joblovv

[w0lfwren]

all my friends funnyposting in my dms while i’m mourning a dead man.

[datawyrms]

Prove it with one hand behind your back

Dannymay day 12: Gloves There is reference to the events in Hypothesis, but can be read stand alone. Now Ao3′d “Uhhh, Danny?” Jazz called up the stairs, laundry basket under her arm.

“What? I’ll get my stuff when it’s dry!” Her brother yelled back down, apparently not interested in leaving his room so they could speak semi-normally.

“Normally it would be my duty as your sister to throw your wash on the floor. Were you aware your laundry is glowing?”

Her frazzled brother appeared at the stairs then, taking them two at a time. “Geeze Jazz, tell the whole neighborhood why don’t ya?” he hissed as he passed.

“Mom and Dad aren’t here, and you’re welcome.”

“Obviously. Jerk.” he made an exaggerated frown at her before ducking into the washer, dragging out handfuls of the expected tee-shirts and jeans followed by an impressive amount of mismatched lightly glowing gloves.

“You’re taking trophies now?” she raised an eyebrow, unsure what to make of it. Not a single one had a pair, and none of them were even his ghost form’s hazmat gloves. Quite a few of them looked rather elaborate, some very interesting embroidered patterns making it obviously not something of her brother’s making. Delicacy was not his strong suit.

“Huh? No! These are-” he paused, taking a breath as he covered the glowing handwear with several shirts. “You remember that whole Sam got dragged to the ghost zone because Aragon’s an idiot thing?”

“The self important dragon shapeshifter with some serious hangups and anger issues?”

“Yeah, that one.” he nodded, rubbing at his chin. “Did I mention Dora sort of knighted us for helping drive him out of power?”

“No, but I’m pretty used to you leaving out important details by now.” Jazz smirked as her little brother rolled his eyes.

“It was nice of her and all but apparently they have a sort of tradition in her Kingdom? Where to show you’re worthy of joining the Queen’s guard you challenge one of the newest knights to a duel.” Danny paused to fish out one of the gloves. “Giving over a glove is basically how they ask for that duel. All very formal, I’d write it down if I could explain how I know without completely blowing my cover.”

“So you’ve got a bunch of medieval ghosts throwing gloves at you and wanting to duel...and you decided to wash them. At home.” Jazz crossed her arms. “Seriously?’

“Where else was I gonna do it? I thought they’d make decent proof so show Dad ghosts have society and rules.” He paused, throwing the glowing thing back under his regular clothes. “Then I remembered there’s no way I could explain how I got these. So now they’ll just smell nice in Sam’s closet or something.”

“Your closet a little too risky this time?”

“Nope. All of these belong to Sam. She’s the one getting all the challenges, not me.” he glanced down at his basket. “I think she named some of these.”

“It’s it a little unfair for a ghost to fight a human? That goes against the whole honourable and fair thing it seems to be going for.”

The half ghost grinned. “That’s what they think! Challenged gets to set the rules, and it turns out ghost knights are really, really bad at adjusting to ground only combat.”

Jazz blinked, the part that had been bothering her clicking into place. “Wait, so there’s that many because you’re still the newest knights?”

“Wasted every single challenger. I keep trying to convince them they’ll have a better shot against me, but noooo, they insist on trying to best the ‘breathing banshee’.” he shrugs. “Most of em would absolutely wreck me in a proper fight, I don’t usually need to fight ‘fair’ or anything.”

“So why don’t they go after Tucker? Getting all the way out here for a tradition can’t be easy.”

“He still insists he’s Friar Tuck. You don’t swordfight the clergy. None of them have actually called him on it, so maybe he is?” his brow furrowed, thinking on that. “Maybe I should ask Dora that sometime. Find out if we need to worry about some ghost pope later. Would not want to be the guy who punched the dragon queen’s ghost pope.”

Jazz couldn’t suppress a snort, easily able to picture such a mishap. “A year ago if you said that I’d say you should be committed. Now I’m just nodding along.”

“Even if you were saying it now, I’d get out.” A wicked grin accompanied a flash of green eyes.

“Very funny, dork.” Still, the idea was worth thinking about. “Well I can see why you wanted to try using them as proof.” The project was rather important to Danny, seeing as it was his best shot to get their parents to re-evaluate their ‘ghosts are mindless’ stance. “Maybe you could get Tucker to film a fight? Sam keeping ‘contaminated’ gloves wouldn’t seem that weird, and the variety can prove it’s not just one ghost mindlessly repeating the same behaviour.”

“I’d still be stuck explaining how Sam became ‘Sir Manson’ in the ghost zone. Which seems like a disaster waiting to happen.” his shoulders sagged. “They’ll think I made it up or Tucker did some video editing.”

“I still think it’s worth trying. Sam’s got a rich family, you could probably think up an excuse that she’s practically ‘royalty’ and that’s why they come.”

“Eh. Maybe. Don’t tell Sam but I’m giving the challengers tips now. The sooner they stop coming, the sooner I can stop getting all antsy about a ghost attack where I find out it’s another steel welding glove thrower.”

Jazz set her shoulders, determined to get some of that humour back in her dispirited sibling. “Use that. They owe you if you help them out, don’t they?”

“Well, I guess they do. Like I’ve had them tell me stories about what it’s like for them, if they remember stuff or have always been ghosts, they’re pretty chatty to a ‘fellow of the sword’...but it’s all stuff I write down. I can’t prove a ghost told me. I can’t film it, or have Dad listen in. The second they call me ‘Sir Phantom’ I’m toast.”

“He said he’d at least listen to what you found, right? It can be a starting point, and if you have some really specific detail it’s less likely that you made the whole thing up.” she stopped to ruffle his hair. “That, and if you were going to make something up, you’d have some star ghosts or ecto-aliens.”

“I would not!”

“Yes you would. And you’d draw them little space ships and everything.”

“...Okay maybe I’d make up some ships.”

“A lot of ships. With long complicated names. With scientific reasons for those names. Cus your my dorky little brother.”

“Well you’re my nagging big sister. You get to be the black hole equivalent.” 

“Just don’t give up on the idea so quickly, okay? It’s a good one, and it really can’t hurt too much to try.”

A small smile returned as he elbowed her “Careful, or they’ll think you’re being influenced by ghosts too.”

“It’s not like their theories can have any more concrete proof than yours does. What are they?”

“Dad thinks ectoplasm naturally ‘homes in’ on stuff over here, and that’s how they’re finding the portal.” he closes his eyes, foot kicking at the floor. “He’s got this box thing? A lot of box things with different kinds of ectoplasm to see if they move towards ‘our world’ over time. I keep forgetting it’s floating right next to the portal and almost kick it.” his face turns into a grimace. “Dad thinks ‘that ghost kid’ is messing with his experiment on purpose now, so that sucks.”

“Well you could mess with it on purpose, that would be intelligent.”

“Nope. That would be the ‘natural aggressive action’ towards human materials. Tried it.”

“What’s mom’s hypothesis then?”

“That the portal always being here makes this part of Earth more ectoplasm rich so they’re drawn to enter here instead.” he waves a hand. “She’s half right? I don’t think strong ghosts can go all that long without ducking back home to recharge. She’s using the frequency of ‘higher level’ ghosts as proof that they ‘need’ a certain level to function outside of the ghost zone.”

“Another theory you’re accidentally stomping all over.”

“Since they almost never spot ‘Phantom’ going back to the Zone, yeah. I apparently account for ninety four percent of all ghost sightings. Yet only three percent of that is being spotted outside of a fight. Which sounds really bad! No wonder they think I only think about fighting other ghosts.” he rubbed at the back of his head. “I think she plans to test that by uh. Sticking a ghost in a place with no ectoplasm to see how long they hold out, if at all. So I’ve kinda been...making sure she can’t do that.” he swallows, his glance towards his sister more timid than anything. “It'd be a really, really nasty way to die. From what I heard.”

“Good for you. She’ll thank you once you prove that sort of thing would be unethical.”

His frown didn’t move. “If I prove it. So far I’ve just proven they really don’t like that ghost kid.”

“From what I’ve heard you’re the one with the most solid proof. Once you’ve shown everything you’ve collected, then you could try convincing them to see for themselves you aren’t making it up.” Jazz urged, not wanting to watch her little brother give up again.

“Even if I could convince Dad to come in the specter speeder with me we’d scare most ghosts off. The ones we don’t might want to beat me up, or not use a name I can’t explain away.”

“Sam gets to set when one of those challenges happens right? Invite him to one of those.”

He blinked. “...I guess that might work. If Sam made it clear that they couldn’t say my name under any circumstances. There’s one lady who keeps coming, insists she’s going to be the one to get to succeed after ‘Slapping Sir Manson with her glove’, she might be down for that…” he caught the weird look Jazz was giving him. “Oh. Apparently if you’re rivals hitting the person with your glove is ‘provoking your betters’ into a fight? So it’s a respect thing? I don’t really get it. Sam thinks it’s great, which I didn’t see coming but I didn’t think we’d still be having ghost knight fights either.” he let out a breath. “I’m rambling again.”

“You know, if Mom and Dad could see how you talk about this stuff they’d know you aren’t making it up. Looks like ghost research does run in the family.”

Danny rolled his eyes. “I’m a ghost hunter if anything. It’s just nice being able to chat instead of fight sometimes. The ghost zone is pretty neat. If you know, half the stuff in there wasn’t trying to skin me alive.”

“I still think you have a good shot. You know it’s true, so they’ll have to see it given enough time.”

“Maybe. Can’t really talk about this stuff to them though. Gee dad, how do I know about Frostbite? Well when I stole the Ecto-Skeleton and shoved back Pariah Dark this whole tribe of yetis decided I was their Great One. So now we’re pals. Oh what’s that dad, you say the ghost kid did that? Funny thing!” he dropped his arms with a scowl. “That’d go over like a lead balloon.”

“Maybe stick to the dragon queen society for now. It’s not like anyone over here saw that. Then you can expand into the rest of the friendly areas.” she put a hand on his shoulder. “One step at a time Danny, you’ll get there.”

“I hope so. If it doesn’t, I blame you if I’m torn molecule by molecule.”

“Ew Danny! Don’t be so morbid, it’s not good for your development.”

“Is it morbid if I’m dead?” he winced from his sister’s whack to the head. “Ow! Half!”

“Better. Now scram with all those gloves before someone thinks you robbed a ghost antique boutique.”

“You’re such a busybody Jazz.” the half ghost teased before darting off with his half spectral laundry. It wouldn’t be an easy thing to convince their parents, but he did seem to be on the right track. So of course it was her job to make sure he stuck to it. Siblings had to look out for each other, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[idnek83]

Aid - Chapter 4/13

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Soda Kazuichi/Tanaka Gundham

Tags: Alternate Universe - Island Mode, No Game Spoilers, Masturbation,  Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Semi-Public Sex, Grinding, Wet Dreams, Anal Fingering,  Friends With Benefits,  Getting Together, Internalized Homophobia, Anal Sex

Summary: Everyone is hot and half naked because of their beach vacation. Soda is horny and tries to do something about it. Gundham tries to help and does. It all gets a little out of hand.

Chapter: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

Read on Ao3

This Chapter: Soda is slowly realizing his relationships might be changing. Soda has some feelings, Gundham has a secret, and both of them blow off some steam.

_____________________

Once he was out of Nagito’s sight, Soda stopped and looked around. Gundham had gone to the beach? He said he didn’t like the ocean or whatever, but now he was apparently going to the beach on his own? Had he just made an excuse earlier cus he didn’t want to hang out with everyone?

Had Gundham just not wanted to hang out with him?

Soda hesitated. Gundham might just get even more annoyed with him if he showed up and crashed his secret beach time. Maybe he really should just take the food back to his own room, eat way too much, maybe cry a little, then pass out for the night. That sounded like an alright plan…

But his dumbass already had told everyone he was taking food to Gundham, meaning Gundham would definitely find out that Soda had purposely not looked for him and get even more pissed. God damnit. He really couldn’t deal with it if Gundham hated him.

He started walking towards the beach. If Gundham got mad he could just play dumb and say he was going for a swim, he was still in his swimsuit after all.

It wasn’t a great plan but, hey, it was a plan.

He wasn’t really sure what he’d find; Gundham swimming, or exercising, or taming animals, or like, trying to summon a demon. But when he got to there, Gundham was simply standing still, dressed once again in his swim shorts and scarf, staring out at the ocean with a troubled look on his face.

Something about it made Soda feel like he was seeing something private. Like Gundham really wouldn’t want him there.

Before he could even think about leaving, Gundham turned his head and caught sight of him. He looked surprised and… embarrassed?

“My… Kazuichi, for what purpose have you disturbed my dark meditation?” He didn’t look mad, but Soda could tell he wasn’t happy to see him. Ouch. Fair, but still ouch.

“Uh, Teruteru made food for everyone so… I thought maybe you’d want to eat some too?” He awkwardly shifted the bowl in his hands.

“Ah, if you are simply here to deliver sustenance, you may do so and leave.” Gundham gestured dismissively to a spot on the ground where he had laid out a towel.

Oh shit, he was actually super mad wasn’t he, Gundham must be one of those guys who just never yells when he’s actually pissed, just gets quiet and scary. Shit. Fuck. At least he was used to being yelled at, he didn’t know how to deal with quiet angry people. He really needed to apologize.

“Look Gundham, I’m really fuckin’ sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“You are sorry?” Gundham looked surprised. God, he must think Soda is a real piece of shit to be surprised that he’d try to apologize. Soda’s chest felt tight. He was actually gonna cry. Gundham definitely already hated him.

“Y-yeah, I- look it was stupid and I’m stupid and I really didn’t mean to be so god d-damn shitty to you, I was just…” A stupid selfish asshole? An idiot chasing tail? The same useless fuck-up he had always been? God he wasn’t even worth the time Gundham was giving him to apologize. And now he was crying like some kind of pussy.

Gundham was standing in front of him now, Soda looked at the ground. Gundham didn’t need to see how ugly his face was when he was crying like a little bitch, and Soda didn’t want to see the look Gundham’s face when he realised just how truly pathetic he was.

“I just so- so fucking stupid and useless and-” He felt a hand on his naked shoulder.

“My sweet companion, I do not know what it is you are trying to apologize for,” Gundham pulled him close to his bare chest and began to gently stroke his hair “but I am certain it is not worth shedding your precious tears over.”

Soda sniffed, grossly, against Gundham’s shoulder “I t-totally ditched you today. I invited you out and the I just f-fucking left you.” His arms were just hanging at his sides while Gundham tried to comfort him. He had dropped Teru’s food. He felt incredibly stupid. He was incredibly stupid.

“I believe it was I who deigned not to accompany you.” Gundham moved his hand from Soda’s hair to his cheek, gently shifting his head so he was able to look into Soda’s eyes. “You have inverted the situation, dearest friend, I fear it is I who must ask forgiveness of you.” Gundham smiled in that soft way that made Soda’s chest hurt.

“I- huh? B-but I should have-“ He averted his eyes from Gundham’s face, he didn’t deserve Gundham’s kindness.

“Then I forgive you, if that is what you wish to hear. I forgive you for all that you believe you have done wrong, and I only ask that you to grant me the pleasure of your smile in return.” The hand on Soda’s cheek slid under his chin and lifted. Soda had stopped crying, but he didn’t smile. “Do not make me call upon my Deva’s, Kazuichi, you will not be able to withstand their wrath.”

Soda laughed weakly, turning his head to rest it against Gundham’s shoulder. “You didn’t a-actually bring them to the beach right?” He sniffled a little, feeling his tears drying on his cheeks “Isn’t it dangerous for them out here in the dark?”

“Ah, you once again prove to be wise beyond my perception. The Deva’s remain safely in their lairs.” Gundham’s hand was back in his hair, stroking.  “You’ve bested my deception with your dark insight, well done.” Gundham stepped back so he could look at Soda again. “Shall we partake in the rations you have fetched? Perhaps it would be best to converse after sating our hunger.”

Soda looked down at the food he had dropped, it looked like the lid had stayed on at least.

“Okay, y-yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

They sat on Gundham’s towel and ate in silence, as Soda’s shaky breathing slowly returned to normal. He always felt so unsteady after crying, it was embarrassing. At least Gundham wasn’t making fun of him for it.

“Hey, um… Sorry about all that.” He said, staring at his feet. “I swear I’m not usually such a pussy, I just… had a weird day, I guess. Shit just kinda piled up and, well… I dunno, I guess I was worried you like, hated me or something?”

“I am… quite far from hating you.” Soda looked up, but Gundham turned away from him. “Why would you think I held such a feeling for you?”

“Cus of how I ditched you earlier! Like a complete asshole! What kinda friend does that?”

“So, the guilt you felt, believing you had abandoned me, that was what caused your emotions to spill out so violently?”

“I guess, kinda… yeah?”

“Ah, then I truly do own you my most sincere of apologies.”

“What? No man, it’s fine, really.”

“But it is my weakness which caused you such sorrow.”

“Your weakness?”

Gundham stood and turned towards the ocean. “As I said, it was I who chose not to accompany you. I… wished to partake in the ritual which our comrades suggested, however, I would not have been able to.”

Not able? Didn’t Gundham just hate the ocean or something?

“It is shameful but… I am unable to traverse Poseidon’s realm.” Gundham hid the lower half of his face in his scarf as he spoke.

‘Unable to traverse’? Wait, did he mean-

“You can’t swim?” Soda was sure he was misunderstanding.

What little Soda could see of Gundham’s face turned red.

“As I said, it is quite shameful. That is why I ventured here this dark night; I wish to overcome my weakness, so that I may partake when next I am bade to an aquatic ritual.” Gundham sighed “However, it is proving quite difficult.”

So he was trying to teach himself to swim? So that he could hang out with everyone next time they wanted to play in the ocean? That was… pretty cute.

“I could teach you.” Soda had spent some time checking out a busty swim instructor at a pool one summer, he figured he probably picked something up.

“You would aid me in this?”

Soda’s heart skipped a beat when Gundham spoke that word, and he knew he was blushing. He told his dick to shut up for a minute so he could help his friend.

“Course, I don’t mind. I missed you at the beach today anyways, so it’d be cool if you came next time.” Soda scratched his face and tried not to think too much about Gundham coming. “You wanna do this now or?”

“It was my intention to begin my training tonight. Does this suit you?”

“Sure, I could go for another swim.” He smiled at Gundham. Gundham smiled at him.

“Thank you, my dearest-”

A loud laugh could be heard coming from the direction of their cabins. Apparently their friends were returning from the other island. Soda saw the embarrassed look on Gundham’s face and realised he probably didn’t want the others to know about his ‘weakness’.

“C’mon, grab your stuff and let’s find somewhere else to do this.” Soda picked up the empty bowl they had been eating from and headed towards the rocky outcrop a little further down the shore. He could hear Gundham just behind him.

The “beach” on the other side of the hill wasn’t nearly as nice. It was essentially just a small patch of sand, surrounded by the rocky outcrop so you couldn’t enjoy the cool sea breeze during the day. But that also meant it was relatively isolated from the rest of the island and they wouldn’t have to worry about the others catching them here.

Swimming, they wouldn’t have to worry about the others catching them swimming here.

Gundham spread out his towel again and Soda bent over to set the bowl down next to it. When he straightened out, Gundham was behind him, staring. There was a moment of awkwardness between them.

“Uh, I guess we should get started then?” Soda laughed awkwardly and gestured towards the water, what was with this atmosphere?

“Yes, you are right.” Gundham removed his scarf, turned, and walked towards the ocean. Was Soda imagining it or did Gundham look a little… disappointed?

Weird.

Soda followed him into the water. The sun had set like an hour ago, but it was still plenty warm out and the coolness of the water was nice. Soda waded out until the water was at his waist, before diving forwards and enjoyed being submerged in the refreshing feeling for a moment. When he resurfaced he found Gundham staring at him with a worried expression.

“Don’t worry dude, it’s not even that deep here. If you think you’re gonna go under all ya gotta do is stand up.” Soda reached out and gave him a reassuring pat on the arm. Wow, he always forgot that Gundham was actually kinda jacked. His biceps were-

A topic for another time when he wasn’t trying to help his friend learn how to swim.

“Ok so uh, I guess we should just start with floating? Or do you know how to do that already?”

Gundham looked apprehensively at the water and shook his head.

“No worries man, just like, lay back and let the water catch you.” Soda demonstrated, then righted himself. “See? Easy. Your turn.”

Gundham slowly laid back, then promptly sunk below the water. Oops. Not easy apparently.

Gundham re-emerged, blushing and gasping. He turned his gaze to the shore.

“Perhaps-”

“Don’t worry about it dude, that was my bad.” He wasn’t going to let Gundham give up that easily. “Try it again, I’ll help you stay up this time.” Soda moved next to Gundham and put his hands out to catch him. “Just lay back again, I won’t let you go under, trust me.”

Gundham took a deep breath before laying back again. Once he was on his back Soda could tell his hands were the only thing keeping Gundham above water.

“Ok, so now you gotta just, kinda, spread your arms and legs.” He though back to the swim instructor, “Like a starfish.” Gundham complied and Soda felt the weight on his palms lessen. Almost there.

“K’ now you just gotta relax.” Gundham gave him an uneasy look. “C’mon, just like, take some deep breaths and close your eyes. I’m here dude, it’ll be fine.”

With a heavy sigh Gundham closed his eyes. He began taking deep breaths and Soda could feel the tension slowly leaving his body.

Soda felt kind of proud of him. This was probably pretty tough for Gundham, opening up and trusting another person like this. Soda wasn’t sure if he’d be able to do the same thing in his place.

Looking down at Gundham, Soda felt his heart beat a little faster. His face looked almost peaceful and his hair was a little messy. Apparently whatever product Gundham used to style his hair wasn’t waterproof. Soda let his gaze wander to the rise and fall of Gundham’s chest. He swallowed. Gundham had really nice pecs. And great abs. And thighs. And from what he remembered-

No, bad dick, helping Gundham comes first.

But maybe Gundham wouldn’t mind some help from his dick too?

“Is my form off?”

“W-what.” Gundham had opened his eyes at some point.

“I feel as though I am properly ‘floating’ now, but you seem to be examining my form quite closely. Am I doing something incorrectly?”

“Oh, no. You’re doing great. I was just…” Thinking about your dick. “Uh, anyways, why don’t we try a front float now?”

Soda waited until Gundham was standing and demonstrated floating on his stomach.

“So same deal as before, I’ll hold you up, so just focus on letting your body relax.”

Gundham lay forward, with much less apprehension than before, and Soda placed a hand on his stomach to support him.

God, Gundham’s abs. Soda couldn’t help but rub his hand over them a little, pretending he was adjusting his grip. Yeah, he was trying to focus on helping Gundham, but it was okay to be a little turned on right? Staring at Gundham’s back muscles wasn’t really helping the situation either. Why was Gundham in such good shape? Was training animals really that much work?

Focus Soda.

“You alright Gundham? Ready to try actually moving a bit?”

He felt Gundham tense up a bit, but he nodded anyways.

“Ok, I’ll keep holding you up for now so don’t worry. Just try kicking your legs a bit.”

–

Soda wasn’t sure how long they had been out there. He just knew Gundham was now able to do a passable breast stroke and that he had lost track of how many times he had blanked out just staring at Gundham’s body. He did know he had been caught more than once though. And that he had caught Gundham doing the same thing at least twice.

Gundham definitely didn’t need Soda to hold him up while he floated anymore, but he asked to do it again anyways, saying he wanted to focus on his form. Soda obliged, and Gundham didn’t ask why he placed one hand under his thigh this time, didn’t ask when Soda began to lightly squeeze and rub. Soda didn’t mention the quiet moan that escaped Gundham’s lips when he moved his hand to his ass, didn’t mention the growing bulge in Gundham’s trunks, just moved closer so Gundham could feel the one in his. Gundham didn’t stop him, instead he just stood, slowly, and pulled Soda in by his hips.

“Aid me.” Gundham pressed his cock into Soda’s hip, and breathed against his ear. “Please.”

Soda didn’t even have time to think about the way that word had gone straight to his dick. He grabbed Gundham’ hand and headed for shore.

He sat on Gundham’s towel, only to be pushed onto his back a second later. Gundham kneeled between his thighs and cradled his cheek.

“My sweet companion.” He whispered before ducking his head and kissing down Soda’s neck. Soda bucked his hips a little and slid a hand into Gundham’s hair.

“Fuuck, Gundham.” He moaned his name and bucked his hips again, the angle wasn’t right, he wasn’t getting the friction he wanted. He let out a frustrated groan.

Gundham must have understood what he wanted though. He slid his hands down Soda’s body and grabbed him by the hips, lifting them and pulling them flush with his own. Gundham lightly bit down on his shoulder and began thrusting against him. It wasn’t perfect, their cocks weren’t quite lined up right, but the friction caused by their swim shorts rubbing against each other as Gundham moved was still maddening.

“A-ah… my dearest… I- hah.” Gundham was moving quickly, nipping and licking at Soda’s neck and shoulders as he drove his hips forward. He was quietly moaning, his grip on Soda’s hips began to tighten, and his thrusts were growing stronger as he pulled Soda against him. He looked like he was already about to cum.

Gundham must have already been pretty turned on if he was getting close that fast. As hot as that was, Soda wasn’t ready for this to be over so quickly. He remembered he still needed to make Gundham scream.

“Gundham- ah- wait.” He ran a hand down Gundham’s back and squeezed his ass. Gundham slowed his thrusts. “What’s the rush? Lets slow things down a little.”

Gundham swallowed and stopped moving his hips. “Ah, my dark consort, I apologize. I was-” Gundham slid a hand back up to Soda’s cheek “Overcome.”

Soda shivered at the word. He didn’t think he had ever heard that tone in Gundham’s voice before. And ‘dark consort’ was new too, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t here to analyze Gundham’s speech though.

Soda squeezed Gundham’s ass again and moved his hands up to his chest, shoving slightly. Gundham got the hint and leaned back, only for Soda to follow him up. He placed his hands on Gundham’s shoulders and pushed him back until he was sitting so Soda could straddle his hips. Soda had planned to take the initiative, but Gundham didn’t give him time to.

Gundham’s hand found Soda’s hip, rubbing slightly before slipping onto his ass and kneading. He ran his other hand up Soda’s chest, teasing a nipple with his thumb before replacing it with his mouth. Soda gasped and tightened his grip on Gundham’s shoulders. He had though about sucking on girls’ tits before, but he never realised it would feel so good to have someone do it to him.

“Shit, Gundham.” He ground his hips down into Gundham’s. Gundham hummed in response, his deep voice resonating through Soda’s chest as he switched his attention to his other nipple.

Soda started grinding in earnest, enjoying the way he could feel Gundham’s breath catch against his skin. He reached down to free his cock from his shorts, then moved to do the same for Gundham. He couldn’t really see with Gundham still mouthing at his chest, so he did a bit of feeling around first instead. He traced Gundham’s abs with his fingers and used them as a guide down to Gundham’s cock. God, he forgot how big it was. He rubbed it through his shorts before finally freeing it. He couldn’t help it, he pushed Gundham back a bit so he could see his cock properly.

No fucking wonder he had sucked Gundham off in the beach house. His cock was just so… appetizing. He could literally feel himself salivating at the sight of it. He remembered how thick and warm and heavy it had been in his mouth last time. He wanted that again. He wanted it and he wondered if it would feel just as good in his ass.

His dick twitched but his mind froze. He probably wasn’t ready for that.

Yet.

Gundham was watching him. Waiting.

“What do you desire my consort?” There was that hand on his cheek again. He looked from Gundham’s cock to his face, his beautiful, flushed face. Gundham licked his lips. Soda followed the movement of his tongue with his eyes, and found himself focusing on Gundham’s mouth.

Fuck, he kind of wanted to kiss him.

Was that allowed? They had never really laid down any ground rules for their… relationship? No. Pact. That’s what Gundham had called it, and it was probably safest to just keep calling it that. Nice and vague. Obviously getting each other off was the main thing with their ‘pact’, they were just two bros helping each other relieve some tension, right? Did that make them fuck-buddies? Did people kiss their fuck-buddies? He’s pretty sure they did in movies, but then they always ended up falling in love, and he didn’t want that.

Right?

“Dearest consort?” Oops, guess he had been spacing out.

“Sorry, it’s just-” Probably best to just ask if they could kiss right? “I was um, t-thinking about your tongue? And like, uh y-your lips? Um- sorry.” or not. He had sucked this mans dick but somehow thinking about kissing him was turning him into a stuttering mess.

“Mmm, fret not, my consort, I understand.” Gundham gave him one of those soft smiles that did things to his heart and slid a hand down Soda’s neck, the back up, resting it on the back of his head.

Oh shit, okay. Here goes nothing then.

Gundham brought his other hand up to Soda’s chest and pushed him backwards. They ended up in the same position they had started in, only now with their cocks out and Soda’s legs spread wide. He wasn’t sure why they had to be in this position to kiss, but he wasn’t about to complain. He was all to aware how easy it would be for Gundham to fuck him in this position, and he was too distracted by how turned on that thought made him to notice Gundham was currently moving away from his lips.

Gundham was kissing his chest again, pausing to lick one of his nipples and give it a light suck before moving his head lower.

Oh.

No kissing then.

Soda felt… complicated. And complicated could wait.

The lips on his stomach reminded him he was about to get blown, and the hand wrapping around his dick reminded him that he was horny as hell.

Yeah, complicated could definitely wait.

Gundham was just barely pumping Soda’s dick. Teasing, Soda realised, getting him extra excited for the main event. Gundham kissed just below his belly button, then pulled away, making Soda whine. Gundham smiled and shushed him, pulling Soda’s swim trunks all the way off and moving back to where he had been, punctuating his action with another kiss below Soda’s belly button and a squeeze of his dick.

Gundham resumed his downward path, planting more kisses on Soda’s abdomen, each one getting just a little bit closer to his cock. Then, right when Soda thought there wasn’t anywhere else for Gundham to kiss, he lifted one of Soda’s legs and began to kiss along his thigh instead.

More teasing?

Soda couldn’t stand it.

He loved it.

He let out a frustrated moan. Gundham laughed and hummed into his thigh, then bit down gently. Soda couldn’t stop his hips from bucking a little, up into the barely moving hand Gundham still had on his dick. The friction felt good, so he did it again. Gundham used the hand he had lifted Soda’s leg with to hold his hip still and switched his attention to his other thigh. Soda couldn’t take it anymore.

“Gundham please! Stop teasing!”

“Were you not the one who said we should ‘slow things down’?” Gundham laughed against the spot where his thigh met his groin. Soda loved it and hated it.

“Y-yeah but c’mon, isn’t this a little too slow?”

“Mmm, then if that is your desire” Gundham finally put his mouth on Soda’s cock.

He kissed the tip gently before running his lips down the side and licking his way back up. Then he opened his mouth and sucked.

“Ah Gundham.” Soda couldn’t believe how good it felt. Gundham took more of his cock into his mouth and began to bob his head. Soda’s head shot back, and he felt like he was going to die from pleasure.

Gundham’s mouth was wet and warm and tight around his cock, and his tongue kept working along his shaft, making him feel things he could hardly describe. Soda knew he was moaning Gundham’s name, over and over, but he couldn’t stop. Every time Gundham pulled back he sucked hard on Soda’s cock and the only thing stopping Soda from thrusting up into Gundham’s mouth was that strong hand on his hip. He didn’t know where the hand on his thigh had gone, he couldn’t focus long enough to find it. He reached for the one on his hip and covered it with his own. Gundham moaned around his cock and laced his fingers through Soda’s, shifting so he could use his forearm to keep Soda’s hips pinned in place.

He was going to cum. He squeezed Gundham’s hand and looked down at him, trying to get his attention, trying to warn him in case he didn’t want Soda cumming in his mouth.

But the second he saw Gundham’s face, lips wrapped around his cock, eyes locked with his, and flushed the same way it had been when Soda had been sucking his cock, it was over. His hips were bucking against Gundham’s arm and he was cumming down his throat, his name on his lips. He could feel more than hear Gundham moaning around his cock, and the vibrations kept him at in ecstasy for just a little longer, before becoming to be to much for his sensitive cock.

“Gundham, please, it’s too much.” Gundham moaned again and pulled off his cock. He went back to Soda’s thighs, no longer gently kissing and teasing, but sucking and biting. Soda was vaguely aware of Gundham’s shoulder shifting rapidly.

“S-soda!” He squeezed Soda’s hand and buried his face into the crook of his thigh. He was so taken aback by Gundham actually calling him ‘Soda’ that it took him a moment to realise Gundham was cumming.

Oh, so that’s where that hand went.

Gundham kept his face pressed into Soda’s thigh for a moment, panting, before kissing it for a final time and crawling back up Soda’s body, releasing his hand only long enough to unhook his arm from around Soda’s leg before intertwining their fingers once again.

“You know I could have, uh, done that for you.” Wasn’t the whole idea of the pact thing to get each other off anyway?

“I’m sorry, my dear companion.” Gundham raised their clasped hands to his lips and kissed Soda’s fingers. “I simply could not resist. Between how beautiful you appeared in your ecstasy and sweetly you were calling my name-” Gundham sighed and smiled, looking into Soda’s eyes “I was bewitched.” He twisted their hands to kiss Soda’s knuckles without looking away.

It made Soda blush harder than anything else they had done.

That complicated feeling was coming back.

He never asked if it was alright to kiss him. He still hadn’t made Gundham scream.

Next Chapter

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Cuddles and Pick Up Lines

Hello all! I present to you an unedited one shot that is my first attempt at writing Peter Parker! If you like it, let me know with a like or reblog! 

“Hey Pete, are you made of copper and tellurium?”, I asked, fingers absentmindedly threading through his chocolate brown locks. Peter hummed lightly in response, eyes shut. 

“Cause you’re Cu-Te”, I grinned. His lips quirked upwards in a small smile briefly before it disappeared. He was still, eyes remaining closed, but he couldn’t fight the small amount of pink that was creeping its way up his neck. He was laying tangled with me as we cuddled on his bed. His head laid softly on my chest, arms wrapped tightly around my waist and legs intertwined with mine. His eyes were closed and his face was beginning to look peaceful.

“Funny”, he muttered sarcastically. My smile widened. 

“I’m serious babe. You must have 11 protons cause you are sodium fine”, I giggled. Peter chuckled lightly, the gentle vibrations across my body prompting me to continue. “I wish I were adenine; that way I could be paired with U”. 

Peter still didn’t open his eyes, but he couldn’t fight the sweet smile that overtook his soft features nor the raging blush covering his entire face. He snuggled his head even further into the crook of my neck in a vain effort to conceal his reaction. The move did little to convince me of his nonchalance-- as I could now feel the heat from his cheeks radiating to my own skin. I shivered unintentionally, and decided to momentarily give up on my playful assault and simply revel in our peaceful embrace.

 Moments like this weren’t uncommon by any means, practically a daily occurrence at this point, but that didn’t diminish my desire to live within this feeling forever. Though I rarely voiced it to Peter, I was perpetually worried that there would be a day he wouldn’t come back to me. A day when I was forced to contemplate life on my own, without these soft cuddles and gentle conversations. A life without Peter. Just the thought of it made my stomach turn and my hands begin to shake. 

At first when I’d found out about my boyfriend’s, shall we say, extracurricular nighttime activities I was a wreck; I was nervous all the time and I distanced myself from him in a pathetic attempt to save my sanity. Eventually I’d come to the realization that being away from Peter was just as bad (if not worse) for my anxiety; now I preferred to cope by throwing myself into my relationship with as much effort as I could. I savored every minute that I got with my sweet boy. Peter, thankfully, was more than relieved at my conclusion and too seemed to relish the time we shared. 

“I love you”, he murmured into the crook of my neck, voice so soft I barely caught it. My heart picked up speed instantly at his gentle admission and my stomach erupted into a flurry of butterflies. It amazed me that after all we've been through, first as friends and then as a couple-- all the sweet moments, each tender word and gentle caress still affected me as profoundly as the first. Instinctively, my arms tightened their grip around my sweet boyfriend and I felt the way Peter’s smile widened against my neck, smug at the reaction he caused. Damned spidey-senses. 

“And I love you bug”, I hummed lightly, fingers returning to their previous ministrations and threading across the wispy curls that littered his forehead. Peter sighed, practically purring at the soft touches. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”, I questioned gently, voice breaking the peaceful silence. It had been clear since the moment I’d met up with him after school that there was something off with Peter. His normally soft brown eyes had lost a little of their natural sparkle, and he was almost eerily quiet. Ordinarily after the last bell I was greeted with the welcome sights and sounds of my eager boyfriend already chattering away about whatever topic, but this afternoon he’d been practically silent. Today I’d had to reach out first to link our hands together, when usually I was barely out of my last class of the day before he was already latched to my side. The usual easy flow of conversation between us had been strained, the majority of speaking coming from me with only sparse hums of acknowledgement from Peter. Rather than pressure him for an explanation, I’d simply guided us toward his apartment and immediately pulled the troubled boy down onto his bed for cuddles once we'd arrived. We’d laid wrapped up together for a while, and now that I was more confident in his headspace I was hopeful for some answers for his very un-Peter-like behavior. He groaned. 

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid”, he muttered. My fingers abruptly stopped their gentle dance within his chocolate locks at his statement, brows furrowing. I softly pulled his face from its hiding spot in the crook of my neck and looked him directly in the eyes. 

“Peter, something that bothers you could never be stupid to me”, I scolded lightly. He sighed once more, eyes closing once more as he practically shoved his face back into my side. 

“I think it’s stupid”, he grumbled stubbornly. I remained silent, patiently waiting for him to continue. 

“It’s just...I overheard Flash and some of his friends talking last period about me- about Spiderman. Stuff like how he- how I’m just some loser in spandex trying to be the next Iron Man. How I didn’t even do anything important for anyone, and that I’d be forgotten by next year. Just got in my head I guess”, he mumbled, voice trailing off near the end. 

My heart practically tore in two at the defeat and hurt that laced Peter’s soft voice. No wonder he’d been so off. 

“Oh my sweet boy”, I sighed, tucking him tighter against my body protectively. “I’m so so sorry Pete. But you have to know that they're just jealous, teenage morons right?”. 

“I mean...yeah. I guess”, he whispered near inaudibly. 

“But?”, I probed gently, sensing that there was more. Peter sighed again, this time more aggressively than before as he abruptly sat up and rested his head against the wall behind us. 

“It’s just so freaking hard!”, he exclaimed, hands flying wildly to demonstrate his frustration. “I mean, I work so hard and I give up so much for this city and for what? Assholes like them? I sacrifice an honest relationship with May, time I could be spending with you, and just a normal freaking existence, all for people who don’t even care! For all the cops who try to arrest me whenever they see me, all the criminals that don't even take me seriously, and idiots like Flash and his friends who will never understand what I do for them. It sucks that to know I'm hurting people close to me over it too, like, I know May knows something is different and that it hurts her that I won't tell her, ya know? And you, you're anxious all the time because you're worried about me. I mean, you almost even left me because of Spiderman, and yet I still stick with it like the idiot I am hoping that I make a difference to this city. It just feels so pointless sometimes”.

By the end of his small rant his face was almost entirely covered in red and pink splotches and his eyes began to water with unshed tears. Typically I was the person who always seemed to know what to say; friends and family often came to me with their issues because I was admittedly pretty good at talking people off the ledge and comforting them. But in this moment I felt my brain nearly shut down at Peter's broken expression. What could I, or anyone for that matter, say? Peter was right, his life wasn't fair. It hurt me deeply to think about what went on in his head everyday, all the responsibilities and pressure that was thrust upon him. I'd always been amazed at Peter's ability to remain so sweet and kind despite the things he's seen and been through, and his outburst today only confirmed just how difficult it was for him to maintain his demeanor with his new obligations. I sucked in a breath through my teeth and opened my arms to him once more in invitation. Peter willingly allowed himself to lay across my chest once more, arms encircling me tightly and head resting under the tip of my chin. 

"I've been circling around in my head all afternoon, trying to figure out why I even care what they think. I mean, I didn't become Spiderman for people to like me. I started because I thought people in this neighborhood deserved to feel safe. I do it to protect you, and May, and Ned, and Mr. Delmar, and anyone else that calls this place home. But even so, to hear them say those things so casually and out loud just…", he sniffed, and I began to rub his back slowly as I felt his tears begin to soak through the thin fabric of my t-shirt. 

"Hurts", I supplied quietly. Peter nodded against my chest and sniffled. I pressed my cheek to the crown of his head, leaving a soft kiss in my wake. I breathed in the comforting scent of his shampoo deeply before pulling back from his embrace and taking his face in my hands. I bored my own gaze into his puffy, reddened eyes and rubbed small circles over his still tense jawline. 

"Bug, there is nothing that I can say or do that'll make that pain go away, not completely, and for that I'm so sorry. But what I can tell you is how incredibly proud I am of you. Not just as Spiderman, I'm proud of you: Peter Benjamin Parker, because you are the sweetest, kindest, smartest, and most selfless person I have or will ever have met. You take so much on your shoulders everyday that I can't even begin to imagine, and you're right. Sometimes it does suck, and there will always be people like those assholes that make you feel like it's all for nothing, but they're wrong”, I began, voice already shaking with emotion and eyes filling with tears. Peter’s eyes darted downward, expression doubtful. Frowning, I placed my fingers under his chin, yanking his face back level with mine. 

“I’m serious Peter. You do so much for so many people, and I'm honestly amazed by you every single day. You know as well as I do that those people you've helped will never forget you, and that you matter to them. You matter to me, and to May, and to Ned, and MJ, and your teachers, and to Tony, and to everyone you meet because as soon as you open that cute little mouth of yours people can't help but love you. The fact that you even care about what they think is just a testament to how kind-hearted and genuine you are as a person”, I continued. 

Peter’s tears were still falling steadily, but the way his eyes remained focused on me and hands had steadied in my own lead me to throw in one last plea. 

“And, just for the record, if you ever decide one day that you don't want to be Spiderman anymore, I'll still be here. Because Spiderman may be this city's superhero, but you're my hero. I love you Peter, never ever forget that". 

I choked a little on the final word, hot tears that had gathered in my eyes early on in my little speech finally beginning to fall. Peter's eyes never left mine as I spoke, and though he had stopped crying there were still tear tracks visible, marring the soft skin of his cheeks. He didn't hesitate long after I finished speaking, placing his hands roughly on my hips and closing the small gap between our bodies with the speed only a superhuman could. His lips attached immediately to mine, moving with an urgency that took me by surprise. 

Generally speaking, Peter was exactly how he seemed: sweet, gentle, and a little bit timid-- especially when it came to intimate moments. I found it adorable how he was typically so gentle and tender with me, but the way he was kissing me now made my entire body feel as though it had caught fire. His mouth was pressed against mine so hard that it was almost painful, and his normally gentle fingers were squeezing my hips roughly. Somewhere beneath the Peter-induced fog that had completely taken over my brain, I briefly considered the fact that there would more than likely be bruises there later. Somehow, the thought only made the fire in my body burn hotter. I reciprocated with fervor, trying desperately to convey my sincerity and adoration for Peter through my touch. I moaned unintentionally into his mouth as his tongue roamed freely in mine, causing his lips to quirk into a smug smirk against my own. 

Eventually I reluctantly pulled away from the frenzied embrace, breathing heavy and forehead resting on Peter’s. Peter, however, was having none of this; he pulled gently away from my leaning head and began placing sweet kisses to my cheeks. I sat and caught my breath,  reveling in the feeling of my boyfriend’s soft lips against my skin. After a while, Peter slowed his loving assault and leaned back against the wall, pulling my body into his chest. I sighed, snuggling deeper into his side in a mirrored image of the way we’d laid only minutes before.

“I love you”, Peter mumbled, lips leaving yet another kiss to the top of my head. “Thank you”. 

“Anytime Pete. Literally, anytime”, I replied softly before placing a soft kiss to his collarbone. Peter chuckled, the feeling reverberating through our linked bodies. I raised my head to look him in the eyes, and quirked my own brow in silent question. 

“Nothing, it’s just..”, Peter started, chuckling once more. I furrowed my brow even more. 

"Only you would not only know a whole bunch of nerdy pickup lines, but use that strange collection of knowledge to cheer me up”, he finished, grinning wildly down towards me. I felt my face flush. 

“Oh shut up, you know you love it”, I grumbled. 

I felt his chest shake with yet another bout of laughter, and I responded by childishly shoving my head deeper into his chest with a small huff of embarrassment. Eventually the shaking slowed and stopped. Peter’s strong fingers hooked under my chin, forcing my head up to face his own. I began to protest, but the words died out in my throat when I saw the way Peter was looking down at me. At first, I noted with a twinge of pride how his cheeks were still pink and flushed looking and his lips red and swollen from our previous antics-- his hair was beautifully mussed (thanks to me), but it was the look in his eyes that truly made my heart flutter. When I’d first met up with him this afternoon his eyes had lost the sparkle they held now, his coffee brown irises were as dull as I’d ever seen and exuded his discomfort and sadness. Now, he was smiling so widely that he had crinkles on the edges of his eyes and his eyes held nothing but love and mischief. It was the spark of love and sweetness that screamed of Peter. 

“I do”, he stated softly. “I love you y/n/n. So much”.

 My heart fluttered, and I was overwhelmed with affection for the loveable dork. I lunged forward and captured Peter’s lips with my own once more; this kiss was different than the previous. This kiss was sweet, loving, and packed with emotion. Eventually, I pulled slowly back from Peter and rested my head on his shoulder once more.

“I love you too Bug. More than you know”, I murmured. Peter hummed in response, arms wrapping tighter around my form. 

“I do have one question though”, he mentioned nonchalantly. 

“What’s that?”, I replied. 

“Are you into chemistry?”, he wondered thoughtfully. I raised an eyebrow, head moving slightly to look questioningly at Peter. 

“Uh, I’m more of a physics girl I guess?”, I answered, confusion lacing my tone. “Why do you ask?”. 

“Because I LAB you”, he stated proudly, face splitting into a wide grin.

[angryhausfrau-writes]

I Travel Troubled Oceans: Chapter 10 - In Which Jack Hosts A Fashion Show

Jack is finally ready for his first runway show, after months of work and agonizing over every small detail and making sure he keeps up appearances as a flighty party boy with enough money that he doesn't need to have talent or ambition.

But he's honestly quite proud of how everything has turned out. He's tailored the runway fashions for the trendy, upscale gallery that's hosting the show, of course, so everything is very modern and very stark. There are a lot of geometric shapes, structured collars, plunging triangular necklines and sideslits, things like that. Lots of metallic black fabrics.

It's all very cyberpunk dystopia - but chic. Because the upper echelons of society will commodify and romanticize everything, including the surveillance state.

It does appear to be a successful strategy, however. Mary has been taking pictures of his work throughout the process. Pictures that are framed to hint, to tantalize, but not to actually reveal anything. And there's been significant hype building around the show. Some of the backstage photos from the runway rehearsal have even appeared in the society sections of various newspapers. Which nobody really reads anymore, but Jack's Instagram account has simultaneously blown up, so that's probably a better indication that he's on the right track with this designer nonsense.

And he's had no trouble filling seats at the show itself. Since it's all rich assholes in attendance, they'd never do anything so gauche as to charge admission, but there's an understanding that everyone who attends the event will provide a hefty (and tax deductible, after some creative accounting) donation to both the art gallery and Jack's little design company. And Kaylen has used her extensive network of snooty art acquaintances to make sure there are plenty of critics in the audience, which should help get his name out there in the fashion world so he can start broadening their field of influence.

So the last thing that remains to be done is to personally invite the Councilor to the show. Not only because Jack is trying to develop a deeper friendship with him (and thereby cement his influence over any and all planning decisions) but also because Max wants to form another sort of relationship with Councilor Featherstone. Ie. she wants one of her girls to start “dating” the esteemed Councilor and whispering sweet nothings about their competitors into his ear instead of pillow talk. Which is also why Jack's throwing an after party at his house where the invitees can mingle with the models, get to know them a little better.

Jack had initially been rather uncomfortable with this plan. Mostly because he doesn't like people in his house messing up his things. But also because this feels just slightly skeevy in a way he hasn't been before. He's a con and a killer and a dealer, but he's not a pimp.

But when he'd talked to the girls about this plan, they'd seemed surprised at his reservations. One girl - Jackie – had even asked if the Councilor was, quote, wicked and seemed disappointed when Jack told her he had the sexual charisma of a bowl of lukewarm oatmeal. And Jack supposes it's their job, so they know what they're getting themselves into.

So he finds himself at the office building downtown (a pricey piece of real estate if Jack's ever seen one) to personally extend the glossy black invitation to both fashion show and after party to Councilor Featherstone. Who apparently has not yet grasped e-vites as a concept. And anyway, it's the personal touch that leaves a lasting impression.

And Charles has elected to accompany Jack, for whatever reason. He seems familiar with desk security and the building layout at least. Which is, perhaps, suspicious. As are the wary glances Councilor Featherstone's second in command – a man who's doing much what Max wants them to do in terms of filtering exactly what proposals actually reach the Councilor's desk, although his criteria for acceptance is more in line with being rich and titled and not a dirty foreigner - keeps giving Charles through Featherstone's glass door.

Charles's self satisfied smirk is not particularly encouraging either.

But he'd rather have any potential adversaries cowed as apposed to actively antagonistic. And Counselor Featherstone is more than happy to receive an invitation to his good friend Jack's debut fashion show. With front row seats to ensure that he gets a good look at all the models as they parade past on the catwalk. And Max's second sitting next to him - because Featherstone doesn't seem like the sort to approach a woman of his own volition and they'll need some indication of who to throw at him later tonight.

Jack's stupid fashion show is giving Anne a bitch of a headache. He's running around backstage in a fucking tizzy, because someone's makeup isn't quite right or they're wearing the wrong style of jewelry or a dozen other fucking things. And Anne's supposed to be coordinating this mess – as if that's fucking possible.

At least she's good at glaring and rude hand gestures. That appears to be all that's required to get the DJs – some poor fucks Max has by the balls – to get their shit set up and now there's some pumping electronic shit going as all the rich fucks mingle and drink cocktails, waiting for the show to start.

Fortunately, Eme'd been the one to recommend the caterers and other than pointing towards the kitchen and telling them when the show starts, she hasn't had to deal with them. And Mary's running around taking pictures of all the models and dresses and shit but she spares Anne a quick smile whenever they cross paths. So it could be worse.

And then Anne's pressed into lining up all the models in order and cuing when they're supposed to go out, so she's too busy to hear Jack's little speech at the start of the show. But by the polite applause he gets, it's a pretty good one – always been silver tongued, Jack has, and that ain't changed any with this new venture.

And it turns out he's pretty good at the whole designer thing too, which had been a surprise. Anne doesn't think much of the outfits – completely impracticable and all ugly weird dresses - but all these posh idiots are eating this shit up, if you take into account the fact that rich people excitement is a lot less loud than normal people excitement. The after party is sure to loosen them up, at least.

Jack slumps against the wall, absolutely exhausted. The fashion show had gone well, with several of the critics and many of the various high society invitees coming up to congratulate him afterwards. He's the darling of the upper crust for a night.

And in order to cement that for the future, he's in the process of throwing the mother of all parties – champagne, blow, stupid finger foods with gold leaf on them. The sort of club music that keeps coked up partiers on the dancefloor all night. And it's all getting to be a bit much.

Anne and Mary have already disappeared upstairs to bed, and Jack dearly wishes he could join them. Or at least meander in their general direction – he doubts they want him in their bed. Particularly because they're probably not even attempting to sleep what with all the noise downstairs.

And Jack doesn't really feel like laying awake for hours in his empty bed while Anne and Mary fuck down the hall, even if he wasn't bound by his persona to stay until the party ended or the sun rose. And it's starting to look like sunup will be the earlier of the two conditions, so it's just as well he's a jobless layabout who can sleep all day tomorrow.

At least Counselor Featherstone looks to be having fun with Idelle, all tucked into a sort of quiet corner with her and staring shamelessly at her tits. Which are quite noticeable in the dress she's wearing, to be fair. But Jack doesn't particularly want to spend his night thinking about that either.

So he turns on his heel and weaves through the crowd until he's reached the French doors leading to the little patio out back. He needs a minute – just one minute – of quiet and calm. Just a minute to catch his breath before he heads back into the heaving throng.

He walks out to the edge of the lawn and lets out a long sigh, head tipped towards the heavens.

“Get sick of the party, Jack?”

Charles emerges from the dark, only the glowing cherry of his cigar lighting his face, making his eyes gleam in a way that would be terrifying if Jack didn't know him so well.

But he does know Charles, so he just turns toward him, slumps against him in exhaustion. “I'll admit, it's a little harder to make it through these things without enough blow to keep an entire 80's office building supplied.”

Charles grins. “Or you're just getting old.”

“And what does that say about you, Chaz?” Jack leans back to look him in the eye. “You're the one out here in the dark all by yourself. Maybe you're the one getting too old for this shit.”

Charles eyes the house and all the guests making a disgusting mess all over Jack's fancy furniture. It's unbelievable, and he's spent his whole life, minus the last few months, living on the streets or in derelict drug dens.

“Don't know that I was ever young enough for this particular shit. Want to pretend to be desperate for a fuck and go hide upstairs?”

Jack considers it for a long moment, torn between responsibility to Max and his desire to escape the party. But fear of Max wins out – she can make is life awfully difficult. And that's without Anne giving him unimpressed looks on her behalf.

“Want to pretend to make out on the dancefloor instead?”

Charles grins. “Ok, but don't get pissy at me for grabbing your ass.” And he proceeds to steer Jack into the house and out into the middle of the dancefloor by doing just that, to the cheers and wolf whistles of everyone close enough to understand what he's doing.

Which is a fair number, because Charles is not exactly known for being subtle. And then he sticks his tongue down Jack's throat.

“I hope you know this means I'm spending tomorrow braiding your hair in retaliation,” Jack growls at him, when he's finally let up for air. “And I will give you pigtails.”

Charles just laughs, so apparently it's not a enough of a threat. Jack will find something truly menacing at some point. He swears.

[petitprincess1]

Mad Love

Summary: A commercial for BH Org. ends up getting disrupted, or maybe even improved, by Clemencia, as she shares her tips on dealing with the most plaguing and revolting force on this planet: Love.

Words: 1,330

Warnings: You may bleed out your eyes from pure insanity and dark humor-ish. This was a lot of fun to make.

AO3 LINK

Narrator: Greetings, you boorish bottom feeders! Have any of you experienced the oh-so abominable and weak feeling known as “love”? Even worse, have you had this feeling for your enemy? Whether it be completely romantic or just a wayward crush, you’ve most likely felt your heart beat right out of your ribcage when facing your opponent, causing you to lose more than usual (*fast* unless-you-are-using-the-products-created-by-the-Black-Hat-Organization). Do you wish for this devilish and barbaric feeling to disappear or even how to use it for evil? Fear not, you disgusting disappointments, once again, the Black Hat Organization has the cure for you! Who better to turn your overbearing sappiness to an obsessive, dark romance in the most effective way possible than by the lascivious lizard herself! Everyone put your hands together for the savage saurian, the rocking reptile, the caustic chameleon, Demenci-AAH!

The screen shows Demencia’s bedroom and on top of her bed is a large, fluffy, lump of blue, a bit of white, and some hot pink that was slowly moving up and down.

Narrator: Eugh! What is that? Is it alive? Quick! Call the Hatbots and get that vile thing exterminated imm-

Before he could finish, the lump of blue moved as a face, limbs, and a body showed itself as it stretched out from underneath, revealing a girl who was wearing a unicorn hoodie. She yawned as her arms wrapped around one Demencia’s pillows and she pushed her face into it. Then came the sound of heavy breathing.

Narrator: Cl-Clemencia! What the hell are you doing here and in Demencia's room!?

Clemencia lifted her face from Demencia's pillows with a drunken look on her face and then giggled at the Narrator, "The window was wide open, of course! I think anyone can agree that if someone left their window, door, or secret entrance open, then that perfectly allows any stranger to come in, right!?"

She blinked cutely at him with wide eyes, but it was such slow blinks that it made him uncomfortable.

Narrator: ...W-Well, either way, I need to alert Lord Black H-

"Oh no. You can't do that~ That wouldn't be fair to the wife and kids, don't you think?"

Narrator: Oh, please, what an empty threat You don't know where my family lives! Hahahaha-

As the narrator laughed, Clem's head slowly tilted to the side at a weird, horrifying angle, even making bones snap in her neck, as her grin grew wider.

Narrator: Eh, heh...you d-don't...do you?

Clem just winked at him and smiled, "Read the script, please~"

Narrator: Eh...wh-what? S-Script? But I- Oh, what is this? A rewrite? Oh, uh, th-thank you, um...ahem! As I was saying so obviously before, who better to turn your overbearing sappiness to an obsessive, dark romance in the most effective way possible than by, eh, Demencia’s number one fan herself! Everyone put your hands together for the pastel punk, the cuddly killer, the cute cutthroat, oh boy, Clemencia!

Clemencia was now lying seductively on the bed with her hand slowly moving up her leg as she greeted, “Bienvenidos, ovejas sin espinas, Clemencia aquí para enseñarles a los idiotas cómo enamorarse de verdad~”

Narrator: No! No! English channel! English!

Clemencia blinked at him and then giggled, “Oh, right! Heehee~ Sorry!”

She then sat up, as she pulled out a Demencia plushie that was ripped to shreds and was missing a leg. She hugged it tightly and the repeated, “Welcome, you spineless sheep, Clemencia here to teach you idiots on how to truly fall in love! And what better format to teach you with thaaaaannnn,” she took out a bunch of crayons, glitter markers, papers, and a bucket that looked like it could be filled with red paint, “CLEMENCIA TI-”

Narrator: Clemencia, this isn’t a normal ten minute video! We are running out of time and you need to make your point very quickly or you’ll just get cu-

Clemencia made some random noise as he was talking, “hnnnnnnNNNNNNG CLEMENCIATIPS!!!!!”

A bunch of childishly made drawings somehow appeared, as well as a simply drawn Clemencia. The unicorn girl spoke, showing images of Dark Phantom’s heart being stepped on by Vanity, while he’s also getting punched, “So, you want to know how to capture the interest of your lover and make them fall to as your prey, huh? Well, the best way to do that iiiiisssss~ through getting to know them! And there’s no better way to figure out your darling enemy then through tracking their every move~”

She drew several images of her stalking Demencia by hiding in bushes, looking at her through windows, and tapping herself to Dem’s ceiling at night to watch her sleep. Clemencia then suggested, “That is, unless your opponent has amazing detection skills like my magnificent love, Demencia,” next image was of her pretending to be Demencia’s mirror by standing right in front of her, while Dem was wielding an axe, even though she looks nothing like her and doesn’t even bother changing her clothes. She went on, “If that comes to pass, then you can always leave a gift for them! Nothing says “I love you” more than a mysterious package showing up randomly with no label on it whatsoever.”

It was an image of the hero, Angel, looking down at a box with many question marks around her head. She then slowly opened the box and peeked inside, while Clem added, “You can fill the package with whatever you want, but make sure that it’s memorable. So, that way, they’ll be thinking of you no matter what,” the next image was quick cut to Angel sitting in a corner and rocking back-and-forth, tearing her hair out.

Clemencia then listed, “Other things that you can do are dates,” drawings of Bonnivet eating with a spaced-themed hero, who was tied up in a chair and gagged, “star gazing,” Flug sending a nature powered hero into space, “karaoke,” 505 and WH Hatbot singing karaoke like best buds, “or if things turn sour and the hero dumps you or, even worse, you dump the hero, you can always just give them a nice, big hug!”

An image of Clemencia hugging Metauro appeared, while everything around them bright and glowy and they were so happy. ...Then there was an image of a house burning in the background, while Clem held him tighter in the drawing, “TO HOLD THEM BACK WHILE YOU BURN DOWN EVERYTHING THAT THEY LOVED!!!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!!”

The images slowly burnt away to maniacally laughing Clemencia as everything around her seemed to go up in flames, making her seem truly sadistic as the pink fire licked at her skin and didn't seem to do any damage. Then everything went back to normal as she calmly finished, “However, if you follow my steps, then you should be able to follow everything as simply as pulling someone’s intestines out from their noses!”

Narrator: Eeeeehhhh...is that even possible?

Clemencia grinned wickedly, “Yes, yes it is! Let me show you!”

Narrator: NO NO NO N-

Suddenly, his screaming got interrupted by something breaking down off-screen as Demencia’s voice popped, “What the hell are you doing in here, you walking diabetic shock!”

Clemencia’s eyes turned into hearts as she giggled deliriously, squeezing the doll so tightly that the head popped right off. Her eyes then turned back to normal as the sound heavy, mechanical footfalls came in and she went back to the camera, concluding, “If you follow these easy steps, then you’re sure to have your love slobbering at your dingy, dollar store shoes in no time! I better get going~ I know I’ll be seeing all you lovelies….very soon~” She then giggled crazily at her threat as she disappeared right as soon as an axe came flying towards her, getting embedded into the wall.

Narrator: Ugh...I hate my j-

Demencia: You...You let her in my room, you dumbfuck!

Narrator: N-NO!!! I WOULD NEVER DO SUCH A THING!!!! PLEASE, DON- AAAAAAAA-

The only sound that was heard before the camera cut off was the sound of a chainsaw revving.

[not-just-any-fangirl]

Flirting With Disaster

A/N: Happy Birthday to @constellunaa! I saw your beautiful drawing of Laxus and Cobra and thought ‘hey what if she actually ships it?’ and then wrote 6.5K of it in hopes that you actually do lmao.

If not, have some hint of nalu bcus I am so sorry

Part of my deaf!Natsu college au bcus I’m a slut for continuing universes! Also shout out to @papalogia for putting up with me yelling about this and for helping with some of the words. Natsu and Cobra are cousins, with Indian!Igneel and his unnamed brother who is Cobra’s dad. 

Also praise @rivendell101 for helping me title it! Apparently I’m useless without my friends :D

College!AU

Pairing: Cobraxus, Nalu, Fairy tail

Words: 6515

Rating: M for language

Part: Oneshot

Laxus wanted to die, and not just because of his pounding headache or the fact that he was in an eight AM lab for fucking chemistry of all things. No, Laxus wanted the sweet embrace of death -or maybe to plead for manslaughter on account of insanity- because of his benchmate.

“Could you please make your stomach make disgusting noises quieter? I’m trying to measure out our chemicals, considering you’re going to be useless today.”

Laxus narrowed his eyes at his labmate, thinking of other uses for the sodium hydroxide solution that was being poured from the erlenmeyer flask to a petri dish.

“Stop looking at me like it’s my fault you decided to do jagerbombs instead of sleeping like a normal human being with an eight AM.”

Laxus scowled. The dude wasn’t even able to see his face, eye on Laxus’ side closed from a nasty looking scar. Laxus felt his own scar over his right eye twinge in sympathy, line thinner than the other boy’s. “How’d you know what I was drinking?” he asked, tongue fuzzy and thick in his mouth and voice rough with disuse. He sounded like his dad, and Laxus wished for another double jager to push back that unwelcome comparison.

“Because you reek of licorice, red bull, and regret.”

Laxus snorted, grinning as he scrawled down the fourth trial’s measurement in his lab notes. “I showered.”

“Don’t feel bad,” the boy drawled, sealing the vacuum box the petri dish now resided in before they turned on the chlorine gas, “it’s a stench that permeates engineering students.”

Laxus frowned, wanting to bite back against the generalization of his major, but flashbacks to the group of twenty somethings doing keg stands and flip cup after their last electrical midterm stopped him. His labmate wasn’t exactly wrong.

But his class had fucking earned going a little wild, especially after the hell that was the four hour midterm of Jose’s quantum nuclear midterm. Laxus was pretty sure that time length wasn’t even allowed by the school board, but seeing as how his grandfather was at a bit of a cold war with the dean, Laxus wasn’t about to say shit.

“Well I’m sure you biology kids know all about the danger of popping illegal prescription pills, don’t you?” he snarked. He had yet to meet one that wasn’t permanently shaking from a near overdose of Adderall, struggling to stay awake to finish making their four hundredth flash card.

“I'm not a biology major,” he said flicking on the highly poisonous gas with the most uncaring expression Laxus has seen on something besides his mirror.

Laxus eyed him critically. “Only biology majors are actually interested in chemistry labs,” he said finally, watching the plastic cube in front of him as the gas reacted with the solution.

“What about chem students?” he asked flatly, switching off the gas lever after the thirty seconds had passed on the stopwatch.

“Those freaks can do this shit in their sleep and try to go and set shit on fire under the fume hoods.” Laxus said just as flatly as his lab partner, focusing on writing down the chemical equations involved in their experiment. “If you aren’t biology then why the hell are you in this lab then?” Laxus asked. He knew why he was there, stupid requirement for his degree saying he need at least a 200 level in each of physics, chem, and bio. Not that Laxus fucking understood why he needed to know how bases and ions reacted to make deadly gases, considering he was going to be an electrical engineer.

Fucking reqs.

The student gave a long suffering sigh, turning his face so Laxus could see his withering look, red-so-dark-it-was-almost-brown hair falling in his face and styled on the sides and back, chin and cheekbones sharp. HIs tan skin was smooth, Laxus fairly certain it was because he could only make two facial expression: blank apathy or an unimpressed sneer. “I’m a toxicology major,” he said, opting for the latter of his whole range of two emotions.

“What the shit is that?” Laxus asked, barking out a laugh before writing the final time when salt crystals stopped forming in their solution.

“It is what it sounds like it would be,” the darker hair boy hissed, opening the cube and retrieving the crystallized solution so they could separate the salt and the bleach.

“It sounds fake,” Laxus snorted, adding a fourth row in the weight of the crystals and the PH of the solution. He must still be drunk to be egging on someone he didn't know, but Laxus really didn't give all that much of a fuck.

“And you still sound drunk,” the boy said coolly. He held out the filtered vial of lab-made bleach. “Here, drink this and it'll disinfect your stomach.”

Laxus blinked at the clear liquid behind the glass before barking a short laugh. “Alright, what's your name for the report.” Lab or human resources to be determined by if his bench mate slipped the chemical into his coffee thermos.

“Cobra,” the boy said, grin sharp in victory at Laxus’ startled expression. “It's similar to my major, don't you think?”

“Still don't know what the fuck toxicology is,” Laxus shrugged, recovering quickly. His cousin’s boyfriend’s name was Natsu and one of her best friend’s Gajeel. At least Cobra was a thing that existed and not a fucking season.

Laxus wrote down the name, frowning at the spot ‘ Freed ’ usually went. His best friend -and ex-boyfriend- unusually absent. Laxus had found out when he sat down from a text from Ever that he was delirious with a fever and needed to be restrained so he couldn't spread it to the rest of the university in his attempt to not miss class. Hence how a late Laxus had ended up with the possible-psychopath as a lab partner.

“It's the study of toxins and poisons you dumbass,” Cobra said flatly. He huffed in irritation before prattling off the volume of the fifth sample of sodium hydroxide. “How did you even pass Biology Two-hundred if you couldn't put together ‘tox-’ and ‘-cology’?”

“By studying for twelve hours and then forgetting everything about that bullshit course.” Laxus said back, defensive. He'd worked hard for that A in the course, and was proud of it.

“Only idiots forget what they've learned,” Cobra hummed, face once more a mix of cocky and blank. How he managed to look bored and superior at the same time was starting to grate on Laxus’ last nerve, though he knew he was one more incident away from academic suspension.

Laxus could really use that shot right now.

At least this was the last trial they needed before he could fuck off and never worry about dealing with Cobra again.

Laxus looked over, taking in an appreciative view. Laxus may be stoic and rough around the edges but he wasn't blind. Cobra was hot , with rich brown skin and spiky hair and two bars in his right ear. His personality might have been garbage, but that'd never stopped Laxus from being able to appreciate someone's aesthetic.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer,” Cobra said, corner of his mouth twitching at his own joke. Laxus remained unfazed, expecting to be caught and uncaring.

“How'd you get your scar?”

“How'd you get yours?” Cobra sneered, flicking on the gas switch and recording the pressure and flow rate of the gas as shown on the display connected to the nozzle.

“Fair,” Laxus hummed. “What's your number?”

“What the fuck? ” Cobra spat, eye large as he whipped his head to look at Laxus. He thought the boy's cheeks might have been a little darker, but he couldn't really tell. The thought made him preen in victory though, that he had gotten the upper hand.

“For the lab report? In case our data doesn't line up?”

Cobra grunted, looking back at the chamber as the reaction took place. “Whatever.”

Laxus blinked when at the end of the lab there was a torn off corner of paper shoved in his notebook, ten digits scrawled across it in sharp handwriting. He shook his head with a rueful smile, typing in the numbers to his contacts under the name ‘Snake Boi’.

Why was everyone he interacted with so fucking weird.

Laxus woke up, sitting straight up in his small single bed that came with his dorm room, staring unseeing into the dark.

“I fucking hit on him.” Laxus whispered to himself.

And Cobra gave him his number .

He jerked the cord from his phone where it had been charging on his bed side table, barely registering the time of 3:47 fucking AM as he blinds himself with the full brightness. Cursing, Laxus adjusted the screen to barely painful before typing a message to Freed. Laxus was smart with books, but interactions with other human beings was a thing Laxus liked to avoid at the best of times. And now he was texting his ex about the possibility of him hitting on some random dude. And succeeding.

Me - 3:47 AM: So uh I asked a guy for his number for a lab cus you have the fucking plague and looking back i think i flirted with him and i think i hit on him and now i have his number uhhhh what the actual fuck is this?? Was I actually hitting on him?? Did he hit back??

Me - 3:48 AM: is hit back the right term?

Me - 3:48 AM: I don’t think it is but I’m going to use it anyway bc fuck english

Laxus flopped back on his pillow, rubbing his scar. Fucking emotions. Did Laxus even want to have been hitting on Cobra? He thought about his fuller bottom lip and the twinkle of mischief in his eye when he was telling Laxus to drink bleach and the way his cologne smelt like the riverside and musk and his stupidly spiky hair that Laxus wanted to fuck up just to see that small fire light his dark eye.

Ah fuck, Laxus wanted to hit on him.

His phone buzzed in his hand, and Laxus blinked in surprise at Freed still being awake. Or maybe he had woken him up. Either way, Laxus wasn’t about to complain about getting some damned advice.

Freed (Sword Emoji) - 3:50 AM: Yes, babe. You were hitting on him. It’s okay, it took you four dates to realize we were dating.

Freed (Sword Emoji) - 3:51 AM: Two weeks to realize we broke up.

Me - 3:52 AM: I’m beginning to realize why you wanted couples therapy

Freed (Sword Emoji) - 3:55 AM: It’s okay babe, I still love you. Now go get laid please, you’re insufferable when horny and have a crush.

Laxus snorted. He wasn’t insufferable , if anyone was insufferable in their group it was Ever and at all times. Insufferable. Ha.

Wait.

Did Freed mean right now? Wouldn’t that be uncouth, as Freed would put it? Did he want a booty call? Or did Laxus want more? Laxus didn’t know what the fuck he wanted to eat most of the time how in all holy hell was he supposed to work out stupid things like feelings .

Ugh.

Me - 4:00 AM: Like... now? Cause its 4 am and idk if hes up. I mean, hes a fucking chem/posion/fuck knows major so probs but wouldn’t it be rude? To start a date with a booty call? I feel like asking for sex this early would be rude

Me - 4:00 AM: both time of day and in regards to a possible relationship

Laxus stared up at his ceiling, eyes barely able to make out the rock poster above his head from the brightness of staring at his phone screen. Him and Bixlow were supposed to be going to the Thunder Claps next saturday and Laxus was looking forward to getting stoned and zoning out to some good rock EDM for a couple hours with one of his best friends so-fucking-much. He startled out of his thoughts at the dark phone buzzing on his chest, screen lighting up with Freed’s text.

Freed (Sword Emoji) - 4:05 AM: I love you, but how you manage to keep your stupidity secret from everyone we know I’ll never comprehend.

Freed (Sword Emoji) - 4:06 AM: No do not text him for a booty call at four am.

Freed (Sword Emoji) - 4:06 AM: You animal.

Me - 4:09 AM: Ohhh, like later today okay i get you

Laxus rolls over, groaning into his pillow. He turned his head, typing another message.

Me - 4:13 AM: Can’t we just date again that was a good thing

Freed (Sword Emoji) - 4:07 AM: No darling. We tried that before and while the sex was amazing you were frankly a horrible boyfriend. But you have grown and I have full confidence in you not fucking this new one up horribly.

Laxus grinned at his phone, rolling his eyes before typing out a quick ‘gee thanks’ and clicking off his phone.

Ah fuck what the shit was he going to say to Cobra?

Laxus adjusted the strap on his shoulder as he exited the math building, three stories tall and made entirely of brick that was probably twenty years old when it was built fifty years ago. He groaned as he rubbed his neck, thankful that he was finally done his last class of the day. How Natsu had gotten into his fourth year electrical physics course Laxus had absolutely no fucking clue, and how that fuckhead had gotten a better grade than him on the last assignment was even more astounding.

Thinking of annoying chemistry majors, Laxus’s pocket burned where his phone rested and the uncontacted number that Laxus felt judging him. He could actually hear Cobra’s snarky voice calling him a pussy in his head, scowling as he continued to walk along the cracked sidewalk.

“Angel I swear to every fucking god in existence if you tell anyone -”

Oh shit, Laxus was really hearing Cobra’s voice.

He looked up, spotting Cobra standing beside a bust of some old dead dude that had helped found math or whatever, a pretty woman with long silver hair pinching his cheek with an almost cruel smile. “That our little snakey has a crush ?” she sang. Cobra’s shoulders tensed, and Laxus leaned against the bust five feet away, curious to see where the fuck this was going to go.

“I talked to the bastard once ,” Cobra snapped, swatting away Angel’s hand. The girl smirked as if Cobra had just told a joke, twirling a piece of hair between her fingers.

“Uh huh, and that’s why you’ve kept your hand on your phone all day. ‘Cus you two ‘talked’ once.” Cobra sputtered, Laxus watching the side of his face twist in a flustered sneer. “Tell me, was he tall and muscular? You always were too easy for the masc types.”

Laxus snorted, covering it with a cough but too late not to draw Angel’s attention, and by extension, Cobra’s. The girl’s face lit up like it was fucking Christmas and Cobra looked like he wished he still had that bleach.

“Awwww you two match face scars!” she cooed, clapping her hands together once in excitement.

“You say another word and I’ll put Kerberos in your fucking bed.”

Angel pouted at Cobra before huffing and flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Whatever, spoil my fun as usual, Erik ,” Cobra -or should Laxus say Erik?- glared at her sharply but Angel carried on, paying his threat display absolutely no attention, “I’m off to make sure Midnight didn’t die in their sleep in whatever nook they’ve found now.”

Laxus returned her small nod as she passed, lifting an eyebrow at her sniff as she looked him over again. He thought it might have been a silent ‘my friend could do better than you’ and judging by the RBF she had Laxus was pretty sure he was right.

Cobra was silent as he glared at Laxus, a new expression painted on his face; pure and clear murder.

“I don’t know what fucking game you’re playing but I’m over it and-”

Laxus interrupted the rant Cobra was spitting at him, looking over his worn but polished combat boots and torn black jeans that were tight enough on his thighs to leave Laxus with no need to imagine how muscular he was, tight black tank top with a deep purple snake skull partially covered by leather jacket that had deep red accented strips of leather along the arms and two over the breasts, dark black studs on the shoulders and back of the arms from what Laxus could see, band patches thrown over the pockets and back as a visual record of all his concerts. Laxus finally eyed the thick black collar with large and shallow spikes on it before meeting Cobra’s pissed-off glare.

“I’m going to the Thunder Claps concert next weekend. Judging by the Poison Blood sticker you got on your ass there I’d say you’re in need of being taken to a concert with good music playing.”

Cobra choked on his words, staring at Laxus blankly before barking a sharp laugh. He drew his pointed gaze over Laxus’s own slides, ripped jeans, loose work out tank, and the large bright yellow headphones that hung around his neck.

“I highly doubt you’d be able to have any taste in music if you insist on dressing like a fucking gym rat, but I won’t turn down free shots and concert tickets,” Cobra smirked at him, grin sharp as he insulted him. Laxus grinned back. Flirting was fun when you got to rip into the person.

“Who said I’d pay for your drinks?”

“The way you can’t take your perverted eyes off me would be a damned good hint that all I have to do is touch your dick and have you wrapped around my little finger.”

“Aw, that’s not a very nice thing to call your dick. I’m sure it’s at least three inches.”

Cobra sneered at him, stepping closer as fire danced in his eye, obviously delighted at the challenge. “Two inches longer than yours.”

“You wanna find out or something? Laxus asked, tipping his head down as he towered over Cobra by a good four inches, stepping forward as well.

“You that desperate to get fucked?” he asked, meeting Laxus’ gaze and holding his own, unperturbed by Laxus’ height.

“ You that desperate to get your face pinned against a wall?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Cobra smirked, thumbs hooked in his belt loops and leaning further into Laxus’ space, looking up at him through thick lashes and a promise of danger and battle of wills in his dark gaze.

“Yeah, I think I fucking would,” Laxus said, unashamed. His smirk widened when Cobra’s faltered and his cheeks got distinctly darker as he blinked up at Laxus, the blond man’s confidence sure enough at this point that he hooked his pointer through one of Cobra’s unfilled belt hoops and pulled his crotch closer so that it brushed against Laxus’. “Wha'dya say, Erik?” Laxus breathed against the shorter man’s lips, noses almost touching.

“Call me that again and I’ll strangle you in your sleep, shithead,” Cobra hissed, not pulling away from him as his eye darted to Laxus’ lips and then back up. Laxus swallowed roughly at the challenge that sparked in his sharp grin as he reached up with both hands and yanked on Laxus’ headphones so that their foreheads touched. “Now why don’t you show me your tiny ass dorm. I ain’t getting my sheets fucked up for a douchebag like you.”

“Ain’t you full of romance?” Laxus snorted, brushing his nose against Cobra’s and barely speaking above a whisper.

“One of us is about to be full of something and I was never big on the flowers and chocolates crap.” Cobra said back, chin tilting up slightly to brush his top lip against Laxus’ lower one.

“Good to know,” Laxus grinned, pulling back before he could actually kiss Cobra. He readjusted the strap on his shoulder again, nodding with his head in the direction of his dorm.

Cobra looked at him like he was a lab report that wasn’t making sense - a thing that Laxus interpreted as baffled and irritated and determined to understand- before nodding and walking towards where Laxus had nodded.They walked in silence, Laxus’ hand twitching each time he almost grazed Cobra’s. It felt wrong to just walk apart considering what they had planned, or at least insinuated, but Laxus had zero fucking clue how to make the first move. Especially because Cobra apparently wasn’t into that. The minutes passed awkwardly as Laxus considered just fucking texting Freed about what to do but also not thinking that texting his ex-boyfriend would be good hook up etiquette. Was this a hook up? Was this all that was? Cobra had said yes -kind of- to the concert and oh fuck Laxus had asked him out on a date without realizing it-

And Cobra said yes again.

They were halfway to his dorm, just passing the English building his cousin Lucy was probably still in working on her seventh draft of her creative writing piece, and her stupid boyfriend probably draped over her like a god damn blanket -how was that for romantic, as if Cobra would ever let Laxus do that to him- when Cobra moved and startled Laxus from his thoughts.

“You’re useless at shit like this aren’t you?” Cobra sighed. He kept looking ahead as he grabbed Laxus’ arm and slung it over his own shoulders. “I could basically hear you thinking about holding my hand. Better?”

Laxus swallowed thickly, grunting an affirmative as his face heated at being caught. He glared at a flock of geese under a tree to their right, channeling his anger into the birds resting in the shade on the warm fall afternoon.

What the fuck had Laxus’ gotten himself into?

“What do you mean you haven’t kissed besides when you fuck ?” Lucy gaped at him, dumbfounded as she gathered her own nine dollar strawberry cooler and Natsu’s four dollar beer, Laxus both thankful and irritated that he had run into his cousin and her dumbass boyfriend at the concert. Bixlow hadn’t been the happiest to give up his ticket, but had been placated by Freed reading aloud first Laxus’ panicked four AM text messages and then his even more panicked nine PM text messages about having just gotten laid before going on an actual date.

Fuck, all of his friends were massive dicks. No wonder he was dating Cobra.

Well, kind of dating Cobra.

“Listen I don’t need to be lectured about relationships by someone who brought their deaf   boyfriend to a fucking concert.” Laxus frowned, careful of the shitty vender beer cups so that he wouldn’t crush them by accident in his annoyance.

“One,” Lucy huffed, half running to keep up with him through the crowd, “ Natsu dragged me here. He likes to be part of the chaos of the crowd and to feel the bass bump through him or whatever. And two, we are still on the topic of you and your inability to have a relationship like a normal human being.”

Laxus rolled his eyes as they walked to where Natsu and Cobra were standing by one of the entrances into the stadium, hands moving quickly and in agitation as they signed to one another.

Laxus couldn’t fucking believe that Lucy was dating his maybe-boyfriend’s cousin.

“You fucking dick, you know I can’t understand ISL!” Natsu roared, throwing his hands above his head, voice loud enough to draw passing glances from a few people entering the large arena.

“Not my fault you don’t know your own heritage,” Cobra sneered, following it with something that Laxus could extrapolate was an insult by the sneer of his lips despite not understanding the other language. “ Ullu de pathe.”

“I can read Hindi on lips,” Natsu hissed. Lucy smiled as she moved the beer in front of his face, Natsu blinking at the sudden liquid blocking his view of Cobra. He smiled down at her, lip ring shifting as it was pulled. Lucy signed a quick hello, her hand flat as she did something that Laxus thought looked like a short and relaxed salute, quickly dropping her hand with her pointer and middle finger intended in a weird peace sign and flicking her lower lip with her middle finger twice.

Natsu grinned and rolled his eyes, Laxus lost at what the gesture meant. He had managed to learn a few swears and the alphabet, but otherwise relied on Natsu’s ability to read lips and speak when interacting with him. He’d offered to take better notes for Natsu in their class, but the stubborn bastard had refused and instead relied on a voice to text app on his phone as he took his own notes from the board.

Cobra signed something, the only sign Laxus caught making him grin at the end; Cobra flicking his hand from under his chin and out with his palm facing towards himself.

“I ain’t a bitch you fucking emo furry.” Natsu spat.

“Just because I respect and collect snakes doesn’t mean I want to fuck them,” Cobra snarled, “and at least I’m passionate about animals that actually exist, dragon boy .” Cobra held his hand so his fingers were splayed, wiggling the three middle fingers as he moved it from his chin outwards, palm facing down this time. “I don’t even know how we’re related, even your fucking hair is off brand! What kinda genetic fuck-up gets pink hair?”

“I like his hair,” Lucy defended. Laxus groaned loudly, throwing his arm around Cobra’s shoulders.

“We're gonna go somewhere else now,” Laxus said to Lucy, nodding at Natsu as he led Cobra away from his own cousin. They moved through the crowd, Cobra fitting nicely under Laxus’ arm as they walked. They entered the stadium, filing their way to the ground level where they would be standing for the show, Laxus letting Cobra stew as he learned the other man liked to do.

“That useless little jackass follows me everywhere,” Cobra hissed. Laxus looked at him from the corner of his eye, debating if he wanted to get into family dynamics right now. Considering how Natsu was more likely to become family than Cobra though...

Laxus swore internally before speaking against his better judgement.

“Technically they decided to come here before you,” Laxus said, not looking at Cobra. He felt him stiffen under his arm, but didn’t pull away.

“Whatever,” Cobra spat, taking a long sip of his beer. Laxus grunted, content with listening to the crowd around them mill between one of the opening acts and Thunder Claps. Two girls were standing by them, talking loudly with flower crowns in their hair and neon bras under white netted tops, one tucked into her short jean shorts and the other hanging down to her mid thigh and touching the top of her thin stockings, her own shorts barely visible under the netted fabric.

Laxus didn’t think he’d have noticed if it weren’t for Cobra tensing again under his arm and leading them away from the girls.

“I know you’re a big fan of my dick but I didn’t peg ya as needing to avoid an entire gender.” Laxus commented, taking a sip of his own drink as he waited for Cobra to speak.

“Their voices were irritating me,” Cobra said flatly, lips turned down slightly in his neutral expression. Normally when Laxus wore that look as his own neutral expression people said he looked liked he was plotting murder, when in reality he just thinking of dumb shit. Laxus was pretty sure Cobra was definitely plotting to murder someone, though. Laxus thought there might have been more to it than what Cobra was telling him but decided to drop it. Freed had been very adamant about not pissing off his date when at a social event.

Cobra took out his phone as Laxus glared at a boy that was staring a little too intently at Cobra’s biceps, revealed by his ripped sleeve tank top. The boy scurried off as Cobra slipped his phone back into the back pocket of his tight jeans. Jeans that Laxus knew for a fact Cobra was wearing because he was aware how tight they were on his ass and Laxus’ appreciation of it.

“Natsu and Lucy will down here in a second and if you say anything about it I will bite your dick off tonight.”

Laxus blinked once before nodding. He pulled Cobra closer to him when the other man downed his drink in a way that the other engineering students would cheer on, and made Laxus respect him just a little bit more.

Natsu and Lucy appeared again like Cobra said, Natsu sending a wary glance at Cobra before smiling brightly. Laxus huffed and sipped his beer as he scanned the crowd again. Natsu didn’t have a fucking single grudge-holding bone in his body when it came to abuse against himself. Laxus also wondered how the pink-haired pyro freak and Cobra were related, though for different reasons.

Laxus noticed Lucy lean towards him and Cobra, Natsu’s attention on the stage as the stagehands brought out the equipment and instruments for Thunder Claps. “If you do anything to ruin this concert for Natsu I will find out where you live and do something so horrible and scarring you’ll never be able to sleep again.” Lucy said sweetly, not bothering to lower her voice as the back of her head was to Natsu. She smiled once, lips pulled up sharply and eyes cold enough to make Laxus’ heart skip a beat like the time he thought he had missed a final. He took another sip of his drink, already half done but choosing to pretend he hadn’t just witnessed his cousin promising to maim another student in a huge crowd. His one law course taught him nothing if not plausible deniability.

He snuck a glance at Cobra’s face, somehow surprised and not at the bright grin pulling up one corner of his mouth.

“I like her.” Cobra said, looking around the crowd as well. Laxus shook his head, offering the rest of his beer to Cobra. “Well isn’t someone trying to get me drunk.”

“You’re much easier to top when you’re already a little fucked up,” Laxus grinned down at him. Cobra snorted, drinking Laxus’ beer and twisting his lips into a sneer, retort lost in his disgust.

“Thought an alcoholic like you would at least know how to drink good beer,” Cobra drawled.

“If you don’t like it I’ll definitely be needing it to deal with you all night,” Laxus said, raising an eyebrow at Cobra. He rolled his eye, taking another large sip with a grimace.

“I’m a fucking delight.”

Laxus snorted loudly, grinning at Cobra’s flat glare.

The crowd began cheering as people in ripped jeans and wearing over a dozen glow stick pieces of jewelry began filing onto the stage, the lights dimming and the crowd enveloping them so there was no place that Laxus wasn’t being touched by slightly sweaty and glitter covered bodies. Cobra glared, hiding deeper under Laxus’ arm and away from the chance of anything too sparkly and happy touching him. “Why’d you agree if concerts ain’t your thing?” Laxus purred, leaning down so his lips brushed his ear.

“I like concerts ,” Cobra hissed back, turning his head so his lips almost brushed Laxus’, “I don’t like raves.”

“This isn’t even close to rave. I’d be on way more drugs if this was a rave ,” Laxus murmured back, distracted by Lucy’s lecture in the back of his head about normal relationships. Heat from where Cobra was pressed against his side and under his arm scorched him, Laxus’ brain focusing on Cobra’s lips and how the top one was thinner than the bottom, a slight dimple under the left corner of his lip where a lip piercing might have once been. Laxus’ throat grew dry at the thought of seeing the silver against his warm-toned skin.

Laxus lifted his gaze to meet Cobra’s, a dark, unreadable expression piercing him.

“Maybe you just wanted to be here with me,” he said, leaning forward slightly so his nose brushed Cobra’s. A slight grin lifted the corner of Cobra’s mouth, a mocking glint flashing in his eye that made Laxus smirk in turn. Whatever Cobra was about to say was lost as the DJ of the band made the bass drop and the crowd went wild, jumping and thrumming around them. Cobra got jostled, shoving him towards Laxus, his forehead pressing into his lips. Laxus glared at the clearly drunk girl who had shoved Cobra and ruined whatever the fuck Laxus had been trying to do.

Laxus grinned when he heard Cobra swear under his breath, pleased that he wasn’t happy about it either. Deciding that a EDM concert probably wasn’t the best place to figure out what the shit was going on between them, Laxus turned his attention to the stage and lost himself in the performance. He sang along with the next few songs, moving with the crowd, bouncing on the balls of his feet and losing himself to the pounding that resonated with his bones and overrode his own heartbeat in his blood.

Cobra shifted slightly in front of him when Lucy and Natsu got crushed to his side, rolling his eye less sarcastically than Laxus expected at Lucy’s mouthed apology. Laxus grinned at the opportunity to both touch and embarrass him, grabbing his hips and pulling him against Laxus’ chest, dancing behind him as one song bled into another, the crowd going wild at the new mix.

Cobra stilled at first, looking over his shoulder with a sharp glare that made Laxus’ smirk grow larger as he rolled his hips against Cobra’s ass. His cheeks looked darker when a strobe light rolled over his face, bathing him in purple light and a voice in the back of Laxus’ mind compared him to what a god of contempt and poison might look like. Thoughts of how fucking whipped he was were forced out of his mind as Cobra gave him a dangerous smile before turning his head back to the stage and crushing his ass into Laxus with a lewd and rough roll. Laxus cursed through a grin, fingers digging into Cobra’s hips, thumbs slipping under the hem of his shirt and moving over the taut skin of his hip bones and stomach.

More songs passed like that, Cobra and Laxus working up a heavy sweat grinding and rutting against one another in the sweltering heat created by a crowd full of young adults doing the same. Laxus pointedly ignored his baby cousin going even harder against Natsu than Cobra was to him, Natsu’s sweaty forehead connected to her jaw as he sucked at her neck, one hand flat on her stomach as he guided her in deep rolls against him in what Laxus was almost disgusted to note was practiced movements.

He didn’t know how well Natsu would understand a ‘touch her and I’ll castrate you’ without being able to hear Laxus’ tone but he was hoping he’d be able to convey the right amount of ‘I could kill you with you hand’ in his eyes when he cornered the pink haired brat after the show.

He was thankful to see Lucy stop trying to ride Natsu’s dick through their clothes, shrieking with joy when Natsu stooped low and put her on his shoulders. She gripped his hair as he stood again, bare thighs clenching around his head and his own hands gripping into her pale skin tightly. Laxus was stopped from straight up decking Natsu for putting his face so close to parts of Lucy Laxus would rather fucking claw his eyes out with a rusty spoon than think about when he noticed Natsu looking up at Lucy. His eyes were soft, fondness almost palpable in an aura around them as they met each other's gazes. Lucy beamed as she smiled down at him, braid messed and slung over one shoulder and glitter paint smeared over her cheek and bare shoulders. Natsu’s smile was lopsided, the couple completely separated from the music and crowd around them as Lucy leaned down, sealing her lips against his sweetly. She pulled back slightly, giggling as Natsu rubbed his nose along hers and they got lost in each others eyes again.

Laxus let his gaze drift to Cobra, an unfamiliar ache in his chest making him frown at the spiked hair in front of him.

“Put me on your shoulders and I’ll create a mosh pit,” Cobra said, serious and flat as he looked over his shoulder at Laxus again. The blond smirked, nodding and forcing his attention back on the stage. He frowned down at Cobra when he stopped dancing against him. He cocked his head at Cobra’s searching scowl, unsure of what was going through his head. "Fuck it,” he grunted, confusion making Laxus knit his eyebrows at Cobra’s low grunt. He froze for a second, Cobra twisting fully in his arms and threading his fingers into the short hairs at the base of Laxus’ neck. He grunted as Cobra slammed his mouth to his, rough and a little awkward as he leaned up into Laxus.

The music dulled in his ears, arms winding around Cobra and pulling him flush against his chest. Their lips slated against one another's easily as the kiss drew on, Cobra’s short nails digging greedily into the back of Laxus’ neck and fisting at his short hair. Laxus nipped at Cobra’s lower lip, opening his mouth at Cobra’s demanding swipe of his tongue along Laxus’ lips.

His hand dropped to push into the back pocket of Cobra’s jeans, squeezing harshly and pulling his body flush to Laxus’ again. Cobra broke the kiss, grinning up at him hungrily and with lewd joy dancing in his eye. Laxus squeezed again, returning the dark smirk. Cobra chuckled under his breath before kissing Laxus softly once, returning to demanding and impatient kisses as if to cover up the almost tender action. Neither said anything, resuming dancing and losing themselves in the atmosphere of the show and trying to one-up one another.

Laxus figured Cobra liked having a boyfriend that wasn’t afraid of a little friendly competition.

His hand released Laxus’ hair, sliding between their bodies and roughly groping at the front of Laxus’ pants. Cobra smirked against his mouth when he grunted at the unexpected touch. His self-pleased grin fell when Laxus pulled his hand from Cobra’s pocket and instead ran along the center seam of his jeans, fingers pressing firmly and rubbing at him there. Laxus looked at Cobra through his lashes, pleased to see Cobra’s deep scowl and to feel his face warm in the lack of space between them.

Okay, so maybe a little less-than-friendly competition.

Not that Laxus was complaining.

[beardcore-blog]

Circus of Horrors X

Garry Stretch, the man with the world’s most elastic skin.

Here’s the interview I wrote for Naked – Magazine of the Weird and Wonderful.

Roll up, roll up! See the monsters of the midway! Thrill at the strangest show on Earth! Witness the most incredible, the most unbelievable freak of this or any other century! See Garry Stretch, the world’s most elastic man performing mind-boggling acts of physical distortion. Gasp as he pulls the flesh from his very bones, covering his face with his own incredible skin. Witness with awe and mystery as he attaches blood-bursting bulldog clips to his entire body to perform the amazing “Batman.” No trickery is involved ladies and gentlemen, Garry Stretch is indeed a one hundred percent bona fide freak. We dare you to purchase a ticket to the most bizarre experience of your entire life! Yes my friends, today is your once-in-a-life opportunity to feast your eyes upon the world’s strangest living creature…

Well who could resist such an offer? Certainly not the Naked Magazine team. So, when the Circus Of Horrors came to town, we took a trip to the big top. Quietly tucked behind the scenes we found the trailer of Gary “Stretch” Turner and talked to him about life as the world’s stretchiest man. Lincolnshire-born Garry, holder of two incredible Guinness world records (World’s Stretchiest Skin and Number of Clothes Pegs on Face), spoke frankly about his unusual medical condition and revealed a surprisingly positive view about the strange phenomena of the physical freak….

NAKED: Garry, did your parents know from your birth that you had this unusual physical condition?

GARRY: Well no, not from birth. I guess it was from when I was about five or six years old. The other children in the classroom would take hold of me and go “whoah your skin’s strange,” and I’d stretch it about and that. I think doctor’s said that he’s got very soft skin and that, but they didn’t know my condition was EDS (Ehlers–Danlos Syndrome) until I was about thirteen. I used to go for tests in Sheffield. They’d take bits of skin from me and grow them in laboratories all around the world. A lot of the research you see done on EDS is based on the research on myself, which was probably twenty years ago now. In my particular condition it only effects one in five hundred and ninety-three million people, so there’s probably about ten of us in the world and there’s only two of us performing. EDS covers any condition effecting the connective tissue. So a lot of people have Ehlers–Danlos. People who are double jointed say. The way it effects me is a lack of collagen. If you looked under a microscope at your skin cells they’d be nicely rounded and locked together in many places. Mine are more jagged, more squared, so it gives me elasticity. It’s as simple as that.

NAKED: Did you find that you were particularly teased at school? Was it a burden having such a condition as EDS?

GARRY: No. Once people knew I was stretchy and had seen it 2 or 3 times, it was not an issue anymore. I probably didn’t do it for years. When I started comprehensive school I remember making quite a lot of money with my first day at school charging 10p a pull and 20p to do-it-yourself! I probably ­made about £10 every year going around the first year students. They’d all be intrigued to know, so I’d go around and pose and take tens and twenty pences for a bit of a show.

NAKED: You had the idea of making it into a career quite early on?

GARRY: Yeah, and I left school when I was 15. I went to London with my father and learnt the scaffolding trade and got into construction. After about ten years of that I was a plasterer for five years, and I actually started entertaining about four years ago now. I did some snaps for The Daily Sport – I think I was in that every day for nearly a week or so doing a different stretch, a different story. It was hilarious. And I think about two weeks later, Channel 4 rung me up wanting to do a little show for Fortean TV. So I did that and within two months, Hollywood was on the phone, and that was when I went to set the record.

NAKED: You have a world record for pegs too.

GARRY: Yeah. Well obviously because I was in the book I was skimming through one day, and I saw this Swedish guy wearing 88 pegs on his face and I thought “bloody idiot!” I was sun bathing in the garden at the time and I looked up at the washing line and there were a couple of pegs hanging there so I reached up and put them on. I thought, “that’s not too bad, I could put loads on.” So I went to the local shop and bought them out of pegs and decided to do one side of the face and thought, “yeah here’s another record.” And I think I did over a hundred. Because the photos got in the papers it got a load of other people doing it! There’s a guy in Stoke, a couple of Scandinavians, an American and then it became a craze in Ibiza and Tenerife. They all get pissed on Tequila and fire the pegs on! So I started something! NAKED: What happened to you after setting these records?

GARRY: Without trying to find work in the entertainment game it was all coming to me. It was making a whole lot more money than the plastering so I soon put the trowel down. There wasn’t much thinking really; I had to do this. I must admit that at first I did feel quite ridiculed having loads and loads of people watching me. But I think that after having the chance of working the stage and realising that I could make people laugh without stretching as soon as I start my act, I got such a good feeling. By making people laugh at the same time, I just fell in love with entertaining. Four years ago I would never ever be an entertainer, not in my living life. No way would I be an entertainer. So it crept up on me and sucked me in.

NAKED: Does it cause you any physical pain?

GARRY: No, no pain at all. It’s quite natural to do it. The most pain I go through is putting brand new pegs on at the end of the night. When you get a new set of pegs they really do nip in! When you’re wearing about a hundred and fifty and they’ve all been there fifteen minutes they can bring tears to your eyes.

NAKED: Is there any kind of support organisation for EDS or your particular condition?

GARRY: There is the EDS Support Group. But when I started doing TV appearances they complained heavily saying “you shouldn’t be putting yourself on TV ridiculing yourself and ridiculing the disease.” I said, “excuse me, but its people like myself that have done the research for the condition.” For example, its like the Elephant Man, a freak giving themselves to science. That’s why they have all the information they have now. I did a show for ITV and that’s when all the fussed kicked off. Basically it went to a law court but thankfully they said that I was entitled to do whatever I wanted with my body.

NAKED: Really? It went that far?

GARRY: They tried to stop performing on TV! Because I wanted to find out more information about the disorder, my partner Jane joined the support group – they wouldn’t let me join. We sent a donation but they just ignored it. Would you believe that? Here I am with the stretchiest skin in the world – a classic case of EDS! NAKED: An amazing double standard. So do you find people prejudice to the more obvious physical freaks?

GARRY: I think that the opinions are just split all over the place. “Jesus Christ that is appaling!” to “Oh my God, that is funny.” The reactions are right across the board. You do that first stretch at the beginning of the show and you hear all the different reactions going off at the same time. It amazes people in different ways. Some people really don’t like it. When we get the girls up to pull my skin from the audience – they’re just normal members of the public – and I would say one in ten doesn’t want to do this. She doesn’t want to pull my skin which is ridiculing her, and its getting the audience laughing ‘cus she doesn’t want to do it which makes it good fun as well. But there is one or two that really don’t want to do – but they have too! (both laugh). I do think there was prejudice years ago but people’s thoughts have changed I think. And the freak shows are becoming more acceptable again and slowly but surely they are coming back. You see freaks on the magazine shelves. They’re in everything now. Which is fair enough I think. In the Victorian times people like John Merrick spoke out against the freak shows and the bad conditions. But when the freaks lived and toured together they earned a hell of a lot of money. They were very wealthy people. It was much better for them. The other option was to be in an institution or for the doctors to pull and prod at them. In today’s money, I the top earner was in comparison on more money than David Beckham (laughs). She was on $5000 a week in thirties! Yes, they were very wealthy people and those that didn’t earn as much money, still earned a lot of money in comparison to the average guy. They’d earn a few hundred dollars a week, when the average wage at that time was only about twenty dollars.

NAKED: Do you think despite the benefits you talk about – such as wealth – that it can be hard for a freak who cannot disguise their physical condition? Often freaks become alcoholics or commit suicide.

GARRY: I certainly don’t feel like that. But, I’d rather be how I am than be a dwarf. It doesn’t get me down in any way. No problems.

NAKED: Do you think that looking normal, yet at the same time being a classic example of ‘the freak’ has given you a unique perspective?

GARRY: I would certainly class myself as a freak, though to look at me you wouldn’t know that. I’m only a freak when I want to be, which is ideal. The way I see it anyway. It’s a great party piece. I just get it out when I want. It’s like a costume I’m permanently wearing that doesn’t bother me. I have some good fun with it.

NAKED: Have you been asked to take part in a “classic” freak show?

GARRY: I’ve been invited to Coney Island. A friend of mine Matt Fraser, who is a “thalidomide” and has flippers, did a documentary a couple of years ago about the old freak show artists at Coney Island. And he actually did the routine that they would have done. He re-performed Sealo the Sea Lion Boy’s act, the seal boy who performed in the thirties. He did his old act where he would have to bark and show himself off for fourteen times a day for about half an hour at a time. And I thought, “shit that’s hard work!” It doesn’t bother me, but when I am doing it all day for like photo shoots and then I do two shows it does start to get sore at the end of the night. But I consider it to be part of the job.

NAKED: Has the condition caused any problems? GARRY: The worst thing that has happened to me was about five years ago now. I was getting the traditional birthday bumps, when they throw you up and down by the arms and legs. I felt something strange happening, a sharp pain in my arm. I didn’t think anything of it for a few minutes. I took my coat and shirt off and there was literally no skin on my arm, it had all come down and folded up around my wrists. You could see all the inside of my arm and it looked pretty gruesome really. My skin can tear a lot easier than the average Jack. I think that with me being the way I am you learn to live with it. Sometimes when Jane and I are in bed, she’ll roll over and she’ll be led on my skin, she’ll trap me in (laughs).

NAKED: Do you think you’ll be doing stretching for the rest of your life?

GARRY: I’ll probably be doing this until the day I die. The specialist’s have told me that during old age I will get even stretchier. One of the tricks I do is where I have a half-size basketball and I throw it up in the air with a bit of backspin on it. I pull my belly out and catch it. So hopefully by the time I’m fifty I’ll be using a proper basketball! Maybe I’ll be able to pull my skin over my entire head too! I wouldn’t swap this life for anything else, there’s never a dull moment. I’ve realised that you learn a new thing every night, another reaction to work the crowd. And its such a good feeling when you can work that crowd. It’s a nice feeling to make people happy, make people laugh. People come up to you at the end of the night and say, “that was amazing! Great show!” It makes you feel good about yourself sending people home feeling that way. It’s very rewarding and great fun!

First appeared in Naked – Magazine of the Weird and Wonderful

(Photo and Words Copyright – Mark Berry)

Posted by Mark Berry – Photographer & Graphic Designer on 2007-05-26 12:23:02

Tagged: , mark berry , photography , circus of horrors , gary stretch , garry stretch , vampires , freak , sword swallower , skin , circus , horror , act , burlesque , rock and roll , big top , flickrtate , Anarchistic-Souls , hot cherry , bristol , uk , us , based , los angeles , LA , www.hot-cherry.co.uk , photographer , designer , writer

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