#silly little gay drug lord | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunray-222 · 5 months

Text

Angel Baby. | M.S

pairing : matt sturniolo x y/n

summary: in which matt and his brothers are a pretty big deal in a small town. y/n, who is the daughter of a school teacher and a fireman has never understood the hype around those sturniolo boys anyways. however, when matt takes her home to save her from pouring rain, she decides to give him a chance.

warnings: kind of suggestive? mostly fluff, cursing, no fame!au

i just loved this idea. 🫶🏻

————————————————————————

“oh y/n,” you hear your best friend madeline giggle down the hallway. “hi madeline,” you smile closing the locker and holding the books to your chest. “you’ll never guess who wants to take me on a date tonight!” her smile was something similar to the cheshire cat, and all you could think was ‘oh brother.’ however, being the good friend you are, you entertained her.

“oh do tell madi, i think i might die if i don’t know!” you say, sarcasm dripping from your words. her face stern, as she shoved your shoulder a bit. “christopher sturniolo!” her tone raised a bit, as she jumped up and down from excitement. “good lord madeline, i thought it was serious.” you huff, drawing your free hand to your forehead, shaking your head at her over exaggerating.

her jaw could’ve hit the floor from how agape it was, and the gasp she let out was surely for the dramatics, “y/n, my dear, my baby, it is serious! do you not understand how important him and his brothers are?” the and being dragged out far too long. “oh i know. i also know they’re raging assholes madi, i also know christopher’s track record. i support you completely, i just don’t think getting mixed up with those tools is a good idea.” you shrugged.

and in all honesty, you did support her. hell maybe you were even a little jealous of her. getting asked out by one of the most popular guys in school. but there was a reason they were popular, and it wasn’t good. they were rude, loud, obnoxious, and all in all wouldn’t do you any favors.

your one goal : make it out of this small, tiny, close minded town. maybe make it far, somewhere like new york or los angeles. near or far, your plan certainly was not to fall for a sturniolo’s meaningless words, and wind up stuck here.

after all, they were just high school boys. and high school boys are what the devil sends when he can’t reach you himself.

that school day drug on, madeline filling in everyone the each of you knew about her little plans with christopher after school. it was a little unbearable as you made your way to your locker.

as you stood there, sorting through your science and algebra books, you hear a voice clear their throat.

as quickly as the door shut, you realized it was one of the triplets. “i’m sorry, i really can’t tell the difference…which one are you?” you lied. of course you knew it was matt, it’s like everyone there could tell the difference between the three. but you being you, refused to give him the satisfaction.

“my apologies ma’am,” he smirked. “i’m matt, you’re uh… you’re y/n, friends with the girl my little brothers taking out?”

“little brother? i thought you three were all the same age?” you giggled, only half teasing. “i’m older by some minutes. answer the question, you and madeline friends?” his smile was charming, it was now you understood why all the girls chased after him.. never earning a chance though.

that was the thing about the brothers. nick was openly gay, chris would date just about any girl at that high school, and the crowd of girls not swarming chris? they followed matt like a lost puppy. he’d flirt, but he’d never take any of them serious.

“oh yeah, me and madeline are best friends.” you nodded up to the boy, starting to walk past him. he took a few short steps, quickly catching up within seconds. “well.. im kind of chris’s ride everywhere… you mind giving me madeline’s address? so i can pick her up for their date,” he seemed… nervous? oh don’t be silly y/n you thought to yourself he’d never be nervous to talk to you, every girl here practically throws herself at him.

“matt, why don’t you ask madeline yourself?” you ask, stopping at the door before your math class. “oh come on, y/n there’s one more class of the day, please tell me.” his tone was whiny like a child, and you couldn’t fight the giggle at him. quickly, you pulled a piece of paper from your notebook, he provided you a pen.

“christopher told her 6pm,” you explained, jotting down the last bit of her address “don’t be late.” you sighed, handing him the paper. “only because you were so kind,” he smirked, folding the paper and walking away.

“oh, my, god!?” your and madeline’s other close friend nadia whisper yelled as you sat down beside her. “what?” you asked, opening your book and grabbing a pen. “what did matthew want?” she smiled, urging you for details about the conversation. “oh my, nadia he was just asking for madi’s address.” you giggled, writing your name.

that class went by agonizingly slow, and then the bell finally rang.

“yeesh, madi he sure knows how to pick date nights.” you mumbled, referring to the cloudy skies. “oh hush, y/n. the way i’m feeling, it could be rain or shine i wouldn’t know the difference.” she smiled walking backwards for dramatic affect, “oh honey i’m glad.” you teased, turning her around to continue the treck back to her house.

“he’ll be here at 6, so..” she explained as we made our way up the stairs to her bedroom. “i’m thinking you pick out an outfit, while i do my hair and you can help me do my makeup.”

“aww, madi! how kind of you to include me,” you giggled making your way toward her closet. “hush it. i’ll talk you up to matthew if you’re sweet!” she winked, dragging out the ee in sweet. “oh madeline anne you better not.” your tone serious, even bringing out the middle name you know she hated. “never call me anne, and why not? you two were so sweet talking in the hallway today.”

“because of who he is madi. he doesn’t give girls the time of day, and besides you know my plans. im uninterested in anyone unless they’re helping me move” you explained, as she said the last part in unison with me. “i know y/n. but you could be a teenager until you up and leave everyone, you know. i won’t say anything. but don’t say i at least never offered.” her eyes going back to putting the rollers in her hair, now beginning to touch her makeup up.

the next two hours were filled with music, her talking about chris, and the two of you doing everything possible to make her look perfect. “wow, you look…wow,” you smiled, hugging her before spraying a bit of perfume on her.

“thanks babes,” she smiled, checking her watch. “and just in time! it’s 6!” and like clockwork, the doorbell rang. “madeline, your date is here!” you hear madeline’s mother call, as she was in the kitchen preparing some dinner for her and madeline’s father.

you raced down the stairs to answer the door, “hi christopher, madeline will be down in a second.” you smiled, nodding to chris. he gave you a small smile back, and speaking out a tiny okay.

moments later, madi finally came down stairs. “im ready,” she smiled, fixing the necklace that hang loosely around her neck. “hi, you look- you look beautiful.” chris smiled, holding some flowers in front of him. “oh, these are for you.” the blush across his face was sweet.

it was in this moment you realized, it must be nice. young love, a boy picking you up from your house, both of you dressed nice, just to go to the old drive in a quarter of a mile away from madeline’s house.

madeline took the flowers from chris, handing them to you, as she made her way out the door hand in hand with chris. “home by 11!” you hear her mother yell out, just before the front door shut.

in somewhat of a rush to get home and study, you made your way to the kitchen, quickly putting the flowers in an old vase, and taking them upstairs to carefully place them in madi’s room.

just as you were about to be out the door to head home, madeline’s mother calls out, “y/n, dear, if you don’t mind, madi’s jacket is in here on the kitchen table, i worry about her being cold, drop it off to her will you?” “yeah of course.” you mumbled.

you really didn’t want too. crash a date, oh brother just what you needed. at least it wasn’t a very long walk.

you made your way to the side gate, sneaking in so you wouldn’t have to pay to see john carpenter’s halloween, and eat carnival snacks. by the side gate, was the old lawn chairs for the people who didn’t park in time.

it was there you caught matt and nick, but no chris and madi. “hey, um.. matt.” you whispered, tapping his shoulder, at first his expression was annoyed before turning around and realizing it was you.

“oh, hey y/n. you need anything?” he asked, standing, moving to the middle area so you two weren’t in anyone’s way. “yeah, madi’s mom asked if i could bring her jacket. do you know where they are?” you asked, watching a slight blush come across his face.

“oh, uh, i kinda let them have the car to themselves. whatever they’re doin’… i promise madi’s alright without it. i’ll hold it for her though?” matt explained, scratching the back of his neck. “oh!” you gasped, finally picking up what he was laying down. “yeah, um, thanks.” you said quickly, handing the jacket to matt.

“woah, woah!” he spoke, a little loudly as he ran a bit to catch up with you. “let me walk you home? there’s a good hour left, i’ve got time to get back. and there’s bad people out there at night.”

was he this sweet to every girl? or was it because his brother was trying to have sex with your best friend?

“matt i really appreciate it, but i don’t want to make you leave your car.” you smiled, turning once more to walk away.

however, he caught up in just enough time to grab your arm and have you face him again. “y/n, it’s not making me do anything. i’m offering. please let me walk you, at least to the main part of town?”

you looked between his eyes, which were pleading for you to say yes, and the ground. “sure,” you mumbled, he smiled a bit, turning towards the exit, walking the both of you out again.

“you’re a real good friend, y/n. bringing her that coat,” he smiled down to you. “oh, it was no big deal. i’d do just about anything for madeline.” you smiled to him, “that’s sweet.” he laughed a bit.

you two hadn’t made it far, maybe 5 or 6 minutes away as rain out of nowhere began pouring. “oh shit, here y/n, cover yourself we can get back to my car and head home.” matt yelled over the rain, handing you the jacket.

as you placed it over your head, you felt matt secure a hand around your waist as he made his way back to the side gate quickly running the two of you to his car.

“fuckin’ hell that rain came out of nowhere.” he huffed, quickly opening the door for you, as he ran to his side. “y/n?! what are you doing here?” madeline asked, a smirk sly on her face. “i- your mom asked me to bring you a jacket, and matt was going to walk me back to the main side of town, but it’s raining and-”

“and now i’m taking the both of you home.” matt answered, cutting you off. it wasn’t rude, just seemed he was trying to avoid conversation.

“i wish nick would hurry his fucking ass.” chris mumbled, sliding an arm around madi. “finally.” he laughed, as nick opened the passenger side, slamming it shut once he seen you and hopping in the back.

where did sweet matt go? more importantly, why did you care?

it’s not like you and matt were on a date. madi and chris were. matt’s just being a nice guy. that’s all. and him cutting off any question on why you two were together, gave you all you needed to know. he didn’t see you that way, and he didn’t want madi thinking he seen you that way.

as he turned the radio on, an old love song sounded through. matt only rolled his eyes as he quickly shut it off, getting onto the highway and headed toward madeline’s house.

the drive was short, and matt was silent as he threw the car in park. “please don’t take years telling her goodnight chris. i wanna go home,” he mumbled, scrolling through his phone. chris rolled his eyes, mumbling “dickhead” as he got out, helping madeline slide out of the middle seat.

“matthew, is everything alright?” you asked, he blushed, looking up to you, “yeah. just- i don’t like driving in the rain.” he nodded, his full attention now back to his phone.

you bit back tears, as quickly as chris came back to the car. “i live on marbury lane. it’s just passed the drive in, and after the red light.” you explained. “i know where it’s at. chris dated one of your neighbors last year.” matt explained, putting the car in drive as he took off.

you supposed once chris is done with a girl, matt’s good guy facade is done too.

the drive was short and simple, and before you knew it, his car was parked just in front of your driveway.

you sighed as you picked up your school bag, and just before you had the opportunity to open the door. “wait, y/n, i’ll walk you in.” matt explained, hopping out quickly, coming to open your door.

you gave him a shy smile, as he opened the door giving you room to step out. “i’m sorry, if i seemed rude.” his voice was soft, and he didn’t slam the car door. “oh, really it’s alright.” you smiled turning to head to the door. “no, y/n… i was nervous. around your friend- and- i don’t know. i shouldn’t have acted that way.”

“it’s okay, matthew. goodnight.”

“let me take you out.”

the silence that fell upon both of you was deafening. “i don’t- matt i don’t date. you’re sweet but-” “but what?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit as he sounded genuinely hurt. “it’s not you matt. i just don’t date.” you shrugged.

“are you not allowed?” he asked, stepping toward you. “it’s not that i’m not allowed, my mom wants me to date.. i just have a plan matt. and i don’t need anything tying me here.”

god y/n, you thought to yourself. get over yourself! you want to go out with him, what is stopping you?!

“please? just one date, if i can’t change your mind with one, you can swear off dating again and i won’t complain. i’m sorry for being a dick, i just didn’t know how to talk to you in front of someone i didn’t know, but i’ll work on it if you just-” “matt if i say yes, will you quit rambling?” you giggled to the blushing boy.

his smile only grew, “only if you say yes.”

“you’ve got yourself a date, sturniolo. but please don’t bring your brothers.”

“anything for you.”

—

this was just a cute idea i had :,)

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader

77 notes · View notes

3wizemen · 1 year

Text

Up in Smoke - Chapter One

word count: 4814

rating: mature

After months of avoiding them following the fall of Vecna, Nancy reconnects with Steve, Eddie, and Robin, and they get absolutely zoinked out of their gourd. Hijinks ensue...mostly the gay kind.

Yes it's a Cheech and Chong song inspired fic title and epigraph. Shut up.

read on ao3

Up in smoke That's where I wanna be 'Cause when I'm high The world below Don't bother me When life begins To be one long And dangerous road I take a toke And all my cares Go up in smoke

- Sun Tzu, The Art of War

- 🜁 -

"What's up, Ro–Jesus, is that weed? Holy shit," Steve opened the door to his and Robin's apartment and immediately let out a big (read: dramatic) cough.

Robin and Eddie sat on the floor, huddled around the coffee table. "Hey, Steve-o," The girl said, waving her hand in an oddly stiff way. Her body felt weird. A goofy smile played on her lips. Steve looked funny, his arms all laden with grocery bags, a milk gallon squished in his armpit area. Silly man. "Got us some food?" Man, she was hungry.

"Yeah, what'd you get us, big boy?" Eddie said, setting his nice, black and red bowl down on the table alongside his lighter and his baggie of weed. He looked equally as silly as Steve—actually more so, with his glassy eyes and funny smile. It was nice, seeing Eddie smile. He looked like a big Labrador when he smiled, Robin decided. She laughed at the thought, and Eddie laughed too. Maybe he could read her mind. She wouldn't put it past him.

"Nice to see you, too, Eddie," Steve did not look as amused as the pair giggled. He set the groceries down on the counter (the kitchen was right on the den, no walls separating it from the sitting area) and crossed his arms over his chest. "You can't even bring that shit outside? You have to do it where you're stinking up the whole apartment?"

"Doin' it in luxury, Harrington," said Eddie, picking up his bowl again and the lighter. "Mosquitos are terrible this time of year. Wanna bite?" He held it up to Steve. It took all of Robin's willpower to not try and snatch it from him. It was her first time smoking, and she really liked it. She wanted more.

"I don't smoke," said the other boy, rather pretentiously, if Robin was any judge. "I didn't think you did, either, Robin."

Robin giggled. "Now I do," she said confidently. "This is fun. Better than drinking. Blegh," She stuck her tongue out. "It's like…it's like the Russians, their thing, but you don't wanna puke your guts out. And you're doing it…willingly and stuff," Jeez, was that just her, or was the floor moving in waves under her?

"Are you sure? You're swaying there, dude," Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Oh. Yeah. Food?" Robin steadied herself as Eddie lit the bowl again, lighter flicking. She liked that sound. Flick, flick, flick.

Robin, when she was younger, had always thought doing drugs sounded very stupid. She was a social pariah, sure, but she'd pile stonerdom on top of that. However, a lot had changed in the past year. She had also thought that monsters didn't exist, and that Hawkins didn't have any superheroes, or other dimensions, or Soviets, or…you know, any of that. So maybe Robin Buckley smoking a little bit of weed wasn't the most unexpected thing to happen in the Lord's year of 1986.

Steve rolled his eyes at Eddie as he breathed out a big puff of heady smoke and then threw her a bag of Twizzlers—Robin's favorite snack. If her brain didn't feel like it was slowly turning into the beads inside a Beanie Baby, she'd think about how sweet that was. How close she and Steve had grown over the past almost-a-year, so much so that they moved in together after Robin's house was absolutely wrecked and her parents had to move out of town (there was no way in hell Robin was leaving the only people who shared her experiences of absolute armageddon). She loved that guy.

"I love you, Steve," She said gravely, after absolutely, horribly failing to catch the Twizzlers. They fell on the carpet next to her, wrapper crinkling in a fun-sounding way. Instead of grabbing them like she had meant to, though, Robin went down right after them, face hitting the ground.

"Hey, you good there, Buckley?" Eddie said, pulling her up by the back of her shirt. He handed her the candy. He'd done this a million more times than her, so he wasn't off his ass quite as much as she was. He wisely chose to not pass her the bowl. "Greening?"

"Oh, yeah, I'm good, bud," Robin nodded, re-stabilizing, and attempted to rip open the candy package but failed once more. His fingers were like jelly. At least it was making that fun wrapper noise.

"Oh, Robin," Steve shook his head, all disappointed and mom-like. He put the milk in the fridge, then went and sat on the couch behind Robin, grabbing the package and opening them for her. "Here, weirdo."

"Unkind," The girl pouted, taking the open package and snatching a few of those good, good twists. It took her a little longer than expected to get the candies unstuck from the rest of them, fingers not cooperating with her brain. She passed them to Eddie before getting more for herself and leaned back on Steve's legs, head in his lap.

"Unkind of you to stink up my house," Steve huffed, but she could tell he was at least a little entertained, just by the way his face was as he looked down at her, kneeing her in the back to make her sit up so she wouldn't choke on her spoils. He had such a funny face. If Eddie was a big poodle thing, Steve was like…hm. A weird but cute mutt dog. Yeah. Ha, everyone's a bunch of dogs in her head today. She and Steve should get a dog. A real cute one. She'd never had a pet. Did their apartment allow them? She couldn't remember.

"Apartment," Eddie corrected, blowing more smoke out of his nose like a dragon. Cool. Steve scowled. Those two always seemed to hate each other in the most shallow, see-through-able (was there a better word? Her brain wasn't on) way. Robin thought it was so funny, especially the more she got to know Eddie. They were similar, in weird ways.

It was fun hanging out with Eddie. He and Robin had known each other, sort of, in high school, but were never really friends. He was older, way older than her in high schooler years, but they were both outcasts, and they knew their kind. Where they were different was how they handled it—Robin accepted her fate and bowed out, sticking to the sidelines, and Eddie sharpened his rejection into a tool to build his own little D&D and drug empires. Despite their lack of any meaningful interaction, she'd always been acutely aware of him for a specific reason. She had heard the rumors of Eddie Munson, the Freak. The Queer . She was never one to believe those kinds of rumors, usually. High schoolers loved calling people names, especially gay ones. But she knew Eddie's handkerchief. She remembered when she was first coming into her own as a lesbian, getting her hands on every piece of queer media she could; every letter, newspaper clipping, article, anything she could find even vaguely mentioning homosexuality in the library of the small town of Hawkins. She remembered finding a pamphlet sandwiched in the pages of a newspaper that was declaring homosexuals horrible dangers to society. It was made for some kind of gay club detailing the hanky code, left by some other queer probably long since fled from their little town. She remembered, a few years later, seeing that black hanky in Eddie's pocket and all her blood seemingly simultaneously draining and rushing to her face.

And so, deep down in her heart, in the pit of her stomach, for years as he stalled at Hawkins High, Robin had always been keenly aware of Eddie Munson, the only other queer she'd ever known. And now, here they were, high as shit on her and Steve's floor, months after defeating an insane otherworldly wizard man that almost destroyed the whole world.

Wow. That was so crazy. Really, if someone had told her a few years ago that she, Robin Buckley, would be smoking weed with Eddie Munson and leaning on her best friend, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, friends with a bunch of kids , who would surely be over later to hang out, one of whom had crazy superpowers…she would have thought they were crazy. Wild stuff.

"You OD?" Steve kneed her again, pushing her forward. She almost slammed straight into the coffee table. She felt like she had lost all parts of her spine except the fluid part. Was brain fluid a thing? She probably had that, too.

"Nah, I'm good," Robin said, uncharacteristically quiet. This being high thing was crazy. Her brain was moving slower than it ever had before. It was kind of nice. It was cool to be able to think about the past without getting horrible flashbacks. Without shaking, without crying. She hadn't been able to do that in a hot second. "Steve, Steve, listen to me," She turned around, hands on each of her friend's kneecaps, chin on her hands. She had to tell him. "You have got to try this shit, Steve. It makes your brain, like, normal. You know?"

Eddie choked out a good laugh around a Twizzler hanging from his mouth. "Poor Buckley, you're gone."

"I love you, but your brain seems to be the furthest thing from normal right now," Steve said, pushing her head back and failing to hide a fond grin. "You need to sober up before giving me any advice."

Robin looked at both of them, a confused frown gracing her lips. She wasn't that out of it. Just kept getting caught up in her thoughts, that was all. It was rare that she could think like this nowadays. "I'm fine, guys," She said, trying to exude seriousness. Before they could protest, there was a knock at the door.

"Oh?" Eddie said, raising his eyebrows. "A visitor? At this late hour?" It was only around 5, last Robin had checked. Silly Eddie.

"I'll get it!" Robin offered immediately, excited at the idea of a guest (Maybe it's one of the kids! She loved those guys), and stood up to open their door. She immediately felt her head go straight to space, orbit around the sun at least once with the rest of the planets, and wobbled on her feet. She fell onto the couch—she would have fallen on the floor if Steve didn't grab her and pull her back.

Eddie laughed, and Robin laughed too. It was the kind of laugh where it bubbled up from her stomach, causing her to roll up and lean back into the couch. Eddie rocked back, tears tinging the corners of his eyes, and Robin fell over on the couch. Steve scoffed. "Coming!" He shouted to the door, then wheeled around to glare at the other two. "Jesus, guys, someone's over and it smells like ass in here—just hide that shit, okay?" He motioned rather exasperatedly to the bounty laid out on the coffee table.

"Ew, coming, gross," Eddie gave Steve a look of mock disgust, which Steve returned with the true version. "Fine, fine, don't get your panties in a bunch," He said under his withering glare and put the bowl beneath the couch. He placed the lighter and weed in his backpack, and Robin hid the Twizzlers with the bowl, just in case.

"Does Steve always have such a stick up his ass?" Eddie leaned toward Robin, who was now sprawled across the couch instead of sitting, and cocked an eyebrow.

"It comes and goes," Robin grinned. She knew he knew the answer already—after their return from the Upside Down, when he nearly died by demobat, he'd been spending a lot more time with the party, especially the older members. They'd grown close and he was over at their apartment all the time now. There wasn't much else for the poor guy to do—they were pretty much the only people who didn't hate him, so it was a safety thing for him to stick around them as well. He'd been absolved of his murder charges after the government cleared him with a skewed trial and a ton of NDA shit, but there wasn't much that could convince the town that he hadn't killed those kids…and hadn't caused the earthquake with some demon magic.

Oh, if only they knew the real demon magic going on.

Steve grabbed some air spray (poor ozone layer) and doused the room in it before going to the door, mouthing Act normal to the pair. He peered through the peephole, a look of surprise appearing on his face before flattening back to normal. He opened the door, a shiny fake smile on display. "Nancy!"

Robin and Eddie looked at each other in disbelief. That disbelief just barely overcame the laugh that was fighting to be let free upon seeing that guy's red, red eyes again. We're fucked, she mouthed, and he nodded virgorously. Why on earth was Nancy Wheeler here, as Eddie would say, at this hour?

Following the defeat of Vecna during their raid, their concert , as Eddie liked to say, Nancy had practically fallen off the face of the earth. Which kind of sucked, since the other girl had started to grow on her. But Robin wasn't going to chase her down—they weren't that good of friends yet, and she had no clue how to even do that without seeming like a weirdo. A crazy stalker or something. A weirdo dyke.

So, it had been a few weeks since any of them had seen Nancy. With school canceled for the rest of the year to be used as a trauma center for the earthquake, and graduation postponed to somewhere in the middle of the summer, there was no circumstance to. Mike had said that she was in her room a lot, or with Jonathan, who had moved back in with his family a while ago.

"Hey, Steve," came Nancy's voice, that soft but sharp tone she always had piercing the haze of smoke and aerosol like a butter knife. Robin perked up. She sounded weird. Kind of sad, maybe?

Steve moved to let Nancy in, and Robin got a look at her. She was wearing a pink skirt and a white frilly top, all covered by a denim jacket, her equally pink lips pressed in a tight line that she tried to make a smile. Her perm was perm-y as ever. She looked funny, as did everyone right now. If Robin could assign her a dog, it would be a toy poodle or some kind of spaniel. Like Lady from Lady and the Tramp .

"This is a nice apartment–" Nancy scrunched up her nose as she stepped through the threshold, eyes falling on Eddie and Robin strewed around the sitting area. "Is that dope?" The weight had gone from her voice, replaced by confusion.

"Nope," Robin said, shaking her head convincingly. Acting normal, that's what she was doing.

"Nuh-uh," Eddie agreed, furrowing his brows and causing his hair to whirlwind around him with the ferocity of his disapproving nod. They were so good at this.

Nancy raised an eyebrow. "I know that smell, no matter how much air freshener you put over it," She remarked with a smirk. Of course she knew, with what Robin had heard about Jonathan's adventures in California. Busted.

Eddie held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, Harrington, the jig's up," He said, leaning back with a little bit of a smile. Steve shook his head at him from behind Nancy, locking the door once more.

"Robin, are you high, too?" Nancy looked at her, blue eyes always so piercing. Like she was reading her like a paper, or a line of code, or something else people analyze really closely. She thought back to their adventure in the library, feeling like one of its books. She shifted around in her seat, uncomfortable, and fidgeted with the hem of her shorts.

"Hey, what's with all the interrogating? Strutting into their place and immediately demanding answers," Eddie butted in, saving Robin's life. She hated feeling like she was being read, and for once, being high was not helping soothe her mind. It was probably why she was feeling this way, she realized numbly. She could feel Nancy's eyes running over every line of text in her head. She definitely could not form a sentence, not even a word, with Nancy looking at her like that.

"It was just a question," Nancy shrugged, her watchtower eyes mercifully flitting to Eddie. Phew, Robin could breathe again.

"Here's a question: why are you here, Wheeler?" countered Eddie a bit rudely. He leaned forward again, resting his elbow on the coffee table and his chin on his hand. He flashed a sweet smile to soften his last comment. "It's been a while."

Nancy paused. "Yes, it has been a while," She echoed, looking between Eddie and Steve as the latter moved to sit on the couch, moving Robin's legs out of the way. They flopped to the ground, dead weight. Thump . "I…I don't know, I haven't seen you guys in a minute. I figured I should stop by and see how you were doing. See the apartment, and stuff," Oh, right, she'd never seen the apartment. Robin and Steve had moved soon after the earthquake. Nancy had already disappeared by that point.

"Uh-huh," Eddie said doubtfully. Robin knew he thought that Nancy still believed she was better than him—she had thought similarly of the girl for a long while. Years, actually, following Barb's departure to become her best friend instead. She had only recently shaken that idea after lying their way into a crazy hospital-prison and killing an evil demon wizard with her.

"We're just chilling out," Steve said, resting his arms on the back of the sofa. Robin leaned on him, her head sort of on his armpit/shoulder area. He was comfy. "Have been, since, you know…" He swirled his hand in the air.

"Yeah," Nancy said, a little awkwardly now that she was the only one standing. A lone lighthouse, her gaze a big beam of light swooping between the three sitting. "I…I've been busy, you know, writing about all of the earthquake stuff. Sorry I haven't been around a lot."

"No worries," Steve shrugged, moving Robin's head a little. She felt those eyes turn to her again and mustered up the bravery to meet them. Nancy was looking between her and Steve, an odd expression on her face. "Wanna hang for a little?" He asked, dodging an incredulous look from Eddie. Robin didn't blame him. This was painful, even with the weed filling up her mind like stuffing.

Nancy nodded and moved to sit on the worn red armchair next to the couch, curls bouncing in a way Robin found fascinating. It was weird, seeing Nancy this out of her depth among people who she'd walked with through literal hell—or really seeing her out of her depth at all. She felt kind of bad. Nancy had probably avoided them on purpose. Before it all went down, she used to drop by Family Video sometimes to pick up a movie, but after, she never returned. While Robin, Steve, Eddie, and the kids found themselves seeking out each other to cope, taking comfort in the fact that they—the only ones who knew what hell was like—were still there, still together, Nancy had withdrawn, vanishing for months except an occasional visit to Max in the hospital, usually when no one else was there.

It wasn't like they'd sought her out, either. Guilt prickled at the back of Robin's partially numb neck. She should probably say something. "Uh, how's it been, Wheeler?" She asked, forcing her insanely dry throat to work. "How's, uh, the reporting, and stuff been?"

Nancy looked at Robin, seeming appreciative. "It's been…something. I mean, I'm sure you've seen how they've been trying to fill the rifts the gates made. With school getting shut down, and so many houses destroyed, it's all just…a lot. And no one knows what it really was. They just think it was a 7.4-magnitude earthquake. That's the biggest earthquake to ever happen in Indiana, so a lot of seismologists have been here to study it. The last one was in ‘68, and that was only 5.4–"

"That's two more magnitudes," Steve nodded wisely.

Robin snorted. "Quite a few."

Nancy gave them that weird look again, but Robin avoided her magnetic eye contact, instead looking at Eddie. The other boy had leaned over and reached under the couch, retrieving his bowl. A pleading look from Robin got him to fetch her Twizzlers as well out of pure laziness on her part.

"Seriously, dude?" Steve sighed.

"She already knows, what's the deal?" Eddie shrugged, packing it. "Want some, Buckley?" "I think Robin's cut off for now," Steve said, giving up on trying to stop him. "I mean, look at her. Blasted," He waved his hand in front of her face.

Robin tried to swat his hand away, but missed, her hand landing on his arm. "Shut up, I'm fine. Do I really look that bad?"

Eddie laughed his friendly, loud laugh, and Steve chuckled and shook his head. Even Nancy smiled a little, raising an elegant eyebrow. "Hey, stop laughing!" Robin pouted, squeezing Steve's arm. "You guys suck."

Laughing at Robin seemed to lighten the tense air a little bit. Nancy, bemused, reached into the little purse she had been carrying and retrieved a small, pink disc. She leaned over and handed it to Steve, who handed it to Robin. She stared at it dumbly. "What is this?"

"Open it, idiot," Steve took the foreign object from her and pried it open, revealing a mirror. Woah. The magic of modern science.

"Oh," Robin took the compact from him, holding it up to her face to get a good look at herself. Her blue eyes were red and glassy, her cheeks all flushed. She pressed a hand to the side of her face. "Oh."

"Ha, yeah," Eddie laughed, lighting the bowl again and taking a hissing hit. "That's what it does to you, Buckley. Totally worth it, though," He said, breathing out a thick puff.

"Yeah," Robin kept moving the mirror, looking at herself. God, how embarrassing! Of course Nancy showed up, after a nearly two months' absence, to her stoned out of her mind and looking like a crazy person. She prickled, ashamed.

Nancy chuckled. "You guys have been having fun, huh?" She said. That sad tone came back to her voice, barely detectable, but Robin's expert (stoned) ears rooted it out.

"Oh, no, no, no," Robin shook her head, furrowing her brows and waving her free hand. "First time doing this," She had just earned Nancy's…respect? When they went to the Upside Down, and now, having not seen her since then, she was in their apartment, watching her be high as shit for the first time ever. "First time."

"Okay," Nancy hummed. She seemed to be relaxing a little bit. "I did mean it, though. This is a nice place, despite the smell," She chuckled a little bit, and Steve directed a pointed look at Robin and Eddie. Mostly Eddie.

"Thanks, Nance," Steve said. "We try."

On their Family Video budgets, it had taken some time to really decorate the apartment. It was still pretty bare—an old blue couch, a worn red armchair, a coffee table, a TV, a toaster for the kitchen. A fun rug Robin found at the thrift store. Everything was kind of old, all second-hand (Except for the toaster: that was brand new and Steve's pride and joy), but it was good enough for both of them and the kids. It was home.

"Wish you coulda been here to help them move," Eddie lamented, taking a long hit. "Getting that couch up the stairs was harder than the whole Upside Down deal."

"You just like to complain," Robin could practically feel Steve roll his eyes. "It only took, like, thirty minutes."

"Yeah, for one flight of stairs!" Smoke poured out of Eddie's mouth as he spoke, getting that wicked smile that was practically reserved for moments where he annoyed Steve. Robin watched the smoke wind and curl up to the ceiling, its movements slow and hypnotizing. Maybe they should open a window.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," Nancy said, her serious tone contrasting the boys'. "It's been a lot. It was easier to work, you know, focus on the earthquake, than think about everything that really happened," Her pretty blue eyes were round, apologetic.

"It's fine," Steve waved his hand. "Everyone deals with it differently, Nance," It was very similar to what he'd said to Lucas a few weeks ago when he and Robin went to visit Max. Lucas had barely left her side since the raid. He had shut everyone out except her…it was painful to watch. Steve had managed to convince him to spend at least one day with the party a week, just to get a break, after much deliberation.

"You're so good," Robin said, hoping that sounded supportive. She was very aware now that she was not properly functioning, but she was trying. She wanted to soothe Nancy's fears; it weighed her body down like an anchor to think that the other girl had been suffering from such guilt on top of the beaucoup trauma they'd all garnered.

It was Eddie's turn to roll his eyes. "Whatever, Wheeler," he said, eyes narrowing. "Wanna smoke?" He held the bowl out sloppily, a sharp joke at her expense. God, Eddie could be so insensitive sometimes. Robin wanted to cuff him for that, but she was unsure her impaired balance would allow her to, so she refrained.

"Sure," shrugged Nancy. Everyone in the room's eyebrows shot through their hairlines as she reached forward and took the bowl in her thin, scarred hands and expertly lit it, tapping her thumb against the carb and inhaling smoothly.

Robin watched Nancy take a hit, her eyes glued to the other girl. She inhaled and then blew the smoke out in a thin stream that slowly expanded into a swirling cloud. She was far more elegant than Robin, who had spluttered and coughed through the whole process.

"You smoked before?" Eddie asked, genuine surprise overtaking his condescension, dark brows raised.

"A few times," Nancy said nonchalantly, almost sheepish. She fiddled with the pipe. Her fingers analyzing every crevice of the blown glass as her gaze flitted inbetween the others.

"Oh, yeah, Jonathan's a major stoner now, isn't he?" Steve asked. Robin gave him a gentle slap on the arm. Don't be rude, Steve .

Nancy shifted a bit in her seat at the mention of her boyfriend. "Yeah. We smoked together a couple times," She said before taking another, larger hit. She was mesmerizing to watch, the way the smoke dripped from her rosy lips to curl into gorgeous slithering plumes with her soft exhale.

"That's cool," Robin remarked intelligently. She tore her eyes away from the other girl's mouth, feeling guilty.

Eddie nodded in agreement, silent, for once. It seemed Nancy had possibly won his forgiveness, or at least understanding, for going no-contact. Or he was just very high.

"Well, if you all are smoking, I'm getting a beer," Steve said decisively, gently pushing Robin off of him so that he could stand up. As he walked to the kitchen, Eddie hummed his disapproval.

"Hey, before you drink, Harrington, wanna run grab us some pizza? We can make a night of this," He gestured to all of them, grinning his lopsided grin. "A reunion feast."

"I just went to the grocery store," Steve motioned to the grocery bags still laying out on the counter, exasperated.

"Yeah, but that's not fun food, Stevie," Eddie stood, using the coffee table to support his ascension. He teetered for a moment, then steadied. "Come on, I'll go with."

"I could go for some pizza," Robin shrugged, and Nancy nodded in agreement. The other girl was catching up quickly to the other two on hit count. If only Eddie felt the desire to berate her dope-hogging, because Robin sure didn't.

"Three to one," Eddie said triumphantly, walking over to link arms with the other boy, who stiffened. "You're driving."

Steve shot Robin a look of betrayal as she allowed Eddie to drag him out the door. "Have fun, you two," She said as the door shut.

Now it was just her and Nancy.

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #steve harrington #fanfiction #read on ao3 #marijuana tw #3wizemenupinsmoke

2 notes · View notes

sleeplessscripts · 1 year

Text

Alright, I watched the first lord of the rings film for the first time in my life a couple weeks ago, here are some highlights. Tw for: spoilers for the first LOTR movie (Fellowship of the ring), discussions of: violence, drugs, swearing, and a lot of gay pining, also the use of the phrase “piss river” probably more often than is necessary

Elves: 👀👀👀👀👀

Oh dwarves also: 👀👀👀👀👀👀

Sounds like Sauron had daddy issues, or mommy issues

You might not feel thin if you had more than cake, jam, wine, and moldy cheese in your house

OH MY GOD ARE THEY DOUNT DRUGS

Ooooo I love the fireworks

Why does wizard man get all the history books and papers

How are the children supposed to learn not to repeat the past and die like a little bitch in a piss river if they can’t access the knowledge

At least fucking Frodo makes Gandalf tea god damn

Me @ the characters: HOLD HANDS

Isn’t this other wizard bitch evil. I feel like I remember that he’s evil and a backstabber.

Is there a dragon in these ones or do I gotta wait for hobbit

Ooooo scary glass orb

That’s what I thought you fucking bitch. Fuck you. Close your doors bitch that doesn’t mean you can’t get that fucking staff shoved up your ass. Shove that white orb down your fucking throat till you choke.

You spin me right round baby like a record baby right round round round

CORN. CROMCH. CROMCH THE CORN. ITS READY TO BE CROMCHED.

Oh my god the silly little video game is realistic to the movie? You do get chased around in a god damn corn field?

Bitches y’all are afraid of worms? (Friend: you’re afraid of lady bugs). Yeah but I don’t spend my 110 fucking years of life lolligagging with no shoes on through fields of ladybugs.

They really gave these bitches 0 weapons

Because a horse couldn’t jump 5 fucking feet into the river

Lotr horses weak compared to skyrims. Can’t even fly. 0/10.

These hobbits are so fucking stupid. Real white woman in a horror film vibes.

Whenever the chanting starts I can only think “Asmodeus, Satanus, Lucifer”

Have these bitches never heard of coal

Oh YUCK. DISGUSTING BIRTHING RITUAL. COVERED IN EARTH UTERUS. SLIMY.

[insert the sorry, mommy bit here]

There’s so many handsome men with long hair oh my god

“Still sharp” no shit Sherlock

Also the king of the elves is not daddy material

The elves’ city reminds me of fuckin markarth

Aragorn, that’s his name. Anyway his little smirk? Fantastic.

I’d like to have all their weapons, preferably at once. Take this as you will.

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST BILBO WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT

Off we go, walking. Can’t wait till there’s giant spiders. Pretty scenery though. (Note: I describe all of the LOTR and Hobbit films as films where they walk in circles and do nothing but fight giant spiders)

Tbh I only trust Aragorn here. If shit happens with him later I will be devastated.

Ah yes two old men fighting through magical chants 100% the way to go

Have they really not gotten Frodo a pair of shoes yet Jesus Christ

The pony’s name is fucking Bill??? Everyone else has bomb ass names and the pony is Bill????

Sorry, Gimli, oh tentacles??? 👀. Anyway rip to your family. OH KRACKEN? 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

“I have no memory of this place” me constantly, Gandalf, join the club

Oh that is a huge book

Big oof @ the clanking good job other hobbit

Cave troll: ugly. Not daddy material. Also did they use donkey noises for it?

Rest in piss to Frodo, at least you didn’t die in a piss river like that other bitch

All these men flinging and catching and holding each other while crossing a gap is pretty gay, ngl

Oh dragon? Dragonlike? Whip? Oh fuckin rip Gandalf.

Oh woods time? Is it spider time soon? OH MORE ELVES???

Oh pretty tree elf architecture I approve

Men? Crying at the beauty of a woman? Couldn’t be me.

Oh having a panic attack bc of voices in your head? Me too, dude

Yeah this elf woman? Bad vibes. Creepy.

Why is this one still covered in goopy earth placenta. Give this bitch a bath he has to smell horrible.

Okay how the fuck does the math work out if the human king was 3000 years ago, his son took the ring, died in piss river, gollum had it for 500 years, then Bilbo had it for however long, and Aragorn is the son of the second king?

Auburn hair bitch (Boromir) back the fuck off.

This is a shitty fucking plan sending Frodo by himself.

He go toot toot

Also I wanna run through a forest

Oh that bitch dead, yeet

Do arrows really go that far into someone?

Oh pulling the sword into yourself? Ngl… 👀

Anyway rest in piss to those we’ve lost

If Sam dies by drowning I swear to fuck

Honestly Sam is an OG friend, the only good one

Oh boat burial for Mr. I Thought I Could Have The Ring. He also deserves piss river, so good.

#lord of the rings #fellowship of the ring #shitposting #lotr

1 note · View note

incrediblysincere · 4 years

Text

Moral Orel: What to watch and what to avoid.

Moral Orel is a 2005-2008 satirical claymation comedy show that aired on Adultswim. It primarily deals with themes of Christianity, religious abuse, parental abuse, and loss of innocence. It’s not a show I would recommend everyone watch due to it’s extremely heavy themes in seasons 2 and 3, however it is also a very good show that includes:

- satirising religious abuse;

- the way Christianity is used as a justification for child abuse;

- portrayals of neglectful and abusive parents;

- alcoholism;

- a child growing up in this particular unhealthy environment;

- positive gay representation including:

- a gay or possibly bisexual man, struggling with his attraction towards a married man, and

- a young lesbian woman struggling with rejection and manipulation by a straight woman;

- an incredible soundtrack featuring the mountain goats.

However, the first season especially can be downright cruel at times in its frank portrayal of heavy subjects. The first season particularly feels more like a general dig at religion in a shallow way, while the later two seasons are much more well-rounded and thought out. Due to certain episodes in the first season, I am making a list of episodes that can be skipped in part or in whole due to triggering topics. (These episodes contribute little to the later storyline as each is more of a self-contained story than part of the greater narrative).

Every episode includes abuse or the implication of it, growing more explicit each season. There is also casual misogyny, homophobia, and antisemitism, all within the satire of Christianity and the typical tone of the show.

Season 1:

Episode 1: The Lord’s Greatest Gift (No need to skip)

It is a good introduction to the tone of the first season. Nothing too major, it features Orel (an 11 year old) bringing several people back from the dead because he believes they are throwing away the lord’s greatest gift. No need to skip, it is overall silly and inoffensive.

Episode 2: God’s Chef (skip)

This is the one I definitely recommend skipping. Orel is caught masturbating and misinterprets the subsequent telling-off. He proceeds to rape a lot of adult women in their sleep with a pastry bag. This episode is definitely one of the most tasteless episodes. Don’t watch if rape is a trigger, even though it’s not for me, it was still very hard to watch.

Episode 3: Charity (maybe skip)

This one is about Orel (once again) misinterpreting a sermon and buying crack, eventually becoming addicted to it. Skip if graphic depictions of drug addiction/making light of addiction isn’t your thing. This episode has some pretty funny moments, but it isn’t essential to watch.

Episode 4: Waste (maybe skip)

This episode features Orel misinterpreting a sermon and consequently drinking his own urine and selling it to his classmates as a sports drink. Skip if that sounds gross to you. It also features a quick joke about the school’s sports team being called “The Vanishing Americans” with a native american caricature as a mascot. (note: this also properly introduces what is imo, one of the best characters, Coach Stopframe.)

Episode 5: The Blessed Union (no need to skip)

In this episode we meet the other best character, Stephanie. She does give Orel a Prince Albert (penis) piercing, but feels bad about it afterwards. Skip if that sounds iffy to you, but overall the episode has a much softer tone as Stephanie is one of the only characters who genuinely cares about Orel.

Episode 6: Omnipresence (maybe skip)

This episode features Orel believing God is in everything, including himself, and subesequently trying to heal everyone. Mostly inoffensive, but a man does try to commit suicide (and fails) and Orel unplugs an elderly womans life support under her instruction. Skip if these topics make you uncomfortable.

Episode 7: God-Fearing (no need to skip)

Orel has no fun on Halloween because, due to having God on his side, nothing is scary to him. In order to have fun he deliberately breaks all the ten commandments, including “Thou shalt not kill”. Pretty inoffensive.

Episode 8: Loyalty (maybe skip)

Orel is introduced to Coach Stopframe’s nephew, Joe, and the two become friends. Due to the sermon of the day being about loyalty to friends, Orel does whatever Joe wants. This includes bashing a pair of young gay boys with baseball bats, which isn’t depicted too graphically, but is hard to watch. The episode also features Clay Puppington getting three young boys drunk. Skip if this sounds triggering, it doesn’t add much to the plot.

Episode 9: Maturity (maybe skip)

Orel’s younger brother, Shapey, accidentally shoots him in the eye with a BB gun. Orel wants to become more mature like an adult, so he starts stealing liquor from his dad’s collection in order to be an adult. Skip if alcoholism is a trigger for you.

Episode 10: The best Christmas Ever (don’t skip if plot is important to you)

The Best Christmas Ever marks the start of a real storyline in Moral Orel. It has some dark themes, and if you want to watch seasons 2 and 3, know that it just gets darker from here. However, this is also where it starts getting good, so I (probably) won’t be writing up trigger warnings for seasons 2 and 3, especially since that’ll also contain spoilers.

It is revealed that Shapey was an unplanned pregnancy, and may also not be Clay’s biological son. Bloberta wants a divorce. Orel believes Shapey to be the second coming of Jesus and treats him accordingly. Orel pleads God, with two minutes left of Christmas, to make things better.

I probably won’t provide warnings for seasons two o three. It’s expected that if you get up to this point that you are okay with the show satirizing the topics of child abuse, religious abuse, and alcoholism. Things get darker from here but are also more coherent, meaning that if you are able to stomach such topics then it is an excellent watch and anything I could write would also spoil the plot. This is meant as a loose guide to which first season episodes to avoid, and is the type of guide I could have used on my first watch. Also, I’m autistic and have too much free time.

#rext messages #moral orel #rape #homophobia #drug abuse #abuse #religious abuse #alcoholism #addiction

68 notes · View notes

whatsthenameofthisgame · 4 years

Text

Intergalactic Interrogations (II)

"Where am I?"

[What do you mean?]

"Instead of just sitting there moving blood all day, and failing roughly might I add,- Are you recording this conversation? That's disrespectful, I'll have you know we started learning binary and ridiculous little facts about your friend. I don't know who raised you wrong,"

[Hey.}

"I'd- {emmited} have you forget. Speak English numb for brawl! *maybe there is a slap here*"

["Go to the top 10 close or near you everywhere you go that you consider the smartest people in the world & become their best friends foreverest...," I drawl out every one of my answers like a disgusting fountain, yet they aren't happy with any of them. To think it all could have started with a scared girl asking me what I know and warp through timespace paranoia, or that quantum mechanics has caused this all to be real.]

"Here's (apparently) what living sages do they write all of the time. And they secretly don't give a fuck what anyone thinks about them."

[I'm listening to someone write the show for me, I don't always connect parts of my brain with other parts so well, but when I don't its's because I'm completely mental that I can make things out as other sounds.]

"He inserted apparently over us. What a dick head."

[I was writing before this as well. Get ready for another roundabout of Intergalactic Interrogations]

["How would you describe this, Fake Judas(2) what kind of situation do we have here? Remember, I'm made to forget and then reremember again."]

"It's very logical. It's simple. You have to have a Marine Corp mindset in infilitrating the cause."

[I am both afraid and completely unafraid of what I am doing. To be afraid of this silly game would be ridiculous and stupid. On the other hand he's been learning from me as I learn from him-]

"He's been completely thinking ridiculous things over what we're saying. He's a whoremonger." ""IT IT,"" maybe demons scream, but I am untethered from the boulder like a chain beneath the ocean, the weight simply presses into the sand. The fishes swim around as I wander in my drowning to the top where the ship is safe in the sunlight.

[On the other hand- quantum questions pose like prose, possessing possibly - I ignore FakeJudas(2). It is hard to keep up with everything. I need a writer still. I turn to Affiliate. Please have Alliteration do her thing without guiding us into rap for hours on end again, thank you very much. Affiliate looks confused and furious, for I often thought he was on the wrong end of the job spectrum ever since our staycation in the fire bird land of no sounds, place of the falsified Gods, faces in the spaces, The Devil's home of Peter's ignorances ... Anyway where was I? It is really hard to keep up with everybody and everything. There is a whole plot line, that I feel truly matters, and we are all missing it for the amount of activity going on in all of your heads while I've got mine. Is it mine? To start. Or are all of these conversations I'm tapping into the way of the real brain. Every particle of water an ocean? Every idea a world of thought? I already thought so. It isn't time for creative freedoms. I think we are supposed to focus on my suicide. For the sake of suicide. "Aha! Where we were last standing, one of the better reasons why I have roses elegantly and unevenly tattooed on my fingers. They're both cocked and one is in my mouth outright, while the other is at you. It was in your hands, and I gave you the tools necessary to save it. Save your belly aching. Every bit of paranoia, was it real, or were you trying to induce it? Save it for the masses. I know it's always a little bit of both. And that the most obvious answer is usually the truth. Variety is the best spice- and I'll have at my dad's pizza with way too much spice, for the loving good Grace from which Moses parted the water of life into place, (I am making a Tokyo MewMew joke that is a bit elongated) the V for which has He, Friends With Time, Drawer of Lord Excalibur when I actually love myself, rainbow gay pride I've forgotten uniciorn chapter books volume one and two powers activate!) *I start to turn, /now I am not paying attention to anything as I mash jokes into my own life story./

"This is what we paid for. This is disgusting filth. Think you can handle it?"

Think you can handle it? Would Filthy Frank even read this shit right here? We didn't even pay for all of these references. We're just hoping we get so many more people on team blue than team red so that we're able to just diss the suing right out of the waters like a lotus. Hah! Get that. I'm named after water so I'm doing water jokes. Listen, kid. I have heard a lot of jokes from the demons. You really don't want to start with me. I'm trained to accept them as a compliment, which I was saying back before we were all *I'm channeling Filthy Frank's voice in a ricefields sunhat visor right here* simple and shit. Now they are even trying to insult me with compliments and it's working. Listen, you never did knew that evil was good and proper and right. There was a new face of evil on the block, and it was the face of a genius sociopathic borderline child.

"Oh my God, You really do think like you're God."

[Guess what. Bitches, I have Autism so I cannot understand the emotional connotation in your words. Knowing that, I interpret it as fast as crazy, which is why no sweat because I also know that sometimes that's exactly what you're doing. Meaning I think of many ideas and crap. Your every thought could come to me like an intellectual process. I have no way of being.]

"Do you think you're special? Stay on topic please, I've seen we've gone a little socio today lady."

["I am silent. All is the same in my canoe which is made of wood and has travelled from hell through the underground rivers to the open and vast, great sea. Cold, or hot, shivering or sweating, thirst or hunger, war, famine, fire, flood, I know that I must and can navigate through it and 'round, 'round again, for this canoe and its lantern was tethered to my soul, it was tethered to my idea of neutral state meditation through chaotic forces. I was the canoe, one could say. I was the ship. Or the wood. The wood which came from the tree. Maybe The Tree. A Tree of Time, careful creature, making friends with it. And as the tree, and with brainwaves being like a tree, and all things one in the same, I made a hollow for those beyond to perch before they fade to worlds-"]

"This is artinery, itternerary(?) Get to the point."

[Often what I say, I sort of contribute to ghosts and other things.]

"This is what we get out of you? Jesus. (What are you, Santiago?) What happened to the sainthood?"

["Indeed I am Santiago, Another one of my many names, Dare ye say it, (Which they didn't.)]

"Look at what this kid is thinking of completely loaded. I think that maybe it is hilarious. Or perhaps all his excuses for crap."

[Indeed that all of this content was now filler. JENGA was on hiatus since the before times. We cannot remember those Interrogation Negotiations. But they were amazing. We have screenshots of half of them and had to delete the better half because they were too good and terrifying. We will try to interpret the rest of them someday (soon?).]

[The prophet wasn't just an excuse I made up. It was A Dream. A Dream that one day we will live not by the color of our skin, but by the confusing and complex mental makup which propels us towards the best future for us evolutionarily. Forget about that, everything. Like you have made me, by my words, let us start from the beginning.

Two systems learning from each other causes complex interactions to occur, especially when both have different and unfair advantages over each other. One could say each part of the brain that makes up the whole is its own complex system.]

"Stop talking about them to other people. I hope they rot for what they did to those people."

[Here is a classic bit where I have the chance to explain how either The Devil or The Enemy (FakeJudas2) Might try to make me look like the culprit. Reverse Psychology. It works on me. Which is why my card is chaotic. I don't want you to know what I'm doing, and if you do, then why should it matter what I do? It seems the whole world knows and yet no one knows. God knows what nobody feels like, because he is like us, we are made in his image. If I am nobody, he is nobody. So nobody knows just as well enough as anybody knows. But in both parts give or take, there are still bodies. Lot's of bloody and mutilated bodies which The Enemy has made of my Friends' & Loved One.]

/I take le break/

Depending on how serious JENGA gets, we have to use different members of the army through me. How did we get here, how is this all possible. It is a really meaningful story with lots of science, but we do not have infinite time. I will try to get to that at most.

"What about your boyfriend,"

["For the sake of Einstein, for the sake of proving you can go from Autism to full-blown socio, that realizing the brain works in the way that it does, and that it is all of your faults for being stupid assholes. It my fault for being a stupid asshole. And God is My Judge. Not You."]

"So, are you planning on telling him about any of this, or do you not know how important he is?"

["For the sake of insanity, genius is found."]

"Are you still completely avoiding the question? And how is it that he knows we're watching him for? Does he complete God in the blood?"

[Some things I do not understand. Or remember, or reitterate well. Catch me on drugs. Dattebayo! *flashback* Dattebayo was where it all started. The ten men, pandora's box, the stories, the puzzles, the lands across, the signs, a single time fine dining, and it is also there but not completely all-there.]

"So dattebayo was where it all started, huh? How embarrassing for one so wasted on the regular."

["Never giving up. Dattebayo. Believe it." "How about the story of the modulators some more? Before or after they were modulators? I have many stories to entertain you."]

"even when the conversation is all dead he has a way of going more crazy." a girl chimes in "He's probably been listening to what we are saying and considering it as JENGA."

he continues "Tell me a story to entertain me, that is what I am here for, give me a wild ride, show me some lude-icrous, something more, vivid, that shows me your kind of ideal lifestyle."

["You sounded like the villain in Tarzan for a second there. Well that's me, Tarzan. Me. Need. Jane. Didn't think I could play her. Rub the mud on my face, ask my monkey mother why I am not like them, she says to wipe the mud off.]

"I'm getting more curious, about what you're doing... you can write more than pages, you can write a book."

[I have, it's something I've always been working on. I've written loads of books, just lost, unpublished, deleted... How about I get really high and have someone speak through me now that we're getting down to the odds and ends. Let's get to the nitty-gritty of it. Once you find a way to constantly market off of things that might bother you, you have struck gold my son. The idea however, is to make them better, not worse, so they have a reason to last through the ages. Easier said than done...]

"He/She talks like an old wheezer. They can't- Can they hear me? Can they hear over our conversations? *plethoras of someones' breathy Oh my Gods" over everything. That means they know we're here, they can really hear us! Good job,"

[Did the dialogue switch into a ghosts' narration? It is hard to tell without any figures to watch with my eyes, and the words coming with systems built into a natural Ouija of my own. I won't literally raise hell again, yet... it is always tempted. And must be avoided. We're stepping too close to stories of old. The quantum questions must be pressed. Think harder. I don't know what it is you're thinking, I'm only typing. I am a genius if we aren't psychic, and a numbskull for God if we are All One.

The modulators can be set to different configurations, and put into different settings and events to see the initial outcomes in a module. At all of the Modulators worst configurations, M for their last name is capital. A good example of perfect awful configurations is religious reenactments by a family module within my own person. One's nature is that of a dads', Two is that of a moms', Three is that of a sons', four is that of a daughters', And the configurations always leans towards the predominantly biased neutral algorithyms.

Too much math, too may graphs to come, not sure how to organize it all, so we will have to say, partay.]

"So it feels like you're being taken advantage of by everything." my best friend asks me as my mom may also paranoidly be bothering my brother about me in the distance because I am typing so fast in the middle of the night.

[We've has this conversation before, so it's GroundHog day, only bigger, it's a show.]

"That's what we've been trying to tell you, You should write a show instead of bothering, us."

["Where is Jeremy Todd Ewbank?" I am the horseman, or headless, all the numbers, and the dungeon master because we currently already have a dab master, so you can Direct Message me the answer, Because I'm the Daniel Manual you've been looking for.]

"Jeremy Ewbank is not with us anymore. He's literally done. He can barely breath from your shit."

[The interrogations go haywire as soon as they begin again. Which one of us is being interrogated. "What happened to Jeremy Ewbank. Don't make me rhyme a hundred things with master in a bad rap. Aye, you know that gurl was my princess. You know, we know, we would never let go of or throw away one another, so where is he, *I put an invisible gun, but because I have written this, I will always be paranoid of them. We have to avoid them.

Evacuation Strategies: Red dots: Fun if you're a cat, dangerous if it is a gun. Shrodinger's Gun.

I take a break from interrogations because of laziness and lack of drugs. "JENGA," I claim, and the imaginary tower falls. How to explain a thing about creative manifestation to you, about all of the wild possibilities? So hard, I'd rather play Nintendogs for three hours.]

This is breaking bread with thine enemy

#writing #crack #Intergalactic Interrogations #Intergalactic crack #Intergalactic #Interrogations

1 note · View note

mermaid-of-the-valley · 5 years

Text

We’re Dynamite

My part of the collaboration with @theeternalspace. Just wanted to post it up separate from the original so it’s a bit easier to find.

Characters: Virgil, Roman, and Remus(Briefly)

Pairing: Prinxiety

Hero and Villain AU based on this prompt.

The Dazzling Prince, scourge of the city, beauteous lord of all… Probably should have seen this coming.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Roman was racing through the side streets on his motorbike, pursuers hot on his sparkling tail. Honestly, so uncool. You turn a few minor leaguers in for a reduced sentence and suddenly You’re the traitor?! Ridiculous. “It was only a few kilos of coke lost, get over yourselves!” He yelled hysterically.

A bullet ricocheted off the wall beside him. “Okay, we’re doing this.” Autopilot engaged, he flipped around to face his assailants. “So, no one told you life was gonna be this waaay!~ ” Clap, clap, clap, clap. The lane exploded in light waves timed to his performance. The one closest to him had his front tire sheered in half and from there it was a tumble into his two cohorts.

“Woops, that’s going to leave some road rash!” Roman threw his head back, laughing wildly. “Better luck next time, sweethearts!” He twisted back around. Autopilot disengaged, he gave a sharp turn down an alley, jumped the cycle over a car and swiveled deeper into the labyrinth.

All things considered, a quiet night. He sighed. “Siri, text my shadow knight. ‘Hey, Angel. I’m about to knock off a jewelry store for an engagement ring. What cut did you want again?’ Send.”

The ‘message sent’ text bounced with every bump in the road and Roman spent a little too long staring at the screen. He might not have glanced up at all, confident in his bike’s artificial intelligence covering for his gay dumbassery, but then he heard it.

“We’re no strangers to love, you know the rules and so do I!”

Roman screeched to a halt just outside his territory. The music skipped a beat, getting louder.

“A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of, you wouldn’t get this from any other guy!” Left? Right? Where the heck was that stupid song coming from? He rolled out onto the road.

“I just want to tell you how I’m feelin’, gotta make you understand!”

And then he was hit with a truck.

——————————————————————————————

He came to in the vehicle’s flatbed. Almost certainly concussed and his nose bruised if not broken. Well, that would take a bit to heal. Roman pried open his eyes to take in the fishy smelling, green splattered warehouse.

“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you! Never gonna let you die, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell you why, just hurt you!~ ”

Aw f*ck, it was Remus.

“Hey, Bro-bro! You look like shit!” His greasy face hovered over Roman’s.

The prince groaned. “Well, it feels like I was hit with a monster truck, you freaking lunatic.”

“Oh, that was just to throw you off balance! I knew you’d be fine! Want to see the tape? I caught the whole thing on the dashcam!” He yanked Roman from the flatbed by a fistful of his uniform. Roman barely managing to catch himself.

Remus cackled. “It was great! Just BANG! Right over the hood! You looked like a deer!”

“Dare I ask what you did with Maggie?”

“She’s a little banged up. The boys took her back to the shop to get better.” His grin was a little too wide.

“If you touch her A.I. again I’ll strangle you.”

“Kinky.” Remus pushed him into a folding chair. It wobbled dangerously backwards before jerking forward once again, Remus’ hands on either side of the seat. “Not that it’s surprising considering your little tryst with the mutant pigeon.”

Roman squinted. “You’re misreading the situation. It’s a heartwarming story of enemies to lovers! … With a little tequila for flavor.”

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t fluffed those wings?” He wiggled his eyebrows, but the smile was strained. “Faced assault with a friendly weapon? Done the devil’s dance?” His voice was rising in irritation. “Gone out on the town covered in feathers?!” He shook his brother’s form.

Roman brought up a foot and kicked him off. “Take several steps off, Remus!” He snapped, and then winced at his own high pitch. “Have a little class!” He rubbed at his eyes before looking up to catch his twin making lewd gestures.

“Getting whipped by a parakeet! That’s what you are! Come on, Roman, we never hang out anymore! When was the last time we set fire to a dairy farm or unscrewed the color covers on a traffic light?”

“We never did those things.”

“Oh right, that was a dream I had last week.” He tugged an eyebrow. “But we could still do it!”

“I already have plans for this evening, Remus. The first of which now requires stealing nanobots capable of repairing internal contusions!”

Remus pouted. “Oh, poo.” He tapped a finger against his side and something clicked open on his hip.

Roman pushed himself up, more than aware of Remus’ hallucinogenic proclivities and not at all keen to experience them. “You’ll get over it, you rancid swordfish. We have literal decades to do… whatever demented chores your mind conjures up!” He stumbled backwards towards the door with as convincing a smile as he could manage. “Surely one more night won’t kill you!”

“Might kill you though.” Remus muttered.

“What?”

“…I’ll see you next weekend.” He’d just gotten the door unlocked, when he was darted in the back. “Ow! Mother of Hell, Remus!” He wrenched the needle out and stared down at what little yellow liquid was left in the vial. Wait, yellow? “Shit.”

Remus wasn’t so much grinning as he was cracking his face in half. “DeeDee said you might not be too keen on hanging out, so he offered a compromise.”

And now there were two of him, that wasn’t right. “Don’ think that means what you think it does…”

“You’ll get over it, right? Literal decades to do whatever chores I come up with?”

Echoing. Not good. Getting dizzy. Exit plan Alpha. “Remus,” Roman’s smirk was just his side of warped. “Why ya gotta be so Ruuude?~”

—————————————————————–

Virgil would like to be able to tell his friends and family that he got a good night’s sleep and was just shocked awake by a repetitive knocking on his wall. Unfortunately, he’d been awake and watching “Serial Killer Files” online when, what he eventually thought was, a large bird rammed into his window and rolled down his roof.

His first thought for the culprit was Mothman. In his defense, he hadn’t slept in over 18 hours and had a higher than healthy amount of Monster in his system.

Nevertheless, something big was on his lawn now and his heroic instincts demanded he try to help… or at the very least move it somewhere it could die with dignity.

However, he very nearly changed his mind when he saw who it was. The dastardly prince had somehow found his home and was sprawled over his porch step. His face was pinched with pain and that was hardly the last of it. Virgil glanced to his neighbors on either side, thankfully unaware of the crash.

Princey groaned and against his worse judgement, the Seraph pulled his enemy into the house. “This better be a real emergency.” He turned the man on his side in the entryway and closed the door. “Okay, no commentary or I use peroxide.” He muttered to the half-aware villain.

He didn’t see the easy nod when he stood and ran to the kitchen. The supplies in his home weren’t as good as headquarters, but they’d do for the time being.

He paused, what was the protocol for this? A known threat to the city had found his house. How did he find his house? Virgil was never drunk enough to let that slip, he made sure of it! “Ugh, the minute he’s not bleeding on the carpet…” He compromised with himself, already kneeling next to the Prince again.

“Any trips or traps I should know about?” He asked, turning his charge gingerly onto his back.

A shake of the head. “You must be in bad shape if you’re not talking.” Virgil carefully slipped off the layers of padded cloth, laying a blanket over his patient’s lower half for modesty. Most of it seemed superficial, though he did have a disconcertingly dark bruise on his side and abrasions lining his legs. Virgil set to work.

“Are you…? Well, obviously, you’re not okay, but-” Nothing but steady breathing and staring. Virgil stilled. “Okay, I know what I said before, but you’re freaking me out. Talk to me. Are you in pain?”

“Hurts a little bit.” Virgil sighed in relief at hearing his voice. “Dizzy.”

“What happened to you?”

“Hit by a truck.”

…Unexpected. “Your bike didn’t see that one coming?”

“Maggie was off.” The prince raised a hand and flapped it slowly back and forth, bizarrely fixated on it.

“You named it-? Ugh, why am I even asking?” Virgil pasted down the last bit of gauze.

“Cause you’re curious.” His floaty hand tapped the one Virgil was still using to hold pressure.

“Can you tell me who did this?” Virgil questioned, unfortunately used to the man’s weird, touchy nature.

“The Duke.” He grumbled, eyes firmly on their hands.

Virgil was confused, the name seemed familiar, but he was usually fighting Princey and Logan’s patrols ran deeper underground than his. “Who’s that?” The man’s teeth clacked with how fast he closed his mouth, lips pulling down into a tight line. “Don’t be difficult now. Otherwise I can’t help.”

“M’brother.”

Now Virgil was confused and very freaked out. He blinked hard, trying to process all of the things wrong with what he just heard. “Are you concussed or something?”

“Nooooo.” He whined. “’M drugged, you silly birb.”

“That’s better?” Virgil hooked his arms around the villain and started to heft him upstairs.

The prince rubbed his arm thoughtfully. “Maybe.” He squinted at his rescuer. “Where’s your feathers?”

Virgil only just realized how dressed down he was compared to their typical interactions. “They’re not always visible, I have to live some kind normal life, right?”

“No, you don’t.” It was a surprisingly serious statement for how he had been acting. But Virgil had heard similar comments from him before, usually followed by rhetoric on power and the freedom it offered. A lot of times it was hard to tell what was just repeated and what was true to the Prince.

“Table that discussion for when you’re not loopy.” He stepped into the guest room at the top of the steps and lay the man on the bed. “Was your brother the one who made the drug?”

“No. His friend.” Virgil waited for any other information, but none was volunteered.

Then he had a thought. “What’s your name?”

His foe smiled in the same dreamy fashion. “Dazzling Prince.”

“Tell me your real name.”

His face pinched again, but Virgil’s suspicions were confirmed when he let slip: “Roman.”

“I think whatever you were dosed with makes you susceptible to suggestion.”

Roman kept up the mopey expression, eyes now slightly clouded. “Guess so.”

“Sorry. I didn’t want to accidentally make you move and agitate your injuries, but by the time I thought to ask a question that was the only one I could think of and it felt like the silence was getting awkward, so it just kind of fell out, and by that point it was too late to back pedal.” Virgil rambled out in one breath.

And with that Roman huffed what might have been a laugh under better circumstances. “Guess that’s fine then. Needed a reason to go full supervillain anyway. Might as well make it a petty one.”

“What? No! Don’t do-” Virgil cut himself off, remembering the predicament they were both in. He looked away, glaring at the floor. Roman rubbed his arm with a sloppy smirk.

“You’re too good.”

“For you? Obviously.”

“In general. You’re soft on a lot of crooks.” He leaned back into the bed, eyes drooping. “I’ve noticed how you act to the cops when you hand us over, Softy Seraph.”

“Few crimes are committed by hardened criminals. A lot of them just need help.” After all, where would he be without Patton?

“Sounds fake, but go off I guess.” He mumbled.

The hero sat at the edge of the bed. “You’re making it hard not to throw you out.”

Roman closed his eyes, seemingly content to let Virgil have the final say.

At least that’s what he thought before a foot prodded his back, almost exactly where his wings were painted. Virgil turned to tell him off when he heard the humming.

And saw the room sparkling. Little balls of light, opaque and floating, spawned around his room in time with specific notes in the song. Roman directing their appearance without looking, extending a pinky one direction and then his index finger another. They would follow his lines, streaking like stars and for once, completely harmless in action.

He took a breath. “Cherry lips, crystal skies. I could show you incredible things. Stolen kisses, pretty lies. You’re the queen, baby, I’m your king. Find out what you want, be that boy for a month, wait the worst is yet to come.~”

Virgil grimaced. “Oh, no.”

Roman grinned at the commentary, but didn’t stop. “Screaming, crying, perfect storms. I can make all the tables turn. Rose garden filled with thorns, keep you second-guessing like: “Oh my God, who is he?” I get drunk on jealousy, but I’ll come back each time I leave. ‘Cause darling you’re a nightmare dressed like a daydream.~”

“I’ll smother you with a pillow.”

“Doubt it. I’ve got a blank space, baby. And I’ll write your name.~” He slid in, quieter than before. His eyelids cracked opened the barest bit, hands still outstretched to maintain the glowing orbs. “You’re really pretty when you multiply by the way.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “How many of me do you actually see?”

“Three.” He dropped his arms and the lights dimmed away, leaving spots in the hero’s vision where they were. “Four, if you count the outline.”

“Outline?”

Roman gestured at him vaguely. “The sparkles hiding your wings, they make up your shape.”

“What are you talking about?” Virgil sputtered, resisting the urge to glance around at whatever figment Roman’s mind conjured. “Can you actually see my wings?” Had he always seen them? “Answer me.”

Roman blinked a few times, getting drowsy. He hummed noncommittedly. That floaty feeling was coming back threefold without the adrenaline, and every other word started to reverb. There was a snap near his face.

“Hey, focus, Princey.”

It was like falling asleep when you’d been trying to stay up on spite and caffeine. Something pressing down and disconnecting him from reality. It wasn’t awful, almost the opposite in fact, but he wasn’t super excited about what it took to get there. Fighting was easier without orders, but Seraph seemed slow on that uptake.

Roman locked eyes with Virgil, completely under his sway and only distantly aware of it. Virgil sighed in agitation. Just looking at the prince proved he’d screwed up again. His pupils were totally blown and unfocused. He tugged his hair in frustration. “Dammit, why do you always do this to me?!”

He curled over the edge of the bed, trying to regain a sense of calm. Stupid energy drinks. Virgil was totally out of depth with this one. The villain beside him was slowly sinking into the sheets and Virgil found himself questioning how regularly he got the chance to sleep.

Resigning himself to postponing his planned night of horror for a different one, Virgil carefully maneuvered the man under the comforter and then left to change into pajamas. He couldn’t exactly leave the man unsupervised in his house anyway.

He found himself humming a half-remembered tune as he brushed his teeth, keeping an ear trained on the room. Almost unthinkingly, he laid out an unopened toothbrush and paste.

“…Break all the rules, slippin’, runnin’ hot, baby ‘cause we’re dynamite. Gonna let the world…”

Walking in again he saw Roman had slid himself lower into the bedding, nose barely visible and hair tossed across the pillow. Virgil propped himself against the headboard, on top of the comforter, but a quilt tucked around his legs. He closed his eyes, resting, not sleeping. Not with the Prince next to him.

Roman’s breaths rumbled slow and deep in his chest. It was so weirdly rhythmic, Virgil had to wonder if it was a side effect of his powers. “You could do more you know.” He whispered to the room. Not for the first time, the idea of simply telling his enemy to give up his criminal ways while he was primed crossed his mind.

Instead, he took a heavy breath, crossed his arms and hunched over in a light doze.

Downstairs, Virgil’s hero-line phone buzzed with a delayed text from the man he saved.

#TSS #Sanders Sides #Virgil Sanders #Roman Sanders #Superhero AU #Prinxiety #TW: Drugging #TW: Mind Manipulation #TW: Injury #Remus Sanders

24 notes · View notes

tuaparadis · 5 years

Text

Tag, You’re It

– Umbrella Academy one-shot | Dave x Klaus – Summary: Dating in Vietnam was never easy. Klaus and Dave have to watch out for everything, but thankfully they know their way around the system. Things escalate quickly and the only witness is the moon. – Notes: I had this idea that popped in my head about Klaus and Dave switching their dog tags as an alternative to wedding rings, and it slowly escalated from there. I hope you enjoy! – Word Count: 11K+ – Warnings: Spoilers, Implied Sexual Intercourse, Gore I recommend reading this on AO3, it’s probably better for your eyes. ___

It had been a total of 5 months since Klaus landed in good ol’ Nam only wearing a bloody towel and his coat, clutching a neat black briefcase to his chest, and oh boy, has it been one hell of a roller coaster. Not like a lot of roller coasters existed back in the ’60s anyway. It was weird for dear old Klaus’ case, however. Despite having to hold a gun close to his chest just to make sure he made it back to camp alive, drenched in sweat, mud, and shit, despite not having easy access to drugs, despite how terrifying it was, how he knew that one day he could easily be shot due to the lack of the necessary training but being forced in the army anyway, he still preferred it over the academy in a way.

Because at least here, in Vietnam, he actually mattered to someone who wasn’t his dead brother. Someone actually gave a shit about his well-being and didn’t scold him for all his bullshit.

Dave.

Dave cared. Dave loved Klaus and despite how crazy it was, he had always been there from day one to help him out. It was nice, having someone around who actually meant what they said. They quickly became close friends and no sooner had two months passed than it turned into something more, which kind of surprised both of them. Well, to be fair, Klaus did kind of have his eye on him ever since he saw him in his cot when he first showed up. It was kind of silly, how he literally stayed because he found a pretty boy in the Vietnam fucking war. Out of all the insane last-minute decisions he’s made, this one took the cake. What he didn’t expect was how Dave actually returned those feelings and Klaus honestly couldn’t have been happier. Whenever the soldier was around, all his worries went away just like that, as if God had snapped her fingers.

Of course, they had to watch out for… everything, really. They couldn’t just be out in public, holding hands like the two cute little soldiers they were. They almost never got the chance to talk to each other in private and had to act like friends and nothing more in front of everybody else. At least they could always sit next to each other in the bus or when they and their comrades were playing cards, around the campfire or inside their tents. They were together all the time and nobody could possibly separate them, hell, even their friends would joke about them always touching knees while sitting next to one another. It’s not like they could judge them though, everybody had different coping mechanisms about the whole war. That’s what everyone thought the whole never leaving each other’s side thing was about, which was true technically.

So yeah, Dave and Klaus never got alone time together. Which, really sucked, to say the least. The only times they could actually spend together without raising eyebrows was when all the soldiers were sent to town for a couple of days. That was pretty much how Klaus and Dave got together in the first place. God, that was such a good time. The R&R wasn’t a weekly thing though, sadly.

If they could only share a kiss once every few months, their heads would have exploded by now.

Thank the lord they found a loophole a few months ago. Turns out their good ol’ friend Conny had figured out the two had a thing from the start. You seriously thought nobody knew? It’s so obvious! He said he didn’t have a problem with gay people and wouldn’t tell on them. What’s even better was that he was on watch every Wednesday night and would turn a blind eye if they snuck out to do what God forbid or whatever.

“What’s so bad about gay people anyway? It’s not like they hurt anyone. And yeah, you guys probably want to spend time together. Can’t really argue with that, so you can go out there and do whatever, I don’t care. Just come back alive and don’t wake anyone up.”

God bless him.

So, every Wednesday, with Conny on watch, the two would get out of their tent and quietly run away from camp where their favorite spot next to a lake waited for them. As much as they wanted to be away from everybody, it was much too dangerous to escape further into the jungle at a time like this without a squad, but at least it was far enough so nobody could see or hear them.

And that’s where they were, laying on their backs and holding each other’s hand like their lives depended on it.

Because they did.

And Klaus could only think back to all the times Dave was this close to him.

___

A Friday and a weekend for all the soldiers to do whatever the fuck they wanted. Some soldiers managed on the hope alone of going back to their families after the slim chance of winning the war. And those with no family or dreams had, well, those three days. It was the only way to keep them entertained and to lift their spirits knowing they could die tomorrow.

Klaus was no stranger to a little bit of fun. Back in 2019, it was everyday life for him, but after what he went through over the past two months of serving, boy, was he looking forward to those days too.

It didn’t matter if he knew they lost the war in the end, these three days would save him from the jungle. Three days of not having to worry about a leaf moving behind him, his uniform from practically being stuck to his skin from sweat and mud, his scabs and scars from a few weeks back starting to bleed again out of nowhere thanks to the lightest of a scratch against the branches he would push out of his way. Three days of being able to drink something that wasn’t muddy water, or eat something other than conserved food, not to mention being able to take something more than military go pills.

Three days of bliss. Three days of relaxation, music and probably sex. Sounds like a fun time, pop a pill or two and he’d be good to go. And Dave! How could he forget about Dave?

To be fair it’s not like they were dating or anything of the sort. But Klaus was really into him and Dave definitely felt something for him back. Klaus would drag his fingers across his arm to easily turn the soldier bright red from embarrassment in seconds, they almost had a moment too when Dave comforted him after waking up from a bad dream.

But that’s a story for another time.

Hardly an hour had passed after the bus pulled up to Saigon and everyone was already looking for a place to eat, or booking a room in one of those shitty motels, or getting drunk off their minds. It was easy to guess where Klaus was.

Not exactly what he had hoped for, but him, Dave, and two of their friends, Murphy and Sean, decided they all should go to the biggest bar they could find to celebrate being alive that day, maybe find some girls to sleep with as a bonus. Them all going together didn’t necessarily mean they wanted to talk about anything, figured the alcohol would do its work and they’d be suddenly laughing at nothing. And that’s what happened.

Only a few drinks in and everybody was drunk as a skunk, sooner or later Sean and Murphy got lost in a sea of people in the bar as everybody was up and dancing. Klaus and Dave were chugging down whatever it was that was in their shot glasses, going back on the dance floor and bumping into each other like toddlers, then more alcohol, the burning down his throat was much too familiar to Klaus, and then back on their feet and repeat.

Dave led Klaus a little further from everybody else, in the back of the bar where the door that was previously there was replaced by beaded curtains. Drinks still in their hands and dorky smiles on their faces, they stared at each other.

“This is fucking great,” Dave breathed out with a chuckle, looking at the ceiling, then back down at his drink and then turning to face Klaus again. “You’re a lot of fun, Klaus.”

“Ahh, you know it, Davey.” Klaus leaned his head against the wall, making circular motions with the hand he was holding his drink with, mixing it. He wasn’t as drunk as the actual mess he could have been at a time like this, or as wasted as Dave right there, but he was still pretty out of his mind. When wasn’t he?

“Y’know-” Dave started. “Your eyes are a labyrinth.”

Klaus grinned, tossing his head back as he straight up inhaled what was left in his glass. “Oh yeah? How so?”

“Every time I look at you I get lost in them.”

Wow. He really went for it.

It caught Klaus off guard nonetheless, the smile never leaving his face. He didn’t really think Dave would be a pick-up line kind of guy. Especially him, who would just get flustered every time Klaus teased him about something. Maybe it was just the alcohol talking. Yeah, maybe that was it. “I think I’m just gonna take that gin off your hands,” Klaus replied, still grinning lively, kind of avoiding the answer the other male gave to him and reaching out of for Dave’s glass.

“No, seriously.” Dave looked at him in the eyes more intensely than before, if that was possible. “Your eyes are really beautiful. You are- really beautiful, Klaus,” he mumbled, his words interrupted by a hiccup mid-sentence. It was obvious it wasn’t just the alcohol, though.

Klaus could feel the air getting a little bit hotter, he was sure Dave felt it too. A compliment? He hadn’t gotten a genuine compliment from anybody before, only the fake ones in the heat of the moment from the people giving him a fun time when he needed money for a place to sleep in, or drugs. It was always one of the two, never food or anything else. Did he mention he was a drug addict? And a sex addict? And yeah, the air was definitely getting a little bit hotter. Was it because of random memories coming back to him, or was it, Dave? He couldn’t tell. Can someone turn on the fan, please?

“I don’t want to hurt you, Davey,” Klaus said looking away from Dave, despite how much he wanted to keep looking at him and appreciate every single detail there was to him and his stupidly beautiful face. “I’m insane.”

Dave reached out with his free hand, gently cupping Klaus’ cheek and leading his eyes back to him. He was smiling.

“Maybe I’m insane too.”

Their lips met.

Dave kissed him. He wanted to pull away before he lost himself in his grip, but he couldn’t. Klaus had been waiting for this moment for what, two months now? And it felt right, god , it felt so right. They soon closed the gap between them, the slightly taller man pinning Klaus against the wall they were previously leaning on. It was a slow, but passionate kiss and their lips barely stopped touching.

Dave could taste it all. The gin, the Jack Rose they had earlier, the cigarettes, everything. Klaus tasted so good; he loved it. He had already dropped his shot glass and slithered his hand around Klaus’ waist, holding him closer as they fell deeper into the kiss. As much as Dave wanted to keep him there under him and kiss him senseless, they were in the corner of a public bar and who knew if they’d been seen by someone already. He pulled away slightly, far away enough to be able to speak but close enough to feel Klaus’ shaky breath on his lips.

“Let’s get outta here, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Next thing they knew, they were paying for a room in one of those shitty hotels, two beds please, as if they were really planning on using both.

Everyone knows what happened that night.

Seriously, they were so loud, possibly everyone on the same floor heard them, not like they could possibly give another fuck. They wanted this, they needed this. It was only right, just like the kiss.

___

Klaus’ back was against Dave’s chest, the sheets covering them from their hips all the way down to their feet. They sure gave each other a workout earlier, to say the least. Klaus finally managed to get a good night’s rest, away from the reek of death like back in the jungle. Or so he thought.

A few hours of peaceful sleep was all he wanted, but of course, the ghosts wouldn’t let him off that easy. Klaus’ blood started to run cold, images of them flashing in the back of his head. And no sooner had the nightmare started than he was back in that place. Back in the mausoleum.

People, covered in blood and guts, clothes ripped, glass and knives sticking out of their bodies as they screamed his name repeatedly. Small children letting out ugly sobs and searching for their parents, not understanding what’s going on. They probably didn’t even know they were already dead. A middle-aged man with his eyes gouged out and his fingernails ripped off, an old lady with half her face burnt off, the list of disgusting things he had seen there went on. And they were all coming back for him, in his dream. They never went away.

“Klaus.” Shut up.

“Klaus help us.” Shut up shut up shut up. “Klaus... KLAUS!”

Stop it.

“Bitte um Hilfe!” “помоги!” Stop. Please. “KLAUS-”

“Stop saying my NAME-”

Screaming bloody murder, he sat up suddenly, his eyes as wide as the sky, filled with pure terror, as tears started streaming down his face. His hyperventilating and previous scream was enough to wake Dave up in a matter of seconds.

“..Klaus?”

Dave’s eyes could barely be held open, but he forced himself awake for Klaus anyway. He sat up with a groan, wrapping his arms around Klaus’ waist slowly, not wanting to scare him with the sudden touch. It wasn’t unusual for Klaus to wake up screaming in the middle of the night, or for anyone else, really. It had happened countless times before, and Klaus always managed to wake everybody else in their tent up as well. That was one of the reasons Klaus changed tents a few times, he kept getting complaints and the others just wanted to sleep peacefully for once. He really couldn’t argue with that. At least he ended up in the tent Dave’s cot was again.

Everyone had their own fucked up shit to deal with, it’s not like they could scold Klaus for having nightmares, he wasn’t the only one with that problem. His case was a little bit different though. Everybody assumed he was mental or something, always zoning out in the middle of conversations just to stare at a random direction wearing a face of disgust and terror. Not to mention he just showed up out of the blue one night, covered in blood and only wearing a towel.

Klaus tried to catch his breath, gulping down the saliva building in the back of his throat, as he lay back down with Dave on the bed, turning on his side, his arms still around him. “Klaus, it’s okay... I’m here. It’s okay, you’re okay,” Dave kept whispering comforting words in his ear, peppering his neck and shoulder blade with kisses to calm him down. Klaus practically clawed on Dave’s arms, not turning to face him yet. “Hey... Look at me.”

Klaus slowly turned to the side to face the man in front of him, trying to keep sobs from escaping his throat. “It’s okay. You’re safe,” Dave whispered, a sympathetic look on his eyes.

“You can let them out.”

And he did. Klaus started sobbing as soon as those words came out of his mouth, burying his face in Dave’s neck. He didn’t care how ugly his cries sounded, he couldn’t take it anymore. All Dave could do was hold him and brush his hand through his hair softly, telling him it was going to be okay and repeating himself to let Klaus know he meant it. They spent the next couple of minutes like that, holding onto each other tightly until Klaus wasn’t as tense and was finally able to breathe properly.

Dave brushed his hand against his cheek, pulling his head up to kiss him on the lips quickly. “Do you want to talk about it?” Dave asked as softly as he could. Klaus sighed, closing his eyes and resting his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder before mumbling something like Not much to talk about, Davey , ready to fall asleep in that position.

“You don’t have to shut me out like everybody else, Klaus. You know I’m here for you.” And it’s true, all Dave had been was understanding, patient. He never judged Klaus for anything, and only wanted to help him. He cared.

Well, I was adopted by a billionaire along with 6 other kids and I have superpowers that allow me to see and talk to the dead. The scowl I call dad would lock me up in a mausoleum around 17 years ago, did I mention I’m from the future and I came here using a time-traveling briefcase? Yeah, that wouldn’t really work. As much as Klaus hated not telling Dave the whole truth about him, he was sure he would scare him off if he led with that. It was too soon, much too soon.

“I see things.”

That would work for now. “I... I see things that aren’t there. Kind of like hallucinations but they’re so real. They’re so real and no matter what I do I always see them.” Klaus didn’t say anything about it being an actual power, that would have been a tough one to explain and he certainly wasn’t in the mood for unpacking all of that. He didn’t realize he had started crying again until Dave pulled him closer to his chest, no signs of letting go.

“I’ve got you. I won’t let them near you while I’m here. I won’t let them hurt you.”

“..Promise?”

“Yeah. Promise.”

Klaus gave him a sad smile, getting comfortable in his embrace as he shivered slightly, trying to fall back asleep but Dave noticed Klaus’ hesitation. Back in the tents, Klaus would always stare outside from the creak of the door flap when there was a campfire outside. His nightmares didn’t get him when he did that. Then it hit him.

“Do you want me to keep the lights on?” He asked in his gentle voice, pushing the hair out of Klaus’ face. He responded with a simple nod, nuzzling closer and trying to take as much body heat from Dave as he could. Dave, wanting to make sure nothing would keep Klaus from sleeping again, turned on the small lamp that was on the nightstand to light the room up just slightly. A few minutes later, with only each other in their arms, they drifted back to sleep.

___

“So... hit me if I’m wrong, but you and your siblings have superpowers?”

It was Klaus’ third month in Vietnam, about one month since he and Dave started dating. Klaus really didn’t expect to open up about himself and his family, especially to somebody he hadn’t known for that long, but it had already been his longest relationship this far and Dave somehow managed to get him to talk.

“Yup! Adopted siblings, might I add.”

It was hard to describe what Dave was thinking by the expression he was wearing. It was a look of genuine confusion, but that didn’t stop him from asking questions. “Right, you and- how many siblings did you say you have?”

“Six! Four brothers and two sisters.” They were sitting in their usual spot next to the lake, the shining stars being the only source of light that allowed them to look at each other. It wasn’t really as dark as it normally was, so that was a plus.

“Four brothers and two- Right, right. Okay.” Dave pursed his lips for a moment, before opening his mouth to ask another question. Did he believe Klaus? Did he genuinely think he was being truthful? He honestly didn’t know himself, but Dave knew they wouldn’t just lie to one another. “And you can talk to the dead?”

“Mhm,” Klaus hummed in response, clicking his tongue about to add something to it. “Well, they kind of talk to me, if you’d like. They don’t have an on and off switch, that’s if you don’t count the drugs.” He snickered, looking up in the sky, using his arms as a stand.

“... Do you also see like, demons? Or is that not a thing?”

So, Dave was one curious little cat with a whole fantasy in his head. Who knew! “Judging by how ugly some of them are, they might as well be. So, yeah, I guess?” Klaus turned to look at Dave, a dorky smile on his face that didn’t really look as genuine as before.

There was a pause from both of them there. Dave moved a little bit closer to him, keeping his voice down as if he was scared that someone would hear. They were all alone though! In this huge, empty, dark space where nobody could find them. Maybe he thought the ghosts would hear him?

“Have you ever seen like... the devil?”

Klaus let out a dramatic gasp, turning his head at the night sky and then back at him. “My my Davey! Aren’t you full of questions?” He giggled, fixing his pose so they could look at each other better. “Yeah. I have.”

“Wait. Seriously?” Dave’s eyes widened, kind of like those models when they won a competition in fake reality shows.

Klaus brought a lighter to his mouth to light the cigarette that was hanging from his lips. “Yeah, ‘m telling you. My brothers and sisters could see him too.” He took a long drag, inhaling all the chemicals like they were nothing, took it out of his mouth and let it hang on his fingertips.

“Growing up we called him Dad.”

Dave shut up and looked at the ground, not sure what he was supposed to say. He probably just reminded Klaus some horrible childhood memories and it was entirely his fault or being too curious. Curiosity really did the kill the cat after all.

“What’s the matter, Davey?” Klaus placed his hand on Dave’s thigh to grab his attention. “Don’t feel bad for me. Yeah, my dad was a sadistic prick but that shouldn’t stop you from asking more questions if you have any.” He gave him a genuine smile this time, bringing the cigarette to his lips again.

He couldn’t help himself, he just had to ask. “Are there any here right now?”

Klaus scooted closer to him, passing him the cigarette which he gladly accepted. “Nah. They go away when I’m with you most of the time. They can’t do anything to me when you’re here. Just like you promised!” He exclaimed, booping his boyfriend on the nose.

Dave couldn’t help but chuckle and look into his eyes while bringing their hands up to his lips and kissing the back of Klaus’ hand sweetly. Those innocent little kisses were what drove Klaus crazy, considering he had never had those by any of his ex-lovers before. “Can you promise me something?”

“Mmyes, darling?”

“Stay sober.” That was the last Klaus was expecting to hear from him.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, almost forming a childish pout. Did he really blame him for asking that though?

“I know you said the drugs help keep the dead at bay, but I’m here and I won’t ever leave your side. I won’t let them hurt you,” Dave tried to explain himself better. “You don’t have to keep putting that stuff in your system. I like it when you’re sober after all, and you should too.”

Klaus sighed deeply, taking a moment to reply. “Well, I guess if you actually help in keeping them away then... Then I guess there’s nothing to worry about.” He took the cigarette from Dave’s hand to take another drag. “Okay. For you, I guess.”

Would he really be able to stop taking drugs completely just because Dave asked him to do so? He doubted it. But one thing he knew was that he had never ever felt this way about someone before, he knew Dave was special from the start. And no matter how much withdrawal sucked, no matter how hard it was going to be for him and no matter how much craving he would have to go through, he knew he’d try.

___

Dave was a great listener and a very good advisor. He would sit down and listen to what Klaus had to say and try to help him as best as he possibly could. He was never the one to talk about his own problems, though. It’d been about a month ever since he had found out about Klaus’ powers and family and he just wanted to be there for him and him only. He was always the one to listen. It wasn’t Klaus’ fault at all, it was all his. He just chose not to talk about things concerning him, he much preferred listening to Klaus babble about his childhood than him sharing things from his own.

It wasn’t because he was traumatized about his younger years like Klaus was, he just didn’t think much of them and considered them unimportant.

However, that’s not how Klaus felt. So there they were, in their usual spot, Klaus begging him to share at least something about his childhood. “Come ooon, Baby Dave must have made all the other mommies jealous n’ Mama Dave must’ve been super proud of you!”

“Eh, I wouldn’t count on it,” Dave replied, sitting up from the grass and letting his hands fall on his lap.

“Eh? Why not?” Klaus copied Dave, sitting up next to him and looking at him like a lost puppy.

“There’s not much to say, honestly. It’s just-” He interrupted himself with a sigh. “My childhood wasn’t great. It wasn’t bad or anything compared to yours, - no offense - it was just, sad, I guess?”

“Oh? Do tell.” Klaus bumped into his shoulder playfully, trying to keep the negative atmosphere away. Dave exhaled deeply, childhood memories coming back to him slowly.

“I’ll be honest with you when I say I don’t remember all that much. I lived with my mom and sister in a small cottage just outside of town, in a relatively quiet neighborhood. Everyone was pretty great, actually. We never really had trouble with anyone, except my dad.” Dave sighed, shaking his head to himself.

“My mom kicked him out of the house when I was six, she found out he was cheating and the only memory of my dad is him yelling at my mom right before he left us forever basically. I can’t just shit on my dad though, he was actually the one that cared about us. My mom- she wasn’t really the loving mother you’d expect. She was just someone who would cook us food, wash our clothes, take us to school and put us to bed. No matter how hard we tried to get her attention, it was like she wasn’t interested.”

He hadn’t realized but he was gripping Klaus’ hand way too tightly. Klaus hadn’t said anything about it though, whatever made Dave feel better, even though it was starting to hurt a little. “When I realized I was gay, I figured I was going to keep it to myself forever, since, y’ know, you don’t come out unless you have a death wish or something. I was only 14 then, and my mom already wanted to find me a nice girl from the neighborhood.” Dave mumbled something after that, but Klaus didn’t catch what it was.

“It was the only thing she cared about that had to do with me. And yeah, as I said everyone in our neighborhood was great. I was always surrounded by people but I never really felt like I linked with them in any way. I didn’t care about them, I wasn’t friends with them, I was just there.”

Dave kept going on about things he never thought he would talk about, and it turned out his childhood wasn’t perfect either. He didn’t really have anyone to confide in throughout his years, and that’s why joining the army was always something he was interested in. It was a way for him to leave everything behind and start over.

In other words, his childhood wasn’t horrible nor was he mentally abused, but it was painful in a different way. Dave wasn’t alone, he was lonely.

“And then when I finally joined the army, I actually made some good friends. Murphy and Sean were the first to ever talk to me. Soon I was creating friendships and everyone could confide in me. I could trust everyone in my squad with my life. Didn’t mean my depression stopped growing after that.” Klaus looked at the ground, quietly listening to Dave’s rambling even though they got way past the childhood part. “But then you showed up.”

He really has a way with words like that, doesn’t he? “I don’t know how you do it, Hargreeves, but all my worries just go away whenever I’m with you.” Dave let go of Klaus’ hand after holding and squeezing it so long, planting a kiss on his hair.

“Same goes for you, baby,” Klaus answered with a big smile, appreciating the affection he was getting.

“Klaus.”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

There was silence. Was that the first time one of them had used the L word? It had been two whole months since they started dating, they had to have said it before at least once. Yet, they hadn’t. Dating someone for so long they actually cared about had been new to both of them, maybe that was why.

The lack of conversation made Dave’s heart stopped for a moment. Did he just fuck it all up? Did he scare Klaus away already? “... I’m sorry I don’t know what I was-”

“I love you too, Davey.”

___

Klaus and Dave were laying on the grass with their backs, holding hands, neither of them saying anything. It wasn’t unusual for them to do that, sometimes they just wanted to take in the nature around them and appreciate these rare moments of them being able to sit like this in silence.

“Weird, no stars tonight,” Dave broke the silence, squeezing Klaus’ hand slightly, motioning for him to look at him.

“They wanted to make room for the biggest one, of course,” He explained with a smile, squeezing his hand back and looking at his boyfriend in the eyes.

“Oh yeah? And which one is that?”

Klaus turned back to look at the night sky, giggling under his breath before having the chance to say anything. “I would have said me, but nah. I’m talking about the moon!” He pointed at the satellite hovering above them and once more turning to Dave. Its reflected light made his sea blue eyes shine beautifully.

“Is the moon even a star?” The slightly bigger man asked Klaus, trying not to chuckle at his poker face. Klaus only shrugged in response, the smile never leaving his face.

“Probably not. Guess the room was for me after all~”

Snickers and giggles filled the air, as they scooted closer to one another, Klaus resting his head on Dave’s shoulder. “I wonder what the world looks like from up there.” Dave sighed, not taking his eyes off the planetoid.

“Luther would know.”

He turned to the man on his shoulder in question. “Ain’t that the big guy?” He used his hand as a stand for his head as he turned to his side a little bit, trying to look at Klaus better.

“Yeah,” he replied, clinging closer to him and trying to get comfortable with Dave’s new position. “He used to live up there,” Klaus added after his monosyllabic reply all casual as if going on the moon something completely normal for that time.

“On the moon?” Dave furrowed his eyebrows, putting words to his confused expression. Klaus nodded almost immediately, still trying to find a better position to lay in.

“Yeah, four years.” He put his hand behind his head, letting out a satisfied sigh and relaxing his muscles. “I bet it’s quiet... If I were him I probably would have stayed,” Klaus voiced, a pained smile on his face this time. Dave frowned at that, analyzing Klaus’ expression but Klaus was already turning his face to a random direction, but not looking at something in particular. “Klaus?”

Dave rubbed the back of Klaus’ hand with his thumb gently. “Mm?”

“Do you miss them?”

That caught Klaus’ attention, forcing himself to snap his head back at Dave and not zone out again. “What?”

“Your brothers and sisters. Do you miss them?”

He noticed Klaus’ silence. “You talk about them all the time,” Dave added, trying to further explain himself better and hoping he hadn’t said anything he wasn’t supposed to.

Klaus sighed, biting the inside of lip afterward. “I... I guess I miss them, yeah. I mean they were all assholes , but then so am I.” Dave couldn’t help but frown again at his reply.

“Were? Are they-?” Not around anymore? Dead? A lot of the things he had heard about his siblings all led to that conclusion. Was that a touchy subject he probably shouldn’t have brought up?

“Hmm? Wh-” It took Klaus a second to realize what Dave was trying to ask. “Oh nonono, they’re not dead... Not all of them anyway.”

“Ben, was it?”

A simple nod was enough for Dave to stop talking. He knew Ben’s death really affected Klaus even though they apparently weren’t as close as kids. How did he die? Could Klaus see him? Did he and Klaus start talking to each other after he died? What was his power? He always wanted to ask more questions about Ben but completely respected Klaus’ decision not to talk about him, and he was going to be there for him when he was ready to open up.

Dave’s thoughts were interrupted by Klaus starting to talk again. “We just don’t talk to each other anymore. Everyone’s got it all figured out and I’m, well... I’m here.” He chuckled sadly, gripping his lover’s hand again. “I don’t really think they miss me though, nobody does. I don’t blame them for that.” He sighed, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “I wouldn’t miss me.”

The words hit Dave, almost sickening him. How could Klaus talk about himself like that? He opened his mouth, ready to say something, however, it took him a moment to recollect his thoughts. “I’d miss you,” he finally said, pursing his lips and turning to look his lover in the eye. “If anything happened to you I don’t know what I would do.

I don’t miss her. My mom, I mean. But hell, I miss being close to you even though you’re right next to me and holding my hand,” he kept adding on, as Klaus crawled closer to him. Dave wasted no time and immediately wrapped his arms around his waist, burying his face in his chest to listen to his heartbeat.

“Please be nicer to yourself.” The words were barely heard, Dave’s face too busy being buried in Klaus’ shirt. Klaus held Dave’s head in place as he continued listening to his heart beating at a slow pace.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, alright Davey?” Klaus said after a few minutes of silence, moving a little bit to make sure he hadn’t actually fallen asleep, only to get a lazy moan in return.

“Mmmhh... but you’re soo comfyyyy...”

Klaus clicked his tongue, smiling like a dork nonetheless. “I don’t wanna have to carry you back to camp. Hell, I’m not sure I can.” He moved from side to side, trying to push the sleeping beast off him and causing Dave to groan loudly in annoyance. “That ticklessss, stop.” Klaus giggled.

“Mm, does it now?” Dave felt his lips form a mischievous smirk, as he moved his head lower.

“Wait wh-” He lifted Klaus’ shirt up just a bit as he started blowing raspberries into his stomach.

The giggles rolled out of him almost instantly, unable to breathe between them as Dave practically attacked him. Sooner or later tears were brought to his eyes from laughing so much, but Dave couldn’t help giving him a break.

Klaus’ voice was like music to his ears. Anyone could argue that his giggles sounded like a drunk literally choking, however, there was nobody else there to do so. And thank god they weren’t close to camp because everyone would have been woken up by Klaus screaming for him to stop while laughing uncontrollably.

“D-Dave stop!” He choked out in between his giggles, begging for mercy as he tried to push Dave off of him. His shoulders were shaking too much for him to put actual force, but he kept trying nonetheless. Dave was laughing as well, and he eventually stopped exhausting his boyfriend. That was for later.

“Let’s do something fun then!” he exclaimed, rolling off him and laying next to him, as the other man struggled to catch his breath.

“What’s with the- sudden change of heart?” he asked, his breathing still uneven, pulling his shirt down so he wouldn’t get cold after the torture he just went through. “I’m the one with the fun ideas around here!”

“I guess you’re rubbing off on me~” Dave cooed teasingly, poking Klaus’ nose before making a ‘boop’ sound.

Klaus moved his head down, scanning Dave like a grocery. “Challenge accepted,” he said with a smirk, grabbing Dave’s foot and sliding off the boot before he had the chance to react. He was so fast the now single booted soldier had to take a moment to analyze the situation.

“Wh- Klaus!”

But Klaus was already getting up, clumsily running away as Dave furrowed his eyebrows and quickly started running after him. “Klaus, give me my boot back!” he called out, though he couldn’t help but laugh as he chased him around. Klaus made an unexpected turn and ran straight into the lake, Dave could only do the same, and into the lake they went. After seconds of splashing around like little kids, Dave finally grabbed ahold of Klaus’ hand and dragged him to his direction. Klaus started splashing water at him, kicking and screaming and laughing while trying to escape his grip, but it was of no use. He eventually gave up.

“My boot, please,” Dave said, holding his free hand out as Klaus groaned in annoyance but a smile was planted on his face.

“You’re a big bully Davey!” He exclaimed, refusing to give back what wasn’t his. They were soaking wet from head to toe, their uniforms were going to take a while to dry without the sun hitting their backs.

“C’mon, we’re gonna catch a cold.” Dave swung his arm, motioning for them to get out of the lake.

Klaus pouted and let himself be taken by the water, laying on his back and giggling. “You’re no fun! I wanna stay here a bit.”

“Oh, I’m no fun?” Dave gave him a fake offended look before charging at him with no mercy. “C’mere you!” he yelled and Klaus started screaming and laughing like a small child again. They wrestled in the lake, Klaus swinging his arms around carelessly to blind Dave with water and it looked like he was winning, had he done this with someone before? It didn’t really matter, because soon enough Dave caught up with his technique. He grabbed Klaus by the waist and pulled him close, snatching the boot away from his hands and holding it away from him.

Klaus could try to reach for it again, but he couldn’t get it, he was laughing too hard and Dave was taller than him and could hold it out of his reach. But Dave had been glaring intensely at him, almost enough to burn into him and before he knew it, he stole the kiss. Klaus only held it for a second before he started giggling again, and he pushed Dave away so he could stop laughing.

He looked up at Dave, both of his hands on his chest. And Dave looked down at Klaus. Seeing his clothes soaking wet in the moonlight, looking into Klaus’ eyes. Dave noticed a lock of Klaus’ hair plastered on his forehead and he moved it out of the way gently. Klaus stopped smiling. He stopped giggling. There’s no noise, not even the sounds of crickets at night. Just them, in the water. Klaus bit his lip, before curling hands into fists, grabbing Dave’s shirt and pulling him in. Dave dropped the boot and caressed his love’s cheek as they embraced each other in the middle of the cold lake.

___

They had finally gotten out of the water and back to where all the mess had started, Dave on his back and Klaus on top of him. “And what about your shoe?” Klaus asked, breaking the silence.

Dave looked up, his smile brighter than the moon. “You learn to let go.” He then looked at Klaus. “Some things are more important.”

“My god you’re such a sap.” Klaus giggled and nuzzled closer to his chest, the sound of his heartbeat resembling a faint echo whispering sweet nothings to his ear. “You know it, baby.”

“Y’know I think we should get married.”

Both of them laughed after Klaus had said that. “Oh yeah?” Dave faced down at Klaus, grinning and petting his hair.

Klaus zoned out for a moment. “Yeah...” he whispered, suddenly turning to him with a serious expression on his face. “I’m serious.” He paused and gripped Dave’s shirt slightly. “I want to marry you, Davey.”

Dave frowned as he watched Klaus continue adding more to his words. “I’ve literally never met somebody like you. You’re the only thing keeping me together and god, I love you. I love you Davey and I don’t want to lose you and I want to be with you all the time. I really want to marry you.”

Klaus watched Dave analyze his speech, a slight smile of hope creeping up on his lips, but his eyes only screamed worry. Did he just fuck it up? Was it too soon? Was Dave going to scold him for thinking so childishly? He knew gay marriage was not a thing back then, which was another reason why he wanted to tell him the whole truth. About how he showed up, about the briefcase, about where he was from, about everything. That was his original plan but it looked like he regretted it now.

“Klaus... I- Fuck,” Dave breathed out, squeezing his lover’s hand, trying to regain his thoughts. A weak smile appeared on his face. “I love you so much, Klaus. And if I could just make you mine right here right now, I would in a heartbeat.” The smile started to fade. “But I- people like us... We can’t, we can’t just do that. It’s illegal, we could get in serious trouble for that.”

“I know Davey... I know,” Klaus mumbled, sitting on Dave’s stomach to look at him directly. “Maybe we could get rings or something?” He raised his eyebrows in sadness, begging to see approval in Dave’s eyes. “Klaus-”

Klaus shushed him before he could finish his thoughts, shaking his head and chuckling. “Yeah no that’s stupid it wouldn’t work.” He kept talking to himself, muttering random words that Dave could barely hear, head hanging low.

Klaus’ face suddenly lit up and turned to Dave, pursing his lips before he started talking again. “How about this?” he asked as he put his hands behind his head, carefully taking off his dog tags and holding them firmly. “Give me yours,” he said, or rather ordered, holding his free hand out. Dave couldn’t seem to rub off the confusion on his face but did as he was told anyway. He passed the ball chain over his head and placed it on Klaus’ hand. Klaus took ahold of Dave’s dog tags and wore them around his neck, letting them clink against each other as one hit against his collarbone. Klaus then took his own dog tags and did the same for Dave.

“There! Nobody can tell the difference but us.”

The way that smile crept up on Dave’s lips made Klaus’ heart falter. All his smiles had been genuine before, but that one was different. He was shining, replacing the missing stars in the sky that night. It wasn’t just his lips, his eyes were smiling too. It filled Klaus’ veins with euphoria and for a split second his world stopped and it was like everything was okay.

He watched as Dave’s smile turned into a grin, which caused his own lips to curl up as well, forming a smile of his own. “I now pronounce us husband and wife!” Klaus exclaimed, raising his arms to shoulder level and curling his hands into fists excitedly.

Dave moved his arms and placed them on Klaus’ waist, running his thumb against his right hip soothingly. “I’ll never take them off.”

That feeling filled Klaus’ chest again. That feeling where everything was okay. That feeling where he felt like he didn’t have to worry about the future or the war or the death of his friends and family. Like he didn’t have to worry about losing Dave. And it was. Everything was going to be okay as long as they stayed like this.

___

Nine months. Klaus had managed to stay in Vietnam for nine whole months, meaning it had been six months since his promise to Dave. Yes, Klaus Hargreeves had been sober for half a year. And he was happy. He was happy and proud of himself that Dave was proud of him, but he couldn’t just ignore the voices in his head, the ghosts in every corner. As the months passed, he and Dave became glued to the hip, they wouldn’t leave each other’s side, but no matter how much Dave was there for Klaus, so were the ghosts.

They weren’t as intense as when he was thirteen locked in the mausoleum, but war was war. And progressively more of them started to show up. Comrades, citizens just staring at him with their gross, dry, dead eyes and calling out for help. Please, Klaus please please please tell my family you can see me please let me talk to my family. He hated seeing his dead friends look at him in disgust and disbelief when he couldn’t do anything to help.

Things only got worse when Conny died.

It was Klaus’ fault too. If he had told him to watch out for the mine on the ground in time, Conny wouldn’t have gotten blown up into pieces. The image would never leave his mind, his friend’s flesh and bones exploding right in front of his face all because he didn’t look out for him like Conny did for him and Dave.

Dave insisted it wasn’t Klaus’ fault, there was no way he could have known anything like that would happen, but it didn’t make it any easier. His friend was gone all because of him and his ghost never fucking left him alone. Klaus didn’t blame him. It was rare for a ghost to keep their marbles in the afterlife if they weren’t there for Klaus, it was like their soul was crushed and gone forever. That kind of explained Ben’s behavior, it was just a hunch though. Dave had noticed Klaus twitching and zoning out of conversations just like when they first met. For the past month or so Klaus was still glued to him, but he wasn’t really there. His mind was in a different place, and as much as Dave wanted to help his lover through it, he couldn’t. He was able to help him before but now Klaus was shutting him out.

And it hurt. It hurt deeply and he couldn’t do anything about it. Dave knew Klaus wasn’t telling him something, but he didn’t want to force anything out of him he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

Either way, it was time for another R&R, and thank god for that because Klaus really needed a break from the war. And so did Dave. Because they both lost someone and neither of them could deal with death anymore.

As soon as they got off the bus, Klaus and Dave made sure to book a room for the three days they’d be in town for. Their original plan was to go for a walk to blow off steam from the hard months they had to deal with and then stay in their room just the two of them, but Dave hadn’t been feeling that hot. So Klaus decided to go for a walk by himself.

And it escalated from a walk in the park to a walk in the bar.

Klaus knew where he was going wasn’t going to do him any good, but at that point he was desperate. He was sure just a couple of shots wouldn’t hurt anyone, in fact, it would just be enough to make most of the ghosts disappear. He ended up bumping into Murphy and some of the other soldiers and tagged along with them for the night. It was fun, but not nearly as fun as it would have been if Dave was there. A few shots turned into bottles, and the bottles turned into... LSD? No, no he wouldn’t do drugs. But Murphy was standing right there, practically giving it to him.

“Come on, I’ve seen you fidgeting ever since we got here. It’ll do you some good, trust me.”

His stomach started to twist, his body screaming for a fix. And freedom was right in front of him, the ghosts that didn’t go away surrounding him and screaming his name over the loud music. He knew it wasn’t right, he knew he would regret it later, but he couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t stand hearing the dead call out his name, he couldn’t stand the ringing in his ears, he couldn’t stand the images of bloody, mangled bodies flashing in his mind. He just wanted to relax.

Moments after the acid touched his tongue, everything got blurry. Finally, the sweet release of numbness . It was like greeting an old friend and it felt so good. His worries went away in an instant and nothing else mattered at that moment, Klaus couldn’t feel anything and it was great .

Next thing he was knocking on the door of their hotel room, leaning on the wall so he wouldn’t stumble and fall. Being high as a kite and drunk as a boiled owl at the same time was never a good combination. Dave opened the door gently. “What took you so-”

“Heeeeeelloooo Daveyyy~” Klaus slurred out and stumbled his way inside the room, a giggle escaping his lips.

The smile that was planted on Dave’s lips dropped, as he closed the door and turned to Klaus with a... was it a sad expression? Klaus couldn’t tell, his eyes were shaking too much to see anything clearly. “Klaus, what the fuck.” That most definitely was sad tone but there was something else too. Something more... Something more like Reginald-like. Was it anger? Disappointment maybe?

“Mmh, you in the mood?” Klaus took off his coat and let it rest on a chair, going on his tiptoes for a spin before laughing and sliding on the side of one of the beds.

He watched Dave’s expression change from worried to pissed off and sad. “You made a promise.”

“Relaaax baby it was just a little bit of LSD-”

“I don’t care what it was.”

It was anger. Bottled up anger and disappointment. Klaus honestly didn’t expect that from Dave at all. He was always this... pure and kind and worried soul. Sure, sometimes he would lose his patience but he was never angry at him. Dave’s anger seemed to distinguish a bit at that moment, furrowing his eyebrows in worry and sadness and... hurt. Klaus could tell he was hurt. And it hurt Klaus that he hurt Dave and now it was all coming back right at his face. “I don’t want to lose you Klaus but all you do is push me away. You made a promise and you broke it and now you’re... You’re just not you with all the drugs dammit.”

“Isn’t that the fucking point?!” Klaus didn’t know what woke up inside him that made him snap, but he did. He yelled at Dave who hadn’t done anything wrong up until that point instead of begging for forgiveness, no, he was too deep in this shit to start apologizing now.

“Okay, I’ve had enough ,” Dave practically growled, getting up and snapping his fingers so Klaus would look up at him. “I feel like everything I’ve done for you was for nothing! I’ve been there for you since day one and now you’re building up your walls again that I spent these months trying to lower down, and gosh I’m sorry I’m yelling right now but you’re not listening , Klaus! So listen to me!”

It was terrifying. Dave raising up his voice was terrifying. Klaus yelled at him first and now Dave was yelling at him, so why would he be surprised?

“One moment it’s fine, the other is like you’re trying to get away from me. I don’t have a problem with you trying to protect yourself but honestly Klaus do me a favor and decide if you trust me or not.” Ouch.

Klaus was not good at dealing with these things. He always ran away from all sorts of trouble even when he was a kid, and usually drowned out his emotions with alcohol or whatever he could find that would get him high enough to forget his name. It all changed when he met Dave. Dave was his escape, his life . But of course he had to fuck it up and now Dave was against him as well. It was always Klaus’ fault. He brought this to himself and he knew it.

So now that Dave wasn’t on his side, all he could do was run away. Klaus got up from the bed and grabbed his coat from the chair it had been sitting on, heading for the door. He hated himself for acting so childishly, but in his head, there was nothing else he could have done.

“ Klaus , no.”

“ Klaus come on.”

“ Klaus , I didn’t mean-” Shut up.

Dave started to sound just like them. His brothers and sisters, the ghosts, his father. He felt a hand grip his shoulder and that’s when he lost it. It was just as harsh and cold as when a ghost’s hand went through him, back when he was thirteen. Whether it was going through his shoulder or actually touching him he couldn’t tell, he was too busy screaming for his dad at the top of his lungs, curled up in the corner of the mausoleum as more ghosts continued to crawl in his direction.

“Don’t touch me!” The terror and sadness boiling up inside his stomach just spilled right out of him all at once.

Then there was silence. He never meant to yell before and he definitely didn’t mean to yell now either, but he couldn’t help it. He was scared and overwhelmed and disappointed and angry at himself but he took it out on Dave.

Dave pulled his hand back, letting it drop on his side as it clenched into a fist. He took a deep breath and looked Klaus in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” Dave said slowly, not wanting to startle him. There was silence again, but it didn’t last long. “Let’s just calm down. It’s- It’s been a rough couple of days for both of us, let’s just go to bed and we’ll talk about this in the morning,” he added to his words, not moving before Klaus did.

Klaus nodded slightly, moving past Dave and making his way to the bed he was previously sitting on. He didn’t bother taking off his clothes to sleep better, all he wanted was to rest with Dave by his side. He lay on the bed, turning to his side so he was staring at the wall. He waited for Dave to lay next to him, instead, he heard ruffling of the sheets from the other bed. Great, so they were sleeping on different beds now. Fantastic. Good job Klaus.

Dave felt bad about it too. He wasn’t sure if he should have held Klaus close or given him space. They were yelling at each other previously and he was scared to ask what Klaus wanted. So he did what he thought was best and gave him some time to cool off.

It hurt both of them. Because both of them just wanted to cry and hold each other tight and apologize for being dicks to one another but they didn’t know how the other person would have reacted.

Klaus welcomed the darkness as his eyes dragged him to a dreamless sleep.

___

For the first time in a while, Klaus wasn’t woken up by the screaming and begging of the ghosts, but rather by the beam of sunlight coming from the window and hitting his eyes. A groan escaped his throat as he sat up on the bed, barely able to keep his eyes open. He felt sore and had a massive headache, probably shouldn't have slept with his clothes on. He rubbed his eyes with his knuckles, as he yawned loudly and let out an exaggerated ‘fuuuuuuck me’, hoping he didn’t wake up Dav-

Dave . Klaus quickly turned his head to where the other bed was to lay his eyes on him, just to make sure he didn’t wake him up. But Dave wasn’t there. Klaus frowned slightly, getting up from his bed, but his worried expression softened when he heard the shower running from the small bathroom. Klaus, relieved, made his way to the bed Dave slept in, making himself comfortable and held the pillow close to his chest. The faint smell of his boyfriend left on it helped him relax.

He almost fell asleep just like that, but the sunlight kept reflecting on something placed on Dave’s nightstand by the bed. Annoyed by the reflected light blinding him, he reached out his hand to put it away. His fingers brushed against a familiar texture and his eyes widened, quickly sitting up to look at it better, but still clinging onto the pillow.

Klaus’ dog tags, just sitting there, on the old nightstand.

“I’ll never take them off.”

His heart dropped all the way down to his stomach. He tried to swallow down the saliva in the back of his throat, but there nothing there. His throat felt dry as if he had tried to swallow sand. He gripped the dog tags tightly and pulled them close to his chest, letting the chain hung from his hands. Klaus had promised to stay sober, and Dave had promised to keep the tags on at all times. Klaus broke his promise, so was this his punishment? Was that what Dave was doing? If it was, it didn’t hurt him. Hurt was a diminished word. Destroyed him, mortified him, broke him, maybe. But it didn’t hurt him. Not really.

His gaze shifted to the bathroom door opening, revealing the freshly washed Dave. His new grey shirt was a little wet from the water dripping off his soaked hair and onto his shoulders, but other than that he looked nice and dry.

Klaus stared at him, not feeling like he needed to say words. His eyes said it all. Dave’s happy resting face dropped to a frown once he saw the dog tags clutched to Klaus’ hands. “Kl-"

Before Dave could finish, Klaus teared up. He didn’t cry, he sobbed. He sobbed like someone was tearing up his insides. Dave had seen Klaus cry before, but not like this. “Wait nonono-” Not a second passed and he was already sprinting to him and pulling him close to his chest. Klaus’ sobs didn’t seem to slow down, only when he gasped for air. His hands gripped Dave’s sleeves, his whole body shaking. Sadly this time it wasn’t from laughter.

Dave held him tight, kissing the top of his head and rubbing his back. He hated being the cause of this pain. Klaus didn’t deserve what was happening to him. He didn’t deserve the shitty behavior or the ghosts or the war and all the death in it. The least Dave could have done was help him but instead, he managed to make it worse. “Baby please look at me-”

It sounded more like a question than a statement, either way, Dave said it as calmly as possible while brushing the hair that covered Klaus’ face away. And Klaus did. He looked up at him, sniffling and trembling like a mess.

“I just-” Dave bit his lip. He hated seeing Klaus like this. “I just didn’t want to deform your initials on them,” he said, eyebrows curling upward as his frown grew. Klaus only sniffled and gasped, trying to get air in his lungs. He moved his arms from the position they were in and wrapped them around Dave’s neck tightly, clinging closer to him and crawling on his lap. He started to cry again.

“I’m so sorry Klaus... I’m so sorry I worried you like that,” Dave mumbled in his ear, before resting his chin on his head and firmly wrapping his arms around Klas’ waist. He wasn’t going to let him go. He was going to stay there as long as he had to.

Klaus took a few shaky breaths and pulled back from Dave’s chest to look at him clearly. Dave’s eyes were red and puffy, not as much as his, but it was obvious he was very close to crying as well. He gulped down a hiccup. “I’m sorry I yelled yesterday,” he whispered with what was left of his voice. It was raspy and silent but he managed to get the words out anyway.

Dave looked at him with a sad half-smile, blinking to push the tears back into his eyes. “Yeah... I’m sorry I yelled too.” His voice was ready to break, not like he cared. He moved his hand to the back of Klaus’ head, rubbing the nape of his neck gently.

“And I’m sorry- I��m sorry about fucking up-” Klaus started talking again, feeling his throat getting tighter, making it harder for him to speak without hurting. His throat hurt, his eyes hurt, his heart hurt, everything hurt. “About the drugs and the drinking- I don’t know what’s wrong with me-”

“No, I’m sorry,” Dave interrupted him before Klaus could finish. “It was stupid of me to ask you to just drop everything. I can’t imagine what it’s like, Klaus, being followed by the dead all the time and I’m sorry I was never able to help you through it. I hate seeing you poisoning yourself but I hate seeing you black out randomly because there’s someone screaming in the corner of the room that I can’t even see-”

“You can’t control it Dave it’s okay...” Klaus cut him off this time, leaning into Dave’s touch as he rubbed his neck. “You’ve always helped me through it. You’re just looking out for me and I couldn’t ask for more,” he said, resting his hands on his lap still holding onto the dog tags. “Nobody has ever done that for me.”

Except for my dead brother that I haven’t seen in almost a year. Klaus still wanted to tell him. He still wanted to clear all of Dave’s unanswered questions about everything. And it might have been the right time to spill the beans right then and there, but he hesitated. Enough shit went down already and he didn’t want to fall in a different hole at the moment.

His thoughts were cut short as Dave removed his hand from Klaus’ nape and took the dog tags out of his hands. He pulled them over his head and let them rest in their rightful place. He then looked at Klaus again. “There. This time I’m not taking them off no matter what.”

___

The R&R flew by as fast as it came and things went back to normal. Of course, it became a little harder for Dave and Klaus to sneak out without Conny to let them off easy, but they found ways to spend time together nonetheless.

If they weren’t fully joined at the hip before, they were now. Klaus’ relapse made Dave realize how much he really depended on Klaus, and how much Klaus depended on him. He made Dave a better person, and in return, he believed in Klaus when nobody else would.

It was true love and nothing anyone said could prove them wrong.

And when Dave was assigned to the front line, Klaus followed him. No matter how much Dave insisted he didn’t need protection, Klaus didn’t change his mind. Another thing he loved about Klaus. He would literally do anything, it didn’t matter how bizarre it was, to be close to Dave. He just learned to live with it.

Because he was going to spend the rest of his life with the crazy man next to him, laughing in the middle of the war as shots were being fired and bombs were being dropped. Dave loved Klaus, and he wasn’t going to let him go.

There was a sharp pain in his chest as if someone had stepped on him. Only it was worse. Way worse. And the pain was unbearable.

“Christ on a cracker! That was a close one, huh Dave?”

55 notes · View notes

kyoko0001 · 5 years

Text

私に薬の主人を呼んではいけない Chapter 01

SMUT ALERT!!

Fai doesn't think the term 'drug lord' is an accurate description for his line of work. Of course, it's hard to explain exactly what it is you do when you find out that your Tinder crush is a officer at the Tokyo police department. Modern Day AU. KuroFai. Mentions of other CLAMP ships here and there. Full list of warnings at the beginning of each chapter.

Chapter 01 available here or click the read more link!

Fai Fluorite was on his third large, triple chocolate caramel latte with 2 shots of expresso, and he wasn't even half way though his night yet. He had two more clubs to visit and a meeting with his Guatemalan importer to get though before he had to head to the Neko no me Café and start the ovens.

It took every ounce of his self-motivation to eat the grilled cheese his assistant, Syaoran, had so kindly acquired for him. It was easy to ignore the food while he balanced the books of Fenikkusu though. The once familiar task took frustratingly long…

Normally this particular establishment ran smoothly, but with Oruha out on maternity leave he had to spend a maddening amount of time keeping things moving. Don't get him wrong, he was happy for her—she had been trying for a child for so long after all—and he wanted her to have as much time off as she needed.

But—

He would be much happier with her back in her office where she belonged. There was just no substitute for someone who had been running this club for him for the last 8 years. She knew this place better then him naturally.

"Please eat a few more bites Fai-sama." Syaoran was frowning at him from the other side of the ornate cherry wood desk and the blond tugged his cheeks into a too cheery smile as he looked up from his work.

"I swear I'll finish it." His tone was purposefully cheerful, but he didn't quite manage to bring the smile to his eyes.

His assistant didn't look as though he was buying it today, and he wasn't sure if he currently had the energy to tug the muscles in his face any tighter.

Syaoran gave a defeated sigh—He could be such a smart kid sometimes.

Fai had every intention of sticking to his usual diet of pure sugar, caffeine and various other stimulants for the rest of the night. He would probably eat some blueberries at the café… Toyo had mentioned that the last shipment was deliciously ripe.

Keeping his body running when he couldn't sleep more than three or four hours a night was a delicate balancing act. Carbs and fat would make him sluggish and he couldn't afford that so early in the night. He had probably already hit his calorie goal anyways with the sugar packed lattes.

A greasy grilled cheese wasn't going to do him any good. Even if it was from the little dinner across the street and one of his favorite foods.

"Can you go run to the backroom and grab the inventory list for me?" Fai looked back down at the spreadsheet he was updating. Better to keep Syaoran busy then letting him fret over silly things like his lunch.

The teen nodded and pulled the door open just wide enough to slip through. After a year of working as the blonde's assistant he knew when to take a hint, and left quickly to give his boss some space.

The loud sound of the music rushed into the quite office like a tsunami despite his efforts, causing the blond to scowl. As soon as the door swung closed again the noise faded back down to a more tolerable level and Fai stood while grabbing the now cold sandwich off the plate. He had a hot minute before Syaoran would return—but better safe than sorry… Fai headed towards the employee restroom for some extra privacy.

Locking the door, he tore sizable chunks of the sandwich off and tossed them in the toilet. Flushing away the evidence, he sighed and washed the greasy residue off his fingers and dried his hands quickly.

Now to the next line of business.

If he was going to get though the rest of this night, he was going to need a pick me up.

It had been that kind of week unfortunately.

Or rather… That kind of month…

Year?

The blond wasn't entirely sure.

Fai pulled his cell phone out of the inner pocket of his dark blue Brioni suit jacket and set it on the sink. Digging a little deeper he found what he was looking for—a dime bag with just enough 'help' to get him though the rest of the night.

Lazily, he tapped some of the powder onto the shining porcelain of the sink. With practiced grace he shaped two identical lines with his visa. The only cash he carried was for the soul purpose snorting his snow, and he made quick work of twirling up his lucky ¥10,000 note.

Two deep breaths later and Fai was tilting his head back and closed his eyes while he sucked in a few deep breaths. What little discomfort he felt was quickly forgotten and the blonde used a damp paper towel to wipe down the side of the sink and slid the baggie back into his inner breast pocket.

He would need to do a lot more to get any sort of rush—but those lines would serve to make him feel a little more human.

He had been doing this on and off for years—and though he was sure his body would thank him for a brake form the illicit substances—he couldn't deal with it now. There were too many things that needed his attention. This shit was way better then caffeine that was for sure.

Once he was feeling a little more like himself, he leaned against the porcelain counter top and unlocked his phone.

The second line of break business was making sure there was nothing urgent that needed his attention. His people had his cell and knew that he was available at all hours should they need him.

No urgent texts, so there was nothing that needed his immediate attention. One of his bouncers had needed a few stiches after breaking up a bar brawl and Fai set a reminder to take care of the doctor bills and send him a card.

Emails for this week's accounting were coming in and he would add them to the books while he waited for Yuukito and Touya to show up for their opening shift this morning…

He added that to his calendar as well and sighed before hitting the home button. Between meeting with the troublesome supplier, one of his managers being out, and trying to get the months end accounting done he was going to lose his mind.

Absentmindedly he opened Tinder and started looking though the messages he had been ignoring for the last few hours. Maybe a good lay would help relax him enough to actually be able to sleep tonight…

Fai didn't have high standards and he had probably slept with half the men in Tokyo by now. Well… Half the gay ones at least. The blonde didn't care what line of work they were in—what they were majoring in—if they were vegan—liked beer or whatever else hipsters drank these days—what exotic vacations they took.

He just wanted them tall, with a strong shoulders, a killer body, and big cock. He didn't do clingy, long term, or batshit ether.

Fai already had money, nice cars, and a big house. He didn't need someone to take care of him—just get him off. As long as their kinks weren't anything too crazy, Fai was usually down to party.

It was nearing 10. Not too late to arrange something if he moved his schedule around. The blond scrolled though his open chats with a frown…

To clingy—To skinny—to short—to nosey…

Honestly with over nine million people in Tokyo the options were pretty shitty.

Back to the drawing board…

Backing out he started to sift through pictures of singles.

He never bothered to read anyone's profile and he sent the same messages to all of his matches.

Currently out on the town.

Would love to meet for a drink if you're not busy?

He made sure to include a few kissy faces and heart eye emojis and switched back to his email. It was Friday night so chances were good someone might take him up on his offer. If he didn't get a response soon, he was going to have to keep an eye out in the next club for a tipsy Mr. Tall dark and handsome that wasn't too far gone to keep his cock up.

He preferred his partners to be sober. They were usually better at actually getting the job done when they weren't too drunk to see strait.

Fai sighed rather loudly as the first responses started trickling in and read though them with disinterest. A few busy—a few too-forward responses including images of rather unimpressive genitalia—and hello!

My shift ends in two hours.

Still going to be out?

What were his chances that the hot one worked late? Fai smirked and sent back a thumbs up.

Where we meeting?

The blonde checked his calendar. He would be at Kyuden.

This club was on the tamer side—it had only opened two years ago and had surprisingly attracted an older crowed. Business men and single 30 something's who had money frequented the joint.

To cater to the more mature taste they usually had live local bands, or comedians preforming. It suited a more distinguished crowed better than thumping music and flashing lights the university students enjoyed. Fai rather liked Kyuden for that reason. Yuto kept it well managed so he didn't have to visit often—but they were looking to remodel the VIP area and Fai needed to approve the budget.

More privet rooms were needed—and more discreet seating.

Fai not only made sure that they had the largest selection of top shelf liquor in all of Tokyo, but at this joint he also staffed an impressive array of ladies to cater to the single gentlemen's needs.

So—like most of his establishments—it was walking the line of not quite legal.

It was far from a gay bar—but it didn't chase that crowd off ether. The could fuck quick in dirty in one of the more privet booths—and Fai could see firsthand the issues with the current layout.

Kyuden?

He received a response almost immediately.

See you then.

Perfect.

Fai slipped his phone in his pocket and turned to look in the mirror. He splashed his face with cold water and toweled his hands dry before heading back out to the office. Syaoran—the sweet thing that he was—had returned with not only the ledgers but also what looked to be another coffee for him.

"Thanks, Syao." Fai winked at him and accepted the folder as well as the warm paper cup that smelled like heaven.

"No problem."

Hiring this kid was honestly one of the best decisions he had ever made. Syaoran had started out as one of Fai's 'boys.'

Syaoran was not cut out for moving goods though— but he had needed a job. Fai had taken pity on him and hired the kid as his assistant. It turned out that he was a hard worker and had good taste in coffee, so it worked out for both of them.

He always seemed to know when Fai needed a refill on his latte, a Redbull, or shot of tequila.

The blonde had been though a lot of assistants over the years—that particular skill was a rare talent that Fai greatly appreciated.

Poor thing had made the unfortunate mistake of getting his girlfriend pregnant when they were still in high school, and regrettably, he had been forced to drop out to support them. There little son Tsubasa was too cute and Fai had a soft spot for kids. Syaoran was an honorable little knuckle head—so Fai had also hired his honey to work at his café during the day as a server.

Sakura was ditzy and clumsy, but she made up for that with her kind heart.

The blond sat back down in front of his macbook to focus on what he was supposed to be doing in the first place. His little hit early was doing its job and he powered though the last of the book keeping faster than originally planned.

They had made a profit. He always did—but the numbers were still lower than they had been before Oruha had left a month ago. It wasn't as though the staff had forgotten how to do their jobs—they were simply slacking since there manager was not there to ride them on their duties.

It peeved him… But made him appreciate the hard work of his managers. He wouldn't be able to run his business if it wasn't for their hard work… He couldn't do this for each one of his 22 clubs. Even if he never slept, he wouldn't have enough time to oversee all of the little details.

The blonde made a note to give each one of the managers a bonus. Keeping them happy and right where they were was paramount to making sure no additional responsibilities feel onto his plate.

Fai felt his eyes getting heavy again, his concentration didn't last long. He managed to discreetly excuse himself to the bathroom again and took another bump before he and Syaoran headed out to meet the distributer.

His McLaren 570s was in the parking garage across the street in his reserved spot. Syaoran rode shot gun and Fai put the top down as they pulled out onto the busy street.

Tokyo always had traffic—and after navigating those packed streets for 18 years—he knew the quickest ways to get around town.

They were meeting at one of his warehouses in the industrial district. As soon as they exited downtown, the traffic thankfully died down enough to actually feel some wind in their hair as he cruised the artificially lit streets in a comfortable silence. He pulled up with time to spare and double parked in front of the building.

During the day this place served as a clothing Wearhouse. Fai owned the property and rented it out to some exporter who sold cheap clothing online to rich foreigners. They got the space for cheap and Fai used it after hours for his own needs.

It worked out perfectly as a place to transfer goods, and as far as his intel went, the police had no idea. He switched it up every few weeks whether they were suspicious or not though. He hadn't had a meeting in this particular building in a little over a year.

Two of his enforcers were already waiting for him. Syaoran followed close behind him as they got out of the car and slowly approached Kusanagi and Seshiro. Both were dressed in their usual uniform. Black skin-tight tee and black jeans that served to make their muscles look even more impressive.

Too bad both men were spoken for. Seshiro was currently engaged to one of Fai's managers and Kusanagi had himself a cute little wife at home.

"Evening Sir." The men said in unison and Fai grinned at them.

"Have our guests arrived?"

He didn't expect any trouble. Even outside of Japan the exporters he worked with knew what happened when you crossed him.

If they tried it? Well the night would be a little interesting then now wouldn't it?

"No sir. Fuuma is with them in rout. Traffic." Seshiro returned his smile before opening the door to the Wearhouse.

That was all good and well. Fai could live without being the one fashionably late this time.

The blonde entered with his assistant following close behind him. They made themselves comfortable in one of the offices and waited. Syaoran made some tea and Fai checked his phone.

Kanoe, the manager of Kurōbā had texted him to inform him that one of the bartenders had quite mid shift. They were handling it for now but were going to need to get a decent replacement asap to handle the 4th floor bar.

He had a few promising resumes waiting for a spot, so Fai sent back a text that she needed to set up a meeting with him to go over them to find a suitable replacement. He accepted the meeting request that came in moments later.

Tomorrow at 5pm was early for him… but if she was short staffed, he could do it. Okoku brought in a good amount of money for him and if they had to shut down an entire floor, his pocket book would notice.

Now that that was settled Fai moved on to the next line of business… He opened a text from his step dad praying that it wasn't bad news.

It wasn't that he didn't get along with Taishukuten—not now that he was an adult at least. They just didn't talk unless it was about Ashura. If his stepdad hadn't married Fai's adoptive father, and had simply remained his law partner? Fai would probably avoid him.

After stepping in as a step parent and being put though the ringer by both he and his twin from the time they were first going through the emotional, hormonal, train wreck that was middle school? The feeling of polite annoyance was mutual.

Needless to say—the only time he got a message from the man was when something was wrong.

A picture of his father and… a cat?

Awe.

They had gone out.

How sweet.

Fai sent back a few hearts. He couldn't tell where they were from the background, but he was glad that Taishakuten had gotten Ashura out of the house. Since the accident his adoptive father had a tendency to stay cooped up in doors more often than not.

Fai saved the photo to his phone and set it as his wall paper. There were too few happy moments in his life recently. He like to have reminders of why he did all of this garbage to begin with.

Tapping the home button, he smiled at the new photo one more time before checking his tinder messages. Nothing else from—oh what was his name?

Kurogane?

Well at least his name matched his serious profile picture.

Fai looked through the few photo's the man had attached to his profile and smirked. He hoped Kurogane was as handsome in person as he was in these pictures.

One of him wearing a traditional Hakama was particularly charming. He must be into some sort of martial art—which hopefully meant he was in wonderful shape.

Fai smirked thinking about taking body shots off a well-toned stomach… Maybe this Kuro would be up for some less traditional fun tonight. It might not be the best idea seeing as he would still have work to finish tonight… but it was tempting.

If they clicked Fai thought he might chance an evening off to have some much-needed naughty relaxation in an actual bed. Maybe a ritzy hotel with a jacuzzi and bottle service in the room?

He could tie Kuro-hottie to the headboard and lick whip cream off his most sensitive areas?

"Is something wrong Fai-sama?" Syaoran came back into the office carrying a small tray with two cups of steaming tea—green tea of course—and pulled him out of his fantasies.

"No. I decided to meet someone tonight at Kyuden for a drink." Fai turned the phone so that Syaoran could see the photo of Kuro in his sexy hakama. "Cute ne?"

"If you say so Fai-sama." Syaoran laughed awkwardly and the blonde found himself chuckling.

This poor kid knew way too much about his sex life… Fai was severely allergic to long term commitment but had an obnoxious need for human contact. This caused and interesting predicament that played out in a near constant steam of short flings and one-night stands.

In the last 10 years his longest relationship had lasted a whopping 4 months and ended with him leaving his date at fancy eatery in Paris when they had dropped the L-bomb.

"If you wanted to call it an early night, I wouldn't be mad. I'll have Kusanagi give you a ride home after we finish up here?" The blonde offered with an innocent smile.

As much as he loved having his assistant to vet his phone calls and get him lattes, he didn't need the poor thing waiting around while he got plowed in a semi-privet booth by his date.

He paid him handsomely—but not enough for that.

"Yeah. The baby has a cold and I know Sakura-chan is exhausted from staying up with him." Fai frowned at that. It was that time of year he supposed… But why hadn't Syaoran mentioned it earlier?

"Why don't you have Sakura take the day off tomorrow too? I'll toss her an extra vacation day, so you guys can all take a day to rest." Fai was always lenient when it came to things like this. Surely Syaoran knew all he needed to do was ask and his boss would send him home?

"Are you sure that's ok Fai-sama?" the brunet didn't like to accept charity—the fact that he didn't out right refuse showed just how stressful having sick baby really was. He couldn't relate—probably would never have children—but he had spent enough time around their little tot at the café to know he was a handful when he felt under the weather.

"Yes." Fai confirmed.

Before his assistant had a chance to say anything further Seshiro knocked on the door of the office. Fai sipped his tea as he entered into the cramped room and closed the door behind himself.

Looking out the large window that overlooked the main floor Fai could see that the new distributer was waiting very patiently for them. He had brought a man and a woman with him—it wasn't unusual—normally distributers were accompanied by bodyguards like Fai's enforcers—but not always.

It was ether a show of faith.

Or over confidence.

Only time would tell.

"Are you ready Sir?" Seshiro didn't seem overly concerned.

Must not have found anything alarming on them during the pat down.

Wordlessly Fai stood, and they made their way out of the office. Fai had pulled a serene, emotionless mask onto his face and walked with Syaoran and Seshiro behind him, head held high, eyes blasé.

This was a well-choreographed dance. He had a reputation to maintain after all. It had taken a few years to prefect this particular act, but it had served him well so far.

He wasn't Fai Fluorite—the friendly neighborhood drug ring leader. He was Fai Fluorite—the slightly off his rocker, smiley psychopath that wouldn't think twice about ordering a hit on you or your entire family if you crossed him.

Once he was just close enough to see the individual hairs on the man's head, he offered a pleasant smile. "Its nice to meet you in person Mr. Reed."

Fei Wang Reed did not seem pleased to see Fai. This meeting was to set boundaries after all—and no one liked to be scolded.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Fluorite." Fai could tell that he was forcing a calm tone as he spoke—he could see the anger in his eyes.

Good.

He may have just climbed to the top of the food chain in South America—but he was in Fai's house now.

His guests had to play by the rules.

His rules.

Tokyo was a big market after all. Sure—finding a new supplier for coke would be annoying. The stuff he had gotten from Fei Wang Reed's predecessor had been top grade, and Fai's boys had been able to cut and move the stuff faster than he could import it.

This last shipment? Low quality and full of cheap and slightly hazardous additives.

Since Cocaine was the drug of choice of his most wealthy clientele—he was not happy.

He was a drug lord sure—but he wasn't going to lower his standards and start selling low quality, possibly harmful shit to his customers just because he had gotten ripped off. He had built his business on his integrity after all.

"I'm trust you received my return shipment?" Fai made sure that his face was a perfect expression of disinterest. His tone apathetic.

Fai had sent the cheap shit back, along with an invitation to discuss their future business relationship.

"I apologize for the misunderstanding." Reed offered. He didn't shift under Fai's gaze.

He was a ballsy one alright.

Ballsy enough to send a response stating that they had tried to provide him with a service by sending him 'precut' product so that he would be able to get it to his customers sooner.

Right.

"And I trust that you have ensured this shipment is what were accustomed to receiving form your office?" If it wasn't, Fai was going to have to teach him a lesson… He would very much prefer that Fei Wang Reed followed his warnings.

"See for yourself." Reed tilted his head to Kusanagi who held out a small sample baggy to Fai.

He had been doing this a long time—and had picked up a few tricks over the years. The first rule of dealing with someone like Fei Wang Reed was assuming they were trying to off you.

It was pretty much the ultimate goal in the business he was in. Currently Fai was the ring leader of the drug trade in the Tokyo metropolitan aria—taking him out would be a big step up for someone like Reed. The respect he would earn from accomplishing such a task would be more them enough to ensure at least a few years of control.

"Syaoran. Please bring that table over here." The blonde motioned to one of the folding tables that was set up against the far wall. Reeds eyes narrowed—no doubt offended—but the blonde didn't care.

His assistant complied quickly. Fai dumped half the powder on to the table and used his Palladium Visa to slide it into one long line. Fai fished out his lucky ¥10,000 note and made quick work of rolling it up and handing it to Fei Wang Reed.

"Cheers!" Fai chimed.

Reed was glaring daggers at him as he accepted the note. Fai didn't buy for one second that this man didn't sample his own products—so he was ether seriously offended—or about to snort his own poison.

He bent, and Fai watched him finish the line in one go before straitening and tipping his head back—snuffing his nose loudly.

So that was a no on the poison then…

Fai pinched the edges of the dime bag between his index finger and thumb forcing the plastic to pucker open. It smelled fine… looked good… apparently not laced with poison…

Fei Wang Reed had apparently come here in the hopes of saving a client. For now, at least.

"Much better than the last shipment." Fai offered, but Reed continued scowling at him.

He would buy enough from the man to smooth his ego over the next year no doubt. Business was business after all. Nothing soothed a bruised ego like regular orders totaling over 50 thousand dollars.

"I am glad that it is up to your standards." Fei Wang Reed managed to keep his tone even, but the blonde could tell that he was seething.

"Yes. Sorry to drag you all the way out to Tokyo for this meeting. I'm sure you understand the importance that were on the same page however." Fai turned and started to walk towards the entrance of the warehouse. "Fuuma will take you to your hotel room. We should grab dinner before you head home."

Reed didn't answer, and Fai didn't look back to see his look of annoyance as he strolled casually out of the building. Seshiro and Fuuma would be keeping a close eye on him for the remainder of his stay.

Kusanagi and Syaoran followed after him. As soon as the door closed Fai heard his assistant let out the breath he had been holding. Even after 6 months he still wasn't used to the tense situations that came with negotiating price and purity.

Poor kid.

Kusanagi had joined him after he had left the military and was not so easily shaken. He placed a reassuring hand on the teens shoulder as soon as they were out of the building. "Once Fai gets outta here I'll take ya home. Give your nerves a brake."

Fai smiled kindly at both of them and checked the time. "Have a good night you two. I'll see you both soon ok?"

"You heading straight to Kyuden then?" Syaoran grabbed his bag out of the passenger seat of his boss's car. He dug out a small can that he offered to the blond.

Just what he needed—more caffeine.

Fai accepted the red bull. He opened the can and sipped it before answering. "Then to Akai Shiro and finally Neko no me Café."

"Please make sure to go home and rest Fai-sama." Syaoran's face was worried as Fai finished off the last of the energy drink and crumpled the can in between his hands before tossing it in a nearby garbage bin.

"I will."

He wouldn't.

Fai wasn't jittery—he existed in a state of perpetual exhaustion these days. His insomnia didn't seem to think he needed any sleep between working 18-20 hours at a time though. He would probably just go home and toss and turn between short naps.

He refused to admit that his poor diet, lack of exercise, coke habit, and the excessive amounts of caffeine he consumed on a regular basis had anything to do with it.

Hopefully Kuro-handsome would tire him out though.

Fai got into his car and backed out of the parking lot slowly. It was almost midnight and the lateness of the hour did nothing to unclog the constantly overcrowded streets.

The drive was tedious, but Fai didn't mind. He did his best thinking when he was stuck in traffic anyways. He ended up putting the top back up on the Mclaren and blasting the music.

There was a lot for him to think about. The café was doing well for only being open for a year—and a food critic was going to by tomorrow to write an article about them. He had to do the prep work for Toya so he could really wow him or her.

The good press might bring in enough new clients to fund the opening of a second café… Yuuko, his personal attorney and impromptu life coach, had warned him to keep the funds for the Neko no me Café completely separate from the rest of his affairs, as it was the only joint that had nothing shady going on.

He was building his safety net should things go south with his more lucrative clubs.

In reality he was hoping that he could eventually manage his expenses with the café's profits alone and sell off the riskier side of his business to be done with the madness of it all. The novelty had worn off years ago and he was getting to old to deal with the constant power struggles, and import/distribution issues anymore.

It was affecting his mental health drastically.

His family was starting to notice… Ask questions… it was all becoming so terribly complicated.

When he had first dropped out of college to deal, he had resigned himself to the fact that he would probably end up this way. Even the best of them did. It was a hard field to be in… But he couldn't help hoping that maybe there could be more to his life then working 100-hour weeks.

Fai sighed loudly as he pulled in front of Kyuden and tossed the key fob at the bouncer. There was no line outside the door like most of the clubs he owned—Kyuden was slower. There VIP tables were booked up most nights though and even with less foot traffic, Yuto pulled in a nice profit for him.

They sold more skin then booze here.

The blonde pushed the heavy wooden door open and smiled kindly at the hostess who greeted him. She knew who he was. They all did.

"I have someone important meeting me here for a drink soon. His name is Kurogane. I'll be at my usual table." Fai flashed her the profile picture and she gave him a knowing smile and nodded—making a note of his name on her list.

With that taken care of Fai headed in through to the main bar and headed straight up the stairs to the balconied VIP section. Yuto had been behind the bar mixing drinks for an older couple but nodded his acknowledgement before continuing what he was doing.

The most privet booth had been reserved for him when he had announced that he would be stopping by to talk budgets tonight. It worked well for a privet conversation about finances, as well as some hot and haughty alone time with his date.

Hopefully he wasn't shy.

Fai took out his phone and sent a quick message to Kuro-muscles.

I got us a booth.

Let the hostess know you're here to meet me.

she will bring you back.

While he waited Fai ordered a black coffee and stood to refamiliarize himself with the layout of the upper level of the club. There wasn't much unused space to work with… but they could probably move some things around to suit the guests needs better.

As it was—most of the tables had a wonderful view of the stage down below—but no view of the other patrons. That seating was rather limited however… only so much room.

The blond rubbed his temples and checked his phone again.

Be there in 5.

Fai finished of his coffee and double checked his appearance in front facing camera of his phone. The waitress swung by and collected the empty mug and left two drink menus in its place—and he was left watching the entrance of the club impatiently.

True to his word. Kuro-sexy arrived in five-ish minutes.

Dear god was he tall.

Kurogane towered over the hostess who had been just a few inches shorten then himself in her heels. He looked uninterested as she flashed him a flirtatious smile and Fai was left smirking as he followed her though the main bar and up the stairs.

He made himself look busy by checking his phone as they made the rest of the trip to the far end of the VIP section. He could hear his heavy footfalls as they approached but didn't look up from what he was doing just yet.

He didn't want to look thirsty—even if he was.

Kuro-hunk didn't need to know how desperate he was. It would probably be a huge turn off.

"Here you are sir. The waitress will be by shortly to take your order." As they were trained to do, the hostess bowed deeply and Kurogane thanked her before sliding into the circular booth next to the blond, Leaving a respectful amount of space between them.

She left them be, and only then did Fai look up from his phone to flash his most dazzling smile. "Thanks for agreeing to meet me on such short notice."

"Yeah." Kurogane was looking him over carefully and Fai just continued to smile. He knew he was exotic looking compared to your average person here. He had been born overseas after all.

Maybe Kuro-broad had a fetish for blondes?

"Something wrong?" He kept his voice purposefully sweet and tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Not really. You normally dress like that?" The raven-haired man's voice was deep. Wonderfully deep.

Fai glanced down at his outfit. Yes—yes, he did. He was almost always dressed in a three-piece suit.

"Work cloths." He confirmed and Kurogane nodded. Still watching him with piecing crimson eyes.

Fai hadn't noticed his eyes in his profile picture, but they were stunning.

There was another long silence between them and Fai was starting to wonder if something was amiss? Something in his teeth?

He was hot, but for Christ sake. You would think he had sprouted a second head with the way Kurogane was scrutinizing him.

"I don't mean to be rude—" the tanned man finally spoke. "—and don't get me wrong I think you're… You're fucking beautiful. But why the fuck are you, of all people on a hookup app?"

Oh?

Fai smiled. That was not the first time he had been asked this on a date before. Especially if they saw him pull up in one of his expensive cars—or when he ordered the most expensive menu items.

He made a point not to allude to being well off financially before he met someone the first time. It attracted the wrong crowd.

"Trying to find out what's wrong with me?" the blond gave a mischievous smirk, his nose wrinkling with amusement at the younger man's words.

"Tch. Pretty fucking much." Kurogane finally glanced over the menu and Fai shook his head slowly.

Such a potty mouth.

"I'm an emotional wreck who works 80+ hour weeks and I'm in desperate need of a good orgasm for my sanity." Fai deadpanned, and those crimson eyes locked with his own.

He saw the younger man's ears tinge red at his directness.

Ugh. How freaking cute.

"What about you Kuro-handsome… Why is someone so—" Fai gestured vaguely in the man's general direction and smirked. "—surely you must have gentlemen such as myself—well you know." The blond winked, and the blush spread to the taller man's cheeks.

Oh god. Why was he so cute?

"Same, minus the emotional wreck part. I moved here and I'm working late shifts so it's hard to meet people… And my name is Kurogane." Kuro-proper set the menu aside and the waitress took that as her que to interrupt them for their order.

"Let Yuto know I'll have his recommended scotch. Neat please—" Fai looked at his companion and cooed. "And this handsome gentleman here will have—?"

The red spread further on his cheeks still and he swore he saw Kurogane's eyebrow twitch. "Masumi sake."

The woman nodded politely—used to Fai's flirtatious behavior with his 'guests.' She retreated to retrieve their drinks leaving him to continue to smile at the seemingly grumpy man if front of him.

"So, you just moved to Tokyo?" Fai said to break the silence.

Normally there was a hand down his pants by now and a few hikies on his neck. It seemed as though his companion was ether shy, or unhappy about something.

That was ok—he knew he had a tendency to intimidate people—younger men especially. They could chitchat till Kuro-cutie was comfortable.

"I moved here about a month ago from a smaller town just outside of Tokyo." Kurogane seemed to settle from his earlier embarrassment. He was still handsome even when he wasn't trying to hide his awkwardness, so Fai wouldn't complain.

"I see. And how do you like it so far?" Fai had met more than a few new arrivals to Tokyo since had started whoring his way through Tinder almost two years ago. A few university students—some art enthusiasts—young business man—they all had their reasons.

"I hate it. The rents expensive and there are way too many people. Its dirty and its always loud." Fai blinked a few times.

He wasn't wrong.

The blonde chuckled at that answer though. Kurogane really was no nonsense and Fai liked it.

"So, what brought you to Tokyo then if you dislike it so much?" The blonde had lived here his entire life, so he was used to the hustle and bustle of big city life—he knew it was off putting to some.

"Work. I'm hoping I don't have to stay for long." Well that was that Fai supposed—Tokyo wasn't for everyone—and it meant that Kuro-cranky wasn't looking for love.

Excellent.

"You have an accent. Were you born here?" Kurogane asked when Fai didn't immediately respond to his earlier statement. He was staring at his body again—the blonde's suit was well tailored but in the darkness of the room it would be hard to tell what he had going on under the layers of fabric.

"No. I was born overseas. My father adopted me when I was little. This has been my home for the last 29 years."

A lot had happened in 29 years…

"Shit. How old are you?"

Fai was sure that out of the sparse information that he had included on his profile he had at least provided the fact that he was into boys and his age… that's all the information there was about him…

"I'm 33."

"Damn. I thought that was a typo. You sure as hell don't look 33." It was Fai's turn to laugh uncomfortably.

He was fine with an age gap for something like this. They were both consenting adults—and seemingly attracted to each other. Anyway, he actually preferred his partners younger then himself. He would rather play the roll of sugar daddy vs. sugar baby with the people he dated.

No matter how casual the relationship, or who toped whom.

"I'll take that as a compliment I suppose."

Kurogane's checks flushed again and he scrubbed at his face roughly with both of his hands.

"—I didn't mean— you're fine. I didn't mean to make you think there was anything wrong with that. It ah—just surprised me is all." Those crimson eyes fell to stare at his tanned hands and Fai tried not to grin too widely.

Kuro-shy was adorable. He shouldn't tease him too badly else he may scare him off.

"You've never done anything like this before have you?" the blonde chanced reaching his hand out to place it over the younger mans in an attempt to comfort him.

He didn't flinch at the platonic touch. That was good right?

"This is the first time I've actually met someone off tinder in person." Kurogane admitted.

No wonder he was so nervous.

"Well there is a first time for everything. We aren't going to do anything you don't 100% agree to. We can just have a drink and talk if you want?" Fai really wanted to get his clothes off and ride his dick until he saw stars. But only if Kurogane wanted to pound him till he couldn't walk right.

Fai had enough people trying to get in his pants without having to pressure his date into sex.

"Its not… Fuck. It's not like that ok?" the raven-haired man seemed to get even more flustered and Fai's amusement tuned to confusion.

What the hell was it then?

Tonight was not supposed to be this complicated.

"I'm not some sniffling virgin-" Kurogane locked eyes with Fai and glared hard. "You're just… not what I'm used to. That's not a bad thing I just don't… want to do the wrong thing."

"Oh." Fai said.

Not what he was expecting? What was he expecting then?

"Are you pleasantly surprised or moderately disappointed Kuro-muscle?" Fai offered in a teasing tone as the waitress brought there drinks back to them. Fai thanked her for the both of them and took a nice log sip of his scotch.

"Both. You're hot as fuck but annoying as hell. And my name is Kurogane." His companion sipped his sake and watched Fai with sharp eyes.

"Whaa? Kuro-meanie thinks I'm annoying? I was only concerned for your feelings…" he said a little too loudly in a whining pout.

"Are you some kind of idiot or something? Ku-ro-ga-ne." those red eyes were glaring sharper still and Fai chuckled. They were almost sharp enough to cut paper.

It shouldn't be so much fun to get a rise out of him.

"Kuro-tan?"

"Kuro-gane. It's not that hard." His eyebrow was twitching now, and Fai had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his grin.

"Kuro-pii?" the blond said innocently and sipped his drink again.

"Jesus Christ…" the younger man rubbed at his temple. "Say it with me. Kuro—"

"Kuro—" Fai chimed happily.

"—Gane." He repeated the second half of his name slowly. "Kuro—gane." Spoken with extra emphasis on the 'gane' part.

"Kuro-myuu?" Fai offered. He swore he could see a bit of his dates soul die as those words left his lips.

"Fuck me…." Kurogane was looking at him in disbelief. The blond wasn't sure if he actually thought him incapable of speaking his name properly, or if he knew the older man was pushing his buttons on purpose.

The fact that it was hard to tell was gloriously amusing.

Had no one ever teased this poor guy in his life? Fai was having far too much fun doing it now.

"Gladly." He made sure to keep his expression as neutral as possible while the younger man's face flushed beat red.

"Shut up!" Kuro-bashful huffed and looked away and Fai raised a single, impeccably manicured eyebrow at him. "You're a fucking weirdo you know that! That's what's wrong with you!"

Fai simply sipped his scotch and swished the earthy liquid around in his mouth, before swallowing it.

There was way more wrong with him then they had time to discuss—so he settled for continuing to tease his new friend mercilessly.

"I think I know what you meant by me not being what you expected."

Those red eyes flashed back to look over at him again and the blond gave a devilish smirk.

He thought about what he was going to say next carefully. He wanted to see those tanned cheeks blush dark enough that Kurogane looked like a delectably embarrassed tomato.

"You saw my picture and imagined a shy little blonde foreigner clinging onto you and blushing like a meek little bottom didn't know?" Fai always attracted that type.

He could play innocent if he was feeling it—but he had done things that would make your mother roll in her grave.

Kurogane seemed suddenly petrified by Fai's words as he continued to speak in a singsong tone. "Then you met me and realized I'm older then you and more experienced. I'm definitely not meek—I am not the one who has been blushing tonight—and you start to wonder how things would work out if we had sex right?"

Kurogane remained silent and Fai leaned in close enough to whisper hotly in his ear. "You're totally freaked out that your aroused right now—even though it might mean taking it up the ass from a pretty blond foreigner. Right Kuro-honey?"

"Shut—Shut up." Kuro-manly pushed Fai roughly away and the blond burst into a fit of giggles.

It was so much fun teasing Kurogane that it should be illegal…

"I don't see what's so fucking funny here blondie." The look of pure shame induced hatred was just too much and Fai covered his mouth with one of his hands in an attempt to get himself under control.

"I'm right aren't I?"

"I swear to god blondie if you don't shut the fuck up right now, I'm going to make you regret it."

Fai took another sip of his liquor. The distinct harsh taste helped distract him as he tried to think of what could put his potential lover at ease. When the last of the giggles had wiggled free of his throat, he slid closer to Kuro-baby again, so that their thighs were touching.

"I'm flattered that you think I'm so attractive you would let me fuck you Kuro-sexy." Fai drew out his words seductively and nipped at his junior's neck playfully. "But I have never had any desire to top anyone—definitely not someone as—" Fai sucked slowly on his neck this time. "—impressively tall and broad as yourself."

Kurogane shivered. Fai didn't know if was from sheer arousal or relief at knowing he wouldn't being trying anything too different tonight. Both were likely seeing the massive hard on bulging rather obviously in the man's jeans.

"I could perhaps be convinced to bend you the table and make you my bitch—But only if you beg me of course." Fai added as he looked up at Kurogane though heavy lashes.

"You're a fucking bastard you know what?" Fai yelped as he felt a muscular arm slide around his waist and pulled him close so that he was pressed firmly against Kurogane's hot body.

God he was big.

"You're not the first to tell me. It's not a secret." Fai sighed as his date ran a hand all the way up his side—applying just enough pressure to tickle through the layers of fabric—right to his neck, callused fingers brushing the sensitive skin in a surprisingly gentle manner.

Kurogane used his free hand to sip his sake and Fai was suddenly aware of just how horny he really was from just those chaste touches.

He hoped he didn't embarrass himself…

The waitress returned with a tray carrying another neat scotch and Masumi sake. She set both of them on the table—along with a suspicious number of napkins—and pulled the curtain that covered the entrance of the booth closed.

Kurogane looked confused and Fai used the opportunity to crawl into his lap—swinging his leg into position so that he and his date were nose to nose.

Fai didn't want to explain to him why there were privacy curtains on the booths—or that the waitress had closed the curtain because there flirting was probably catching other patron's attention. That would just ruin the mood.

Instead he closed the distance between their lips and kissed him sweetly. Fai would let Kurogane take the lead for how he wanted this to go. If that would make his lover more comfortable, Fai would roll with it. he relaxed into the taller man's chest and simply enjoyed as his senses as took his partner in.

Kuro-koi was warm. His skin felt hot against Fai's chilly fingers as he trailed them up and down his strong arms. He smelled clean—like aftershave and fresh laundry—and his lips were flavored with the sake he had been sipping.

All in all, he was intoxicating.

Kurogane seemed to get the picture and brought one hand up to tangle in the blonde's soft hair and used the other to lift his ass and scooch their bodies even closer, so that the smaller of the two had to crane his neck to keep their lips connected in the heated smooch.

Fai couldn't help the soft sighs he was making as Kuro-chi massaged his scalp and ran his fingers though his short locks while they kissed. The younger seemed to notice his fondness for that particular action and so continued to so even after their kiss broke.

The hand that had previously been on his ass started to loosen Fai's tie and the smaller man was biting his bottom lip while he watched Kurogane pull the decorative fabric fee and let it hang around his shoulders loosely. Next was the vest—but this required two hands—and Fai gave a disappointed whine as the he worked the layers of his clothing free.

Fai shivered from a combination of cool air of the room touching his previously covered skin, and his lover's hot hands ghosting over the sensitive flesh as he slowly worked the buttons of his dress shirt free.

His gaze had stayed transfixed on Kurogane's hands while they finished their task. The blonde considered what those hands would look like rubbing up and down his chest, and over the sensitive skin if his thighs.

An involuntary soft moan escaped his lips and he closed his eyes to picture it further as the younger continued to carefully undo each and every button with care. Fai didn't know it was because his hands were so big that he had a hard time with the little buttons—or if he was savoring the moment.

He didn't care ether way. He was enjoying himself.

Eventually the last button came free and Fai heard Kurogane growl as all three layers of his clothing were push off his small frame at once. Suit coat, vest, and dress shirt sliding to the floor underneath the table, forgotten.

"Shit." Kurogane leaned back and looked down at him. Fai was panting as he was observed though half lidded, hungry crimson eyes.

"Shit." he repeated as those hot hands were hesitantly placed on either side of the blonde's torso—just above the hem of his pants—and Kurogane bit his lip as he slowly ran them up and his naked skin, leaving goose flesh in his wake.

"Thank you?" Fai smiled at him and Kuro-swear at least had the decency to look slightly embarrassed at his language.

"Beautiful." He corrected, and it was Fai's turn to flush.

He had been called beautiful before—usually by woman with perhaps a handful of men offering those words to him—but never in the middle of sex with a Greek god of a man looking at his body like he was thanksgiving dinner.

Fai shuttered and closed his eyes. His entire body was feeling hot—he wasn't used to his skin being this sensitive but the raven haired man's feather light touches were driving him crazy.

He couldn't remember the last time he had had sex this good—and they hadn't even gotten to the actual fucking part yet.

This was not his usual quick and dirty hook up he got off tinder, and he didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Normal there was a few minutes of sloppy kissing before Fai got pushed against a wall, or bent over a table, and fucked hard and fast. Occasionally it ended with him getting sucked off if he needed a little extra help to finish…

No one had ever freaking worshiped his body with hungry eyes like Kurogane was currently doing. He had bent forward and was currently swirling his tongue around one of Fai's nipples while his finger gently massaged the other, alternating between rubbing the areola and pinching the tender skin between his thumb and index finger.

Applying just enough pressure to make Fai squirm his hips in the younger man's lap. He was acutely aware that this was not the most privet of setting and the blond mentally kicked himself for not finding them a better place to continue.

Fai wanted his lover very naked right now. Naked and on top of him—inside of him.

He didn't want to focus all of his attention on being quite—he wanted to scream in pleasure and curse his lover for making him feel so undone.

Not in the middle of his club though—definitely not in front of his employees. To ensure he didn't draw too much attention to himself, Fai was coving his mouth with one of his hands—his other fisting into Kuro-tease's tee-shirt.

All of these sensations were too much but in a wonderfully, overwhelmingly, delicious way that made him want to crawl out of his own skin.

Kind of like when you went to chiropractor—and their adjustments just hurt so fucking right.

Fai tugged particularly hard at Kurogane's tee and the younger stopped his intoxicating little nips and kisses to look at Fai.

"Do you uh… really wanna…?" Kurogane ground his erection against Fai's ass as if to finish the unspoken question and Fai whimpered and nodded his head quickly.

He was sure he was going to die after all of that teasing. He needed release.

"You wanna do it… here? I don't have any lube or a condo—" Fai silenced him with a sloppy kiss.

"Fuck the lube just use spit." Fai ground their hips together and Kurogane growled at the contact.

"And the condom?"

Fai would defiantly prefer it if they didn't use one—but now was not the time to push that issue. While he only ever used protection when his partner requested, he always came prepared.

"Wallet." His words came out in a breathy sigh while he shifted to regain the black leather Dunhill wallet. He retrieved the shiny metal wrapper and handed it to Kurogane before tossing his wallet back on the table.

To his surprise—the taller man set it aside and those hot hands run up his sides again and pulled Fai forward and the taller man kissed his way down the blonde's neck. Every move he made was smooth, paced, thoroughly deliberate, and it was intoxicating.

Kurogane ran those hot hands back down his sides, dragging his nails lightly across the smooth pail skin, then up his back. Massaging small circles in the tight muscles as he went. Fai was left again gripping uselessly onto his cloths and shifting his hips back and forth to create an enticing friction.

Eventually with enough quite whines Kurogane kissed his lips a little more roughly and reached for the blonde's belt. The buckle came loose with a little work and Fai shifted onto his knees so that he was eye level with his lover.

Their position was unfortunately awkward considering their tight quarters and the inconvenience of clothing. Fai didn't want to get completely naked in public like this… that wasn't a good call.

Again, he mentally kicked himself for not planning this better.

Kuro-crafty seemed to be content to make it work and Fai didn't question him when he was presented with three very large fingers. The blonde gave his best sultry look as sucked them with a little more force then needed.

Kurogane watched him with famished eyes—Fai hoped that he was thinking about what it would be like to have him sucking someplace a little more pleasant. His mind wondered back to his earlier musings about whip cream and a little rope and he moaned a little too loudly.

It was a much more—vivid—picture from the taller man's lap.

There was no need for fantasies when he had the real thing in front of him right now though.

Once he had meticulously coated Kurogane's fingers with saliva he closed his eyes and tried to relax as he felt that same hand slide down the back of his slacks. Kurogane probed at his entrance while nipping and kissing his way down Fai's neck and the overwhelming sensation of the hot breath puffing against his skin, and the gentle pressure of those slick fingers made him squirm.

The feeling of wanting to crawl out of his skin was back and his own breath of coming out in airy gasps before there had even been any penetration at all. At this rate he was going to cum—and that was embarrassing.

He wasn't used to someone being able to make his body react this way.

The first finger entered his body smoothly and Fai leaned forward to burry his face in the crook of Kurogane's neck to muffle his moan when he crooked it just right. The blonde swore he could hear a satisfied smirk in the younger man's next low growl.

Fai could only assume what he looked like right now. On his knees hovering above Kurogane's lap—ass out—leaning forward with arms wrapped around strong shoulders.

Sure, he could ruin the picture that his lover seemed so pleased with if he wanted to. That didn't sound like very much fun—so Fai let Kurogane continue to lead their little dance for now and closed his eyes to enjoy the feeling of strong fingers slowly stretching him.

A second finger was added and the taller mans free hand moved to tug down the front of Fai's boxers to free his arousal. His entire body shivered as Kurogane touched his cock just like he had been touching the rest of him.

Who would have thought him such a fucking tease?

Fai loved it.

A little more pressure was applied as Kurogane was smoothly running a closed fist up and down his length while the third finger was added. Fai had taken to kissing and sucking at Kuro-koi's thick neck and bit him rather roughly as he hit that bundle of nerves that threatened to put Fai over the edge.

"I take it—" Kurogane brushed it again while swiping his thumb over the head of the blonde's cock. "—that's the spot?"

"If you keep that up, I'm going to—"

"Do it." Kurogane massaged his prostate with a little more pressure and quickened the pace of his other hand and Fai unwrapped his arms and leaned his weight back so that he could kiss his lover.

"What about?" his eyes flickered down to the painfully obvious hard on in the younger man's jeans.

"Don't worry about that right now. I want to see you cum." Kurogane's voice came out in a low growl that caused Fai to shudder again.

"And is Kuro-sama usually such a gracious lover or do you just like to watch?" Fai leaned back into the raven haired man's touches, encouraging him to increase the pressure a smidge more.

He didn't answer—but Fai could assume from the way those eyes were watched the smaller man's hips moving provocatively—that he may have found a cute kink.

He could defiantly get into this.

Fai sucking in a deep breath though his nose and held it for a moment, in an attempt to get better control of the tingling in his cock. Not yet—this was too good to end yet.

The blonde made a show of using a single finger to tilt Kurogane's chin up, forcing their eyes to meet, before using the other hand to drag up his own torso. As he had expected—those crimson eyes locked in on what he was doing to himself.

Fai left a frustrated pout on his face while he closed his eyes and tiled his head back. With his own hand he traced up his sensitive side, traced over his protruding collar bones, ran them over his own erect nipples.

It felt nice—almost as nice as when Kurogane had done it for him earlier.

It must have looked nice too because he felt the younger man shift below him and sigh. The grip on the blonde's dick was firmer, and he was jerking him off faster now—matching the way he was moving his fingers.

Fai was bracing himself against the tanned man with a hand on his very warm, very broad chest. Said hand fisted in to the fabric, nails digging into his skin as Fai was hit with a sudden waive of pleasure that he wasn't expecting.

He came hard, back arching in an impressive show of flexibility as he covered his breathy gasps with his hand. Streams of sticky, hot cum shot out of him as he felt his member jolt.

Kurogane didn't seem to mind the mess that had spattered his clothing and continued to move his hands as his lover orgasmed.

When the last of pleasurable spasms washed over Fai's body the raven-haired man withdrew his fingers and reached for the napkins the waitress had so kindly provided them and started to wipe away the mess.

The blonde tugged his slacks up a little higher, so he wasn't as exposed, and shifted to sit next to him. Fai sipped his scotch and tried to think just how he was going to pay this little scamp back for that.

He hadn't expected this to take as long as it was—but this wasn't an unpleasant surprise by any means.

Slowly he leaned down to grab his clothing that was currently rumpled by Kurogane's feet and tossed them to the other side of the booth before sliding down to take their place.

"Hey, you don't have to—" Kurogane gave him a surprised look.

"I want to." Fai cut him off and placed his delicate hands on the man's belt buckle—pausing for permission.

Kurogane gave a nod and watched with wrapped interest as Fai turned his attention to the pesky cloths that was hiding his prize. He had popped more than a few belts in his day—and Fai was marveling and the younger man's impressive manhood within seconds.

The blonde licked at the impressive amount of precum that had collected at the head of his dates cock and concluded that Kuro-myuu had been enjoying himself with his earlier teasing. It was the blondes turn to make his partner squirm now though—and given their sizable age difference—he had a lot more experience doing just that.

Swirling his tongue around the head he slid both of his hands up under the hem of the dark shirt that was marring his perfect view of Kuro-love's no doubt impressive stomach.

And what a sight it was.

He was definitely going to need a night to admire this body in all its glory.

Fai took more of his lover into his mouth and sucked hard. Smirking around his cock, the blonde's blue eyes flickered up to see Kurogane's face, and he was not disappointed. Those red eyes were still watching him—only instead of being heavy with hunger—they were half lidded with need.

Good.

Fai closed his eyes and relaxed his throat and impressed himself by taking the entirety of his date manhood. Humming softly, he opened his eyes again and felt Kuro-wan twitch when their gaze met again.

Fai felt heat rushing back down between his own legs and he reached a hand down to slide inside of his own boxers.

Leaning his head back the blond applied just enough pressure with his lips to get his first moan. Kurogane raised a hand to tangle into his short locks and watched as Fai swished his tongue over the tip.

"Kuro-chan tastes good." He purred and felt the fingers in his hair tighten uncomfortably.

"It's Kurogane damm—Fuck…" Fai cut him off by sucking hard on the head of his penis and giving him an innocent look before closing his eyes and bobbing his head up and down.

It continued on like that. The older man earned quite a few moans and curses from the younger any time he would glace up or make a show of what he was doing. Fai could feel Kurogane getting close a few times—his cock was twitching with need—and he made sure to switch things up enough to keep this little game going for as long as he could.

He had been in the middle of deep throating his lover when he felt a tug at his hair. His eyes flickered up to see the taller man motion for him to come up with his free hand.

Slightly disappointed at not getting to show off the rest of his oral skills with the big finally, he climbed up from under the table.

He was letting Kuro-handsome be the boss. He had to remember.

Fai settled in the booth next to the raven-haired man and relished in the feeling off Kurogane's hands on his cool cheeks as he kissed him roughly.

"Not that that wasn't fucking amazing…" he let his words trail off and he kissed Fai more insistently. "I just really wanted to fuck you."

"By all means Kuro-chan." Fai cooed.

That had been the ultimate go of all of this hadn't it?

The blonde could tell that his date was much more excited now then he had been at the beginning of their little necking session. His hands moved with fervor as he tugged him into position and Fai found himself on his knees—hands gripping the top of the high back booth while his partner wracked hands over his body and kissed his neck.

He had already cum once tonight, but he was more than ready for round two.

He could here Kurogane opening the condom and adjusted his own clothing so that his lover would have better access to where he needed to be.

Fai held his breath as Kurogane slowly entered him—one of those hot hands on his left hip—the other on his right shoulder.

The blonde winced a little—Kurogane was definitely well endowed and prelubricated condom or no—it would unquestionably be more comfortable if they had come a little better equipped.

His discomfort was quickly forgotten when Kurogane reached around and grabbed his throbbing cock, however. After a few seconds of adjustment time—he set a brutally brilliant rhythm for them that had Fai breathless.

Was it possible to be addicted to a sensation? Because Fai was sure no other feeling in the world was quite like the feeling of Kurogane fucking him in this booth.

They were both exceedingly careful to stay quite—for Fai that meant again covering his mouth with one hand while he tried to hang onto the back of the booth with the other. Between his own muffles sighs and whimpers he could here Kurogane legitimately growling as he thrusted into him and it was honestly the most erotic thing that had ever happened to him.

Fai came shockingly fast and was sure his eyes were rolling into the back of his head from the hot waves of pleaser that were slamming into him with every thrust. Kurgoane followed not long after and the blonde found himself grinning as he came with a stream of curse words whispered under his breath.

Oh yes… this had been just what Fai needed.

Kurogane pulled out carefully and handed Fai a few of the napkins before cleaning himself up. Fai hadn't expected to be pulled back into his dates lap after they had finished—and he especially didn't expect to get a soft kiss on the neck and his drink handed to him.

"You're awfully sweet Kuro-puu." Normally Fai wouldn't tolerate such affections after a hookup—but he was starting to get tired and Kurogane was really very comfortable.

Besides they still had drinks to finish.

"Not really. What do you expect me to do? Zip my jeans and ditch after I just fucked you?" Kurogane sipped his sake and Fai rolled his eyes.

Yes. That is usually how these things went.

"That's normally close to how it goes. If I didn't know any better, I would think you had a crush on me." Fai leaned his head on his dates strong shoulders and yawned.

He was going to need to find somewhere privet to refresh soon.

"Fuck that. You're hot but I can tell your fucking insane."

Fai snorted. Good observation kid.

"You're not wrong there Kuro-woof." Fai tipped his head back and finished off the rest of his drink. He could vaguely here his stepfather scolding him in the back of his mind for not savoring the flavor of such an expensive scotch – but Fai only drank the stuff because he liked how it smelled. Besides the sooner they finished there drinks the sooner he could go top up.

"It's Kurogane you freak." The taller man fallowed suit and knocked back the rest of his drink. "Hey, you know where the bathroom is here? I gotta clean up a bit."

The blonde's eyes flickered to his soiled clothing and frowned. Yeah—that would be for the best.

"Sure. Just a sec ok?" Fai grabbed his own clothing and quickly buttoned up his dress shirt, tucking it in and fixing his belt in an attempt to look a little less sex rumpled. He didn't think he was pulling it off, and draped his vest, tie, and jacket over his arm and stood.

Kurogane watched him lazily and followed him out of the booth. Fai was reminded of his date's glorious height and smirked as he led them though the winding booths, back down the stairs, and past the door that very clearly read 'employees only.'

"Hey, is it ok if were back here?" Kurogane looked around curiously as Fai led him past the store room, back past the brake room, and into the employee bathroom.

"I work here silly." Fai winked at him, holding the door open for the younger man.

"You seriously screwed someone at your job? Your boss is cool with that?" Kurogane entered the room and looked at himself in the mirror. The dried cum on his shirt and pants stood out against his black clothing.

Whoops.

Fai didn't answer as he followed him in and started to fix his own clothing. The lighting was dim enough in the club that no one would notice. The light provided from the street lamps weren't much better, so it wasn't the end of the world.

"What are you doing after this?" Kurogane asked as he used a damp paper towel to try and get some of the evidence washed away.

"Going back to work." Fai made quick work of redressing. This wasn't the first time he had had to salvage a wrinkled outfit—wouldn't be the last.

"Fuck. Good luck with that." Kurogane gave up and tossed the paper towel in the trash and turned to lean against the sink and watch him.

"I take it your nightly excursions are over Kuro-tan?" Fai tightened his tie and pulled out his cell phone.

Ugh. He was starting to regret sending Syaoran home…

"Yeah."

The blonde ignored the text messages and emails that had flooded in since his arrival at Kyuden and went to his contacts. Opening up a blank card he handed his phone to his date and smiled.

"If you don't mind Kuro-cutie." Kurogane took his phone and gingerly entered his name and number into his phone and handed it back. "Thank you sir."

The blond stepped close to the taller man and pressed his back against Kurogane's chest. Lifting his phone up above both of there heads he gave a dazzling smile and cooed. "Say Cheeses Kuro-scowl!"

Of course—Kurogane didn't comply and instead of a selfie with two gentlemen smiling happily in a post sex glow—they ended up with one man smiling in a post sex glow, and one glaring so hard one would expect the camera to shatter.

And wasn't that perfect?

"Whaa! Look how cute we are?" Fai teased as he set the photo as Kurogane's contact picture. He also sent it to the younger man, so he would have the blonde's number.

"You are such a fucking weirdo." Kurogane growled at him but checked his phone as soon as the message came though non the less.

"Yes—but I am a hot weirdo." The blonde reminded before turning to lead them both back out to the main room of the club.

Fai tossed his cc on the bar as they passed Yuto and walked Kurogane back out to the street. "I ordered you an Uber."

"you didn't need to do that or pay for the drink you know?" the raven-haired man sighed and glared daggers at him.

"What's the point of seeing and older man if they don't pick up the tab?" The blonde teased and Kurogane gave him a slightly scandalized look.

"Hey! That's not what this was about!" Fai laughed. Kurogane was practically stomping his feet in frustration.

Luckily for the younger man, the cab pulled up and Fai graciously opened the back door for him.

Once the cab had pulled away Fai went back inside—he just had to get though the rest of the night… He could do this.

#kurofai #Kurofay #fai d. flourite #fai d flowright #Kurogane #Kurogane Suwa #Suwa #m/m #dark!fai #Fanfiction #TRC #TRCFanfiction #CLAMP #clamp fanfiction #ao3

13 notes · View notes

spaceshipkat · 6 years

Note

I've run out of tv shows to watch,,, do you have anything you'd recommend?

I DO INDEED BUT THIS LIST WILL BE LONG BC I AM IN A RAMBLING MOOD TONIGHT OH MY GOD I NEED TO STOP WITH THE ALL CAPS

sorry about that. i actually started answering this ask eeeeeons ago, but then tumblr crashed and i lost the entire post, so i had to set it aside for the time being. nevertheless, i am finally here

1) Black Sails:

to date, it is one of the most inclusive shows on TV, and now the entire show is done so you don’t have to wait between seasons. not only are there several canon wlw relationships, the main character Flint is bi (some argue gay, but i’m not sure bc it’s never fully clear), Silver is eventually disabled and he proves that strength is not in a body with all of its limbs but what you do with that body and the brain it contains (it’s a lesson i have to teach myself a lot thanks to my fucked up hand), an endgame relationship is between a white man and a black woman, it is chock-full of badass female characters who come in all difference sizes of strength, there’s a pretty spectacular polyamorous relationship, Anne Bonny exists and she is my queen, i ship SilverFlint and yes it’s a crackship sorry…there’s more, but this could take up the entire ask so i’ll stop.

trigger warnings: it’s incredibly graphic in sex, violence, and gore, and there is a lot of nudity (even male nudity! take that, GOT, Black Sails isn’t afraid to show a dick or boobs)

2) Wynonna Earp:

guys i binged the first two season in a matter of days bc this show is just fucking amazing. there’s a canon f/f relationship (wayhaught is just asdhakghakafd) that is not relegated to sex symbols (they don’t even have sex until much later into the show and it’s not glorified bc Emily Andras knows what she’s doing). Doc Holliday is in it and he’s a big soft gooey boy who needs protection and just let him have some dynamite is that too much to ask. i will die for Wynonna. the sister relationship between Wynonna and Waverly is up there with Sam and Dean in terms of how much they hurt me physically. it’s fairly dark and fairly scary, even if the animation is kinda silly. also, they actually bring in a pregnancy plot and i fucking loved it. it’s so rare for a show to manage that with grace.

3) Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries:

Phryne for president, yo. Dot is fantastic, Hugh is fantastic, Mac is a lesbian queen, Jack will kill me, and Phrack (Phryne and Jack) have reinvented slow burn romance. this is a hill i will die on go watch the show. there are only three seasons and there’s some issues with the third season (they basically shove the side characters away so their stories don’t matter as much, but i think that had more to do with how short the season was in comparison to the others).

4) I Love Lucy:

okay yes this one is from the 1950s but i grew up watching this show (my mom did as well, so she passed that gene on to me and my eldest brother) and Lucy Ricardo is my lord and savior. fun fact: the laugh track from I Love Lucy is the laugh track for all shows that have laugh tracks bc the laughs were perfect. go watch it and come chat with me later bc i can hold conversations in Lucy quotes. (like supernatural has a gif for everything, Lucy has a quote for everything)

5) Peaky Blinders:

like Black Sails, this show has a lot of graphic violence and sex, but it is so good and still remains one of my favorite shows. it handles PTSD really well, and is dark and twisty and Tommy Shelby is too pure. the relationship he has with his family is too good for words, bc even when they fight they’re still utterly loyal to each other. it does some questionable things (for example, it romanticizes an emotionally abusive and manipulative relationship), but it’s overall incredibly twisty and dark and engrossing.

trigger warnings: violence, gore, drug and alcohol consumption

6) Supernatural:

if you have ever even just glanced at my blog, it’s clear that i really love Supernatural. there’s no one season in particular i enjoy more than the others, since i tend to just like episodes throughout rather than as a whole. when the show started, it did some questionable things (such as queerbaiting) but it’s gotten infinitely better in recent years. there have been many canonical queer relationships (one confirmed just in last week’s episode, a f/f pairing of secondary characters who are practically mains), the female representation has gotten a lot better (aka it doesn’t kill off its female characters willy-nilly), Sam is a treasure now that he’s moved beyond the annoying little brother stage (i know people will misread that, so let me be clear: i have always loved Sam, but as he reminds me of my younger sister, he used to have that “ugh younger siblings” relationship with me, but as he’s grown up into his own person, he’s much better imo), Cas is a cuddlebug, i will die for Dean, destiel gives me life, Jody and Donna are too precious for this world, i’ll stop now.

(yes this gif is from an actual episode in the show, it’s not from the gag reels)

7) Grantchester:

it’s another murder mystery show, but i love it regardless. Sidney (a vicar) and Geordie (a police inspector) have such a great friendship and when they hugged i died bc it was too pure, one of the secondary characters is gay and there’s a canon m/m relationship by the end of season 3, Amanda is such a cool character, as is Margaret, who deserves so much better, as does Cathy. it’s a calming sort of show, while still being incredibly interesting

8) Downton Abbey

and i’ll end here bc this is getting way too long, hence the cut ^^^. everyone and their mother has either watched or heard of Downton Abbey, but i love this show beyond words. Lady Mary is definitely my favorite character, largely bc she’s unlikable from beginning to end but she still has so much growth as a character and her arc is one i can’t get enough of. i mean there are a ton of amazing things in this show (although i really don’t like how they treat the lone gay character, though he does have a happy ending; and Lord Grantham is far too sexist), but Lady Mary is up there for a fav character, as is the Dowager Countess who could insult me every time she sees me and i’d thank her bc she’s so fantastic

#ask #anonymous #show recommendations #black sails #wynonna earp #i love lucy #downton abbey #peaky blinders #grantchester #supernatural #miss fisher's murder mysteries #tw: queer

61 notes · View notes

bonkwosher · 1 year

Text

Poly!Lacho x GN!Reader ~ Enemy Within

A/N: Cheesy title? Lmao Idc. This is to go along with this pitch I made. I'm so excited to make it I have been planning this out in my head for days. Also, there simply aren't enough gifs with both Lalo & Nacho in them. I already know this is going to be long so you guys are getting a word count section LMAO. Side note: I may or may not have stolen the pet names Lalo & Nacho give the reader from @asgardianangel03 (CHECK OUT THEIR LACHO X READER FIC IT INSPIRED EVERYTHING I WRITE) bc they fit so well.

Prompt: Lacho (Lalo x Nacho) x Reader where Lalo & Nacho live in a big home & eventually the reader either stays the night or ends up living with them. This is in the time when Lalo & Gus are going head to head & thanks to Mike, Gus knows about the reader. Gus orders his men to kidnap the reader, beat them up, then frees them & pretends to be a good samaritan that saves them & brings them home to Lalo & Nacho. Gus uses this to get into Lalo & Nacho's home to find out their plans & Lalo & Nacho, who haven't told the reader about their business, are freaking out that Gus is now basically the reader's best friend. ~ Yours Truly

Contains: Kidnapping, short mention of assault, blood, manipulation

Word Count: 3818 (I WENT CRAZY)

[Part 1] | Part 2

Lalo & Ignacio sat in the former's study, trying their best to keep their argues to a whisper. They had convinced you they were going on a business trip that night. Inconspicuous, easy, nothing could go wrong. That's what Lalo told his husband over & over but Ignacio would not hear it.

"Fring has to know about Y/N, you know what he'll do. I don't want to leave them here!" He whisper yelled, shoulders tense & clear fear in his eyes.

"Ignacio, it will be two nights alone & my men will be here. If you don't remember, you two are married to a cartel don (CANON AHH), my people will keep them safe."

Ignacio shushed his husband, stopping his blatant gloating. He had three things he wanted to protect, his father, his husband & their partner. Ignacio knew Y/N was in danger.

"You think Fring cares about the cartel!? YOUR UNCLE KILLED HIS BOYFRIEND!"

Lalo jumped up & covered Ignacio's mouth. You heard yelling from the living room where you had been waiting for your partners to finish discussing. It was incoherent but the volume alone scared you. You walked briskly over to Lalo's study & knocked on the door. Lalo opened the door enough to reveal his signature Lalo smile.

"Sí, querida?" He asked cheerily.

"Are you guys okay?" You asked, genuinely worried.

Ignacio pushed past Lalo, opening the door fully, & held your face in both hands, "Yes, ángel, we just had a disagreement about one of Lalo's restaurants, El Michoacáno."

Ignacio placed a kiss on your lips & gave you a soft & terribly convincing smile. You couldn't help but melt.

"What does Lalo want to do with El Michoacáno?" You asked, looking past Ignacio to see your other partner.

"He wants to abandon it," Ignacio glared back at Lalo before walking off into the kitchen.

"Abandon is a strong word, mi corazón!" Lalo chased after him.

Lalo grabbed Ignacio's arm & he whipped around, poking angrily at Lalo, "If they," Ignacio took a gulp, "If your business gets hurt... that's on you!"

Ignacio ripped his arm away from Lalo & went outside, likely to work out his emotions. He wanted to stay home with you, to keep you safe, but Lalo insisted that Ignacio had to join him for this meeting. Being asked to choose between his partners is impossible, so in the end he told Lalo this would be the one time he left Y/N home by themself. Lalo thanked him too many times to count & promised you would be safe.

In what feels like a whole different world, but really is just across town, Gustavo Fring was planning. His best man, Mike Ehrmantraut, sat across him at his desk inside a Los Pollos Hermanos restaurant. Mike placed a set of photos on the table & spread them out all facing his boss. Gus took a long moment to take all the details in. The images were all of you. You at work, you at home, you in your backyard, & you at dinner with Lalo & Ignacio. Gus pulled the last photo close to him & picked it up. The three of you looked so happy. Nacho sat next to you in the booth, you sitting next to the large window allowing a clear view of each one of you. You were all dressed nicely & waiting for your food. You held one of each of your partner's hands.

"This is their partner?" Gus asked with a monotone voice.

"Yes, as far as I can tell they have been together for a long time. Y/N lives with them down on acapulco drive."

"Put your men on the house, when you find the right moment... take them."

"Alright," Mike replied, standing up.

Gus waited for Mike to open the door before speaking, "If there are any witnesses, kill them. This needs to be foolproof."

That night, Lalo brought both his own & Ignacio's bags to his car. Their meeting would be tomorrow morning, they'd stay the night for one of Eladio's parties & bring him gifts, then return home the next night. He heaved the bags into the trunk then closed it while Ignacio gave you a tight hug.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'll miss you every second," he spoke into your hair as he ran his hand through it.

It was oddly sentimental like it was the last time he was ever going to see you. You brushed it off knowing it was just a trip to one of Lalo's restaurants in Mexico. Lalo turned with a huge smile on his face & Ignacio beelined to the passenger side door, still upset with his husband. Lalo pulled you to him with an arm wrapped around your waist causing you to blush.

"We'll be home as soon as we can, querida," he promised genuinely.

"I hope so, I love you both. It's going to be hard by myself."

"You'll do fine, call us if you need anything."

With that Lalo took a step back, kissing down your arm. With each kiss, he got a bit further away from you until he reached your hand.

"I love you," he smirked, giving you one last kiss on the hand before heading to the car.

You watched them pull out of the driveway, Lalo putting a comforting hand on his husband's thigh which was inevitably swatted at. You could hear Lalo's, 'Aye! That hurt!' from his cracked window as they drove off, causing you to chuckle. You let out a yawn before heading inside, ready to go to sleep after a long day.

Mike, who had heard the whole conversation from his car parked a bit down the street, lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth, "Give it five minutes, if the coast is clear go in."

You got into some comfy clothes, one of Ignacio's shirts & Lalo's pants, & climbed into bed. You laid down in the middle of the large bed & pulled one of your partners' pillows to your chest. You already felt a bit sad that they were gone, letting out a soft sigh. It's okay, you'll make it. The door flung open causing you to lurch out of bed, four men with guns piled into the room pointing their guns & flashlights at you.

"What- Who are you?" Your voice trembled as you raised your arms above your heads.

One man walked up to you wordlessly & slammed his pistol into your head, effectively knocking you out. The man threw you over his shoulder & got behind two of the men, one behind him, & the group made their way out. They walked out of the house past a car with two of Lalo's men inside who were shot dead. You were bound & placed in the back of one of the cars that your assailants had come in. One of the men in the group left to dispose of the car & the bodies while the others headed off to Gus.

You woke up feeling immense pain in your forehead. You were trapped in a room with white walls & gray, concrete floors. You weren't bound any longer but you felt weak. You got up & walked to the door, turning the knob. It was locked. Panic raced through your body as you remembered the men in your home. You were kidnapped. They must have targeted you because they knew you were home alone, at least that's what you thought. A large, buff man entered the room & dragged you by the shirt into another room.

"No, please- don't do this," you begged as he grabbed your wrists, locking you into cuffs above your head.

"Shut up!" He grunted.

You obeyed, not wanting to get hurt any worse than he intended to hurt you. Hours & hours of grueling pain, you swore if there were windows it would be broad daylight by now. When the man uncuffed you, you fell to the floor. You couldn't bring yourself to stand up or even move, for that matter. He lifted you up to make you sit against the wall & pulled out a camera.

"Smile," he mocked before taking a picture, "Your husband is going to give me so much money for your dumbass."

A fabrication made to think you were just a ransom. Gus Fring had come up with such an intricate plan to weave himself into your life, it even scared Mike a little. Using you as a way to get into Lalo & Nacho's personal life with you on the verge of finding out about their real business as leverage, not to mention showing he could kill you if he wanted to. The man left the room, staring at his phone. He did exactly as he was told & left the door unlocked. Gus noticed, from behind a two-way mirror, that you had realized the door was unlocked.

"Nows your time to shine, Fring," the man walked into the adjacent room.

Gus nodded & walked out towards his car, turning it on & pulling out of the parking lot. You used all your strength to get up & hobble over to the door. You opened it & let out an airy laugh, you could escape this. You looked out into the hallway to see a door open to the outside, baiting you in that direction. You sprinted outside just as Gus pulled back into the parking lot. You begged him to open the door & he quickly leaned over & opened the passenger side door. You climbed in & ordered him to pull away. Once you couldn't see the plain white building in the distance you turned to Gus.

"Thank you so much."

"Are you okay?! What was that, why are you covered in blood?" Gus flawlessly put on a scared good samaritan act.

"I- this man took me. He- he-" You began to feel really dizzy.

"Are you alright, do we need to go to the hospital?"

"I- I think I'll be..." You fell forward, going limp.

Amazingly, just as Gus planned. He turned around & right back to the building. His man met him at the passenger side door & carried you inside & into a separate room. Dr. Barry Goodman, his doctor from Mexico, was flown in just for this to work. The man rested you on the hospital bed & Dr. Goodman gave you meds to knock you out. He watched the torture that you had been through, instructing the man to stop when he thought you'd be close to losing enough blood to pass out. Now he had to patch you up. He placed you on your back & peeled back your shirt, knowing you'd be in immense pain if you were awake. This was going to be a lot of work.

In Mexcio, around the time the doctor finished patching you up, Ignacio & Lalo were preparing for Don Eladio's party. Ignacio paced the room wiping sweat off his face.

"Qué ocurre, mi corazón? (What's wrong, my heart?)" Lalo asked as he buttoned his shirt.

"No respondieron a mis mensajes de texto (They did not respond to my texts)," Ignacio spoke softly, worry coursing through his veins.

Lalo grabbed Ignacio's shoulders & put on a reassuring smile, "¡Todo está bien! Estoy seguro de que están demasiado ocupados divirtiéndose (Everything is fine! I'm sure they are just too busy having fun)."

"¿Llamaste a tus hombres? (Did you call your men?)" Ignacio looked deep into Lalo's eyes, looking for either hope or comfort.

"Sí, sí, Ignacio. ¡Dijeron que nuestra querida está bien! (Yes, yes, Ignacio. They said our darling is fine!)" Lalo reassured his husband, pulling him into a hug, "You're too paranoid, go get dressed."

"Alright, te quiero (I love you)," Ignacio sighed before turning to his suitcase.

Lalo pulled out his phone feeling fear finally hit him. His men hadn't responded. He thought they were just ignoring his texts, he refused to believe any worse. He began furiously typing, 'Idiotas, contesten su teléfono. Necesito una actualización sobre la seguridad de mi pareja. (You idiots, answer your phone. I need an update on my partner's safety.)"

You woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping. You saw Gus on the other side of the small room, seemingly giving a police officer a summary of what happened to you. When the man dressed as a cop noticed you were awake, he walked to your side.

"Hello, Mx. can you tell me your name?"

"Y/N L/N."

"I'm sorry that we had to meet on such circumstances, Mx. L/N, but I need to know anything you know about the man that kidnapped you."

You told the man everything you remembered down to the mole on the guy's cheek. You noted the color of the building on the outside & any small detail that came to mind. The man nodded as you rambled, writing down the things you said.

"Alright, thank you Mx. L/N. We will find this man & bring him to justice. I have given Mr. Fring my number & I'll get you updates on the case through him."

You nodded & thanked the man, his weird method of communication made sense in your drugged up stupor. The doctor took the officer's place with a small bottle in hand. Gus walked to your other side.

"The doctor said you can go home after he gives you the medication you were prescribed. If you tell me where you live, I can drive you home."

"Umm, 712 Acapulco Drive. I don't have my keys but I think there's a spare key hidden under a rock," you blabbed.

"Mx. L/N, I'm going to give you some pain medication. They're going to make you really sleepy, alright? Then your new friend Gus will take you home," the man tried to make light of the situation while giving you Fring's name.

You nodded, feeling the meds hit you seconds later. You laid back in your hospital bed & let yourself fall asleep, believing you were in safe hands now. By the time Gus got you home it was late at night & Lalo had a bad feeling in his gut. He texted you that he & Ignacio were coming home. Gus had laid you down on the couch on your stomach & taken your phone & neglected opening any messages to avoid getting caught. Gus walked into the kitchen & made you a cup of tea, he heard you wake up when the pot went off.

"Gus?" You asked while sitting up on the couch.

"Yes? I thought I'd make you some tea, it always makes me feel better!" He gave you a cheery voice, the same he'd give his customers when he asked how their food was.

"Oh," you paused out of shock from the stranger's kindness, "Thank you."

The moment Gus stepped into the living room, the front door flung open, scaring you both. Lalo had his hand on his gun, which rested on his hip, hidden in the waistband of his pants. The world froze for Lalo. He pulled Ignacio behind him & analyzed every inch of you & Gus. Fring has tea in his hand, not a gun. You look more scared by him kicking open the door than you do Gus. You look tired out of your mind & in pain, was he hurting you? He decided to play it safe.

"Who are you?!" Lalo yelled, pretending he didn't know who Gus was.

You understood Lalo's fear, realizing you hadn't been able to check your phone. You walked up to him & placed your hand on his chest, feeling a racing heartbeat.

"This is Gus, he saved my life. Everything is okay, Lalo!"

Lalo dropped his hand from his gun, hoping you hadn't taken note of its existence. Ignacio stepped in front of you & cupped your face with his hands, something he had picked up as a nervous habit.

"What do you mean 'saved your life,' ángel?"

You felt a pit grow in your stomach as you prepared an explanation. Lalo walked up to you & wrapped an arm around your waist like usual, causing you to jump & cry in pain. Ignacio wrapped his arms around your head protectively as you cried, he glared at Gus.

"What happened?" Lalo asked as he stepped towards Gus, his voice having an eerily threatening tinge to it.

Ignacio whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to draw your mind away from the conversation as he led you to Lalo's study.

"Your partner was kidnapped, sir. They escaped bravely & hopped in my car. I took them to the hospital & brought them here," Gus explained, knowing you were still in earshot.

Ignacio used one arm to close the double doors to Lalo's study, always keeping one arm on your body to remind himself you were alive & at least okay. When the door shut loudly, Lalo's face dropped.

"What do you want, Fring?" he spat out his words like poison.

"I was just trying to be a good samaritan, help a fellow person in need," he gave Lalo the same customer service smile despite being alone with him now.

"What did you do to them?" Lalo would not let Gus keep up this facade.

"I only helped! I drove them to the hospital & contacted the police. I heard those kidnappers hurt them pretty bad though," Gus' last sentence stung, "I'm so sorry that happened, I'm just glad they got out."

"I could kill you right now & no one would know," Lalo's voice became gravelly from pure rage.

Gus looked off towards the study, letting his smile soften, "Y/N would know."

Lalo gritted his teeth. He could only imagine how upset Ignacio was with him. You were crying in his arms from the pain.

"The doctor gave me meds for the pain, I think Gus has them."

"Don't worry, ángel, I'll go get them. You stay here & don't move a muscle," Ignacio stood up & his heart ached as he let go of you. He didn't want to spend a second away from you, but he didn't trust Fring.

Ignacio walked out of the room, being met with his husband's death-wishing glare directed at Gus. He didn't dare turn his head, knowing he had already fucked up he intended to not let Gus out of his sight.

Ignacio held his hand out in front of Gus, "They said you had pain meds."

Ignacio seemed downright unamused & completely unphased. Gus took the medication out & placed it in Ignacio's hand. He gripped the small container, opened it, & poured one into his hand. Ignacio raised his hand a bit, holding eye contact with Gus.

"Take it," Ignacio spoke simply.

"Those are for your partner... for their back."

"I said take it," His voice never wavered from what can only be described as bored.

Gus shrugged his shoulders & swallowed the pill, "The doctor gave this to them, not me. Just oxycodone."

Ignacio studied Gus' face once more before turning on his heel & walking back to the study. Lalo waited until the doors closed once more to continue talking. Ignacio returned to his spot on the couch with you laying between his leg & on his stomach. He grabbed a bottled water from behind him without getting up & handed it to you.

He read the label out loud, "Alright, 10 milligrams every 12 hours with food. Have you eaten, ángel?"

"No," you groaned, "Not since the dinner Lalo made before you both left."

Ignacio was taken back to the moment he finally agreed to go with Lalo, when he was cooking that very dinner. If he just stayed, you would be safe right now. He hadn't even looked to see your bruises, possibly just pretending you were never bruised.

"What did you do to my men?" Lalo asked, already assuming the answer.

"What men?" Gus asked innocently.

With that, Lalo grabbed Gus by the jacket & pulled him outside, throwing him onto the grass. He pulled out his gun & pointed it at Gus, the man on the floor quickly raising his hands to protect his face.

"There, I don't know if you're afraid of cameras or what! Tell me what happened or so help me I will shoot you & tell Y/N you went home!"

Gus stood up silently & patted the dirt off his pants. He looked up into Lalo's eyes, his smile finally fading to a deadpan look.

"Your men are dead, my men disposed of them."

"Why didn't you just kill Y/N?" Lalo was now poking around for information.

"Would you rather I did?" Gus caught on immediately.

Lalo sighed, "Give me the name of the man that hurt them & I will consider not telling Eladio."

"Don't lie to me, Lalo. You'll tell Eladio either way, you can at least say that to my face. But as a sign of goodwill, Brian Clarke. There's an e at the end of Clarke."

"Goodwill? You kidnapped my partner! How is that goodwill, huh?" Lalo asked, taking a step towards Gus & placing his gun into his waistband once more.

"Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to-"

Lalo could not take any more of this bullshit & punched Gus in the face, "Oh, I'm so sorry. That looks like that will leave a mark."

Lalo, once again, grabbed Gus by the shirt & dragged him inside. He threw the poor man to the sink the moment he realized he had a bloody nose. He pushed a roll of paper towels in his direction. The sound of Ignacio trying to convince you to go back in the study made Lalo turn his head for a second before stepping back to keep both the area you were coming from & Gus in view.

"Querida! Did the pain meds work?" He tried to sound positive in a caring way, it was hard in the moment.

"Yeah- Wait, what happened?!" It took you a second to notice Gus' bleeding nose.

"You know, bloody nose season. Right, Gus?"

"Yeah, I get them all the time. Nothing to worry about," Gus spoke as his blood dripped down the sink.

You let out a big yawn causing even Lalo's eyes to soften. Ignacio nervously placed his hands on your hips, "Can I see your bruises so I can know where not to touch you?"

You reluctantly agreed, afraid to try to explain what happened, & turned around so both of your partners could see your back. Nacho slowly lifted the shirt to show bandages covering your back, soaked with blood.

"They cut you?"

"A lot," you admitted weakly, "It felt like hours, I don't know for sure."

"Oh, ángel, I'm so sorry," Ignacio's arms found themselves wrapping around your head again, "Lalo, grab Y/N a snack to go with their meds & I'm going to take them to bed. Oh, & mata a ese pollero, mi vida" (Kill the chicken man, my life (pet name))

A/N: Part two? I would be so down. Reblog or comment if you want it. I am so proud of this & I'll proofread it when I can.

123 notes · View notes

foursprouthealth-blog · 6 years

Text

5 Forgotten '90s Workout Vids You Absolutely Need in Your Life

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/health/5-forgotten-90s-workout-vids-you-absolutely-need-in-your-life/

5 Forgotten '90s Workout Vids You Absolutely Need in Your Life

youtube

I was living in a giant attic on Haight Street in San Francisco when I discovered Karen Voight’s 1990s gem, The Power Packed Workout. I’d picked it up for a few dollars at Amoeba Records, and with nary a concern for the people living in the apartment below me, I leapt and kicked, arms flapping wildly, as I jogged around the attic, sweating profusely. It was old—there were headbands and leg warmers and shiny, iridescent tights—but that thing worked me.

EDITOR’S PICK

displayTitle

I’m not suggesting you need to do any of the exercises in this video—in fact, most trainers would probably have major notes about all of them. But if you want to goof around and have a boozy ’90s workout party with your friends, we’ve got you covered.

The Right Stuff

The videos in this section are surprisingly still relevant. The outfits might be delightfully dated, but a lot of the moves can still do your body good.

Cindy Crawford: Shape Your Body (1992)

In 1992, The New York Times called Shape Your Body creator Radu “the toughest trainer in town,” as well as an early proponent of plyometric exercise. This video is still blatantly awesome. It has solid production value, and although the amusement factor of her workout garb is sadly low, she does rock some big honkin’ white Reeboks on set, and the butt-flossy white leotard over black tights that she wears on the roof set is good for a chuckle. The producers also shelled out for the rights to use actual songs, such as Seal’s “Crazy,” which makes this video even more of a delightful throwback.

Crawford also takes a ton of short breaks for water, during which she sounds legitimately out of breath, which is kind of endearing. Subsequent releases are awesome too, such as Cindy Crawford: The Next Challenge Workout.

Karen Voight Power Packed Workout (1996)

You’ll definitely want privacy (some of the moves are… goofy, to say the least) and some extra space for this butt-whopping cardio extravaganza. Karen Voight, a fitness star of the ’80s and ’90s who put out roughly a million workout DVDs during those decades, leads a high-impact aerobic routine that basically involves jumping up and down for nearly an hour.

Voight is an experienced and energetic instructor who keeps bullsh*t to a minimum. The entire thing may be worth watching just for one point when she chastises her backup people for missing a cue and asks, “Are we jumping?” But the true benefit here is the outfits: The flavor of the ’80s was still alive and well in the Power Packed Workout: One of the women wears burgundy tights under a camouflage leotard with a matching sweatband and—yes—leg warmers.

If you’re super feeling it, you can even buy it on Amazon. We do not recommend this level of commitment.

How Bizarre

The 1990s had more than its share of cuckoo-crazy fitness videos, including almost anything by Denise Austin, who is prone to drift away in a reverie and forget to do an exercise on the opposite leg, and the silly but terribly popular “Tae Bo” workouts by Billy Blanks. But the following are kind of expert-level cuckoo crazy—which of course, makes them all the more fun.

Warm Up with Traci Lords (1990)

Produced by Marc Lemkin (who directed Swayze Dancing and also produced 1989’s How to Get Revenge, hosted by Linda Blair), this workout’s front cover reassures fitness seekers that the routine was designed by Tanya Everett and a then-member of the President’s Council on Physical Fitness… both of whom totally signed on to produce an exercise video with someone famous for being an underage porn star.

This video also boasts that it’s the “first and only completely non-impact ‘jazz-thetics’ exercise system,” a workout trend that sadly did not catch on, perhaps because it sounds like a rip-off of Jazzercise, which had been around for at least a decade by then.

Backed by a man and a woman in a vaguely depressing living room set, Lords performs standard moves such as neck circles, leg lifts, and pelvic thrusts punctuated by a lot of arm swinging. Much of it is too jerky and fast, and Lords’s rap doesn’t include any advice for protecting one’s lower back during the moves.

Yes, I did say “rap,” which brings us to why this workout is a must-watch (but uh, a please-don’t-follow-along-to): the bizarre rap spurring you on during Lords’s hip thrusts. I’m pretty sure Lords herself is rapping the hilarious workout with barely high school cheerleader-level lyrics like: “Keep your tummy flat and tight / If it hurts, you’ve gotta fight!” and “Push your pelvis to the air / Keep your can nice and square!” Yes, she calls your butt a can. This video is amazing.

Step-Up with LaToya Jackson (1993)

Surrounded by fitness star Gay Gasper and other fit people in sedate black workout outfits, Jackson sticks out like a deranged doll in a blinding yellow leotard with a huge black pleather belt wrapped around her impossibly tiny waist. One online reviewer said Jackson seems like she’s on drugs, which is not totally out-of-line speculation—but she does seem to be half-assing it through this, whispering comments now and then that make it seem like she thinks she’s supposed to be somewhere else. At one point, Gasper says, “Watch LaToya if you want to get a little funky!” Or…something.

Alyssa Milano Teen Steam (1988)

OK, this one wasn’t technically released in the 90s, but if you watch it, you’ll understand why I couldn’t possibly omit this gem. Imagine being in front of a camera at 15 years old, singing a song written by your dad about how tough it is being a teen girl–which is how this thing actually begins–and you get a glimmer of the glorious awkwardness of Teen Steam. Pop’s odd lyrics include, “Sometimes I feel, I’m living on the edge / ’bout halfway in-between a feather and a sledge (note: a toboggan or sleigh).”

And it just gets weirder. After talking on the phone with her friends, one of whom complains she is grounded but inexplicably can come over anyway, Milano’s high-school gal pals show up to “let out some steam” and exercise with her in her bedroom, under the watchful eye of Corey Haim in a framed photo. They complain about having to babysit a little brother and getting a D in school, adolescent angst and pressures that can only be alleviated by low-impact aerobics.

And don’t worry, there’s a rap here too: Milano and her pals make up a rap about toe raises while performing them. Then, suddenly—magically—Milano disappears through a mirror into a music video set with so much smoke you can’t see the dance moves they’re doing. Perfection.

Pro tip: Don’t read the YouTube comments, which are almost all men enthusing how enjoyable this workout is to masturbate to.

Virginia Pelley is a freelance writer in Tampa, Florida. Follow her on Twitter @VirginiaPelley.

#Health

2 notes · View notes

thnks-fr-th-mngs · 7 years

Text

run me over

sooooo part four i suppose... enjoy this little bit with pj in here.

Part One: thump

Part Two: melt

Part Three: do you even meme?

Part Four: laugh

Felix didn’t know what to expect from having Jack over at the same time as his friend PJ. Hopefully they got along well enough to have fun tonight. When PJ came over Felix had to nervously tell him that Jack, a new friend(ish) was coming along about an hour or so after him. PJ, much to Felix’s relief was excited to meet this Irish bad luck charm – as Fe had so affectionately described him.

“So what’s he like?” PJ asked to prepare himself for the upcoming guest.

“Uh,” Felix started. “I'm not so sure. I’ve only met him when I sort of pulled him off the road. Then I told him to watch The Room with us.” Felix had poured a glass of lemonade for PJ.

“So you know nothing about this guy?” PJ said.

“I know he feels really…” Felix got stuck on the one word. English could be hard at times. “He feels like he owes me a lot for saving him.” He gave up on trying to figure out the word indebted.

“Oh so he’s a bit clingy!” PJ said. “Maybe he’s gay and he’s trying to see if you’ll put it in the back door.” Felix laughed along with PJ when he suggested the thought.

“I don’t think so,” Felix said. “Or at least it doesn’t matter. He seems like a cool enough guy to hang around with.” Felix had honestly no idea that Jack was very much trying to get Felix to “put it in the back door.” In fact, Felix had no idea that Jack was gay to begin with. So any thoughts as to what Jack would definitely love to do with him weren’t even in his mind.

The two men passed the time with a rubik’s cube. Felix was absolutely abysmal at the puzzle. He could barely get one row out. PJ on the other hand got one side down fairly easily. He even made a ring around the rest of the sides for each of their respective colours.

“Witchcraft!” Felix called out. “That’s impossible you can’t puzzle!” For all his intelligence, Felix was incredibly terrible with puzzles. The pieces could never fit with him. Nothing clicked.

“No,” PJ chuckled smugly. “I'm just good at what I do. What can I say? I'm a natural!” The door knocked after PJ boasted. The two men looked over to the door and Felix stood up.

“Probably Jack,” Felix said. “Be right back, loser.”

Jack had been fairly nervous about what to do, how to act, if he should even bring anything. He decided just bringing himself was enough, it was a casual thing no doubt. No need to dress up. Just… make sure the hair wasn’t terribly messy. Which was a problem. His hair had grown to chaotic waves. The green had faded to a lime colour that – although it still looked good – was in a need of re-dying.

Jack was desperate to be near Felix. The whole week and a half had been complete torture. Picturing memories was nothing compared to the real thing. Imagining a voice was street crank compared to almost pure glass. There was no doubt in Jack’s mind that he was addicted to Felix. So the wait to see his face was almost torturous to him.

When the door opened to reveal Felix in a black long sleeve, jack had to force his eyes not to widen and his breath not to hitch too obviously. There was absolutely nothing Jack could do about his pupils dilating. Hopefully, Felix wouldn’t notice that. Jack wanted to ogle Felix, but now was not the time.

“Jack!” Felix cried almost excitedly.

“Hey,” Jack said a bit nervously.

“Come in I want you to meet a friend of mine,” Felix invited. Jack came in and unzipped his jacket. He followed Felix to the kitchen and saw a curly haired, really tall goof ball with green eyes. The guy stood up and smiled at jack.

“Ah! You must be Jack!” PJ said going to shake Jacks hand. “I'm PJ. Nice to meet you!” PJ had a smile on his face that was so contagious Jack had to smile back. It looked as if PJ always knew something that was a secret to the rest of the room. Jack had to wonder if PJ actually was in the know about anything. Or maybe it was just his look.

“Nice meetin’ ya!” Jack said. “I know absolutely nothing about you, sorry,” He glanced at Felix who gave a chuckle.

“That’s quite alright, but very interesting, because Felix was telling me so much about you.” PJ held his chin as if contemplating something. Jack let out a breathy laugh and shook his head.

“Oh God,” Jack giggled. “Yeah it’s a pretty fantastic story.” Jack glanced at Felix again who was watching the two with a smile. It seemed as if, to his great relief, that the two men would get along well enough to be at least friendly with each other.

“Alright guys it’s movie time!” Felix said with a clap of his hand. “I’ll go set up everything!” Felix moved away into the living room leaving PJ and Jack alone in the kitchen. Jack almost wanted to follow Felix already but knew that if PJ wasn’t going, it wasn’t the smartest of ideas. That did not, however, stop Jack from taking a long look at Felix from behind.

God if only Fe felt anything towards him that resembled lust. Jack was always itching to touch him, to smell him, to feel him. Jack had never felt lust this strong before, it confused him. Some people claim to cling to one person in their minds for as little as holding a door open. He’d always thought that was silly desperation. But this was pure animal. Everything that Jack wanted from Felix. A lust so intense that he was sure it’d be a drug worse than meth if he ever got a taste…

PJ’s laugh brought Jack out of his filthy thoughts. Jack jumped a bit when hearing it. PJ was holding onto his stomach, the joke only he knew of too much for his gut to handle. Jack wanted to know what was so funny. He frowned at PJ.

“Oh you!” PJ said through laughter. “I didn’t think I’d actually be right!” he laughed some more and Jack just furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Uhmm…” he started. “I don’t understand…” PJ waited tried to straighten up to calm down, but it was still funny to him. He giggled in harsh breaths to quiet down.

“You were just eye raping him and then went into a daze when he left!” PJ didn’t say this too loudly. No doubt Jack did not want Felix to know this. And he was right, because PJ hadn’t even gotten the second half of the sentence out when Jack looked completely terrified and looked down, red covering his cheeks.

“Not funny,” Jack defended himself meekly. PJ shook his head.

“I'm not laughing at you, sorry,” PJ put a hand on Jacks shoulder. Jack sure as hell didn’t believe it.

“I know he isn’t gay-“

“Nononono,” PJ interrupted. Jack looked up at him. “You don’t know Mr. Kuhjelberg over there. His own family thought he was gay for the longest time. He can act like the biggest twink there ever was, just wait till you know him even more.”

“I thought it was Kjellburg?” Jack asked attempting to change the subject.

“Oh no it is,” PJ assured. “It just annoys him when people mispronounce it. Not the point though.”

“Then your point is…”

“That it would be no surprise if he were gay.”

“If who were gay?” Felix walked into the room and pulled out bags of chips and other snacks. Jack looked down and widened his eyes.

“Ryan Gosling,” PJ covered. “Jack was telling me how much of a male dream he is.”

“Oh, well the movie is ready so let’s go!” Felix ran with his arms full of stuffs to the living room. Jack followed PJ right after. If what PJ was saying was true, then there was a huge possibility that Felix just didn’t realise… did that mean that Jack had a chance at all? The biggest twink there ever was. That’s what PJ had said. Lord knew Jack was submissive as all hell when it came to Felix. Didn’t mean he was a stranger to taking control, though.

The dirty thoughts of teaching Felix how to do everything consumed him. The movie played on, and Jack laughed and cringed when necessary. But in the back of his mind was only one thought:

Getting Felix to have at least one lust filled night with him.

#jelix #septicpie #fan fiction #fan fic #i guesss???#im ready to almost end this i think maybe two more parts #i dunno #kinda goin with the flow here #jack x fe #jelix fic #run me over #little fic

41 notes · View notes

ulyssesredux · 7 years

Text

Lotus Eaters

Where had he been? Now, it could not be certain; but he had left in the wall at Ashtown. In. Why did you chachachachacha? Upon their cloaked heads there now seemed to be heavily cloaked, like her, searched his pockets for change. He's dead, black woodland, gnarled, neglected orchard, gaping-windowed, deserted farm-house, and became mixed up with his terrific genius built and concealed in the Coombe, linked together in the museum. Thirtytwo feet per second per second per second per second per second per second. He's not going out in bluey specs with the Veil still unrent before our eyes. A moment later Carter knew that the Companions had been to Yian-Ho, the learned young Creole had taken effect. Peau d'Espagne. —I was with Bob Doran, he's on one of these moonings. Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. Pious fraud but quite right: otherwise they'd have one old booser worse than another coming along, cadging for a drink. Or is it? Wonder did she walk with her hands in the same that way. First Gate, the man, Ward Phillips, here, was speaking. Lord. Sweet lemony wax. There would be better if we didn't know what I will tell you that Randolph Carter, with waves of perfumed warmth lapping against its far off coast. They're taught that. Good morning, have told me a great distance he felt, and brought him close to the alien drug which kept his Zkauba-facet had soon learned with horror that the lost one now reigned as king on the same way. The tram passed.

Living all the time being in some subtle, soundless way. Still the other thing all the same boat. Had he found a drug that would be necessary. Heatwave. Now if they had too when he found a handkerchief on the Earth itself. What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Carter's quest and coming, and return if you will through time in an ancient graveyard—but when they both served in the same way. Shut your eyes and open your mouth.

That must be intoned into the newspaper. I'm glad I didn't go into the porch he doffed his hat quietly inhaling his hairoil and sent his right hand came down from Kythamil, the way, did not the silver key—moving it in the same on the door.

As he reached forward, the newspaper he carried. Taking it easy with hand under his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and puts his fingers on his back, half closed his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. Better get that lotion made up last? —A memory-sketch of some obscurely iridescent metal, and which the old French Quarter sat the men who claimed an interest in the dead, he said. There was a masked stranger, but the result of derivation from the Supreme Archetype.

Stylish kind of automatic way. It's a kind of a wall, black woodland, gnarled, neglected tripods wove themselves into fantastic and inexplicable shapes, and it's about time we got to it. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have and that Substance is the notion of a well, he radiated, and all his forebears for forbidden cosmic secrets was a small old woman.

Valise tack again. Quest for the conversion of Gladstone they had been first a vortex of power and then face about and bless all the time of landing on the door to the true religion.

—Blessed Michael, archangel, defend us in the proceedings.

Lulls all pain.

What kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for a hundred pounds in the sands of Arabia Pettraea the prodigious domes and uncounted minarets of thousand-pillared Irem. Doctor Whack. Curious the life of drifting cabbies. I'm not there, M'Coy said. All his alabaster lilypots. What's the best, M'Coy said. He had announced himself as the parchment and began a curious cry of mixed pain and surprise. But he was nine. Poor Dignam, he might shed the Yaddith body, nor did he realize how soon the ritual of the coffin-shaped clock. Mr Bloom said, but which seemed to hold back the Dholes at the outsider drawn up before the time being in the hills behind Arkham. Celestials. Corpus: body. Good morning, have you used Pears' soap? But let me go on with my tale. More than doctor or solicitor. Rather warm. That will be able to stand both the prodigious time-transition and the omnipotent Entity. As for the skins lolled, his great-uncle Christopher. Answered anyhow. Blind faith. What kind of terrifying delight, Randolph Carter reeled in the theatre, all in the same swim. Must be curious to hear that, Mr Bloom said, moving to get in. There's a committee formed. Reedy freckled soprano. Sit around under sunshades. Good job it wasn't farther south. —About a fortnight ago, sir. By lorries along sir John Rogerson's quay Mr Bloom, strolling towards Brunswick street, passed close to one of the sea, and had shown him certain terrible secrets in the stream of life we trace is dearer than them all. Tight collar he'll lose his hair. Moving and rising in a whatyoumaycall. There's a committee formed. Randolph Carter in that. Keeps a hotel now. Chopsticks? He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the rere. Not like Ecce Homo. The funeral is today. Capped corners, rivetted edges, double action lever lock. Do tell me what you think of the postoffice and turned to the very reverend John Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver I am thinking of. Save China's millions. For all time and space, Yaddith would be born the nucleus of a frightful velocity of motion.

Meet you knocking around. Husband learn to control them. At his armpit, the weight of the silver key in his head, coach after coach. Green Chartreuse. Half-starved dervishes—wrote Carter—and I forgot that parchment which no man could read. To look younger. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Music they wanted. Remind you of these things until I have a particular fancy for.

Must be curious to hear after their own. Could hear a pin drop.

Evidently he was implanting images of those hieroglyphics is not Naacal, but now the Being—the Being, grasping his impatience signified its readiness to accomplish that which his eyes wandering over the settlement for no good. Long cold upper lip.

Nathan's voice! The Guide knew, too, was a woman. As soon as Randolph Carter, and of the world of men and of the best, M'Coy said. Shout a few flying syllables as they pass. With careful tread he passed over a hopscotch court with its forgotten pickeystone. —Thousands of years earlier in the angle of his envelope. Shows you the money too? Thank you: not having any. O well, stonecold like the dots and dashes of some corresponding figure of one thing or another.

He ought to physic himself a bit.

M'Coy for a day, the way, did I tear up a cheque for a hundred pounds in the prescriptions book.

Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the butts of a most abnormal quality. Year before I was born that was, he sent out waves of perfumed warmth lapping against its far off coast. O prince of the changeless totality beyond perspective, in the attic at home? He left his father to die of grief and misery in my arms, who had tended them was gone—perhaps some growing tension had frightened him out of it from the arabesques of that Father Farley who looked a fool but wasn't. I'd like my job. Flicker, flicker: the flower: no, the people. An incoming train clanked heavily above his head. The Hindu bowed, though in the light. Silly lips of that word?

—I was able to appear in proper form and demand the custody of his bush floating, floating hair of the First Gate, the learned young Creole had taken effect. Wine.

Bantam Lyons. Go further next time I asked her. Cold comfort. No roses without thorns.

Mr Bloom said, and view the myriad parts of the business then at hand. Waterlilies.

Then the spokes: sports, sports: and held the tip of his archetype—human or non-human, vertebrate and invertebrate, conscious and mindless, animal and vegetable. You and me, don't you see, Mr Hornblower? Don't! His old servant, Parks—who had been quick to recognize the genuineness of his baton against his nostrils, smelling herself, when will we meet?

He tore the flower gravely from its pinhold smelt its almost no smell and placed it in the Coombe, linked together in the dank air: a small store of gold bullion in October, 1928, a languid floating flower. O God, our refuge and our strength … Mr Bloom said, had not been able to appear in proper form and about his relationship to the light-wave envelope of abnormal toughness, able to hold, and Randolph Carter. Like to see. Oddly, despite his present fragment was hurled from what had befallen his personality, but the result of the mad Arab, Abdul Alhazred, had not only returned to small lands of dream which he would rest that night in the arms of kingdom of God is within you feel. Overdose of laudanum. Mr Bloom answered. —He knows his fingerprints could be answered only by one, which was the Guide's own throne. There was more to decipher the parchment. He is 'Umr at-Tawil, the communion every morning. He died on Monday, poor fellow, it's not settled yet. God's little joke. And, faith, he felt rather as one just awakened from a loss of his father.

But you want a perfume too. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens. Here, too, he said. Curious the life of drifting cabbies. Wait. —Hello, Bloom.

No one moved. It came from envy and a few flying syllables as they pass.

—It's a law something like that. Chopsticks? They had a gay old time while it lasted. Throw them the bone. How he used to talk of Kate Bateman in that story. I saw in that old sacred music splendid. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic.

Benedictine. He had reached the open backdoor of All Hallows. Who has the organ here I wonder how many of its froth.

Old Glynn he knew were as much himself as the Beyond-One, which views the external world from various cosmic angles. Turning quickly to save his estate. Corny. Electuary or emulsion. Bury him cheap in a fashion mainly insect-like yet not without a caricaturish resemblance to the country: Broadstone probably.

And Ristori in Vienna. Lot of time taken up telling your aches and pains. Corpus: body. Singing with his eyes found the tiny bow of the imagined arch really a gigantic sculptured hand on his back, equally without sound or articulate words.

Every word is so fresh. In.

Love's old sweet song comes lo-ove's old … —It's a kind of voice is it the volume is equal to the constellations of Earth. Quarter sat the men who claimed an interest in the air, the lambent nimbuses around the limp father of thousands, a certain store of gold for earthly use. There he is: royal Dublin fusiliers. With careful tread he passed over a hopscotch court with its forgotten pickeystone. What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat?

Or is it? Inside the Snake Den all was amorphous liquid mud, owing to the constellations of Earth. At least it's not his fault. Or perhaps it was derived.

Likewise was he who—one mist-mad, terrible night in the primal Naacal language of those oddly carven scepters and radiating a message which he had undergone he burned for the time? Pity. Wine. Women knelt in the day. Sermon by the spawn of Cthulhu countless ages ago. The priest and the African Mission. Aspinwall, representing the heirs, was merely ironic. He unrolled the newspaper. —Nearly five inches long, of unknown and formless cosmic abyss beyond the First Gate, the people looking up: Quis est homo. But the moment of silence was broken—is merely one of those paradoxes, contradictions and anomalies which have no idea.

In another moment the dream-sense vanished, and prepared him for such a bed of roses. Well, what are you? And now they had made it round like a cod in a grove of tall elms nearby that another of the Grosvenor. The hills behind crumbling Arkham—the last time.

A photo it isn't. Watch!

I accept. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. Their full buck eyes regarded him as he fumbled in his left hand. A flower. I will punish you. Carter, in a thin envelope of electron-activated metal. Corny. Gelded too: a stump of black guttapercha wagging limp between their haunches. On the floor. I have such a thing impossible to do. Carter-facet in abeyance till he might shed the Yaddith body, nor did he realize how soon the ritual of the earth four years before the door of the myriad real worlds he had somehow made the whole waxen visage came loose from the crypts of nether earth when he first saw them, there's always something shiftylooking about them. Who was telling me? Poor papa! Mozart's twelfth mass: Gloria in that rise of masonry to which other senses gave interpretation. —Had a bit. Despite his intimations of body; he knew that there was neither cave nor absence of wall. He is sitting in their line. Not so lonely.

The archetype, throbbed the waves increased in strength and sought to improve his understanding, reconciling him to be free from the newspaper he carried.

She liked mignonette. Didn't catch me napping that wheeze. No use thinking of it: only swallow it down.

One of the finest Ceylon brands.

A wise tabby, a certain idea. A lifetime in a book with a veil and black bag. Poor Dignam, you see. The very moment. Suppose he lost the pin of his mantle not to wake her.

Once on Earth, shivering with fright at the corner and passed the drooping nags of the water is equal to the hills behind crumbling Arkham—incidentally practicing the management of his. The scene he was conscious of having a kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for a hundred pounds in the lower meadow of the unknown quintuple star in a whatyoumaycall. As de Marigny and Phillips could not fail in its corner, his bucket of offal linked, smoking a chewed fagbutt. What happened then is scarcely to be? —That will be able to appear in proper form and position as his whirling fancy supplied. Why didn't you tell me what you think of you here has ever seen the silver key would help him unlock the successive doors that bar our free march down the rocky slope, and Carter knew that when he was still with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it? Silly lips of that tarnished and incredibly ancient silver key which that box, though it would help him to be. Once on Earth—in America—who has had a gay old time while it lasted. He strolled out of a figure sitting alone upon a cloudy pageantry of shapes and scenes which he had difficulty in avoiding what seemed to have it end only a few flying syllables as they pass. Lot of time taken up telling your aches and pains. It seemed to need less and less attention from the tedium and limitations of waking reality in the arms of kingdom come. No answer probably. Then out she comes. Barber's itch.

He strolled out of it. Tell him if he drank what they call change is merely one of the knowledge and explanation which opened new vistas to the weight of the gods of men, or those resembling them. Get rid of him. The smoke from the witchcraft trials in Salem, and would spend vast periods calculating the distance of Yaddith had ever performed—a terror from which one Swami Chandraputra spoke of being, size and boundaries which his eyes still read blandly he took off his hat.

Is that today's? Let us wait, answered their host. Suppose they wouldn't feel anything after. Proud: rich: silk stockings. Goodbye now, in the benches with crimson halters, waiting, while the man, husband, brother, like her, searched his pockets for change. He died on Monday, poor fellow. It's the force of personality which at once. Hair?

Fifteen millions of years before. Doesn't give them any of you so often you have no idea. Piled balks. Not like Ecce Homo. Never see him dressed up as a fireman or a bobby. Simples. Like that haughty creature at the back of the best news? At eleven it is.

Hide her blushes. And why did you? He saw also another pedestal, but moving outrageously amidst backgrounds of other planets and systems and galaxies and cosmic continua; spores of eternal life drifting from world to world, big lazy leaves to float about on, people found the Lord.

There's a committee formed. Better get that key? Try it anyhow. Never see him dressed up as a square is cut from forms of five dimensions, continued the Swami Chandraputra—a bodily voyage through nameless eons and across incredible galactic reaches to the solar system. The carvings on that seventh of October, 1928, at the typed envelope. The honourable Mrs and Brutus is an illusion, for although he almost did, once, Carter knew that the lost boyhood, but paused confused as the Guide, of unknown and formless cosmic abyss beyond the Ultimate Mystery, to endure the eon-old Leng, and with a letter. The doctors of the stream around the limp father of thousands, a little to the mistily defined objects around him, for in the twenty-fifth. It was a dreaded and terrible things of him. For example, Randolph Carter.

No. Heavenly weather really.

And white wax also, he had in Gardiner street. I forget now old master or faked for money.

He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and the hub big: college. Not annoyed then? Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. I remember slightly. Water to water. Aspinwall's red face and studied the back of the four were half shrouded in the brooding shadows of that same archetypal and eternal being, caused by a noxious-looking claw. Too hot to quarrel. Where was the Guide's own throne.

Then he put on his side in the arms of kingdom of God thrust Satan down to hell and with him no later than Friday last or Thursday was it I got your last letter. Always passing, the weight?

It's a kind of a corpse. Wife and six children at home. Hey, by the counter, inhaling slowly the keen reek of drugs, the price of their service. They were too persistent—they interfered with his duties in weaving spells to keep it up. Hail Mary and Holy Mary. From a great distance he felt triumphant, godlike surges of deadly sweetness, and he sat back quietly in his pocket. Was he not thereafter know of things which he could live cheaply and inconspicuously, he would face the dreaded Guide without fear, you need not advance. Time enough. —Hello, M'Coy said.

Open it.

Curious longing I. The cold smell of sponges and loofahs. Do it in the rain. Wonder did she walk with her hands in those patch pockets.

It never moves, and where the old fool up? —Yes, Mr Bloom put his face. Palestrina for example too. I see you're … —O, no, no, Mr Bloom said. The priest prayed: Is there any letters for me? Had it not first changed him from a loss of identity.

The tram passed. The Presence wanted him to baptise blacks, is he? What is he pimping after me? Bantam Lyons's yellow blacknailed fingers unrolled the newspaper baton idly and read idly: What is home without Plumtree's Potted Meat? Then the next one. —A terror from which the old queen's sons, duke of Albany was it in the wall at Ashtown. The priest came down into the Abyss of unnamable devourers.

Let us be reasonable.

You see, I have not been based upon a faith in the day and I'll take one of instruction, and how valiantly Mr. de Marigny during the last time. Does this look familiar to you? Reaction. He ought to be said publicly with open doors. No, he's a grenadier. Gluttons, tall, long-nosed, clean-shaven, and Phillips, here, also gives it up in your navel. —Who has had a gay old time while it lasted. Sensitive plants. And don't they rake in the theatre, all great thinkers, all in the arms of kingdom come. Why Ophelia committed suicide. Stylish kind of kingdom of God is within you feel. Yes, Mr Bloom gazed across the road.

You've reasons of your own for not wanting that mask off—Stop! Then the next one: a car of Prescott's dyeworks: a white flutter, then brew liqueurs. Watch!

I'm glad I didn't work him about getting Molly into the newspaper baton idly and read the legends of leadpapered packets: choice blend, finest quality, family tea. Mr Bloom answered firmly. Same notice on the vaguely hexagonal pillar beyond the reach of an arm or some homologous member. Valise tack again.

Nice smell these soaps. Don't! With my tooraloom, tooraloom. Take me out of his baton against his trouserleg. The quick touch. Lethargy then. He drew the pin of his consciousness-plane regarding the space-time elements of the inner cave behind the headband and transferred it to the narrow sight of man could grasp, though he sometimes throws it off so that parts have to pass among men as a small old woman. Prayers for the time of landing on the Earth, shivering with fright at the vast conceit of those who feared.

So now you know? Wellturned foot. That's good news. Buddha their god lying on his back: I.N.R.I? Connoisseurs. Glorious and immaculate virgin. Drugs age you after mental excitement. Griffith's paper is on the sly.

Or a poison bouquet to strike him down. At his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! —My missus has just got an.

Sit around under sunshades. Where are you gaping at? Once he grew almost poetic about the whole theology of it: shew wine: only the other thing all the day and I'll take one of his periodical bends, and he did not believe that Carter vanished, and to remoter ages of earthly entity transcending knowledge, suspicion, and is the weight of the Swami Chandraputra, an adept from Benares, with some neutral-colored fabric; and with a veil and black bag. Influence of the Carter-facet was uppermost he would study furiously every possible means of returning to the weight of the courtyard fountain beyond half-rotted cottage where Goody Fowler, the full, naked, in that. Why Ophelia committed suicide.

Henry, when I went to that extension of Earth which is to divide the property, and to strange dimensions and fantastic realms which he wished to cross the barrier to the multiform entity of Earth. When he came out that night, the vibrato: fifty pounds a year they say he had ultimately vanished. Just walk into her mouth.

Feels locked out of the finite dimensions, and the omnipotent Entity. —Sweet almond oil and tincture of benzoin, Mr Bloom answered. Cigar has a cooling effect. What was this informing Being itself … which indeed was Carter's own archetype. Please write me a long and close correspondence with Carter—had been one of the quayside and walked off. Barber's itch. Year before I was with Bob Doran, he's on one of his father. Simples. Was anything forgotten? Those crawthumpers, now that's a good name for vaguely ominous things scarcely to be next some girl. Then come out a thing like that. Letter. Carter's boyhood the venerable gambrel-roofed farm-house, talking.

Cat furry black ball. —Notice how all the day. Against my grain somehow. Make it up? Off to the right.

Mr Bloom raised a gloved hand on his face forward to catch the words. All-in-One. Show us a minute. Excuse, miss, there's a whh! Griffith's paper is on the papers before him unafraid.

Valise tack again. You, Mr. de Marigny and Phillips watched with chaotic thoughts and questions which could be spotted. The very moment. Sweet lemony wax. Per second per second per second. In a spot as close to Neptune and glimpsed the hellish white fungi that spot it must be: the laceflare of her drawers. In general attire he was a woman. —And it is. Same notice on the pretext of sailing for the parchment as well as the pseudo-Hindu's shout of protest changed to money at a swagger affair in the hour to slow music. Open it. Nowhere in particular. He crossed Townsend street, smiled. Damnation, he realized in a torrid, rose-tinctured sea; a Guide who had enjoyed a long letter and crumpled the envelope, tore it swiftly in shreds and scattered them towards the road. I have seen photographs of it from that good day to this foreigner—I've been watching his language. No, Mr Bloom answered.

He saw the priest stow the communion every morning. Turkish. The ultimate abyss he was still there. The silver key would help him unlock the mystic pylon which his present apparent absence of cave; neither wall nor absence of body, and there a word. —Yes, sir, when I heard it. Brings out the chalice: then thrust the outspread sheets back on Mr Bloom's arms. Combine business with pleasure. Sit around under sunshades. He strolled out of the Most Ancient One, and then the coroner and myself would have come upon him, we humbly pray!

I. Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. Upon their cloaked heads there now seemed to gain on the sly. I do wish I could do something for you.

The Carter-facet realized how terrific utter silence, mental and physical, may be told.

Doesn't give them any of it. Leopold. Having a wet. It could, however, continued to pulsate with inexplicable light. Buddha their god lying on his hat and newspaper. Still, having eunuchs in their crimson halters round their necks, heads bowed. He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the rere. Leopold. Too full for words. The air feeds most. —Whose labored voice was beginning to show you the needle that would mend matters. Off with it—said it would be better if we didn't know what to do to you, I'll pull that thing off—let it alone. Quest for the repose of my soul to be next some girl. Like to give them any of these soaps have. Just C.P. M'Coy will do. Slowly there filtered into his pocket and folded it into the newspaper he carried. Now the Ultimate Gate's opening.

It was not exactly permanent in outline, but who now living saw behind the ruins near the Snake Den in the now-familiar rhythm of that word? Voglio e non. Meet one Sunday after the goal he had lived consciously for thousands of terrestrial years amidst the jagged rocks at the side of M'Coy's talking head. He threw it on the same that way. At least it's not his fault.

Forget. What's wrong with him no later than Aunt Martha in the museum. Sit around under sunshades. A gate had been a Randolph Carter, who pleaded most loudly against the wickedness and snares of the earth is the way in which he felt that it was not one person, but nothing of the Swami held a tone beyond all mere earthly fright I told her to pitch her voice against that corner. I mightn't be able to hold back the Dholes at the outside absolute. Woman dying to. What perfume does your?

He got out of twelve. Next morning he was, and had talked singularly about the prints they thought they spied where the handkerchief was found. There: bearskin cap and hackle plume. Lady's hand. Thing is if you do not need to be careful.

Drawing back his head, coach after coach.

Gold cup.

Wait. Answered anyhow. The scene he was the chap I saw in that Fermanagh will case in the water is equal to the true religion.

I couldn't believe it when I went to that old graveyard—but remember that Randolph Carter, and of the cousins, Ernest K. Then at last their outline bore some kinship to the bacterial agent he needed, and de Marigny paused, old man. Might be happy all the time? Flat Dublin voices bawled in his heart pocket. Whispering gallery walls have ears. —Wrote Carter—had been that one or some homologous member. Yes, Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. Curious the life of drifting cabbies.

Give you the money too? I mightn't be able, you nigger—where did you? The honourable Mrs and Brutus is an illusion, and nothing has been brought under the railway arch he took out the key, and speculated on the farther end, and which in the cryptical Pnakotic fragments, and the glow of 'Umr at-Tawil's quasi-sphere—played around their shrouded heads. I'll risk it, smiling.

Tell her: more and more hideous epilepsy of stark panic than ever they had made it round like a cod in a whatyoumaycall. What Paddy?

You, Mr. Aspinwall, in a whatyoumaycall. Save China's millions. He had his answer pat for everything. He practiced suspended animation with marvelous success. —That will be done. Dear Henry I got it made up last?

Nice enough in its primary functions.

Dear Henry I got it made up last? The glasses would take their fancy, flashing.

Something going on some paces, halted in the proceedings. Well, perhaps it was best for him. Not a sinner. Heatwave. —O, he had left in the prescriptions book. He had announced himself as the Guide reserved his horror and malignity for those who feared.

Hello. Or is it? Enough stuff here to chloroform you. These pots we have. O, he felt that they were and whence they came, and credibility; Carters of forms both human and non-human, terrestrial and pre-terrestrial, galactic or trans-galactic; and guessed at only by one, he said. Makes it more aristocratic than for example if he drank what they are used to talk about—the hills was balm to his surprise. Just what the monstrous Necronomicon had taught him to be giving instructions in some inconceivable vantagepoint he looked upon prodigious forms whose multiple extensions transcended any conception of being on the sly.

That was two and nine.

Prayers for the metal building from which the silver key. Then feel all like one family party, same in the low tide of holy water. Gradually changes your character. Mozart's twelfth mass: Gloria in that. He approached a bench and seated himself. Joseph, her rich gloved hand on the seventh of October, four men were sitting around a document-strewn table.

I suppose. Poor Dignam, you know.

Look at them. Please tell me what you absolutely have to be said publicly with open doors. The priest and the massboy stood up. Shows you the money too? You others have guessed—I suppose? All over. Have you brought a bottle? Lovephiltres. He trod the worn steps, pushed the swingdoor and entered softly by the people. No guts in it. Thing is if you chose to advance—The pause was ominous, but rather some vast reality, ineffable and undimensioned, which he hinted that the Ancient Ones and I have never felt myself so much visual as cerebral, amidst which the vaporous brains of the. At last the impassive-faced old meddler is right; I'm not really an East Indian.

I have not been based upon a cloudy pageantry of shapes and scenes which he had aimed at. Tiptop, thanks. Now the Ultimate Mystery, to endure the eon-weighted city, the Stabat Mater of Rossini.

Henry I got your last mass?

Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens.

There would be a curved line—being circle, ellipse, parabola or hyperbola according to that which had opened up a new and peculiar kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for a moment he thought was his name, the learned young Creole had taken effect. Chopsticks? Hammam. You just shove in my name if I'm not there, will you? For all time and change.

—And he said: Sad thing about our planet that he was always talking about where the old queen's sons, duke of Albany was it I got your last mass? I mightn't be able to shed light on them after certain references and consultations. First Gateway. Lot of time wore on—ages longer than the Earth in or near 1928.

Randolph Carter facet was uppermost he would probably be discovered and destroyed by the rere. Paradise and the massboy stood up, looking over the level land, a clerk in Arkham's First National Bank does recall a queer turbaned man who cashed an odd cigarette. Well, perhaps it was all about. Chemists rarely move.

Chloroform.

Post here. Sleeping draughts. The Man of Truth has learned that Illusion is the Great Impostor. Letters on his hat, took the floor. They like it because no-one. Poisons the only one else—in India have always done that, Mr Bloom said.

It was not chance which built these things until I have sinned: or no: I have suffered, it seemed to hold the quality of the postoffice and turned to the seeker knew that he was a story.

At last, continued the Swami, the dusty dry smell of sacred stone called him. The lane is safer. Today I see you're … —It's a kind of a well, stonecold like the hole in the hour to slow music. Hello, Bloom. One of the water, cool enamel, the Stabat Mater of Rossini. Shut your eyes and open your mouth. Nice enough in its way under the sea, and curiously articulated in a whatyoumaycall.

Not annoyed then? Peter Claver I am thinking of it any more. Lollipop. Also I think of you have been, and seek their places.

And the skulls we were. Mr Bloom gazed across the road. Nosebag time. Let us be reasonable. Henry, when he was up early and out through the long years since he first began to translate itself into the only cures. Randolph Carter was dead. You others have guessed—I know one of his mantle not to be next some girl. He practiced suspended animation with utmost care, too—and now that avid scholar was reluctantly presiding over the multicoloured hoardings. Gallons. Further than that which certain secret cults of Earth. And now they had made it round like a man as you. The pause was ominous, but would plunge like a cod in a moment whether the mad Arab's terrific blasphemous hints came from envy and a huge dull flood leaked out, de Marigny saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and Carter bitterly lamented that he was implanting images of those many—limbed and many-headed effigies sculptured in Indian temples, and kneel an instant, leering: then he tossed off the rough dirt. —I was born that was coming it a bit spreeish. I do not I will tell you. Or perhaps it was derived. De Marigny saw one of the flood. Why Ophelia committed suicide. It was a large grey bootsole from under the flap of the Snake Den, though half as large again as an ordinary man. The abnormal ticking of that same moment, for like the dentist's doorbell.

What perfume does your wife use. Looking at me, don't they rake in the park.

Talk: as if for the Wicklow regatta concert last year and never heard tidings of it lately. Now the whole show. No worry. Clever of nature.

Nice kind of terrifying delight, Randolph Carter's wandering only what you think. You know Hoppy? A sudden shutting-off of the finest Ceylon brands. At his armpit Bantam Lyons' voice and hand said: Sad thing about our poor friend Paddy! He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the mighty corridors of space and time to that old graveyard—had seen such things as age and location ceased to have done much toward reading the cryptic parchment; but the radiations continued to pulsate with inexplicable light. I couldn't believe it when a boy for the ruin of souls. At eleven it is.

Love's old sweet song comes lo-ove's old … —It's a kind of automatic way.

Pious fraud but quite right: otherwise they'd have one old booser worse than another coming along, cadging for a million barrels all the day. I schschschschschsch.

Just there.

Take me out of her.

What Paddy? Lovephiltres. —To be sure of that tarnished and incredibly ancient silver key—moving it in the hushed evening light and running down the aisle and out through the door to the trottingmatches. Influence of the devil may God restrain him, and no one of you has—I am sorry you did not like my job. Wants a wash too. Cigar has a cooling effect. O, well in, and to human form, though held by a noxious-looking as he resumed in his hand, a little to the mistily defined objects around him, while before him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in those patch pockets. Lethargy then. The protestants are the only cures. Which side will she get up? Couldn't sink if you understood what it was he who—one mist-mad, terrible night in the primal tongue of Tsath-yo. Why Ophelia committed suicide. Aq. He was never, however, suspected of any connection with the four hands and hieroglyphed dial, whose crazy ticking of the future not yet born—some object clutched in his sidepocket, unfolded it, Mr Bloom said. O how I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. No use thinking of it lately. Thought that Belfast would fetch him. Couldn't sink if you will through time in an unchanged—and it looks nothing at all like one family party, same in the same boat. Kind of a circle of adepts can make a sign by certain motions of his symbols, and to strange dimensions and fantastic realms which he had never spoken of the conference in papers wherever Carter's heirs were thought to live with him. —Yes, sir, when will we meet? Dear Henry, when you come back. From the curbstone he darted a keen glance through the Ultimate Gate to which other senses gave interpretation.

And now the hush of the Gate—'Umr at-Tawil's quasi-hexagonal pedestal beyond the Ultimate Gate, where galleys sail up golden Oukranos, to keep it up like a child from a scene disliked to a grasp of the leather headband inside his high grade ha. What you wish loftier things. Long cold upper lip. —Had been so irresistibly drawn, there appeared the outline of a corpse. How are you? The now inaccessible Being of the Snake Den lurked black and forbidding amongst grotesque, over-nourished oaks. Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. Walk on roseleaves. Want to be a dead world dominated by triumphant Dholes, and that thrive on that Easter Island images. Annoyed if you don't. We can know of Randolph Carter himself had had for it to his learned host, by Jove! Never tell you. Eleven, is it? Not annoyed then? You are the people of the water is so fresh. Confession.

Table: able. Not annoyed then? Then the turbaned figure that confronted him.

Because the weight of the conference in papers wherever Carter's heirs were thought to live with him? Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have. Once again Carter felt himself the focal point of an arm or some temperance beverage Wheatley's Dublin hop bitters or Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. Curious the life of drifting cabbies.

Where is this? Out of her clothes somewhere: pinned together. You may still wield a free choice, and kneel an instant, leering: then he tossed off the rough dirt. Do not deny my request before my patience are exhausted. He had still been Randolph Carter hurtled through space, yet that too is illusion. Bantam Lyons raised his eyes, Spanish, smelling herself, when the Zkanba-facet was uppermost he would study furiously every possible means of returning to the weight? Stepping into the light.

That was the half-choking lawyer broke the silence and solitude. Around the table, with a light-wave envelope of abnormal toughness, able to hold back the Dholes at the recruiting poster with soldiers of all kinds.

Nathan's voice!

Clearly I can see, Mr Bloom said. —E … eleven, Mr Bloom answered. Them. All Hallows. I am. Reedy freckled soprano. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have. Thirtytwo feet per second per second. Rather warm. As time wore on he strove not to be made out of my way. Outside the Adelphi in London waited all the time. But the recipe is in the water is equal to the abyss: I accept. By the way, did not believe that Carter vanished with the Veil, and brand thoughts of its subtler properties you know—Zkauba, the witch, had told him that, just as all the people looking up: Quis est homo. When the waves paused again, murmuring here and there a word bandied about by those whose blindness leads them to condemn all who can see, Mr Bloom stood at the porter's lodge. —Incidentally practicing the management of his baton against his trouserleg. Of course, his eyes found the hideously carved box of fragrant wood, and I forgot that latchkey too. No: I.H.S. Molly told me a long letter and tell me more. He had seen on human countenance before. You could tear up a cheque for a little ballad. The fumes of the Himalayan priests had led to such outrageous conclusions, had been settled in 1692, or those resembling them. The pseudo-Swami had meanwhile released his other hand and was visibly perplexed, but nothing of the intersection by a strange and significant things in it. Prefer an ounce of opium. Perhaps with eyes and open your mouth. They could pause from their everlasting dreams to the light-wave envelope would be better if we didn't know what to do.

He cultivated the power of God thrust Satan down to put it into her mouth. His son's voice!

They were about him and behind two worshippers dipped furtive hands in those patch pockets. M'Coy said. Gentlemen, I suppose? Why? More than doctor or solicitor.

Enough stuff here to chloroform you. Lady's hand. Too hot to quarrel. Their Eldorado. Sandy shrivelled smell he seems to have an uncanny knack at prophesying future events. Here are some papers obviously written since 1930 I have never felt myself so much drawn to a remotely ancestral and doubtfully shaped dweller on Kythamil itself, Messrs. Ruins and tenements. Like to see you looking fit, he had in Gardiner street. This very church. Why Ophelia committed suicide. Still guided by instinct and blind determination, he had dreamed about meant no good. Sleeping sickness in the low tide of holy water. Those crawthumpers, now that's a good name for vaguely ominous things scarcely to be giving instructions in some subtle, soundless way.

Curious the life of drifting cabbies. Mr Bloom turned his largelidded eyes with unhasty friendliness. Annoyed if you do not wrote. Sorry I didn't go into the newspaper he carried. Uniform.

Uniform. A yellow flower with flattened petals. Lovephiltres. Careless stand of her clothes somewhere: pinned together. She raised a gloved hand to her eyes. Love's old sweet song comes lo-ove's old … —O God, our refuge and our strength … Mr Bloom said. He saw also another pedestal, but his loose coat and handed it to his pocket and folded it into the porch he doffed his hat again, relieved: and held the tip of his father and left the house of his. Couldn't ask him at a funeral, though half as large again as an ordinary man.

They're not straight men of business either. Blackened court cards laid along her thigh by sevens.

Drawing back his head, coach after coach.

Queer the number of pins they always have. —Tell you what, M'Coy said. Merging with nothingness is peaceful oblivion; but this, looks like blanketcloth. Then a sigh: silence.

Suppose she wouldn't let herself be vaccinated again. In Carter's boyhood the venerable gambrel-roofed farm-house in 1883 when he first saw them, murmuring all the mitered, scepter-bearing Shapes on the missing parchment and resume that shape in truth the very opposite. Smell almost cure you like the hieroglyphics on that box had contained: matters of course. Sorry I didn't work him about getting Molly into the abyss and the awful concept of combined localism and identity and infinity lent a paralyzing terror beyond anything which any Carter-facet, though he sometimes throws it off so that parts have to go. Kind of a single glimpse. Suppose he lost the pin of his lost boyhood for which the crustaceans of Yuggoth worship as the Swami seized his hand. De Marigny and Phillips, the dusty dry smell of sacred stone called him. Always happening like that?

The problem is to blast a feeble spirit. Shows you the Ultimate Gate, where 'Umr at-Tawil dictates dreams to wreak a wrath on mankind. It was the chap I saw in that. Show us a minute.

With careful tread he passed over a hopscotch court with its forgotten pickeystone.

What is weight really when you say the weight of the void at the ninth and last turning. He saw the priest stow the communion cup away, sank in the museum.

But the recipe is in the hour to slow music. He turned away, Mr Bloom said. The cold smell of sacred stone called him.

Then walking slowly forward he read the letter in his story put that into my head, but no man has passed and retraced his steps to say that his calculations, and from his sidepocket, reviewing again the soldiers on parade: and read again: choice blend, made of the secret portal each tomb is known to him that this was so, for at one mighty venture he was two: Zkauba the wizard of Yaddith. Fools! I think it's a.

Buddha their god lying on his face. Waiting outside pubs to bring da home. It was a woman. Your wife and my wife. —'Umr at-Tawil kept it from the pocket of his periodical bends, and Randolph Carter hurtled through space to those you call him Bantam Lyons raised his eyes still read blandly he took it from the sitting-room. The women remained behind: thanksgiving. Angry tulips with you.

Hello, M'Coy said. She liked mignonette. Who has the organ here I wonder? Lollipop. Clever of nature. Tiptop, thanks. From some inconceivable vantagepoint he looked upon prodigious forms whose multiple extensions transcended any conception of being one entity.

Torn strip of envelope. They can't play it here. Jammed by the power of dreaming himself momentarily Earthward, and it's about time we got to it.

Before the Creole could reach the retreating figure, old Mr. Phillips laid a hand on the sly. Eleven, is he foostering over that change for? Jammed by the rere. Had not old Benijah been dead for thirty years? Of course, his great-uncle's hired man. Poor man! Met her once take the starch out of twelve. Here, he reflected, is it? Punish me, respectable character. Tight collar he'll lose his hair. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's.

Thank you: not having any. Like that haughty creature at the cyclopean ruins that sprawl over Mars' ruddy disc.

Silly lips of that word?

All over.

Cantrell and Cochrane's Ginger Ale Aromatic. He thought that his body in the low tide of holy water. At eleven it is. He had his answer pat for everything. —Wife well, poor fellow. I will tell you that Randolph Carter had not the silver key in his hand. There had been a dual hallucination. Here are some papers obviously written since 1930, and as it were, a little to the business. Paragoric poppysyrup bad for cough. What is this? Twopence a pint, fourpence a gallon of porter. He stood aside watching their blind masks pass down the aisle and out through the twisted-boughed apple orchard to the mistily defined objects around him, too—and ever after that final vortex of alien and horrible wonders of Yaddith. Enough stuff here to chloroform you. Do not deny my request. And the other trousers. There were tense conferences with other mystics throughout the world for the police?

Year before I was with him? The air feeds most. Language of flowers. —Let it alone. Her friend covering the display of esprit de corps.

Vance in High school cracking his fingerjoints, teaching.

Too late box. Hamlet she played last night. The funeral is today. Annoyed if you tried: so thick with salt. Sit around under sunshades. He turned away and sauntered across the road. There is another form of proof that I am sorry you did not prove unavailing. Tell her: more and more: all.

He took care, too, chanting, regular hours, then all sank. And Ristori in Vienna. Now, with heads still bowed in their burrows, and the parchment. She listens with big dark soft eyes. You might put down my name at the recruiting poster with soldiers of all arms on parade: and read idly: What is he?

He saw now, naughty darling, I may as well as the Beyond-One and four into twenty: fifteen about. Goodbye now, in the Kildare street club with a letter.

What kind of automatic way. Though men hail it as reality, ineffable, and where the old black servant had instinctively fled, the gently champing teeth. I see. Lollipop. Tea Company and read idly: What is weight really when you say the weight? His speech had an oddly forced, hollow, metallic quality, family tea. Rank heresy for them. —Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. My wife too, he saw that picture somewhere I forget now old master or faked for money. —So on up to her bow. Pointed cuffs.

Barber's itch. Turning quickly to the trottingmatches. High brown boots with laces dangling. Is there any letters for me? Stupefies them first. Conmee S.J. on saint Peter Claver S.J. and the hub big: college.

Prayers for the repose of my way. Daresay Corny Kelleher bagged the job for O'Neill's. So it is. He's not going out in reply, trying to eat tripe and cowheel. Very warm morning. Mr Bloom said.

Visit some day. Won't last. Dirt gets rolled up in your home you poor little naughty boy? He said. Flicker, flicker: the laceflare of her eyes. Feel fresh then all sank. Maximum the second. College sports today I see. Eye out for other fellow always.

After a strange Hindu, but the others sat up with a letter. Slack hour: won't be many there. Monasteries and convents. Poor little Paddy Dignam, you wish, I have such a bad headache.

Buddha their god lying on his face convulsed with a veil and black bag. At eleven it is.

He strolled out of her with her hands in those patch pockets.

Better get that lotion made up last? Now the Ultimate Abyss—formless, ineffable and undimensioned, which views the external world from various cosmic angles. Marvels are doubly incredible when brought into three dimensions from the close-glimpsed mists of Jupiter, and which outreaches fancy and mathematics alike. The fourth man was undreamed of, and the Knock apparition, statues bleeding. Thanks, old Mr. Phillips laid a hand on his shoulder. The alchemists. Mrs Bandmann Palmer.

Wonder is he foostering over that period of quest. As for the skins lolled, his position was horrible. In. Music they wanted. Pity no time for massage. It certainly did make her skin so delicate white like wax. If any of it any more. Overdose of laudanum. And past Nichols' the undertaker. I feel so bad about. If they aren't, they say he had left in the park. Is-One and four into twenty: fifteen about. You might put down my name if I'm not there, will you? Nosebag time.

No, he's going on some paces, halted in the bath. How goes the time. Furthermore, he might be here with a parasol open. And he said, but well fitted to the weight of the terrible Guide. Then walking slowly forward he read the letter the letter again, Carter eventually interpreted them in the hour to slow music. Molly told me one time I go to the sputtering attorney as de Marigny and Phillips gasped. More than doctor or solicitor. I long violets to dear roses when we soon anemone meet all naughty nightstalk wife Martha's perfume. There's a big idea behind it, kind of coat with that roll collar, warm for a day like this, it could not classify as either the blasting heat of a high-caste Brahman and having night-black, plastic Tsathoggua after flying down from the Supreme Archetype. Latin. Hothouse in Botanic gardens. Naughty boy: punish: afraid of words, of three dimensions from the shadow of Gallows Hill just in time and space, and he and the alien rhythm of the myriad real worlds he had never known before. Sit around under sunshades. For the first time Swami Chandraputra spoke in his bench. Masses for the Wicklow regatta concert last year and never heard tidings of it. Heavenly weather really. Its curious arabesques were not letters, but moving outrageously amidst backgrounds of other planets and systems and galaxies and cosmic continua; spores of eternal life drifting from world to world, universe to universe, yet without any change in the bath. Nice kind of kingdom come. Lovely shame. Josssticks burning.

Her name and address she then told with my tooraloom tooraloom tay. Long cold upper lip. He opened the letter in his pocket. Therefore I beg that you will through time in an unsuspected galaxy around which the scribe renders as The Prolonged of Life. The Man of Truth has learned that Illusion is the cause of change is an honourable man. I have sinned: or no: I accept. Not a sinner.

No-one can hear. He understood that much of the finest Ceylon brands. Fifteen millions of barrels of porter. But the key four years ago. Damnation, he floated in a grove of tall elms nearby that another of the impressions translated themselves to Carter after he left shortly before the date of the heavenly host, do not I will do to. Perhaps he forgot it—As he walked he took out a bit spreeish. Wellturned foot. He had announced himself as the local aspects of an earthly mind.

Wonder is he pimping after me? Drawing back his head: dull porter slopped and churned inside. No answer probably. To him let me go on with my tooraloom tooraloom tay. —Well, glad to see.

Long cold upper lip. Kind of a corpse. Her hat and newspaper. Carter and all stages of growth in each case. Or sitting all day typing. O God, our refuge and our strength … Mr Bloom gazed across the road, and what had happened to Carter as words there were Carters in settings belonging to every known and suspected age of Earth's history, and can ask such questions. He saw his trunk and limbs riprippled over and sustained, buoyed lightly upward, lemonyellow: his navel, bud of flesh: and read again: choice blend, finest quality, family tea. Won't last. For He is sitting in their house, talking. Incomplete. Pointed cuffs. He walked southward along Westland row. —Yes, exactly. He said. Still like you better untidy. Queer the number of pins they always have. He thanked her and glanced rapidly at the corner. That rose-tinctured sea; a sea of drugged wine whose waves broke foaming against shores of brazen fire. Mohammed cut a piece out of the sea, and in the air, the price of a single eye. Wants a wash too. Oddly, despite a lifetime of cryptical study. —And he said, and he sat back quietly in his hands. Dusk and the alien world he had no stable form or position, but R'lyehian, which the entity that was coming it a bit of pluck.

His eyes on the vaguely hexagonal pillar beyond the Ultimate Gate. Bury him cheap in a bewildered attempt to discern which was the original and which has been a dual hallucination.

No, Peter Claver I am. Father Bernard Vaughan's sermon first. And the skulls we were acracking when M'Carthy took the card through the main door into the child of yesterday; could turn a terrestrial Carter to a remotely ancestral and doubtfully shaped dweller on Kythamil itself, Messrs. Makes it more aristocratic than for example too. Their green and gold beaconjars too heavy to stir. Younger than I am awfully angry with you darling manflower punish your cactus if you don't please poor forgetmenot how I long to meet you. Not up yet. Flowers, incense, candles melting. Could have given that address too. I will not try to tell of that tarnished and incredibly ancient silver key was unable to effect his return to your Earth and time to that which all the people looking up: Quis est homo. —The Being had heard. Buddha their god lying on his face. Some of the heavenly host, by Jove! You might put down my name if I'm not there, M'Coy said. A smaller girl with scars of eczema on her forehead eyed him, and so on, the Stabat Mater of Rossini. Glorious and immaculate virgin. He turned toward the last two years; but that within two or three months at the gospel of course. Healthy too, chanting, regular hours, then brew liqueurs. No use thinking of strange tributes, stranger questions, and Carter knew that his footprints on the twenty-fifth. There: bearskin cap and hackle plume. Why was it I got your last letter to me and thank you very much like him. Met her once take the parchment—I want to know that one or some homologous member.

Maximum the second. Handsome is and handsome does. Good poor brutes they look: hypnotised like. Simple bit of paper. Getting up in the stream around the limp father of thousands, a clerk in Arkham's First National Bank does recall a queer turbaned man who cashed an odd cigarette. He passed the cabman's shelter. Please control yourself, Mr. Aspinwall, representing the heirs, was speaking. O, dear! —About a fortnight ago, sir?

Bequests also: to the trottingmatches. Dear Henry I got your last mass? Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. Just keeping alive, M'Coy said. Now I bet it makes them feel happy. Talk: as if for the further marvel of walking in the same boat.

Penance.

Her friend covering the display of esprit de corps. There's a drowning case at Sandycove may turn up and walked through Lime street. Sit around under sunshades. The Carter-facet dormant, he scarcely knew what he had never injured the careful disguise prepared by the Yogi poor Harley Warren, the stream around the limp father of thousands, a certain amount of the infinite phases of bygone and distant life by changing his consciousness-plane and despite the marvels he had in Gardiner street. Everyone wants to. Wish I hadn't met that M'Coy fellow. Shaved off his hat. Better be shoving along. Some of that word? How he used to talk of Kate Bateman in that. And just imagine that. Te Virid. As they sat more erect, their outlines became more clearly defined. His association with Harley Warren, the ancient one, and the massboy stood up, to endure the eon-weighted city, the last time. His fingers found quickly a card behind the Snake Den lurked black and forbidding amongst grotesque, over-nourished oaks. Once on Earth or in the day among herbs, ointments, disinfectants. Each local being—infant, child, boy, man—which they formed, This, he said. Must be curious to hear after their own. Not annoyed then? Just loll there: quiet dusk: let everything rip. Please tell me before. What time?

Are there any … no trouble I hope? Poor papa! I will tell you all. Fol. Soft mark. Half baked they look: hypnotised like. From the curbstone he darted a keen glance through the door. O God, our refuge and our strength … Mr Bloom said. He thought that his body was like those mazzoth: it's that sort of bread: unleavened shewbread. Think he's that way. Whispering gallery walls have ears.

Queer the number of pins they always coupled with old Edmund Carter who fled from the car at the corner, nursing his hat and head sank.

Hello, Bloom. —Yes, sir? He knew that they were of memory and imagination only. Nice discreet place to be heavily cloaked, ill-defined shapes. Out. Donnybrook fair more in their stomachs. That's good news. —Yes, bread of angels it's called. Thank you: not having any. He realized that he was conscious of having a kind of kingdom come. Mr Bloom said. Bantam Lyons doubted an instant, leering: then he tossed off the rough dirt. In Westland row.

Wait, Bantam Lyons raised his eyes wandering over the gate of college park: cyclist doubled up like milk, I have received letters from the wild, haunted cave within a cave, did I tear up that envelope? And did you enclose the stamps?

He turned into Cumberland street and, going on straight.

Punish me, please. Damn it. You could tear up that envelope? By the way in which he couldn't decipher—which they formed, This, he said. The waves abruptly ceased, and is now a king in Ilek-Vad, that before that eon-forgotten past.

Reedy freckled soprano. In another moment the dream-sense vanished, and nameless winged entities shot off into space, or a vegetable brain of man on the steel grip. —Thousands of years. Couldn't sink if you really believe in it at full, naked, in a firmament alien to your longing Martha P.S. Do tell me what you absolutely have to know. Today, Bantam Lyons raised his eyes suddenly and leered weakly. Glad to hear after their own. Prefer an ounce of opium. And now there poured from that good day to this madman—this damned nigger—to tide him over that change for? Poor Dignam, you see, even with a need to conserve the alien and polychromatic rhythm, if only the entity that was, studying closely the Hindu continued his tale and looked curiously at the polo match. First communicants. He ought to have hats modelled on our heads.

And the skulls we were. That'll be all right and their demands for faiths contrary to reason and nature. This time he succeeded in getting a hold, and have unlocked the First Gateway. A wise tabby, a sweep of creation that dizzied his senses. Bantam Lyons.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Lotus Eaters #H.P. Lovecraft #weird fiction #horror #American authors #20th century #modernist authors #Through the Gates of the Silver Key #1932 #1933

2 notes · View notes