#Ignore the random ass green I was looking for the yellow but I picked wrong.

[tvntheatre]

Eight full bodies, holy smokes???

User @ballcrusher74 I hope you know Faux plagues me daily whenever I feel down. and is also very spindly to draw, that's always fun.

if the cut-off for the close ups here break I'll fucking kill someone.

I hate paper it distorted thy perfectly good Faux!!!

I no wanna ballpen this what if it ruins

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter Two: Courtship Of Care

Chapter One Here

Chapter Three Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: After Y/n’s encounter with Hawks, things in their life start to change. They have a creeping feeling that someone is watching them, and they get mysterious gifts and letters.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: Stalking, toxic behavior, mention of suicide, mentions of clowns, multiple fourth wall breaks, hospitals, mentions of blood, violence, mentions of surgeries

Other: Sukaibado park is not a real place, however, Nishi Ward in Fukuoka is a real place. This was meant to be longer but I hit the word limit, so it’ll get pushed to the next chapter! Sorry! If you have any critics or questions don’t hesitate to let me know! I want this to be the best it possibly can be for your entertainment!!

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy​ @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin @assassinslittlesister (lemme know if you want to join or leave the taglist)

“Well, she’s clearly a bitch.”

You laughed at Izanagi’s reaction to the woman that yelled at you. You were in the back of his car, as sometimes your wings would get in the way of Izanagi’s driving, so it was just easier to sit like this.

“I mean- you’re not wrong.” You chuckled. “I’m just glad Hawks managed to get rid of her!”

“What’s he like?” Izanagi asked. “Hawks, is he as awesome in person?”

“You’re a simp.” You teased, laughing as he spluttered to defend himself. “I guess he’s pretty chill. He’s a lot taller than I thought he’d be, though.”

You’d chosen not to tell your friend about the creepy vibes you’d gotten from the hero, it was probably nothing anyway. He was a bird, like you, so he was probably just curious about you also being a bird. Even though you were a Parakeet and he was theorized to be a Red-Tailed Hawk. Animal quirks were uncommon, and among the animal quirks, you mostly saw dogs and cats, even goats were more common than birds. Plus, it wasn’t exactly a good idea to tell your best friend his celebrity crush was a creep.

“How much taller?” he asked

“I don’t know… maybe about four- no, five inches taller than me.”

“Damn- and with me being shorter than you by two inches that’s- fuck he’s a lot taller than me.” he murmured.

“Like I said before. You’re a simp.”

“Shut uppp!” he whined.

The rest of your day was peaceful (if anything including Izanagi could be considered ‘peaceful’), and you were grateful you only lived a block away from Izanagi, it made it a lot easier to get home. Thinking back, maybe you should have taken a moment or two to stop. Stop and look around, maybe then you would have seen the flash of red against the darkening sky, or felt his eyes bearing into your back. Maybe then you could have stopped everything, but it was too late now.

Sleeping wasn’t always comfortable. Beds that were shaped and built like actual bird’s nests were too expensive for you to afford with your salary, plus it was just way too big to fit in your tiny studio. Which meant you had to deal with the tiny bed and all the different ways your body could hurt in the morning.

You sat up, groaning and patting around your bed to find your phone, finally locating it on your nightstand. You grabbed it, turned it on, and scanned your lock screen, taking in your notifications. Thank fuck it was Saturday, and you didn’t have to go to work. Thank fuck again that your days off were on the weekends. Thank fuck a third time that Izanagi invited you to go to the park with him and your other friend, Kouten Yuu. Thank fuck a fourth and final time the messages were fresh and not sent an hour ago, which gave you plenty of time to get ready.

“Welp,” you muttered. “Time to get up and fuck the day.” you forced yourself into a sitting position, stumbling out of bed and almost immediately flopping back onto the mattress again. Maybe today wouldn’t be the easiest day to fuck. You sighed, pushing yourself up again and stretching. Your wings had been crushed by your body’s natural sleeping position, so being able to spread them wide in the mornings helped with preventing stiff wing muscles. That meant less cramps! Yay!

“Sukaibado park, huh? Guess Kouten and Izanagi are hoping to get me in the sky today.” Sukaibado park was a popular park in Nishi Ward, Fukuoka, that had laws protecting people with flying quirks, allowing them to take to the say in the surrounding area. It certainly helped that the park was located near the beach.

You stood up, grabbing some clean clothes off the ground from your drawer and putting them on. You glanced out the window as you dressed. You let out a sigh, grateful you could afford a home in such a beautiful area of Japan. You and Izanagi lived across from Sukaibado Park and had a great view of both park and beach just beyond it. In reality, you shouldn’t be able to afford this place, but since the flat itself was so small, it was just in the range of affordable.

You quickly brushed your hair and teeth, and texted Kouten, asking him to pick up something for you to eat on his way there. It was kind of a ritual between the three of you, everyone brought something to the table. Kouten brought the food, Izanagi brought his guitar, and you would bring your amazing singing voice! The three of you were practically a band already!

Aw who you are you trying to kid? Izanagi just picked up the guitar after quitting drums, trumpet, and piano, and your ‘singing’ was mostly chirps. It was a miracle Kouten hung out with you guys, let alone fed your poor asses. You grabbed your keys and opened the front door-

Huh.

What?

A small box was waiting for you on your doorstep, unlabeled except for neat cursive writing spelling out your name. You picked up the box and put it on the nearest surface inside, choosing to ignore it. Today was for flying, stretching your wings, pretending to like Izanagi’s music, and devouring whatever Kouten brought you.

As expected, Kouten and Izanagi were already there, waiting for you at one of the picnic tables with a full course meal on the table. You could smell it from the park entrance, and were at the table in an instant. It would have startled the boys if they’d not already grown used to it.

“Fuck, Kouten what did you bring this time?” you asked, looking up from the food for a moment to take in your friend’s appearances. Izanagi was dressed casually as usual. White t-shirt, blue jeans, and a grey sweatshirt wrapped around his waist. His long, light blue hair tied up in a ponytail as he chowed down on a large chicken wing. But do not be fooled- despite looking like an innocent UwU smol bean, Izanagi was a force to be reckoned with. Do not ever comment on his short stature or this man will kick you into worlds beyond.

Kouten was the complete opposite of Izanagi, both in looks and personality. Today, he’d adorned a light blue sweater and black pants, and even painted his nails yellow. Kouten’s hair was short and super curly, and his eyes were a startling green color. His resting bitch face and six feet of height was usually enough to scare most people off, however, Kouten was the sweetest man you’d ever met. Best hugs, best advice, most importantly…

“FRIED CHICKEN!” you shouted ecstatically. Of course! For such a beautiful day, Kouten would bring his best food. “Oh thank fuck for the fifth time! I’ve been craving this all week!”

You sat down, hurriedly muttering ‘itadakimas’ before snatching as many pieces of chicken as you possibly could and devouring them. Who gave a flying fuck if you looked like a cannibal? The chicken was delicious! Besides, you weren’t a chicken, you were a parakeet. There was a difference.

“Woah, hey, slow down a bit, Y/n” Kouten cautioned. “You’re gonna give yourself a stomach ache! Don’t eat more than five-”

“Five?” Izanagi interrupted. “Pussy, no more than eight.”

“Eight?!” you stared at your blue-haired friend with wide-eyes and a stuffed mouth. “Pussy. No more than eleven.”

“ELEVEN?” Kouten shook his head. “Oh no, if you eat that many you’ll hurt yourself for sure aaand you’ve already eaten twelve. Why do I even bother?” he threw his hands up in defeat. You and Izanagi continued to argue about how much chicken was too much, ignoring poor Kouten. That’s pretty much how things usually went between the three of you, you and Izanagi being dumbasses and Kouten being the only sane person there.

After thirty minutes of eating, came Izanagi’s ear-bleeding ‘song’ about some girl he knew in high school. If only he’d tuned his guitar beforehand, maybe then it wouldn’t have felt like nails on a chalkboard to you and Kouten. You lasted eight minutes before you finally had to put a stop to the terror he reigned on your poor ears. Then came the best part of the day, flying! Izanagi and Kouten would chat about random things on the ground as you soared high above them.

Flying is difficult to describe, but thankfully, whenever you are asked, you have an answer.

It’s liberation, ecstasy, and anxiety. The liberation was not being bound by the laws that chain others to the dirt. Being able to freely soar, reaching places others could only dream of being. The ecstasy was speed, dipping and diving and looping around the clouds. Being able to fly right through those fluffy bundles of water. The anxiety was falling, failing and getting yourself hurt.

That one day you’ll fly to high, and your wings of wax will melt. That the sun’s bright light will blind you to the incoming plane of reality and kill you. The knowledge that you wouldn’t even realise it, falling is just like flying.

It’s beautiful and you wouldn’t give it up for the world. In the sky, it’s calm. People don’t stare, or whisper. No one bumps into you, the world is all yours when you’re in the air. Even if you struggle to breathe, it always feels worth it. Worth the soreness in your wings after a long flight, worth the hammering of your heart after just pulling up in time to not hit the ground, worth it all. It’s exhilarating.

Word of advice for you free birds, fly while you still can, you never know when you might get caught up in a cage.

Landing was always the most difficult part. Hawks always seemed to be able to do it with ease, but you knew from experience that it was a lot more difficult than it looks. You could feel your whole body float for a second before you dove down. The ground rising to meet your weightless body faster and faster, before your folded wings extended, and you tilted them upwards, carrying your body up again, as you swooped above the ground, righting yourself and landing with just a few flaps of your multi-colored wings.

“Best part of the day~” you cooed, stretching your arms as you folded your wings behind your back. Kouten and Izanagi looked at you in awe.

“I wish my quirk would let me fly.” Izanagi grumbled. “I can’t do shit with light manipulation.” he flicked his wrist, forming a small crystal of light in his palm. It flickered for a moment before vanishing.

“Come on, don’t be so hard on yourself!” you sat down next to your friend, patting his back sympathetically. “I think your quirk is beautiful! I still have that little star hanging on my wall!”

When you and Izanagi were still littler children, and his quirk was still in development, he’d made a small star out of light. It would glow when you touched it, and it was like having an actual star in your hand. It was so shiny, transparent but sparkly, filled with a dazzling array of rainbow specks, a faint glow dappling your walls with miniature constellations.

“Yeah, Izanagi. Think about it for a sec.” Kouten offered. “Your quirk is certainly better than mine. Being able to identify any flavor isn’t all that impressive. Helpful for my job, but not much other than that.” Izanagi looked up at Kouten, frown only deepening.

“If you really think that about your quirk, than you’re even more of an idiot than I thought.” he grumbled.

“Izanagi! Not the right time!” you glared at him, and he just shrugged you off.

“No seriously, even if your quirk has that single use, it’s still a use. You’ve made the best meals I’ve ever tasted. Remember Colonel Sanders? According to legend, that man wrote down the OG KFC recipe on a hill as he contemplated suicide. I’m pretty sure he had a quirk similar to yours. If his chicken was good enough to save his own life, then surely it’s saved others, right? Be like him.”

You softened, smiling at Izanagi. Even if he was a bit of an ass, he had a heart of gold. He’d never let any of his friends feel down. You were pretty sure he threatened to punch away your deathly fear of clowns. Not the clowns, but the fear itself. Weird, but touching.

“That.... was the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t understand how it’s touching, but it is. Thanks, man.” Kouten pulled Izanagi in for a hug, and you cooed. However, you guys were friends, so things really couldn’t stay wholesome.

“Gayyyy”

“Dude I’m literally bi.” Izanagi glared at you.

“Gayyyyyyyyy” you laughed, so did Kouten. Izanagi rolled his eyes, but eventually he too, chuckled a little.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Anyways I gotta go, I’ll the you two weirdos later, kay?” he grabbed his guitar, waving at the two of you.

“Later, buddy!” Kouten shouted after him, waving.

“Bye!” you smiled, waving him off before turning back to Kouten. “So what should we do?”

“Great suggestion, Kou, but we need something entertaining that we can do right now.

“Head to your place and watch YouTube?” he shrugged, and you nodded.

“Perfect plan. Knew I could count on you!” you laughed, helping Kouten clean up the mess on the picnic table before heading across the street to your flat. You keyed the door, opening it and walking in.

Kouten’s eyes immediately fell onto the package you’d received earlier. You’d just tossed it onto the coffee table half-hazardly.

“What’s that?” he asked curiously.

“I dunno really. I just found it on my doorstep.” you shrugged, sitting down and opening your laptop.

“Seems kinda creepy, it doesn’t have a return address.” he frowned. “It could have a tracking device in it- you should just throw it away.” you nodded, Kouten was probably right. He usually was. You promised to throw it away after a few Vine compilations.

You lied.

After Kouten left, you turned to the package. It had been hours since it was left on your doorstep, you were really hoping it wasn’t food or anything. You sat down on the edge of your bed with the package in your hands, slowly peeling the tape off and opening it.

You were… reasonably underwhelmed by the contents of the package. It was just a beanie hat. Yellow with a red feather embroidered on. Hawks merch. Maybe you’d accidentally ordered it? Or maybe Izanagi sent it to you. Yeah it was probably him. You’d have to thank him the next time you saw him.

You put the hat down on your nightstand, checking the time. Maybe you should make lunch. You believed it was the last of the unlabeled gifts. You were sorely mistaken.

The next day, there was another package.

“Seriously, Izanagi?” you grumbled. “Another?” you picked it up and brought it back inside, opening it hastily. You couldn’t lie, you were at least a little curious to what he’d gotten you this time.

A… bottle cap? No, five bottle caps.

“Fuckin weirdo.” you muttered, brushing it off and umping the caps next to the hat and continuing on with your day.

The third day, the package had a weird note attached to it, reading your coffee order from that morning. You pursed your lips, ripping the note apart in fear before opening the box. You screamed.

There was a dead squirell inside.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you dropped the box in your shock and fear, and the poor animal fell out onto your floor. You paused for a moment to take a deep breath. You crouched down next to the animal, poking it lightly. Maybe it was still alive?

Nope.

Dead.

Dead as fuck.

You shuddered, wrapping it up in a paper towel and taking it out back, holding a small funeral for it and burying it.

Who the fuck was sending you these things? It was clearly not Izanagi. He was an animal lover, and he’d never do this. You felt like throwing up, but for some reason (probably plot convenience), you didn’t say anything.

A few days later, something terrible happened.

You remembered your phone buzzing, and you sat up to pick it up. It was the middle of the night and you were trying to sleep. It was Izanagi. The fuck was he calling you for right now? You hit accept and pressed the cold screen to your ear.

“It’s 1:23 AM. Explain.” you growled into the phone.

“It’s Kouten- he was attacked! I- I’m taking him to the hospital right now, come quick! I’m taking him to Sanno Hospital near Fukuoka tower!” he exclaimed. You sat up, suddenly wide awake.

“What?”

“I’m driving, so I gotta put the phone down, but hurry!”

Beep

Beep

Beep

The call ended. You were already on your feet, pulling on clothes and grabbing your car keys. You rushed into your car and drove as fast as legally possible.

What the fuck happened? Kouten… attacked? By whom? Was he okay? What kind of injuries had he sustained? Was he concsious? Was he breathing? How had Izanagi found him? What the hell was going on? Was this related to your stalker?

Your mind buzzed with scenarios, all the way to Sanno Hospital, all the way across the parking lot, through the doors, as you talked to the man behind the counter, on the way to the ICU. Then your mind was blank again.

You sat next to Izanagi in the hallway, both of you sitting near a door with a large lit-up LED sign. Surgery in Progress. Your hands folded in your lap. You were so dizzy, what the fuck was happening? Myabe it was because you were tired, or still in shock, but it didn’t feel real.

Was Kouten really behind that door? Were doctors really slicing him open? Were you really here? You still felt the warmth of your blankets from just twenty-seven minutes before. Had it really been almost a half hour? It felt like it had just been a few seconds.

Nothing felt right.

“Hey.” you slowly turned your head around to look at Izanagoi. “You okay?” he asked. You sighed, shaking your head. “Do you want to hear what happened? Think that’ll make you feel better?”

You paused for a moment, slowly nodding. You didn’t want to speak. If you opened your mouth, you feared you’d let all the meals you’d eaten force their way up your throat.

“I got a text. It was from Kouten, he just sent his location. I didn’t know why, but I figured it was important. So I went there. I shouldn’t have taken my time. I found him in an alleyway near the tower, he was so still. I’d never seen him like that. He was- Kouten was soaked in blood. There was a knife lodged into his chest an I- I panicked. You know the rest I think.” he trailed off, looking away from you. Your eyes fell to the floor, still silent.

How many minutes had it been?

The next thing you knew, A doctor was speaking to you, saying something about successful surgery, how he was in recovery, how he needed rest. A moment later, you were standing outside Izanagi’s car. Numb. You decided with him silently to go back to his place and stay the night together. You could get your car in the morning.

Izanagi offered you his bed, and he would sleep on the couch. But you couldn’t sleep. At all. Your mind was racing. You jumped up when you heard the door creak open.

Oh.

It was Izanagi.

You patted the sheets next to you, and he crawled in with you. For a moment, you felt a spark of excitement in your cheeks, but it disappeared quickly, just like your consciousness now that he was here.

The next day, you still felt numb. Better, but still numb. You woke up with Izanagi’s arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried into the crook of your shoulder. Your wing flopped over him. You sat up, rubbing his face to wake him up. His eyes slowly blinked open, brown orbs looking up at you.

“Hey… Y/n.” he mumbled.

“Mornin’ Iza.” you turned around, checking the time. “Sorry, I still have to work.” you told him. He nodded, understanding. He drove you there, and promised to take you to the hospital after, so you could pick up your car. The entire day at work seemed so slow. Everyone dragged their conversations with you on for forever. Time was moving so slow. It felt like a century had passed when Izanagi picked you up.

You didn’t speak, he just took you to the hospital. Then, everything moved quick again. You were outside Kouten’s hospital room, holding Izanagi’s hand.

You almost didn’t want to go in. You stared at the ground, vision blurry. Izanagi squeezed your hand, re-grounding you.

“Ready?” he asked, looking at you with soft eyes.

“Never.” you chuckled breathlessly.

He nodded with you, opening the hospital room door and walking in with you.

You kept your eyes glued to the ground, feeling Izanagi tighten his grip on your hand. You could hear the beeping of the monitor, but you didn’t want to see it.

“Hey… guys.” Kouten. You ripped your gaze from the floor to direct it at the hospital bed. You felt a chill freeze your throat, choking you. Your friend was laying down in the bed, hooked up to tubes and machines, bandages covering most of his body, including one of his eyes. He looked tired and thin, unlike his usual cheerful manner.

“Hey, Kouten.” Izanagi managed to pull the words from his chest and put them in the air, a talent you could not yet access. You just… stared. Everything felt so still, even as Izanagi pulled you to a chair beside Kouten. You could hear the muffled sounds of your friends talking to each other, but you weren’t really there. Your ears were ringing and your vision blurred.

“Y/n? You good there, Buddy?” Kouten’s voice broke you from your fog. You looked up at him, and he offered you a smile. You could feel the ice that had been stuck to your skin since last night melt away under his sweet gaze.

“Yeah, sorry Kou. I’m just… scared. Did- did you see your attacker?” Kouten frowned, shaking his head solemnly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see their face. But I did see blonde hair and something red, probably blood, but I don’t know. It kind of looked like a sword, maybe? But also looked like- I don’t know.” he shook his head again, apologetic.

“Why were you out there anyways?” Izanagi asked him.

“I just needed some air, and the city is really pretty at night… and maybe I got a text from someone cute on a dating app and wanted to meet them…” the last part was muttered under his breath. You couldn’t help but face-palm.

“I’d lecture you on how fucking dumb that is, but I think you’ve already learned your lesson.” Izanagi scolded, “You fucking dumbass! Thank fuck you’re okay!”

After about fiteen minutes, a nurse came in and told you and Izanagi that he needed more rest, advizing the two of you to head back home and return tomorrow.

You could barely think, why? Why was this happening? How could this even be happening?

And why couldn’t you do anything about it?

[burning-clutch]

If A Ghost Howls In A Forest…

cross posted to a03: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30503925 Danny was hoping his time at a summer camp would be ghost-free, and well, of course not. When would things in his life ever NOT involve ghosts? At least he can hope to get some decent rest tonight, right? RIGHT? Warning: mild descriptions of death 

-.-.-.-.-

Prompt by: KC Summer Camps is not complete without a courage test of walking to the haunted woods at midnight. Amity Park campers are weirdly prepared for this. Other campers are not sure how to deal with that

-.-.-.-.-.-

“Why are we doing this?”

“It’s a sort of initiation type of thing.”

“But WHY?!”

“For the spooks?”

“I’ll get the lipstick…”

“Wait what?”

Danny sighed as he watched Tucker neander off back to their cabin to fetch the Fenton lipstick ray, ignoring the looks of confusion that was shot his way from the other campers that he didn’t know from school. Dash and Kwan had thankfully been, well, not assholes the WHOLE time they had been in the camp. Though to be fair, it had only been a day in this week long fun filled… whatever this was.

Apparently, while things seemed to start out well they were told around the evening campfire and cookout, (which was mostly just them poking hotdogs on sticks and trying not to burn themselves when they ate them,) they were told about a tradition about the new campers being lead up to spend a few hours on their first night on a midnight hike through the ‘haunted’ woods.

Danny was the first to groan hearing this followed by Tucker. Even Dash and Kwan looked unamused as well as the random soccer player that Danny vaguely recognized from school.

To say the councillors were confused by the amity park kids’ reactions would be selling the gambit of expression the councillors had. Teenagers being put in charge of slightly younger teenagers, yeah, nothing could go wrong here, nothing at all…

Tucker came back and tossed Danny a wrist ray while tucking the lipstick he had retrieved into his shirt pocket. A boy from some small farming town an hour’s drive from the camp shuddered. “Haunted Woods? How are you not worried about dark haunted woods? Ghosts are in there!” he exclaimed.

“Cuz it’s just ghosts right?” The Amity soccer player shrugged.

“Yeah, I mean the story they told us said that right? Those hikers that got hurt and died in the woods still haunt it to this day” Kwan supplied with a roll of his eyes. The jock wiggled his fingers doing a decent impression of the box ghost with an even more intimidating “OoooOOOoooOO”

“Yeah, unless they’re gonna be sporting some cool gore this will be lame,” Dash added with a yawn. “Pass.” Dash waved the councillor off before trying to turn and head off.

“Well, you don’t HAVE to go on the hike. But those who skip out will have to endure the punishment tomorrow. If you wanna peel hundreds of potatoes tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn you’re welcome to head back…. We’re also going to label you as a coward too so there’s that.”  One of the councillors says with a smug smile on their face.

“Has anyone ever seen anything like that?” A nervous looking twig of a boy asked, wringing his hands nervously.

“Oh I won’t say anything on that matter” The second councillor, Jeff says. At least Danny thinks he remembers the name as Jeff. He should probably learn that given this guy was in charge of the cabin he was staying in, “It’ll be better to leave it as a surprise.”

The first councillor, a jock looking guy, built like a brick house with thick shoulders and neck but a tiny waist and legs looking very much like he needed a few more rounds on leg day, eyed the Amity group with a look as though he were going to try to take scaring them as a challenge. Danny looked the guy over, raising a brow when their eyes locked.

Great, he and Tucker looked like an easy target. He knew that look all too well having spent plenty of time being bullied as well as with angry ghosts who underestimated him. More fun tonight will be had by all he was sure.

“Don’t worry We’ll make sure you’ll get some proper spooks.” the brick house says with what Danny assumed the other thought was an intimidating grin.

Dash snorted. “Fenton’s probably the only one who’ll get scared of the ghosts out there. He runs away from all of them back home.”

“Have you seen my parents? Get too close to a ghost and it picks up some contamination you know exactly what they’ll do!” Danny spat back with a glare of his own only barely managing to stop his eyes from glowing in his rapidly souring mood.

The other kids at the camp blink in confusion. “Wait… You guys are from that tourist town that goes way too far with the ghost theme right?” asked a pale kid with brown hair.

“Oh please, that’s just a gimmick” Answered another kid who crossed his arms in a huff.

“It’s not a gimmick dude, we even have our own superhero!” Kwan answered.

“Uh-huh. Well you’re superhero ain’t gonna save you from the ghosts out here”  Jeff shot back, crossing his arms. “Right, Tom?”

The brick house, Tom apparently nodded knowingly. “Yep, these ghosts are very dangerous and angry ya know..”

“So? It IS Monday,” Tucker offered flatly, earning a snort from the soccer player.

“Can we just… not do this?” A darker skinned nervous boy whined holding onto the arm of the brown haired kid reminding Danny of him and Tucker from two years ago before they got jaded from ghost attacks.

Kinda made him wonder what could have been…

“Nope we're going, so move,” Tom ordered taking up the place at the back of the line while Jeff took the place at the front.

Danny groaned. “Wonder if there will be any ghosts in there?” He wonders to tucker as they were all forced into a line for their ‘spooky’ hike.

“Maybe it’ll be one of Vlad’s abominations?” Tucker suggested.

“Honestly I wouldn't be surprised.” Danny sighed back with a frown. At least if it was a real ghost his ghost sense would alert him to the danger before they got too close.

They entered the treeline and started heading up a hill and towards the supposed site where the hikers had fallen and gotten trapped by a rock or something falling on them. Their legs were broken and crushed and stuck in place, they apparently died unable to get food or drink and unable to free themselves alone, and not able to scream loud enough for help. They still haunt this area… apparently.

Danny had to admit while the tragedy would be able to spawn a ghost but he also doubted there was one sentient around here if there was a ghost at all. He couldn’t sense very high ectoplasmic concentrations around here. Any ghosts that weren’t purely animalistic in nature wouldn’t last long out here without a boost of ecto-energy.

Which means if there was an animal ghost, that boost of energy could come from attacking humans or eating things as animals tend to do... Again attacking humans but instead of feasting on their emotions, well it’s just getting mauled.

More than anything it meant that if there was a malevolent ghost out there that they would have to be on their toes, and Tucker would have to run interference to make sure no one sees Phantom this far from Amity Park.

Well, at least none of the Amity park residents see Phantom this far from Amity.

As they walked up towards the crescent of the hill they noticed it was significantly colder, though it wasn’t a ghostly cold, at least those from Amity knew it wasn’t. The other kids though?

“Oh, man… Why is it so chilly?!” “You think that means the ghosts are close?” “No way man stop saying stupid stuff.”

“It’s probably the river,” Tucker said simply, pointing to the side where there was a winding stream just below the side of the hill. “The way the winds are blowing it’s cooling this area more.”

Danny smirked at his friend's explanation. It was a neat trick sure, but it wasn’t enough to scare the Amity kids. Frowning but not discouraged, the councillors led their troupe up and around towards a cave that was making a moaning noise every time the wind blew.

“They say this is where the hikers were killed, just at the mouth of this tunnel looking for shelter,” Tom says smirking, enjoying the shudders some of the younger teens were giving at the howls of the tunnel. “If you listen you can hear them screaming still.”

“The wind in the tunnel opening?” Kwan asked helpfully.

“No, it’s the howls of the damned.” Jeff encouraged

“And if you look close enough you can sometimes make out the glowing soul of their spirits,” Tom added ignoring the Amity jock.

“Oh neat! I didn’t know they had Panellus stipticus in this area!” The soccer jock said overly happily.

“Dude, when did you become a nerd.” Dash huffed out teasingly.

“I’m studying Bio to get into Uni for Mycology. Dude mushrooms are totally awesome.” Came the smug reply.

“You would know Kevin” Dash snapped back

“Moving on!” Tom called out before shooing the kids away. This was not going according to plan at all… Why are these Amity kids so prepared for this?! Well, hopefully, the next bit will get them…

As they round the cave towards a small rocky outcropping the councillors do their best to draw the younger teen’s attention towards the crevasse where there was supposedly still a shoe from one of the deceased hikers. “If y’all look hard enough you’ll find it I’m sure~,” Jeff told them.

Frowning the kids shined flashlights down into the ditch looking about before one kid called out, “I found a shoe!”

As they did several things happen at once. There was a roaring sound of pain before someone came bolting out of the woods with yellow and green glowing spots all over them. Tucker raised a brow but side-eyed Danny who shrugged.

The Amity kids watched in more confusion than fear as the ‘ghost’ ran out of the woods towards them and took a swipe at one of the youngest teens in their group. “So that’s your ghost? Lame.” Dash huffed out arms crossed. “It’s not even the right colours.” he added with a wave of his hand ignoring the screeching of some of the other kids who were clearly more startled by the ‘ghost’ than he was.

“So, can we go now?” Danny asked with a yawn as the ghost, or really one of the councillors with broken glow stick goo all over them came close to him with an ‘oooooOOOOoooo’

“You guys really didn’t even flinch?!” the ‘ghost complained.

“Oh hey, there you go now THAT looks more convincing.” Someone says just as Danny’s breath fogged a bit before his face.

The halfa looked to where his ghost sense had pointed him to see a big giant green drooling monster beast glaring at the humans towering over the majority of even the tallest in the group. “Yeah, that looks more like a ghost! How’d you do that?” The soccer player said, (Danny really needed to learn his name)

Tom and Jeff and the ‘ghost’ that was harassing Danny all yelp and take a few steps back while the non-Amity kids scrabble and scatter back the way they came.

“No he’s real,” Danny offers with a sigh of exasperation. “Here Cujo down!”

The beast barked and wagged its tail before shrinking down and giving a yip of delight before rushing over to Danny, legs never fully touching the ground as he flew over to the boy.

“Heel! Sit!” Danny calls out stopping the dog in its tracks before the beast could cover him in glowing green slobber.

Cujo did just that sitting practically on Danny’s feet and wiggling his tail so fast it made his butt jiggle back and forth in the effort. The teen sighed and scooped the wiggling beast up into his arms with little effort, mostly due to the fact that ghost dogs only weigh half of what their flesh and bone counterparts would.

“Figures Fent-freak would have a freaky ghost dog” Dash taunted crossing his arms though when Cujo growled, Dash’s smug smile fell.  

“Tha-That’s?” Jeff stammered out, pointing a shaking finger at the wiggling green bean in Danny’s hands.

“A typical Amity park ghost yeah,” Danny replied with a grin.  “So it's cool if we call this hike a night I’m kinda hoping to get some sleep, that’s kinda why I wanted to come here to catch up on that more than anything…” Danny admitted the last part a little quieter as he put Cujo back down.

The councillor nodded dumbly, moving back away from the teen and the ghost dog, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to bolt when Danny picked up a stick and threw it for Cujo to fetch.

“Awe man I think I stepped in Fen-turd’s dog’s invisible crap!” Dash complained as they all started moving back, Cujo yipping as he came back with the stick giving a snort at Dash before loyally following alongside Danny and phasing through trees as they walked.

Seeing this, Tom decided that it would be best if he hurried back to the cabins to get them ready for the new campers. Yes, That’s exactly what he’s doing…

“Dude you can’t seriously be thinking of keeping Cujo around here he’ll destroy the camp,” Tucker muttered to Danny watching the little pup chase its tail as he followed them.

“Eh, It’s not really fair to keep him in the thermos for the week. Besides I’m sure I can use this guy to get you that extra helping of bacon you wanted.” Danny bribed his friend.

Tucker’s eyes light up and he grins brightly “Cujo here boy! Come see the T-man!”

Danny rolled his eyes, but so long as that was the only ghost they encountered out here, he might actually have a decent week of sleep ahead of him.

He can only hope.

Besides, using Cujo as a threat to Dash sounded like as good a plan as any, and if the councillors were too scared to go near the ghost dog that they would let him sleep in, all the better for him.

Danny smirked, perhaps camp wouldn’t be so bad after all~

-.-.-.-.-.-

Complete Total:  2363

[ayellowcurtain]

It would be great for Robbe to tell Sander how it made him feel by ignoring him for two weeks, and Sander could tell him how it affected him not talking to Robbe too, a nice twist would be that Adi actually encouraged Sander to talk to him. Robbe, and he advised her to find him when they got home.

part 3

They finally manage to get out of bed after a long time but just because Sander is starving, having not eaten anything all day. While Robbe scans the pantry in search for some quick snacks before they can decide what they’ll order for dinner later, Sander grabs all his dirty clothes to put to wash with the load of Robbe’s that is already inside the washing machine.

For a few hours they forgot about the conversation they started earlier, much more concerned about kissing for hours, pulling each other closer, as close as possible, trying to compensate for the two weeks apart.

Robbe bites the inside of his cheek when Sander comes back empty handed, sitting on the counter while he waits for Robbe, “It probably sucks if your best friend hates your boyfriend…”

Sander sighs, clearly not feeling like dealing with this again, “You are my best friend, he’ll have to settle with his place,” Robbe opens his mouth, but decides to keep his thoughts to himself for now, “He doesn’t have to like you. I love you and that’s all that matters. And if he has a problem with that, then he’ll have a problem with me.”

Robbe gets closer, standing in between his legs, gently massaging Sander’s thighs, looking anywhere but at his face.

“But it’s not that easy. I’m sure he’s not happy with how much time we spend together...”

“We’re not always together, Robbe. Fuck, and I can’t pretend I don’t love spending my time with you just to please him or anyone. It’s not a problem if I got lucky and got the best friend and boyfriend, all in one person.”

“Why did you leave then?” Robbe asks quickly, almost over Sander’s words.

Sander sighs, closing his eyes, leaning down to rest his forehead against Robbe’s.

“Because I know I can be too much. Too loud, too forward. Too much. And I know that’s not how you do things. I know I suck people’s energy out of them with my chaos.” Sander takes a deep breath in, exhaling slowly through his mouth, “So I decided for the both of us to give us a break from each other, to see if we were not having to mold ourselves too much to be together.”

“And your conclusion...?” Robbe asks in a whisper, upset that this is the path Sander’s brain can take him sometimes.

“I don’t think we are. We’re better together, we’re still ourselves without each other, with our friends.” Sander nods his head and Robbe follows, walking back to get them some water and soda inside the fridge.

“I wish you could have told me that. When you decided we needed time apart. You could have told me what you needed, I wouldn’t lock you inside my house and forbid you to go anywhere.”

Sander laughs, and Robbe smiles at him, closing the fridge with his foot, putting the cans and bottles right next to Sander on the white counter. Sander slips back to the floor, grabbing all they need for a quiet night locked inside Robbe’s bedroom, taking everything and putting on his bed while Robbe makes sure the windows are closed and all the lights are off.

They meet in the hallway, just the dim light of the bedside lamp and the tv inside his bedroom framing both of them with hints of yellow and blue.

“I thought you were sick of me already, that I had done or said something wrong. I waited for an explanation, but you’re just telling me now, after two weeks of silence.” 

“Hey, look at me. I’m sorry. I’m not the best at thinking before acting sometimes.” Sander pulls Robbe closer by his green sweater, “We’re good together, the best even. We can talk about everything, anything and we’ll enjoy it, it’ll be the best time in our lives. And we can also kiss, cuddle...fuck like nobody else in this world, in any universe.”

Robbe sighs, putting his forehead against Sander’s shoulder, holding his hand quietly, still feeling every touch like it’s the first after the longest they’ve chosen to be apart. Everything feels new, and too familiar at the same time.

“Stop worrying about Adi. He’s not the easiest person ever, and he’s just doing what he likes to do: annoy people. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you, about us and that won’t make me stop being friends with him. I don’t have to pick between you two, my relationship with you and with him are completely different. You didn’t steal his place, what you have of me was always made to be yours. So stop worrying about it. I can handle Adi, and that’s why he keeps pushing my nerves, because he knows when I’m over his bullshit, he’ll be the first one to know”

Robbe lets himself smile as wide as he wants to, looking up at his boyfriend, a little too proud to hear what he always knew, covering Sander’s mouth with his hand so he doesn’t have to look at that cocky smile while he tries to speak.

“You are not too much. Don’t say that ever again. I love everything about you, every inch, every idea, every hobby or random idea late at night. I love everything about you. If you say you can handle me and Adi not able to be friends, then I believe you.”

Sander lifts his eyebrows, holding Robbe by his wrist, slowly pushing his hand down.

“I can definitely handle you. And your sexy pictures.”

Robbe had forgotten about that, erased any trace of those pictures from his memory, and phone, pretending it never happened.

“You weren’t answering me. I got desperate.”

“You’re so sexy, Robin.” Robbe snorts because he’s so well aware of how not sexy he is. And sometimes he’ll try so he knows how bad it is.

“Leaving me on read after that was really fucked up, you know?”

“Oh! So sorry I was busy doing something, not able to use my hands to reply to you...”

“You were?” Robbe asks, bitting his bottom lip, feeling all the blood and heat from his whole body sits on his cheeks and on the back of his neck.

Sander presses his lips together, trying not to laugh and Robbe feels like and idiot, pushing him back.

“I couldn’t! Robbe! We were sharing a room, and Adi has the worst sleeping schedule. I tried to wait for him to sleep already, but I ended up falling asleep first.” Sander pulls him closer again, kissing his cheek a few times, his eyes still looking at Robbe, “But I liked the photo, yes. I’m sorry I was being an ass and not replying. I just...”

“Needed time to make sure we are still two different human beings, that we’re not slowly merging into one.” Robbe sighs, smiling softly when Sander bends his knees a little, grabbing Robbe’s ass, picking him up from the floor.

“Sometimes we are...” He lifts his eyebrows, taking Robbe back to his bedroom.

[honeymoonjin]

A/N: part of the Roll Deep series. Banner created by @jeonau, go show her some love xx In a desperate bid to cure your troubles in the bedroom, you and your boyfriend Jimin reach out to a famous dom on twitter that specialises in helping couples spice up their boring sex lives, Jay94. Warnings for sexually explicit content: threesome, exhibitionism/voyeurism, pet names, sub!Jimin, sub!reader, dom!Hoseok, being filmed w consent, double penetration, protected sex, unprotected sex (only one of them wears a condom), fingering, maybe a hint of cuckholding.  Word count: 5.9k

--

“You have the forms?” Jimin hands them to the young man enthusiastically. “Alright, age verification, STI tests, hard limits… This all seems in order. Give me a sec to go over these and I’ll be right back.”

The moment he leaves the hotel suite to sneak into the adjoined bathroom, Jimin jumps on you with all the eagerness of an overexcited puppy. “This is it, jagiya! It’s finally happening, can you believe it?”

You bite your lip, trying to steady your racing heart. “Not really… Jimin, when you suggested a threesome, this really wasn’t what I was expecting.” The truth was, you weren’t all that surprised when Jimin had come to you one night and proposed inviting another person in to bed with you. The two of you had always been complete matches for each other since the moment you met, but it seemed that chemistry had never really extended into the bedroom. The two of you barely bothered with sex anymore since it was just never good for either of you, and you had felt that frustrated tension rising in both of you for the past few months. “Honestly, I thought you were gonna ask if one of your friends could join in, not some random guy off the internet.”

Jimin’s eyes widen in protest. “It’s not some random guy, it’s Jay94! He’s one of the most popular nsfw profiles on twitter. Trust me, this is way better than any of my friends. He’s an expert. A sexpert.”

As nervous as you are, you can’t help the reluctant smile that breaks across your face. “You’re such an idiot.”

“You love me.”

You shake your head at his cheeky grin with a laugh. “If this goes downhill, it’s your-”

“Alrighty!” You jump a little when the door to the bathroom opens again and the man steps back in with an easygoing beam on his face. “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” You pout as Jimin pushes you over a little to leave room beside him for the man to sit down, the three of you lined up on the edge of the firm mattress. “First of all, just so you both feel a little more comfortable, my name isn’t Jay, it’s Hoseok, but please try to avoid calling my real name out in bed. If you do slip up, I can censor it out, but it disrupts the audio, so either use Jay or a title like sir or daddy.”

Before you can hold it back, you let out a snort at the way he’s speaking so casually about things. Jimin widens his eyes and whacks you, but Hoseok just shrugs, unbothered.

“I know it sounds weird now, but a huge part of what I do is to make sure all my companions are 100% comfortable and aware before we start filming. This isn’t a sex dungeon; you can laugh and joke around and ask questions as much as you want.”

You shift slightly on the bed. “Well, then… Jimin’s seen like all of your videos, bought some full ones and everything, he’s a big fan-”

“Y/n!”

“-but I don’t really know so much what’s going on. What do you, uh, normally do?”

Once Jimin collapses back onto the bed, covering his cheeks as they burn bright red, you can see past him to Hoseok, who gives you a reassuring smile. “Well, I don’t know how much your boyfriend has told you, but I specialize in providing help to those that have difficulties in performing sexually. Think of it like hands-on training, in the literal sense. I normally work with subs-”

“Subtitles?” you question curiously.

His eyebrows lift in bewilderment. “Submissives. Wow, he really hasn’t told you a thing, has he?”

Your eyes slide to Jimin as he sits up, leaning back on his elbows so that you can still see Hoseok. “To be fair,” Jimin protests petulantly, “I did tell her she could check out your profile at any time. She just chose not to.”

You’re ready to defend yourself, but instead of looking offended, Hoseok just grins even wider, eyes running down your body and back up again. Your cheeks heat up as he chuckles. “Well, then, she’ll be extra fun to play with.” The lust in his eyes vanishes as he snaps back into professional mode, and the duality has you feeling a little whiplashed. “Most of the time the people I film with are fans like young Jimin here, so they already have some awareness and preconceived expectations. Which on the whole is a positive thing, but I’m definitely going to enjoy the chance to introduce someone completely new into it.”

“See, jagiya,” Jimin interjects, “I told you this would be fine! All we need is a push in the right direction and our sex life will be fantastic after this!”

Hoseok laughs at your boyfriend’s eagerness, and the sound is carefree and high-toned. As irrational as it may be, you’re already finding yourself comfortable in his presence, even in this very odd context. “Alright, Jimin, let’s start with you first since you know what you’re doing. What do you believe your strengths are in bed?” Automatically, Jimin’s face turns to you for confirmation, and Hoseok tuts. “I’ll ask her to leave the room if I have to, Jimin. This is your question to answer. No rights and wrongs, just learning curves.”

You fight the urge to smile fondly at the rosy flush on Jimin’s cheeks as he looks down at the mattress, gone shy. “Um… I guess I’m good at trying new things? Uh, I’m a good kisser. I don’t know. I don’t think I have any strengths, really. I have the motivation and want to be better, but I just don’t know what to do.”

Instead of passing any comment, Hoseok simply nods solemnly and turns to you. “Do you have anything to add about his strengths, Y/n?”

You try and ignore the way him saying your name makes you warm up inside. “I agree with Jimin, he’s an amazing kisser. And he has a fantastic ass, the best I’ve ever seen.”

“That’s just because you haven’t watched 128B. His ass was better than mine.”

You crinkle your brow in confusion, but Hoseok apparently understands Jimin’s statement. “Ah, 128B was a fun time. He was a sports coach, though, not so good with taking instructions and listening to me.” His voice lowers to a honeyed drawl. “You’ll behave well for me, won’t you, Jimin?”

Jimin’s face goes blank and his eyes glaze over. He nods.

Satisfied, Hoseok lights up again and shifts out of that persona. “Anyways, that’s that, let’s move on. Y/n, your strengths.”

You swallow hard when the attention shifts back to you. “I can take risks; I can follow instructions. I’m eager to please. I think… I think I’m good at giving handjobs and blowjobs.” Jimin nods vigorously with a cheery beam. “Okay, yeah. I think that’s it.”

“Alrighty then,” Hoseok nods, “we won’t waste time with those, then.” Jimin’s face falls. “Jimin, what are Y/n’s strengths in bed?”

He pouts, slumping on the bed. “Handjobs and blowjobs,” he mumbles pettily.

Hoseok laughs heartily, clapping him on the shoulder. “You two can do as much of that at home as you wish, but this here is for working on everything but your strengths. Now, I think I might see our problem here. The two of you both seem to be naturally submissive, which might make things awkward in bed, as neither of you will automatically jump into a position of leadership. We’ll work on that.”

Spiel done, Hoseok stands up and starts checking out the cameras, stationed strategically around the room. Your heart begins to race. God, this was really happening. “Do we-” you cough a little to break the nervous lilt to your voice, “do we wear masks? I don’t want to be recognized…”

Without looking up, Hoseok quirks his head in the direction of the closet, in front of which is a large, splayed-open suitcase with a terrifying selection of sex toys, some you couldn’t even guess the use for. “Top zipper pocket has masks, you can choose. Cute ones, full-face ones, comfortable ones. Go wild.”

You make your way over on shaky legs. Pulling a general handful out, you hold them up to your boyfriend, who smiles cheerily and picks out a soft fuzzy pink one, a solid band with two slots for his eyes. You chuck it over to him, then choose a simple black one, not unlike a sleep mask, only with those same eye-holes cut out.

“Now, then,” Hoseok announces, now crouched on the floor, fiddling with a camera tripod, raising it higher, “the fun part. Kinks. Since the two of you don’t seem like overly experienced people, I think today can be about exploration and discovery.” When he straightens up, he goes over to the suitcase and opens a different pocket, putting out a mask rather similar to yours, but a glossy black latex rather than the cheaper fabric of yours. He puts it on and adjusts the straps as he continues talking. “Y/n, since you might not know, it’s important I tell you how important communication is. We’ll be doing new things, challenging you, pushing limits. I want you to go along with it as best you can, but the moment things get too much for you, or if something just isn’t arousing to you, please let me know. Similarly, be sure to tell me when something does feel good, or if you want more. Feel free to use the traffic light system. Green means go, yellow means slow down or pull back a little, and red will stop our proceedings immediately. This goes for you too, Jimin, of course. You both understand?” The two of you nod obediently, but Hoseok shakes his head. “Verbal consent. You both understand?”

“Yes,” you say, though it comes out husky like a whisper. Jimin speaks his agreement too.

“Alrighty, masks on, please. We’ll start rolling.”

In a hurry, you slip your mask over your head, adjusting your hair so that it doesn’t stick up, though you don’t imagine it’ll stay neat for long. Jimin follows suit, but takes it one step further by beginning to slip off his shoes and socks.

Hoseok turns back from switching on all of the cameras, and chuckles. “My my, someone’s eager. First things first, you know what you can call me, but I’m assuming you don’t want your real names being used.”

Your eyes widen. Fuck, you hadn’t even thought about that. “No, definitely not.”

“That’s okay, do either of you have a preference for a pet name?”

Jimin lightens up. “Oh, uh, I like being called baby boy. If that’s okay.”

Jimin had brought this up with the two of you before, and although you obliged, you always felt a little silly calling him that when you had automatically viewed him as the more dominant person in your relationship in general. Hoseok, however, clearly doesn’t have that prejudice, as he prowls over to Jimin, who still sits on the edge of the bed with his legs dangling over the edge and pushes himself between Jimin’s knees.

You’re taken aback, and more than a little turned on, by how predatory Hoseok looks right now, as he brushes Jimin’s hair back from his face and tips his head up. Jimin looks in heaven, letting his eyelids slide closed and his mouth part.

“Hm, is my baby boy gonna be good for me tonight?” Jimin exhales shakily and nods as much as he can in Hoseok’s grip. The elder smiles, and bends down to pull Jimin into a deep kiss. Your hips shift against the mattress at the erotic sight of another man claiming your boyfriend with lips, teeth and tongue. Even though it’s not happening to you, by the time Hoseok pulls away, breaking a strand of saliva with his tongue, you feel your heat thumping furiously in your chest. Jimin’s already-full lips are even more swollen and his eyes are lidded as he blinks in a daze. You want that for yourself.

Luckily, it looks like you’re going to get it, as Hoseok sets his sights on you and leaves Jimin’s side to stand in front of you. The black latex clings to his face, stopping just along his cheekbones, and it makes his eyes seem even more domineering. You swallow.

“No preference?” he asks. You shake your head wordlessly, but he just smiles and grabs your chin gently but firmly, turning your head up to face him. You feel your pulse throbbing in your neck, and you can barely breathe. You hadn’t felt this excited in the bedroom in a long time, and you hadn’t even gotten started yet. “Eyes on me,” he commands, “let’s let your body speak for itself, hm? Are you gonna be my baby girl? My princess? My whore? My kitten?” Without realizing, you suck in a breath through your nose, and a broad grin stretches across his face. “Interesting. I bet my little kitten wants a kiss like her boyfriend got, doesn’t she?”

You lick your dry lips. “Yes, please.”

“Good girl.” And then his lips are pressing against yours, and you feel like you’re being devoured whole, drunk on the sensation of his fingers tightening on your chin as his tongue explores every inch of your wet cavern. The nerves about being filmed go away under the drag of his teeth against your bottom lip, and you’re filled with a shameless need. You wanted this man to take every part of you, not just your mouth.

Too soon, he’s pulling away from you, letting you go. You sway slightly, feeling unanchored without his hands on you. You sneak a glance at Jimin, who’s biting hard on his lip, palming at the front of his jeans, where you can see he’s rock hard, straining against the stiff fabric. Jimin sees you staring and gives you a baleful look from under his eyelashes.

Hoseok, ever observant, notices this. “Do you want your clothes off, baby boy? Looks like you’re having a hard time.”

Jimin pouts and glances down, rubbing himself again. “Hurts,” he complains simply.

“Undress for me, then,” Hoseok commands. “Stand up in front of us and undress.”

Us? The moment Jimin hops up off the bed, Hoseok takes his place and sidles up behind you, tugging you back so that you rest on his chest, his legs on either side of you. You gasp at the way he moves your body for you, pulling it around as he pleases. His arms snake around under yours and rest on your thighs. Your ass is right against his crotch, and you can feel how hard he is.

Jimin pauses and stares in surprise. Standing awkwardly in front of you in his bare feet, he tugs at his shirt uncertainly.

Hoseok’s behind you, so you can’t see his expression, but it’s enough to make Jimin’s eyes go wide and glassy. His voice is stern. “Did I stutter? Undress. Slowly.”

You frown in concern, mouthing, ‘are you okay?’ to your boyfriend, but he nods lightly, grabbing the edges of his shirt and slowly slipping it over his head, revealing the unblemished skin beneath. His fingers slip down, passing over the little happy trail below his belly button to reach for his jeans.

Your breath catches when you feel fingers dancing around your throat, brushing your hair aside and tipping your head over slightly. Instead of his fingers, or his lips like you were expecting, the sensitive skin is greeted with a broad swipe of his tongue, and you let out an unbidden whimper, causing Jimin to freeze and Hoseok to chuckle throatily in your ear.

“Lesson one, anticipation and surprise. You know how you can’t tickle yourself because you know it’s coming? That’s the exact same for sex. Things feel better when you increase anticipation and change expectations. If I had just sat our kitten down and licked her, she probably would’ve cringed away and found it gross. But because I put her on edge, it felt good.” Hoseok’s teacher voice drops away to something darker. “Did I say to stop, baby boy?”

Jimin gasps and hurriedly unbuttons his jeans, before remembering to go slow, and gingerly slides them down his legs, hopping on one foot to get each pant leg off from around his ankles. Now only in his underwear, you can see that his straining erection has managed to slip out of the waistband of his underwear, the head peeking out the top of the elastic, smearing a pearly clear fluid on the solid plane of his lower stomach. You feel your mouth water at the sight.

“All the way,” Hoseok specifies, and Jimin takes a deep breath for slipping his underwear off, exposing himself fully to the two of you. “Now turn around and show me that ass my kitten loves so much.” Jimin blushes furiously, but turns around, crossing his arms over his chest for comfort. You and Hoseok both shamelessly drink in the sight. “Fuck, baby,” Hoseok groans, “she was right. That is the best ass I’ve ever seen. Come here, on the bed.”

Jimin’s cheeks are still pink when he turns back around and climbs on the bed, cock bobbing in the air, but his eyes are bright with the praise he received, and you can see that when he crawls further up the mattress, he sticks his ass out more than strictly necessary.

Hoseok taps your side, guiding you to move forward, so you assume it’s your turn to undress, but the moment your hands find the hem of your shirt, Hoseok stops you.

“Not yet,” he chastises, “I want you to undress me.”

You swallow hard as he gets off the bed, standing in front of you. You go for his shirt first, brushing the backs of your knuckles over his skin as you lift the black fabric off, tossing it in the same general pile that Jimin left his clothes in, before turning your attention to his jeans. You feel the weight of his stare on you as your hands hover shakily over his crotch, popping the button open. After unzipping them and sliding them off him, Hoseok kicking his shoes and socks away at the same time, the only item that remains is his underwear.

But just as you go to reach for them, you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten,” Hoseok says in a low voice, “not with your hands.” The pressure on your shoulder increases, and you let yourself be pushed onto your knees.

Face to face with the sizeable tent in Hoseok’s briefs, you glance up at him one last time before getting closer, using your teeth to grab onto the elastic just on top of his hipbone, and dragging it down.

The whole affair takes longer than you were expecting, and you feel yourself go hot in the face with humiliation at the ungraceful act, wiggling your face side to side to try and pull it over the curve of his ass, switching sides as one would get stuck, but his hand stayed on your shoulder the whole time, and something deep inside of you was lighting up at the chance to do as he asked, thriving on that feeling of subservience.

Once you’re done, you sit back up on your knees, and reel back when his cock stands proudly to attention right in front of your face. He’s bigger than Jimin, although quite a bit less girthy, and although you never thought you’d say it, his dick is actually… pretty. A single vein runs up the side, and now that you’re seeing it head-on, you notice it curves slightly to the left, the head just beside his belly button instead of in line with it. You glance up at him with a question on your face.

He grins and runs his fingers through your hair, gathering it at the back. Your breath picks up in anticipation, but that’s shattered when instead of guiding you onto him, he’s tipping your head away. “What did I say? We’re not spending time on our strengths. Besides, you haven’t done anything to deserve this cock in your mouth. You haven’t even bothered undressing like the rest of us.” Your cheeks burn in indignation, but he just laughs at you, jiggling your head back and forth a little condescendingly before releasing his grip on your locks. “Come on, kitty-kitty, clothes off. No dilly-dallying this time, we haven’t got all day.”

He gets on the bed, not even watching you as he joins Jimin, who looks to be growing more impatient by the second. You stand up and pout as Hoseok throws a leg over Jimin’s lap and presses him down into the covers, reconnecting their mouths together to wetly make out with one another. Feeling forgotten, you rip your clothes off, eager to join in the action again, but once you hop up on the bed, fully naked, both men ignore you.

You sit back and cross your legs, awkwardly scratching at your arm, feeling horny and left out. You can hear the smack of lips, panted groans, and the guttural praises that fall from Hoseok’s lips, and here you are, untouched and unattended to. You awkwardly clear your throat, but the only reaction is Hoseok wrapping an arm around Jimin’s back and sitting them both up, leaving some room between them for his free hand to slip between and play at Jimin’s nipples, teasingly flicking and rubbing at the sensitive skin, swallowing up your boyfriend’s whines.

The noises are arousing, but you’re starting to get a little sick of it, of Hoseok drawing noises out of your boyfriend that you had never even heard before. “Jay,” you call, loudly enough that he can’t ignore you.

Hoseok grins against Jimin’s lips and doesn’t make any move to pull away as he replies, so that the sound is a little muffled. “Want some attention, kitten?”

You frown. “Yes.”

“Then take it.”

Cameras all but forgotten, and etiquette thrown aside, you huff and move up to them, pushing Hoseok away so that he falls back and bounces against the mattress. With one possessive move, you straddle Jimin and push him back down again, kissing him more deeply, more greedily than Hoseok did, reaching a hand up to bury in his hair and tug at the roots perhaps more harshly than you normally would have. Jimin reacts immediately, cock twitching under you as he keens.

“That’s it,” Hoseok praises with a voice thick with amusement, “that’s exactly what our baby boy needs. Someone to take control. Does it feel good, kitten? To take what’s yours?”

You pull back and sit up with a hand on Jimin’s chest, panting slightly. Your boyfriend looks up at you, blinking with wide eyes surrounded by fuzzy pink fabric, lips slick with spit. His pupils are totally blown out, and he licks his lips in wonder. “Yeah. It does.”

“Then that’s lesson two. It can feel good to take control once in a while, and power dynamics are fluid. You can be on your knees begging for cock one second, then making your baby boy writhe beneath you the next.”

You catch your breath and twist around to face him. He’s sitting up, one hand propping himself up, the other resting calmly on his inner thigh, though by the deep flush of his cock, you’re sure he’s just as desperate for friction as the two of you are. His mask is still perfectly in place, disguising the top half of his face, but the smug expression he wears is clear as day. “What’s lesson three then?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Lesson three is testing limits.” His eyes dart down to where you’re still straddling Jimin’s thighs, spread out over him. “Do you think you could fit both of us at once?”

Reflexively, you shake your head quickly. “No way.”

Hoseok’s grin is catlike. “Should we try?”

You bite your lip, remembering the color system he had introduced. If it was too much, you could just call out yellow and he’d pull back. Hesitantly, you nod once. He tilts his head. Verbal consent. “Yes. I want to try.”

“That’s my good girl. Boyfriend gets first pick; baby boy, which hole do you want?”

Jimin, still flat on his back, pushes himself up to rest on his elbows. His eyes slide around the room: his cock, your pussy waiting just behind it, Hoseok’s cock, Hoseok’s face. He stays there, clearing his throat. “I, uh, maybe… maybe we could both go in her, you know…?”

You turn back around to Hoseok, who looks disappointed. Your heart sinks even as you feel yourself growing wetter at the thought. You hate him looking displeased. “That’s a great idea, baby boy, but how can you expect to fuck your girl right if you can’t even bring yourself to say the right words? Kitten, come here.”

You get off Jimin and crawl obediently over to Hoseok, who immediately grabs your hips and pulls you down against him, your back against his chest. With one hand pinning your arms and chest down, he slips his legs under yours, hooks your ankles with his, and then spreads them, pulling you with him so that you’re wide open and bare to Jimin, who pouts and pushes his hips against the mattress in search of friction.

“This, my dear baby boy, is a pussy.” With his free hand, Hoseok reaches down and slaps it lightly, making you jump in your grasp. His fingers slip over too, too wet to get any real friction, and you tip your head back over Hoseok’s shoulder when he buries two fingers deep inside you, holding them there. “I want you to repeat after me: I love my girlfriend’s pussy.”

Hoseok suddenly begins thrusting his fingers into you at a pace that has your toes curling. Instinctively, your thighs tense as they try to pull in around his hand, but his legs hold you open for him, and you’re helpless to do anything but take the brutal onslaught of pleasure he’s giving you.

Jimin sputters. “I- I love my girlfriend’s… pussy.”

“I want to fuck my girlfriend’s pussy.”

You whimper and shake on top of Hoseok as he pins you down and fucks you on his fingers. You hear Jimin swear under his breath. “I want to fuck my girlfriend’s pussy!”

“Good!” You gasp when Hoseok suddenly removes his fingers from you and pulls them up to his mouth, sucking on them like a lollipop, getting every last drop of you. You groan and go limp, feeling empty. “Then come fuck it.”

Normally, when you and Jimin had sex, he would painstakingly get you ready finger by finger, and when he finally took you, he would do it so slowly for fear of hurting you that you would reach a hand down to rub at your clit while he wasn’t looking, just to make sure you stayed wet. Now, however, he doesn’t waste time with any of that. Maybe it’s the safety net of those safewords, maybe it was Hoseok riling him up, maybe he was just too horny to think, but the moment he gets to you, using Hoseok’s thick thighs to keep himself steady, he lines himself up and pushes into you with one harsh thrust, snapping his hips with a grace you had only ever seen from him when he danced.

You cry out and clutch at the tops of his hands; the only things you can reach with Hoseok still locking your arms to your sides in his embrace. It’s a strange feeling, having one man holding you tight and another man fucking you, but your nerves are on fire with the feeling of being surrounded by them, every single one of your senses drunk on the two of them. That thick smell of sex, Hoseok’s proud chuckle in your ear, the way Jimin ground against your pubic bone with every thrust, hitting the underside of your clit and causing you to clench helplessly around him.

“Ji- fuck!” you cry, holding back from crying out his name like you desperately want to. Instead, you babble nonsense about how good it feels, eyes scrunched shut to fully drown in sensation.

“Stop,” Hoseok commands, but Jimin’s out of his mind, chasing that high, and he continues to pummel recklessly into you. “Stop or I won’t let you cum at all.”

Jimin growls, a guttural sound you’ve never heard from him before. “Fuck!” he complains, giving one desperate thrust before stilling inside you. You pant and go lax against Hoseok, feeling the wave of pleasure fade away.

“Don’t give me that attitude,” Hoseok scolds in a stern tone, “you were the one who wanted to share her pussy with me. Now, lie back and take my kitten with you.”

You whimper when Hoseok slips his legs and arm away from you, and you fall forward limply, crashing onto Jimin’s chest as he lies flat on his back. The move has him shifting inside you, and you grind your hips against him to feel something again, only to stop and jump when a firm hand lays a slap against your ass. Jimin groans as you clench automatically around him.

Out of seemingly nowhere, Hoseok produces a foil packet and rips it open, pumping himself a few times before slipping it on as he chastises you. “Wait your turn, kitten, don’t get greedy on me. You’ll have more than you can handle soon enough.”

You bite your lip and lower yourself fully onto Jimin’s chest so that you can arch your ass up to present to Hoseok. Although you had never even considered being taken by two men at once, you found yourself almost drooling at the thought of both of them inside you. “Please,” you beg pathetically.

Hoseok chuckles, and you feel his finger pressing into you, a tight fit around Jimin’s cock. “Patience,” he chastises, increasing to two fingers.

It’s torture, waiting for him to stretch you out enough. You know it’s necessary, but god, you just want him in you already. Finally, after he can comfortably scissor three fingers beside Jimin, he removes them and you feel the bed shift as he gets into place, cock brushing against your inner thigh.

He lines you up with one hand on his cock and the other splayed out on your ass, and begins to press in. The fit is snug, and you’ve never felt this split open before, but it has you open-mouthed, drooling on Jimin’s chest, unable to hold back the low moans that fall out of you with every inch.

“Color?” Hoseok checks in, and after you confirm it’s green, he rubs your ass comfortingly. “Having fun?”

“So good,” you groan, clutching at the sheets on either side of Jimin, feeling the muscles in your thighs tremble. “Fuck, so good.”

“How are you holding up, baby boy?”

Jimin has his eyebrows knitted and his eyes tightly shut. He nods stiffly. “Mhm. Good. Really good.”

Hoseok laughs breathily as he finally bottoms out. “Hm, I don’t think our baby boy is going to last very long. We better get a move on then.” And with that, he slides partly out and rocks back up into you. You cry out and pant against Jimin’s chest as Hoseok begins to fuck you, his front pressing against the curve of your ass with every thrust.

It’s too much. You can’t close your mouth or even think, but at the same time it’s not quite enough. You gargle in an attempt to make words, pushing a shaky hand down further to reach for your clit, hoping that one of them would get the message, and luckily your Jimin opens his eyes at the feeling of your hand pressed between you and reaches down to thumb at your clit.

You had told him once that many women couldn’t orgasm without clitoral stimulation and although he may have been inexperienced in other areas, he never forgot to provide that stimulation for you no matter what you were doing. You babble out a thank you, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching, more powerful and deep than it’s ever been before. “Close,” you manage to make out through moans.

Hoseok grunts in affirmation. “You gonna cum for us, kitten? Look, our baby boy is about to.”

You open your eyes blearily and glance up at Jimin, who’s started rubbing at your clit in a frenzy as he whines desperately, arching underneath you. You lower your head back down to suck at his nipple, dragging your teeth over, and he cums with a shout, spilling inside you.

You can feel cum running out of you as Hoseok continues to fuck you, and in the back of your pleasure-addled mind you wish he wasn’t wearing a condom so that he could fill you up too, and the thought of two men’s cum dripping out of your abused pussy propels you over the edge, and you begin to convulse under the overwhelming sensations hitting you like a strong wave.

Hoseok thrusts once, twice, three more times before he presses himself flush against you and groans, scratching your ass slightly as his fingers curl.

The three of you stay in a pile, all panting heavily, for about ten minutes. Your legs have gone numb yet strangely tingly, and they have no energy in them. Hoseok pulls out of you first, but extremely slowly, trying to let your pussy adjust to the empty space he leaves behind. When Hoseok lifts your hips up and Jimin falls out, you whimper at the strange sensation of your walls not closing in fully, still stretched wide open by the two cocks you had inside you.

As Hoseok quickly leaves to dispose of the used condom, you roll limply to the side, and Jimin’s hand finds yours, intertwining your fingers and holding on tightly. You turn your head to face him and smile dopily. “Thank you for talking me into this, baby.”

Even after the vigorous sex he had just had, Jimin’s eyes are bright and he beams warmly at you, squeezing your hand. “Thank you for saying yes. I can’t wait to take you home and fuck you again. Fuck that beautiful pussy of yours.”

Your cheeks flush, but you chuckle. “Oh, so now you’re a sexpert, huh? My beautiful pussy probably needs a day or two to recover, Jiminie.” Your face falls. “Oh fuck, the camer-”

“I’ve switched them off,” Hoseok assures you calmly as he walks back in the room. “You were both too fucked-out to notice. I hope you enjoyed yourselves.”

You let out a contented sigh. “God, yes. That was amazing. I wish I could do that again.”

Hoseok shrugs. “I’ve had plenty of people come back for a second-”

“Uh-uh,” Jimin protests, sidling up to you possessively. “I appreciate your help, Hoseok-hyung, but now that I know how to fuck her right, I can guarantee she’ll be too tired to come back again. She’s my kitten.”

[notthatiwilleverwriteit]

I'll be waiting [come find me]

”You got a girl waiting for ya or what?”

Guan Shan flinched and looked up from his phone. The old man sitting on a creaky crate grinned at him knowingly over the dirty stub of his cigarette. Feeling like he had been caught, Guan Shan hurried to shove the phone in his pocket.

“Just my ma,” he said and drew a deep drag of his cigarette.

The man’s grin deepened revealing a row of teeth stained shades of yellow by years of smoking. There was a black gap where one of the teeth was missing. Years ago, the man had lost it in a fight with a cocky guy in a black suit and shining shoes who had thought he could squeeze a few easy bucks off the old man. In the end, he was short of one tooth, but the guy hadn’t shown his face since. A story he loved to tell anyone sitting down at the bar for long enough.

“Could’ve fooled me. Made me think you’ve got a sweetheart waiting for ya the way ya keep checking that damn thing.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Nothin’ wrong if ya had. A young guy like you should live a little.”

Guan Shan huffed.

“I’m too busy working my ass raw for you.”

The old man chuckled, but it deepened into a coughing fit that doubled him over and brought tears in his bulging eyes. Guan Shan took a hesitant half step towards where the man was sitting but he was waved off almost crankily. The man managed to draw in a rattling breath, snorted, and spat out something yellow and slimy aiming where the cracked pavement met the concrete base of the bar and a line of green was stubbornly pushing through.

“Damn it,” the man said, catching his breath and wrapping his faded winter jacket tighter around his shoulders. “’tis damn weather. Doing me like this.”

It was late autumn, and the evenings had grown colder. Earlier in the morning, Guan Shan's boots had stepped on a frozen puddle and the thin ice had cracked satisfyingly. The dawn had smelled like the first snow.

“I’m sure smoking isn’t helping.”

The man glared at Guan Shan with his dark piercing eyes. The only lively sparks in his weather-beaten, lined face.

“Don’t ya start, too, boy. I get enough o’ that from the old hag at home.”

“Maybe she’s right.”

“’Course she’s right!” the man raised his voice and caught another coughing fit.

This time Guan Shan wasn’t shooed away. He gave the man’s back a couple of hefty whacks silently grimacing at the way he could almost feel the brittle bones creak under his palm. The second fit was more stubborn to subside and left the man leaning on Guan Shan’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’s this,“ he wheezed, “damn weather.”

The phone vibrated a couple of times in Guan Shan's pocket. His hand jerked to reach for it but halted when he glanced at the man recovering from hacking up a lung. The man caught his hesitation and straightened himself the best he could.

“Go on, kid,” he said. “Don’t keep ‘er waiting.”

Guan Shan frowned down at the man. He didn’t like the ashy look on his face, but the phone was burning in his pocket.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

The man stubbed out his cigarette on the pavement and tossed it in the already overflowing ashtray made out of an old relish can. With some difficulty, he levered himself on his feet and clasped Guan Shan’s shoulder almost painfully.

“Bright ‘n early,” he said and flashed the yellowish grin before waving his goodnights.

Guan Shan’s eyes followed the uneven sway of the man’s shoulders caused by his left knee dipping under the weight on every other step until the man disappeared through the backdoor. Apparently, he had hurt his leg while locked in a game of mahjong against a local boss. Like all the old man’s stories, Guan Shan had heard this tale countless times, too. But how playing mahjong and hurting his knee were connected had always remained a mystery to him.

As the beat-up backdoor clanked shut, Guan Shan dug out his phone. His eyes darted on the screen to catch the preview of the received message. It truly was from his mother. She was asking if Guan Shan was free next Sunday for dinner. Pretending like his shoulders hadn’t sagged in disappointment, he tapped a reply and shoved the phone back in his pocket. The cold wind picked up between the buildings. Guan Shan hunched his shoulders against the chill and strode briskly out of the alleyway to the main street. 

It had been almost six months by now. Five months and twenty-three days, to be exact since he had last heard from He Tian.

Who’s keeping who waiting, Guan Shan thought to himself bitterly.

It wasn’t that he was worried – because he wasn’t – but this was the longest He Tian hadn’t contacted him. Not so much as a peep which was a stark contrast to how the guy didn’t seem to have anything else to do than filling Guan Shan’s inbox. Every morning, without fail, he was woken up by a “good morning, little Mo~”. At lunch and dinner, he received pictures of He Tian’s meals. The rest of his day was constantly interrupted by idle, random commentary. At nights, just as he was about to fall asleep, his phone chimed with a “sleep well, little Mo”. For every ten messages he got from He Tian, Guan Shan replied to maybe one or two.

Apparently redheads aren't actually going extinct ε-(´ ・｀ )  ﾌ  But you’re still the only one for me, little Mo~

Five months, twenty-three days, and counting since that nonsense.

Almost six months of jumping every time his phone chimed. Dragging his feet after late-night shifts, smoking a cigarette after another with the old man huddled in the alleyway. Paying more for electricity by leaving the dim light on above the front door for nights.

He wasn’t waiting for He Tian to show up. But, just in case.

The uneasiness that had nestled and grown in the pit of Guan Shan’s stomach wasn't worrying but irritation. He was pissed off. If He Tian had finally decided to leave him alone, good. But the bastard could at least tell him if he wasn’t going to keep bugging Guan Shan anymore. And maybe let him know he was still breathing. In his mind, he was owed at least that much.

The next time the bastard contacts me, Guan Shan seethed and stomped around the last corner before reaching home, I’m gonna tell him to – 

His mental rant was cut off by a pair of black shoes sticking out to the hallway. For a moment, it looked like two legs were sprouting from the concrete approximately where Guan Shan’s front door was. His steps slowed down as he inched towards his apartment. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had passed out in the hallway, but you never knew if they were just drunk or on something else, too.

Guan Shan took a careful peek. With a huff, he closed his eyes when he caught the first glimpse of the stranger’s face.

Speak of the devil.

Sitting on the dirty concrete floor in an expensive-looking suit and slumped against Guan Shan’s front door was He Tian sound asleep. His head was drooping against his chest, and a bottle-shaped brown paper bag loosely dangling from his right hand. 

For a moment, Guan Shan just looked down at the oblivious He Tian. The longer he listened to the drunken breathing, the harder it became to contain himself. All the feelings he had tried his best to ignore and shove down for months suddenly surfaced all at once. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists.

For five months and twenty-fucking-three days, Guan Shan had waited like a sap.

For the phone to ring. For the old man to come to the kitchen saying someone was asking for Guan Shan at the bar. For a knock at the door in the middle of the night. Something. Anything. While lying awake at night and staring at the dark ceiling, he would have welcomed any sign of life. The guy had made him feel and act like a fool, and now he had the nerve of showing up pissed drunk.

How fucking dare he.

Guan Shan kicked the sole of He Tian’s shoes a couple of times. Hard. The deep breathing hitched, and He Tian’s heavy head twitched.

“Oi, you fucking drunkard,” Guan Shan growled and deliver another kick.

Slowly He Tian raised his head and his droopy eyes squinted groggily at the direction of Guan Shan’s voice. When he finally recognized Guan Shan towering over himself, He Tian’s dull drunken face twisted into an ugly lopsided grin. Without proper coordination of his limbs, he tried to straighten himself up but failed miserably. After a couple of tries, he settled for lifting the paper bag at Guan Shan, and whatever liquor was left sloshed in the bottle.

“Honey, I’m home~,” He Tian slurred.

“No, I’m home. And I’m too tired for your bullshit. Go sleep it off somewhere else.”

“Aww, little Mo, don’t – “

He Tian frowned and closed his eyes, swallowed and took a couple of deep breaths.

“I think I’m gonna – “

He Tian burped. His left hand shot to press tightly against his mouth, but it was too late. His middle cramped, and bile-colored liquid spurted through the squeeze of his palm. The vomit gushed out and stained He Tian’s face and clothes.

“Fucking hell,” Guan Shan said angrily and kneeled in front of He Tian.

He snatched the paper bag, pulled the bottle out (whiskey), and trying not to touch the puke-covered He Tian he handed the empty bag for him.

“Here, use this.”

A bit confused, He Tian looked at the crumbled bag before taking it. But instead of placing it over his mouth, he wiped his face with it and held it out for Guan Shan.

“Thanks.”

“No, you idiot – “

One look at He Tian’s glassy eyes struggling to focus on Guan Shan’s face made it clear further explanations would be an utter waste of time and energy. Both of which Guan Shan was running short. He looked at He Tian in his sorry state and shook his head.

“I can’t fucking believe you’re doing this to me. I’m about done with your bullshit.”

He Tian closed his eyes and swallowed. For a fleeting moment, Guan Shan braced for another spray of vomit and was ready to leap backward.

“Bullshit,” He Tian mumbled instead. “Is all bullshit. Bull~shit.”

No doubt finding himself hilarious, he chuckled a little.

“Bull~shit. Bhull~shhiit.”

Guan Shan sighed and looked around the hallway. Great. Just fucking great. It seemed he was either facing cleaning He Tian’s mess or trusting he had enough alcohol in his bloodstream to keep him warm through the night. Why were these always the choices in his life?

“Oi,” he said and slapped He Tian’s cheek before he could fall asleep again. “Can you stand up?”

He Tian’s eyes fluttered up, and he managed a smile of sorts. His hand reached out trying to cup Guan Shan’s face.

“For you, little Mo, I can do anything.”

Rolling his eyes, Guan Shan grabbed the hand and roughly yanked the slumped He Tian forward.

“How about showing up like a normal person for once?”

Guan Shan wrapped He Tian’s arm behind his neck and hooked a tight hold under his armpit. He gave a tentative tug, and the heavy body raised a couple of inches. He Tian grimaced at the strain on his shoulder.

“Ow.”

The bastard had the nerve to pout.

“Get a hold of yourself, for fuck’s sake,” Guan Shan snapped. “Or else I’m gonna leave your ass here.”

It took a couple of tries and very little help from He Tian, but Guan Shan managed to haul him on his feet. Sort of. He was more leaning heavily on Guan Shan than walking on his own, but at least he was more vertical than ten minutes ago.

“Little Mo,” He Tian mumbled and reached to sloppily kiss Guan Shan’s face. “My little Mo."

The pungent smell of vomit hit Guan Shan’s senses and he tried to put as much distance as possible between his nose and He Tian’s mouth. Unfortunately, in their position, he didn’t have a lot of wiggle room.

“C’mon," he grunted under the weight, "use your legs.”

He Tian seemed to have perked up a little and made at least valiant effort trying to make sense of his own limbs. Guan Shan secured his hold on He Tian’s weight the best he could and started lugging him towards the bed that loomed what seemed like miles away. For once, he hoped his room was smaller. At least dragging drunken bastards would have been easier. That’s the only thing he seemed to be good for anyway.

Accompanied by grunts and curses, they made their awkward tandem waddle across the room. With the last drops of his strength, Guan Shan flopped He Tian on the bed a bit roughly and he bounced on the mattress.

“Fuck, you’re heavy.”

Guan Shan tried to catch his breath and kneaded his lower back that had somehow seized up from the strain. He made a mental note of making He Tian pay if he couldn’t work tomorrow. Or the day after that. Pay for the old man, too. Maybe give them both a much-deserved day-off or two.

Already relishing the idea of sleeping in tomorrow and perhaps having some meat for dinner on the bastard’s credit card, Guan Shan didn’t notice He Tian pushing himself to sit up on the bed. Not until a pair of arms wrapped around his middle. He Tian buried his face in Guan Shan's shirt and rubbed against his stomach.

"My little Mo," he said, his voice muffled.

Guan Shan looked down at the top of He Tian's head not quite knowing what to do. He had made it so far without being covered in someone else’s vomit only to be soiled the last minute.

He gave a couple of halfhearted pushes to untangle himself but yielded soon after. Too tired to even get angry anymore, he allowed He Tian to hug his stomach. To steady his balance, Guan Shan put a hand on top of He Tian’s head and let his fingers get lost in the raven locks. The squeeze around his middle tightened.

For a while, all that could be heard in the little storage room were the occasional wet hitches in breathing and the rustling of stroking hair. No words were uttered. Talking would have only made it too real. Broken the spell that allowed both of them to pretend. Pretend that the front of Guan Shan’s shirt wasn’t getting wet and that he wasn’t cradling He Tian’s head just a little tighter.

Even if just for a moment, they needed this.

The End.

AO3 | Buy me ☕

[stars-in-my-universe]

I Hope-Tyler Seguin One Shot

Notes: I decided to do another one shot. I hope you guys enjoy. It’s based off the song I hope by Gabby Barrett. Let me know what you guys think, feedback is appreciated.

Part 2

Present

You hadn’t seen him for months, not since the break up so you weren’t surprised when you showed up to your guy’s mutual friend’s wedding and there he was, the best man. Tyler stood next to the groom smiling and laughing at something one of the groomsmen said, what didn’t surprise you either was the cute little blonde he had his arm wrapped around. You knew her, you knew who she was very well. She was part of the reason you two weren’t together anymore, she was the other woman you had spent months denying existed. She was the cute little blonde that was blowing up his phone after his hockey games, she was the woman he had cheated with for months before you decided to call off your two year relationship and 8 month engagement. 

Past

“I’m glad you decided to come with us today. I know the boys enjoyed your company.”  You looked in Tyler’s back seat and smiled seeing all three labs panting and happily looking up at you. Shaking your head you looked back out the window. This was the fourth time you two had hung out and every time you left you told yourself you guys were just friends. 

“I’m also really glad you came today, I really wanted to see you before I left for the road trip.” You felt the butterflies in your tummy as he reached over and laced his fingers with yours, you also couldn’t help the stupid smile that made it’s way onto your face as your stared straight ahead. Friends usually didn’t give each other butterflies. You two sat in silence for a bit until the radio started playing a country song making Tyler obnoxiously sing to you all the way back to his house, your sides hurting from laughing to much and your cheeks from smiling all day. 

Present

You stood at the open bar, the wedding already done and everyone at the reception. You ignored Tyler’s gaze and would walk away any time him and his date would get close. It was bad enough your best friends were getting married and you had made your best friend switch up who you were going to be walking down the aisle with, instead of Tyler it was the groom’s brother. 

 It may have been petty but you weren’t ready to face the person who made you feel like you weren’t good enough. You chugged your champagne and placed the glass down, it was about your fourth one. You could see the two from across the room talking to a couple of friends, she was gorgeous, her blonde hair in a pretty mermaid braid and her eyes a bright blue whereas your midnight black hair was laid out in pretty beach waves and your green eyes were probably a bit red from crying and stress.

“Believe me he already got an ear full from both of us for bringing her here.” Your best friend sighed. She was still in her wedding dress and had a full glass of champagne in her hand. You nodded.

“But he’s still here.”

“Y/n he’s Brett’s best friend.” You sighed, you knew she was right, you were just hurt and angry. You shook your head.

“It’s not about us tonight, it’s about you two.” You looked over at her and sent her a smile, whether she could tell if it was fake or not, she didn’t say anything.

Past

Tyler had decided on an end of the summer barbecue was the perfect way for the season to start and the perfect way to celebrate your one year anniversary. You didn’t argue, you were just happy to be around all your guys friends and having a last ‘hoorah’ before the boys got serious for the season.

“Here you go, babe” You took the beer from Tyler’s hand and squealed when he squeezed your hips.

“You having a good time?” You nodded looking up at him. He was a little buzzed, a light flush on his cheeks and his hair was curly from being in the pool. 

“I would have a better time if you weren’t wearing those bright ass yellow shorts.” You let out a laugh as he pouted.

“See seggy, we’re not the only one who hates those shorts.” You laughed as Jamie Benn sent you a wink. Picking on Tyler was you’re guys’s favorite past time.

“You guys suck, you’re lucky I love you.” 

“That last part better have been toward Y/n Seggs,” Tyler shook his head letting out a laugh into your shoulder.

“It’s true, I do love you.” You smiled and took a drink of of your beer.

“I know, I love you too Tyler.” He leaned in for a kiss, which you happily returned ignoring his teammates cat calls and howls.

Present

You really needed to stop showing up to these parties your friends tended to throw considering ever since the wedding Tyler and his girlfriend tended to be at every single one of them. Taking a shot from your friend you downed the tequila and shook your head. Opening your eyes you could see the happy couple across the kitchen, only difference this time Tyler looked mad. His tattooed arms were crossed in front of him, his snapback on his head and the blonde standing in front of him on the verge of tears, trying to get him to listen to her.

“Word on the street is she was seen with another guy last night and decided to show up here acting like nothing was wrong between the two.” You nodded at your friend’s words. Karma could be a bitch sometimes. You watched as he walked away shaking his head leaving her on the verge of tears in the middle of the kitchen. 

It wasn’t any of your business, you were still mending a broken heart, none of that drama was yours anymore. You grabbed a red cup from the counter and added some coke and tequila and walked to the backyard. The majority of people were in the pool or inside, not many were on the patio. Leaning on the small island outside you watched the people who were 75 percent intoxicated try not to drown in the pool making you giggle to yourself.

“I haven’t heard you giggle in a long time.” Your whole body froze and you could feel your stomach do a flip. You had done so well avoiding him, the wedding, random parties why would tonight be any different? You downed your drink and tossed the cup to the side.

“What do you want Tyler?” You could hear him sigh from behind you. You knew if you turned around to face him you’d feel everything come back and you weren’t in your right mind to be dealing with it. You may have ended it with him, he may have broken  your heart and cheated on you, but you were still getting over him.

“Are we ever going to talk about-” You could feel the anger rise up in you.

“Talk about what Tyler? How you cheated on me for months after we got engaged? How you lied to me? How you bought her to the wedding thinking it was going to be all peaches and cream?” You were drunk but now you were standing right in front of him, your heels making you a little taller than normal so he wasn’t as intimidating.

“Y/n you never let me explain.” You rolled your eyes.

“The thing is Tyler every time I’ve confronted you you’ve never said ‘no I didn’t cheat on you’ and that’s why I don’t want to listen to your bullshit excuses. Now run along before she comes looking for you again, us talking will change nothing.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else, you didn’t have to because at the end of the night when you were requesting your uber, you could see the two making out against his car.

Past

“I thought you said you’d never get married?” You shrugged at your best friend. It’s true, growing up you didn’t believe much in marriage. You didn’t think it was necessary. But as you stood in your house that you and Tyler shared, staring down at the engagement ring on your finger everything in you screamed that it was the right answer. 

“I fell hard for him and he asked me and everything just felt right.” 

“I’ll tell you something though, he spent a pretty penny on that ring, it’s huge.” You let out a laugh and stuck your hand out so you guys could admire it.

“What’s going on over here, what are we looking at?” Tyler wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

“Nice rock, who gave it to you?” You shrugged turning around in his arms. 

“Some douche hockey player…” He shook his head.

“Well I don’t see him around, you think he’ll care if I…” He leaned in for a kiss making you giggle and pull him a bit closer.

“Y/n, what were you going to do about school, weren’t you going to go in california.” The two of you pulled away to re join the conversation.

“Yeah, but there are schools in Dallas that I was looking into too, we could make it work out here.” Every one had told you it was a bad idea, changing schools for your relationship but you ignored them, you were happy and in love and you knew as long as you and Tyler were together it would  be okay.

Present

“Congrats to Tyler and Mckayla!” Everyone raised their glasses to toast to the new engaged couple, even you. As much as it stung as much as you wanted to leave and walk out and never see the two again you stayed, you stayed and when you caught tyler’s eye during the toast you raised your glass toward him and chugged the drink. No one knew they were going to drop this bomb today, no one expected it. You had your friends coming up to you and apologizing. You brushed them off saying it was fine, even though you could feel your heart breaking all over again. Which is why as soon as the toast was over you pushed through the crowd and headed to your car.

 You stood outside for a second leaning against your car door not really feeling like any of this was real. You tried to get your breathing under control but all you could feel were the hot tears rolling down your face. You sniffled and wiped your face with your jacket sleeve before reaching into your pocket and opening the car door.

“Y/n, wait.” You huffed out an annoyed sound.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone? It’s bad enough we have the same friends, why can’t you just stay away from me!” You turned to look at him, his hands tucked into his hoodie and his head down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think she was going to announce it tonight. She took everyone by surprise.” 

“What do you want Tyler?” He sighed and looked up meeting your glare.

“I really am sorry Y/n. I’m sorry I hurt you, I’m sorry I cheated. I’m sorry for all of it, but you have to know it was real all of it was real.” You huffed out a bitter laugh,

“Not real enough though, Tyler.” He didn’t say anything.

“I uprooted my life for you, Ty. I did everything I could to keep us happy, I  was faithful. Between the late nights and the long road trips I took care of the dogs, the house, I made sure you were happy, I made sure we were happy.” Once again silence, you wanted to just go home and forget this ever happened. 

“Why wasn’t I good enough Tyler?” You could hear your voice shake, you were a minute away  from having a break down.

“It wasn’t you, Y/n. It wasn’t you at all. I just- I don’t know somewhere I just i slipped up and I fucked up. I didn’t deserve you from the beginning and maybe that was my problem, I figured it would be easier to let you down if I just became the guy the world expected me to be.” You nodded.

“And you know that’s bullshit, I wasn’t enough for you, you’re just too much of a coward to admit it to my face, so you took the easy way out. You got your cake and you ate it too, and now you’re going to marry the cute blonde and have the wedding your mom always wanted to be invited to and your dogs can be in your wedding party and you’ll have it all with her all because you decided to be unfaithful…”

It was word vomit now, you couldn’t stop.The tears were falling, your make up was running and there Tyler stood in front of you, speechless.

“Just answer me one more thing, are you happy Tyler? With Mckayla?” You braced yourself for the answer.

“I...yeah I am.” You closed your eyes and sighed, you knew the answer but some small part of you wished he’d say no. You opened your eyes and sent him a sad smile which he didn’t return. He looked conflicted. You could feel the sadness sit in and the anger disappear. . 

“Then that’s all that matters Tyler.” Looking back at the house where you could still hear the party going, you realized this was it. 

“ I hope she makes you laugh, I hope she takes the dogs on the morning walks with you, I hope she supports you and the stars even if she doesn’t understand hockey at all.” You let out a sad laugh wiping your eyes a bit. You didn’t care how you looked at this point, he needed to know.

“I hope she treats your mom and your sisters with so much kindness and appreciates all the cooking and baking they do for the holidays. I hope you give her the wedding of her dreams and I really do hope your dogs are apart of it and I hope she’s everything you want and need.” You walked closer to him, your heels the only sound between the two of you.

“I hope you two have a great wedding-” You choked back a sob and shook your head , reaching out for his hand and holding it in yours, you looked down at them intertwined.

“I hope you love her with everything in you Tyler, and I hope she never does what you did to me. I hope she never cheats and breaks your heart, because Tyler this isn’t something you bounce back from when you give your whole heart to someone. And as angry as I am with you, I wish you the best because this is the last time you’ll probably see me.” You heard him sniffle making you sadly smile. Bringing his hand up to your mouth, you placed a gentle kiss on his knuckles and closed your eyes. Patting his wrist you let go of his hand and  looked up at him, his eyes were watery and he was staring right at you, he was giving you the look, the look you never wanted to be the reason for.

“I’ll always have love for you Tyler, but I have to go.” You unlocked your car door and turned to look at him, he hadn’t said a word nor had he moved.. You sent him a last nod before getting into your car.

“I hope you have a good life, Goodbye, Ty.”

[vinylhazza]

23 & 39 with E* — I think i sent the wrong number ignore my first ask

that’s okay babe

23. “It’s called Netflix and chill, we’re not supposed to just watch Netflix.”

39. “You look so good like this.”

when ethan asked you to come over and keep him company while grayson was out for the night, you all but jumped at the chance to be alone with the one man that gets your heart thumping out of your chest by a mere thought or mention. 

yeah you were best friends. yeah you flirt every chance you get. yeah you think he flirts back just as much. yeah there is serious sexual tension that has just about pushed you over the edge many, many times. yeah hanging around him watching movies and snuggling together like you always do will probably bring that feeling to your stomach again - the one where your heart crashes down and you’re left breathless and yearning his lips more and more. but would you ever act on it? probably not.

easy on the eyes was an understatement when it came to ethan. in fact it was almost the wrong phrase considering it’s just about impossible to look at him, it’s overwhelming and has a pool forming in your panties embarrassingly fast. you just prayed each and every time he got close that he couldn’t feel your squirming and desperate need to grind against his muscular thigh. 

but he wasn’t an idiot. he had been fucking obsessed with you since the day he walked into that ridiculously small, hole in the wall café he’d never been to before. grayson had, once again, dragged him in for a “new experience” and that is exactly what he got when he looked up from his phone at the counter to place his order and saw your face. speechless. which is what he is every time you walk into the room. he wasn’t an idiot. he could tell when your leg started to hook over his own during a random conversation on the couch, or when you reached a hand around to play with the hairs at the nape of his neck while you read your book, or when you stole his favorite sweatshirt because it always smelt the most like him and you loved to snuggle him and this was as close as you could get without him actually having to snuggle, or when your tone changed while switching conversations between another person and his - it turns soft like wet clay, absolutely dripping with hidden emotion. he wasn’t an idiot and he knew you weren’t either. 

so it was either make a move or stay silent. but he would keep it cool until he had a green light. he hoped he wouldn’t be stuck on yellow forever. but he was sure going to keep trying until he sealed the deal or you told him to fuck off and stop. those were the only two options for him. 

so he got together some snacks while he waited for you to show up at the house, every food that he knows you like was scattered across the wooden coffee table haphazardly. he sat back on the couch, bouncing his leg and scrolling through his phone to calm down the nerves. he’s known you for a year but for some reason every time he sees you it feels like the very first time - hence the nerves soaring through every muscle in his body because you would be pulling up any minute and he would see your name with a heart pop up in his notifications telling him to “open the door bitch” which was always what got him smiling. he loved the playful banter way too much to be healthy.

nights alone with you were always his favorite. he loved hanging out with both you and gray as well, but this gave him a way to look at you as much as he wanted without grayson catching him and teasing him endlessly until the next time he’s caught. it was torture. because he wanted to just grab your face and show you what he could give you, what he had to offer, what you were missing. but he was a scared bitch and you were out of his league. but tonight was finally his chance and he wasn’t going to waste it because of fear. you had been acting a bit sad lately and he wasn't sure what was really going on, but he thought maybe time alone and a little bit of affection would get you out of it and bring that gorgeous smile back on your face. that’s what kept him from saying fuck it and shutting Netflix off before you got there. 

when he did get that playfully bitchy text, his nerves are shooting through the roof, but that doesn’t stop the smile that spreads across his face wide and filled with glee that his favorite girl was here for a snuggle and a little romcom session. 

once again his heart fluttered when he swung the door wide so you could walk past in an old, ripped black cudi T-shirt of his you always liked the wear and shorts that hugged your ass in the most perfect of ways. your hair flowed around you while you sauntered past him swaying your hips just enough to have him swallowing hard to keep himself in check.

“so what’s the plan hm?” you questioned as you flopped down onto the couch, your bag being set on the chair in the corner, phone resting on the table in front of you. 

“I thought maybe we could just chill out and watch some Netflix if you're up for it...” ethan takes a seat next to you, close enough to brush shoulders, pulling the blanket from the basket under the coffee table - flinging it over the two of you and picking up the remote to flip through several different titles. 

“sure that sounds great e - oh my fuck you got watermelon suckers?!” you’re squealing when you see your favorite candy sitting in a bag on the table, grasping one and ripping the rapper off to take one big lick of the sweet tasting treat. ethan is just about choking on his own words watching you suck the soul out of that damn sucker, just absolutely going to town while he clicks on a romantic comedy you’d mentioned wanting to watch with him. he doesn’t give a fuck about the movie at this point. he continues to watch you suck on the sucker and watch the movie intently, scooting closer and slipping yourself up to sit snug on his lap, resting your head on his shoulder and shutting you eyes. 

his smell is intoxicating, soft but masculine and sexy. you love being this close to him and feeling his arms swing around to hold you tight, almost like it’s natural. when his hand reaches to absentmindedly play with the edge of your shorts while a particularly rough sex scene plays on the screen, you’re all but squirming in this lap. you’re not sure if he knows he’s affecting you but he needs to put his hands to work or you’re going to have to excuse yourself and go to the bathroom and take care of your situation. 

you glance up at your best friend, his eyes glued to the screen intensely while the couple on the screen kiss and moan, ripping at each others clothes in a hurry. you decide that it’s now or never. better to shoot your shot then never know. he could either shoot you down or not. 

“you know e...it’s called Netflix and chill, we’re not supposed to just watch Netflix,” there it is. there is the invitation. he can take it how he wants to.

his hands pauses on your warm, soft skin on the inside of your shorts, just below the waistband. he wasn’t expecting that at all. yeah he was hinting at something with his hands inside your shorts but he’s always touching you a little suggestively and you don't have a reaction. he thought this would be the same. but the tone in your voice tells him different. 

you tilts his head down to look at your eyes that gleam back at him mischievously, a smirk on your lips, hand rubbing the sucker over your lips. he bets if he kisses you right now they would taste just like watermelon. might even be a little sticky from the sugar and oh my fuck that tone in your voice has his dick growing even more in his pants. he suddenly feels like his pants are much too tight. 

“oh yeah?” he mutters, leaning in boldly and kissing a spot next to your jaw, “what do you suppose we do then?” 

“I don't know...” you’re suddenly very shy, not knowing what move to make from this point on, just tracing little figured on his chest over his sweater. 

but thankfully you don't have to. with hearing your small little voice and seeing those eyes tell him more than your words did, he’s spreading your legs over his lap so you’re sitting right on his cock beneath his pants. the pressure makes him take a deep breath before he looks back at you with a smirk. 

“I have a few ideas,” is all he says before he is pulling your face down and kissing you with so much force and meaning you’ve stopped breathing for a second. 

it’s fast and intense because neither of you can take the fucking tension anymore and you just need him inside you right now. 

“take this off,” you breathe between kisses, clutching his sweater and tugging. he nods in obedience, chuckling when his arm gets stuck in the right sleeve. soon you’re both laughing, cheeks red, unable to kiss from the smiles stretched across your faces. it's clumsy and messy but it’s irrevocably you and that’s all he could ask for. you’re finally smiling. 

“you look so good like this,” he’s blurting out through the laughter before he can stop himself, finally being able to tug off his sweater and throw it across the room. he pushes you down on your back against the couch, slipping your own shirt from your body as well to reveal your purple bra that’s cupping your boobs so well. he’s near drooling. 

“like what?” you gasp out through laughter, beaming up at him. 

“happy,” he goes on, still smiling, but you can tell through his voice he’s 100% serious. he’s your best friend and he’s never lied to you. so if he says something you know he means it. 

“wonder why that is,” you tease, but your wiggling underneath him let’s him know you are far to anxious and excited for the small talk, “what would make me even happier is if you fucked me now.” 

“I was getting there,” he laughs again, not taking a second longer until his lips are on your again and clothes scatter the floor in forgotten piles.

[szopenhauer]

What star sign is the last person you text messaged? Aries

How did you feel when you woke up today? not well

Do you know what the person you're dating is doing at this moment? napping

Who was the last person to make you cry with laughter? my gf

Who was the last person you talked about sex/love with? either her or my father

Who introduced you to the person you're in a relationshop with? my high school classmate K.K.

How many brothers does your father have? two

When was the last time you did something which you knew was wrong? I don’t know what’s wrong and what not, ugh...

Do you still speak to your first crush? nope

If you could get your own house with one friend, who would you pick? dad but I’d prefer to live alone

Which is worse, too-tight clothes or much too-loose clothes? too tight are worse

What is something that you are willing to fight for? hmm...

If you jump, can you touch the ceiling of the room you’re in? noooo

Which do you think is worse: ear aches or tooth aches? tooth aches

How many different colors are you wearing right now?  3 (4 counting panties)

You can only listen to one band for the rest of your life, who do you pick? omg I can’t choose :o

Do you like big or small cars better? big

What store do you get the majority of your shoes from? *shrug*

What place, in your mind, is heaven on earth? How about hell on earth? there’s no such thing as heaven on Earth to me as I would bring myself there and ruin everything but almost whole planet is hell mostly because of people

Do you think there is anything scary about midnight? midnight is the time of ghosts but no longer minute before and/or after :P 

Can you snap with both of your hands? yep

In your opinion what is the absolute worst house chore? laundry?

How young do you think is too young to get married? definitely under 20 but I think it’s best to get married 30+

Who do you think is the dumbest superhero?  I can’t believe Green lantern is an actual superhero...

Would you rather be a hair stylist or a clothes designer? clothes designer

Would you rather be 3 inches taller or shorter than you are now? taller

Are there any foods that you think smell good, but taste bad? possibly

Would you ever stay overnight at any of your neighbors houses? why would I? 

Do you think it would be cooler to play a hero or the villain in a movie? hero

If you had the last name of your favorite actor, what would your name be? I like many actors so...

how many syllables does your first name consist of?: 3

do you know someone who is allergic to chocolate?: used to know

have you worn a dress [casual, formal, etc] within the past week?: not within the past week

when was the last time you saw the last person you kissed?: days ago

is that person your significant other?: yup

last person you talked to on the phone and what was it about?: mom, I informed her she probably didn’t take out the matches from my pocket and now she’s washing my shorts with ‘em inside the machine and my instinct was right so she turned it off in the last moment, minutes or even seconds later water would soak the package and that could ruin the clothes, I wish she checked or asked while taking my stuff away

got any plans today?: been to laboratory, done shopping but am too tired to help my parents in carrying wood 

were you born in an odd or even numbered year?: even

did you drive anywhere at all today?: took the bus

which of your parents did you see last?: both at once

describe your current shirt: black tee Nie każdy musi mnie lubić w końcu nie każdy ma dobry gust with Lil My

are you currently listening to music?: I’m very picky about songs today

do you fill out your own surveys or do you think it’s just weird?: I do

where did you buy the shoes you last wore?: Biedronka (Tom & Rose)

last disappointment?: health issues 

do you still talk to the person you first kissed?: yeah

did you seriously believe that the opposite sex had cooties in elementary?: I didn’t think about that 

did you take a nap today?: I barely ever take naps in general

name something random in your car: I don’t own a car

would/did you cheat on someone for revenge or if they wouldn’t find out? neither

would you rather be remembered for something bad or forgotten? forgotten

would you date someone twice your age for money? only if I really had to survive and there was no other way but not forever?

rate your self-confidence, 1 being insecure, and 10 being cocky. I’m insecure but not sure how much 

are you content? I wish

would you knowingly be who someone cheats on someone else with? cheats with me on someone they pretend to love? hell no

would you sleep with a teacher to pass a class you were failing? ewww, yuk

have you ever contemplated physically hurting yourself or another? mhm

are you prejudice against any groups of people? I am

is there anything you chose to be ignorant about? (war, animal rights, etc) maybe

would you replace any family members if possible (& who)? oh well...

do you lie when asked how you’re doing? what for? to blame then for not noticing? to be an ass who’s lying?...

do you have any plans for tomorrow? meeting with M.

are you able to get a tan? not much

the next time you are on an airplane, where will you be traveling to? umm... no thx

are you satisfied with the picture on your id card? could be worse but also could be better

what are your chances of getting with your crush? I'm taken

what color is your car? no car!

is the song you’re currently listening to being sung by a male or female? two women

where did you get the shirt that you’re wearing? it was a gift

how tall is the last person you kissed? taller than me

is anybody in the room with you right now? not rn

how long have you been with your significant other, if you have one? 3 months

do you enjoy dried fruit? meh

How’s your day going? blergh

What does your umbrella look like? I borrow my parents’ umbrella, I hate umbrellas

Do you share a room with anyone? there are furniture with stuff inside that don’t belong to me

Do you have socks on? Describe them. grey

Are you one of those people who has like a hundred apps on their phone? I have spotify, choices, tumblr, tik tok, fb and messenger

Do you have good reflexes? I guess

Picture you think is cute.

Do you like blowing bubbles? sometimes

Are you better at posing good questions or coming up with outrageous dares? depends

Has there been a celebrity death that really affected you? I cried after some celebs but that’s all

If you’re out of high school, have you stayed in touch with your high school friends?  I haven’t :(

Do you think, if it came down to it, that you’d be able to kill someone? I believe I might

Are you good at rating things? am not

Do you get into a lot of arguments? :x

Can you pass for older than you are? can’t even pass for my real age lmfao

Do you talk a lot? at times

Are you capable of finishing a game of Monopoly? it’s not that hard

Do you own any tie-dye clothing? I hate tie-dye 

How much soda do you drink in a week? - Do you like being asked questions? love Are you nosy? slightly

How well can you pay attention to someone talking? depends What is the closest yellow thing to you? rosary Would you mind living on a farm? I’d try Are you a patient person? wouldn’t say so What annoys you the most about people? what doesn’t... Does your computer freeze a lot? my browser freezes right after turning on the computer and my internet dies often

Have you ever ate glue? wtf

When is the last time you took a picture? this day

If you could know one thing about the future, what would it be? when will I die for example

Do you like Ellen Degeneres? she’s awful

Are you comfortable dancing in public? whatever

Would you like to live to be 110 years old? I wanna die already

Do you like getting your picture taken? I’m ugly

Do you like being the X or the O when you play tic tac toe? X

What do you think is the most popular name for a girl? I checked:

Zofia Hanna Julia Zuzanna Alicja Maja Helena Maria Oliwia Pola

What about a boy?

Jan Franciszek Antoni Aleksander Stanisław Jakub Adam Leon Mikołaj Szymon

*do ya like any?

How many people are around you right now? my family’s in the kitchen eating so I’m alone

Do spicy foods give you heartburn or make you make you gassy? both and more

Is body hair attractive or unattractive to you? it’s normal/natural?

Do you prefer bare feet or socks? socks

Hard wood floor or carpet? hardwood

Would you ever want to work in a toy store? yasss

Do you like asking questions better or answering? answering

Do you follow your head or heart more? head

Would you rather give up your hand or your foot? foot

Have you ever tried crowd surfing? too risky and no fun

If you could have 16 wishes, tell me just one you wish: I don’t need 16, 3 are enough

Do you like the movie Bambi? If so, who is your favorite on there? I don’t remember Bambi 

Would you rather be on the computer all day or watch TV? computer

Would you rather be a police man or a firefighter? police

Do you like jokes or riddles better? jokes

Do you like onion rings? disgusting

Do you like odd or even numbers better? even are easier to count

Last song you heard? Marroon 5 - Animals

Ocean or lake? lake

Do you know a lot of people with the middle name Marie? weird but no, Anna is more popular

Do you like loud or quiet people better? smth in between unless in public - quiet strangers are better

Taking pictures or getting your picture taken? taking

Do you like chocolate? meh

Favorite day of the year? New year’s eve?

Favorite holiday? same

Crayons or markers? markers

Snookie or Vinny? Snookie

have you ever been to an animal shelter? that would break my heart

are you tired right now?

who is the worst actor or actress in your opinion? there are plenty  have you ever bought someone else lingerie? nope where are your parents right now? run around the house like crazy if you have a dog, does it bark a lot? luckily not, he howls rarely too have you ever seen a magic show? sure can you juggle? I tried to learn but failed

[fatestemptress]

Overwhelming Alternatives - Part 1 of 3

Summary: Jensen Ackles loves women.  The way they smell.  The way they taste.  The way their hips sway when they walk away from him, looking back with that knowing look in their eyes.  Hell, he can’t even look at one of his best friends, Y/N, without picturing her naked.

So can someone please explain to him why he’s fantasizing about his co-worker Jared Padalecki?

Created for @spnkinkbingo

Square Filled: Sexuality Crisis

Warnings: Smut. Lots and lots of smut.  Masturbation. Porn watching. MMF. 18+ only!

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Jared Padalecki; Eventually Jensen x Y/N X Jared

Word Count On this Chapter: 5,300 or so

A/N: Hiiiiii!  Its been sooo long and I have missed so many wonderful fics out there.  I am dying to catch up!  I’ve had this fic sitting in my drafts and it’s finally ready to post.  This will eventually be a threesome, so if that’s not your thing please be forewarned. The other two chapters of this will fill some of my other kink bingo squares.

Please note, this is unbeta’d.  Any and all grammatical errors are mine.  (And I’m sure there are PLENTY. :))

"Fuck Jen!  Hold still would ya'?!"

"I'm trying but your big sausage fingers keep pinching me!"

Jensen Ackles could practically hear the smirk coming from behind him as his co-star and best friend Jared Padalecki rubbed at the fake blood caught under the collar of his shirt behind his neck.  

And he desperately hoped one of his favorite people in the world couldn't feel the shudder of his body as his fingers dipped into the sensitive top part of his spine. The tingles quickly spread out into the wide set of his shoulders and down into his fingertips making them itch with the need to reach behind him and grab Jared by the hip and bring his full body against his back.

FUCK.

He needed to stop this nonsense.  He wasn't gay.  He didn't like guys.  In fact, he LOVED women.  The way they smelled.  They way they tasted.  They way they whined into his ear when he was balls deep with their ankles around his neck.

Annnnnnnd he needed to stop that freight train of thought as his already half hard dick started filling out into a full blown, humiliating, hard on, in front of the remaining crew on set.

"Allright, allright Jay.  The rest'll come out when I get in the shower back in my trailer.  I just didn't want it dripping down my back."

And damned if that didn't just bring unwanted (cause they were UNWANTED...right?) images of something alot more pleasant and alot more white dripping down his back........

Jared let out a high pitched laugh as he playfully massaged his fingers into Jensen's neck, "Wasn't it nice and warm though, Jen?"

With a deep clearing of his throat, side eye and a conspicuous adjustment of his jeans, Jensen reached for his jacket and slung it on, "I won't even dignify that with an answer.  So uh, I'll see you in a little while?  We still on for Madden?"

Jared flipped his hair out of his eyes as he also reached for his coat, seemingly oblivious to his friends discomfort,"Yeah, sure thing.  Gotta shower and then I'll meet you at your trailer in about an hour."

With a quick fist pound and a wave to the few people on set, Jensen and Jared parted ways as they made their way to their respective trailers.  It had been a long day with an early 4:00 AM call but production issues had them calling it quits at 5:00 PM.  

But despite the hectic schedule, two and a half seasons into the show "Supernatural", Jensen was still pumped to come to work everyday.  It definitely helped that everyone on set truly did get along and it was a blessing that he and his co-star had gotten so close, so fast.

What didn't help was the increasing drive to see Jared's cock that had somehow, someway meandered into his every waking moment.  A drive that he had never, not once, had from another man.  And he had been hit on pretty frequently over his career being an actor and having, what he'd been told, were the sweetest dick-sucking lips some of them had ever seen.

But regardless of all that, the only thing he had wanted to eat was a nice, wet pussy.  He loved that shit.  Savored it.  And never, not once, had he ever tried to replace it with a dick.

Until Jared.

Jensen sighed in frustration as he dressed in a pair of black sweats, sans underwear, and a white t-shirt, after his long, hot shower, where he had deliberately denied himself even a quick, rub and tug.

He wasn't gay dammit.  And he wasn't going to start giving into these dark emotions that had been slowly increasing over the past two and half years.  

Fucking Jared.

And his big shoulders.

And solid abs.

And his goofy hair.

And his fucking dimples.

And those ridiculous yellow-green eyes.....

.....that practically sparkled at him whenever he laughed at some sarcastic comment Jensen threw his way.

Fuck but he needed to get laid.  

And fast.  

It had been three long months since he last sunk his dick into a warm willing body and that had been from a one night stand at a random bar in Downtown Vancouver.  Despite the success of the show, they were still relatively unknown enough that it was easy to go out without getting bombarded by fans.  But both of them were still careful with who they took home.  

Crazy sometimes wore a pretty face and a hot body.

Just as Jensen had settled into his deep, fluffy couch with the remote in his hand, his phone rang and a sweet smile and sexy eyes looked up at him from the picture on his cell.  

With a smile of his own, Jensen picked up the phone, "Hey Gorgeous.  Whats doin'?"

"Hey, Ackles," Y/N chirped into his ear,  "What's cookin'?"

Y/N Y/L/N was the Production Coordinator on the show and sometimes Jensen thought her job was the hardest of them all, practically running the ship behind the scenes, managing all the Production Assistants and dealing with all the whining that comes with it.  Even though they had a good crew, people were still human and lord knows they needed someone to bitch to when they felt they weren't being appreciated.  But Y/N handled it all with grace and a firm hand.  She was respected by everyone on set and, if Jensen was being honest with himself, everyone, male and females included, were already half in love with her.  

Jensen was lucky to call her one of his closest friends......and if he sometimes pictured her naked, well, it was only natural.  She was beautiful, intelligent and sarcastic as hell and he was by no means a saint.

"Waitin' on Jared to finish conditioning his hair.  He's gonna come over and get his ass kicked in Madden."

Y/N let out a husky laugh in his ear and Jensen shifted as his dick twitched at the sexy sound.  Maybe he should have considered underwear.

"So another two hours then?"  She deadpanned.

"Nah.  I think deep conditioning was yesterday.  He should be here soon."

"Ha!  Okay,"  Y/N let out a slight sigh in his ear and it sounded almost melancholy.

"Hey, whats wrong?  You okay?"

"Yeah....I mean....yeah I'm fine.  It's just....I broke up with Chad."

Jensen's ears perked up at the name of Y/N's, now, ex-boyfriend, "Wow, I'm, uh, really sorry to hear that, Honey."

Y/N let out a snort, "No, you're fucking not.  I know you hated him.  You made it pretty clear every time you saw him."

With a chuckle, Jensen shrugged, "You're right.  I did fucking hate him.  He didn't deserve you. He was a jerk who was starting to become a possessive asshole.  And his name was Chad.  It's almost a pre-requisite that douche bags are named Chad.  But, uh, why did you finally see the light?"

There was silence on the other end for a a bit before she answered, "He, um, tried to tell me that I was getting too close to you and Jared and that I needed to stop being friends with you outside of work.  So I told him to fuck off and take a hike."

Jensen let out a snort of his own, "That's my girl,"  At the continued silence, he cleared his throat slightly,  "Are you okay?  I mean, listen, even though I hated the guy, I'm not the one who's gotta be with him.  You know I'll support you no matter what and I don't want to be the reason you're not with someone that you maybe....love-"

"Yeah, no.  There wasn't any love there,"  She quickly interrupted before heaving another sigh, "I was just....I dunno...lonely I guess?  The hours we work are brutal and he was,  you know, around.  Whatever, what's done is done and honestly no ones gonna tell me I cant hang with my two favorite pain in the asses."

Jensen didn't acknowledge the thrill that ran through him at her words.  He was just gonna ignore the hum of content that made him smile.  She was his friend, (hot, sexy, beautiful friend), "Do you wanna come over and hang with us?  Take your mind off of things?"

"Thanks.  I may take you up on that later on tonight.  I'll text you."

"I still got a bottle of Stoli Razz here from last time if you're interested in getting obliterated."  

"Ahhh, Ackles.  You always know just what I need.  Talk soon."

With a smile and a goodbye, Jensen ended the call.  Since he'd started talking to Y/N on a more personal level about a year ago, she had been with Jerk-off-Chad.  And despite his sexual attraction to her, he'd always kept her in his off limits category.  Even without her having a boyfriend, he didn't want to jeopardize what they had.  He respected her way too much for that.

So then why did he have a sudden vision of her on her back while he licked between her legs?

Fuuuuck he realllly needed to get laid.

First Jared and now Y/N.

Both people he loved and cared for deeply as friends.  And his perverted mind was making them into sexual conquests.

Maybe a quick rub and tug was just what the doctor ordered.

With a quick glance at the time, Jensen realized he still had a good twenty minutes before he could expect Jared to knock on his trailer door.  Plenty of time to relieve some of the ache his too full balls were giving him.

He quickly pulled his lap top over from its resting place on the side table next to his couch and brought up one of his favorite porn sites.  (Yes, he had favorites and if you asked him he'd tell you he had his go-to videos categorized and in corresponding folders.  Fuck anyone's opinion.  He was twenty-eight, almost twenty-nine with no steady girlfriend.  His hand rarely left his dick when he was alone.)  

In a rush, he picked a random video that looked good and pressed play before placing it back on the side table with the screen facing him.  A deep moan drifted from the speakers as he saw a girl kneeling in front of a huge dick before she swallowed it down in one gulp, lovingly rubbing the balls underneath.  Another loud moan drifted from the speakers.

Shit.  Way too loud.  No need to have one of the crew walk by his trailer and have a story to tell the others tomorrow morning.  

Quickly, Jensen reached over for his ear buds and plugged them in before setting his phone to vibrate and placing it next to him so he could feel it.  Jared would text before he came over.  He always did.

Reaching down, Jensen wrapped a hand over the slowly rising bulge in his sweatpants and bit his lip.  He caressed the head through his pants and was glad the pants were black.  Wet spots on the crotch of grey pants were never a good look.  

And the close ups of the chick's wet pussy and spit slicked swollen mouth were making his cock start doing a steady drip-drip.

He pulled his shirt up over the flat panes of his stomach before squeezing his cock and adjusting it so it lay underneath the band of his pants, the swollen head peaking out of the top as he brought his thumb around the wetness, coating it before letting out a moan of his own.  He liked to tease himself.  Draw it out a little bit before the end result.

"Fuck baby," Big-dick guy said on a gasp from his place on a brown couch, "Suck it.  Yeah...just like that."

The blue eyed blond on her knees let out a whine before releasing the cock with a pop, "So big," She said as she rapidly stroked him from root to tip, "I don't think I can suck this all by myself."  

"Mmmm,"  Big-dick hummed with a dirty grin, "Lucky for us we got some help."

Well,shit.  He had picked a threesome video without even knowing it.  Two chicks sucking on one dick?  Every. Guys. Fantasy.  Bring it on.

The camera panned back into the guys lap as the blonde licked up the side of his cock and a shaggy dark haired head bent down and took the guys balls into his mouth.

Well that was a shorter hair-cut than he was expecting on a chick....

The blonde reached down and grabbed the head of hair and brought the lips of the other person to hers, tongues dangling in the air, "Hey baby..." She said on a breath, before bringing the tip of the big dick to her partners mouth and tapping it against the pursed lips surrounded by a five o'clock shadow-

Wait.

What?

Five O'clock shadow?

And to his surprise and wide eyed gaze, he watched as the dude on screen sucked down the cock in front of him with a deep growl, his shaggy hair being moved out of the way by the blonde as she waited her turn.

And instead of his dick deflating into nothing, he let out a noise he would later deny to himself as he ripped his cock out of his sweats and started rapidly stroking his dick as the guy on screen let out slutty noises and tongued down the other dudes dick before sloppily kissing the blonde with the cock in between their lips.

"Fuck, I love this dick," The guy gasped, "Want it all the time."

The blonde giggled and the camera panned to where she was running her finger around his puckered hole, "You want it here baby?"

And as the guy on his knees let out a groan, threw his head back and made his dark hair flutter around his face, Jensen let out the slightest of squeaks as he pulled roughly on his rock hard cock and he felt the pull in his balls become an onslaught of come,"Fuuuuuuuck!"

Sticky white liquid shot out of his cock and onto his stomach as he quickly realized that the reason he came so hard and so long was cause the guy on the screen was a look alike of the guy currently standing with his mouth open at his doorway.

"Jared!"

Shit.

With another squeak, Jensen slammed the laptop shut, ripped his ear buds out and quickly stuffed himself back into his sweatpants before standing up on shaky legs.

Jared blinked at him wide eyed and pink cheeked as he closed his mouth and swallowed hard, closing the trailer door softly behind him, "Uhhhh, Dude, you ever, uh, consider locking your door, if you're gonna jerk the chicken?"

"Dude, you ever consider fucking calling first before you just come over?  Or maybe knocking on the fucking door?"

"I DID knock on the fucking door but you obviously had your dirty movie on too loud.  AND I TEXTED before I came, like I always do!"

Jensen gave him an incredulous look, "No. You didn't," He shot out as he grabbed up his phone from the couch, "I would have felt the.....oh,"  Jensen gave him a sheepish glance, "Looks like I put it on silent not vibrate."

Jared's lips twitched into what could have been a smile, "Uh huh,"  Jared casually pushed passed Jensen's stiff form and plopped himself on the abandoned couch.  He spread his arms across the back of it as he glanced up at Jensen through his lashes,  "Sooooo, if I hadn't gotten here when I did, would that have been the, uh, next thing you would have pulled out?"

Jensen's eyebrows drew together in confusion, as his humiliation continued to burn through him, "Pulled what out?"

Jared bit his bottom lip, obviously trying not to laugh out loud, "Never mind.  Man, its fine.  Stop looking at me like you wanna crawl into a hole.  We ALL fucking do it.  Hell, I jerked off twice in the shower before coming here."

Ignoring the pull of desire in his belly at Jared's words, Jensen groaned out loud and threw himself down onto the other end of the couch and rubbed his hands over his face, "So fucking embarrassing," He muttered into his fingers, refusing to look over at Jared.

A small squeaking sound, slid through the air and sounds of heavy breathing filled the awkward space.

"Yeah baby, just like that.  Fuck me with your fingers."

Jensen's head shot up as Jared let out a deep belly laugh and stared at Jensen's re-opened laptop at the kneeling guy on the screen getting his pink hole finger fucked by the blonde chick next to him as he sucked and licked the cock in front of him.

"DUUUUUDE, this is some kinky shit."

"What the fu-? Jay!  Why would you turn that back on?!"  Jensen threw himself over Jared's lap, ignoring the loud laughter falling out Jared's mouth and frantically pressed buttons until it stopped playing and slammed the laptop shut once again.  He whipped his head to the side and glared at the wide grin inches from his face, "You're an asshole, you know that?"

Jared winked at Jensen as he shifted his hips underneath him, poking Jensen in the stomach with something, "You're taking this way too seriously, Man."

Jensen looked down into the small space between him and Jay before slowly leaning back into his own spot on the couch.  He couldn't have felt what he thought he did....did he?

With a clearing of his throat, he swallowed and sat back as he ran his hands through his hair, "This is fucking embarrassing!"  He repeated.

Shrugging, Jared leaned his head into the back of the couch and rolled his head so it was next to Jensen's, "Soooooo, does this mean....I mean...are you...gay?"

Jensen's eyes widened in alarm as his heart started pounding frantically, "NO!  I'm not fucking gay, Jay!  Did you not see the chick in the movie?  I didn't realize until it was too late that the guy was going to be...involved like that."

Jared sent a sympathetic look at Jensen's panicked gaze, "You know Jen, it's okay if you are.  I'm not judging.  Like, at all-"

"Jesus, Jared!  I'm telling you I'm not-"

"-cause I've swung both ways before soooo.."

"-gay.....what?"

Jensen blinked stupidly at Jared's soft smile and felt like he might pass out from sheer terror mixed with immediate curiosity.

Jared sat up and placed his elbows on his knees before lacing his fingers together, "I'm...I mean I guess...you could call me...bisexual,"  He shrugged before running his fingers through his hair and Jensen could see a slight tremble despite Jared's calm tone.

"Have you...um...had...you know.."

Another dazzling smile was sent Jensen's way, "Have I ever fucked a guy before?"  At Jensen's nod, Jared shrugged, "Yep.  Both catcher and pitcher."

"Jesus."

"What?  You know if you cant talk about gay sex, you shouldn't be doing gay sex."  He said with a mock serious look.

"Yeah, yeah.  Well, I'm not.  Doing it.  I mean.  With guys.  And lately, not with girls either,"  Jensen ran a hand against the back of his neck, "Maybe that's the problem.  I'm backed up to the point where my brain is floating in sperm and stupidity."

Jared laughed again before placing a hand against the back of Jensen's neck and squeezing it, "Jen, again, not judging.  But, uh, coming that hard?  Usually signifies that shit is turning you on.  And then some."

Jensen gaped at Jared, "How fucking long were you standing there?"

"Long enough to wonder if you were gonna provide a cigarette after the show."

"Dude."

With another squeeze to his neck, Jared smirked, "What can I say, it was seriously hot."

Jensen's poor heart started pounding at an even faster clip, "You...you thought that was hot?"

Jared's smirk dropped and a look that Jensen had never seen before took it's place, "Come on, Man.  Have you seen yourself in the mirror?  Can you really blame me for thinking that way about you?"

Jensen swallowed.  Hard. "What....what way?"

Jared licked his bottom lip and bit it, "How curious are you about this?  I don't want to go down a road with you and you wake up the next morning and decide you cant work with me or you don't want to be friends.  I value our friendship, Man.  Truly.  It would kill me not to-."

"Yeah," Jensen interrupted with a soft smile, "It would kill me too."

With a smile of his own, Jared let go of Jensen's neck and sat back, "Sooo, you wanna finish watching the movie?"

Was it possible for stomachs to dip right outta your body?  Cause that's what was happening to Jensen's.

"I-uh, I mean, if you, uh, wanna, I mean..."

Taking pity on Jensen's stuttering, Jared reached under the side table and pulled out the bottle of Glenfiddich whiskey he knew was stored there, "Drink first?"

"Fuck yeah."

:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~~:~:~

The first two shots burned on the way down.  By the time they were both nursing the third drink, Jensen was feeling the edges of his anxiety start to float away and Jared was sitting closer to him on the couch.

They talked a little more about Jared and his previous male conquests.  ("They were pretty.  And hot.  I have a hard time saying no to pretty and hot.")

And they spoke of how he may not advertise his sexuality but he wasn't ashamed of it either. ("Pussy and dick both make me come.  Soooo, why not?")

By the time they reached the point where Jensen felt brave enough to let Jay turn on the laptop, he was sporting some chub thinking of his best friend in these compromising positions.  

And if Jay's gaze was any indication, it was very noticeable.  

Fucking sweatpants.  

Clearing his throat, Jared pressed play and placed it on the couch in between them.

"Suck that cock.  Fuck yeah.  So fucking hot."  The blonde said as she continued to finger fuck the dark haired guys ass before quickly adding a second finger.  The blonde slapped one of the guys ass cheeks with her free hand before using the same hand to separate them, "Look how pretty.  Can't wait for you to take that monster up in here.  Gonna make you eat my pussy while you take it."

Jensen's head was swimming as a deep pulse of lust shot into his stomach and straight to his dick.  His mind was quickly replacing the images on screen with him being the one sitting on the couch, running his hand through Jared's hair as he sucked his cock with major enthusiasm.

Fuck, could he really be this hard, this fast?

Sending a surreptitious glance toward Jared, Jensen took another sip of his drink and adjusted himself on the couch, trying to sit in such a way that his wood wasn't so obvious.

He was terribly unsuccessful.

Especially considering he had looked into Jared's lap and saw a massive boner laying against the side of his leg, plainly visible in the track pants he was wearing.

This time, Jensen had to bite his lip to keep in the moan that threatened to fly out of his throat.  

"You, uh,  you okay?"

Jensen's head shot up at Jared's deep baritone and he swallowed at the look of lust making Jared's eyes darken, "I, uh, maybe this wasn't such a good idea..."  He said as he placed his drink on the table next to him.

Jared looked down at the tent in Jensen's sweats, before raising an eyebrow, "You sure about that, Jen?"

At that moment, the dark haired guy on screen let out a loud moan and both of their heads swiveled back to the screen just in time to see him take Big-Dicks cock in his ass.  He swiveled his hip and pushed against Big-Dick before licking up the blondes thigh in front of him, plunging his tongue in her pussy.

"Fuck...." Jared let out before he reached down and squeezed his dick through his pants, "That's fucking hot."

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Watching Jared touch himself through his pants was gonna make Jensen blow his wad straight across the room.  The throbbing in his sweats was becoming unbearable and mixed with the whiskey in his system, he was ready to say fuck it and whip his dick out.

"Deeper.."  The guy on screen begged in between long licks to the blondes pussy, "Deeper, Man.  Yeah, just like that."

Big-Dick obliged and he adjusted himself to give the guy long, hard, deep strokes as his partner let out a groan and lay his head on the blondes thigh; his hard cock swinging between his legs with the pounding he was happily taking.

"You like that baby?" The blonde cooed as she ran her fingers through his hair, "Feels good right?"

"Oh my God," Jensen couldn't help but let out softly as he felt his dick dribble out pre-cum into his pants.

Jared looked up into Jensen's face and shuddered out a breath, "Dude, I'm so fucking horny right now that if I don't take out my dick, its gonna explode in my pants."

Jensen shut his eyes at the shot of want that streaked down his spine, "Shit, Jay.  You're gonna kill me."

"Is that a yes?"

What to do?  Lord knew he was so far gone the room was spinning.  Though the whiskey could've had a hand in that as well.

Instead of answering, Jensen reached into his pants and pulled out his throbbing cock and immediately started stroking it from root to tip.  He was so worked up, his hips involuntarily canted into his grip and he let out a groan and dropped his head onto the back of the sofa letting it loll to the side, facing Jared.

Jensen watched as Jared's eyes widened at the sight in front of him and he started letting out gasping breaths before reaching into his underwear, pulling out his cock (Big-fucking-cock.  Want-it-in-his-mouth-cock) as he pulled down his pants with the other hand.  Jay's eyes rolled into the back of his head as he leaned back against the sofa, inches away from Jensen's gasping mouth.  

"Fuck..."  Jensen whispered as he felt Jared's rapid breaths against his lips.  Immediately, he licked his lower lip trying in vain to catch the taste of his best friend and swallow it down.  He opened his eyes into slits and peered right into yellow-green orbs as he let out a low moan when his cock jerked in his hand.

He was so fucking close....

Jared let out a deep groan in tandem with Jensen, his mouth hanging slightly open as his hand reached down and played with his sack, "Jen....God...the things I wanna do to you..."

Those thick lips were so close to his own, he could practically feel them opening up and taking everything he had to give.  He licked his lips, hoping his tongue would graze against Jared's but instead he felt an answering lick against the tip of his tongue as Jared tentatively rubbed it against his.

"Again...." Jensen groaned, "Please....again."

A sound of complete surrender left Jared's throat as he closed the small distance between their mouths and immediately wrapped his tongue around Jensen's before sucking Jensen's bottom lip into his mouth.  

A bomb went through Jensen's torso and immediately erupted out of his dick as he came so hard his eyes crossed and he moaned long and loud into Jared's mouth causing the other man to moan in return. Come arched through the air and landed right on his t-shirt as he closed his mouth over Jared's and kissed him with deep strokes of his tongue.

"Oh God, oh FUCK!"

The loud scream from the laptop caused both men to separate and look down in time to see the dark haired guy on screen on his back getting plowed by Big-Dick as the blonde sucked down his cock.

"I'm gonna come!" He yelled into the air, "I'm gonna come."

As the blonde lifted her face out of the way, he shot up and onto his chest with loud grunts as the guy who had been fucking him pulled out and helped the blonde lap up the come on his chest.  

A low groan came from Jared, "Ugggghhh, Jen.  Shiiiiit."

Jensen looked to the side just in time to see Jared rip up his T-shirt  just as his red tipped dick erupted onto his now exposed stomach.

It was by far one of the hottest fucking things he had ever seen in his life.

As both men leaned back letting out low gasps, Jensen waited for the awkwardness to settle in.  But nothing happened.   He blinked up at the ceiling of the trailer and tried to trudge up something of the fear that he felt earlier but instead he  just felt....content.

"You okay, Jen?"  

Jensen turned his head to meet Jared's slightly panicked eyes.

Jared gulped as Jensen didn't immediately answer,  "I mean...are we okay?"

Taking in that strong jawline and those beautiful eyes, Jensen smiled, "Yeah.  Yeah, Jay.  We're good."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Jared closed the laptop between them and placed it on the table before closing the small distance between their bodies.  As Jensen felt the heat radiating off of Jared's body bleed into own, he let his eyes slide down to the curve of Jared's lips and couldn't help but bring his mouth to his and press a soft kiss against them.  He felt Jared smile before the taller man deepened the kiss and slid one of those massive hands of his across Jensen's t-shirt covered stomach.  With a groan into Jensen's mouth. he squeezed at the side of Jensen's waist before meandering his fingers up his chest towards his neck before suddenly stopping and looking down at his hand.

"What's wrong?"  Jensen on a breath.

Biting his lip, Jared brought up his shiny fingers, "Dude, you either have a talent for shooting long distance or you really were backed up,"

Jensen's eyes widened, "Is that my-"

"Come?  Yep," Jared opened his mouth and inserted his fingers before sucking them deep and releasing them with a pop and a smirk, "Still warm too."

Another dip in his belly as Jensen tried to decide how he felt about watching his best friend lick his come off his fingers.  When said friend, winked at him and bit his bottom lip, Jensen decided he was abso-fucking-lutley okay with it, "Fuck.  You're gonna kill me."

Jared hummed deep in his throat and leaned his head in to kiss Jensen again when a loud knock sounded at the door.

"Yo!  Open up the door!  You two fools better not have drank all the alcohol."

Shit!  Y/N!

With panicky eyes and fumbling hands righting clothes, Jensen cleared his throat and quickly made it to the door after looking back to make sure Jared was decent.

"Hey!"  Y/N said with a bright smile when the door opened, "Sorry I took so long.  Crisis with Christy happened.  Again!"  Y/N said referring to one of the PA's on staff as she made her way around Jensen and to his small kitchenette, "But I brought pizza!"  She lifted the box in her hands before placing it on the table, "Hope you guys are hungry."

Jared and Jensen shared a heavy look before Jared answered, "Yeah, I'd say we worked up a pretty decent appetite today."

Y/N looked around the trailer and took a deep breath, swinging around making the short skirt she had on flounce in the air, "It smells like bad decisions in here, Ackles.  You really need to clean up after you bang random chick number sixty-nine."

Jared let out a high pitched laugh as Jensen pursed his lips at his friend, "I did not bang any..chick in here. Thank you very much."

Y/N shrugged off her jacket and placed it on the back of a chair before plopping down next to Jared on the couch, "Then you need to figure out which sock is lying around and still hiding the evidence of your last....activities."

"Y/N!"

"Just sayin'."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~

Tagging some peeps that may be interested.  Let me know if its not your thing and you’d rather not be tagged.

@thoughtslikeaminefield  @maddiepants @coffee-obsessed-writer @pisces-cutie @idreamofplaid @tumbler-tidbits @glassjacket @boondoctorwho @spnkinkbingo

[stardust-and-blades]

Shatter: part 1

*whispers* I swear I’m writing fluff in my ghost au but at the moment I wanna write a zombie apocalypse scene that I had in my head for my oc’s but was unable to write due to a past friend not willing to write with me anymore so here it is

klance form

Summary: Keith and Lance are set up on a mission to gather supplies within a small town. It was meant to be an easy errand, one they have done before. But the situation turns dire when Keith ends up getting bit and doesn’t tell the team.  Nor Lance.

----------------------

Keith lied awake in bed, Lance knocked out from the day’s earlier expedition. He is curled up besides Keith, his head resting in the crook of his neck and a hand in Keith’s. He was content. Most likely dreaming about finding his family. Dreaming of a world where the dead stayed dead and you could walk anywhere without the fear of being eaten. 

Keith wanted to dream like that. Have his entire mind submerged in fantasy, living in another reality for five minutes instead of the remainder of his life in the absolute shithole humanity managed to dig themselves into.

He wanted to imagine his life extending far beyond a couple of days, looking forward to red and blue tulips and a flowery path leading to a priest, bands of gold embracing his marriage finger.

But no. He does not have eternity. He does not have a year. He does not have 24 hours, because the throbbing in his side reminded him of what is to come. To relive the early days of the zombie infestation, his parents being turned and Keith being forced to kill them.

Is that what awaits him? A cold death. A brutal death. Either one by a bullet to the head or his human will slipping from his fingers, it overwhelmed by the need to feed and the desire to sink his teeth into soft, pulsing flesh. 

He didn’t eat, but his stomach churned to expel the nausea. 

Keith slowly got up, slipping his arm out of Lance’s grasp. Lance frowned in his sleep, wondering where the warmth of his partner went. To ease him, Keith kissed the top of his head, whispering he needed to use the bathroom. It smoothed out Lance’s features, him mumbling a faint “kay...ove you...” before those beautiful whisps of imagination and ‘what ifs’ ebbed him back into a blessed slumber.

When Keith locked himself in the bathroom, he covered the small window far up above the toilet with its black drapes. He switched on his flashlight and pulled his shirt up, hissing as he prodded on the torn, scabbed skin. Purple veins popped out, the yellow and green of infection coursed its way around the bite, Keith suppressing the urge to claw at it. Make it bleed. Swallowing the wave of chipped nails and chilling, metallic shards. Anything so he could feel human.

If he were bit on the arm or leg, he could have easily chopped it off. Hacked at it away until he was sure he was safe, at ease to lose a limb than the life he grew to value. But no. He went out and got bit on the stomach. There is no amputating that.

To think he made such a rookie mistake.

“Hey Keith, lets check out the building over there!” Lance suggested, nudging him with his elbow. “The market is still a little ways away, and usually swarming with undead. Maybe we can find some nonperishable items in the food bank.”

Keith smiled. “Good idea. Hopefully some bottled water, too. We are running low. And we will need some medication for Shiro’s arm.”

Lance tapped his chin. “Hmm, we can try a couple of houses. Hospitals are hard. And it looks like this place is hanging on by a thread.” Lance glanced around, taking in the rotting wood, overgrown weeds, shattered windows, and lack of humans and zombies. It was a small town, afterall. Unlike the city, the place mirrored the dead in outcome. 

“Yeah, I had to save your ass last time we were at a hospital.” 

Lance pouted. “Hey, it’s not my fault there was a random torso underneath the desk.”

Still had to save you.”

“Keep talking and I’m chopping off your mullet.”

Keith shrugged and kissed him on the lips, silencing him at least for a good five seconds before his face bloomed with blush and began sputtering. “You--! You can’t keep doing that to win an argument!”

“Why?”

“Because--Because--” He fished for a reason, his hook coming out with very little. “Because you just can’t!”

“Smooth, Lance.”

Lance just shoved his hood over his head and tightened the strings. “You’re insufferable. I hope a zombie eats me.”

Keith went quiet. He almost forgot what they were there for. What world they are in. For a brief second, he felt like he was back in the time Before. When he was just a kid trying to pay off his school loans. 

Noticing Keith’s silence, Lance peaked from his hoodie. Keith’s eyes are far away, the shine dimmed and his body tense. He could have been mistaken for a statue.

Lance wrapped his hands around his limp one by his side, the other one holding a prepped knife. “Sorry, poor choice in words. If anything, I won’t be eaten.” Lance said, a feather of good fun disguising his comfort. “I’ll be saving the day. Like always.”

Keith, consumed by the past, snapped out of it and looked back at Lance. He melted, the crease in his brow and the infecting paranoia subsiding. Washed away with Lance’s warmth, leaving the mode of survival and embracing the rush of love through those beautiful aquas. 

“Yeah. Like always.”

So they went into the abandoned food bank, drunk on the sparkles and butterflies of those moments.

It was a two leveled house made to look like a business, the main foyer holding aged desks and shattered lamps. They checked for any zombies that could be lurking in nooks, crannies, and closets, taking slow footsteps and weapons drawn. The basement, which was flooded, was left unchecked until Keith flashed his light inside, calling to Lance that he was going to dive in and see if there is anything pidge could tinker with. Maybe find some canned food untouched by the murky waters. No doubt the flooding was caused by a broken, rusty pipe. It wasn’t that deep. Up to his knees. Quiet. harmless.

Or so he thought.

He saw what seemed to be an old package of bottled water, Keith not bothering to double check he was safe. He just went to the water, picking one up when it all went wrong.

It all went terribly wrong.

A hand wrapped around his ankle and pulled, Keith losing his footing and splashing into the dirty water, his nose flooded and throat choking for air. He tried to scream, but all that came out was gurgles and bubbles. Lance probably can’t hear him thrash, his face being shoved further down as he caught sight of decaying teeth and skin. His knife gone. He fought for the surface. Writhed and squirmed for his machete, pure terror coursing through his veins as his eyes landed on the teeth inching towards his stomach.

No, no no no no--

As he got hold of the hilt of his machete, red hot pain flared, Keith letting out a scream as a chunk of him is torn out. He pushed and kicked, refusing to be a meal on the zombie’s menu. He kneed the rotting corpse in the head, it releasing Keith as he gasped for oxygen. But he didn’t stop to fully breathe, for he plunged his blade deep into its head. 

His ears were ringing. The water tinged with crimson, his eyes seeing nothing as all he registered was the the fact he got bit.

He got bit.

He didn’t even hear Lance call from him above, Keith’s body moving on its own as he angrily sifted through the water, searching for another corpse to kill. To mangle. To destroy, just like they destroyed his future. It was bad enough he lost friends and family during the breakout. Now...Now he is doomed. Branded. Cursed to become one of them. To bring grief to the smiles he adored.

To hurt Lance, already seeing Lance’s serene blues morph into a drought of disbelief and teardrops.

When Lance found Keith due to him not responding to his calls, he discovered a motionless boy, staring down at the zombie and his machete soaked with blood. The face of the undead is barely recognizable, and Lance wondered what provoked Keith to unleash such brutality. 

“Keith?” Lance said again, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at Lance. He cupped Keith’s face in his hands, asking desperately for a response. “Keith? Keith, are you hurt? Are you okay? Keith?”

He could only muster a weak hug as Lance held him close, shoving a bloodcurdling scream deep within until he was away from Lance.

He had to tell someone. But who? 

There was a light knock on the door, Keith shoving his shirt back down.

“Yeah?”

“Keith?” Shiro called. “You okay? I saw your light earlier.”

No doubt. Keith forgot Shiro was on watch tonight.

Keith opened his mouth to say what he usually says, an old habit he was good at. But he stopped, taking in the memory of earlier that day.

He had to tell someone. He had such a short amount of time left. He didn’t want to end up like one of them. But he also didn’t want to be alone. 

He took a breath.

“Actually, can you come in? I need to tell you something.”

By the end, the others remained in blissful ignorance, never hearing the choked sob of the dying boy and the drop of a flashlight, the protective glass shattering into a million pieces.

And as Keith walked up the stairs of his and Lance’s room and Shiro lost the sensation of drowsiness to the plans for the next day, Keith curled in the sheets. He kept Lance close, breathing in his smell of sweat and pine and working to memorize it. To savor the last little bit he had with his love, the tears not stopping until morning broke. 

Lance greeted him with a sleepy but soft smile. The sunlight not touching the couple, but might as well have with the radiance seeping from a simple glance. Keith wanted to bottle it up, hold it close to him until his dying breath, refusing to let the rain touch it. 

But life had other plans. The rain came early. And Lance was left speechless, worry etched in his tone as he asked Keith what was wrong.

“Nothing,” Keith said, wiping away his tears. “Just a nightmare.”

Lance wiped a drop from his cheek, understanding. “Ah. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No...I...” Keith struggled for words, split between telling him and sealing his mouth shut. He hid his face in the pillow, wanting nothing more but to disappear. “Not yet. It’s still fresh. I just want to stay like this for a little longer.”

“Hunk is going to be serving breakfast in a bit. We should go eat something.” Lance suggested, kind but also knowing the team rarely had meals like this. They scored in finding plenty of supplies for a week in the food bank. Hunk no doubt wanted to celebrate by eating a full meal rather than the beans and canned fruit they had lived on. 

Keith circled his arms around Lance’s middle, begging for five more minutes. Five more. That was all he needed to gain his bearings. To put his mask back on. To believe he had years left of life than a measly couple of days. Or was it a day now? He did not care. He wanted to focus on the now.

Lance sighed, but combed his hands through Keith’s nest of hair and kissed the top of his hairline, Keith turning into a puddle by the normalcy. The facade everything would be okay, thought deep down he knew it to be a lie. 

He hated lies. But this lie is the only one he can allow.

Soon, fatigue laid their sheets, Keith’s vision becoming scarce as the fingers of his lover whisked away his fears. Cascaded them to the wind, his nightmare temporarily being forced into remission. 

If he could choose, he would choose to die like this. Caressed and loved. His heart human and his mind content. 

Don’t break the illusion.

Don’t shatter.

[tysonrunningfox]

Ripped: Part 11

Why are they like this?  Why?  What is even their issue?  

Ao3

Astrid is a believer in hard work.

There are very few obstacles in life that can’t be overcome with determination, willingness to get her hands dirty, and dedication to the cause. However, deciphering her feelings while sitting across a dingy bar table from Hiccup’s sharp jaw and green eyes, holding a beer she got from her best friend’s cousin who now only owes her forty-seven dollars while said best friend and Hiccup’s cousin hook up might be one of those outlying obstacles.

And that’s not even unpacking the fact that she only met Hiccup because he was giving serial killer tours to her apartment, the past tense being because a new set of twin murders interrupted his route with the promise of further interruptions. And then that gets even more complicated because not only did she and Hiccup kiss while she was at work, but later that same night she was with him when they discovered the second murder victim, seconds after she accidentally called him sexy.

Or not him specifically, but something he did, and that’s almost worse.

And she might be able to scrape together some plan of attack for all of that, but adding the fact that he also happened to discover the first body after a middle of the night private serial killer tour he gave her where they were caught trespassing and practically hugging on camera pushes it over the edge.

She’s lost.

And there’s the whole thing he’s been in custody twice in as many weeks but she still can’t stop thinking about how he looked at her, like he absolutely couldn’t handle not kissing her for another second. Even though she was being stubborn and loud and forcing her opinion on him. Maybe even because of those things.

Neither of them knew what to say while they finished their drinks and their interaction devolved into silence occasionally punctuated by people watching commentary. He offered to walk her home, but she took an Uber because as safe as Berk’s new condo developments brag about being, she doesn’t live in one of those.

She lives in yet another Grimborn murder site, likely on a list to be revisited.

Yet another complication.

“You’re thinking about that ship roster really hard,” Fishlegs sits down at his desk, flicking through his meticulously maintained planner.

She half wonders what Fishlegs would say about her current conundrums. He’s got the kind of analytical approach she can really admire, but his opinion of Hiccup is clear and deserved. It was Hiccup who pushed her against the bookcase and threatened his precious encyclopedias, after all.

“It’s complicated.”

“Want to talk about it?”  

She thinks a minute, “no.”

Astrid doesn’t want to talk about it. She wants to do something about it, she just doesn’t know what to do.

Hiccup (4:23pm): hey are you at work?

She hates how the silent implication makes her cheeks burn.

Astrid (4:24pm): yeah

Hiccup (4:25pm): oh cool, would you mind if I dropped by and got a copy of that Al, I. Safe picture to laminate? The one you gave me is wearing out quick and it’s smeared not that you care I’m sure it smeared in your fervent quest to prove me wrong

Astrid hates how she can’t deny that her stomach flips. If Fishlegs repeated his concern right now, she’s not sure what she’d say, but he disappeared into the back room to organize new donations.

Astrid (4:27pm): sure

Hiccup (4:28pm): be there in like 5?

Her heart stutters and she tries not to care. She can’t help but hate how she left it at the bar, the weird backward walk towards the door, the insistence that she get a ride rather than walk. And now she has to deal with another random, instantaneous meeting? She needs time and planning and for it to occur away from Hiccup’s undeniable pull.

She tries to focus exclusively on her work but every time she hears the door open she jumps and has to reread at least a paragraph. The first is the mail, the second is someone lost and hoping for the library upstairs, but the third is Hiccup, determinedly faking casual as he trots down the stairs with uneven strides she still wants to ask about.

“Hey!” He says too brightly and Astrid purposefully takes a second too long to look up.

“Hi.”

He pauses a couple feet in front of her desk and swallows hard. He shaved recently, and he looks younger and sharper and somehow more likely to catch her off guard.

“Are you doing something super important for the future of Berk’s history’s maintenance or…”

She can’t quite stifle her smile, “not really.”

“Great,” he grins wider, all crooked teeth and genuine excitement and everything would be so much easier if Astrid’s heart didn’t skip like a turntable in a hurricane. “So, Al. I, safe message? If you don’t mind…”

“Right, sure,” she stands up too quickly, chair rolling back a few feet and smacking into a bookshelf.

“No rush,” Hiccup laughs, shoulders rigid and hands waving at her chair, “wouldn’t want you to break something in your excitement to help me copy something.”

“I haven’t put it away since last week, I still need to talk to Fishlegs about how we’d recategorize it as Grimborn-related,” she ignores his comment about breaking things and leaves her chair where it is, leading him down the familiar aisle between old yellowed papers to the table she set her findings out on.

“Does that mean there’s a special stack you send Grimborn-ologists to so that you don’t have to talk to us?”

“Well, that would be my solution,” she flips carefully through the paper to the picture, trying not to think about the vague wrinkles in the print from his hand clenching as he kissed her. “But currently Fishlegs’s solution is to just send them all my way.”

“Let me guess, it’s been busy?” He skirts around mentioning the recent murders, but it doesn’t matter. Sometimes it feels like all she talks about lately, as she leads curious, insensitive people to documents she then has to make sure they don’t take as a souvenir.  

She nods, “I hate to say you’re right, but you are pretty well adjusted, considering the crowd as a whole.”

“What makes you say that?” He cocks his head, reverently taking the paper from her and following towards the copier. The encyclopedias mock her when his hand brushes against her arm.

“You know, there was the guy who wanted his girlfriend to lay on the floor to pose like Elizabeth Smith,” she wrinkles her nose, “but I don’t know how even that compares to the guy who got angry at me because I didn’t magically produce modern crime scene photos to compare to vintage ones. He claimed this was a ‘decaying institution’ because I explained we obviously don’t have access to current police case documentation.”

“What an idiot,” Hiccup snorts, “this is a historical archive, there are obvious environmental controls to prevent decay.”

“That’s bad,” she doesn’t understand how he can melt more stiff tension than she can think through with a bad joke, it must go hand in hand with how he made her feel safe in dark alleys when logic and reality continually affirm she was anything but. “Come on, that was lame.”

“It got a smile,” he says, self-satisfied but not smug, and his eyes narrow when he sees the copier, “we meet again, old friend.”

“What?”

“The copier and I have history, remember? I tried to copy a comic book three years ago and jammed it up,” he sets the paper down picture up on the work table and pats the top of the copier with a careful hand, “the foundation of Fishlegs and my blood feud, as you put it.”

“Right,” she takes the paper and carefully folds it back to align the picture with the corner, “maybe I should press the buttons then, I wouldn’t want to involve myself in that drama.”

The copier is probably older than some of the archive’s collections and it takes a minute to turn on, its wheezing fan turning the silence awkward as Astrid’s worries whir back to life along with it. Hiccup is alternating between staring at his feet and the side of her face, brows furrowed.

“Thanks for letting me come by, by the way, and for the picture. And for finding the picture, in the first place, even though you were only doing it to prove me wrong, which you did, it clearly does have punctuation—but that’s not what I mean.” He doesn’t pause to breathe so much as to let the mental gears behind his eyes rotate fully so that he can pick back up where he got off track. “I uh…I guess I understand all the very real reasons you probably want nothing to do with me—”

“What?” She turns to face him, frowning.

“I’m just saying I get it, and I appreciate you being cool about it even as I’m…practically having a spasm over here trying to talk to you,” he laughs, high pitched and nasal, his arms flailing and smacking the copier. It coughs and she has to press the start button again. “And considering the size and scale of ass I made of myself at Gruff’s the other day, I get that other things that might have ummm…been said or occurred are likely voided, as it were—not that there was any kind of contract when you said and did them, I was just amazed someone as, you know, astounding as you seemed to be starting to like me, maybe—”

“Hiccup,” she reflexively puts her hand on his shoulder, sure that if she doesn’t hold him down he’ll vibrate into another dimension, “I let you give tours to my apartment, do you think I’d do that if I didn’t like you?”

“Oh,” he thinks on that for a second, eyes darting to her hand on his shoulder, and she carefully retracts it, flushing as he half smiles. She gets that bone deep feeling she’s going to regret what she just said as he opens his mouth to say something, but then thinks better of it and presses his lips together in a tight line.

The copier spits out a single, un-smeared picture and he reaches for it, already leaning away from her like he’s planning a great escape. That isn’t allowed and she grabs it before he can, setting it on the small table behind her and crossing her arms.

“What’s your problem, Hiccup?”

“Problem?” He blinks, long eyelashes adding to the innocent façade, “I wouldn’t say I have a problem, I think I just—the long and short of it is I met someone really…amazing, but I pissed her off before I even officially met her and for some reason she forgave me enough to go on a private tour with me and it felt—I don’t know, like we—but it doesn’t matter, probably, because then there was a murder. Except maybe it does matter because then we kissed and it was,” he’s so red he’s practically glowing but his frantic energy is dissipating with every word, like he’s exorcising himself of it, “and then we found another murder victim, together, which isn’t my ideal date or not date or…activity.”

“Mine either.”

“It’s not the association I really wanted, you know?” He winces but his chuckle is real, “but at the same time I don’t blame you if you look at me and see, you know, a modern times Grimborn murder re-enactment scene.”

“I don’t,” she looks at him a little too hard, taking in his open, nervous expression and the hope there that he’s trying and failing to put out. “You know, your problem sounds pretty similar to a problem I’m having right now.”

“Yeah?” He isn’t bad at pretending to relax, but his stiff upper body doesn’t fool her, “did me blurting it all out like an idiot help?”

“Maybe,” her small smile feels tired, “at least we’re on the same page.”

“That’s all I’ve been hoping for since you found this picture,” he points at his copy, “which is still amazing, by the way, I don’t think I’ve said that enough.”

“Just another thing wrapped up in Grimborn.” She shakes her head, “my apartment, my job, my…” She looks at him importantly, fumbling for a word that could encompass everything he just said and the way she feels when she looks at him. Excited and comfortable at all the wrong times.

“So we just don’t talk about Grimborn then,” Hiccup shrugs, shoulders forcefully easy as he leans back against the copier, knuckles white where his hands are gripping his upper arms.

“What else are we going to talk about?” Astrid pulls the original Enquirer out of the copier and folds it carefully on the table next to it, trying not to feel his eyes boring into the side of her head.

She knows he doesn’t ignore advantages and this time it makes her hold her breath.

“We could talk about the fact that you like me,” his voice dips at the end, conspiratorial, and Astrid can’t shake the feeling that the papers are listening, adding information to their tightly stacked volumes and storing it for later. “I’m kind of still wondering how I managed that.”

“Who says it’s not your Grimborn knowledge?” She wishes he was wearing the hat. The hat makes him bold and winking and silly, an act she can act back at. He’s vulnerable in an unzipped jacket and band tee-shirt she wants to ask him about and it’s an invitation to be vulnerable too.

She usually clicks tentative yes on those, hoping people get it means no.

“I thought we weren’t talking about him.”

Astrid can imagine all of those stories in all of those papers, all the people largely forgotten and lost in their own environmentally controlled, ink preserving worlds, turning away out of a well-deserved kind of respect. She keeps their secrets legible after all, the least they can do is keep her secret.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I can be a little intense,” she edges closer, finger messing with the copier buttons while she drags her eyes to his. Green even in the dingy corner of the room, soft and shy and locked on hers like he’s not going to let either of those things stop him.

“A little?” The corner of his mouth quirks into a quiet half smile, eyes squinting with that eternal curiosity that feels heavy and light and warm when directed at her. She could bring up Grimborn and re-direct it, but as convenient as that would be, she doesn’t want to.

“Most people want me to back off,” she tucks her hair behind her ear and watches him suppress a smile, “you don’t.”

“Back off? As in decrease the intensity?” He laughs, long arms flailing, hand brushing her arm and shrinking back, cautious and hopeful and jittery. “Never, why would—if anything increase it. More is better, right?”

She lets it hang long enough for him to get nervous, for the hope to condense into worry and indecision and the urge to open his mouth to keep convincing, “more intense then, is what you’re saying?”

“I umm,” he clears his throat, eyes scanning her face like he’s checking that she’s real and giving her reason to prove that she is, “wouldn’t mind. I welcome it, actually.”

Somehow, he still manages to be surprised when she grabs the back of his neck to pull him down to her, hands flailing and hitting the copier again when she kisses him.

Astrid will never admit to anyone, personalities trapped in hundred-year-old papers included, how many hours of sleep she lost not to thinking about murder, but to lamenting the fact that Hiccup kissed her before she kissed him. The cheek doesn’t count, that was impulsive and embarrassing and looking back with what she knows now, everything would be a lot less complicated if she’d acted on her full impulse then.

He wouldn’t have been stumbling on a body fifteen minutes later, for a start.

Kissing him first is better, she likes his shocked pause and sharp inhalation against her cheek before coming back to life with soft, careful lips.

It’s good for a lot of reasons that Hiccup recovers quickly from shock, but right now the only one that matters is his hands settling warm on her hips and pulling her closer. He kisses like he talks, meandering and endless, lips pressing trailing anecdotes along her jaw while she desperately wants him to get to the point.

The copier creaks and chimes when she leans harder against him, one hand in his hair and the other sliding under his jacket to feel the sharp lines of his shoulder blades. He feels stronger than he looks and his light grip on her hips feels teasing, half the story when she needs it all now. She nips at his lower lip to hurry him along and he manages to stumble while standing still, fingers digging into her sides for support at the sharp snap of breaking plastic behind him.

“Shit,” Astrid pulls back and Hiccup kisses down her neck, nose dragging along the collar of her shirt and making her shiver, “we’re breaking the copier.”

“I’ve fixed it before,” his breath is cool against the damp trail he left under her jaw and she closes her eyes, willing herself to pull back.

“Astrid is the one to talk about Grimborn with, it’s not really my specialty,” Fishlegs voice shatters the tension and she stands up too fast, straightening her shirt and wiping her mouth on the back of her hand.

Hiccup is not as quick, staring at her with a dazed, open expression, lips kiss swollen and hair sticking up on one side. She grabs his hand and pulls him away from the copier, swearing when one of the plastic trim pieces clatters to the floor, the clips on one side snapped off.

“Fix it fast,” she shoves it into his limp hands, trying and failing to pat down his hair as another voice joins Fishlegs’s.

“Ah yes, Astrid, I’ve been waiting to meet her,” it’s accented and polite, but something about it sends a chill up Astrid’s spine that has nothing to do with Hiccup struggling to make the trim piece stay in place.

“Oh?” Fishlegs is defensive, again, and she’s really going to have to talk to him about that.

“For the investigation.”

“Do you have duct tape?” Hiccup whispers, but it’s too late as Fishlegs is coming around the corner with a tall man in a gray uniform that matches the sinister undertone in his voice. Hiccup thinks fast and leans back against the copier again, holding the trim piece in place and waving at the newcomers.

“Hey Fishlegs,” he says brightly, despite Fishlegs’s scowl, and then his voice drops flat and unimpressed, “Mr. Grisly.”

“I should have expected to find you two together again,” the man in gray holds out his hand and when Astrid shakes it, it’s icy, not even vital enough to be clammy. “Mr. Grisly, head of the Neighborhood Watch Force, I’ve been invited to help investigate the recent murders and I understand you were unlucky enough to encounter a victim.”

“Yes,” she resists the urge to wipe her hand on her pants when he lets go, “I gave my statement to the police.”

“Of course, I’ve read it.” His grin is as dead as his touch, everything animated about him condensed in his eyes. “You have an interesting perspective on all of these unfortunate happenings.”

Saying luck and fortune too many times too close together makes them sound like badly veiled intention.

“I wouldn’t say I have much of a perspective at all,” Astrid shrugs, tucking her hands in her pockets, “all of it is in that statement.”

“You were hear to ask about Grimborn,” Fishlegs cuts into the conversation and Astrid is surprised that she doesn’t mind his protective tone for once, “I can actually help you with that.”

“Actually, I don’t think I’ll be needing your help, not with the real Hiccup Haddock expert right here.” Mr. Grisly gestures at Hiccup with those waxy fingers and he raises his eyebrows, shifting against the copier with a scrape of plastic that would be funny and awkward in any other tense situation. Here though, it just sounds like a pin dropping during a stealth mission, a weakness on display to someone looking out for one.

“I wouldn’t call myself a Hiccup Haddock expert,” Hiccup laughs, deflecting, “I know myself maybe a five out of ten at best, you might want to talk to Officer Jorgenson about that one.”

“I was speaking of the Viggo Grimborn suspect Admiral Hiccup Haddock,” Grisly’s chuckle is gravel thrown through a window, all solid malice and sharp edges, “although it does inform the current case to hear how clueless you are about your own actions.”

“Not my actions so much as my intentions,” Hiccup blanches, shrugging like there’s some hope of pulling this situation back towards the casual. “And my reasoning. Basically my trajectory in life, but I’m pretty solid on my own actions. What do you want to know about Admiral Haddock?”

“I’m just curious about the connection.”

“There’s no connection, the original book is fiction,” he elbows Astrid for corroboration, “right? You’ve read it.”

“Bad fiction,” she agrees and Mr. Grisly smiles.

“My favorite. Can you recommend me a version?”

“Uh,” Hiccup looks at Astrid out of the corner of his eye, realizing he’ll have to move, and she tries to look casual putting her hand on the piece of loose trim. Her fingers brush a little low on his back when she does and she can’t hide her blush with a stoic expression so she just tries to avoid Fishlegs’s eyeline. “Sure, I know where they are in the library upstairs.”

“How helpful,” Grisly’s approximation of delight is more menacing for his dedication to it.

“Anything for the investigation,” Hiccup steps carefully away from the copier and looks at Astrid seriously for a second, “talk to you later?”

“I’m sure you will,” Grisly and Fishlegs say in unison with exact opposite intonation, Fishlegs’s arms crossed as he purposefully stands in the way and forces Hiccup to walk around him on the way to the stairs.

Hiccup and Mr. Grisly are barely out of sight when the other side of the copier trim pops free, waving in mid-air.

“And he broke the copier, again.”

Astrid sighs, taking the trim piece off and setting it on top of the machine, “to be fair, we both had a part in that.”

“He broke the copier,” Fishlegs raises an eyebrow, “and I told you to check out a study room.”

“Nothing happened, we were just…arguing about Grimborn.” She rubs the back of her neck, willing the heat to dissipate from under her hair.

“Right, that always gives me a hickey,” he looks pointedly at her neck and she pulls her hair forward to cover it.

“It won’t happen again,” she nods, “and he said he can fix it.” She doesn’t mention the duct tape comment, there’s no way that would go over well. They don’t even have scotch tape at their desks because glue and old documents is such a bad combination.

“What do you see in that guy anyway?” Fishlegs oversteps, yet again, but Astrid’s almost glad that someone finally asked. “You used to be so determined to get him away from you, what changed? And why does he have to be here so often?”

The last question dents her last clinging scrap of resolve and she lets it go.

“Has anyone ever thought you were a little too academic, Fish?” She tries out the nickname, letting this feel like friendship even though that risks more awkward questions.

He snorts, “there was a time in elementary school that I legitimately thought my middle name was ‘get your nose out of that book, young man’.”

“One second it was something to be proud of that I was the first Hofferson to go to college,” she shrugs, faking noncommittal even though that word has never applied to her, “but when I came back having learned things, suddenly I was uppity, disrespectful. Hiccup…he seems to like it when I’m right. He doesn’t even mind when I’m loud about it.”

“Here I thought we were bonding,” Fishlegs smiles, “I thought you were finally going to admit you’re just fascinated with the top hat.”

“You caught me,” she punches him in the arm and he winces, “come on, that did not hurt.”

“I barely know you Astrid, and I’m as sure that you are freakishly strong as I am that you aren’t uppity or disrespectful,” he rubs his arm and weighs that, “well, disrespectful to priceless collections of Brittanicas, maybe—“

“Shut up about the encyclopedias or I’ll hit you again,” the threat is empty and friendly and final, getting Fishlegs off of her mind and letting her wonder about Mr. Grisly with her full attention. She doesn’t hesitate as much as she would have thought before texting Snotlout, hoping for a little illumination, as he doesn’t seem very good at keeping his mouth shut.

Astrid (5:02pm): some guy calling himself Mr. Grisly just came by my work

He doesn’t answer right away and she tries to focus on work, but documentation isn’t really holding her attention after all that happened in the last hour. Especially knowing Hiccup is just upstairs with ostensibly the creepiest man she’s ever met while her lips are still tingling from that kiss.

“So this is the glamorous job that lets you afford your own place,” Ruffnut interrupts, strolling down the stairs and perching on the edge of Astrid’s desk, wrinkling the corner of an old shipping manifesto.

Seeing Ruffnut hasn’t brought on so much relief since that first night in her apartment when someone downstairs started yelling murder.

“My job is to keep stuff like this safe,” Astrid pokes her friend’s butt until she scoots off of the paper and then sets a heavy book on it to press the creases flat.  “And my apartment is cheap.  What’s up?”

“Tuff needed to drop off a check upstairs so I thought I’d come say hi, like the thoughtful and attentive friend that I am.”  Ruffnut’s smile says otherwise and Astrid sighs, still ultimately glad for the distraction. Her eyes were starting to glaze over trying to find a reason to name a stupid shipping manifesto for thirty bushels of apples as important in any way, especially when so many other things obviously are.

“You’re here to brag.” Astrid doesn’t expect the flash of frustration, bordering on jealousy, given that she and Hiccup have been on however many not dates by now and Ruffnut is the smug one.

“I was going to say gloat but brag works too,” she laughs, “also, I did forget to get his number so if you could help me out with that…”

“You’re telling me you never found a moment of pause to get his number?”

“Nope.”

“Ok, gloat is a better fit, I see that now.” Astrid’s phone rings, Officer Snotlout Jorgenson flashing on the screen, “speak of the devil.”

“Wait, why’s he calling you?” Ruffnut tries to snatch the phone but Astrid beats her to it, “he should be calling me.”

“Then you should have given him your number,” she picks up, too aware of Ruffnut leaning down on the other side of the phone to listen, “what’s up?”

“I’m not actually a weirdo who calls people, I just don’t want a written record of bitching about Grisly as long as I have to see his stupid face at work every day,” Snotlout starts, “what was he doing talking to you?”

“Just asking about the investigation,” Astrid glares at Ruffnut, turning her office chair away so to try and minimize the eavesdropping. It seems smart given she can’t trust Ruffnut not to run around threatening disembowelment. “The investigation that you’re calling about, the one with the current murders and I happened to find one of the bodies, so it pertains to me.” She drives in the point.

“Duh, Astrid, keep up,” Snotlout laughs and she grits her teeth.

“Not having a problem with that, thanks, but who is this Grisly guy?”

“Thought you were all caught up,” he teases but apparently thinks better of it and continues, “no but it’s probably good you know because Hiccup won’t remember not to antagonize those NWF fucks—“

“NWF?”

“Again, since you’re so caught up, I’ll pause and explain that Grisly douche is the leader of these pseudo-police assholes acting like they own the place because a few condo developers are paying him out the ass to keep the streets clean, because apparently public cops aren’t good enough for rich people.”

Astrid groans internally, remembering Hiccup mouthing off while trying not to remember his mouth.

“Well, I wish I’d known that a minute ago because he left with Hiccup—“

“Shit,” Snotlout sighs, “I love the guy but keeping him out of jail is a full time job.”

“Ugh, you guys bonding over your boyfriend being an idiot is boring,” Ruffnut groans, “give me the phone, I’ll ask for his number.”

“No,” Astrid shushes her, but it’s too late.

“Is that Ruffnut? Is she there with you?”

“No.”

“Give her your phone, I have to tell her something,” he pushes and Astrid rubs her temple.

“Is it your number? Because then I could stop being your go-between.”

“Nah, it’s about last weekend—“

“No, I’m hanging up now,” Astrid doesn’t wait for an answer before doing exactly that and turning back to Ruffnut. “Are you done gloating?”

“Since I can tell you’re done listening to it, sure,” she shrugs, “the gloating was mostly just a bonus anyway, I was going to ask if you wanted a ride home.”

That’s almost sweet enough to mute her annoyance and she starts to thank her for the offer and decline, but then she thinks of what Snotlout said and the hollow, manic look in Grisly’s eyes. The idea of him being in command of people doesn’t scare her, but it makes her nervous. She’s never been less sure that this whole situation is only going to get worse and she hates it.

“Sure, I’ll take a ride, I was just about to pack up anyway.” Astrid declines an immediate call back from Snotlout and texts Hiccup instead.

Astrid (5:21pm): how’d that go?

“Sweet, more time to get that number out of you,” Ruffnut grabs Astrid’s bag for her.

“Not a chance.”

[atombombbagel]

Everyone’s got some mouthy thing to say about lock picking, whether owned or unowned, so.... Sole gets tired of their companions sassing about their skill, and decides to do something about it.... like handcuffing one arm to whatever is available and giving them incentive to lockpick themself out of it. NSFW, SFW, both, idc. I just always sass back, especially with MacCready when he puts his two cents in.

Soo, I looked this up onthe ol’ Youtube and I found that everyone except MacCready and Cait has somethingnice to say, and they aren’t really rude about it. Anddd, I found that everyoneis pretty okay with Sole hacking terminals except Deacon. So I have only includedthe companions I think sass and are frankly rude to Sole the most. (I couldn’t find them saying anything about owned locks and I wouldn’t be able to say without playing the game and taking the companions with me, like each of them and who has the time… so I hope you’ll be okay with the ones I have included and pls forgive me D:) 

Cait: Solekneeled on the ground, grabbing a bobby pin from their pocket and jamming it anda screwdriver in the lock. Cait stood behind them and crossed her arms over herchest as she impatiently waited for Sole to unlock the door.

“would ya hurry it up, I’m startin’ ta get bored,” Cait sassed,looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was coming by. Not that she cared ifanyone did. Sole let Cait’s comment roll over their head, instead focusing onthe lock, twisting the bobby pin until they heard it click into place.

“Got it,” Sole said standing up and putting the bobby pinand screwdriver back into their pouch. (like seriously, where does this stuffgo?)

“Took you long enough,” Cait replied wittily, pushing pastSole and walking through the door. Sole followed her in and quietly closed thedoor behind them. Sole followed Cait who was rummaging around in a walk incloset and Sole saw the key jutting out of the lock. That’s when an idea poppedinto their mind. A devious smirk spread on Sole’s face as they quickly shut thecloset and locked the door, Cait still inside.

“What are ya doin’?” Cait yelled, pulling at the doorknob asshe tried to force her way out of the closet, “Sole, let me the fuck outta herenow!” she slammed her fists against the door. Sole slid a bobby pin and a smallscrew driver under the door.

“You think you’re sooo good at lockpicking, get yourself out,”Sole laughed and Cait huffed from behind the door. She picked the bobby pin andthe screwdriver up from the ground and stuck them in the lock. She then leaneddown at eyelevel, not that she could see anything, the closet was dark as fuck.

Five minutes had past and Cait was still fumbling aroundwith the lock, trying and desperately failing, to get it open. Sole smiled whenshe slid the lockpicking tools back under the door and then hit her fistsagainst the door to get Sole’s attention.

“I give up, ya win,” she sighed with a hint of a shout inher voice. Sole got up and unlocked the door letting Cait out, “I won’tquestion your skills again alright?”

“Good,” Sole simply said as they moved towards the exit, “coming?”Cait rolled her eyes as she followed Sole out the door. She now thought twiceabout sassing Sole about lockpicking that was until she came up with a revengeplan. That was going to be good.

Deacon: Sole hadopened the first terminal to get them inside the sealed off room and theyinsisted on unlocking this one. Deacon muttered something along the lines of ‘youneed some practise’. Sole tapped away at the keyboard on the terminal, beforesighing when they clicked another wrong password. Again. And what they didn’t needwas Deacon snickering away behind them every time they got it wrong.

“You done with that yet?” Deacon asked with a laugh. Sole rolledtheir eyes as they focused on figuring out this stupid terminal password. Solecrossed their fingers as they used their remaining guess on a random word.

“I’m in,” Sole mentally high fived themselves as they lookedthrough the important entries on the terminal.

“Its about time,” Deacon leaned over Sole’s shoulder as hiseyes scanned the words in front of him. He handed Sole a holotape so they couldtransfer the important data they needed onto it, like Desdemona had orderedthem to do. Sole quickly got up and walked out of the room, closing the door onDeacon. He cocked an eyebrow as he watched Sole used the terminal to lockDeacon inside the room.

“Seriously?” he asked, pulling on the door handle in an attemptto open it. Sole poked their tongue out at him through the small glass windowon the door and Deacon laughed at their pettiness. Deacon moved to the terminalbeside the door, tapping a few buttons before the door unlocked and he openedit.

“Damn it,” Sole muttered as Deacon strode past them nonchalantly.

“You can’t lock out the master, well, in this case lock in,”he pulled down his sunglasses and winked at Sole, making them huff and crosstheir arms in front of their chest. Their first attempt may have failed butthey swore they’d make egg boy pay for being a sassy little prick.

MacCready: Solehuffed as they snapped another bobby pin, tossing it to the ground as theypulled another one out of the tin they kept them in. Sole was muttering utternonsense to themselves as they tried to unlock the yellow ammo box they’d found.

“C’mon little lock, open for me,” Sole whispered to the box,twisting the bobby pin in the lock, sighing in relief when the lock clickedopen.

“Nice job, but can you do it blindfolded?” MacCready quipped,leaning down beside Sole as they both rummaged through the box. MacCready calleddibs on boxes of .308 ammo in the box, picking them up and stuffing the smallboxes into his pockets. Sole pretended to ignore his snide comment, focusing onraiding this old storage room, but they couldn’t ignore it. Not this time.

Back at Sole’s house MacCready sat back on Sole’s bed, watchingas they organised some of the stuff they’d collected during the day.

“I could give you some tips,” MacCready said, leaning his handsbehind his head, “Yano, picking locks,” he added, making Sole turn and look athim. With a smile planted firmly on Sole’s face, they stalked towards him,grabbing his arm and handcuffing it to the bed. His eyes widened as he struggledagainst the piece of metal wrapped around his wrist, “what are you doing?” hestuttered, continuing to pull on the cuffs. Sole ignored him, grabbing an oldtie which they wrapped around MacCready’s eyes.

“Go on then, show me how its done, o master,” Sole mocked, puttinga bobby pin and a screwdriver in MacCready’s free hand, “Don’t worry I’ve gotmy note book so I can take notes,” Sole sat down on the edge of the bed andcrossed their legs, sitting in the direction of MacCready. He stayed silent. “Don’ttell me you can’t do it? I thought you were the best,”

“Alright Sole, I getit,” he said, pulling at the cuff once again, “you can let me out now,”

“But I don’t think I’m equipped to unlock a difficult lock likethat,” Sole got back up, moving over to where MacCready was hopelessly trapped,“guess you’re stuck like that,” Sole tapped MacCready’s face and laughed,making him sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he said through gritted teeth, annoyed that hisown words had come back to bite him in the ass, “Please unlock this,” he saidreferring to the handcuff, tearing into his wrist the more he tugged on it. Solequickly unlocked the handcuffs and put them on the table. MacCready took offthe blindfold and rubbed the red ring around his wrist.

“That’ll teach ya,” Sole joked making MacCready look down.He nodded slowly and that only made Sole laugh more.

“I won’t do it again,” he pouted like a child. Sole lookedat him and put their hands on their waist. He huffed, “I promise,”

“Good,” Sole said with a ridiculously sweet smile. MacCreadyhuffed again, crossing his arms over his chest as he sulked to himself. Sole shooktheir head. He was such a child, can’t take what he gives, well. He deserved abit of payback.

Bonus! Strong: Solecarefully wiggled the bobby pin in their hands in the lock, twisting it inunison with their screwdriver, perfectly opening the locked door before them.

“Stop fiddling, just smash!” Strong shouted, quite annoyedthat Sole was messing around with a door. He couldn’t understand why they wouldwaste their time with trying to unlock the door, when they could just smash it open.In Strong’s eyes, his way was quicker and messier, just the way he liked it…(xD)

“Alright Strong, that’s the last lock I promise,” Sole said,pushing through the doorway, into the supply cupboard. Strong groaned as hewaited for Sole to be done with looking through the garbage, picking up acouple of wonderglues and putting them in their pocket. Sole took a deep breathas they tried not to snap at the Super mutant and his impatience.

“Strong not see the point!” he declared and Sole shot upfrom the draw they were looking in, pushing past strong and locking the doorbehind them. Strong hit the door with his giant green fist, “Strong cant findmilk of human kindness from in here!” he roared before he put his fist throughthe door. Sole stumbled back as Strong forced himself through the door, hisshoulder splintering what was left of the wooden door.

“We should get moving then,” Sole quickly said and Strong glaredat them as he grunted in approval. Sole made the mental note to never lockStrong in a room again, the experience wasn’t worth it.

[marypsue]

Something Borrowed, Something Blues 5 / ?

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / ?

I’m also on AO3 as MaryPSue!

...

When Ian woke up, the other side of the bed was empty.

The covers were all rumpled and pushed down to the foot of the bed, the blue light on the coffeemaker was on, and the window was forced wider than it had been last night, wide enough to blow the curtains out into the room like a couple of very ugly snot-green-damask ghosts. Somehow, it was still unbearably hot in the room.

Ian patted the mattress beside him, but it was only about as warm as the rest of the room. He couldn't tell how long Mira must have been up before he was.

Ian pulled the pillow over his head and pressed his face into the mattress. The radiator's rattle was muffled, but he could still hear it, drumming out a syncopated rhythm. Every so often, a beat would turn into a hiss, and Ian held his breath until the next clunk or pop finally came.

He wasn't getting back to sleep. And he wasn't thinking of anything brilliant and beautiful and meaningful and human to say to his girlfriend when she became his wife. And it was way too hot under this pillow. 

Finally, Ian shoved the pillow off his head with a sigh, sucking in a long breath of fresh, relatively cool air. He lay still for a moment, bracing himself, before letting his arms, then his legs flop over the side of the bed.

The bathroom door was closed, so Ian started to pull on his clothes, thankfully (and maybe magically) dry after last night's hasty hand-wash in the tub. The coffeemaker turned out to be covered in buttons, all of which had little iconographic symbols on them, none of which seemed to correspond to the prompts on the device's tiny LCD screen. Ian jabbed at buttons at random until the screen froze, and then gave up.

"I'm gonna run down to the lobby and see if they have coffee," Ian said, rapping on the bathroom door. "You want any?"

There was no answer.

Ian gave the door another, harder knock. "Mira? You all right in -"

The bathroom door swung open under Ian's hand. The lights were off, and the room beyond was empty.

"Seriously?" Ian asked the empty hotel room. He cast around for a minute, before finding his phone in his back pocket, and fired off a text to Mira.

hey early bird, where r u?

He waited a few minutes, leaning against the doorframe, but didn't get a reply. Ian sighed, stuffing his phone back into his pocket.

"Coffee first," he said, out loud, for no real reason than to hear a human voice in the hotel room, which, even with the clunks and rattles of the radiator, suddenly seemed unusually quiet. "Then whatever this is. But coffee first."

...

There wasn't, as it turned out, coffee in the lobby. Ian had to go into the restaurant attached to the hotel and actually order one. And at that point, he might as well just order breakfast too. Ian texted Mira to meet him at the restaurant or miss out on waffles, and then turned all his attention to his breakfast, resolutely ignoring the little sliver of worry building in the back of his mind. Alcor hadn't been hanging around annoying Ian, either. This wasn't the first time they'd disappeared on a cult bash or something without leaving so much as a note. Ian briefly entertained a thought of Mira showing up at the front desk of their hotel covered head to toe in blood. He wondered if that would get a reaction out of the front desk clerk.

Besides, there were all kinds of mundane reasons she might be gone. Maybe she was scouting out an officiant or a location for their hasty nuptials. Maybe Alcor had popped her over to Japan to pick up her wedding dress. Maybe she'd just gone out for breakfast with Rosa or Sun-mi. It wasn't usual for her not to text him back, but maybe she was just having such a good time that she'd forgotten to check her phone.

Mira hadn't decided that the whole idea of marrying him was cursed and backed out at the last minute. She wouldn't. At least, she wouldn't without telling him.

The waffles were delicious. Mira didn't show up.

...

The construction site was in an uproar when Sun-mi arrived. Apparently, a wizard had been in the day before to inspect the cave, but hadn't left any official record of the investigation and nobody could figure out who he worked for. To make matters worse, the wizard who had been called in had arrived to do the inspection, been told his services wouldn't be necessary because one of his colleagues had already been there, and had left annoyed. The upshot of all this, Sun-mi gathered from the information the site overseer spewed at her at top speed, was that it would be another few days or even a week before they'd have a solid assessment of whether and how they could start work again.

"Fucking ridiculous," the overseer complained, as she lifted the orange tape cordoning off the cave for Sun-mi to step under. "And now we've got press. Wonder what else can go wrong here. Maybe we'll have a surprise inspection, who knows."

Sun-mi offered an apologetic smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to focus much on the overseer’s litany of complaints. The hole in the side of the cliff consumed all her attention, drawing her eye like a black hole drawing light. There was something about the sight of it that unsettled her, a strange feeling she couldn’t quite put a name to, somewhere between enchantment and dread.

The overseer must have noticed where Sun-mi’s eyes went, because she cleared her throat, and Sun-mi realised she’d been quiet for a while. “Well, there it is. Never knew a hole in the ground could be such an almighty pain in the ass.”

Sun-mi had just enough presence of mind to pull out her phone and snap a few pictures of the construction site, the hole stark black and unnervingly out of place in its aggressively mundane setting.

“Guess you’ll be wanting a tour next,” the overseer said, a note of frustration in her voice.

“If at all possible,” Sun-mi agreed.

“It isn’t. Our wizard inspector was a fraud, we got no guarantee it won’t all collapse on top of you. Or turn you into a newt.” There was a relish in the overseer’s voice that made Sun-mi sure she was finally seeing a silver lining in her wizard problem. “You could try coming back later, but like I said, it could be a week before we can get somebody in here to look at it.”

“Oh,” Sun-mi said. She glanced over at the hole again, and tried to convince herself she was more disappointed than relieved. “That’s too bad.”

“Not that I care if you get turned into a newt,” the overseer said, without malice. “Damn reporters. Just one more thing I don’t need right now.”

“I’ll try not to take up too much of your time,” Sun-mi promised. “So how was this discovery made?”

“Marybeth!”

The voice made both Sun-mi and the overseer start, the overseer turning to face the approaching newcomers. Sun-mi glanced over her shoulder, but didn’t turn. There was something about the hole leading into the cliff that made her not want to turn her back on it.

The young man who skidded to a halt just outside the barrier of orange tape was breathing hard, but beaming. He waved the person who was following a little ways behind him forwards, but didn’t wait for them to catch up or even check to make sure they were following. “Marybeth! I found the wizard!”

“What?” the overseer - Marybeth - asked, looking over the young man’s shoulder at the person following him, and then let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, no. Rashid, that’s not -”

“No, no, the wizard we sent away yesterday!” Rashid gasped, seemingly starting to recover his breath after his mad dash. “He was still in town, he stayed the night, I caught him at the diner having breakfast and he’ll do the inspection for us now.” He beamed.

The overseer - Marybeth - didn’t look particularly impressed by this, but Sun-mi caught the shadow of a smile crossing her broad features. Sun-mi herself felt a flutter of excited apprehension at the news, and stole another glance at the cave. It hadn’t moved.

“For a hundred-dollar call-out fee,” the wizard interrupted, ambling up behind Rashid. Sun-mi took a moment to look him over. He didn’t look much older than she was, wiry and insubstantial, but there was a certain cast to his expression, a shadow of disdainful superiority, that she disliked instantly. “And travel expenses paid. I don’t like getting jerked around like this.”

“None of us do,” the overseer said shortly. “When I catch that so-called wizard...” She cleared her throat into her fist, letting the rest of the sentence dangle like a sword suspended in the air overhead.

“Whatever,” the wizard said, clearly not interested. “Are we doing this thing, or are we standing around here talking all day? My time is valuable.”

The overseer rolled her eyes, but stepped around Sun-mi, lifting the orange tape with a wordlessly-raised eyebrow. The wizard attempted to duck under it with dignified grace, and only half succeeded. He brushed simulcrete dust from his black dress pants, taking the yellow hard hat that Rashid offered and clearing his throat pompously before putting it on. A snap of his fingers, and a ball of bluish light appeared hovering just above his head. Another snap, and a tablet and stylus appeared in his hands with a small thunderclap of displaced air.

“Cool. Let’s get this over with,” he said, affected boredom filling his voice, and turned, walking fast into the black hole sinking into the base of the cliff. His light illuminated the cave around and a little ahead of him, rough rock and dangling stalactites gleaming wet in the dimness. After he’d taken a few steps and nothing had fallen on him or turned him into a newt, the overseer and Rashid followed him.

After a moment’s hesitation, fighting off a sudden and inexplicable reluctance, Sun-mi hurried after them.

...

Finally, finally, after what felt like hours and might actually have been, Ian's phone dinged. He nearly dropped it, fumbling to get it out of his pocket, but the message wasn't from Mira.

Ian let out a sigh as he tapped out a response to Rosa's complaint. If she was already so bored, then why had she bothered coming to town so early in the first place? He knew, of course, it was probably because of ancient demon magic, but still.

Stars, was there even anything left in his life anymore that wasn't because of ancient demon magic? Had there ever been? Even trying to get away from it had just brought him straight into the middle of another mess that had probably been set in motion centuries before he was even born, and Ian was sick and tired of it. Just once, he wanted to make a decision and be sure it was his idea, and only his idea. And that it wasn't going to bring about the end of the world.

His phone dinged again, and Ian sighed. He also wished Mira would start leaving a note or something when she had to go out on cult-bashes and other dark and terrible Mizar errands, like getting milk. He couldn't even lay the blame for this one on Alcor being petty, Mira just had her mind elsewhere half the time. She'd come back bursting with stories and he'd ask her, again, to let him know when she was going to need to disappear with no warning for several hours, and she'd very solemnly promise never the let it happen again. The very next time she had to go out, she'd leave a note, or text him. Then she'd forget all over again and they'd have to start over from the beginning.

Ian opened his new message. Rosa wanted to know if he could meet up to do something entertaining. Ian huffed out a sigh, and sent back a text telling her to meet him at the hotel in ten minutes.

Rosa was there in fifteen, with a holographic lipstick and a very pissed-off expression on her face. She stomped up to the door of the restaurant, slamming it open and throwing herself into the seat across from Ian.

"Transportation in this place!" she huffed, bringing up the menu on the tablet surface under the table glass. "You know I had to walk here?"

"The hardship," Ian said, and Rosa's eyes flicked up to shoot him a glare under her brows.

"I'm a celebrity, B- Ian. I don't walk places." She didn't seem to be able to completely wrestle down the smile, and quickly turned back to the tablet. "Tell me this place does a decent caramel macchiato."

"Don't know, haven't tried it," Ian said, and Rosa looked up, frowning.

"Where's Mira? What're you doin' eating breakfast so late, anyway? Aren't you two gettin' married today?"

Ian leaned his chin in one hand. "I'm actually not sure."

Rosa's eyes went wide and almost perfectly round, and she clapped a hand to her rosebud mouth. Ian groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"Beale," Rosa hissed. 

"Look, just don't ask, okay? I don't know, and I'm trying not to worry about it."

"Do you even know where she is?" Rosa demanded, poking Ian in the shoulder, hard. Ian shook his head, without removing his face from his hands. Rosa's gasp was audible. "Ian Thomas Beale! Why didn't ya call me right away? What the hell happened? Did y'all have a fight?"

"This is why I didn't call you," Ian groaned, finally lifting his head from his hands. Rosa paused mid-poke, but the look on her face said clearly that she'd gladly complete it if Ian said anything stupid. "Because I knew you'd worry, and make a big deal out of it, when I don't even know for sure that anything's wrong. It's probably just -" He paused, significantly, meeting Rosa's eyes like that might help her pick up on his meaning. " 'Tyrone' business."

A frown creased Rosa's forehead. "What, that skinny nerd y'all had with ya at the coffeeshop yesterday? Who is he, anyway? Mira ain't never mentioned anybody named Tyrone before, but she said she'd known him since - oh." Her eyes went wide all over again, though thankfully not in worry and outrage this time. "Ohhhh. Y'mean that was -"

"Shhhhhh," Ian said, leaning across the table to press a hand over Rosa's mouth before she could finish the sentence. Rosa's eyes narrowed, and something slimy and warm that could only be her tongue swept over Ian's palm. He yanked his hand back, wiping it hastily on his pants. "Okay, you're disgusting, but yeah. That's him, and I haven't seen him all morning either. They're probably just off together, doing - that thing they do."

Rosa batted her eyes innocently. "Disgustin'? That there's a perfectly natural bodily function."

"Just what I said. Disgusting." Ian gave up wiping his hand on his pants. "You know what, I'm going to the bathroom. Gotta wash the digestive enzymes off my hands."

"There aren't digestive enzymes in spit," Rosa scoffed, but she looked perturbed. Ian gave her his best, most perturbing grin.

"Wanna bet?" He pushed himself up from his chair, leaning across the table to rub the palm she'd licked on Rosa's rosy cheek before walking away from the table towards the bathroom.

Behind him, he heard Rosa make a little strangled noise, and then scrabble for the napkins.

...

The sunlight at the end of the tunnel was the most beautiful thing Sun-mi had ever seen. She stumbled towards it, bashing her knee against a stalagmite as she went. She barely noticed.

The air outside was fresh and warm and faintly pine-scented, a welcome relief from the stifling air in the cave. It had started out cold, like a mausoleum, in the tunnel leading through the rock, but the cavern at the end -

Sun-mi sucked in a long, deep breath of fresh air, leaning heavily against one of the stakes holding the orange tape in place around the cave.

"Hey, are you all right?" Rashid's voice called from behind her, and Sun-mi half-turned. Just the sight of the cave mouth, black and hungry, sent a fresh wave of sick terror through her. Out here in the sunlight, with the normal sounds of life all around her, it wasn't quite the all-consuming, driving force that it had been underground, but a shiver still ran through her at the sight of it.

"Seal it back up," Sun-mi rasped, a little astonished by the sound of her own voice and by the words coming out of her mouth. She deliberately shut her mouth and swallowed, trying to get the feeling of sandpaper out of her throat. "Nobody should be in there. Nobody should see that. It should be lost and forgotten forever. Seal it back up."

"That's what we want to do," the overseer said, emerging from that black hole in the side of the cliff. Her voice was as gruff and as unbothered as ever, but she crouched down next to Sun-mi (when had Sun-mi sat down? She wasn't sure) and put a broad hand on her shoulder. "You aren't some kinda psychic sensitive or something, are you?"

Sun-mi shook her head no. The strange terror that had seized her when she'd laid eyes on that cave painting of the wheel was starting, slowly, to fade, and she felt more and more embarrassed of her reaction with every passing second. When she tried to stand up, though, her knees still felt like they were made of very weak springs, wobbling in unpredictable directions and threatening to collapse at any moment. She sat back down on the dirt pile, silently mourning her pencil skirt.

"You have any idea what happened down there?" the overseer asked, almost kindly, and Sun-mi shook her head again. She should have brushed the woman's hand aside, should have composed herself and regained control of the situation, but - there was something very comforting about the hand on her shoulder.

The overseer and Rashid shared a look.

"Rashid, get back down there and make sure the wizard doesn't disappear," the overseer said, finally, before turning back to Sun-mi. "You got a friend or somebody I can call to come pick you up?" she asked. "I don't think you should go down there again."

Sun-mi started to shake her head no, again, but then remembered.

"I - I can call my friend Mira," she said. "I'm sorry about what I said, I don't know what came over me. Obviously that cave is a vitally important archaeological find, it would make no sense to seal it up again now that it's been found."

The overseer shrugged one shoulder. "It does if you're planning to build a tourist trap on top of it. Give your friend a call. I'll sit with you until she gets here."

"Thank you," Sun-mi said, and the overseer nodded.

"But we're not sitting on this dirt. Think you can make it over to the site office?"

...

Ian looked at his face in the mirror, and sighed.

The cold water tap took a couple of solid yanks, but finally it turned in his hand. The faucet shuddered, and then belched up a flood of icy water. Ian stared at it. It was brown.

"Hotel that's hundreds of years old, in the middle of a national park," Ian reminded himself, before leaning over to splash cold water over his face. It didn't exactly help, but it did make the buzzing restlessness of anxiety a little easier to ignore. It was fine. It was fine. The hotel probably drew its water from a well, and Mira was fine, she was with Alcor -

Ian straightened up, groping for a towel to dry his face, and saw Alcor's face reflected in the mirror just behind his right shoulder.

Ian swore, spinning around with his arm raised to hit the demon before he even really knew what was happening. Alcor yelled too, flailing backwards, and there was a confused moment before Alcor slipped on the tile floor and went flying into one of the stalls headfirst. There was a splash, and a gurgle, and Alcor emerged a second later, glowering up at his dripping hair until it dried, seemingly from the heat of sheer embarrassment. 

"Not one word," he grumbled to Ian, who had pressed a hand over his mouth to hold back the snicker.

"You have got to stop popping up behind me in mirrors like that," Ian said, in return.

“Maybe when your reactions stop being hilarious,” Alcor said, putting his pinkie into one ear and wiggling it around. When he pulled it out, a small waterspout shot out of his ear and splashed onto the tiles. Ian noticed that he hadn’t bothered to put on his ‘Tyrone’ body again. “How’s Mira doing? Did you guys finally settle on a venue?”

Alcor suddenly seemed very far away, down the end of a long tunnel. “I don’t know,” Ian said, but he could barely hear his own words over the hollow ringing that grew in his ears. “I haven’t seen her this morning. I thought she was with you.”

Alcor stared. “I thought she was with you.”

Ian’s limbs suddenly felt as though they were both leaden and light enough to drift off and float away. “It’s okay,” he heard himself saying, as if from behind a thick glass wall. “Maybe Rosa’s seen her. Or - maybe she’s with her other friend, Sun-mi -”

As if on cue, Ian’s phone started to ring. Ian and Alcor both stared at it, blank, for a long moment, before Ian finally picked the call up. “Hello?”

“Ian?” Sun-mi’s voice blasted out of the speaker. Ian winced. He’d forgotten he’d had the sound all the way up to play jazz in the kitchen two nights ago. “I’ve been calling Mira and she isn’t picking up - is she with you? Would you two come and pick me up?”

Ian and Alcor locked eyes over the phone’s glowing screen.

“You go get her,” Alcor said, finally. “I should be able to find Mira, wherever she is.”

“Hello?” Sun-mi’s voice echoed out of the phone speaker. “Who is that?”

“Mira’s friend Tyrone,” Ian said, hurriedly. “Look, I’ll pick you up. Where are you?”

“Do you not know where Mira is?” Sun-mi asked, and now she sounded anxious. Ian wasn’t sure if he’d ever heard her sound anxious before. As far as he knew, she had two modes: suspicious and sarcastic. “Please tell me you know where Mira is. I have -” She stopped, cleared her throat, and continued, sounding sheepish, almost like she was embarrassed of the words coming out of her own mouth. “A really bad feeling.”

“Me too,” Ian answered, honestly. “We’ll figure it out. Where do you want me to pick you up?”

[queennicoleinboots]

Joebear Laughs While Peter Beats The Shit Out of His Computer

A/N: Jokes against gay people, a lot of rage, computer destruction, lots of swearing, also written February 26, 2019 (going back in time and describing why Peter has bad luck with anything technological)

TL;DR: Joebear and I Laugh Hysterically while Peter literally beats the shit out of his computer in the front yard.

As I was cleaning Peter's house as usual, I heard him swearing at his computer as he has been for the past month now. I was on the phone with my husband, Joebear, and we were laughing our asses off. Joebear could barely breathe. He was using his high-pitched quick laugh as he was crying. I had the phone on speaker while we listened to Peter swear at his computer.

"Goddammit. Why the fuck won't this damn attachment send over? The fuck is wrong with this E-mail?!" Peter would yell.

Joebear and I couldn't help but crack up at him. My lungs were worn out from all the laughing at him I have done for the past two years.

Joebear commented with a laugh, "He sounds like he has a mentally-challenged computer and needs help with his brain."

Peter yelled to Joebear. "All true! This is bullshit!"

We cracked up and then continued on with our day. Joebear was playing "Hobos and Dawgs" by our favorite nerd rap artist, DarthSydePhineas.

"Damn! Damn! DamnDamnDamn! Hobos and Dawgs! Damn! Damn! DamnDamnDamn! Hobos and Dawgs! I need a hobo or a dawg, not you. Then I can go back to class! I need pictures! Where the fuck are they? I need to find a hobo or a dog. I need to find a hobo or a dog. This is bullshit! This is bullshit!" I rapped along.

"Fucking hell. If you are going to make technology, at least make it work correctly. What the fuck is the point?" Peter would continually rant at least 15 times a day. I laughed every time without fail. Godiva would just roll her eyes and ignore the bullshit in her son's office. Jamie would interrupt him from his swearing to do more random chores. Interruptions did not help Peter's already fucked-up mood.

Other times, Joe and I would sing along to DarthSydePhineas's "I AM FUCKING SONIC!" while Peter would be doing chores, and I would clean his house.

"I am fucking Sonic. And you can't fuck with me now. I am a fucking hedgehog! And I have spikes on my back! Oh shit!" Joebear and I would sing.

"Okay. I tried to send this fucker three times. Let me break this file down... AGAIN!!! SIIIIIIGHH!!!" Peter would say at least five times a day. The poor bastard just wanted to publish his novels and send them to every literary agent in the world. Whenever he said this rant, I was on the floor laughing every time while Joebear would try to help him break the file down. Joebear was a computer whiz. Peter was technologically-challenged. Joebear and I had a good laugh. Peter was pissed.

"Yes. I typed Artie Wonderbloom and The Green Goblin and Artie Wonderbloom and The Yellow Brick Road at least 20 times today. The fuck else did I write that I am trying to publish? I already published 20 screenplays. Let's move on with my life PLEASE!!!! SIGH! Fuck off. Where is the auto fill?" Peter would rant. "I published 20 screenplays and am trying to publish two novels. Why the fuck am I still doing DRYWALL? Because of the ever-failing healthcare AND insurance system in America and INFLATION! Fuck this world!" This rant happened at least once a day. This rant also made Joebear and me belly-laugh without sound. "Unbelievable. I was a porn star in my time. I wrote screen plays. I am writing two novels. Blood, sweat, and tears. Lots and lots of tears! Why the ACTUAL fuck am I broke? Because America. Because Republicans! Fuck. My. Life."

Joebear and I would cry laughing at this particular rant. We agreed. It was bullshit that even if you made over $50,000 a year, you were still fucking broke. That's why Joebear and I do our own business. We hate answering to people for no apparent reason.

Today, we felt more sympathetic for our tall, technologically-challenged friend than we usually did. I went over to poke him on the shoulder repeatedly. The poor bastard looked like he was about to cry.

"I have tried three times. Three fucking times. To format this goddamn E-mail correctly. These literary agents are pretentious, picky, self-centered pieces of dog shit. They have so so many fucking rules. It's their way or fuck you. Sigh. I should have been a literary agent. It would definitely help me make more money. If I knew how to be a literary agent, I'd do it. It would also relieve frustration, stress, and anxiety to tell other writers to fuck off if they so much as miss a comma! Fuck. These. Goddamn. People. I want to E-mail them and tell them exactly what the fuck I think!" Peter ranted with his trademark sigh.

Joebear and I laughed again.

"You need a new E-mail client. Comcrap is a piece of dog shit. Also, you do have a knack for missing commas. Your writing is amazing, but you forget commas like you forget everything else. Your memory sucks ass," I said.

"He uses Comcrap? No wonder!" Joebear chimed in.

"I know it!" Peter said as he accented his Southern accent. "You guys use G-mail, right?"

"Yes. XaraNCampanelli@gmail.com," I answered.

"How the fuck do you set up a G-mail account?" he asked.

Joebear sighed. "Xara. Help him please. I'm going to have a bowel movement now. I shall return," he said.

"Enjoy thy shit," I said to Joebear before I answered Peter. "Go to www.gmail.com."

He was typing the address into the Google search engine.

"Okay. Go to G-mail.com," I said.

He clicked the link.

"Now go to 'create account'," I said.

Peter clicked the link. "So I just fill this shit out, right?"

"Yes, Pete," I said.

He put his first name as Peter and last name as Awkward. G-mail suggested that his E-mail be PeterAwkward8@gmail.com.

"Sounds about right. You act like an eight-year-old," I said with a shrug.

"Works for me," he said with a grin. He now had an E-mail address of PeterAwkward8@gmail.com. His other one was SuperCopingMan@comcrap.net. He was also a super hero until last year when he had a mental breakdown and didn't feel like coping with being stuck in drywall, exploding cars, toilet gardens, Pennywise the Dancing Clown, naked neighbors, or birthday parties that went to shit because someone forgot the alcohol.

We continued to set up his G-mail account until he asked me what theme I thought he liked. I was sorry to say, but there was a serene purple scene with lilies in the background that I knew he liked. But it was too feminine. I saw Peter as a manly boy, a guy who liked trees, leaves, and old houses built in the 1800s. I was not going to stand for him to pick something so feminine. I guessed the leaf theme.

"Ugh. No. Too typical. Try again," he said.

"How about the woods?" I asked.

"Oh God. Everyone picks that!" Peter exclaimed.

"I don't. I made a custom black, purple, and white theme to describe my dark nature," I said.

He blinked and made a "taken-aback" face with an added shudder. "Well, I like the black theme, too, but that's too obvious," he said.

"How about the rainbow-colored fish one?" I asked.

"Okay. Stop picking what I *should* like and pick what I *know* I like," Peter said.

I sighed. "Peter, don't pick that purple one..." I said.

Joebear returned to the phone after a quick bowel movement. "So where are we in setting up the E-mail?" he asked.

"Peter picked a purple theme for his new G-mail account," I said.

"You know it!" Peter said with a smile.

"Peter, that's gay," I said.

"Oh my God. That's a faggot thing to do," Joebear said with a laugh.

"What? I like purple. And as I recall, Joebear, you like purple, too," he said as he picked the purple theme.

"Yeah, but I don't pick an overly purple theme! I'm not a faggot" he said.

Peter snickered. "Are you sure about that?" he asked.

"Yeah, dude. I'm pretty sure I'm not gay," Joebear said with an added "durrr!" at the end.

"Well, you liked purple, and you called me a faggot, so I had to ask," Peter responded.

"Oh God, Peter," I said and laughed. I went back to work for a bit to try to stop laughing at Peter. "You're such a girl!!!! You know what? I'm going to go ahead and buy you some eyeliner and lipstick. And maybe some new skinny jeans!"

Joebear and I cracked up at my remark. Peter snarled at us and continued to work on his computer.

"That's so gay," Joebear said and laughed. "Please don't do that seriously."

"I might," I said.

"Oh God! I'm done! Call me when something stupid happens!" Joebear said.

"Will do. Love you, bae!" I sang.

"Love you, too," he said as he made a dolphin sound.

I made a dolphin sound in return. He hung up the phone.

A few minutes later, I heard a few autistic growls emanating from Peter. He had Asperger's Syndrome, but no one told him yet. I laughed. His mom couldn't help but giggle and shake her head. She was so done with his shit that day. I could tell.

I called Joebear.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Bae, something stupid happened," I said.

"What now?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said as I put my phone on speaker. "I'Il find out." I went over to Peter and patted his shoulder.

"I tried to send this E-mail three goddamn times! Three! Now four! Christ, I can't count!" Peter said as he growled.

"Oh God!" Joebear said as he giggled.

"Maybe you put in the wrong E-mail address," I said.

"Maybe the first time, but I double-checked the website and double-checked my clipboard and everything was fine," he said loudly.

"Maybe the website had the wrong E-mail address," I said.

"No! I went to Donald K. Fulton's WEBSITE ITSELF. That's the literary agent! I took the damn E-mail straight from the damn website and copied it into the damn recipient's box on the goddamn E-mail!" Peter said as he started foaming at the mouth.

"Donald K. Fulton sounds like a faggot's name," Joebear said.

"It is. This guy is a *real* faggot. I hope this faggot accepts my story," Peter said.

The tune, "I Spawn, I Die," by DarthSydePhineas was in the background.

"Dude, have you ever thought that maybe you're just bad with computers?" I said humorously to Peter.

"Not only that, BUT I'M CURSED!!!!!!" Peter yelled as he grabbed his monitor by the sides and stared intently at it with rage. Then he calmed down just for a moment and smiled. "Sometimes these websites just aren't designed very well!"

I laughed. "Because they were designed by Americans."

"Yeah, Americans can't program worth a shit," Joebear added before he sung a mock version of 'I Spawn, I Die.' "They spawn, they die. They spawn, they die. Every mother fucker has stupid E-mails. Every mother fucker has stupid E-mails. D-D-D-D-D-Dumbasses! D-D-D-D-D-Dumbasses!"

"Oh God! Everything with you guys is racist!" Peter said as he rolled his eyes. "How do you refresh the page?"

"Press F5 on the top of your keyboard, you Old Fuck," I said with a giggle.

Joebear snickered at me. "WOW!" he said with a high-pitched quick laugh.

Peter was 54. I was 30. Joebear was 39. And Peter was bad with computers. I was going to call Peter an Old Fuck.

"The fuck did you just call me?" Peter asked as he pressed F5 and turned his face toward me.

"An Old Fuck. You're 54 and are terrible with computers!" I yelled.

"Oh fuck off. You're as bad as these terribly CONFIGURATED web sites!" he said as he flicked me off.

"If we were in Korea, our websites wouldn't be fucked up," Joebear said. "Americans are just STUPID with programming. You need help, Peter?"

"Yes," he answered. "But not before I beat this computer into submission. I haven't tried that yet!" All of a sudden, Peter rose and punched his monitor in the face. "How do you like that?" He kicked the computer desk. "That's what I think of you, you piece of shit!"

Joebear and I cracked up.

"Really? You beat the computer? How is that going to help?" Joebear said as he cracked up. "Oh God."

"This computer cannot be helped," Peter said before he turned off his tablet kindly. He then opened his window. He turned off the computer. "Thank God I backed up all my shit up on a hard drive. Thank you, Joebear."

"You're welcome. What were you trying to do?" Joebear asked with a chuckle.

Peter then went into crying hysterics. "I just wanted to send my query letter to Donald K. Fulton. That's all. Is that too much to ask?" Peter cried.

"Dude, just send it as an attachment," Joebear said.

"No literary agent accepts attachments because trolls put bad stuff on them," Peter said as he was literally crying.

"Oh wow. Don't they have anticuck software to determine if the attachment is fucked?" Joebear asked.

"An anti-what?" Peter asked as he was sniffling.

"It's antivirus software and adblockers to determine whether your attachments are bullshit or not," I answered.

"I don't know, but I can't get this thing to send," Peter said.

"Fuck it. Try it again later," Joebear said.

"Good idea," Peter said with an evil smile. "I'll try it again WITH A NEW COMPUTER!" He then went ape shit on his computer all of a fucking sudden; he pounded on the sides of the monitor while grunting and swearing. He repeatedly kicked the fuck out of his computer and broke the monitor. "Fuck it! This computer is 10 years old. I am going to Microcenter in Duluth tomorrow to put my shit on a computer that actually fucking works! Fuck this piece of shit! Need to buy a new goddamn computer and need to bitch at these literary agents for being less computer savvy than I am. I'd like to beat the shit out of them." He suddenly threw his computer the fuck out of his window. "Aaaaagggfghhhhhhhhhh! Get the fuck out of here!!!! FUCK YOU YOU PIECE OF SHIT COMPUTER!!! FUCK THESE LITERARY AGENTS!"

Joebear was laughing hysterically over the phone. "WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!" He asked between laughs. "Okay. That happened. I wasn't expecting that! Wow!" He was crying with laughter. "Holy Cow!"

At this point, I really should be used to Peter's random autistic rages, but I found every single one of them hilarious. I just fucking laughed until my chest felt like exploding. My mouth was hurting from smiling too much out of laughter. I was beyond shocked when he threw his computer out of a window. I was in a ball and crying with laughter. What the fuck, Peter?

"What the fuck?!" Ted the Alligator yelled. "I can't even walk in people's front yard without getting shit thrown at me! Fuuucccck. I'm just trying to find something to fucking eat. I get a COMPUTER thrown at me? The fuck is wrong with this world?"

Joebear continued to sing a mock version of DarthSydePhineas's song, 'I Spawn, I Die.' "Can't stop killing it. Can't stop. Can't stop killing it. Don't how to stop! Can't stop killing it! Don't know how to stop!" He followed with a laughing fit.

When Ted was randomly in Peter's front yard, I was trying to hold my heart in my chest. I was having an autistic laughing fit. I was laughing without being able to breathe.

"What is going on? Is Peter fighting someone? What? Over a computer?" Joebear asked in disbelief and was chuckling.

"Yes. He is fighting with an alligator in his front yard. This shit is hilarious," I said while belly laughing.

"What? Is he Steve Erwin now?! I didn't know computer issues could have such an effect on mental stability," Joebear said while laughing.

"Why the fuck are you in my yard, Ted?! Jesus! Haven't you learned from the time I chased your ass with a chainsaw?" Peter yelled at him and was ready to throw the computer DESK at Ted.

"Nigga, I ain't even KNEW this was your yard. I normally come in the back yard. I didn't know this was YOUR front yard. Shit. The fuck you throwing your computer at me for?" Ted asked him and was ready to fuck up Peter.

Peter was holding his computer desk and ready to beat Ted with it. "I didn't know you were in my fucking yard!!! If I knew you were there, I would have beat you WITH my computer. Get the fuck out of my yard!" Peter screamed at him. "You're more of a piece of shit than my computer!" Peter made a stupid laugh after that last comment.

"Nigga, I swear to God I'mma fuck you up in your own house. Come at me, bro!" Ted screamed back at him. "I'm hungry and am in no mood for your BUULL SHIT!" Ted was slithering toward Peter. "Had enough of your damn shit!"

"Ted. Where you at?" Mr. Williamson's voice saved Peter's tall Irish ass.

Joebear and I were howling with laughter.

"Record this! Record this!" Joebear yelled.

"Will do," I said. "I'll send you the video when I finish with it!"

"Okay. Love you, bae," he said.

"Love you, too," I said. "I see you later."

He hung up, and I began to record these bums arguing.

"Man, this nigga threw a computer at me! I was tryna find something to eat and then this crazy man comes at me," Ted yelled.

"Your alligator is in my yard again! Get out of my yard! What? Is my yard a hangout or something? I've been through this five times! Can we please stop now?!" Peter yelled. "Excuse me. I need to beat the hell out of my computer. I gotta find a hammer." He then came in the house through the window to find a hammer.

I was recording Peter coming through the window before I turned my attention to Mr. Williamson.

"Come on Ted. This guy is off his rocker," Mr. Williamson said as he shook his head and cracked up.

[pftones3482]

Oceans Away

Also posted on my AO3 and Fanfiction accounts. Under a cut for length

~~~~~

“I cannot believe that you guys got me this gig!” Lance squealed, punching Hunk repeatedly in the arm as they waited for Pidge to talk to the bouncer. “Seriously, how awesome are you guys?”

“I’d be more awesome if I left with my arm intact, buddy.”

Lance grinned sheepishly and pulled his hand away, fiddling with the end of his shirt instead. “Sorry, Hunk. How do you and Pidge know about this place, anyway? I’ve never heard of-“ he squinted at the neon rainbow sign above them “-the ‘Voltron Lions’ before. It’s not a strip club, is it?”

“Lance, if this was a strip club, do you think I’d be wearing this?”

Hunk and Lance glanced up to see Pidge standing there, her brother Matt alongside her with an amused smile on his face. His arms were crossed over a plain black t-shirt that said “Hey Bartender” along the back, and he was wearing a pair of jeans and converse. Really, if Lance was being honest, the only sexy thing about the outfit was the way Matt’s biceps strained at the sleeves. “Dude, there are some people who would pay you to wear that for them. Got the whole ‘dark and dangerous’ look down.”

Matt rolled his eyes, having put up with Lance’s commentary since he was pre-pubescent. “Whatever. You want that gig or not? I convinced Allura that you were a good singer, and she’s taking my word on it. I don’t want to be out of a job if-”

“Hell yeah I’m up for it!” Lance yelped, leaning down and scrabbling with his guitar case. Hunk adjusted his grip on the cart that was tugging their equipment and they followed Matt and Pidge inside, nodding to the mustached bouncer as they passed. He gave Lance a smile, eyes twinkling almost dangerously, and Lance decided it was probably best not to tease the guy about his facial hair.

“Allura’s over there,” Matt said, pointing to the stage. A dark skinned young woman was bent over something, platinum white hair pulled back into a ponytail and hands clenched around a pair of pliers. “Our mic stand keeps slipping, so she’s trying to fix it.”

“I’ll go help her,” Pidge offered, darting away before anyone could argue.

Lance glanced around the room curiously while Matt led them to the back room that was used to store the band’s equipment when they had live music.

It was very clearly a nightclub that you had to hear about to get in, as there weren’t all that many people there yet. Granted it was only about 9:30, but still. The dance floor was checkered with red, black, and white tiles, and the floor was lit with yellow, blue, and green lights that flashed in time with the music. A couple of people hovered around the edges, like they wanted to dance but weren’t quite sure if it was socially acceptable yet.

The main dining area, or at least, the area with the most tables and booths, was decorated in a futuristic chrome-y way, strips of pink and pale orange running up and down the booths and the chairs decorated with the same colors over white fabric.

Lions were all over the place; stuffed lions, photos of lions, sculptures, statues, female, male. A few patrons that passed Lance held glasses with roaring lion heads etched into them.

“What’s with the lion theme?” Lance found himself asking.

Matt chuckled. “Allura’s father, who owned the place before her, was super into lions and lion conservation. He was a zookeeper before he opened here, if you’d believe that. Actually, all of our tips we get go to zoos that preserve the lion population.”

“That’s really cool,” Hunk noted. “So like, Asiatic lions, or-?”

Lance tuned them out, finding the bar in the center of the room and running his eyes appreciatively over the body of the other bartender there, his arms bulging even more than Matt’s and his low slung jeans clinging to a nicely sculpted-

“Lance?”

Lance whipped his head back to Matt, trying to pretend like he hadn’t just been glossing over his coworker. “Yeah?”

Matt gave a smirk, as if he knew exactly what Lance had been doing. “Here’s the room. Only Coran and Allura and I have keys to it, so your stuff will totally be safe.”

He followed Hunk into the room, stopping and glancing back at Matt as the man grabbed his elbow. “Shiro’s straight, by the way,” he whispered, his tone teasing. “Married to Allura, actually. Trust me, I tried that.”

Lance was certain he was the color of a tomato, but before he could protest, Matt continued. “His brother, though? Totally hot. Totally gay.”

He left at that, leaving Lance to nearly fall over at his sudden escape. Flushed, he stepped into the room and helped Hunk unload the cart of the things that they needed, namely the amp and his guitar.

“What was that about?” Hunk asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Lance scowled and punched Hunk again, ignoring his protests. “Nothing, loser. Help me get this stuff to the stage.”

Hunk chuckled but left it alone, and they grabbed their stuff and followed the signs backstage until the came out through the curtains, in time to see Allura high five Pidge triumphantly. “Nice work, Pidge!”

“It was just a loosened bolt,” the girl said with a modest shrug but a proud smile on her face. “Just needed replacing. Oh, there you guys are. Allura, this is Lance and Hunk.”

Allura stood and dusted off her jeans, thin golden bracelets jangling as she held out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you,” she said cheerfully, shaking Hunk’s hand first. “Pidge and Matt have spoken highly of you.”

“I doubt that,” Lance laughed, gripping her hand and jolting when her grasp was stronger than he had anticipated.

Allura laughed. “Well, maybe most of the time. But I’m pleased you wanted to sing here. The customers always enjoy live music. Your set runs until midnight, and as long as you and your crew are of age-” she shot a pointed look at Pidge on that “-you are granted two free drinks per hour.”

They dug out their IDs while Pidge pouted and, after getting the go-ahead from Allura, started setting up their equipment. “It’s dumb that I do just as much as you guys and can’t get a lousy hard cider,” Pidge muttered.

Lance chuckled, ruffling her hair even while she squawked in protest. “Two more years, Pidgeot. Two more years.”

“Lame. Whatever. I’ll finish setting up while you guys go get food. Your set doesn’t start until 10.”

They thanked her and hopped off stage, mingling through the crowd to the bar and grabbing menus from the stand on the edge of it. “We should probably just get appetizers,” Lance noted. “Or at least, I should. Don’t want to like…puke on stage.”

Hunk glanced sideways at him. “Are you nervous, dude?”

Lance pursed his lips and his fingers tightened on the menu, eyes staying locked on the food options. “No way!”

Hunk raised an eyebrow and set his menu down, crossing his arms. Lance huffed. “Fine, maybe a little. I just…this is my first actual gig, Hunk. One that isn’t for a dumb birthday party or sorority event. Forgive me if I’m a little anxious.”

“If you sing as good as you look, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

Lance froze and turned to look at the guy next to him, eyes wide. The guy clearly hadn’t intended to say that out loud, because as Lance watched, his face turned beet red. “P-Pardon?”

The guy swallowed, resigned to the fact that he had unintentionally flirted with a random singer, and glanced up with a sheepish smile. “Sorry. That was um…kinda rude. I just couldn’t help but overhear, and I’m just saying, I’m sure you’ll be good.”

A slow grin slid up Lance’s face. “Because I’m good looking.”

The beet turned to a cherry and Lance could see both Hunk and the bartenders getting a kick out of the spectacle. “Shut up,” the guy muttered, burying his head into his hands.

Lance laughed, all nerves gone, and nudged the guy. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll take it as a compliment, coming from someone as hot as you.”

Okay, the cherry had turned into a fire, and Lance glanced away to give the man a second to compose himself. Matt had turned to help another patron, so he settled his eyes on the sexy bartender and winked. “Two of whatever he’s having. Hunk?”

Hunk ordered a Sprite (Lance made fun of him until he was reminded that Hunk was the designated driver and couldn’t very well work sound equipment if he was inebriated) and the bartender came back in a few moments with a drink that was startlingly purple, sliding one in front of Lance in the other in front of the embarrassed guy.

He leaned a metal arm on the counter, which honestly surprised Lance for a moment, and raised an eyebrow, lips twitching. “Juniberry Jamba. Don’t go getting my brother drunk, now.”

He sauntered away to Lance’s jaw drop and the other guy’s spluttered protest of, “SHIRO!”

Hunk snorted, picked up his Sprite, and walked back to the stage, probably to help Pidge with the rest of set up, and Lance turned back to the guy, who was stirring the drink with a hard set to his face. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “He’s…over protective.”

Lance worried at his lip for a second before shrugging and taking a drink and damn, that was fruity. “Not a problem.”

He took a second to caress the guy’s form, realizing that this was definitely the guy Matt had been talking about. He could see the resemblance, in the nose and the hair and the eyes and very much in the ass. This guy was hot, but-

“How the hell do you get away with a mullet?”

Lance bit back the words the moment they were out, watching as the guy turned to him in what could only be described as slow motion. “Excuse me?” he managed, looking like he had gotten it before.

Lance swallowed a drink and tried again. “I…sorry. That came out wrong. I just…I’ve never seen a guy pull off a mullet attractively.”

All he received in response was a stare, and after a beat it was too stifling, so he thrust a hand out with a weak grin. “I’m Lance. Uh….Sanchez.”

“Had to think about that, did you?”

The smirk the guy gave him was sly, and Lance found himself smiling more easily as his hand was taken. “Oh yeah. Forget my name all the time.”

The guy laughed. “Keith Kogane. Shiro’s my half-brother, so like…free drinks.”

He said it with a shrug, lighthearted, and Lance felt something clench in his chest. “Um…yeah. That’s cool. I’m just…playing a set.”

Keith lifted an eyebrow. “So I heard. I meant it, by the way.”

“Meant…?”

“You’ll do great. And even if you don’t, no one will care.”

Lance snorted, lifting his glass to his lips and looking at Keith over top of it. “Why’s that?”

“They’ll be too busy staring at your ass.”

He nearly spit his drink out, freezing at the last second and practically choking it on the way down. “What?” he croaked out.

Keith was laughing, lithe fingers tapping the edge of his glass as he waited for Lance to settle down. “You heard me. Staring. At. Your. Ass. I should know. I’ve been doing it.”

He really should not have tried taking another sip to wash down the first. Matt and Shiro were both looking at him in amused concern, and while he’d love to have one of them perform CPR on him, just so he could say he’d been kissed by gods (or devils, if you believed in the temptation route) he was more focused on the incredibly attractive man in front of him. “Is that a…a hint?” he coughed.

Keith smirked and leaned on one elbow, looking up at the clock pointedly. Ten minutes before his set. “I’ll be here when you’re done.”

Lance finally managed to collect himself, taking one last, long swig of the obnoxiously purple drink, and gave Keith what he hoped was a suggestive smile. “Like I’d let you leave.”

The smile grew. “Gonna stop me, pretty boy?”

He almost keeled over at that. “Count on it.”

Needless to say, his set went perfectly.

~~~~~

Six Months Later

“I did not!”

“Did so!”

Keith laughed as Lance tackled him, shoving the water balloon he had been holding down onto his boyfriend’s head, whooping triumphantly as the liquid spilled all down his hair and back. Keith snorted and grabbed Lance by the wrists, flipping him onto the grass. “Admit it,” he teased. “You can’t prove I hit you and not Hunk or Pidge.”

Lance stuck his tongue out, water rolling down his temples to the ground below them. “Fight me, Mullet.”

“Nah.”

He leaned over and kissed him instead, sweat and water and the odd taste of rubber invading their senses.

Seconds later, they were soaked to the bone and shrieking, spinning to find Pidge flinging the garden hose at Hunk and sprinting into Keith’s house, laughing her ass off.

Keith grinned at Lance. “Gang up on Pidge?”

He snickered and shut the hose off, picking up three water balloons in one hand. “Count on it. Hunk, come on!”

Hunk obliged happily.

~~~~~

One Year Later

“I did it!”

Keith glanced up from his astronomy text book as Lance burst into the apartment, face nearly split in two from the grin on his lips. It was contagious, and Keith found himself starting to smile. “Did what, exactly? Win the lottery?”

Lance scoffed and darted over to the couch, waving a manila folder in Keith’s face. “NO, loser! Better! Altean Studios signed me!”

Keith’s smile grew. “That’s great, babe!”

Lance kissed him excitedly before flopping back against the sofa and clutching the envelope to his chest. “Dude. This is the beginning to everything for me. For us.”

Keith chuckled, thumbing at the pages of his book and leaning on Lance’s shoulder. “How ‘us?’ I don’t do anything for the band.”

The sound Lance made in response to that comment was not remotely human, and while Keith was trying to figure out how vocal cords could produce such a noise, Lance jumped to his feet and straddled Keith, tossing the envelope to the couch and pressing his hands to either side of Keith’s face. He squished them in, forcing Keith to make a duck face, and set his eyebrows in a furrow.

“You,” he said very seriously, “are our biggest fan. You come to every rehearsal, every gig, every damn event, and you’re always there for me here, too.”

Keith tried to snort and pull back but Lance just held tighter, leaning down until their foreheads were touching and staring into his eyes. “I couldn’t do this without you,” he whispered. “I need you.”

Keith finally nodded and Lance lightened up on his squishing, kissing him again and then swinging his leg back to the ground. “This Rockstar has to go shower because he is gnarly,” Lance declared, shooting Keith a grin as he picked up his folder. “Feel free to join me.”

“Nah. I’ll be here, studying for my exam, like a good student.” He paused, watching as Lance sauntered towards their room with more swing in his hips than necessary, and then shot a sly smile at his boyfriend’s back. “Or maybe I’ll be in our room. Waiting.”

Lance glanced over his shoulder with an evil smirk on his face. “That a promise?”

“Count on it.”

~~~~~

Two Months Later

“Keith? You okay?”

Keith glanced over to find Lance watching him, propped up on one elbow in bed with a curious look on his face. Keith smiled thinly and padded back over to him, leaning across the sheets and kissing him gently. “Yeah. Just…nervous. I have one year left, Lance.”

“I know. You’ll do amazing, babe.”

“But after I’m done with this program, I can apply to teach almost anywhere, Lance.”

Lance’s nose wrinkled. “Is that a bad thing?”

Keith slid back into bed and curled away from Lance. He didn’t flinch when the tanned arm slid around his waist and tugged him back against a bare chest. “No,” he admitted. “It’s just…I never thought I’d get this far.”

His voice broke and Lance kissed the back of his neck gently. “Hey. You’re amazing, you know that?”

Keith rolled over, linking an ankle with Lance’s and lifting a hand to drift over his lips. “I couldn’t have gotten through this without you. I wouldn’t even have passed last semester if you hadn’t helped me. I know you’re busy a lot now, but I really appreciate-”

“Hey. Get some rest. I know. It’s okay. I love you. I’ll be here when you wake up, and we’ll keep talking then, okay?”

Keith smiled thinly, pressing his lips to Lance’s nose. “That a promise, Pretty?” he yawned.

Lance laughed and pulled the covers up over them, tucking his head under Keith’s chin. “Count on it.”

~~~~~~

Six Months Later

“Do you want to go on a double dinner date with Shiro and Allura this Saturday?” Keith asked, looking up from his texting and following Lance as he paced the room, tossing things into a backpack.

Lance paused for a second, tongue peeking from his mouth, and then groaned. “Shit, I can’t. Rolo, Nyma, Hunk, and I have to be at the bar by eight for set up. We probably wouldn’t be done in time.”

Keith pursed his lips, glancing back down at his phone. “We could do brunch too, if that’s better. But Shiro and Allura work the day shift Saturday, so it couldn’t be later than eleven.”

“I have a gig running late Friday night, I’ll be exhausted.”

Keith slumped a little. He hadn’t seen Shiro in almost two weeks, and he missed him more than he cared to admit. Ever since Lance had started playing more than just the Voltron Lions club, he had been with his sibling less and less.

Lance faltered and put his bag down, kneeling on the bed next to Keith and kissing his temple gently. “I’m sorry babe. I really am.”

“I know. It’s okay.”

He took Hunk with him to brunch.

~~~~~

Three Months Later

“Europe?” Keith snapped. “You’re going to Europe?”

Lance, misunderstanding his irritation for excitement, grinned. “Yeah, isn’t it awesome? Hunk and Pidge are both coming too. I wish you could come babe, but Altean studios doesn’t-”

“Pay for significant others, I know,” Keith growled.

Lance finally seemed to realize that Keith was mad and his smile fell. “What’s wrong?”

Keith swallowed and ran a tense hand over his jaw, struggling to stay calm. “You’re missing everything, Lance. My birthday, Christmas, New Year’s, my graduation. Do you even care?”

He looked like a fish out of water in that moment, mouth opening and closing, and then Lance’s disbelief slowly turned to anger. “This is my first international tour, and you’re worried about New Year’s?”

“That’s not the point, Lance!”

“Then what is the point?”

“I don’t see you anymore!” Keith shouted, clenching his hands at his sides and fighting not to shake. “You care more about your stupid music than you care about me, you always have!”

“Stupid?” Lance shrieked in outrage. “Fuck you! God, Keith, I have the chance of a lifetime! I knew you couldn’t afford to come, so I was going to Skype you every night, call you all the time, text every day. But apparently I’m supposed to drop every chance I get because someone has abandonment issues from when his mother left his sorry ass!”

Keith froze and Lance took a huge step back, a look akin to shame falling over his features. “Keith, I-”

“I think we should take a break.”

The words were soft but certain, and Keith looked away as he said them, fingers trembling. Lance winced, moved a hand out, and then pulled back. “I…if that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Okay.”

“…okay.”

Lance picked up his bag slowly, watching Keith with cautious eyes, and shouldered it, heading to the door. He paused, hand on the frame, and bit his lip. “I’ll uh…I’ll see you around.”

“Yup.”

It took every ounce of self-control for Keith to let him leave.

~~~~~

Two Months Later

“Voltron Lions, Takashi Shirogane speaking. How may I help you?” Shiro answered the phone, pressing it between his shoulder and cheek as he wiped down the counter.

“Hey Shiro. How are you?”

Shiro let a grin split his face. “Pidge! It’s great to hear from you! How’s Europe? We miss you here, even if Matt won’t admit it.”

Matt, wiping down the other side of the bar, flipped him off. Shiro returned the gesture and switched ears, leaning back on the granite behind him.

“I’m doing all right. I’ve picked up bits and pieces of tons of languages. But that’s not why I’m calling.”

Shiro frowned. “Is everything okay?”

Matt glanced over his shoulder, forehead wrinkled in worry.

“Oh yeah, no, I’m fine,” Pidge assured him. Shiro waved off Matt’s concern as she continued. “It’s actually about…um…could you and Keith get out here? Like…for the next concert? In London?”

Shiro nearly choked on his own saliva. “Pidge, that’s in like…two days!”

“I know, but it’s really important. Please. Hunk and I will pay for you guys. It’s…it’s Lance. I um…he hasn’t been so hot. Please just get here as soon as you can. I’ll transfer you the money, okay?”

“I…okay. Okay, we’ll be there.”

Shiro hung up the phone and ran his prosthetic down his face, flinging his towel at Matt’s back. “What is wrong with your sister?”

~~~~~

“I still don’t see why you dragged me to London,” Keith complained, crossing his arms as they waited to go inside the venue. “He doesn’t want to see me.”

“You don’t know that,” Shiro protested, handing their tickets to the person up front and leading Keith inside. “Besides, you’ve never been to London, and neither have I. Might as well see the sights while we’re here.”

“Right. That’s why you dragged me along.”

In reality, Keith wasn’t mad at Shiro for bringing him. He had been severely depressed the last few months. He had dropped his major and eventually been kicked out of college, going to work part time for Allura during the week instead. His astronomy books were collecting dust in the back of his closet, and every time he looked at them something nasty twisted in his gut. So he stopped looking.

When Shiro had abruptly pulled him from work and tossed him a suitcase and a change of clothes, saying they had a flight to London that evening, Keith had been certain he was going insane. But no, Shiro was very much telling the truth, and within six hours of the suitcase being thrown at his chest, they were tucked into a plane directly between a snoring old guy and a lady with a case of the sniffles.

Keith hated flying for the people alone.

When they had landed, it had been four am, but Keith’s body was telling him that it was barely 8 in the evening, so he and Shiro had found an all-night sandwich shop and gotten coffee and a couple of subs before finding their hotel and forcing themselves to sleep for the whole day.

And now he was at Lance’s concert.

He hadn’t talked to Lance since their fight, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t been keeping tabs on his tour, watching his aired performances begrudgingly and tracking where he was going next. Hunk had kept in touch, texting every now and then to check up on him, and so had Pidge, and he appreciated it. He usually didn’t respond, or if he did it was a one word answer, but he was grateful that they still seemed to care.

The crowd around them was deafening as the opening act played, some band Keith had never heard of that honestly made him think music was a mistake. Shiro seemed a bit perturbed at all of the leather and cursing, which was amusing in and of itself.

“What if he doesn’t want me here?” he found himself asking again.

Shiro glanced down at him, looking relieved to have something to focus on other than the screaming punks on stage. “I told you, I’m sure he does. If he didn’t, he-”

“Shiro? Keith?”

They turned to find Hunk there, wearing a t-shirt that said “SECURITY” and holding a flashlight. His face lit up when he saw that he was correct, and the next thing Keith knew he was being swept into a crushing hug, one that, he would admit, made him feel a little lighter.

“I can’t believe you guys came!” he cried as he let go. “Pidge wasn’t sure you would!”

His eyes flickered over Keith and he frowned. “Dude, you okay?”

“Nervous,” Shiro offered.

Hunk nodded knowingly and waved as he was called away. The screamo band finally got off stage and Keith watched as Nyma and Rolo replaced them, Nyma on guitar and Rolo settling at the drums. He knew Pidge was backstage with a keyboard; she hated being on stage, plus backstage she could make all kinds of cool sound effects.

And then…

Lance.

When he strolled onto stage, the crowd started shrieking, and Keith was suddenly startled to realize just how many people were there to see him.

To see him.

God, he had missed seeing him.

He was wearing black skinny jeans and dark blue converse, a matching blue button down thrown over top of a white tee. His nails were painted red.

Red was Keith’s favorite color.

His breathing hitched as Lance greeted the crowd, voice smoother than he remembered it being, and he felt Shiro settle a hand on his shoulder. He leaned into his brother’s touch, shutting his eyes and nodding gratefully as the music started.

The total show was about two hours, during which Lance played mostly original music, with a few covers and a lot of bad jokes tossed in here and there. Keith didn’t even realize they had reached the end until Lance glanced ever so subtly off stage and then winked at the crowd.

“They’re booting me in a hot sec, y’all. So um…I just…I wrote this last song about a month ago, and I haven’t shared it yet because it’s…it’s personal. And there’s someone…someone I hope hears it tonight.”

The crowd quieted as Lance set his guitar down, letting Nyma take control of the chords and focusing his whole attention on the microphone in front of him, fingers curling around the base and eyes shutting for just a moment as he breathed.

“I never let my guard go down.

But you messed me up when you came around.

When the high wore off, know you needed space

But I don’t wanna wait, I don’t want a mistake.

Few thousand miles, and an ocean away

But I see the sunrise, oh, just like the other day.

Picture your eyes as I fall asleep, tell myself it’s all right

Oh-oh, as the tears roll by.

Ooh, I wish I could feel your face

Oooh, I’m helpless when I’m oceans away.”

At some point while Lance was singing, his eyes lifted and settled on Keith. He could see the exact moment Lance realized it was him, the way his voice trembled over the words, how his hands tightened around the mic, his body froze up. He kept singing, stare never leaving Keith.

“I learned to fake a smile as the time runs out,

I don’t wanna wait, I don’t want a mistake.

Few thousand miles and an ocean away

But I see the sunrise, oh, just like the other day.

Picture your eyes as I fall asleep

Tell myself it’s all right, oh, as the tears roll by.”

Keith swallowed and gave a weak smile, vision blurred by tears, and after a minute he worked up the nerve to push away from Shiro, through the crowd to the walkway. Lance kept his gaze trained on him as the song slowed, and Keith knew it was nearing the end.

He broke into a sprint, vaguely aware of Hunk holding back a security guard and murmuring something to him, and, as the crowd cheered, he vaulted up the steps to the stage three at a time, coming to a screeching halt in front of Lance and dragging him in for the longest, most violent kiss he could muster.

Shrieks of delight resonated from the audience as Lance laughed against his lips, lifting his hands to swipe his thumbs over Keith’s cheeks, wiping away the stinging tears that had finally fallen.

“I’m so-”

Lance cut him off, pressing a much gentler kiss to his mouth and then leaning their foreheads together. “Me too. How did you-?”

“Pidge.”

He chuckled again, taking a breath. “Of course. I should have known, that little shit.”

Keith’s eyes darted around Lance’s face and his resolve crumbled. “You wrote that…for…?”

“For you, you dummy.”

He wrapped Lance in a tight hug, pressing his face into his shoulder and probably getting tears all over his outfit. He couldn’t care less, especially when Lance lifted his hands to hug back. The roar of the crowd was faint, just a small reminder that they were not, in fact, having this moment in private, and then Keith stepped back, squeezing his hands. “I’ll be here when you’re done,” he promised.

Lance’s face split into a grin. “Like I’d let you leave.”

A smile played on Keith’s lips. “What, gonna stop me, pretty boy?”

Lance winked, causing another shriek to start, and curled his hand around the mic again. “Count on it.”