#nobody should look good in a long sleeve polo shirt

[bloggerspam]

Chapter 5: Teacher Teacher

For @underforeversgrace and @sheabeeprime again

i'm doing my best to cram as many prompts into this phic as I can, frantically shoe-horning as much as i can like little puzzle pieces.

===

William Lancer is, frankly, too tired and underpaid for this shit. 

But against all odds he loves kids, and genuinely thinks they are the future. 

Bleak as that future may be. 

The best he can do is help them when they need it.

And Animal Farm, do they need it.

Often.

And consistently. 

All internal monologue levity aside, Will is especially concerned for the Fenton boy.

He used to be a good, rule abiding boy. He used to get A’s and though his parents were hardly going to win “Parents-of-the-Year” award, they at least loved their children, as far as Will knew.

Didn’t they?

But Daniel has been skipping classes, his grades have been falling, and his attitude has been….erratic.

And that’s not to mention the scars. 

He started noticing the scars mid-year, just as the weather started to warm up, and Daniel had yet to shed his jacket. 

Most of the people of Amity Park liked to keep to themes—Will himself is victim of it, keeping to his blue polos and comfy but professional looking plaid pants. 

There were exceptions here or there, who wouldn’t get bored every now and then? 

But Daniel usually wore that red and white raglan tee shirt–occasionally some kind of NASA paraphernalia. 

Summer was fast creeping up, and Daniel has yet to shed his jacket—not even during PE. 

People were starting to notice—the other teachers whispering about the scars on the boys hands, the occasional flash of scarring on the nape of his neck, and if his sleeves were hiked up for a moment, even on his arms. 

Mrs. Tetslaff had come to him after school one day, telling him that Daniel was forced to change into shorts after an incident at lunch. 

“The scars are on his legs, Lancer.” She had gruffly whispered. Her fists were clenched and her entire countenance screamed anger. 

“It’s not his parents.” Will had said then, because it wasn’t. He had dropped by the Fenton’s on random occasions, to speak with the parents as delicately as he could manage.

Just in case. 

But whilst the Drs Fenton were guilty of a certain degree of neglect (with young Jasmine was picking up the slack) they loved their children dearly. 

But where, then, did the scars come from?

The teachers were wary, and even the students were picking it up. 

Something was off about the young Fenton boy, and Will was helpless against it. 

When Summer came with no answers and an abundance of questions, Will became more determined. 

He would see the boy around town—it was hard not to occasionally see one of his students in a small town like Amity Park—and he seemed fine, jovial even.

But the long sleeves stayed. 

It wasn’t until the night before the boy’s sophomore year began that anybody got answers.

It was too bad that they didn’t realize the enormity of the situation. 

It was too bad that the only one who seemed to be helping was the young Weston boy. 

Will was ashamed by how hesitant he was to believe the dream. 

As adults, they should have known better. 

But even if it was a little late, even if it took them almost a year to do anything about it beyond whispering in the hallways, Will was happy.

Because the Fenton boy needed him.

And like with all his other students, it was Will’s job to do his best to provide help.

Mr. Weston seemed to have the student’s help in hand, with Miss Gray providing aid with a fervor nobody seemed to expect.

Will sits here now, in the teacher conference room amongst his colleagues and thought to himself: Let the kids handle the kids. 

He stares at the white board where Principal Ishiyama had written in bright red “G.I.W.” on one side and “FENTON PARENTS” on the other, a variety of bullet points listed under each category.

The adults would handle the adults. 

It was their job as teachers, after all.

Chapter 1: Beginning of an End

For @sheabeeprime and @uniasus for this year's @phicphight !

===

The thing about Fenton is that he’s not…..subtle. 

Star thinks about this as she watches him struggle with his locker. Kwan’s just about to offer to help—she can see it in her peripherals—before Fenton groans, looks left and right (completely missing them loitering across the hall directly behind him) and sticks his hand into the locker. 

He’s fiddling around with the lock, trying to unlock it, instead of doing the completely reasonable thing and just. Grabbing the thing he wanted to grab. Why bother with the lock at all if he’s just gonna stick his hand in anyway?

She and Kwan share a look at that. Kwan scratches the back of his head, looking around to see if anybody else could tell him what to do, before settling on her pleadingly. 

She sighs, shaking her head and closing her eyes against the headache that she feels coming on. It’s Senior Year. You’d think after 3 years, Fenton would get better at hiding, not worse. 

But then again…it did take the majority of Casper High a year to even realize something was wrong with the boy.

She thinks about that, before correcting herself. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just….not all right either. She shakes her head, walking off to the nearest classroom door. It’s early in the morning so the halls are still relatively empty. Star and Kwan are only here because of morning practice. 

She wonders, idly, why Fenton is so early. He’s usually late, but then again the ghosts have been getting better about leaving him alone these days. Fenton’s lost those wretched eye-bags he kept carrying around like Paulina and her prada bags. 

She opens the door softly, placing Kwan in front of her and placing her hand on his broad back, as if pushing him out. She slams the door behind her, pushing Kwan who blessedly goes with it. 

“Star! What’s the rush?” Fenton jumps, yanking his hand out and inadvertently tripping the locker open. 

“We’re gonna be late to practice.” She says, primly. 

“Alright alright, oh, hey Fentino.” Kwan chuckles, as they pass by Danny. 

He flinches, picking up the books that spilled out. “Hey, Kwan. Star.” 

He starts pulling at his sleeves, always long sleeved nowadays, but no sleeve is long enough to cover the scars that litter his wrists and fists. She gives him a sweet smile, staunchly ignoring the way his answering nervous smile has too many teeth. 

“Morning Danny. See you later.” She stops pushing at Kwan to pull up beside him. He takes her hand, squeezing it gently as they make their way down the hall. Just before they turn the corner she sees Danny stare at his hand in fear. He flexes it, and she notices that it has claws, before they disappear and he breathes out a shakey sigh.

“It’s getting worse, isn’t it?” Kwan says softly. She looks up at him, and his sad far away stare. 

She doesn’t want to answer–doesn’t want to face the truth of it. But this is Kwan.

“Yes.” Of all the A-listers, she’s the only one that seems to be on neutral terms with Danny, and the only one who see exactly how many times it’s been a close call. 

His hand squeezes hers, and the rest of the walk to practice is deathly silent. Because what can you say to that? Nothing. 

She squeezes back. 

[andy-clutterbuck]

Enduring Love | 2004

[applepi-1]

They comfort you after a break up

Sugawara x you

Kenma x you

Suna x you

(Picking names was hard, I used a random picker wheel and apparently, my computer loves Tsukishima, Akaashi, and Bokuto a lot.)

Also Kenma's is longer... :)

--

Suga- 820 words

You were at his house in front of his door, sighing lightly before knocking. You could hear his footsteps, you felt stupid and guilty for waking him up at 11. He looked at you softly, only to turn into worry as he noticed your clothes were a bit messy, your cheeks were puffy, and your hair looks like a rat's nest. "Uh, Y/n?"

"Can I stay here tonight...?" Suga opened his door letting you walk in, immediately closing it behind you, grabbing your arms so he could look at you better.

"What's going on?" He quickly stepped to you, "Oh no no no, N/n, don't cry, it'll be okay, I'm here now." He sat you on the couch before sitting next to you, taking you into his arms. He cradled you, as you wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him as you cried into his chest. He silently held me for a moment before he spoke again. "Y/n, do you want to talk about it? Tell me what happened."

You pulled yourself out of his chest enough to look him in the eyes, "B/n broke it off." Ugh. You don't need him to see you like this. You know that he wouldn't react very well to the breakup. When you had first said yes to B/n when he'd asked you out, Suga had gone to him and told him to take good care of you, and to talk things out if they got rough. Well, B/n left you crying and Suga is not happy to see you like this. You're sure he's thinking about stabbing him multiple times.

His expression went from concerned to shocked to angry to comforting in less than two seconds. "Oh Y/n," he hugged you, holding you tighter. "Did he say why?"

"He just wasn't feeling it anymore, his feelings had gone flat and run out." You cried into his chest, your salty tears staining his Polo shirt. "He wasn't interested in me anymore."

He rubbed your back, comforting you, "Y/n, it's going to be okay, I've got you. I won't let anyone hurt you anymore." He pulled you into his lap as he leaned against the back of the couch. "I know that it hurts, but I promise you I will never let anyone hurt you like this ever again." He kissed the top of your head and you cried harder.

"Sh...Sh...n/n... We should watch a movie." He whispered once you calmed down.

He reached across the couch and grabbing the remote. He typed in a movie title quickly so that you couldn't see. Then it was loading in front of you.

You admired how he was so focused on making you happy. You liked that he paid attention.

But of course, you paid attention to him too. You noticed how his hair is a mess, and how he was wearing a t-shirt, he knew he could always be comfortable around you. You loved the way he carried himself confidently when he walked. You loved when he called you, 'Love', it made you feel a different kind of special than other names. You picked him as your best friend for a reason.

However that may be, you also couldn't help but admire that when he reached for the remote, his arm was very close to you and his lean muscle was hard not to attend brain cells too. He held you tight and you could feel his strong chest, and his toned abdomen embracing you. When you looked into his eyes, you could feel yourself falling in love with their shade and color. When he spoke, his deep voice entranced your thoughts. You couldn't deny that he was attractive.

"Love," he said. "Are you watching the movie?" he asked, running his fingers through your hair, twisting the ends between his first finger and thumb.

You looked up at him, "Sugawara,"

"Yes?" he asked.

"I just wanted to say your name," you said. "I like to say your name."

"I like saying your name too." he smiled.

You looked into his eyes, and he looked right back at yours, he very slowly, leaned in slightly, his eyes starting to close. He lightly pressed his lips to yours, in a very tender kiss. He pulled away, slightly. A blush rising on your cheeks. Your heart fluttered. He smiled and you did too.

You rested your head on his chest once again and thought about what just happened. He kissed you. On the lips. With his lips. They were soft, and they pressed on yours ever so lightly and you wanted that amazing feeling again. The soft gentleness of his love pressed to your skin, your lips. You loved him, he was your best friend.

You looked up at him again, making him look at you. "Suga, what just happened?" You asked.

"I kissed you," he said. Then he thought for a moment, "Yeah, I kissed you."

--

Kenma- 1705 words

"Kenma?" You asked on your phone, your voice wavering. You could just feel the lump/frog in your throat creeping up because, first of all, even though Kenma was your friend, you always got a little bit nervous when you talked to him, once you had developed a crush on him. And second of all, you were on the verge of tears.

"Hey, Y/n. Are you alright? Do you need me to come by your house? Is there anything wrong? Or am I just overreacting?" he said. You could tell that he was obviously worried, just by hearing his tone and his many questions.

"I'm fine. But can you please come over? I need a friend." You stated simply, not revealing too much.

"I'll leave my place in a minute and I'll be over there as soon as possible. Okay?" You nodded in response, forgetting that he couldn't see me at the moment.

"Thank you." Your voice was barely above a whisper now. Kenma wouldn't get off the phone because he kept wanting to make sure that you were alright. "Dude I'm okay. I'm just not sure that you'll be if you keep this call on while running. I need you, though, so please just hang up and come as soon as you can." You had to be the one to hang up, even though it pained you to do so. At the moment, though, it had seemed like it pained him more.

~ Time Skip ~

There was a knock on your door and you knew who it must have been.

You knew that it was too early for your family to be back. You were home alone while everyone else was out at dinner. Somehow, you had convinced your parents to let you stay home, alone. They said that as long as you didn't party and no one, that you didn't trust, came into the house, they'd be fine with it and they'd probably let you do it again.

You got off of your bed, which you had ended up crying in, and started walking down the stairs.

Sweeping your hair out of your face and trying to smooth it out, you went over to the door. You took a deep breath, pulled down both of your sleeves, and put on the best fake smile that you could muster.

As soon as you saw him, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You didn't even offer to let him in at first. All you did was take in his handsomeness. blond hair with black roots and his golden eyes; wearing his usual, laid-back outfit that you always enjoyed. It was weird to you how one person could help alter your mood, by even just the tiniest bit.

"Aren't you gonna let me in?" he asked, smiling at you, with a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. He looked down at his phone hoping you didn't see it.

"Oh, sorry!" You apologized, gesturing for him to come into the house and shut the door behind him.

"Hey, I hate to do this to you, but do you mind if I take a look at what's in the kitchen?" he asked. "I had practice and I changed, walked over to my house and that's when you called. Now I'm starving."

"Sure!" You replied with fake cheeriness, going toward the living room. He walked into the kitchen, which had a pretty nice view of the room you were going in. "And I'm sorry. I should have let you stay over at your house." You faked a laugh, which screamed the word 'fake', and that gave your whole charade away. He walked into the living room, where you were about to sit down on the couch. Taking a seat next to you, he turned toward you.

"Y/n, what's with all of the apologizing?" Before you could respond, he added, "If you really wanna apologize, don't feel bad about things like those. Apologize for lying to me."

You knew that he wasn't going to let you lie to him anymore, who were you kidding to be lying to him, so you quit your act and put down your guard. You looked into his eyes and he could see that you were on the verge of breaking so he put his arms up as you crashed into him and wrapped your arms around him, starting to let out your sobs. You cried into his t-shirt and, strangely, he didn't actually seem to mind. He wrapped his arms around you and brought you in even closer to him.

When he started to rub circles with his hands on your back, you started to relax. Nobody had ever made you feel that comfortable before when you were as distraught as you are at the time.

You started to control your breathing and he just kept you enveloped in his arms. He put his chin on top of your head and mumbled, more to himself than to you, "It's okay pudding."

Once you had stabilized your tears and breathing, you looked up and took a quick glance into his eyes. You looked away quickly, though. You were fearing that he was going to judge you or use this moment against you. It's not like he was that type of person, because he really wasn't, but nobody had actually seen you so vulnerable before and you weren't sure how he, nor anyone for that matter, would respond.

"It's okay," he promised. "You can tell me anything and I swear I won't tell anyone unless I think it could help. And I'd tell you first. You do not have to feel embarrassed around me."

You looked back into his eyes and saw how sincere he was being. Just by looking into his eyes, you could see loyalty, sincerity, honesty, and care. You were super grateful to have him as a friend. He's not used to this, Kenma's not used to comforting anyone, or good with his words, so it shocked you a little.

"I, uh, you really wanna know?" You asked. When he nodded, You decided that it was now or never. "B/n broke up with me..." You whispered making Kenma sad. "And you want to know the reason why?" You asked dramatically, but before he could ask you gave him an answer, "It's because I've been dealing with depression and anxiety for a long time now. You know that. And it's been so hard and nobody understands. Every time people find out, they judge me. Or they just tell me to get help. But whenever I try to get help, nobody cares. Even if they do care, they don't understand, though. I hate sounding selfish and bitchy, but I just wish that there was someone who cared and understood, y'know? It's hard enough going through your teenage years, trying to figure out who you are, but then having depression and anxiety on top of it really sucks. And it's a really crappy thing to go through." He just sat there, stunned, so you continued. "I mean, having to deal with me has, probably, always been tough, but it's probably gonna be harder now. Plus, it's like what if I end up using this as my excuse for all my irrational decisions? I would be abusing this disorder, almost as much as it's abusing me. And it's just really hard to deal with. Because even the people who care a lot, and who try to understand what I'm going through, can never really help. I'm not sure if they just don't get it or if they just, honestly, don't actually give a crap. As much as I want them to understand, though, I really couldn't wish any of this upon them because nobody, even the worst of the worst, deserves to go through depression and anxiety. And I just don't really know what to do with all of these pent-up emotions."

By this point, you had let out all of your emotions and tears; that was enough explaining, at least for the time being.

"Y/n, don't ever feel like you have to keep secrets like those from me, okay? I care about you, more than you could ever imagine, and I want you to know that and to be able to open up to me."

"I know you care, Ken." You mumbled, leaning away from him.

You just sat there, gazing into each other's eyes, and he let out a sigh. "Of course I care. You're my best friend, and you have been for a while now. Hell, you're more than that! All I want is for you to feel comfortable around me. I mean, I don't really understand what you're going through and I also don't understand why you're going through it, but I do know that you're such an amazing, gorgeous girl that doesn't deserve any of this bull. I can't even begin to pretend to understand any of this so I'm not going to. I'll try to understand, sure; but I'm not going to act like I do because that'd be a lie. But I really like you and I don't wanna see anyone go through this pain, especially not you."

You had no idea how to respond to that so you just sat there, staring up into his eyes. How do you respond to that...? Kenma- a boy who never said much since you've been friends- just full-on rambled to you. "But what about all my flaws? Do you really want to have to deal with this?"

"You have a hell of a lot more to deal with than I do so I'm not gonna be the one to complain. And I don't care about your flaws. I mean, I do care about them, but I don't hate them. Your flaws are what make you the person you are and the person you are is imperfectly perfect and perfectly imperfect. As cheesy as that sounds, it's true. Because I have the power to see beyond your flaws and to see who you truly are, and I am going to use that power like I already have. Your flaws just make you even better, in my opinion."

Again, you were speechless.

--

Suna- 662 words

You ran to the gym quickly once you ran all eyes were on you. But all you could do was run to your best friend. Miya Osamu was confused as you immediately wrapped your arms around him. "Y/n?" He didn't have the time to look at you, they were practicing against Karasuno, and any other time you would've cared, Suna walked in with the other Miya twin looking at you in shock, but Suna ran over to you before Atsumu could open his mouth.

"Y/n?" He pulled you away and took in your appearance, you were supposed to be on a date with that guy, B/n. But now looking at you, your shirt was a mess and unbuttoned a little, your cheeks were red and puffy, your lip was busted a little, and your hair... god you were a wreck, he immediately wrapped his arms around you letting you cry into him. "Atsumu, get my jacket." The boy did as told handing it to him, before he wrapped it around you, letting you put the jacket on as he zipped it before pulling you back into his chest. "What happened, N/n?" You held onto him tighter, he sighed and looked at the other members. "Would you tell me if we were alone?" You sighed leaning up to whisper it into his ear.

"It... it was a bet..." He furred his brows at the answer, everyone looked confused as well.

"What do you mean...?" You sighed again tugging his shirt, he got the message and bent down a little.

"It was... a-all a b-bet... to g-get into m-my pa-pants..." You admitted embarrassingly. Suna's eyes widen looking down at you before his blood boiled.

"It was what?!" His voice was low and cold, it literally made you shiver. He didn't want you to repeat yourself, eventually, Sugawara came over rubbing your arm softly.

"What happened, dear?" Sugawara always gave off this mom vibe making you smile a little, but that mom vibe was immediately replaced with scary after you told him the story.

"Where're my knives Daichi?!" Daichi jumped looking at his boyfriend {;) I'm kidding, maybe..}

"Uh... it's that bad?" He looked at you making you nod, saying it was okay to tell him.

"Oh, it's that bad. It was all a bet." Everyone looked at you in shock. Tsukishima even gave you a small smile. You just nuzzled your way into Suna trying to make yourself disappear.

"I'm sorry... S-Suna..." he looked down at you before gently rubbing your arms kissing your head lightly.

"I knew you still had a thing for him, you lying bitch!" You immediately tensed up, Suna looked at the boy over his shoulder. He stopped short in his track as he noticed all the death glares he was receiving.

"What did you just call our manager?" The twins said together looking at the boy with murderous glares.

"Daichi, I need my knives!" That was what made him run, but all the boys followed, all except you two.

"You okay...?" You looked up at him and shook your head.

"Not really..."

"Hm, want to come over and watch a movie...?" He was ignoring what your ex said, making you sigh.

"You don't have to beat around the bush, I get it, you don't like me... so..."

"I-I didn't think much of what he said." You don't really ever see a blushing Suna, so it was a first. "I-I thought he was lying... but, w-who said I didn't like you back?" Your eyes widen a little as he looked away.

"Do you... like me back...?" All the boys stopped at the door hearing your conversation and like Suna would do if this was one of the twins, they filmed it.

"I... I do..." You felt a smile appear on your messed-up face. Suna looked down at you and smiled back. "I-I'll kiss you when your lip isn't busted." You both laughed before hugging your best friend, well now boyfriend.

[leafs-lover]

Because Two People Got Drunk: 14

Series Masterlist

A/N: Bold is text messages, italics are flashbacks

Summary: You and Fred have returned from the summer as the new season is starting up. You try and navigate your lives as your dynamic has changed.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut

Word Count: 3700

Chapter 14

F: Hey home opener is Saturday, would love for you and Ollie to come. Let me know

You sit at your phone staring at it for a bit before facetiming Allie.

“Hey girl” she says answering.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Not much you?”

“Not a lot” you pause “Fred just asked me to come to the opener with Ollie.” “Why is that weird?” she asks you.

“He is still with Danielle the nurse” you grumble.

“You know if you didn’t weasel out in the summer you could be with him now".”

You hear a knock on your door and open it to see Fred “Hey Fred" you say letting him in.

“Hey (Y/N) how’s it going?”

“I’m good, you?”

“I’m good. Thanks for letting me get him so late.” He says about the fact it’s almost 10pm. “I had plans tonight, but I wanted the full day with him. Trying to get as much time in with him as I can before the season starts back up.”

“Oh no worries, I’m sure he won’t even move when we grab him. I actually wanted to talk to you about something anyways" you say as you head to the kitchen for some water.

When you arrived home a few weeks ago and realized you have feelings for Fred. After month of everyone around you telling you this, you finally realize it to be true and you hope you aren’t too late.

You hope you aren’t too late, because you plan on finally telling him tonight. And if you are too late you realize that you two can get through it since you have repaired your relationship from Valentine’s Day and everything that transpired after.

When you return you look at Fred and see he is wearing dark washed jeans with a white polo under a dark blazer. You stare at him a little bit before finally saying “you look nice, big date tonight?”

Crap, that wasn’t what I wanted to say.

He stares at you for a second “uh um” he starts clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah I was.”

You stare at the wall, looking about 3 inches beside his face. You aren’t able to look at him as you feel yourself go numb. You don’t hear anything and the silence feels like it goes on for minutes, although it likely was only a few seconds.

“(Y/N)” Fred says finally drawing you from your thoughts. “You wanted to talk to me about something.”

“Oh.” Not a chance you can say something now, he has moved on. Why couldn’t you have looked at him first and realized what he was wearing. He said he had plans; obviously it’s a date when he is dressed like this.

“No. It’s nothing" you manage to say talking a drink.

“You sure because -"

“Yeah I’m sure; let me get Oliver for you.” You walk into his room and lean against the wall taking a few deep breaths. You carefully scoop him up and return to Fred passing him off.

“You sure you don’t have anything you want to talk about?” he asks.

You shake your head, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. You can feel tears sitting in your throat, your bottom lip trembles slightly.

“No, everything is good” you manage to say placing a blanket on Oliver as you practically push Fred into the hall.

You take a few steps toward your living room so Fred can’t hear you through the wall. You fall to the floor and begin to cry as you realize that the man you love, the man who you thought loved you doesn’t. You hurt him so bad he walked away to someone else and now you are too late.

You shake your head remembering that night and how broken you felt. You managed to pick yourself up, literally and figuratively and have moved past those feelings. But you don’t know if you are ready to meet the girl he is dating.

“So is she going, and if so why invite me too?”

“Maybe they aren’t together anymore, or maybe she is busy or doesn’t like hockey. So many reasons. Just don’t overthink this. And if she is there maybe Fred thought you’d want to meet her before leaving your kid alone with her.”

“If that’s the case I’d rather just meet her at a drop off, not with a bunch of other people around. Or maybe he should ask me if I want to meet her before introducing us” you practically spit out the last sentence.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t tell him in the summer" she says lightly.

“Because he had a girlfriend” you say.

“She was hardly a girlfriend at that point and -"

“Well it doesn’t matter because he is with her and I’m over him” You yell cutting her off. You can see her scowl through the phone, she doesn’t believe you.

“I am. I met someone last week, I have been talking to Connor a little bit -"

“Like a band aid for Fred?” she asks.  

“No, I don’t need a band aid for Fred because I’m over him and have moved on. What I was going to say is he seems nice, and he’s funny. I want to see him again.”

“Then why does it matter the reason behind your invite, if you both are seeing people. Just don’t overthink this babe. It’s the home opener, he wants his son there. So just talk to him after.”

You and Allie continue to talk before you finally hang up.

Y: Yeah for sure, we’d love to go!

F: Great, I’ll leave the tickets at the box office. Also I got him a new jersey I’ll leave that too.

Home opener comes and you are still a ball of nerves. You dress yourself in a pair of high-waisted white jeans, with a green and pink floral puffy sleeve shirt with pink open toed wedge sandals. You dress Oliver in a pair of jeans and white t-shirt, before heading to the lounge you swing by the box office to get the tickets and you put Oliver’s new jersey on him.

“Hey” Kathy says pulling you in for a hug “wow he  is so big, probably going to be walking soon!”

“I know! He pulls himself up on things all the time, he also tries to walk holding your fingers, but he hasn’t walked without support yet.” You make your way down to the glass as the boys participate in the pre-game skate. Fred is skating a lap before he spots you guys and stops in front of you.

Ollie smiles at his dad as Fred taps on the glass “dadda” he babbles as he waves at his dad.

“Yeah is that your daddy” your coo.

“He is such a mini Fred, like identical to him.”

“I know the same hair and eyes, his entire face is just Fred” you say.

“Yeah” she agrees. “He will grow up to look exactly like Fred.”

The players skate off and you return to the lounge, scanning the crowd for Danielle. “Looking for someone” Christina asks scooping Oliver from you.

“Yeah, I was wondering if Danielle was coming, Fred’s girlfriend. I wasn’t sure if he invited her.”

“I don’t think she is coming, nobody told me is she was.”

The game is intense and Oliver falls asleep part way through the second period, you just hold him in your arms as he sleeps. The Penguins win 3-2 in overtime and you head down to the players tunnel to meet Freddie. As you wait there Oliver stirs in your arms and wakes up. You try to rock him back to sleep but the people around cause too much of a distraction. He starts squirming to be put down so you do, bending down to give him your fingers to help keep him balanced. A few minutes later you see Fred come out of the room scanning until he sees you guys. He has his tie loosely around his neck, the top button undone and his hair is still wet. He sees Oliver and bends down a few feet in front of him “what are you doing up bud? Way past your bed time.”

He reaches out to grab Oliver, at that moment Oliver releases your fingers and takes a few wobbly steps towards Fred before stumbling. Fred quickly scoops him up as you all start freaking out. “Oh my god!” you scream some people looking over at the commotion.

“He just walked, he just, he just walked. Like no support or nothing. Just like walked!” Fred exclaims picking him up and squeezing him tight. You walk over and kiss his forehead “I can’t believe my boy is walking. You’re too little, mommy isn’t ready for this.” Fred pulls you in tight and you smell his faint cologne mixed with soap and sweat as he kisses your hair. You hear Sidney say “time to get him some skates” which causes you all to laugh.

“Can I get a ride home? I carpooled here” he says.

“Yeah lets go” you reply. The two of you walk with to the car with Fred’s hand on the small of your back leading you out of the building.

“Is he already asleep?” you ask approaching the car.

“Yeah he is” Fred says buckling him in.

“Do you want me to park in the garage and help bring his stuff up?” you ask as you drive.

“Yeah that would be great thanks.”

You help Fred with the stroller and diaper bag as he removes Oliver and carries him to the elevator. You help carry everything in, as Fred puts Oliver to bed. He finds you in the kitchen, his tie now off. “You want a drink?” he asks grabbing a beer. You nod and he hands one to you sitting in the barstool beside you.

“Was a good game tonight” you say.

“Thanks” he says.

“Um, so you know that you could have got Danielle to bring him tonight.”

“Oh um… I haven’t introduced him to her yet” he says.

“Oh I kind of figured you had already”

“I’m not really sure if I’m ready for that yet” he explains. “It’s only been a few months, I don’t know how serious we are or where I see this going with her.”

“Okay, well when you are ready to introduce him to her, or someone just know I trust you.”

“Thanks.”

You sit there a little longer talking and drinking, you’re now on your 4th drink. Fred gets up to get you each a new drink when you look at the clock, it reads 12:10. You jump up and run over to Freddie as he turns around from the fridge and you wrap him in a big hug “Happy Birthday” you exclaim.

He chuckles wrapping his arms around you “thanks (Y/N/N)” you look up at him, as he stares down your eyes lingering maybe a little too long.  He pulls back from you and you both move back to the island and continue talking.

“I can’t believe that happened!” you exclaim while laughing, you feel Fred’s land on your thigh. After you stop laughing, not even sure what you were laughing at you stare at each other. Fred’s hand remains on your thigh while you stare at each other.

You lean in as you feel him close the gap your lips softly connect. He sets his beer down on the counter before his hands reach the small of your back. You shift closer and run your hands through his hair as Fred deepens the kiss. His hands drop to cup your ass pulling you onto his lap; you allow his tongue entrance to your mouth.

He stands up and your legs wrap around his waist. He begins walking to the bedroom as your tongue attaches to his neck placing light nibbles and kisses. He groans as he drops you on the bed before climbing on top of you as he begins sucking on your neck.

“Mmm” you moan out as his hand slides under your shirt. You begin to unbutton his dress shirt as he pulls your shirt over your head “fuck” he mumbles as his mouth attaches to your breasts. You undo the last button and push it off his chest, you press on his chest causing him to fall onto his back and straddle him. Fred reaches up and unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts “forgot how nice your tits are” he says bringing a hand up to pinch one of your nipples.

You throw your head back before you undo his belt as you begin rocking against him searching for friction. You feel him grow hard under you as a groan leaves his mouth. You undo his zipper and slide a hand inside palming him over his boxers. Fred undoes your jeans and begin to slide them off you. You step off the bed and out of your pants. After you pull his pants and boxers down his legs, his cock slaps against his stomach. You work your way back up his legs, you slide your hands up his large thighs and you leave a trail of gentle kisses in your wake.

You finally make your way to his hard member as you lick a stripe up the underside. You use your hand to guide him into your mouth tasting his salty pre-cum. “Fuck” he mumbles as you start bobbing on him, his hands reach down to grab your hair. You continue to bob on him, gagging slightly at his size. You use your hand to help with what you can’t fit.

You continue your pace, as you re-familiarize yourself with his size. Bobbing up and down on him you slowly begin taking him deeper as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You continue taking his entire length; he hits the back of your throat every time. Your hands rub up and down his thighs.

You hear Danish curse words spill from his lips as you look up at him through your lashes. Saliva is dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin, your hair has begun to fall to the front of your face and in your mouth. You choke slightly on it before his hand comes down to your hair, hastily pulling it out of your face into a loose pony.

“I’m gonna cum” he says. You bring your hand up to massage his balls as you continue to deep throat him. His hands tighten their grip on your hair as you feel his dick twitch as warm cum spurts down your throat. You slow your bob on him as you swallow and lick up anything that has spilled.

You release him from your mouth and wipe your chin cleaning any spit from you. You crawl up him as he pulls you down capturing you in a deep passionate kiss. He uses his arms to reach down and grab your ass, pulling you up higher “come up here” he whispers as you crawl the rest of the way until you are sitting above his face. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to his mouth, you can feel his warm breath against your folds as his beard tickles the sides of your legs.

You shudder as he begins nipping at the inside of your thighs inching towards your core. He begins sucking on your clit as a light whimper leaves your mouth “you’re so wet baby” he mumbles against you. You reach forward to brace yourself on the wall with your right hand, bringing your left down to grip his hair. He uses his hands to bring you down closer to his mouth and holds you firmly there.

His tongue licks a stripe up your entrance before sliding inside. His nose brushes against your clit as he pushes his face up. “Fred” you moan as he continues his assault on you. He pushes his tongue in further, you start to squirm as he pulls you down closer. He continues to lick the inside of your walls, one of his hands come down to scissor you as he sucks on your clit.

He pumps his fingers inside you, a slow pace but his fingers are thrust fully inside you. His mouth suck on your clit while his fingers continue to pump inside you.  “I’m close babe" you whimper as you feel your walls tightening.

Fred pulls you down closer his tongue slips inside your folds, lapping inside you. Fred can feel your walls tightening around his tongue as he continues to work on you. You grip his hair even tighter tilting his head back slightly allowing him a better angle. This slight change sends you over the edge as you pulsate around his mouth. He keeps going until you finish when he loosens his grip on you. Your hand let’s his hair go, shocked you didn’t pull any out.

You slowly rise up and shift to sit beside him, your back against the headboard. He turns onto his side and looks at you, his beard glistening from your juices. “Fuck you’re unbelievable” he says.

Still out of breath you can’t respond, he pulls your legs so you are lying on your back. He rolls over to be on top of you, placing light kisses on the neck causing you to moan lightly. You feel his hard member press into your stomach as he places kisses on your neck and chest.

He reaches over to the night stand and grabs a condom rolling it onto himself. He returns to you kissing you passionately as he lines himself up with you folds. He slowly pushes in you as you grip the bed sheets, you lightly bite his shoulder to supress your moans.

Fred reaches down and grabs one of your legs bringing it to his shoulder as he slowly thrusts “fuck your tight babe.” He keeps his slow pace allowing you to adjust, your head falls back “been a bit” you whisper. His pace begins to slowly speed up as he drops lower pushing your leg down closer to your chest, allowing him a deeper angle.

“Freddie” you moan as he continues, your hands raking his shoulders. Filthy sounds leaving your mouth, your skin flapping fill the bedroom “you feel so good babe” he whispers as he pushes deep inside you. “You gonna cum for me baby? Need to feel you” Fred says as you feel your walls tightening around him.

“So close” you say as you feel him becoming erratic. You bring a hand down to your sensitive bud and press circles on it as Fred continues to thrust into you. Fred pushes deep inside you, each thrust hitting your sweet spot.

You spasm as your walls tighten. Fred feels your walls tighten around him, as he continues to thrust inside you, you scream out his name. Fred doesn’t stop thrusting inside you as your orgasm continues. As you come back from your orgasm you feel Fred’s dick twitch as he spills into the condom before letting your leg go and collapses onto you.

You bring your hands up and start stroking his hair as you lay in the bed, him still inside you. Finally your breaths begin to return to normal as Fred looks to you, engaging you in a soft kiss.

He slowly pulls out as you shiver from the loss of contact. He goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and returns with a damp cloth and gently cleans you before finding you a t-shirt and putting it on over your head. He pulls you in to his arms as the two of you begin to doze off.

The next morning you wake up to a cold empty bed, the clock reads 7:50. You lay there trying to process what happened. Did you actually sleep with Fred? What about Danielle? He did say they weren’t serious, maybe they aren’t exclusive yet. You are alerted from your trance by the sounds if Oliver’s cries.

You put on your outfit from the night before and pull your hair into a messy bun before walking to the living room where you see you crying son in Fred’s arms.

“Somebody takes a couple steps and thinks they don’t need help anymore. He fell and hit his head on the table" Fred explains.

You kiss him on the head and rub it soothingly “guess we better get used that  now that he is learning to walk" you sigh.

“And he is a boy, they like to get in all kinds of trouble” Fred says poking  Oliver’s side to try and tickle him.

“Oh, his crying face breaks my heart" you say kissing his cheek again.

You walk over to your purse and get a small box with an envelope and hand it to Fred “Happy Birthday Daddy" you say placing the items on the counter.

Fred sits at the barstool and opens the card smiling “I see Oliver signed it" he says due to the crayon scribbles on the inside.

Next he opens the small box which has some silver cufflinks that are engraved with Oliver’s birthday.

“Wow these a perfect Ollie, it’s like you knew I needed a new pair. Thanks bud!” Oliver claps his hands as Fred places another kiss on his head before putting him down.

“Thanks" he says pulling you in for a hug.

“No problem Fred.”

You both sit there silently for a minute before you finally say “I should get going.”

Fred doesn’t say anything he just nods. You walk over and kiss Oliver goodbye before going to the door and putting your shoes on. You open the door and turn to Fred who pulls you in for a quick side hug before separating. When you are in the hall and moving towards the elevator you hear Fred’s door close and lock.

That felt weird, maybe he regretted last night you think to yourself as you step in the elevator.

Next Chapter

[citrinekay]

Modern setting. They have been together for a long time now but they haven't come out to the bureau. Holden wants to, but Bill is more reticent. It's not the right time, what if something happens to one of us, what if you don't like me anymore? Holden can't convince him but they love each other so that's more important. There's some company dance or gathering (or something) and Bill decides it's time and has the dj play one of Holden's fav songs and takes Holden's hand and they dance and kiss x

wah this is such a great prompt!!! Also, I’ve never done a modern setting with them before so this was fun! Hope you enjoy :) (and here’s the song I picked for them to dance to.)

“Do you think the tie is too much?” Holden asks, fiddling with the knot as he gazes critically at his reflection in the mirror. 

“It’s business casual, Holden.” Bill says, uttering a sigh as he leans back against the headboard of their bed. “Nobody else is going to be wearing a tie.”

Holden groans in frustration and yanks the tie from around his neck. 

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Bill suppresses the urge to not roll his eyes. He’s been dressed for fifteen minutes while Holden is still agonizing over what to wear to their department chief’s retirement party. They have this same conversation anytime they go anywhere together whether it’s dinner or the movies. Holden is wildly indecisive about unimportant things like which t-shirt to wear while being unimpeachably decided about a number of other things. 

“Just wear a polo.” Bill says, motioning to his own navy blue shirt. “It’ll be fine.”

Holden takes off his button up as he goes back to his closet to consult his choices. He drags his fingers across the row of shirts while he contemplates aloud, “I wonder if Wendy is bringing Kay.”

Bill draws in a deep breath as he dusts some non existent lint from his pant leg. There’s a pointed note in Holden’s voice, a question underlying the innocent pondering. A question they’ve been over only about ten times in the past week. Once Holden gets an idea in his head, it’s difficult for him to let go. 

“Probably.” Bill says, “Everyone got a plus one.”

“Including us.” Holden mutters, toying with the sleeve of a black knit sweater. 

Bill smashes his spent cigarette in the tray on the nightstand. “Are we really going to have this argument right now? While we’re trying to get ready to go? You’re gonna make us late.”

“Yeah, then everyone would notice that we’re arriving together.” Holden says, turning around to cast him an unperturbed glare. 

Bill longs for the days when a gruff tone of voice was enough to smother Holden’s simpering. No longer. They’re in a relationship now, and Holden is unbothered by his frustration, well aware that his bark is worse than his bite. 

Not too long ago, he’d been a sergeant in the Army. Where had all his authority gone to? 

Bill swings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands with a sigh. “Come on, let’s go. I’m not fighting with you about this right now.”

Holden’s petulant gaze follows him out of the room before cutting back to his closet. 

Ten minutes later he’s dressed in a gray pull-over sweater and black slacks. Bill motions him out the door, checking his watch with a flare of annoyance.  

Holden scrolls through his phone while Bill drives them to Quantico. Pushing aside his frustrations, Bill reaches a tentative hand across the space between them to touch his knee. Holden laces his fingers through Bill’s, but he doesn’t look up from his cell. 

Bill squeezes his fingers around the wheel. He feels like he should apologize for being short, but a flinching part of him hides fiercely behind prickly armor. He’s never outed himself to anyone. While Holden has been out and proud to most of their co-workers since the day they met, Bill has always kept his sexuality a secret. Even after a failed marriage to a woman, it’s difficult for him to look at Holden’s gay friends, a community of proud, loving individuals, without wondering if he’s some kind of fraud. He’d spent the first half of his life trying to live up to antiquated ideals set forth by his family, by the military, by the Bureau, and the idea of identifying to everyone around them that he’s just as gay as Holden and Wendy scares the hell out of him. 

But he can’t tell Holden that. He can’t say aloud that he’s scared more than anything else. The relationship is too new and fragile. What if they made their relationship public, and then realized how incompatible they really are? Bill’s cover would be blown forever, and for what? 

Bill glances across the car at Holden whose face is illuminated by the blue LED of his cellphone screen. For him. 

Holden looks up from his phone. “Wendy just posted on Instagram she’s bringing Kay.”

Bill clenches his jaw. Social media. Yet another affirmation by fire. 

“They’re adorable.” Holden observes, holding out the phone so that Bill can see the photo of Kay kissing Wendy’s cheek while Wendy gazes blissfully into the lens. 

“Yeah.” Bill says, averting his gaze back to the road. 

“You know,” Holden says, after a moment, “Wendy already knows. And probably so does half of the department.”

“What’s your point?” 

“My point is that nobody is judging us.” Holden says, “It’s 2019, Bill. People are getting more progressive, believe it or not. All it would really be is signing the consent form and-”

“I don’t want my relationship to be a matter of FBI record.” Bill says, “Is that too much to ask, Holden? That I don’t want to sign some paper saying we’re sleeping together?” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t see what the big deal is.” Holden says, “It’s just to avoid sexual harassment law suits. It’s just a precaution. It’s not some big declaration of your love for me.”

Silence settles on the car, and Bill disentangles his hand from Holden’s. His fingers are itching for a cigarette, but Holden complains every time he lights up in the car. 

“Okay.” Holden mutters, sounding wounded. “Maybe love was too strong of a word.”

“It isn’t, it’s just-” Bill says, the protest cutting off as his throat knots around the magnitude of honesty. 

Holden’s eyes are glazed blue in the flash of streetlamps speeding past them. His mouth purses softly as realization settles across his expression. For once, he shuts his mouth and turns his gaze back to his cellphone. 

When they reach Quantico, they walk across the crowded parking lot together. Bill checks his watch, noting that they’re five minutes late. 

The party is located in the dining hall where the fully stocked bar is already flowing with a variety of wines and cocktails. Bill makes a beeline for the whiskey while Holden immediately gets pulled into a lively conversation with some of their co-workers about the merits of psychology in horror films. 

Bill sips his whiskey in the corner while Holden mingles. He’s better at these shindigs than Bill, and it’s probably for the best that they mostly keep their distance tonight considering the conversation they just had. 

Bill swallows back his first drink and goes back to the bar for another. His stomach knots as he replays the discussion in his mind, every word marinating in the pit of fear opening up in the back of his mind. Watching Holden’s animated gesticulating from across the dining hall, he suddenly wonders whether or not he’s being ridiculous. Two other men in the discussion with Holden have their arms wrapped around each other. He wants to know what that feels like, holding onto Holden like he’s a prize deserving of being shown off rather than cowering in the corner for fear that someone might judge him. 

“Hey, Bill.” Wendy says, jolting him from his thoughts as she approaches. 

Kay is on her heels, fingers wrapped loosely around Wendy’s. 

“Hey.” Bill says, “How are you?”

“Good.” Wendy says, leaning in to give him a hug. “You look awfully lonesome standing over here by yourself.”

“They’re discussing horror films.” Bill says, motioning at Holden’s group of friends. “I’m not exactly up to par on the subject.”

Wendy chuckles, “Not a horror film junkie? I’m a little surprised.”

“I was in the Army.” Bill says, “I know what real horror looks like. The fake stuff is just … fake.”

Wendy nods, “I see. Still, I’m sure you would have something to contribute.”

Bill narrows his eyes. “You know I’m not a social butterfly, Wendy. Did Holden say something to you?”

Wendy cocks her head to one side curiously. “About what?”

“Never mind.” Bill says, cutting his glance away. 

Half an hour later, the catering service brings out dinner and bottles of champagne. The director makes a speech before wishing everyone a good night. Upbeat pop music thuds over the roar of conversation while the dinner plates are cleared away, and all the party attendees slouch over their cups. 

Bill leans back in his chair while Holden braces his elbows on the table, leaning into the conversation with other agents at their table. Bill watches the back of his head, the curve of his spine, his mouth smiling wildly as the alcohol is quick to get him tipsy. 

Something warm and humming wraps itself around his ribs, smothering whatever withering fear he’d carried into this evening. Maybe it’s the whiskey or the champagne. Maybe it’s the candlelight, and Holden’s hair gleaming like bronze in the low, yellow light. Maybe it’s his joy and radiance, everything about him that had drawn Bill in like a moth to the flame, forcing him to lay down his insecurities at the threshold of their relationship and plunge ahead with nothing but each other to hold onto. Now all that’s standing in the way is Bill’s stubbornness of a piece of goddamn paper. A signature, a declaration - because truly, that’s what it is. 

Across the table, one of the other agents, Jared,  is vividly recounting him and his boyfriend’s weekend escapade at the gay strip club. Holden doubles over the table in laughter as the story gets more and more wild, perhaps embellished a bit. 

“You should come with us next time.” Jared says, “I know you would be a lot of fun.”

“Ah, I don’t know.” Holden says, running anxious fingers through his hair. “I don’t think my boyfriend would like it.”

Bill shifts uncomfortably in his chair, wondering if the rest of the group can see his face getting unbearably hot.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.” Jared says. 

“Yeah, um, it’s kind of new.” Holden says, his tone dwindling. “It’s not like … official or whatever.”

 Jared raises his eyebrows. “But he’s already telling you what to do.”

“What, no.” Holden says, sharply. “I’m just being respectful of boundaries.”

“Okay, sure.” Jared says, shrugging. “But you should really come with one of these days. It’s a helluva lot more fun than this party.”

Bill clears his throat. “I’m going to step outside for a cigarette.”

Holden’s gaze cuts sharply over his shoulder, eyes speaking a number of racing questions even as his mouth purses anxiously. 

Bill shoves his chair back, and escapes the stifled atmosphere of the party. Outside, the bassline of the music thuds a distant vibration while the blue sky lapses into melted purples and pinks of sunset. 

Sliding a cigarette to the corner of his mouth, Bill lights up and draws in a deep breath. Nicotine floods his strung-out veins while Holden’s voice echoes in his mind. It’s not official. Well, that makes it sound like some kind of quick and dirty hookup. Bill flinches at the thought. 

He takes his time smoking his cigarette, thinking and vacillating, shivering and pushing aside his fears. 

He has a lot to lose. His pride, for one. His standing as a military veteran. His position as a father trying to co-parent with his ex-wife. His own self-identity. It’s all at stake while Holden, already out to the world, has nothing to lose. 

The only thing they both stand to lose is each other.  The thought strikes him as if it had dropped out of the clear blue sky. 

Dropping his cigarette to the ground, Bill turns and marches back into the dining hall. 

The music has quieted down as couples migrate to the open floor at the middle to slow dance in muted, half-drunk intimacy. Piano notes tinkle across the speakers just before the Penguins begin to croon “Earth Angel.” 

Bill scans the room for Holden, quickly picking him out of the crowd. He shoulders his way past clusters of agents and department heads, muttering apologies in his haste. As he approaches, Holden glances up from his conversation, and their eyes meet from across the room. 

Holden’s wide blue eyes regard him with a faint frustration that quickly melts into hopeful longing when he sees the look on Bill’s face. His mouth slips partially open, tongue running anxiously across his lower lip. 

Bill jolts back into motion. Closing the few yards of distance between them, he shoulders his way into the circle of Holden’s friends. 

“Excuse me.” He mutters, ignoring Jared’s glare of disbelief as he grabs Holden’s hand.

“Bill-” Holden begins, his tone colored with surprise. 

“Can I have this dance?” Bill asks, nodding at the floor where half a dozen other couples are wrapped in warm embraces. 

Holden blinks in shock for a moment before a smile creeps at the corner of his mouth, quickly evolving into a excited grin. 

“Yes.” He says, fingers wrapping around Bill’s. “Yes, you can.”

Grasping tightly on Holden’s hand, Bill leads them away from the group, all of whom are standing still with their mouths open in growing disbelief. As they reach the dance floor, Bill hears one of them break the silence with a shout of encouragement. 

“Are you sure about this?” Holden asks as Bill pulls him around against his chest. 

“No.” Bill says, reaching down to grab Holden’s hand, and bring it up into position. 

“I don’t know how to dance. Do you?”

“It’s slow dancing.” Bill says, tightening his palm against Holden’s lower back. “Here, just lean against me and sway. That’s all there is to it.”

“That’s all there is to it?” Holden echoes, his mouth tipping with mild amusement. 

“Hey, you can gloat later.” Bill says, “Just let me have this.”

“Okay.” Holden says, leaning in closer. 

He nudges his nose hesitantly against Bill’s, asking for yet another boundary to be crossed. 

Ignoring the stares of people around them, Bill leans in to place a chaste kiss against Holden’s questing mouth. 

Holden closes his eyes, humming a sigh of relief. 

Bill chuckles a small, choked laugh. He buries his face in Holden’s neck, hiding the sting of tears in his eyes. Holden’s body leans into him, so close that he can feel the beats of their hearts connecting. The music swells over the speakers: Earth angel, earth angel. I’m just a fool in love. In this moment, Bill doesn’t care whether he looks like a fool or not - to himself, to their co-workers, hell even their bosses. Maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow still afraid of what signing some silly relationship disclosure form means, but for tonight, this dance is declaration enough.

[hasufin]

On expectations

Just saw someone posting on Twitter about their new job and how they’re supposed to dress:

How you’re comfortable - “business casual”

It makes me think of some of my own anxieties.

See, the thing about “business casual” is, it has no meaning. I think the idea is that it’s “less formal than business suits but more formal than t-shirts and jeans” and to the person who coined the term that meant a specific and clear part of their wardrobe.

But to the rest of us.... ????

As a man, I’m left wondering. Jeans are probably not okay. Boomers have this weird hangup about jeans and they should probably seek treatment for it, but with a certain subset of them anyone wearing jeans causes seething rage. No matter than jeans are usually imminently practical and nobody has ever come up with a coherent reason why jeans are bad while slacks are good.

So, there’s that. T-shirts are out, but what about polo shirts? Are button-down shirts okay? All my long-sleeved dress shirts are French cuff (I like cuff links!) but that’s clearly too formal. Short-sleeved button-down shirts... I’m sorry, I can’t wear those without feeling like a nerd stereotype. And then there’s the matter of tie or no tie. A well-tied tie, with a comfortable shirt, is not terrible at all, but it’s definitely too hot in the summer. Some places say “Though shalt wear a tie” and others “Ties are inherently formal and we said CASUAL!”. And then, shoes. Like jeans, sneakers cause an atavistic rage in some people and it’s usually best to not provoke them. The supposed alternative is formal dress shoes, which are absolutely stupid pieces of footwear which manage to be less practical than flip-flops, somehow. My compromise has always been well-polished black low-top hiking boots. They look like not-very-fashionable but entirely unobtrusive dress shoes... but they’re comfortable, have arch support, and traction. But gods know if they’re actually okay under anything like scrutiny.

And this is just the mess of uncertainty “business casual” offters to men. To women? All bets are off. My wife has been told she dresses too formal for wearing slacks and a cami... which is to say, pants and a t-shirt, but because she wears mostly black it’s “formal”.

What this all comes to is, “business casual” is this vague thing and while there are rules, those rules are not being communicated. You know you’ll get in trouble for violating them, but you don’t actually know what they are. Most people end up finding a set formula which they know won’t violate the unknown rules, and they stick very strictly to that. It ends up functioning as a better means of self-policing than an actual dress code could ever hope for. Fear of recrimination is vastly more effective than rules.

[paulvibe]

Just Friends - Part 7 (Paul McCartney x Reader)

Words: 3.2K

Warnings: Minor Sexual Themes

Summary: Paul, finally, shows you the farm

A/N:  Thank y’all so much for reading! I’m planning to write 2 more chapters, one being the final and then an epilogue. I sincerely hope that you all loved this story. It’s been fun to write, not only fueling my Paul love, but yours also. <3

A MONTH LATER

Fall had now fully come into effect. It had been a wonderful summer, so many events came and happened. Mostly happy, some sad. It was nice though, for the weather to start simmering down. You loved the summer, but there was always something so special about Autumn. The air was more crisp, and every step you took was followed by the sound of a crunching leaf. You also started to incorporate fall pastries into your bakery, so, more business was filtering in due to pumpkin pies and warm apple cider.

Over the past month, since your father's funeral, you threw yourself back into work. You worked overtime at the bakery, making up for the lost sales. You had also been working more to keep up your promise to your mother- to send money back to home to help with your siblings. Mom had also told you that Cindy started working at a diner to help with the bills, and David tended to the neighbors gardens. Each family member was pitching in and doing their part to help. It was sad that it took your father's passing to finally bring all of you together, but it is what it is.

Paul had also gotten swept back into work. He worked long hours at the studio, recording and writing for his new album. It was hard, to not see Paul, but you two talked on the phone the days he couldn’t make it to visit. Ever since the two of you showered together, the feelings you tried to deny were too strong to fight. It was a long time coming, I mean, there was moments before you were naked together that you had realized those feelings. But now, you finally acknowledged them. You were inevitably, undeniably, in love with him.

The thought of him brought butterflies to your stomach, it would cause you to smile and bite your lip. You would find yourself drifting off thinking, no- dreaming about what life would be like if you were together. You dreamt of the family home, the domestic lifestyle. Making breakfast for him in the mornings, dinner in the evenings. You get the drift. Sometimes you would get so caught up in these fantasies you would forget about the customer, waiting to be served.

The cool morning light peeled it’s way through your curtains, casting across the room. It was a Sunday, which meant the bakery was closed. You sighed, and threw the covers off yourself, getting up to stretch. It’d been a week since you last saw Paul. He was busy recording, which was unfortunate. However, you were also busy at the bakery. You looked at your alarm clock, reading 9:23 A.M. You made your way to the kitchen and set on a pot of coffee, and put a bagel into the toaster. You then opened your apartment door, grabbing the newspaper. You scanned the sections before one headline caught your attention.

PAUL’S NEW LOVER?

What? You read the sentence over and over again. It echoed throughout your brain as you frantically flipped to the page containing the article. A picture of Paul and Linda covered nearly a full page.

“...McCartney was seen last Wednesday with Linda Eastman wrapped around his arm. Will the former lovers rekindle that spark?...”

You tossed the paper onto the counter top, feeling a lump in your throat form. You were an idiot, of course Paul wasn’t in love with you. You two were just friends, and were to remain that way forever. You felt stupid, angry, betrayed. It’s not like you two were dating, nobody had made that clear. Your conscience stepped in, trying to calm you down. He had even talked to you about how their relationship just didn’t work out, they were always fighting about this and that. There had to have been a reason that he was with Linda, I mean, her father was his manager for god sakes.

You still couldn’t push past the picture. She was smiling up at him, while he smiled into the cameras. Her arms were wrapped around one of his, and they seemed to be walking together outside the studio. That should’ve been me. You thought, feeling a deep cavern form in your chest. You bit your lip and shook your head, trying to force the tears back into your eyes. It was stupid, it was like seeing all those pictures of him and Jane. You felt like a teenager again.

As if on cue your telephone rang, you knew it was Paul. You sighed, wiped your eyes and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey Love.” You loved how his voice sounded over the phone, so soft and always eager. It made you want to jump into his arms, but your heart was reminded of the picture with Linda wrapped around him.

“Hey, Paul.” You said softly, mixing creamer into your coffee. You could fake it, right? That you weren’t hurt? It’s a tabloid, you kept reminding yourself.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking. Would you like to come over?” Paul hadn’t invited you to his house since, ever. This would be the first time. You always thought it was strange, the fact he hadn’t invited you over.

“Um, Paul, I’m feeling a little under the weather.” You said, cringing with each word that came out. You were letting that stupid article get to you. Internally you knew that you were doing that self-sabotage thing you do. As soon as something wonderful happens to you, you ruin it for yourself.

“Come feel under the weather with me.” He spoke so smoothly. Maybe that how he charmed Linda back into his arms.

“That’s very sweet of you, but-”

“I’m sending the car over. I expect to see you soon.” Okay. So, there was no getting around this.You huffed, slamming the creamer back onto the counter a little hard.

“Fine.” You gave in, though you were finding it hard to be excited. Stupid article. You needed to find out the truth from Paul.

“Lovely, I’ll see you soon, Kitty.”  With that, the dial tone signaled. That nickname always sent you over the edge. You wished he’d whisper it in your ear with a string of sweet-nothings. You groaned, wiping your face with your hands and then grudgingly getting dressed.

The driver showed up an half an hour after Paul called, and so started the adventure to Paul’s house. You didn’t even know he’d settled in Scotland until you pulled up to the home. Once past the gate, a gorgeous stone house came into view. Vines had grown up the sides of the home, and the stone work was covered with moss spots. A small garden patch was planted in front of the home, and you could see various vegetables growing. A few barns stood past the home out in a field and a handful of horses grazed the grass. You were awestruck; Paul lived in a medieval fairy tale home. Something you’d always dreamed of, in fact you talked about it with him when you were children. He always boasted about having a mansion with seven maids when he grew old.

The driver parked, and you thanked him whilst climbing out. Immediately sinking your foot into a puddle of mud. You groaned and pulled your shoe out with a shluck! sound.

“Oh, I should’ve told you it’d be muddy.” You heard Paul say. You looked up, your eyes drinking in the sight of him. He stood with his hands in his pockets and an amused smile on his face. He was wearing a basic long sleeve polo shirt with jeans and tall rubber boots spackled with mud. You sighed dreamily, he looked so good.

“That would’ve been nice.” You said dryly, snapping out of your dream state and stepping away from the mud.

“Welcome to the McCartney Estate.” He boasted, arms wide with a wide smile on his face. “I’ve been wanting to bring you here for a while.” He greeted you, and let you wrap an arm around his so you wouldn’t step or slip in any more mud. “Tour? Followed by breakfast?”

“Sure.” You said, checking your wrist watch. It was 10:37 in the morning, and you hadn’t had coffee yet; even though you did make some. You might as well get through the tour, though you’d be thinking about breakfast the whole time.

He lead you into the home, and took off his boots setting them aside. He also asked you to take off your mud soaked shoes as well. You looked around the home, absolutely astonished at how beautiful it was inside. A large kitchen was straight across from the living room, equipped with a fireplace and television. The bathroom stood down the hall, along with the backdoor of the house. A staircase in the living room led up to the bedrooms; 4 of them. He showed you around each room all of which were clean and tidied. He then took you to the basement and showed you the basic recording setup he had.

“Paul, this home is beautiful. You waited over three months to show me?!” You exclaimed, lightly punching his arm. He mocked hurt and rubbed his arm.

“Well, I was remodeling.” He defended as you two made your way back to the kitchen and living room. Breakfast had already been made, by someone who probably wasn’t Paul, and sat neatly across the counter-top. There were pancakes, fresh fruit, sausages and bacon, as well as syrup and whipped cream. Paul, being a gentleman, fixed you a plate with a little bit of everything and sat you down at the table.

“Paul, what’s all this for?” You asked, feeling slightly suspicious as to why he was making such a big deal over this.

“Can’t I just make you breakfast?” He had a slight hesitation before he replied. He fixed himself a plate and then he sat down in a seat across from yours. You assumed that was the best answer you were to get out of him, and just enjoyed your breakfast. He’d even gotten you a cup of coffee. Paul watched as you ate, feeling happy. This is how it should be, you in his home, eating breakfast slightly grumpy. He smiled warmly at the thought of you two waking up together, making breakfast, you complaining about this and that. Spending your days tending to the farm, feeding the chickens, riding the horses.

After breakfast, he gave you a pair of too big rubber boots and he showed you the farm. He owned three horses, all named something obscure. He also owned two pigs, five chickens, and even two goats. Each had their own pen, and small shelter. There was a large barn that held a small tractor, and a few bales of hay. It also harbored the other animals feed.

“I always remembered how you wanted to live on a farm.” Paul spoke softly, watching you spread the chicken feed. He thought you looked adorable in his spare pair of boots, that were indeed much to big for your feet. His heart warmed at the thought of this becoming a regular thing, tending to the animals together. Of course, you’d have your own size rubber boots by that time.

“I told you that when we were so young.” You spoke, setting the pan of seed down onto a nearby fence post. You looked up at him now. He had a look of adoration, leaning up against the chicken coop. Had Paul bought this home and farm for you? That’s just a ridiculous thought.

“(Y/N), I have something to confess.” He said after a few moments of consideration. You watched his face carefully, trying to assess what he was about to say. Did it have to do with Linda? “I- I’ve been feeling this way for a while.”

Oh god. Here it comes. He loves Linda. They’re back together, and she’s pregnant. You know it. Your chest tightened with each moment he didn’t speak. He was fiddling with one of the gate latches.

“I saw the article Paul.” You interrupted to him, not waiting to hear what he was going to say. You kicked some mud off your too big boots, and then looked up to see his reaction.

“Article?” He looked at you puzzled, now standing up straight.

“With you and Linda. I know. I know that you were with her.” You blurted. “I saw it in the newspaper this morning. You two, wrapped around each other looking happy go lucky. The picture was dated from three days ago.” Paul still looked at you puzzled. He shook his head, and ran his hand through his hair. You looked back down at the ground, feeling that gaping hole in your chest only grow in size. Him not answering only confirmed your fears. Well, you had a lovely run. As friends.

“I get it, we’re just friends. Paul, I- I-” You started, but Paul was quick to interrupt.

“No, you Idiot.” Your eyes raced to meet up with his, giving you a slight crick in your neck. “I’m in love with you.”

You gasped as the cavern in your chest immediately filled. Warmth filled your body, bringing feeling back into your fingers and toes. If you were holding something, you probably would’ve dropped it.

Paul’s body quickly wrapped around yours, as he rested both of his hands on the sides of your face, pulling you in for a kiss. You kissed him back, just a fiercely as he did to you. You grabbed his shirt by the sides and pulled him flush against you. It was like a typical, cheesy romantic movie. The kiss felt like twenty fireworks had been set off at once. Love was in the air; the cool, Autumn air.

“I love you too.” You managed to stumble out once you both broke for air. Happy tears stung your eyes. “I’ve loved you since I was 14.”

His hands slid down your back, now holding you tightly. He rested his forehead against yours, smiling softly. It was beautiful, with the chill Autumn air and sunshine billowing down onto you. The ambiance of the farm added to the romance.

“I knew the second I met you.” He spoke.

“You were eight years old.” You chuckled, kissing him again.

“I know a good bird when I meet one.” He winked. You shook your head with a giggle. You didn’t want to kill the moment, but you still had to ask what Paul was doing with Linda the other day. It was eating you up. If he loved you, then why would he be spending time with his Ex-Girlfriend.

“Paul, can I ask,” You paused, biting your lip, “What were you doing with Linda the other day?” You spoke softly, stepping out of his embrace.

“She was taking promotional pictures for the new album.” He replied. It didn’t even occur to you that Linda was a photographer, and her father was Paul’s manager. Of course. You’re an idiot, jumping to the worst conclusions.

“...Right.” You finally said, which a short laugh. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.” You kicked a few rocks, looking at your giant booted feet. Pauls hand gently grabbed your chin as he directed your attention up to him. He then kissed your forehead, and wrapped one arm around your waist.

“You know believing those stupid tabloids is rookie mistake number one.” Paul joked, finishing off with a quick peck to your lips. You savored the moment, being here with Paul. You knew at some point your Romantic-Comedy movie moment had to end. You wished it could be like this forever, but of course tomorrow you’d have to return to the bakery, and Paul would return to the studio.

“What will your fans think? Of us? I mean, You’re the last bachelor of the Beatles. I’m sure a lot of girls are going to be very disappointed.” You spoke up, while you and Paul walked back to the house. His hand held yours and it made you feel giddy. Sure, you’d been holding hands before but now there was meaning behind it and it was different.

“They’ll have to deal. I love you. Period.” He said, you could hear the happiness in his voice. It gave you butterflies. It’s crazy how three simple words could change your whole life. You two winding up together was such a fairy-tale moment.

You looked around at his vast property before entering the home. The chill air was starting to get to you, and you shivered slightly before the warmth of the fireplace brought you back to life. You poured yourself another cup of coffee, took off those ridiculous boots, and sat on the couch that was near the fire. Paul joined you a moment later, wrapping his arm behind you. You sighed, resting your head onto his shoulder. This is how life should have always been. You two should’ve been together years ago. However, if you did get together years ago he’d probably be working a dead end job, and you’d be a simple housewife.

“Do you want to know a secret?” Paul asked, after you two had been warmed back up by the fire. You adjusted your sitting position to look at him better.

“Yes, you know I love gossip.” You smiled wide. He laughed at your comment.

“I used to live in London, when we first reconnected. I-” He paused, a smiling interrupting his speech, “I bought this home and farm shortly after our first dinner. I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my days with you. I never forgot all those rantings of you dreaming about owning a small farm, growing vegetables, raising animals.”

“Do you want me to cry?” You spoke, a happy tear running down your cheek. You laughed shortly and kissed him hard, straddling his lap. He rested his hands on your hips, occasionally grabbing your bum as you kissed. No, you two hadn’t had sex before. Though as teenagers there were a few close calls. Mostly being drunk from going to parties, especially after Paul joined The Quarrymen.

You two kept kissing, each one getting more hot and heavy. Paul was now firmly holding onto your bum, while your fingers were tangled in his hair. You could feel him progressively getting turned on, his hips occasionally coming up to meet yours. You would break the kisses with soft moans, which only fueled Paul to continue. He grabbed you tightly and flipped the two of you so he was now on top of you on the couch. He quickly helped you get rid of your sweater, leaving you in jeans and a bra.

“God, I’ve forgotten how gorgeous your chest is.” He muttered, littering your chest and the tops of your breasts with kisses, occasionally leaving a love bite. You continuously ran your fingers through his hair, moaning at the sensations of him. Paul sat up straight and took his long-sleeve off, revealing his torso. You bit your lip, running your hands all across his chest. You’d always been sexually attracted to Paul, who wasn’t?

“Do y’want to go up to the bedroom, Kitty?” He whispered in your ear. His accent getting heavy. You feverishly nodded, and the two of you stood up, practically running up the stairs and to the master bedroom.

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Taglist: @starlight-and-moonshine @tarantinoandmetal @brifilm @yllwtaxi I love you all <3

[klanced-against-my-will-blog]

Drunken Mistakes

by klanced-against-my-will

Note: this is my first fan fiction, so let’s be nice, okay? 

CHAPTER ONE

I didn't hate Keith Kogane. It's just that I highly disliked what his existence represented. It had always interfered with my success. Our grades had always been neck to neck from the moment we were first put in the same class in 6th grade. As fate would have it against me, we had been in the same classes in all the years to follow, even the optional ones. It was annoying, really. Our mutual friends -- I'll get to them later­ -- often teased us about our long-lasting feud. Maybe they were right, but I always felt like it was a part of my everyday life. A routine of teasing and bickering and bragging and fighting. Everything became a competition between us two. Grades. Soccer performance. Drinking. We had even both came out within a month of each other -- that one was unfortunate and unplanned. Learning that he was gay had only made me even more frustrated. He was even better at being gay than me, the boring bisexual. Like, we get it! You're an over-achiever! So yeah, of course, we had mutual friends. We had friends of our own, but the astronomy club was common ground. There was Hunk, my best friend and most genuine guy ever. Never far behind him was Pidge, the little tech nerd and meme expert of the gang. They were always hacking something our inventing software. Shiro and Allura were a couple of too pretty to be real lovebirds that always came as an item. But our club was soon to be disintegrated by the end of our high school careers. I was currently rereading my last test of the senior year for the second time, making sure that no mistake had slipped in. I was anxious for the evening. Our lame school didn't have a prom, so Ben Richards, the heir of some pharmaceutical empire, was opening his lake house to the whole promotion. The dress code was "Anything that wouldn't get you laid." Kind of dumb, but I loved it. "Okay, pencils down. You're done with high school, people," said the bored teacher sitting at the desk at the front of the class. We all jumped of happiness, screaming. I ran to the hallway, my eyes searching for curly blond hair. "Lance!”

I turned around just as Nyma tied her arm around my neck, kissing me.  I kiss her back, my hands on her hips. We had been dating for about ten months now and seeing her face never stopped being a breath of fresh air. 

She broke away from my face, the screaming around us feeding her smile. "We did it! We freaking did it, Lancelot!" She was the only one to call me that, saying that I was her "knight in shining armor." "Finally!" I laughed. "We are staying in touch even if you are going to Spain, right?" "I don't know, you tell me, Ny. Are sure you can live without my sweet presence in your life?" "I know I could," interrupted a voice beside me. My head jolting to the left, I frowned at the mulleted head that was unlocking a locker. "We didn't ask for your opinion, Charlie Sheen." "Well, how about you don't make out with your girlfriend in front of my locker and I won't give it to you, Mclain?" He had turned around to face me at this point, a smirk dancing on his stupid face. Man was he pale! "You don't own the hallway, assbutt!" "And you don't own the rights to Supernatural and here we are!" Nyma pulled on my sleeve. "Lance, let's just go, he's not worth it." Keith gave her a bad look like he wanted to punch her or something. "Oh, by the way, Nyma, I heard that Rolo was looking for you." She blushes a bit, pulling me harder. "Thanks. I'll find him later." I gave Keith a dark look and followed her, wondering where his animosity for Nyma was coming from. "So, let's go to your place." Shaking the feeling away, I lighted up and took her hand in mine. "Yes. Of course. Did I tell you that Marco agreed to buy us beers?" Her smile was back. "Great!" *** It was almost one AM, and I was positively on the verge of being shitfaced. I was currently grinding on the dance floor/grass to Destiny's Childs' Bootylicious like no one was watching. Surely I looked like an idiot with my gelled hair, brown polo buttoned all the way up, high white cargo shorts, white socks, and yellow sandals, but I couldn't bring myself to care in a crowd full of people looking exactly the same. So I was dancing with Hunk because he was always down to move his imposing body. Plus, it helped that he was as drunk as me.  All my friends were here, scattered around the house and garden, talking to people they had never talked to with the desperation of the end, scared of missing out on knowing these people. I didn't bother. Most people already had their preconceived ideas of me. True, I was obnoxious and somewhat loud and a little absurd, but I liked to think that it was part of my charm. I sipped my sangria, careful not to spill it while dancing. "Dude, this is the best party ever," screamed Hunk to cover the music. "Agreed!" And that was all that was to say. We didn't want to talk about the fact that it was also the last party ever. That was too depressing to think about. A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind, turning me around. It was Shiro. I smiled at him before noticing the frown on his face. "What's wrong?" "I can't find Allura," he yelled in my ear. I nodded, walking out of the dancing crowd, Hunk on my heels. "Let's look for her. I'll cover the west side of the house, Shiro you go east and Hunk, look for her outside, make sure to go to the beach, she might have gone for a swim with Pidge. They can be pretty convincing." Happy with my plan, they scattered in their respective direction. I looked for Nyma for a second. I had last seen her sitting by the bonfire with her friend Sandy. She wasn't there anymore. I didn't think much of it. She was a pretty independent girl, always very confident in herself. That was what had drawn me in at first. I decided to start with the upper floor, wobbling a little in the stair. There are people pretty much everywhere, all looking more undateable than the other. I opened door after door, but people making out was the only greeting I got. No Beauty queen with silver hair. I got down to the first floor and knocked on the door of the bathroom. The door opened on Allura, the front of her shirt dripping water. "Hey, princess! What happened to you?" "Belinda dropped her rum and coke on me," she giggled, her face flushed. I could tell that she was tipsy. "Well, you got Shiro looking everywhere for you. You should go tell him you are okay. He's somewhere in the east wing." She smiled, hugging me. Yeah, she was a pretty cuddly drunk. "Thanks, Lance! You're a pearl to behold!" With that, she let go of me and walked towards her boyfriend. "Stop that!," I heard, coming from the next room. This part of the house wasn't nearly as loud, allowing me to recognize Nyma's voice. Intrigued by her giggles, I opened the door behind me. It took my brain a second to catch up on what it was seeing. The living room was well lit, the white furniture and abundance of mirrors making it look like a spaceship. To be honest, that wasn't the part that shocked me. A boy was laying on the couch, a girl toping him. She was chuckling as he kissed her neck, her hands under his shirt. I'm not sure why, but in that moment, I wasn't mad. I stayed completely calm and coughed loudly twice. Nyma's smile disappeared in an instant, her eyes going wide as she looked at me. "Lance!" "Good observation skills, Nyma. But I think mines are better. I observe that we are, in fact, over. You can go back to your making out, now." "No! It's not... It's not what you think!" she claimed, standing up and readjusting her clothes. I ticked at that. "I might be single now, but I was never stupid, Nyma. Goodbye." She screamed after me, as I walked out, still too calm for the situation. My head felt fuzzy and I didn't know what to do. I walked into the ballroom -- yes, this house had a freaking ballroom-- and my heart stopped as people were everywhere around me. My breathing became harsh. I couldn't really see faces, my eyes flashing back to Nyma's hands on Rolo's chest. The pulse of the music cracked in my stomach. Yep. I was having a panic attack. "Hey! watch where you're going, idiot!" said a voice as I collided with a solid body. Turning around, I saw Keith's pale face. I had never been this happy to see him. He was familiar. He could help. Surely he didn't hate me enough to not help me, right? I couldn't say anything, so I just stared at him, mouth and eyes wide. He frowned and seemed to catch up pretty fast, grabbing my wrist and tracing the way out of the crowd. He led me out of the house, grabbing a bottle of whiskey on some forgotten table. He didn't stop outside, didn't stop at the edge of the wood, didn't stop when it became so dark that I couldn't see my own feet. He only stopped on the verge of a calm stream, helping me hike onto a big rock, sitting beside me. "There. Now you can freak out. Nobody's here. Nobody to judge." And freak out I did. I sobbed like a crazy person, unable to breathe properly, scratching my arms up and down, unbuttoning my polo to feel less caged. He didn't say anything, just sat there beside me, sipping whiskey from the bottle and looking at the water. I knew he was no stranger to panic attacks. What I didn't know was that he was good at handling them. After what felt like an eternity, my sobs calmed down and I took deep breaths in, looking at my surroundings to distract myself.   The moon was full, giving us enough light to see the stream and the trees around us. The crickets were going at it like crazy, but other than that, the silence was total. "Better?" said, Keith, breaking the peace. "Yeah... Thanks..." I whispered, not sure of how to act. We were never ones to talk about stuff. But at that moment I wanted to tell him everything. "So... What happened? You saw yourself in a mirror?" I chuckled. "You're one to talk. Did you not know the theme, or did you rebel against it?" He was wearing a tuxedo, and I wouldn't have told anyone ever, but he looked damn good in it. "I never get laid anyway. You're the only other somewhat gay guy at school and we're not about to fuck, are we?" "Sadly, no." We both laughed. Hard. Because we were drunk and this situation was ridiculous. My laugh turned to tears, my hand covering my face. "I caught her making out with Rolo." "I knew it!" I turned towards him, confused. "What do you mean you knew?" He looked guilty for a second. "Well, I saw them together in the park last Sunday... I didn't think much of it at first, but then I heard him talking about Nyma in the cafeteria. He wasn't being really respectful, let's just say that. And I may or may not have punched him for talking shit..." "Wait, you punch the guy?" "Well, he was being an asshole and, I don't know, it got the best of my nerves. Could have been worse though. I could have stabbed him. Principal Zarkon gave me an essay to do about unnecessary violence." I couldn't believe it. He had punched a guy to protect her honor. Or my honor, in some way. I stared at him, his face a little shy like he was embarrassed by what he had done. "Thank you, Keith." He had a small smile before turning to face the stream. He took another sip from the bottle. "You know, I think I can count on two hands how many times you've called me by my actual first name in seven years." I snatched the whiskey from him. "Well, that's because your name is stupid." I downed a big slump of liquor, the heat of it burning my throat. "Now my name is stupid?" "Yeah, you just need a middle name like Karen or some shit and you'll have the initial of a racist group." "KKK?" "Hey! You have a brain under that mullet!" We laughed. He had a nice laugh and I asked myself how I had never noticed that. "So... Nyma and Rolo." I felt my chest tightened. "Yes. I dumped her." "Good decision. You deserve better than being cheated on." I raised an eyebrow at him, surprise. "I mean... Everyone deserves better than that, obviously... what I meant to was that I sorry you had to endure that." That's when the thought first crossed my mind. Keith's lips look very kissable. "Lance...? You okay, dude?" I looked back to his eyes. I blamed the next events on the alcohol. "Keith, have you ever kissed a boy?" "What? That's none of your business, Mclain." He turned away, putting his frowning profile to me. I turned toward the stream too. Silence fell for a second. "I've never kissed a boy. Like you said, you're my only prospect and... well, we've always been too preoccupied with beating each other in every way possible to actually make an effort to like each other," I confessed. "I've had people tell me that I wasn't really bi if I had never kissed a boy. Which is stupid." He turns back to me for a second. "Do you think... no, nevermind." "What is it?" "I said never mind." "And I said 'what is it.' Spit it out already." He chewed on his lip, playing with the label of the bottle. "Do you ever think... that we should have been friends? That we missed out on knowing each other because we were so caught up in fighting to be the best?" I tilted my head, looking at him like it was the first time that I saw him. He was still bitting his lip. His hair was brushed back away from his face, and it was too dark to see the purple of his eyes. He looked as pale as ever. His words turned in my mind. He was right. Absolutely right. I mean, we were in all the same classes, club, and sports team, had a lot of friends and interests in common. Our egos were the only thing keeping us away. "You're right." He blinked twice, surprised that I was agreeing with him for once. "Shocking, I know," I whispered to preserve the quiet of the moment. And then, probably because of the half bottle of whiskey sitting in his stomach, Keith leaned over, closing his eyes, putting his lips on mine. I wouldn't say it was unexpected. I would say it was awkward. We didn't move our lips for a beat too long, only resting our mouth against one another. I didn't close my eyes, too stunned and drunk to react properly. My heart was beating like crazy in my ears, my face hot and body stiffed. I was kissing Keith. Well, I wouldn't really have called it kissing. My lips were touching Keith's. Yeah, that's more accurate. He pulled away, opening his eyes and frowning. "That was... a horrible first kiss." Snapping out of my stupor, I raised my eyebrows. "You took me by surprise. Had I known, I would have shown you a better time!" He chuckled. "Ya, right." That got my pride boiling. I was average in a lot of things, but not kissing. I was a fantastical kisser. "I would have you known that I'm a great kisser." "Yeah, that's why Nyma cheated on you. Because you were too good of a kisser. It was too much for her." That got the wind knocked out of me.   Instant regret showed on his face. "Sorry, too soon. That was just mean." I was getting angry, I could feel it turning in my stomach with the liquor. I am an impulsive person. That's no surprise. But what I did next came as a shock to both of us. I extended my hand and grabbed the back of his head, smashing his lips on mine. I did not stay still this time. I started really kissing Keith, and he played along eagerly after the initial shock of my actions. He grabbed my upper arm and my collar, bringing me closer to him. I put my hand on his hip as the other one was tugging on his mullet.  Our mouths were at war, fighting to make sure the other knew that we weren't going to stop first. I bit his bottom lip and he groaned, pulling away to catch his breath. I didn't let him go far and kissed his jaws, his throat, his collarbone, his ear, my tongue and teeth running on every bit of skin they could. "Lance..." Him moaning my name made a string inside of me snap, burying any self-control I had deep in the back of my mind. I pulled myself onto him, my tights straddling his, his lips back on mine in a heartbeat, my tongue darting into his mouth, tasting the whiskey. His arms went around me to keep me against him, my hands around his neck. He tugged on my shirt to free it from my belt, the tip of his fingers sending shivers down my spine as the brushed against the small of my back. "What the fuck are we doing..." I whispered, pulling away for air. Trees were spinning in my vision, my stomach flinching and my head feeling dizzy. Keith wasn't having it, pulling my shirt away and biting my shoulder. Hard. "Keith, I think I'm gonna..." I unwrapped my arms from his neck and pulled myself from his laps, barely reaching the edge of the rock before emptying my stomach. "Oh, my God, Lance, are you okay?" I turned to lay on my back, the moon above me letting me see the shape of his head, but not any of his features. "I think I had too much to drink." And on that note, I passed out.

Okay, thanks for reading! Part 2 and 3 are already written, I’m just waiting to see what people think of this first chapter before posting them. 

Also, I know Shallura isn’t a thing, but Adam wasn’t in our lives when I wrote this. We’ll see what the futur holds...

[andy-clutterbuck]

Enduring Love | 2004

[transbutts]

My apologies if this has been mentioned already but do any of you have any tips on how to pull off "men's" clothes? Especially when you're very small in stature? I have a few shirts that I think I can pull off but I'm always a little worried that I look kinda dumb cause they're a little too long. Should I just shop in the "boy's" section instead?

Hey there. So I have this issue too (I am 5’0”). And it’s a big pain but a way I get around this is exactly what you suggested. Buying clothes in the boys’ section. I found that really helps especially when I want to get nicer looking shirts (button ups, polos, just nicer shirts). You can get regular ole t-shirts in that aisle too, which I do a lot primarily because it’s usually around half the price of a t-shirt in the men’s section (for example. I got a T-shirt from the Kid’s Section at Old Navy for $8. The CHEAPEST T-shirt in the adult section was around $15/$20). But I also get most of mine from the men’s section, just by looking for a small usually works. Also for some reason I know the store Tilly’s (if you’re into that style/store) has shirts that run small for some reason. A small is still typically too big for me but there I’m a medium so I’m not sure what’s going on there but kind of self confidence booster I guess which is nice. Also finding unisex shirts work great. I’m not sure your style but I’ve gotten some cool sweater/long sleeve shirts from Fred Meyer, Journey’s, and Hot Topic. For pants/shorts issue this is still a problem for me, but I have found some styles that look work pretty well. The good news is that sizing for men’s pants is SO much easier than it is for women’s. The downside is men don’t typically have wide hips so finding something that fits your waist and so the legs don’t drag on the floor can be a problem. I’ve had really good luck with jeans from target and all of my shorts are from Old Navy. Both stores carry pretty small sizes in a wide range which is nice. Also the brand Dickies pants, the straight flex, I’ve found to be very fitting without looking strange (for some reason the crotch on those pants are higher up so you don’t need to pull your pants up past your belly button for it to feel right and this makes it look more natural). Something else I’ve found is that getting straight leg/skinny in men’s pants usually makes the look more “normal” and can also make you look taller they also aren’t nearly as tight as skinny/straight leg women’s pants. And for shoes. I’m not sure if you need help with that or if your feet are small but mine are tiny so if yours are too here’s some info on that. Shop in the kids section 100%. It sucks because they don’t have the adult styles in children’s sizes BUT not only will the shoes fit your feet, if you get neutral regular shoes (obviously not Velcro/ones with cartoon characters/ones that light up) nobody will be able to tell you got them from the kids department and they’re usually around $20 cheaper. Which is fantastic. Hope this helped some. If followers have anymore suggestions feel free to add on.-Brett

[g-w-3-d-damn]

Tricky Treats and Torture Candy (Loki’s Naughty Candy Shop)  Part 8

(Click here for Part 1) (Click here for Part 2) (Click here for Part 3) (Click here for Part 4) (Click here for Part 5) (Click here for Part 6) (Click here for Part 7)

Loki combed his fingers through the silver hair at his temples and wrung the water from his dripping locks.  He took a few steps and collapsed nude on the clubhouse sofa.  A trio of lipstick-marked mannequins hurried inside, each waving an item of importance.  The first mannequin shimmied a new pair of stretchy, wide-hipped black leggings in front of Miss.  The second had a candy-striped drawstring apron for her.  The third held two items.  She egg-ecked excitedly as she waved the extra large t-shirt friendly bralette in front of miss. The first mannequin ran away, brought back a black belt.  The second ran away, brought back a soft cotton tee.  The third ran away and brought back an empty bodybag, to the horror of the other two.

The trio left Miss to dress herself, bounced excitedly around Loki's sleep-deprived naked body.

"What do you mean we're out of cherries?  I swear I brought enough to fill the entire order?  Argh, fine, I'll get us a refill," he said.

Loki and Miss descended the stairs with the flock of mannequins at their heels.  The mannequins pressed Loki toward the door.  He pushed back at the mannequins with a warning grunt and a wag of his fingers.

"Weigh yourself," Loki instructed Miss, "We can't open that door until we get your weight measured and recorded."

"But I'm dressed already," she protested.

"And you'll be wearing the same outfit most of the day, yes?  Record your weight.  Feel free to record that you were wearing clothes as well, but record your weight every two hours," he demanded.

She recorded her weight in the mirrored fitting room.  Loki peeked through the purple curtains, past the candy striped pillars of the shop, hopeful that Highness had not yet darkened the storefront with her shade.  Miss came from the fitting room.  Disappointment and apathy drenched her voice as she told Loki she'd weighed herself. Loki darted from the storefront with the empty body bag folded under his arm before she could tell him the scale's findings.  She sighed. The mannequins hugged her, brought her a Josta cola, and disappeared up the stairs.  The lights lit, the curtains rose, the store opened, and in walked Highness in bright cherry frills.

"You seem to have put on a few pounds since I last saw you," Highness intoned.

Miss shrugged.  Miss jerked her thumb towards the pallet of pink heart boxes.  Highness smiled, yet no crinkle formed at the corner of her eye.  Her cheeks did not rise.  Her iris did not twinkle.  Her white fake enamel teeth bared in insincerity.  She skewered her prize and left.  The door shut.  The bell remained as silent as Miss herself. Miss sighed and sipped her soda.

"I wonder what this would taste like with a few shots of Fireball," Miss said.

The gumball machine rattled, twisted out an Atomic Fireball for her.

"Um, thank you," she said.

She sucked on the red ball and sipped the glass Josta bottle in relative silence, in a vain attempt to process all the changes in her body. Two hours passed.  She felt heavier.  Her apron grew tighter.  She slipped off to weigh herself and discovered an extra 35 pounds from the previous hour.  She untied her apron, tied it again loosely.  She wondered if Loki had fallen asleep on his cherry run.  The bell above the door jingled in unfamiliar but urgent alarm.  Miss returned to her place behind the register, locked the filing cabinet, and set her keys in her front apron pocket with the pepperspray canister dangling out for quick access.  The door opened, and in walked the two thugs that accosted Miss in the dark grocery parking lot the night before.

"Oh fuck no," Miss said beneath her breath.  She looked up to the loft.  She saw the shadows of the mannequins stir to hostile life.

"Dude, they do look just alike, but that can't be her," the one in the red hat said.

"Must be her fat sister," the other said, "hey lady, do you have a skinny sister?"

She held the pepperspray canister firmly in her fist.

"I do not," Miss said.

"I thought you said this was a sex shop," said Red.

"It is a sex shop," said Other, "I've been here, they sell those dongs."

"Oh yeah?  Let's ask the fat lady.  Hey, fat lady, do you guys sell these?" Red asked.

Miss made a disgusted face as he plopped the dark cherry red U shaped double dong on the counter.

"No," Miss said, "We absolutely do not sell that product here, and you two need to leave."

"Aww, you a little squeamish?" Other said, "we're just trying to find out where this thing came from, and we'll leave you alone!"

"It's not ours.  Get lost."  Miss growled.

The U shape dong vibrated at a pitch that matched Miss' growl.  She peeked down at it and immediately back up to the eyes of the thugs. "And get that off my counter," she demanded.

"I don't have to listen to you," Other said.

"Hey, look at this!" Red said, "it's our dear president!  You guys makin' money off my president?"

"Well, it's a pinata, so..." she said.

"What's that funny Mexican word you just said?"

"I don't owe you an explanation," Miss said, "but, for your own good, get out of my store.  I won't tell you again."

"No I think you said that this is a pin- yacht- tee.  One of those things you beat, and candy comes out of it," Other said.

Red ripped open the presidential pinata, shook both halves, and threw them to the ground.  Miss sighed.  She raised her pepperspray, and the bell jingled.  The door flew open with a crash.  The idiots turned to see Loki.  The afterglow had faded from his pale face.  The sleepless dark spots beneath his eyes circled up to his faded eyeliner.  He strode toward them.  His sinister visage left no room to believe him capable of any tolerance for further nonsense.  The two thugs stared at the bodybag in his arms.  Thick red goo dripped from the bag and splattered against the carpet.  Loki bared his teeth in a malevolent, feral grin.

"Would you believe it's strawberry milkshake?" Loki hissed.

Red grabbed the other by the sleeve and pulled him away from Loki and out the door at a run.  The bell jingled happily as the door shut and bolted itself for the evening closing ceremony.  Miss put her pepperspray away.

Miss said, "Those were the guys from last night that Thor-"

"I know," Loki said, “Where is Thor and a shovel when you really need him?”

He laid the bodybag on the counter.  Miss' face twitched.

"I should have told you that they put a used dong on the counter before you sat that down," she said.

"I'm sure it'll be fine," Loki said.

He started for the stairs so he could finally get some sleep.

"But, where did it go?" Miss asked, "can you check the security footage to see if they took it with them?"

"Not if I don't have to," Loki said.

A vibration from inside the bodybag caused Loki to clench his fists.

"Oh no," Miss said, "you know it's the one that Highness wanted in cherry red, right?"

Loki huffed.  He turned heel to toe and marched back to the cherries, intent on grabbing the U shaped dong and tossing it straight out the door.  He lifted the bodybag only to discover the buzz coming from inside the bag.  He unzipped the bag to discover a dark cherry red, plastic tail, waggling from the pile of cherries.  Loki and Miss exchanged glances.

"Uh, it didn't look like that before," said Miss.

Loki took hold of the flipping tail and pulled it.  A basset-hound-sized plastic dog in the same dark cherry-red plastic as the U shaped dong emerged from the cherry pit and woofed at Loki.

"Rocket? Rocket!" Loki squealed, "Oh what did that mean ol' witch do to you, huh boy?"

Loki hugged the buzzing plastic dog-mannequin and smooched it as it licked his face.  Miss held her hands out in shock and disgust.

"Ugh no no no don't do that you don't know where it's been! Ugh, gross!" Miss cried. "Miss, this is Rocket!  He's been missing for so long!  Oh poor thing, he's probably been trapped in that packaging for a long time.  No wonder we never could sell that dong.  Oh goodness!  And I kicked it!  Oh I'm so sorry, boy!" Loki stammered.

"Okay now seriously," Miss said, "we have to throw out these cherries.  Nobody can eat these."

"Oh relax, let Highness eat the butt-cherries, who the fuck cares," Loki said.

"Well... Okay, Highness can eat all the butt-cherries, but if you dip even one of those in the chocolate fountain or feed one to Thor I swear so help me..." Miss said.

"Did... Wait, pardon me for being sleepy, but you still call him Thor?  Even after you've slept with him?" Loki asked.

"Well, uh, um, yes?  Isn't that how we're supposed to talk to and about each other in here?" She said.

"Oh, yes, nobody uses their real names in here, but... Do you know his real name?" Loki inquired politely.

Miss stared at Loki without a response.  Loki laughed.

"Oh, you little slut, you don't, oh well," he said.

"Hey now, we just had sex in your hot tub and you don't know my real name," Miss said.

"Oh I do, it was on your application," Loki said.

Loki smiled.

"You don't know my real name, either," Loki said.

Miss took a deep breath.  She opened another Josta, settled into her stool.

"I'm not losing sleep over it," she said.

Loki rubbed his eyes.  Red cracks reached from each corner of each eye all the way to the iris in their sleep-deprived state.

"Rub it in why don't you," Loki complained.

"You started it," Miss said. "Fair enough.  C'mon boy, let's get you a bath!" Loki said.

"Yes, please for the love of fuck sterilize that mutt," Miss said, "and brush your teeth and gargle with bleach!"

"Oh whatever he got on him while he was out rutting about will come off when the cherry does," Loki said.

He took Rocket upstairs for a wash.  Miss heard the familiar sounds of dental care and of gargled mouthwash.  She was grateful that he took her suggestion, but also slightly concerned that Loki had potentially gargled actual bleach.  Miss sighed to herself, took the new, larger, candyapple red Tricky Treats polo to the fitting room.  She stripped out of her clothes and weighed herself, wrote down the number.  She looked at herself in the mirror and wept at the change.  She took a deep breath, told herself the candy shop was worth the changes, dressed herself, and stepped out to find Loki.  Rocket shook soap suds from his floppy plastic ears.  Rocket was now candyapple red, and Loki, though tired, looked very pleased with himself, until he saw the tears on Miss' face.

"What happened?" he asked, "I'm sorry, I know I should probably already know what's wrong, but I'm very sleepy."

"Oh, just, the guys, they scared me, and they called me fat," Miss said, "they didn't even recognize me as the same girl they were gonna violate.  Not that I wanted to be recognized, just..."

She wept.  Loki hugged her.  His minty breath smelled lovely, and not at all like misplaced red rocket thug cooties.

"I'm sorry you had to deal with them again," Loki said, "I can have them taken care of if that would make you feel safe."

"I don't feel like I deserve to feel safe," she said.

Loki drew his face away from her, but held his embrace.

"Why not?" he asked.

She shrugged.  She spoke between sobs.

"I've gained 70 pounds in two days, I lived in a homeless shelter, nobody cared, I'm getting so much sex and it's so confusing, I can't tell what I've done to deserve my good luck, or my bad luck, and nobody's ever truly safe, and I think they think I deserve to be vulnerable, and, I don't know why, but I think maybe they're right," she said.

Loki rolled his eyes, closed them, and sighed.

"That's a lot to unpack, but don't," he said, "whatever this fearful, despairing feeling is, it'll pass.  It can't live long in a place like this.  I'm going to track down the reason you're gaining weight and put a stop to it.  I'm going to make sure you stay safe and healthy.  I'm going to make sure you have everything you need, and I intend to make sure you have everything that a brave, ballsy woman like you deserves.  I'm going to deal with those hooligans so you do not have to worry about them ever again."

Loki's face dropped when his words did not cure Miss' broken sobs.  He felt suddenly off-balance, insecure, and wondered, in fear, why these promises were not enough to heal the situation.  He hugged her tightly.

"I'm going to need you to step inside the fitting room with me again, and weigh yourself," he said.

He pulled Miss to her feet with a gentle tug.  He led her toward the fitting room.  His long fingers snatched into the candy-condom bowl as they brushed past.  He opened the door to the fitting room and stepped inside with her.  She got on the scale and discovered she had not gained any further weight.  Loki rubbed her shoulders.  

"Will you take off your clothes?" Loki asked.  

She hesitated, then shrugged and undressed without ceremony.  She stood on the scale again and did not notice much change.  She stepped off and reached for her pile of clothing.  Loki took her hand.

"I meant, would you take off your clothes for me, not for your weight," he said.

She didn't look at him.  She could still see their reflection repeated to infinity no matter where she looked.

"I'm not going to pressure you," he said, "I want to see you feel good about yourself."

"Thanks, I guess," she said.

Loki closed his eyes in thought.

"What did I do that made you go from the winner of the best hot-tub sex ever award to this shy thing that won't look me in the eye?" he asked.

She snorted.

"It was mostly them," she said.

"Then I must kill them," he said.

"It was only mostly them," she said.

"Can you tell me what I did?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said, "you called me a slut."

His jaw tensed.  His brain buzzed with lines for self-defense.  He shook them from his sleep-deprived mind.

"Yes, I did that," he admitted, "and I intend to flog myself for it later."

"Why bother?" she asked.

"Because it made you feel like... how do you feel?" he asked.

She shrugged again.  She knew it made her feel disappointed, but she did not want to articulate it.  He motioned to her shrugging action.

"Like that.  It made you feel like that and I didn't want you to feel like that.  Truly, I am impressed with you, I do not care who you sleep with or how fast you each came onto each other.  If anything this just makes you sexier to me," he said.

He held her chin and turned it to face herself in the mirror.

"But I need you to be sexy to you," Loki said, "not to me."

She shook her face out of his grasp.

"What for?" she asked.

"Selfish reasons like forgiving myself, making more money with you behind the register, and because I love to see you glow.  And you only glow when you're confident.  And you're only confident when you're sexy to yourself.  And whatever I've done to undermine your self-vision, is unforgivable.  Especially after all you've done for me," he said.

"So are you trying to tell me that you don't think I'm a slut?" Miss asked.

"I'm very in-eloquent when I haven't slept.  I probably meant to say minx," he crooned, "because you are.  You're very sexual, sensual, and attractive.  And sassy.  But that's not what I said, and what I said has injured you.  Perhaps I thought you could handle more sass, and I was wrong, and I'm sorry."

"Well, I did say you looked like a Hot Topic hooker," Miss said.

"Yes, you did, but you said it to me on a good day, and I did this bullshit today, while you were still processing trauma from those assholes that tore up my shop," he said.

"Yeah, sorry I haven't cleaned that up," she said.

"The mannequins can get it.  Honestly, seeing that pinata smashed up on the floor is not hurting my feelings any.  I think it rather adds to the decor," he said.

Miss smirked and giggled.  She covered her jiggling nipples with one arm and her mouth with the other.  Loki swooned suddenly.  He groaned, shook his head, and stood back up.

"I'm sorry," he said, "it's a little past time for my transition."

"Oh, uh, yeah, I understand," Miss said.

He guided her hands to the top button of his black dress shirt.  He pressed close to her.  He looked into her eyes. "I'm not done here, yet.  You won't see her for a while.  Until this is done, I'm not going anywhere," he said.

"What is it?  What needs done?" Miss stammered.

He pressed his face close to hers and offered his lips to her to kiss.

"Let's not even act like I wouldn't let that man fuck my brains out without even so much as a made-up name," Loki said.

"Do you want me to bring you to Thor?" Miss said.

Her voice wavered in her excitement.

"Sometime, yes," he whispered, "but right now I want you, to see you, how I see you, when I'm inside you."

"I'd rather look at you," she said.

"So do it," he said.

He brushed his fingertips over her knuckles to encourage her to unbutton his shirt and disrobe him.  She slipped one button at a time through the black buttonholes to reveal the pale skin beneath.  She took her time and enjoyed running her fingers over his flesh beneath the silky fabric.  She pushed the shirt off his shoulders and admired his skinny back in the mirror.  She caught a look at herself, overweight, her peachy skin visible on both sides of his skinny hips.  She hesitated with her fingers on his belt buckle.

"Really?" he said, "you're really not sure you deserve it?"

"I," she said, "I don't like how fat I look."

"Are you really going to deny yourself the pleasure of watching us fuck just to avoid your own self-scrutiny?" Loki asked.

"When you put it that way it does seem pretty stupid," she said.

"You deserve to feel good," he said, "look at me if that's what makes you feel good."

She undid the belt, let his tall dark pants slip down his long pale legs. She stared at his ass, almost as high and almost as tight as his younger counterparts' ass.  His cock stood out in infinitum in the mirror.  His hip jutted as he knelt to pick the condom from his pocket that now laid in the floor.  The infinity of reflections of his jutting hip disappeared over an arbitrary horizon.  His breath blasted against the mirror as he slipped the condom onto himself. His breaths left wisps of evaporating condensation that grew bigger with every muted, shuddering sigh.  No matter where Miss looked, she saw herself getting fucked by this man she met days ago. Since that day, she wanted him with all her swelling cunt, and now she had him.  She saw him manipulate her plump body, and she blushed at how sensual her body truly looked.  The heat from her skin left a sheen on the mirror as he nipped at her neck.

"You will always deserve an afterglow," he moaned in her ear.

She felt his cock churn within her.  She watched his ass swish in circles between her legs while he knocked swirls of pleasure into her.  Her outcries echoed in the small fitting room and poured back on her. Her voice grew as her pleasures grew, ad nauseum infinitum, in feedback loops of sound and mirrored sex.  And all the while he crooned at her that she deserves the world.  The mist grew on the mirrors as the pair panted and broke into a sweat.  The mist softened their visage, coalesced until all that was left of the infinite reflections was a blurred mess of diffused writhing flesh.  

"I love the way you look naked.  I'm so glad that you let me see you this way.  I tried, that first day, when you let me toy you through your pants, I tried to learn what your body wants.  Where your favorite spot is.  I remember you swirling your hips in the air when I toyed you, and I'm not surprise that you're screaming now every time I swirl my cock over that spot.  But I am surprise at one thing," he said.

"What," she panted.

"The inside of you has changed, just like the outside.  You're tighter, now.  The walls are closing in from the layer of fat inside.  You're tighter, harder, yet softer, all at the same time.  And it's surprising, and it feels amazing, and I don't think I'm going to last much longer," he whimpered.

He looked at her with striking but bloodshot eyes.  She nodded.  She wrapped her legs around him with a firm pressure and did all she could to squeeze her insides around him.

"Fuck, oh fuck," he called.

He roared and prayed to her.  He howled and groaned.  Every taboo noise he'd held back since he met her gushed from between his clenched, bared teeth.  He bounced on his heels and fucked into her in short quick thrusts.  She held her grasp on him as strong as she could until he swooned and fell to his ass with her in his lap.  She held him against her and rolled her hips, worked herself down him.  He lost his face in her breasts, certain he'd die this time.  

Leave a heart and a share to help others enjoy my writing! Too embarrassed to reblog? That’s okay!  I love you and support your decision to read my work incognito.  Some of us have to leave no trace and I support you for that. I have a ko-fi! Comment your favorite moment/favorite image.  Most favorited visuals get art later. **Bookmark me & re-read me later!** twitter | ko-fi | patreon | commissions | facebook | index | tumblr I now have a discord set up just for the candy shop work.  https://discord.gg/hE5S5En

[trrendz-blog]

Dress up denim- Emerge your sharp look | Trrendz

There are various ways to get into the stylish world specifically for the jeans- nobody wants to give up their blue colour jeans, but there are a few more colours denim which can let you move inside the modern fashion. However, there is no way to modern fashion, and you can try a variety regarding this. Different people are trying various designs, patterns, and colours for fashion, and now it’s your turn to speak about that. The Latest style embraced denim and then a few. It is the new wear because jeans can be seen everywhere from the meatpacking plants to laborer containing corporate. If you are looking for Trrendz Denim at the center of your wardrobe-A smart and sensible choice given reliability and comfort as well-Don’t look further than this short guide to walk through the latest updated fashion that will always keep your denim in best look.

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Look for a dark colour — deep indigo supports best or can be tried deep blue-gray. Straight-legged — boot cut, but this is not a versatile Sharply fitted — not “skinny jeans” tight, but without any a sag in the crotch Neat & clean— no obvious wear and tear from work on them Usual — whistles, straps, no bells, flap pockets, etc. Don’t be scared the touch more than spending that you’re used on the jeans, it may heart you. The difference between the low price bran jeans and high price brand jeans may bother you; specifically, it’s concerned with the quality. It is benefited to spend extra on the sharp look and dark jeans, cheap jeans may not have such type qualities. So, try to spend on large level as far as you want good quality jeans.

Dressing up Denim with Classic Look

Are you one of those people who don’t want to push too many fashion boundaries all once?  In such cases, slightly turn back on your traditional styles that have been your wearing style for the decades can still help you.  Most of them would be in casual styles. You can wear not only for the business and official but also wear around town- to low formality setting such as ballgames and taverns.

Jeans Dress Shirts

These days, the combination of jeans and dress shirts is in the trend, the light colour dress shirts with blue jeans can make a great picture for the official. White, blue, and some places black dress shirt may use for the official and business look, while the dark colour of dress shirts can be used as the fashion. Being the stylish wear, your shirt should have fit and look according to your body shape. The pair of jeans and blazers can make effective for any place. Trrendz Denim and Dress Shirt are perfect which is being used at the social platform and occasions.

Denim with the T-Shirts

Wearing T-shirts along with brands like polo, denim, mufti, and many more becomes style among the youth when they see their heroes on the Television like Salman Khan and Ranbeer Kapoor, etc. They want look up as their stars, that’s why various people among youth are selecting stylish T-shirts to “sloppy dressing senses”.  However, there are various colours of shirts trending for fashion, but black & blue colours trrendz T-shirts are in the trending.  Dark colour jeans like black & blue with the branded T-shirts make you perfect as the selectiveness.

If you want to pull off some classic looks from your following stars, then you will go through online shops. If you are very smart about your T-shirt selection- you will need plain without logo T-shirts that will give a perfect look as you want.  Your T-shirt should be past your belt and should be tight on the chest.

The combination of Jeans and Work Shirt

Upgrade your style slightly from T-shirt and go with the long or short-sleeved work shirt instead: something like that soft, turnaround a collar, and a buttoning from the top of the front.  This may be a classic look for working place and the socially too. You should avoid some rookie mistakes: you will nothing get in the blue colour that may very close to your jeans or don’t use it with the company logo. It may be worse with the rectangular name of patches with cursive print on them.

Dressing up Denim with Fashionable Look

Do you want to go a little up from the classic and timeless style in wearing denim style? There will not any problem-most of guys have been working blue & black jeans into more fashionable and sophisticated looking for a while now. You can also go with some funky and stylish denim with white or grey dress shirts. You will have to care one thing that you may not go with the same colour combination.  

Wear Denim with Sweater

The combination makes perfect- dark jeans, a light shirt, and medium sweater

There is lots of way to wear such dresses with denim. If we use a V-neck collar dress shirt underneath sweater, then it looks great. So, you can skip your T-shirt while using a sweater. Under the sweater, you can wear tucked or untucked shirts easily as it can be hidden under them. Trrendz Fashion promotes this wearing style with Denim also by offering various colours and looks. Whole things make you excellent for any place either socially or officially. Moreover, another fashion trend is to use a jacket instead of a sweater. Wear jacket with the denim pulls off your great charm-specially in black and grey colours jacket. Making pair with formal shoes and blazer make you perfect as look as well as increase your personality.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Manhattan.

Authors Note: Au where Harry is a Frat Boy. I don’t know where this is going. It was hard to write though.

Harry Masterlist found HERE Other Chapters found HERE

I was never the character to continuously go to parties, get drunk, or even go out every Friday night.

I regularly prefer to stay in on Friday nights, revising for the tests or doing the homework that I’m drowning in.

I perpetually overhear the stories that go around every Monday morning, after some sort of party that sparked everyone’s interests.

I continually hear the late night giggles and drunken stumbles in the hallways’ of my dorm. Every Saturday morning, around two, I hear the laughs of tipsy and intoxicated classmates’ that never seizes to disturbs me from my sleep or my studying.

I overhear the front door to the suit open, an indication one of my three suit mates are subsequently back from class, or shagging up with their boyfriends’ or their boyfriends’ friends.

To say the least, my suitemates are of some character, character that is different to my own. I always listen in on some of the scandalous stories that go on within the suit— they can be great friends’, but they don’t always make the best of decisions.

I narrow my eyes back to the book in my hand that is required to be read for English class, despite its terrible storyline and the fact it is borderline monotonous. For a moment, I am distracted when my suitemate enters the bedroom, a smile painted across her face. “What are you doing tonight?” She beams over to me, directing my attention away from the torturous book in my hand.

“I have a date with Bio, why?” I glance over at her, noticing how she is already rummaging through her clothes, perhaps trying to find something to wear for the evening.

“Come out with me, there is a party.”

“I need to do Bio, I’ll pass.” I shake my head, just as she flings a glittery black dress into my lap. I lift it off my lap and drop it to the bed.

“Bio will be there in the morning, get up. you need to have some fun.”

“I need good grades, actually.” I correct her, her posture straightening as she turns to glance at me.

“Get your ass up, put on a dress and heels, do something with your hair, and put the damn book down.” She narrows her eyes on the book still in my hand, “One night, that is it. I promise you won’t regret it.” She presses, determined to not allow me to pass on the opportunity to go out with her and probably get drunk and have guys hit on the two of us.

With a heavy sigh, I push myself off the bed, my fingers clasping the glittery dress, “Fine, but I want your psych notes, and I want those heels.” I gesture towards a pair of crimson red heels. She raises a brow, seeming surprised by my choice of colour.

“I said get dressed, not to look hot. I am surprised.” She gasps teasingly, my eyes rolling at her,

“I do know how to dress, surprisingly. Now, hand over the psych notes.” I smile, already beginning to undress and pull the dress over my body, adjusting it to fall perfectly.

“Damn, you brush up nicely without a book in your hand.” She chuckles, handing me her heels that I have requested for the night. I grin, giving her a shrug as I run my hands through my hair, debating whether I need to do anything to it.

I mutter under my breath my regret as I step into the rowdy house, parties are not really my thing—neither are Frat parties. I sigh, allowing my roommate to drag me into the house of swaying bodies and raucous noise, music echoing against the walls, laughter and chatter boisterously buzzing.

It takes me a while to settle into the atmosphere of overly enthusiastic and somewhat intoxicated figures, my hand already clasping a red solo cup with some sort of fruity drink poured into it. I hurried away from the vodka shots and settled on whatever it is that was poured into my cup. I assume it is a mix of fruits and vodka, but there is really no telling, the bartender seemed half intoxicated himself.

I glance over as a loud eruption of laughter takes my attention, a group of boys’ gathered around a pingpong table, shouting at each other, pushing and shoving as two of them go head to head in the battle of beer pong. I can’t help but chuckle at the pathetic attempt of the blonde in a pair of light dawn-tinted shorts and a white polo hung around his figure. There is no doubt in my mind that he is already at his limits end with alcohol, and his friends’ are just savouring his embarrassment with beer pong.

I wander closer to the table, considerately amused by the whole group; they appear to be having a lot more fun than the sweaty, dancing bodies in the other room, and they’re the only group of boys that aren’t trying to mount their dick onto anything that breathes and resembles the slightest bit of a female.

“Ah, we have a new spectator.” A guy gestures towards me, forcing all the attention to be focused on me, I shrug and take a sip of my beverage, “Guess you didn’t see the sign?” He comments,

“Which one?” I raise a brow, unsure of what he is referring to.

His mates grow quiet and his mouth begins to move, “This is not a game for chicks.” His sexist comment automatically causes me to roll my eyes.

Entitled, sexist fratboy— clearly a non-intelligent twat.

“Oh, really? I thought the sign said to drop my balls at the door because you seem to have lost yours. You scared a girl will beat you?” I respond, unsure of where he gets off pointing me out for watching, as a female.

“No girls.” He adamantly states, gesturing around to the men standing around him.

“Oi, I’d quite like to see her stay. Unless, of course, she is right and you really have no balls.” A voice pipes up.

I follow the voice, my eyes resting on a boy— I’d say he is around six feet tall, clothed in a Ralph Lauren, white button down shirt, one that hugs his body in a rather lovely manner, accompanied by a pair of dark wash, black jeans.

He raises his red cup to his lips, his sleeve sliding down his arm, imperceptibly revealing a detailed looking watch.

He stands out a little from his Fratboy fellows. He isn’t wearing pastel colours or wearing a baseball cap backwards, he isn’t being too boisterous, and he is not being like the ringleader— a complete bro-y misogynist twat.

“Are you offering to pledge for her?” The instigator glares over towards the unknown man, “Because, we know how that went down last time, Styles.” The jackass grins, an inside joke seeming to be made as the other men snicker, holding up the solo cups in unison.

Styles rolls his eyes, flicking the demagogue the bird, “your ex-girlfriend definitely went down, last time,” Styles remarks, “Remember that one time—” He begins but is instantly cut off,

“Fine, she can stay.” The dick of a frat boy mutters, glaring over towards me with sombre, defeated eyes. I return the favour with a grin, amused by his downfall. “Not like she’d last long, she’s a newbie, but yeah, she can stay.” He shrugs, trying to play it nonchalantly, resembling a tool more than anything. I roll my eyes, holding back my tongue, deciding to keep calm.

I stray away from the beer pong fanatics, finding myself roaming the frat party, trying to find a familiar face, but only finding drunks and eager party goers.

How everyone appreciates this every weekend, I do not know.

I don’t find anything interesting about sweaty bodies, grinding, and alcohol.

The amount of times I have seen a couple make out is disgustingly high.

There is a thing —it is called getting a room— but apparently, nobody knows what that is. They much prefer to parade their drunken antics in front of everyone.

I shake away my thoughts, placing down my drink and searching the extensive house for my roommate. I have no idea where she got herself off too, but I am about to head out, and me being the responsible person I am, I am going to make sure she is okay.

I eventually find her sitting on a leather couch, a guy with his arm slung around her. I mentally roll my eyes before I inform her of my decision to leave. She tries to protest but she stops when I continue to shake my head, having no inclination to stay in a place I have no desire to be in.

I step down the stone steps, leading to a cobbled pathway, feeling the cold chill of the late night breeze brushing past me, tangling itself within my hair.

“Wait.” A familiar voice grasps my attention and I turn on my heel, abruptly being face to face with the frat boy that permitted me to watch the game of beer pong. “Ye’ leaving already?” He questions and I nod,

“I have better things to do than to sit in a house and have prying hands on me,” I respond, making it known I do not like the scene of what is going on. I take notice as his eyes eclipse a darker shade of Emerald, his lips curving into a firm line. “Is there something you needed? I have studying to do.” I distract him from his gaze and unworded thoughts.

“You should stay,” He presses, almost causing me to stifle a laugh at his ludicrous comment.

I shake my head, “Again, prying hands is not my forte.”

“Nobody will touch you.” He assures me with a bit of a sonorous voice, something about him intriguing me for the moment.

“Oh, really?” I cross my arms with a raised brow, observing the smirk becoming painted across his face.

“Really.” He nods,

“I have studying to do.” I shake my head, “And, I don’t know you— for all I know— you could drag me back inside and pull me into the lair of your jackass, frat boy, simpleton.” I respond, observing as he chuckles, finally giving me a slight smile, a smile that I can not disregard.

It is very charming.

“I am about ninety-nine percent positive there is not a lair inside. As for the simpleton, he won’t bother you, he currently has his tongue shoved down some girls’ throat, he will be occupied for at least ten minutes.” He responds, seeming amused by my way of words and naming his friend a complete moron.

For a moment, I contemplate whether or not to take up the offer of the charming boy in front of me. Surely, if he wanted to pull some sort of dickish move on me, he would have already. Despite his charming smile and his rather succulent gaping lips, I shake my head.

“I really need to study,” I respond politely,

“Well, can I at least walk you back to your apartment?” He kindly offers, noticing how there are a few other people stumbling their way out of the house.

I wrap my arms around me, the cool air being a little too chilly for my liking, “Uh, you don’t have too.” I respond, taking note of how he seems to subtly sigh with a little disappointment from my words… “But, I mean.. It would be appreciated.” I hastily add, figuring it would not be such a bad thing to be accompanied back to my suit, after all, there is no telling just who is lurking around here.

“Lead the way.” He smiles and I do exactly that, I lead the way back to campus, keeping conversation with the boy that is still nameless. All that I have managed to gather from him is that he is a gentleman, but, I will not be fooled. Frat boys start off as gentlemen to mislead you, then when they have you wrapped around their finger, they turn into arrogant pricks that think the world revolves around them.

I know his type, I know how it works.

“You have an accent, where are you from? If you don’t mind me asking.” I softly ask as we walk across campus, the frigid temperatures of the fall setting in early as I shiver slightly, trying not to make it known.

“I am from a small town. Cheshire, England… It is a county in north-west England, very rural.” He apprises me.

Ah-huh. There is the accent. A British boy, nice.

I would never have guessed he was from a dainty little town in England, a rural one at that. But, I can’t deny the fact that I do, in fact, find it rather charming.

“What about you?” He questions. For a moment, I contemplate whether to tell him the truth or to lie. I hate having to answer the question on where I am from. It is not for any reason such as disgust or shame, it is more because of judgement. 

“I’m from here, New York,” I respond, knowing already what will come out of his mouth next. It always happens.

“Oh, nice. Which part?” The familiar interrogation I am always challenged, usually followed with a wide-eyed expression when I respond. “I would offer you my jacket, but I don’t have one.” He appends, appearing to take note of my cold shivers, the damn New York air making me look like a fool.

“It is okay.” I assure him with a small smile, “And, you know. Around here.” I shrug, being vague with my answer on the specific part of where I am from. 

“Mysterious, I see.” He chuckles, “You do realise, ’around here’ is very vague.” He continues, seeming interested in what I have to say, 

“Mhm, means you will have a struggle finding me away from campus.” I joke, somewhat. 

I notice him stifle a laugh as we arrive at my suit building, my hand reaching for my card to allow me to access the building. “Well, this is my building,” I gesture towards the large glass doors.

He nods, glancing around the area of campus, “Hm, well. Your escort has done his duty, I guess I will see you around?” He challenges, catching me off guard with his low voice and his enchantment. 

Damn that British Bewitchery. 

I nod and he gives me a sweet smile before he turns and steps down the few steps, “Wait,” I call, grasping his attention. 

He turns around, waiting for me to speak. 

“You never told me your name,” I comment, noticing how he is still a nameless man to me, just as I am nameless to him. 

He grins, his eyes glowing in the dim light illuminating from my building. “That makes two of us with mystery, don’t it?” He cheekily remarks, causing me to cock my head imperceptibly to the side, my eyes narrowing down on him. 

“Perhaps,” I recognise his point, 

“I’ll trade you?” He proposes, “My name for where you are from.”

“Okay,” I concede, “But, you promise not to judge me?” I softly claim, feeling insignificantly vulnerable to the judgement that may be passed upon me. 

Why? I do not know. I shouldn’t care what he thinks, he is just another frat boy.

“Judgment free zone.” He assures me, that radiating smile still beaming widely.

“Manhattan… The Upper East side.” I mumble quickly, trying my best to answer the question without coherently whispering the ‘The Upper East Side.’ part. 

He nods, “It is a lovely side of Manhattan.” He continues, 

“Why did you not ask my name?” I curiously inquire. I would have only thought he would be more inquisitive about my name rather than the mystery of where I am from. 

He smiles softly, leaving me in a bit of suspense as he takes his time coming up with a result. 

“It keeps the mystery.” He finally acknowledges, striking me by surprise. 

Huh, so the British boy likes mystery. Interesting. 

“You still have not told me your name.” I remind him as he turns around to continue walking. He glimpses over his shoulder, his eyes reflecting a wonderful hue in the moonlight. 

He simply answers with that sweet smile of his, “Harry.”

[cafephan]

dan and phil play golf with friends #2: a summary

DanandPhilGames caddy lads "you loved it, you were like yes the golf lifestyle, i'm wearing expensive polo shirts i'm sipping an overpriced drink, im nattering with the business fellows and hitting that ball" says dan whilst well in the knowledge most of us are shut away in our bedrooms in our pyjamas with not a penny to our name and sipping on tap water "so we're here in the dan and phil golf club and there is a certain dress code, dan" i like to take this as phil foreshadowing the beautiful fashion choices dan is making during this singapore trip even though he clearly isn't foreshadowing anything moment of appreciation for the singapore trip's outfit choices tho please moment over thirty three seconds in we get the first fond glance, hopefully the first of many "the only short sleeved short i have is creased, phil" the look that he's giving phil reeaaalllyyy makes me wonder how it got creased... "i don't care, just go get it on" says phil the fashion meister helllooooo moth shirt my favourite my best friend my one true love "we had green shit in our hair for like three hours after we put these on" who needs context amirite "dan thought i threw these away but no i've been secretly hiding them" ok but how is that so domestic "look how erect my flag is today" / "list of things you should like never say again...." (unless they're off camera to me) ((i finished the quote that the jumpcut edited out)) "you know the rules. we can only do one dan vs phil per game" is that a rule? have they said that before? okay sure let's roll with it they're playing for the burger socks from a few liveshows ago "i ordered this for a friend but they sent two" sure phil a company would clearly go out of their way to send two of the same product meaning they'd be out of profit,,, your friend definitely didn't just give them back to you "do i want to eat them or wear them?" i'm certain that this is not the first time that sentence has come out of dan's mouth "are you excited by that? do you want that? on your feet?" / "i so want the cheese on my foot." *jumpcut* *phil says literally one word and dan is already grinning at him* f o n d "this is something to watch like a sport, and enjoy like a sport" unless you're making a summary of this video meaning you have to rewind every two seconds thanks phil "lingering banter... just enjoy the time between jokes" *both giggle like the dorks they are* "you liked the last one, so strap yourselves in for some golf" "we need to customise our balls" can dan go one gaming vid without dragging tumblr like i go through all of this effort for you pls don't drag me you little curly haired shit "[about the colour of his ball] i would call that moonlight dolphin" dan has gone for plain white this time does this represent him emotionally who knows at the time of filming i like symbolism and connotations they're fun "oh my gosh, it's like... goodness has returned" phil why are you so cute "i'm calling our room dogs9000 today" / "very appropriate" first of all why is it appropriate second of all is that what they called their room on the tour bus "stop. they just do what they want. stop telling them what to do." / "i guess that's valid. i'm sorry, butterflies, you do you." "i'm like so oasis right now" "ancient egypt is my favourite historical period so i'd like to delve into there" i think i've found the next fic trend why are they using the chatroom when their chairs are literally touching and from the front angle it looks as if their hands are too "my pole is so tall you can't even see the flag" again my gut instinct is that it isn't the first time those words have come out of phil's mouth "... and other sentences that phil will never say again" (unless they're off camera to me) ((i finished his quote for him again he should pay me for this)) "beginnu" / "golf it up" dan has more fluidity in his hand movements than phil does take what you will from that information "here we go" / "here we golf" tag urself "oh you're inside my ball again" / "we're already freaking out inside each other" *phil laughs a lot and grins then followed by a mysterious jumpcut* "bit too much power for danny there" dan is already being a sore loser but he can't help but be all smiley that phil is all smiley and jokey phil cheers him on still "if i can get it in now, it'll be okay" i've said it once and i'll say it again... definitely not the first time those words have been said by danny boy they clean up the whole two computer debacle "i'm deceived by the curves" joint vibing and dancing to the music "you're in africa the hole is in antarctica" mister geography "you absolute cheeky little twit" a new addition to the list of fond insults from dan to phil sore loser dan continues to thrive phil manages to screw up literally the easiest shot in the world??? i love you boy but oh how you suck at this game and now dan is smiling again what a sadistic lil tot "welcome to the land of pain and misery" thanks dan for my new bio dan's lovely lady gaga rendition gets cut short by a jumpcut wtf give me the good stuff i deserve it oh he finished the rendition what a pair of lungs on that kid *phil definitely says 'oh shit'* "i didn't swear then" yes you did just accept your potty mouth perfect opportunity to kick the old branding to the curb a girl can dream ok "oh you're going to be stuck for ten hours, phil, how is this going to go" "i can't even see myself... oh i went in" seriously how many times in one video can my gut instinct tell me dan's said these sentences before in his lifetime "the power of wobbling knocked me in" "that felt good to me" "my lovely philly lumps, check 'em out" what a beautiful rendition phil i would buy it on itunes / "...things you should never say again, volume twelve" cocky dan strikes again "you okay there?" / "i'm feeling very emotional about this" "par? more like cheat" / "that's par for the course" please stop talking over each other this summary takes long enough as it is without having to rewind ten times "oh we're the same now" / "now we're even" / "i was so happy with my lead" / "guess we're going to have to cut our feet in half" / "yeah..." *phils cute laugh* "that's obviously just saying go for it... but how much power?" / "smack it" i imagine this is phil's outlook on life six minutes fifty four seconds in... rip headphone users "we're gonna take like eleven goes at this" not if you both strikeout, my guy "this is so much harder than the last one" phil please don't make this too easy for me "please release us from this hell" i'd like to thank the universe for the occasional slivers of dan skin we see through the gaps in his shirt buttons "i'll happily sit here for three and a half hours now whilst phil gets it in" ... oh come on it's definitely not the first time he's said that sentence drinking game: take a shot every time they say 'yes' or 'yeah' that'll get you drink awfully quick "get out of my zone! stop touching me!" / "knock. knock." stop talking over each other please i beg of you "i'll touch you when i please..." okay dan you are aware of the camera pointing at you right phil's reaction is all of us at dan just saying that sentence "... don't say that again" (unless it's off camera to me) ((now i'm apparently finishing phil's sentences for him, he should pay me too)) "i'm so sorry for this whole video" ty dan cocky dan is here to stay, it seems like dan got so cocky that he fucked up i love life "that's what you get for being cocky!" i love phil "i'm out of strokes? that's how bad i was?" i don't know why my gut instinct is telling me phil's said that before but... anyway "you are now... eight over my score, phil." look at dans hands he's dying to do a mr burns impression and say excellent "that was a mystery adventure if i ever saw one" "*sigh* oh phil" "phil, phil, dear me" in all the videos of this game i've watched before nobody managed to make that pillar shot and yet dan does it on his first try...... sure okay "king of golf. yes." / "shush" phil made it too yay "guys if you're feeling like i'm just going to lose, i'm really going to try from now on" he looked at the camera like he meant it *dan looks over* "phil's gonna take this so seriously. no more bants, just solid golf seriousness" dan do you just stop listening to yourself when you talk "solid whacking" / "okay in the list of things that are serious, saying 'solid whacking', that's- that's not up there" *dan two seconds later* "so i'm just gonna whack it" "boom... slide... crack" i'm not even trying to analyse that "how would anakin do this" "i was using the force! did you see?" / *dan smiles fondly* "no i didn't" "if you whack me over the edge i'm going to bury you alive" "shit fucking wank fuck" "how did you get that wrong?" i'm still asking that question to phil about that other hole dan i feel you "that was sexual" / "that was the most erotic math based experience i've ever had" / "i liked that" "the skateboarding teenager inside me wants to go back and do this" / "could skateboarding teenage phil ever have skated around that?" / "he would have said that he could do it, but he would've fallen off... and hit his head" / "it's the trying that counts" "oh philly philly two whack" the game either wants phil to win and keeps sabotaging dan, dan wants phil to win and he keeps sabotaging himself, or dan is just that bad at the game he keeps fucking up i'd put my money on the latter "i want to have children with this course" first of all there will be fics of this and i will turn over in my grave, secondly poor janice :( "shitty fuck no i need to be in a straight line" "i wouldn't trust that with a barge pole" king of the english language "miss miss" phil being the ever supportive best friend "lara croft would... love this" "remember that you owe me two strokes" / *sassily* "no i don't" / "yeah you do, the game broke" / "that's-that's your fault" / *laughs* "no it's not!" this is literally the conversation that defines their friendship and it is beautiful "he's the one that's trolling me by stopping my ball" dan pls "i'm going in" / "do it, phil" you're just making it too damn easy for me "i would watch golf on tv if phil commentated it" dan you would watch anything that phil was even remotely involved with dan the sore loser back again dan is doing some kind of animal impression and if sounds as if it's a bird in heat or something "you wanna say that's not count (*literally dan wtf*) see the comments. they'll be- they'll be ju-thirsty for justice." not considering you drag us every chance you get you lil shit #teamphil also dan is tumbling over his words so much this video is he okay dan makes up a stupid penalty for phil to do because the game apparently hates him but in reality he just sucks, and phil goes along with it because he's phil how the hell did dan manage to jump over the high wall "i just left clicked and i bobbed.. i wasn't supposed to bob" "that's definitely not in- okay you did it" oooh one point difference "oh i didn't get some dinghy time then" "how ya doin? nice to see you there" "believe in the power" "you did a much more satisfying one than me" "your non-gender specific caddy gimp would need to be fanning you..." / "caddy gimp?" / "yeah" / "i'd just want them to put me on a camel, give me a pina colada, play golf for me... and i'd just be like this on my laptop" we all know phil loves his pina colada *wink wink* "... yeah that's the dream" well we know dan's opinion on pina colada don't we *wink wink* "leona lewis would hate you" shots fired "yes i did just cheat by looking at your bar" / "you can't look at my bar!" / "oh well i just did!" cocky dan back with his questionable sounds "he's thinking about how tasty your ball is right now" "yes sphinx daddy, let's go" "climbing inside the pyramid vagina" "you've got a mystical glow about you" "you're kind of ruining the vibe" "look how much you're illuminating the whole" dan the cocky sod literally looks like a child rn "i don't know what's happening but i'm excited by it" did phil just channel his inner chandler from friends bc that is all too similar to the chandler quote "tease it in" / "never say that again" "that deserves extra points that was incredible" proud bf phil "ooh toasty ball" they're helping each other along aw "i mean fuck the dan vs phil board... this is a prize worth playing for" *dan shakes the burger socks* the game broke so they restarted it and they now have the same score wooow "this is not how god wanted it but this is what's happening" phil says as he takes his two shot penalty "i don't think, erm, if god does exist, in any form, that He would give a shit about this game, phil" / "i think he would" dan gives phil a full rundown on his math-based plan "you copied my strats!" "let me just sniff these socks" / "ew" "are you more of a leftie or a rightie?" / "i'm gonna be... rightie as that is what i write with" rip all you leftie philgirls "how do you know? you don't know left and right" bloody hell dan calm down "it's a bridge to cleopatra's bedroom" *phil lands on the pyramid* "is he wearing any underwear?" "everyone who doesn't know math right now is just like... whirring with calculations right now" actually i'm just sat here typing this so screw you howell you don't know me "i'm just going to max power it over here" did anyone else think of the simpsons? when homer changes his name? anyone at all? okay then "that means i win!" phil shouts enthusiastically and claps his hands together phil continues to clap it ends as a draw!!!! "so does that mean we've gotta share the socks?" "i want the cheese- i want the lettuce" phil bless you "it'll be like those people that get like best friend necklaces that complete each other except for us it's burger socks." *modelling the socks* "look at those dank socks" "the best bit is when you went through the sphinx's mouth and when you went through the uterus" they'd be up for another vid yes please i need one!!!!!! n e e d!!! the twilight course would be next "now we're gonna pick the green stuff out of our hair... go on phil, groom me like a monkey" dan. "get that moss out" seriously. dan. danisnotsandy auterusphil (which of them did this) also phil pretended to eat whatever he just supposedly groomed from dans head okay eventful video.