#the term fuck blown lips is going into my rotation

[napoleonriot]

Stretched, sensitive, and shaking. Napoleon's cock was fixed in Carmine's throat as the Riot looked down at the malicious devil between his thighs. This was his favorite way to wake up, and the image of the other in this particular position would never get old. "Looks good in you." Napoleon praised as his fingers moved affectionately through Carmine's dark nest of hair at the top of his head. He tensed at the pressure of teeth and skin around the sensitive base of the blown knot; more of his seed slipped out as Napoleon did his best not to rip the other's jaw clean apart. He'd collected Carmine because the volatile was like him in so many ways; he found him exciting and funny because he was always far too serious. Their shared deviant nature was just a bonus.

With some measure of patience, Carmine felt himself at ease down to the point where he could pull out from the other's mouth. A ruin of spit, cum, and lips so stretched out that tasting them was Napoleon's recourse as the Riot pulled the other towards him.

His mouth filled with spit, fuck-blown lips curving perfectly around the base of Napoleon's cock as it was repeatedly buried into the confines of Carmine's throat. The Riot's grip upon hiss unruly hair tightened with each brutal thrust of his hips, Carmine's own nails gripping into the tender flesh of Napoleon's outer thighs as spittle fell to the sides of his mouth, down his chin; a clear ruination that Carmine ran towards. A small whine rumbled in his throat, spliced with gargled moans, before Napoleon tensed and quivered above him, Carmine's name half-falling from the other volatile's lips as a sordid warning. Hot seed fell down his throat as Napoleon buried himself into the Malice's stretched throat and a low growl rumbled from Carmine, a stamp of dark approval as his fingernails pricked at Napoleon's quivering thigh and the iron scent of blood pricked his senses. His hands fell, slipped down the others legs but that familiar tear-stricken gaze peered up at Napoleon, blown and destroyed as seed and spittle fell around the knot which bloomed within his mouth.

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jerking Bucky Off Under The Table During A Meeting...

Warnings | handjob, swearing, smut, kinda exhibitionism, cum tasting

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

He was trying to listen to Steve, but it came increasingly difficult as you ran your hand up his thigh, absentmindedly biting your lip and nodding your head, faking attention to the course of action that he was dictating with Tony on.

Bucky chewed on the inside of his mouth, smiling at the motion as you stroked circles against the material of his trousers, thinking it for a moment to be nothing more than a sentimental source of comfort. Though, he discovered himself to be wrong, as your nails scratched against the denim, moving higher up, causing his breath to hitch strongly.

His aim was to continue listening to Tony’s ultimatum towards his best friend, but he found it difficult, as he kept wavering his eyes towards you, squirming to attempt to decipher your intent. He didn’t trust what you were doing, not during such a crucial moment, it was well known within the compound that you liked to live on the edge, however, he didn’t want you to try and push him over his own around so many of your co workers and friends.

To his luck, the meeting was only small; concerning only Tony and Steve, who were debating the pros and cons of each others arguments away at each other, a sleep deprived Natasha, who was more concerned about the broken coffee maker that Stark had yet to fix, Peter whom was multitasking by taking notes and studying for this term’s final exam, and Clint, the man that was falling avidly half asleep before everyone’s eyes.

And you saw, their presence and the lack of many others as an opportunity, to rile him up and tease him beneath the platform that was spewed with open files and half ink filled pens. Shaking his head at your incessant need to touch him, he moved your hand down lower, but that move of his was pointless, for you simply raised the stakes again, and your hand, choosing to brush over what he was packing this time.

It emitted a gasp from Bucky, one that he tried to choke down into a cough, so that there would be no underlying suspicions pivoting around the minds of his teammates. There surely couldn’t be much longer of this premise left, he thought to himself, to calm his body into submission, though, he couldn’t be sure, with the back and forth that Tony and Steve were passing to each other like a lit torch.

And then, he jolted in his seat, his knees audibly hitting the bottom of the table, as you bluntly gripped his cock, prompting pressure from your fist. Most eyes, except Clint’s snoopy lids, flickered over to him, Tony frowning at the interruption to his fathomable rant. The inventor crossed his arms, sternly glaring towards Bucky, and the man’s stunned, gaping expression.

“You got something to say Barnes?” Stark was really making Bucky feel like he was put on the spot, more so considering what was going on beneath the surface of the conference table. You were running your malevolent palm over his forming bulge, coaxing a tightness within his chest.

“I - Uh, no.” He bit his lip, inwardly groaning in silent agony as you expertly undid his belt, reaching in to find that he had gone commando. Bucky wasn’t sure if he regretted it or not, but he sure enjoyed the way that you massaged his length with your cursive wrist movements, wrapping your fist around his girth, and slowly but surely moving your hand up and down his vein designed length.

As you swiped your thumb over his tip, rolling it around the sensitive head, dipping the pad of it into his slit, the head upon his shoulders rotating back, as his shoulders tensed. He could feel his shoulders tense, as he lightly bucked his hips up into your grip, all whilst Tony was blatantly looking down at where he was seated.

“Really, because it looks like you want to choose your bestie’s side on this one.” A snort erupted from your mouth, as Bucky could not help but roll his eyes at the sensation of pleasure that was concerning his lower half, though, Iron Man assumed that it was for him, leaving him to huff at the former assassin.

“What’d you want to do?” Tony reprimanded him, watching as Steve shook his head at his constant concern of opinion. “Come on Barnes, tell us.” A snicker fell from your mouth, causing your boyfriend to frown at you, hoping for some uphold within the situation.

“Yeah James, what do you want to do?” You asked him in a teasing manner, watching as his head rocked all on its own, swaying from the cloudiness fogging the inside of it. “Say Buck, or else it won’t happen.” Bucky gulped, before muttering something inaudible. “Say it louder Buck, so we can all hear.”

This time, his groan rattled in the air, awakening Clint from his half slumber, and making Nat tilt her head at your devilish expression as you smiled amusedly towards your partner. “Want to cum.” And that was when it all clicked for everyone what was really going on.

Expressions of disgust filled the room, as Steve raked his hands through his blonde hair, soon realising that his argument with Tony was no longer worth remaining in the room. “Fuck sake Buck.” With that, the super soldier walked out, leaning Tony to call out and follow after him, “language!”

“Wait, what’s going on?” Peter asked innocently, gathering all that he needed before following after his mentor, making you feel better about the entire predicament once the kid left.

“Coffee machine doesn’t work anyway.” Nat smirked towards your focused expression, strutting out of the room with her unfortunately empty mug, abandoning Clint who had planted his face upon the desk, and began to snore.

Though, that didn’t seem to phase you, instead, Bucky puffed his cheeks as you ran your hand over him faster, causing wet slapping noises to echo from under the conference table. “I’m gonna cum doll, gonna cum. Shit!”

He began to rut his hips upwards again, feeling his ball tighten just before he spilled over your hand, as you gave him a couple more strokes until he emptied, satisfied and relieved when you dismissed your hand, and brought it out from beneath the table.

His hazy eyes squinted as he saw that your palm was painted in his seed, moaning from the sight alone as you raised your hand towards your mouth, using your tongue to clean his slaty essence from your own skin. “Yummy.” You grinned, as Buck leaned back into his seat, feeling spent.

You continued tasting him from your fingers as he clumsily tried and failed to tuck himself back into his pants. His hands flailed, and once you were cleansed of his cum, swallowing it all, you aided him in his self decency struggle, helping him stand as he continued to feel mind blown.

“Should we just leave him there?” Bucky ask in regards to Clint, as the two of you began to leave the room. The archer was still asleep, and drooling upon the top of the table, and as Bucky looked back at him, you dragged him away.

“Unless you want to bring him back to our room, and let him watch the thing that you like so much...” you bit your lips fluttering your eyelashes as Bucky frowned, feeling much more stable as he picked you up and tossed you over your shoulder, carrying you towards your shared bedroom to continue your associations in privacy.

[actiongirlmary-archived]

little 1k excerpt from my post-canon tfw 3.0 wip with jack, kevin & claire <3

~

Jack works a groove into the fabric of the detached headrest in his lap, twisting and turning it between his hands like it holds all the secrets to the universe in its dust-filled crevices. Kevin eyes him wearily from the driver’s seat beside him, trying to figure out what’s had him on edge since they visited the high school this morning.

He honestly doesn’t know. It’s the first case they’ve had in months that hasn’t blown up in their face before they’d solved it, though only metaphorically, seeing as the ringing in his ears has only just settled into a lull. Jack’s always a little sad when they can’t save someone or if they show up after the fact— Claire is too, even if she’s about ten times more stubborn about admitting it. But they’d managed to save the girl— and her soul, too. That’s a win in his book, at least.

He reaches out to fiddle with the sound system but thinks better of it at the last second, glancing back through the rear-view mirror at Claire, whose lying twisted up half-way into a knot in the back seat and using the stuffed elephant she won Jack at the state fair in Delaware last month as a pillow. Food poisoning sucks. Kevin knows that much from experience.

“Why did you call her that?” Jack blurts out, looking like he’s doing it against his will. “Claire.”

“Call her what?” he asks after a second.

“‘Sis.’”

“It’s short for-”

“I know,” he says quickly. He looks down, wringing his fingers. “Why did you call her ��sis?’” Then, quieter, “She isn’t.”

“My sister? I know that.” He’s an only child, and Jack knows that, though he doesn’t know why he thinks Kevin himself wouldn’t.

He nods minutely, rotating the metal prongs of the headrest around his seat belt and twisting it into loops. “Okay.” The duffle of weapons under Kevin’s seat rattles as they hit a patch of uneven road. For whatever reason, Jack’s not too keen on continuing the conversation, fixing his gaze oh so naturally on the scenery rolling by out way past his window.

“Jack?”

“Hmm.”

“What’s up?” He gives a noncommittal hum. He swears, it’s like trying to pull out a tooth, how hard he has to work to get Jack or Claire to say what they actually want to. Fucking Winchester brothers' influence. “What’s up?” he stresses.

Jack glances back at him, like he’s evaluating his chances. Kevin alternates between him and the road, thankful that he does when he sees the pick-up swerving all over the place that’s coming from the opposite direction. Jack sees it too, and he stalls until the orange mess has managed to pass them without making this eons-long day any worse than it had already been. Asshole's probably drunk.

“But she’s not,” he tries again, finally. Kevin lets him take his time to pick it up again. They’ve passed another road sign and are closing in on doing the same to a second when: “So then why did you— say it?”

Jack lets the seat belt unfold from around the headrest, the tension restoring itself with a buzz. “Because it’s a— like a term of endearment. I don’t actually, literally, mean ‘person who is biologically related to me through one or both parents,’” he says. “It’s— You told me Cas is your dad, right?”

“Yes. But not biologically—that’s Lucifer.” Now he’s getting it. He’s just opened his mouth to explain the rest when Jack continues, “So I can’t call Castiel ‘Dad,’ since he isn’t my—” his face falls a little, but not like it's the first time he's come to this conclusion “— ac— my biological dad.”

Fucking Winchester brothers.

“You can,” he says. “You can. Like how Claire calls me ‘little bro’ sometimes—though she just adds the ‘little’ part to be annoying—and I call her ‘sis.’ You can do that to people you’re close to.”

Jack takes that in with a hesitant look, glancing at the headlights up ahead for a fraction of a second and then back to Kevin. “And people are— they’re okay with that?”

“Yeah,” he says, catching himself and lowering his voice back to normal before he continues. “Yeah, definitely. Claire already thinks of you like the little brother she never had, right? And me, too.”

Jack raises his eyebrows, alarmed. “So… So, you would be okay with if I called you. ‘Big bro?’” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, Jack. Yeah, I’d be great with that.”

Jack doesn’t move for a few seconds, before a smile splits his face open. “Okay.” He looks back down and starts to fidget with the headrest again, rolling it back and forth between his hands. Kevin smiles too, beat-up jaw be damned.

Looks like infamous only child Kevin Tran’s got his sibling count up from zero to two in only a matter of months. Snarky hunter woman and baby God are as good a pair of siblings to have as any, right?

“Cool,” he says, drumming on the side of the wheel.

“Cool,” Jack echoes.

~

It’s another few miles of quiet before they reach their exit. Kevin’s taking the right off the highway and towards town when Jack’s phone starts to buzz from its spot resting in his cup holder, and Kevin glances back to see if the rattling has managed to wake Claire. It hasn't.

Cas’ voice is distinctive enough that Kevin can recognize it on the spot as the sound carries the extra foot it needs to go to reach his ear. Calling to check-in, you know— like dad’s do. Honestly— Winchesters.

“We’re just pulling in to the motel now,” Jack says. He can hear the conversation winding down as he takes the keys out of the ignition, stepping out to start stretching his legs. Jack fumbles a few times as he reattaches the headrest to the passenger’s seat, holding the phone to his ear with a shoulder.

“Okay," he says, "goodnight." And, then, locking in the headrest and straightening, he twists his lip and adds—before immediately ending the call—“Alright. Bye, Dad.”

Kevin smiles despite himself again at the move. Fucking Winchester brothers. Classic.

[flowerbeom]

Sweeter Than Pi | Mark Tuan

Mark Tuan x Fem!Reader

Genre: High School AU. Nerd Mark x Athlete Reader. Fluff. F2L.

Warnings: Some squishy ass, fluffy fluff. 

Words: 5.3k

Concept: Your place on the softball team rested on the back of you passing your General Maths midterm. Though Maths was always your worst subject, your genius best friend, Mark, could offer assistance in helping you study. If you could bring yourself and your heart to ask him... 

A/N: Happy Birthday almost twin @inkahgase! Fuck me, I’m sorry this took so long and that it is sooo long. I don’t know how to write short stories. I’m sorry. But I hope you enjoy soft, nerdy, cute AF Mark. Cause bro, this broke me...

“What was that?” Jackson slung the strap of his overfilled duffle onto his shoulder, rounding your desk to sit on the one beside you. Your voice continued to muffle into the pages of the textbook you were flattening your face into. 

Jackson, in all his measured audacity leant forward, flicking your ear as he ripped open the wrapper of a protein bar with his teeth. “Speak up woman.” 

“I failed!” The whining tone of your voice echoed around the empty classroom. You groaned as you tipped your head back over the chair, arms dangling pathetically beside you. You flailed your legs under the table, sliding down the chair a little more with every exasperated kick. 

“It’s just a mock quiz, it means nothing.” Jackson mumbled through chews. 

“Jack, if I failed the mock quiz it means I’m going to fail the mid-term.” Head still slung back over the chair.

“And?” Jackson barely audible, his mouth preoccupied with trying to tongue chunks of his white chocolate raspberry quest bar out of his molars. 

“And?! If I fail the midterm I’ll get kicked off the team!” Jaw dropped to allow for the extended grown to rumble out of your throat, you lifted your hands to card them frustratedly through your hair. 

Having had enough of your self-loathing, Jackson kicked the edge of your chair, knocking you sideways and out of your moaning. You snapped a hand down onto his ankle, steadying yourself from falling and pulling him off the edge of the table at the same time. Jackson broke his fall with a hand smacked against your forehead. Hands were thrown and insults were flying around until the commotion ended with your fingertips twisting the sensitive skin along his ribs. 

“Gah! God, okay okay!” Jackson shifted away, picking up his bag and moving to the door; pausing to see if you were following him. You were, albeit slowly, trudging to the door; dragging your equally overfilled duffle bag behind you. 

“Ever consider getting tutored?” His tone suggestive. 

“Can’t afford it.” Your tone defeated. 

“You really are stupid.” There was no fight in you left, rather acceptance and the vivid image of your softball uniform being stripped from you, leaving you standing in your underwear in the middle of the field. You shuddered at the thought. 

Approaching your lockers, you stood in a daze, fingers mindlessly rotating the dial on your padlock, not even sure if the combination was correct. Suddenly, and as softly as anyone could manage, you felt a shoulder nudge yours. It could only be one person, and you felt your body shrink into itself upon recognising the familiar smell of the fabric softener his mum used on his shirts. 

“Hey!” Effervescent, cheerful and light. You looked up to see Mark standing beside you, the glasses meant to be perched on his nose rather perpetually hovering above it as they were lifted by the plump in his cheeks made by the smile he could never control. Backpack full; books spilled out into his arms, one sleeve of his unzipped hoodie pushed up while the other dangled below his fingertips. The adorable nerd, Mark Tuan. 

You always felt yourself mirror the smile he effortlessly gave you, as if there was no other acceptable response to give him. No matter how grouchy or sullen you may have been, Mark was always this beaming beacon of joy, and it was impossible to resist getting pulled into the overwhelming happiness that seemed to radiate from him. 

If he was smiling, you were too. If he was laughing, you were too. If you were crying, he never had to do much to stop the tears from falling. It had been that way for years, having grown up beside him, literally. Neighbours since birth, playmates in preschool, deskmates in elementary school leading naturally to best friends in high school. You were inseparable, even when his interests leant towards equations and dabbling in applied physics at the college level while yours swung towards swinging bats at balls that soared past the car-park behind the field and making college scouts travel across the country to watch you play. But as thrilling as all that may be, Mark was the spark that lit your days ablaze. Though it was a shame you could never really tell him that. 

“Hey man.” Jackson reached over your head to knock knuckles with Mark; Jackson tipping his chin while Mark smiled even wider, again completely out of his control.  

Jackson, as he liked to remind you and Mark constantly, was the reason you and Mark stayed so close over the years. As your interests and hobbies split down the middle, Jackson provided the glue that held you together. While you and him bonded over a shared love of sports, he and Mark bonded over a shared love of video games. 

So, afternoons were spent waiting at the end of the pitch after softball practice for Jackson to finish soccer training. He’d jog to you, one arm shoved into the sleeve of a fresh t-shirt while the other had his jersey still hanging off the bend in his elbow. You’d walk home together - Jackson never failing to leave a trail of corn chip crumbs behind him and finally ending up on Mark’s couch; splitting your time doing homework together and watching him and Jackson take out Marakov soldiers in Modern Warfare 2. An unlikely trio, though it somehow worked. 

“Oi!” Jackson dug an elbow into the side of your arm, drawing a hiss to rattle the chemistry paper wedged between your teeth. “Ask Mark how his AP Calculus class was.” 

“It was really good, we started on fundamental theorems and.. “ 

Jackson tutted, making a sharp clicking noise with his tongue against his teeth; Mark’s grin dropping slightly at the corners. 

“No no, she has to ask you first.” You shot puzzled eyebrows in Jackson’s direction, shoving a textbook into your already full bag. 

“Why do I need to ask him?” The edges of the chemistry paper nipping against the corners of your lips as you spoke, Mark glanced around you to stare at the indiscernible look on Jackson’s face. 

“Ask him how his AP Calc class was.” Said sharply through gritted teeth. 

“Why?” You and Mark returned in unison, the word drawn out in confusion. 

“Just ask him how his AP Calc class was, goddamn it!” Slamming his locker door shut, Jackson’s eyes growled at you to turn around and do as instructed, but you weren’t one to back down. Ever. 

“Geez, why do I need to ask Mark how his AP Calc class was?! We all know it was ‘amazing’ and ‘interesting’ and that he’s still top of the class, so why are you being an ass!?” 

Tense pause. Loaded silence. Darting eyes. 

“OH MY GOD!” Dropping your bag to the floor, mouth gaping, your test paper billowed to the ground as you spun to face Mark - almost making him drop the books held precariously in his hands as you smacked your hands onto the sides of his arms. Jackson sighed from behind you, an unmistakable roll of his eyes evident in his exasperated breath. 

Mark’s eyes were blown wide, only to be magnified by the refraction of his lenses. You froze for a second, taken aback by the hint of rose tinting his cheeks and the way his lips rounded into a perfect circle of surprise and you wanted to melt into your sneakers but there were more pressing matters at hand. You made yourself believe that there was, no matter how furiously your heart was pounding in your chest. You sucked in a strengthening breath, his glittering eyes would not distract you now. 

“Mark, Mark! Oh my god, Mark!” Your fingers were digging into his biceps, the fullness of them surprising you.

“Yes?” Replying through a giggle, the smile he could never control once again taking over his expression. 

“Mark, can you tutor me?! I swear to god I will fail my Gen Math midterm if you don’t help me!” You were shaking him, wobbling his thin figure in the air as you continued to ramble. “I can’t fail Markie, I can’t get kicked off the team! Not before graduation! Please--” 

“Yes.” Sincere.

“Help me, please Mar--” Almost manic.

“Yes!” Heartwarmingly earnest. 

“--Kie, please! Wait, what?” Stupefied. 

Mark’s eyes folded as his smile widened, his arms tightening their hold on his books as he rocked back on his heels. “Of course I’ll tutor you, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to ask!” 

“You and I both, dude.” Jackson smarted from behind you, his hand gripping onto the strap of your bag to lift you up after you had sunk to your knees from equal measures of shame and appreciation. Your eyes lifted to see Mark fumbling with his bag, one hand shoved into its depths. Taking his pile of books out of his other, Mark grinned so endearingly you swore you felt your heart bounce off your sternum. Fishing out his car keys, Mark gently took his books back into his slender hands.

“I’ll come round after you get home from practice. About six, right?” 

“Right.” Your hand lifted almost robotically to return the dazzling wave Mark gifted you as he skipped down the hallway. 

Mark’s ready eagerness to help you had made your heart swell with affection, and despite every desire to act on your feelings continued to tap away at your sanity, you knew better that someone like Mark was better off with someone who could actually challenge his mind. All you could do was beat him in a foot race. So you let Jackson cup your shoulder and drag you outside; critical paths and parabolas would have to wait, and it seemed trying to ease your heart would have to as well. 

As you wiped away a rogue bead of sweat that trickled down your temple, you asked yourself how someone could look so effortlessly perfect. Walking languidly along the footpath that lined your street, you stared at Mark as you approached your house. Sitting on the front steps of your deck, Mark cradled a text book in one hand; elbows leaning into his knees. From the curve of his wrist, your eyes trailed along the lines of his bare arms to the once, maybe twice, rolled up sleeves of his t-shirt. Your lips found themselves wedged between your teeth. 

Watching one delicate hand lift to push his glasses up his nose, you followed his fingers as they combed back his hair that always fell right back down to tickle his lashes. The setting sun sifted golden through his charcoal hair, as if it was made to reflect the light. And as you rounded your mailbox to walk up the paved path, Mark’s ear pricked to your footsteps and he greeted you how we always did; with one perfect smile and your knees went weak. 

Clutching onto the strap of your duffle bag, you pulled it tighter across your body as Mark rose onto his feet. You met him at the foot of the stairs, one step below the one he stood on. Mark clapped his textbook shut and slung his backpack onto his shoulder. 

“Ready?” You weren’t exactly sure what he was referring to, but if it was the hand that he reached out to gently sweep down your braid, you knew for sure it wasn’t that. He leant forward, glasses slipping down his nose as he tilted his face to look past your shaking eyes to what his fingers were doing. You could smell the eczema cream he rubbed into the back of his elbow as his index finger curled hair behind your ear. It felt like your entire body had broken out in hives, why was his face so close to yours?

“How many deep hits did you dive for? You have so much grass in your hair.” Mark knocked his knuckles into your shoulder, lightly pushing you back before he turned to step towards your front door. Following slowly behind him, you needed to catch your breath or else asking him to tutor would be a massive waste of time. You can’t tutor someone if they’re dead. 

“Come on, those quadratic equations aren’t going to solve themselves!” 

Mark stood there patiently, one hand deep in the back pocket of his jeans while the other held his textbook to his chest. Unlocking the door, you let it swing open before stepping through, Mark close behind you. 

“Bedroom?” Eyes shooting open, you whipped your head around to Mark’s innocent expression.

“Sorry, what? Bedroom, excuse me?” Blinking rapidly with every vowel, you watched Mark slowly tilt his head to the side; his puppy like eyes giving you puppy like confusion. 

“Want to study in your bedroom?” Not a completely outlandish question. Mark had been in your bedroom plenty of times over the course of your friendship. Sleepovers were a plenty and Jackson joined the fray once your duo became a trio. But it had been a while since it was just you and Mark. Alone. In your bedroom. So you deferred, you didn’t need the distraction; for he, in all his tall, slim, attractiveness was one giant distraction already. A disruption of the sweetest kind that you weren’t completely against but you really needed to study. 

“No.” Far too blunt to seem polite. You winced at the your own brashness. 

“No?” Mark’s body seemed to stutter, never having heard you be to short before. 

“Sorry! That sounded so mean! It’s just post-practice me talking.” You let your duffle bag crash to the floor, your hands quick to cup your cheeks to mask the red glow building under the skin. 

“So…?” 

“Dining table! Closer to the kitchen, closer to snacks!” Good save, you thought to yourself as you tapped your belly with one hand, the other resting on your hip. A bad impression of Jackson whenever he wanted to not so subtly tell you and Mark that he was hungry. Amused with the imitation, Mark hooked the straps of his backpack carefully on the back of one of the chairs bordering the dining table before taking out his notes and sitting down. His eyes glanced over to you expectantly. 

“Shall we get started then?” Timidly, you lowered into the seat next to him. Twirling a pen between his fingers like a poker player juggles a chip on their knuckles, Mark showed you nothing but honest determination as he displayed just how incredibly intelligent he was; yet it took a little longer for any of it to rub off on you. 

An hour had passed. Mark was nothing but sweet in his explanations and patient as you continued to endure this special form of torture. Math and Mark; one hard for your brain, the other excruciating on your heart. Every slight brush of his shoulder against yours as he leaned in to see your work sent shivers to crawl down your spine. Every time his hand would pull yours back so he could write the proper formula beside your incorrect answer made all the air block in your lungs. Mark was incredibly intelligent, but pretty dumb when it came to body language. And you were beyond thankful for that. 

Despite your body’s conflicting emotions between emotionally flustered and mentally confused, you had actually made progress. Whatever method Mark used to make you understand what your teachers had failed to teach you was proving a success. Question after question was solved correctly, Mark high-fiving you with the most genuine smile on his face with every tick he inked onto your page. However, expanding equations had shrunk your stomach - snack time was calling, and the time was now. 

“Super spicy or regular spicy?” Calling from the kitchen counter, two varieties of ramen held in each hand. 

“Can you just nuke me a plate of broccoli in the microwave? I’m trying to maintain my figure.” Mark bellowed from the dining table. Brows furrowing together, you threw your head over your shoulder catching Mark doubled over - body shaking with silent laughter upon seeing the look of perplexity on your face. 

“Regular spicy please, heavy on the cheese.” 

Once the narrow in your eyes had dropped and Mark heard the tap pour water into a pot, he turned back to the flat lay of books on the table. He was curious as to how you were doing so badly in class when you had made so much progress beside him. He always knew you were smart, and how focussed you could be - so he wanted to know what had stumped you so badly when it came to math. 

Slipping the textbook off the corner of your notebook, Mark began to thumb through the pages, searching for clues as to where the numbers stopped making sense in your mind. Page after page failed to reveal much; half written questions with notes sloppily taken in rushed handwriting that he knew wasn’t like you. 

Picking up the notebook, Mark closed it to gather the bottom corners under his thumb to start flicking through the pages rapidly. His eyes scanned the pages as they flew past, a chunk of blank pages ended with meticulously written words at the back of the notebook. Laying the notebook down, he smoothed out the spine so the pages stayed open on the table. Mark felt his lips carve a smile into his cheeks, his eyes following the intricate curves of your handwriting across the page. 

“Is this why you’re failing Gen Math?” A chuckle finished the question he threw behind him. 

“What?” Fumbling with a bag of shredded cheese as you answered him.

“Who’s got you so distracted in class?” 

“What are you talking about?” Rounding the counter with both bowls in hand, you froze one step away from the table; Mark’s index finger drawing an invisible line under the words who had written in the back of your notebook.

“I’m not being obtuse, but you’re acute guy.” You placed both bowls on the table, mainly because you’re hands had started to go numb.

“You are one well-defined function.” You lowered slowly into the seat next to Mark, fingertips clawing into your knees.

“Mark…” Voice shaky at best. 

“Oh this one is good. If I went binary, you’d be the one for me.” His soft laughter jiggled his glasses down his nose as your hand lifted to gently pull your notebook away from him. 

“Mark, stop please..” 

“Oh no, no this one’s my favourite.” Watching his finger hover below the last sentence on the page, you felt your body heating up from its core. Nervousness pulsated from the depth of your stomach and radiated through your skin. You saw his eyes crinkle at their corners, his ears twitching as he grinned. 

“You are sweeter than Pi.” He turned to you at that moment; cheeks plump, smile intoxicating. A wave of anxiety crashed over you. 

“No wonder you’re failing. Dude, seriously, who’s got you so distracted?!” Mark was asking you as if he really didn’t know; and a part of you wanted it to stay that way. You wanted to leave him in his naive innocence and continue on being brilliant, and wowing college mathematicians with his insight and natural numerical skill. You wanted him to find someone who would be just as excited about binomials and integrals as he was or at least someone who could understand them.

Mark lifted his arm to sling his elbow over the back of the chair. Combing back his hair with his other hand, he pushed up his glasses with his thumb before flicking you in the shoulder, and you knew it was because you looked like an idiot. Your face held no expression, your body was frozen in place. 

You knew pressure. You knew what it felt like having everything on the line. You knew what it meant to have both joy and sorrow rest in your hands. So in that moment, you would have gladly taken loaded bases, deep hit into left field, sun in your eyes as you lined up your mitt to take the last catch that would secure the last out to win the game. You would have gladly taken the chance to lose the championship over the way Mark was staring at you. Over the way his sparkling eyes were boring into you expectantly for an answer you weren’t sure he was ready for. Or more so, one you were about to give. Especially if it was the wrong one. 

“So, who is it?” But Mark always got the right answer. 

“You.”  

The pen Mark was twirling between fingers his crashed onto the table. An exaggeration, but everything seemed heightened after you somewhat easily confessed your feelings to Mark. Your hands had found themselves back on your knees, and your lips had found themselves between your teeth. Mark pulled his arm off the back of the chair and mirrored your stance, yet you noticed him swallow roughly. Your heart stammered at the sight. 

“We’re not even in the same class anymore..” You fought the urge to laugh, Mark’s charming naivety cutting through the tension in the air, his eyes twinkling in your direction. Lips parting to pull in a breath, you blew loose strands of hair off your forehead before letting your shoulders relax. Mark was doing it again, comforting you in his own special way. In the way only he could, even if he didn’t know he was doing it. 

“That’s the way it is, isn’t it? Love..” 

“You-you… love me?” Mark pushed up his glasses with both hands, swinging his legs around to face you; his knees merely grazing past like a single gentle flap of a butterfly’s wing. You sunk into your shoulders, there was no turning back now. 

“It’s funny right? How you stopped being in my classes years ago, but as soon as I look at an equation my mind flips and all I can think about is you. How funny is that?” Leaning forward to lean an elbow onto the table and your cheek into your hand; your eyes locked on Mark. He held your stare but you were caught in the unravelling of your own sanity to see how his eyes were flitting across your face. 

“Man it’s so funny. Mr. Grant stands at the chalkboard and starts drawing up some parabolic graph, and all it does is remind me of your smile. I open up my textbook and start reading about perfect angles and all that I can compute is the goddamn perfect angles of your cheekbones against your jaw.” You were laughing now, completely out of control. You weren’t even aware of what you were saying, the words simply falling out of your mouth. Blame it on dehydration, practice was gruelling; sure you could do that - but you simply kept talking. You weren’t even looking at Mark anymore.

“I try you know? I try really hard to study. And it’s only maths. I ace every other subject - I have no issue with Lit or History. Go, ask me anything about the Balkan War, I know it all. But Maths, phwoah..” Your head tipped back against the chair, your braid swinging behind it. 

“Maths, man I can’t even concentrate. All I see is your face in the numbers. All I can think about is your laugh when someone starts reciting algebra formulas. And when exams come around, I’m stumped.” Mark jumped in his seat when you shouted out a laugh. 

“I stare and stare at the exam paper and think about how you would solve every question and how quickly you would have done it. And once I’m thinking about you, that’s it. I’m gone.” Your rambling halted when Mark reached out his hand and placed it atop yours. Lowering your head back to level with his eyes, you saw the sheer shock in them. You swallowed dryly, the realisation of the utter madness you had spat out finally overwhelming you. Mark scooted forward in his chair, clearing his throat and lifting a shaking head to sweep his fringe off his eyes. 

“You know, Madison Kim asked me out in the same way.” Your hands went limp, the weight of your heart dropping into your stomach caused your shoulders to slump forward. You were an idiot. Literally, figuratively, emotionally. Of course Madison Kim would have asked him out the same way. She may be a genius, but she was an airy head girl, who in all honesty would be a fool to not ask out the gorgeous man who sat beside her in AP Calc every day. 

You shifted back in your seat, but Mark’s hand tightened around yours; your eyes darting up to find a softness in his eyes you had never seen before. In the entirety of your lives together, you had never seen that look, and it terrified you. 

“She asked me out with silly little mathematical pick up lines that she slipped into my textbook and I turned her down.” You could feel your teeth grind against each other. Your tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth as you swallowed down the saliva that had pooled beneath it. Mark scooted forward a bit more, taking your other hand in his. 

“Do you know why I turned her down?” A simple smile painted across his lips, his fingers curling around your palms. You shook your head, too afraid to speak; too afraid to let your stupidity form any more sentences than it already had. 

“Because she isn’t you.” A breath caught in your throat. Then swiftly gulped down with the lump that had clung to your tonsils. 

“Wh-what?” Mark sighed through his nostrils, a sweet tender exhale as his thumb drew circles into the back of your hand. 

“Since we’re confessing, I’ll go next.” Mark straightened, lifting his chin as if to give his valedictorian speech. “I never told you I love you because I never thought I was right for you. That I wasn’t the guy to make you happy.” 

Your chin dropped into your chest, eyes folding in amusement; your shoulders bouncing as you chuckled. 

“Now why would you think that?” Speaking into your stomach before looking up at him with a tilted head and an angled grin. Mark released his hold on one of your hands to hold his nape instead, fingers rubbing into the skin; a flush of embarrassment evident in the pink smoothing over his cheeks. 

“I don’t know.. I just thought that you’d prefer someone who could keep up with you. I can barely do a push up..” Timid and a little hushed; Mark darted his eyes around the room before slowly meeting your gaze. Like him, you straightened, shifted forward in your seat and retrieved his hand from his neck to lace your fingers between his. 

“Then I guess we’re both stupid.” Mark’s confused puppy expression returned to his face, and you suppressed a giggle to answer the question his eyes silently asked you. 

“I never told you I love you because I didn’t think I was smart enough for you. That sooner rather than later, you’d get bored of me..” The flush of pink that had filled his cheeks crept over yours; you bit down on your top lip. Mark stared at how your bottom lip plumped into a pout and felt his heart stutter at the sight.

“We’ve known each other our whole lives, you think I would’ve gotten bored of you by now.” 

“Hey!” Ducking but failing to dodge the sharp whack that your hand delivered on his arm, Mark grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him. Lifting his other hand, Mark hesitated for a second before reaching forward, gently cupping your cheek. You swore he could feel how hot you were, your cheeks burning so fiercely you were afraid his fingers would singe. But he didn’t pull away. He kept his hand tenderly pressed against your cheek and you began to drown in the smile he gave you. Another one of his perfect smiles. 

“Let’s not be stupid anymore, yeh?” Blinking softly, his bottom lip folded between his teeth as he awaited your answer. Leaning forward, closing the space between your faces, you took a moment to catch the glimmer in his eyes. Whether it was the light catching in his lenses or the spark they naturally held; you wanted to get lost in the magic of them. But he was waiting, and Mark always got the right answer. 

“Okay.”

His kiss was as tender as you imagined it to be. His lips were as soft as you had dreamt them to be and you could feel him smiling against yours. Breaking the kiss, Mark pulled back to rest his forehead against yours as he drew in a breath. You weren’t sure if you were breathing, but you could see his glasses begin to fog so you knew you must have been. 

Both sitting back, you stared at each other silently; your hands fitting perfectly in each other’s. Yet the gaze was fleeting, both you and Mark breaking into laughter; possibly from the haphazard confessions or your shared stupidity. Either way, the air was clear and the problem of your irrational hearts solved. Mark would have enjoyed that the most; solving a seemingly unquantifiable problem and the thought made you feel warm. 

“Now I’m even more screwed.” Mark hummed quizzically in response, reaching under his chair to pull it closer to yours; letting his thigh press against yours as he removed the space separating you.

“Now I really won’t be able to focus on Maths...” Mark laughed with his entire chest, head tipping back to let laughter tumblr out of his mouth, yet his hand never let go of yours. Finally regaining composure, Mark angled his body to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. Reactively, and almost naturally, your arms weaved around his neck. A single giggle fluttered through his lips before he spoke.

“I guess I’m just going to have to tutor you every day until the numbers make sense.” 

Trying not to let any laughter flicker out, despite your heart racing in your chest; you thought that you could be a little bold. “Do I get a kiss for every answer I get right?” 

Mark edged forward, touching the tip of his nose against yours. 

“Of course.” Mark briskly pressed his lips against yours as a full stop to his statement. Giggling as he pulled away, his arms slid off your waist to turn you back towards your notes. 

“Come on, you have three more equations to solve then we’re done, and we still have to eat. I’m starving!” Flailing in your chair in protest, Mark silenced your whining with another kiss planted onto your cheek. 

“I’m not going to go any easier on you cause we’re dating now.” You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell. Picking up your pen, you slid over your notebook that was still in front of Mark. Turning back to the page you were on, you gave Mark one last narrow-eyed look. 

“A kiss for every correct answer, remember.” You nodded in agreement. He was a brilliant tutor after all. And a cute one at that. Because he was Mark Tuan, the adorable nerd. Mark Tuan, your adorable nerd. 

[ericsonclan]

A Bit Tied Up

Summary: Gabe is out in the woods when suddenly he falls victim to a hidden trap and here's someone approaching...

Word Count: 2571

Read on A03: 

Gabe sighed as he ventured further into the forest. He hadn’t been able to find Jimmy anywhere. The one rule of the buddy system – the whole point of the buddy system really – was not to leave your buddy so that you’d have someone to watch your back. But of course Jimmy had run ahead like an idiot to investigate something and now they were separated. He couldn’t return to the main group without him and he couldn’t call out to him for fear of drawing muertos so Gabe was stuck aimlessly walking through the forest looking for his truant buddy.

As Gabe wandered deeper into the forest and off the road, he looked around to make sure he knew his way back and didn’t have any muertos on his tail. He could only afford to go so far and then it would be too dangerous to continue. He’d have to report back to the main group and get their help in tracking down Jimmy. But Gabe didn’t want to have to face Javi and tell him he’d lost his buddy. After two years of going on scouting missions, Gabe should be able to do something as simple as keep track of his buddy, even one as squirrely as Jimmy.

He was walking by a tree when he heard it: a soft thunk as if something was shifting and an almost imperceptible whooshing sound. Before he could react, Gabe felt himself being lifted into the air. He let out a surprised cry as his body flipped upside down as he rocketed upwards, bouncing a bit before settling several feet in the air. Glancing up with effort, Gabe could just make out the rope that had caught and held his foot. Considering how tight it felt on his leg, he wasn’t slipping loose anytime soon.

Taking a deep breath, Gabe mustered all his strength and tried to lift himself far enough to reach his ankle. He only made it up a few inches though before flopping back in defeat. Gritting his teeth, Gabe tried again and again, but he couldn’t get anywhere close to his ankle. For all the apocalypse had done in terms of toughening him up, his upper body strength was still shit. His knife had also dropped from his hands when the trap yanked him off his feet. It lay useless on the ground beneath him.

So… what now? Was Jimmy anywhere nearby? Would he find help and cut Gabe down? Or would Javi and the rest of the surveillance team realize he was missing and track him down? Given his current predicament, there was no way Gabe could risk calling for help. In his current position if a muerto came by, he was as dead as a sitting duck. He’d have to wait and hope that the blood rushing to his head wouldn’t cause him to pass out before he was found.

A rustling noise came from the bushes in front of him. Gabe’s heart immediately skyrocketed. What was that? If it was anyone other than the New Richmond group, he was dead. He hadn’t even considered the possibility that whoever set this trap might check it before help arrived. Please let it be a rabbit. Please let it be a rabbit, Gabe repeated to himself as he desperately wriggled in hopes of breaking free. All that accomplished was setting his body in a slow spin, blocking Gabe’s view of where the sound was coming from. He’d have no way to defend himself if attacked from behind, not even his hands. Wiggling frantically, Gabe tried to speed his spin so he was facing forward again.

By the time he’d made it full circle, Gabe found himself face to face with a stranger. It was a girl with short black hair and dark brown eyes. She looked to be about his age. Gabe’s eyes widened in shock at the sight. Before he could say anything though, he realized that his continued wiggling had increased his momentum. His body was still spinning. Going slack, Gabe tried to get himself to stop. Instead he only slowed his second circuit, rotating at a crawl until he finally stopped in front of the girl once more.

Her face was a few inches above his own. Looking Gabe over, the girl seemed to eye him with curiosity. Gabe noted the knife she held within her hand, not raised but still drawn. The girl didn’t speak for what felt like forever to Gabe, simply observing him as he dangled upside down before her. But finally, her mouth opened. “You’re not a rabbit,” A mischievous grin pulled at her lips. “That’s alright. I’m not picky,”

Fuck. Shit. She’s gonna eat me! If Gabe hadn’t been in full-blown panic before, he certainly was now. Starting to writhe in desperation, he screamed out for help. “Javi! Jimmy! Anybody! He-” He was cut off as a hand pressed harshly against his mouth, the other holding the back of his head in place.

“Shit, sorry!” the girl exclaimed, looking at him apologetically. “Should’ve realized how that joke would come across in your position. If I uncover your mouth, do you promise you won’t scream and send more stumblers our way?”

Gabe could still feel his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. Between the terror and the blood rush to his head, he didn’t feel like he was thinking straight at all. But the girl’s eyes were calm as she spoke to him. She was right – screaming would get them both killed. The only thing he could do was helplessly nod.

“Thank you,” The girl removed the hand over Gabe’s mouth, taking a small step back. “Not the smoothest introduction I’ve ever made, though surprisingly not the worst. I’m Nurgul. And you are?”

“Dizzy,”

“Crap, that’s right! Here, let me fix that for you. I’m not sure if I can give you the softest landing, but I’ll try to break your fall. Just let me reach up and…” the girl grunted in effort as she tried to reach the rope. “Got it! You’ll be down in just a sec,” After a few seconds of sawing, the rope began to fray. Gabe could feel the weight on his ankle shifting before suddenly the remaining rope snapped in half. Gabe fell straight down, expecting a rough collision, but instead heard a soft grunt and felt arms wrap round him. Tumbling to the ground, Gabe felt his head spin for a moment as he tried to get his bearings. His head was lowered onto the forest floor before the girl’s face hovered over his again – Nurgul.

“Doing OK?” she asked, looking somewhat concerned at his current state.

“Y-yeah,” Gabe tried to sit up only to fall back on the ground with a moan, his head pounding.

“Don’t try to move yet. I think your body needs time to adjust the blood flow. How long were you upside down for?” Nurgul sat down beside Gabe on the ground, her knife now tucked in the sheath at her hip.

“A few minutes, I think? It wasn’t that long,” Gabe looked round them, wondering if anyone else would be coming searching for him or Nurgul.

As if reading his mind, Nurgul answered his unspoken question. “I have a group. Quite a large one actually. Do you?”

Gabe searched Nurgul’s eyes, wondering what the right answer was. He shouldn’t show all his cards, but he didn’t want to come across as helpless either. “I have a group too. They’re probably looking for me now,”

“In that case, I should probably head out back to my people and leave you to find yours. Think you can defend yourself if you need to?”

Gabe glanced over at his dagger on the ground beside him. Grasping it, he weakly nodded.

Nurgul seemed unconvinced. “I’ll give you a few more minutes, at least till you can sit upright. But If I see anyone, I’m booking it out of here,” Scooting over, she sat beside the tree, resting her head against the trunk.

Gabe watched her curiously. To his knowledge, there weren’t any communities anywhere near here. Yet if she was checking a rabbit trap, it must mean that her group had somewhat settled down in this region and she said the group was quite large. Could it be a community they hadn’t heard of yet? New Richmond had made contact with all known ones in the area and tried to establish positive relationships with each one.

“What’s on your mind?” Nurgul’s gaze was even as she looked back at him.

“Your name,” Gabe lied. “It’s unusual,”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. It’s Kazakh. It means “moon flower”. Now that I think about it, I never got your name. Unless it’s actually Dizzy which would be pretty funny,”

“It’s Gabe. Or Gabriel if we’re being formal,”

“What does it mean?”

Gabe’s forehead wrinkled in thought. “I actually have no idea,”

Nurgul chuckled at that. “How’s your head feeling? Can you sit up now?”

“Probably,” Gabe’s head still pounded a bit as he shifted into a sitting position, but after a few seconds of stillness he felt like he could handle it.

“So…” Nurgul dragged the toe of her shoe through the dirt before looking up at him. “Is your group passing through or are they here to stay?”

There was the question they were both dancing around. The more they showed their cards, the more they risked the other turning on them if they thought they could get something out of it. Looking at Nurgul though, Gabe didn’t sense any hostility. With matters like this, it was better to go with your gut than let paranoia set in. “We’re scouting the area. We live nearby. And your group? Passing through or staying?”

It was clear Nurgul was considering her answer carefully. “We may settle down if we can find something that works,”

She wasn’t part of a community then, just a group. She’d said they were large though, but what did “large” mean. Gabe decided to go for it; if they were to become neighbors, better to meet them now.

“And how many are in your group?”

Nurgul glanced his way before looking to the side. “Sixty three,”

“Sixty- sixty three? And you haven’t settled down in a community yet?” Gabe asked in disbelief.

“We are a community. Or were. Our home was lost to another community. It was either flee or be taken prisoner. So we ran,”

Gabe had heard stories like this. Most ended with far fewer survivors though, lone wanderers who told the story of their entire community being slaughtered. A war was spreading along the coast, one that New Richmond and its allies prayed to avoid. For an entire community to escape with that many living survivors from the war zone was unheard of. That either meant they had travelled a great distance or that the war was far close than New Richmond had expected. Looking over a Nurgul, Gabe could tell that the memory of their flight had saddened her. “I’m sorry for your loss,”

“Thank you,” Nurgul eyed Gabe with caution before speaking further. “Is your group friendly? Because you seem friendly. But then again, you can never really know these days,”

Gabe shrugged. “I think we’re friendly. A couple years back before I got there, the group was actually a lot worse. But leadership changed and…” Gabe paused, the memory of his father’s death flooding his senses. Shaking his head, he cleared his mind. “Things got better. My uncle is in charge now, along with some others on the council. He’s a really nice guy,”

Nurgul nodded thoughtfully. “That’s good. We don’t want to settle somewhere only to lose it all again. We’re not trespassing on anyone’s territory, right? Are we on your community’s land?”

Gabe shook his head. “No, you’re still a good distance from us. I’m not sure if this is the best place to settle though. The hills round here sort of form a basin and when herds pass through here, they get sort of stuck for a while. Plus there’s no buildings round here sturdy enough to withstand a herd. We came over this way to map things out and look for resources, but I don’t think we’d ever settle anyone here, not even a base of operations,”

“Oh,” Nurgul’s voice was soft, her eyes somewhat sad. It was clear she was worried for her people. Looking at the layer of dirt on her skin and clothes, it seemed they’d been on the road for a while. She must be eager to settle somewhere safe.

Gabe could relate. He never wanted to go back to the life he’d lived on the road with his family for the first four years since the world ended. “I don’t know how much it would help, but maybe my uncle could meet with your leader and help you guys find somewhere to settle. We want to know all the neighboring communities that live nearby us so we can all help each other out and, well,” Gabe paused, wondering if it was too sensitive a topic to bring up.

“What is it?”

“If your community left because of the war going on down south, my uncle would probably want to hear details about that as well so we can prepare in case it spreads,”

Nurgul’s expression was grim. “I pray it never reaches you. The things that are happening down there…” she shook her head. It was beyond words. “I’ll speak with my leader, let him know that I met someone who might be able to help. But if you don’t live nearby, how will we be able to contact you?”

Gabe considered that for a moment. “There’s a road about a quarter mile from here. If you head down the road another mile, you get to what used to be one of those scenic overlooks. It’s called Pleasant Point. You tell your leader about us and I’ll tell my uncle. If we decide we want to meet your group, we’ll send people to that spot in three days. They can talk strategy then,”

“Sounds like a sound plan,” Nurgul rose to her feet, smiling as Gabe did the same. “Headache’s all gone?”

“Yep, back to normal,” Gabe rolled his neck round as proof.

“Good. Well, I hope to see you again, Gabe, if all goes well. It was a pleasure capturing you,”

“The pleasure was all mine,” Gabe replied before realizing how awkward that sounded and tugging self-consciously on the corner of his beanie.

Nurgul chuckled at the gesture. “Until we meet again,” With that she was off, quickly disappearing amongst the underbrush once more. Gabe was left alone, watching the place where she’d disappeared. That had certainly been an odd interaction. Now he really had to get back to the group though. Hopefully Jimmy had found his way back as well. The sky had begun to take on an orange tint; they wouldn’t have light much longer. Walking back toward the road, Gabe wondered how Javi would take the news of the girl he had met and the story she’d told. He hoped coming across her had been a good thing. If what Nurgul said had been true, her group may have crucial information to the future of New Richmond. And Gabe was determined to protect his home, no matter what.

[primusparry]

Peyton gets a booboo

Peyton: [Absolutely nothing, not one thing had changed after that kiss, which meant, all thoughts and fantasies that my lips were somehow magical and would convince Paradise that she was madly, deeply in love with me, were just that. A solo show starring me, myself and Rosy Palm, raw from all the… yeah. We'd returned to the training facility the next night, easy banter among the soldiers and brothers as we paired off for rotation, nothing out of the ordinary. Which of course, disappointed the most moronic part of me that would always pine for a relationship that would never be. Paradise had locked me into the friend zone years ago and thrown away the key. Someday, I hoped, I'd come to terms with that. But tonight was not that night. Had she glanced my way a few times more than usual? And her cheeks were flushed from the cold night air when I first caught sight of her. Nothing more. But damn if a few seconds of swapping spit hadn't scrambled my brain worse than any herbal paranoia ever could. My mental self beat down took me deep into the urban arteries of Caldwell, barely a word passing between myself and Blay as we headed into the night. We knew the grid we were covering well, the where's and when's we were supposed to cross paths and check in. I was thankful for the familiar terrain tonight, because Scribe knew I probably couldn't handle anything more than a trainee level workload.]

Parry:

*I’ve been worried that that kiss would make things awkward between Pey and I, and I’m afraid that I was right. Everyone was chatting and joking around as usual as we meet up at the training center to pair off for rotation the night after the party at my house- but Pey and I barely spoke to each other at all before we headed out. I try not to overthink things as Xcor and I patrol our territory. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about that kiss, but I know that I already miss the easy camaraderie between my best friend and I. It took us so long to get it back after the fights when we first joined the program, and now it’s gone again just like that. Shoving such thoughts onto my brain’s back burner, I mentally berate myself. Get your head in the game, girl! Going into the field distracted is an excellent way to get yourself seriously hurt- or worse.

I wave at Novo as we cross paths with her and Phury, same thing again a few minutes later with Craeg and Balthazar. After teaming up with the latter pair to take down a group of lessers, we parted ways again, both teams searching for their next targets.

Peyton: [It wasn't long before the squawk of action came over our ear-comms, my shit kickers stalling when I heard that Parry was in the frey. Even as my eyes continued to scan, I listened intently, not inhaling again until I heard the barked, "all clear." Sound in my ear. Relief washed the tension from my shoulders just as I rounded a corner… and came face to face with half a dozen lessers I hadn't scented because they were down wind. Fuck! Drawing my weapons as I gave a sharp whistle for Blay who had split off in the opposite direction a few meters back, I got a few rounds popped off, watched two of the six drop, at least momentarily, before another three took me to the ground. Guns useless at this aimless range, I grabbed for the knives sheathed at my side. Slashing with strategic strokes, I flinched briefly from the blinding light of sending one fucker back to the Omega, only to cry out through gritted teeth as the other gripping my wrist and forced my own hand down, knife point glinting as this powder stenched fucker pushed my own fucking knife into my thigh as the third found my other arm back, blocking my own defense. How the fuck was I going down like this?

In the next blink, the weight of the one on my chest was gone as the one stabbing me with my own weapon was blown backwards. Ignoring the searing pain in my thigh, I knew it was Blay at the top of the alley as I leveled myself onto one elbow, lifted my sig and downed another couple of albino assholes. Struggling to my feet, I kept watch as Blay surged up the alley and made quick work of sending each of the half holey, wriggling dick weeds back to their maker. Chest heaving as the last pop dissipated, I looked down, hand braced on the brick wall beside me I swayed on my feet.] I think he nicked my femmy femoral… [and that was all I could muster before the lights went out.]

Parry:

*I'd just stopped a human man from harassing a woman behind a club when Blay’s voice hit my ear through the comms. Peyton is badly hurt after a run in with a squad of lessers, and Blay is getting him to the mobile medical unit. I freeze, scared and worried for my friend. But then I am suddenly also furious. Blame it on all the introspection during the previous day, but all I can think about is all the crap Pey spewed when we were joining the program, about the possibility of me getting hurt. Well, looks like you’re not so invincible yourself, are you, you bastard?!

I resist the urge to head over to the mobile unit immediately to check on him, because I don’t want to get in the doc’s way while he’s being treated. I’m also more than slightly tempted to kick his ass myself right now, and that obviously wouldn’t help anything at all. Struggling not to bare my fangs, I take off running in search of another fight, ignoring Xcor calling my name behind me. I hear his footsteps like louder and heavier echoes of my own as he follows me, cursing. Then I see three lessers down an alley. I grin as I pull my daggers out, thinking ‘perfect….’*

Peyton: [I blinked in and out of consciousness for I don't know how long. First it was Manny, looking like an archangel from the Fade, leaning over me to block out the blinking fluorescents. The bumps that jostled my body, shooting pain to places I didn't know could hurt, told me I was in the mobile medical unit. Yippee! A delirious laugh answered whatever question he was asking me, and I knew either the good shit was getting pumped into my veins, or I was close to the end. I really hoped it was the first.] Par… Parry. [The roll of his eyes told me that I wasn't close to a right answer, then his face was gone and I faded again. The next time I woke it was to a much smoother ride, the gurney, taking me to the clinic was my best bet. Warm and fuzzies filling my heavy head, I closed my eyes again. At least if I was going unto the Fade it would be from a place where I matter. Where my people would know, and at least a few might give a shit that I was gone. My father would only be disappointed that I hadn't OD'ed in my bedroom like he'd always predicted.]

Parry:

*I just finish stabbing the last lesser back to the Omega when I’m suddenly grabbed from behind. I’m about to retaliate when I realize that it isn’t the enemy who has me in his grip, it’s Xcor. He spins me around and slams me against the brick wall and gets all up in my face, absolutely furious. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” He demands. “Do you _want_ to get yourself killed? Cause if so, too damn bad. It won’t be happening on my watch, female. You want to fight, beat the shit out of something? Fine. We’ll go back to the training center and I’ll spar with you in the gym as much as you want. Otherwise, I’m going to tell Tohr to take you off rotation until you can keep your head together. These are your only two options, because you really can’t be in the field right now.” I open my mouth to retort angrily- but then I realize that he’s 100 percent right. Hell, wasn’t I literally just thinking how dangerous distraction can be? Wrestling my temper under control, I nod.* Ok then. Let’s hit the gym. *Xcor nods, and hits the comms to let everyone know we were leaving the field. Then I close my eyes, and it takes a moment but I’m able to scatter my molecules and demat back to the training center. Xcor appears right beside me, and the two of us head inside and down the hall to the gym. We take off our jackets and all our various weapons and lay them on a bench before walking out onto the mats. Xcor sinks down into a defensive posture, and the look on his face is calm and patient as he waits to see what I’m going to do next. I go after him, holding nothing back. We fight until I’m limping- thanks to a good roundhouse kick on his part to swipe my legs out from under me- and pouring sweat as I walk over to grab a towel and sit on the benches for a breather. Wiping my face as I accept a bottle of water from him, I look up at him as he stands towering above me. “Go on.” He says, nodding at the doors with a slight smile. “Go take a shower and then check on your… friend. The medics have to have him settled in at the clinic by now, and you’ll feel better once you see for yourself how he’s doing.” I note the slight pause before the word ‘friend,’ as if he’d been wanting to say something else instead. Something like “your male.” Not that Peyton is mine or ever likely to be, but we’re best friends and everyone here knows it. Why wouldn’t I be worried about him at such a time? Rather than comment on or try to correct Xcor’s assumption, I simply nod and thank him for his help, and get up to head over to the female’s locker room. Quick shower and towel off, and I pull some clean clothes on and pull my hair back in a braid before going over to the clinic. Finding the room Peyton’s been placed in, I walk right in. He’s sleeping- or appears to be- and there’s no visible injuries or bandages. However and wherever he’s hurt, it’s somewhere under the blankets, not on his face or arms. I pull a chair over to the bedside and take my best friend’s hand, getting comfy and settling in to wait for him to wake up.

Peyton: [I knew Dr. Manny had poked and prodded for a while. I vaguely recall mumbling some semblance of answers to questions I thought they were asking. There was something about feeding, when I last had, or that I would need to, something. Then, I guess they figured maybe it wasn’t Fade time for me, because he left me alone to enjoy my morphine induced sleep. It was a very familiar scent that roused me from that sleep. One that I knew as well as my own as it plagued my dreams and my nightmares equally.

Paradise.

My pulse kicked into high gear, the little blood I had left in my body pumping through my veins. Her soft, warm, not at all warrior callused hand on mine, had my lashes fluttering, trying to open, the best I could manage was a crack as my lids felt like there were anvils sitting on top of them. My wrist worked though, and I turned it, so that I could lace my fingers with hers, a gravelly barely perceptible laugh scratching up my throat when I spied the worry lines creasing her otherwise perfect brow. If I was any higher, I might think an angel had come to take me to heaven. But no, that was human religion. I was a vampire and so was she.] Careful. You keep scowling at me like that and your face might get stuck like that.

Parry:

*Well, that figures. Even badly injured, barely conscious, and no doubt high as a kite from the pain meds and such, Peyton just can’t help being a smartass. I roll my eyes and give a distinctly unladylike snort, even as I give his hand a gentle squeeze* Oh, please. If that hasn’t happened by now after dealing with you for years, it never will! *Then I drop the attempt at levity and get very serious as I look into his barely open eyes.* So, what the hell even happened out there tonight? Blay said something about you running straight into a big squad of lessers. Sweet Scribe, Pey, what in the world were you thinking?!

Peyton: [Her anger had my scowl mirroring hers. I was confused and immediately defensive with her coming at me. As if I needed more reassurance that the random kiss meant absolutely nothing to her. Pain pulsed from my heart to my newly resown leg and I wished in that moment that the lessers had done a better job. Sucking in a deep breath through my nose, I winced as the expansion of my chest sent another spike of agony through my battered body.] Yes, we ran into them. As in, turned a corner and they were there. And I was thinking, "Hey, the enemy...guess I should do my job and kill these fuckers before they go after an innocent civilian, or better yet, my partner." [Turning drug heavy eyes up to hers, I arched a brow,pulling my hand from her grip.] If you've sufficiently laid into me, I'd like to get back to sleep. I was having a great dream. You didn't treat me like shit and let me put my dick in your mouth. [Pressing my lips together, I turned my head to face the wall. It was a shit thing to say, but my pain level, inside and out had my filter torn to shreds. I was sure she'd have more to say as I wish Manny would come back in with another shot of morphine.]

Parry:

*My temper fires up again at his deliberately crude words, insult and shock slamming through me* Unbelievable! I didn’t come here to be insulted, Pey. I came to check on my friend, even though I’m seriously pissed off and would really like to take a swing at you myself right now. After all, you were so worried about me getting hurt if I joined the program, but which one of us ended up here in the clinic tonight? You did. And I got so distracted when the news came over the comms that Xcor had to pull me off the streets, and that’s after I spent way too much time overday thinking about that damn kiss…. *I break off my rant, realizing that I’ve let loose and said entirely too much. I fight not to blush as I pull myself together and stand up.* I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Maybe I should just go…

Peyton: [The spike of ire was too intense to ignore. It fed the injured, predator inside of me. Jaw clenched, my chest ached in time with the pulse of pain in my thigh, which only proved to wear away at my filter further.] For fucks sake, Paradise, I get that you regret the damn kiss. Kick me while I'm down why don't you? So what I ended up in the clinic? Every one of us does at some point. What? Disappointed that I'm going to pull through? Sorry to disappoint, because if you coming in here and laying into me the minute I open my eyes is your idea of checking up on me, thanks but no thanks. [I hadn't realized I was yelling until a very loud knock at the door had me shutting my mouth. Glaring at the interruption, my features softened when I saw Dr. Manny followed by the chosen Amalya. Cursing under my breath, I studiously ignored Parry, trying my best to look apologetic.] My apologies, Chosen. Doctor. Please, come in. [Casting a scathing glare at her, I sneered as she got to her feet.] Last chance to take a swing, Parry. I'll be good as new in no time.

Parry:

*I’m about to snap back at him when a knock sounds at the door, and Doc Manny walks in with a gorgeous female- and not just any female, a Chosen. The directrix herself, if I’m not mistaken. And of course, she’s got to be here to feed Peyton. Their presence helps me rein in my temper once more, though I feel an unexpected and unsettling twinge in my chest at the thought of Peyton taking Amalya’s vein. I decide it would probably be best to use their entrance to excuse my leaving. After greeting the new arrivals, I turn back to Peyton.* I’ve already apologized for losing my temper, but will do so again if it’ll make you feel better. I truly didn’t mean to snap at you, and I really am sorry for it. As for regrets, I don’t recall saying that I had any. Because I don’t, unless the… event in question ends up messing up our friendship and causing problems between us. I might come back after nightfall to check on you again, once we’ve had a chance to cool down, but right now I’ll just go and leave you to your feeding. I’ll see you later. *after bowing to the Chosen again and nodding to Manny, I walk out of the room and demat home to my father’s mansion, my emotions even more tangled than before.*

Peyton: [The scowl that furrowed my brow as she said her piece and left telegraphed my confusion. She...didn't regret…? What in Dhund did that mean? Because if she felt anything besides friendship or hatred towards me, basically the two emotions that ran hand and hand in mine and Paradise's relationship, she had a pretty messed up way of showing it. And why after all this time…? Shaking myself from my thoughts as a knot of guilt formed in my belly, I tried to focus on the check up questions Manny was asking me.] Uh, yeah, whatever you gave me is holding up. My leg feels like a ton of bricks, but besides that just twinges of pain. [I tried for a gentle smile that barely curled my lips as I addressed the Chosen, keeping my eyes downcast out of respect for her position.] Thank you for your service. I am not worthy of the gift of your life blood. [She nodded in acknowledgment and offered her wrist. On any other occasion, I'd be jazzed to be feeding from such a lovely being and the buzz her blood could give, but tonight as my fangs sank deep, my eyes were locked on the darkness of the hall outside of the small window in the door of my hospital room, yearning for a glimpse of Paradise.]

#SASBDB

[hopeishappinessff]

Holding Onto Hope: Chapter 40

Chris

I walked the perimeter of the yard today, rather than sitting up under the tree like I’d been doing since they released me to the outdoors during recreation. The need to make my life as normal as possible these days was greater than ever and in order to maintain the newfound normalcy, I decided it would be best to rotate my daily activities so I didn’t become complacent like majority of the crazies in this place. Every day on my way outside for recreation was like déjà vu… they all sat in the same places, in that same room, doing the same shit. Sitting on the old tarnished couch in front of the dated television screen nibbling on strands of hair, bundled in the middle of the floor Indian style rocking back and forth while humming quietly, or sitting off in the corner having a full blown conversation with nothing but a blank wall as if it were a group of people… that’s all they ever did and it’s what I refused to do. It was bad enough that I was in here, but I refused to be mixed into the stereotype of an insane person, so I made sure to change up my habits to keep myself going… and sane.

I hadn’t seen Dominica since the day I almost blacked out on her under the tree and truth be told… that was one huge reason I’d been recently steering clear of that very spot. I felt the strongest pang of guilt every time I laid eyes on it so I made it a point to stay as far away from it as I could. With my hands wedged down into the pockets of my sweats, I kept my gaze to the lush green grass beneath my slides and nibbled relentlessly into the corner of my bottom lip. Somehow I managed to allow myself to get lost in the thought of what life would be like when I left this place… if I left this place. One thing I would not allow myself to do was dwell on the thought of getting released early. After the horrific turn of events at the preliminary meeting Dr. Stevenson had set up with the committee, I was one hundred percent positive those people would not okay me to leave and I wouldn’t dare let myself cling to even the slightest possibility because I knew all I’d do was get my hopes up only for that ruthlessly evil bitch and her posse to crush the shit out of them. The thought alone was just a black out waiting to happen, so I lightly shook my head as if it would force the thought away and continued my leisurely stroll.

“You’ve been avoiding me haven’t you big bird?” Quickly lifting my head and turning to the left, I spotted a familiar short statured girl ambling my way with her hands behind her back and her head tilted slightly as she peered up at me. She wore a mischievous smirk that was contagious enough to have me smiling back and slowing in my tracks to give her time to catch up.

“Hi Dom… how are you?”

“Don’t ignore my question monsieur, where have you been?” She probed as she quickly fell into stride beside me and playfully bumped her right shoulder into my arm.

With a soft chuckle I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders “I’ve been here.”

She glanced up at me as I pointed at my head and lifted a brow questioningly “You’ve been in your head?”

“Yeah… trying to get my mind together.”

“What’s wrong with your mind that’s got you feeling like you need to get it together?” She asked curiously.

“Dominica,” Without thinking I slowed down in my wide strides and eventually stopped altogether and looked over at her, “The last time we were together, out here at the tree…”

“You almost had a black out…” Her ability to complete that sentence caught me completely off guard and I frowned at her while she simply stood there smirking back at me.

“You’re a lot like my dad you know, you’re just a bit more handsome… and a lot nicer.”

My brows naturally twisted with confusion and after standing there smirking up at me for a bit longer, she eventually shook her head and sighed “I know that you’re bipolar… amongst other things. I kinda assumed it when I first met you, but that day out here at the tree confirmed it. The characteristics are much too similar to ignore.”

“You think I’m crazy now, don’t you?” I mumbled with my head hung shamefully low.

Taking one step closer to me, she latched a tiny hand onto my left shoulder and smiled “Did you not hear the part about you being a lot like my dad, only a lot nicer? You’re like a breath of fresh air compared to that man.”

Lifting my brows with surprise and raising my gaze to meet hers, I cracked a sheepish grin and blew out a light gust of relief “Thanks Dom.”

Like the bold little character that she was, Dominica hooked an arm around mine and tugged me forward to continue our walk around the perimeter “You do know that you’re still in a mental institute, right? It may be pretty invalid and pointless to ask anyone in this place if they think you’re crazy.”

“Hey man, I’ve barely comes to terms with my conditions. I kinda think I’m crazy, so I figured anyone who knew all that I got going on would think the same.”

“You’re such a hoot.” She giggled.

“But I recently found out some interesting news though.”

“Interesting like good… or bad?” She quizzed. In all honesty, her question was one I’d been asking myself lately… was the news of Dr. Yates wanting to have me released early good or bad? Was the thought of going back into reality to face the life that’d landed me right where I stood today… good or bad?

With a sigh, I shrugged lightly and stared straight ahead through squinted eyes “I’m not sure, honestly. My therapist has started the process of an early release. She wants me to go home to my mom to finish out the remainder of my eight-month program.”

I stopped walking abruptly then, because Dom was no longer moving beside me yet her arm was still linked to mine “You can’t decipher whether or not that’s a good or bad thing?”

“Dom…” I sighed.

“Your therapist is trying to grant you an early release from this hell hole… and you somehow can’t figure out if that’s good or not? Hmph, maybe you are crazy man!” She huffed unbelievably. For all of two seconds I frowned at her outburst, but when I caught her smirking up at me as she shook her head, I couldn’t contain my sudden urge to return the friendly gesture.

“I don’t know… I just… I feel like a menace out there in the real world and I’m sort of afraid to be unleashed.” I snorted with a sense of humor, but… I knew that humor never quite reached my eyes. I could tell that just by the way she continued to stare up at me, her playful smirk slowly drifting into an expression masked in sorrow.

“You’re not an animal Chris… no one is unleashing you. If this is something that your therapist has recommended for you, because she has all the confidence in the world that you’ll be just fine out there… you’re not being unleashed. You’re earning your right to walk out of here as a free man because you deserve it.” There was the most genuine glint in her eyes that made me think for just a moment, that maybe… me leaving this institute wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe, just maybe… it would actually be exactly what I needed.

 --

 I wore a suit today, only because my mom made me. I didn’t really care much for Dr. Stevenson’s opinion and I especially didn’t care for her unnecessary persistence in the topic of my wardrobe on this particular day. For completely technical purposes, I could have shown up naked as the day I was born just to piss her off because I hated the thought of her telling me what to do… even if it was just a suggestion.

But, I wore a suit today… because today was judgement day. Today was the day that I would sit in front of that panel of committee members and quietly learn of my fate. And today was the day that evil bitch Clara would make it her life goal to fuck it all up for me and make it a point to lock me away for years, if she could. I don’t know that I’d ever been so nervous in my life. My body naturally woke me up at about four a.m., as if I’d managed to get much sleep to begin with, and when breakfast rolled around the nurses had to force me to down at least a piece of toast so that I could take my morning pill without throwing up. I think I may have even successfully managed to give myself arthritis because I cracked my knuckles literally every few seconds… I was that nervous.

The thing was, I didn’t want to be in this institute any longer. I had already made a deal with myself that if they didn’t allow me to go home now, I would simply become a total mute and never leave the confines of my room again. I tried to tell myself not to get my hopes up about an early release and to actually just forget about the hearing altogether, but the closer the day got the more I actually ended up obsessing over the entire situation. I wanted to go home, no… I needed to go home. I could not handle another day in this crazy people prison and the moment I woke up this morning, I prayed like I’d never prayed before. I mean I literally rolled out of bed and landed on my knees then remained in that position until the morning nurse came around to gather me for breakfast. And even as I strolled quietly alongside her, my prayer never stopped.

With a nervous stare that darted all around the cold and unforgiving room, I sat slouched in my seat and mentally battled those internal butterflies that fluttered so wildly in my gut I was almost positive I would throw up at any given time. In the same order as before, my mom sat to my left and Dr. Stevenson sat stiffly to my right. Eze was somewhere on the premises, but as politely as I could I requested to my mother to keep him the fuck away from me. After their little revelation about him funding this entire thing for me, I was actually fully prepared to write them both off but somehow I managed to set that petty thought aside because even his bitch ass couldn’t cause me to be upset on this day.

So there we all sat, waiting for the committee members to take their place at the long table across from us. They filed in slowly and chatted amongst themselves on their way to their seats as if it was just a completely normal occurrence to sit down for a few seconds to determine the fate of someone’s life then go on about their business. I mean, I’m sure it was totally normal for them to do just that… I was sure they probably ruined lives on a daily basis, but I was not prepared for them to sit down and ruin mine.

Dr. Stevenson may or may not have been as nervous as I was… I honestly couldn’t tell from the stiff way that she sat in her chair beside me, because she seemed to be uptight and stiff like that all the time. She kept her stare trained straight ahead and if I wasn’t mistaken, I could even feel her tense up for a split second. Glancing briefly in the direction her eyes were, I quickly refrained from frowning at the exact thing that had her tensing… my favorite committee member of them all had just taken her seat. Unlike the preliminary hearing, today she actually smiled and… was she even laughing? She was… she was laughing at something that the man by the name of Roger had just mumbled quietly amongst them. In a way, seeing a smile on her evil face sort of creeped me out… but I wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t give me just a flicker of hope for the outcome of this day.

“Good Morning everyone.” Lizette, the Hispanic lady who had taken her place to Clara’s right, stood and gave a polite greeting, “Today we are gathered to offer a final verdict in the case of Mr. Christopher Brown. Today, Mr. Brown, will determine whether your time here at the Institute is complete.”

First, I was surprised that she stood up to give the opening remarks and second… I was more thankful than ever that she did. I was actually even hoping that this somehow meant that Clara wouldn’t be speaking at all today and that thought alone gave me just a sprinkle of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a light at the end of this long dark tunnel.

“We will not make this some unnecessarily long drawn out process. We have done quite a bit of deliberating since the preliminary hearing in order to come to a united decision. I’d like to begin by briefly discussing my opinion regarding this case,” Pausing for a moment, Lizette inhaled a small deep breath then smiled warmly at me and my mom, “Joyce, as I mentioned previously, I am a mother and a grandmother. My children and grandbabies mean the absolute world to me and without them I truly believe that I serve no purpose in this life. My children… I am absolutely confident that I raised them to the best of my abilities. I believe that I did everything in my power to ensure the best possible future for all three of them and though there have been several bumps in the road along the way, there is not a single soul on this planet who could tell me that I am not the best mother to them. I, like you, am a single mother… and I have been since the day my last child was born. See, you and I Joyce… we are heroines. We are the true testament that women are a rare breed and some of the strongest and wisest creatures on earth.”

“You are a wonderful mother Ms. Joyce Hawkins and you have raised a wonderful son. The young man that I see sitting beside you here today is a product of you, which makes him one of your greatest creations. You carried him for nine months, you bore him, you raised him and your daughter single-handedly and you did a magnificent job. You have every right to be proud of him. Not all of the decisions that he will make in this life will be the best. He will hiccup constantly along the way, but by human nature he will learn from his mistakes and he will pick himself up and continue on. He may not be perfect to every single person that he crosses paths with in his life and he may not be perfect to each of us committee members standing before you today, but if your boy is perfect to you… then who am I to stand here and tell you otherwise?”

With one last warm smile that swept once again from me to my mom, Lizette stepped back and took her seat. Almost halfway into her speech I could hear sniffling at my side, but in order for me to remain sane throughout the duration of this hearing there was no way I could turn to my mother and watch her cry. I did, however, reach over and pluck her right hand from her lap and grip onto it, which unmistakably left her whimpering softly.

Focusing my attention back on the panel straight ahead, I watched as Roger stood from his seat and cleared his throat “Dr. Stevenson, when you initially requested the early release of Mr. Brown and we began the process of analyzing his file and studying him as a whole here in the Institute, I truthfully didn’t have much confidence in your decision. In the initial stages, I was completely baffled as to why you so confidently believed that this young man would be suitable to be released back into society. He seemed destructive, he seemed angry, he seemed completely detached from the world and everyone in it.”

I turned my head as this man spoke, because there was no way I could have been prepared for him to stand there and talk about how stupid he thought Dr. Stevenson was for suggesting that little ole crazy me be released early. But, was he right though? Yes… I believe he was. I was crazy… I am crazy, and I couldn’t possibly deserve to leave this joint early let alone at all…

“But, the more we studied his case file… the more we studied him, the more I began to understand that… this may not necessarily be a place for him. I’ll be frank here, Chris is a great kid and he has a big bright future ahead of himself. From graduating high school with full scholarship opportunities from Universities across the country, to beginning a successful life at the University of Georgia and focusing pretty fruitfully on his studies and his career as a basketball player… there’s nothing bad about that, is there? As Lizette said, he may not be perfect to me or anyone in this room, but he was just perfect enough to someone out there who believed in him enough to give him a chance to make something of himself… and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. You’ve obviously battled your illnesses for a major portion of your life young man, but I commend you for not allowing them to stop you from stepping out into this rather grim world to become someone. And I wish you well on all of your future endeavors… I’m a huge fan of UGA and I can’t wait to see you back on that court next season son.”

After his speech took a surprising turn for the better, I looked back up at Roger just as he went to take his seat and I didn’t miss the quick wink and smirk he sent my way. I wasn’t sure what was happening in this room today, but whatever it was it left my heart fluttering and my hands sweating with anxiety. However that didn’t stop my mom from holding onto my hand and actually squeezing the life out of it, because clearly her nerves were just as frazzled as mine.

Next, the older white lady stood with her hands crossed regally in front of her and a tight-lipped smile “Well, it seems as though my fellow committee members here have already discussed a good amount of what I had in mind to point out today, which isn’t a bad thing at all. If you haven’t figured it out by now Christopher, we see your potential. You are not a menace to society and we recognize that whole heartedly. If you were a menace, believe me there is a place out there for you… and that’s prison. During your time here at the Institute, we’ve monitored you as we do every single patient and if we haven’t concluded anything else... it’s that you are indeed a very intelligent and kind young man. You just happen to possess an entity that is out of your control and that is in no way your fault. With continued support from your therapist Dr. Debra Yates, I am one hundred percent confident that you will do just fine out there. And more than anything I am confident, as your mother expressed in our last hearing, that you will be a wonderful father to your children. As a matter of fact, I am certain that if nothing else those babies will give you something to press on for. The way I see it, they need you just as much as you need them.”

Smiling a bit brighter after delivering her speech, she sat down and it seemed the moment that she did, a layer of tension washed over the entire span of the room within an instant. I was almost certain that everyone in the room had to be thinking the same exact thing… it was now evil bitch Clara’s turn to speak. Though I was thrilled and utterly surprised to hear what they all had to say, I had to admit that I was more concerned by what this woman had to say… because I’m sure she was fully prepared to stand up and deliver the most negative speech she could.

“Christopher… Ms. Joyce… before I stand up here and deliver any sort of speech, I must first apologize for my conduct in the preliminary hearing…”

Those words, everything she’d just said, stunned me. I’m sure the shock was written all over my face as she smirked down at me and glanced over at my mom.

“The other members here, they often suggest that I consider a different and perhaps less invasive and aggressive method, but… I believe whole heartedly that it wouldn’t be as effective any other way. I think that I can honestly speak for everyone when I say, Christopher… you do not belong here in this facility. You are not an active murderer, you’re not a cold and heartless serial killer, you’re not some unstable terrorist who desires nothing more than to kill for sport. You are simply a young man with an optimistic future.”

“What happened in this very room before, truthfully was merely a test. You have been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and dissociative personality disorder, which if simultaneously triggered just the right way can be quite deadly. The idea was to spark anger and rage within you that day and it was very critical for you to react exactly the way that you did. I know that it was difficult for you… the goal was to make it as volatile as possible in order to push you to your absolute limit. Through the entire charade I paid very close attention to the way in which you closed yourself off from the situation and maintained your focus through it all. I applaud you for that Christopher and you must know that from here on out, it is imperative that if ever you find yourself in any type of overheated situation, any type at all… you always maintain your focus to the best of your abilities to avoid losing yourself. I trust that you will be able to do just that out there on your own… I trust that you have learned the proper methods to calm yourself when the time calls… and I trust that you will be an incredible father to your two little ones. As you heard here before, you are not to blame for the cards that life has dealt you. You should not be punished and feel banished from the real world because this is a part of who you are.

With shock worn boldly on my face, my eyes trained and unblinking on this woman who must have been bipolar herself, I squeezed my mother’s hand perhaps harder than she’d been squeezing mine throughout the duration of this life changing speech… and held my breath “And with that being said, Mr. Brown… on behalf of my fellow board members and the Northern Virginia Mental Health Institute, I wish you well in your future endeavors and I hope to never see you again. Your contracted program here at the institute has hereby been terminated. Good luck to you and your family… and Godspeed.”

[smut-camren]

It's A Family Affair (Chapter 2)

“You know, baby girl, if you wanted my cock… you should’ve just asked,” Lauren was gambling now, but her first wet dream had been about Camila, and the first time she hid under the covers to stroke herself to a shuddering orgasm, it was to thoughts of her innocent little sister – the girl had been 11 at the time, Lauren herself barely 12 and starting to notice things like her sister’s budding breasts and pert ass. If she had a chance now to make all those years of fantasy into reality, she was going to grab on with both hands and never let go.

“What?” Camila looked up at her in sudden shock.

“Come back to bed, little sister, and let’s do it right.”

In a trance, not entirely certain that she wasn’t dreaming now, Camila dropped the robe from her body and made her way back into the raven haired girl’s bed. Lauren gently laid her down and hovered above her, stripping her own shirt off and kicking her boxers down to the end of the bed.

“You know you’ve been a really bad girl, Camila,” Lauren whispered, hands trailing feather-light caresses across the brunette’s torso. “Sneaking into your sister’s bedroom at night to molest her while she’s sleeping…”

Camila felt her insides clench, a gush of wetness adding to the come coating the inside of her thighs. She whimpered quietly, eyes dropping closed involuntarily as Lauren’s raspy voice washed over her.

“You stole countless orgasms, denied me the pleasure of taking your virginity… what would papa say if he knew what a naughty little girl you’ve been?”

“Lauren…” Camila shifted her thighs together, trying to relieve some of the building pressure.

“I bet daddy would punish you,” the athlete’s voice dropped half an octave. “Do you remember in fifth grade, when you charged $6500 to his credit card in that bid war for Barbra Memorabilia? He spanked your little bottom so hard, you had to stand at supper that night… I think it’s the only time I’ve really seen him lose his temper. Imagine what he’d have to say now.”

Camila bit down on a moan, her hips jerking upwards when Lauren’s long fingers swept across her core.

“It’s only fitting that the punishment suit the crime, don’t you think, baby girl?”

“Yes – yes, big sister, y-you should punish me.”

“Mmm, I will, little sister, I will,” Lauren sucked hard on the side of her sister’s breast, leaving a deep strawberry mark. “I’m going to fuck you until you can���t even walk, what do you think about that?”

“Oh my god, Lauren, please,” the diva was practically whining now, hips rolling, thighs shifting, desperately seeking some friction against her throbbing clit.

“That’ll put a stop to you being such a bad girl, huh? You won’t be able to sneak in here if your big sister fucks you into your own mattress every night, will you?” the raven haired girl couldn’t hold her own hips still by now, rutting her hard cock against her little sister, smearing pre-come into her tan thigh. “Tell me you want it; tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“O-oh, Lauren, big sister, please… I want your cock in me… please, just… fuck me,” Camila’s chest was heaving, pupils completely blown; she didn’t think she’d ever been so aroused.

Lauren groaned and took one of Camila’s slender ankles in each hand. Taking advantage of the younger girl’s flexibility, she pushed the girl’s legs apart and back until her ankles rested near her ears. The brunette’s pelvis was angled upwards, presenting her soaked pussy, spread wide and on display for her sister’s hungry gaze. Lauren slid her length through wet folds and then positioned her bulbous cockhead at the entrance of her little sister’s tight channel.

“Remember – keep quiet and take your punishment like a good little girl,” Lauren chastised. “You don’t want daddy or papa to find out how naughty you are.”

“Yes, big sister, I’ll be quiet, I promise… just, please… I need you.”

Ever so slowly, Lauren pushed her hips forward, impaling her dick in her baby sister’s wanton cunt. Camila bit into her knuckle hard enough to draw blood, loving the feeling of the thick shaft splitting her in two. This was the part she loved most, the first entry when her sister’s fat cock filled her up, stretching her out so perfectly. Even though she’d just fucked herself to orgasm a few minutes earlier, her pussy muscles had tightened up after release and it felt like the first time all over again.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” Lauren panted, balls coming to rest on her sister’s small ass. “I never would’ve guessed what a slut you are.”

“Only… only for you,” Camila was desperate, trying to rock up against her sister, but the position didn’t allow her to move much at all. “Please…”

“Please what?” Lauren rotated her hips, grinding against the girl’s hot core.

“That,” Camila groaned. “Anything, just… move, please.”

Lauren’s tightly-held control slipped and she began thrusting carefully into her little sister. It was her first conscious anything – taking Camila’s virginity wasn’t the only thing she’d missed – and she wasn’t quite used to how it felt to move inside another person. Moving slowly, Lauren closed her eyes and just… felt. The hot, slick walls caressed her cock with a smooth, firm grip as she pushed in and out of her sister. She could feel everything: every fold and ridge of the grasping channel, the little rougher patch that made Camila whimper each time her cockhead pressed against it, the slick wetness of their combined come. Angling her hips just so, she started hitting that rough, spongy patch with each inward thrust, feeling her sister’s walls begin to flutter and contract around her.

“Mm, yes, just like that… oh, big sister… this is so much, mm, so much better,” Camila’s eyes rolled back into her head and she reached between her legs to press on her engorged clit.

“Mmn, fuck, you little whore… you’re gonna come on my cock again already?” Lauren increased the pace of her thrusts, balls slapping against the taut little bottom, long shaft bottoming out on each surge forward. Camila bit down on her lip to keep from crying out loud, fingers working frantically between her thighs, walls beginning to collapse around the thick length.

Lauren felt the beginning of the contractions and pressed in deep, rocking slowly against her sister’s core to feel each spasm and ripple of the girl’s orgasm. Before the fluttering channel completely stilled, Lauren pulled out and repositioned, giving the younger girl no time to catch her breath. Rolling Camila onto her side, Lauren knelt, straddling one leg and sheathing her cock in her sister’s pussy while clasping the other leg to her chest. Once again grateful for the girl’s flexibility borne from years of dancing, Lauren began to pound into her, one hand dropping to massage a swollen, red clit. Lauren knew she wouldn’t be able to come again yet, but she loved the feeling of her baby sister’s juicy cunt wrapped around her cock, watching the girl writhe in pleasure – she’d meant it when she said she’d fuck the girl until she couldn’t walk.

Once again pinned under her gorgeous sister, Camila pulled a pillow against her face to muffle the moans she couldn’t quite suppress. Lauren’s cock pistoned in and out of her squelching cunt, dextrous fingers stroking her aching clit. She’d come twice already, but could already feel a third orgasm building under her sister’s ministrations. The green eyes’s dick was getting so deep inside; Camila’s core ached dully each time the athlete pounded against her cervix. The contrast of the pain almost seemed to heighten her pleasure, setting every nerve ending aflame. With a few more hard thrusts and a pinch of her clit, Camila fell apart again, body convulsing with the force of her orgasm, teeth ripping a hole in her sister’s pillow case as she bit down to stifle her screams. Lauren just kept pounding into her baby sister’s abused pussy, wanting nothing more than to come again now.

“Wait, please… I can’t – I can’t take any more,” Camila plead, her pussy stretched and sore from the rough pounding.

“You aren’t getting off that lightly,” Lauren’s eyes blazed down at her sister. “I don’t think the terms of your punishment have been satisfied –,” she ground her hips into the girl’s core, sending little shockwaves of pleasure through Camila, despite the dull ache “– but there’s more than one way to do it.” Lauren rubbed her palm across one smooth, tan ass cheek.

“L-Lauren, I’ve never – I’ve never done it that way.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything… and I think you owe me a first, baby girl,” Lauren rasped lowly. Pulling the younger girl off the bed, Lauren bent her over the mattress, cock twitching when her gaze zeroed in on the little, puckered slit. She shoved two fingers into her sister’s raw cunt, collecting wetness to smear around the tight hole, drawing a gasp of surprise from the brunette.

“Oh! Th-that…,” Camila pushed back against the probing finger, surprised by the pleasurable sensations radiating from her virgin anus. “That feels… really good.”

“Yeah? You like the idea of me sticking my dick in your ass?” Lauren wiggled her fingers into the clenching hole, scissoring and thrusting roughly. Her cock was steadily leaking pre-come and she was so ready to come again she wasn’t sure if she’d even manage to get all the way inside, but she was sure going to try.

“Mm, yes,” Camila closed her eyes in bliss, rocking back onto the slender fingers stretching her. “God, do it… please, fuck my ass, big sister.”

It was Lauren’s turn to whimper as she pulled her fingers out and positioned her still-wet cock at her baby sister’s gaping anus. She nudged her spongy head against the tight ring of muscle, hissing her pleasure at the feeling of the snug grip pulling her deeper into the enticing heat. Clutching her sister’s hips, she pushed forward steadily until she was buried completely in the grasping cavity. Lauren held still for a long moment, savouring the clenching of the younger girl’s body around her throbbing length.

“F-fuck, I’m not… I’m not gonna last… holy shit, baby girl, you, mm, you feel so good,” Lauren moaned, slowly pulling out to the tip, eyes riveted to the sight of her thick cock splitting her baby sister’s ass.

“Come in me, big sister… I want to feel your come filling me.” Camila didn’t think she’d be able to come like this, but, well, Lauren was right – she’d stolen countless orgasms, and she figured she owed her sister a few. Besides, this really did feel good, being filled up like this; it wasn’t as good as having her sister’s dick filling her pussy, but feeling her sister move against her like this was really… hot. “Mmm, so good.”  Camila began pushing back each time Lauren thrust in so carefully, urging the athlete to fuck her deeper and harder.

“Ungh, look at you – such a, fuck, such a slut for my cock… mm, yes, fuck your little ass on my dick.”

Camila pushed back harder, using her arms to brace herself on the bed, the light sound of their bodies slapping together filling the room. Lauren kneaded her buttocks, one perfect globe in each hand, pushing and pulling the firm muscles. The movement of her hips grew jerky as her pleasure mounted, balls tightening along with a coiling heat in her abdomen.

“Oh yeah, fuck… I’m gonna… fuck, I’m, nngh, yes!” Lauren’s hips snapped forward, convulsing wildly against her little sister’s ass. Her cock spasmed, shooting ropes of come deep into her sister’s bowels with every twitch, pure ecstasy flooding her body.

“Mm, yeah, big sister, fill me up,” Camila moaned, pinned beneath the athlete, feeling liquid heat paint her insides. Lauren’s thrusts gradually slowed and she collapsed against her sister, the pair lying tangled together while their breathing returned to normal. The sweat dried on their bodies, and Camila found herself drifting into sleep, content to spend the night close to her sister, even if she was slightly uncomfortable hanging half off the bed.

Lauren really didn’t want to move, but she also really didn’t want their dads to find them like this in the morning – her on top of her little sister, cock still gripped in the tight ring of her anus, dried come smeared on the insides of the younger girl’s thighs. Forcing herself to pull away from the comfort of her sister’s body, she slid her soft penis out of the girl’s ass and pulled herself to her feet.

“Come on, Camz, you have to get back to your room,” Lauren shook the girl gently.

“I want to stay with you,” Camila whispered, almost inaudible.

“I know, baby girl, but you don’t want our dads to find out about this, do you?”

“No, you’re right,” Camila roused herself, standing on shaky legs to pull her discarded robe back around her body, wincing slightly as she moved; her muscles were sore and her pussy felt raw and her ass was uncomfortably stretched now that the endorphins were fading. Her big sister had certainly made good on her promise. “Lauren, I –,” she broke off, looking helplessly at her sister, uncertain what would come next.

“You’re going to go to bed now, and when you wake up in the morning sore and sticky, you’ll remember what happens to naughty, little whores who misbehave,” Lauren rasped in Camila’s ear, pushing her toward the door with a light swat to her tender ass. She was too tired to think through all this right now, and shock at both her and her sister’s actions was beginning to set in – she really needed to get the girl out of her room so she could get some sleep and try to figure things out in the morning. She was almost glad it was a weekday; she’d be at practise early and in classes all day, so she wouldn’t have to deal with any of this until after school.

As Camila curled up in her bed that night, she wondered if it hadn’t really all been a dream – and if it wasn’t, what on earth was it all going to mean in the light of day?

[ecotone99]

[HM] Liquorice and Mashed Tattie

(Mashed Tattie means mashed potato for anyone who doesn't know)

Night looms. Darkness reaching down, stretching out and filling up every street and crevice along the city’s surface. A powerful stench of coal and mackerel filters through the air creating a musty cloud overhead. The city, named ‘Craigs Hull’, is twinned with the hull of an algae covered shipwreck from the 19th Century. The populace, with hints of marine life themselves, look like close descendants from homo erectus but with a slight mix of fish, squid and invertebrate. Craigs Hull as a city, is largely known as a place to avoid. A colourless town, largely grey with flecks of green, red and brown along most of the city’s structures and buildings. The rain is consistent and the sky, dull at best.

The streets sit eerily quiet for 9pm, the sound of a distant siren is heard from a faraway point in the city. Suddenly, another siren begins to blare elsewhere. Oh jesus. A third siren begins to wail. Things are everchanging in the city, like an unpredictable weather cycle. On the left side of the road, from one of Craigs Hull’s local taverns named ‘The Tower’, spills a group of rambunctious males throwing a frenzy of fists and wayward kicks. Limbs fly everywhere. The tavern itself, relatively small, but the men continue to flock out like cockroaches in a cardboard box. Not before long, bottles begin to fly and shatter on faces and the occasional shoulder for those with a wayward aim. A whisky bottle flies from out of the taverns’ window. Fucking shame because I like the odd whisky these days, just fyi. It hurtles towards a male cranium… Direct hit. B2, B3, B4 and B5 all in the one go. The man sank towards the floor, sending him to Davey Jones’ Locker with the rest of the boozy wrecks that had been downed.

From the starboard side of the road, a local passer-by spots the commotion dripping from the tavern as she walks with her dog. From her pocket she pulls out a flare gun and fires a flare into the night sky, hoping that help would arrive in some way, shape or form. She then lifts a rubber dog toy in her hand and proceeds to blow into it. It inflates into a small dinghy. She places her dog inside and begins to paddle herself to safety. Unfortunately, the nature of the concrete pavement scrapes at the bottom of her dinghy ripping a hole in the underside. Slowly, it begins to deflate. She looks at her dog. It looks to be a Bichon Frise but could be part Beagle. It stares back at her, thinking she’s gone insane. The woman panics, searching for a life jacket but to no avail. She looks over the side of the dinghy. Slowly seeing herself descend to the floor as the burst rubber screeches below her. She looks to the sky, throws her hands in the air and screams uncontrollably. Tears stream down her face. The dog assesses the situation, jumps out of the dinghy, pees on it and wanders off into the night. It was, in simple terms, done with her shit.

As the woman screamed and her dinghy deflated, the fight over the road ensued. Nobody batted an eyelid; they only batted each other’s heads. The street was littered with bodies, blood and blobfish. Suddenly, from The Tower’s roof appeared a dark shadowy figure, holding a long pole like object. They shouted. It was the owner of the tavern, Bruno Barracuda, they could tell by his husky voice and gold tooth glistening in the darkness. The fighting stopped. The brawlers looked up at him, knowing he was a crazed lunatic. He slowly pulled back the pole like object before sharply bringing it down pointing towards the men below. One of the brawlers suddenly jerked his head back as though he’d been hit by something. “We’ve got a big’un!” cried Bruno with suppressed glee. Bruno began to rotate his hand in a quick motion and pull back on the pole like object, which began to bend quite drastically. The lip of the brawler below began to lift, revealing a fishhook in his mouth. Bruno was out fishin’! He began reeling the brawler in, lifting him off the ground. Bruno barked out “Margaret, get the net. Margaret! Don’t let me down here hen, I’ll tell ye!” Margaret arrived on the scene, a frail figure, she put the net under the brawler who dangled high in the air, scooped him up and placed him down onto the tavern roof. He wriggled in a struggle before Bruno batted him over the back of the head, hogtied him and lifted him onto his back. They then disappeared from the roof in a flash.

Everything lay calm for a hot moment, all the men stood staring at one another confused. Nobody knew what the fighting was about, but that was a common theme in Craigs Hull.

After a few moments. A reveller appeared at the shattered window, drunk as a skunk and armed with a harpoon and a pint glass. “OI, what’s all the racket!” He growled. He cocked his arm with the harpoon in it. Oh god, no! He aimed at one of the many men stood staring at him, inviting him to throw it. He took one last glance, stumbled a bit, then sent his pint glass flying through the air and shattering on one of the men’s faces. He then kissed his harpoon and headed back into The Tower for another pint. His actions, however, had a chain reaction on the men. The violence erupted again as more of them continued to pour out of the tavern and into a fury of fists.

The city was crying out for the local authorities but still they hadn’t shown up to diffuse the situation.

Blood was filling the street, nearly submerging that poor ladies’ sunken dinghy. Surprisingly though, the lady wasn’t there anymore. She was atop a litter bin with a tea towel placed over her shoulder for warmth. One of the men was about to deliver a killer blow to another. His fist high in the air ready to strike. He ignited the power from his bumcheeks, right up through his back, into his arm and through to his fist. He pushed down towards the other man and…

Nothing.

His fist remained firmly in the same position, with a black lacey lasso constricted around it. He tried to move his arm, but he couldn’t. Suddenly, his whole torso was wrapped in the black lace and he was dragged to the floor. Fully subdued. He tried to bite at it, but it was cold and tough. It tasted… It tasted like… liquorice? What was this? The black lace suddenly started to circle all of the brawlers outside the tavern, capturing them all in its super strong hold and squishing them together in a tight trap. They couldn’t move their bodies, resorting them to headbutting each other as they struggled in continuing to fight one another. At that moment, a small fluffy fleck drifted down from over head and into the middle of the circle.

Was it snow?

It was a mild evening, perhaps too warm for snow. Another fleck drifted down, this time more of a gloopy texture than fluffy. It landed on one of the men’s shoulders and dripped down his shirt. He looked up, to see a huge fluffy mass falling from the sky and hurtling towards the encased circle. He screamed, alerting the rest of the men who all joined him as they became aware of the mass which was growing bigger and bigger and

SPLAT.

A huge thick creamy substance covered the men and moulded perfectly around them, stopping their every move. They were now completely stuck. Some of the men had a mouthful. Milky, buttery, slight hints of pepper cupped with a wonderful texture. Their palates felt so stimulated that they passed out and collapsed into the creamy mass.

A silence befell the street. The fighting had stopped. All the men encased like sausages in a creamy mould. From the sky dropped a man in an earthy suit, a very starchy head and small amounts of hair sprouting out of the top of it. He looked around the street and stared at all the passed-out brawlers with a proud grin. “Look at all these lumps in my mash” he chuckled to himself. He looked over to the side, emerging from the darkness came a woman, dressed in a black lacy suit, with pink and blue jellies dotted around her body and a crudely drawn ‘L’ or her forehead. They smiled at one another and nodded. It was as though they were working in tandem.

The woman walked closer to the scene. A man groaned on the ground near her, as a bottle of vodka fell from his hand. He stared up at her, as though to mutter his last words before passing out. “It’s – It’s… the liquor” he mouthed through half shut eyes. She smiled down at him. “No. It’s Liquorice!” She laughed, not realising that he was actually talking about his vodka bottle. She joined her accomplice in the middle of the crime scene. They both smiled and stepped onto a small creamy cloud which the man had blown out of his starchy mouth. They rose and began to float away from the scene.

“WAAAAAAAAAAIT!”

They looked down. It was the lady still perched on top of the bin with the tea towel.

“Who are you?!?” she screamed in awe of them.

They both looked at each other, smiled and looked back down at the woman.

“Liquorice” said the woman, before the man replied, “Mashed Tattie”. They continued to rise high and into the sky disappearing into the night.

When the woman got home that night after her ordeal, she opened up her house to find a lifetime supply of liquorice and mashed potato stacked up inside her bathroom.

“Bastard! I’m bursting on a piss” she raged.

THE END.

Sorry about the wait for Mashed Tattie and Liquorice there, it was like Godzilla or something where you only see them close to the end. Limited screen time. Got caught up in nautical references.

I have more short stories and daft chat on my blog sucklypoo.com if anyone would like to check that out.

Thanks for reading!

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