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malarkgirlypop · 1 year ago

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BoB dance moves while drunk

inspired by that one post of how they would act when drunk from @contrabandhothead

Dick Winters:

Is a sucker for a slow dance, tries to wrangle anyone onto the dance floor with him but mostly Nix who doesn't like slow dancing. Is very huggy and will whisper unintelligible things in your ear while dancing. Will give you that very drunk I love you smile when he pulls away.

Lewis Nixon:

Does not dance, will not dance. But can sometimes be convinced by Dick if he is drunk enough. Rather would sing loudly while sitting down.

Ronald Speirs:

When very intoxicated will boogie, he is the one who will just stand in the middle of the dance floor and jump up and down. While trying to sing the song but he doesn't know the lyrics so he drunkenly sings nonsense at you. Goes from one group to the next. If dancing in a circle he will jump in the middle and bust a move before disappearing. Lip will sometimes have to wrangle him away from people cause he is interfering with their night.

Carwood Lipton:

Is a shy dancer will tap his foot and bob his head to the beat, but spends most of the night trying to contain the very excitable Ron, who is a loose unit on the floor if not supervised. Is always excusing himself to go and get Ron.

Harry Welsh:

Is too drunk to stand, but he can party lying down! Wants to dance with Kitty but can't find her. Would probably pull out moves such as the sprinkler and pushing the trolley.

George Luz:

Does the most bizarre moves you have ever seen. Has his own style called the George. Will spin you round and then need to sit down immediately cause he is going to throw up. Back out onto the floor once he has recovered, him and Ron together are a fucking nightmare, as they harasses innocent bystanders to dance with them. Will high-five you if you get too close, but does the fakeout of "High-five, dolphin dive."

Joe Toye:

Is the best dancer when drunk, like professionally good, but will only dance if very inebriated. Likes to people watch and laugh at the chaos that is George. Will lean and drink and shoo Luz away when he asks him to go and dance. Saying "I will when I finish this drink." But then orders another one so that he can use the same line.

Bill Guarnere:

Dance fights! "you want a piece of me?" then does very complicated footwork. Light on his feet. Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Aggressive dance moves when drunk, will shake you with force if he gets a hold of you. Sings loudly as he dances. Always has the best night.

Joe Liebgott:

Crumps aggressively, somehow is very good a twerking. Knows how to pop that puss. Does that dance move when you hold your leg up and then have the other hand on your head and jump around (idk how to explain this move, but I see it in my head). Will try and incite a dance battle. Always the centre of attention. Likes it that way.

David Webster:

Dances like a basic white girl. Feeling himself up. Is a very weirdly sensual dancer. Kinda gets him going. Will say this is my favourite song to every basic pop song that comes on. Still doesn't know the words though.

Buck Compton:

Will aggressively do the hoe down throw down and somehow has whole choreographed dances to the songs. You will never see him do the same move twice. By the end of the night he has taken off all of his clothes and is drenched in sweat.

Eugene Roe:

Is a modest dancer. Will just nod along while lip-sinking. Will have a confused face on but when people ask him if he is ok just grins at them nodding. Is always looking for Babe.

Babe Heffron:

Manages to integrate himself into a group of people he isn't with for the night, teaches them his signature move that is the dougie. Will pester the person playing the music for the song that goes with the dance so that he can do it all for them. Normally gets his way and does the whole dougie in the middle of the dance circle while people cheer him on. He eats it up every time and brags about it later.

Skip Muck:

Does classic dance moves with Alex. Likes to dance with another person so he has a buddy to shimmey into and then shimmey back. Will do spins with Alex and always does it way too aggressively and sends Alex flying across the floor to crash into people like a bowling ball.

Alex Penkala:

The most clumsy dancer when drunk. Will fall over nothing, Skip does not help either, somehow always managing to push over his friend by accident. Alex is like a fucking bouncy ball and is up on his feet in seconds. Will wake up the next day covered in bruises and is unsure of how he got them.

Donald Malarkey:

Gains the confidence of a professional dancer and believes it, but is totally not. Will totally do that thing where you move your chest up and down and get people to move their hands over him to make it look cool. Likes the song get low, as he likes the part where it goes low, low, low, low so he can do his matrix back bend. Get's worse the more he gets drunk.

Frank Perconte:

Is a fucking B-boy and will break it down, somehow can do head stands and that thing where you spin around on your head, and that one move where you are lying on the ground and push yourself to your feet.

Johnny Martin:

Is a fucking wild card. Some nights he will chill and then others he is breaking it down on the dance floor. It mostly depends on the liquor he is drinking, if it's spirits you're in for a crazy night.

Bull Randleman:

Will line dance to any song, you can't tell him other wise. Does that lasso move to Perconte and lasso's him onto the dance floor, Frank loves it. Will do Gangnam style if drunk enough and will tell you every time his favourite part is the move where you look like you are riding a horse.

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trashbag-baby666 · 6 months ago

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Fake Dates-Luztoye

Summary: Joe enlists George in helping him get back at his ex. (For @disastrouscanasta <3)

WC: 4,816

C/W: Joe’s poor self image

BofB Masterlist | ao3 link

The hiss of the busch light can filled the kitchen, Joe taking a step back from the open fridge resting his arm on the door. In one swift movement he chugged the entire letting out a horrid belch and crunched the can. Normally, the others would expect this behavior from Babe, but today it would be him. Earning him the gawks of his roommates from the couch.

“Want one, Heffron?” Joe pointed towards the inside of the fridge, hoping his friends wouldn’t judge his out of character performance.

“Uh, sure, Bucky you want one?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take one. But I want a Spotted Cow, because I know what a good beer tastes like.” John’s hand went to his chest, he declared himself the unofficial king of beer when they all met freshman year of college. He had some superiority complex about alcohol because he was from Wisconsin. Joe didn’t get it either but they all just nodded and said alright Bucky.

He wasn’t wrong though, about the Spotted Cow at least. Whenever John would go home he’d fill his car with cases of it to bring back to Philly; However, they all learned fast that he was stingy when it came to sharing it.

“Are you joining us for the next game?” Bucky traded him his controller for the beer bottle. He sat down with a loud sigh, contemplating if he would join their fortnite tournament. He ideally kinda wanted to sulk in his room since he found out about Emily and Miguel.

“I don’t know? I was gonna go back to my room.”

“Why!” Babe threw up his hands.

“I’m just not really feeling up to it, I don't know?” He brought the can of beer back up to his lips, maybe he did kinda wanna talk about it. No more pent up emotions.

Joe repeated in his head.

“Are you sad about Voldemort?” John read his mind, his eyes locked back on the tv as John joined a lobby on Fortnite.

Well, he was stuck now. He’d just play a couple games with him and return back to his bedroom sulking.

“What did she do now?”

“You know my cousin, Miguel?” Joe haphazardly reached down and pulled his shorts up a bit. Skillfully, with one hand taking his prosthetic off, he had years of practice now and could do it in his sleep or piss drunk and throwing up at the same time.

“Oh shit,” Babe sucked in a breath side eyeing at him, “She…”

“They’re together, yeah.” He grunted, he knew he should be over her or moved on or whatever, it had been a month. Obviously, she had moved on and so did he, “Wanna know the best part?”

“What?” The two perked up looking away from the TV as the game started.

“I found out from Abuella.” He retrieved his beer off the coffee table and took another long sip feeling the bitter liquid flowing down his throat.

“Shit! No fuckin’ way!” John slapped his arm, his jaw falling to the floor.

“Yeah, Miguel called asking her if he could bring his new girlfriend to the family dinner next week.”

“I’m sorry, Joe, we should slash their tires the night of so they can’t go.”

“Holy, shit Heffron.” John turned back looking at the redhead as if this wasn’t just normal Babe suggestions.

“What, I’m just sayin’, I can get Bill to do it?”

“It’s fine, all my tia’s will be whispering about her.” He sighed, knowing the night would be filled with plenty of awkwardness. He and Emily had been together for almost a full year, his family met and knew her. They also knew that they had broken up…

“I mean, what if you just took some fake date to dinner? Make her jealous, make her come back to you.” John suggested with a shrug of his shoulders his eyes back locked into Fortnite.

“I do not want her back in my life, I’m just still sulking, you know?”

“No, not really. Bucks the only person I’ve been in love with.”

“You’re lying, Bucky you’re about the most certified lover boy we know.”

“Guys I wasn’t this good looking in high school. I was gangly and had braces and I didn't discover deodorant till I was like 15.” He rambled on.

“I don’t know if anyone said you were good looking,” Babe chuckled and knocked his knee into Johns.

“Or discovered deodorant.” Joe knocked his other knee in return to him squashed between the two on the well loved leather couch. But over no couch, this was perfect. Joe’s abuela had gifted it to them when they moved into the apartment. It had spent most of its life covered in plastic, now it was constantly covered by drunk college boys and their boyfriends.

“I do too use deodorant!”

“And five in one soap?”

“Babe also uses the same fuckin’ soap, if it gets the job done. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it.”

“Yeah except you probably shouldn't wash your face, body, and hair all with the same shit.” Joe felt his spirits being lifted between the fortnite battle and their making fun of John.

The time passed and the more beers that were consumed the more that John began to think John was right. Maybe for the second time in his life.

“Have you guys ever really done something stupid to save face?”

“Is that rhetorical?” John's eyes never leave the tv screen.

“Like the time Bucky sang to Gale in the middle of the dining hall freshman year?”

“Maybe even stupider…?”

“I didn’t think that was stupid!” John swatted at the red head next to him, “now what’s your idea, Toye?”

“What if I ask George to be my fake boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but doesn’t your family know him?”

“Yeah, but I can just tell them we worked out better as friends at the next gathering.”

—-----------

Joe wrapped his knuckles against the door, the familiar sound of the extra tap of his rings sounding too. He stepped back and balled up his fists feeling the dampening, sweaty anxiety all over his palms.

“Joe?” George furrowed his eyebrows, the boy's hair disheveled and sticking out in different directions. He had on his University of Philly sweatshirt and some gray sweatpants, clearly either studying or playing video games.

“Hey.”

“You know it’s weird to show up at people's places without calling first.” George pulled Joe into the apartment looking him over once to make sure he was okay.

“Sorry, I didn’t even think to, I uh.” Joe rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. Not even knowing how to begin this question, he took an awkward off balance step back towards the door.

“Okay, well I need to study so what is it?” George grabbed his calico cat mug off the table and took a long drink of the luke–warm coffee.

“Okay, just hear me out…I know this is going to sound weird, you can say no. But will you be my pretend boyfriend…”

George let out a loud cackling laugh with a snort he threw his head back and set the mug on the ledge of the counter. He clapped his hands a few times and folded over putting his hands on his knees. “What the fuck, Joe?”

“I’m serious!” Joe put his hands up in defense already wanting to kick himself in the face again for even having this idea.

“Why? Did Babe already say no?”

“The hell would I ask Heffron for? No. Miguel is dating Emily.”

“Oh,” George pursed his lips looking at Joe.

“Yeah,” he rubbed the back of his neck again, turning his eyes upwards, observing the cracked, white paint on the ceiling.

“I’ll be your fake boyfriend,” George smiled and nodded, his overgrown brown hair flopping into his eyes, “On one condition…”

“What?”

“I wanna go on some fake dates, we’ll need to practice if you want them to believe us.” George winked.

“Fine.”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.” The two shook hands like it was some business deal that was highly official. The thought of it began to make Joe a little nervous, his stomach flipping a bit just from shaking his hand. He wanted to think this was a good idea, but he already began to question himself.

—----------

George held both the Long island iced tea and Joe’s beer in his hands, leading Joe over to where the rest of their friends sat in a corner booth. They could already see John puckering his lips at Gale, he was probably a few shots ahead of everyone else. Watching in disapproval, Gene sat next to Babe. The redhead plays with Gene’s fingers, plucking them against the table.

“Hey guys!” George buzzed in excitement, setting the two drinks down on the table with a thump, letting John slide into the booth first, “Would’ve been here on time but this one couldn’t keep it down.”

Joe’s eyes went wide and he bumped his knee against Georges. Gale pursed his lips and silently grabbed for his cup of diet Coke.

“Did we miss-” Gene went to speak and Gale put his hand up silencing him.

“I don’t wanna know.” Gale shook his head, setting down the cup.

“You guys are such prunes!” George gave the group a thumbs down, “We’re not actually dating.”

“Oh even better, just hooking up?” Gale narrowed his eyes at the pair looking to John for confirmation that he was indeed correct.

“Joe could only wish.” George took the cup in his hand, sipping from the long straw in the tall glass and giving it a spin.

“We’re practicing fake dating.” Joe cleared his throat.

“Since when is practice fake dating a thing?” Babe cocked his eyebrow eyeing between the two, George wearing a shit eating grin.

“I just wanted to get drinks,” George shrugged, “Thanks babe.” He pressed his lips to the taller man's cheek and ruffled his dark brown hair

“I’m gonna get another shot.” John picked up his empty glass off the table sliding out of the booth.

“So, do you wanna explain to me why you guys are practicing fake dating…? It sounds like an oxymoron, I can’t even wrap my brain around that.” Gale leaned forward using air quotes.

“My cousin is dating the wicked witch.” Joe reached for his beer, taking half of it down in one swig, “Bucky, get me a shot!”

“That’s half an answer,” the blonde tilted his head to keep an eye on John as he stood at the bar.

“Abuelas having family dinner next week and I don’t wanna show up looking like a sorry schmuck showing up alone.”

“So, he asked me to play the missus.” George smiled proudly, wrapping his arms around Joe's large bicep and leaning into him.

Later on, Gale, Gene, and Joe were left at the table as the other three were onto their drunk dancing part of the night. John was dancing like an absolute menace, getting too into the music. Well, they were playing "Telephone" by Lady Gaga in a gay bar. They were regulars too, so John’s intense foot-switching and arm-reaching jerky dance moves were expected. George next to John followed his normal air-pointing and snapping as he brought his hand down. Babe stood a little further from them and continued his poor attempts at twerking.

“Quite the dancer you got there Gene.” Joe leaned back into the booth, the alcohol coursing through his veins and warming up his body. At least his face didn’t turn red the way Babe and Georges seemed to when they drank.

“Yeah he’s been spending a lot of time practicing.” Gene smiled around his swig of beer. No matter how embarrassing Babe acted Gene would always be impossibly whipped for him.

“So, what’s this really about, Joe?” Gale sat forward resting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand. John deflected his movements trying to sit himself further back and evaporate into the worn leather, letting out a deflated sigh.

“What do you mean?” Joe shrugged his shoulders.

“You know exactly what I mean. This whole fake dating thing. There’s more to it than just not wanting to look a certain way in front of your family. Come on, spill.”

Joe stared down into his lukewarm beer. He felt like this was some walk of shame for him, “ I don’t think it’s just about Emily…I mean, yeah, seeing her with my cousin sucks, but it’s more than that…”

“More, how?” Gene’s voice barely audible over the music.

Joe tried to collect together his thoughts, “I’ve been feeling… lost. Ever since we broke up, I’ve been questioning everything. My self-worth, my future. It’s like I don’t even know who I am without her. And when I found out she’s dating Miguel, it just felt like… like the universe was telling me I’m not good enough.”

It’s Gales turn to sigh now, the blonde sitting back against the backrest now. He knew that Joe had always had some skewed self conscious look at himself. George asked Gale plenty on how he could help his best friend. Gale's psychology major did occasionally come into help. “You can’t think like that, you’re an amazing guy.”

Joe shook his head, “It’s not just that, but being around George always has made me feel…I don’t know? Wanted?” He shrugged his shoulders, swirling around the remainder of his beer in the cup and then downed the rest of it.

“So, it’s a validation thing?” Gene furrowed his dark brows on his pale face. The kitten-like face of Gene really pulled out.

“I mean…kinda? I think I'm scared. Scared to be alone. Scared to face the future without someone by my side. And George... he's always been there for me. Maybe it's selfish, but I need him right now.” Joe began tapping his fingers against the table. George had been there for Joe since they were 12, maybe even pursuing him romantically was a bad idea to begin with.

“I think you need to have a conversation with George…”

“I know, I will…okay.” Joe put his hands up in defense like he was arguing with his Abuela.

“Do it sooner than later, doing these ‘fake dates’ are just going to further confuse the both of you. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt because of it.” Gene rested his hand on the larger man's shoulder squeezing it supportively.

—-----------

The following day Joe sat on George's couch in his and Gale's apartment. George sat down next to him and stretched his hands up arching his back, George seemed so cat-like to Joe sometimes.

Not even in a sophisticated cat manner, in an orange, Garfield esc cat manor.

“What do you wanna do? I don’t really wanna go out but if you want to?” George shrugged and grabbed a stack of pizza place coupons out from the drawer on the coffee table.

“I’m okay with staying in, but Buck and Bucky aren’t going to come back and–”

“And loudly, hump each other? No, Buck told me he and Bucky were just going to get dinner and go back to your place.”

“Wonderful, so I can listen to them fuck while I’m tryna’ sleep.” Joe rolled his eyes sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Lucky you!” George poked his side jokingly, "Do you want pizza?”

“Yeah,” Joe sat forward grabbing the coupon stack looking for the best deal on the most pizza, “Video games or movie?”

“Or Game of Thrones?”

“No.” Joe pulled the Domino’s flier out and found an alright coupon. Although, his stomach was beginning to ache thinking about the previous night's events. It just felt like getting nailed further and further into a commitment coffin.

“You’re a hater,” George blew a raspberry at him and ripped the coupon out of the flier and reached for his phone.

The two sat in silence for a moment after the pizza had been ordered. Joe couldn’t get his brain right out of thinking about his feelings. He felt his mood beginning to be soured from the thoughts and his mind drifting off to Emily, the entire reason he’s having this crisis.

“Okay, so video games or a movie?” George asked Joe, grabbing the remote off the coffee table.

“You pick,” Joe shrugged, he really didn’t care, he just didn’t want to have to face the rumbling feelings of complicated and blushy in his stomach. He shook his head and ran a hand over his face, “I’m gonna go take a leak, why don’t you surprise me?”

“Alright then, Mister.”

Joe’s heavy footsteps carried him to the small bathroom, he shut the door behind him. Bending over the sink, he turned on the faucet and splashed his face with some water. Maybe he should just tell George now and put this whole fake dating thing to an end? The more he thought about it the more ridiculous it sounded but his memories started to drift to a happier time with Emily.

“Fuck,” Joe slapped at both of his cheeks. Maybe he was just using George? Maybe that's what all of this is about?

—---------

A few days later Joe agreed to go on a ‘not date just strictly school stuff’ date with George to the museum. George had an art history essay due and he needed to go study some paintings. Joe didn’t really get it, he didn’t really like going to art museums. He thought they were dull and boring but he went to see George.

Joe held open the door for George as they walked into the building, the space is a big open white painted area. A giant overlooking view of the Delaware River laid straight ahead over a balcony. The large windows going all the way to the floor below, the place was beautiful. Joe grew up here his whole life and probably had only been here once before for a school field trip when they were younger.

The pair purchased their tickets, George flashing his student id for a discount. They walked in silence down the vast hallways and open areas of paintings and sculptures. George clutched a small notebook to his chest to take his needed notes.

He felt drastically out of place in the place, there was a stiff and crisp way to the air that reminded him of his hospital stay. He could feel judging eyes upon him too from the other visitors of the place.

Joe guessed he didn’t get the art museum dress code. He sported his carhartt hoodie and some black jeans. Even George had somewhat dressed up in a floral button down, tucked into black slacks.

“Thanks for coming with me,” George broke his silence as they came to a stop in front of a Monet painting; Although, Joe wouldn’t have known that if it wasn't for the name plate.

Joe just shrugged and observed the paintings swirly brush strokes, “You’d do it for me if we were at an auto museum.”

“I know you probably don’t give two fucks but this is perfect.” George stood closer to the canvas, closely inspecting the brush strokes and colors, “Impressionism changed the way we perceive light and color.”

Joe smiled and nodded, he wasn’t really sure what George was talking about but he found it adorable getting to watch George's eyes light up talking about it.

It’s how their friendship always had been, George explained something more quote on quote, intellectual to Joe. He wouldn’t get it but thought it was cute the way George's cheeks light up and he would smile wide.

“Still know your stuff, Luz.” Joe’s voice raspy, flicking his line of eyesight to George. He watched the boy's chicken scratch fill the page about the influential painting.

“It’s my escape, Joe. Remember, art history is just my minor.” George smirked and bumped Joe’s hip with his own, “Think you need to find yourself a new escape, Joe.”

“Why do you say that?” Joe pursed his lips nervously.

“Because, I know you’ve been isolating yourself more and more.”

“What am I gonna do? Start running again?” Joe half joked wanting to brush off this subject nearly immediately. Running had been his escape, till the accident happened.

“Well you could…”

“With my insurance that barely will cover a standard prosthetic?”

“You have a point there. Maybe you could start doing porn? I don’t know? There’s an audience out there for everything.” The two quieted down as an old lady shot a look to them from a couple feet away.

“So, what’s so special about this painting?”

“Look at the brush strokes and the way the light hits in the center.” George held his hand hovering over the canvas, his pen still balanced between his fingers. “You can feel the emotion in the painting, it’s not just an image, it’s a memory. You know, It’s like when other memories stand out over other ones.”

“I don’t get it.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

Joe feels his heart twinge a moment again; he feels like George knows what’s going on inside his head. He’s looking at this painting of a beautiful garden of lilac colored flowers and it feels like some metaphor to their relationship…or that’s just how George’s paper feels in Joe’s sense.

————————

He sat at the edge of the bed gripping the simple, black frame in his hands. The edge digging into his palms, he welcomed the pain.

Emily’s arms were thrown around Joe's neck, gazing up at him lovingly. Joe's head tilted just the slightest to get a view of the beautiful girl and the camera. He wanted to throw it at the wall…he couldn’t.

He knew Babe and John’s passing judgmental looks that the frame still sat on his nightstand.

He just kept avoiding the steps of nailing the relationship coffin all the way shut. He needed to move on…he felt pathetic, truly he had no excuses. He should be glad she didn’t wait any longer to cheat. Joe really had thought about asking his Abuela for the family ring.

He cupped the corner of the frame further into his palm as he heard his phone buzz. He laid the frame face down on the bed and grabbed it. He couldn’t face the guilt of Emily’s face staring at him when he texted George.

Luz: Leaving now.

He was supposed to go out with George tonight. He could feel his chest of anxiety fighting and begging for him to just stay in.

Joe sucked in a breath and forced himself up from the bed before he’d let the thoughts go any further. He grabbed a shirt off the end of his bed and brought it up for a sniff. Clean enough to wear; Although, he did want to impress George.

He walked over to his dresser and pulled open the second drawer. He tugged out a more tighter fitting, black shirt from the drawer. He pulled it on and flexed just for himself , observing his own muscles.

Jesus, he looked ridiculous.

“Get in, bitch we’re going bar hopping.” George said with a cheery smile leaning out the rolled down window.

“Alright, Reginald George.” Joe shook his head, shoving his keys into his pockets.

“Like that shirt,” George tenderly reached across the center console of the shitty car he still has from high school. The smell of Little Caesar’s practically engraved and stuck in the upholstery.

Joe's heart fluttered and began beating a mile a minute.

“As much as your Monet?”

“Claude Monet is not part of this.”

————————

Music blaring, lights flashing, John’s shirt unbuttoned and hanging open, the club breathing life into Joe’s somber attitude.

He could feel every drink and shot coursing his veins and making the thoughts disappear. If he wasn’t down a leg and despised the incoordination of his body when drunk, he’d drink more.

He couldn’t shake a smile from his face, his hands on George’s hips. The other grinding his hips against his crotch.

The liquid encouragement seeped right out onto the dance floor for him to slip on. “Think we should go to the bathroom?”

“Yeah? Wuddya’ need in there, Joey?” George flicked his head to the side to see him better, the boy's damp lips nearly brushing against Joe's stubbled chin.

“You,” he purred right into George’s ear.

———————

“You, what!?” Babes' orange juice spit across the table.

“Nothin’” Joe shrugged, he should’ve expected the reaction he received, “Don’t act like you guys haven’t done that before.”

“Yeah, but Bucks not my fake boyfriend.” John crossed his arms sitting back in the chair. Babe kindly had made breakfast for the two of them, both nursing hangovers.

John’s comment made him feel worse. Gene and Gale weren’t just pretend boyfriends for them.

“I know, okay. I just have to figure out what to tell him…” Joe’s hands went to his thighs, taking handfuls of the pajama pants fabric.

“Buck, told me to tell you that you need to figure this out before just going on another fake date with the boy. George is into you and all of us can see it.” John stabbed a piece of three pancakes, smothered in sticky syrup.

“You think?”

“Do we think?” Babe repeated in a mocked manner.

“Haven’t even known you two half as long as him and I can attest.”

“What if we don’t work out and our entire friendship is thrown away?” His line of vision shifted to the ceiling and closed his eyes for a moment.

“I think that’s a conversation to have with him.” Gale piped in emerging into the kitchen.

“Didn’t even know you were here?” Babe’s attention quickly pulled from Joe to the blonde. He knew his friends were right and he needed to get his head out of his ass and figure out what’s going on.

———————

The day of the dinner came, George sat on the arm chair. His jacket draped over the back as he waited for Joe to pick him up.

But one, two, three hours came and no word or answer from Joe came.

He stayed put in the clothes he had on incase Joe did show up. But as the third hour pursued he grew more and more concerned.

He had begun typing out a message to Gene asking if he had any idea about him; Although, he was praying the answer was no as he’s a paramedic on shift.

Knuckles wrapped on the door with the familiar clank of Joe’s rings. His heart settled in his chest.

“Where have you been?” George didn’t even wait to see what he looked like on the other side before opening.

With closer inspection, he could tell he had been crying.

“I’m sorry. We need to talk.”

George’s heart sank and he suspected a couple different reasons for his demise, “Yeah, come in.”

He let him in with a swift familiar thump of the half broken door. “Is everything alright?”

“I don’t know,” He sat down on the armchair and dropped his head into his hands, “I’m sorry.”

“I know you already said that, why?”

“I think I’m in love with you, Luz.” He mumbled through his hands.

He froze. His whole body ran cold a moment, not in a negative way but not necessarily in a way he expected either.

“I am too, but I think we need to take this slow. I love you so much, Joe, but I’m not just going to be your rebound.” George dropped to his knees in front of Joe.

“I know, I agree. I just…Buck told me…”

“Hush.” George took his hands and brought them to his lips. He could feel the cool metal of the rings against his lips, “Are you okay, where were you, before?”

“At the mausoleum.”

“Talking to her?”

“Mhm,” Joe looked away a moment, his teeth sinking into his lips to prevent himself from crying. George knew when Joe was confused or just frustrated he would go and talk to his mom.

“We don’t gotta talk about it,” George pulled Joe closer and hugged him tight. His hand ran up Joe’s back and back down, over and over.

Joe took a deep breath, looking into George’s eyes. “I think... I’ve been afraid. Afraid of losing you if this doesn’t work out. But I can’t pretend anymore. I have feelings for you, real feelings.”

George’s lips pulled into a small smile. “Joe, I’ve had feelings for you for a while. I was just waiting for you to figure it out.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Joe’s. “So, what do you say? No more pretending?”

Joe let out a long sigh, his heart feeling lighter than it had in months. “No more pretending.”

They closed the gap, sealing their new beginning with a kiss. It felt like coming home, everything falling into place. For the first time in a long while, Joe felt hopeful about the future.

#hbowarsummer24 #i really hope you enjoyed!#band of brothers #luztoye #george luz #joe toye #joseph toye #fake dating #modern au #babe heffron #eugene roe #baberoe #john egan #bucky egan #gale cleven #buck cleven #clegan #theo writes #trashbag baby666 fics

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penncilkid · 7 months ago

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Top 5 listener designs you’ve made :D

EEE okay this is fun cause I get to toss my art out again /pos (This also reminded me that I don't draw my listeners nearly enough so whoops /lh)

Zabdiel [Freelancer/Deviant] is probably my favorite off the top of my head, I just adore this sketch so much

Then Marcel [Starlight] came to mind (unsurprising if you know me)

Maia [Darlin] has to be on the list (again, unsurprising if you know me /lh) (On the right is the old design for Alex, one of Veau's "Angel's)

Ayl [Lovely] came to mind as well, but I think I'm partially biased 'cause this is a recent piece I'm really proud of

And then obligatory choice of adding Malakhi [Baabe] since they were part of my first colored piece of Redacted Fanart (except I'm showing this version instead /lh)

I haven't drawn/designed them yet (visually) but I anticipate that I'm gonna have a lot of fun with Dejah [Cutie] as well as my "Treasure" whenever I get around to designing them (which might be sooner rather than later given the recent Porter vid)

[Bonus Submission (given its the anniversary + I'm proud as fuck of this piece too)]: My version of "Sherlock" from NeXus <333

#PK Answers #PK Art Gallery #Redacted Fanart #NeXus Fanart #Halfway through I realized I don't think you're a Redacted fan at all Echo </3 #But I hope you enjoyed this response anyways! /lh /pos #redacted audio #redacted freelancer #redacted starlight #redacted darlin #redacted lovely #redacted babe

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seduceme-lovestruck-thearcana · 7 months ago

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Can you write about Mika comforting Damien after he’s had a nightmare?

Of course! I’ve been busy and writing other stuff but I can do it now!! Hope you enjoy and sorry if it’s not so great. I’m not so great at writing Damien😭, but I Hope you enjoy :)💙.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated as always!!

He didn’t understand why the nightmare kept happening. The Demon Lord was dead, gone, and wouldn’t’ve been able to hurt Damien or Mika.

Mika, his lovely wife. They both had fought the Demon Lord for her freedom, and got married once they returned a few months ago. He believed their life could be better and peaceful, but every so often a nightmare haunted him, and it was always the same.

He opened his eyes in the dream and was in the throne room, with the Demon Lord far from him. Damien looked up on instinct and saw Mika, his lovely Mika, held up in the air by the monster. He wanted to run towards her, and he always, always tried, but he was stuck. He was frozen like a statue and was forced to watch the Demon Lord stab her, and hear her scream.

The Demon Lord said something, something about him being a bastard and how it’s his fault, but it never really processed. The only thing that processed was the sounds and sight of her death. He stabbed her until she stopped responding, and threw her lifeless body to the ground.

It broke him out of his trance and he tried to run towards her, shouting her name, but he was suddenly stopped by hands pulling him away. The Demon Lord looked at him the entire time, smiling even harder when the hands drag him away to the dungeons. It changed so quickly, it always did, and suddenly his hands were placed on a stone wall, and he heard the crack of a whip followed by the pain on his back.

It cracked over and over again, the pain worsened each time, and just before he woke he heard someone whisper, “A demon till the day you die.”

He sat up with a loud gasp, the world spinning as soon as he opened his eyes. He took in quick breaths, eyes scanned the room to see any threat, but there was none. He almost screamed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, only to look over and immediately recognize Mika.

“Damien? What’s wrong?” She noticed his breathing and the slight sheen of sweat on his face, and had a guess of what happened. She moved up to lean against the headboard and gently pulled him with her. Like always, he moved with her and wrapped his arms around her tightly, laying his cheek on her shoulder, while she ran a hand through his hair. “Was it a nightmare again?” He nodded silently. His eyes were focused solely on her stomach, the places she was stabbed in, and almost missed her next question. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Nothing was different. You still died and I was…”. He couldn’t finish the sentence, his throat felt too tight to continue. His tears fell before he could’ve stopped them, and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, feeling slight embarrassment though he knew she never judged him.

Her hand moved down his back, rubbing up and down to prove nothing was there. No scars or cuts or slashes. No one had hurt him. She lifted his chin up to make him look at her, up into her lovely green eyes that always made him feel safe. “Damien, you’re here with me. We’re safe.” She took one of his hands and placed it on her stomach, proving there were no stabs or blood, and then placed it over her heart. “We’re both alive.” She then wiped a few tears away and caressed his cheek lovingly, making him feel the warmth from her body, and not the coldness he knew her body had in the nightmare.

He listened to her voice, felt her touch, and followed her breathing to ease himself, a routine he did after each nightmare. Her heart was strong under his hand, and alive. He let out a deep sigh and nodded. “Yes, we’re alive. You’re alive. We’re safe,” he repeated to himself.

She slid back down to her spot in bed, him following her, and pulled him to her chest. He heard each heartbeat and breath she took, reassuring him more. She then began to hum a lullaby softly, guiding him to a peaceful sleep. When he was on the edge of sleep, ready to fall back into the darkness and hope for a better dream, he heard her whisper, “I love you, Damien. I’ll be here for you whenever you need me. Forever.”

He believed her, like he always did and always would until the end.

I hope you enjoyed! I’m open for many more, but forgive me if I’m not as good for Matthew and Damien but I hope you enjoyed and see this Anon💙!

#seduce me the otome #seduce me #my writing #I wish it would just tell anon’s when they’re answered I don’t want you to think I forgot or ignored you!!!#anyways I really do hope you enjoyed!! My writing is better I swear I just struggle with Damien and Matthew😭. but I’m always excited to #write them anyways babes💙. I’m open for any prompt or idea for any boy though I may complain bc I complain as a joke #anyways yeah enjoy :)#seduce me the otome the demon war #seduce me the otome 2 #seduce me the otome 2 the demon war #seduce me the demon war #seduce me 2 #seduce me 2 the demon war

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passivenovember · 2 years ago

Text

“You know how I used to have a crush on you?”

Steve looks up from his math homework, sort of. Stuck in that space between awake and swimming.

Billy won’t look at him. The end of his pencil has been chewed to shit, his rough draft for Erickson’s American History seminar laying blank and discarded on the lush green carpet of Steve’s bedroom floor.

“I guess so,” Steve tells him. Only, he doesn’t know.

They’ve never talked about it. But, with Billy, it’s best to go along with what he says, most of the time. Unless Steve’s looking to get his head chewed off, and.

Consequently, Steve needs his head for midterms.

There’s a powder-pink flush across Billy’s cheeks. An edge to his voice when he says, “I made a list,”

Like Steve’s supposed to know what that means.

"You did?” Steve asks. Because he doesn’t know. He leans back against the footboard of his window seat, legs stretching like a bridge between them. “Is it a good list?”

Billy shrugs. His cheeks get redder, somehow.

He’s pretty. Like a sugared lollipop.

Steve leans forward, “It’s a pros and cons list?”

Steve’s cocky. knows from dating Nancy that his pros outweigh his cons by a couple lines. Mentions of his cock and chest hair.

He’s nervous, all of a sudden.

Doesn’t admit that even though there’s no way he’s getting into college, he hopes that someone as bright and magnetic as Billy will still want to neck at the drive in.

Billy crosses his arms. Frowns. Says, “It’s a list of Icks,” all pissy, like Steve has control over that stuff.

And it makes sense Steve would find out that all his dreams are coming true when they can’t take a minute to celebrate. He feels like a shooting star, anyway. His head takes a break from swimming in equations and backstrokes through insurmountable joy.

He grins. “What’s an ‘ick’?”

“It’s something you do that makes my stomach turn,” Billy rumbles, so low Steve imagines rocks and pebbles jumping like popped corn on the ground outside.

He sticks his legs out in front of him, leaning back a little so Billy’s faced with the long, lean line of him.

One of Nancy’s pro’s. Tall.

“Tell me about ‘em,” Steve says.

There’s every possibility that Billy hates him for stuff he can’t change. Like the way he smiles or how he laughs, but. Nobody’s perfect, right?

"Fuck you, Harrington,” Billy says, baby blues tracing the bulge of Steve’s thighs, “I’m not--”

“You brought it up.”

“You’ll get your feelings hurt. Run crying to mama so I won’t be invited over anymore, and then who’s gonna help you get into college?”

Steve snorts. “I’m not getting in, anyway,” He uses his toe to poke at Billy’s knee cap, smiling when he rocks a little with the force. “C’mon. I wanna know what’s wrong with me so I can change and be perfect.”

Billy mumbles under his breath but he reaches around to his backpack, shirt riding up around his belly so Steve gets a peek at his stomach muscles.

When he turns back around he’s got a piece of crisp, quartered notebook paper in hand. In the light from the window, Steve can see that it’s full, which.

Isn’t great for his esteem.

Billy clears his throat. “Number one--”

“You numbered them?”

“From least disgusting to most,” Billy snaps. Like, duh. “Number one. When you do your Arnold Schwarzenegger impersonation and you dribble spit on your chin.”

“I gotta use my full range of motion to get the vowels right.”

“It’s gross,” Billy says, but he smiles. And giggles, happy like the Gerber baby and he’s so fucking cute Steve’s gonna die. “Can I keep going, or--”

“Be my guest.”

Billy smooths his list, mouthing the next line before reading aloud.

Steve wants to add that to his own list, just to be spiteful.

“Number two,” Billy reads, “That time you went to the barber and he had to pump the chair a little to get--”

Steve laughs, bright and sudden.

He shuts right the fuck up when Billy glares.

“Number three,” Billy tells him, the paper shaking a little in his grasp. “The sound you make when you eat something spicy. Number four, any time you open an umbrella and the wind makes it pop inside out. Number five, when you tie your shoes too efficiently and the bow is really big--”

“I’m a present. The bow is essential,” Steve sits up straight, suddenly worried. “Let me see that fucking--”

Billy blocks him with a strong arm to the chest. “C’mon, let me get through it,” He says. Like it matters.

Like it’s important to him. Billy’s continued survival hinges on this moment, so.

Steve settles down and listens to Billy read, all the way down to number twelve: when we play crack the egg with the kids on Dustin’s trampoline and you’re the egg.

And Steve has to ask, “How long have you kept this list, man?” Because that was last summer.

And Steve remembers his stomach tying itself into knots when Billy dropped Max off and stayed until the sun set. He remembers going home after the kids fell asleep, Billy tagging along. Smoking pot and blowing clouds into the twinkling night sky. He remembers Billy laughing at his jokes staying up all night to catch fireflies with him.

Steve remembers the sunrise, its first lavender rays bringing with it a sunburn across Billy’s freckles. He remembers falling in love. Or realizing it.

Billy shrugs, “I wrote the first one to help me get over you.”

Steve frowns. Hopes it didn’t work and says, “What’s the first one?”

Because if he knows, maybe he can change it. Maybe he can cheat the system and get Billy’s love focused on him again, burning hot and heady.

Billy stares at him for a long, breathless moment. “You dress up for Halloween,” He admits. “The way your nose supports the weight of sunglasses wigs me out.”

And.

Steve’s belly swoops low, like he’s been at the peak of the highest hill on a rollercoaster. Now he’s plummeting down to Earth. Right now, he’s a crash dummy colliding with the realization that--

“That was love, the first night we met,” Steve says bluntly. Billy’s cheeks look like apples, fresh and embarrassed. “That night, at Tina’s Halloween party--”

“I didn’t say I was in love with you--”

“I know, I’m saying I’m in love with you,” Steve admits, like. Leap.

A lot of things happen at once.

Billy’s whole face cracks open. His eyes look like swimming pools overflowing with emotion until they turn into lakes and rivers and oceans, pulling Steve under with all their sincerity.

Outside Steve’s window, the sun shines.

It casts a halo of golden love around Billy’s head. He looks like an angel.

Steve’s never going to let him go.

He leans forward, “Keep reading,” Steve asks softly. “C’mon, I wanna hear.”

Billy jerks into motion, tearing his eyes away to scan the page in front of him. “Number thirteen,” He tries, swallowing until his throat clicks, “When we’re swimming in the pool and you’re trunks inflate so it looks like you’re wearing a diaper.”

Steve chuckles, allowing his fingers to wrap playfully around the ends of Billy’s hair.

Now that the truth is out, he’s going to touch.

Billy shivers. “Number fourteen, when you put on Chapstick and you’ve sharpened the applicator so it looks like a sword or a baby finger.”

Steve cups the back of Billy’s neck.

Pulls himself forward.

When they kiss, Billy’s notebook paper glides to the floor.

#harringrove #fluff #IDK WHAT THIS IS #i didn't edit either so you get what you get babes #hope you enjoy!

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