dvstpan

[dvstpan]

sorry // halsey

[dvstpan]

milesheppard‌:

He always looks so stunned whenever he’s in Dusty’s presence, like he still finds it incredulous that they’re breathing the same air when he should be used to it by now. And he is, for the most part— he’s accepted that they’re going to be around each other more often, whether it’s just running into each other at the street or if it’s on scheduled visits such as this. But it always takes him by surprise, the way he can hear Dusty speak and can actually see him in front of him whereas he’d only ever been a figment of his imagined memories.

He quickly wipes the dazed expression on his face when it’s his turn to speak and says, “I didn’t want to scare the neighbors or… I don’t know. I’ll knock louder next time.” The next time is more hopeful than he lets on, and he’s trying not to expect so much these days. The guy doesn’t owe him anything, least of all his time. To be granted a next time would be a privilege he’s not sure he’s earned yet. He’ll see how tonight goes, anyway. So he takes a small step forward, a bit reluctant at first, but the invitation is there, and he uses that to will himself inside until he’s past the door, still clutching the container of food against his chest.

This would be the first time he’s ever stepped foot in Dusty’s apartment with Dusty actually in it, as the last time he’d been here, he’d only been entertained by his roommate, who must be out for the night as he doesn’t see him around. He moves his head towards the voice—oh yes, right, he’s talking to me—then down at what he’s holding. “It’s roast beef. Aunt Helena made it,” he says, like that’s any explanation. “She won’t mind. I don’t think. Well, I hope not.” He’s stiff, almost rod-like in the way he stands, and tries to keep in one place as much as possible. This isn’t his home. “I’m fine. Just… working and stuff. Trying to look for other things to do,” he admits. His eyes dart towards the dining table where some notebooks are cracked open. “You’re studying?” 

Miles looked similar to a deer caught in headlights right about now and Dustin was never quite sure what he was supposed to do in that moment. It was as if he wasn’t accustomed to Dustin wanting him around. Want may be a strong word at this point in time, as it wasn’t a strong desire by any means, it just felt necessary to get past the tension that had been created. He was a forgiving person and willing to look past what had happened, it would just take time for him to fully do so. All wounds needed time to heal and he hated thinking that he might not have ever been in the position he was in if none of it had happened. Maybe he would still be skating on by without medications. Peering to the doors next to his apartment, he shrugged his shoulders, replying, “If they’re bothered by you knocking, then they’re angered by how much I make noise in the middle of the night trying to work on my stuff. I’m surprised I haven’t gotten a complaint. It’s not that late, they’re not going to be bothered.” Next time was a possibility, just not one that he directly addressed. They would have to see how the night went. Allowing him inside, he shut the door behind him and locked it again, an extra precaution he had been taking since all that had occurred over the course of the summer. Obviously, he wasn’t keen on taking any chances. Moving back to the pot on the stove and stirring around the macaroni and cheese he had been making, he looked over his shoulder at Miles, snapping his fingers to get his attention and pointing off to the corner. “Take off your shoes, find a place to sit, make yourself at home. Don’t be a stranger. Dinner will be up in a few minutes.” Leaning against the counter, he eyed the container in his hand. When he was making dinner for himself, he would rather not throw leftovers into the mix. It killed the mood, in his opinion. “Uh... I don’t want any, but if you want to eat it, be my guest. I have a perfectly good microwave,” he replied gently, gesturing toward it and fidgeting with the timer in his other hand. Miles must be uncomfortable standing like that, but what could he do? Nodding slowly at his answer, his grey eyes flitted to the notebooks on the table, pausing to think about why he had left them out. “Uh... No, actually, well- yes and no. I’m always studying. This is actually for my senior project. It’s kind of a mess right now. You can look through them if you want, I’ll just move them out of the way...” Moving forward, he started to collect them and moved them to the breakfast bar to clear them off the dining table.

[dvstpan]

“But that’s just the trouble with me.”

[dvstpan]

He was expecting Miles at around dinner time and he had been wandering around the apartment, attempting to juggle the laundry, a spot of homework, and getting dinner on the stove so it would be ready when Miles showed up. Although he didn’t typically take to cooking during the school year, he had promised he would make him dinner and he wasn’t going to bail on his word. Taking his leave from the pot on the stove for a few minutes to go to the bathroom and wash his hands, he shut the bathroom door behind him. A sound caught his ears, wondering for a moment if he was just hearing things, the I’m here that was clearly Miles’ voice enough to tell him that he wasn’t having another one of his moments. Strolling over to the door and opening it, he smiled when he did see Miles, relieved that it wasn’t in his head, giving him a wave. “Hey, you knock really soft. I didn’t even hear it. This apartment is pretty big, you should knock a little louder,” he suggested, stepping back to let him in, glancing at the container he was holding, pushing his glasses up, “Uh... You didn’t need to bring anything extra, you know. I have dinner cooking on the stove just fine. I think it’ll be ready soon. Come on in, make yourself at home. I’ve gotta put Steve back in his cage and then I think the food should be ready to be served up... How are you?”

He’s nervous; the kind of nervous he only gets when he walks in the sketchier parts of town at night or when he’s in the presence of intimidating strangers. Neither of which should have anything to do with Dusty since he’s well-familiar with his neighborhood, and he’s probably the last person he should feel threatened by. Still, he fidgets from where he’s standing on the other side of the door, a plastic container of home-cooked roast beef that his aunt was saving for tonight, but he brings it over, anyway, and he’ll just have to answer to her when he gets home.

It takes him a while to knock, but he does, eventually, and contemplates on just running back down the stairs before Dusty opens the door so neither of them have to suffer what would surely be an awkward night filled with off-beat silences. But before he gets to move his feet, he hears a click! and the light coming from the crack between Dusty’s door and the frame. “Hello?” he says, more as a question than a proper greeting. “I’m here.”

@dvstpan

[dvstpan]

lcsbicas‌:

      late dinner. that’d be a very late dinner by the sounds of it, but eating early is a pretty american thing in general, so she’s hardly one to judge, especially as she’s assuming chance was at the masquerade ball, meaning he was busy. that’s fair enough though, and she nods. she’ll just make her way home whenever his boyfriend lets him know he’s on the way. whether she’ll go in her pyjamas or force the dress back on is something she thinks she’s undecided on, but the chances of her getting herself back in that dress tonight are pretty damn slim. besides, there’d be no human soul at home to undo the zip for her, and her fish’s distinct lack of thumbs might be a bit of an issue. she can’t help but let out a laugh as he so poetically describes himself having his head up engineering’s ass, but there’s a fondness in her eyes; she’s glad he’s happy, and she’s glad he’s back doing what he loves. things are finally looking up. her laughter continues, harder, as dusty protests to her flicking him with her pyjamas, and it only subsides when she tries to peel the dress from her body. a grin slowly settles on her lips as he speaks of muppet in all his lazy glory; he truly is a rather remarkable being. “listen ! you gotta support him. he loves you and wants you to be aware of his dead weight on the end of the leash, clearly. you’re not lazy, are ya, buddy ?” she says, directing her attention to the dog in question who is, for the record, clearly very fucking lazy. “oh, trust me, hon, this thing’s comin’ right off,” she assures, already a few steps ahead of him. eight years of friendship, a whole lot of trust, being completely comfortable around him and out to him means that she truly doesn’t care at this point in their lives. “i bet ya say that to all the girls, though,” she adds teasingly, and the wonderful thing about being out to dusty ( or, one of many wonderful things ) is that she can say the things she usually keeps under lock and key, and stop biting her tongue when it comes to innocent jokes that wouldn’t mean a thing, but she still doesn’t want to give off the wrong impression. it’s not a problem with dusty. as he reaches for the zipper, hazel stands up a little straighter to make the zip as straight as possible, allowing it to glide open easier, and her eyebrows lift curiously ( despite the fact he can’t see it ) as he remembers what he was talking about earlier, and she perks up a little. electrical trees. damn, she’d forgotten all about that, but the reminder has her letting out an excited gasp. that’s right ! the project ! “yes ! oh my god, y’gotta let me know, okay ? christ, that feels like it was years ago, but yeah ! i dunno why they wouldn’t want ya,” she also doesn’t know, well, anything about engineering, but she can still be supportive. she lets out a relieved sigh as he undoes the zip and she can shimmy out of the dress, letting it fall to the floor. stepping out of it, she moves to grab the shirt from the pyjama set, catching dusty’s grin and his daft jazz hands that pull a chuckle from her, and pulling the shirt over her head. “thanks, dustbug. the second you’re stuck in a dress because ya can’t get the zipper down, i’ll be right there for ya, and that’s a promise,” she says as if she’s sincere, pulling the shorts up and tying the dumb little bow at the front for good measure. that’s better. moving to grab the dress, she folds it as best she can while doing it fairly quickly, before popping it atop her bag by the door. finally, from underneath the shirt, her hands lift to her back to unclasp her bra, and it comes off easily thanks to being strapless, and she tosses it onto the pile to join her dress. free at last. “thank god for that,” she mutters, before turning back to the room and smiling as she sinks to a squat on the floor, calling muppet over to finally greet her favourite resident of casa de dusted. “so, if ya get to work with these tree people – which sounds like a terrible horror movie now i think about it – when do ya start ?”

The fact that he can make her laugh at the drop of a pin and grin like he put the stars in the damn sky means more to him than he could ever express to her. The fact he can still do that after everything they had been through over the past couple of months means far too much to him, perhaps more than it should. Nonetheless, he wouldn’t have it any other way. Groaning and looking over at his dog when Hazel protested Muppet’s own laziness, he rolled his eyes and shook his head, the grin not leaving his face. Muppet was far too preoccupied with gnawing and slobbering all over that pinecone of his. “I’m going to post a video of it on Instagram so the whole world knows how fucking lazy my dog is. I’ll either go viral and end up on America’s Funniest Home Videos or become an Instagram model. Which one do we wanna bet will happen? My good looks aren’t winning me a place on Vogue but maybe my dog will.” Now he’s just being an ass. Snorting when she all but immediately agreed that the bra was coming right off, he smirked at her comment and batted her on the arm, complaining, “Hey now, I’ve been good! Then again, I think dad remembers my whole ping pong story I told that one time... You’re right, I do say it to all the girls,” he teased as he helped her to step out of the dress, moving away from her so he could go over to the bowl of popcorn sitting on the table and shake it a little, trying to move the good pieces back to the top. The butter melted in well when he popped it on the stove. Making himself comfortable on the couch while she worked on changing her clothes and folding them off to the side, he looked up at her when she inquired about the project, his eyes lighting up, clasping his his hands together. His passion was clear whenever he talked about anything he loved through every aspect, from his facial expressions to his eyes to his hand gestures as he spoke, replying smoothly, “I will. I hope they’ll ask me to join, I worked really hard on my application. I would just be... doing something with that, you know? I would actually be making a difference for the world that we live in, or building our future. Something like that. Plus, the team is supposed to be comprised of people from all over the world- big people, some really amazing engineers. I could get some connections, I could work on other projects in the future. I might even get paid for this with it being with a large research corporation, I don’t know yet. I think it depends.” At the end of the day, he is still a college student and that could be enough to warrant that he has to do it without pay. Patting the empty space on the couch when she was finished putting the clothes aside, he couldn’t help smiling when Muppet got up and lazily trotted over to greet her. “Uh... I have to start working on an actual project in October, unless I get board permission to start later. I think they’ll still be working then, though. These trees can run fine in any weather, unlike how trees in winter kind of lose their leaves and their luster. Ice might be an issue if the winter is bad, I don’t see any other forthcoming problems otherwise. I’m excited to come back to work too, I have to admit. School was a difficult adjustment but I think I’m juggling it well now. Or, good enough.”

[dvstpan]

chancebernard‌:

While Chance loved his mother very much, she had always been a bit more pessimistic than he had ever been.  He listened to Dustin say that he had one tried to believe he had control over anything in his life, and he nodded, smiling again.  His mother had been adamant that her children understand that everything was out of their control.  She’d been good at playing the victim that way, nothing was her fault because she couldn’t control anything.  Which wasn’t to say that she was a bad person, because she wasn’t, not really.  Everyone had their faults.  Hers was a little bit of negativity…but the world hadn’t really done her any favors, anyway.  At the mention of contacting his family again, Chance shrugged, his smile faltering only for a second.  “Eventually I’m sure I will, just not yet.  Besides, by now they probably think I’ve given myself to the ocean or something,” he smiled, though it was a dark joke.  His family did know him to be a bit passionate, and often dramatic, despite him being light and airy and optimistic the majority of the time.  It was a big heartbreak that he’d gone through, they knew that.  It wasn’t something they would’ve taken lightly, even if he’d given them the chance.  “They’ll want me to talk about it, and I don’t want to talk about it with them.  Not yet.  There will be an air of ‘I told you so,’ even if they’re not trying to be like that.  They can’t really help it,” Chance shrugged as he finished, grinning about the movie topic.  “I don’t know that it was about lobsters, but the guy in it wanted to be a lobster, or something?  It was a bit odd.”  With a shake of his head, he shrugged off the topic, his arms draping over Dustin’s shoulders easily to balance himself on the floor while they kissed, humming quietly at the question the other male asked him.  He didn’t think about it too long before responding, “candy.  The fruity kind, not the chocolates kind.”  He responded, enjoying the kisses to his face, and frowning as Dustin stood and went to tend to the pizza.  After a moment, he rose to his knees and shuffled into the kitchen like that, not standing fully for no real reason except that he didn’t feel like standing.  The champagne bottles teased him, and he blushed before looking back at Dustin.  “I can’t open sparkling wines.  It’s not that loud of a pop, I know, but….”  He suddenly threw his hands in the air, eyes going wide, and he made a popping noise with his mouth.  Then he sighed, letting his hands drop, and rose to his feet finally so he could lean against the counter too.  “It’s like those toys, the boxes with the clowns in them?  And you twist the twisty-thing, and it sings a song, and then the clown pops out.  And you know it’s going to happen the whole time, but you get yourself worked up about it anyway?  That’s what opening sparkling wines is like for me.  I panic a bit,” he finished, smiling sheepishly.

Dustin mulled over the words that Chance was saying, trying to comprehend it to the best of his ability. He wasn’t in Chance’s shoes and didn’t know what had occurred, which left him to believe there was still abundant information to learn about Chance. He would open up when he was ready, as would Dustin. Although he had vaguely mentioned the horrors he had endured as a child, he hadn’t specifically told him what had happened- just that his father had hurt him. Still, he could understand Chance’s reluctance to speak with his family if it was something he felt they would be rather scolding of. “Take your time... And hey, if you want someone around when you tell them... I could be there, if you wanted me to. I don’t know if that would be considered imposing. You don’t even have to introduce me as your boyfriend,” he offered with a slight shrug, unsure if he was out to his family given he didn’t really talk to them much. Everyone should wait until they were ready to talk about the rough, rocky bits of their history. Otherwise, what good did it do anyone? Thinking on it further, he wondered if Chance would want him to meet his family at any point, the unpleasant thought crossing his mind that he might not want to introduce him to them. His mental illness was ugly, and while he was medicated, he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t still affect him some days- and it had, just earlier with Hazel and he’d heard a voice that wasn’t there. The thought process caused the smile to fall from his face, staring at the floor without realizing it, only lifting his head when their topic switched back to movies, crashing back into reality and snorting, making a face. “Wanted to be a lobster? I mean, I’ve seen Patrick Stewart dress up in a lobster suit, that doesn’t mean I asked for a movie about a guy thinking he was spiritually destined to be a lobster. Good lord. That won an award?” Turning to glance at the timer and then crossing the small space between them to settle beside Chance, looking over the bottles of wine again, he laughed at his request. “Candy. I think I have jellybeans somewhere, but no candy until after dinner!” he teased, leaning in to steal a quick kiss, pulling away before he could protest and picking up one of the bottles, listening to Chance speak and nodding his head along with his words to show he was listening. “Irrational fear of bottle-popping. Got it. Luckily for you, your knight in shining armor happens to have a corkscrew that should open it without too much of a pop.” Rummaging through the drawers, he located the item in question and started to whittle it into the cork of the bottle, twisting and slowly working it out. Pulling it free, he laughed when it bubbled over, always finding that part of it interesting. “Shit, my counter won’t thank me later,” he spoke as amusement laced his tone, pulling out two glasses and pouring them each one, setting the bottle aside and dabbing at the countertop with a paper towel. “Uh, I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet but... I’m going to be rescheduling the shows I was supposed to play with my band? I didn’t know if you’d be interested in coming. I’d really love to have my boyfriend there, after all.” Winking at him and lifting his glass, he held it out to him. “What should we toast to? Three months?”

[dvstpan]

hellomaisy‌:

maisy smiled up at the man. “oh gosh, i don’t know if i could go to do new york. i mean new york is so glamorous. i’d probably just visit. living there seems way too hectic.”, she said, giggling. “i’ll just keep little old crownsville for now. maybe go to the suburbs of atlanta one day.”, she said, smiling. her face lit up when she saw his other arm and circled him to take a closer look. “these are amazing! how long did it take to do?”, she asked, looking at him. “oh my gosh!”, she said, taking the time to examine his arm and neck tattoo. the girl smiled at him. “these are incredible. like actually so so cool!”, she said with a smile. when dusty mentioned that he worked with hazel, maisy’s face lit up even more. “i LOVE hazel!!! she’s one of my favourite people, isn’t she just seriously the best??? she’s your boss? i could see it, shes a strong ass woman, she’d be a great leader!”, she smiled. “thats really cool! are you gonna own it next?”, she asked curiously. “yeah! i want my tattoos to come from hazel. she’s so good at what she does, and i only accept the best.”, she grinned. “dusty???”, she asked, looking at him. “thats so cute! you’re like a little dustbunny! can i call you that??? i love bunnies so much!”, she giggled. “i’m maisy. huang. maisy huang, my name is not huang.”, she said, shaking her head and laughing. “my full name is huang mingxia but like…no one can pronounce that. so please call me maisy.”

“The city isn’t too bad once you get used to it. The people can be rude but that’s New York City for you. I actually prefer the bustle to the quiet, I just needed to get away. So here I am. Have you lived here all your life?” Dustin had always been a city person and ending up here was at random, the first chance he got to run away from the paranoia that had been plaguing him. To get away from his father. Atlanta was nice and it was busy for a smaller suburb, still nothing like New York City-- he missed the city sometimes. Maybe he should plan a trip back home for the Thanksgiving break. Looking down at his arm as she examined it, he mulled over her question. Too long to really add up. “They were, uh, done in parts, not all at once. Some of the big pieces like Einstein and the Terminator piece took several hours to do, I spaced the Terminator one over a couple days. My dad is great with portrait tattoos, so I had him do them. The Einstein was actually my first tattoo.” Why Einstein? Because he was cool, obviously. Lowering his arm when she was done looking them over, he laughed when she began to gush about Hazel. If the woman heard Maisy saying all of that about her right now, she might be modest about it- she would definitely deny the manager part. Are you going to own it next? “Uh...” To be honest, that had never even occurred to him, his brow furrowing and fixing his glasses. “That’s never really been discussed- I hope not. I’m not really a leader.” Of course, he was being modest. He would make a good leader, it just wasn’t for him. If the task were put up to him, he would be more than happy to take it on, but if it was a choice, he would rather decline it. The conversation shifting back to Hazel, he smiled again, nodding his head and replying, “She is really, really good. She’ll make sure your tattoos look amazing.” She knew she was good too. It was nice to have it acknowledged by other people, regardless. “I’m called Dustbunny by a few people, I don’t mind. Just as long as I’m not being called Dustin, I’m fine.” Shaking her hand and squinting one eye shut when she spoke her full name, he couldn’t help but laugh, nodding in agreement; it wasn’t something he could pronounce. “Maisy it is. That’s a cute name, it sounds like a flower.”

[dvstpan]

lcsbicas‌:

     “pfft, yeah, that was totally it,” hazel laughs, eyes rolling automatically. it really is quite something, the fact that dusty can perk her up within a matter of minutes, but she’s grateful for it nonetheless, and she truly can’t help but think how adorable he is. even while being her favourite brat. she doesn’t know Big Boss like dusty does, obviously, but having known him eight years, she’s fairly certain that the only part of dusty’s sentence that he’d protest to, is the fact that he also has three other kids that it’s his duty to call equally as gorgeous, and not that he actually had no part in the creation of dustin at all. despite the fact that dusty’s desire to see the photos has her waving her hand in protest, playfully rolling her eyes yet again, she will actually show him, it’s just that she gets distracted by the mention of dusty’s date, and she nods. “i can be outta your hair by then, no worries. y’know what time he’s headin’ over ?” she asks, more than happy to recharge with dusty for a while but make her way home if chance shoots dusty a text telling him he’s on his way, if he’s the type to do such a thing. it’s odd that serial-dater and fling-king dusty has been with chance for a while now, but not in a negative way. it’s just different, and hazel can’t help but be curious as to what’s different about chance in general. whatever it is, it’s working wonders; dusty seems happy, and maybe she can weasel some gossip out of him soon. “for some reason !” she agrees quickly when he, correctly, says that she loves him, putting her phone down for the time being so all hands are on deck to get this damn dress off. 

     “so i’ve been told,” she jokes ( or, well, half-jokes ) in return, not-so-sneakily edging towards dusty so she can whip his arm with said shorts now they’re in her hand and not on her face, acting as revenge for how amused he was by it despite the fact that it is incredibly amusing. a less amusing matter is this damn dress, and even though she’s distracted, her eyes cast downwards as she concentrates on trying to get the blasted thing off of her, she can’t help but think that star wars and stealing dusty’s popcorn sounds heavenly. “is he still on his damn pinecone kick ?!” she asks, almost impressed. if she looked up and realised he was probably about to offer to help but decided against it in favour of watching her suffer, she might’ve had to throw her pyjama shorts at him, but luckily she’s too busy trying to reach the zipper. when he does offer, hazel’s shoulders slump and she finally looks up at him, letting her arms falls to her sides with a sigh. “please ? it’s been drivin’ me nuts,” no shit. “said like a man who’s removed many a dress from a lady,” she adds with a smirk, turning her head just enough to shoot him a knowing look, before putting her head back where it belongs and pulling her hair over her shoulder to get it out the way. the curls have dropped, and they’re a little messier now than when she styled them in the intentionally messy way before she left, but she couldn’t care less even if she tried, and at this point in the evening, even the attempt to get her hair out the way of the zip is half-assed. “tell ya what, though, if you happen to catch my bra in that zipper i won’t give a shit. i’m gonna be real honest with ya, dust, the damn thing doesn’t fit. it’s cute but it doesn’t fit, and i only wore it because it’s the only one i have that works with this dress. pair that pokin’ me in the boob – because i’m also pretty sure the underwire’s comin’ out – and those goddamn shoes tryin’ to kill me, and i’m about ready to vow to wear nothin’ but yoga pants and sneakers for the rest of my life.”

Smirking as she played along with the banter, his grey eyes dancing with amusement as she waved him off at his request, he was diverted to the question of when his boyfriend was coming over. “Uh...” A good question doesn’t follow because he was sure that he should know, finding himself at a loss and pulling his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his texts. “Guess I didn’t say. We agreed to dinner, so it’ll be a late dinner. I think he’s more of the kind of guy that just texts and lets me know he’s coming. I think it’s healthy for me, it’s a good way to drag me out of the apartment when I have my head up engineering’s ass. Speaking of-” His rambling was cut off by him lifting his arm and ducking his head to avoid being whacked with the shorts, letting out a noise of protest. Brat. What a pair of brats and no wonder they’re platonic soulmates. Her playful demeanor only caused him to bubble into laughter, regaining his composure when she turned away to try to get that Godforsaken dress off her again. His eyes flitted to his French bulldog lying on the rug and gnawing at the pinecone; at least he had been too preoccupied to immediately shower Hazel in affection while she still had that dress on. “Oh, always. He’s on this new thing where I take him for a walk and he just decides he doesn’t fucking want to walk anymore and he’ll lay down, make me drag him all over town. It’s ridiculous. I’ve never owned a pet that is so lazy, cats aside,” he complained, stepping forward at her request. Smirking in response to the snide comment she had made, he met her eyes briefly when she looked over her shoulder, focusing on the dress. The mention of her bra only made him shrug, replying honestly, “I could care less if you wanted to just take it off. You’ll be lazing in your pajamas, I don’t see the point of wearing a bra.” Then again, he wasn’t a woman, so he can’t exactly attest to how true that one is. Starting to focus on tugging the zipper down carefully, he made a face at the dress. Jesus, this zipper was pretty tight. “So anyway, engineering! What was I saying... Oh, yeah! You know how I have to do that project class the entire senior year? I should be hearing back on whether I get to work on that electrical trees team really soon. Right now, we’re just in the planning stages, so I still have time. I think I have a good chance, I’m pretty excited.” His voice was filled with enthusiasm as he spoke, perhaps moreso than usual; after all, he hadn’t been sure if he would be able to return to it after his diagnosis. Being able to still do both sides of what he loved between university and his job was more of a relief than anyone would ever know. Finally freeing her from the dress, he pushed it off her shoulders smoothly and to the floor, grinning and giving her jazz hands cheekily. All better.

[dvstpan]

chancebernard‌:

“I like the rush.  It feels like what I imagine control feels like.  Having control over anything in the world is nearly impossible, yeah?”  He blurted out, unable to stop his thoughts from spewing out of his mouth.  “The world sort of does whatever she likes.  Mom taught me that!  And she never questioned where I was finding the money, though my sister smacked me ‘round some whenever she suspected something.  She tried real hard to be my mother, I think.”  He shrugged, looking down at Muppet and grinning again.  “I miss them, a bit!  I don’t think they even know where I am,” he chuckled a little at that, finding it amusing to think that he’d been so close to his family and now they didn’t even know where the hell he’d run off to.  They were good people…despite how they’d felt about his relationship, they would’ve wanted to help him get past his grief.  Instead, he’d disappeared without a word.  “Ninth?  Oh wow, that’s a lot of movies.  They’re good though, yeah?  Award-winning, or something?  Not that that always means anything…I’ve seen some movies that were nominated for those big award shows, and sometimes they’re just terrible.  Did you see the one about the lobsters?  That one frightened me a bit, actually…” Chance trailed off, cocking his head to the side and furrowing his brow as he recalled the movie.  It wasn’t really about lobsters, but that was all he could really recall about it, besides the fact that it was unsettling.  When Dustin offered a chance of clothes, he looked over at him, grinning again.  “Do you?  That would be great!  I didn’t think to bring anything, but I’d love to stay the night!”  He didn’t get a chance to really respond to their ongoing slow-dancing conversation, though he did feel the reference to Dustin’s mental illness, and it made his heart hurt a bit.  He couldn’t imagine what the other was going through, but he wished he could take it away.  Anything that was bad, or hurting Dustin, Chance wanted to take from him.  But he didn’t know what it was like to listen to his own head, his mouth was too busy taking the words and spitting them out for Chance to hear them before they were said aloud.  Not that it was at all the same in their heads, but he tried to empathize anyway.  Their kiss made his heart skip a beat, and it practically fluttered when Dustin leaned in for more.  Chance adjusted himself a bit on the floor, moving so his knees weren’t underneath him anymore, his ass gently hitting the ground while his legs moved around Dustin.  Melting into the kiss, Chance planted his feet on the ground behind the other, knees rising a bit to better frame him, enclosing him into the kiss, and into Chance.  “Everyone should go for the things they want to go for, in the moment,” he said when they pulled apart again.  “I don’t have the patience for indecision…may as well just go for it.  It’s always better to get what you want the very moment you want it, yeah?”

There was a pause as Dustin thought about his question, actually thought about it. He had spent an extensive amount of time trying to deny that he had no control over anything that happened in his life while also facing the harsh reality that his father had molded a large portion of his future for him and wrecked his childhood at the same time. Brow furrowing as he thought about it, he eventually answered, “I think... for a while, I wanted to believe I had control over shit that happened in my life and I would have argued that. Now... I think I agree with that.” His life had slipped out of his control before he had been hospitalized and there hadn’t been a damn thing he could do about it. A small smile remained on Dustin’s face as Chance rambled on about his family, falling away when he mentioned they didn’t know where he was. “...Have you thought about getting back in touch with them? It’s not really any of my business, of course. I don’t want to pry.” He could imagine disappearing on his own family, surprisingly, because he had thought about it before when he was paranoid and convinced he would have to go off the grid to disappear from his father’s radar. The thought seemed ridiculous, in retrospect, though he still wondered how they would have felt. His siblings would have asked for him constantly, he was sure. “Oh yeah, I think they’ve won awards. Don’t count me on that, I’m not a movie expert. I could tell you more about chart-topping music than what movies have won awards. Lobsters? I don’t think I’ve heard anything about a movie all about lobsters, that sounds... actually, pretty fucking terrible,” he said with a chuckle, twisting his finger around a strand of Chance’s hair absently as he sat beside him, nodding his head at his question. He was sure he could wrangle something up out of his drawers that Chance could slip into. “Perfect. I promise my mattress isn’t all that uncomfortable,” he teased, leaning in to capture his lips again. Melting into it as they sank to the floor, his body pressing against Chance’s, he pulled away a little and laughed when he spoke, shaking his head a little. “Yeah... Yeah, you’re right. Here’s a question for you, then: What is it you want right now?” His words were half-joking, leaning close to press teasing, affectionate kisses across his cheek and jaw, pulling away when the oven announced it was ready, smirking at him and getting up off the floor. Going over to the oven and sliding the pizza into it, he set the timer and leaned back against the counter, a thought occurring to him abruptly, visible from the look on his face. “Oh! I need to take my medication when the pizza’s up. I don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night seeing shit.” It wasn’t funny, really, but sometimes jokes were the only way to deal with it, smiling and nodding toward the bottles on the counter. “Would you like to do the honors? I can get the glasses.”

[dvstpan]

“Tie your life to a goal, not to people or things.”

— Albert Einstein

[dvstpan]

Meet Monkey.

[dvstpan]

(Source)

[dvstpan]

hellomaisy‌:

maisy giggled. “i did something and it just burned me more than them so i just stay away to avoid trouble.”, she said, shrugging lightly. “its just way way way easier.”, she said, smiling at him. the girl nodded. “well as long as science says so.”, she giggled. “its just nice because pretty much everyone is at the party so the streets are pretty empty and i can be alone with my thoughts.”, she said, smiling at him again. the girl’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “really? but you’re dressed so fancy! i’m impressed.”, she said, giggling. she loved it when men dressed up, they always looked so good. while boys in cargo shorts and t shirts were cute, she was a sucker for a man well-dressed. the girl looked at them closely. the designs were so tidy and intricate, she was impressed. “these are seriously the coolest. i want to get a bunch of tattoos one day so i can be like a hot suicide girl!”, she giggled. the girls on that website were so hot. she wanted to get to that level one day. “really?? my friend hazel is a tattoo artist! you should meet her, she does such a good job.”, she said, smiling up at him. the girl shook her head. “no, my parents didn’t approve so i never got one. i’m thinking about it now though.”

Yikes. That was never a good thing to hear- not in the sense that she was a bad person, just in the sense that it had hurt her rather than helped her. He had been there. Running his fingers through his black curls and listening to her, he smiled and nodded in agreement, glancing at the building where the party was being held. His boyfriend had invited him but he had politely declined after deciding he wasn’t really feeling up to it. “The streets are usually empty anyway, I think, try walking the streets of New York City if you think Crownsville has crowded streets. You’ll be ready to die in no time flat,” he joked, tilting his head to the side and making a face at the compliment, striking a brief pose. Of course, he was just messing around; he knew he looked nice but he would hardly call himself as handsome as the next guy in a tux. “These?” he inquired as she looked at his arm, offering her his other arm when she was finished looking at that one, “I have some on my ankle, and this one on the side of my neck...” Tilting his head to expose it, he laughed at her joke, trying to picture her as the girls in question. Then again, had he visited that website? Not so sure, and if he had, it would be lost in his internal monologue of the many, many endless websites he had visited over the past couple of weeks for his current course load. Senior year was shaping up to be a pain in his ass and exciting at the same time. “Hazel? No shit! I work with her, actually. She’s kinda my boss- don’t say that to her directly or she’ll deny it. My dad, uh, owns the company- franchise? I’m not a business major. Anyway, he owns the Permanent Record shops, I take after him. I’m sure she’ll get you fixed up if you ever wanna get one.” Pausing and realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet said that he was working with Hazel in the same breath, he extended his hand and gave her a polite smile. “Sorry, I’m Dustin Graves. Just call me Dusty. Only my parents really call me Dustin.”

[dvstpan]

lcsbicas‌:

     dusty’s gratitude doesn’t need to be flamboyantly articulated and drawn out for hazel to know just how much he appreciates getting to come back to work. all she can do is smile at him and give a gentle nod showing that she understands, because what more can be said ? she has no worries about him getting back to work, as long as those who have a better grasp of his mental health and the intricacies that come along with it are in full agreement that he’s ready; it’s been enough time, he seems well enough, and he’s being smart about it. he isn’t rushing in to anything, and all the appropriate steps are being taken. they’ll ease him into it, and she has full faith that he can do it. speaking about miles is a little less easy, and there’s a shift in the air as the conversation moves onto the subject. dusty’s point is very valid, she can admit, and although it’s said very matter-of-fact and it causes her to pause, she still can’t help but immediately think that her answer is yes. she loves miles dearly, but their father hurt dusty, and although it may be wrong of her, she sees it as being more dusty’s business than it is miles’. she would rather have heard it from him. there’s probably more of them out there. that, though it causes her to wince, is probably true. his father is a repulsive man, and hazel knows that. she knows what he did, and why he did it. there was nothing better to do. what causes hazel’s face to sleepily contort in an expression of disgust, is the revelation that miles’ mother knew. yet another person knew but didn’t do a single thing. yes, she wanted to protect her child, and she should’ve, and hazel cannot and will not judge her for that, but she didn’t do a damn thing about the child that was being hurt. what if that had been her son ? hazel’s point of view is very black and white: she should’ve had more empathy. nobody ever did a damn thing for dusty, and even now, it infuriates hazel. “you —- i know y’never would’ve let anythin’ happen, and nothin’ ever did, but jesus fuckin’ christ. she should’ve done somethin’,” even calling the police surely would’ve done more to protect miles, if that’s all she cared about ? hazel truly can understand caring about nothing but keeping the person she loved most in the world safe, but not like that. even if he had been in danger, saving him would’ve only doubled the horror for dusty. “but yeah, dusty. when it’s comin’ from him by accident because he doesn’t even know i know ya, and i’ve heard him talk about his dad like the sun shines out his ass, and he’s askin’ me why ya hate him, yeah i kinda wish you’d told me. i get that… it’s not a big deal,” or, she’s trying to. “but it came outta nowhere. i didn’t know what to tell him,” she sighs, but thinks it goes without saying that she didn’t tell him anything. “that’s not shitty,” she says immediately, in nothing more than a whisper. he’s not a brother to him, that she can understand. it being old news also makes sense; it’s hardly like he found out about him recently and decided to keep it to himself. like she did.  “that makes sense,” she murmurs eventually, hand lifting to gently run up and down his upper arm. it wasn’t a big deal, and nothing he put a lot of thought in. he didn’t mean to keep it under lock and key. though, how it’s never come up in conversation after eight years… christ, she’s too tired for this. it’s been a long day, and perhaps now is hardly the time to even have this conversation. hazel mendes and her glorious timing strike again. when he questions her own confession ( the one that should have her, quite frankly, shutting the fuck up about dusty’s own half-sibling and the fact he hadn’t told her about it. then again, she’d defend that with a weak ‘it’s different’ ) she just nods for a moment, before correcting it, “well, my dad had another kid, yeah.” as if that makes a difference. to hazel, though, it’s a big difference. she doesn’t have a sibling. she’s still an only child. “her name’s adie. she’s, uh —” she takes a moment to think on it, eyes shifting while she does so. adie’s nineteen. “well, i guess she must be twenty. she got in touch about a month before i moved here, and i basically told her to fuck off. i didn’t need a reminder in human form that my dad… did that,” she didn’t tell her to fuck off, either. she was as kind as she could manage, and she blamed it on bad timing ( which was true; she’d just left an abusive relationship, was about to move states in a month, and was preparing for a promotion she still won’t admit she got ) but she didn’t need her view of her late father to change, and acknowledging that his ‘affair’ lead to another child was certainly going to cause a shift. she couldn’t deal with it, not then. not so unexpectedly. if she didn’t have a constant reminder of it, she could still see marcos mendes as the man she knew him to be. if he were still here, though… well, that’d be a different story. oh, how hazel would’ve yelled. “i knew he cheated. pieced that together on my own when i got a little older, but i didn’t know about… well, that. anyways, it doesn’t matter. that’s not the point. but yeah – same boat, i guess. so… you two don’t get on or anythin’ ? even now ?” he’s practically said it through them not being close, but her mind’s still foggy after the events of today, and she’s still a tad slow on that front. she just wants to confirm it, and get that clarification. hopefully she can stay awake long enough to hear the answer, but there’s a small, dopey smile that lazily pulls at her lips as he gives her a squeeze, snuggling into his chest and knowing she’ll be alright if she does doze off. it won’t be a long nor deep sleep, if she does, but even resting her eyes for a few moments surely won’t hurt. “how is he ? ‘s he doin’ okay ?” she asks in reference to dusty’s boyfriend, but it’d be a lie if she said she didn’t hear the exhaustion in her voice. it’s been a hell of a day. 

This conversation isn’t exactly one that he thought they should be having in the here and now while she’s in the hospital and they’ve just had a very long day. It isn’t a conversation he would like to have ever, more importantly. Still, it’s already happening and there was nothing that he could do to stop it now. Only shaking his head when she spoke about Miles’ mother, he brushed it off, saying softly, “Hazel, it’s in the past, I really don’t want to dwell on that part of it.” He was serious, too. The damage had already been done and there was no point at being bitter with someone he didn’t even know on a personal level. Miles’ mother had an obligation to protect her son, she didn’t owe anyone else’s anything, no matter what harm Winsor Graves might be doing to any other kids of his. In his perspective, people have to be selfish sometimes. Winsor was a powerful man in his own rite and karma had eventually caught up to him with the embezzlement crimes. He wasn’t bitter about it in the slightest. Closing his eyes and feeling a wave of guilt wash over him as she continued, he realized she had a point. Still, where would he have found a good moment to tell her? From the moment he reconnected with Miles, all he knew was this gut-wrenching paranoia that his father would find him and that Miles would tell him where he lived and he had and that overtook the rational part of his brain. How can he explain that? Despite not being close to Miles, it felt as if it would be unfair if he put that out there. Just threw it out there. There was no point now anyway, with all of it blown over and a restraining order against his father. “I’m sorry,” he bit out quietly, heaving a sigh, the guilt weighing down in his chest, “I don’t think about it. I don’t talk about it. He’s not a sibling to me. Josh and Freya and Martha are, I don’t talk to him that much, it’s just... never crossed my mind. Why would I think in a million years you might be friends with him? I only knew him when I was little, we had barely reconnected a few weeks before... all the shit went down in my life. I just don’t think about it and I’d really rather not.” Of course, trust him to make the mistake of missing one tiny bit of information that did come back to bite him in the ass, more or less. Falling silent as she spoke about her own half-sibling, he surmised her relationship with her half-sister was vastly different from his with his half-brother. Dustin was far too polite to do anything of the sort and the fact the vile creature that was his father spread his seed had never been surprising to him. “I’m sorry. I know that must have been hard for you... you have a lot of love for your father. It... paints it in a bad light, I suppose. But no, we aren’t close. We don’t hang out much. We get along... off and on. It’s difficult for us to overcome our differences, I think... and it’s... I don’t know. Awkward. I did tell him what he did to me, by the way. I think he gets it now.” Which may be the only point of understanding they’ve finally come across thus far-- but he digressed. Every small win was a victory. Patting her on the arm, he made a face and chuckled, replying, “He has a real sexy gash on his forehead that needed stitching. No big deal, it wasn’t awful.” She was beginning to fall asleep from what he could tell and he shifted to get more comfortable, rubbing her arm. “Get some rest for a bit. I’ll wake you up, I promise.”

[dvstpan]

chancebernard‌:

Being called ‘perfect’ made him blush, but he didn’t say anything in response to it.  He focused more on the next thing Dustin said, about falling in love with him, and thinking he was adorable because of his ‘hidden talent’.  Paul had hated this part of Chance.  And yeah, Chance knew stealing was wrong, but sometimes that adrenaline rush was just what he needed, and he generally only stole when he needed to.  Sure, champagne wasn’t really a need, but there had been so much of it at the ball, and whoever had funded the event really didn’t seem to need all of that money they’d spent on everything…what was two measly bottles of champagne to them, really?  Dustin’s praise made Chance feel proud all over again, and he looked up at him, smiling happily.  “I’m stealthy, nobody sees me.  I used to pickpocket tourists, when I was a kid,” he shrugged his shoulders, briefly wondering if that was something he was allowed to be proud about, now that Paul was gone.  “I helped my mom pay rent that way!”  It wasn’t said sadly, more excitedly than anything else.  “Pizza sounds amazing!  I think it’s the perfect pairing for this wine, don’t fret about that.  I’ve never seen Star Wars, but I’ve heard a lot of great things about it!  How many movies are there, now?  I feel like there’s a whole bunch, right?”  Chance blushed again when Dustin offered to help him get his clothes off, and he laughed a bit, quietly.  “Sorry, it’s just…these clothes aren’t all that comfortable, yeah?  Not really used to all these layers, and buttons, and, like, constricting fabrics,” he responded, fiddling with his sleeves a bit to emphasize how constricting they were.  His eyes were back on Muppet as he rubbed his belly, listening to Dustin’s offer to dance.  “I was never good at slow dancing.  I talk too much, sort of ruins the atmosphere.  But fast dancing, I can get lost in that.  Makes me stop thinking for a bit, so I stop talking, just sort of feel the music.  Slow dancing is nice, but I feel like I get annoying sometimes.  Not that it’s ever really stopped me before, everyone knows I’ll talk even once you’ve told me I’m annoying.”  He grabbed Dustin when he received the kiss on the cheek.  Chance couldn’t stop himself, his hand moved quickly to grab the other by his collar and yank him back again, connecting their lips and kissing him a little harder than they’d kissed when Dustin had answered the door.  He even turned his body, other hand leaving Muppet and moving to rest on Dustin’s hip, pushing his own body closer to the other’s.  After a few moments, he pulled back again, smirking slightly.  “Sorry…had a few glasses at the masquerade, it makes me a bit giddier than normal.  Wine does that, I think, more than anything else I’ve had to drink before!”

Despite being a goody two-shoes for most of his life, Dustin could still see the pros and cons of indulging in something that was a little less than moral. Besides, the ball was large and extravagant, nobody was going to miss the two bottles he had swiped. Chance hadn’t had bad intentions with it. His reasoning on why he was good at it, on the other hand, caused the smile to fall from his face a little. “You were just trying to help your family out, that’s fair,” he said after a moment, shrugging, “My birth parents went to prison for embezzlement, so I guess that’s a different kind of stealing- I think it’s kind of attractive.” Not to say he was condoning it in the slightest, but who said they couldn’t have their fun for the night? Nodding when he agreed to the pizza, he pulled it out of the freezer and set the oven to preheat, listening to him ramble on as he opened the box. “I think they’re making the ninth movie right now. I just got through watching the eighth one earlier. I didn’t watch them in order tonight. Just the ones that I wanted to watch. If you want to watch them sometime, I do have all the movies. Otherwise I just kind of watch space stuff... like Interstellar. I think I watched that the other night with Teddy.” The plot was confusing so it might not have been the best choice for a leisurely movie night. Turning back to him and smirking at the blush on his face, he gave another good-natured shrug, suggesting kindly, “I have some extra clothes that will fit you, if you’d like. They might be a little baggy, I’m taller than you. You could sleep over if you wanted, too.” If he didn’t want to share a bed with Dustin, he did have a perfectly nice couch in the living room. They’d snuggled up together in his bed before so he doubted that would be much of a problem. He could understand that most people would find the kind of dressage he was sporting rather uncomfortable; at one time, Dustin had never been one for it until his style had, once again, changed and he had “grown” into the classic white button-ups and bowties. Wanting to feel presentable at all times rather than dressed so casually in a t-shirt and jeans, it had been his best option. Fast dancing, on the other hand, was never something he could get into- he had rhythm but not that much. His performances were focused on the singing rather than the dancing, the visual experience of his shows doing it for him. “I think talking too much while slow dancing sounds unique, there’s nothing wrong with it. Besides, it gives me something to listen to other than my own head.” The stark reminder of his mental illness caused him some amount of hurt. The thought flew out the window the moment that Chance grabbed him by his shirt collar and yanked him down, their lips colliding, Dustin’s hands immediately on his waist to steady him and pull him closer. Leaning in to return it and deepening the kiss, he almost tilted Chance back against the floor for a moment, pulling away when he did, slightly out of breath. “You... are the most spontaneous person I’ve ever met. I like that- and you’ve just made Muppet jealous,” he replied, shaking his head and laughing, leaning in to kiss him again.

[dvstpan]

lcsbicas‌:

     “oh my god, y’need to show me that. but i call bullshit on dave laughin’ ! remember a few years ago when we had to get all dressed up for… whatever the fuck it was, the poor guy saw me and looked like he was gonna cry,” she points out, amusement lurking in her tone; she’s aware that she’s exaggerating slightly and it’s obvious, but Big Boss did look proud. what can they say ? permanent record’s a second family to everyone that holds it close to their hearts. “roxie and i got plenty of photos, before i got all bedraggled… but y’know i’d do anythin’ for that kid. you asshole,” she says, which loosely translates to ‘yes, if you must’ despite the exhaustion lurking in her tone. she could practically fucking kiss him as he lets her in, and the first thing she does is kick her shoes off, returning to her unimpressive height of 5′3′’ and feeling far better for it. those shoes are deathtraps. crouching to rearrange her shoes in a more appropriate manner now she’s dramatically rid them from her feet, she plants her mask atop them, as well as her tiny and pathetic excuse of a purse. once upright, she can’t help but smirk as dusty says he fits being donkey more so thank shrek. “yep, ‘cause you’re an ass,” she quips, but he truly did walk into that one. she’s patient with him, as always, as he tries to think if he still has her pyjamas ( what with them being as close as they are, and often crashing with the other, it only seemed appropriate to keep something to sleep it at the others’ home; it means she doesn’t have to keep stealing his shirts. she’s pretty sure she’s got a spare toothbrush around here somewhere, too ) knowing it takes him a moment sometimes. the old noggin isn’t what it used to be, but his life is better, so that’s all that matters. as he thinks on it, hazel reaches into her bra to grab her phone, and even if she’d thought about it before doing it, she’d know that dusty is surely used to such methods of storage after being her friend for eight glorious years. as much as she wants to call muppet over, and as much as she loathes this dress right now, she knows that’s just because she’s been in it a while without wanting to be, and she’ll regret it if she lets muppet get fur all over it, or get too excited and claw at it a little, so instead she ( again, unfazed ) reaches behind her back to find the zipper and tug it downwards, but this dress proves itself to be out to get her today. she can’t reach the damn thing, no matter how much she flaps at her own back and the air behind her. she’ll get to muppet in a moment, when she’s safe and sound in something soft – even if her pyjamas have, somehow, gone walkabout, she’s hoping she can bat her eyelashes ( her real ones, she drew the line at falsies ) at him and borrow a shirt ( that she vowed to stop stealing ) for an hour or two. she doesn’t intend on staying the night, as she’s hardly going to invite herself to do that, but she’d just like to be comfortable while she is here. “dustbug, can y–” she begins to call through to him, just as he does the same, and just like that, there’s a pair of pyjamas flying in her direction, and, in the blink of an eye, half whacking her in the face. her hands come up to catch them, and although she catches the shirt successfully, still quick to react even after all these years, the shorts head further north, gently flying into her face. wonderful. with a scoff of laughter, she grabs them with her free hand, and plants the shorts and the shirt on the sofa for a moment. “that went right in my mouth ! thanks, bun !” she protests playfully, already a little perked up by dusty’s presence. “thanks, though. i need to get outta this dress. plus i wanna say hi to the dog. you’re okay with me gatecrashin’ for a bit, yeah ?” she asks, just to double check, reaching behind herself to try and grab at the bastard zip on her dress again, arching her back a little in hopes that if she can’t bring her hand to the dress, she can bring the dress to her hand, but to no such luck. 

“Oh my God,” Dusty all but groaned at the reminder, rolling his eyes and clapping his hand to his forehead, “I forgot about that... I was late as fuck picking you up but I think he looked like he was gonna cry seeing me, not you. You know, because he loves his son and thinks he’s the most gorgeous thing he’s ever procreated.” Granted, his dad isn’t his biological father; that doesn’t mean he can’t make jokes about it. They might as well be father and son with how much they act alike, perhaps even look alike to a certain extent. Dustin had never looked anything like he-whose-name-shall-not-be-spoken and that was a plus for him. “I wanna see these cute photos anyway, so yes, I insist. Speaking of cute dates, mine should be coming over later?” She left the ball early by the look of the clock and he isn’t really expecting his boyfriend until dinner- a late dinner, that is. A very late dinner. However, Dustin wasn’t feeling up to going to the ball, and his boyfriend had been kind enough to offer to come over later and Dustin was more than happy to see him, if not excited. Such excitement, especially after going out with one person for so long, was unusual for him- it meant something, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on what. He liked Chance. Watching her remove her shoes, discard her purse and mask, he laughed at her tasteful quip, rolling his eyes. Yes, and he was intentionally doing so just to fuck with her. “You love me anyway,” he returned easily, not batting an eye as she pulled her phone right from her bra while he was in the process of trying to figure out whether or not the pajamas, were in fact, on the premises. In fact, he was more concerned with remembering if the shirt existed on the same existential plane that he ended up wandering off while she was doing all of that, returning to find her awkwardly trying to grab at her zipper, only to be hit in the face with said pajamas. The smirk on his face was maniacal, getting a kick out of every damn moment she stood there with the shorts on her face. “Nice catch, you’re great with your mouth,” he joked, ambling over to her casually and shrugging nonchalantly, “Yeah, sure, you’ll be watching Last Jedi because I’m not turning it off but I made popcorn. Hot and fresh and buttery. Right off the stove. Muppet might fall asleep on you and get some pinecone bits on you in the process.” Although he was about to offer to help with the dress, he stood there just a tad longer to watch in amusement at her failed efforts to remove the dress from her body, tilting his head. Eventually, the futile attempts are nothing short of ridiculous and sad, leading him to offer, “You, uh, want some help with that? I’ll try not to catch your underwear on the way down. Shit like that can get stuck on clothes real easy.”

[dvstpan]

chancebernard‌:

Somehow, his grin managed to get even bigger when the door opened and he saw Dustin.  He didn’t quite understand the reference, but he knew who Heath Ledger was, and if he was being compared to him then he was satisfied.  Chance returned the kiss happily, practically bouncing into the apartment when he was invited.  “Three months sounds right!  I don’t mind dragging you away from things, I actually very much enjoy being a distraction!”  As he walked, he spun so he could step backwards, holding up the bottles of champagne for Dustin to see.  “Look!  I stole these,” he started, spinning back around to place the bottles gently on the nearest flat surface.  “The whole place was real ritzy, so they’ve gotta be good, yeah?  You didn’t miss much.  It was fancy, and everyone looked really, really nice, and there were some really neat things in the auction!  But I got a bit bored, honestly.  So I left pretty early.  I would much rather be here!”  As he yammered on, barely taking breaths between sentences, he started to strip without really thinking about what he was doing.  His borrowed suit jacket was draped over a nearby chair, his bowtie untied and then dropped right alongside the champagne bottles, and then he unbuttoned the top three buttons of his dress shirt.  It was odd, being dressed like that.  He definitely preferred his own comfier clothes.  When he saw Muppet, he threw himself at the dog, dropping to his knees to pet and play with him.  “You missed out on dancing with me, though!  I suppose we can dance another time.  I missed dancing, I think!“  He looked up at Dustin, still grinning and rubbing the dog’s belly now.

Dustin smiled into the kiss and shut the door behind his boyfriend, locking it again, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants and watching him with the grin still plastered on his face. Fuck, he really did like Chance, a realization that hit him all at once like a brick. “You are a good distraction, a very convincing one. I really need it in my life. You’re perfect.” Focusing on the bottles that he held up when he spun around, he all but lit up. Dustin had rarely had a drink since he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia; although he could drink now, he hadn’t had the time. This was perfect. “Holy shit, I think I might fall in love with you right now. That’s fucking adorable, by the way, but holy fuck. That is... You have a hidden talent I did not know about, sir.” Taking one of the bottles and examining the label, listening to him talk as he began to strip down, he couldn’t help but grin wider. He would much rather be here. “Yeah? You would? Damn, don’t say that too much, I might blush... I’m not that great of company. I’m having a boring Saturday night watching Star Wars, maybe you can spice my life up. I thought I’d throw in a frozen pizza for dinner, this wine doesn’t deserve such low quality but it’s all I have without wasting a lot of time cooking something up.” Glancing over at him when he began to strip out of his clothes, he quirked his brow, inquiring, “You, uh, want some help with that, babe?” His tone was half-joking, a smirk coming across his face. Turning his attention back to the bottle, he sat it back on the counter, leaning against it when he started to play with Muppet. “Who says we can’t dance now? I have a perfectly large apartment right here that we could dance in, all to ourselves, and some surround-sound speakers that will make it sound perfect. I’m only really good at slow dances though.” Shrugging and walking over, he sat down on the floor beside him and scratched under Muppet’s chin for a moment, planting a kiss on Chance’s cheek.