#his little gay neck handkerchief thing

[buggsxp]

double life scar my little pookie

#gtws fanart #life series #trafficblr #mcyt fanart #goodtimeswithscar #his little gay neck handkerchief thing #double life fanart #dl scar #:)c

[magpiepills]

Divining Rod

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Silva x wife reader, Silva x Jake

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: Silva returns after a trip to town to see an old friend.

Warnings: smut! PIV, PIA, hurt, very little comfort, thigh riding briefly, infidelity, m/m, love triangle, time period appropriate inappropriate use of alternative lubricants, unsafe sex, unrequited feelings, no happy ending.

A word from the author: this is a repost! This is my contribution to filling in the blanks of Silva’s story as presented in the film. We know he has a son, and has likely impregnated a woman the old fashioned way. We know he had a sexual relationship with Jake. As a matter of safety and social expectations in 1910, we know it’s unlikely that Jake or Silva could have been out and living openly as gay or bi men. I wanted to explore the relationship Silva may have had with the mother of his son without making it cute or sweet or romantic. I love westerns, and SWOL is a good western.

Do not come in here with any bi erasure. This blog is queer and we don’t tolerate that.

Four days have passed since Silva left. He rode into town, promising to come back with flour, lard, rice, beans, gun powder, and fabric for a new dress. He kissed you goodbye, and rode away into the purple morning, hips swaying gently atop his chestnut horse.

He looked so handsome in his green coat, you wished he’d have taken you once more before he left. Laid you across your wide feather bed, naked for him, cunt dripping arousal onto your quilt. You wanted to feel full the way only he could make you, crying out his name, breathless under the weight of his broad body. As you stood at the kitchen window, looking out over the silent ranch, you thought of him and how he alone had known you this way, only he could give you what you needed. That evening after you’d finished the chores on your own you squeezed your thighs tight, held one of his handkerchiefs to your nose and longed for him until you fell asleep alone once more.

Silva was gone for five days. He returned in silence, threw a bag of rice into the table, and went to tend to his horse. You wanted to run to him and bury your face in his chest, let him bunch your skirt around your waist, and fuck you in the soft hay in the loft the way he did in the halcyon days of your youth. The days when he brought you to your climax in ways you’d never imagined on your own, taking his time with his fingers and his tongue, then his cock, so thick and heavy, tan as the back of his hand and flushed with lust. He was a divining rod for your desire. “Yes” he would groan, “take it just like that. Come on. That’s it.” He would put all his weight into your hips, driving his cock deep with his eyes shut tight. The stretch made you feel warm all over, and your release was the only relief. He could be rough, taking what he needed, pushing and pulling your body into his until he moaned and nipped at your neck, spilling his seed on the rough boards of the barn floor. After so long apart, you needed him in that primal way.

You knew you couldn’t ask him, though. You couldn’t run and jump into his arms. When he returned from those trips to town he was sullen and quiet. You didn’t know why. You didn’t know he had gone to the sheriff, didn’t know how he’s carried on in secret, under the guise of being “two men on a ranch doing things that needed done. Branding cattle and mending fences.” In town they were cold and hard, firm handshakes and steeled gazes. Inside they lived another life. Silva on his knees, taking Jake into his eager mouth, feeling as his turgid member grew. Silva hollowed his cheeks and relaxed slowly down Jake's generous length until his mustache met the soft curls at the base of his lover’s cock. Silva’s eyes were soft and pleading as he gave himself to the older man, but his looks of love were never met. Not like this. Neither were they when they were in the creaking bed, Silva’s moans and curses muffled in the pillows. Jake was not tender and sentimental, he preferred to be straightforward and so he simply told Silva to take his pants down and get into bed. Of course he had complied and fucked down into his fist while Jake eased his thumb into his tight ring of muscle, working slowly and steadily, letting saliva drip down onto his fingers to ease his way before replacing his two fingers with his cock. The tenderness between them began and ended with Jake's hand on Silva’s shoulder, and Silva’s hand over his mate’s. Slowly Jake pulled back before pushing in again, squeezing the soft fat of his ass and easing his way with whatever oil he could find in town until he came with a shout. “Fuck. Fuck!” Feeling the pulsing in his ass, Silva came hard into a handkerchief. Jake could never love him like he needed him to, so Silva just took what he was given. A handshake, a promise to see each other again soon, and an uncomfortable ride home.

You only knew that going into town always made him poor company for a few days after. So you didn’t ask questions. You didn’t ask about the other supplies or what news he had heard, or even who he saw. You heated water on the stove and dragged the big wash tub into the front room for him so he could wash where it was warm and soak for a while if he wanted to. Silva was obliged and peeled off his layers of clothes, throwing them into a pile for washing later. “I’m so glad you’re back safe. I missed you every day.” You cooed at him soothingly while you soaped his back. As you washed his hair and carefully rinsed it, you massaged his tense shoulders. If you’d looked closer you’d have seen the faint bruises on his hips, remnants of the lover he would never leave. Instead you forged ahead. “I thought I’d make a stew when you get done and we can go to bed early tonight.” You hoped he would understand what you were asking for, but he glowered. “You go on to bed, I need to check the fences.” His voice was cold and flat. You couldn’t deny the hurt you felt at his rejection, but you wouldn’t let him see it.

You took a breath, and gathered his dirty clothes in your arms. His outer clothes were dusty, but the inside layers were clean, save for his rust colored undershirt. The one he looked so handsome and strong in, you loved how the fabric stretched across his shoulders and chest, hugged his strong arms and his soft belly alike. The shirt you loved to see him peel off as he walked toward your bed and told you all the things he was about to do to you. That shirt was clean save for a dried white stain splashed across the back, stiff and flaky, unmistakable. Silva saw as you connected the dots in your mind. “Just leave it. Go. Let me finish.” You tossed the clothes back down and saw the handkerchief fall from his pocket, tell-tale stains all over. Your hurt boiled into anger. “Are you trying to make a fool of me, Silva? You’re gone for almost a week, all you bring back is a sack of rice, you won’t make love to me, and you smell of cum. What do I say to you?”

Silva was incensed. He stood quickly from the washtub, his wet body shining in the glow of the kerosene lamps, hair wet and slicked back. If he wasn’t unfaithful to you he would have been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen. “You don’t say anything to me. You don’t ask me any questions and you don’t expect any answers!” He was red and bellowing, quaking with his misplaced anger. “I give you everything you need and I care for you. Isn’t that enough? Or don’t I fuck you enough? Is that it? You’re a desperate slut and you can’t wait for more? Well?” You couldn’t answer him like this. You shook your head and turned to go, but he was out of the tub and holding you against his chest before you could make it to the door.

“Take this off. If you want my cock so bad, I’ll give it to you.” His hands moved to unbutton the front of your dress, he was careful with the buttons despite the anger in his voice. He was thawing. With your arms out of your sleeves he pushed you into the wall, holding you there with his thigh between your legs. The wild look in his eyes made your cunt throb against it. He covered your mouth with his and kissed you hard and deep while his hands gathered your skirt and found your ass, digging his fingers into it, he pulled your core against his thigh, grinding it firmly into your center. Unsatisfied, he pulled away to lift the pretty dress over your head while you untied your slip and let it fall at your feet. Both of you naked now, you looked at each other, catching your breath before he picked you up and carried you to bed.

“Silva please. I need to know you’re mine.” You whined into his neck while he slid his hard cock against your folds, wetting them with your own arousal.

“What do you need? Tell me.”

“Need you inside. Need to feel you.”

He couldn’t be gentle now. He had to pour every ounce of his hurt, anger, confusion, despair, love, lust, jealousy and desperation into you tonight, had to transfer his feelings the only way he knew how. He notched at your entrance, taking time to tease your clit with the weeping head of his cock, and entered slowly, backing out slightly, then pushing further, repeating the pattern- back- forth- forth- back-forth- forth until he was as deep as he could get, and settled there. He kissed you and sucked your nipple into his mouth as he plucked at the other, teasing your nipple into a hard peak. The sensations were everything you wanted, fully engulfing you like a bonfire he had set. You needed more. You bucked your hips, nudging him to move, to meet your thrusts. You could only move as much as the mattress would allow until your love relented. He kissed up your chest and sat up tall on the balls of his feet. He liked you like this, helpless beneath him, needy, wanton, begging. “Is this how you want it? You want it hard like a whore? Want me to tell you I’m yours? That there’s nobody else?” “Yes, yes, please. Just fuck me. Please!” You needed your release. Feeling how full he made you had you so close to tipping over the edge that if he would just give you a little more you could reach it. Instead he moved slowly, circling his hips, quiet so you could hear how wet you were, hear how you whined and cried out for him. You heard him breathing hard too though, how he needed this just as much. “Let me come, Silva. Pleasepleaseplease!” He began fucking you faster, licking his thumb and pressing it against your clit. He could feel you squeezing him as you got closer, and he doubled his efforts, feeling generous now. He drove into your pussy. “Take it. Take all of me. Look at you, you’re so good for me, my love, I want you to come for me. Come on my cock so I can fill you.” He babbled meaningless filth at you and held your hips down with one hand over your mound, stroking your clit, and the other reaching up to cup your tit. That was enough. Your orgasm rolled over you like a heavy wave, and he fucked you through it, dragging it out until you settled, then closing his eyes to cover your stomach with his cum.

You wiped yourself clean with a towel, then threw it onto the rest of the semen covered laundry. When you washed it, hung it out to dry, then folded his handkerchief to tuck into his bureau, you knew it was just a matter of time until he went back to his lover.

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal character smut #pedro pascal characters #bat writes #smut #Silva #strange way of life #Silva strange way of life #extraña forma de vida #Silva extraña forma de vida #silva x jake #silva x reader #Silva x you #swol #Silva swol #Silva was manipulative as hell

[yamameta-inc]

it isn't about the gintama essays but i would love to hear your elaboration on phoenix kristoph etc!

oh man. sure! i don't really know where to start if you want me to explain them from scratch.

basically, kristoph/phoenix to me is just a much funnier (and thus better) hannigram. the game of gay chicken (and legal/murder chicken) is really heightened by the fact that kristoph is committed, due to his own ego and atrocious personality, to pretending to be nice and caring while phoenix acts like the most obnoxious person on the planet. not directly to kristoph, since he also has to keep up the pretense. but like come on. it's established that they have dinner together, what, almost every day of the week? that's insane. normal working adults--certainly lawyers of kristoph's calibre and renown--don't see their best friends that often. they don't see their family that often. can you imagine how busy kristoph is, how many other things he'd rather be doing? but instead phoenix makes him come to this shitty ass fake russian restaurant, where the tables and shit are covered in snow. phoenix makes kristoph freeze his ass off in order to eat bad food and listen to his shitty piano playing almost every day. and kristoph has to do it. he has to do it because the persona he chose was of phoenix's incredibly selfless saviour.

and the best part is that in addition to this it's also genuinely toxic and traumatic. these two are doing "keep your friends close and your enemies closer" to such an absurd degree and it's my favourite mix of drama and comedy. phoenix is obsessive, resentful, and insanely stubborn and he once again restructures his entire personality in order to deal with kristoph. and the fact that he could be intimate with kristoph (and here i cross into the realm of very subjective interpretation) in a self-harming way while also doing the above borscht bowl nonsense is incredible to me. i don't really care at all about kristoph outside of their dynamic and his impact on phoenix, but i do think this extremely manipulative and abusive villain having to grit his teeth internally and take the absolute nonsense phoenix says at him (grapes are tasty and easy to eat) is also the best part of his character. kristoph would absolutely say "the trout is a nietzschean fish", but then phoenix would say "huh? oh, gesundheit" and kristoph would have to breathe into his silk handkerchief for a moment and feign choking on a fish bone, and then phoenix would get to go "aww you have to be careful with those. i once knew a guy who swallowed a fish bone and it grew a new fish inside of him."

beyond that it's incredible to me that they set up kristoph as a sort of... well, to put it bluntly, an edgeworth rebound. where is edgeworth in AJ? it doesn't matter. he isn't here. but instead there's this other (uglier) guy who has superficially similar traits to him (and who's even more of a queer-coded villain). fancy, faux european, INTJ meme, a gay little thing around his neck... and they even make him assume a rehash of wrightworth's backstory as his public entry into phoenix's life. like hey. why did they do that. he literally mimics edgeworth's position relative to phoenix, becoming his sole defender in a big scary trial. we all know how deeply edgeworth's actions as a fourth-grader who knew phoenix for like one year impacted phoenix and rearranged his brain chemistry. it stands to reason that as an adult going through a genuinely terrible and miserable patch of life, phoenix would've been.................... Something about kristoph. and then he would've learned the truth, felt betrayed, etc etc. did i mention that for some reason kristoph also perfectly fits into his self-proclaimed Most Hated Things In The World list, born from his bad experience with his evil ex-gf? really makes you think.

#why did they do this? well maybe they knew it was epic and awesome and hilarious. #aa

[thesolarangel]

Steddie x Judas Priest

Part 2 · Read part 1 here

Rated: E · 1.800 words · biker-Eddie x bartender-Steve, quickie in the alleyway, semi public sex (they don’t get caught), hand job, praise kink, dirty talk, modern setting, leather, hand kink, mention of hanky code, light dom-sub vibes, possessive Eddie, subby Steve, mention of “daddy” just once · Read on AO3

We hold each other closer, as we shift to overdrive

And everything goes rushing by, with every nerve alive

We move so fast, it seems as though we've taken to the sky

Love machines in harmony, we hear the engines cry

I'm your turbo lover

Tell me there's no other

I'm your turbo lover

Better run for cover

On and on we're charging to the place so many seek

In perfect synchronicity of which so many speak

We feel so close to heaven in this roaring heavy load

And then in sheer abandonment, we shatter and explode (explode)

________

The bar was packed on this Saturday evening. The annual biker convention had drawn motorcycle fanatics from all over the state to Indianapolis and the “Hellfire Bar & Grill” was the most popular biker bar in the city.

But the experienced bartender that he was, Steve didn’t have trouble keeping up with the orders. And he was getting tipped generously, too. He had only started working here two weeks ago and had already made almost a hundred bucks in tips alone. 

“You’re pretty popular… But if anyone behaves inappropriately, you tell me straight away, alright? These guys can be a little too friendly sometimes.” Jocelyn, his employer and owner of the bar, had told him after she had witnessed how the customers had started to swarm the bar instead of sitting at their usual tables when it was Steve’s shift. These bikers surely were tough looking and eyed him up like a piece of meat, but so far, they were harmless.

“Sure thing, Jo”, he had assured her. He could handle the stares and the occasional rude pick up line himself. He wasn’t worried. 

What did make his heart rate spike, was a particular guy he hadn’t seen before until today. Steve was currently wiping down glassware behind the bar when the stranger walked in. He was a lot younger than most of the bald and white bearded bikers that hung out here, around Steve’s age, maybe 30 or 32 years old. 

His long, unruly brown hair framed his handsome face nicely and he had a good amount of dark stubble going on. He wore a black leather jacket and a pair of black leather pants that hugged his ass nicely. A black handkerchief peeked out of his left back pocket. Steve had heard about a sort of “hanky code” being popular among gay guys, but he had no clue what they meant.

The biker's big brown eyes found Steve’s. He held his view for a few seconds and then winked at him, a cheeky smile curling his lips, and walked over to find a seat at the bar. Steve felt his neck and face flush and he looked away, trying to concentrate on the task at hand. And attending to his customers. Which meant he had to go over to him eventually…

Eddie spotted the new bartender from across the room immediately. Kind eyes, beautiful mouth, broad chest and a smile to die for. The black polo he wore stretched around his biceps deliciously and a little bit of dark chest hair peeked out from under the collar. He knew he had to talk to him. Eddie made his way through the crowd of people, to find an empty space at the bar.

He tried so hard not to stare at this pretty creature, he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. When he risked another look, he already came over to him.

“What can I get you?” 

“Just a beer, whatever you have on tap.” Eddie leaned forward and added “Oh, and your name if you don’t mind.”

“Steve”, the pretty bartender said with a genuine smile.

“I’m Eddie” 

~

Steve’s heart was racing in his chest as he went to pour his beer. This guy was even hotter up close. His voice had a low gravel to it that went straight under Steve’s skin.

Steve came back and placed the beer in front of him. 

“Thank you, gorgeous”, he said and took a big gulp of his drink.

Steve noticed the man’s broad hands. Slender, veiny fingers adorned with several silver rings. He thought about what they would feel like wrapped around his cock.

Be professional, Harrington!

~

The beer didn’t quite satisfy the thirst Eddie felt right now. For the past half hour he had been watching Steve mixing drinks, cleaning glasses and even bending over to attach a new keg under the counter. The latter made his shirt ride up and exposed part of his tanned skin. Eddie imagined bending him over and kneading Steve’s round ass. Instead he gripped his glass harder, knuckles almost going white.

~

In the course of the night, Steve could feel Eddie’s eyes all over him while he continued serving drinks and maintaining the bar. He tried to concentrate, but his mind was already ahead of him, imagining all the naughty things he’d let him do… He was going crazy…

Fuck it.

He grabbed a napkin and wrote something on it, then passed it over to him, disguised under a bowl of peanuts.

~

Eddie looked at him confused. He didn’t order peanuts. But then he discovered the napkin: “Meet me in the alley in 10.”

…

Eddie walked over to him, heavy steps, broad shoulders. Steve’s eyes wandered over his body and he noticed a large silver belt buckle in the shape of a skull that drew attention to Eddie’s leather clad bulge. Steve swallowed hard. His heart pounded in his chest and he could feel his jeans tighten. This guy was his wet dream come true.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Eddie grinned.

“Hey…” Steve smiled back shyly.

With an almost predatory look on his face, Eddie closed the distance between them in a hungry kiss. His big hands pulled Steve closer, roaming over his back and digging into the meat of his ass.

Eddie kissed him hard, messy and with so much desire it made Steve melt like butter beneath his big hands. He felt like every nerve inside of him was alive and yearning.

Then Eddie started moving him backwards, until Steve’s back hit the wall and he cornered him against it. He nudged his leg between Steve’s and let out a low growl, when Steve grinded against him in trembling motions.

Eddie deepened the kiss passionately, ravishing Steve’s mouth, kissing him firmly over and over again, biting his bottom lip playfully and then licking over it, soothingly. He grazed his tongue over Steve’s lip, demanding entrance into his mouth, making Steve moan into the kiss. 

The sounds that he makes.

Cupping Steve’s face with one hand, stroking his cheek, Eddie broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “You gorgeous creature.” He purred deeply, watching as Steve’s pupils went wide with lust from hearing his praise.

“Isn’t it dangerous for you to work here, baby?” The possessive growl in Eddie’s tone went straight to Steve’s dick. “All of these men stripping you with their eyes… making advances at you…”

“I can take care of myself.” Steve answered, but Eddie felt he heard something in his tone that wasn’t entirely truthful. He pulled his leg away, stopping Steve from grinding against him. Steve immediately complained with a high pitched whine.

“Hmm, no, that’s not it, there’s more…” Eddie teased him, his lips wandering down Steve’s jaw and neck, sucking a bright red mark into the soft flesh. 

Steve pushed his hips impatiently against Eddie’s, longing for friction, but he was denied. Eddie held him in place firmly with both hands on his waist. Moaning and writhing, Steve admitted: “I – I like the attention… makes me feel good…”

“There it is, good boy…” Eddie finally reached to palm Steve’s aching bulge, drawing a desperate noise out of him. “What else, baby?”

“Having your eyes on me the whole time… made me so fucking hard.” Steve whined, digging his fingers into Eddie’s hair on his neck. “But it’s just you that I like staring at me, not the others.”

“That’s it, baby. You’re mine.” Eddie groaned dominantly. He opened Steve’s jeans and took him in hand, pumping him a few times, making Steve whimper in his ear. Then he unfastened his own belt and zipper and took his cock out. It didn’t escape Steve how thick he was, he had hoped he was, eyeing his bulge before.

His other hand let go of Steve’s waist and fished a small packet of lube out of his pocket. “Open this for me, baby.” Steve ripped open the edge and Eddie poured the contents onto them both, easing the glide of his hand. Steve made a lewd noise as the cold fluid spread over the tender head and shaft of his cock.

“I’m gonna take good care of you, Stevie.” Eddie promised as he wrapped his ringed hand around both of them, jerking them off quickly. 

Steve knew he wasn’t gonna last long. Not with this hot leather daddy praising him and marking him up. Steve seeked out Eddie’s lips once again and their mouths crashed together in a heated kiss. His cock was throbbing in Eddie’s hand, he felt so close to his release. The pressure of the many rings on his hand adding to the intense pleasure he felt, moans and whimpers falling from his lips between kisses.

“You’re perfect, baby, let go”, Eddie growled and his low, possessive voice made Steve’s head spin. Eddie pressed the pad of his index finger against the sensitive underside of the swollen head of Steve’s dick, teasing it mercilessly.

Steve’s surprised yelp turned into a wrecked sound as he felt himself shatter into a million pieces, spilling his load into Eddie's hand.

Eddie groaned, encouraged by Steve’s noises and with a few more frantic tugs he came, making even more of a mess all over their dicks and his own hands.

Steve was panting heavily, hair disheveled, cheeks flushed and when he looked up, he noticed Eddie was watching him again.

“God, you’re perfect… so beautiful”, Eddie cupped Steve’s cheek with his other hand, watching his expression. Steve smiled at him.

“Hang on…”, Eddie murmured and fetched the hanky from his back pocket and cleaned them up. “Guess I need a new one now…”

“You know, I never figured out what these mean.” Steve said curiously.

Eddie’s eyes went dark, a seductive smile curling his lips. “Oh, I’d be happy to show you… next time?”

“Next time.” Steve confirmed and went in for another kiss, slowly this time, dragging out each tender movement of his lips over Eddie’s. When he broke the kiss to get some air, his face was glowing and he looked at Eddie with heated eyes. 

Eddie held his view, stroking over Steve’s lower back in a gentle rhythm. “But you gotta know, pretty boy… I will ruin you for anybody else.”

tag list: @starlady66 @bananaphanta @fenharel-enaste @queenmeriadoc @elronds-pointy-ears @hbyrde36 @hammity-hammer @corrodedbisexual @spoookysix @rozzieroos @cranberrymoons

_____

MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

#Spotify #steddie fanfiction #steddie smut #judas priest #steddie x judas priest #dom eddie x sub steve #biker eddie #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #smut

[inlocusmads]

So I'm bored 😁 Let's have some fun. (Only if you want, no pressure!)

Did Jane go to her HS prom? What about Ethan?

What did they wear?

If you want, share any of the other character's prom wardrobes too.

Sorry it took me decades, Jerz! Thank you so much for thinking of me!

I didn't find any suitable pictures unfortunately, so I resorted to painfully and meticulously describing the whole thing lmao!

Jane went to her high school prom which was held right before graduation. She didn't have dates or anything and went with her friends from school. It wasn't that important to her, obviously; dances are definitely not her thing, but after digesting the fact that she was not going to be a petulant angsty seventeen year old, she decided to celebrate happy endings and went all YOLO on it.

First, of course, her outfit: Jane was not a fan of conventional prom dresses because well, one, she was ridiculously tall and they all went only till her knees and the tallest dress per se, looked like a wedding gown. She wanted a dress which was also optimal for dancing and singing; as in something without a long train that might pose a colossal hazard.

She tried looking for suits but then her Mother was quick to shut her "gay millionaire" dreams down, which greatly disappointed her, because she did look exactly like a gay millionaire with the high heels and the resting serious look she had going on. In the end, she went for a dress - round-neck neckline, sleeves spanning to her elbows and the dress going all the way until her ankles. They could only work with the constraints.

The prom dress was mobile and not too over-the-top or dashing, but it did have a really cool gradient V-shaped pattern all the way to her torso. The dress wasn't too heavy as well and she could frolick around without tripping. Plus the psychedelic V-patterns only made her want to get the dress and Jane was willing to ignore some sequins and glitter along the neck area and the hem.

Prom night went great. Lots of fruit punch, pizzas and pastas. Dancing and drinking. Jane ended up hijacking the DJ's booth and forcing him to play rave music which the crowd really enjoyed before the chaperones pulled her off and set the music back to some generic pop. There were lots of cool lights and there were even photobooths where Jane and her then-friend, Kira spent a lot of time taking silly pictures. Lots of festoons and it was generally a very fun night.

Ethan was reluctant on going but he also secret wanted to go - it was a confusing mess. Being the "quiet basketball-loving nerdy character" he was, he was subjected to a lot of peer pressure to do things and everyone insisted him to join them for prom. Half the girls in the class had a small crush on him, so when he did show up to the school gymnasium with a hesitant expression on his face, everyone was quick to shower him with a lot of attention.

Firstly, they were surprised Ethan had a dressing sense: He had borrowed one of his father's suits - one that was a little too big for him, but was made to fit with a lot of pins and alterations. It was a standard one - nothing too over the top, punctuated with a deep magenta tie. His hair was well coiffed and gelled, courtesy of Alan of course, who taught him how to groom himself well.

The suit in itself was a bit plain, so Ethan wore his best shoes - a pair of blue sneakers that he really treasured. It clashed a lot, but he didn't mind it very much. He'd also come very prepared. In his pocket were a handkerchief, a penknife, a pen in case he'd have to write something down and a collection of keys.

Ethan was there only for the music and the food, both of which were mediocre at best, but he did end up discovering his love for contemporary rock when they played Under Pressure by Queen. The food was all right but the best part was the dessert. Cake pops, sweets, pastries oh my, Ethan was going ham on the sugar. Literally. It was the greatest sugar high he'd ever experienced.

They had a prom king and prom queen tradition at his school and Ethan of course, did not win. In fact he didn't even realise he was nominated until the chaperone called out his name from the podium. The prize went to a Derek and a Hailey, but he had a lot of fun anyway. He hung around with one of his best friends of that time, Victor and the two of them even went to grab some victory pancakes post-prom.

___

As for Nora, she didn't go to her high school prom. In fact, she pretty much avoided everyone after her Dad's gruesome murder. Trystan didn't go either because there weren't "school dances" or anything equivalent that his school conducted. It was mostly a military-esque academy that didn't have fun parties or anything.

As for Maura, well, she was in the Tower and the school there didn't go to many lengths to organise a school dance and all that romance. Plus she's aroace anyway, so she would've most likely skipped it and she and Troy would've spent the night thieving things from the kitchen and eating them with the radio on.

Thank you so much Jerz!

#askboxed! #jerzwriter

[spockandawe]

Okay, I think I found what I really wanted to root out with Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu and the physicality of their book relationship.

Because I will argue for days that Wen Kexing is terribly touch-starved, especially at the beginning of the book. For eight years, as the Valley Master, he’s only allowed Gu Xiang within a meter of him. They have a fairly casual relationship, but they straddle an awkward line between family and master/servant, and as the Ghost Valley Master? Everyone in Ghost Valley, including Gu Xiang, is at least a little frightened of him. He’s affection-starved as much as he is touch-starved, and having one person who cares more than she’s frightened isn’t really enough to overcome that degree of isolation. When a servant woman is combing his hair and accidentally hits a snag, she begs for her life, and his first reaction is to ask if someone forced her to wait on him. He’s been the Valley Master since he was a very young adult, and he’s been in Ghost Valley since he was a child.

And it’s so interesting to me that a lot of cnovels really emphasize that when the leads are in a relationship, it’s their first relationship, and they never wanted anyone else, but Wen Kexing (and jing beiyuan in lord seventh, which is an interesting parallel) really directly subvert that. Gu Xiang almost immediately remarks that Wen Kexing spends plenty of nights with male courtesans, and partway through the book, Wen Kexing uses a handkerchief from a famous courtesan to treat Zhou Zishu’s injury. He left the valley and entered the human world, and immediately threw himself into the arms of other men.

And Zhou Zishu, I would say, is also touch starved and affection starved, but is coping differently from Wen Kexing. No matter how strained and/or political his relationships with the Emperor and the government are, and even though he took charge of the Four Seasons Manor at... fifteen, iirc, he did have at least one close, affectionate (for a zhou zishu value of affectionate), trusting relationship, with Liang Jiuxiao. And where Wen Kexing starts the book with a comfortable relationship with Gu Xiang, Zhou Zishu starts the book knowing that his shidi is dead, and in Lord Seventh, we see the ways that he failed and/or “failed” Liang Jiuxiao, with Jiang Xue, and with staying at his post during the final battle instead of rushing off and trying to find his shidi, and it working out... not well. And I think it’s fascinating that unlike Wen Kexing, when he leaves Tian Chuang to reenter the human world, he’s content to be almost completely solitary, and focuses his attention on seeing the sights and drinking good wine.

A really interesting parallel to me is in the Ye Baiyi extra, where he mentions that it’s only human nature to crave food and sex, and he’s too old to care about sex, so food it is. Because that’s not a thought he ever shares with the other characters, but it’s very interesting to me that in the novel, in that first burst of enjoying their freedom, Wen Kexing is so focused on physical intimacy, first with courtesans, and then with Zhou Zishu, while Zhou Zishu is much more focused on physical pleasure must less dependent on other humans, like sightseeing and wine.

But once Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu are in action together, and once Wen Kexing definitively gets invested in Zhou Zishu, the physical progression of the relationship is really interesting to me. Wen Kexing gets very handsy and very forward, very quickly. Zhou Zishu tends to either endure or push him away, depending on the situation, but compared to something like, say, svsss, there’s much less ‘but i’m not gay though’ and much more generalized irritation until he (much more slowly) gets invested in return. 

And I probably would have brushed it away except for that one scene where they were about to do it, and get interrupted by the Scorpion King. First, this line, which makes it absolutely clear that as much as Zhou Zishu had given up on living a long, normal human life, Wen Kexing was in exactly the same position. Now, seeing Zhou Zishu potentially get a new lease on life, he’s forced to reckon with the idea that it might be possible for him to live on in the same way, which casts a whole new light on how casually he slept around with courtesans and propositioned Zhou Zishu earlier in the story, versus where he stands now.

They were both lone wolves who had been caught in hunters’ traps, struggling with all of their strength to free themselves to no avail, and thus, were willing to gnaw their own legs off without mercy.

[Wen Kexing] hadn’t been able to help following him, from watching him. Then a revelation had dawned— He’d realized, for the first time, that if Zhou Zishu could live like this, was it also a possible for him to live like this?

And then when Wen Kexing starts to catch a fresh round of feelings, Zhou Zishu’s response says volumes about his prior reactions whenever Wen Kexing got forward with him.

“A-Xu, sleep with me once. This way, we’ll keep each other in our hearts. You won’t die so easily then, and neither will I. What do you think?”

He said it jokingly, yet Zhou Zishu did not reply, only looked at him oddly. A while later, he finally asked, “Are you truly sincere about this?”

Wen Kexing laughed, his body tilting towards Zhou Zishu. He spoke, nearly against Zhou Zishu’s lips, “Can’t you tell if I’m sincere or not?”

Stunned, Zhou Zishu paused, then said in a low voice, “I… truly can’t tell. I haven’t experienced many instances of sincerity over the course of my life, and can’t identify it. Are you?”

Wen Kexing's fingers drifted up his shoulder, and tugged his hair loose. Dark hair cascaded down, making the tough man before his eyes look a few degrees more fragile in an instant. He dropped his cheeky grin, and in a soft voice, filled with momentous certainty, said, "I am."

Wen Kexing is most starved for touch, while Zhou Zishu is most starved for sincerity. Zhou Zishu was up to his neck in court politics in Lord Seventh, where a major focus of the story is about how sure, the Crown Prince may be deeply in love, but he’s the future Emperor, and ultimately, his feelings land way down the priority list. Up until this point in the story, with Wen Kexing waxing eloquent about how pretty Zhou Zishu must be, and calling it ‘mariticide’ when Zhou Zishu hits him, and being like ‘no no let’s hear the man out’ when the Scorpion King wants them to put on a sexy show for him, Zhou Zishu hasn’t been able to tell whether  Wen Kexing means it. 

I love me a story where the leads are terrible communicators and it causes them much Suffering, but this is a really tasty variant that I don’t feel like I see that often. Their hungers are so similar, but just disjoint enough that they can’t understand each other’s reservations. For a soulmates story like this, it’s just the right kind of tension to make the relationship work extra well for me. They’re in sync about this, as they are about so many things, with just enough of an offset that they’re both left ever so slightly uncertain, and it isn’t until they trust each other enough to ask a question as plain as ‘are you truly sincere about this?’ that they’re finally able to close the gap and reach that understanding with each other. 

#wenzhou #wen kexing #zhou zishu #faraway wanderers #meta

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part four

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (still a slow burn but it’s getting closer)

warnings: some violence but not really, men being creepy, language (one f bomb), also badly written speaking while crying, aaand i think that’s it

word count: a little over 2300

a/n: aaaah it’s part four babes!!!! the response to this has been so positive i’m in love with y’all!!! <3 <3 <3 i’m still way behind on my classwork and going through a terrible break up but we’re pushing through here

p.s.: my requests are still open if y’all want me to write yall something! aaalso, there’s a bucky short coming tomorrow ;)) <3

series m.list

ray’s m.list

********************************** 

This strange man’s hand was still caressing my hair as he smirked down at me. Running has hands up to the root and then yanking my head upwards to face him directly. “When I speak to you, you look me in the eye, little one.” Not one to show my fear, at least not to men like him, I scoffed. Thick brows shot towards his hairline and a twitch in his jaw as he clenched it. The hold he had in my hair gave him leverage over me. I winced as he lifted his arm to bring my face closer to his. A small whimper escaped the back of my throat, saliva gathering in my mouth. “Don’t test me, little one.” I sneered then spat in his face, the wet substance sticking to his face across his nose and cheek.

Bringing a hand up to his face to swipe the thick liquid from his skin, he glowered as he pulled his palm away. Then several things happened at once. The man forced a harsh breath out and then I was facing the ground with a sting on my left cheek. A gasp left my lips, he just slapped me. Who the hell does he think he is? I shook my head and then leveled my gaze with the man’s. I’m almost positive that my cheek is sporting a bright red handprint that does nothing for my complexion.

“What the hell man? What was that for?” I groaned while attempting to soothe my throbbing cheek on my shoulder. I mean, was it kind of justified? I did just spit in this man's face. No, he totally deserved that. After releasing his grip on my hair, he transferred his hands to the sides of the chair I was chained to. The metal scraping along the concrete floor caused a loud screech to reverberate through the small room.

“I said not to test me, bitch.” the man growled out as he pushed my chair onto the back two legs. I’m starting to think that this is a bit more serious than I originally thought. “Now, you’re going to sit here like a good little bitch and tell me what I want to know.” He retreated only to grab the chair that Suits used. Slamming against the pavement he straddled the chair with his forearms resting on the back.

“How many missions did you participate in?” I released a groan and rotated my head, leaning my head back.

“I already told your friend,” I tilted my head to speak directly to the absolute jerk-wad of a man in front of me, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man quirked an eyebrow and clenched his jaw. He rolled his neck, causing the bones in it to crack and then stood. He walked to the other side of the metal table that sat in the middle of the room. The sound of a zipper caused me to snap my head to where he was standing. The tactical vest he was wearing dropped to the metal surface allowing for a loud thunk to flow through the room. He stretched out his shoulders and swung his arms out in front as if he was trying to increase the blood flow. I’m the one who’s literally tied to a freaking chair, what does he need blood flow for? My breathing quickened,  calm down, don’t show any fear. He popped the knuckles of his hands and approached me.

“I’m not a patient man.” He bent at the knees and leaned his face closer to mine. Exhaling into my face, he maintained eye contact with me. “And you’re not acting like the good little girl we both know you oh-so-desperately want to be.” I rolled my eyes at that, apparently that was the wrong thing to do in this man’s face. His left eye twitched as he stared at me.

“Do you think you could back up? Your breath reeks, man.” I have no concern for my own well-being do I? The man’s head tilted to the side and then he wolfed out a gruff laugh. He shifted his weight to land on the heels of his feet and threw his body into the laugh. It was a bit disconcerting to see this man laughing so wholeheartedly in a situation that didn’t feel funny to me. Another blow to the side of my face was issued, however this time he didn’t stop. Several open handed hits were delivered, all the while he was resetting my head back by grasping my chin. My breathing was becoming labored, my chest heaving up and down in a frenzy. He gripped my chin and jerked it upwards so he could stand at his full height to tower over me.

“How many missions did they send you on?” He demanded, increasing his hold on my face surely leaving sickening bruises that would match his fingers perfectly. At some point, tears began running down my red cheeks.

“I don’t kno-ow what you’re talking ab-about!” Tears streaming down my swollen face, “I s-swear to god, I don’t know wh-what you mean!” Choked sobs were preventing me from breathing correctly. The man grabbed my shoulders and shook my body.

“Calm the fuck down and speak clearly.” Small hiccups were escaping my mouth without permission. Why am I letting this guy get to me? What the hell is happening? “How many missions did they send you on?” I broke down again, fat tears leaking out of my eyes.

“I ju-just want to go h-h-home. I s-swear I don’t kno-ow anything!” I shouted in his face. He glowered at me and lifted his hand from my shoulder. My whole body tensed as I readied myself to the impact.

“Johnson.” The door burst open, stopping Johnson from landing another hit. “This is not what you were supposed to be doing.” Suits walked back in the room. Johnson backed down, lowering his hand and turning to the new member in the room. “Sir, I was told to interrogate the prisoner.”

“Yes, Johnson, interrogate her. Not beat her to a pulp.” He gestured wildly with his hand. “If the boss found out you were doing this, he’d have your head on a platter.” Suits took steps closer toward us and Johnson shrunk into himself. “Get out of here before I call him about this.” Johnson nodded quickly and left the room quickly, leaving his tactical vest on the table.

I was still quietly crying while strapped to the metal frame of the chair. Suits approached me while pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He raised it to my face and I jolted backwards away from his touch. “Easy now, I’m only here to help.” Is he seriously pulling a good cop, bad cop routine on me right now? He wiped my cheeks of the salty remnants, “Now, how can I help you besides that?”

“You co-could let me go h-home.” I tried to say without stuttering, clearly unsuccessful. I didn’t want to show my emotions but really at this point, could it get worse?

“Awe, girly. You know I can’t do that until you tell me what I want to know.” He began to drag the chair next to me, back to the opposite side of the table. This created an obstacle between the two of us, which made me slightly more comfortable knowing he wouldn’t be able to reach me as quickly.

I heaved a sigh, “but I don’t know anything.” My weeping had come to a definite end, making way for frustration. My face heated for a different reason than being struck several times.

“See, this is where we disagree because I know that you’re lying to me.” He shook his finger in my face and I scrunched my brows together, flicking my eyes between his finger and face.

“You’re kidding me. I told you I don’t know about any missions.”

“Oh really? Then who’s Gemini?” He reclined in his chair, looking smug. “Actually, you know more importantly, who is Libra? The whole thing is just fascinating to me.”

“I don’t know what any of that is. I swear to whatever you want me to.”

“Then why do I have this that says you do.” He held up the manila folder that he first walked in with. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Whatever is in there is lying to you.” He cocked his head to the side and flipped the folder open. He removed a photograph from the folder and placed it on the table in front of me. Staring back at me, was a slightly younger version of myself with shorter hair. A large X was drawn across the whole picture and underneath it read the words ‘Agent Libra.’

My eyes widened, “I have never seen that before, in my life.” Suits sighed heavily and then began flipping through the rest of the papers.

“So what is the Svengali?” He threw out another paper and I glanced down at it. It looked like a typed report of some kind. Much of it redacted by thick black lines. The words Libra, Gemini, and Svengali were visible amidst the sea of dark ink.

*****************************

A ping sounded throughout the room causing the screen of the phone to illuminate. A metal hand reached for the thin device.

New mission alert. You’re needed. Meet at the compound.

Great, this is just what Bucky needed to keep him distracted. Sleep never came easy to him so he was spending copious amounts of time trying to catch up on what he missed out on. Steve told him to make a list and Sam kept rambling on about some gay Marvin man? Bucky much prefered to do things on his own. He hasn’t had help for over ninety years, why should he need it now?

Throwing on his leather jacket as he began to leave his apartment, he checked the pockets for the keys to his motorcycle. He also made sure to grab his gloves. Even though T’Challa and Shuri were good enough to give him a new vibranium arm, Bucky still wasn’t too keen on being stared at in public. It was better for everyone if he just kept the arm tucked away as much as he could while around strangers.

He did one last once over of his apartment before locking the door behind him. He jogged down the stairs towards his bike. It definitely was his pride and joy, it was the first thing that he bought with his own money since 1943. His apartment was courtesy of Pepper Potts, no thanks to Tony’s complaining. Tony and Bucky had eventually worked out their differences, to say the least. Tony still hadn’t fully forgiven the Winter Soldier for killing his parents, and neither had Bucky so they were agreeing to disagree.

The ride to the compound from Brooklyn wasn’t a hard one. It gave Bucky time to appreciate the scenery around him. Slowing to a stop at a four way stop just outside of the compound, Bucky dropped his feet to the tarmac below, stabilizing the bike between his legs. He tilted his head back and felt the warm rays of the sun on his face. Warm was something that Bucky was still getting used to, it was easier in Wakanda. He had his own hut, voluntary therapy sessions, and easy-going check ups with Shuri in her lab.

Everything was simpler in Wakanda, but what Bucky missed most from Wakanda was the stability. He didn’t have to worry about missions, or keeping up with Steve, or the crushing guilt that he felt whenever he saw Tony. After parking his bike at the facility, Bucky made his way to the meeting room. Dark wooden tables in an L-shape appeared in his view. Steve and Sam were standing in front of the large monitor that was displaying images of an unknown, yet familiar looking woman.

“Tony, we don’t know if she knows anything.” Natasha said, apparently trying to rationalize with someone else in the room.

“Natasha, we don’t know that she doesn’t not know anything.” Tony shot back, Sam turned slowly and opened his mouth with a confused expression on his face.

“Tony, we aren’t in an episode of FRIENDS. This is serious. We need to decide if this is worth pursuing or not.”

“Wilson, that’s all well and good but we have to acknowledge that this woman could get us our first real break in our search.” Tony explained while taking deep breaths.

“What are we deciding?” Bucky interrupted as he plopped into one of the chairs. Now that Bucky has been given his freedom back, he’s able to display a difference between his mission self and his regular self.

“This woman here,” Steve gestured to the woman on the screen, “is a member of the Virago. It’s an international branch of SHIELD that was believed to be infiltrated by HYRDA years ago.”

“This is the agent code named Libra. Her last mission was with another agent code named Gemini. The mission report has since been lost to us. All we know is that Libra and Gemini were instructed to watch a Svengali safehouse. Apparently something went wrong and only Libra made it out alive.” Tony added, “Which is why we need to find her and see what she knows.” “Tony! There’s no guarantee that she has any knowledge of this mission.” The redhead stressed as she leaned over the table towards the man she was speaking to.

“I think we should find her.” The words left Bucky’s mouth before he could stop them. All motion in the room stopped.

“Um, did the Manchurian Candidate just agree with me?” Tony questioned as the rest of the room remained quiet.

“Look, I’m not necessarily agreeing with you.” Bucky started.

“Nope, can’t take it back.” Tony mused, “Already said it.” Bucky sighed and shook his head.

“Why do you think we should go after her Buck?” Steve inquired. Bucky’s brows furrowed and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I think I know her from somewhere.”

#watch your six #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #eventual bucky x reader #female reader insert #Sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n

[johnnydoe69]

Beware the Evil Eye

In the peaceful twilight on the island of Euboea, a bright yellow Hummer sped down the road leading to a grand villa, Eurotrash music blasting over the speakers. 

Kosmas watched this from the front windows and sighed. The clouds of dust kicked up by the Hummer were dirtying the grapes that grew on both sides of the road. 

When the Hummer loomed from only a few miles away, Kosmas rang the service bell. At once, four other servants crowded into the foyer. 

A nervous electricity rippled between them as everyone got into position.

“You better not fuck this up,” Giorgos hissed from behind. 

Kosmas flipped Girogos a warm and comforting smile, “Oh, don’t be pessimistic. It’s always been harder to keep that boy in his clothes, rather than out. I’ll have that nazar in the palm of my hand within the hour.”

Behind his confident grin and laidback tone, however, Kosmas had his doubts. In all his years working for his grandmother, Kosmas had never seen Paul take off his nazar. It was a protective amulet meant to ward off the evil eye- spiteful magic aimed to target sources of envy and disgust- and it directly prohibited Kosmas from using his magic on him. 

If Kosmas couldn’t convince Paul to take it off from around his neck, or at least sneak it off without him noticing, there was little chance he could take it by force. The man was built like a dump truck and would break him in half if he was seen as a possible threat. With little other choice, but to go forward, Kosmas took a deep breath and opened the foyer doors. The five of them quickly trotted out the front door and down the marble staircase leading into the driveway. 

    By the time they reached the last few steps, Paul’s truck had come to a complete stop, a few feet away from the steps.

    For a few seconds no one moved. Even from inside the massive vehicle, Kosmas could see the dark blue energy radiating from underneath Paul’s tank top. 

Kosmas immediately began to sweat and had to dab himself with a handkerchief before Giorgos nudged him from behind. Paul was glaring at them from the Hummer.

    Remembering himself, Kosmas quickly ran to the driver’s side door and opened it. Paul came out with a thud, his massive feet stomping into the dirt. 

Walking back around the car he came before the servants,     a scowl prominently on his face, but before Paul could yell at them Kosmas interjected.

    “Paul, it’s so good to see you,” Kosmas exclaimed, a smile plastered on his face.

    “It’s good to see you too,” Paul said, lazily, striding past him.

    Paul turned his attention to Girgos and threw his car keys at the massive man’s chest.    

“Put this in the garage after the others get my bags. Kosmas, follow,” he ordered, walking past them and ascending the stairs.

Kosmas looked to the others for one last bit of assurance, but they had already moved on to taking care of Paul’s possessions, their backs turned to him.  

    Seeing that Paul had already made his way up several steps, Kosmas sprinted after him.     “How was New York?” Kosmas asked, panting.

    “Miserable. I was trapped on the Upper East side for six months with nothing to do but work from home and exercise in my private gym,” Paul said, glumbly. 

    “Have you tried reaching out to Dimitri and Lysandros?” Kosmas asked, trying not to trip as he shared Paul’s massive strides up the steps. “I remember you telling me about how you always had the best workouts together.”

    Paul grunted approvingly, “We did, but everyone’s too afraid to go anywhere. Lysandros promised he’d swing by Greece after his visit to the Caribbean, but that’s in two weeks. Now, look at these biceps, do you think my body can wait another two weeks?”

    Paul paused on the staircase and flexed inches from Kosmas’s face. Thick blue veins popped out from underneath his pale skin and stretched over his cannonball bicep. 

“This arm used to be at least three inches larger. I was practically wasting away back there,” Paul said.

In the past, Kosmas would have been weak at the sight of Paul’s raw muscle in his face, but he couldn’t let himself get distracted.

“What about the private gym you said you had at home?” Kosmas asked, trying not to let his annoyance show.

“Pft, I barely had any weights. I only had a treadmill and bowflex to keep me together.” Paul said, as they resumed their climb.

“Well, I’m sure you won’t have any problem maintaining a pump here. Your grandmother had the whole basement refurbished into a private gym for your arrival,” Kosmas said, sweating profusely through his white linen shirt. 

They reached the top of the stairs shortly after, Kosmas having to lean over and take a quick breath, while Paul beamed down at him without a drop of sweat on his body. 

“Some things never change, right, Kosmas?” Paul asked, slapping Kosmas hard on the back.

“Yes, of course,” Kosmas wheezed, balling his hands into tight fists. 

Paul left him there as he journeyed inside, while Kosmas once he collected himself and un-balled his fists followed behind. 

“So where is Evita anyway?”  Paul asked when Kosmas entered the foyer, taking off his baseball cap to scan the balcony above them. 

    “She had some business to attend to in Athens, but she told me to offer you the warmest greeting in her absence. She should be home by morning,” Kosmas said, still panting a little.

    Paul nodded and without another word strode into the lounge. Kosmas rushed ahead of him and quickly started getting together a bottle of bourbon and shot glasses.

    “What’s this, Kosmas? If this is from Evita’s private stash she’ll have Giorgos beat you like last time,” Paul said, taking a shot when it was offered to him, and plopping himself down on the couch.

    “Don’t worry, Paul. I haven’t forgotten about last time.” Kosmas said, with a polite smile. It was only until recently that he recovered feeling in his toes and it still hurt to curl them.

“I bought this bourbon in advance for your return home.”

    The liquor in this case had been drugged, weakening both the protective power of the nazar and increasing Paul’s sex drive. Kosmas made sure not to drink any of it himself, he couldn’t allow himself to get twisted up by Paul’s influence. It was always hard to say no to the man as it was.

He poured Paul another glass and placed it in his pitcher’s mitt sized palm. 

Paul looked around, curiously, “shouldn’t there be more servants milling around? I’d hate to think that I would have to fetch my own meals.”

“Oh, it won’t come to that, the few servants who are left are more than capable of picking up the slack after your grandmother fired most of the staff,” Kosmas said, cheerily, dying a little inside as he sat down besides Paul.

    “Wow, covid really hitting everyone hard,” Paul said, stretching out his thick arms and legs, before resting against the back of the couch.

    “Most of my friends in New York had to lay off their serving staff too. Too much risk of infection and with the stock market the way it is, it doesn’t hurt to remove extra liabilities.” 

    Paul kicked up his legs on the coffee table, forcing Kosmas to work around him as he poured him another glass.

    “Did she fire your father, too?” Paul asked, glancing down at Kosmas’s bowed head.

    “Yes, she did,” Kosmas said, gritting his teeth, handing Paul the finished shot glass.

    “Wow, harsh,” Paul said, snatching the drink out of Kosmas’s hand and gulping it down.

    “And knowing Evita, I bet she’s not giving that old fuck his severance pay,” Paul said with a chuckle.

    The dark blue aura around Paul’s neck was fading and Kosmas could feel his own powers surging as Paul’s slowly declined. He was so close to taking Paul’s body he could taste the sweat dripping off him. Kosmas slowly inched over to Paul, leaning his arm behind the big man’s neck. He was going to enjoy this.

Just before he could grab it, Paul turned to him and with a serious look in his eyes asked, “And that good for nothing fisherman hasn’t been coming around, has he?” 

Kosmas shrank away from Paul. The idea of touching him, even to steal his body suddenly repulsed him. To keep his sanity, Kosmas had banished all thought of what had happened to Andros from his mind, and Paul had once promised him that the man would never come up again.

“No,” Kosmas said, weakly. “He died in prison. Covid.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Paul said, sliding his large vascular hand on Kosmas’s thigh. Kosmas felt his dick harden and he saw that even through his jeans Paul was full mast as well. 

“I know you think I’m cruel for what happened and I’m sorry you feel that way. But I did it because I love you Kosmas. I couldn’t stand anyone coming between us,” Paul said, kissing Kosmas lightly on the cheek.

“Don’t give me that. You have fucked every gay man from here to Istanbul. You just couldn’t handle me paying attention to someone that wasn’t you,” Kosmas said, bitterly. He poured himself a glass and choked it down. Fuck the plan, whatever was going to happen wasn’t going to happen with him sober. 

Paul frowned, and grabbed Kosmas by his chin, pulling him in close. His grip was strong and Kosmas was terrified the man might accidentally break his jaw. His hot breath was blowing in Kosmas’s face and he could smell the faint tinge of spearmint gum on his breath. 

“I can handle competition. What I couldn’t accept was that you would choose someone so beneath me as a rival for your affection. You easily could have picked any of my friends, any of the wealthy bachelors on the island and you picked filth scraped off the bottom of a boat?”

Kosmas glanced over at the nazar, its energy had nearly faded from around Paul’s neck. He reached for it as Paul shot him a carnivorous smile. 

“But it’s okay now, because we both know I’m the only man for you,” Paul whispered, grabbing Kosmas’s hand and placing it on the back of his neck. He leaned in and began kissing his neck, sending sharp electric pulses all up and down Kosmas’s body.

Kosmas, feeling his chance slipping away, but unwilling or unable to act, gave himself over to the pleasure of the enchanted booze and Paul’s embrace. 

Paul moved his hand off Kosmas’s chin and foisted the smaller man onto his lap. He ripped at Kosmas’s work shirt, buttons tearing off and bouncing to the floor. 

His dick shot through the fabric of his jeans, massaging Kosmas’s ass as he moaned. It had been years, since he was fucked by another man and as much as he hated him, he couldn’t stop himself.

“Wait. I don’t want the other servants to see,” Paul said, pulling away. 

“Then, let’s take it upstairs to your room,” Kosmas said, pulling playfully at the small strands of hair on Paul’s head.

Paul shoved Kosmas off him, nearly knocking him off the coffee table, before snatching him by the wrist and pulling him out of the lounge and up the stairs. 

They threw themselves into Paul’s bedroom and on his bed, kissing furiously and grabbing at each other. Paul briefly pulled away and threw off his tank top, his charm necklace now prominently displayed on his chest. But instead, of the menacing power it once had, the amulet was now powerless, all its energy being soaked into the enchanted booze that seeped out through Paul’s sweat. 

Feeling his power return to him came with a sense of lucidity as Kosmas tested out the control he had over Paul.

When Paul leaned in to rip the underwear off Kosmas’s legs he found that he could no longer move. Every muscle strained against him as his blood vessels contracted, leaving him terrified and utterly helpless. 

Kosmas overcome with his sense of success laughed at the display of the larger man hanging over him. He slid out from underneath him and traced a finger along Paul’s back feeling the many hills and ridges of his massive muscular frame.

Small, confused grunts escaped Paul’s lips as he tried to make sense of what was happening, so Kosmas decided to let the man speak. 

His body partially freed from Kosmas’s control, Paul panted and took a deep shuddering breath.

“What are you doing to me?” Paul asked, quietly, his breathing labored. 

    “Remember, when you told me that I was to be yours forever?” Kosmas asked, kicking his underwear to the floor.    

“In a way, I am going to be yours forever, just not in the way you thought,” Kosmas said. He got in the bed behind Paul, using his control over Paul’s body to make him shrug off his jeans, while he faced the headboard, unable to look back. 

    “For you see, in all our years together a resentment has been building. An intense hatred. You treated me as a plaything, because your family controlled my father’s paycheck. You hurt me whenever you wanted, fucked me whenever you wanted, and killed anyone that came in danger of severing your control of me.”

    After Paul pushed off his jeans, Kosmas decided to do the extra work of pulling Paul’s tight red jock strap off his ass. The soft fabric curled in his fingers as he pulled downwards, Paul whimpering slightly. 

    “I didn’t know he would die in there. It was a mistake,” Paul stammered, cowed probably for the only time in his life. 

    “That’s the fun bit about the magic of the evil eye, Paul. It doesn’t give a shit about accidents or circumstances,” Kosmas said, sliding the jockstrap out of Paul’s dick and ass before sliding it down his thighs. 

    “It only cares about outcomes. The outcome in this case being, the only man I’ve ever loved is dead because of you.” Kosmas said, calmly, throwing the underwear behind him.

    “So, to repay your earlier favor I’m taking your life because you stole mine,” Kosmas whispered into Paul’s ear as he rubbed his back.

    “Please, my grandmother will give you anything. Just don’t kill me,” Paul begged, tears sliding down his cheeks.

    “Oh don’t worry, you won’t die, not really. I’ll just be taking your body and your identity as my own. And don’t worry about Evita either, the other servants and I have big plans for her,” Kosmas said, plucking a baseball cap off the nightstand and placing it on Paul’s head.

Kosmas grinned. 

“There’s my favorite sports star,” he whispered, kissing Paul’s ear.   

    Paul said nothing as Kosmas gathered himself into trance, using the entirety of his magic to make his body into a superfluous membrane. 

    Within a few minutes, his body had become a clear viscous like substance. Still in trance, he pushed against Paul’s back, feeling him gasp with pain as Kosmas entered his body. 

    He slid inside the man in seconds, but he was left in pitch darkness. His form had to grow and stretch against the confines of Paul’s body, his legs inflating, his back adding several inches of spine.

    Paul bucked against this of course, frothing with rage as he engaged in a losing battle against his own body, but within a few moments it was done.

    His essence was constrained and then enveloped by Kosmas’s, sucking in his emotions and memories, before crushing what remained of his free will and sense of self. By the time he was done with him, all that was left of Paul was a library of thoughts that Kosmas would have full access to.

    Finally in full control, Kosmas allowed himself to concentrate on his body’s physical sensations.

    He felt his massive chest breathing in and out. Around his neck the nazar still hung off his neck, once again glowing with a blue intensity, but instead of the sharp pain or weakness Kosmas feared there was nothing. The nazar recognized this body as his own.

He cracked his neck and pulled his arms over his head, surprised at their weight. He pulled his arms down and opened his eyes. Crawling off the bed, Kosmas took a few unsteady steps forward and curled his toes. No pain.

He grinned.

As the years passed, Kosmas or Paul as he was known publicly, whittled away at Evita’s title and fortune using lawsuits, bribes, and blackmail until he could finally run her off the estate. 

With Evita removed from power, the fired workers were able to return and together with several nearby villages were able to operate an agricultural co-opt that guaranteed housing and jobs to the people. 

Kosmas thrived as an administrator of the co-opt, keeping things running smoothly with his eye for finances, while his well-muscled body helped out in the fields. 

He still felt conflicted about wearing the body of someone he hated, but he found ways to alter his appearance without drastic measures, growing out a beard and letting thick brown hair grow all over his chest. He was in control of things for the first time in his life and Kosmas couldn’t be happier. 

#male transformation #male tf #Possession

[thetriggeredhappy]

Idk if ur taking requests... But.... A continuation of the cute pyro gets a cat fic... But also there is engiespy... Gee pyro who let you have two dad's and two cats... Just a thought👀👀👀 also I've said this before but very cool fics I read them every night before bed, gay little 4k word tf2 bedtime stories:)

this one is closer to 1.5k but i hope it scratches ya brain itch. here’s that other fic for folks who haven't read it, go nuts

(warnings for spy threatening the cats and mention of one cat catching mice)

-

The sound of one shiny black Oxford shoe tapping irritably against the lineoleum of the floor was what eventually drew Pyro to glance up from where they were patching a tear near the cuff of their flame suit. They looked up and processed first the chubby orange cat being held out towards them, then the torn-half-to-hell sock in that cat’s mouth, then Spy’s deadpan expression.

“Your animal has once again decided to pilfer from my living space,” Spy informed them, lip curled in a sneer.

Pyro hummed an apology, moving to take the cat in question with much more gentle hands, tugging the remains of the sock from his mouth and moving to pet at his head. Lucky almost instantly moved to roll over onto his back and bat at Pyro’s gloves happily. Pyro laughed and passed the sock to Spy, who more snatched it away than took it.

“Thank you,” he said, voice venomous.

“You know,” Pyro signed between the cat attacking their glove. “He only gets like this because he wants to play.”

“Not my problem,” Spy all but snapped, turning and leaving the room at a brisk pace. “Control your animal.”

Pyro sighed, looking back down and scratching at the cat’s cheek.

-

“Engineer!” Spy all but screamed later that day, storming up the hallway towards the man in question’s workshop, loud enough that the Engineer actually heard him over the sound of his drill and powered it down, glancing up in time to see him stomping through the door.

“Howdy,” he said cheerfully, biting back on the immediate amusement he got from how perturbed Spy seemed in that moment.

“Would you care to tell me why I found this in front of my door?” Spy hissed, holding up a handkerchief. Engineer craned his neck to look at what was in it, and his eyebrows rose for a moment before his smile ticked up at the corners.

“Looks like lil’ Sissy left you a present,” he chuckled, glancing back down at his work again. “Means she likes you. And besides that, that she’d doin’ her job catching mice.”

Spy absolutely fumed. “I don’t believe dead rodents constitute as gifts, Tinkerer,” he managed through gritted teeth, dropping the handkerchief on the desk.

“Fair enough. Makes sense you’d feel threatened, being a rat yourself,” Engie hummed.

A pause as Spy took a moment to be deeply indignant, scoffing in disbelief. “I won’t stand for this—this disrespect!” he finally managed.

“Then sit down,” he said with a shrug, nudging the stool next to him with his boot.

“I’m going to kill that cat,” Spy finally said, voice firm, and left the room.

“No you ain’t, and we both know it,” the Engineer drawled after him.

-

The sound of quiet cursing in French, approaching the Resupply room. Several sets of eyes turned in the direction of it, and finally Spy came into view, picking at his suit angrily, the absolute picture of annoyance.

“Yo, what’s got your panties in a bunch?” Scout snickered.

“Forget your lint roller at home?” Demo chimed in, also grinning.

“Yes,” Spy said, glaring at the two of them. “And unfortunately, a stupid, terrible animal has decided to ruin my suit.”

“Oi, be nice, Scout can hear you,” Demo joked, and laughed as Scout slugged him on the arm.

“Well, yes, he is indeed terrible, but I meant a certain someone’s horrible beast of a cat,” he said, glare turning towards Pyro. “I’m not sure when, but at some point today, the boy one decided to lay on my suit.”

“That does sound like Lucky,” Pyro signed casually, returning to refilling the canister on their flamethrower. “It’s not so bad, though. It’s just a little cat hair.”

“Oh, ‘just a little cat hair’, isn’t that rich,” Spy deadpanned, continuing to pick at his suit. “Of course. Évidemment. It’s not as if this suit couldn’t pay for me to destroy, clone, and then destroy that cat again.”

Pyro just laughed as though he was joking, which was actually the most infuriating thing they could’ve done. Spy continued to swear and threaten the cat under his breath until well into battle that day.

-

The Spy jolted awake at the sound of a loud, plaintive meow.

He sighed hard, rolling his eyes and turning over to try to get back to sleep again. A second and third meow followed the first, though, and finally after a minute or so of the yowling, he shoved off his blankets and stood, muttering angrily under his breath.

He swung the door of his room open. “Quoi?” he spat down at the little orange cat sitting patiently just outside.

She meowed softly and darted past him into the room.

“Non. Sûrement pas. Non.” he said firmly, strolling after the cat, who darted beneath his bed. “Get out from under there. We aren’t doing this.”

The sound of paws scuffling against the ground, then a long silence.

“Fine, have it your way,” Spy muttered, shutting the door and moving back to bed. “Enjoy being trapped in here until morning.”

In the morning in question, he woke up to the sound of purring, and the feeling of kneading against his arm. He looked over and saw Sissy looking at him with narrowed eyes, paws pressing against his bicep beneath the blanket, and finally she curled up there, still purring like an outboard motor.

“Non,” he said again, sitting up and dislodging her as he left the bed. She simply stood and moved into the recently-vacated warm spot, still rumbling quietly. “You think you’re clever, do you?”

She blinked up at him slowly, tail swaying slightly.

“Don’t insult me. This isn’t going to work. I am a cold, bitter, heartless man, and I am impervious to these weak attempts at winning me over,” he said firmly.

She yawned, stretching briefly. Spy scoffed, turning away and starting to get dressed.

Twenty minutes later, a knock at his door. It was the Engineer, helmet in his hands, looking worried.

“Uh, now Spy, I know this might be a strange request,” he opened with, making Spy raise his eyebrows. “But Firebug is a little concerned, hasn’t seen Sissy since last night, and we were wonderin’ if you’d help us look for her, I know it’s early and all—“

Spy turned away, bending and scooping up the cat where she was moving up just behind him, presenting her to the Engineer wordlessly.

He blinked, carefully taking the cat. “Oh. Thank you.” A pause. “Was she here all night?”

“Oui.”

The start of a smile. “Finally warmin’ up to her?”

Soy scoffed, walking out of the room and kissing the Engineer on the temple in passing before continuing off down the hallway. “Not a chance,” he said easily.

-

Spy sighed heavily as Lucky jumped up into his lap as he sat in an armchair in the common room looking through the paper, pooling there happily and purring like he wasn’t in very real danger. “Terrible. You are a terrible creature. I hate you,” Spy deadpanned down at him, but Lucky just shifted to bat at his tie happily. “You’re awful. One of these days I’m going to put you in a box and leave you by the side of the road for the coyotes. Do not test me.”

Lucky shut his eyes, still purring like he had nowhere to be.

“I need you to understand that, asleep or not, I will be standing and leaving this chair eventually, and I will be doing so as though you are not presently on my lap. The only potential issue with this plan is how very fat you are. Otherwise, I have no qualms with this.”

Lucky continued to purr, blinking up at him briefly as Spy shifted the newspaper and continued reading.

Pyro stopped dead in their tracks as they passed through, starting to giggle as they looked at the scene. “New friend?” they signed when Spy noticed them there.

“Potential new hat,” he said darkly, and Pyro laughed, moving into the kitchen. “I don’t know why you laugh when I say these things! I’m not joking!”

“Sure you aren’t,” they poked their head out to sign, and returned to the kitchen.

Spy mumbled more curses, even as he briefly dropped a hand to pat Lucky on the head begrudgingly.

#shut up me #everybody talks #tf2 #team fortress 2 #napoleon complex #engiespy #my fanfiction

[the-dump-of-whump]

The Hunter - 6 - Hunger

CW: gay vampires doing gay vampire things, blood, mild gore, non fatal blood drinking from an animal,

Previous | Next

***

“Hey Darius?” Whispered Thomas

“What is it sweet?” Darius hummed

“I’m really getting hungry, it feels weird.”

“Oh I forgot you would need to feed more.”

“What?”

“When human born vampires are first turned they need to feed more for the first moon. You need to drink blood or eat raw meat as often as you would have previously needed to eat, you’ll also still need to eat human food for the first year.” Darius explained “We’ll go hunting in a little while. For now it’s ok if you want some of my blood to tide you over.”

“Vampires can drink each other’s blood?”

“Yes, although my blood won’t give you the nutrients you need, it will make you feel less hungry. For a while at least.”

“Okay” Thomas said, nodding “how do I... umm...”

“I’ll guide you”

Darius moved so that he was sitting straddling Thomas’s lap. He gave him a reassuring smile. Thomas’s eyes had turned red with hunger. Darius pushed his head down to his neck.

“Open your mouth”

He latched on and began to drink without further instructions or notice. Darius hissed at the sudden sensation. He’d never been drank from before.

“Slow down” Darius said “if you drink too much of my blood you’ll make yourself sick” his grip tightened, almost bone crushing. “That’s enough.” He gently pulled him off.

It took Thomas a bit to pull himself back together. His eyes went back to their normal shade of brown.

“I’m so sorry”

“It’s ok,” Darius said running his fingers through Tom’s hair “But You’ll crash in a bit, that won’t be too fun, then you’ll need real blood.”

“What do you mean?”

“I already told you. You can’t sustain yourself on the blood of another vampire. After a while you’ll start feeling hungry again but we’ll go hunting before then.”

***

They went out as the sun began to set. Everything smelled different to Thomas now. He stood there in the back garden mesmerized by his newly heightened senses. Darius couldn’t help but smile at the wonder clear on his lover’s face.

“Come on” Darius said, gently grabbing his hand and pulling a little “let’s get something to eat, I’ll explore with you later.”

Thomas pulled himself out of his thoughts and followed after Darius. The walked through the forest to the edge of a clearing. There stood four deer, two bucks, a doe, and a foal.

“Stay here. Watch.” Darius whispered.

He crossed the clearing silently and with incredible speed. He grabbed one of the bucks and pierced into its neck with his fangs. It went still. Darius carried it back into the trees and placed it at Tom’s feet.

“Is it dead?” He asked

“No I just paralyzed it with my venom.” Darius explained “I don’t particularly like to kill animals either”

“Venom?”

“You won’t develop venom glands for a while yet.”

“But doesn’t your venom turn people.”

“Only in the right quantity, in smaller amounts it only causes temporary paralysis.” Said Darius “Drink before it starts to wear off.”

Thomas knelt beside the buck. He let his fangs drop down and lined them up with Darius’s original bite. Warm blood poured into his mouth

Darius sat next to him as he drank. He warned Thomas as the paralysis began to wear off. Thomas gently pulled away. A little bit of blood stained the corners of his mouth. Darius handed him a handkerchief before leaning down and licking up the blood still running from the wound. When he pulled away the wound had closed.

“How did you do that?” Thomas asked

“Vampire saliva is a healing agent.” Darius explained

“That is equally disgusting and amazing.”

“I guess it is.”

Darius pulled Thomas away as the buck began to stir. They watched it wander back to the group.

“Do you want to explore now?”

“Yes please.” Thomas smiled.

***

continued here

Master list

#writing #whumpblr #original writing #original character #original work #ocs #the hunter #darius #thomas #vampire hunter #vampires #whump series #whump story #fluff #series

[teacupfulofstarshine]

pattonella part 9: virgil sweetheart PLEASE learn how to read the room i’m begging you

cw: mentions of injury, mentions of death, nightmare, anxiety attack, mild angst

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 // part 6 // part 7 // part 8 // read it on ao3!! 

“can i please be cleared to read books on my own now?” logan says. “because i love the sound of virgil’s voice, but i’m sure he has better things to be doing than sitting here reading to me at all hours.”

“shut up, there’s nowhere i’d rather be,” virgil says. he flushes immediately, but logan just smiles and reaches for his hand. remy rolls his eyes and peers into logan’s eye. 

“you were nearly killed by a horse, prince logan, i think you can afford to relax just a little.” logan huffs, sounding very much like a small child, and virgil smiles. “still, it’s been about a week . . . i suppose i can clear you. but no strenuous activity, and the second you start feeling any pain or discomfort or anything out of the ordinary you come and tell me, you understand?” 

“crystal clear,” logan says, sitting up a little too fast and wincing. remy glares suspiciously at him, but doesn’t offer any additional commentary. “i am looking forward to the ability to walk around without you two constantly hovering over me as though i am made of spun glass.” 

“maybe if you would stop running into danger,” remy mutters. he reaches out and ruffles logan’s hair softly, and the prince doesn’t immediately bat his hand away. “i’m still sending healing potions with your meals, and you will drink them all.” 

“yes, mother,” logan huffs playfully. remy rolls his eyes again and flounces out of the room. virgil has never seen a real human flounce before, but there truly is no other word to describe what remy is doing. 

“i bet you’re happy to be off bed rest,” virgil says. 

“ecstatic,” logan sighs. virgil stifles a yawn behind his fist, but logan immediately picks up on it. “what was that?”

“uh . . . a yawn?” 

“why are you yawning? has your sleep not been optimal?”

“not really . . .”

“why has it been -” logan’s eyes widen in recognition, and he frowns. “oh . . . i - i apologize, virgil.”

“why?”

“you have been awake because you were taking care of me. you have been foregoing sleep and tending to your own health because you have been so concerned for mine. i am so sorry, virgil, i did not mean to make you think that you had to -”

“shut up,” virgil interrupts. “you honestly think i would have been doing that shit if i didn’t care about you? if i didn’t give a fuck i would have fucked off and let someone else do it. i lo - i - um - i care about you a lot.” 

logan looks at him, hair adorably ruffled, eyes wide and pretty, face flushed pink from being buried under mountains of thick, warm blankets in the sunshine, and virgil immediately shoves a pillow into logan’s face to cover his massive blush. “shut up!” 

logan laughs softly, putting the pillow on the floor, and reaches out to take virgil’s hand. virgil huffs irritably, but he lets logan take it. “come and lay down, virgil. you are clearly exhausted. you must rest. you have dedicated your entire life this past week or so to caring for me, and that cannot be easy.” 

“it’s not work,” virgil says, remembering an old sappy book he’d read once. “not to me. not if it is you.” 

“i know,” logan says softly, “but you are tired. sleep, my dear. please? for me?” 

logan gently tugs on virgil’s hand, virtually no force behind it, and virgil topples onto the bed. he shuffles around, keeping his face pushed into the duvet, and manages to settle laying on his side, staring into logan’s eyes. this close, he can see all the freckles that cluster around logan’s nose and eyes. 

“you have stars on your ceiling,” virgil says, “and they’re on your face, too.” logan’s face turns a little pinker, and he smiles, reaching up to tuck a curl behind virgil’s ear. 

“you’re not sleeping,” he says. 

“how can i sleep when i’m looking at you?” virgil says. he bites his lip immediately, he can’t believe he said something so sappy and gay to the prince, but logan smiles and gently drags his thumb across virgil’s mouth. 

“don’t bite your lips,” he murmurs. “they’re so soft. i love to kiss them.” he leans forward and gently pushes his mouth against virgil’s, and virgil closes his eyes and exhales into the kiss. 

“here,” logan hums, carding his hand through virgil’s hair. virgil snuggles up to his chest, draping an arm over logan’s hips as he slots his legs in between his. “when i was small, before -” his chest hitches slightly under virgil’s ear. “- before my mother died, she would sing to me, and thomas used to sing it for roman and i. perhaps it will help you. i can put no magic in my voice, but i can sing.” 

“whatever you want,” virgil murmurs. “i’m sure your voice is beautiful.” 

logan takes a few deep breaths, inhales, and begins to sing. “A naeoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth Mise rid' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhan . . .” 

virgil is so taken with the beauty of logan’s rich voice that he isn’t sure how he manages to fall asleep at all. 

*~*~*~*~*

everything is black, and suddenly remy appears, shining a small light into logan’s eyes to assess the severity of his concussion. past. 

everything is black, and suddenly logan appears, stroking his hand through virgil’s hair, mouth open, eyes half-shut as he sings. present. 

everything is black, and suddenly roman appears, sword raised in front of his chest, blocking one, two, three blows before an arrow pierces his shoulder, his chest, his stomach, his neck. 

future.

*~*~*~*~*

logan is half-asleep when virgil bolts upright, eyes flaring purple, screaming. “virgil -”

“something is wrong, something is wrong with roman!” virgil shrieks, voice warped and distorted and strange. logan feels his heart turn to ice and drop into his stomach. 

“what is wrong with my brother?” 

“i had a vision, he was fighting, he got pierced by arrows and he went down and something is going W R O N G logan!” 

before logan can stop him, virgil is on his feet, scrambling out of bed so fast he almost faceplants onto the ground. he’s out the door before logan can stop him, but he’s on his feet almost immediately to chase him. 

*~*~*~*~*

“are you sure this is a good idea?” claire says. her hands are clasped behind her back as she studies the map roman has spread out on the table. it’s covered in red x’s and dotted lines, surrounded with candles, with a dagger sticking out of a particular clump of trees. 

“we know that’s where they’re hiding,” roman says. “they won’t attack this village as long as we’re here, they’ll wait until we decide to ‘abandon’ these people and then they’ll raze it to the ground. we have to strike at the root of this issue, and that means attacking their hideout. we ride at dawn.” 

“prince roman,” claire says, “you know that i am your most loyal advisor. i would request permission to speak freely.” 

“granted, claire, always granted.” 

“prince roman, i think this is foolish. they let us find that base easily, too easily. i suspect it is a trap.” 

“they’re probably setting one,” roman sighs, pushing a hand through his sweaty hair. “but what do you want me to do? not attack? we know that they’re there, we know that they’re planning something!” 

“wait a day or two,” claire says. “take some time to plan a strategy. send a scout to see if there are any obvious traps that we can plan for. we have to play this smart so that we don’t end up losing soldiers.” 

“so we don’t end up losing me, you mean.”

“you are the prince of our kingdom, prince roman. you have two brothers waiting for you at home, not to mention the newly-discovered lord sanders. we cannot risk bringing you home as a corpse.” 

“you don’t have to coddle me, claire, i’m not made of glass!” 

“i never suggested as much, prince roman,” claire says coolly. “i am merely reiterating that you should remember that you cannot throw yourself recklessly into danger with no consideration of those waiting for you at home. i will leave you to your thoughts. should you choose to march in the morning, we will of course support you, but i suggest you reconsider this plan.” 

she ducks out of the tent, and roman sighs, running his fingers over the depiction of the sanders manor in the corner of the map. “patton . . . i want to come home to you . . . but i have to free these people. how do i balance this?” 

he pulls the dagger out of the map and twirls it around in his hands. he has a lot of thinking to do.

*~*~*~*~*

“i’m not sure this is okay for me to do,” thomas says, looking hesitantly at the dais. the king’s throne stands tall and regal, with the queen’s throne smaller but no less regal beside it. 

“you are the crown prince,” joan, the advisor beside him, says. “it is your right.” they hold out a small velvet pillow with the circlet of the crown prince resting on it, opal gleaming rainbow in the morning sunlight. 

“i’m not the crown prince,” thomas protests. “roman and logan aren’t married yet, i can’t legally be named the crown prince, and i’m not allowed to wear that or - or sit on the throne, or do any of this!” 

joan sets the crown on the dais and reaches out to gently take his hand. “prince thomas . . .”

“dad is still alive,” thomas says, eyes watering. “he’s weak, and he’s sick, but he’s not dead yet, i’m not - i don’t have to replace him yet . . .”

“i’m sorry, prince thomas,” joan murmurs. “i didn’t realize that it would affect you like that, i -”

“it’s not your fault,” thomas sniffles, wiping at his eyes. “i know you guys don’t think about it like that, but - but it’s my dad, you know? i know the kingdom is going to lose its leader soon, but - but i’m gonna lose my dad, you know?” 

joan nods, squeezing his hand and offering a handkerchief from their pocket. thomas takes it, dabbing at his face. “thank you, joan.”

“of course, prince thomas. you can stand on the dais if you want, since you still have to receive -” 

the door to the throne room slams open, wood ringing against stone, and thomas whirls around. before he can even reach for the hidden dagger he carries on his person always, before joan can step in front of him, virgil is speeding across the room. there are two guards behind him, trying to catch him, but virgil is outpacing them rapidly. 

“virgil?”

once he gets closer, thomas gasps, taking in details. his hair is unkempt, his clothes are askew, and his eyes are glowing solid purple. “crown prince thomas,” he says, and thomas winces at the distortion of his voice. “i have had a vision that must be brought to your attention immediately.”

“you can see the future?” joan gasps. 

“what did you see?” thomas asks. 

“prince roman is in danger,” virgil says. “there will be an attack, and he will be killed by arrows. we must aid him immediately.” 

there’s a watery noise from behind virgil, and he spins around to see patton standing behind him pressing his hands over his mouth. “roman - roman is going to die?” 

the purple in his eyes flickers away. “wh - patty?” 

“roman is going to die?” patton repeats, hurrying forward and grabbing virgil’s hands. 

“not necessarily,” virgil says, putting a hand to his head and beginning to sag forward against patton. “i - the vision showed him dying, but it also showed that giant horse killing logan a week or so ago, and he’s still alive.”

“we have a chance to stop it?” thomas says. virgil turns to look at him. 

“i - yes, your highness, i think there is a chance to save him.” 

thomas nods. “are you sufficiently prepared to travel?” 

“i can be in an hour at the least.”

“good. take a party of guards and go after roman.”

“i’m coming too,” logan says, striding through the doors. “remy cleared me from my concussion earlier, i’m going.”

“me too!” patton says. “i’m going with you, if roman is in trouble i have to help!” 

“i can’t risk you both,” thomas starts, but logan glares at him. 

“are you telling me that if father was well and running the kingdom, you wouldn’t be grabbing a sword and riding after him?” thomas winces, and logan lifts his chin victoriously. “exactly. i am going with virgil, and so is patton. roman is worth the risk.” 

thomas exhales. “go and pack, then. meet me here in an hour with a plan.” logan nods, whirls around, and hurries out of the room with virgil and patton on his heels. thomas hums, turning to joan. “i need you to bring me a specific volume of the history of the kingdom from the library.”

“of course, your highness. may i ask what for?” 

“i think i just found logan’s loophole.” 

#starshinewrites #pattonella!au #analogical #royality #virgil sanders #logan sanders #thomas sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders

[strawberryaziraphale]

It was the first show with his new material and to say Richie Tozier was nervous was an understatement. He peered through the curtain, swallowing as he watched the seats fill up. A full house. Of course, they could all be there to laugh at him, hoping to witness another breakdown. Little did they know that Richie was about to drop a huge sexuality bomb on them. He could see the Losers front and centre, wearing the custom t-shirts Beverly had designed. All except Eddie. Richie frowned, looking around to see where he had gone; he nearly leapt out of his skin when he felt a light jab to his ribs.

“Hey, Rich.”

“Shit, man, don’t do that to me...” Richie clutched his heart, swiping a handkerchief across his forehead, “I might actually die.”

“Don’t be stupid, you’re going to kill them,” Eddie beamed proudly, throwing his arms around Richie’s neck, “I’m so proud of you, Richie.”

Richie couldn’t help but smile back, holding Eddie tightly; he was absolutely head over heels in love with him, his feelings hadn’t changed at all since Derry. The Losers had offered their unconditional support when he told them he was gay. Eddie had been oddly quiet and told him, when they were alone, that he was going through the same thing. Things hadn’t changed, despite the increase in flirting and teasing, they were still best friends and roommates.

The lights dimmed slowly and the soft music playing had died down, the announcer beginning to psyche up the crowd. Richie could hear the applause and his heart thundered in his chest; he straightened his jacket and flashed Eddie a nervous smile. However, before Richie could take another step, he felt a hand on his wrist, spinning him around.

“Put your hands together for Richie Tozier!”

The crowd reached fever pitch and they craned their necks to get a view of the dark stage. As time went on with no appearance from the comedian, the clapping and cheering began to wane. Eventually, Richie stumbled on stage, almost two minutes late. He was a mess, to say the least; tears were streaming down his face and he frantically wiped them away under his glasses. The audience began to wonder what the punchline was, some of them chuckling already, before Richie began frantically pointing somewhere offstage.

“Sorry, I’m really sorry but the love of my life just kissed me, you’re gonna have to give me a minute...” the crowd erupted in delight as Richie composed himself, waving to the six people sitting in the front row. As the crowd quietened again, Richie fanned his face, “look at that, I’ve got a boyfriend now. Right, where we we? Yes, jokes! I can do that...”

Eddie couldn’t stop smiling as he took his seat between Stan and Ben and, judging from the looks on all of his friends’ faces, they all knew why. He didn’t care. This was going to be the best show of Richie’s career and he couldn’t wait to celebrate as a couple.

#I was going to write an au where richie got stabbed by pennywise instead of eddie but t I was in a fluffy mood #richie x eddie #reddie #eddie x richie #reddie fanfic #my writing

[noodles-writing-sideblog]

The first five times Roman went to pride

Aka the slow and steady (but mainly slow) track to self discovery!

Characters: Mainly Roman, everyone else is also here though!

Ships: Background Remile, eventual Rociet.

Agender Virgil, Pansexual Patton, Aroace Logan, FtM gay Remy, Gay Emile and Gay Roman!

Summary: The first five times Roman went to pride... that’s... that’s it. Its just shameless pride, there's something of a plot somewhere in there though 🏳️‍🌈

The first time Roman went to pride, it was with one of his housemates, Patton. He tried to blend into the background, something he didn't like doing but... it felt wrong, to go to pride when you're straight.

Patton was wearing a black t-shirt with – I kid you not – a stack of pancakes in pan pride colors and the word “PANtastic!” in popping yellow letters above them. He had proudly made it himself, and was striking up many conversations about it  throughout the event.

-

The next year, Virgil came out in a fit of rage after seeing some intense transphobia on the news. They blurted it out and froze, gaze darting to the others. Logan simply nodded and went back to his book, Roman shot them a smile, and Patton sprang over to hug them. “We can go to pride together!”

Virgil protested slightly, but Patton forced convinced them to make a punny sign - “Gay agenda? I don't even have a genda!” - and to come to pride with him.  

Virgil was hesitant to ask Roman to come with them, even though Roman had gone with Patton last year, but they eventually walked up to him and blurted “Will you come to pride with Patton and me? I'd feel better with you there!”

Roman was happy to go with them, to show his support.

The second time Roman went to pride, it was with Virgil and Patton. He hung back with Virgil, watching Patton bounce up to two people – one had bright hair and the other wore a beanie – and just stand and chat. “Thanks for coming with us! I mean I know you went with Pat last year but it means a lot!”

He grinned. “No problemo, my.. what did Patton say, sweet and sour shadowling? I love supporting my housemates!” he studiously ignored the slight blush on his cheeks. It wasn't a lie- but... nonsense, he was just bi-curious.

-

The next year Logan silently joined the pride party, tagging along with his housemates wearing a aroace pride tee. Nobody questioned him.

On the walk there, Patton gave a little hop to start walking backward. “Three outta four! You're not hiding something from us, are you Ro?”

Roman coughed, covering it poorly incredibly well by stumbling a few steps. “Nope! I'm just here to hang out with my housemates and for the food!”

The third time Roman went to pride, it was with all his housemates. When the crowd got particularly loud, Roman drifted away to get some air. He bumped into an positively tiny person with bright hair that looked vaguely familiar.

“Sorry! I'm avoiding my housemates- I didn't say that!” he blurted. They laughed, grinning up at him. “Any particular reason, or are you just avoiding them for the sake of it?”

He blushed. “Try pretending to be straight to their faces even though they're all gay and wouldn't judge me”

“Oof. Good luck with that, dude” they were about to continue when a voice called through the crowd. “Talyn!”

“Oops, gotta go. Good luck with that though!” they dashed away, calling back “Joan!”

He took a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck as he returned to the others. Why was it so hard to just tell them that he was bi?

-

The next year he and the others visited Roman's favorite cafe on the walk to pride. His crush the barista glided over, handing them their drinks. Patton noticed the pins on his apron – a trans flag and a he/him pronoun pin – and squealed. “Are you going to pride later? We're on our way there now!”

Logan and Virgil shared a facepalm, and Roman rolled his eyes. Patton was always enthusiastic to meet new people. But the cute barista just grinned. “My boyfriend and I are going together for the first time today! We've been together for years but this is our first pride party!”

Patton practically jumped out of his seat. “Maybe we'll see you there! I'll look out for you!”

The fourth time Roman went to pride, it was with his roommates and the cute barista (and the cute baristas boyfriend)

He sat with the group that year, listening to the barista (Remy) and his boyfriend (Emile) chat about their years together. He sat back, closing his eyes. His mind was racing until the light coming through his eyelids was blocked.

He sat up with an indignant yelp, blinking at the rainbow handkerchief Patton? Virgil? Someone had thrown over his eyes. He blinked slowly at it, then tucked it into his pocket before anyone noticed.

-

The next month, Roman was in Remy's cafe, heading out the door with a small bag, when he ran into him. Literally. They blinked at each other from the ground for a moment before Roman leaped up.

“Are you alright?” He offered a hand, pulling the other man up. Half his face was pink, the other half covered in a cool birthmark.

“I'm alright, are you?” The other man asked. Roman nodded, doing a tiny bow. “I am. See you around, perhaps?”

-

Ten months later Roman texted Patton, feeling guilty. I'm not going to be able to come to pride with the housemates gang this year. I'm so sorry.

Patton texted back a moment later. That's okay! Is there any reason or are you just not able this year?

Roman groaned. He felt awful, but he'd promised his boyfriend they'd go together. Something came up, I'm sorry again.

-

He met his boyfriend between his apartment and the parade, leaving about an hour after the others. He was swept up in a hug as soon as they met, yelping before returning the gesture. He was still a little anxious about public affection.

They walked the last mile together, hand in hand.

The fifth time Roman went to pride it was with his boyfriend, housemates, the cute barista, the cute baristas boyfriend, and two adorkable enbies Patton picked up before bumping into Roman. He raised the rainbow flag high that day. It was the best day of his life.

~End~

I now see what people mean when they say “F*ck it” post because I’m done nitpicking this thing it’s in your hands now.

Feedback is always welcome!

#Roman sanders #ts roman #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #Remile #Thomas sanders #Noodles wrote a thing!

[schmidtsmike]

surprising return : chapter 2, part 2

here’s the second part of chapter 2! it may have some small spelling errors.

_____

“What did you say?" he asked and sneered as he sucked the blood on his fingers and walked to the stands, the sacks of flesh moving as far away from him as possible and clearing the way for him to pass. 

He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and tilted his head, waiting for an answer, which to the damn luck of all humans here, Sam gave him "I said you can take him. No one will stop you" she explained and he climbed the steps to the top, taking a white handkerchief from his pocket to wipe some of the blood on his mouth and hands while Mona moved to stand protectively in front of Sam. As if that would stop him if he decided to kill her. Humans, he thought and rolled his eyes.

Ignoring everyone around him, he walked over to Josh and crouched beside him, listening to his heartbeat and the roar of his blood rushing through his veins and out the wound behind his head. He would surely be a delicious meal but unfortunately this one he couldn't eat, Eli was coming back.

Feeling like himself again, Eli didn't give a fuck to the fact that he was covered in blood or that he had just eaten human flesh, flexible morals. He just analyzed Josh's bruises and turned his head to check the concussion, being kinder than anyone who became what he was now should be possible when he bended the steel from the restraints and pulled them out of Josh's arms, tearing off the collar too since this was probably one of the things that annoyed him most in his friend's current view. Josh belonged to Eli as well as the mall, no one was allowed to do that to him just as no one could destroy his mall.

Slipping one arm behind his back and the other behind Josh's knees, he easily lifted and settled him in his arms, because of his height, his forehead resting on the back of Eli's neck and his arms stopping on his chest. Rising, Eli turned his back on Sam and was about to start down when he heard her voice "What are you?" she questioned and he didn't even bother to look at her when he answered.

"I'm Eli fucking Cardashyan, Sammy, but better than ever" he walked down the stairs and sincerely loved to see the effect his gaze had on the same idiots who fucked with him and his things before, shitting their pants in sheer terror. How fucking awesome it was to have power.

As he passed the American Ninja Idol stage and distanced himself from the structure, the ghoulies resumed acting as themselves and writhed over the fence desperately to escape and eat the bodies of the two dead jocks as Eli walked toward his motorcycle and their meeting point where his favorite gay samurai and his dog should be waiting for him. But as he walked, Eli noticed Josh struggle to wake up and fidget in his arms, probably thinking that he was a fucking teddy bear because he soon felt long arms wrapping around his neck as his friend settled into his chest, what could have made Eli smile. But when he smelled the effects of the concussion on Josh's body and brain, Eli moved faster in the moment that his friend passed out again.

Approaching the tree on which his motorcycle was leaning, he saw Wesley and Turbo step out of the shadows and run toward him, Wes immediately hovering over Josh as soon as he stopped. "Why are you soaked with fucking blood, man?" he looked a little scared but certainly more concerned about Josh. 

"It's not mine, loser" that was the only thing he could say, after all, he didn't want Wesley to freak out and it wasn't as if he could just say something like this to him, Hey, I just devoured a few pieces of two people and drank their blood, what was one of the best experiences of my fucking life. Please don't lose your shit and try to kill me.

When he looked at him, he could see that these words wasn't enough for him and Wes wanted to ask more questions, but he seemed too worried to give a fuck about it so he got close to Eli to take his friend "Okay, whatever, we have to go. Let me carry him" but the moment he tried to touch Josh, Eli pulled away and soon saw Wesley's confused and angry look as he did so.

"So besides being an idiot, are you stupid too? He has a concussion, asshole, which means he has to get to the mall as soon as possible before the ghoulies come to devour his pretty little head and the only person who has a fucking motorcycle here is me. And I'm not lending it to you so I'm your best option to take Josh safely" he explained and tightened his arms around Josh, feeling Wesley's anger and how Turbo reacted to it starting to be nervous too but the smarter of the duo knew he was right. And he couldn't do shit about it.

"Fuck! Okay, Eli, but I think it's good for you that he's fucking the same as when he left here in the moment we get there to see him or I swear that I'll…" he threatened and pointed a finger at Eli, who interrupted him before he had to hear the same shit twice. "I know I know. You will finish me, completely. Now can I get on my bike and get your dear friend out of here or not?" he asked sarcastically and passed them without waiting for an answer. 

Sitting on his baby's rump, he manipulated Josh's limbs and sat him in front of him with his back against his chest, while his head hung back on his shoulder. Which could have been a mistake since the scent of blood was stronger but Eli knew he could control himself even being so tempted. 

Unfair. He looks delicious.

Well, we don't always get everything we want. I've eaten two people to you so stop being greedy.

Turning on his motorcycle, Eli drove quickly to the mall, taking some minutes to get there and parking in front of one of the few entrances only he knew, but if Wesley and Turbo came running and managed to avoid the ghoulies, he wouldn't have too much time to realize his plan.

But now it was the time.

Eli walked through the mall's main revolving door and soon saw Angelica and Mr Crumble waiting for him, the dwarf having a murderer look on her face as she approached him already screaming "Where's Josh? Where's Wesley and Turbo and why is there blood on your clothes? This is their blood, right?! You betrayed them, asshole. I knew we couldn't trust you. I knew, you son of a bitch" she tried to hit him and then pick up her flamethrower but Eli grabbed her arm at the same time as Mr Crumble growled.

"Hey, calm down, dwarf. This blood is not theirs and as for Wesley and Turbo, they are coming with Josh and" he stopped and looked at his Patek wristwatch "will probably be here in ten minutes. So, relax girl!" he grinned and patted her head before releasing her arm and backing a little as Mr Crumble put her hands on her shoulder. 

"Do you really think I'm gonna believe in any fucking word you said? I'm not stupid, prick, so I think you better start telling the truth or I'll fucking fry you" she accused and threatened before shooting Eli with her murderous look again, and honestly it wasn't good that he was getting used to it. 

"Well, I'm sorry if you don't believe me but it's the truth! Josh has a concussion and to distract the ghoulies, I came first and diverted them from the path here. And why would I be a fucking bait? Because Wesley doesn't trust me with Josh and Turbo is a supportive boyfriend but not a patient one, so I came here risking my beautiful little neck to tell you to arrange the things to receive your idiot friend, so he won't get worse and you losers will accomplish your part of the deal" the lie came out of his mouth easily, and Eli certainly deserved a fucking Oscar for being able to keep his serious face while Angelica analyzed him with those judgmental eyes.

"You are a megalomaniacal liar, narcissistic and selfish dick that only cares about yourself! So, yes! It's hard to believe in anything that you just said" she cursed him and he rolled his eyes at that, of course he didn't expect her to trust him. 

"I can be everything you said and I'm proud of it, shorty, but if you don't believe my words, then let's wait for them" he shrugged and grinned, walking over to what was once a coffee shop chair and sitting on it before patting the seat next to him. 

"I have all the time in the world since this area is part of my section and to prove to you the shit of being a bait just to help your stupid friends, we'll wait for them here. Or are you afraid of being wrong?" he challenged as he leaned back in his chair, his lips curving upward as he caught a glimpse of Angelica sitting along with Mr Crumble in two seats a few feet away from him. "Okay, you degenerate motherfucker, but if this is a lie I'll turn you to ashes" she threatened one last time before turning to the witch and starting talking to her.

Crossing his arms, now all Eli had to do was wait and expect that the suckers for once would act like fucking normal people act. Soon, he would have Josh only for him and they wouldn't be able to stop him.

They spent a few minutes sitting and waiting, meanwhile the blood on Eli's clothes was becoming sticky and fucking gross. He had realized that the blood of the assholes he ate had a horrible smell, like rotten food, and all he wanted now was to take a shower and get it off his beautiful body. But why was it that when two of the best jocks in school had to run fast, they decided to act like fucking slugs?

Finally, he heard the mall alarm and smiled with it, watching Angelica and the witch run toward their section of the mall, where the alarm sound came from. He put his hands in his pocket, and began whistling as he walked and followed the losers, leaning back against the pillar of a store right on the boundary between his section and theirs, he waited to see what would happen the moment Angelica let Mr Crumble behind and standed in front of the store where they had installed Josh's room a few feet away from him, soon seeing Wesley and Turbo that he could smell besides the corner. 

They approached and Eli could hear everything from where he was, as if he were sitting in the front row of the theater watching the final stretch of a good movie "Where's Josh? Weren't you guys with him?" Angelica screamed more than asked, concerning clear in her voice as her words caused his favorite gay to frown.

"What the hell are you talking about, Angelica? No, Eli brought him here on his motorcycle. Is he not already with you?" he questioned as it was obvious he was trying to stay calm, running his hand over his hair in momentaneous confusion.

And it was at that moment when they looked at each other and turned to face Eli with anger shining in their eyes, that he saw that they had finally realized the trap they had fallen into. But it was too late because all he had to do as they ran toward him, was take the control of his pocket and push the button to finally divide his sections from theirs, waving and smiling as they slammed their bodies against the metal gate already closed.

"Eli! You liar son of a bitch, bastard motherfucker! I knew you were lying. We shouldn't have gave you a chance…"

"Eli! I warned you what would happen if you fooled us. I trusted you…"

They both cursed and banged their fists on the gate at the same time, causing his eyes to roll as he said. "Hey, hey, hey! One at a time, suckers, I can't hear your crying and appreciate it if you whine together" he mocked.

"Ahhh!! I will kill you! I'll toast you, Eli, and no one will miss your asshole face!" Angelica clung to the metal gate grate and Eli moved closer to her, keeping a little distance. 

"Would you risk it now that I have Josh, dwarf?!" he asked sarcastically and watched the effect it had on them. Their expressions became immediately scared and worried as he had fun with it. The good old bluff would always be useful, but today he wasn't in the mood for that.

"Where is he, Eli?" Wesley asked in his quiet voice, obviously calmer but not so much as Eli could see a drop of sweat running down his face.

"Josh is alive" he said with a shrug and turned to face him "Don't worry about him" he winked at him before he started backing away.

"No, c'mon man, you already got what you wanted, okay? You don't need Josh. If you want we'll even leave the malls as long as you give him back to us" Wesley tried to negotiate, his tone almost begging and Eli knew how humiliating it must be for him but there was no shit as going back now.

"You don't get it, do you?" he said and shook his head, Eli looked into Wesley's eyes as he continued "Now, and only now not when you gave me back part of my own mall, I got what I fucking wanted since the beginning" 

Smiling satisfactorily and walking away, Eli turned his back on them, ignoring the curses and calls to his name before saying goodbye "Bye, bye, suckers. I have something to take care of" he waved at them and went his way.

Eli calmly crossed his sections until he reached the safest spot in that mall, where by his abilities to perform, Hollywood lost him if it was still there, all his and Josh's things were there as well as everything he would probably need. He stepped into what should have been a major security office company before, the idiots who worked here would lose their shit if they were still alive and saw that someone like him would have the whole place to himself as well as the mall, he thought as he passed the chairs and tables around him to reach the elevator.

Climbing to the second floor, Eli stepped out of the elevator and passed through the smaller offices until he reached the largest one, which had the size of a store in his mall. The boss of this place should be one of those white, slack, capitalist whores who did what they wanted before, summing it up, like a certain president. Eli opened the large door and passed it, closing it as he walked into his office and watched his surroundings. The windows were open but the curtains prevented the view from outside, on either side of the door had sofas while in front of them were small tables, one with food, blankets, pillows and clothes on top and the other with medical supplies and medicines that didn't need temperature control.

Where once there was a table, now had a large bed in the middle of the room with a massage chair on either side and two mini-fridges in the opposite corners. Inside the left one were some drinks and water bottles while on the right one were needles, medicines that needed refrigeration and blood bags that had no effect on Eli. 

Taking off his clothes, Eli put them near the door and planned to burn them afterwards since the smell of rotten blood had already permeated. He put on a dark green shirt and black jeans, his attention quickly shifting to the person lying in bed when he heard a voice from there. "Eli? Is that you?" Josh had a medical bandage around his head since Eli had already cleaned his wound, his head was propped against two pillows as his clothes were changed to a sweatshirt and sweatpants with a blanket covering his body until above his waist. 

"Hey, sleeping beauty" he said without malice as he approached the right side of the bed, sitting in the massage chair.

"I don't get it. I don't get it, Eli"  he said in a heavy, sleepy voice as he moved his arms wildly and tried to get up, the concussion clearly leaving him unable to do so. 

"Shhh! It's alright, Josh. I'm here, you can sleep" he grinned and put his hand on his friend's chest to keep him from moving and to calm him down. Which seemed to have an effect as he leaned back against the pillows again.

"No, I can't. You won't be here" he said even more tired, trying to keep his eyes open. "I said I was going back. I'm not going away again" he stated and saw that Josh wanted to say something else but his eyes were already closing. The only thing he could do before his breath slowed was to hold Eli's hand as Eli whispered next to his ear, his mind too far away to understand what he said.

"I will always be here, Josh, and you will always be mine"

#daybreak netflix #netflix daybreak #josh wheeler #colin ford #sam dean #sophie simnett #wesley fists #austin crute #eli cardashyan #greg kasyan #angelica green #alyvia alyn lind #turbo pokaski #submission

[benjikarofsky]

The Gloves Come Off || Para

WHO: Benji Karofsky (@benjikarofsky), Aaron Hummel ( @ghoulishboyhummel), Kurt Hummel ( @gleedalekurt ), and Sebastian Smythe ( @northsidesmythe ).

WHERE: Fox Forest

WHEN: 3rd June 2019

NOTES: With tensions still running high, Benji meets Kurt to finish the fight they’ve started. Thankfully, Aaron and Sebastian aren’t too far behind.

TRIGGERS: Minor character death, violence, ‘blink-and-you’ll-miss-it’ mentions of the following: cuts, blood, knives, micro homophobia

BOLD: Benji

ITALIC: Kurt

NORMAL: Aaron

NORMAL: Sebastian

WORD COUNT: 3003

Kurt hadn't moved from his spot on the edge of Fox Forest and he was full of adrenaline from his argument with Benji. He got out the car and slammed his door, kicking his wheel and leaning against the hood of the car, "Jumped up little twat" he spat out, talking to no one.

“...Talking to me, Kurtie?” Benji called with a smirk, walking up to him, longboard in hand. He stopped a few inches from Kurt, threw down his board, and crossed his arms. “We don’t have to do this, y’know,” he chided, getting into his face. “All you have to is agree to leave me the fuck alone. Do that, and I won’t give Doc another patient.”

Kurt rolled his neck as he heard Benji speaking and turned to face him, crossing his arms in front of him, "About you" he confirmed, "Aww, does Benji not want to dance any more?" he said, a smirk on his face, "Shouldn't be surprised... Maybe it was a fluke against Aaron".

"Unlike you, I have empathy. Figured you'd been through enough without an ass-kicking. Figured you actually wanted to resolve this stupid little spat. But, obviously I was wrong." He stared straight at Kurt and smiled. "Go ahead, Hummel. I'll even give you the first swing. Let's see if your sociopath of a brother was a fluke or not."

Kurt scoffed and stepped forward, "How courteous" he breathed out, as he got closer to the other man, "But I got a feeling that was a bad move" and he stopped, bringing his fist around and swinging it directly at Benji's cheek.

Benji rolled his eyes and ducked, sweeping at one of Kurt's legs as he did. "You saw what happened to your Monster of a brother last time, right?" he questioned, standing back up. "Like, are you serious here? At least he had a knife."

Kurt landed on his back as his leg swept from under him and he shook his head, "He. Is. Not. A. Monster" Kurt said, bringing himself back to his feet, "I don't need weapons. I know how to fight fair" and with that, he aimed his next punch at Benji's stomach.

Benji took the punch with a groan, but only so he could grab Kurt's outstretched arm with both hands once it had connected. He gripped his arm and threw Kurt's body away from him, aiming towards the ground again. "He's a fucking monster and you are too. Don't make me actually hurt you, Hummel."

Kurt groaned as he hit the floor again but he scoffed, "Don't make me laugh Karofsky" he spat out, standing once more, dusting the dirt from his hands, "And don't call us monsters" this time he aimed a swift kick at Benji's kneecap.

Benji didn't respond, focusing so he could move aside quickly enough to doge the kick. He wound up and threw a left hook, aiming square for Kurt's face.

Kurt couldn't move fast enough and felt the punch connect with his cheek, making him stumble backwards as he brought a hand up to his cheek, "Fucking ass" he breathed out, taking a moment to get his balance, "Best you got?" he spat out

"You tell me," Benji replied, roundhouse kicking twice towards Kurt's stomach.

The kicks made Kurt feel a bit sick as they hit him and he doubled over, clutching his stomach, "Fuck" he hissed out, stumbling forward. As he got within arm's reach of Benji, he straightened up as best he could and aimed a full power punch at Benji's cheek.

"Stay down, Hummel," Benji spat, blocking Kurt's punch with his right arm and throwing another hook at Kurt's face with his left hand.

Kurt was about to retort when he felt the next punch hit his cheek and he felt the warm feeling of blood on his cheek, "Or what Karofsky? Scared you'll become the monster next huh?"

Benji threw two punches, aimed straight for Kurt's stomach, in response. "Don't try to fucking project, Hummel. I'm not walking around with serial killer blood in my veins."

With each punch, Kurt stumbled backwards until he was close to his car, "You are the monster, you just don't see it" he spat, using what energy he had left to swing at Benji once more, desperate to cause a little more harm.

Benji let the punch hit his raised arm and hissed as it connected before grabbing Kurt's hand. Not letting go, he picked Kurt up and pinned him to the hood of his car, keeping him in place with his knee on Kurt's stomach. "You've got a thirst for blood that exceeds your ability to fight, yet I'm the monster. Sure, Hummel. " 

He repositioned the way he was holding Kurt's hand and stared at him. "Burt would be disappointed, by the way. Should've used a knife like he does. ...Tell me you'll leave me alone, Hummel or I'm breaking your fucking arm," Benji threatened, winding back Kurt's hand.

Kurt was moved with ease, his torso aching, his cheek bleeding and the other starting to swell but he scoffed, "I don't have bloodlust, I'm not the one who got trained to kill". When he felt the hold on his arm change, he groaned in pain, "Do it" he dared the boy, "Prove to everyone who the absolute monster is. I dare you Benji".

"Newsflash, Hummel. All I wanted to do was ballet. Paul made me get trained. Thought it was too 'gay' by itself." He rolled his eyes, "You Hummels sure do know how to pass the buck, don't you? You're not even worth a broken arm." 

He twisted Kurt's arm as far as it could go and kept it there, pinning his head to the hood of the car with his other hand. "All the pain and none of the battle scars. Figured you already had enough."

Kurt wanted to retort but the twist to his arm made him feel sicker and the pain from the knee to his stomach was not helping. He moaned in the pain, "You fucking idiot" he hissed out, his head pressed against the metal of the car, "Fuck" he said as he felt his body start to cave from the pain.

After picking Sebastian up from his house, Aaron drove straight to Fox Forest to find Kurt. And seeing his car was a good sign, until he drover closer and could see...was that fucking Benji? "Fucking hell." He muttered, and almost didn't let his motorcycle stop all the way before getting off and moving to get Benji off of Kurt, presumably with Sebastian behind him, since he wasn't actually looking back at his friend right now.

Sebastian held onto the bike as best as he could, since Aaron was driving the bike like a bat out of hell. And he couldn't blame him. With how bad Kurt seemed to have taken the recent news, who knew which crazy thing he would end up doing; and soon after he got his answer, when he narrowed his eyes and focused ahead, and saw Kurt and Benji, going fully at it. He barely got to jumpo out of the bike before Aaron practically let it fall to the ground, then ran after him to where the car was and was able to catch Kurt from hitting the floor too harshly, holding him up in his arms. "Ben, what the fuck are you doing, man?"

Benji blinked, raising his arms up in surrender. "...He wouldn't leave me alone. I told him not to fight me..." was all the explanation he had, shaking his head. He never wanted anyone else besides the Hummels to see him like this, but that was out of his control now. "He wouldn't leave me alone," he babbled, finally starting to snap out of his rage, "my mom fucking died and he still wouldn't just leave me alone..."

When Aaron pulled Benji off him, he dropped and if it hadn’t been for Sebastian catching him, he would have hit the deck hard. His cheek was still bleeding, his other cheek already bruising but it was the torso which hurt the most, that and his arm, “He calls us the monster” he breathed out, “But really it’s been him all along” he said. He didn’t know why but it was then he turned his body into Sebastian’s hold and quietly whispered, so neither of the others would hear, “Thanks boss”.

Once Benji raised his arms up and started talking, he turned to Kurt. "What the fuck were you thinking?" Aaron couldn't even believe his brother would have done something so stupid as fight Benji right now. "You saw what he did to me and I had a fucking knife! He completely kicked my ass and you thought it wouldn't end the same for you?"

Sebastian quickly pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and placed it over Kurt's bleeding cheek. "No problem. But your brother is right. Couldn't you just walk away from all this? You think you're the only one in pain, that you had to go and get down with the one person in town who is definitely suffering the same? " He then looked up at Ben. "And you too. Couldn't just let him talk and walk away? You're also a hothead, kid." He scoffed. "You both are."

"I tried," Benji stressed, "I told him if he just agreed to leave me alone, we'd be even. I told him that too," he gestured his head towards Aaron, "but he wouldn't go for it... All I want is for him to not talk about me and leave me alone. Just like I've been doing to him. Especially right now."

Kurt rolled his eyes, frustrated at being told of by both of the men, "I'm not apologizing" he said simply, holding his stomach and looking up at Aaron, "You don't get to ask me what I was thinking when you know you would have done the same if he hasn't already kicked your ass". He looked back at Sebastian, "Pride. Pride and making him realise that he isn't the only person suffering right now". Then he looked back to Benji, "You came here to me. If you really wanted to be left alone, you could have stayed at home"

With him saying that he would’ve done the same, Aaron pushed his hair back and gripped it. “I really wouldn’t have! Not now, not over this.” He took deep breaths to try and calm himself down, “Benji’s right, he did tell me that nothing would happen if you just left him alone and stupid me thought you would! When did you decide to take a page out of my book of irrational anger?” Aaron really didn’t know what to do here, he was just feeling really pissed that Kurt went to fight him. “He lost his mom, you of all people should know how fucked emotions get about that. She left or whatever happened and then instead of coming back, she ended up dead. And currently, our dad is the main suspect so of fucking course he’s angry! Of fucking course you’re angry but instead of leaving each other alone you did this shit!”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at Kurt. "Pride? Seriously, Hummel? How does your pride feel right now that you got your ass kicked, huh? I bet not too good." He put Kurt back with his feet on the ground, then shook his head. "Your brother is right. You are both going through some very difficult shit right now, and you think the proper way to blow all that steam out is to punch each other? How about you go to the gym and punch a pear bag instead?" He sighed. "I thought you were done going out looking for trouble, Kurt. If this is just about your stupid pride, then it's just a lost cause." He looked at Aaron. "We should take these two to the hospital to get checked out, don't you think?"

Benji looked down. He still didn't feel completely in the wrong, but there was no point in arguing because there was truth to what they were saying--he should've just did his best to ignore Kurt and let him have his freakout on his own. "I don't need a hospital. I'm not that hurt," he admitted. A punch to the stomach was essentially the only shot Kurt managed to get on him. 

"I just need someone to drive me home so I don't have to longboard back. That's it." He bit his lip, then finally looked up, turning his gaze to Kurt. "And even though you're not gonna apologize: I... I'm sorry for my part of this, Kurt."

Kurt nodded, "Sure, I'm sorry too but I'm not in the mood right now". He stumbled around to the drivers seat of his car but stopped before he got in, "Aaron, you went to a fight with him over drugs. I didn't come to this fight, I was already here taking some time out so you can fuck off with your high and mighty act right now". 

He looked at Sebastian and shook his head, "I don't need a hospital". He knew it was probably best to get checked out, but he didn't want to. He turned back to his car, "Don't come looking for me" he growled at Aaron before stumbling into his car and locking the door, pulling out of his spot, no intention of going home.

Aaron shook his head to answer Sebastian’s question before he even heard Kurt talking, “No, they’re fine.” He was in worse shape after his own fight with Benji and didn’t need the hospital. Registering everything his brother said, he just shook his head, “Whatever, Kurt.” He wasn’t going to look for him, not when he was so pissed about this. After Kurt got in his car, he looked over at Benji, “I’d give you a ride but I took Seb over on my bike and I don’t think you can carry a longboard on it without falling off.”

Sebastian raised both hands up when it became clear Kurt didn't want any of their asistance anymore.  He grunted and shook his head, seeing just how proud and stubborn Kurt was being about the whole thing. Seeing that was obvious that no progress would be made that night he stepped away from Kurt and let him get in his car.  If he didn't want any help it was his business. "You know what? It's fine. You should take Benji home. I'll walk back. I know these roads like the back of my hand. I'll be fine." He made a somewhat fake militar salute and turned around before he walked away. "Au revoir , gentlemen."

Benji was not expecting Sebastian to decide to walk back on his own. His gaze shot to Aaron. The last thing he wanted was to take any favor from him, but Kurt had punched him square in his stomach and as the adrenaline began to wear off, his stomach started to sting. He was a fair distance from his apartment right now and he couldn't guarantee he could make it all the way home on a board before the pain became too much. 

"My longboard has straps. I'm not gonna be carrying it," he said, looking down; he really didn't want to do this, but he didn't have much of a choice. "...please?" he whispered reluctantly.

Aaron listened to Sebastian say it was okay, “Be careful, Seb.” He called after him, now left with Benji. Which was definitely not what he was expecting to happen, but he nodded, trying to fight back the smirk that wanted to appear when he heard the ‘please’. “Yeah, not going to just leave you here. Even monsters can be human once in a while.” That was something he said after apologizing, but it seemed more like a joke at this point. “And I’m actually just a little bit more pissed at Kurt right now than you.”

"Okay.... thank you", Benji responded, shifting awkwardly as he knelt down to put the straps on his longboard and place it on his back. He didn't really know what else to say to Aaron during all this--the two of them never really seemed to get along, yet they kept finding themselves in situations like this where they ended up helping each other. The scenario was too complex for Benji to understand. "...I'm ready."

Aaron picked up his motorcycle from when he hopped off and started it, driving only when Benji said he was ready. It wasn’t a bad drive, just ignoring the weird part of Benji being the one that he’s driving for. When they got to his apartment he stopped, “I’m sorry about your mom, by the way. Mine weren’t killed but I have technically lost two so, I get it.” He told him, deciding to try to offer sympathy for once.

"Thanks. ...And thanks for the ride home too," Benji replied as he got off the bike. He started to walk up the steps, but paused at the front door and turned around. "...I'm sorry I made Kurt run off. I can tell it hurts you when things happen to him. ...You're a little less of a complete lost cause than I give you credit for." He dug his key out of his pocket, then turned to open the apartment front door giving a quiet, "G'night Aaron," as he walked inside.

He was just going to nod and leave, but the comment about Kurt made him reply instead, “It does, Kurt means the world to me. But this was his fault too, I can’t stick up for him as much as I’d like this time. Thanks, though, being less of a complete lost cause is nice.” He dropped his hand to his side, not commenting on actually getting his name from him for once and instead just saying, “Night, Benji.” right back and driving home soon after.

#para #para20 #aaron #sebastian #kurt

[sophisticateddesign]

Lies and Lunch.

INVOLVED:  Mercedes Jones and Titus Wilkerson  LOCATION: Lenox Mall; Atlanta, GA. TIME FRAME: Saturday NOTES: Mercedes fails to find maternity clothes. AUTHOR’S NOTE: n/a

You could call Buckhead the center of Atlanta.  You may or may not be right about that.  But whatever you believed, one look and you will know beyond a shadow of a doubt, there was money here.  If you were to live in the black Mecca of the south and be privileged enough to be a person means, Buckhead was where you wanted to be. Truth be told, Buckhead was north of the city proper. Right before you left for all points North; Marietta, Cobb county, Alpharetta. That was where the real money was. Where the white elite dug in just off Johnson’s Ferry road.  Where if you went just over the river and you found that one little secluded road. The one behind the Mc’mansions that all sat on a golf course. You’d find the estate of Ludicrous himself.  

Like all the burrows in the city, Buckhead had its own shopping center, Lenox Mall.  A lavish white shelled mall, boned in cremes and marble floors, that housed over 200 stores and eateries.  That’s where Mercedes and Titus were. Mercedes toted a osingle small black bag from Mac. Her eyes scanned every window display they passed. Mentally giving them either her stamp of approval or her frown of rejection. Titus, on the other hand, was studying young hot ass, either smiling or sometimes waving at the ones who caught him gazing at them in approval.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm!” Titus exclaimed, as his head twisted on his neck following one man’s ass like it was a mouse and he was a hungry owl. “She has to know that man is gay.” He said, hand clutching at his heart.

Mercedes sighed, her hazel eyes unable to hide her annoyance. “You sir. don’t know that man’s life.” She said, in a fruitless attempt at challenging his gaydar as they passed Louis Vuitton.  The window display was outlandish, with thirty-six cameras all pointed at 2 lone handbags. Mercedes came to a full stop to marvel at the uniqueness of the display. “I think I really want a Lou baby bag.” She said dropping more than a hint at her shopping companion.

“First of all, I might not know his life, but I know where he was two days ago.” Titus gloated, “Second, your bad and boujee ass should buy it.” He caught her hint and threw it right back at her. “if you want. Because I already know what I’m getting my Godchild.  It’s called a baby shower.  I’m not buying anything for your ass.”

One hand went to Mercedes hip a look of mock shock on her face. “That man was too young for you.  I.. I’m speechless.” She said in a voice dripping with admiration. Titus was five years older than her, but managed to act, on most occasions, 20 years younger. At his next return Mercedes rolled her neck, and cut her eyes at him severely, walking off. Her hips swaying from side to side as she continued on her quest for maternity clothes. Only a pinch saltier then she was a second ago.  “We are supposed to be finding me a new wardrobe. I’m already using a rubber band to hold these pants up.  I brought my clothes to accentuate my ass and my waist trainer to ensure my stomach wasn’t a factor.” She said lifting her bag, “yet, all I have managed to get are foundation refills.”

“He too old for me to date. What we were doing, I wouldn’t consider dating.” Titus said, throwing his scarf up around his neck. He rushed forward to catch the surprisingly quick woman, which wasn’t hard considering how short her legs were.  He gave her a sharp pat on the ass. “You know Lenox on a Saturday afternoon is for seeing and being seen.”

 Mercedes gave him a questioning look, “Who made that a thing?”

 “Everyone!” Titus said, taking a quick step away from her. “Well everyone whose head hasn’t been stuck in a hole. In the past few hours, your ass has been the star of its own one man show. A show that you have been completely oblivious of...” Titus said shaking his head.

“I have bigger things to worry about then what random men want to jump my bones.”  Mercedes said reciting a well-practiced line.

Titus rolled his neck and repeated her words verbatim, adding a bored inflection to scorn her. “You have had tunnel vision since before that baby was thing.” He said eyeing her hidden belly.  “It was all about taking care of your mother, sister and the kids.  And now that they are gone, before you even attempt to find a person to love you.  You go and create a whole new person by yourself.” He said annoyed.

He had a point, not that she was going to admit that to him. “You act as if I've never dated. As if I never tried.” Mercedes argued. “Need I remind you of John, Trevon, Jordan, Bobby…” she said with her lips curling into a hateful snarl.

Titus held his hand up silencing the woman.  “I will admit you had some bad luck. But… there were some good ones. Mercedes there will be good guys in your future if I have to find them for you myself.  Don't think for a second that this child is going to stop me. If Michael and I can find our bliss.  I know damn well you can.” He finished wrapping his arm around the woman's shoulder and hugging her close to his side. “That is another promise I made your mother.”

Mercedes laughed and shook her head, “Adding my mother to this doesn't mean anything you know.” She lied trying to sound in control of her emotions.  

Titus’ laughter bounced off the walls and echoed all around them drawing a number of pompous eyes their way.  “Now we both know that’s a whole lie. You are to much. Anyway, changing the subject.” He said taking a handkerchief from his pocket with a flourish, dramatically dabbing at his forehead.

Mercedes jumped into the gap.  “You can change the subject after you feed me.” She said patting her stomach.  “I am starving.”  

~30 minutes later ~

The shrimp flipped end over end into the air before hitting the grill top, where it sizzled. Mercedes smiled at the little trick.  A faint sigh left her lips as the chef continue to cook. “I wanted food not a show.” She grumbled just loud enough for Titus to hear her over the clink of the spatula dicing through the chicken on the grill.

“It must be nice to be a beggar and a chooser.’ Titus muse tossing imagined hair back over his shoulder. “Anyway…” He said in exaggerated tones.  “Tell me about him...  I know you had a few meetings, dinner and when to the doctor with him.  But outside of he seems nice.  You haven’t said anything of real import.“

 Mercedes shrugged. She held that posture for a moment, then let her shoulders fall. “There isn’t much to tell.” She said easily.  “He seems nice. Owns his own business. Is smart, and reasonably caring.” She rattled off trying to deflect. She sat back a little in her seat as the chef began plating their food. “He’s basically everything I wanted in a donor.  I’m lucky.” She finished, whispering thank you to the chef.

Titus listened, his face disapproving. “Mhm…” He said, completely unimpressed by the scant information the woman just offered him. “That’s a relief. I suppose.”  He said as his own plate was filled.  “I could run a complete background check on him if you’d like.  Just so we know what you’re dealing with.”

Mercedes shook her head, “No need.  I’ve already had it done.” She smiled,  “He is completely on the up and up.  Good family, nice home…” She trailed off taking a huge bite of chicken and rice into her mouth. She closed her eyes and almost came off how delicious it was.  Sighing around the mouthful she chewed, smacking her lips a bit before taking another bite

“Even better.” Titus commented with a nod. He waited for a long moment, adding soy sauce to the dish in front of him. He glanced over at Mercedes who had already began to eat, then sat the bottle down with a hard clink on the wood.  “You make me sick.  You are really going to make me wild horse your ass Mercedes Jones? Is the man potential or not.  For heaven sakes.” He fussed, turning the chicken, rice and shrimp over with his fork. “Here I am trying to marry your stubborn ass off and your holding out. The man owns a business, wants to be a daddy and has a house… Is he at least cute, woman? And young enough not to need dentures?”

Mercedes laughed around her mouthful, fully aware of how annoying she was being. She placed her hand in front of her mouth trying not to spit any food out of her lips.  “I’m sorry. You are just too easy.” She said tucking her lips in to her mouth to let her laughter die away before she answered his question. “He’s okay.” She said trying to seem unimpressed by the man. Which even now was hard as the thought of his towering figure and massive arms caused a slight flush to run up her neck. “And no, he’s not an old man.”

Titus beamed doing a little shimmy with his shoulders, “Looks aren’t everything. If he’s not your granddaddy we may have a prospect.”

Mercedes touched his arm quieting the man. She shaking her head no, “He is not my type. And besides that, he’s white.  You know how they love their stick figures.” She said as if the matter was closed. She shrugged again and went back to her food.  “But he’ll make a good co-parent.” She said twisting her lips up in thought. Their argument? Still bothered her.  She didn’t really know what to say.  Or for that matter why the idea of him being impotent even bother her at all.  She slumped a bit her mind working feverishly against what she deep down already knew. She had a crush on her baby’s daddy.    

Titus’ shoulder slumped, “Damn!” He said once she laid out the facts. “I could forgive him being white if he was hot but a regular degular white guy is unacceptable.  They often appreciate curves but only with the lights low.”  He sucked his teeth, then settled in and started eating.  He glanced at Mercedes noting that faraway look she always got whenever she was mulling something over, be it what color drapes to buy or when to dump a man. No matter what the look was always the same. “What’s that look about?

Mercedes sighed, “Nothing.” She said, “Tell me how David is doing?  I can’t believe he’s almost 18. You have to get him to tell you what he wants for graduation.”

Titus rolled his eyes, “What most teenage boys want. Tickets to the playboy mansion.” He said shaking his head, “I swear he tries to be super hetero- as a way to spite me. But you!” He snapped, “Stop changing the subject. What’s the matter with you?”

Mercedes giggled, but didn’t miss adding more food to her mouth. “Change.”  She said as if the word meant anything. “Changing and dealing with another person.  It’s trying.”

Titus squinted, “Tell me something I don’t know.” He sighed, “Wait…” His face contoured. “What is this about?”

“We, the baby’s daddy and I...“ Mercedes shook her head and took a bite of steamed cabbage.  “Let’s just say it’s hard getting to know people. Somethings were disclosed, and it’s made our interactions a little awkward.”

Titus laughed, “Your whole situation is awkward. And that’s what your ass gets.  Miss I’m going to make a test tube baby.” He said loudly, “Suck it up. And find a way through.” He said knowing full well how is friend operated. “That bundle of joy is coming and try as you might it isn’t going to get any easier. Hell, it’s not like you want to fuck him.” He said eating happily.

#Thread #Thread: Mercedes Jones #Thread: Titus Wilkerson #tHread: Lunch and Lies