#but at this point those two are shoving this gay ass shit down my throat

[fairielux]

another thing i think about waaaay more than i should is shutdown by moonbyul

or more specifically, moonbyul writing and releasing a DUET(!!!!!) poetically describing wlw intimacy, using fuckin she/her pronouns and asking ANOTHER FEMALE SINGER to sing on it

then the fucking mamamoo subunit happens and its just moonbyul and solar doing fanmeets and performances and for some unexplainable(/s) reason shutdown ends up being one of the songs they perform together, despite it being a SOLO song not a mamamoo or a subunit song.....

and then miss solar comes out with the mini album colours with the queerest fucking vogue song as the album opener....

[immaculatetfs]

Couple Looking

Caleb checked his new profile. Him and Ethan had been growing further and further apart in the past year. a threesome spice things up, he promised himself, looking over the newly created profile.

After a minute of looking through local gays, the unmistakable drroup of a new message rang out, a banner falling down reading“DaddyBear69 has messaged you”

“Facepick?”

Some things never changed. Caleb scrolled through his gallery, crawling through an eternity of pets, friends and food before finally getting a nice picture of them as a couple.

Caleb similed, memories of what Ethan and he had done in those woods filling his mind. It seemed that these days the only thing Ethan did was work, always coming back late and too tired to do anything but sleep and watch TV.

“You guys are hot ;)”

“Babe?” Ethan walked into the room, sweaty from his morning run. “Any luck?”

Caleb turned the phone to his husband, showing the beefy bear to him.

“Woof” he chuckled.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”Caleb smirked ”When did you wanna get him over?”

“Dunno, round 10? I always like it better in the morning”

“Sure, I’m free all Saturday”

He informed their new partner that they were interested, giving him the details.

“Great ;) see you guys then”

That was surprisingly simple, Caleb thought. Now all he had to do was wait

Saturday morning, the couple were woken by a powerful nock at their door. Caleb looked over to the alarm clock and groaned, it was already 10:15..

Shit

Ethan, always the morning person, shot out of bed and strode towards the door buck naked.

“What are you doing?”Caleb hissed

“He’ll see us like this anyway, no point in false modesty” his partner shrugged

Before Caleb could reply, Ethan had already left. He could hear footsteps going up to the door, and the subsequent squeak of its hinges. Ethan's voice was muffled by the walls, accompanied by another, much deeper voice that Caleb assumed belonged to their visitor. Cursing, he pulled himself out of bed and hastily shoved on some underwear, a pair that he only realized were inside out when he reached their guest.

He was much bigger in person than he had been from the picture he had sent, towering over both of them at what must be 6’5 in height. A tight, strained gym shirt and shorts hugged his meaty body, exposing the curly black forest of hairs across his forearms and shins. It seemed as though all the hair that on his head had instead dispersed across his massive body.

The stranger smirked at him as he playfully slapped his husband's bare ass, leaving a faint red mark.

“Should we get started?”

Blushing, Ethan showed the bull of a man to their room. He seemed to follow Ethan’s example, leaving a train of sweaty clothes across the hallway. Caleb frowned at this, but Ethan hardly noticed.

Standing fully nude before them, he was the epitome of raw masculinity, all mature sweat, muscle, hair, and shit-eating grins. Ethan usually topped, but it was plain from where Caleb had sat that he would be bottoming today. Ethan plopped down onto the bed, his cock taught and red as his legs were pulled apart in front of him. Calloused hands explored his legs, feeling across his tight claves and up to two chunky pale thighs, while Ethan's fingers glided through a sea of curly black chest hair.

Caleb couldn't help but notice that The stranger’s cock was unnaturally large, 12 inches and as thick as a coffee mug, yet it seemed like it was still growing. Ethan moaned as his feet were grabbed up to the stranger's mouth where his fat pink tongue began to explore their thick rough skin.

Are you going to join in? Caleb heard his husband say, half a moan, half a question.

No, no I'm fi…. Shit!

Caleb's eye’s had left his husband's feet and noticed the size that the stranger’s member had grown to. It was inhuman, a fat heavy cock that was now almost as big as the thighs is swung next to. The stranger must have noticed the stare as the man left Ethans’s toes and give a wicked smile to Caleb, right before he pushed Ethan's slick, wet feet back together and slowly pressed them into the fat red mushroom head of his oversized cock.

Caleb found he could not move, only able to watch as his husband was slowly swallowed by the stranger’s python. It seemed to move up his body, immobilizing Ethan as he moaned in ecstasy, feeling as his body became enveloped with the warm, musty glory of this masculine cock.

Soon it was up to his torso

“I-- i can't feel my legs”

‘They're long gone boy, melted into my thick, hot spunk”

“I-- I don-”

“Is that what you want? Do you want to be daddy’s streaming, salty musky baby batter?”

“I---”

“you want to be daddy’s cum” his voice commanded

“Yes daddy”

“Good”

The process sped up. Within a minute, all that was left of Ethan was a head poking out of a massive cock, liquidating as walls of the shaft transformed Caleb's husband into nothing but clear, slick pre-cum.

The Stranger ran his hands over his massive leaking cock, grunting in satisfaction. When he was satisfied that it was done, he glanced over to the immobile Caleb.

“Did you like that boy?” his eyes were Caleb's underwear, noticing the wet patch that had formed in his tenting underwear

Meekly, the smaller man nodded, his eyes never leaving the cock that contained what used to be his husband

“Did you want to join him?”

“Huh?’

“Join him”

“I don-”

“Join him” his voice was steel

“Join him” Caleb repeated

“Good.”

Before he knew it, Caleb was kneeling on the floor, that massive, musky cock dripping proudly before him. The shaft had shrunk after Ethan had been consumed, but attached to it were hairy balls as huge as udders. He placed his hand gently onto them, feeling the warmth of the wrinkled, hairy skin.

“Don't give me blueballs, kid. Get into it”

The mushroom head of his cock was angry red underneath his foreskin. Caleb took it into his mouth, the salty earthy taste of it overwhelming his senses. a rough hand grabbed his hair and pushed him down, sending the massive cock down into his throat, then rhythmically pulling him back. The wild forest of pubes tickled Caleb’s face, but nothing mattered but the rhythmic movement of being facefucked.

8==>

The stink of sweat and musk cloying to the man made Caleb dizzy, barely noticing his arms and legs retreated into his body. His organs were rearranging, stretching out to become a simple, straight passage down from mouth to his as. An ass which was in its own way transforming, widening as it came to resemble a cockslit. With one last push down onto his balls, Caleb's mouth fused to the stranger's crotch. He felt the cock inside in his mouth dissolve, a wave of cum entering what had been his mouth, and beginning to flow through him. His face smoothed out into the soft skin of cockflesh. Veins spring up across his body as the stranger’s blood pumped through his body, turning his soft, spongy flesh hard to the touch. He felt warm rough hands massaging his sensitive body, creating a combination of pressure and pleasure that turned his brain into cockflesh. His ass ballooned out, a layer of protective skin covering it to form the shape of a mushroom head.

He could no longer think or speak, so Caleb’s entire world became feel. He craved the sense of touch, the feel of hands tugging him and massaging him. He wanted to be squeezed into a tight wet hole as his owner plunged him again and again into some bottom, to be warm and wet as a talented tongue expertly moved across his hard bulging body. When it came, the orgasm of the man he now only knew as ‘master’ was the only thing that seemed to matter in the world, ‘Caleb’ not even realizing it was his life partner’s essence flowed through his body in blissful pulses, soaking the bed they had slept in just that very night

“That has to be the best one this month,” Chuck thought to himself, watching as the spunk that had been the puny man congealed across the bedsheet. “Never even got their names” he examined his python, grown by an inch from his new addition. “Eh, doesn't matter. They're gone permanently” he gave a rich, hearty laugh to himself, admiring his work and he pushed out the last few drops of Ethan from his new cock.. He looked down at his phone, displaying 15 new messages from Grindr. He smirked, put his clothes back on, and went off to his next victims.

[valeriwa]

kiss me baby

two: objectively speaking

summary: as the head of the very popular newspaper club, you have decided to heed the advice of the miya twins' fanclub and make a volleyball column. however, your club mutually agreed you'd be the one to gather content and coverage. something that started out as professional and friendly spiral out of hand as blushes rise and hearts race and a bunch of volleyball crazed doofuses think it's time you and mr-i-need-memories get together.

warnings: none

suna rintaro x fem!reader

masterlist || one || two || three

"and i'm l/n y/n, nice to meet you." you awkwardly bow, your lack of experience in socializing showing. the situation wasn't exactly comfortable either, the volleyball team had stopped mid-practice since the coach insisted you introduce yourselves right now.

ichika was almost hiding behind you, who could blame her? she was in a room with tall, intimidating athletes. her low energy rubbing off on you, you decide to turn to the coach to say it was okay to return to practice.

"coach, we'll be-"

"oh, you both should stay and start on your column and stuff. i was going to cut practice short anyway; the other coach didn't come," he said, shoving his things into a bag.

you stood there, and nodded after realizing that the prolonged silence could be taken as disrespectful.

and he just disappeared, leaving you, ichika and the vbc staring at each other. clearing you throat, you clapped your hands together.

"wanna head to a diner?"

"thanks sato," you said the waiter who brought your plate of fries and milkshake. he winked at you and mouthed a no problem.

"oh you two know each other?" osamu asked, catching onto the silent gestures.

"not really. staff's happy i brought a bunch of hot, athletic dudes to the diner." you groaned slightly that sato would blow up your phone later.

"oh we're hot?" atsumu smirked, but you didn't miss the dusting of pink on most of the boys. you groaned, hunching over.

"yeah, yeah, objectively speaking. you're not my type miya." you dipped a french fry into the special sauce before eating it, not bothering to look at atsumu's hurt face.

"excuse you, but i'm everyone's type." he puffed out his chest as he said so. you quirk an eyebrow and ignored him.

"kita-san, you have a surprisingly big fanbase. anything you want to say to them?" you asked, taking a sip of the milkshake. at your question, ichika frantically opens her notepad.

"calm down ichika, i'm sure kita-san will wait for you to get ready."

"oh- uh right, sorry," she mumbled, placing the pad and pen on the table for immediate use.

"oh, i didn't know i had a fanbase. but i'd thank them for supporting me?" he answers, obvious surprise on his face. huh he really didn't know.

"dry. moving on, suna, who forced you to cut your bangs like that?" a few people choked, you're not exactly sure who. but now that you look at him, he's kind of cute. objectively speaking, of course.

"myself." despite the indifferent exterior, you could tell he didn't expect your question. good.

"confident, that's nice-" your phone started ringing, and you looked at the contact name and sighed.

"ichika, take over, will you?" she nodded, a little nervous excitement bubbling in her and you took the phone and walked away from the table.

ichika had turned to the libero to make her question who listened intently before answering.

"now's really not a good time," you groaned into the phone, a little conscious of the stare you could feel on your back.

"oh yeah? where are you?" the familiar raspy voice spoke back, you could tell he just woke up.

"out with some people from school- that's not the point, did you call for a reason?"

"he kind of hurt his knee again-"

"that ugly ass piece of shit," you mumbled. however, you were close enough to the table for the team and ichika to hear you.

"oh god- i have to go, see you." and you hung up the phone and trudged back to the table.

"sorry about that, please continue," you gestured to ichika and osamu who was answering whatever her curiosity had urged her to ask.

"you sure?" it was suna. his question didn't really hold any care or concern, rather it was teasing.

"i'll just probably have to go to miyagi," you muttered, taking a way too long sip of your milkshake.

"what?" ichika asked, dropping her notepad and turning to face you. "we can't go on without you." a bit dramatic if you ask me. you took another sip, faced her and grabbed her shoulders.

"itsuki and yuki will be doing most of the work, you don't get to hear me saying you can do better and," you pause and gesture to the table of boys, "you can be the most envied girl in school, interview hot volleyball players even if one does have weird bangs." you swore atsumu snorted at that.

"if i knew any better, i'd say you have a crush on me," suna teased, looking at you with those same sleepy eyes. kind of hot. what- no, he's not hot. okay maybe just a little, objectively speaking.

you rolled your eyes at his comment and gestured towards ichika to continue with questioning right as sato brought another plate of fries. considerably larger this time.

"it's on the house, babe," he looked at you as he said it. oh he wanted to know if anyone here swung the other way. you would've laughed if the tiredness hadn't gotten the best of you.

"uh senpai, do you want to ask anything? i'm done." you sighed and nodded, straightening.

"anybody here gay?"

(sadly they weren't. sato's going to cry.)

a/n: i'm so sorry! exams suck ass and hopefully i'll be able to give y'all regular updates starting tmr!

taglist: @zeyyackerman @deathfreak45 @lilith412426 @meri-soni-meri-tamanna

(bolded ones i'm unable to tag)

[idnek83]

By Your Side - chapter 2/3

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, No Game Spoilers, Coming Out, Hurt/Comfort, Verbal and Physical Abuse, Homophobia, Other Tags To Be Added

Summary: The epilogue of Aid, in which Soda finally comes out to those around him, and accomplishes a goal he’s had ever since that fateful day in the beach house.

Chapter: 1, 2

Read on Ao3

This Chapter: Soda comes out to his father and things go about as poorly as one would expect. But maybe he hasn't lost nearly as much as he thinks.

Please mind the tags. This chapter contains non-graphic depictions of verbal and physical abuse. If you don’t want to read it but would like to know what happened, please read the summary in the ending notes on AO3

_____________________

Coming out to his friends had been so easy that he had almost convinced himself that coming out to his dad could be easy too.

It wasn’t that bad really, he only hit him a few times, he’d been beaten worse for breaking things in the garage.

He was glad he told Gundham not to come though.

“You’re already such a useless fuckin’ disappointment-”

Really, watching how Gundham would react to his father’s abuse would probably have been way harder to take.

“Now you ain’t even gonna have a kid and continue the family? Too busy suckin’ dick like a disgusting-”

At this point his dad was pretty much just repeating himself. Earlier, Soda had tried to appease his father by pointing out that he was actually still interested in women, so technically he might still have a kid someday.

But his father wasn’t listening, so he gave up.

He didn’t really want kids anyways.

He was too scared he’d end up like his dad.

“-outta my house before I throw you out!”

Oh, that was new. He probably should have been listening better. He really was useless.

“What?”

“I said you best get your ass outta my house real quick, or I’m gonna throw ya out, and don’t even think ‘bout coming back unless you’re ready to put this gay shit behind you.”

His father’s entire face was red, a few ugly veins stood out on his forehead, and he looked cartoonishly angry.

Soda couldn’t help but think it was almost funny.

“Can I, um, can I grab some of my stuff first?”

Soda wasn’t really sure how he was acting so calm, it always happened when things with his dad got really bad. Calm didn’t stop his father from hitting him, but it usually stopped him from hitting harder.

His father’s eyes narrowed and his shoulders tensed in a way Soda had learned meant he should start preparing to be hit again, but to his surprise his father just turned and stormed away after mumbling “Ya got 15 fucking minutes,” followed by a string of insults Soda knew were supposed to be hurtful, but hardly affected him anymore.

It’s hard to feel rain drops when you’re already soaked.

He walked to his room an sat on the bed.

He just stared.

What was he supposed to do? Pack? Most his stuff was already in his dorm at Hope’s Peak. Why had he asked to get his stuff when there wasn’t even anything important here?

He looked vacantly around his room.

It was pretty sparse. Just some dirty clothes thrown around on old worn-out furniture. There was a picture of him and his dad on the nightstand.

Maybe he should take that? People always take photos with them in movies and shit, so that’s probably what he’s supposed to do, right?

He threw it out the window instead.

It probably should have made him feel something, but he just felt numb.

He grabbed a pillowcase and stared filling it with his clothes and some of the random junk he had sitting around, not really paying attention to what he was doing.

Was this the last time he would ever be in this room? In this house?

The thought made him freeze.

He was about to lose the only home he’d ever had.

He swallowed a lump in his throat and laid down on his bed, tried to remember the feeling of it and the image of his ceiling.

It was stupid, but he felt like he would miss staring at that ceiling, suddenly every little bump and scratch felt like an important part of who he was. He had stared at it his whole life and now he just… wouldn’t be able to ever again.

He felt like he was upset about the wrong thing, but he couldn’t stop the tears from coming to his eyes anyway.

He was definitely going to miss that ceiling.

There was a knock at the door.

Shit, had it been 15 minutes already?

He stood and grabbed his sack of stuff, wiped his face, and opened the door to his room for what was probably the last time.

No one was there.

He checked his phone to see if his time was actually up, maybe he was just hearing things.

He had 12 missed calls from Gundham and twice as many unanswered texts.

There was another knock at the door.

Not his room door.

The front door.

Oh god, no.

He ran to the front door and pulled it open. He wasn’t the least bit surprised to see Gundham standing there looking both incredibly concerned and incredibly angry.

He was surprised when he didn’t immediately shove both himself and his boyfriend out the door like he had been planning to though.

Something about seeing Gundham just then, seeing the man he felt so safe around right as he was losing his home broke him, and instead of pushing Gundham back and away from the building like he should, he wrapped his arms around him and choked a sob into his chest.

Gundham held him tightly, and for a moment Soda didn’t feel so lost.

And then his dad found them.

“And this is the fucking guy? Really went with the fruitiest fucker you could, huh? Couldn’t pick one that at least looks like a girl could ya, ya little-”

He couldn’t take it if his father and Gundham started fighting. He needed to leave. Now.

He tried to nudge Gundham back, but Gundham just held him tighter.

“Cease your barking, foul beast.”

No.

Gundham shifted, partially shielding Soda from his father. He was definitely getting ready to fight.

No no no.

“I will not allow you to-”

The venom in Gundham’s raised voice sent a chill down Soda’s spine that he wished wasn’t so familiar.

He needed to stop this before it got bad, before he started fearing Gundham’s voice the same way he feared his father’s.

“Gundham, please, don’t.”

It was quiet, pathetic, and mumbled into Gundham’s chest. If his father had heard it he would have laughed and mocked him more, there’s not way it would have stopped him.

But it stopped Gundham.

He felt Gundham tense for a moment, before stroking Soda’s hair and muttering an apology against his temple. It was the exact kind of tender comfort Soda had never dared dream of receiving during one of his father’s episodes.

It made him cling to Gundham harder.

Yeah, his dad really didn’t appreciate that.

Soda was pretty sure Gundham was literally biting his tongue as the two of them walked away from the house, trailed by every insult and threat his father could think to utter. Only once they made it to the sidewalk did Gundham pause and look back. Soda could see him seething, knew Gundham needed to say something, and just pressed his head against Gundham’s shoulder, allowing him to finally speak up.

He didn’t have the energy to stop him anyways.

Gundham locked eyes with Soda’s father and tightened his arm protectively around Soda’s back.

He just hoped Gundham wouldn’t yell again.

“May you one day find enough love to know your actions were wrong.”

It was hardly any louder than Gundham’s usual speaking voice, but the moment of silence that followed it told Soda that his father had indeed heard it.

The renewed vigor of his threats after, however, told him his father didn’t care for the words.

–

Soda wasn’t 100% sure how they got back to campus.

He vaguely remembers being on a bus and hiding his face against Gundham’s neck, doing his best not to cry in public.

He didn’t need more people seeing how pathetic he was.

He remembers the warmth of Gundham’s hand on his back and the soothing sound of his voice, though he can’t really remember anything he said.

He was so useless he couldn’t even pay attention when someone was trying to comfort him.

It wasn’t until they were walking through the doors of their dorm building that he really felt like he was able to focus again. Something about being in a familiar place just made his mind come back from… wherever it had been.

The first thing he noticed was that he didn’t have the pillowcase he had shoved all his shit in.

He didn’t have the pillowcase.

His heartbeat picked up.

He didn’t have his stuff.

He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t have a house,

His knees buckled.

He didn’t have a home.

He fell. He felt sick. He felt like he was dying.

Gundham was saying something. He couldn’t hear him. He couldn’t hear anything but his own too loud heartbeat and his brain’s assurance that he had lost everything and that he might as well just die.

Suddenly he was being carried. He wanted to protest but he couldn’t catch his breath, so he just gasped and choked pathetically in Gundham’s arms until he was slowly lowered onto a bed.

His bed.

His bed in his dorm room, covered in his dirty clothes and his unwashed blankets.

Soda gripped the sheets, his sheets, and something about it made the knot in his chest loosen.

He could breathe again.

He opened his eyes, unsure when he had closed them, and looked down at Gundham, who was crouched down before him holding his limp hands in his own.

A small smile graced Gundham’s face when Soda met his eyes.

“Have you returned to me, my love?”

Soda’s mouth felt dry, so he just nodded.

Gundham stood, slowly, the same way Soda knew he would around a frightened animal, and lifted one of Soda’s hands to gently press his lips to his knuckles.

“Do you keep ice in your fridge, dear consort?”

The question felt bizarre. Ice? Was this an overlord thing? He really wasn’t in the mood for that crap…

He managed to choke out a confused “Huh?”

“Ice, my dearest, is there any in your fridge? We must treat your wounds.”

Soda blinked slowly, waiting for his mind to process what was happening.

His wounds?

Oh.

He must have a blackeye.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll get it.”

When he stood Gundham moved as if to stop him, and he felt anger bubble up in his stomach.

“I said I’ll fucking get it! I’m not that fucking useless!”

He regretted it the second he finished speaking. Gundham’s shocked face hurt him more than anything else that night had.

In his mind his raised voice echoed and distorted until he couldn’t tell it from his father’s.

He was on his knees again, sobbing an apology, as gentle arms slowly wrapped around him and a deep voice offered forgiveness he didn’t deserve.

They must have been close enough to his minifridge for Gundham to reach it, as he suddenly felt something cold being lightly pressed into his hands.

It was an icepack he nearly forgot he owned, Mikan had handed them out to everyone in class on a particularly hot day that summer.

He pressed it to his eye, only then did he notice the dull throbbing pain of it.

He let himself fall forward into Gundham’s chest again.

“‘m sorry.” He mumbled again.

“My beloved consort, I can hardly imagine the pain you are feeling at this moment.” A soft kiss to his forehead. “I will remain by your side as you fight the demons which plague you, however unpleasant they may be.”

The words struck fear in Soda’s heart.

“No.”

“My dear?”

“I don’t want that, Gundham.” He took a shaky breath “I don’t want you to be with me if I’m treating you like shit. I don’t care if I’m hurt or whatever, if I treat you like shit you leave, okay?”

“It’s understandable that-”

“No. Gundham, please, I just-” another shaky breath as he pulled far enough away from Gundham that he could meet his eyes “- I don’t want to end up like him, okay? So you can’t… you can’t just let me get away with this shit. E-even when I’m upset.”

Gundham took a moment to consider his words, looking unconvinced.

“Please Gundham. I couldn’t… I couldn’t take it if I hurt you.”

Gundham stroked his cheek and finally nodded.

“Then I will do my best to keep your behavior in check, and in return I will ask only one thing.”

Soda smiled and cocked his head.

“Yeah?”

“You must be kind to yourself as well, dearest.”

It caught him off-guard.

“You have made a habit of speaking of yourself in a depreciating manner. I will not allow you to speak to me in such a way, and I will not allow you to speak to yourself in such a way either.” Gundham smiled and cupped Soda’s chin. “You are the consort of the great Overlord of Ice, my love, all must treat you with respect.”

Soda couldn’t help but laugh a little. It made his face hurt even worse, but it was worth it.

Gundham pulled him close again and quietly chuckled along with him.

Eventually they stood, and Soda looked around his room until he found a mostly clean face cloth to wrap the icepack in, before pressing it back to his swollen eye.

Gundham simply stood in the middle of the room, seemingly uncharacteristically unsure of himself.

“Um, Gundham? What’s, uh, what’s up?” Gundham looking nervous made Soda feel nervous, it was just too unlike him.

“I am… simply unsure if I should stay.”

“Huh?”

Gundham hadn’t once hesitated to spend the night in Soda’s room since they had returned from their vacation.

“I would be happy to stay with you this night, my dear consort, but…you have gone through so much so quickly, I would understand if you wished to have some time alone, or simply some time away from me, as I am .”

Soda was about to protest, of course he wanted Gundham around right now, having the person you love around in a crisis was like the number one thing you were supposed to want, right?

But the more he thought about it the more he realized Gundham had a point. Maybe he felt calm for the moment, but he was sure he’d have another outburst soon, and as much as he appreciated Gundham’s comfort and reassurance, sometimes a guy really just needs to let himself have a good long ugly cry in private, just to get it all out.

“Actually, yeah… I think, um, I think maybe I’ll sleep alone tonight? If that’s alright?”

“Of course it is alright, dearest.”

Gundham smiled for a second before it faltered.

“But please, do not hesitate to contact me if you need anything, my love. Truly anything, big or small, I will do my best to accommodate you.”

Soda smiled a little but could already feel his emotions welling up again at Gundham’s hesitance.

“I will, Gundham. Or? I won’t I guess? Uh, I mean, I’ll text you if I need anything, okay? Just, uh, try not to worry about me to much for now, alright? I’ll… be okay.”

He’d probably be okay, right?

“Of course, I’ll do my best.” Gundham moved to the door as Soda opened it, turning back as he walked through it. “I love you, my dear Soda.”

Soda felt his throat tightening again.

“L-love you too, Gundham.” Maybe it was a little choked, maybe he closed the door a little too fast, but maybe he just didn’t want Gundham to have to deal with any more of his crying that night.

He waited a moment for Gundham’s shadow to disappear from below the door, before once again sliding to his knees.

He expected to sob, the way he had before, but to his surprise he just breathed out a few more shaky breaths.

Maybe he had had enough of his own crying for one night too.

Maybe he just needed another minute.

He decided he might as well get ready for bed. He looked around his room for some cleanish pajamas and found a shirt Gundham had forgotten at some point. It passed the sniff test, smelling only mildly like BO but mostly like Gundham, so he threw it on along with some loose shorts he was mostly certain he had only slept in a few times that week.

He still didn’t feel like crying.

Soda sat on his bed and pulled out his phone, maybe he should just ask Gundham to come back if he wasn’t going to have another breakdown…

He felt guilty when he saw all the still unread messages from Gundham, but he’d deal with those later. For now, he was more interested in some of the other texts he had.

He had told most his friends that he was planning to come out to his father today, so there were a decent number of texts asking how things went.

As he scrolled through his various messages he began to feel guilty, many of his classmates had not only asked how things went but had followed up a while later with concerned messages. Fuyuhiko had even threatened to send some of “his guys” to Soda’s house - to Soda’s Father’s house -  if he didn’t respond soon.

Luckily it seemed like Gundham had done some damage control while Soda had been out of it, as there were also a few messages saying things like “Gundham says you’re safe, but I’m here to talk if you need it!” and offering various words of support and love.

So, turns out he wasn’t done crying.

What had he done to deserve such good friends? He was just a stupid fuck-up and yet there were so many people ruining their nights by worrying about him. The worst part was he couldn’t even find the energy to respond to them. These people were making the effort to try to reach out to him and he couldn’t even do them the courtesy of responding.

His dad was right, he was useless.

He opened the rest of his messages without reading them, just to clear the notifications, then fell face first onto his pillow and tried not to sob. His throat was starting to feel sore, and all the crying really wasn’t helping.

His phone vibrated and he ignored it.

It vibrated again.

And again.

And again.

He grabbed it to put it on silent, but the most recent message caught his eye.

I swear dude if you don’t respond in the next five minute I’m coming back and kicking your ass.

It was Hajime. He and Nagito had decided to go camping for the weekend, and he had been pretty upset when Soda had told him he was going to talk to his dad while Hajime was out of town. Soda had insisted it would be fine and that Hajime should still go, and Hajime had only agreed on the condition that Soda would keep him updated with how things went.

Something he very much did not do.

He shot off a quick “I’m fine,” and almost immediately after he hit send his phone began ringing.

The bastard had tricked him, he couldn’t say he hadn’t noticed Hajime calling now.

He sighed and answered his phone.

“Yeah?” His voice was kind of scratchy, but he didn’t think he sounded like he was crying at least.

To his surprise, instead of the snarky response he had been expecting, he simply heard a relieved sigh and a slightly distant sounding “He’s okay,” before a louder “You had me really worried man.”

Soda choked back another sob. Hajime sounded so genuinely relieved, he could only imagine how worried he must have been.

And he had been planning on just letting him worry…

God he was an asshole.

“I…” Soda really didn’t know what to say.

“It’s okay, I heard from Gundham so I know I should have just dropped it but… I dunno, man, I just really needed to hear your voice I guess? Like to be sure you’re alive?”

Soda let out a deep, shaky breath. He knew Hajime would be able to hear it over the phone, but he needed to calm himself down.

“S-sorry Haj. I shoulda just texted you. It’s my fault for being such a fuck up.”

“Soda, shut the fuck up right now or I actually am going to come back there and kick your ass. You’re not a fuck up, your dad’s a piece of shit, and you 100% are not allowed to feel shitty about not responding to people while you’re in the middle of a fucking crisis, got it?”

Soda froze before laughing at Hajime’s outburst.

“Weren’t you the one g-getting mad at me for not responding, d-dude?” He did his best to keep his voice light, but he couldn’t quite manage it.

“Yeah I know, I shouldn’t have. I probably just made you feel worse, huh?”

Soda paused for a moment.

“Yes and no?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, dude?”

“L-like… yeah seeing your messages and shit made me feel… really shitty, but… now that we’re talking I feel… I dunno, man, just... less shitty?”

There was a quick burst of static that Soda assumed must have been an amused huff from Hajime.

“Soda?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you, man, okay? Don’t forget that.”

Tears welled up in his eyes and he had to swallow around a lump in his throat before responding.

“I love you too, Haj…”

There was a brief pause, both of them feeling a little awkward about being so open, but enjoying the feeling none the less, then-

“No homo.”

They said it at the same time.

Soda’s body shook with laughter, he could hear Hajime howling on the other end of the call and could just barely make out Nagito asking what was so funny in the background. His face hurt so bad, but he couldn’t really make himself care just then.

When their laughter died down Soda sighed.

“Thanks for this, Haj. I… I think I really needed to hear some of that shit…”

“Anytime, Soda.”

There was a brief pause and Soda knew Hajime was debating whether he should end the call or not.

He didn’t want to cut into Hajime’s camping date for too long, so he made the choice for him.

“Anyways, I’m feeling pretty tired, so I’m gonna head to bed now.”

“Okay, man, just… call me if you need to talk more, okay?”

“And risk catching you while you’re in the bone zone? No thanks, dude.”

“First off, never call it that again, second, I’m serious, Soda, call me.”

“Yeah, yeah, dude.”

“Soda.”

“I will. I promise! If I need to talk I’ll call you, even if I think you’re probably fucking, okay? Happy?”

“Yes. Now get some sleep.”

“Okay, mom. Good night.”

Soda heard Hajime’s faint chuckle as he hung-up, and found himself genuinely smiling for what felt like the first time that night.

Sure, maybe him and Hajime weren’t great at actually talking about heavy shit with each other without making it all into some kind of joke, but maybe jokes were the exact kind of thing he needed right then.

Jokes and something to fucking drink.

All the crying he had done that night had really killed his throat, and while the laughing had felt better, it had still just made him that much more aware of how dry his mouth was.

His phone buzzed as he stood to look for a drink. He picked it up expecting to find some snarky message from Hajime, only to see Sonia’s name on his screen instead.

Hello Soda, I do not mean to bother you, but I have made too much tea, and was wondering if you would like some.

Soda smiled at the message. ‘Made too much tea,’ as if Sonia wasn’t a master when it came to all things tea related.

I can leave some at your door if you are not in the mood to chat! I don’t mind!

Was he in the mood to chat? Talking with Hajime had been great, exactly what he needed probably, but would talking with Sonia be the same?

Their relationship had significantly improved over the past few months, the two of them would even sometimes hangout without Gundham around now, but they had never really talked about serious stuff before, they always just kept things light.

But he could really go for some tea, and maybe letting someone other than Gundham see that he was alive and in one piece would help him stop feeling so guilty about ignoring his friends.

Tea sounds good, thanks. I wouldn’t mind a quick chat either.

Great! I’ll be right over! ヾ(^▽^*)

Less than a minute passed before Soda heard light footsteps coming down the hall. He did his best to throw most of the dirty clothes scattered around into the laundry basket and hide some of the clutter before Sonia made it to his door.

“Soda? It’s me, I’d knock but my hands are full.”

“Be right there.” He lanced around his room and deemed it acceptable before pressing his icepack back against his eye and opening the door.

Sonia smiled brightly at him, and he pretended not to notice the way her smile faltered when she first registered the icepack as he invited her in.

There was a small, low table in the middle of the room and Soda gestured for Sonia to set the tea down there. They both sat in uncomfortable silence for a moment, maybe this had been a bad idea after all, Soda wasn’t really in the mood to stumble through an awkward conversation right now.

Sonia reached for a cup at the same moment Soda did, and the strange mirrored movement caused them both to giggle a little, breaking some of the tension.

“I am sorry for coming over like this, I admit I simply wanted to check that you were okay and didn’t prepare a topic for conversations.”

“It’s alright, Sonia. I mean, I kind of knew, you never mess up tea.” Soda smiled at her as best he could while holding the icepack to his eye.

“I apologize for being deceitful.” She smiled back. “I simply couldn’t think of-”

Soda shifted the icepack in his hand, pulling it back from his face to readjust the cloth wrapped around it, only for Sonia to abruptly stop talking and cover her mouth.

Oh right, his eye probably looked pretty messed up right now.

He covered it back up quickly.

“Sorry Sonia, it’s-”

Sonia stood, and Soda assumed she was about to excuse herself, but instead she stepped around the table, knelt beside him, and pulled him into one of the tightest hugs he had ever experienced.

“I’m so sorry Soda. You d-don’t deserve any of this.” Was she… crying? “Your… the man who did this doesn’t deserve you as a son.” He could hear it for sure now, she was definitely crying. The lump in his throat came back in full force, and he had to fight not to sob along with her.

“S-Sonia, it’s alright, d-don’t cry…” God now he was crying.

“It’s not alright!” She yelled and pulled him further against her. Soda hid his face against her shoulder. “It’s really not alright, Soda…”

Sonia rubbed Soda’s back gently with one hand, while stroking his hair and keeping him close with the other, while he sobbed against her and did his best not to get any snot on her clothes.

She was soft and warm and comforting, and he couldn’t help but remember being held in much the same way by his mother, years ago before she had passed.

It made him sob harder, but Sonia just kept holding him.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other and crying together while their tea got cold.

Eventually, after they had both calmed down a little, Sonia released him, shifting her hand from Soda’s head and back to hold his free hand instead.

“Soda, I…” she looked up, into his good eye, “I think you’re very brave.”

He couldn’t help but blush.

“N-not really, I mean I was pretty scared…”

“But you are!” Sonia lifted his hand and clasped it between her own, holding it between her chest and his. “I don’t believe I would ever have been able to speak to my parents of my preferences had I not know before hand that they would be supportive! But you did! I think that makes you extremely brave!”

He didn’t feel brave, but maybe she had a point…

Wait.

“Your preferences?”

Sonia blinked and tilted her head.

“Gundham didn’t tell you?”

“N-no?” Wait, was the girl he had spent so long being creepily obsessed with not even into guys to begin with? “Sonia, are you, uh, not into dudes?”

“Oh, no I am, but I like women as well.” She blushed a little, but smiled. “I believe we are the same in that regard, correct?”

He just nodded.

Damn, first Hajime and now Sonia? He really needed to stop assuming all his friends were straight.

“But, uh, doesn’t that get complicated? Like with you being a princess and all?”

Why the fuck had he said that. That was like the opposite of the right thing to say.

He was definitely 2 for 2 with fucking up when his friends came out to him.

“Oh, a little. I am expected to produce an heir one day, but there are ways to do that even if my partner and I are not able to do so on our own.”

“Ah, right, that makes sense.”

Soda nodded and decided to chug his cold tea to stop himself from saying anything else dumb.

Sonia visibly cringed as he drank but didn’t stop him.

“You know I don’t mind making you some more, Soda.” She spoke as he lowered his now empty cup.

“N-no thanks, it’s good. Even cold it tastes fine.” He did his best to smile convincingly.

Sonia quirked an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, instead smoothing out her skirt and giving her own cold cup of tea a disdainful look.

There was another slightly awkward silence before she stood once more.

“Then I think… If you would not like any more tea, I shall leave and allow you to rest for the night.”

“Ah, yeah. Thank you… for the tea and… thank you.” Soda stood as he spoke, and Sonia reached out to squeeze his hand once more before gathering her things and heading for the door.

“Good night Soda, sleep well!”

“You too, Sonia.”

“Oh, and…” Sonia smiled and paused for a moment, flicking he eyes down to Soda’s chest. “You look very good in that shirt. It’s cute on you.”

With that she left, letting Soda close the door behind her.

His shirt is cute? What shirt was he even wearing?

He looked down.

He felt his whole face heat with embarrassment as he remembered he had thrown on one of Gundham’s shirts earlier.

Oh.

“It looks cute on you.”

So Sonia had definitely recognized it.

He covered his face with both hands and laughed at himself. Why was he even this embarrassed? Sonia had been one of the first people to know him and Gundham were dating. He was just being dumb.

He pulled the shirt up to his nose and inhaled, smiling.

He was pretty sure he knew the exact night the shirt had ended up in his room. They had both been a little drunk and giggly, happy in each other’s arms as they had collapsed onto Soda’s bed.

Soda’s heart throbbed at the memory.

He wanted to see Gundham.

It had gotten pretty late though, maybe sending a text first would be a good idea.

Soda picked up his phone and clicked on Gundham’s name to open the messaging tab, pausing once he did.

Three little dots appeared at the bottom of the conversation, then disappeared, then appeared again.

Soda waited, but a message never came through.

Was Gundham… unsure? Soda watched the dots and imagined his boyfriend typing and erasing messages, unsure what to say or even if he should say anything, and the thought made him smile.

He decided to put Gundham out of his misery.

I’m coming over. Let’s watch a movie

He grabbed a random movie off his shelf, he didn’t really care what they watched. His phone buzzed, then buzzed again.

Dearest, I know you need space right now, but I just wanted to remind you that I love you and that you may call on me for anyt

Ignore that! I did not mean to send it!

I am happy to hear you are coming to my abode, my consort, I will ensure it is ready for you.

So he really had been sitting there trying to come up with the perfect message to send Soda, huh?

God, Gundham was such a dork.

Soda loved him for it.

–

He wasn’t really sure what time it was. Movie credits were scrolling across the little TV screen on the other side of the room, playing gentle music over Gundham’s quiet snores.

Soda rolled himself over, leaving his head on Gundham’s chest but shifting from his side to his back, and stared at the ceiling.

He had spent a good many nights in this room over the past few months, but the ceiling wasn’t familiar the way the one back in his father’s house had been. He didn’t think he’d cry if he never saw this one again.

Gundham grunted in his sleep and wrapped an arm around Soda’s back.

But he’d cry if he never got to see Gundham again. Or Sonia, or Hajime, or any of his friends. Even Nagito.

He’d cry if he lost them, he’d cry if they got hurt, and he’d cry if they cried.

Because he loved them.

Because they loved him.

Because even if he had lost the home he had known all his life, many of his own possessions, and even the man he had called father, he realized he hadn’t lost everything.

His home was with Hajime, while they laughed and made jokes at each other’s expense.

His home was with Sonia, making polite conversation and sipping tea so good he could hardly believe it was store bought.

His home was here, in Gundham’s arms late at night, feeling safe and secure even as his whole world was being turned on its head.

His home was with the people he loved.

All he had lost that night was a house.

[thiswasinevitableid]

if you’re still taking meet ugly asks, could you do 01 or 13 for sternclay? nsfw please

Here you go! I went with 1.

we were set up on a blind date but it went horribly, so now you message me every time you have a good date because you think your tips will help me in the future, you ass.

Bzzbzz

Joseph picks up his phone and regrets it before he’s even done reading the waiting message.

Barclay: See, this is how you dress for a date at a casual place.

It’s accompanied by a photo of a headless torso, sporting a Ramones T-shirt and blue jeans.

He deletes the message. He told that asshole he was in the suit because Hayes kept him late to finish a report and he didn’t want to be any more behind for their date than he already was.

No, you know what, he’s had enough of this.

J.S: He’s dressed like a college student. No one told me you were a cradle robber.

Barclay: Just trying to help you do better next time ;)

This is the same line he gives Joseph every time he sends one of these texts

“It was great, it felt like a real conversation instead of an interrogation.”

“See, what made tonight nice was he didn’t look at his phone even once.”

“Now, what made this nice is that he didn’t mistake another guy for me on the way in.”

He has reasons, explanations, things that could make him look more like a man who had a bad day and less like the poster boy for the horrors of blind dating. But the one time he tried sharing his side of things, Barclay responded that he wasn’t doing this to make sense of their shitty date, but to make it easier on the next guy.

It was the last date in a long line of increasingly desperate attempts by his loved ones to find someone, anyone, for him to be with; being married to his work fills all his needs. Leave it to his older sister to spot that it wasn’t meeting many of his wants.

Joseph tosses the phone away, retrieves his take-out leftovers from the fridge. As he munches reheated green mango chicken, the city heading out into Friday night revelry without him, he decides that while he’s not about to take dating advice from a guy who can’t pull his head out of his ass long enough to consider someone else’s perspective, Barclay makes one good point: there’s always a next time.

And there’s no moment like the present to start planning for it.

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

Barclay cannot figure out why Logan chose this spot; it’s one step above gay cruising club. Not that he hasn’t had fun at those before, but he was hoping for somewhere quieter. Also somewhere with better food; you can tell a lot about a guy by what he orders, and fuck all about him when the only meal to be found is chips or the olive from a martini glass.

Still not the worst date he’s been on.

As Logan steers the conversation in promisingly steamy directions, Barclay glances at the bar and locks eyes with his biggest disappointment of the year. Joseph raises an eyebrow, then his face goes annoyingly neutral as he looks first at Logan and then to the bartender for another glass.

His date excuses himself and Barclay weighs how much of a dick he wants to be against how good Joseph looks tonight. He’s in a v-neck and a short jacket, dark-wash jeans making it easy to picture how satisfying hooking his legs over Barclays shoulders would be.

Barclay sidles up to the bar, leaning on it and smiling at Joseph, “You finally decide to put my advice to good use?”

“No.” Joseph replies, tarter than a cherry, and goes back to looking at his phone.

“Suit yourself, and have fun going home alone.”

The black-haired man squares his shoulders, turns so that Barclay gets a full-on view of a stunning face and sharp, blue eyes, “At least I won’t be going home with someone who’s using me for a prank video.”

“Pfft, whatever man, you’re just-” Barclay snaps his mouth shut as Joseph turns his phone, showing a Youtube channel hosted by none other than Logan.

“His modus operandi is to have viewers vote on which gay man he should go out with and string along the whole night until he reveals he’s straight.”

“I, I uh, that’s” his heart is in his shoes, “that’s not very nice.”

“That’s not all. There are three cameras recording your date.” Joseph points to three separate guys, “they’re using their phones, makes it hard to prove they’re not just texting or something else innocuous.”

He might cry. Worse, if he cries, he might owe Joseph an explanation.

“There you are baby, thought you’d run off.” Logan sets a hand on his arm and Barclay freezes, trying to work out a non-humiliating form of escape.

Joseph clears his throat, “Are you aware that recording people without their permission is illegal in this state?”

“Uh, no, but what the fuck does that have to do with me?”

“You, and those three gentleman you’re having film Mr. Cobb here, are all at risk of being charged with a misdemeanor.” Joseph’s voice is smooth and clear, utterly in control, and Barclay gets goosebumps as he pulls out his wallet and flashes an FBI badge, “I suggest you get out of here before you do something you regret.”

The quartet disappears in a cloud of body spray as Barclay slumps onto a stool and Joseph orders two more drinks, sliding one his way. Whiskey Soda, his favorite. He’d ordered it during their date.

They sip in silence for three songs before Joseph says, “I guess I passed the dubious honor of your worst date onto someone else.”

“You’re still a strong runner up.” It’s mean, but Barclay isn’t feeling very chipper right now.

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that bad! I was trying to learn as much about you as I could while switching from work mode to a date.”

“You made me feel like I was doing all the work!”

“If you’d given me more than a half hour of your time I could have fixed that.”

“Nah, I know when a date is doomed. No point in dragging it out. It wasn’t going to be fun.”

“I can be fun!” Joseph knocks back the rest of his drink, “I’ll prove it.”

Barclay snorts, “how?”

“I want a do over. Right now.” Lights dance across his skin and Barclay gets a whiff of gin and mint as he leans so they’re almost nose to nose, “Unless you’re afraid you’ll be the dud this time.”

“You’re on.” Barclay growls, “but don’t get your hopes up.”

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

Either his pillow sprouted fur overnight, or Joseph isn’t where he should be.

He cracks his eyes open, squinting in the muted, grey light sneaking in under the curtains. The room, while tidy, isn’t his, and the clock on the wall tells him he’s starting his Saturday out with oversleeping.

Barclay is sound asleep beside him, his broad, hairy chest rising and falling soothingly. A cursory peek under the blankets shows he’s a naked as Joseph is. As the agent slips from the bed and hunts down his clothes, he starts to remember why.

They’d done something in the club bathroom, a blow-job, that’s right, and the instant Barclay dragged him into his apartment Joseph shoved him onto the bed, yanked his pants off, and returned the favor. He remembers, as he surrenders to going commando rather than wear his pre-cum stained boxer briefs, wanting to sleep with his head on Barclay’s stomach, cum still on his lips, but the cook made a very convincing argument to come up and kiss him instead.

His pants are back on when his phone lights up from it’s spot on the floor.

Alert: Snowstorm predicted to last until 5 pm Sunday. Travel limited, recommended for emergencies only. At least five feet of snow predicted.

“Shit” he whispers, pushing the curtain aside to discover a world of smooth, white roof tops and impassable streets.

Jinglejingle

He spins, startled, as what he thought was a black pillow shakes out it’s ears and rises from a cushion at the foot of the bed. It’s the single most absurd dog he’s ever seen, like someone smushed a corgi and a Rottweiler together. It blinks at him, cocks it’s head, and then shifts its attention to the bed.

“Please don’t jump.” Maybe he can still sneak out on foot, or find somewhere else to wait out the storm.

The dog launches it’s tubular body onto Barclay, who “oofs” and is laughing before he even opens his eyes.

“Hey boy, yeah, I know, I know, didn’t let you in until way after bedtime.” The cooks deep voice is scratchy with sleep. The dog wiggles and digs at the blankets on his chest as he turns his head, smiling Joseph’s way, “morning babe.”

“Good morning.” Throwing himself out the window would result in hypothermia. Also a broken ankle. So no luck there.

Barclay notices his jeans, “Oh, uh, if you need to go that’s cool. I, uh” he yawns “I have a policy of making breakfast after a hook-up, but if you’re in a hurry I can just get you some coffee for the road. C’mon Sass, let me up.”

“I, um, I can stay. I don’t have much choice.”

“What do you--oh fuck, I knew we were getting snow this weekend but no one said anything about a fucking blizzard. Guess you’re crashing here for the weekend.”

“I guess so.”

Barclay’s smile shrinks, “Is that a shitty outcome?”

“No! Or, um, I just” Joseph sits on the bed, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t want to impose. I was trying to get out of here so I wouldn’t make things awkward since I, um, I don’t do this much.”

“Gotta say that was kinda obvious.” It’s a gentle tease, Barclay’s fingers flipping through his phone, “huh, when did I take a video last night?”

“I think you--oh, oh my lord.” Joseph claps his hands over his mouth, blushing at the memory.

“What, did I talk you into karaoke or somethi--holy fuck.” Barclay scoots to where Joseph is frozen, holding the screen where they can both see it. The same face growing excited beside him is looking up at the camera, lips wrapped around Joseph’s cock as a voice urges him on.

“You like that, big guy?”

Barclay nods, pulls off so he can drag his tongue up the shaft with a grin. Then he swallows it almost to the base, Joseph’s hand flying past the lens to stifle a moan.

“That’s it, show me how much you like it, s-so the next time you feel like sending me a snarky text you can watch this and remember just how much fucking fun you had sucking my dickAH.” A laugh as Barclay sits back on his heels, pulling off the condom.

“C’mon blue eyes, bet, bet you’re gonna look great when you cum, fuck, think I ruined these pants just watching you. Heh, you like that, like getting me hard and wet on the fucking bathroom floor.”

“Usually it’s, it’s the other waAAaay aroundohfuck, shit.” Cum spatters across Barclay’s face. The cook licks his lips, still smiling, as the camera sinks to his level, Joseph giggling behind it, “here, let, let me clean you up.”

“Don’t want everyone else to see your cum all over me?"

“Nngn. I, I mean no, not in actuality.” Joseph’s hand returns to the frame, gently cleaning Barclay’s cheek with toilet paper.

The video ends there. Joseph is red from his hips to his cheeks, but not so embarrassed that he misses Barclay rubbing his thighs together. Then the cook meets his eyes and sets the phone aside.

“I can delete it. Know your face isn’t in it but if you’re more comfortable with it gone, it’s gone.”

The offer alone calms him, “No, no it’s okay. Thank you for offering. I, um, since I’ll be here awhile, can I use your shower?”

“Sure, it’s just through there.” He tips his head at the door in the left wall, grabbing a robe from the door and heading into the chilly apartment, Sass clickclick-ing on the hardwood after him.

As always, the world is more manageable when he’s clean. A pair of sweatpants and a thick, blue sweater are waiting for him on the bed, and coffee-swirled air coaxes him into the kitchen. It’s small but immaculately organized, Barclay moving from stove to cabinet to fridge and back again in an intimate dance.

“Coffee on the left is yours. I’m doing pancetta in the omelettes; most of my friends are vegetarian so I never get a chance to bust it out.”

“That sounds delicious.” He picks up the mug, sighs as warms his chest, “mmm, you have real cream somewhere in this house.”

“Yep. Remember you said you liked the real stuff when you could get it. I drink mine black, but really these beans demand cream instead of milk; sets of the chocolate notes really nice.”

“I can never taste those. Same thing with wine. But I guess that’s why you’re the professional and I’m not.”

“That’s more a happy coincidence. I got into this to help with the bills when I was in high school. I wasn’t, like, combining flavors and deciding to be a cook like in Ratatouille or something.”

“That’s a Pixar movie, right?”

“Only the best one ever made. Have you really not seen it?

“I, um, I only watch kids movies if I’m babysitting my niece. Which doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.”

“Well, now I know what we’re doing after breakfast. Ah ah, Sass, not for you.” He shoos the dog from where it’s valiantly trying to double in length to reach the table.

“Is his name short for something?”

“Sasquatch.”

“Awwww.” Joseph crouches down to scritch behind one, floppy ear.

“His whole litter was named for cryptids; Nessie, Champ, Yeti, stuff like that.”

“‘Bray’ feels like an obvious one.” He smiles, then remembers not everyone is a nerdy UP agent, “sorry, never mind.”

“Uh uh special agent, I’ve been waiting to ask you about this. You don’t get to say you’re ‘like Fox Mulder’ and then not share more.” Barclay pulls out his chair, kisses his head when he sits down. He then listens to Joseph expound on canine cryptids of the midwest for fifteen minutes, fascinated the entire time.

“Y’know, I had a line cook who swore he’d been abducted by aliens.”

“What was his proof?”

By the time their plates are clean, Joseph has generated three alternative explanations and Barclay is staring at him with an expression straight from a rom-com. The cook sets up the movie while Joseph does the dishes, then pulls him under a mound of blankets.

“The heat in this place is shit, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.”

He enjoys the movie plenty, the weight of Barclay’s arm over his shoulder and, eventually, his waist, even more. They watch Ramen Girl for the hell of it, spooning on the couch while the snow makes dunes out of the sidewalk.

When the second movie is done, Joseph rolls so he’s facing the cook, “What should we do now?”

“Could keep watching movies, or bake something. I’ve got some cards and a few games in the closet. Or we could just cuddle and talk. I’m good with whatever.”

“...Could I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“You’ve been so sweet all day. Why were you such an ass about our first date?”

Barclay shifts, discomfort entering his eyes, “I was having a shitty week and was hoping the date would make me feel better. I ended up so anxious after it, felt like you wanted to be somewhere else, that I kinda took my frustration out by being a dick. I’m sorry. I, um, I wasn’t even on that many dates between now and then; I’d just text you what I’d wished had happened to fuck with you.”

“I should’ve known it; no one has that many good dates in a row.”

“Sorry.”

Joseph cups his cheek, “And I’m sorry for making you feel that way the first time. I had my reasons but, well, you still had a bad time because I was flustered and couldn’t get my mind off work.”

“Think you’ve more than made up for it.”

“Can I try again anyway?” Joseph kisses him, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his sweats.

Barclay’s lips curve up, “Bedroom?”

“Bedroom.”

Once Barclay is comfortably naked atop the blankets (space heater pointed at the bed all the while), Joseph asks if he has any condoms.

“Yeah, bathroom cabinet. But I’m not, uh, I don’t-”

“It’s not for penetration. You said last night that was a no for you.” In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, he watches him relax. If he ever finds out someone saw the tension in those muscles, heard the worry in that sweet, deep voice and pushed anyway, he’s going to set them on fire with his mind.

Barclay nestles his cheek on his pillow as Joseph fishes his swiss army knife from his jacket, puts his ass in the air and wiggles it expectantly as Joseph unrolls the cut latex.

“Is this okay?”

“Uh huh, I really love it when guys do this but, uh, it doesn’t happen much. The hair turns a lot of them off.”

“Cowards.” Joseph holds the makeshift dam in place. Barclay’s chuckle morphs into a moan as he presses his face between his asscheeks, tongue making an obscene sound against the latex. There’s a warmth to this angle that he loves, a tender sort of filthiness to the way Barclay pushes his ass back with little gasps of his name.

He doesn’t get to practice his technique often, but that makes it all the more pleasurable to re-acquaint himself with it now, find the ways of pressing and curving his tongue that make Barclay’s ass tense under his hands.

“Fuck, fuck, Joseph, I take it all back, every rude text, you’re gonna drive every date you get crazy, gonna make them wonder how they got so lucky to get someone so goddamn wild.”

“I don’t think I will. I think” Joseph kisses the small of his back, “I think it’s you. You bring it out in me, you make me want to do all the things I’d be ashamed to ask for the rest of the time.”

Barclay whimpers happily.

“I’m serious. There’s something about you, I feel like I can want what I want without shame.” He nips his right cheek once, gently, “or maybe it���s just that what I really want is you and everything else finds into line because of it.”

“Fuuuck, baby, please.” Barclays weight shifts as Joseph eats him out ever more messily, “wanna, wanna make you feel good.” He’s rubbing his dick, Joseph can tell by the sound.

“May I?”

“Uhhuh, fuck, c’mere” Barclay grabs him as soon as they’re both sitting up, “was gonna pound you into next week but I dont wanna waste time with the harness right now.”

“Then we can do that tomorrowAH, ohlord” his hand stutters on it’s way to Barclay’s cock as calloused fingers circle is dick, “god there is not a part of you that disappoints, you’re just a wet dream from top to bottom.”

“Aw, babe.” Barclay kisses his shoulder, groaning as Joseph thumbs his dick, “fuck, speaking of, you gonna tell me what you meant in the stall last night? About things being ‘the other way around.”

Now it’s his turn to hide his face, “Promise you won’t think I’m dirty?”

“Babe, your mouth was on my ass a minute ago. You’re dirty and I fucking love it.”

“I, um, I, when I travel for missions I look for, for places that have glory holes.”

“Oh fuck” Barclay ruts against his palm, “that’s a fucking amazing image blue eyes. You on your knees, trying to keep that fucking suit clean while a fucking parade of guys shove their dicks down your throat.”

“I, it’s an easy way for me to get off, I can edge myself until I’m done and then cum without anyone being the wise but, god, half the time I’d think about this, want this.” He speeds up his strokes, pumps his cock into Barclay’s fist.

“What, a hairy trans guy?” Barclay bumps their noses together.

“This” his free hand glides along Barclays arm where it’s holding him, “s-someone to see me, hold onto me, fuck the whole of me and not just the acceptable, easy part. But” he meets brown eyes, teases slick skin, “I, the other times I fucked someone like this it, it was like I was still in that fucking stall. Last night, today, I’m here, I want to be and I am.”

“Baby.” The word comes in a sweet rumble of understanding just as Joseph cums with a gasp. He holds on for dear life as Barclay joins their hands and guides his fingers along his dick, forces his mind to memorize the movements and shapes for next time.

Barclay cums with a groan, flinging his hands up to cup Joseph's head and kiss him. There’s cum on his arm, on Joseph’s fingers and now in his hair and he cannot bring himself to give a shit. Gradually the kisses trail to his cheeks, his neck, his collarbone, and then Barclay is nestling his head under his chin.

“I, um, I think it might have been a good thing. That first date. I can be overly focused on work, can forget to turn off the special agent questioning mode and just talk like a person. I’m glad you saw those parts of me and, um, and decided to give me another chance.”

“Hey, you saw that I could be kinda sensitive and stubborn when I think someone did something wrong and you still saved my ass from being humiliated on the internet.” Barclay sighs as Joseph pets his hair.

“Do you, um, want to keep getting to know each other? Good parts and bad?”

Barclay looks up at him. Sees him.

“Yeah, blue eyes, I do.”

[ryosei-hime]

An Unconventional Date

Sallie May comes to Imp City and takes Loona out on her first date. Warning for violence and mentions of intention of violence specifically towards trans imps. Also available on AO3.

Loona showed up to meet Sallie May outside the club she’d suggested, but didn’t see her anywhere. She had her phone out, trying to text her but all her texts went unread. She scanned the crowd of patrons waiting to get in, looking for any sign of the wrath imp, but no luck. Then her ears pricked up and swiveled like satellite dishes. 

A whistle just low enough to be covered by the noisy crowd sounded, only other Hellhounds responding to it in confusion. Loona turned and followed it to the alley next to the club where Sallie May stood. 

“Hey, girl.” 

God, how did she look cool hiding behind a fuckin’ dumpster? 

“I tried to text you, but..”

“Girl, you don’t bring yer phone on a date like this. You might as well be wearin’ a trackin’ device.” 

Uh oh. Loona hadn’t realized she was going on a date with a conspiracy nut. She should have known there had to be something wrong with her. 

“Uh...do you care if the phone companies know you’re gay or…?” 

Sallie May laughed. 

“Hell, no. We ain’t goin’ in there. I got more excitin’ plans for tonight. Gotta throw off Mildred and your Pa.” 

“He’s not my pa,” Loona deadpanned.

Besides, Blitz didn’t even know she was out with Sallie May at all. That was a fight she’d save for later when he found out through Millie apparently. 

“Fair enough. Come on, let's find somewhere to hide that phone of yers.” 

Loona clutched her phone to her chest and put her ears back. 

“Somewhere safe,” Sallie May amended. “It’s not welded to yer hand, is it?” 

Sallie May searched out a public locker at a bus station to drop Loona’s phone off in. It took a few tries to actually let go of it, but Sallie May was very convincing. She gave her one of those cool smiles and slipped up beside her, sliding her side against Loona’s as she did so, head back as their eyes met. The phone dropped from her hand with a clatter and Sallie May slammed the door shut, locking it. 

“Where are we going and why can’t I have my phone?” Loona demanded as she followed her out of the bus station. 

Her arms were crossed as she became keenly aware that she didn’t really know what to do with her hands without her phone. Sallie May stopped and put her hand on a hip. 

“You work for a killin’ business, right?” 

“Uh yeah.” 

Loona didn’t know what that had to do with anything. 

“But that Pa of yers-” 

Loona shot her a look. 

“Yer boss, from what I hear, don’t let you do much of the killin.” 

“Yeah, so?”

“That’s a waste of them pearly whites if you ask me,” Sallie May said with a wink. “So, tonight, I’m lettin’ you do the killin’ and I’ll hide the bodies.” 

“Dude, really?” 

“Oh, yeah, baby. I gotta see what you can do.”

Loona’s tail started wagging as she trailed after Sallie May, excitement actually showing on her face. Maybe she should have asked more questions about who they were killing and why, but honestly, who gave a fuck? She let the wrath imp lead her through the party district and into a seedier part of the city. Blitz would flip if he knew she was here. 

“Here’s the plan. I got a meetin’ set up with these fuckers. Don’t worry bout why. All you gotta do is stand next to me and look good.” 

Was this a date or did Sallie May just ask her out to play the part of a Hellhound guard? 

“When I do this..” Loona’s ire at that possibility vanished when a finger slid up the back of her thigh lightly. “You let loose.” 

“Let loose?” 

“Yeah, baby, just let loose. Rip 'em up. Get primal.” 

“Uh...okay. Sure.” 

Loona stood next to Sallie May at the door, trying her best to look tough which really just looked like her normal aloof stance with a slight snarl. They were let in by a somewhat taller imp, closer to Blitz’s height. He glanced around them on either side before leading them into the dark building. Loona wouldn’t admit to it but she started feeling a little uncomfortable. This was shady as fuck. What the hell was Sallie May getting them into? 

They were taken into a room where another six imps waited, milling about around a table where a much larger demon sat. Loona couldn’t identify what he was, but he loomed over the others, wrapped in robes and a cloak. She could only make out two pairs of shining red eyes in the hood. Shit, what was this, some kinda mafia? 

Sallie May stopped at the end of the table, looking no less her aloof self in the presence of this mob. She put a hand on her hip and looked the mysterious demon up and down. 

“Hey big boy. Nice to meet ya.” 

“You’re not as tall as I expected,” the booming voice responded.

“Don’tchya worry about that, baby. For what I lack in height, I make up for in feistiness, ain’t that right, bitch?” 

Loona stiffened as Sallie May slapped her ass.

“Uh. Yeah.” 

The mysterious figure laughed. 

“She’s here as part of the audition, I presume.” 

“Oh, yeah. How’m I supposed to show ya the goods if I ain’t got nothing to use em on?” 

Loona looked confused for a moment before Sallie May put a hand on her back and pushed her to the table. Loona froze as Sallie May’s hands ran down her sides and cupped her ass. Okay what the hell? Felt nice and all, but what the - Oh and now she was….pretending to grind against her? Loona blushed as all eyes in the room turned to them. 

Sallie May bent over her briefly, hand slipping down between her legs. Loona shivered as her finger slid up her thigh. Oh, right, the sign. As soon as Sallie May felt her tense, she leapt over Loona and straight at the mysterious demon, a knife drawn from her shorts while he was distracted by the show. Loona turned her attention on the smaller imps and they scattered as she ripped into the throat of the nearest one. 

By the time they were done the room was littered with bodies and Loona was staring at Sallie May as she returned to the body of the big demon. She kicked it repeatedly and gave it a few more stabs. 

“So, uh, before we clean up. What the hell?” Loona demanded. 

“Sex traffickin ring,” Sallie May spit on the body. “They target a very specific population.” 

She pointed to her horns with a raised eyebrow. Took Loona a moment longer than she liked to get the hint. 

“Oh. Damn. What the fuck?” 

“Right? They say it’s auditions fer porn, but once they get ya in, ya don’t come out. I had to expand my killin’ territory anyways, so I might as well take out some trash while I’m at it.” 

“Yeah, Fuck those assholes. But you could have warned me. Shit.” 

Sallie May grinned at her wickedly. 

“Where’s the fun in that?”  

She sidled up to her and put a finger to her chin, turning those cool eyes on her. 

“Ya mad?” 

Loona scoffed but then couldn’t help but smile. Something about that faux innocence on Sallie May’s face amused her. She blushed and looked off to the side, hands shoved into pockets.

“No. Just. Warn me next time. Damn.” 

“Good. Cause we got three more of their meetups to take out. And we gotta do it fast. Grab a body.” 

Loona watched the wrath imp as she dragged the much larger demon to the center of the room. Damn, she was cool. She wiped some blood from her muzzle before hurrying to help her. She’d never been on a date before, but she was pretty sure this was the coolest one she’d ever have. 

[shera-dnd]

It’s here! The ultimate crossover poly ship we’ve all been waiting for!

But wait, there is more! This is a buy one get two deal, so there is a bonus crossover poly ship added there for free!

Also if you’d like your fic ideas to be written by me or just want to help me keep the lights on, consider donating to my ko-fi (rules over here)

alright with that out of the way. It’s time to enjoy some gay shit

“Sato, tell me again why we’re doing this,” Catra asked with a loud groan, shielding her face as best as she could.

It was a beautiful and sunny summer day at the park, and that meant Catra and Asami were suffering like the sad goths they were as they were dragged along by the ever cheerful Korra and Adora.

“Because we love them dearly,” Asami huffed, exhausted from the heat, “and we can’t just keep them inside all summer.”

“Ugh, are we going on a picnic with our girlfriends here, or walking our dogs?” Catra complained.

As if on cue Adora and Korra turned to look at them, energetically waving at them as they finally found a nice place to set up. Their smiles were so bright that Catra was happy she had put on sunscreen earlier.

“Both,” Asami said, adjusting her sunglasses.

Slowly they walked up to the over excited duo. Thankfully the two of them managed to find a nice patch of shade they could set up under, and not have to melt under the sun like a couple of angsty popsicles.

“Blanket?” Adora asked, promptly taking the leading and organizing position she was born for.

“Check!” Catra replied, getting a cheap picnic blanket from her bag.

“Water?”

“Check,” Korra answered, taking several bottles of water from her backpack.

“Sandwiches?”

“Check,” Asami said, before adding, “I made them.”

“And sodas?”

Korra shoved her arm back into her backpack and began yanking all the soda cans out with far too much enthusiasm. The three of them stopped and glared, getting her to stop before she could slam the cans down...again. As hilarious as it would have been to watch Korra accidentally spray herself again, they actually wanted to drink their sodas this time.

Adora gave them all a satisfied nod, before proudly declaring, “and with that, our picnic date is ready to start!”

“Wow, so romantic, Adora,” Catra rolled her eyes, “nothing makes a girl feel more special than a bunch of checklists.”

“Well I appreciate it when a girl comes prepared,” Asami countered, giving Adora a kiss on the cheek for support.

“Of course you do, Sato,” Catra shook her head and rolled her eyes.

The two of them stuck their tongues at each other for a bit, in what their girlfriends could only assume was their more...unique approach to flirting.

Deciding now was a good time to change the topic away from those two dorks, Korra approached the trio with her arms behind her back.

“Hey, Adora,” she called, earning a glare from Catra, who had nearly patented that line, “you sure we aren’t missing something?”

Adora checked her list a second time, even rereading the things she brought there herself, “I don’t think so?”

Korra smiled as she brought her hands forward, revealing the football she had been hiding behind her. Adora’s hands flew to her mouth to contain a gasp, and looked up at Korra as if she had just whipped out a wedding ring. Catra and Asami were extremely unimpressed.

They barely got to finish setting up before those two darted off to go run around and throw that ball like the pair of adorable goofballs they were.

“Looks like it’s just the two of us again, Applesauce,” Asami commented, sitting comfortably in the shade.

“Yup,” Catra nodded, sitting next to her. She allowed a long pause to pass by before adding, “wanna makeout?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” Asami replied, scooting closer and hooking her arms around Catra’s neck.

Catra leaned in, lips slightly parting as they came closer to Asami’s… before being so rudely interrupted by Korra clearing her throat. The two edgy idiots looked up at her, seeing her and Adora standing over them with crossed arms.

“Don’t we do this every day at school?” Korra asked, brow raised in annoyance.

“Yeah,” Catra replied, refusing to move away from Asami, “your point?”

“This is a date,” Adora added, hitting them with her most powerful puppy dog eyes, “can’t you guys please play with us for a bit?”

Both of them groaned and looked at each other. Asami looked ready to give in at the slightest hint of that adorable face, but Catra had years of experience with saying no to it.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Catra answered.

“Oh well,” Adora sighed, “you asked for it.”

They were barely given a moment to process what that meant, before Korra and Adora hoisted them up, and tossed them over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes. Asami yelped loudly, but accepted her fate. Catra, on the other hand, kicked and screamed the entire way, nearly punching Adora in the face more than once.

“I’ll fucking kill you!” She shouted, “put me down, or I fucking swear!”

Adora simply laughed as she carried her girlfriend along to the nice open space where they were playing just a moment ago.

“Only if you promise to play with us,” she replied.

“Fine!” Catra yelled, “just put me down!”

Adora gently put her down and shot her a beaming smile. Oh she was lucky she was so cute, or Catra would have kicked her ass right now. Instead she just adjusted her clothes, fixed her hair so it would be the correct kind of messy, and huffed.

“So what exactly are you making us play?”

“We don’t need to play an actual game,” Korra answered, “we just wanted to have fun with you guys.”

Catra seemed unconvinced. They should have known she wouldn’t participate if she couldn’t make a competition out of it.

“Okay, how about this,” Adora offered, “we split into teams of two, and we try to just toss the ball between team members without letting the other two catch it. Whoever keeps the ball with their team the longest wins. Sounds fun for you?”

Catra pondered for a moment, seeming satisfied with these terms of engagement she declared, “I’m on team Korra!”

“What!?” Adora exclaimed, her expression one of utter and absolute betrayal, “why?”

“She’s the tallest one here,” Catra explained, casually, “it’s an obvious tactical advantage.”

“By an inch!” Adora countered, still stunned that Catra would ever abandon her like this...again.

“Don’t worry, Adora,” Asami said, putting a hand on her shoulder for reassurance, “we’ll make sure she regrets that”.

Oh no. Korra and Adora looked at each other as they both realized that they may have made a terrible mistake.

What followed was easily the most intense game of keepaway any of them had ever played. Though intensity was just about the only thing Catra and Asami were providing for this match up. Not that the other two minded much - they were genuinely just happy to play with their girlfriends for once - but they were starting to worry one of them was gonna end up doing something stupid.

It wasn’t long until they were proven right. Catra caught a ball meant for Adora and instead of throwing it to Korra, she decided the best strategy was to just run for it. The three of them watched stunned as she bolted off into the park like she was being chased by the hounds of hell. Asami gave chase soon after, so the assumption wasn’t all wrong.

Korra and Adora just stood there, watching as their girlfriends ran after each other, shouting insults at one another.

“We should have known that was gonna happen,” Adora commented with a defeated sigh.

“Well, at least we got them to exercise for once,” Korra offered.

“Yeah,” she nodded, watching those two for just a bit longer before adding, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” Korra shrugged, “not like they’re gonna be back any time soon.”

~~~

Korra leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the cool breeze that blew past their little spot. She took a nice, long sip of her soda and let out a satisfied sigh. Yeah, this picnic was just what she needed.

“Water,” groaned the mostly dead girl to her side.

Catra laid there, sprawled face down on the picnic blanket, barely able to do anything but groan, and complain after completely draining herself like that. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, playing with her girlfriend’s hair before handing her the much needed cold water.

The poor girl groaned something sounding almost similar to a thank you, before chugging the whole bottle down in record time and then flopping back to her sprawled position.

“So what did we learn?” Adora asked, with that particular tone she had at times that made Korra wonder if she ever considered becoming a teacher one day.

“Never to exercise again,” Catra answered.

“No,” she corrected, “don’t over exert yourself

“Also don’t wear all black to a picnic,” Korra added, “I’m surprised you two didn’t cook alive.”

“We did,” Asami replied.

“And that’s why we brought all this water,” Adora said proudly as she handed Asami her own water bottle.

“What would we do without you?” Asami praised.

“We wouldn’t have gone out in this fucking heat that’s for sure,” Catra complained.

“Can you do something other than complain?” Asami asked.

“No,” she replied without a second of hesitation, “also scoot over, you’re hogging all the shade.”

“Sorry, Applesauce, but I won. I hold all the shade privileges now,” she proudly declared, earning a weak little kick from a completely burned out Catra.

“Don’t be like that,” Adora sighed and crawled closer to her girlfriend. She ran her fingers through Catra’s hair, scratching her in this very particular way that only Adora knew how to do, and soon it was like angry asshole Catra had never been there, now replaced with just soft asshole Catra.

“Asami is right,” Catra said, sounding so content with everything, “what would we do without you?”

“Oh, are we showing her some love now?” Korra asked, scooting closer and hugging Adora from behind, “mind if I join in? ‘Cause I got plenty.”

Following her example the other two joined in the PDA, Asami leaning against her shoulder, and Catra resting her head on her lap. Adora looked like she was on the verge of tears.

“Y-You guys,” she whined, trying not to crumble into an emotional mess, “I love you so much.”

“We love you too,” Korra answered, kissing her cheek. The others hummed in agreement.

“This means a lot,” she replied, sniffing loudly, “but you’re all really sweaty and it’s way, way too hot for PDA right now.”

Korra and Asami muttered some agreements and promptly moved away, fanning themselves a little to help cool down. Catra, on the other hand, refused to move and in fact even pressed a little closer.

“Are you gonna move?” Adora asked, amused.

“Nope,” Catra replied, “you’re too comfortable.”

Not wanting to disturb this rare moment of peace, Adora accepted her fate, and returned to her duty as Catra’s primary source of scratches.

After that initial burst of energy the rest of the day was surprisingly peaceful. Well, besides a small argument over who had the worst taste in music, and who should or shouldn’t be allowed to have the aux cord. But other than that it was a calm and peaceful day.

Slowly but surely, the shade grew a bit longer and the day grew a bit colder. Night was about to fall, and it was time to move to part two of their wonderful summer date. Milkshakes at the diner. Korra’s kinda sorta aunt Kya ran the place with her wives, so she let Korra and all her friends - and girlfriends - hangout for as long as they wanted.

The four of them greeted Kya before taking their usual table. Catra did not waste a single second trying to sit like a normal person, she promptly tossed her legs over Adora’s lap, and leaned back against the wall, phone already in hand.

“Hey, look at that,” she commented, “Blight dyed her hair purple.”

“Maybe she decided green hair was too straight for her,” Korra joked, “I’m surprised she didn’t go with blue.”

“Well, I think purple works really well for her,” Adora commented, “I mean, all her clothes are already black and purple.”

“All of your clothes are white or red, but I don’t see you dying your hair,” Catra commented, archiving the mental image of redhead Adora for later.

Adora opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Asami, “babe, your hair is wonderful, don’t let her bully you into doing something stupid with it.”

Catra looked ready to throw her phone, “hey, I aint bullying anyone!”

“I see you kids are as cheerful as ever,” Castaspella greeted as she reached them, putting their food on the table, “here are your milkshakes, and the fries are on the house.”

“We really don’t mind paying for it, aunt Casta,” Korra assured her.

“Nonsense, let us spoil you kids a little,” Casta replied, with a wave, “besides, consider this a little thank you for helping our niece get a date.”

“Wait!” Catra interrupted, very confused for a moment, “Amity is your niece?”

“No, silly, I meant Luz,” she chuckled, “she was so in love with that Blight girl that she wouldn’t stop talking to Lilith about how amazing she was. It was adorable.”

Adora blinked a couple of times as she realized that meant that Luz and Glimmer were technically related now. She then vowed to herself to neverr let them find out, their power and chaos combined would be far too much for the world.

“Uh, glad we could help I guess?” Korra offered with a weak smile, completely unaware of the small crisis going on in Adora’s head. Aunt Casta laughed a little at the awkwardness, before leaving to tend to the other tables.

And now that they were left alone it was time to dig in. As usual Adora practically inhaled her food, and had to be stopped by Catra before she choked on something. Also as usual they were all dipping their fries in their milkshakes, with the sole exception of Asami.

“I still don’t know how you guys manage to eat that,” she commented.

Adora loudly swallowed a whole portion of milkshake covered fries in one go - earning an exasperated sigh from Catra - and answered, “it’s good!”

“Is it though?”

“What? Is this unsuitable for your refined palate, princess?” Catra teased.

“It’s…weird,” she replied.

“Hey, I’m weird, and you still love me,” Korra commented, leaning a little closer to her.

“You know what I meant,” she complained even as she leaned back against Korra.

“Don’t you wanna at least give it a try?” Korra asked, offering one of her own fries, “for me?”

That was a cheap trick, and Korra knew it, but it worked. Asami leaned in and took a bite of those fries without even taking them from Korra’s hand. There was a certain romance to eating food from your lover’s hands, or at least there would be if her two other lovers weren’t being little shits and snickering the entire time.

Asami glared at the two of them as she slowly ate her fries, trying to properly savor them, to fully grasp their flavor profile. Adora did a little heart with her hands and blew her a kiss in an attempt to mitigate her annoyance.

It worked better than she would like to admit.

“So how is it?” Korra asked.

Asami swallowed and paused, seeming to ponder her answer for a moment. “It was...better than I expected.”

Korra laughed and shot her a beaming smile, “told you it was good.”

Asami couldn’t respond for a moment as she was too busy being reminded that Korra was a blessing to humanity, and that she was so lucky to be able to call her her girlfriend.

“Well uh...thanks for making me try it,” she mumbled. Trying her best to save herself before Catra and Adora - especially Catra - could make any comments on her loss of composure, Asami dipped one of her fries on her milkshake and offered it to Korra, “here.”

Korra eagerly and happily took a bite off of it.

“That’s so fucking gay,” Catra commented.

“Catra, we’ve all been dating for months,” Adora countered.

“Yeah, your point?” She asked, sticking her tongue out at her.

“You’re the worst, you know that?” Asami replied.

“Complain all you want, princess. You all love me, and you know it.”

The table collectively groaned - Asami burying her head in her hand - all fully aware that she was completely right.

~~~

Eventually the conversation died down. It was late and they had spent all day with each other, but they all knew they’d have to part ways eventually. They all knew they’d probably see each other tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and every day for as long as they could. But that didn’t mean they enjoyed bringing the date to a close.

Adora especially seemed extra clingy today as she gave all three of her girlfriends tight, rib-crushing hugs. The others were far more subtle about it, but it was still there. In the lingering touches after a hug, the yearning looks after a kiss. It was that unspoken want to stay just a little longer, to never let go.

Maybe one day they’d all walk together to their own home, and cuddle together in their own bed, but today they all had different places to return to and they had to go their separate ways. In the end only Korra was left standing in front of the diner.

“Hey, kid,” aunt Kya called, “you want a ride back to your parent’s place?”

“You really don’t--”

“What did Casta say about letting us spoil you?” She interrupted. There was no arguing with her.

Next thing Korra knew she was in Kya’s car, watching the lamp posts pass by them as she took her home.

“You should bring them over more often,” Kya commented.

“I’ll try,” Korra replied.

“I’m serious,” she insisted, “you know we all love when you bring the girls over. It reminds us of the good old days.”

“The good old days?” Korra asked, somewhat amused.

“Back when we were your age,” she explained, “back then it wasn’t exactly okay for a girl to want to be with another girl, let alone two. But even then we knew we wanted nothing more than to be together, just the three of us, for as long as life would let us.”

Korra thought back to that idea of sharing a place with them, living every day with them, making days like this the norm. It all sounded so wonderful.

“Yeah,” she replied, “I think I get it.”

[strawbrrysun287]

Office Chaos #1

Hi everyone!! Recently I got into writing again and decided to cross post on here and AO3! If you take the chance to read it I hope you enjoy it <3 This will be part of a series of one shots! Happy Reading <3<3<3

If there was one thing Seokjin could safely say, it was that he was a confident gay. He would always throw a wink or a kiss to baristas, those who held the door open for him, or just anyone within the distance of him if he was feeling particularly playful.

That being said he was also openly gay. In no way shape or form was he afraid or worried about showing the person he truly was. Be it soft pink off-the-shoulder sweaters, a pair of heeled boots that made his bum look like it was carved by the gods (fun fact: it was), or even a black shirt with pastel lettering literally saying (I’m Gay, Suck It).

This was amazing for his social and love life because there was no confusion platonically or sexually. However, a certain middle-aged squat ugly fuckwad who was too dense to realize sooner Seokjin’s sexuality despite all the signs decided to fire him solely for Seokjin giving a customer, a fellow gay, his number.

In his defense, the customer was cute, was hitting on him, and was even interested and gave his own number to Seokjin as well. So all in all, who could blame Seokjin? He was young, horny, and single.

But back to the original issue. He was fired for being himself which led him to where he is now. Walking down the busy streets of Seoul heading to some gaming design company for an interview as a personal assistant to the CEO. It was a major jump from a barista to PA but he had experience… in high school, he was student council president, led three clubs, and even fixed their student budget so that way they could throw a fun concert/overnight party for the graduates.. Okay, maybe that one was a little selfish. It was still experience though! College didn’t exactly go as planned but he still was involved in the radio station and another club… although he couldn’t for the life of him remember what the club was about.

As he arrived in front of the building he could feel his heart beating against his rib cage just the tiniest bit more. He was confident though, he could do this. It would be a breeze. Throw a wink or kiss at whoever was interviewing him, talk about his experience, talk up himself and his abilities, then leave with the job and start the following Monday.

Walking inside of the building left him just the slightest breathless. Fuck. Who designed this building? Who PAID for the building? Or the interior decorating? As he tried calculating it in his head he vaguely heard someone clearing their throat but didn’t pay it any attention. After a few more minutes he finally snapped out of his calculations when the throat-clearing wouldn’t stop. He was two seconds from shoving a glass of water down the person’s throat only to look around and realize the throat-clearing had been directed at him.

With a guilty smile flashed towards the main receptionist, Seokjin finally made his way up to the desk gripping the strap of his bag even tighter.

“Kim Seokjin? I’m here for an interview with a Mr. Kim? For his personal assistant?” Despite the flash of nervousness when he was caught staring into space he quickly put the confident smile back on. The receptionist seemed less than pleased though.

“Elevator down the hall to the right. Floor 35. Park Jimin will help you from there. Try not to stare off into space again, yes?” With a sinister smirk, the lady lifted her hand just to point down the hallway and Seokjin took that as a dismissal which is exactly what it was. It didn’t stop him from mumbling down the hallway the whole time though.

“Honestly? With that kind of attitude, it’s amazing someone hasn’t dumped their coffee over her by… accident... “ Once inside the elevator he hit the button for the 35th floor and listened to the boring music as the numbers flashed above the elevator doors showing what floor it just passed. Once the doors opened for the 35th floor he took a deep breath and stepped out.

Immediately he noticed an adorable guy, younger than him with bubblegum pink hair and the cutest smile when his eyes crinkled. Okay, maybe this place wasn’t all bad. That was until he heard a deep voice shouting, seemingly the pink-haired man’s name if the way his head snapped over was any indication, and then there was a body colliding with his sending him straight to the floor with the other man on top of him.

“Kim Taehyung!! You need to watch where you are going!!” Pink-haired guy’s voice rang out. Seokjin wouldn’t be surprised if the entire floor didn’t hear the shrill yell. Which seemed plausible as there were four other heads that poked out from different rooms like little peeping parrots. Well, this was turning out to be quite the impression to leave on the people he would hopefully soon be working with.

“Sorry, Jiminie! But!! We got the house! I just got the email and we can close on the house today but we have to be there within the next hour!”

“Taehyung I swear on Yoongi’s new laptop th-”

“Don’t be swearing on my things Park Jimin! I will skin you alive!!” A voice seemingly coming from nowhere yelled in offense.

“... that you better be telling the truth or else I will make you sleep our on the balcony for the rest of the week.”

“It’s real. Like really real. The realest real you can really real kind of real! But we have to GO. NOW!”

“Okay okay! Fuck. I gu-.. Oh… Hello there. I uh… kinda forgot you got thrown to the ground in the process. I hope you aren’t injured? No injuries right? Taehyung can’t afford to be sued we are closing on a house today. Uh… if I make Namjoon Hyung give you the job would you be willing to forget this entire mess? He still owes me because of that ridiculous picture I took of him a few weeks ago when he decided to get shit-faced.”

It was official. Seokjin clearly hit his head too hard on the floor and now he was in some kind of dream drama. Shouldn’t the drama involve some super hot guy? A best friend who has his own issues but they support each other no matter what? What about the chaotic couple who he questions how they are still alive? Well… he might have found the chaotic couple. But that didn’t mean anything else. Once he realized he was being spoken to he had to blink a couple of times in order to clear his head and only vaguely caught the end.

“You… you would force your boss to give me the job just so I don’t sue the guy who knocked my ass to the ground? What if I tell you I wasn’t planning on suing him anyway? Although it did kind of hurt but if you could still get your boss to give me the job that would be fantastic and I would kiss the floor you walk on because this job is desperately needed and I’m too handsome to be walking from building to building begging for a job.”

Finally getting up from the ground he rubbed the back of his head where it hit the floor before fixing the wrinkles in his shirt. As he finished getting straightened (HA) out again another deep voice that was almost addicting echoed from down the hall along with heavy footsteps and deep down Seokjin just KNEW that the person coming towards him was the big boss. AKA the one who would hopefully be signing his checks if he got the job. Before he could utter a single word bubblegum hair spoke up again.

“Namjoon Hyung! This is Kim Seokjin, your new personal assistant. Long story short, Me and Tae got the house but in his excitement he kind of barreled into your new assistant here and sent him hurtling towards the floor, and because I’m a good honest person I told him I would assure him the job.”

Namjoon stared at bubblegum hair, Jimin?? In what seemed like absolute boredom like this was a daily occurrence. Well then again, it might be. Things were already more than a little chaotic but chaos is where Jin thrived.

“Jimin. You can’t just give people jobs because Taehyung knocked them down. You have so far given away a car, an apartment, a date, a fashion shopping spree, and part of your investment in the company which I was thankfully able to get back all because Tae didn’t watch where he was going. You know, apologizing in a HEARTFELT way will do the job nine out of ten times.”

“Okay you may speak some facts but I already gave the job to Seokjin and I already read over his resume. He seems like he can tolerate you well enough and you need an assistant to start ASAP because Tae and I have to go sign for the house okay hyung? Make sure you show him the ropes and don’t fuck it up! Bye!!”

With that Seokjin and Namjoon stared as Jimin dragged Taehyung along into the elevator with a cheeky smile and flirty wave before the elevator doors closed on the image that left the pair sputtering.

“Well… I guess they won’t be back till tomorrow afternoon. At least all my morning meetings are finished so I shouldn’t have to worry too much. Ah. Kim Seokjin-sii I apologize for the uh..”

“Chaos?” Jin supplied with a cheeky grin of his own.

“I suppose that is the best possible term for what happens on the 35th floor. Since Jimin already gave you the job I am in no way able to deny it and if I’m being honest I am in desperate need of an assistant as all my paperwork is piling up and I’m not sure where the mailroom is or where the place I normally get coffee from is and the coffee here is made by my director of media and he makes it as black as his soul is what he says at least and no amount of sugar makes it any better.”

And that’s when it happened. When Jin went from being the confident flirty gay to the shy flustered panicked gay that he always read about in stories. Namjoon smiled and he had dimples. Fucking dimples. There was no way the man standing in front of him was real. Tall, handsome, successful, understanding, kind, big hands, muscled if the fabric fighting for its life stretched over Namjoon’s biceps and thighs were anything to go by, and he had fucking D I M P L E S. Who did this Kim Namjoon think he was? God? Actually, that may be true. It wasn’t until he realized he was about to suffocate did Seokjin exhale the air he was holding in before stuttering out a hasty reply.

“Assistant? Now? Like now now? Me? For you? Coffee? I’m good with coffee and with paperwork. Yeah. I can 100% do that for you, Mr. Kim. And there is no need for formalities you can just simply call me Jin as I will be working closely with you. With you. Closely. Working. Yeah. Now?”

Seokjin knew the second the last syllable left his mouth that he was an idiot. A certified idiot who shouldn’t be allowed to be the personal assistant for a business of Namjoon’s caliber but like hell, he was going to give up the opportunity to get to know the taller man and completely wow him. Fuck was he even gay? It didn’t even matter. He could figure that out later down the line but first…

“Just tell me where to sign Mr. Kim and we can begin our new… partnership as boss and assistant. I promise I’ll do everything to learn the ropes quickly to help make your life a little less hectic.”

“Namjoon is just fine Jin. Even though I’m your boss I like to keep a close relationship with those who work close with me. You will find everyone on this floor is on a first name basis and the chaos is real and alive everyday.” And there were those fucking dimples again.

Maybe Seokjin needed to send a gift basket to his homophobic ex-boss because this new adventure at Kim. Co was going to be fun.

Chaos and all.

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas]

A weird request but I'm shooting my shot: Kohga did such a good job of shapeshifting into Urbosa in AoC... any chance he'd try to do it again just to see what it's like to fuck in a female-presenting body? 😅

Oooooh this is a SPICY idea. You guys have such good ideas, it's impossible to get anything else done around here. Let me tell you how I'D think it'd go.

Kohga loved men. Big, burly men who could throw him across the room like a rag doll, fuck his ass into oblivion, and only call him back when they wanted another spin. Unfortunately, getting fucked was growing tiresome. Wild of HIM to say, he was aware. But as he sat there at a stable, drinking and being alone, he realized; there were so many men here, and while he could charm his way into their pants, he wanted to mix it up. Then it occurred to him. He could go for the straight boys. The cuties who'd give their boots up for a chance to talk to a girl. So.

Why not BE just that dream girl for a night? Finishing off his drink, he walked out of the stable, and stepped foot outside. He used the tranquil river water as a mirror, and sgape shifted into Urbosa. 

"Er...maybe not her. If she found out, not even Sooga could save me. Let's keep the base, change a few things here…"

Long, red hair, right up to the ass (Kohga was most saddened to see this go, but unfortunately Gerudo women could NOT handle that kinda power), held up in a simple ponytail. Nice, full nose, plush pink lips, and of course, those trademark gerudo hips. Couple that with a nice red skirt (long enough to cover, but not completely. Men loved some leg), and a nice top piece that BARELY pardoned itself from being a bra. He had to hand it to himself, he got CANS. A little bit of jewelry, some heels, and he looked BEGGING to get fucked.

"Alright….'Kiki', let's get you some dick. Kiki sounds right. Assuming they'll even remember me past these titties."

He walked back inside, casually, and holy SHIT did he get looks. Starved boys eager for a meal, and Kohga was SERVING. He fought the urge to grin, and put up a docile front. Gerudo women were strong, fierce, but not this one. At least, not yet. He wanted to draw these poor unfortunate souls in before he showed any of his true colors.

"Excuse me, I hate to bother you, but may I sit with the three of you? I hate to be all by my lonesome."

Watching them scatter to get him a chair was hilarious, he nearly busted up laughing. The cute one with white hair beat them to it though, and Kohga nodded in appreciation. 

"Thank you. That was terribly sweet of you."

A little scratch to the chin nearly sent the guy to the floor. How cute. One of the men tried not to sound too giddy, but he failed.

"So! What's your name? And how come you're here by yourself?"

"Kiki. And I was supposed to meet someone for a date, but...well. That was hours ago. I wanted to walk back home, but it's so cold, and it's so far...I didn't want to be alone."

Course that riled them up. A beautiful woman, heart broken and lonely? Straight guys ate that bullshit up like pigs to slop. 

"What?! No way, someone stood you up?"

"What an idiot!"

"And rude! Giving such a pretty lady a hard time!"

"Would I deserve a hard time if I wasn't beautiful?"

He watched as the red headed guy stammered, worried he fucked up, before Kohga tossed his head back and laughed, lightly swatting his hand. 

"Oh come on, I'm just giving you a hard time!"

The three of them chuckled in relief, and Kohga couldn’t believe he was just. SO charming, form be dammed. He folded one leg over the other, and noticed their eyes followed. No one could REALLY resist gerudo legs.

"So what are YOU three doing here on your own? Waiting on your lady friends?"

They all went silent on that question, and he faked surprise. No shit they were single. Only whores wanted these losers, cute as they were (he was the whore, case there was any confusion there).

"Sa'oten! You three absolute adorable voes? All alone? Well. Least that means no one will be upset with me if I do this."

He scanned over his pick of the litter, and decided on the one with long, brown ish hair. He was a bit thin from being a dream boat, but he was honestly pretty damn cute. He held onto that sharp chin, and pulled him into a nice, long kiss. He kept it slow, smooth, really putting on a show for the other two. How greedy their eyes were. He peeled away from him, not even trying to hide his massive grin. They gawked at him, completely stunned that some gerudo woman was suddenly all over them. He fixed his smudged makeup, before folding his arms over his chest, right under his massive rack.

"Now, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm rather parched. Which of you boys wants to buy me a drink?"

You've never seen three men raise their hands up so quickly in all your life.

"No please, I do believe I've had enough!"

'Kiki' laughed, swatting away another offer for a drink. He made these three send so many rupees on him. Drinks, flowers, and lots, and lots of food. He couldn’t help it. The way they threw themselves at her at any opportunity just made him absolutely giddy. Though he was happy he cut himself off, less he be too tired for the REAL main course of the night. After some pretty eyes (and a mourning wallet), Kohga got them to pay for a room, just for the four of them. Course, Kiki was far too tipsy to walk there on her own, so they had to help her into the large, plush bed. In reality he just wanted to be carried, but hey, he deserved the special treatment.

"Oh...Sarqso. You three made my night much less lonely."

He could tell these guys were lost. They didn't know if she was inviting them to join, so Kiki had to make it rather obvious. He un did the strap to the bra, before peeling it away, and letting it fall to the floor. God, he really did give himself a pair of double D's, even he had to take a quick second to admire them. He pointed to the one who hadn't gotten any affection all night (a cute stable hand with messy, messy hair), and gestured him forward.

"Please. Allow me to return the favor."

He hesitated, clearly nervous, before Kiki took his hands, and placed them right at her chest. Granted Kohga wasn't much of a chest guy, but it seemed unfair to NOT let them play with them. And play with them he did. He cupped and massaged at her chest, all while Kiki raked her fingers through his hair. Such a cute boy. She turned her glance to the other two, and she sighed, as if full of woe.

"I don't think he'll let me reach over to take off the rest of these pesky clothes. Would one of you be a dear and-"

The white haired man jabbed the other in the gut, beating him to the bed. It made Kiki laugh, and she helped him by lifting her legs. Off came the skirt, and the pretty little panties. A nice patch of red hair highlighted that fair, dark skin. Kohga just couldn’t stop being fine. She no longer felt the need to bark orders, and let the boys do as they pleased. For now. One kept playing with her tits, occasionally suckling on them, one kept rubbing his tongue over hers, and the last fellow was copping a good feel for her legs. She chuckled as she parted the kiss, gliding her hand across his scalp, before getting a handful of that nice, red hair.

"Hmmm...you boys are excited. I like that, really I do. Now, pants down, let me see my new toys."

She had no problems playing with her breasts as motivation, occasionally pinching and flicking at her own nipples. She wanted to drool. A cock with an upward curve, one that was straight, and one that seemed to curve downward. Fun variety. She ended up with the upwards curvy one, and the white haired man had no qualms rubbing it in their faces. He loomed over her, rubbing his hard cock against her clit, making Kiki jump a bit. That was...sensitive. He looked at her confused, before she giggled.

"Sorry, guys usually hit it from the back, so this is a first. Don't do me gentle though, I'm a real tough cookie."

He nodded, pushing his tip inside those wet pussy lips. It was enough for her to arch her back, biting her bottom lip. Oh, he was going to get fucked SO good. He started to move slowly, letting her get used to him, before she motioned for the other two.

"Come on, I still have a mouth and a hand for you boys~"

The red head and his little friend rose to the opportunity. Hell, bed head made it more fun by riding her pretty face. Not just shoving his whole cock down her throat, not JUST shoving those balls in her face, but letting him toy with her huge, perfect titties. Kiki used her free hand to stroke the other cock in her hand, and she was in heaven. Her lips sucked and slurped at cock, smearing lipstick and drool all over it, her hand pumped that cock in her hand, and her pussy seemed to welcome the steady thrusts of a nice, full cock.

"Come on boys, be a bit MEAN to me here!"

Kiki complained, pulling her face away from the nice, throbbing cock for a moment. She was about to talk so much more shit, before the boys started to take the hint. One started to slap and yank at her breasts, one rubbed her clit in fast, aggressive circles, and one wrapped his hands around her throat, forcing her to gag and slobber all over that cock. She could feel drool dribble down her face, feel her pussy juices soak onto the sheets, and she even found her titties slick with little dribbles of her own milk. You'd think, as a gay man, this would be super gross.

You'd be wrong. Getting throat fucked, getting a new hole absolutely RAMMED, not to mention huge, slick breasts that seemed irresistible to a good suckling, Kohga was in absolute heaven. So much so that when the man above her pulled away, letting her breathe, she was moaning like a total whore.

"Oh you boys are BAD. Come on, fuck me. Cover me in all that hot cum, shove it right inside of me too. I want to taste how hungry you boys are for me, I wanna feel your hot cream inside of me. So pull up your FUCKING girdles, and FUCK ME."

Kiki was a VERY demanding woman. And despite the submissive posture, she was VERY much in charge. They kept as she commanded, harder, faster, swears under their breaths, the room filled with the yummy sound of horny, lust filled men. Then they came. Oh they came. Kiki felt a load shoved in her throat, felt ribbons of cum land on her tits and her stomach, and finally, finally, cum right into her pussy. Kohga held his legs nice and high for that, crying out in relief. Oh, so much thick, delicious cum from those nice, juicy cocks. They sat there, throwing their seed at her, before they seemed to pull away. Kiki finally found her breath, and she couldn't help but chuckle.

"Oh...you boys needed that. All this tasty cum, just for me."

Kiki pushed them off of her, before getting on her hands and knees, shaking her butt from side to side.

"Now. I want one under me, one in the back, and one in the front."

There was no movement, and she slammed her fist into the wall beside her.

"Dicks. Now."

In both arousal and fear, they gave her what she wanted. One snaked underneath her, pushing his cock into her already stuffed hole, while one pushed himself right into her ass. Now THAT was an all too familiar sensation. She chuckled, massaging the balls in front of her.

"Oh, and spank me. Lots of spanking. I want it to-ooh!"

Kiki didn't wait long before an open palm struck her bare ass. She giggled, shoving her face against the cock in front of her.

"Ooh you are a MEAN boy. Do it again, mark my ass-oh shit!!~"

One thing Kohga and Kiki had in common; they both LOVED a good, hard spanking. That, and the notion of LOTS more cum. And neither were scared to work for it.

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

Kiki looked back at the slumbering pile of men next to her. Five rounds each, she pulled a nice fifteen loads from these horny lil puppies. Not too bad for Kiki, but for Kohga? Bit on the weak side. Kiki was just as cruel though; making them kiss each other for her, making them lick and slurp at her cum soaked pussy- they did everything she wanted. She fixed herself up a bit, lapping any cum she had left on her face (no wasting food here), and tossing her useless panties on the pile of slumbering men. Just for something for them to fight over later, before walking out of the stable. Sooga was there, just how he commanded.

"There you are! I'm ready to go home!"

Sooga looked her up and down, questionably.

"May I ask...why?"

"Can't I just look pretty? Besides, I'm finally your height now!"

Kiki wrapped her arms around him, stuffing his face in her bust. He groaned, raising a hand in objection.

"I MUCH prefer Master Kohga’s chest, if you don't mind."

Kohga giggled, leaping into his arms and turning back to his usual, perfect self.

"You want Kohga’s chest, eh? Come on, let's go home. I'm in the mood to indulge you a little, Soogy~"

Kohga was FAR from done for tonight.

[hartigays]

3. “It’s always been you.”

3. “It’s always been you.”

billy storms out of the apartment, seething and fighting back tears. because billy hargrove does not cry. ever. he didn’t back when he lived with neil, he didn’t after his mom left, he didn’t when he got arrested for possession and almost lost his scholarship to UCLA.

he’s not about to start now.

not because steve pretty boy harrington has to go around acting like a grade-A asshole, with his soft hair and big eyes and pouty lips, screwing everything with a goddamn pulse. no sir. billy won’t give him that luxury.

the reality is, steve has always had a thing for plowing his way through as many people as humanly possible. or so billy heard all those years ago when he’d first arrived in hawkins and started inquiring about the pretty-faced indiana boy who billy just couldn’t seem to stay away from.

but billy thought all of that was behind them. they live together, for fuck’s sake. they’d moved out to california together so billy could go to school, and so steve could take a position at one of the offices of his father’s company in LA. steve hasn’t been seeing anyone, billy hasn’t been seeing anyone. they’ve been happy. content.

and okay, so maybe they aren’t dating. maybe billy hasn’t exactly told steve how he feels. but, like, steve should know. billy has gone out of his way to make it glaringly obvious. steve may be oblivious, but he’s not dumb. not like everyone thinks.

billy is pretty damn sure there’s no way steve isn’t aware of how he feels.

the worst part is, billy thought steve actually felt the same. at least, he had up until today, when he walked in on steve sitting on the couch with some girl, laughing and smiling and whatever the fuck else. he’d walked out before he could see anything more, despite steve’s desperate pleas for him to come back so they could talk.

there’s nothing to talk about. billy thought steve liked him, steve doesn’t. it’s done. he just needs some time to... process it, or whatever. billy finds himself on the beach soon enough, and he slips off his shoes so he can stick his toes in the sand, plopping down with a sigh.

it’s a private beach tucked a ways away from the pier, but billy knows the owners of this plot. they don’t stay at their beach house until the winter, when they want to escape to somewhere a little warmer during the colder months. he’s pretty sure the rest of their time is spent in aspen. so for now he’s safe to sit here and think, staring out at the water as the sun sinks below the horizon.

billy has brought steve here a lot. they’ve picnicked here several times, and billy even brought steve out a once or twice to teach him how to surf before they knew that steve was irreparably bad at it. the thought makes billy’s heart squeeze, and he has to pinch himself as a reminder to not be such a pussy.

because it’s whatever that steve is into some air-headed cheerleader type with a tiny waist and hair like strands of gold. it doesn’t bother billy one bit. not at all. he Does Not Care in the slightest.

maybe if he keeps telling himself that, it’ll somehow become true.

“thought i might find you out here.”

billy doesn’t turn around at the sound of steve’s voice, keeping his eyes forward even though his stomach sinks. “congratulations, you’ve finally managed to develop critical thinking skills. let’s bust out the champagne.”

“i can go if you want me to,” steve says softly, even though billy feels him sink down onto the sand next to him, close enough that their arms brush.

billy just snorts, shrugging. “i don’t give a shit what you do, harrington.”

steve just sighs, and for a long time he doesn’t speak. out of the corner of his eye, billy can see him staring out at the sunset, looking rather forelorn. billy wishes he could turn that look into something soft, something happy, but steve has made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t have that right.

“you know, i remember the first time you took me here,” steve says finally, and billy can’t help but glance over at him. steve’s smile is warm and soft, but tinged with something like sadness. “you tried to teach me how to surf. the first time, i mean. i slipped off the board and busted my ass so hard on it you had to carry me home.”

“you suck at surfing,” billy acknowledges, nodding. “badly.”

steve huffs a soft laugh. “yeah, i do. i just remember thinking that it was still one of the best days i’ve ever had. because that was the day i knew you loved me as much as i love you.”

billy goes completely still, his heart leaping up into his throat and his eyes watering, because what the fuck? where does steve get off making an admission like that just to make billy be less upset with him?

“don’t do that,” billy says, his voice rough. “you don’t get to do that. don’t pretend like you feel the same just because you don’t want me to be pissed at you.”

“billy,” steve starts, sounding distressed. he pauses, meeting billy’s eyes and fuck, they’re filled with tears too and billy doesn’t know how he feels about that. “it’s you. it’s always been you.”

the words break something inside of billy, and he crumples. he can’t pretend to be mad anymore when the truth is that he’s devastated. plain and simple.

“you sure have a funny way of showing it,” billy tells him, sniffling and wiping his nose on the back of his hand. “i saw you two. you were two seconds from playing couch twister. would’ve been if i hadn’t walked in when i did.”

“leanne is gay, billy,” steve groans, burying his face in his hands. “she works with me and she’s gay. has a nice girlfriend named annalise. they have a fucking kid. we were just- jesus, i can’t believe i even have to explain this. to you of all people. i’m the dumb one, remember? fuck. we were just going over some fucking spreadsheets. yeah, riveting stuff. super romantic.”

“i didn’t- are you fucking with me?” billy asks, because he’s starting to feel really fucking stupid and a small part of him is hoping he didn’t just throw a (rather humiliating) tantrum over nothing. “you guys were giggling. and sitting so close, i just... i thought you were making a move.”

“god, you can be more dense than me sometimes, you know that? we were giggling about you, dumbass. i told her that i liked you and she wanted to know more,” steve explains, shaking his head in disbelief. “it was just- i dunno. like two friends at a sleepover giggling about their crushes.”

“would you quit calling yourself an idiot?” billy huffs. primarily because he can’t think of anything else to say - his mind is racing too much. but also because it’s true. “this kinda proves that if anyone’s an idiot here, it’s me. i just- i don’t understand why you never said anything.”

steve is shoving his hands through the sand repeatedly, watching the sand run between his fingers. “you know i’m bi, i told you as much. i figured you were like me, or gay, or- i dunno. i just thought you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. i left the ball in your court, thinking that once you were ready, we’d, y’know. address the fucking elephant in the room.”

“the elephant being... ?” billy trails off. and he knows, but he really just wants to hear steve say it again.

steve rolls his eyes, laughing. “you know what i mean. but fine: the elephant being that i’m in love with you. and that i’m really, really hoping you love me, too.”

“i do,” billy says, his voice soft. “and i’m an idiot. i’m sorry.”

“you’re not an idiot. i probably would’ve thought the same thing if the roles were reversed and i walked in on something like that.” steve glances over at billy, giving him a tender smile. “just... next time, let’s talk to each other, yeah? i think that’ll save both of us a lot of grief.”

billy just hums, nodding his approval. they sit in comfortable silence for a little while, both still too nervous to make a move despite having just confessed their love to each other. at this point billy just finds it endearing, but he really, really wants to be closer to steve, and not just emotionally.

“i am gay, you know,” billy starts, his palms sweating, “and i really want to kiss you.”

“i know. and i think i’d like that.”

steve’s lips are soft and yielding beneath billy’s. his kisses feel exactly the way billy imagined they would - tender and sweet and a little shy, but curious. billy tries to keep it slow, not wanting to shove them into uncharted territory, but it’s only a matter of time before billy has steve’s back hitting the sand, hovering over him, their lips never breaking apart.

steve just sighs into the kiss, embracing the new position without complaint. he relaxes into the sand, one hand threading through billy’s curls, the other curling into the tufts of hair at the base of billy’s neck. it’s a kiss that billy never wants to end. but he knows there’ll be more. so much more.

“i’d say at least now we can get a cheaper apartment, but i think we’ll both still need our space every now and then,” steve says when billy pulls away, staring up a him with big eyes.

“yeah. plus it’s... ” billy trails off, his cheeks flushing bright red.

“it’s what?” steve asks, his brows coming together in confusion. “seriously, what were you going to say?”

“it’s home,” billy says gently, bracing both arms on either side of steve so he can swoop down to capture his lips again whenever he wants to. “home is wherever i’m with you, but- y’know. i like our place. it feels like us.”

“you’re such a fucking sap, oh my god,” steve laughs, but he’s smiling so brightly that billy thinks the whole beach could stay lit up for the rest of the night. “billy hargrove, secretly soft and mushy inside. who would’ve thought.”

“wasn’t, ‘til i met you,” billy tells him honestly.

and it’s true, for a long time billy hardened himself to the world, protecting himself with an armor of indifference until steve came along and melted him to his core. but billy isn’t one to complain, not when it means he gets to go to sleep and wake up to steve’s smile every day now, for the rest of his life. forever, maybe, if steve is up for that.

he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[onthepyre]

cookies

virgil and roman try to bake.  it doesn’t go well

warnings: swearing, there’s some light angst but like. not really.

word count 1.1k

romantic prinxiety

also i didn’t proofread.  good luck folks

Virgil grins, and Roman can’t help but think how cute he looks.  

There’s flour in his hair, making it a soft white.  It covers the front of his shirt, too, and dusts the sleeves of his jacket.  A mixture of butter and sugar is smeared across his cheek, and he smells of the vanilla extract that has spilled on the countertop.  

“How did we fuck it up this bad, Princey?”

He’s right — Virgil looks clean compared to the rest of the kitchen, and their chocolate chip cookies, still raw but sitting on baking sheets, are mostly a buttery liquid.  

“I’m not quite sure, my dear.  But this definitely is not correct.”  

Virgil leaps up onto the countertop, narrowly avoiding a pile of spilled brown sugar.  Roman walks over and stands between his knees, resting his arms on Virgil’s shoulders.  “No shit.  Go put them in the oven, I want to know what they taste like.”  

Roman complies.  “Do you think fifteen minutes is alright?”  Virgil shrugs, and Roman sets the timer for seventeen minutes — just to be safe.  He returns to his former place, and Virgil leans down to place a soft kiss on his lips.  He tastes solely of flour.  Roman grimaces, exaggerating a bit for the sake of hearing Virgil's laugh.  He gets what he wants, a soft chuckle as Virgil knocks his forehead against Roman's own.

"I'm that gross, huh?"  There's no malice behind Virgil's question, just a joking sort of sarcasm.

"Downright disgusting.  The flour you're coated in has absolutely nothing at all to do with it."  Roman kisses him again, this time ignoring the thin layer of ingredients that coats them both.  It takes a few moments — and Patton's footsteps nearing the kitchen — for them to separate.  Roman doesn't hear Patton approaching, or doesn't seem to care, and is forced backwards as Virgil slides off the counter and scrambles to put distance between them.

Patton appears at last, and stands almost awkwardly in the entrance to the nearly-destroyed room.

"Oh, are you two baking?  I'm so glad to see you getting along!  What's in the oven?"  He bounces over and turns on the oven light to glance inside.  His investigation reveals little, and it takes Virgil's hoarse response for him to figure it out.

"Cookies.  Chocolate chip.  They, uh, aren't looking too hot."  Virgil clears his throat, crosses his arms over his chest, glances over a Roman.  

"Well, of course they're hot!" Patton announces.  "They're in the oven!"  Roman laughs, and Virgil shakes his head.  "But I see what you mean.  They should be fine though!"

Roman nods hopefully, hazarding another glance at Virgil, who raises his eyebrows.

"Sure, buddy."  Virgil's doubt is obvious, but it does nothing to curb Patton's cheery demeanor.

"Well, you kids have fun.  And good luck with those cookies!"  Without another word, he bounds out of the kitchen.

Roman waits until he hears Patton running up the stairs to approach Virgil again.  He still has his arms crossed, though Roman isn't sure if it's defensive or comforting — Virgil has been known to use the gesture as both.  Roman gives a small smile, though Virgil is hesitant to return it.

He asks first about the thing he's most worried about.  "Are you alright?"

Virgil nods, almost tiredly, and sighs.  "Yeah.  Yeah, I'm just not really comfortable broadcasting my feelings to the world.  Or to Patton."  His gaze focuses on some invisible point to Roman's left.  Roman tries and fails to catch his eye, but deems it unimportant.  He grabs Virgil's hand.

"That's okay.  If this is how you're most comfortable, we'll keep it a secret.  Besides, that could be fun!  Just imagine, it's like a movie.  We're forbidden lovers, from opposing families with a decades old rivalry.  Gay Romeo and Juliet."

Virgil grins again.  "So, we're both going to die is what you're saying?"

Spurred on by Virgil's hand tightening in his own, Roman pulls him into a hug.  "You know what I meant," he says into Virgil's hair.  He gets a short laugh in response.

"Yeah, I suppose."  Roman can feel Virgil's breath as he speaks, warm and soft against his shoulder.  Roman cups his cheek, kisses him gently.  He gets only a second to admire Virgil's eyes and his light dusting of freckles before he presses his face into the crook of Roman's neck.

"Thank you," he says.  

"For what?"

"For being you, you big dummy. ��And for not being an ass.  I'm sure it took some effort."  Roman can feel Virgil smiling against his skin.

"Of course, my darling."  Roman's response is whispered, so quiet Virgil can barely hear, but his hands grip the back of Roman's shirt, and Roman knows he understood.  They don't move for a while, each trying to drink in the other's presence and store it away for future reminiscing.  

The oven beeps loudly and insistently, and Virgil again jumps away from Roman, this time searching for the elusive oven mitts.  As he looks, Roman opens the oven door to peer in at the cookies, which look nothing like they did when they were put in.  At last, Virgil returns with the mitts, shoving Roman out of the way so he can remove the cookies.  He stops to stare at them after he's placed the tray on the stovetop.

"Roman."

"Yes, dearest?"  Neither Virgil nor Roman takes their eyes off the cookies in front of them.

"What did we do?"

Roman, the braver of the two, attempts to lift one of the cookies from the pan, but it proves to be a challenge when he burns his hand.  There also is no clear separation between individual treats — the tray is a blackened mess of burnt dough and sizzling chocolate chips, all blending into each other.  

Virgil grabs a spatula.  He tries to slip it under the mass, but it stays firmly stuck to its pan.  He resorts to a knife as Roman holds back a laugh.  Finally, he chips off a piece, which he snaps in half.  He offers a part to Roman, who takes it, if reluctantly.  They bite into the cookie at the same time, maintaining eye contact, an unspoken challenge — who can eat more of their collaborative monstrosity.  Virgil wins when Roman spits the baked goods into the nearby trash can, mumbling about how he can't eat any more of this.

Virgil frowns as he chokes down the bite of charred cookie, and joins Roman at the garbage can to toss the rest of it.

"I think we should leave the baking to Logan," Virgil states.  "Specs probably enjoys the chemical reactions or whatever."

Roman laughs.  "Of everyone you'd expect to be good at this…"  

"We should probably clean this up, though."

Roman groans, and Virgil reaches up to press a small kiss to his cheek.  

"Maybe later?"  Virgil can feel Roman's lips brushing against his own as he speaks.

Virgil closes the gap between them.  "I suppose," he says against Roman's mouth.  He feels Roman smile.

@dissappropriation

[thetorturerwrites]

Use Your Words - A Sackler One-Shot

Summary:  Adam being mad about it didn’t change the fact that the man was recycling the same, stale lines to every girl he brought home. He might just need some help.

A/N:  18+ only.  PWP; dirty talk; public masturbation; male masturbation I’m a sucker for Adam Sackler.  Just a quick drabble.

Word Count: 3k

“What did you say to me?!”

Adam poked his head around the little green refrigerator, his deep voice booming down the hall to the bathroom where you were washing your hands.

“I SAID,” you yelled back, “Maybe you need a brush-up on your skills, dude.”

You chuckled to yourself at his cursing, knowing he was so wrapped up in debating this with you that he was burning the food.  Sauntering back into the kitchen, you leaned your generous hip into the fridge with a smug smile.

“No. You are wrong.” He threw a kitchen towel at you and pointed accusingly. “You’re just jealous; that’s it.  There is no way I’m bad at that.”

You snorted a laugh and nodded, throwing the towel back at him.  You lived right next door to Adam, having moved in a few months ago, and you two had become fast friends.  Him being an actor and you being a musician meant that you both kept odd hours, which made keeping ‘normal’ friends hard.

“Adam, I live right there,” you said, jabbing a finger at the wall connecting his apartment and yours. “I have been listening to what you call dirty talk for months now.”

He shook the spatula at you, cheeks flushing angry and pink, and you grinned wider, plowing right ahead with your commentary.

“Either you have hit the motherload of dirty sluts who just loooooove your cock, or you’re getting rusty, my friend.”

He turned to glare, those chocolate-brown eyes darkening and plump lips pulling into a scowl.  You smirked at him and shook your head; him being mad about it didn’t change the fact that the man was recycling the same, stale lines to every girl he brought home.

“Nobody has EVER complained,” he sassed, and you laughed again, holding your hands up in defeat.

“Alright, alright. Fair point.  Let’s just eat.”

“So…” he cleared his throat, shuffling his fork around the now empty plate, “...for argument’s sake, what would you say needs practice? Not that I agree, but..You know.”

Wiping the spaghetti sauce from your mouth, you huffed a laugh and took a drink of your wine, letting the red swirl across your tongue while you watched him. Adam wouldn’t even look at you, which was a rare feat.  He was all confidence and swagger, big and bombastic. Yet, here he was, embarrassed and shy.

“You really want me to answer that?”

He snorted and pushed up from the table, physically moving away from you to lean against the counter.  This really WAS getting to him, and you nearly couldn’t hide the laugh. Every inch of his tall, muscular body telegraphed that it was eating him alive to think someone wasn’t impressed by his sexual prowess.

“Ok, Adam, ok.”  

You set your wine glass down on the table and turned slightly in your chair to face him.  He was gripping the countertop tight enough that his knuckles turned white, and you almost pitied him. 

“Look, this is just my opinion, alright? You can chuck it out whatever window you like.  But for me, talk like that should be a give and take. You don’t talk dirty with someone; you talk at them.”

“But I don’t really care what they say,” he shrugged, visibly relaxing into this conversation. “I don’t always know what I’m saying; and as soon as I get off, I don’t remember it.”

“And that doesn’t bother you?”  You asked, arching a brow up high. “Don’t you want to remember if something you said made your partner hotter, hornier?”

His lips curled into something of a speculative frown, and you took the silent moment to just observe.  Adam was well-built and lean, jean clad and looking like that t-shirt was painted on. He clearly had sex appeal, and his charisma and playfulness netted him more than his fair share of attention. 

You could definitely picture a million lascivious ways you would enjoy this man in your bed.

Clearing your throat, you took another drink of wine and stood up to clear away your plate.  Following that train of thought was dangerous. You enjoyed Adam’s friendship and company. He wasn’t known to keep a gal around after sexy fun times, and you’d rather not ruin a good thing.

“I just think you’d enjoy it more,” you offered, setting your plate in the sink, “if you had a sexy conversation with someone rather than just bouncing your bullshit off of them blindly.”

Adam chewed the inside of his cheek in contemplation while you hunted for your shoes and bag.  You had an hour until set prep, and you needed to get your shit on the road.

“Show me,” he suddenly said, his tone soft, apprehensive.

You blinked at him, the shoe you were about to don halted in mid-air.  Canting your head, you narrowed your eyes at him slightly and chuffed a laugh.  The man really was incredulous. You finished stuffing your foot into the shoe and stood, checking your watch.

“Adam, I need to leave this building in 15 minutes. We’re going to have to continue this another time.”

“C’mon,” he pushed off the counter and stepped over, poking a pouting lip out, “please? Think of it as your way of ensuring the beautiful women of New York have better sex.”

He tugged your bag from your shoulder and herded you to the couch. He dropped down onto it, stretching his long body out flat with his head on the arm of the couch.  You sighed and looked down at him. He was far too good-looking for this to be a good idea.

“Besides,” he grinned up at you, “If you can’t do it in 15 minutes, maybe it's you that needs practice and not me.”

Your face flat-lined and you sneered at him and the cheap shot.  Muttering under your breath, you sunk down to your knees behind the arm of the couch, turned his head away from you so that he couldn’t watch you do this, and took a breath.

“I should warn you,” he tipped his head to look at you upside down, “If you turn me on, I’m gonna handle business. Deal?”

***

“Hey, kid.”

Adam tugged at your elbow, dipping in quick to kiss your cheek. You didn’t even bother hiding your surprise, eyebrows shot up high.  You automatically lifted onto your toes to receive his kiss and held onto his arm.

“Adam Sackler,” your voice betrayed how entertained you were by the sight of him here.  “Will wonders never cease? What are you doing here?”

“What? I’ve been to your shows before.”

You laughed and patted his shoulder, nodding.  You took a sip of whiskey and tried to ignore the way he was looking you over.  You knew tonight’s outfit was a winner, and you smiled up at him as if you didn’t know you looked sexy as all sin.

The shirt he’d tugged upon was white, flowing, and your dark blue skinny jeans clung just right and plunged down into your absolute favorite pair of come-fuck-me boots.  You’d also had just enough whiskey for your eyes to shine in that pretty way you knew slayed hearts.

“Adam!” You laughed. “Ok, yes, you’ve come to see me play before, but this is a gay bar. The likelihood you’re going to find someone here to take home is pretty fucking low.”

“How long ‘til your set,” he asked, ignoring your comment, tugging your hand into his, and pulling you away from the bar.

“Mmm,” you screwed one eye shut and looked at your watch, dodging people as he dragged you behind him, “half hour? Give or take. Why?”

Adam held a door open for you, pushing you beneath his stretched arm and across the threshold.  Finding the light switch, he flooded the little bathroom with orange-yellow light and shoved the trashcan in front of the door.

Shucking his navy pea coat, he was on you in a second, grasping at the backs of your thighs and lifting you into his arms. You yelped and clung to his neck, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing to hold on.

“You left me high and dry earlier” he grunted against your shoulder and dropped you onto the tiled sink counter.  “That dirty fucking mouth of yours is all I can think about.”

He tugged you nearer to the edge and crowded in between your knees.  Both of his large, thick hands splayed across your jean-clad ass, and he buried his face into your neck, his mouth settling right into the curve.

“Sounds like a personal problem, my friend.”

You chuckled against him and shoved at his chest until he was dug out from your neck.  You pushed a knee up in between your bodies and held him away. He was stupidly sexy, flushing a gorgeous shade of aroused with eyes burning hungry and dark.  

With a smirk, he pushed against your hands, knowing full well he could overpower you with little effort. Hooking his hand under your knee, he slowly pulled your legs back open, holding your stare, and reclaimed the space.

“So what,” you said, leaning back so he couldn’t get at your throat again, “This gonna be part of our friendship now? It's a dangerous road, dude.”

“Yes. Maybe. Shut up.”

He bent over you, slid his solid arms up the length of your back and sat you back up and into the column of his chest. He was nuzzling your jaw, mouthing at the patch of skin right between jaw and ear, and you swallowed a satisfied sigh.

Pretending that you’d never thought about exactly this was pointless.  This sexy beast of a man was here, hands all over you and lips finding that spot just below your ear that you loved.  It was a risk, but fuck it.

“I thought the point of you coming here,” your voice dropped low, the rest of you agreeing to be in this moment with him, “was for me to not shut up.”

Adam groaned into your shoulder at the sexier tone and pushed his hands under your shirt, palming your back and shoulders. You matched that melodic tone when he sucked at your pulse.  He was a mountain of a man, and he all but curved around you, invading your senses.

Sliding your hands up his brawny shoulders, you glanced just beyond him and further into the dimly-lit bathroom.  Eyes lit up with mischief, you tugged his arms from around your body and pushed at him until he was standing upright, glowering.

He watched you, eager, as you scooted to the very, very edge of the counter and popped the button on his jeans. Grasping his hips, you turned him around and grinned like a devil when he cursed.

“Y’fucking kidding me?”

You chuckled, scooting him between your thighs just where you wanted.  Adam was between you and the floor-length mirror opposite the counter he’d sat you on.  Being a goddamn giant, though, all he could see of you was your legs and boots.

“You’re not fucking me tonight, kiddo,” the dramatic sigh he let loose made you laugh aloud.  “Didn’t say I wasn’t gonna help you, baby. Lean here, scoot down a little.”

Adam leaned back against the counter, and you hugged him with your knees.  On a sexy growl, he figured out the game and shifted his legs further from the counter so that you could wrap your arms around his shoulders and dip your face into his neck.

“Better?”  You nipped at his earlobe, and he leaned his head back against your shoulder.

“Getting there,” he licked his lips and squeezed your calves.

Reaching down, you slowly drew up his blue t-shirt until it was bunched beneath his arms, bearing the lower portion of his mouth-watering pecs and the full expanse of his stomach and abs.

“Are you telling me,” you nudged his jaw with your nose, chasing it with a kitten lick, “that you’re so needy that you tracked me into this tiny bar bathroom so I would talk dirty to you?”

His breath hitched, and he nodded wordlessly.  His hands fumbled at his pants, ripping open the zipper and wiggling the jeans down his hips a bit. You hooked his right arm with your leg and held it.

“Uh-uh,” you chastised, “This only works if you use your words.”

“Fucking hell,” he muttered and nodded, “Yeah, I came here for your dirty mouth. I’ll cum in it if you’ll let me.”

You smirked and lifted your leg, sliding it up around his chest and hugging his hard body tight.  Adam huffed a breath and reached into his pants and briefs to untuck his hardening cock, moaning low as he wrapped thick fingers around it.

“Is that the cock that all the girls love?” You threaded your fingers into his hair, scratched at his scalp, and tugged his head back, baring his pulse. You blew warm breath across it and delighted as it kicked up a bit faster.

“Uh-huh,” he swallowed, throat working deliciously, “You wanna taste?”

Adam’s left hand cinched tight around your calf, fiddling with the buckles on your boot, and his right hand was wrapped around and stroking his thick length. You watched him in the mirror, purring at the lewd reflection.

“I can’t, baby,” you nipped at his earlobe, voice low and steady. “You don’t want my bright red lip prints on your dick, now do you?”

Adam groaned so loud you were certain they heard it outside, and you hid a smile against his neck. His hand was tugging faster now, only pausing to rub the glistening drops of arousal into the skin.

“Jesus fuck, yes please.”

“Next time, yeah?” 

You licked at his hammering pulse and pushed his head up off of your shoulder.  One arm slithered over his shoulder to fist the hem of his shirt up to the neck, holding it tight; and the other slid beneath his free arm to scratch and squeeze at the tense pectoral.

“You look so fucking good, Adam.” You breathed it into his ear, and he whined.  “Been thinking about you like this all day.”

Adam’s dark brow furrowed, and he turned it into your jaw. He was fisting his cock tight, his pace quick and determined. The swollen, flushing head was steadily leaking lending a vulgar shuck, shuck, shuck to his strokes.

“Yeah?” He practically whimpered, and you squirmed against his back. “Been thinking about this cock all day?”

“Mmhmm,” you grinned against his earlobe, “How fucking pretty you look fucking your fist for me.”

His moans and growls were obscene, and it was so good. The slap of skin against skin echoed, mingling with your heated purrs.  Adam’s hips jerked, and he screwed his eyes shut.

“You wanna know what a greedy slut looks like, Adam?”  Your voice was husky as you scratched red tracks into his chest.

“F-f-fuck y-yesss,” he opened his glittering dark eyes and looked right at the mirror.  He sucked in a hard breath, but he didn’t look away.

He was fucking beautiful, and you moaned into his ear.  His hard chest heaved, flushing red. His forehead was dotted with sweat, and his dark hair was damp at the temples. His forearm, biceps, and back were flexed terribly tight as he fucked himself for you.

“Gotta hurry, baby,” you nudged his jaw.  “Almost show time. You ready for the big finish?”

“Yes, yes, shit yes” he huffed it out, face red and lips wobbling. He was just on the edge and straining, his fist impossibly tight and strangling his needy cock painfully.

“Ok, here we go.  Don’t let go now. Keep fucking that beautiful cock for me.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning into his neck and looking at him in the mirror. “Tomorrow, if you remember just two of the things I said to you, I will take off all my clothes in the landing, and I will crawl up all three flights of stairs.”

He moaned loud, eyes fluttering at the idea of it.  His lips fell apart, and his breath caught entirely. His hips started thrusting up into his fist, but you held his face, making him watch.

“Two things, that’s all you have to remember. And I will bend over your kitchen table, and I will let you fuck me until I can’t remember my name. Don’t you want that, Adam? Doesn’t that sound good?”

“YesgoddamnyesFUCK!”

He came on a shout, pushing his booted feet further apart and punching his hips upwards.  He leaned far back into you, and you clung to his shoulders and pressed satisfied kisses into his neck.

On a drawn-out moan, he squeezed and milked his cock, pooling all of the cum onto the crook of his hand. Breathless, he wrapped both of your legs around his torso and lifted the hand to you in offering.

“Here,” he huffed, smirking, “For your effort.”

“Get away from me!”

Laughing, you shoved him and his hand away, checking your watch. Turning over your shoulder to look in the mirror, you checked your face and hair, making sure you didn’t look too mussed and trussed, while Adam pushed to his feet and stepped away.  Wiping little swirls of red lipstick from your chin, you hummed and hopped down from the counter.

“Hey wait.”

He grabbed at your arm when you moved past him, spinning you around and pushing you back into the counter. Surprisingly fast, he had your pants unbuttoned and his massive hand between your thighs.  You choked on a gasp and shot up onto your toes as his fingers slid into your slippery cunt with ease.

“Just checking,” he grinned, pumping his fingers into you until you were flushed and breathless.

Slapping at his shoulder, you chuffed a laugh and wiggled until he slid his hand back out of your pants. He dipped his head down to kiss at the very side of your neck, a satisfied sound bubbling up against your skin.  

A few minutes later, you left the bathroom together with five minutes to spare.

[matchasprouts]

Listen Closer - Chapter 1

[ hi again besties i am so so gay ]

First || Next || Previous || Last

Garrett jolted awake in a stiff chair, immediately noticing two things: one, he was strapped to the chair with metal cuffs by his ankles and wrist and two, there was a big, heavy, metal collar around his neck.

He instantly started struggling, yanking his arms up and trying to pull them out with the full force of his body.

A voice made him stop.

“Hello Garrett. I want to play a game,” a TV had clicked on in front of him, revealing a large puppet with black hair, white skin, red eyes, and red spirals on his cheeks, “for years, you have written about the deaths of those around you. You alternate between slow deaths and ones you describe as reminiscent of a feral dog attack.”

That was true. Garrett had a lot of issues stemming from trauma, and it had made him violent. Writing was the best way for him to get it out without actually hurting anyone.

“Despite all that you write, you never do anything. You spend your life writing about the deaths of people you don’t like, allowing their transgressions to consume your life. Well, finally getting that release is what will save you today.”

Oh my god. Was he about to get to kill someone?

“Beside you is your former step-father. He is alive, but not fully aware of his surroundings because of the drug I gave him- however, this will not last forever, meaning you have a limited amount of time to do what is asked of you. Inside of his throat and one of his lungs are two keys. The keys to your collar. I have provided you with a knife strapped on the underside of your chair.”

Holy shit. He was being forced to kill his abuser in order to live. This was the best day of his fucking life.

“If you fail to kill him and retrieve both keys within one minute, the collar around your neck will activate, sending just enough of an electric shock through your body to paralyze you. The amperage will slowly rise, killing every cell in your body as slow as possible. You can either turn to the feral killings you love so much, or succumb to one of the slow deaths you write the most. Live or die, Garrett. Make your choice.”

The cuffs clicked open. Without hesitation, Garret leaned down for the knife, immediately lunging for the man that had ruined his life at such a young age. Matthew was beginning to stir, but he didn’t care. He’d spent years getting stronger, faster. He could take him.

“Shhh,” he shushed the man, pressing his index finger against his lips as a wide smile spread across his face. “I promise it’ll be over soon.” It wouldn’t. Garrett plunged the knife into Matthew’s chest and dragged down, ripping him over.

The scream was music to his ears. He kept going, ripping open his lung with his hand. It took a second of searching before he found the key, jamming it into one of the keyholes on his collar.

Now for the one in his throat. Matthew wasn’t dead yet, but it wouldn’t be much longer, so Garrett wasted no time in tossing the knife to the side and diving in, ripping into Matthew’s throat with his teeth.

He never even got the chance to scream, very much dead by the time Garrett ripped out a piece of his throat, spitting it out and leaning back in to keep going.

It only took a few more bites before his teeth hit the key. He scrambled to grab it and shove it in the other keyhole, suddenly wanting nothing more than to live. He wanted to live, to become something more than the life he’d been living since he was five. He turned the keys.

And the collar popped open.

He yanked it off, throwing it across the room, far away from himself.

After realizing what just happened, he let out a loud, hoarse scream. It wasn’t long before it became a near maniacal laugh, running his hands over the blood on his face. He never realized he loved the taste of blood, or maybe it was just the satisfaction of killing the man he loathed.

He head snapped to the side when heard the door open, and he lunged for the knife, scrambling to his feet so he could start fighting a lot easier. There was nothing for a second, before the puppet from the TV squeaked into the room on a shitty little tricycle.

Garrett lowered the knife.

“Congratulations. You survived. I hope you have learned how to appreciate your life, instead of living it focused on the people around you,” the puppet spoke, in the same voice as before.

Garrett tilted his head at it, before slowly making his way over to it. “I want to join you,” he said, loud enough for the security camera in the room to hear him. “I want… I want to stay better. I want to make sure that this- this clarity lasts. Please.”

There was silence, before he heard the sound of footsteps. The first thing he saw was the cloak, and then the rest of the man. He was taller than him, but only by a few inches. He removed the hood of the cloak, revealing a….

Old ass man. Jigsaw was a fucking grandpa. That’s fine, Garrett didn’t care as long as he could keep him busy.

“I believe you’re the first to approach me first with a desire to become an apprentice,” the man said to him, curious about what would drive him to this. “But a beggar cannot be a chooser. You’re resourceful, and you know your way around a machine. You can be useful.”

Of course he could. He wouldn’t have offered if he wasn’t useful. Jigsaw offered a hand for him to shake, and he grabbed it without a second thought.

---

That was months ago, and now he was doing some tweaks on his favourite trap of John’s yet- the Venus Flytrap. It was basically an iron maiden built specifically for the face, and he thought it was beautiful.

“Alright, try the timer again,” he said as he set the contraption on a mannequin head to test it on. They’d been having trouble with it going off when it was supposed to, so he’d taken it upon himself to fix it.

Amanda, the only other apprentice he knew off, started the timer on the trap, only setting it for a few seconds. When it went off, the Flytrap closed immediately, crushing the head inside.

Garrett let out a whoop, jumping up with an excited clap of his hands. “Let’s fuckin’ go!” He went for a high-five with Amanda, letting out a laugh when she followed through with it.

It was hard learning how to work with someone else, but Garrett considered Amanda a friend at this point. She was kind and driven, and supportive as hell. There was no concern that she would betray them, so he confided in her.

It had only been a few months, but he considered John and Amanda his new family, and he was glad for it.

God knows he needed it.

[acescreations]

Roleplay Transcript (pt. 1)

So this is an old roleplay I got permission from my RP partner to post to my writing blog. I guess revisiting this is kind of a birthday gift to myself and also an apology gift to all of you guys for not writing for shit.

Warnings: Fighting, swearing, violence, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, homophobia, panic attacks

Ship(s): Platonic Analogical

Word Count: 12,553

When Logan went to school on his first day of junior year, he was filled with a strange sense of pride. Students shot glances at him, seemingly worried that Logan would for some reason pick a fight with them, which he would only really do if they were being a jerk and deserved it. Teachers read his name off the attendance list with a hopeless tone upon realizing they had Logan, before looking up with a disappointed resignation when they saw Logan's patch of electric blue hair. Logan had built up a reputation of being strong, of being tough. Just about every kid in school knew about him, whether they be the bullies he fought, the kids he was defending from the bullies, or just the people who saw the fights he was in.

Virgil’s first day at Mindset High was pretty scary. He didnt make friends easily, and he felt like everyone was judging him. He wore a soft lavender hoodie and royal purple sweat pants. Everyone seemed scared of this guy called Logan. I mean, he seemed so grumpy.. He sighed, sitting next to Logan.

Logan blinked in surprise as he watched another student sit down next to him. Most people tried to avoid him as much as possible, so he usually sat alone during class. Even when there were only enough desks for each student in the classroom, people usually pulled their desk a distance away after even the slightest glance from Logan. He guessed this kid sitting next to him hadn't heard of his reputation yet. Well, unfortunately for him, the two were in Logan's least favorite class: history. The class that Logan now associated with whitewashed nationalist propaganda, and arguing with the teacher.

Virgil decided that he would at least get to know this strange man that everyone seemed so.. reluctant to like？ “Uh, hello, I’m.. well, if..  I’m Virgil.” He said tamely, he hoped that they could.. maybe talk？A friend would be nice.

Logan looked over at Virgil with an even, if not cold, expression. That wasn't a name he recognized, so this was probably a new student, which explained why they were actually talking to him. "Logan," he said shortly. They'd learn soon enough that Logan was someone you didn't want to be associated with if you want to have even just a neutral social standing.

Virgil nodded nervously. The dude seemed to be angry at him？Did he provoke him？Should he move seats？ He sighed as he looked down at his work.

Logan put his feet up on the table in front of him, pulling out his phone as he waited for the teacher to, as he put it, "begin his attempt at brainwashing a class of impressionable teenagers."

“Today we shall learn about the history of people that.. well.. people who.. the homosexuals.. and.. others.” Virgil was completely stunned, before immediately grtting dissapointed. “Well fuck me gently with a chainsaw.” He mumbled.

"Oh hell no," Logan said out loud. Literally everyone in the room probably already guessed about Logan not being straight, so he didn't have anything to lose from being vocal about his distaste over the lesson. "Oh, FUCK no." Underneath his iwn complaining, however, he heard Virgil's much more quiet complaint. Okay, so this guy is actually pretty chill. That's good to know. By "chill" Logan meant "not a smallminded conservative" but those pretty much meant the same thing to him.

Virgil sighed. “This.. is fine.” He said. He was a closeted gay boy, he didnt need this. “Now, this shall be respectful..” The teacher rolled her eyes. “Now, what do we know about.. you know.. those people.”

Logan heard what Virgil said, but to him, this most certainly was not fine. He had already picked his battles, and he picked all of them. "If it's gonna be respectful then why don't you just say the word 'Gay'?" he yelled at the teacher.

The class went dead silent. Virgil sighed softly. If someone found out he was gay, he would die on the inside. “Well, as you all know, the bible said that homosexuals.. will rot in hell.”

"FALSEHOOD!" Logan screamed, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. "Respectful my ass! And how is this even history?!" Logan would go on, but if he's learned anything from the debate team, it's to let people keep saying stupid shit for Logan to prove wrong.

“Homosexuality is a diease. Now, now more recent years, we have homosexuality shoved down our throats. This is causing more parents to force their children to be gay. This all started because a black trans-” “Please stop talking..” Virgil groaned, tempted to just bash his head into the table.

"Gayness is NOT a disease," Logan said, smacking his hand on the table as he began talking over the teacher. "It's a human characteristic just like height or eye color. Gayness is NOT being 'shoved down our throats,'" he smacked the table again, "people are just getting introduced to labels they didn't originally have. Parents are NOT forcing their children to be gay-" smack "- most are actually beating and throwing their children out of their homes for being gay. But you know what? You just keep talking. Maybe one of these days you'll actually say something intelligent."

“You come from a biased pretense！You only see the side of the homosexuals, thats why you are one of the-” “OH, FOR FUCKS SAKE, CHANGE THE GOD DAMN SUBJECT YOU-” “Damn pastel！Didnt know you could speak.” A guy called out.

Logan immediately turned and shot a glare at the person who insulted Virgil, forgetting the current feud with the teacher for a moment. "If you're going to waste oxygen like that, at least keep it relevant to the conversation." Logan then turned back to the teacher. "You're the fucking biased one, you homophobe!" he shouted, pointing a finger at the teacher as he leaned nearly halfway across the table to yell at him.

“I am not a homophobe！I like.. the lesbians.” The teacher smirked, as Virgil began to laugh. Hes just,, this teacher, how did you get a job？ ”Fine. We will move onto a differ-”

For once in his life, Logan is so stunned by by what he's hearing reaches a loss for words. "How did you even get your teaching degree, you fucking creep?"

“I try to act respectful, and you insult me？I think people like you just stir up drama to draw attention to yourself.” Virgil had stopped laughing. He felt.. guilty. He shouldnt have laughed. Maybe the teacher was right？

Logan went completely silent, his hands curling into fists. "Don't. You. Ever. Generalize me. Like that." Then, to make sure he didn't try to physically fight his teacher, he walked out the door, slamming it behind him.

Virgil watched Logan leave, watched everyone whispering about how freaky Logan was. How gay he was.. Virgil stayed quiet and refused to speak to anyone.

Logan stormed down the hallway, absolutely fuming. He ended up in the school's gym, knowing there wasn't a gym class that period. He let out a shout of frustration as he punched a wall, which hurt, obviously, but it satisfied him and let out some of his anger. After that he just stood there, fist against the wall, breathing heavily.

Virgils scheduele was lost, so he asked around for his next class. They led him to the schools gym, and left him there, lost and confused. Time to make an unlikely friend.

Logan had since moved to sit on the bleachers, glancing up to glare as Virgil entered the gym. He was currently in a mindset that nobody would be friendly towards him, especially right now.

Virgil felt the glare, but sighed. He did promise Patton to make one friend at this god forsaken hell hole. He slowly walks up to Logan. “Uhrm, hi？”

"What do you want?" Logan growled. He recognized that this was the person who was sitting beside him in history, but he still felt like he'd antagonize Logan anyway. Most people did anyway.

He gave Logan a weak smile. “A..Are you okay？” He tilted his head. ”And where is the rest of our class？” He expected at least one othed person to come in. Poor thing.

"I'm fine," Logan snapped defensively, in a counter-productive attempt at convincing Virgil that that was actually true. "And there isn't a class in here right now." Logan didn't have a gym class at all. He was actually skipping a class right now, but it wasn't like his teacher would miss him anyway.

“Oh..” He stammered, looked down at the floor guiltily. “Do you know where S7 is？” He rubbed the back of his neck. “And.. wait. Why arent you in class.. oh.”

Logan sighed as he stood up. "Yeah, come on." He gestured for Virgil to follow him with a small shrug of a shoulder.

Virgil smiled. “Thank you, Logan.” He said softly, following behind him, glad that Logan would do this for him.

Logan shrugged as he began leading Virgil to his classroom. "Whatever," he muttered. Whatever it took to get himself his alone time in the gym. He doubted it would do Virgil's social reputation much good to see him with Logan, though.

“To be honest, that ass of a teacher really should be fired. What kind of creep just likes lesbians？” He tried to make small talk.

"Basically the entire American public does, actually." Logan was pretty sure it was a rhetorical question, but it wasn't like he was wrong, he thought.

“oh.. well.. thats..” Virgil sighed. “Why were you there alone instead of hanging out with friends？” He seemed rather done.

Logan glanced back at Virgil, although he didn't stop walking. "Because there are classes going on right now," Logan said. It was true, although Logan wasn't hanging out with friends because he didn't have any. He just wasn't going to tell Virgil that.

“Dont you have a badass like, gang？Like everyone says？” He tilted his head, very confused. “Oh.. are you.. uh..” He was genuinely confused.

"A gang?" Logan said in mild surprise and disbelief. That was seriously what people said about him? Logan guessed he underestimated his own reputation.

“Yeah. Also, apparently you dont like when people steal your role, so you are going to beat my ass. If you are, then I guess do it here.” He has no fear for death anymore. This school sucked any hope of caring out of him.

"What exactly do people say my role is then?" Logan hadn't intended on carrying on a conversation for this long, or really at all, but he couldn't help but be curious as to what people said about him.

He stared up at the sky, he really didnt want to say this. Dear god, please strike him with lighting. Oh, no lighting？F- “You’re the bad boy that all the girls swoon over. Apparently you’re soft and sweet on the inside.” He scoffed slightly. His defense is up.

Logan stiffened as he continued walking, gagging a little. That was it. It was official. Logan hated his reputation. He supposed he'd have to work harder on establishing his reputation as being stone cold and heartless. He wasn't going to stop picking fights with bigots though, he knew that much. "Well, here's your class," he said to Virgil, stopping in front of a classroom before immediately turning go back to the gym instead of the class he had that period.

“Thanks Logan.” He gave him a weak grin. “Logan Man, Fighting off bigots day after day.” He scoffed, before it turned to a light giggle, and Virgil went into class. What a dork. A nice dork.

Logan glanced back as he walked off, turning back after Virgil walked into class. As he neared the gym again, he glanced down at his left knuckles. After punching the wall, they became red and sore, and Logan was starting to regret punching the wall. His hand still stung.

This is why you dont start a war on walls, you idiot. Virgils class exprience was.. intresting. They made up rumors about him and Logan, and Virgil wanted to vomit. Love always made him feel weird and uncomfortable, but hes absolutely sure hes just gay.

Logan sat back down in the gym bleachers. He didn't know what he was doing back here instead of going to class. He guessed he pretty much didn't want to hear whatever his classmates would say about him. That was actually the first time he stormed out in the middle of class like that, and he assumed that was what people would be talking about right now.

They began to gossip about Logan having a girlfriend, boyfriend, and then him being in a gang. Now they all think Logans a fucking gang leader. Good luck talking to anyone, Logie.

After sitting in the gym with nothing to do for a while, Logan stood back up and headed to the band room. That was where he usually went when he wanted alone time, the gym had just been closer that time. As he walked down, he realized that being a musician probably contributed to people thinking he's "soft and sweet on the inside" but fuck it. Music is probably the reason he doesn't throw hands with every mildly unpleasant person in his vicinity.

Virgil cant stop laughing at the pure idiocity, wanting to just record this and send it to Logan... Eh, later. Once he befriends Logan. He nods to himself as the bell rung. Now he could go find Logan！And hang out with him！

Logan had just reached the band room by the time the bell rang. "God dammit," he said loudly. Now he'd have to choose between letting out some energy and missing another class. Logan sat down behind the drumset in the room, pulling out his phone and earbuds. He figured his teacher wouldn't miss him, and really, who cares if the teacher calls his house? Who gives a shit? Certainly not him. So he put on a pair of fingerless gloves he kept with him, turned on his music, and played along to American Idiot.

Virgil was going to class, but heard... music？He quietly walks towards the sounds, peering in. They had a music room？！ Logan plays music？！ He quietly attempted to sneak in, to be able to hear better. He ended up tripping into a guitar, miraculously not breaking it.

Most people would've heard Virgil tripping as he snuck in, but not only was Logan listening to really loud music, but he was also playing a really loud instrument. But really, neither of those things meant much, because Logan was in The Zone. It would take a lot to break his focus.

Virgil was extremely impressed. Logan really was in the mood. He sat on the floor, just admiring the music.

Logan looked up once the song had ended, quickly pulling out his earbuds and jolting upwards once he saw Virgil sitting there. "What the hell are you doing here?"

“...Uhhhhh, I thought this was the cafeteria？Nice pl-playing.” He quickly stood up, immediately smackin into a cupboard and just sighing softly.

"Of course this isn't the fucking cafeteria, do you see any tabl-" Logan went quiet for a moment when he saw the knocked over guitar. He practically threw himself over the drumset as he ran to check on the guitar, because despite the fact that the school technically owned all of the instruments, that was Logan's Guitar. "The fuck did you do?!" Logan shouted as he checked the guitar over for any damage.

He quickly stood up. “See-ing a-as this isnt the cafeteria, I-I’m going to-” He began to speed for thr door.

Logan looked back up once he was sure his guitar was alright. Once he saw Virgil heading for the door, it occurred to him what he had just done. "I, I didn't mean to snap," he said apologetically, rubbing the back of his head as he looked away from Virgil. This new body language was a complete change from how he usually acts.

Virgil paused, reluctantly rubbing the back of his neck. “U-Uh, oh, ok-okay. I’m.. I’m sorry. You.. You clearly werent..” All words just seemed to die in his mouth.

Logan sighed as he stood back up. "Whatever, just, try not to knock any instruments over, okay?" Logan mumbled as he began walking past Virgil out the door. Okay, so he didn't mumble, but compared to how clearly he normally speaks he might as well have been.

"Thank you, L-Logan." He stammered. He didnt move, just awkwardly standing there. "O-Oh, uh, of course.. Uh, can I sit with you at lunch?" He managed through jumbled stammering.

Logan glanced back at Virgil as he walked out, trying to understand the logic of wanting to be around somebody who just yelled at you for something that wasn't intentional. Logan was hoping it wasn't anything like Logan being nice, because if Logan was the nicest person Virgil knew, well that's just sad. "Sure, whatever." Logan shrugged. He didn't actually know if he was actually going to stay until lunch, since he had been planning on leaving for the rest of the day. He shrugged at himself as he left the band room. Logan supposed he'd find out by lunch.

Virgil just followed after him, quietly. Hey, Logans the nicest guy here at this hell hole of a school, Well, the nicest guy he has met. He looks around, feeling awkward. Oh god. Why is he bothering Logan. He doesnt want you here. Just leave. "Uh-"

Logan attempted to continue walking as normal, despite the ever present awareness of Virgil following him. After all, by the looks of this kid, he's definitely harmless. Although after a while it became hard to ignore the little lost puppy of Virgil. "What are you following me for?" Logan asked over his shoulder. "Don't you have a class or something?" Honestly, how is anyone supposed to let out some steam when someone is following them everywhere?

Virgil flinched. "uh.. yeah.. sure.." He mumbled, and he quickly left. He didnt know why he cared so much. Oh wait, yes he did. Because he wanted Logan's friend. Why? Because he found Logan cool.

Logan sighed once Virgil left. He didn't really know why. Was he disappointed? Logan actually thought he might be. That was probably the longest anyone had ever voluntarily been around him, after all. Either way, Logan still had no idea what to do at this point, especially considering that if he left before school ended he'd definitely have to deal with the consequences soon enough.

Virgil headed off into the bathroom. He just needed somewhere to stay calm, and clear his head. Everything just made him feel horrible. He quietly locked himself into a stall, keeping himself quiet.

Logan leaned against a wall in the hallway, getting out his phone as he debated his options. If he left school now, Virgil wouldn't have to worry about his mistake of wanting to be around him during lunch, but his mom would be pissed if she found out he didn't even stay half of the day. But if he stayed and went to class, he'd half a lot of pent up anger with him during class, and his home had probably already been called due to him not having made it to this class period, so he'd still probably hear about it anyway.

Virgil calmed himself down, and went back outside. He looked around, wondering if Logan was still around. He.. He hoped so. He is not going to that hell hole alone.

Logan sighed as he put his phone away, finally heading to class. He was pretty sure that it was the world's most stupid desicion for Virgil to want to be anywhere near him, but as a new kid who clearly had no idea how to survive in this school, he probably wouldn't be very safe if he was alone during lunch.

Virgil quietly sighed, deciding to go to class. He hid his eyes with his hair. He slunk into the back of the class, trying to keep away from everyone.

Logan managed to keep himself from throwing hands for the rest of his morning class, heading down to the lunchroom afterwards. He stood against a wall and watched people enter without personally eating.

Once that hellish excuse for a class was done, Virgil quietly found Logan and walked up to him. “Uh, hi.”

Logan looked over at Virgil, honestly kind of surprised that he committed to his decision to spend the lunch period with Logan. "Hey," he said briefly, looking back across the room.

He gave him a pathetic grin, trying to not be awkward, but the boy radiates awkward. “Uh, uhm, er, hi.” He began to play with his hands, biting his lip.

"You don't talk to people much, do you?" Logam didn't look back at Virgil as he spoke. Was he hoping Virgil would decide Logan actually was unpleasant to be around and leave? Yeah, Logan thought he was.

“N-Not really.” He mumbled, not moving, copying Logans pose. He wasnt exactly enjoying the people staring at him, but hes happy having a friend.

Logan's surprise grew as Virgil started copying him. He didn't know why, but that was really unexpected. "Aren't you going to eat or something?" Logan was determined to not let his surprise, or really any other emotion, show.

Virgil shook his head, deciding a verbal response wasnt worth it. Plus, the food looked like slop. He fidgetted with his hands, trying to spark a conversation.

Logan glanced over at Virgil, trying to figure out what to do in this situation. God, this kid is making me more awkward just by being around me. It's a wonder he's survived this long.

Virgil thought about his family. His family sucked. It would be nice to know what raised that hardcore lad. “Uh... Whats your family like？” He said softly. God fUcking damn it, Virgil. You cant ask about anything N O RM A L-

The change in Logan's posture was immediate. His back straightened, his shoulders became more squared, his hands tightened into fists. "Why do you care?" Logan's voice was cold and hard as knives.

Virgil shrunk back, his eyes wide. “I-I dont know？I’m just trying to make conversations..” He trailed off, going silent. Wait. Why was Logan caring so much. “Oh god, are you an orp-”

Logan scoffed at that second comment, giving Virgil the slightest shake of his head and somehow managing to make those small actions violent and angry. I wish I was that lucky.

Virgil flinched. He felt his heart race at those angry movements. “Uh, er.. sorry.” Virgil practically sped off, he feels sick.

Logan turned and watched him go. If he were in any other mood, he'd probably feel bad for scaring Virgil like that. But right now he didn't even care, he simply turned back to glare at the rest of the people in the room.

The whispers of the room continued, questioning Logan and why he doesnt like his family

Logan didn't say anything to anyone, although when he heard someone talking about him he'd shoot a glare at them to get them to shut up.

The cafeteria was awkward and quiet. Nobody wanted to talk to Logan, or get beaten up.

Eventually Logan got tired of the stares and went back to the gym. He would've went to the band room, but there was a class there at the time, so he had to go with the next best thing.

Virgil was sitting behind the bleachers, desperately trying to calm himself. Logan hates him. Everyone hates him. He hates this hell-hole of a school.

Logan didn't notice Virgil as he came in, walking over to a padded part of the wall so he could punch it and not hurt himself again. He punched the wall, then drew his hand back and punched again, and again, and again. He hated his mother. He hated every single boyfriend she had ever had. He hated this school. He hated that he was always alone. He hated that this one time somebody actually wanted to be around him, he was determined to scare them off. He hated everything right now.

The punches just terrified Virgil even more. Oh great. Now a murderer was after him. He let out a strangled gasp, as his world began to spin round, making Virgil shake.

Logan paused when he heard the gasp behind him. He turned and finally noticed Virgil behind him, and of course it was only after he started panicking. Logan stood there, trying to figure out if he should go try to help, considering he was probably the thing causing Virgil to panic and being closer might just make it worse.

He couldnt breathe. The gasps became more frequent. Fuck. Hes gonna die here. Hes gonna die alone. Jesus this is getting sad.

Soon enough, Logan decided on walking over, kneeling down in front of Virgil. It wasn't like he was getting any better without Logan interacting. "Hey, Virgil?" Logan started in the most even voice he could produce. "I'm gonna need you to calm down, can you do that? Just focus on breathing." Fuck, is this what you're supposed to do? Logan honestly didn't have a clue, but from what he did know about panic attacks this seemed like an appropriate response.

Virgil trembles, before his blood stopped. Logan. “I-I’m sorry！I’m sorry！I-I-I-I...” He hears that Logans hear to help. “I-I cant- I-I’m a failure！”

Upon hearing Virgil's words, Logan's hands curled into fists. He was immediately ready to fight on behalf of someone he didn't even know. Then Logan reminded himself that right now, fighting was not in fact going to help. He took a deep breath, forcing his hands to relax again before continuing to talk to Virgil. "No, you're not a failure, there's no need to be sorry." Logan slowly reached out and took one of Virgil's hands in his own, checking for his reaction.

Virgil jolted, scramming away, apologizing. “I said- I said sorry！P-Please.. Leave me alone.” He sobbed. “I-I-I-” He felt his throat constrict.

Logan quickly pulled his hands away from Virgil, feeling guilt like a stab in his gut. This was all because of him, wasn't it? Maybe he should just leave, Virgil did tell Logan to leave him alone, didn't he? And Logan was pretty sure he just made it worse because he had no idea how to help, so Virgil would probably be better off if Logan left him alone.

Virgil whimpers, god hes so pathetic. Such a useless person. “Pathetic.. Useless..” He mumbled softly, looking away from Logan. The attack was beginning to die down, but he wouldnt be calm for a while.

Logan opened his mouth, about to correct Virgil on what he was saying about himself, but then he hesitated, and soon closed his mouth again. Logan looked down at the floor as he slowly stood back up and left, his endgoal being the doors leading out of the school. Logan officially decided he was done with being around people for a good while. Logan easily ignored the stares of the people in the halls. Most people took one look at Logan's overall demeanor and knew not to stare, so Logan was able to get out the school doors without even being interuppted.

Virgil made sure to keep close to Logan. He felt so guilty, he can’t believe he was so stupid. He had to have Logan come help him from a panic attack！All he is, is a panicky, clingy, failure.

Logan sighed and turned around as he got outside the door, facing Virgil. "Don't you have something better to do? Like class or something?" Logan was trying not to snap, especially since Virgil had just gotten out of a panic attack, but his voice was still harsh. Logan just wanted an escape from people, and now this little lost puppy of a person was becoming the first and only obstacle to that.

He kept his mouth shut. He felt so awkward. Like he owed Logan and apology. For seeing that. For seeing how much of a mess he was.. Yeah, he left soon after Logan spoke.

Logan walked away from the school after that, although he didn't really know where he was going. All he really knew at the time was that he wanted to escape from people, despite the fact that he didn't know where he could go that didn't have people. Logan ended up going over to the park, deciding that the park would have the least amount of people. After a while Logan had calmed down enough to tolerate human connection again, and walked down to the local café, because despite its black color, the fabric of Logan's jacket did little to protect him from the cold. He almost smiled as he walked through the door of the café, looking at the pride flag sticker on the window. Logan sat down in a booth, although since he was a regular the staff weren't expecting him to order anything.

Virgil was nervous. He had gotten lost on his way home, and was walking down to a cafe. He was hungry, after all. He looked at his phone, cringing at its dead battery. But he managed to smile. Today started off great, at least. Logan was.. his friend？Well, he seemed to begin to tolerate Virgil. And hes fine with that. He ordered a cup with a long list of ingredients. His own list of “Fuck me up” ingredients.

Logan didn't notice Virgil walking in. He had started dozing off in his seat when a waiter walked over, giving him a plate of eggs and toast. "It's on the house. You look like you could use it," they said with a smile as they left the table. They were right about that; Logan hadn't eaten all day. Logan glanced back over, guilt weighing down his shoulders as he began eating. He glanced over at his phone as he ate. The only reason it wasn't dead was because he was at the table with the outlet. That was basically His Table and both the visitors and staff knew this. Once Logan finished eating, he put his head atop his hand and began dozing off again. The poor kid hadn't slept well in ages.

The waitress did NOT look happy that Virgil had such a long list, but, he paid and ordered it, so she had to. When he asked for an outlet seat, he was pointed into Satan- I mean, Logans direction. “Oh, hi Logan.” Virgil said softly, holding his head phone.

Logan was partially asleep at the time, although he had trained himself to not fall asleep entirely, so when he heard his name he was immediately awake and alert. He put his arm down on the table as he looked at Virgil. "Hey," he said shortly, realizing that this was the kid from school, which meant school was over. Logan hadn't really been paying attention.

“Uh, Uhmm...” He felt really awakward.. Was there any other outlet booths？Logan looked like he would murder Virgil if he sat there.

Logan raised an eyebrow at Virgil, drumming his fingers against the table. Honestly, if there was anywhere that he was least likely to murder someone, it was that café. It was quite honestly the most comfortable place he had ever been in, and he wasn't about to throw that away by getting into a fight.

Virgil looked away. They say, if you look Logan in the eye, you’ll turn into stone. “Sorry. I’ll just take the bus.” Yes. The bus. That he has no.clue about. Tbh, If I were Virgil？I’d rather walk.

Logan stared at Virgil. What the hell was he talking about? "We don't have a bus." Did Virgil just move here? Also why was he talking about a bus inside a café? What the hell was his train of thought?

Transfer student. Yes, he did just move here. Thats.. Thats kinda why he wasnt as fearful of Logan. ”Oh.” He said simply. “Fu-”

Logan sighed in confusion as he looked away from Virgil, bringing up his hand again to set his head on and closing his eyes. He didn't have any sort of obligation to interact with Virgil, so if he wasn't going to actually say anything then Logan was going to try to stock up on light sleep.

“ck.” He sighed. He awkwardly shuffled into the booth, just wanting to charge his phone, man.

Logan opened his eyes again, having expected Virgil to just stand awkwardly or leave. He glanced at the coffee Virgil had as he sat down, reading the ingredient label. "That's incredibly unhealthy for you." Logan didn't know why he was starting conversation when he could be sleeping, but he was aware of how much Virgil's coffee could fuck someone up.

“Eh. Nobody really cares.” He took a sip, waiting for his phone to do him a favour and charge. One percent, and the most aggressive spam of messages blasts through his phone. “Oh. I’m popular today.” He muttered. Of course, his parents had guests today. They had to pretend they cared.

Logan watched the phone screen as the messages showed up on the screen. Honestly he was pretty surprised by the spam, he barely ever got any messages, and he definitely didn't remember the last time his mom texted him. She generally saved her barrage of harassment for when they were face-to-face. He genuinely didn't think whatever the messages were about could be good.

They werent. They were degrading messages about his intelligence. “Ah！My mom.. uh, says that.. I gotta go.. God, shes so kind.” He made a convincing act. “See you, Punk.” He gave him a pathethically weak smile. He had no way home. Sadness hours.

Logan didn't believe the act for a second. Everything he read on that screen were things he could practically hear his mother saying to him, and "kind" wasn't even the last word he'd use to describe her. Nonetheless, he understood the need to get home. Logan sighed at the smile. Honestly it was kind of sad. "You don't know where you're going, do you?" Logan asked, deadpan. Seeing how lost Virgil was in school, the entire town probably seemed like an actual maze to him.

Virgil flinched at the deadpan tone. “Ah, well, uhrm, yeah..” He muttered, allowing his bangs to cover his eyes. “I’ll find my way home, I dont need a gang member to escort me.” He muttered, a bit of a bitter tone in his voice. He doesnt know why he said that. Maybe to drive Logan away？But he adored Logan！Logan was so cool.. God damn, you stalker, stop thinking about him！ “...sorry.” He muttered, getting up.

Logan sighed and looked away. Gang member. Is that really how people saw him? He only meant to scare off jerks and bigots, and he honestly wanted to be supportive of basically anyone who got picked on or bullied. Apparently those people couldn't trust him either. He knew he couldn't be surprised though, nobody in their right mind would trust somebody who got so angry they had to punch a wall to feel just a little better. "Whatever," Logan muttered. "I just hope you know that everyone's gonna assume you're queer now." Logan jabbed a finger towards the pride flag sticker he had looked at on the way in.

The look of sheer terror as he saw the said flag was hilarious. He had tried his best to act like a straight guy. “I’m straight.” He mumbled. “Uhm, are you gay, Logan？”

Logan almost laughed at what was to him an obvious lie. Almost. "I think I'm as straight as you are." Straight as a rainbow, that is.

Virgil looked afraid. But then again, when hes with Logan... Wait. Beforehand, Virgil wasnt scared or worried. Aww！You turned someone who, rather blindly, trusted you, against you！But isnt that what you do best, Logan？

[365days365movies]

February 22, 2021: Pillow Talk (1959)(Part 1)

Y’know, I actually do like Doris Day.

She’s funny, she’s talented, and she’s a timeless beauty that I remember very well. TOO well. You guys ever have that one thing that your parents crammed down your throat SO MUCH that you got sick of it? Well, that’s what my Mom did with The Thrill of it All.

Which is, for the record, a cute movie, and one worth watching again at some point. But I’m gonna ease my way into that with Doris Day and Rock Hudson’s first movie, 1959′s Pillow Talk. 

However, while I’m not stranger to Doris Day, I’m afraid that I don’t know too much about Rock Hudson from experience. Well, there is one interesting tidbit about him: Hudson was one of the biggest stars of the ‘50s and ‘60s, and his career continued up until his death in 1985...from AIDS-related complications.

Yeah, Rock Hudson was one of the biggest gay celebrities in Hollywood, although he never publicly came out. However, it was somewhat of an open secret in the community at large, and basically all of his female co-stars know about it. 

And said secret was revealed posthumously, after his tragic death during the height of the AIDS crisis. He was by far one of the most high-profile deaths during this time period, and you’d think that would’ve caused more waves about the AIDS-crisis, considering that he was good friends with...well...another actor.

Yeaaaaaaaaah, not gonna get into Reagan and ALL OF THAT SHIT here. This here is a movie blog, not a political blog! But, uh, yeah, a LOT of fucked-up shit about Reagan and the AIDS crisis, obviously, and part of it was Rock Hudson. So, yeah, it’s something that I wanted to address before we got into this whole shindig.

Because, again, I’ve never seen a Rock Hudson movie, but dude was a pretty huge deal, and this was a part of his life that I felt it unfair not to at least acknowledge. SO, with that out of the way, let’s have a little Pillow Talk. SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

We start with that might be one of my favorite opening sequences so far this month, which you can see above. From there, Jan Morrow (Doris Day) wakes up, humming the theme song from the credits, which is clever, considering that she sang it! Talented lady, seriously.

Jan wakes up and goes to the phone, intending to make a call. However, this is where we get a pretty stark cultural difference, and a needed history lesson for some of us, me included. See, Jan’s phone line is actually a party line, seen through this neat little visual edit.

See, this is what’s called a “party line”. From the 1870s onwards, there was a shortage of available phone lines. By the time you get to the ‘60s, more and more people had personal phones in their households, but without enough lines to go around. And so, some people were forced to share their phone lines with others, hence the party line system!

Here’s the thing, though: if somebody was on the line already, anyone else on that line could hear the conversation of other people. Which is exactly what’s pissing of Jan right now, as she needs to make a call, but the line is being used by her party line partner, songwriter Brad Allen, who’s serenading his girlfriend (?) Eileen (Valerie Allen). Not sure that they’re actually dating, but Eileen definitely wants to.

After Jan’s insistence, they get off the phone, and Jan’s able to begin her busy morning at last. Well...almost. Brad’s now talking to Yvette (Jacqueline Beer), and she wants him to sing HER song to her, which is LITERALLY just the Eileen song with a different name and in French! Which is...hilarious. It’s very funny, not gonna lie.

Once again, Jan tells him to get off the party line, and hangs up angrily. She leaves just as her cleaner woman, Alma (Thelma Ritter) arrives, fresh off of a hangover. Jan goes to try and get a line of her own, and the manager, Mr. Conrad (Hayden Rorke) makes a WEIRDLY sexist comment about jumping to the top of the list if she were pregnant. Which, yeah...weird.

Anyway, Jan, in her frustration, tells Mr. Conrad that she’s hired of sharing the line by a “sex maniac.” Mr. Conrad asks for specifics, and is AGAIN WEIRDLY SEXIST ABOUT IT. He asks if his dalliances with other women disturb her in particular. But yeah, he also says that if he is indeed a “sex maniac,” they may need to disconnect him altogether. Which has...uncomfortable undertones all on its own, but whatever, moving on.

On her way to work, Jan’s friend Jonathan Forbes (Tony Randall) shows up to bring her a STRAIGHT-UP CAR, holy shit! He’s doing so to thank her for decorating his offices (she’s an interior decorator, he’s a car dealership owner, so...fair exchange?). She insists that it’s too personal, which confuses him, as it isn’t perfume or lingerie.

But, uh, dude? IT’S A WHOLE-ASS CAR!!! Look, I’m with her on this one, don’t just give me a fuckin’ car out of the blue! I don’t care what the reason is, tell me that shit first! And Jonathan is CLEARLY trying to make it just a little more personal, if you get my meaning.

Jan finally arrives at her office, owned by Mr. Pierot (Marcel Dalio), and she tells him that an inspector has been sent to look after Mr. Allen. This inspector is Miss Dickenson (Karen Norris), and being of the wimmins, is immediately entranced by the apparently irresistible Mr. Allen, sabotaging any attempt at inspection.

The next morning, the inspector’s report comes through, and Miss Dickinson has of course cleared him of all charges. He calls her, and the two clash in a way that definitely means they’ll never, ever, ever fall in love, no sir, not these two, not a CHANCE IN HELL

They agree to make a schedule for using the phone, and Brad accuses Jan of being jealous of his free-wheeling, bed-hopping lifestyle, which she takes great offese to. But after they hang up, she thinks on the idea of having bedroom problems. Looks like Jonathan wants to fix that, on account of being the THIRSTIEST MAN ALIVE.

Dude has three three ex-wives, all of which were revolts against his mother, for which he’s seeing a psychiatrist.

...CHRIST, the man’s a walking-talking red flag. Jan also says that she doesn’t love him, like...AT THE FUCK ALL, and the man just straight-up says, “How do you know, we’ve never even kissed.” Ai which point, any normal person would see the phantom neckbeard and whip out the fuckin’ bear mace, but Jan just lets him lean in for the goddamn kiss!!!

Jan...standards, Jan. My God. Anyway, she still turns him down, he asks her to get married again, and she leaves. For God’s sakes, man. Anyway, she goes home, where Alma’s listening to Brad serenade a girl over the party line. Jan notes the time, and tells him to get off the line. He calls back, and tells her off.

Brad gets a visitor: his old college friend FUCKIN’ JONATHAN AGAIN. He bemoans being a millionaire (po’ babyyyyy), then reveals that he’s pining over Jan, whom he doesn’t know is the person on the party line with Brad. He hears a good amount of information about Jan from Jonathan.

After the conversation, Brad tries to somewhat reconcile with Jan, but she doesn’t have any interest in doing so. That night, the two have separate affairs. Brad meets up with a woman named Marie, and  serenades her with the same goddamn song from earlier, that suave motherfucker. Dude flips a switch, and the door fuckin’ LOCKS! Jesus, state-of-the-art hook-up tech of 1959.

Meanwhile Jan is attending a dinner held by an extremely client, Mrs. Walters (Lee Patrick). Needing to get home, she has her son Tony (Nick Adams) give her a ride. But on the way home, they stop and WHAT THE FUCK TONY??? I actually can’t find a clip or GIF of this, so I’ll tell you...he is ALL THE FUCK OVER HER, and it’s GROSS. CAN WE PLEASE STOP SEMI-RAPING DORIS DAY? WHAT THE FUCK, IN NO WAY IS WHAT I JUST WATCHED OK, HOLY SHIT!!!!!

Like...wow, that was the most uncomfortable I’ve felt watching a movie in a WHILE. And it’s not even because of the act itself, it’s because of how...OK it feels in the context of the film. Jan is BARELY upset by this slimy little weasely-faced rapey CREEP LITERALLY ASSAULTING HER IN THE FUCKING CAR. And in case you were wondering, yes! This film was written by FOUR MEN.

This is gross. Sorry, but this whole sequence is gross, and it gets even LONGER, because she AGREES TO GO GET A DRINK WITH HIM. WHY, JAN? STOP ENCOURAGING THIS BEHAVIOR. He tries to get her drunk (but ends up drunk himself), but she tries to leave. However, who should be sitting one table but Brad, who realizes who this is. Jan tries to leave, but Tony tries to get her to dance with him, AND SHE ONCE AGAIN AGREES, JAAAAAAAAN!!!!!!!

And its during this time of distress for Brad that, OF COURSE, he finds himself extremely attracted to her. And since he knows who she is, but she doesn’t know him, he decides to fake his identity. And there we go, we’ve got a creepy-ass one-sided relationship set-up.

Meanwhile, lightweight Tony passes out on the floor, drunk as shit. Brad goes into help, putting on a take Texas accent and calling himself Rex Stetson. And OF FUCKING COURSE, she’s lost in his fuckin’ eyes. Damn those eyes, and his suave bullshit.

They shove Tony into a cab, then take his car, which appears to be too small for Brad, which makes sense, given the fact that Hudson was 6′4″, goddamn! The two take a cab, and the two reveal their mutual attraction to the audience, through their inner thoughts. Looks like all Jan needed for a relationship was handsome-ass Rock Hudson.

In her thoughts, she thinks on how honest and down-to-earth Rex Stetson seems, unlike “monsters” like Tony and Brad Allen. And OF COURSE this is how we get this started. OF GODDAMN COURSE this is how we start this relationship. Liar revealed, LIAR REVEALED, I FUCKIN’ HATE THAT GODDAMN TROPE SO MUCH

Soon after “Rex” takes her home, he goes home herself, and gives her a call, inviting her to dinner the following night. She accepts. Then, in the middle of the call, Brad pretends to pick up the line as himself, in order to set up the two identities as being separate...this is reverse You’ve Got Mail, isn’t it?

Think about it. Two people that hate each other, and they’ve never seen one another, but also love each other after meeting in person. IT’S THE OPPOSITE OF YOU’VE GOT MAIL. Ugh. Fine. Even down to the fact that he has a sizeable advantage over her, due to his full knowledge of the situation. He even tries to use his identity as Brad Allen to set-up their date the next night for success.

And it works, goddamn. A clever yet manipulative asshole, this dude is. They get on a horse and carriage, and we hear the inner thoughts of Jan, Brad, and the dude who owns the horse. And, yeah...it’s funny. The two go to dinner, where Jonathan shortly arrives. Brad gets him out of there with...mildly fatphobic means, but it is the 1950s, so things were just kinda...entirely that.

But in any case, Brad gets away with it, and he and Jan spend a hell of a lot of time together going all around the city. And the whole time, he’s playing the role of “Rex.” Ugh. This is a good halfway point, so let’s go to Part 2 here! See you there!

[kitkatopinions]

They should make blacksun canon anyway. The bees don't deserve it, queerbaiting or otherwise. It sets a bad precedent for others to follow. Also I've been stung too many times too give a shit about the toxic fandom's accusations or hurt feelings. OR make blacksun sink and have it be the worst case scenario, really rub it in our faces and poor salt on our wounds. I'd rather go for these options than settle for a half assed lukewarm outcome that stinks of non commitment and cowardice. Bring it on!

Look, I get your bitterness on this subject, but this isn’t something I can agree with. I too have been really frustrated with the more toxic bumblby shippers, and I’ve seen a lot of bad and biphobic comments. I’ve been rattled by so many comments saying that people shouldn’t ship Blake with a man, that she’d be less gay if she started dating a man, claiming Blake clearly never liked men, and people calling her a canon lesbian... That kind of thing can be incredibly frustrating and disheartening to hear as a bi woman. But I think there are a couple of important things to remember here.

1. The toxic bumblby shippers like this really do seem to do a very loud and aggressive small (by fandom standards) group, and there are a lot of perfectly fine, welcoming, nice people who ship bb and who have never harassed anyone. I don’t spend a lot of time in the main tags, but I haven’t really seen any hate recently, and a lot of people think the in-fighting is stupid and even call out blogs that are being hateful. A lot of people watch RWBY, and only some of them use Tumblr, and only some of those Tumblr people make it hard and harass people. It doesn’t make your feelings of frustration less valid and it doesn’t make the way people treated you okay, but I just think it’s important to remember that there are more people who would be hurt if CRWBY pulled the rug out from under them like that than just the jerks who think it’s okay to attack others over cartoon ships.

2. This isn’t just about a ship and if they’d be frustrated by a couple they like not being canon, this is about the queer community and the fact that they’ve been capitalized on for monetary gain over and over again while being given crumbs, only to realize they were just getting strung along. I’m a part of the queer community, and it sucks. It’s not just Bumblby here, it’s about CRWBY having promised the queer community much needed representation. To pull the rug out from under not only toxic bb shippers, but literally the whole of the LGBTQ+ community watching the show for the sake of making a point would be just awful, and it’d make other people feel like they can get away with it too. Maybe CRWBY did just give into fandom demands when they started to make bb canon, but to walk back on it now would be total bull, and I wouldn’t stand for it. How I feel about the ship (I don’t like it) and the toxic fans (I wish they’d shut up) pales in comparison to how I’d feel if I found out yet another show tried to string me and other queer people along for eight seasons only to dump us after they thought they’d gotten enough money. That’s the current bad precedent that RWBY has already followed too much (not giving bb the same kind of confirmation of romantic intent in eight years that they gave all their starting opposite sex relationships in the first two seasons.) That would enable the bad precedent to continue further, and other people would follow.

3. There are toxic people for every ship in RWBY. You see more toxic blacksun shippers then let’s say, Monochrome, because BlackSun has more content and therefore appealed to more people. But Bumblby is the biggest ship in the show and the numbers of fics written for them on ao3 is a huge number. There are more toxic bumblby shippers probably by pure volume, and they shouldn’t get to ruin it for everyone else. But if we were stopping all ships that had a number of toxic and mean fans, I hate to say it, but blacksun would have to be canned too. I’ve seen the ‘people only ship bb because they’re gay women’ posts. I’ve seen the ‘It’s like they’re shoving gay people down my throat’ posts. I’ve seen the ‘they’re pretending Blake likes women all of a sudden but she liked men so which is true’ posts.

Look, I don’t ship bumblby and I sure hate the way it’s been executed. But the bottom line is I’ll take a ship I don’t like over giving the whole LGBTQ+ community the middle finger. I get why you’re mad at the bumblby community, but this is just how I feel about it.