuckles, and takes a swallow of coffee. And for several minutes they sit in silence;   enjoying the feel of the breeze and the smell of fresh, damp earth.

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” his friend says. “With the whole merc business. I thought one brush with death would be enough. Apparently not.”

“Things will be different this time. I won’t have to go out in the field as much. Only if things really go to shit.”

“Don’t they always go to shit?”

“Sometimes. Dhaka was the worst, but it wasn’t the first time things went wrong and it won’t be the last. Hopefully we can avoid that level of shit show. I know what I’m doing. I’m not some rookie going into this blind. It was my life for years.”

“But why do you need it to be your life now? Look what you’ve got going for you. You’ve got a wife and little ones. Stability. Why put all that on the line for who you used to be?”

“You having second thoughts?”

“Nope. I said I’m in, I’m in. I’m just worried about you. I don’t you throwing your life away. I don’t want you losing your kids and that pretty little wife of yours. You got a thing going. A damn good thing. You don’t need to fucking that up.”

“It’s something I need to do,” Tyler says. “I need to get back out there. Get back that piece of who I was. I need to feel like I’m doing something worthwhile with my life.”

Koen frowns. “You don’t think you are? Doing something worthwhile?”

“What am I doing? I don’t have a nine to five job. No skills outside of what I learned in the military and on the job. I pick up odd shit here and there. Nothing steady. I spend more of my time in the gym or out in the water or spending time with my wife.”

“And you’re complaining about that last part? Spending time with the likes of her? What the fuck is wrong with you? Give her to someone who’d appreciate her then.”

“I’m not complaining. Far from it. I’m just saying there needs to be something more to this life. I feel like I need to be doing something more. I need to feel useful again. Like I’m not just washed up, broken down ex soldier with a drinking problem.”

“You’re a husband. And a dad. You help raise little human beings. There’s nothing useless about that. You should be sitting back enjoying your life. Appreciating what you have right in front of you. How you gonna feel if all this blows up in your face? If things go to hell and you lose everything? What the hell you gonna do then?”

“I don’t know. Put a gun in my mouth?”

Koen scowls. “I’m being serious, mate.”

“So am I.”

“All I’m hoping is that you got your shit together and you know what you’re doing. Because this is some serious stuff here. Getting back into being a merc. And you’ve got a lot to lose now. You’ve got everything to lose. That’s all I’m saying.”

Tyler smirks. “When did you become so sensitive and sentimental?”

“Don’t be a dick about this. I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you going back into this and losing what you have. Because you finally got your shit together and got a life that’s worth living.”

“I appreciate you worrying about me and all that, mate. I do. But I’ve got it under control. I know what I’m doing. This isn’t going to be like last time. I won’t let it be.”

Koen sighs. “You always have been a stubborn sonofabitch.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Tyler insists. “And I wouldn’t be doing it if I couldn’t handle it. Things will be alright. Esme and I are in this together. We’re on the same page. We’re not going to let this break us.”

“I hope not,”  Koen says. “Because I don’t think you’d survive that.”

***

His flight arrives on time, touching down shortly before noon hour at Cooktown airport. She parks the truck on the tarmac and waits; a pair of aviator style sunglasses covering her eyes, fingernails drumming against the steering wheel. She gives the pilot a small wave and a pleasant smile when he nods in her direction; they’d met briefly two days before, when he’d come to the house after Tyler had sought out his help.  Short and broad shouldered; brown hair cropped tightly to his head and kind green eyes that sparkle when he smiles. The quintessential ‘boy next door’ with his youthful wholesome good looks and his khaki pants and crisp white golf shirt.  Quite the juxtaposition compared to Tyler; all power and muscle and the tattoos and scars that tell of a hard life spent living on the edge.  

This is the furthest she’s ever gotten into the job; not only helping organize and run things, but the acquiring of weapons and ammo and other supplies, and the handling of money -big money-  aside from her own payouts. It makes her anxious; knowing that she’s one of two people that others will come to now. Instead of being approached with work and offered jobs,  now she’s in charge of finding and assigning them. Gathering intel had been one thing; she’d spent years honing those skills. Being boss is an entirely different animal all in itself.

So much for not getting ‘too involved’.

Four large and heavy locked trunks are placed in the bed of the truck, followed by several smaller duffle bags that are loaded into the back seat. All containing a shockingly generous amount of automatic and semi automatic rifles and handguns, various types of grenades and their launches, knives, and utility vests. Whatever immediate gear that a merc would meet. All would be placed in a storage facility on the outskirts of town, save for a handful that would be kept in the two locked and secure  gun lockers  that already exist at home; one in their garage and the other in the attic.

Once things are safely loaded, an envelope of money is exchanged. Everything being handled off the books; no paper trail that can connect the pilot to the or the very illegal transport of weapons. You never know who is watching. Now that word has gotten out and spread like wildfire, support and interest are pouring in. But it isn’t just the good-intentioned that are paying attention; a man like Tyler Rake burns a lot of bridges and makes a lot of enemies. Evil, dangerous people who feel as if he wronged them and have been holding onto grudges and fantasizing about revenge.

“Hey,” she cheerfully greets, as he slides into the passenger seat. “How was the flight? How…?”

His mouth is on hers before she gets the rest of the words out; a hand tangling in her hair as he aggressively pulls her into him.  The kiss is long and soft and sweet at first; his lips bearing a hint of coffee and a touch of mint. But then things quickly take a more intense turn; his tongue pushing its way way into her mouth, the miss much more ravenous and needy. Desperate.

“Wow…” she breathes, when he pulls away, forehead briefly resting against hers before his lips brush against the bridge of her nose. “...what was that for?”

“I wanted to kiss my wife. That’s not allowed?”

“Of course it’s allowed. And encouraged. But that was...intense. That wasn’t your usual ‘back after only twenty four hours’ kiss. That was your ‘I’ve been gone for two or three weeks’ kind of kiss.”

“Guess I just missed you.” he reasons, and then presses his lips to her temple before settling back into his seat and reaching for the belt.

“Okay, something is going on. You kissed me like THAT and you’re letting me drive your truck?”

“You had to drive it here, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but you’re here now and it’s your baby and usually…”

“It’s just a truck,” he says with a shrug, and buckles his seat belt.

“Something is definitely going on with you.”

Tyler chuckles. “There’s nothing. I didn’t sleep well last night and I have a killer headache and it’s probably just better if you drive. That’s all.”

“Do you have a killer headache because…?”

“I wasn’t drinking iof that’s what you’re going to ask. I stayed sober. I told you I wasn’t going to be like that again and I meant it.”

“What was the dream about?”

“Can’t remember. I just know it was fucked and I don’t want to have it again.”

Her eyes narrow as she watches him, noticing the way he grimaces when he stretches his legs out in front of him and the frown on his face as he rubs at his troublesome knee. The scar is long and jagged; starting three inches above and stopping four inches below. There’d been complications; the surgeon discovering more damage, bone fragments and scar tissue than he’d initially expected and having to not only replace the knee, but repair ligaments and tendons that were nearly severed.

“What’s this about?” She reaches over to tussle his hair. The length on the top is the same as when he’d left, but the sides and back now shaved as close to the skin as possible.  High and tight; a Marine cut.  

“Just something I thought I’d try.”

“You’re going back to the old hair aren’t you,” a slow smile spreads across his face. “You’re going to let the top grow out.”

“It’s the look you liked the most, yeah? Now you can’t say I never do anything nice for you.”

“Baby…” she leans across the space between their seats and presses a kiss to his cheek; his beard still full yet trimmed and tidier. “...you’re the best. You know how to keep your girl happy.”

He grins. “Sometimes.”

“All the time,” she says, and places a kiss to the corner of his mouth before settling back into her seat and starting the ignition.  A companionable silence falling between them as they pull out of the hanger and head for home.

****

“ARE you okay?” Esme asks several minutes later.

“Fine,” Tyler replies, his head tilted back against his seat, eyes closed; one hand on his stomach, the other on her thigh, thumb continuously brushing against her skin.  “Just tired. It was a long night. Couldn’t fall asleep and when I did, I had that fucked up dream.” “And you don’t remember what it was about?”

“Nope. It wasn’t one of the usual ones, though. Never had this one before. But it was messed up. I remember that much.”

How do you explain a dream like THAT? That you’d been  willing to sacrifice someone’s life for five million dollars; knowing that a drug lord would have used and abused them  in horrific and degrading ways before killing them? She doesn’t even know about the whole truth about what happened at Gaspar’s. For nearly seven years she’d assumed that the deal had been for Ovi; that Gaspar had been hell bent on killing him and Tyler refused to give the kid up and all hell broke loose.

“Hmmm…” she turns her full attention to the road, chewing absentmindedly on her bottom lip. She’s used to this; his constant need to keep everything inside and shoulder every single burden on his own. It’s his protective nature; not wanting to add any extra stress or worry to her already overflowing plate. “...and things went okay?”

“Everything went fine. Got Koen on board, got everything we need to get started. Things went good. Place doesn’t even look the same anymore. Not inside, anyway.”

“And he’s still okay with letting us stay there?”

“Yup. Just said to make sure we change the sheets. Said he doesn’t want to be lying in our ‘business’.”

She laughs at that.

“Did Nik call you?” he casually and calmly asks, hand sliding onto the inside of her thigh; fingertips against the bare skin just below the hem of her shorts.

“Nik? Why should she call me? I’m probably the last person she wants to hear from after that night at the restaurant. I’m sure she blames me for Kyle calling things off.”

“Well in all fairness, you did kind of instigate the whole thing. Hooking him with the neighbor. Even after I told you to stay out of it and mind your business.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault it was instant lust between them. We know all about that, don’t we.”

He grins.

“But no. She didn’t call. That’s kind of a weird thing to ask, About Nik.”

“She called me,” Tyler admits, and he notices the way both of her brows arch. “Last night. I only answered because I thought it was you and that maybe something was wrong at home.”

“Why would she call you? Was she having a lonely night? Wanted to have phone sex?”

“I didn’t have the energy. I’d already had phone sex with you, so…”

“Boy that must have broken her heart; the fact you keep shooting her down. Maybe she feels if she keeps bugging you enough she’ll wear you down and you’ll give in.”

“Not gonna happen. I already told you; I’m not a cheater. I don’t want anyone else but you. And she actually called to give me shit. I guess word travels faster than we thought it would.”

“Well it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“Later would have been nice.”

“I take it she wasn’t happy.”

Tyler smirks. “That’s one way of putting it. She lost her shit. She’s taking it personally; thinks I did it to purposefully fuck her over and put her out of business.”

“Mercs are jumping ship left, right, and center. I can’t keep up with all the messages and the emails. She’s not going to have anyone left.”

He shrugs. “Guess she shouldn’t have let things go to shit.”

“They went to shit seven years ago when she made the decisions she did. That should have been the end of it; when she was so willing to leave you on the bridge to die. She totally fucked you. And not in a good way. Like whose dick is she sucking that she keeps her job?”

A grin tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth. “You’re feisty today.”

“I hope you do put her out of business. I hope she loses everything. Because she fucking deserves it. She’s done a lot of shitty things and I’m glad karma is finally biting her in the ass.”

“She’s not going to go down without a fight. She’s pretty pissed. And pretty determined to make my life hell.”

Esme frowns. “She said that? That she’s going to make your life hell?”

“Not in so many words.”

“Well what did she say? Did she threaten to show up and kick your ass? I’d love to see her try.”

“She just said some shit. About us. When I said something about how my wife and my kids will always be around, she made a comment about how she’ll ‘see about that’.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know. But I told her I wasn’t fucking around. Don’t threaten my family. It didn’t end well for the last person who tried it and it won’t end well for her.” “Nk hardly seems the type that would hurt kids. There’s no doubt in my mind she’d come for me. She’s been wanting me out of the picture for a long time. But to do something to hurt the kids? I can’t see her stooping that low.”

“I don’t think it was a physical threat. Nik’s all about screwing with peoples’ heads. Look what she did to me. She knew I was messed up and she knew exactly what buttons to push to get me to do what she wanted.”

“You think that’s what it is? Psychological warfare? Because she’s never gone up against me and that's a  battle I will not lose. I’ve gone up against bigger and better than her and I’m still here to tell about it. Besides, what could she possibly say that would bother me that much? After everything I’ve been through in the past seven years? Nothing could unnerve me that badly that it would screw things up between us. Look at everything we’ve been through. That shit we’ve survived.  She doesn’t even know HALF of it. Trust me, there’s nothing she could say that could hurt us.”

“It’s Nik. She’ll make shit up if she has to.”

“She can save her breath. I know all your deepest and darkest secrets. So if she thinks she has something to surprise me, she’s got another thing coming. I do, right?” she casts him a sidelong glance. “Know everything I need to know?”

“There’s nothing I haven’t told you. I told you most of it in the first couple of days. Everything else you’ve lived through with me.”

“Then let her make shit up,” Esme shrugs. “I think I trust you word over hers. After everything she’s pulled,  I wouldn’t believe a goddamn word she says. And the fact she’d even threaten you? Like, she knows who she’s talking to, right? Someone who killed two people with one garden rake. That’s really who she wants to go up against?”

“She probably thinks I won’t retaliate. I don’t give a shit what history we have. You don’t threaten my family. Ever.”

“Normally I’d tell you you’re being paranoid and you’re way too overprotective, but this side of you is kind of hot.”

He grins. “Kind of?”

“Totally hot,” she admits, then giggles and shoves his hand away when he slides it towards her crotch. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“What’s gotten into you the last few days? You’re a little...I don’t know...assertive...when it comes to the whole sex thing.”

“I’m not allowed to want to have sex with my life? First I can’t kiss you a certain way, now I can’t have sex with you either?”

“It’s not that you can’t. You’re just a little more...demanding...than usual. Needy.  Needy is a good word for it. And we’ve always had a lot of sex but lately, you’ve just been...extra...about it.”

He gives in an amused smirk. “I’m extra?”

“In a good way,” she assures him.

“Look, I love you. You’re beautiful. You’re sexy. And I want to fuck you. So…”  his hand once again slides along her thigh, slipping under the leg opening of her shorts. Fingertips grazing against the edge of her simple cotton pants. “...when we get home, that’s what we’re going to do. Fuck.”

“Addie and Declan are there. Ovi’s watching them.”

“Send them to his place. Tell him we need half an hour kid free. He’ll know what that means.”

“A half an hour?” she playfully inquires. “When has it only taken half an hour?”

“I’m in a mood,” he replies, and slides a finger under her panties, and she swallows noisily and her entire body tenses when it pushes through her folds and grazes over her clit.

“Obviously. And you’re going to put me in a mood!” She squeezes  her thighs shut, trapping his hand between them. “Stop! I’m trying to drive!”

“Just relax. Let me do this.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Come on…” he grins. “...do it. I know you want to. It’s something we’ve never done before. You can’t tell me you don’t want to try. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Oh I don’t know, Tyler. I could crash and kill us both and our kids would be orphans. That’s pretty much the worst.”

“Do it…” he encourages. “...open your legs...let me do this for you...let me make you feel good.”

She glances at him out of the corner of her eyes.

“Our little secret,” his grin widens. “I promise.”

“You're insane. You really are.”

“Maybe. But I can feel how wet you are. “I know you want it just as much as I do. Just do it. Just this once. Let me to this for you.”

She sighs heavily, thighs releasing the grip on his hand.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, swallowing noisily when he slips another finger between her folds, watching her face as the tips press against her clit. Noticing the flush that creeps into her cheeks and the tips of her ears, the way her teeth dig painfully into her bottom lip.

“You really are a bad influence,” she half-heartedly complains.

“Yeah,” he agrees, as his fingers continue their ministrations.  “But you love me though.”

She doesn’t even attempt to deny it.

[daddyfuckinlonglegs]

On today’s episode of “Why I Love MacCready” ft some small and important headcanons...

1. He is short, and has a bit of a Napoleon complex, but he is also absolutely a badass, don’t doubt it. Maybe he seems like he’s bragging a lot, maybe he’s overly aggressive in some situations, but he backs that up with actual skills, it isn’t just bluster.   2. He’s grumpy sometimes, irritable and snarky, but he will absolutely have your back and be there when the shit hits the fan, emotionally as well as physically. He’s got a tough little heart, he’s not an emotionless merc. 3. He acts like a kid, but he is the most fucking grown ass man - he practically raised himself, took charge of the other kids at lamplight, kept them safe, kept them happy, went out into the world at 16, and made a family, almost lost everything, dealt with his grief alone, left the thing most precious to him behind to be a fucking hero for that person, knowing all the while that it was a tiny, tiny chance that he’d find that cure, and when that’s over he’s playing the most painful waiting game to hear the outcome, and is still able to be there for the sole survivor. 4. He is funny. I was gonna add more here but I don’t need to explain why humour is a likeable trait XD 5. He has a pointy face, and goofy teeth, and is just generally grubby, but he doesn’t give a fuck what you think. 6. He is loyal to Sole in a way that isn’t dogmatic - Sole pays him a bunch of caps, sure, bought his service, but he sticks around long after that arrangement. But he won’t stick by just because you pay him, he doesn’t have that soldier mentality of loyalty to the cause, as such, just an honest, personal connection. His low affinity conversation is one of my favourites in the game (hey, woah, I never got it personally, don’t @ me) because he’s so, genuinely fucking angry and heartbroken that someone he trusted is making decisions that hurt people. 7. He’s a money grubbing little bastard, and he isn’t sorry about it, but it’s because he has had to make it for himself his whole life, and he does what he needs to survive. 8. His no swearing rule is the most useless thing, and he knows it, but it seems to be something of a test for him - the swearing itself doesn’t matter, but if he can stick to this one thing, he can change the other hard, selfish parts of him and actually be the better person he wants to be. Also it is, and I don’t say this lightly, really goddamn cute. In my own personal fic canon, I have several little additions. Some very specific, some NSFW:

Mac leaves to go back to DC just after the battle for Bunker Hill, and doesn’t return until after the Institute is dealt with. He really, really struggles with this decision, because Stahl has done so much for him, and he’s involved in such a dangerous way, but Mac isn’t loyal to the railroad, and is terrified of going up against the Brotherhood and Institute because he has to stay alive for Duncan. And that is such a normal, human thing, he’s not a coward, not a turncoat, not just selfish for his own sake. He’s responsible for another human who needs him alive. He’s new to feeling romantic interest in a man. Stahl is a bit of a Don Juan, sure, a whole bunch of people like him, but Mac never really thought he’d fall for it. But Stahl is affectionate and physical and comfortable with intimacy between them in a way that Mac isn’t used to. And that’s before he, uh... pins Mac against the wall and sucks his dick behind a bar in Sanctuary. And Mac is just sorta... bowled over that Stahl is so trusting and open (and queer, hah). Stahl is really surprisingly sensitive and careful and slow, after that incredibly heated snap decision, and it gives him time to process a little. And boy. When they get down to it. Mac gets to trust Stahl with things he would never have trusted people with, ever, maybe not even Lucy - in part because she couldn’t exactly fulfil some of those things (Stahl is a lot older, and, hey, boy’s got some serious daddy issues), but some of them come through having the shared experience of loss and grief and deciding to carry on. Really brings them close in a different way. Not better, just different. He’s an aaaabsolute brat in bed for Stahl, snarky and challenging and petulant and just begging to be slapped. Sometimes literally. He can be a great top, he can be serious, and notices a lot of little details, he’s good at picking up non-verbal things and really listening to the situation, and he’s pretty strong for his size (and decidedly out of proportion in at least one regard ;] )... but he just loves flaunting Stahl’s “authority” and getting himself into trouble. He likes the trust and comfort of being more submissive, and he likes it when Stahl is mean or makes him work really hard or plays with the idea of paying him for sex. And once it’s out in the open, getting spanked/calling Stahl Daddy is one of those really nasty dirty things that he just fucking melts for. But he would not tell anyone about that because he’s got his hardass ex-gunner merc reputation to keep. He’s also just fucking fun, he doesn’t take life too seriously despite all the huge shit he’s dealt with, he still wants to have a good time and get high and get laid and climb trees and read comics and just live. So in summary. He is a little brat when he wants to be, and an absolute rock when Stahl needs him, and he is just really fucking cool, okay? 

[incorrectly-quoted-queers]

Drunk Punch Love: INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL

Pairing: FemShep and Garrus Vakarian (Shakarian)

Rating: PG-13 (with some tossed F-bombs)

Summary: Their awkward, badass journey through saving the galaxy and accidentally falling in love

INTERMISSION ARCHANGEL: The End.

Shepard had been dead 232 days.

Garrus had been going over their new security measures when the apartment's front door pinged. It wasn't a sound he heard often, since all the crew had their own codes to the back door. But the Via siblings were new, and Butler's wife did sometimes stop by, so he figured it was just one of them.

What he didn't expect was a female turian with blue markings to have her arms crossed, looking at him like he just committed a crime. Before he could react, the glare faded and she smiled at him. Garrus' head still wasn't fully straight when she pulled him into her arms.

It only clicked together that this wasn't some damn fever dream when she started talking. "Happy birthday, baby brother!"

Oh. It was that day.

"I'd ask if I surprised you, but I already know I did." The second he shut his door behind him, closing off his vigilante world from his family, that damned brain of hers caught on and she peered at him. "I know you wouldn't have anything planned for your birthday, so what are you hiding?"

If it was his father, he could lie and say a woman and the man would happily walk away from the shut door, uninterested. But Solana was a different beast. She was curious, intrusive, and interested in damn near anything. It would be hard to keep her out of his apartment, lined with guns, gear, and a krogan casing the joint.

Also, she definitely would give him shit for his undecorated bedroom and that was a blast from the past he never wanted to deal with again.

So, his best shot was to go truth adjacent. "There was a break-in on my block. I have a consultant in there retrofitting my place with more security."

"You caring about your own well-being and safety is... new, but I won't complain." Solana snorted and shook her head at him, in her normal well-meaning but condescending way. "Only you would schedule a security consultation on your birthday. Were you going to do anything at all?"

Garrus leaned against his door and tried not to look too pissed off, because Solana knew the answer to that and was really just trying to push his buttons. Sure, that would be a stretch for anyone else, but his big sister? He knew how she operated. Probe for intel and then use that intel to make whatever point she was making infallible. He stuck with, "You know the answer to that."

"Doesn't the fact I know the answer to that speak volumes to the issue at hand?" Dammit. And he thought he said something neutral. Before he could spike back, she added, "It's been three years, Garrus, you're not dancing on mother's grave just because you dare to enjoy your birthday."

Now that one was a funny answer. "Really Sol? That's easy for you to say when she didn't die on yours."

"I've never liked the guilt games you and father play. Just yesterday he was messaging me about how it's his fault you react poorly to death and rebel. But do either of you do anything with that guilt? Because that's progress I'd like to see." Garrus almost laughed, because the one thing close to progress was also the one thing he really didn't want her to see. "Life happens. Death happens. Now, if I remember correctly, I begged for a sibling. So if not for yourself, let's celebrate the happiest day of my four year old life, meeting my little brother."

He wanted to stay mad and indignant, maybe even scare her off. But dammit, he cared too much about Solana for that. Groaning, he pushed off the door and conceded. "Fine, let's go get some food and see a flick or something. You did come all this way to see me."

"You're right, I did, so thank you for appreciating it." She walked forward first and he took the opportunity to cover his tracks. With a flick of his wrist he typed out a quick message to Jawth and Sidonis, asking them to hide the guns and clean up the place before he got back; that his sister came for a surprise visit.

They agreed without asking a single question. Which was good, because he'd rather off himself than tell those assholes what day it was.

Now the real landmine was keeping Solana from looking too deeply into the Archangel rumors. If that caught her interest, he was sure she could figure it out. He didn't expect her to snitch to their father, who would objectively hate what he was doing, but he also didn't know how she'd react.

Garrus just wanted his sister to remain his annoying, inordinately supportive sister. He didn't want that to get complicated.

Somehow, he managed to dodge all Archangel talk the entire time. His most impressive save was pretending to choke on something to be louder than and scare off a guy at the cafe who wouldn't stop talking about his crew and their latest hit. Solana definitely didn't need to hear about "That blue-ass sniper turian."

That was more than enough to get her curious.

When they got to his apartment door, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. They'd made it, all the way back to his place, and she still didn't know. She could spend the night here and then he could send her back off to her life on Palaven, no harm no foul.

But for all his attempts, he'd forgotten one small, terrible little factor.

Sidonis knew who he was, and that man had a lot of contacts.

The second the metal panels slid open, every single one of his team was there, grinning like mad, with a garrish looking cake stuffed with candles. And right in front of his sister, the fuckers yelled, "Happy birthday, Archangel."

There were a lot of times with Shepard he wished to kill a man, but this time, he wanted to kill nine.

Solana just glared at him with a knowing smirk. "I fucking knew you were hiding something!"

Garrus grabbed her arm and took her outside, where all his idiot team wasn't watching. He started talking, fast. "Sol, I-"

"If you say you're sorry, I'll know you're lying." She shook her head. "So you're the infamous merc-killer? Honestly, I should've known. It was probably just wishful thinking." He was too overwhelmed to know what to say to that, but luckily Sol was happy to fill in the blanks. "I won't tell father. He would hate you for doing this. Just don't keep secrets from me, okay? I love you."

"I can give you that."

"Good. Now, why don't we enjoy your party that your team set up?" Before she walked through the door, she squeezed his arm and frowned. A classic Sol look of distaste; last time he saw it, it was when a co-worker of hers tried to ask her on a date because "she had to say yes to someone eventually". If Solana was less composed, he was sure she would've punched him. "I'm not eating that cake, though."

"Don't worry. I would have told you not to."

/

Shepard had been dead 365 days.

All he could see were her eyes. Soft green, always laughing at something. Until she wasn't. But wherever things were good, she was laughing, and hard. Garrus couldn't quite get his head straight, but he hoped he said something funny. More than likely, what actually happened was that he did something awkward and dumb, but that was almost just as good.

When he started scanning the room, he realized they were by one of the observation windows on the Normandy. Despite all the chaos in their lives, they'd taken a moment to look at the stars. He always liked it here. Why'd he never bring her here?

Even when she stopped laughing, she kept smiling. Like she always did after a long day, she pulled her hair out of that tight bun thing and kept on shaking it with her fingers. Sometimes he wondered what it felt like, and not like when he accidently touched it during movie night. Like how she was doing, hands all in.

But it was safe to say that was a bit more than a CO and an ex C-sec officer should be doing.

He wasn't quite sure what he was saying, or why he was saying it, but he told her, "When I look at the stars, I think of you." Garrus wasn't really sure when he got all bold. Maybe it was this haziness he was feeling.

Shepard raised one of her hairy eyebrows at him. "We live in space. On a spaceship. We see stars almost constantly."

Garrus took a step closer to her, sometimes wondering how she got anywhere with how oblivious she could be. And god knows he normally wasn't this smooth but this time, right here, he said what he wanted to. "Exactly my point."

Blinking, it took her a few seconds to register what he said, and she even turned to look up at him. But when their eyes did meet? Hers softened like for once, she finally got it. Her cheeks even did that little blush thing when she was embarrassed. "Oh."

With that look, was like all of his normal discomfort came rushing back, all those feelings that always told him not to say stupid shit like that. He shouldn't have said that, right? All those things she said she felt were byproducts of a lonely, drunk night where he got too close and she was alone enough to get stuck on it. She didn't like it, she couldn't, and it was weird, he was ruining the whole friendship thing... "Shepard, forget I said that-"

But then, she did that human thing they always saw in movies. She got on her toes and pressed her lips against his. It was weird, soft skin against his plates, but it was her skin, and that was what mattered.

Maybe he hadn't ruined everything.

Shepard said, "I won't forget-"

Everything seemed so right, but just then the wall blew open and Shepard was being sucked out into space. Again. He tried to grab onto her arms, legs, anything to keep her there. No matter what he reached for, she slipped through his goddamn fingers.

When he woke up, his body was shaking and he wrapped his arms around his legs. He hated to admit this wasn't the first time he had a dream like that, one where Shepard wasn't gone.

Garrus had tried so hard to keep her at bay. One year later, but she was always still there.

As long as he could help it, though, his nightmares would be the only place she had left to live. Elsewhere, he had work to do. And as much as he felt for her, pined for her, his life didn't have place for stubborn, Russian spectres.

Garrus had a station to protect.

/

Shepard had been dead for 728 days.

He never should've left the apartment. Garrus figured his team could cover the last of the security measures while he helped Sidonis. It should've been easy.

But when he got there, Sidonis never showed up. And when he got back, there was blood everywhere.

He trusted Sidonis, from the first day he met him. The damned turian seemed honest about wanting to save people. But here they were, and Lantar fucked them.

They were all going to die here, weren't they?

Most everyone was down already. Their corpses were strewn all over the place, their faces locked in horror or dull emptiness. The only ones left alive were Ryel, Gibbon, and Butler.

But from the looks of it, Butler didn't have much longer.

He yelled at the crippled leftovers of his team and asked, "How's it looking?"

Gibbon answered, "Understandably terrible. We have a vantage point, but they have many waves of mercs."

Ryel added, "This balcony view is not as pretty with bullets and brains flying everywhere."

Before he could respond, Butler grabbed Garrus' arm. His abdomen was covered in blood and he could see his stomach lining. The guy normally wore gray pants, but they looked like they'd been dyed red. "I'm not gonna make it, huh?"

"Butler-"

"Nah, I know." He coughed. Garrus couldn't lie to him. "As much as I'd like to go screaming out Nalah's name, I want to hear about something that doesn't break my heart. Tell me about your Russian girl, Garrus. And for real this time."

For all the times Garrus shoved her away, maybe Butler was right. If he was going to die, he'd rather hear about her one last time. He said to the other two, "Hold the line and be careful."

Then, he sat down next to Butler and held his hand. After all this time, nearly two years, he just started talking about Shepard like she really was. "Her name was Anya. She was competitive to a fault and loved saying quotes while she watched movies. She loved to dance, but just by herself. She was a brave leader, but what mattered more was that she was... She was a beautiful, squishy human."

"A human? Never woulda guessed." He knew he already told Butler she was human, but it wasn't really the time to contradict him. Blood loss never helped make the brain a stronger machine.

Instead, Garrus just kept talking, his grip on Butler's hand getting tighter as the memories and feelings wound around his chest. "Me neither, but from all your stories, you didn't sound like you expected to fall in love with an Asari either."

"You're right. I didn't. Tell me more?"

"She was a classic soldier, until she wasn't. An infiltrator class, great with a pistol, terrifying, even. But sometimes she'd walk into debriefings with sweatpants and her hair a mess, swearing about something the pilot did to her toothpaste. And I wondered how that person was the same one that inspired a whole ship, every day. But she did."

"And?" Butler looked at him knowingly, deliberately.

Today, Garrus let the dying man win. "And you were right, Butler. I loved her."

With one final smirk, his hand fell.

When Butler stopped breathing, Garrus picked up his gun, got behind cover like Ryel and Gibbon, and started shooting.

If he was going to go down, he was gonna go down fighting. And this time, he wouldn't stop thinking about her. This time, if he was gonna die, she'd be the last thing on his mind.

No matter where he went, he was stuck with her. Forever.

///

After a little interlude into Garrus' two years without Shepard, we can finally start getting Anya awake and moving in his direction. I am SO ready.

I read on tumblr a couple weeks ago that apparently a lot of people write their own version of 4 things: their first meeting, the rocket-to-the-face, the night before the suicide mission, and "this is the best spot on the citadel.

I know it's stupid, but I honestly feel kinda proud that I ignored their first meeting entirely. And also that my suicide mission night will be VERY different. Is it a stupid thing to be proud of? Yes, but at my core I'm kinda a trash hipster and I can feel pride and shame in that.

Anyway, thank you so much for reading! And extra thanks to my lovely patrons:

Danypooh80

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If you want to help support my writing and my goal to create a fun, pro-fandom community, (future Twitch streams included) please check one of these places (or my bio) for more information:

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[markoftheasphodel]

queenlua said: 1) wait which duke, my euro!history is extremely poor, and 2) i TOO have used the “contingencies for contingencies” at work before omg i squeaked at that line, 3) i’m hyped to hear you’re fond of claude and i am twitching to see you finish the game because i have SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THIS MAN omg etc

3) Oh yeah I love Claude. I mean I am very obviously partial to clever and intrigue-happy archers with sharp tongues but WOW, Claude.

1) OK. So the Duke of Milan in question was Ludovico “Il Moro” Sforza, and if you learned anything about him via tumblr it was probably lies counterfactual.

[Counterfactual tumblr likes to claim Ludovico as a POC but his nickname of The Moor derives not from any known or credibly suspected African heritage but because he had unfashionably dark coloring. If you want evidence of actual POC Italian dukes, Florence is right over there --> but anyway, moving on.]

So Italian politics circa the 1490s are hideously complicated and involve power players like the Republic of Venice, the Duchy of Milan, the Kingdom of Naples, the Papal States, and the Holy Roman Empire. By the time Rodrigo Borgia becomes the Pope (yes) the intrigue levels are already higher than the spire of old St Peter’s. One thing leads to another and Il Moro, a guy who just can’t stay out of intrigue and is mostly quite good at it, decides to invite Charles the Affable, King of Goddamned France, to cross Milanese territory and go down and mess with the Kingdom of Naples. Charles has a vaguely legit claim to Naples through his grandma and he is not the brightest guy in Europe but he does like to play soldier. So Charles comes down with 25,000 men (including Swiss mercenaries) and seizes Naples and starts calling himself its King. Within a month of this, all the Italian states are shitting themselves because holy shit there’s a giant foreign army in Italy now and they’re totes happy to massacre people who get in their way. Anyway, so now Il Moro, the Borgia Pope, Venice, and rival claimants to Naples join forces with the Holy Roman Empire to get the French the fuck out of Italy. This new League of Venice takes major losses but Charles has to retreat back to France so it’s all a wash. Also the first major recorded outbreak of syphilis occurs in the French army during this war (1494-95), giving the disease the name The French Pox.

But then Charles smacks his head on a low doorway on his way to a game of tennis and dies. He’s got no surviving kids, so the throne of France passes to his cousin Louis of Orleans, who is waaaaay more clever than Charles and also has a legit claim to the ducal seat of Milan through his grandma. Louis has already proven himself a competent commander in Charles’s Italian misadventure. This is a guy whose personal emblem is a porcupine. He’s not the most glamorous dude on the continent but you don’t want to mess with him. Louis rebuilds the army that Charles left in a mess (including more Swiss mercs), systematically gets permission from various dukes and whatnot to cross their territory and also signs a treaty with Spain because Ferdinand and Isabella (yes), specifically Ferdinand, have an actual claim to Naples as opposed to the bullshit claim advanced by Louis which amounts to “My ded cousin Charles held Naples for a year or whatever” and doesn’t hold up to scrutiny. So Louis has agreements that he and the Venetians will divvy up the Milanese territory and he and Spain will divvy up the Neapolitan spoils. 

And then he shows up in Milan and is like “Hey Ludovico you backstabbing SOB whose family usurped my grandma’s duchy, remember me?” And Il Moro is like “Oh shit, come help me my Italian allies.” And the other city-states of Italy are like “No fucking way in fucking hell, you invited the goddamned French here in the first place so FUCK YOU.” And the French take Milan and Ludovico finds out the Swiss mercenaries he relies on turn out to not be super-willing to die for him on other Swiss pikes and he’s captured and sent to France. Louis gets Milan and Leonardo da Vinci and accidentally sets up the chessboard for the rise of the Spanish Hapsburgs, but that’s a WHOLE ‘nother story.

And this is why you don’t invite a massive foreign army to cross your lands to go mess with the people you actually have a problem with.

[Machiavelli had salty things to say about both Ludovico and Louis, btw. Good reading even if he was biased as hell.]

[undonesarc]

▌real name: griffith angelo d’aquino. ▌single or taken: single but.. we’re working on it. ▌abilities or powers: gun handling, knife combat, self defense (trained in standard boxing, wrestling, and has undergone courses that are essentially ripped straight from marine corps martial arts training programs), basic survival skills (desert-based, primarily, as that’s where the majority of his merc work took place),   ▌eye color: a brown so dark it’s nearly black. ▌hair color: black. ▌family members: parents are sebastian d’aquino sr. and sheila d’aquino (nee walsh); six siblings, hugo (58), giorgia and emily (twins, 53), mia (49), lucas (47), and sebastian (44); one maternal uncle, max, and two fraternal, arthur and daniel (both deceased). ▌pets: n/a. has considered getting a dog, but doesn’t feel like he’d be able to actually be there for it as much as he should be, but if he ever considers retirement/a more permanent living situation then he’d probably get one.  ▌something they don’t like: when people try to be all buddy-buddy with him, especially on jobs, especially if he barely knows them. he doesn’t like that sense of fake camaraderie, it makes him deeply uncomfortable. ▌hobbies/activities: crime, obviously, primarily bank robbery but he doesn’t mind getting involved in other things; more mundane hobbies include hiking, rock climbing, camping, boxing, playing video games, reading; at the home he keeps in new york, he has a library, and there’s an extensive collection of books there. ▌ever hurt anyone before: yes. frequently. as griff is fond of saying, you can’t be in crime without being a little criminal; he’s dealt out plenty of pain in his years, both professionally and on the side. his brief stint in the world of underground boxing was bloody. he’s picked more than a handful of fights in bars -- and not just yelling and some halfhearted punches. he’s thrown chairs, broken tables by slamming people into them, broken fingers and skulls and noses. he doesn’t flinch from violence, though that isn’t to say he revels in it, either; he’s not exactly apathetic, just doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions in any other way (but he doesn’t ever hurt the people cares about, i.e. his family/etc. he either deals with it by fighting or getting out the anger through work, or by going to a gym and taking it out on a punching bag/working it out through exercise). ▌ever killed anyone before: yes. 11 years of his life has been spent as a mercenary, seven with private military then four as a freelance killer in europe; his confirmed body count in europe was 13. outside of work, griff has only killed 3 people: his first was at the age of 16, when the eldest son of a “rival” family decided to send griff’s father a message by beating on griff (sebastian had refused to work with their family, and this was the retaliation for insulting them). griff fought back, unintentionally breaking his neck, then finishing the job by stabbing him in the throat. the other two kills were purely victims of circumstance; one was a man griff fought in the underground boxing he participated in (he didn’t die in the ring, but a few days later from injuries sustained); the second, a civilian who tried to be a hero during a robbery and earned a shotgun blast to the head for his trouble. ▌animal that represents them: a snake. ▌worst habits: the inability to own up to his feelings is the biggest one. this definitely extends beyond his sexuality; he’s not very good at showing his family (or the very rare friend that he has) that he cares for them. he’s not good at voicing his emotions, choosing instead to isolate (he camps by himself a lot) or something stupid like fighting (as mentioned above). he’s just very childish when it comes to emotions, and it’s goddamn annoying, and definitely makes it difficult to be friends with him.  ▌role models: during their time together as mercs, jason became a sot-of role model for griff, with the impression he left continuing to influence griff into adulthood. his brother seb is also someone griff has constantly looked up to; because he’s only two years older, he’s the sibling griff was closest to. he helped griff deal with the body after his first murder; he’s the one who encouraged him to pursue theatre, then to leave home/the family when he saw how unhappy and uncomfortable griff was with them (seb has always known griff is gay, and hoped that by encouraging him to leave, he’d be helping him get to a place where he could learn to come to terms with who he is). griff has always admired the ferocity with which seb loves, and envies how easy-going he is. he’s tried to imitate it, but has never been able to perfect it.  ▌sexual orientation: gay. ▌thoughts on marriage/kids: he doesn’t want kids, and doesn’t care for marriage in a traditional sense; he doesn’t believe in the ceremony and the paperwork. that’s not to say he wouldn’t flat-out deny a guy if it came to it, but he definitely wouldn’t want anything big. he thinks the commitment of saying i love you and then proving it by coming home every day is enough. ▌fears: being outed, and as an extension, coming to terms with being out; the reaction from his family; the act of actually being with a man again, though i think it’s less about actually being gay these days (because.. he understands it’s okay/natural, he’s really gotten over that fear and left it in his youth) and more of a fear of learning to love again, afraid he would lose it/ruin it like he did in the past. ▌style preferences: basic.. but like.. still kinda stylish? yeah he wears that ugly shirt with a cross on it in the movie, but that’s just how he dresses on jobs, primarily to throw people off and not let them get too familiar with who he really is. when he’s camping, of course he favors hiking boots and henleys. his style is dictated by what personality he’s presenting; in atlanta, he’s a hardened criminal, and dresses kinda corny to fit the part. in new york, he’s just another face in a crowd, but he wants to look good and feels more comfortable presenting closer to the look he likes in such a big city; he likes expensive dress shirts (and leans towards pastel colors) or designer shirts (he likes floral patterns like this) when he’s in new york, though sometimes he favors a more punk look (leather jacket, etc) when wearing more stylish and designer clothing makes him feel too exposed. he feels like there’s certain things expected from a guy who lives a life like him, who looks like he does, and sometimes he ends up falling prey to those stereotypes, because he’s too scared to let himself be who he really is. ▌someone they love: honestly.. to be honest....... he still has a little bit of love for jason and that’s never going to change. he also loves his brother seb a lot, and of course his other siblings as well -- they were all incredibly close growing up, and while he’s chosen to isolate, it isn’t because he hates them. he loves his family, he just needs to find his way back to them. ▌approach to friendships: he keeps anyone at arm’s length, though he does have some tentative friendships, all built on a mutual interest in crime, though the word friend is rarely ever used. griff tends to avoid “normal” people, not wanting to get them entangled in the life he lives; he doesn’t really have any genuine friends, people he goes out to coffee with or to the movies with or whatever, or people to talk to, actually, but god he needs it. ▌thoughts on pie: he’d kill you for pumpkin pie probably, ▌favorite drink: alcohol-wise, he loves strawberry cream tequila, and whiskey. liquor aside, he just drinks water and orange juice. ▌favorite place to spend time at: he loves the wilderness honestly! he goes camping every other weekend. he goes to the gym daily and really finds comfort in that routine. he doesn’t really like being at his atlanta apartment much, which is why he doesn’t spend too much money on it, or time in it. ▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: lakes; he developed a slight fear of the open water after working on fishing boats off of the west coast. ▌their type: we’ll have to revisit this........ i need more interactions w/ him before i say either way what he likes  

tagged by: @armsdealing​ tagging: @armsdealing​ do this for buddy if you haven’t already, @exorsista​, @exhauest​

[robobrainmurdermysterytheatre]

After that video of Matthew Mercer I rb earlier, I need to fangirl for a minute OK? Ok. Sorry if this sounds like a bunch of French if you’ve never played World of Warcraft or Overwatch we’ll be back to our regularly scheduled wasteland shit posting and raging about gunners and thirsting for Paladin Danse and all that fun stuff shortly.

Just as a foreward - I’m sure everyone has that game that was like your first love. It has a special place in your heart, when someone talks about it you light up, you *know* it, you love it, even if you aren’t doing it anymore. World of Warcraft was that game for me. IDK if I burnt myself out on it or what, but playing isn’t the same any more and I have all these bittersweet, angsty feelings about it. 

Anyway. So, Like 2 years ago the Legion expansion came out and all the different classes got these special OP super Artifact weapons which were unique to each class. Being a nerd for all Guardian-related stuff I was over the moon I was getting Aegwynn’s staff, Aluneth, for my Arcane Mage (even though its existence was retconned in for the expansion because Khadgar actually had the staff Aegwynn always wielded but ANYWAY). I started out the expansion with my Ret Paladin because that’s been my main forever and ever amen, also I needed The Ashbringer IMMEDIATELY, and then started doing stuff on my Arcane Mage. 

And to my surprise, my fucking staff starts talking to me. The Ashbringer didn’t talk to me. What the fuck? After I stopped wtf-ing and wondering if The Ashbringer was broken because it didn’t talk to me (it’s not supposed to because it’s not possessed by an ancient, probably malevolent, arcane entity, duh) I very much enjoyed my sassy, power hungry mage staff that kind of hates everyone and talks shit when I make people food or teleport them places. Also that sexy voice doesn’t hurt :3 

I think at one point I looked up who voices it and didn’t recognize the name.... until FFWD a couple years later I started playing ungodly amounts of Overwatch (gold border 1500+ hours on my main acct holla) and hey guess what!? My beloved mage staff’s voice is also the guy who voices hot cowboy Mccree, Matthew Mercer. I still hear “It’s hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh noon” in my goddamn nightmares and wet dreams. *sits a little cowboy hat on my mage staff*

So like 6 months ago, I picked up Fallout 4 because I was super duper into the post apocalyptic aesthetic (It’s because I’m a Junkrat main in Overwatch sorry not sorry and yes I’m gold trash) and I had been going too hard in Overwatch and wanted something with a story and to just maybe chill out on people being huge douchebags and too many of my friends got too serious about comp and I was like, done. Also I had played a fuckton of Skyrim and heard the mechanics were basically the same so I was down. And, as my blog description clearly states, fell in love with it. 

Then, much to my pleasure and surprise, I discovered Matthew Mercer ALSO voiced a character in my new game too! Not just a character, a COMPANION! So I was like, I fucking love you Maccready, you sassy, money hungry merc that kind of hates everyone and talks shit when I do nice things for people - you kind of remind me of a mage staff I used to know (just for the record they don’t sound anything alike, but I’ll be damned if they don’t have the same general personality). It was a weird, like, my whole gaming journey of the last several years coming full circle moment. *duct tapes a little sniper rifle to my already behatted mage staff and hugs it* 

So anyway, that’s my doctoral dissertation on why I love Matthew Mercer JUST SO FREAKING MUCH YOU GUYS there’s a special little Aluneth/Mccree/Maccready shaped place in my heart for him. And not only does he voice these characters that mean a lot to me from games that have meant a lot to me, he’s like a really genuinely cool and nice person. I follow him on Twitter and he’s delightful. Everyone I’ve known that’s met him has nothing but nice things to say. The man is a gift to several fandoms <3 

[raijinhasverybigpecs]

smite high school au (part 3)

part 1 - agni to erlang shen

part 2 - fafnir to odin

part 3 - osiris to zhong kui

notes

the school is a fancy private school with the gods playing a major role as important students and teachers at the school

the gods are not the only employees/students - there are many other students and teachers at the school to fill in the gaps

uniform is like this, but in the emblem colours (i’m too lazy to search up another image, give me a break lmao)

gods have no divine power but keep certain skills, talents and traits that they had with their powers (raijin doesn’t have lightning powers but he’s still good at playing the drums for example)

gods are mostly in human forms and they actually look like people - no super wild claws or fur or any of that shit (aside from cama and baka i think)

just a general note: this isn’t final or anything, and i’d appreciate any feedback or if you wanna add something or change something then please tell me, i’d like everyone’s opinions to be considered :>

roster (part 3: osiris to zhong kui)

(short descriptions/headcannons of gods below)

osiris - hpe and business teacher

Dad™ part 6: the reboot

bad dad jokes all the time, if you can live through that then he’s a super great teacher who will always go the extra mile for students

secretly the strongest staff member, sometimes breaks things accidentally

lovely dovey with isis all the goddamn time, they often get caught out by students and other teachers

poseidon - business teacher

strict, very traditional - teacher who gives out the most detentions

beef with zeus, constantly makes remarks under his breath - most people don’t know what the beef is but it’s p bad

ra - history teacher

Dad™ part 7: the sequel to the reboot

LOUD

BAD PUNS

GOOD STORYTELLER

VERY ANIMATED

best buds with thoth, they’re always having some loud conversation somewhere

raijin - student

jock/nerd mix

goes to the gym a lot, p good wrestler

band nerd, plays drums super well (duh)

probably into anime or some bullshit card game

class clown that has no shame whatsoever

frequently found in detention but most of the teachers find him more entertaining than annoying so he gets off light most of the time

rama - student

chill, in control, top of his class in every subject but he doesn’t show off about it - he’s very willing to tutor others and do whatever he can to help

archery master, ready to go professional

knows all the teachers and students, friendly if not a little removed and detached from everyone when interacting

strange relationship with ravana, rumours go around but no one really knows why they don’t get along

ratatoskr - student

human form is just a short brown haired dude, i honestly don’t have an idea of what he’d look like so if have any suggestions then go ahead

quick little shit, constantly fighting with merc over who is faster

pretty much exactly like merc

troublemaker, spreads rumors like wildfire

besties with discordia, they’re a very malicious pair

ravana - teacher

aggressive but you’ll always get a lot out of his classes, very hands on and direct with what he says and does

reliable, if you ask for help then he’ll do the most

very charming when he wants to be, super smooth and charismatic, also helps to run the debating team and wrestling team

mysterious past, strange beef with rama - no one knows and no one asks 

scylla - student

resting bitch face, more posh than you

vaguely threatening presence, kinda intimdating

no one’s asked about her past and it’s probably better off that way

serqet - arts teacher

teaches all the arts subjects

looks like she just stepped out of a photoshoot at any given opportunity, has a different outfit every day

close with nu wa, the two have tea and gossip every few days at lunch

skadi - security guard

stern, always has a neutral expression on her face

helps out around the school while she’s on the job - she’ll make deliveries from department to department or help ill students to sick bay etc

also helps out when a hpe teacher is away or busy

dog buds with nemesis, the two are close and the can be seen talking with each other often

sobek - groundsman

him good at garden i guess

sol - student

VERY ENTHUSIASTIC

too nice for her own good

her feet don’t touch the ground - she’s nimble and graceful yet she hunches over and sits with her legs spread wide open a lot (the duality of man)

gymnastics star (get it, she’s the sun)

sun wukong - hpe teacher

outgoing, loud, rough - likes joking around with students but he does care a lot

ruggedly handsome, flirts with all the teachers, probably bedded half of the staff in all honesty

there’s something going on with ao kuang, and wukong seems to linger around nu wa a bit too often

hpe teacher, super strong muscles

susano - student

history of being kicked out of other schools, puts up with this bc of his crush on nu wa

cooler than you, better than you at pretty much everything

sylvanus - biology teacher

never anything but happy

very attached to his plants, has names for all of them

could probably get you some weed

terra - nurse

super involved in the school, helps plan events and is there for everything

super nice, good relationships with everyone

works out with nike on the weekends

thanatos - student

e d g y, can’t deny he rocks the goth look tho

strange relationship with jing wei, the two are super close for some reason

super close to hades as well, no one knows why

artistic and very sentimental

actually super nice and soft when you get to know him

the morrigan - student

head bitch, master gossiper

everywhere at once - no one knows how but it’s creepy as shit

thor - hpe and metalworking teacher

easy going, really chill unless loki is around

goes out drinking with chaac, tyr and wukong on the weekends

thoth - teacher

teaches everything, super entertaining and engaging

wears the most extra suits each day

constantly reading, 9% of the time you’ll find him the in library flicking through new books

tyr - english and hpe teacher

super patient on the outside but on the inside he’s tired of all the teacher and student bullshit

cold and distant from conversations with most teachers, but tries to be warmer with students

will kick your ass if you mess around tho

relationship with ullr is kinda obvious, bad at hiding it

ullr - english and woodworking teacher

probably cooler and smarter than you

vamana - history teacher

short, if you make fun of that then he will have a personal vendetta against you

super smart and knowledgeable

vulcan - engineering teacher

in charge of metalworking and all that sorta stuff (idk about that so don’t @ me)

saddled with everyone’s it problems

patient most of the time

xbalanque - student

star soccer player, bit of a show off but his skills are pretty unmatched

charismatic to a fault, super friendly and relaxed

xing tian - groundsman

are you seeing a pattern with this role? yeah fuck you

zhong kui - librarian

super competent, runs a tight ship

sometimes helps the art and maths teachers out when they’re busy, a really good teacher but he doesn’t super enjoy teaching annoying teenagers

[sevdrag]

dreamwidth update: Mobile Game Monday

IT'S MONDAY, MY DUDES: this week's discussion is brought to you by Iggy! let's forget how much we hate our jobs and talk about mobile games instead!

[FFRK] Summer Fest is upon us!! First, let's talk about the lead-in: I pretty much pulled dupes only on the 5 mythril "Realms On Parade" pulls, but hey, stat sticks are cool and it was a cheap fun thing. Between the Lucky Draws and the banner starting yesterday, here's what I have that's new:

Sazh USB (MAG and DEF/RES boost, Hastega, and Astra): this is BOSS. First, because I love Sazh and if you don't you're wrong; second because it's a great buff to layer with other MAG buffs and Sazh is a rocking support with some shooter abilities too. I have his BSB and SSB boosts as well, so Sazh might have just become my second-main buffer, and may need a mote dive.

Ramza's Holy Chain: Ramza is already my primary buffer but this means all he's gonna be doing in my party is Wrath/Lifesiphon constantly to spring SB after SB. I have a great Holy team so this is p sweet. And Ramza is super flexible (he's my main buffer), so he can fit on a lot of teams.

LMs for Noctis & Ignis - these will be useful in realm

Relm USB (instant heal + stoneskin@30% + instacast) - can't wait to put this into play and test it out

Braska USB (damage, add fire/lightning free chase) - who doesn't love Braska? I think Braska and Sazh should be friends. NEW CANON.

The rest were mostly SSBs for characters I don't have a lot else for, which usually means I'm not going to pay that much attention to them, sorry guys. I have learnt them all, however, for future in-realm missions.

My goals for the Summer Fest are pretty straightforward:

Use half-off stamina to grind the 4* mote dungeons and 3* magicites. Goal is >200 of each mote left after fest, plus working towards L99 magicites to break into the 4*s.

Use open dungeons to grind orbs and EXP. Leveling magicites takes a lot of EXP, but I have a lot of characters who could use levels, so that works out. I need Power, Black, Dark orbs like nobody's goddamn business, so I may use some stamina potions there. I have a list of abilities I want to hon eby the end of the fest, but THEN i looked ahead and saw we are getting more 6* abilities, so I may have to grind the crystal levels for each type and just fuse into MOs.

Make sure events get completed on time too

I have enough mythril saved for 1 pull on each banner. That's awesome! And it's all I'm allowed.

Happy Summer Fest, FFRK players!! Let me see the goodies you've gotten!!

[FFBE] FFBE is gradually ramping up to its anniversary festival, which I am looking forward to, and therefore saving lapis like a crazy person. however, that's secondary, because i want to point out two great ass things first:

TODAY I FINALLY PULLED TRANCE TERRA!! I have wanted TT forever because Terra is a fave character of mine, and ALSO because I am still fairly weak in the absolute-DPS-mage department. I was so happy to see her. Fuck I need money and crysts galore to enhance her and I can't wait.

I fully enhanced Fryevia! Everything to +2 level! She's up as my friend unit for my fellow chainers, although she's nowhere near ideal state: I need the 100% moogle for her TM sword, I'm 99% to L&A from Ingus, and I have Kunshira's TM to farm as well. BUT SHE'S ENHANCED. In her full glory!

So those were this week's big successes. Otherwise, I'm grinding away at the raid, and focusing my stamina right now on the cryst-specific dungeons in the story event. They are amazing. Don't bring a joke team, but do bring Lara Croft and enhanced Xon for cryst drops galore. That's how I got Frye done, that's how I'm gonna finish Olive today, and then that's how I'm gonna grind for TT enhancements, shoot my face.

Currently farming: OK's TM sword, Ingus' L&A, Vanille's TM accessory, Crowe's TM Currently leveling: Trance Terra, Merc Ramza, Wilhelm, Rosa, Emperor Shera, Bran Currently enhancing: Olive, TT, deciding on a breaker to go in on

[LN] I'm loving both suits in the desert mirage event which means happy un-diamonds to me, but oh well; that style is my aesthetic and i wants it, precious.

i've sort of stalled out on story because i have to go back and do a bunch of bonus rounds i didn't do for farming crafting, and for some reason my brain is all like eeehhhhhhhhhhh so i spend stamina farming for evolutions instead. i really need to go back and clean them all up. i have super powerful pieces now!

I'm working on crafting Lunar Spell and Yanila Pirate, for the record. But to do that I need to make it to Princess Ch 13 for farming purposes. That sounds like a good thing to do during an afternoon break, yes?

[other] i don't have any other games atm, but i'm considering mobius again because of the FFXII event and my desperate love for XII. Other games I have downloaded on recommendation are Reigns: Her Majesty and DragonVale although I haven't gotten into either yet.

[cat] The real star of the show today is Iggy Usazi Alton Brown Marmalade (Dragomire). He's a shorthair grey marble - instead of the usual tabby stripes, he has dark and light grey marbling in his coat. it makes him incredibly cute. he's the social brother, a little bit of a troublemaker, and a real sucker for belly rubs.

comments Comment? https://ift.tt/2KjS8sw

[griffter]

▌real name: griffith angelo d’aquino. ▌single or taken: single but.. we’re working on it. ▌abilities or powers: gun handling, knife combat, self defense (trained in standard boxing, wrestling, and has undergone courses that are essentially ripped straight from marine corps martial arts training programs), basic survival skills (desert-based, primarily, as that’s where the majority of his merc work took place),   ▌eye color: a brown so dark it’s nearly black. ▌hair color: black. ▌family members: parents are sebastian d’aquino sr. and sheila d’aquino (nee walsh); six siblings, hugo (58), giorgia and emily (twins, 53), mia (49), lucas (47), and sebastian (44); one maternal uncle, max, and two fraternal, arthur and daniel (both deceased). ▌pets: n/a. has considered getting a dog, but doesn’t feel like he’d be able to actually be there for it as much as he should be, but if he ever considers retirement/a more permanent living situation then he’d probably get one. ▌something they don’t like: when people try to be all buddy-buddy with him, especially on jobs, especially if he barely knows them. he doesn’t like that sense of fake camaraderie, it makes him deeply uncomfortable. ▌hobbies/activities: crime, obviously, primarily bank robbery but he doesn’t mind getting involved in other things; more mundane hobbies include hiking, rock climbing, camping, boxing, playing video games, reading; at the home he keeps in new york, he has a library, and there’s an extensive collection of books there. ▌ever hurt anyone before: yes. frequently. as griff is fond of saying, you can’t be in crime without being a little criminal; he’s dealt out plenty of pain in his years, both professionally and on the side. his brief stint in the world of underground boxing was bloody. he’s picked more than a handful of fights in bars – and not just yelling and some halfhearted punches. he’s thrown chairs, broken tables by slamming people into them, broken fingers and skulls and noses. he doesn’t flinch from violence, though that isn’t to say he revels in it, either; he’s not exactly apathetic, just doesn’t know how to deal with his emotions in any other way (but he doesn’t ever hurt the people cares about, i.e. his family/etc. he either deals with it by fighting or getting out the anger through work, or by going to a gym and taking it out on a punching bag/working it out through exercise). ▌ever killed anyone before: yes. 11 years of his life has been spent as a mercenary, seven with private military then four as a freelance killer in europe; his confirmed body count in europe was 13. outside of work, griff has only killed 3 people: his first was at the age of 16, when the eldest son of a “rival” family decided to send griff’s father a message by beating on griff (sebastian had refused to work with their family, and this was the retaliation for insulting them). griff fought back, unintentionally breaking his neck, then finishing the job by stabbing him in the throat. the other two kills were purely victims of circumstance; one was a man griff fought in the underground boxing he participated in (he didn’t die in the ring, but a few days later from injuries sustained); the second, a civilian who tried to be a hero during a robbery and earned a shotgun blast to the head for his trouble. ▌animal that represents them: a snake. ▌worst habits: the inability to own up to his feelings is the biggest one. this definitely extends beyond his sexuality; he’s not very good at showing his family (or the very rare friend that he has) that he cares for them. he’s not good at voicing his emotions, choosing instead to isolate (he camps by himself a lot) or something stupid like fighting (as mentioned above). he’s just very childish when it comes to emotions, and it’s goddamn annoying, and definitely makes it difficult to be friends with him. ▌role models: during their time together as mercs, jason became a sot-of role model for griff, with the impression he left continuing to influence griff into adulthood. his brother seb is also someone griff has constantly looked up to; because he’s only two years older, he’s the sibling griff was closest to. he helped griff deal with the body after his first murder; he’s the one who encouraged him to pursue theatre, then to leave home/the family when he saw how unhappy and uncomfortable griff was with them (seb has always known griff is gay, and hoped that by encouraging him to leave, he’d be helping him get to a place where he could learn to come to terms with who he is). griff has always admired the ferocity with which seb loves, and envies how easy-going he is. he’s tried to imitate it, but has never been able to perfect it. ▌sexual orientation: gay. ▌thoughts on marriage/kids: he doesn’t want kids, and doesn’t care for marriage in a traditional sense; he doesn’t believe in the ceremony and the paperwork. that’s not to say he wouldn’t flat-out deny a guy if it came to it, but he definitely wouldn’t want anything big. he thinks the commitment of saying i love you and then proving it by coming home every day is enough. ▌fears: being outed, and as an extension, coming to terms with being out; the reaction from his family; the act of actually being with a man again, though i think it’s less about actually being gay these days (because.. he understands it’s okay/natural, he’s really gotten over that fear and left it in his youth) and more of a fear of learning to love again, afraid he would lose it/ruin it like he did in the past. ▌style preferences: basic.. but like.. still kinda stylish? yeah he wears that ugly shirt with a cross on it in the movie, but that’s just how he dresses on jobs, primarily to throw people off and not let them get too familiar with who he really is. when he’s camping, of course he favors hiking boots and henleys. his style is dictated by what personality he’s presenting; in atlanta, he’s a hardened criminal, and dresses kinda corny to fit the part. in new york, he’s just another face in a crowd, but he wants to look good and feels more comfortable presenting closer to the look he likes in such a big city; he likes expensive dress shirts (and leans towards pastel colors) or designer shirts (he likes floral patterns like this) when he’s in new york, though sometimes he favors a more punk look (leather jacket, etc) when wearing more stylish and designer clothing makes him feel too exposed. he feels like there’s certain things expected from a guy who lives a life like him, who looks like he does, and sometimes he ends up falling prey to those stereotypes, because he’s too scared to let himself be who he really is. ▌someone they love: honestly.. to be honest……. he still has a little bit of love for jason and that’s never going to change. he also loves his brother seb a lot, and of course his other siblings as well – they were all incredibly close growing up, and while he’s chosen to isolate, it isn’t because he hates them. he loves his family, he just needs to find his way back to them. ▌approach to friendships: he keeps anyone at arm’s length, though he does have some tentative friendships, all built on a mutual interest in crime, though the word friend is rarely ever used. griff tends to avoid “normal” people, not wanting to get them entangled in the life he lives; he doesn’t really have any genuine friends, people he goes out to coffee with or to the movies with or whatever, or people to talk to, actually, but god he needs it. ▌thoughts on pie: he’d kill you for pumpkin pie probably, ▌favorite drink: alcohol-wise, he loves strawberry cream tequila, and whiskey. liquor aside, he just drinks water and orange juice. ▌favorite place to spend time at: he loves the wilderness honestly! he goes camping every other weekend. he goes to the gym daily and really finds comfort in that routine. he doesn’t really like being at his atlanta apartment much, which is why he doesn’t spend too much money on it, or time in it. ▌swim in the lake or in the ocean: lakes; he developed a slight fear of the open water after working on fishing boats off of the west coast. ▌their type: we’ll have to revisit this…….. i need more interactions w/ him before i say either way what he likes