#fruity things that broadcasters say

[catcherappreciator]

“Henry has been flirting with Bo all afternoon”

[absurdthirst]

Kinktober 2023: October 9th

Day 9: Slutwear, Squirting/Cumshots, Prostitution/Camming/Sex-for-Service

Agent Whiskey x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Camming, technically sex work, voyeurism, sex toys, breast play, masturbation, dom/sub undertones, slight obsession

|| Kinktober List || MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The camera light blinks on, making you take a deep breath and adjust the lacy mask that completely conceals the upper half of your face. Last week, it had been a pretty rhinestone cat mask, but you had wanted something gothically sexy for the first day you are camming in October. 

“Hello.” You lick your lips, tasting the fruity lip gloss that you had thought would look good on the camera feed for your customers. The chat bar, where the users that are in your Cam ‘room’ can send you messages or just talk amongst themselves. There’s only one username here tonight and you see that he had paid for a private session. 

Whiskey. You had heard his voice a few times and imagined a cowboy from the top of his Stetson to the bottom of his boots. “Whiskey.” 

****

Jack groans in anticipation as the feed connects, catching the first sight of Kinkygirl4U. 

It had been a whim, a lonely, spur of the moment thing but since that first visit to the cam room, he’s been hooked. Eager to see you move, talk, fuck yourself. Touch yourself. 

No one at Statesman knows about this, they can’t know about it. It’s his dirty little secret, staying home when he could prowl the bars. Watching a computer screen when he could be sliding into bed with whatever woman he had charmed. 

The fact was, he was bored of that. It had lost its appeal. He was so tired of chasing women that he was going to forget their faces before he slipped out their front door. The endless flirting and one night stands. He knew he wasn’t going to commit, he couldn’t. 

Stumbling upon your page had happened by accident. Searching porn one night when the invite for a cam room popped up. It had been intriguing enough to click on and he had been pushed into your room just as soon as he had entered his credit card information. 

You had been perfect. A mix of innocent and vixen that had his cock throbbing as you touched yourself and interacted with the other people that were watching. Watching along with them as you made yourself cum, talked about your sexual experience and laid yourself literally bare in front of him. 

It had been the beginning for him. Every chance he had, he had logged on to watch you. Memorizing your broadcast times so he could make sure that he was in front of a computer. He had even locked his office door and watched you a few times when he was working at Statesman in New York. 

Jack turns on the mic and chuckles quietly. “Hello, Kinkygirl.” He purrs. “You sure look pretty in that mask.” There’s nothing else that you are wearing tonight, so he can’t complement your pretty lingerie, but your tits look mouthwatering. 

You giggle for him, something that is most likely practiced, but it sounds real and he can indulge in the fantasy that you are actually preening for him. 

“Whiskey, you naughty boy. You bought out the show tonight.” You playfully chastise him, but there is a grin on your face and your hand slides up to cup your tits and push them towards the camera. “Didn’t want to share, hum?” 

“Sure didn’t, sugar.” He grunts, drinking in the sight of you greedily and reaching for the overly large belt buckle that has a flask on it. Needing to free his already hard cock. “Want you all to myself. That’s alright, ain’t it?” 

You hum playfully, tilting your head up in thought even as you brush your thumbs over those perky nipples of yours. You know that Whiskey likes your breasts, he always wants you to touch them or pinch your nipples. Apparently a tit man behind his screen. “Of course it is, baby.” You decide, letting out a soft moan when your nipples are achingly hard and the pressure of your thumb turns slightly painful against it. 

Jack groans, loving how your back arches and your eyes flutter behind the mask. Just once, he would want to see all of your face. Even resisting the urge to have you found using Statesman resources. This is just for him, you think that he’s just some normal man and he likes it. 

“Good.” He grunts, flicking the button of his jeans open and sighing in relief. He can see, but there’s a certain sense of anonymity that he enjoys. You know a username, a code name of a code name in life’s little irony. “Why don’t you show me how wet you are, sugar? I’ve been thinkin’ about you all day.” He coos.

Smirking when you immediately lean back and start to spread your legs, willing to give him anything that he wants. It’s a rush for him, telling you to perform and you do it so prettily. Groaning when he sees how wet your folds are as you angle the camera down to let him get an up close view. 

“That’s a fucking pretty cunt.” He praises, pulling his cock out of his jeans and reaching for the lotion. He’s pretty much having to keep a bottle close by when he’s got you on his screen. Broadcasted to him in vivid color and 4K resolution. “So sexy, sugar. You love touching your little clit, don’t cha?”

He hisses when he wraps his hand around his dick, the lotion much cooler than your cunt would be. Watching as you breathlessly pant and start to touch yourself. He will watch whatever you want to do, eager to just devour you and he coos praises as he strokes himself. 

“Pretend you’re with a lover, sugar. Show me how you would ride a dick.” You have a toy, a dildo that you suction to the mirror that you have laying on your bed. Letting him see how it looks as you ride it through the reflection and he has been wanting to see it again since the first time he had seen it. 

You obey without even questioning it, making him twitch in his hand when he watches the thick pink silicone of the toy disappear inside you, watching your lips stretch around it and wondering if it feels as good as the real thing for you. “Oh fuck, sugar, that feel good?” He asks. “Bet it feels so good inside that little cunt. Nice and tight. That toy thick enough or do you like it thicker?” 

He’s pretty fucking girthy so he’s imagining how you would whine as you slowly sink down on his cock. Coming through the screen and straddling him in his chair. 

“It’s so good.” Your breathy moans are turned all the way up so he can hear every hitch in your voice. Never being turned on like then when someone is moaning in his ear. 

“That’s it, sugar. Ride it for Whiskey.” He moans out, eyes fixed on the screen where you are literally giving him his own private porno. Like those peep-show booths, but this is even better. It’s obviously in your room, where you live and relax when you aren’t filming. 

You are magnificent as you pleasure yourself in front of the camera, for him. Whimpering out his username as you start to bounce on the toy. He wonders what you are imagining. Are you imagining some version of him? Are you thinking about what you are going to do after, what errands you have to run? He’s so used to wearing his own mask when he is on a mission that he’s apparently more comfortable with you than with a person in the flesh. His little cam girl. 

Jack moans, cumming from the sight of your tits bouncing and the pressure of his cock. Covering his shirt and pants with his release as you start to cum yourself. Slowly working himself through his pleasure as you cry and shake over the toy before you stop moving. Pulling off of the toy and panting as you move closer to the camera. “How was that, Whiskey?” You ask breathlessly. 

Your face is sweaty and your eyes filled with passion or pleasure, that part he hasn’t quite figured out yet, but he will. Next time. “Perfect, sugar.” Jack murmurs through the internet connection that links you together. “Just perfect.” 

[slippinmickeys]

Proof of Life 4/?

1. “Dana, I cannot tell you how glad I am to hear your voice,” Ethan says. The connection is not great, a truncated hiss on the line, but he sounds truly relieved. “Honey, I missed you so much.”

She is not sure how to respond. She is thrilled of course, to no longer be a hostage. To have unlimited food, water, and Jesus Christ, a hot shower. But even in the midst of the gunfire, of her producer dying in front of her, her thoughts didn’t once turn to Ethan. She thought of her mother, her nephews. If he’s waiting to hear that she’s missed him too, she’s not sure she can bring herself to say it.

“Dana? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” she says.

“I’m sure you’re tired and…” his words trail off. Traumatized, is probably what he’s thinking. And he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” she says. She is tired. But it’s an emotional exhaustion.

“Honey. I’ve talked with Bill. We’re still going to get you home. The network is going to help cover the cost.” She feels a small amount of guilt for putting a kink in Bill’s plans. The military will no longer be transporting her home, not after her insistence on being brought to the mainland and onto the closest US base. His superiors were not thrilled, and neither is he.

“Okay,” she says. There is something he’s not saying, she can hear it in his voice.

He hesitates a moment longer.

“Listen, the network… They want to do an interview. As soon as possible. Do you feel up to doing that?”

It sounds like the very last thing she’s interested in doing.

“Ethan, I don’t know,” she says, weary. What would she even say in an interview? Yes, I was kidnapped at gunpoint and my friend and producer was killed in front of me. I thought I was going to die. I thought I was going to be raped. I was held hostage without enough food and I passed the time by falling in love with my cellmate and having a lot of sex.

“I get it honey, you’ve been through a lot,” he says. He needs to stop calling her honey. “It’s just…”

“It’s just what, Ethan?” she says testily. No part of her wants to be having this conversation right now.

“The network. They… They paid a lot of money to the rebels for your release. They spent countless resources trying to find where you were being kept. There was a full week’s worth of news cycle on you when you were taken, and now that you’ve been rescued, it’s back in full swing. We’ve had requests for interviews from all the broadcast networks. But I feel like we owe it to CNN to appear there first.”

She is struck silent by his words. Ever the newsman, his priorities have remained the same since they met. And the word “we” bothers her.

“I’ll be right with you the whole time. I’ll pre-screen every question. You don’t have to do it alone.”

“That’s… very kind of you,” she says, with no emotion.

There is another hiss of static on the phone.

“Listen, it sounds like we have a bad connection,” he says. “I’m going to let you go. Bill should have your flight information by morning. I love you.”

She does not say it back.

2. They met, embarrassingly enough, at a pub.

She had actually agreed to go out with some friends from the hospital — something she never did — and they both ordered the same drink while standing next to each other at the bar, something fruity and pink. She was impressed at the confidence with which he placed his order and told him as much. He was impressed by her.

They began dating soon after, about a year after Ethan had started at CNN. She was working in pediatrics — something she both loved and hated — when Ethan brought up an idea one night while they were out to dinner.

“So one of my segments tomorrow,” he says. “The guest dropped out just as I was leaving for dinner.”

“Is that why you were late?” she asks.

He gives her a small smile, ignores her question and plows ahead. “It’s a story on the phenomenon of misinformation as it pertains to the AIDS epidemic.”

“Oh, Ethan,” she says, suddenly and genuinely interested in his work. She forgets to be annoyed at him. “That’s fantastic. There’s so much bad information out there.”

His smile gets wider.

“I was thinking,” he goes on. “That maybe you could step in.”

She’s confused. “What do you mean?”

“You could step in and be the guest. The medical expert. For the segment.”

“You mean on air?” She’s flummoxed by the idea. It’s ludicrous.

“Yes,” he says simply.

“Ethan, I’m not an epidemiologist. I’m not… There are far more qualified people that would do a much better job than I. Like… Spitzer. Or Harris. Or… who’s that guy from NYU, the one who wrote the paper? He could take the train down and be here in plenty of time.”

His grin has only gotten wider.

“I tried,” he says. “They’re all at a conference in Amsterdam. Listen, you’d do great. You know your stuff, you can think on your feet and, I mean… you’d look fantastic on camera.” He is playing on her vanity now.

“Kirby would have a heart attack,” she says, stabbing the olive in her drink with the straw. Kirby is an executive producer, and Ethan’s boss.

“Kirby already approved it.”

She was running low on arguments and he could sense the blood in the water.

“You’d be on air for five minutes, tops. And we can pay you.”

When she heard the amount, she blanched. She had med school loans to pay back and Ethan knew it.

In the end, she agreed to do it. And once she’d done it, she found that she liked it. Was good at it. Kirby was so thrilled with her performance that he asked her to come back, and eventually, to be an on-call medical expert. Not long after that, she was offered her own monthly segment that sent her out into the field. Ethan’s star began to climb. They moved in together. And one thing led to another which led to another, an odd snowballing effect which led her to a street corner in a war-torn city in West Africa, where she was kidnapped by a group of rebels and thrown into an upper floor hotel room with a man she had never met.

Where the course of her life once again took another hard right turn.

3. She has reached a level of numbness that she can’t fight her way out of.

She doesn’t actually want to fly back to the States. Well, she does, but she wants to find Mulder first. To talk to him, to explain. To have an honest conversation about what they went through and What Happens Next. What must he have thought when he saw Ethan on the base television? When he read the chyron under his name, when he heard him say ‘I want to put my arms around her and never let go?’

What must he be going through? Whatever it is, she feels like they should be going through it together. Nothing feels right anymore. For weeks and weeks all her experiences were filtered through a lens of the two of them together. Every decision she has to make now comes with the impulse of wanting to turn to him to see what he thinks about it.

Their relationship in the Hilton was something they were in the middle of. Everything inside her is screaming we weren’t done! It’s like they were mid-conversation when someone cut the phone line.

Ethan, her boyfriend, the man she has built a life with, feels like an annoyance, a pesky insect she wants to brush from her shoulder. Her life had narrowed to the four walls of a hotel room and the man that was harbored within them. The world outside of it is too much. She wants nothing to do with it. She wants Mulder and the narrow, fixed point of her life as it intersected with his. Nothing else feels right. It’s too much. She wants to be rid of it.

So she chooses to feel nothing. She chooses the hebetude of nihility. It’s not the healthiest choice, but at least it’s hers.

4. She tries on calling him Fox. Like slipping on a sweater she isn’t sure will suit her, she calls him by his first name.

“Fox,” she says, letting the X draw out a little, letting it hover in the air like a fine mist of smoke. She is wearing nothing but the natty sheet from the bed, which makes her feel libidinous and a little bit bratty. She’d like to reach out to touch him, but he’s on the other side of the room.

When he hears her say it, he winces. There’s a story there.

“You don’t like your name,” she observes.

He wanders back towards her a little, but gets caught in a shaft of sunlight streaming into the room.

Outside the window and up, up, the clouds look like cotton candy. They could be in Kansas, in Iowa, in one of those states in the middle with a lot of Walmarts and Republicans. Outside the window and down, there is the burnt-out husk of a Ford, there is a rounded shape of what once might have been a human turning to leather in the sun. A khaki colored dog trots by, like it has somewhere better to be.

“I—,” he starts, “I even made my parents call me Mulder.”

He gets to the bed where she’s waiting and lowers himself onto it, reaching out to touch her arm.

“Is that so?” she says.

He shrugs, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. Scully senses pain behind his silence and touches her hand over his where it rests on her arm. He rolls his hand over so their palms are touching and laces his fingers through hers.

“‘Fox’ was the last thing my sister ever said to me,” he says, looking at the floor. “She was calling out to me, asking for help. She was calling my name.”

A hard shot of empathetic pain darts through her chest.

“What happened to her, Mulder?” she asks quietly. If he doesn’t want to answer, she won’t force the issue.

He squeezes her hand and then lowers himself onto the floor next to the bed, leaning against it, the back of his head resting on the mattress.

“I was twelve when it happened. She was eight…”

5. “Tell us about the picture, Dana,” Maureen, the interviewer asks her, empathy or sympathy or pity edging into her speech from all sides.

The woman hands her an 8x10 color reproduction of the proof of life picture the rebels had taken, ever so slightly out of focus, the cheap little flash making her hair look like the orange of a lava flow. Mulder is standing just beside and slightly behind her and so he’s a little bit darker, and his beard in the picture is really just a few days worth of stubble. They both look frightened, a little stunned.

“Did the picture give you hope?” Maureen asks.

“Did it give me hope?” she asks, confused. She had been shoved up against the wall with guns in her face; hope was so far off in the distance it wasn’t even on the horizon.

“When they took the picture. The Proof of Life. Did you know then that we were trying to get you home? Did it give you hope?”

There’s that word “we” again. Scully swallows, looks down, shakes her head.

“He gave me hope,” she says quietly, staring at the Mulder in the photograph.

She thinks of his narrow hips between hers, his hands spanning her ribs. She thinks of the pictures he took, the way he looked at her like she was the only woman in the world.

“Fox Mulder?” Maureen asks her. “The other hostage?”

Scully nods, then finally pulls her eyes from the photograph and looks for Ethan in the darkness just behind the camera. She doesn’t see him. It’s hard to see anything with the lights so bright in her eyes.

“Yes,” she says, coming back to herself, remembering to be professional. “The other hostage. We leaned on each other.”

Maureen leans forward eagerly. “Why don’t you tell me about that, Dana.”

[formulaes5]

nothing in my system (feeling what i feel for you)

He tastes like cherry and vodka and Mark might actually fucking cry if he doesn’t get to kiss Sebastian Vettel like this forever for the rest of time. In which team celebrations are overrated and Mark finds God at the back of Seb's throat.

☆ 3.3k, E, ao3 ☆

It’s loud, nearly unbearably so. The club is packed to the brim with Red Bull team members; engineers and officials alike, all celebrating their Monaco one-two finish like their lives depended on it. The music was loud, the booze was on Red Bull’s tab, and Mark was relatively sure that it was Christian he could hear over the thump of the music, off in a corner booth, loudly explaining the ins and outs of his job to a handful of bemused looking employees, clearly less intoxicated than their boss. He got up from his bar stool with a snort, abandoning the last dregs of his beer on the bartop and walking off in search of a quieter spot to enjoy his victory from. It felt good to get one over his teammate, and Mark wasn’t going to let shitty top one hundred songs ruin it for him.

The crowd was surging now, moving with the beat in an uncoordinated mess, and Seb was using it as the perfect excuse to push through the throng towards Mark in confident strides, a beer and some fruity monstrosity of a cocktail clutched in hand and moving to the beat of whatever bass-heavy track was blaring in the background. He had forgone his usual horrendously ugly plaid shorts for a pair of jeans that hugged his legs all the way down, paired with an equally tight white tee that really left nothing to the imagination. Mark was a lot of things - he would admit to that - but one thing he wasn’t was a damn liar, and right now he could admit that Seb looked downright edible, all blond curls, big smiles, and the kind of firm round ass that was, in Mark’s professional opinion, just downright begging for a smack.

Mark rolls his eyes as Seb finally sidles up to him, pressing a beer into his hand with a big grin. “For the race winner”, he says jovially, not waiting for Mark’s response before taking a healthy swig of his own drink.

Mark thinks about refusing the beer, just to be contrary really, then decides that he doesn’t feel like playing their usual games. He won today, he felt great; he was going to take the damn beer.

He took a sip, shooting an obligatory “cheers mate” in Seb’s direction before realising with a start that Seb had picked up his preferred beer. He certainly hadn’t ever mentioned it to Seb. Interesting.

They struck up a decent conversation, discussing the race, their favourite parts, the highs and the lows and the notable incidents. Mark is vaguely aware of Seb placing his hand on his arm, moving it idly up his forearm as their conversation becomes more animated. He should probably have a problem with it, he thinks to himself absentmindedly. He should probably tell Seb to stop, or at least try and subtly move his arm away, try and discourage whatever Seb thinks he’s doing now. At the very least he shouldn’t like the way Seb is moving his hand along his arm.

They’ve definitely spent far too long huddled in the corner together avoiding the limelight at this point, but Mark couldn’t really find it within himself to care about external appearances this late into the night, his internal feelings on the matter of how touchy-feely Seb had been lately an entirely different matter. He doesn’t even know what they’re fucking talking about, and he suspects neither does his teammate, but all of a sudden Seb is bursting out into infectious peels of laughter, and Mark can’t help but to join in, doing a far larger amount of giggling than he would like to admit to as Sebastian stabilises himself by grabbing onto Mark’s shoulder for support, giggling the whole way through at what was no doubt an awful reference to classic British comedy or a highly circumspect and off colour joke not suitable for public broadcast.

“Air. I need some air,” Seb gasps through his giggles.

“Okay, okay mate,” Mark manages to get out between his own, “let’s find some air.”

They push their way through the crowd still laughing, Mark holding onto Seb’s hand and pulling him along by it so as not to get separated in the crowd as they work their way towards a back exit door, abandoning their finished drinks on a table they pass on the way out.

The door bangs against the wall as it opens and again as it closes, shattering the quiet of the alley they had emerged into. Mark takes a few steps and leans back against the wall, taking in the crisp night air and Sebastian’s slowly petering out giggles as he gets himself back under control and makes his way over to Mark. Seb stops next to him, suddenly quiet, with a look in his eye that Mark can’t quite parse.

Seb licks his lips and stares up at Mark as it all clicks into place. Hunger - that’s what the look is. If Mark wasn’t sure about where this was going before they got outside, he sure as fuck is now. That look was a perfect combination of predatory and desperate and they’re both tipsy, but nowhere close to drunk as Seb rocks up on his toes and plants his hand against Mark’s chest, pushing him back into the rough brick. Mark can’t even get a second to think; to work out if he’s interested, to react to whatever the fuck is going on here out the back of a Monaco nightclub, of all places, before Seb connects his lips with Mark’s in a messy approximation of a kiss, enthusiastic if a little sloppy. Mark could get on board with sloppy.

Fuck it, he decides. In for a penny. He kisses back just as sloppily; wet, messy and insistent. He presses his tongue forcefully into Sebastian’s mouth, tangling his tongue with Seb's. He tastes like cherry and vodka and Mark might actually cry if he doesn’t get to kiss Sebastian Vettel like this forever for the rest of time. He twists the fingers of one hand into the collar of Seb’s tight little shirt, pulling it taut around the back of his neck as he hauls him in closer to press a thigh between Seb’s own.

Seb rocks his hips down into Mark’s thigh, whining needily into his mouth as he does so, feeling sparks shoot up his back as a large hand presses firmly into his lower back, rucking up his shirt to rest against bare skin and dipping down to tuck his fingers into the waistband of Seb’s jeans. The kiss is downright filthy. It’s deep and electrifying and fucking fantastic and Seb had never enjoyed kissing anyone this much in his life.

Mark just can’t get over how much Seb seems to want this; want him. A part of him in a dark crevice of his mind somewhere is livid. Seb’s enthusiasm - demonstrated by the way he seems to be trying to crawl into Mark via his mouth - implies that he could have had Seb like this ages ago. He’s sure that he’s going to be pissed off if he finds out later that he could have had his tongue down Seb’s throat from the beginning of the year rather than waiting for them to get a third of the way through the season. That can be a problem for Future Mark, he decides as Seb does his level best to swallow down a particularly embarrassing gasp from Mark as their crotches rub up against each other in just the right way. Seb is giving everything he has to this kiss; it’s sloppy and perfect and if Mark doesn’t de-escalate the situation fast, he’s going to have bigger problems on his hands.

He pushes gently at Seb’s chest, encouraging him to pull back for air, parting from him with a shaky gasp.

Mark is at war with his own mind, battling over doing the correct, gentlemanly thing, or just saying fuck it and diving right back into those oh so enticing, deep pink lips, “Not that I’m not a hundred per cent on board with this,” Mark starts, trying to regain his breath as he runs a hand idly down the front of Seb’s shirt, “but you’re a bit drunk, aren’t you mate.”

Seb shoots an indignant scowl at him, but Mark pushes on while he still has the self-control for it. “Maybe we could pick this up later?”

He sounds ridiculous - his heart just isn’t in it. He knows it. Seb knows it. And to top it all off, Seb knows that he knows that Seb knows. It’s a hollow charade of decency that neither of them are really interested in playing out, and they both know it too. Good form can be so fucking overrated sometimes, and the sceptical look Seb is sending his way is just the icing on the cake.

Fuck it.

He slams back into Seb with all the finesse of a crashing car, and the shocked little squeak Seb lets slip could single-handedly fuel Mark’s wank bank for the next five years. He tangles his hand in Seb’s lovely blond curls and kisses him like he needs it to live, hard and fast and utterly indecent. He trails his lips from his mouth to kiss along his jaw and down his neck, relishing in the rasp of Seb’s stubble on his own. He makes his way back up to his mouth, crushing their lips together firmly and biting down on Seb’s bottom lip before pulling back, keeping Seb’s lip trapped between his teeth as he moves back to elicit a drawn-out moan from Sebastian as he pushes his thigh further up into his crotch to make up for the loss of his mouth against Seb’s.

He groans and closes his eyes hard, tipping his head backwards into the brick as Seb grabs at his crotch, pushes his hips forward, mindlessly pressing into Seb’s tiny fucking hand palming at his rapidly hardening length. Then Seb is moving, sinking downwards out of his line of sight and all of a sudden Sebastian Vettel is on his knees. Seb is down on the ground on his knees, and he’s on his knees just for Mark.

He looks down and Jesus Fucking Christ Seb is staring up at him from his knees, big blue eyes behind lovely blond lashes and if Mark doesn’t at the very least get some skin-to-skin contact with him he’s going to implode. He watches Seb bring his hand up to his belt buckle and Mark knows he’s fucked beyond measure as he sees him deftly unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans in one swift motion. He’s fucked. Absolutely fucked.

“Seb”, he gasps, still not quite believing what he’s seeing with his own two eyes.

“I’m definitely sober enough to suck your dick… Unless you don’t want me to?” he asks teasingly, the little shit. If Mark wasn’t so turned on right now, he’d be thinking about strangling him. Seb’s still looking up at him with that shit-eating grin as he palms at his crotch. Mark has no fucking clue what he would do if Seb stopped but it certainly doesn’t bear thinking about.

Seb slides his hand into Mark’s boxers, confidently wrapping his hand around his hard cock and giving an experimental tug, smiling sweetly as Mark lets out an appreciative sigh at the contact, before pushing his boxers down and out of the way. He looks up at him coyly and moves that little bit closer to bring Mark’s aching cock to rest tantalisingly against his kiss-bitten lips, placing gentle little kitten licks on the head of Mark’s cock as his hand finds a home fisted in the soft curls at the back of Seb’s head. He keeps kissing at the tip, gently sucking on it before pulling back and flattening his tongue against the underside of Mark’s cock, licking a long stripe up to the tip of his cock and taking him into his mouth, wrapping his lips around Mark’s cock and bobbing up and down a few times, letting himself adjust to the stretch of his lips and jaw around Mark’s girth. The hand on his head presses down gently, encouragingly almost, helping Seb to move down onto his cock and pick up a decent rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Mark murmurs, “that’s it baby, good job.” He’s not even sure what he’s saying, just focused on making sure Seb keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, moaning around his cock and picking up the pace.

He moves his hand from where it was gripping Seb’s hair, stroking it back and forth over the hinge of his jaw and stretching his thumb out to touch the corner of Seb’s mouth as he moves on his cock, “Yes, you’re doing so well sweetheart, taking me so well.”

Mark rocks gently into the wet heat of his lips as Seb clutches at the denim covering the back of his thighs, humming in appreciation at the feeling of Mark’s cock hitting the back of his throat. And fuck, he’s actually in his throat. He’s got his cock down Sebastian Vettel’s pretty little throat and Mark can finally die a happy man. The head of his cock is pressed up against the back of Seb’s throat and he’s taking it like a fucking champion, hollowing his cheeks around the thick length of Mark’s cock and tightening his lips at the base, shoving his nose into the neatly trimmed hair of Mark’s pubes. He moves his hand from Seb’s jaw and back to his head, holding him there with a sturdy grip, briefly thrusting further before releasing his grip on Seb’s hair.

Seb pulls off him with a gasp, leaving just the tip resting on his tongue as he regains his breath. He’s got spit all over his mouth and tears in his eyes and he’s the most beautiful thing that Mark has ever seen in his life. The way Seb is suckling at the head of his cock feels like borderline torture at this point, and he knows that he won’t last much longer when Seb dives back down onto his length, intensifying his ministrations with a single-minded focus as he moves progressively faster up and down Mark’s cock.

“Oh fuck,” Mark tapped urgently at Seb’s jaw, trying to pull away, to give Seb the option, but he wasn’t taking it, “Seb, baby.”

He barely gets a second to react to the building heat in his gut before it snaps like a rubber band and he comes with a strangled curse, right into Seb’s enthusiastic little mouth, still bobbing away on Mark’s cock, milking him for everything he had and swallowing enthusiastically around him.

Seb looks lazily up at him as he pulls off his cock, still connected by a thin trail of saliva running from the head of Mark's cock right to Seb's mouth. Seb swipes his tongue across his lips, breaking the connection and grinning smugly, obviously proud of himself.

It's just about the hottest thing Mark's ever seen, and he'll probably make some tentative plans to address that with himself later, but at the moment he has more pressing concerns.

“Fuck," he grits out, "get up here baby.” He pulls Seb roughly up to him, zeroing in on a leftover drop of come under Seb’s lip. The speed with which he rushes to lick it off of Seb’s face is probably indicative of a larger problem, but Mark doesn’t have time for problems now as he licks his way almost ferally into Seb’s mouth, chasing the taste of himself on Seb’s tongue and moaning at the thought of it. The power with which his orgasm had crashed over him had perhaps knocked some brain cells loose in the process.

Seb kisses back just as aggressively, pressing his hips insistently into Mark’s thigh, reminding him that he wasn’t the only person that needed to get off in this situation. Mark generally liked to hold himself to a high standard of performance when it came to pleasuring his partners in the bedroom, or the alleyway in this situation, and leaving Seb hanging simply wouldn't do.

He reaches down and undoes Seb’s belt, roughly pulls his jeans halfway down his thighs with a shaky hand, then he’s shoving his hand into Seb’s briefs and wrapping a large hand around him, producing a filthy, pornographic moan from the man in question as he finally received the long-awaited attention he had been craving. It didn’t take much, clearly having been on the edge for so long had put Sebastian on a hair trigger. Mark strokes his hand down Seb’s cock once, twice, and he’s gone, coming with a cry of Mark’s name, splattering his release onto the ground as he leaned his head in to rest on Mark’s shoulder, panting hot heavy breaths into Mark as his orgasm swept through him.

Mark gave him a minute, then placed a finger on Seb’s chin, gently tilting his head up and leaning in to plant a soft, closed-mouth kiss on his swollen lips. They stand there for a few minutes trading soft kisses before Mark decides to take the initiative. He tucks Seb and then himself back into place, pulling up zippers and tightening belts in the quiet of the night.

“You good?” he asks Seb quietly, stroking over his cheek and checking for anything that might look out of place if they were to reenter the club, finding nothing except his shockingly pink lips, which could hardly be fixed now.

“Ja,” Seb chirped happily, pressing his face into Mark’s hand with a distinctly sleepy hum, “alles gut.”

Mark lets out an amused huff at the fact that English had seemingly abandoned Seb in the moment. He stroked his thumb over the corner of his jaw, leaning in to kiss one corner of Sebastian's mouth, then the other, before placing one last kiss squarely on his lips, loving the way that Seb hummed with clear appreciation in his tone as he kissed him back.

All of a sudden their quiet moment was viciously interrupted by a loud bang. Mark whirled around as the door slammed against the wall, instinctively parting from Seb and dropping his hand from his face, positioning himself half in front of him as he turned to face the source of the noise..

“There you are!” cried Christian with barely disguised relief colouring his face, clearly oblivious to what he had just stumbled across his two drivers doing. “We’ve been looking for you!”

Taking stock of the situation, Christian peered back at Seb with concern. He turned to Mark to check, “Is Seb okay?”

Mark affected a nonchalant grin before responding to his boss, who would no doubt be decidedly not thrilled to learn that Mark had just had his prized driver on his knees sucking his cock like it was his greatest passion in life. “Yeah mate, no worries. He just had a bit much to drink so we came out for some air.”

The worry cleared from Christian’s face. Obviously, Seb had just overdone it a bit and Mark was looking out for him.

“Y’know how it is with lightweights,” Mark chuckled, shooting Christian a conspiratorial look as he jerked his thumb back at Seb dismissively.

“Am not a lightweight!” Seb chimed in indignantly from behind him, suddenly slurring his words in a way he certainly hadn’t been before they came outside. Mark was concerned for all of five seconds, worried that maybe he had misjudged the situation and taken advantage, before cottoning onto Seb’s dastardly plan. He shook his head to clear his worry, feeling a little foolish. Seb had the situation all under control here.

Mark turned to face Seb, shooting him a wink. “C’mon then mate,” he said, “let’s help peel the team off the floor in there shall we? Then we’ll tuck you into bed for the night.”

Seb let out a little snort before following Mark and Christian back inside the club, feeling extremely satisfied with himself as he reached out to pinch Mark’s ass on the way in, laughing when Mark jumped in alarm and reached out behind him to swat at Seb in protest.

He could certainly get used to this.

[putschki1969]

December 17: Kalafina Acitivities & Ambient Border -DAWN- Pre-Event Report

Tweet 1 & 2 by Hikaru | Instagram post by Hikaru

Finally have some time to sit down and post a little. I did tweet a few pictures here and there so if you follow me you will already know what I have been up to. But I have been feeling too exhausted to actually make proper posts. With such a busy schedule, it’s really no surprise that I keep falling into bed as soon as I get back to the hotel. Today was a more or less relaxed shopping day so I got back early.

After arriving in Japan on December 16 and having a pretty hectic first day, I spent December 17 doing a ton of Kalafina-related stuff. Was wearing a HiKei-inspired outfit to match the occasion and of course I brought my Cakey-beret which I won during her fan club lottery. Feels so nice to wear it here in Japan.

A fellow Kalafina-fan was kind enough to accompany me on some of my Kalafina activities. I get lost quite easily so I am always grateful to have someone around who knows the area.

Kalafina Pinky Ring: FINALLY!! I have been waiting for this opportunity FOREVER! The ring is so much prettier than the one they came up with for their 10th Anniversary. Also, they actually wore this themselves. Quite religiously back then. Keiko wears hers regularly up until this day! The other day Hikaru also wore it for Keiko’s birthday live broadcast. I am sure Wakana still owns hers as well.I have always wanted this ring but in the past I was too stingy and then the pandemic happened and I really didn’t wanna order something this pricey online. So yeah, first thing on my list was the AHKAH store. Best Christmas present ever! Is it weird that I kinda feel married to them now? XD Haha, okay, maybe “married” is not the right word. Oh well.I guess you could say that I am feeling a very strong connection now. Even stronger than before.

PIERRE HERMÉ cake: We all know that Hikaru surprised Keiko with a special chocolate cake on her birthday. It was actually quite easy to figure out where she got it from so of course I had to get one. It’s affordable and pretty small so I was able to finish it within a few days. Since it was a special limited Christmas edition, it tasted a LOT like Christmas. Very gingerbread-y with a hint of jam. Delicious!

Meguro River: I’ve never actually been to Meguro river so I thought I’d check out some of the spots that Hikaru had visited. One day I wanna see the cherry blossoms. I kinda regret not coming at night because there seems to be some sort of nice illumination thingy going on there...Oh well...maybe next time.

Ambient Border -DAWN-: Still can’t believe how easy it was to get a ticket for this. Was a bit intimidated by the TIGET service at first but it turned out to be quite convenient. Simple payment and you get a digital ticket. Had no issues with it. Seems like it was on a first-come-first-serve basis because depending on how early you bought your ticket the lower your number was. People were then allowed to enter the venue in order of their number to find a good spot. Thank God they provided chairs! Wouldn’t have liked standing for this event. Anyway, my number was 41 and I ended up on an aisle seat a few rows away from the stage. Pretty much had a clear view. I chose the Christmas ticket so I got a little A4-sized character card as present. Also bought the pamphlet since I hadn’t ordered that online (only got the Asebi bromides back then). The event started with Hikaru’s Ambient Border and OMG, seeing her in real life again for the first time in THREE years almost killed me. I quite literally teared up. To get an up-close view of her in such a tiny venue while she was wearing this super sexy cyber-punk outfit, I mean, who wouldn’t have combusted at that?! Hikaru sounded great and I was happy to finally hear the song live (it’s one of my faves from her album). Also made sure to buy the special Hikaru drink ^_^ It was a fruity ice-tea so thankfully something I was able to enjoy. After Hikaru, Yuki Sasaki sang his song for the the play and that concluded the first live corner. We pretty much transitioned right away to the two Q&A corners. The cast of the play is way too big so they had to separate the group. During the first set Hikaru was on stage together with a bunch of the other cast members (including Yuki Sasaki and Marina Hamada - I feel like their stories will be quite tightly interwoven which is also why they are singing the insert song “Under the Rain” together but more on that later). The mods had a little box from which everyone got to pick two short questions. It was mostly play-related stuff but I loved how carefree everyone was. I’ve actually never seen Hikaru like this on stage. Usually it takes her a while to warm up to her surrounding and most of the time she is a bit nervous or reserved but among this group of nerds she seems to feel 100% at home. She was clowning around with everyone as if she had known them forever. Super precious. Won’t lie, the second section of the Q&A and the prologue act for Ambient Border dragged a bit because Hikaru wasn’t involved in those but overall they were interesting and got me quite hyped for the play. I REALLY hope we’ll get a broadcast just like we did with her first play. They finished the event with another live corner. First Marina Hamada performed her solo song and then she was joined on stage to reveal a brand new insert song called “Under the Rain”. It’s a collab with Hikaru and Yuki Sasaki. All three got to sing a verse and then they all sang the chorus together. The verses are really lovely, the chorus is just okay I guess. I wonder if this song will ever get an official release. There was some talk about a CD but they didn’t really make an official announcement. Honestly, a CD for the entire play would be neat.

I really regret not getting a ticket for the evening show as well just to see and hear a bit more of Hikaru but then again, it was probably a good thing because jet lag would have kicked my ass sooner rather than later.

[alwyscrtns]

Song Storytime Sunday

feat. LS6 by Slaney Bay

(the song goes with the story, and its good, so play it as you read if you want!)

SO back in freshman year I took geometry (I took alg in 8th), the class was easy and my classmates were nice (mostly). At some point thoughout the year me and this girl, I'll call her C, get sat next to eachother. She was funny, I was funnier (in my opinion) we get along and become good friends.

I, a artist, noticed that her headphones were audio-technica m40s, valued at $100+. for those who don't know, that's a popular audio brand for professional audio. (Aka, not just regular headphones). I asked her where she got them from and then she told me about this radio camp she went to. Now also, as a artist, every single one of us gets excited when we hear the word "radio". Getting radio play is usually the #1 milestone for any small artist. So, when she said "radio" + "camp" I basically went like "!!!!".

We talk about it for a few days and eventually she shows me her radio "learners guide". It's really all common sense but it had a few funny moments. There was a list with words that you can't say on the radio. Including:

(all censored in my unique way)

Sht, P*ss, Fck, Cnt, C***sucker, MF, T*ts, BS

So anyways, I get her discord and apply for the summer camp that year (past the deadline). I wasn't expecting to get in, but I put down that I knew C on my application. School was ending, but me and C keep in touch through sending each other memes on Instagram and Discord.

C texts me, "she (wxox leader girl) says you can come in the last day of camp if youre free". i was SOOOO EXCITED. I replyed cool, when where how?". One thing led (lead?) to another, and I was inside the broadcast center one afternoon in July.

i did the hellos you usually do when you walk into a building, and waited on the couch in the lobby. (there was some cute boys there but i digress), C walked in and we start to talk about the books in the room. eventually, thats boring so she led me around to say hi to the other DJs who were early in a tour like fashion. there's not much to say about that, but I will note that I introduced myself as DJ Fruity 🏳️‍🌈 to the other DJs.

We go back in and the leader girl walks in and does a presentation/speech type thing and introduces me to the djs who came in after my tour. not much to note here, but everyone was very nice.

we go into the studio and a very professional looking guy comes in with us. he shows me this LOOONG radio contract. I dont sign without reading, so I sit and read it for a moment.

"we reserve the right to use, share, publicize, and monetize your radio show in perpetuity"

(normal talk: we own everything you say on the radio forever)

The other guys before us were doing some talk show, and were running overtime (a serious infraction in the radio world apparently). very professional guy comes in and ushers them out. I fiddle with the headphones (also m40s) for a while (they fold on themselves), professional guy helps me, and then it was time to go on air.

we snap a pic first:

C: "Hi, this is me, DJ C (forgot her dj name) and today the show is about national r&b history (something). I'm here along with..." she pauses for me to answer (thankfully)

Me: "dj create!"

(I figure you can't identify as DJ Fruity on radio)

I forget what she says next, but somehow we get onto the topic of my music "career" (i still consider it a hobby).

C: "which one of your songs did you you have the most attachment to?"

me: "I released this one song back near the start of my "career" titled albu, its real emo. the whole song is a extended metaphor with internal conflict and a lake"

She starts playing the first song, 🎵Killing Me Softly With His Song🎵. (by Lauren Hill) Anyone who's listened knows that that song knows that it ends with... a not so radio friendly bit. so we had to quickly abort halfway through the song and we go into a interview type thing.

C: "do you wanna play a song?"

me: "idk any good r&b songs"

C: "it doesn't have to be r&b, just radio friendly"

So, I played the song of the day, ls6 on the radio for r&b day. if you're listening to the song you obviously realized, it's not a r&b song, but everyone loved it anyways. I loved the experience, and I hope I get to attend the full boot camp next year. Shout out (to whoever read this whole thing) to WXOX 97.1 FM radio Louisville ❤️ (they also go by ARTxFM sometimes, Idk the difference, sblmk)

link to wxox website

Picture of all of us:

(Profesional guy is far right, leader girl is the one next to him with sunglasses on)

the end

there's more to this story, but I don't want to write too much if nobodies listening. if I get enough likes (like more than 20 ig) I'll write out what happened afterwards! comment any questions you have!

post song bonus ideas:

(r&b trivia and "the force")

(pizza party)

the actual end

[myimaginarywonderland]

This is a shout out to any new fans:

Thanks for deciding to give the series a chance!

We always love to see new people here, although you might be in for a ride if you are used to the calm that is F1.

So, just from someone whose seen every race and been here a bit now, let me just give some quick tips:

1. Don't ever be afraid to reach out if you have any questions. Even when live you will find many of us blogging about the race so if you have questions either post them or just message a blog, I am sure most people will be happy to help!

2. There really is no supporting a right driver like there is in F1. So many drivers are adored by the fans and barely any of the FE drivers are even close to someone problematic to support. There are however still drivers who are less liked so just to make you aware: DiGrassi is very problematic because of his political opinions. I am not the best person to talk about this as I am neither Brazilian nor fully updated but he is a supporter of Balsonaro.) Then many who have followed F2 will know why most don't like Ticktum. Some of us used to dislike Vandoorne which was mainly because of his former team being Mercedes and us disliking them and their participation in FE. Then there is also the hate for Rast that you might see which is because of McLaren and him just giving some weird vibes (+ the annoying praise he got from the German broadcast.) But for rhetorische record no one besides DiGrassi and Ticktum is actually really problematic, people just tend to dislike them. And even DiGrassi is an entertainment sometimes. Just support whoever you want because there's a 80% chance they are beloved by the fans anyway.

3. Literally no one cares which team you support. I think besides people hating McLaren, there is no team rivalry. 0. You like Abt? Good for you. You love Nio because their the underdog? You go.

4. There is also pretty much no actual rivalry between the drivers. Yes, things were heated once between Buemi and DiGrassi when they were fighting for titles and you will definitely see drivers bitching (sometimes even having a go at each other but rarely fully physical in any way) but there's really no long lasting rivalry on the current grid. Most of the drivers respecet and support each other and many are even close friends. Many have known each other for years so it's natural that there's just a silent understanding. I mean, you had the last champion and runner up travel together.

5. If you think F1 is fruity you are in for a surprise. Because there's not the heavy and intense rivalries like F1, you will be surprised by how openly drivers praise each other and also show physical affection.

6. You will see the term lottered and trust me, you'll probably understand but still just in case: André Lotterer, a driver that is a menace on track, will often collide with other drivers thus creating this term.

7. Speaking of colluding and contact, be prepared to see actual wheel to wheel fights with even scrapping. FE cars are more robust and will yes drivers can and probably will be taken out, the racing is much closer and hands on than F1 for example. So, don't necessarily be alarmed by the scrambles.

8. Be prepared for the different qualifying format! It's a knock out type of qualifying so no set lap times that can improve like in F1. There's many people who have talked about this, so just look at their incredibly well made posts.

9. Don't expect anything is a weird thing to say but it's probably the only way you could have your expectations meet. FE tends to go one way and suddenly another or throw a random thing in the middle of the race to suddenly change it. You'll have expected people on the front row for qualifying and suddenly some midfield driver will put in the best lap of his life.

10. Another thing: Don't expect there to be on top team and a back marker (yes, I am still choosing to believe in Nio.) There'll be many drivers on the front and it's usually only after 8 races you can start to single out a top 5. Similarly, a midfield team can suddenly just win a race and come back.

11. Most importantly: Just have fun. You don't have to understand the sport immediately or already know who you want to support. It's fine to change all of that, to learn along the way. Just enjoy the racing and hopefully you'll want to stick around to become a fan!

[thestalkerbunny]

You remember that made up show you made with the roadkill puppet? I been watching videos of old children tv shows and it make want to know more about it, like it's characters and behind the scenes story if you have thought of any.

okay so Let's TALK.

Meatlug's first proper appearance was in a comic I drew called 'The man in the vent. Which is sort of a thought I have sometimes cause I have a vent in my ceiling and I think about how TERRIFYING it'd be for there to be someone in my vent.

The idea of a video informing you of something happening in real time sorta sparked this whole thing. I didn't really intend for him to be a 'ferret' but he sorta ended up being....well a ferret. There wasn't really a way to explain WHY he looks like that.

Thing in a Bucket was honestly a creation I made to oddly enough express a sense of anxiety I didn't quite know I HAD yet. Just a sort of odd paranoid little creature that hides itself in a bucket and it's mouth is always bleeding because it chews on it's tongue out of worry.

Opossuracoocat was basically a fucked up looking hybrid creature that someone turned into a puppet and has resented it every since. He was originally a hand puppet. I decided to give him legs out of pity for him.

Hat-A-Lad is honestly a design I like a lot, he's sort of built like a trash can and he's stylized to look like those default designs of 'strangers' on those signs in neighborhoods saying they've got a neighborhood watch. He's sort of become a straw man if you will for general ignorance and stupidity. A sort of stand in for a viewer who may be getting into something bad or stupid (like MLM schemes or stranger danger)

I did do a comic with him once to sort of show better how his mouth seemingly works and how freakish he could be if he wanted to be.

Keratin was more of the latest creations, the idea stemming from a fancy sort of high quality puppet being saddled on a kid's puppet show. Keratin is actually the thing hair made of and he's sort of a monster made of just hair. I really like the high quality puppets you sometimes see in movies and stuff and then compared side by side next to kermit the frog looking fuckers.

For anyone curious, Keratin would be the very obvious gay rep in the show, not even subtle about it-people watching it would be like 'that rude monster is a homosexual' I mean the whole puppet cast is a little fruity in their own ways-but Keratin would be the one who is actually voiced by a drag queen and has a sort of hard to tell 'male/female' voice that layers over each other.

I have joked with friends the idea that Meatlug N Pals was a tv show made by collage students as a part of a large senior art project finale and was aired on a small local broadcast channel late at night (You know where the kids can't exactly see it) and for some reason even after that, the episodes continued to air.

Meatlug N Pals is just basically a children's puppet show that is aware it's built like a children's puppet show but insists on talking about adult topics like sex, divorce, how politics work, getting involved in a cult, taxes, shit like that. They also swear a lot.

[yandereplumsim]

The Grunt brothers please 🐶 🥘☕🍦🍕🍟📺👜💻🔮

I was missing doing these, thank you ❤

Tank Grunt

🐶 :Pet or favorite Animal

As animals in general, I have a tendency to relate him with Wild Boars. They were one of Ares’ representative animals and symbolized Strength and Will to Fight, which... sounds QUITE like him. 

🥘: Favourite Food

I’ll go with a classic and say Hamburgers. He prefers the homemade ones over the fast food chains, he’s quite picky with them, and he sounds like Meg Ryan in “When Harry Met Sally” when she’s ordering her food (thru the Orgasm part of the scene is Totally Lilith on their first official date). 

☕: Favourite Drink

hmmm, plain water. I don’t see him drinking alcoholic drinks or overly sugary ones.

🍦: Ice-cream Flavour

Something between either Pistachio, Vanilla or Chocolate. Maybe the three of them (?)

🍕: Pizza Topping

SALAMI.

🍟: Snack

He has something for Energy bars since he was little, they look like Astronaut’s food. I was going to say dry meat, but that sounds more like something for Buzz.

📺: TV Show they like to watch

He likes Detective/Suspense, Old Space series and Sports. If alone is likely he will end up with the two first options, but might stay and watch some War/army Documentary if his dad, or some game. 

👜: What's always on their bag

A  Swiss Army knife, gifted by the General when he turned Sixteen. 

💻: Website they visit the most

True Crimes Forums, maybe (?) 

🔮: Something Random

He’s Captain for the running team at Strangetown High School and is also a pretty good swimmer.  

Ripp Grunt

🐶 :Pet or favorite Animal

Turtles and Tortoises. With a brother’s whose anima i related to Strength and Will to fight, it felt right to give Ripp one that symbolises peace and taking life slow. 

🥘: Favourite Food

Spaghetti... Is also the only hot dish he “knows” how to make, and yes is debatable, because he basically puts everything from the tomato sauce can on a pot, add the dry pasta and turns the gas. He latterly has learned to put Sugar to cut some of the Tomato’s acid and has been starting to add some vegetables on it. 

☕: Favourite Drink

Cola drinks. Like either Coca-cola or Pepsi on their original flavours. 

🍦: Ice-cream Flavour

Banana Split or Strawberry, I'm inclined for more fruity flavours for him. 

🍕: Pizza Topping

Tomato, peppers and onion slices on top of the cheese.  

🍟: Snack

Nachos or Froot loops type cereal. 

📺: TV Show they like to watch

He will watch the “Saturday morning cartoons” with Buck, almost religiously. But on his own he could pretty much watch Music videos or some cooking program.

👜: What's always on their bag

His headphones. He does own an old Walkman that he found, but only have one or two cassettes of old 70′s rock to play on it. 

💻: Website they visit the most

Youtube. 

🔮: Something Random

He started writing his own songs while working at the gas station.

Buck Grunt

🐶 :Pet or favorite Animal

He loves DOGS. beside the fact that they’re named on his bio, it just fits for him to like dogs. I like to give the Grunts German Shepard dogs, so that also answer the Pets part of this question also for Tank and Ripp. 

🥘: Favourite Food

Peanut and Jelly Sandwiches. They’re the most practical thing he can make by himself (when Ripp’s experimental food gets burned) He also likes in general everything Mrs Smith makes. 

☕: Favourite Drink

He likes Lemonade, with a lot of sugar. 

🍦: Ice-cream Flavour

Peanut butter, even better if you can put some jam over it.

🍕: Pizza Topping

Ripp’s nachos on top of the cheese from a regular Pizza.

🍟: Snack

M&Ms or Skitters kind of candies and Froot Loops like Ripp.

📺: TV Show they like to watch

“Saturday morning” cartoons with Ripp or any Dog centred show that the Strangetown’s Broadcast shows.

👜: What's always on their bag

Snacks and Ranger Stanley‘s survival guide. 

💻: Website they visit the most

Too young to get the General’s permission to use the computer outside School investigations.

🔮: Something Random

Maybe is because they live so close to the Military base, or because a lot of the hand down toys he got from his older brother were planes or military related, he really likes airplanes.

[hypfic]

After Facing the Wall

so.... that DH vs BB live huh... if you haven’t seen the live I don’t think this really spoils anything since it’s pretty ambiguous, but if you’re trying to avoid any mention of it, avert your eyes!

I wrote this as a completely self indulgent drabble at first, but then I kept going and the next thing I knew, I was four pages deep in Ichiro love... When I first got into hypmic I wasn’t a big fan of Buster Bros, but now?? Oh boy now they’re tied for first with Fling Posse.... and Ichiro... I love him so much and want to hold his hand....

(I was supposed to finish working on chapter 3 of IKOT109 yesterday but I did this instead... chapter 3 should be done soon! she’s a long one!)

☆♬○♩●♪✧♩　　♩✧♪●♩○♬☆

You’re laying in bed half awake after watching the broadcast of today’s DRB. Unfortunately, you were stuck at home with a cold as the brothers went off to battle. 

You were just dozing off when the front door to the apartment creaked open. Rubbing drowsiness from your eyes, you grabbed your glasses from the nightstand and shuffled out of the bedroom. You stood silently in the doorway of the kitchen, leaning against the framing as the three brothers briefly discussed the night’s events. Ichiro glanced up and caught your eyes, smiling weakly at you. He was hurting, the opponent he faced today, that the three of them faced today, was greater than any boss before. 

You walked over and gave the two younger bros a hug, holding them tight and expressing your pride. After ruffling Jiro and Saburo’s hair, you sat next to Ichiro. You reached down and took his hand in yours, leaning into his side and kissing his cheek. As he continued to talk with his brothers, you rested your head on his shoulder, tracing circles around his bruised knuckles. You didn’t say anything, you didn’t need to, just being there was enough. 

The brothers’ conversation gradually lagged and the two of you were soon alone. Ichiro sighed and kissed the top of your head, squeezing your hand for reassurance. You knew that this… this was all a lot for him. An old friend and teammate, and his father…. He had so much in his mind. You looked up at him and kissed his furrowed brow, reaching over to wipe the forming tears from his eyes. 

“Hey, let’s go upstairs, ok? Lay in bed and cuddle, alright? Hmm?”

Ichiro nodded, eyes still focused on the wall in front of him. You tugged him up by his sleeve and didn’t let go of his hand until the two of you were in his room. As soon as the door closed behind you, Ichiro pulled you into his arms in a tight embrace, burying his face in the top of your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he held you tight, head resting over his heart. You swore you could hear it bleed and break. 

The two of you held each other close, simply basking in the safety and comfort of the other’s arms. You felt a few tears dampen your hair, you pulled Ichiro even closer. 

He pulled away after allowing the moment to linger. He looked tired, empty, uncertain. You stood on your toes and moved a hand to cup his cheek, sweetly kissing his lips. Ichiro smiled meekly at you, leaning down and pressing your foreheads together. He let out a weighted sigh as he reached for your hands again. You could feel his tremble. 

It was hard for Ichiro to uphold the strong, unbreakable front he presented. This was especially so when it came to his family… his brothers. You’d watched the three of them grow so much since their previous loss, yet this battle seemed to hurt even more. 

You couldn’t begin to imagine what your boyfriend was thinking. What he was feeling. Rei’s cutting words haunted your mind, but you only experienced them second hand. Ichiro… Ichiro was in the direct line of fire. To be spoken to like that by the man that’s caused him so much hurt… you couldn’t wrap your head around how Ichiro must feel. 

You pecked his lips again and tugged him towards the bed, pulling him into your lap as you sat down. Ichiro liked to be held, and you loved to hold him. Even though you were much smaller than the man in your arms, your presence and embrace was immensely comforting. 

Ichiro sat up for a moment and removed his jacket, tossing it to the floor before settling back in your arms. He laid his head on your chest, breathing in sync to the drumming of your heartbeat. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, humming a tune softly as his hand made their home around your waist. 

“Ichi,” you said softly. 

“Hmm?” 

“I’m really proud of you,” you swallowed back tears, halting your hand and bringing your face down into his hair. It smelled like sweat and smoke, with the lingering hint of his stupid, fruity shampoo. “You and the bros did so well. You especially, I guess I’m a bit biased but,” you moved your hand from Ichiro’s hair to wipe away tears. “You’ve grown so much, and I think everyone can see that. You’re so strong, and you held your ground the entire time. I think he underestimated you and you rose way above his expectations…”

Ichiro shuffled out of your arms to face you, smiling softly as he took your hands. He brought them up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, tracing the curves with his thumbs after placing your linked hands in his lap. You knew if you looked at him, both of you would burst into tears so you stared at your linked hands. 

He scooted closer to you and let go of your hands, reaching over and holding your face. You had no choice but to look up at him and wobbly smile, the flooding feeling of tears in the back of your throat. 

Ichiro’s eyes were misty when he looked at you, a few tears slipping down his cheek. “Thank you, y/n. For everything. For being here, for supporting me, for supporting Jiro and Saburo too. I don’t know if they express it enough but they love you just as much as I do, they see you as a part of our family,” he leaned down and kissed your lips. “I think I love you just a bit more though. But, I don’t think we’d be anywhere close to where we are today if it wasn’t for you.”

“Don’t say that…. I’m sure you would. All of the progress the three of you have made has nothing to do with me.”

Your boyfriend shook his head. “You might not think it, but you inspire us, inspire me to be better. After all my bros and I have been through together…. I’ve always wanted to be the best for them. To provide for them and protect them, especially after that incident years ago. But, every day they show me that maybe I’m the one who needs protecting. They always have my back and put so much faith in me, I don’t think they know how much faith I have in them.” Ichiro paused. “After you stumbled into my life and in turn into theirs, I think I relaxed more, allowed myself to rely on my family for advice and support. I know I say this a lot but I was terrified to ask you out,” he blushed, “But the two of them insisted that I try and I’m so glad they did. You brought in something we could think about that wasn’t work or division related, and that allowed us to relax and focus on ourselves… I’m forever grateful for that.”

You didn’t realise that tears started running down your cheeks. “I-Ichi….”

Ichiro smiled and kissed your forehead, brushing your tears away with his thumb. “I love you, baby, so damn much.”

“Yeah the ‘kyun’ really gave it away,” You teased with a giggle, cheeks flushed. 

“Ah… yeah, I…” he stammered. 

You laughed, leaning up and kissing him. “It was cute~ it made my heart jump.” 

“Oh my god, it’s really not that big of a deal babe I-“ Ichiro huffed, cheeks red. 

“But seriously, Ichiro. You guys did so well, I’m just sad I couldn’t have been there to cheer you on from the crowd…. stupid cold,” you pouted.

“Well, think of it this way, you cheer me on every day no matter where you are, just by being here with me.”

“Ichi that was disgustingly sappy and adorable I’m going to vomit.”

He laughed, “Says the one who was kissing me all over and expressing how proud they were of me,” Ichiro paused and looked at your shirt. “And wearing my Miku t-shirt.” Ichiro flicked your forehead. 

“Hey! It’s comfy ok? And I missed you and it smells like your cologne….” You blushed. 

“Oi, are you two done being gross and look decent?” Jiro knocked on the door. “.... Can Saburo and I come in?”

Ichiro looked at you and smiled before patting his lap in invitation. You climbed into his lap and sank into his embrace as he wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your head. 

“Come on in, boys,” you called out with a smile. “You want in on this, Jiro-chan?” You smirked as Jiro fake gagged at the sight of you in his brother’s lap. 

The two younger brothers stood in the doorway timidly, Saburo holding onto the back of Jiro’s sleeve. They both had a look of physical and emotional exhaustion on their faces. 

“Alright, come on, in the hug you go,” you opened your arms wide with a smile. 

You could practically see their hearts swell with joy before they threw themselves on the bed. Tears fell on their lashes as you and Ichiro pulled them in tight. Your eyes looked back and met Ichiro’s. His gaze was filled with love and charity. You wouldn’t have it any other way.   

[greyias]

Companion Interview Meme

Tagged by: @a-muirehen — thank you for the tag!

Pick three companions who know your OC/muse well. Answer the questions from at least one of their companions points of view. Replace anywhere it says ‘Grey’ with your OC’s name. Name the three companions who will be answering here: 1. Theron Shan 2. Lana Beniko 3. Kira Carsen Are they ready to be candid with their responses? Don’t worry, this is totally private. Grey will never read it.

(Slight spoiler warning in one answer for Echoes of Oblivion)

1. First Impressions. What was the first impression you had of Grey?

Theron: Look, it’s complicated. Like on one hand, she just had to be hiding something, because she was just so—so—no one is that nice! Or naive. It had to be an act somehow. I was convinced of it, there had to be something wrong with her, some deep, dark dirty secret she was hiding. Because if she wasn’t then that means she was a genuinely good person who actually cared deeply about random strangers and that was just weird. And kind of wonderful. And in retrospect when I look back maybe I just... needed a few reasons to keep people at arms distance. I once told her that I loved her from the moment I saw her. Striding into the situation room like she owned the place and... yeah. That was also true. As I said, it’s complicated. And I’m kind of an idiot.

Lana: I was quite impressed by what I had assumed at the time was a great deal of pragmatism. She was a Jedi, and yet didn’t seem bothered at all by the fact that I was a Sith. In fact, sometimes I think maybe she was... fascinated by it? There was a moment or two where I wondered if... well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now. She has always been a force to be reckoned with. It’s easy to follow someone like that... even if they are a Jedi (and a very impractical one at that. I really should have seen that coming in retrospect.)

Kira: She didn’t know how to take a joke. I mean, I’ve gotten better over the years, but at the start I’d had a tendency to make jokes first, assess the situation later. I’d made some comment about taking no prisoners, and you would have thought I’d just kicked a puppy instead of making a joke. Kind of felt like I had from the look on her face. Luckily, I think we both made better second impressions when we started working together on Coruscant.

2. Grey walks into a bar. No, it’s not a joke - what does she order? If you give her a credit for the jukebox, what kind of music would she put on?

Theron: Something fruity and filled with rum if you don’t stop her. Don’t let her drink the rum. And then because she has no loyalty whatsoever she’ll put on Tai-Vor Swivt on the jukebox and just share my special playlist with the whole cantina. Um. I mean. Her playlist. I don’t like Tai-Vor. I only listen to Heavy Isotope. And things like that.

Lana: The answer depends on the time of day, her mood, and several other factors. I have it all documented in this rubric here. You’ll need to give me more specifics on your inquiry if you want an accurate answer.

Kira: I mean, usually she just orders caf, which almost always gets a dramatic eyeroll from the bartender. So I usually have to order so we don’t get the stinkeye the entire time. And usually she lets me pick the music too -- I kind of suspect she didn’t really know many of the artists. Not exactly dialed into pop culture, that one.

3. How does Grey spend a day off from work?

Theron: Hmm, if I have my way it’s a nice slow morning and any message sent to her e-mail receives a cordial out-of-office message (Lana gets two for each message she sends.) Maybe later we can take a walk in the woods, go pet those stinky Exoboars running wild and ruining the Odessen countryside, maybe we get a little lost along the way. Spend the evening winding down with one of her swashbuckling holoflix. If I don’t have my way someone winds up asking her a work question and then she doesn’t get a day off. Yes. I know the irony of this coming from me.

Lana: If she is onsite at Odessen nowadays she seems to spend it in a mix between time in her quarters, leaving the base to take a walk in the woods, trying to duck surveillance to meditate in her “secret” spot. 

Kira: Back on the Defender, it was just a lot of meditating, practicing her katas, sparring. Honestly, even on her days off she usually just kept trying to make sure we were prepared for the next mission. Although if I invited her to do something normal she’d go along with it. So I may have made sure some of our off days coincided so she would actually take something resembling a break. The weirdo. She seems to have relaxed a little from that here on Odessen. I think that’s nice.

4. What silly superstitions or funny traditions does she observe?

Theron: She meditates each morning, and still observes the Jedi morning fast. Except she totally cheats on her fast and will drink a cup of caf if its hand delivered to her. She’ll warm her hands on the mug as she takes in a big whiff, and this little smile spreads across her face. It causes the freckles on her nose to wrinkle. And maybe I’m the one who hand delivers the caf because its hard to think of a better way to start the day.

Lana: We do not speak of the fruitcake, or any of her other attempted holiday traditions. If we do not encourage her, then maybe she’ll stop. Please, we must all band together, for the good of my digestive tract.

Kira: Whenever we would finish up a mission on a planet, she liked to take off her socks and boots and meditate with her feet sticking into the ground. She even wanted to do it on Quesh but Doc was loud enough on that instance to be able to talk her out of it. She tried to hide it but she looked really disappointed, so I tried to cheer her up by joining her on this weird mud hop at our next port of call. Not sure if I really felt any different but it seemed to make her happy.

5. What does Grey wear to bed? And just how do you know that?

Theron: Traditional night wear is a thin tank top and sleep pants. Let’s just say sometimes there’s less traditional night wear, or sometimes less than that -- but that’s between husband and wife.

Lana: On mission she typically wears something quick to change into her armor. On base she seems to have a standard set of pajama bottoms and sleeveless sleep shirt. How do I know this? Let’s just say I have to keep the Commander on schedule, even when certain people who should know better try and distract her from our very busy day running things.

Kira: She usually was changed and ready for the day before I ever saw her, but sometimes there’d be a late night where she couldn’t sleep, and I’d find her in the Defender’s mess. Pretty simple and spare sleepwear, sleep pants and tank top. Fashion’s not exactly her priority, you know?

6. Your favorite memory of Grey?

Theron: Why do you make me pick? Damn... that’s hard. There’s almost too many to choose, but... I guess it would be just after we got back from Nathema, and I was trying to apologize for everything and... somehow that turned into a proposal. And despite me being a stumbling awkward mess she still said yes and... look. I probably should have picked a different one, I’m not really good at the talking about feelings thing.

Lana: That moment when the broadcast across the galaxy happened after she had tamed the Eternal Fleet, she stood poised and powerful, finally setting the galaxy aright after Zakuul had torn it asunder. It was a moment more than five years in the making and I couldn’t have been prouder.

Kira: That moment when we stood, side-by-side, with everyone else in the Force and turned that creep Tenebrae, and every other of his counterparts into absolute crumbling dust. It almost made up for the fact that I wasn’t there the first two times she sent him packing.

7. A time you very nearly almost kissed Grey?

Theron: I mean, if we’re being technical, I had... thought about it for one moment on Manaan. Just a brief second, as we were saying our farewells before I went into hiding. Our eyes had met while we were shaking hands goodbye and it would have been so easy to just pull her in close and--I didn’t. Of course I didn’t. Not then at least. Now though? I don’t miss a chance.

Lana: I was angry at myself, my weakness, and taking it out on the clutter around the Gravestone. I had been surrounded out in the swamp, and only Koth’s timely intervention had saved me. She had come seeking me out to make sure that I was all right, to check on my injury. And in the low light, she just looked so concerned and guilty, and I’m fairly certain she was leaning in. I would have, you know, if Koth hadn’t been throwing around things and making a racket.

Kira: It was right after my Knighting, and I had snuck a bottle of champagne on board to celebrate. I suspect she hadn’t ever actually tasted alcohol before, judging by her reaction to the first sip. But we kept drinking, and giggling, kind of like we weren’t stuffy Jedi at all. And there was this moment where she asked me about Nar Shaddaa. Not pushy or anything, just... curious about my experiences. She never talks about it, but I don’t think she really knew much of life outside of the Order so she was always cautiously curious. And there was this moment where I was telling her about my first kiss and we kind of leaned in and--nothing happened. At the time I didn’t want to risk making things weird. I... like where we’re at. I’m fine with it.

8. Vacation time! Where do you take Grey for some R&R?

Theron: You know, I just love the sound of that word. Vay-cay-shun. Despite popular opinion I actually do take them, maybe a few more now than when I was single. We have a secret little hideaway that no one else knows about that I like to take her to when things get a little rough or we just need a break from the everything the galaxy is deciding to throw her our way.

Lana: You know, a vacation does sound nice, but someone has to keep things running here, especially when a certain nameless spy whisks our Commander away to fake locales. Seriously, I need a proper itinerary. What if I need to contact them? It’s just rude. Oh right, the question. I suppose I wouldn’t mind visiting some place quiet and out of the way, although I honestly have yet to find a place in galaxy that qualifies because if I take Grey for some reason she always finds someone in trouble that she insists on rescuing.

Kira: I’m not sure if it qualifies as a vacation per se, but I’ve been able to sneak her and one of our other Jedi buddies around base off to Nar Shaddaa for a Girl’s Night. Those are fun, even if we kept getting hit on at the bars. Although that can be entertaining in itself, especially that one time some guy pretended to be a Jedi, and then got this very detailed lecture on how bad an idea that was from Grey. I don’t think I’ve seen a man wilt so fast in my life. I would pay to see that again.

9. Grey’s sense of humor -is it dry, immature, sarcastic, self-deprecating, physical, witty, dark, or…?

Theron: I think it depends on the situation and her mood. It can be very subtle, and sometimes I can’t tell if she’s being serious when she says something ridiculous, or if she’s messing with me. Which... I suppose is fair, because sometimes I do the same to her.

Lana: She loves a good pun, which I find delightful. It’s doubly delightful just to see Theron roll his eyes and groan like he’s being tortured.

Kira: I think a lot of people don’t really get her humor, and honestly it took me a while to realize when she was joking. She likes to let others take the lead when it comes to cracking jokes, but when she does make a zinger, it takes a few seconds for it to land. They’re a lot more sly and subtle than you’d think. My favorite is when she starts to get really frustrated with someone and makes really dry, pointed comments that usually sail right over their heads. She has so many people fooled with that sweet serene Jedi act, they don’t even realize the epic burn until long after the conversation has ended.

Tagging: @confettininjabean, @thewriterandmuse. @shanfamilydrama, @storyknitter, @lumielles, @captainderyn, and @brietopia

[catcherappreciator]

“Ernie Clement, his partner,”

[lu-undy]

Chapter 79 - SBT

Here it is!

The sun was starting to set and Lucien set his foot on the ground as he braked at a red light. He felt Mundy brush his sides and smiled. 

To the outside world, they looked like two friends on a ride between point A and point B. But to themselves, it was immensely different. They were not only travelling through a few streets together. It was their entire life that they wanted to spend as close as they were on that black motorcycle with dark red reflections. 

The traffic light went from red to green and the engine roared. They flew through the streets fluidly, effortlessly. Lucien proved to be an excellent bike rider, prudent and efficient. After an enjoyable ride, the Frenchman stopped the motorcycle and hopped off. 

Lucien and Mundy removed their helmets. 

"Here we are." He said. 

"Oh…?" Mundy looked at what stood in front of him. He was surprised. He genuinely didn't expect Lucien to take him to a… pub. 

"Close your jaw, mon loup." Lucien chuckled.

[My wolf]

"Well, I'd never have expected that from you. You don't look like the pub type!" Mundy answered. 

"Such a lot of things you assume about me…! Come." 

They entered and both were hit with a smell that Mundy hadn't experienced in more than a year. It smelt of beer, hop and the different and subtle flavours of the beers they create. The visual atmosphere was very cosy too. The pub had off-white painted walls that had turned more yellowish with the years. Large, dark brown beams of wood shot from the ground to the quite low ceiling and above people's heads, more of those same slightly curvy logs decorated the ceiling. The lights were yellow, almost orange and people's chattering wrapped them in a crowded kind of intimacy, paradoxically enough.

Lucien went to the counter and placed an order while Mundy was trying to spot an empty table, preferably far from other people. But the establishment was quite busy. On the television, a rugby game was broadcast and the sports enthusiasts had gathered to support their team around a pint or two. 

"Mundy?"

"Huh?"

"Let us find a seat." 

"Right." 

They walked through the pub, slithering through people, zigzagging around the tables until they met a flight of stairs. 

"Let us try upstairs." 

"Ok." 

The upstairs area had the same kind of atmosphere and was as crowded as below. 

"Here, a table." Lucien headed to it and put the two beers down. Mundy took a seat opposite him. 

"Thanks, love." 

"My pleasure." 

They were in a corner, there was a lamp on the wall next to them. 

"What is it?" Mundy asked, pointing at the beer.

"A favourite of mine, Belgian." Lucien answered. 

"Right." Mundy took his glass and they both raised their own. 

"To us." Lucien said. 

"To you and me." Mundy answered before they tipped their beers and took a good swig of it. "Mh…"

"What do you think?" Lucien asked.

"Not bad, and quite light too."

"In alcohol, oui, but not in flavour." 

"You're right. I like the taste." Mundy said and they drank more of it. "I didn't know you liked beer, eh?"

"I do, sometimes. It has been years since the last one I drank, especially in such good company." He winked at his lover who blushed. "So, tell me about yourself."

"What?" Mundy asked with a chuckle. 

"This is a date, Mundy."

"Isn't it a bit late for that?" Mundy raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe." Lucien smirked. "But please, do not ruin my date with the man that I keep in my thoughts at all times. And tell me…"

"Pff…" Mundy laughed. "Alright then, what d'you wanna know?"

Lucien’s eyes shone beautifully under the yellow and warm light of the lamp. 

"Everything, obviously." 

"That's… That's quite a bit, eh?" 

"I believe so, but indulge me, please." Lucien rested his elbows on the table and his chin on his palms, his eyes were half-closed. 

"Right, so, uh… I'm… I'm Mundy, I'm a bloke and uh, I'm a hunter."

"Mh-hm." Lucien smiled. 

"I'm… Close to forty now and… I don't know what to say, eh?" He chuckled nervously.

"Tell me about your taste in beer for instance."

"Well, this one's good, but not as good as the one I usually get." Mundy answered. 

"Then, the next one is on you." Lucien answered and they both drank more. 

"Ok, whenever we're done with this one… What else d'you wanna know?"

"What is your favourite genre of music?" Lucien asked. 

"I've changed quite a bit through the years but recently…? Uh…"

"Oui, recently."

"Old French songs." Mundy looked away and lowered his eyes. "'Specially when you sing them." 

Lucien sighed with the widest smile. 

"But I understand you don't wanna sing anymore?" Mundy asked. 

"To be honest, it depends." Lucien took a sip. "I do not wish to sing like I have been in this country, as a pretext, an excuse to get close to a man that I have to kill. I don't want that anymore."

"Does that mean you'd be ok to sing again?"

"For you?" Lucien raised his eyes and tilted his head on the side. "Anytime, and any song." 

Mundy melted in a sweet smile as the rugby fans cheered. Their racket wrapped them such that no one was noticing Lucien's hand sliding to Mundy on the table. 

"Our glasses are empty, you can go and order the next round." 

"Oh, yeah, sure, gimme a minute." 

Lucien's eyes went to the television screen not far and he lazily followed the match for a moment until a perfume broke his daydreaming. 

"You are fast." Lucien said. 

"Didn't wanna go away from my date for too long, eh." 

They smiled to each other. 

"Your turn now." Mundy put the beers on the table and resumed his seat in front of Lucien. "Try this one and tell me what you think of it." 

Lucien raised his glass. 

"To you."

"To you, too." Mundy answered. 

They tipped their glasses and took a generous swig. 

"Almost bitter in the end, I like this aftertaste." Lucien said as he put his glass down. 

"Yeah, catches you by surprise, eh?" 

"Indeed!" The Frenchman said. "And very refreshing, almost fruity." 

"Yeah, I like it cause it's fruity without the sugar." Mundy answered. 

"Oh, I knew you don't like your men sweet, but I see this also applies to your beers." 

"What? You're very sweet." Mundy protested.

"Sometimes, and only with you." Lucien answered, raising his glass to his lips.

"That's not true." 

Lucien gulped down the beer and his eyebrows jumped. 

"I saw you with Pearl. Since the first day I met her. You're very soft. You just don't show it to people."

"Isn't it the same with you?"

"Heh, guess so. But go on, tell me about you now."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk…" Lucien shook his head with a smug smile.

"What?"

"This was my strategy, wild hunter, what is yours?"

"Can't I use the same?" 

"Non, where would be the fun in that?" Lucien chuckled and drank more. "Humour me." 

"Alright, I'll think of something… Hm…" 

Mundy looked at his glass of beer. The bubbles slowly raced each other to the top, through the golden and transparent beverage. He could see Lucien's distorted index tapping on the table through the glass. It looked like each tap made a group of bubbles jump to the froth of the beer. The Aussie took a swig.

"Mundy?"

"Hold on, I'm still thinkin'."

"Non, not that, look up." Mundy raised his eyes to Lucien who raised his thumb and wiped the Aussie's upper lip.

"What-?!" Mundy's pupils blew up wide.

Lucien licked his finger. 

"The foam." He answered. 

"Ooh, sorry, didn't feel anything." 

"It is fine."

And suddenly, Mundy had it. He had the idea. 

"How d'you do it?" He asked. 

"What? Wipe the beer of your lip? I would lick it directly if we were not surrounded by so many people." Lucien answered, cocking an eyebrow.

"N-no…" Mundy's thighs tensed under the table. "I meant… How d'you… How are you so… like that?" 

"Like what?" Lucien asked. 

"Well, y'know… You always know what to do to make me blush and-and I can't keep my eyes on you cause you're… You're impressive." 

Lucien tilted his head on the side. 

"I mean… You're always so… sexy." Mundy added, with a slight, nervous chuckle.

"Am I?" Lucien pushed his luck. 

"Yeah! And it looks easy, almost natural to you! I-it's insane! How d'you do it?"

The Frenchman chuckled.

"A bit of confidence and a pinch of charm." He answered. 

"Gosh… Even right now you're-!"

"Evenin', gents, you done with the beers?" A waiter interrupted them. 

"Yes, we are, thank you." Lucien answered and the man took the empty glasses away. 

"Anythin' else for the gents?" 

"Your turn, Lu', you choose." Mundy answered.

"What kind of wines do you have?" He asked. 

"Here's the list." The waiter gave Lucien a wine menu. "I'll give you a second and be right back." 

"It won't be necessary." Lucien's eyes were scanning the names of the château, the years and the locations at the speed of light. "We will have a Graves 1954, please." 

"Oh, alright. A glass or-?"

"Non, a bottle, to share." 

"Noted, I'll be back in a second." 

Lucien and Mundy nodded and the waiter disappeared. 

"I think this date is going pretty well, what do you feel?" Lucien asked.

The rugby enthusiasts cheered loudly for a few seconds again before the relative calm came back. 

"Y-yeah… I don't really know… I don't do dates." Mundy answered.

"Il y a un début à tout."

"What?"

"There is a beginning to everything. It is a French saying. But have you never been on a date before?" 

"Not really. I mean. It never felt like it."

The waiter came back with the wine and two glasses. He was about to uncork the dark green bottle when Lucien raised a hand. 

"Please."

"Oh, sure." The waiter nodded and handed him the corkscrew. 

"Non, merci, you may leave us."

"As you wish." 

The waiter went away and Mundy frowned, curious. Lucien took a blade out of his inner pocket and grabbed the bottle in his hand. 

"We normally do it with champagne and a sword, but I can do it with wine and a knife." 

"Do what?"

"This." 

Lucien swiftly slid the knife along the curve of the bottle. It caught the cork and the latter flew away. 

"What the-?!" 

The Frenchman took the bottle to his nose and sniffed gently, closing his eyes. 

"Aah…" He exhaled with a smile. He opened his eyes and poured the wine in Mundy's glass before helping himself.

"Holy dooley…" 

"Impressed?"

"Yeah! Can't you just open it normally?" 

"I could have. But I want to impress my date." Lucien answered as he raised his glass to Mundy, with a soft grin. 

"You'll have to teach me that, eh." Mundy raised his glass too. 

"With pleasure."

Their glasses met with a high-pitched sound and they both took a sip. 

"Mmh, it's a good one. Quite earthy, not too strong though." Mundy said, staring at the Burgundy liquid.

"Indeed. I have a weakness for this château."

"I can see why, eh." 

"Mundy."

"Yeah?" 

"It was produced where I come from." 

Mundy's eyebrows jumped.

"Really?"

"Oui. The private school I attended was named École des Graves, 'School of Graves'. It was named after the château because it was right next to the vineyards. From the classrooms, I remember seeing the vines lay for as far as the eye could see."

"Oh, woah… What does it look like?"

"Neatly arranged lines of green during spring. In summer, the grapes start appearing and you can see the black fruits hanging from the branches. Then, come autumn, it is the time for the vendange."

"The what?" Mundy poured more wine for him and his date.

"It is the word we use for the picking up of the grapes." Lucien drank more. 

Both of them started to feel the effect of the alcohol slowly untying their tongues, relaxing them and their mood went more cheerful.

"You have a word just for that?"

"Oui." Lucien chuckled. "It is such a big part of our culture and economy that there is a dedicated word for it."

"Right…"

"And in winter, in some regions they start serving the early wine from that same year."

"Really? Doesn't it need to stay in barrels longer?"

"It does, but it is a tradition, a bit of a festival to celebrate the new wine. It usually doesn't taste very good but the spirit is what counts." 

"Oh, I see…"

"Back in the Ministry, they would organise it too. They would have some bottles sent from the regions where this new wine is made and we would all enjoy it in the canteen for lunch." 

"Crikey… and then everyone's drunk in the afternoon, eh? What's it like being a drunk spook?" Mundy chuckled.

"Mundy, this is not how it works." Lucien joined him in his soft laughter.

"You get your fancy arse drunk and go to work, putting your balala-mask thingy upside down, wrappin' yer tie on your head like a bloody bandana! And off to save the world!"

Both burst out laughing. 

"Non, Mundy! We would not get drunk off of a glass of it!"

"Then you go around, sneakin' in yer fancy tuxedo, doin' whatever spooky business you've been sent off to do!"

Lucien couldn't stop laughing and caught his breath in short snorts. Mundy's ears pricked up and he looked at Lucien with surprised eyes. 

"Listen to your laugh, now that's something I didn't expect, eh!" He was sent off on a laughter with his lover. 

"I am sorry…!" Lucien took a handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped the corner of his eyes. "Ooh! Last time I laughed like that was a few lifetimes ago…!"

"And when was last time you got drunk with a mate like this, eh?"

"Ooh! It has been forever…! But please, your turn now, tell me about your life here, when you were younger." 

"Well… I was a quiet kid, nothin' much to say eh. Parents had a farm, chicken and geese mainly. I helped them after school."

"Did you like going to school?"

"Oh Gosh no! Hated the place!" 

The rugby fans in the pub applauded their team again. Lucien seized the opportunity to refill their glasses.

"Why?" He asked when the crowd calmed down. 

"Such a pain it was…! Stay sat, your arse on the same bloody chair for hours on end to solve fake problems…! Problems, that wouldn't help me or my parents with the chicken and geese!"

Lucien chuckled and nodded while Mundy took a swig of the wine before resuming his speech. 

"And I wasn't good at it. Kept on gettin' shit grades. Parents weren't too happy either, eh. So I dropped the whole thing as early as I could!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Was gettin' nowhere!"

"What were you the worst at?" 

"Oh, easy, languages! Maths I was decent at until they added bloody letters in the numbers. But languages I could never get. We had to take French and I couldn't understand, read or write the damn thing!"

"Well, we can arrange this, hm?" Lucien moved closer and put his elbows on the table. He held his chin on his palms.

"Ooh… Can we, now…?" Mundy cocked a playful eyebrow up. 

"I happen to be a native French speaker with a fair experience in teaching." Lucien answered seductively.

"Alright, sounds promisin'. But what d'you suggest, eh?"

"Perhaps some… private lessons?" Lucien let his eyes do their magic and Mundy chuckled.

"Think you can teach me?" He asked. "I'm a tough student. I don't listen, I daydream too much, and I hate to sit still and listen to a teacher blabber endlessly."

"I have my ways…" Lucien moved his foot below the table and brushed his leg against Mundy's.

"Mh… Yeah… I see…" Mundy reciprocated. He took one of Lucien's legs between his own and cuddled it while looking deep in the eyes of the man that made him feel light, so light.

"What about it, then, hm?" Lucien asked. "Do we have a deal?"

"Hold on, Professor Sexy…" Lucien's eyebrows jumped. So this was what Mundy was like when he was drunk, hm? 

"Oui?"

"What about payment?"

They drank more of their wine and shared whatever was left of it. They were both past tipsy now. 

"Well, as you might guess from my age, my experience is unquestionable in the field, thus raising my fees quite high." Lucien removed his gloves and slid his fingers through Mundy's on the table. 

"Uh-huh, right, how much are we talkin'?"

"Too much for you, wild hunter." Lucien smirked. He lit a cigarette and put it between his lips. 

"Oh-ho… But what if," Mundy stole the cigarette off of his lover's very lips and puffed on it himself. "What if I don't pay you with money, hm…?"

"Pray elaborate, I am not sure I follow you." Lucien wiggled his eyebrows through his lie. Mundy's eyelids fell half-way through his eyes and he bit his lower lip. 

"How the hell d'you manage to be so bloody sexy…?" Mundy growled with his low, gravelly voice. 

Lucien flashed his pearly white teeth between his thin lips and stole the cigarette back for himself. He chuckled as he smoked and blew the smoke out in a ring that slowly wreathed, and grew to caress the Aussie's face. It punched his guts warmly. 

"Gosh, Lu'..." Mundy clenched his fingers on his lover's. "I don't know if it's you or the wine… Can't see straight anymore… Can't see anythin' else but you… I-I…"

Lucien watched his lover melt and his pupils blow wide with a smirk. It was awfully selfish and arrogant of him but he loved seeing that particular instant in front of him. The moment when his lover cracks, melts by the sheer force of his charms. He cocked an eyebrow up and smoked more. 

"If we were alone…" Mundy started but couldn't finish his sentence.

"What would you do, if we were alone?" Lucien blew the smoke away. 

"I… Can't tell you, not here, not now." 

Lucien's smug smile widened and he chuckled.

"Mh… You tickled my curiosity."

Mundy took a deep breath and his lungs filled with the bitter smoke that Lucien had exhaled a second ago. 

"Gosh, and yer cigs…"

"They are menthols. You like them?"

"Yeah…"

Lucien took a long drag and held Mundy's chin on his four fingers. His thumb went to Mundy's lower lip and pulled it down slowly. The Aussie's entire lower jaw loosened up under the thin thumb and his lips parted. Lucien blew the smoke straight between his lover's lips and watched him roll his eyes up in bliss before his eyelids fell completely. The Frenchman smirked. Oh he wished! He wished he could immortalise Mundy's roll of his eyes, his jaw lowering slowly, and the waves of smoke that the Frenchman created slowly filling his lungs, like the waves of love sent straight to his heart. He held Mundy's chin and watched his head roll back slightly, his grip on reality and consciousness slowly fading, abandoning himself and his body entirely to Lucien. 

The Frenchman's thumb slowly and softly traced Mundy's bottom lip, from left to right. His eyes followed his own thumb on the thin lip that glistened in gold under the yellow light of the lamp above them.

"Oh-?" Lucien's eyebrows jumped. 

Suddenly, Mundy had bitten his thumb and was smirking. He wiggled his eyebrows and Lucien's heart burst in his ribcage.

"Let's go home, luv', need you to deal with me now."

[ambrosiadreamer]

Nate,,, may I ask for 👉👈 character associations with bim trimmer, author and host?

bim:

-fruit

next, the auth-

jk dkhdkdhdks

i’m literally just going to be infodumping abt my headcanons for bim here because i love him i love him a lot skdbkdbsksbsksbsks help

JUST FINISHED WRITING THIS AND I’D LIKE TO MAKE A CORRECTION: ALL OF IT is just infodumping. i am apparently unable to just say associations is headcanons or nothin in this dumb little brain of mine. i am so sorry

bim is gay. limpest wrist in the west. obnoxious cis gay type gay. absolutely drama queen. sings “girls just want to have fun” in the mirror with a hairbrush. disturbingly outgoing. horrible perfectionist. suit always has to be dry cleaned and have absolutely no wrinkles before putting it on. no hair must be out of place. his teeth are perfect. like, weirdly perfect. if anything is wrong on set he freaks out. horrible, HORRIBLE perfectionist. his mood is everywhere. his highs are high and is lows are low (🤝). should probably go on a mood stabilizer. (am i saying he has bipolar? perhaps. i can project, as a treat 😌) (also he has ocd, because i say so). he’s a fantastic speaker and is able to captivate his audiences seemingly effortlessly. random, but his fave color is a nice royal blue. also, man’s a cannibal! can’t forget that! he always keeps a handkerchief on hand to wipe blood off him after eating or whatever. also, he may be a cannibal but he still has class. he eats with a fork and knife just like you and i. he’s kinda skeezy with his contracts. a lot of people don’t realize what exactly the waiver they’re signing for is (bc. y’know. you lose the game show you get eaten) but it’s technically still legal. he’s not afraid to get his hands dirty, if need be. there’s probably more but it’s not coming to mind but uhhhhhhhhhh yeah. i’m so, so, SO sorry for the ramble i just really like him

tbh i don’t really know a lot abt the author the the host! from what i know author eventually kinda becomes the host? author i think tries to keep it together but gets easily frustrated and lashes out. ummmmm also bat. yeah the bat. i think abt the bat scene a lot. i feel like host is kinda a bitter “old” man. he was robbed of his eyesight for whatever reason and is still (understandably) upset. he spends most of his time (alone) in his broadcasting station. he also lives there. also i like to think he has a guide dog. i know he’s able to narrate stuff and knows where things are but the extra help and the companionship is nice too. his fruity little trench coat is just because he gets cold easy and he thinks they’re cool LOL. also i very much associate him with the color gold because of mark’s fucking. gold paint. in his hair in markiplier tv. mark if you ever read this somehow i’m literally biting you and shaking you around like a dog does one of those rope toys

[irwingiggling]

friends of friends. | pt. 1

A/N: Sooo guess who’s back with a new fic?! Please let me know what you guys think, and if you want me to continue this - I have lots of ideas for it! If you enjoyed it, please give it a like so I know people are interested in reading more :) The band does exist in this fic, but it’s more of a casual thing and none of the boys are famous. In this fic I tried to really focus on the characterization and in improving my writing, so yeah this is my little passion project rn while I’m in quarantine. [Also a little shoutout to @cakesunflower​, I don’t know her at all but her fics (wglylm, quiet hours, etc.) and her writing is honestly incredible and she was one of the many awesome writers on here who inspired me to start this. :)]

Word Count: 2,100+

Rating: PG-13 (mentions of alcohol, swearing)

---

"Who's Calum?" Audrey was perched over a tall wooden stool, hands around a mug of steaming hot coffee. Her short brown hair landed just above her shoulders, cascading perilously towards her coffee as she stared down her friend, a sly smile on her face.

"Just a friend of a friend," Rose replied with a shrug.

Audrey's eyebrows arched in response, unsatisfied with Rose's answer.

"No seriously. I barely know him, I met him the other day at some get together Nina dragged me to."

At mention of the other girl, a smile crept onto Audrey's face. "Damn, Nina. How's she doing?" The three were close friends back in university, sharing a dorm for two years. But after school, they'd all started to go their separate ways. Nina was in public relations. A true socialite, she loved meeting new people, and could keep up conversation for hours. Since landing her new job as an assistant for some small music company, she'd managed to drag Rose along to various parties and social gatherings with increasing frequency. The two lived on opposite sides of town in Boston, but remained decently close despite this. On the other hand, Audrey had moved back home to Michigan after school, and the two didn't see her very often at all.

"She's good. Still a true extrovert." Rose said with a gentle shake of her head.

"Gotta love that girl. She was always a go-getter." Audrey laughed, taking a sip of the creamy drink.

In contrast to Nina, Rose would describe herself as a simple person. She had her little apartment, her work, a well-stocked supply of coffee, and her dog, Olive - who she'd somehow managed to sneak under her apartment's 60lb weight limit. Everything else was extra, but as long as she had those few essentials, she was perfectly content. Though as a recent university grad who was still working part-time at a coffee shop, and taking whatever freelance work she could on the side, she didn't have a lot of room for extravagances anyway. In contrast, Audrey found a job as a radio broadcaster back home right out of school, and could now afford to make the flight down to see her girls.

"Anyways don’t try and change the subject, you haven't had a man in your life in ages!" Audrey exclaimed, teasingly poking a finger against the arm of Rose's blue sweater.

Rose gave her head a faint shake, smiling gently. She had no doubt Nina had already recounted the entire work gathering to Audrey over one of her long-winded FaceTime calls. Nina had a way of getting carried away with the stories she told, which likely meant their distant observation of Calum had morphed into a much closer brush than it actually was.

----

She vaguely remembered him from that last work event. He was easily recognizable by his dark curly hair, tanned skin, and youthful appearance, especially since the vast majority of others mingling looked to be in their late 30s. Rose caught drifts of conversations about sales and pitches and various public relations-related stuff. She had caught him looking over at her during one of the speeches. When she met his gaze he'd turned away.

"Who's that?" she asked, tugging lightly on Nina's arm. Nina was in the middle of rambling about some publication technique to boost online views.

"Oh, him? That's Calum. He's a member of one of the newer bands the company's signed. Seems decent, haven't really had a chance to chat with him yet."

Calum.

She never got the guts to go over and talk to him that night, even though he looked like one of the only people who was actually having a decent time, chatting animatedly with an equally tall guy around his age, drink in hand. Instead, she stayed by Nina's side, letting her talkative friend fill the silence and introduce her to many people whose names she would inevitably forget.

---

It was two weeks later, and Nina had caught Rose off guard yet again, getting her to agree to another one of her work parties before Rose even really knew what she was saying yes to. The term ‘party’ was an exaggeration, to say the least. Only the watered-down drinks and the 70s hits playing at a whisper in the background gave the faintest suggestion that this was a party. Rather, it was a way for people at Nina’s company to schmooze with those from other nearby labels and PR companies, collaborating on techniques, getting insider information on new signings and album releases. And Nina was so thrilled at the prospect of sharing her knowledge and making new friends, that Rose felt obligated to say yes. However, not knowing a thing about the music industry or public relations made it difficult to relate to any of the conversations, so she often found herself glued to Nina’s side, maintaining an appropriate amount of nods and smiles to the people Nina talked to, waiting for the agonizingly slow clock to tick down. She sharply reminded herself to not give in to Nina’s pleas again, that this would be the last time she would let her Friday nights turn out like this.

Letting her thoughts wander, she remembered catching a vague glimpse of the dark-haired man earlier on in the night, but she hadn't seen him at all in the past half-hour, and figured he'd gone home. She wished she could leave too, but sadly Nina was her ride, which meant she'd be here for a while longer. By this time Rose was frankly sick of Nina's incessant chatter, and with feigning enjoyment in meeting random people she truly had no interest in.

She politely excused herself from the conversation, and made her way towards the kitchen, in the hopes she could scrounge up another drink to get her through the night. Taking a look around the kitchen, she let out a small sigh when she didn't see any alcohol. However, her eyes landed on the same curly-haired man from earlier. So this was where he'd been hiding out. His cheeks flushed a vague tinge of pink at seeing he'd been discovered, but he let out a relieved breath when he saw that it was her. One of the only other people here around his age, who didn't seem like she'd want to chatter endlessly about the management side of music.

"Hey, I remember you." He stood facing her, a gentle smile on his face. "Calum," he introduced, taking a hand out of his pocket and extending it towards her.

"Rose," she replied, lips curving into a smile as she shook his hand, his larger one temporarily enveloping hers.

"Nice to meet you," he nodded. "Do you work here?" He was sure if he'd seen her before that he would have remembered.

"No, I'm actually a struggling arts major," she confessed with a small chuckle. "My friend dragged me here. Nina."

"Oh," Calum nodded, eyes flashing lightly in recognition of a name he couldn't quite place. "The really… social one?" He asked hesitantly towards the end, unsure exactly how to phrase it.

"Yeah, you can’t miss her,” Rose said, giving her head a small shake in amusement. She felt a sense of relief as Calum's light chuckle flooded her ears.

"So I'm kind of hiding out here right now," he began, looking past her for a second to the crowd of people mingling past the doorway, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as he confirmed none of the guests were interested in pulling him into another conversation.

She chuckled lightly, moving to place her empty glass near the sink. "Do you come to these kinds of things often?"

"Not really," he shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "But the label wanted me to make an appearance. Somehow I keep drawing the short end of the stick this month for that kind of stuff."

She laughed, glad she didn't have to pretend this was an enjoyable party.

"It's kinda.. stuffy?" he added, nose scrunching at the word.

She nodded in complete understanding. "Yeah. A lot of middle-aged record and publication people. Not exactly my crowd either."

"Tell me about it," Calum sighed, taking a long sip of his fruity drink. "And this was all I could find," he added half-heartedly, raising the glass.

She chuckled, trying to muffle her amusement at the strange drink that didn't seem to quite fit with his look. The vividly coloured mini umbrella and bright purple liquid contrasted sharply with the metal rings that adorned his tanned fingers and the tattoos peeking out from his shirt collar.

Noting her amusement with his drink of choice, his eyes began to light up, and he chuckled along with her.

"I figured," she said, fighting to contain her smile. This only served to make him more amused, a full-blown laugh bubbling out from his full, pink lips. His laugh seemed too pure, too alive for this subdued party.

They stood in silence for a couple beats, letting the low buzz from the various people in the room flood their ears again, before Calum drained the rest of his drink in a gulp. "Did you wanna get out of here?" He asked, setting his empty glass down on the counter beside hers, gesturing vaguely to the direction of the front door.

"Oh!" She wasn't able to mask her surprise, eyebrows rising and a faintly amused but apologetic look on her face. "Wow, um… I think you're great, I really do, but that's just not quite something that I'm-"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at her response. He tilted his head slightly to one side, lips parted, as he tried to figure her out. Eventually his lips curved into a smile and a gentle laugh erupted from his mouth as he realized where she was going with this. "Shit, I meant food. My bad."

And then she was blushing profusely, wanting to melt into the floor in embarrassment because how could she fuck that up? She sighed, letting out a small whine of contempt, and when she finally got the courage to look back up at him, he was watching her, eyes sparkling. He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, trying half-heartedly to contain the smile that still graced his face at her expense.

"Yeah, ok." She nodded, letting out a small chuckle. "I can do food."

---

She didn't quite know how she ended up at the fast-food place at 10pm, seated in a tiny booth across from Calum, watching the curly-haired man munching happily away on fries, their knees occasionally knocking against each other.

When he looked at her it was as if he was looking into her. His dark curls cascaded over his forehead, a hint of stubble on his jaw. His eyes were soft and dark brown. They crinkled around the edges when he laughed and they felt like home. It was weird for her, to feel that way with a stranger. But in many ways Calum felt more like an old friend. Like someone she'd known all her life and was just reconnecting with. At this point in the night he was beginning to look tired and sleepy, but just when she thought he was losing interest, his eyes would light up at a funny comment, and it would bring her in closer, creating the most comfortable, at ease feeling deep in her stomach. That night she learned Calum had a wicked dry sense of humour, and that his warm laugh sounded like honey.

They were there for over an hour, long after the remnants of their burgers had gone cold. Only the buzzing of the neon sign in the front window, and the quiet shuffling of the lone staff member were background noise to their conversation.

Eventually they decided to part ways, both tired and content from the night. They put their empty trays in the garbage, and left. Outside they stood only a few steps apart, trying to use each other's bodies to evade the cold wind blowing through the empty parking lot. It was already April in Boston, but some nights still felt like winter.

"Alright," he said, tugging the hood of his jacket over his head so only a few curls poked out. "Get home safe, ok?"

"I will. You too, Calum."

She turned to leave, but his fingertips brushed across the fabric of her jacket. She looked up, the movement garnering her attention. His tongue darted across his bottom lip, brown eyes searching her own.

"We're doing a little show at The Reign next Saturday night. You should come, if you want."

"Yeah I'd love to. I'll be there."

And then he was smiling, hands buried in his pockets. She took a step back and gave him a wave, which he returned, watching her for a few moments before turning in the direction of his own apartment.

[froginvader]

🍓 🥝?

FRUITY HCS ! || Accepting

@twinsmily

🍓  :    how is my muse typically seen by others?  does it ring true to who they really are?  does their reputation matter to them?

    Good sir, this is a can of worms that is very interesting to discuss.

    Anyone outside of his platoon, family or friend circle knows this frog is a complete J O K E. He’s a clown, mailing it in 95% of the time when it comes to the invasion. There are plenty of reasons for that but the jist of it is that he has a burnout on being an invader. Everyone in that close radar knows this platoon leader just isn’t up for the challenge ( unless something pisses him off enough to actually go for it. None of it ever works ).

    People who only know him from the sidelines or passing conversation know him for his “Back Then” self. That, being gestured to the yellow star on his belly. He’s very popular back on his planet, even as a child, everyone liked him or at the very least knew who he was. Those times he was full of spunk to low sweep any planet off it’s feet for the sake of keron. Keroro ended up on a lot of news, posters and now even has his own TV show that broadcasts his invasion to the citizens on keron. Er....Though exaggerates the truth A LOT. A LOT A LOT.

    Everyone sees him as a very heroic keronion back on his planet. Everything described about him is from the influence of the star.  .   .or as shown in the Kero Zero episodes, just pure luck that he saved the day. Like any celebrity ; the more you know them personally, the more they become a disappointment. That’s why they say “Don’t meet your heroes.”

    Tamama can testify for this.

🥝  :    does my muse have any  ‘  unusual  ’  habits, interests,  and  /  or talents?  do they hide it,  or are they proud of it?  

    Well, being an alien on a foreign planet, anything he does is unusual. 

    He has a habit of saying “gero” ( Japanese sound for a frog ribbiting ) or “de arimasu” ( yessir ) as his verbal tic. The geros being his stim word whilst the other one he just picked up from military practice. Those are the most notable things he has if someone is to ever ask about his way of speech.

    He indulges in building Gunpla too. Other than Saburo, everyone in the series has no interest with Kero messing with them. Often times its really annoying watching that hobby get in the way. More so how he blows all the platoon’s invasion funds to buy them. Credit where credit is due though, he’s very good and fast at building these lil suckers. Very informative too.

    And besides his crazy good skills in sports, he actually knows how to play the piano! He doesn’t talk about it much. I think this is kept secret since he only uses it whenever feeling venerable with his emotions. Taking away his comfort would D E S T O R Y him. I wouldn’t call this an “unusual” talent, but it might be out of place to ever witness him using it. 

   Uh.   .   .apparently he can spin 3 pencils at once on his fingers and foot??? Thats neat.