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thesolotomyhan · 3 years

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narcos: jealousy hc poison

a/n: yall im so sorry this took so long but its here and i hope its not bad pls love me:(( on another note i finished my finals so let’s hope my energy matches my free time now to get requests rolling out for you amores :) anyways lets get into it,,

Tags: @fandomnerd16 @visintaes @sheeshgivemeabreak @artemiseamoon @fleurfatale89

let me know if you want to be tagged!

Warnings: NSFW! you know the drill + its longgg

alright, so i get a feeling this would happen in the beginnings of your relationship with poison

like when no one actually knew that you two were dating-

every one of the guys just kinda think youre his friend since they’ve never seen you before and they dont expect poison being someone to be in a relationship you feel???

but either way, i imagine this would happen in the club with all the sicarios because the v i b e sss im feeling are coming from here,,

and also the fact that his ass would come up with some shit like “she’s just a friend, nada mas”

especially once quica gives him that shit eating smile when he sees poison pull out a chair out for you,, holding your hand- just acting like this gentlemen all of a sudden,,

omg- you would probably give poison this subtle look like really?? a friend? but,, just him giving you this nod like just go with it please

and honestly i can see this going smoothly like no problem whatsoever, youre both having a good time ya know,,,

like at this point he has his arm slung around the back of your chair,, everyones laughing and living the night and just- comfortable that he has you by his side and getting along with everyone,,,

but here we fucking go-

i would bet money that quica would be that mf to sweep in next to poison as soon as you get up to go to the bathroom or get some more drinks or something,,

just- this smiling dumbass telling poison he’s going to dance with you once you come back,, just so he can provoke poison because i know he fucking would,,

like i can imagine quica was already trying to get a rise out of poison throughout the night by making sure to direct his fucking jokes to you,, make you laugh and talk with him more than poisons dry ass-

and just before poison can even shut that idea down, quica’s already over here saying something like “what? pense que ella era solo una amiga? i want to dance with your friend, acabo se ve que a ella le caigo mejor que vos”

and omg- the way poison would just glare as he watches quica get up and walk up to you before you reach the table

and you wanting to be social,, honestly dont think much about it,, like its just a quick innocent dance with poisons friend,, nothing could go wrong-

but yall i JUST KNOW once quica has you bien pegadito with him

his ass would be looking over your shoulder at poison, making sure to get his reaction everytime he pulls your body closer with his, or every time he leans in to your ear making you laugh at something he said-

and poison’s over here not paying a single attention to what sure shots telling him,, like his whole attention is on you and quica-

cursing under his breath as he watches the way youre dancing with quica instead of him

and the way youre letting him pull your body closer into his with his hand on the small of your back-

just,, bouncing his leg impatiently every time he sees you laugh and just his eyes becoming darker everytime he makes eyecontact with quicas smirking ass-

wOW just poison having this tense posture,, lips sealed so tight that his hand is itching to reach into his back pocket to pull his gun out,,

and its not until hes had enough once he catches quica’s hand getting too close to his liking near your ass

and like a switch was FLIPPED because all i can imagine is pissed off poison, abruptly getting up that it knocks his chair over,, his jaw clenched as he strides over to the two of you so quick,,,

and just ripping quica off of you, almost making him fall and poison is just heated as hes ready to knock the shit out of him at any second as he stands in between the two of you - “hijo de puta, que te pasa, no la toques aSI”

god,, the intense ass stare off between the both of them, the red lighting of the club and bumping of the music only stirring more emotions in poison wanting nothing more than to wipe quicas smug smile off his face-

but then just,, poison snatching your arm when he turns around, not about to make an even bigger scene already as he drags you out,,

he wont utter a single word to you throughout the car ride, b/c im just imagining him having this death grip on the steering wheel,,, scowl on his face not wanting to hear a single word from you either right now,,

ohh fuck,, ok and once you both get home you would just head straight to the bedroom because at this point you just think he needs a moment to himself,, get some space b/c the atmosphere is fucking t h i c k

bUT then him GraBbing the back of your neck before you walk away,, roughly pulling you back into him and kissing you, not giving you a minute to even think

his hands would be roaming your body,, pushing you back to the bedroom, as youre desperately moving to take his clothes off as he tears off yours, not caring if they ripped or not in the process,,

wow- him dropping you on the bed as he stands at the end,, watching as you come up to him on your knees, your hands coming to unbuckle his pants as you feel his hands grip your ass

and the innocent look your giving him only makes him harder than he already is even tho he wants so badly to be mad at you-

“perdoname papi, no quise hacerte enojar” omg

and then him just giving you these abrupt rough spanks that you know are going to leave marks as he pulls you closer into him,, moving to knead your ass,,, your faces almost touching-

and before you can say anything else,, hes already turning you around and pushing you down onto the bed with your ass up, massaging you to alleviate the pain-

WOW ok,, this is leading into doggy style where he would have you almost ripping the pillows under you as you feel his bruising grip continuously tighten on your hips while he thrusts into you from behind,

just- having you to the point where when he looks down,,, your wobbling knees are about to give out,, your cum dripping down your legs onto the sheets,, and your muffled screams of his name being drowned out by your face in the pillow,,

and him pulling your body up to his by your hair, never once slowing down his thrusts as he places one of his hands on top of yours encouraging you to lick your fingers and touch yourself for him,, beg for him to make you cum- im sorry

i wow, just him holding your body up when you almost collapse,, his movements not once stopping even when youve moved your hand away from your clit,, just getting you until your pleading moans turn incoherent,,

-turning you around on your back,, and moving to hold both of your arms above your head,, driving his hips roughly into you again not giving you a second to breathe,,

forcing your legs to stay open with his body when he feels you start to squeeze them around him because you want to so badly close your legs,,

god- his hand coming to grasp your neck,, moving one of your legs over his shoulder as he moves his other hand down to play with your throbbing clit-

“de quien eres, mamacita? tu crees que ese malparido te puede chingar asi?”

and dear god,, you cant even make his name sound coherent because your brain is solely focused on the snapping of his hips, his cock so deeply buried inside of you,, his fingers overdriving your stimulation and the feeling of his other hand increasingly adding pressure to your neck-

and the only thing coming out of your mouth is loud whimpers as you throw your head back,,, the feeling of his teeth sinking into your jaw has you feeling so many emotions as you dig your nails into his shoulders-

just- him constantly reminding you that hes the only one able to make you feel like this,, making you stutter parts of his name out- i

making a mess out of you ok,, silencing you when you try to tell him you cant do another orgasm but telling you that you made him do this to you so you better take it to remind you that no eres de nadie mas,,

holding your trembling legs open as he watches you still take him in by the way you let out moans of his name and the rise of your hips when he bottoms out- im not ok

wow just- by the time he’s done with you,, your whole body is jolting and covered in marks, your soreness starting to show,, and no words coming out of you as he ghosts his hand over you,,

#narcos imagine #narcos imagines #roberto ramos #poison #roberto ramos x reader #poison x reader #narcos

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hanadolphieron · 3 years

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surfer!jungeun~

warnings; none

genre; fluff

pairing; kim jungeun x gender neutral reader

word count; 1.5k

summary; you meet a squad of surfers while eating your lunch and one of them, the woman, the myth, the legend, kim jungeun, ends up teaching you her craft.

“jo serim, eat my fries one more time and i will squirt ketchup all over your precious hair.”

“i’m hungry, sihyeon~”

“you ate about fifteen slices of bacon this morning. there is no way you’re hungry.”

your two best friends have already commenced their arguing and it’s only 12 o’clock in the afternoon. you sigh loudly, stealing one of sihyeon’s fries while she’s busy berating serim for her love of savory food.

serim, of course, sees you and alerts sihyeon, but siheyon, of course, thinks serim is lying and gets her tomato paste weapon ready.

you heckle at them and grab sihyeon’s arm, making her set the ketchup back on the table. she reluctantly lets you, warning that you could be next.

your take a bite out of your burger. your eyes wander around the restaurant’s patio. it’s small, with the average sets of tables and chairs seated on it. the ordering area is right in your line of vision and you see a pack of girls walk up to it.

it’s a bunch of surfers. looks like they’ve come straight of the beach. one of them appears about ready to snarl at her hair- the sand just does not want to be dusted off.

one of the girls in the front catches your eye. she looks to be the quietest one in the group, standing off the side, the epitome of a tsundere girl crush. you catch her eye as she zones back in to her friends’ conversation and then orders her food.

you smile at her. she looks a little surprised and awkwardly grimaces back.

“the people here are so nice,” serim gushes next to you, “everyone i’ve seen so far has either waved, smiled, or made eye contact with me! i feel so appreciated!”

“yeah,” sihyeon agrees, “must be the food. anyone who gets to eat this good of a burger every day should be excruciatingly happy.”

the irony of the situation almost makes you laugh. you smile despite your slight embarrassment at the girl’s reaction to your normal, humane greeting. your friends take it as a sign that you agree with their observations.

the flock of surfers sit down at the table next to you. the girl you smiled at seems to tense up as she sits down. probably because of the close proximity of strangers. that always seems to be the case of nerves in detached types.

you continue eating your burger, finishing up the last few bites. sihyeon’s ready to go back up for more ice cream. serim’s complaining that she didn’t even have enough time to drink all of her lemonade and it won’t taste good with dairy!

sihyeon’s about to grab serim’s arm and manhandle her up to the counter, but before she can, one of the surfers next to you interrupts, saying, “hey, do you guys want to come down to the beach with us?”

“sure!” onda says happily without hesitation, looking ready to jump up and down.

“yeah,” you and sihyeon chorus at the same time, a little after serim.

“good, it’s getting boring. no one our age ever hangs out here, they’re all at muri beach.”

“why don’t you go down there then?” sihyeon asks curiously.

“it’s a bay, so there’s no waves. too calm for surfing.” the girl responds, tying her hair up in a ponytail and stretching. “anyways, the name’s heejin. i’m the swaggy one in this group.”

“never say the word ‘swaggy’ again,” another one responds, “i’m yves, by the way,” she adds as an afterthought before stuffing a fry into her mouth.

“i’m hyunjin.”

“my name’s jinsoul.”

“jungeun.”

you and your flock of friends introduce yourselves as well, and everyone slowly gets up, grabs their stuff and shuffles down to the water.

everyone talks comfortably, the easy vibes from the surfers seem to have osmosis-ed over to you.

“wait, i need to grab my dog. my mom dropped him off,” yves says before turning around and running back up the restaurant.

“her mom just left the dog unattended?” you ask.

“yeah,” jungeun responds, “it’s a nice dog.”

“understandable. that makes complete sense.”

jungeun senses your sarcasm at her dry response and rolls her eyes. she opens her mouth to retort, but the sound of crashing waves drowns out the noise. you hadn’t realized how loud the ocean was until you were standing right in front of it.

“that’s loud!” serim shouts.

“yeah,” jinsoul yells back, “let’s move further back so we don’t have to yell!”

the group turns around and moves away from the water to set up camp.

everyone rolls out their towels. serim is very happy with her hello kitty one and shows jinsoul excitedly. jinsoul is endeared by this.

yves comes flailing down the beach, fluffy puppy struggling to keep up with its speedy bird of an owner.

“doggy!” serim screams. sihyeon is close behind, audibly keyboard smashing. you jump up too, trying not to hide your smile but failing miserably. there goes your cold, sarcastic first impression.

the three of you collapse onto the dog, who is thoroughly enjoying the attention and is about to wag its tail off.

“what’s its name?” sihyeon says, looking at yves who is doting on the puppy as well.

“haru”

“IT”S SO CUTE!” serim screams, frightening the dog.

“you scared it!” you scold playfully, picking up stealing haru and running back to the group.

“give him back!” serim sounds appalled as she chases after you.

“nope!” you say, and continue running, falling down onto a towel, canine in hand. serim falls on top of you, almost squishing the doggo but he manages to wriggle out of your grips before anything detrimental happens.

you giggle at serim’s attempts to fight you and tickle her sides. she shrieks in your ear and you shove her off, revealing a figure standing in your line of vision.

jungeun.

“uh, hi?” you say, a little embarrassed because why in the world is she staring at you with such a weird look on her face?

“hello. that’s my towel.”

“oh, i’m so sorry, i was just uhm, trying to outrun serim here, and ended up collapsing on it.” you stand up quickly, brushing some sand off.

“no, i mean you can still use it, i’m about to head over and start surfing, so i won’t need it just yet, i was just a little surprised.”

there’s an awkward silence. you open your mouth to say something, but jungeun asks, “do you want to come with me?”

“surfing?” you say.

“yeah. i could teach you.”

“sure,” you agree, shrugging your shoulders. surfing can’t be that hard.

“good luck,” jinsoul tells you, “surfing’s tough. especially with jungeun teaching you.”

“i thought you were an expert?!” you exclaim at your newfound surfing mentor.

“i am, jinsoul just doesn’t know true talent when she sees it.”

“it’s okay jinsoul, i’ll be there to make sure she doesn’t kill y/n or something,” heejin sighs.

“have fun!” serim encourages before going back to intensely focusing on digging her toes into the sand.

* * *

“are you 100% sure about this? my life’s feeling a little threatened.”

“you’ll be fine, y/n. i’m here to protect you,” jungeun comforts you with a wink.

heejin rolls her eyes at the two of you, “i’m going to surf over there and leave you two by yourselves. holler if y/n dies. i don’t care what happens to jungeun, as long as i’m not going to be blamed for it.”

you and jungeun snort as heejin swims away.

“so, first you’re going to jump on the board and sit on it. you need to learn how to balance before you do anything.”

you groan as you haul yourself up on the board. everybody say yay for public embarrassment!

luckily, you’re still in shallow water and jungeun is holding your board so you don’t get obliterated by the waves just yet.

you sit on the board. “what now?” you ask, conflicted between looking digruntled and attentive.

“now, you’re going to stand up,” jungeun is trying not to grin maniacally. you’re resentful but still listening so well and it’s the most endearing thing she’s ever seen.

“quit smiling like that. i know you’re trying not to laugh at me,” you whine.

jungeun just shakes her head. you have no idea.

with wobbly legs, you squat on your board and slowly stand up. however, your limbs decide to mutiny against you and you lose your balance, falling into the water.

“let’s try that again,” jungeun says, helping you up.

this time, she grabs hold of your hand as you try to stand up again. you’re still for a few seconds before your legs get wild once again. however, jungeun rests her hand on your waist in order to center you.

this gesture causes you to lose focus even more. normally you’re chill about people being touchy with you or even flirting, but for some reason jungeun is making you internally combust. must be the way her eyebrows quirk up whenever she speaks to you, or the subtle touches, or her natural commanding persona, or how she tries really hard to look cold but you just know she’s a big softie, or-

“hey, you good? you look murderous.”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you pause for a second, recalling where you are.

“wait, i’m standing up!” you exclaim.

jungeun chuckles at your realization, “good observation.”

“can we try actually surfing now?”

“sure, you might fall again, but you seem to learn fast.”

“it’s okay, the water will catch me.”

“i guess it will,” jungeun shrugs, and the two of you swim into the open ocean together.

@catgirlkimlip put many thots in my head

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years

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The Mandalorian s2 ep1 Reactions Post That’s right I’m BACK

and none of you not even god himself can stop me from rambling about space cowboy dad and tiny green baby stuff for much longer than any sane person should

the TL;DR is that I still love this show SO MUCH, beware a bunch of spoilers under the cut!

- costume design wise I LOVE how badly the armour fits Cobb Vanth

especially when you get shots with him and Din side by side for contrast:

It’s not just that it’s clearly not made for him (it seems he’s a lot lankier and more wiry than Boba is), he simply doesn’t know how to wear it, and he doesn’t know how to take care of it, because he doesn’t know what it means. Remember when Din’s breastplate got bent completely out of shape by the mudhorn and he had it repaired to the best of his ability long before they even finished with the ship? That’s why he looks so grounded and natural in it and Vanth has sort of a clumsy Spiderman-in-his-first-home-made-costume air about him. (also Boba’s helmet has a beautiful heft and solidity to it in this, they make all the beskar have a Feel and weight to it, makes it feel important)

I like that Vanth is taller than Din; everything that drives home that Din’s strength doesn’t come from being naturally physically imposing or impressive is a joy to me

- Boba’s armour seems to be confirmed to be real beskar, which gives me so much hope that they’re doing something actually nuanced and interesting with Boba and Jango’s cultural identities as Mandalorians (whether they do consider themselves that or not, for example), unlike George Lucas’ inexplicable yet unbending stance of ‘They aren’t and never were lol get fucked Fetts’

the way the triumphant heroic part of the mando music sputtered and died when the man himself showed up tho... uh-oh this might be bad news

man but that’s a stunning and surprising way to introduce a well-known character divorced from what makes them so iconic, though, just from that I’m going to trust they know what they’re doing (AND they got temuera morrison back I’m so EXCITED!!!). without the armor there’s the face of someone who shared that face with literal millions and at the same time must be looking older than his father ever got to at this point, and that’s super interesting as a starting point to me. (I... guess there’s still a chance it’s a fakeout and that it’s actually another clone, but that would be such a letdown when they’ve already given us this haha)

- an excellent [mando sighs] moment

this opening scene did a great job of re-summarizing him for the audience -- establishing again that he gives you one chance at dealing with him fairly and if you insist on continuing to be an asshole about it, you’re toast, the fact that his fighting style is so much about being able to tank blows rather than not getting hit in the first place, the horror movie monster mando setup as he stalked the dude down and strung him up, the Poetic Justice predicated on some very careful word choices, and most importantly “where I go, he goes”... all wonderful, I’m sure I’ll watch this scene back for fine details and better looks at the background characters many many times

(word seems to have spread about him and the baby for real now, which makes me VERY nervous btw)

- Pulserifle’s back! Jetpack’s back! Razor Crest’s back! Grappling line’s back! PELLI’S BACK!!!!!! Tattooine... is also back *Finn voice* Why does everyone want to go back to Tattooine????

I really enjoyed the way they fleshed out and (for lack of a better word) humanized the sand people, though, if you are going back to this desert hellplanet again that is a worthy reason to do it

- Din swearing :O!! and one of the less egregious star wars swears too, I’m fine with this

- in campaign star wars news: I guess there was sort of both a binbon and a jubna in this ep! what a time to be alive

- as usual I love the jawa. a bright spot in any day, just a bunch of lil goblin-y friends hanging out having the best time loving sparkly crystals and rescuing silver foxes.

get in loser we’re going shopping

I uh. Do you think. Hm. Is there maybe a metaphor here somewhere. Is there perhaps a hidden, one may say double, meaning, at play, right here, in this image? Who can say, it’s just niggling at me (there’s a very similar set of shots with Toro in season 1, but seemingly the show went ‘I fear we might have gone too subtle with it, let’s amp it up this time’ over the season break loool)

honestly though this dynamic really highlighted everything I love about the ways Din performs masculinity. It’s so much softer and more community/collaboration focused and more comfortable to be around than Vanth’s version -- and Vanth isn’t a bad dude by any stretch of the imagination, it’s not hard to see why he’s like that considering where he’s from, he’s just such a... man. The lone person who can protect this village! The only man who’s got what it takes! It’s all on his shoulders and no one else’s, so do exactly as he says or he’ll put a hole in you! (I think it’s telling that one of his first comments to Din is ‘I’m sure you call the shots wherever you’re from, but ‘round here, I’m the person who tell folks what to do’, because as we as the audience knows, Din very much does not call the shots of where he’s from lol) I guess it says some nice things about the tribe of Mandos Din is from that this is how he approaches things, and it says some good things about Vanth how quickly he comes around to this smarter and less confrontational/domineering style of doing things once he’s been exposed to it and sees how it works. it’s just neat

(it’s smart of Favreau to set his ~*lone gunslinger*~ character up like this, too, it makes him so much more interesting and versatile)

- With the way Din says ‘a Mandalorian Armorer sent me on my path’ it does seem confirmed that’s the equivalent of a priest role or a sort of shaman -- I wonder if he knows the name of ‘The’ Armorer or if they take on the role as a whole identity

- the sheer contrast between the two people who wanted Din to take his helmet off for them in this ep tho... wants Mando’s armour off for horrible awful reasons and got exactly what he deserved:

wants Mando’s armour off for entirely sympathetic and understandable, just culturally uninformed, thirsty thirsty reasons & also having drinks together:

(the sort of... little lick over his bottom lip he does there? keep it in your pants vanth my GODjflsadf he’s a good dude tho he understands and respects the ‘no armour removal before marriage’ thing and backs down gracefully)

- This is a nuanced thing: I don’t think I actually ship it (not in a requited way from Din’s side, anyway, Vanth I’m 100% sure about lol), but the incredible potential for out-of-context-taking of “Take it off, or I will”/”...we doin’ this in front of the kid?” is uh astounding

(anyone got the vibe Vanth sort of had something with the bartender too? no just me? well well)

- I was never really scared Din was actually dead or hurt b/c baby wasn’t scared and I figure he’d know lol, a very useful fear barometer

- “What’s the plan?” “Take care of the child” “What are you gonna do?” “I don’t know, but wish me luck *yeets his new bro out of harm’s way before diving in head first himself*” fksdjhfkjlashdfkjsldahfkasldjhfskldajhfsadkjfh WHAT a summation of Din’s entire approach to battle & life, dad please you carry a not insignificant part of my heart around with you be careful

(Also with the heavy implication that Boba was watching the whole thing... can you imagine him just looking on as Din throws himself down that gullet like a madman. There must have been some ‘o_-7 *headscratch headscratch* ???’ going on for him there)

it’s kind of sweet that din trusts vanth will take care of the baby if something happens though, they really bonded quickly huh

- the sand people who kept willingly going over to the krayt dragon’s cave are honestly braver and more admirable than anyone else has ever been, I kept just shouting in anguish as they were gobbled up, they deserved better

- can we talk about how clear it still is that Din’s just... lonely. When he thinks he’s found another Mando and he sounds almost reverent with relief... and then it gets odder and odder (’uh... drinks? I guess... does he have drinking straws with him or -- HE’S TAKING THE HELMET OFF???’ oh buddy)

I wonder if they’re building towards something about him realizing it doesn’t have to be Mandos for him to trust and bond with people longer term? Basically all the characters he’s met and we’ve watched him form attachments to and get help from are non-Mandos -- Kuiil :’^(, Cara, Omera, Cobb Vanth, IG-11 :^’’(, Greef Karga to a degree. Establishing so firmly what he’s looking for this early would be good setup for a ‘what a character thinks they want vs. what they need’ thing later on just on a writing level, anyway, Boba Fett could bring in some interesting points of view about Mandalorianness too

- baby’s happy gurgles when he sees pelli!!!!!! din speaking sand people language and petting alligator doggies!!!!!!

- pedro pascal’s voice work remains an utter joy to me. din’s measured, earnest, occasionally slightly stilted way of talking is still so good, and then he does things like inserting some more... idk life is the wrong word but that more charged and dynamic tone he took on when he said (”I thought you weren’t a gambler”) “I’m not”. *chef kiss*

- if the pulse rifle’s stun is able to do that to a fuckn krayt dragon... that’s some serious shit din is carrying around with him lol (interestingly the actual shooty pew-pew part of it didn’t seem to do much to it, but then I guess he was shocking it from the inside out and not through thick hide, so idk)

- my only real complaints about this ep: Vanth’s backstory ran a bit long, and not enough baby & dad interaction. the concept art’s got me tho:

(din often wears his original/old armour in concept art still, incidentally, don’t know what that’s about)

awwwwwww

+ omfg ;______;

- this sand people person conscientiously brushing a bantha’s teeth... blessed

- Customary flame thrower report: there was a rare useful deployment of the flamethrower. Good job Mando’s flame thrower for furthering the field of diplomacy

ETA: I CAN’T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO MENTION THIS: DIN BEING COMFORTABLE(ISH) AROUND DROIDS NOW!!!! GROWTH????!?! IG-11 WE MISS YOU??????????

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #star wars #the mandalorian meta #meta #(I'm trying to label my meta more specifically these days b/c the general meta tag is a MESS on my blog lol)#mmmmmmmm feels good to break out the overanalysis goggles again it's time to OVERTHINK SOME SHIT my friends

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rwbyvein · 3 years

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Firen Lhain: Chapter 608: Swimsuit Runway: Part I/III

Mercury and Emerald looked up at the vaunted city of Mistral. "I know you're a street rat," Mercury said to her, "but let me explain some things to you."

"I'M NOT A STREET RAT!" Emerald shouted, "Cinder..."

"Never stopped you from picking pockets." Mercury firmly stated.

"What do you have against!?.."

"Because it draws a LOT attention, and is one of the worst ways to make money. Did you learn nothing from?.." he said, and trailed off. "Anyways, Mistral is very classist. The higher status you are, the higher up on the mountain you get to live. This means the higher you go up, the more scrutiny we get."

"And how do you know this?" Emerald asked.

"I guess it might have never occured to you that my father did more than beat me." Mercury voiced, "He took me on assignments. Sometimes I even helped. But you are missing the best part."

"And what's that?" Emerald spitefully asked him.

"Right now what we need most is a street rat. You need to find where all of the other street rats go."

"And then what?" Emerald asked.

"We knock on a few doors." Mercury stated. "And whatever you do, don't pick any pockets."

"And why should I listen to you?!" Emerald shouted, and Mercury looked around, seeing everyone looking at them.

"Because once we start to move we'll have more than enough money to get by," Mercury voiced, "and if you keep that up - you'll ruin everything. Cinder's not here to pamper you and fix your mistakes."

Emerald scoffed, and was incensed, but wasn't sure of what to say. She breathed in deep when something occured to her. "Why... are we even working together?"

"Because we both want to find Cinder," Mercury voiced, "and our chances are much better together."

Emerald angrily looked at him before looking away. He wasn't sure if she saw the panic on his face, but he was trying his best to hide it.

* * *

Mercury laid back in the shadows, simply relaxing, when Emerald reappeared. "So, what?, I do all the hard work, and you just sit your ass aroun?.."

Mercury sat up, "What did you find?"

"Drug dealers, pimps, street gangs, triads, fixers for the homeless, fences..."

"More than enough to get started." Mercury said, leaned back, and flipped himself up to his feet.

"And just what are you going to do?" Emerald said with clear hostility?"

Mercury cricked his neck and started moving about like he was in a fight, "Knock on a few doors."

* * *

Mercury kicked the door into the drug den. It naturally caused a whole lot of panic, with people running all over the place. They were half dressed and strung out on drugs. Many were not able to respond at all and barely looked at him.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" a man asked him.

"The son of Marcus Black." Mercury stated. "I'm looking to build a little nest egg. So, you can give me your money, or I can kill you and take it." A group of large men approached him.

* * *

Mercury left through the destroyed door carrying a large sack of Lien, and walked into the shadows.

"Very subtle." Emerald stated.

"I never said we had to be subtle." Mercury stated. "This den is too low-brow to have any political connections. It's also an independant operator. All we did was make it so their competitors can jack up the prices." Emerald stared at him in awe, unsure of what to say, "But, now, everyone respects us. And if you don't mess with them, they won't mess with us. We also did get a sack of Lien out of it."

"How's that different from pick-pocketing?" Emerald asked him, and Mercury choked up on the bag.

"What's the best way to make money pick-pocketing?" Mercury asked.

"...the... rich?.." Emerald asked.

"Right." Mercury stated, "All it takes is one rich asshole getting pick-pocketed to piss off the entire powers that be in a kingdom. I got a hell of a lot more money from a single opium den, and nobody cares."

Emerald looked around him at the broken door. "Someone cares."

"Yeah, but the only ones who care are all dead." Mercury said. "Now for the second part."

"Second part?" Emerald asked.

"Take me to the king of the beggars."

* * *

Mercury augustly walked up to the disheveled man. "We're looking for a friend of ours."

"Oh?" the disheveled man asked.

"And we're willing to pay for anyone who can get us information. Just..." Mercury voiced, "don't lie to us. We're," he said, and paused, giving him an intense glare, "not fond of people lying to us."

* * *

RWBY + Nora + Aurora entered the house, only to find the boys and Ilia sitting on the couches.

"So?," Yang asked, "you guys have fun in our absence?"

"Just training." Jaune tried to casually say.

"Perhaps we should?.." Blake asked, looking at the stairs to the gymnasium.

"She has a point." Weiss said.

"What?" Ruby replied.

"Let's show these guys our new swimsuits." Yang said to her, and then turned back to the lounge, "No peeking."

"I know it was meant as a joke, but we would never do such a thing." Ren voiced.

Yang rolled her eyes, and the Huntresses all filed down the stairs.

* * *

"Something is afoot." Weiss quipped.

"Duh." Yang said to her.

"That's a duh?" Ruby asked.

"Duh." Yang said in reply, "Sis."

Weiss quickly pulled Ruby into a hug. She looked over Ruby's shoulder at Yang, "Social graces are perhaps not her strongest suit."

"Oh, believe me," Yang said to her, "I KNOW. Which is why I just bluntly tell Ruby these things."

"She's right." Ruby voiced.

"Perchance?.." Weiss asked, "Whom?.."

"Oh?" Ruby asked, "I mean, Yang. Sometimes she just has to slap me with how things are."

"Yes..." Blake voiced, "the boys are up to something... but I think..."

"Does that?.." Yang asked, "mean you include Ilia as one of 'the boys?'"

Blake just glared at her. She then rolled her eyes before continuing, "BUT I THINK that they would never do anything against us. So, chances are they are buying a present for us, or something."

"What kind of present?!" Nora exclaimed. Blake scowled. Weiss scoffed. Yang quickly moved forward and covered Nora's mouth.

"Shh." Yang whispered to her. Nora nodded and Yang let her go.

"What do we do?" Ruby asked.

"Try to not react." Weiss exclaimed.

"And try to act surprised when they pull it off." Yang continued.

"And?," Ruby asked, "if I'm, not so good at?.."

"She does have a point." Blake voiced.

"What do we do?!" Nora exclaimed, "Because I'm terrible at it, too."

"Perhaps a gag." Weiss voiced.

Nora eagerly pointed at her.

"YES!"

Ruby looked about nervously before pulling her hood over her head.

"I'm pretty sure Jaune has figured out what that means." Nora said to Ruby.

"What do we do?!" Ruby shouted from under her hood.

"Mayhap..." Weiss voiced, "not spend so much time shouting."

Ruby dropped down to all fours. Her tail stuck out of her cape, twitching nervously. She saw it out of the corner of her eyes, and turned towards it. And again. And again, until Yang picked her up. Ruby licked her on the face. Yang quickly let go, causing Ruby to land on all four and run off to the corner. She then ran away to the other corner. She tried to run again, only to have Weiss' black Glyph hold her in-place. She tried to gallop away, but found herself not moving. She hid back under her hood, head quickly moving from place to place.

"She's?.." Weiss asked... "gone... feral?.."

This caused Blake to scoff.

"Dog my cats," Yang voiced, "what got her as high as the hair on a cat's back?" This caused Weiss to glare at Yang. "What?" Yang asked, "You can't tell me your not a fan of my puns."

"It's more..." that Weiss stated, finding the words, "that you are mixing metaphors..."

"It's enough to make a cat laugh." Yang said, causing Blake to break a faint smile.

"I hate to be a wet blanket." Weiss grumbled.

"We know THAT's not true." Nora said to her.

"But turned Blake from a hellcat to one with a cheshire grin?" Weiss asked

"Hoo, doggy." Yang said to her.

"Was that a pun?" Nora asked.

Yang patted Nora on the back, "She tried her best. She also brings up a good point." Weiss, Yang, and Nora all turned to look at Blake.

Blake breathed in deeply before replying ,"We can't let our animal instincts take over."

"Why not?" Nora asked.

"It's a sin!" Blake exclaimed.

"Says who?" Yang voiced.

And Blake looked at her, "If Faunus start acting like animals, how do you think the Humans will treat us?"

"She makes a valid... point..." Weiss voiced.

"Says who?!" Nora exclaimed.

"Yeah." Yang interjected, "Faunus have tried acting all Human-like, and everyone still hates us. Well, except in Patch... the only reason we're allowed so high in Mistral is because we're Huntresses... or were students... I mean..."

"Huntressesmen." Nora added.

"Yes!" Yang said, pointing at Nora.

"That is not... remotely... a word." Weiss grumbled.

"You sound like Jaune..." Nora dejectedly huffed, and this caused Weiss to let out a surprised scoff.

* * *

Jaune, Ren, Qrow, Oscar, and Ilia sat awkwardly on the couches.

"Does?.." Oscar voiced, "it always take this long for girls to get changed?"

"Yes." Jaune decisively said.

"And the shouting?.." Oscar added.

"Also yes." Jaune said with grim finality.

* * *

Note: It means seem like Nora's being inconsistent on her knowledge, she's just being Nora. She knows about the speciality items, but not the rings.

#rwby #firen lhain #faunus au #pollinated knight

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long-bodyswap · 4 years

Text

Yotta Life

(Im sorry I don’t have the credits, but if you know the author you can @)

It’s been an adjustment lately getting used to all this fame and attention since Adele’s new album came out. The whole world knew it would be huge, but even the most optimistic among us couldn’t have imagined that it would have the best selling first week sales of any album in history! With massive, iconic numbers like that, it was only natural that she would need more security while she goes on her whirlwind press promo, and I’m the best in the business- ermmm- I mean technically my host, Peter Van der Veen is the best in the business, but it’s not like anyone could tell the difference since the spell I used gave me access to all of his memories, training, and personality traits. No one has suspected a thing, and I’ve been inside Peter since he was Lady Gaga’s bodyguard!Possessing the top bodyguard for the stars has been a dream come true because I’ve met and spent time with almost all of my idols. Gaga is much more normal in private than people give her credit for, but my favorite client so far has been Adele, BY FAR. Never have I ever met such a witty, sweet, funny as shit, monumentally talented, and down to earth person. Rumor has it she used to be quite the drinker before she had her baby, but every now and then she’s whipped out a little reward for the road with her team, meaning I was naturally drawn into the fun. IIt’s been simply remarkable getting to know Adele and honestly consider her a friend. She’s so honest and personable that I catch myself shifting out of Peter’s stern persona, dropping sass and giggling to her jokes. I remind myself often that it’s only acceptable around Adele, but anyone who had previously known Peter would be immensely suspicious. Still, it’s been the single most meaningful (and lucrative) gig I’ve ever done. You can see that I try my hardest to remain stern and serious. It’s so hard because even her commentary during casual conversation is adorable and hilarious enough to make a stone gargoyle let out a good chuckle. Sometimes it honestly is too much and I can’t help but smile and join in the silliness. It’s comforting at least to know that Peter’s smile looks so fucking sexy- almost as sexy as his stern smolder.

The bulk of the promo circuit ended in December so now that it’s January 2016, I finally have some time to myself. Adele thanked me profusely for my service and friendship and begged me to free up my schedule so I could join her when her tour starts in April. I promised her I’d lock in the dates, but it’s going to be nice to have some time to have fun behind closed doors…At the very least it’ll be nice to show off this body.Fuck, what a great day. I’m rocking this perfect bronze and I can finally show off this sculpted body. I work ridiculously hard to keep it up to Peter’s standards, but it’s so worth it. Peter’s body looks sexy as hell in a suit, but it was meant to be seen and envied by others. And the Adele gig was so lucrative that I’m set to be enjoying the next four months shirtless and glistening at this Mexican resort. I used this morning to do a power workout of sprints and chest interval training in a nearby canyon, and then I rewarded myself with a nice afternoon spent relaxing at the beach.Peter’s sore muscles always made me horny for some reason, which meant that I was on edge almost all day every day…I didn’t mind though. It reminded me of how powerful and full of my vitality my host was. What I did mind though was burning in this hot sun. Noticing a cute boy eyeing me, I saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone. The adorable fucker looked about my real age, but way better looking, not that that mattered since I was inhabiting Mr. Europe 2005. Being bisexual, I’ve been able to use Peter’s body to anonymously fuck around with hotties from all over the world, but I’ve gotta say I’ve developed a strong preference for boys, so let’s test the waters and see if this kid wants a taste of the premier bodyguard to the stars.“Hey, kid.” I said in a deep, yet friendly tone. “You got a sec to help me out with something?” I made sure to flash him a subtle smile, also pulling my shades down so he could see the twinkle in my beautiful eyes. It only took me a second to realize I had him hook, line, and sinker.That big smile was one thing, but I had also completely stopped him in his tracks. He was walking back over to me without a single hesitation. “What can I do for you?” The chap asked with a friendly tone that was masking what I, after maaaanyy similar encounters, knew was lust.“You see, I’m going to start burning soon, so could you help me with a fresh layer of sunblock?”He kept his jaw from dropping, but I knew he was shocked and ecstatic. “You mean, on your back?” He asked, treading cautiously.“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with the whole thing,” I said, pointing out my sculpted chest and abs before biting my lip in a fake show of nervous anticipation.

The boy paused to think for a second before smiling again and walking over. “Sure, I’d love to help out,” he said in a way that tried to make it sound like he was just doing a normal favor for a stranger.

I grinned in relief before putting my shades back on and getting out my tube of sunblock. I laid down, making sure to get comfortable before I took a second to adjust my junk since I was about a quarter hard from the sheer testosterone pumping through my veins.

“Sorry about that,” I said before getting relaxed again. “Had a brutal workout this morning. Always gets the testosterone flowing, if you know what I mean.”“I could tell you had a good workout this morning. You’ve got the pumped look. Maybe you can share some workout tips- I’m trying to bulk up, but it’s been kinda hard.”“Son, you don’t need to add a single pound of mass. The lean look is really sexy on you.” I said that right as he popped the cap open, making him blush before he squeezed a healthy helping of that cream into his hands.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he said before slathering that cream on my abs. I shivered and gasped from the cold, tightening my core from the surprise, but he kept talking. “Especially when you have a body like this.”As far as I could tell, he had no idea who I was, so it was safe to see if I could push his buttons a little.As he spread the cream over Peter’s ripped abs, I quietly moaned from the feeling of those smooth fingers rubbing that coconut scented goodness into my stolen skin. The look on this boy’s face was one of inner conflict. He didn’t know if he should go a little further, but he finally got my subtle hint and began rubbing me more purposefully until he was giving my abs a slow and deep massage.

“You have…so much definition,” he marveled as he worked his strong fingers more and more expertly. “mmmmmmm that feels so good, kid. Guess you could tell that yesterday was ab day,” By this point his constant touch had me more than half hard. He definitely noticed my long and thick cock growing in my shorts, but he didn’t back away. He started massaging me even more purposefully, sensually even. Damn, this kid had some kink in him.

“And I’d bet money you did a chest day today,” he said slowly and smoothly as he began working his magical hands up to my muscular slabs of pec perfection. I moaned louder this time as he worked his hands up to my chest so he was grabbing a pec with each hand, squeezing firmly enough to loosen up those stiff muscles. He squeezed harder, massaging my sore chest and making me groan in a mix of ecstasy and agony. I was shocked though as he, without stopping his deep tissue chest massage, began to gently flick and rub my nipples with his thumbs. I inhaled deeply, feeling my cock twitch and continue to engorge as this boy worked Peter’s incredibly sensitive nipples. My breathing picked up, getting slightly faster before this kid made his big move. I gasped loudly as he leaned down and began sucking on one of my nipples before reaching the other hand down to rub my cock through my shorts, making it pulsate and swell to full hardness.

“Unnnngggg,” I groaned as I looked down at this cutie with thick, bushy eyebrows give in to his hunger for cock, specifically my cock. I gasped again as he gripped my cock through the shorts, feeling the thickness of my girth and the obvious length before smiling, apparently satisfied with Peter’s thick 8.5 inches. “If you wanted me, you should have just said so,” he whispered seductively into my ear.

I knocked the big tube of sunscreen onto the sand before grabbing him and pulling him on top of my powerful chest, enjoying the weight of his body against my greased up chest. I brought my mouth to his and he eagerly opened as I locked our lips and brought our tongues into a dance of lust. Fuck, he tasted so minty. My rock hard cock pulsated as I humped my crotch up against his, feeling his hard dick rub back against mine as I let us get lost in the lust. FInally breaking the kiss, I told him, “I have a room,” barely having the breath to make the sentence. He just smiled before we made a mad dash to pick up our shit and cover our raging hard ons as we ran back to the hotel. I woke up the next morning alone int he bed except for a little note that had a phone number and the name Zac. Man, last night was crazy. I mean, I’ve done some kinky shit with Peter’s body, but I think I blew four of Peter’s loads into that boy last night. Yeah, there was the load when I was fucking him doggy style. Then another when I was fucking him missionary. The third one was when he was riding me. mmmmm, the last one was my favorite. I pinned that kid against the wall with my strong arms and bounced him up and down off my powerful thrusts until I finally blew that last load so deep inside him. On that one things got so intense. Zac was hollering and almost hyperventilating my cock made him feel so good. He didn’t even touch his dick that time since he was scratching at the wall the whole time, but his cock still blew a load all over the two of us. That was about when I hit my limit. I remember roaring so loud I thought the walls were vibrating before finally, dripping in sweat and muscles and veins bulging all over my body, I blew all of the remaining cum in Peter’s balls so deep into that boy. When I calmed down, I carried the boy back to the bed and we both laid there making out and squirming from the afterglow of our orgasms before passing out from our multi-hour fuckfest.

I smirked as I thought to myself how this would be my life for the next four months. I got up and walked over to mirror, admiring my boxer-clad vessel, still just as high off of the beauty of this stolen body as I was two years ago when I first took Peter over.

“You’re one sexy man,” I said to the reflection before winking. God damn, seeing Peter’s body respond to my actions was still so satisfying. I felt a fluttery sensation deep in my gut before blushing from the sight of the sexy body in front of me. Mmmmmm yeah, Peter might be a strong and tough man, but I can always make him do whatever I want because he’s powerless with me inside.

“Don’t ever forget that you’re too weak to resist me. You couldn’t do a thing to stop my soul from slipping inside you and stealing you,” I taunted his reflection as I leaned his head down to his pit and huffed in his manly sweat and stench from yesterday’s workout and fuckfest.

“You smell like a real man,” I said with appreciation before I stripped off the boxers and brought them up to my face which instantly scrunched up into one of ecstasy, huffing in the crotch area, almost coughing from the power of the manly muskiness. It was so fucking masculine and sexy, and it always got me hard.“That turns you on doesn’t it, you kinky queer?” I asked his reflection before I brought my lips to the mirror and pretended to make out with Peter. My heart sank though as the cold glass reminded me that I was on the other side. Sure, I could take over some other stud for a night and use my powers to mind control Peter into having a wild night of passion, but it takes me a lot of time to build up the energy to switch, so I only like to switch sparingly. I need at least three months to build up the necessary energy, so I don’t use the gift for casual flings. No. It’s a commitment, so the stolen life has to be perfect. I stayed in Peter for the last two years because life has been so perfect, but it would be nice to finally feel and taste his body from the other side…Still, I’d need to find the perfect body and life in the next week or two in order to have enough time to get back inside Peter in time for Adele’s tour. I guess I’ll just have to wait until after the tour…My frustration built, and I decided to take it out on Peter. Even though I knew he was blacked out, I liked to pretend he was aware of everything when I got mad. Grabbing his semi-hard cock, I pumped it until I got it back up to full hardness, watching myself make angry, yet sexy and turned on faces in the mirror as I pumped myself mercilessly.

“Yeah! You like that you queer slut?! I’m gonna make you eat every drop of this cum! unnnnngggggggg it’s gonna taste so fucking good, you fag! Who’s the tough guy now, you freaky fag? Can’t believe a tough guy like you is gonna eat your own load like some queer cum whore!” God, this always made me feel so turned on and so much better. I was getting close to orgasm when the phone rang. I instantly clicked ignore, but it started ringing again. I growled as I clicked ignore a second time, but the damn phone rang a third time. Cursing, I let go of Peter’s cock and switched to his professional voice as I answered the phone.

Even though I was initially annoyed, I was so glad I picked up the phone. Smiling from ear to ear, I listened to a very special new client ask for my services over the next three and a half months. Apparently he needed extra security for his wife, so tomorrow I would be on an early morning flight to Beverly Hills. My vacation wasn’t over, it was just moving to another locale…and I’d finally have the chance to taste Peter’s lips and mouth from another perspective.Fuck, I was so excited I went back to pumping Peter’s cock. I ate his load, this time to celebrate! Now it’s time for me to get cleaned up, buy tickets, and pack!It was so lucky to get that call from Bastian Gillmeier, or Bastian Yotta as the media and instagram know him. couldn’t help but enjoy one more early morning walk in Peter’s body, happily flaunting his muscles as I left shirtless and enjoyed the feeling of the breeze on his skin. But then I checked his watched and realized how late I was.

“Shit! Better get back and shower. Gotta get to the airport. Damn, I won’t even have time to yank out one last load!” I quickly cleaned up and called for a cab, and before I knew it I had checked in and boarded my plane en route to Beverly Hills. Still, I was frustrated by this libido and the desire, no, the NEED to feel Peter’s cock be relieved one last time. It was one of those rare flights where it was barely at half capacity, and somehow I was the only one in the first class section. This airline was my favorite too because instead of thin curtains separating first class from economy, there were actual doors, affording me a much greater sense of privacy. Still, I didn’t feel comfortable pumping a load out with that cute flight attendant around. With me being the only client, he was checking on me practically every ten minutes, and I wanted to make this last. I thought about going in the lavatory, but there was something so nasty and classless about that. No. I guess I’d need to test the sensibilities of this handsome flight attendant. Maybe he could even help me out.

I looked behind me and predictably saw him waiting there with a puppy like grin, waiting to please me. “Would you like another drink, sir?”I flashed him an enticing grin as I thought pensively. “That does sound refreshing,” I remark as I subtly relax in my seat, getting more comfortable and spreading my legs just a little. “Another barcardi and coke?”“I don’t know. I’m craving something a little different. I’m just so on edge. I could really use something to help me unwind,” I say breathy as I rub my hands in between my thighs and groan lightly. This boy gulps loudly, nervously adjusting his tie. “W-w-well…We have mojitos.”“No…that’s not what I want…” I say with a husky tone as I look him directly in his eyes, licking my lips while I rub my host’s crotch, groaning slightly more loudly as I feel this meat starting to get hard and strain within the confines of its denim prison.

“Sir! This is inappropriate! I’m going to need to ask you to-”“Shut up and touch it. I know you want to. Your cock can’t lie to me. “SIR. If you don’t stop I’m going to have to-HUH?!” he gasped as I grabbed a hold of his arm and yanked him close to me.He was speechless from the shock as I pulled him onto my lap, keeping him firmly locked in my grip thanks to Peter’s strong muscles as I went to work grinding my tented crotch against his backside and reaching my hand around to begin rubbing his engorging cock. “MMMMmmmmmmpppphhhhhhhhhhmmmmmnnngggggggg” he groaned through Peter’s big hand that was muffling his shouts.

He squealed as I grabbed a firm hold around his rod, stroking and pumping him through his soft uniform pants, breathing hot on his neck as I whispered into his ear. “You’re getting so horny, boy. I can feel you getting hard in my hand. mmmmmm a tasty boy like you is just the refreshment I needed.” I followed by licking up and down his neck, making him gasp as shivers coursed their way up and down his spine. “You liked that didn’t you?” I asked with a chuckle before experimenting and easing up my grip on his mouth.

He took several deep breaths before slowly turning his head to face me. It could have gone either way at this point as I saw the panic and indecision in his eyes. But then the look in his eyes focused in and I knew he has made his decision.

He lunged as he joined his mouth with mine, moaning loudly into my mouth as he wrestled his tongue past my lips and hungrily tasted me. I needed to remind him who the big man was in this steamy moment, so I forced Peter’s tongue into this boy’s mouth, reveling in the pleasurable moans echoing into my mouth as I ferociously tasted my mile high slut. Pulling back, he now had a look of hunger in his eyes. “I-I’ve never done this before at work…”“It’s just the two of us in here. No need to worry about anything.”He looked into my eyes briefly before biting his lip nervously.“Can I…taste it?” He asked with such anticipation in his eyes. I just smirked at him. “You think I’d say no to a hot mouth like yours? Get to work, boy.”I closed my eyes, smiling with satisfaction as this boy crawled down onto his knees, no longer able to suppress his desire as he unbuttoned my jeans and pulled down the zipper. I lifted my butt up to help him as he pulled down my pants and drawers, letting this big fat cock spring out, slapping him lightly in the face as he gawked at my host’s unveiled meat.

I shivered as he immediately went to work, grabbing me with one of his hands, pumping me softly as he wrapped his lips around the head, getting it nice and moist as he swirled his tongue around. My fingers were trembling, and the sensation crashing through my cockhead, down to my groin and down my thighs was so powerful that I had to bite my lip and focus on gripping the armrests just to keep from shouting out. This boy knew what he was doing, and he had just barely gotten started.

I felt the veins on Peter’s muscles expand, letting an intense surge of blood-flow crash through every part of his body. It was a euphoria like no other, and it only intensified as this mile high slut began bobbing his slick mouth up and down, up and down, picking up speed as he kept sucking that meat and swirling his tongue over all of Peter’s most sensitive spots. I cringed and scrunched my face it felt so fucking good, but I didn’t want to make too much noise. At this point though I think he was almost challenging me to give in and admit how good it felt. He finally had his wish as he all of a sudden jolted his head down, swallowing every inch of my meat as he scooped both hands up my shirt and found my sensitive nipples.

My eyes shot wide open as he began deepthroating me with ferocious speed, all while squeezing, twisting, and rubbing all over my massive pecs, and particularly, my tight and hard nipples. My back arched violently as a loud groan finally escaped my lips. I bit my lip though to shut myself up, scrunching my face up again and hyperventilating as this boy kept swallowing my entire length.

I couldn’t have hoped for a better last orgasm in Peter’s body, but I still wanted it to be at least partially on my own terms. Growling as I felt the testosterone levels in Peter’s body rising, I grabbed the boy’s head with both of my hand’s, getting no resistance from him as I began to pull him down onto my cock, harder and even faster than he was already going. Mmmmmmm it felt so satisfying as I used Peter’s strong arms to pull that mouth and tight throat down onto his juicy meat. Such a good throat fuck, but I couldn’t hold my hips back anymore, so it got even more intense. I know I might have been going rough on the boy, but he wasn’t complaining as I started bucking my hips up, thrusting into his mouth and thrusting powerfully down his throat. The boy kept squeezing my pecs and nipples, getting more intense as I added more and more power to my throat fuck. My toes were curling in my shoes as I looked down at this hungry mile high slut, and seeing the desperation in his eyes finally sent me over the edge. Groaning loudly, I slammed his mouth down onto one last powerful cock thrust after what had seemed like an eternity of building pressure in Peter’s massive balls. With that thrust, my pent up load was finally free, releasing stream after stream directly down the hungry throat that was so expertly milking my cock. I shivered as kept yanking his throat down onto each new ribbon of cum, milking out over a dozen shots before the stream finally slowed to mere droplets which we sucked straight out of me with that skilled mouth.

Attention Passengers, Please prepare for landing. We will be arriving in approximately five minutes.

“Damn, sorry boy. I guess I don’t have time to return the favor.”He just smiled adoringly at me though. “No, don’t be sorry. That was-That was amazing! I’ll be thinking about you and this later tonight. This will be on my mind for the next month at the very least!”He gave me one more passionate kiss before he straightened his tie and uniform, giving me a sexy wink as he made the landing preparations, leaving me in my golden orgasmic bliss. He was kind enough to point to my ankles though, reminding me my pants and boxers were still down, leaving my softening meat out for the world to see. I quickly pulled my pants back up as we began the descent.

I hopped in the cab at the airport, unable to contain my grin as I gave the driver the address of Bastian’s Beverly Hills mansion. The cab driver wasn’t particularly talkative, so I sat in eager silence as I mentally prepared for my transfer and mini vacation from Peter’s body.

The passing vistas and palm trees zoom by as I absentmindedly reach my hands underneath my shirt and begin rubbing and feeling Peter’s body. I know I’ll be feeling this body from the other side, but I’ll miss the feeling of ownership and possession. Something about feeling Peter Van der Veen’s abs and squeezing those massive pecs with his own strong hands was immensely satisfying. Taking over strong men and making them my hosts…my vessels…will always be my drug of choice.

“We’re here, Mister,” the taxi driver says, looking at me with an odd expression as I realize I’m still circling Peter’s hard nipples. I swoop my hands out from under Peter’s shirt, unable to help but go a little red in the face as I awkwardly thank and pay the guy. I pull out Peter’s wallet, so comfortable now seeing his ID and associating that image and identity as my own. That’s when you know you’ve found a keeper, when you look at your host’s ID and instinctively think, “Damn, I look hella fine.”

I tipped the guy well to mask the awkwardness and walked over to the front door, suitcases in tow. There was a note on the front door telling me to come on in and meet my new employers in the back. The note said to just keep on following the central corridor until I reached them. Opening the door, I was blown away by the extravagance of this massive and modern mansion.

“What a great place to vacation,” I said aloud to myself in shock as I plopped my bags on the marble floor, closed the door, and began the long walk down the central hallway. I passed by massive living and entertaining rooms, all decked out with expensive art, impeccable decoration, and state of the art technology. The kitchen and dining room was as large as most people’s whole apartments, and I think I walked passed a whole new set of entertainment and party/recreational rooms. It was simply unbelievable, but I got pulled back to reality as I heard light moaning emanating from the last room at the end of the hall.

The moaning was definitely deep, low, and masculine. Judging by the videos I had watched during my research, I knew it was Bastian who was cooing and making those sweet sounds of pleasure. I could hear him faintly egging on what I can only assume was his wife, Maria. That accent was still distinctly German, and thought some people thought it was a little harsh, I shivered from its foreign and exotic appeal. I had never taken over a foreigner before, so I wondered if I would have the joy of speaking with such a German flare. I kept walking cautiously towards the moans, concerned that I was going to interrupt a particularly private and intimate moment. Still, I advanced. That’s one of the great things about Peter’s body. I’m this massive tank of toned muscle, but he is so light on his feet. I barely make a sound as I walk right up to the cracked door and slowly push it open as I walk inside.

“Huh?” I asked aloud as I creaked the door open and saw Bastian, shirtless and laying down on a medical table as his wife performed a spa facial. She was dressed and made up to the nth degree with her pink mini dress, pumps, and full make up while she massaged her husband’s face, working the active ingredients deep into his skin that would help maintain his youth. He clearly found the experience very pleasurable as the sounds coming out of his mouth were almost orgasmic.

“That must be you, Peter,” he said in his sweet German accent and without even opening his eyes.

“We’re just finishing the last step,” Maria said with a smile as she spread the remaining moisture serum down his neck before clicking a button that brought the reclined medical table back up to a chair-like angle.

Bastian finally opened his eyes as he smiled at me, happy to see that he had been able to afford my services. My host was, after all, the most sought out bodyguard in Hollywood.

“Maria, can you give us some time? I need to show him the house and talk about the next three months. Here’s some cash–go buy something pretty,” he said as he casually handed her a thick strap of hundred dollar bills. She was almost giddy with joy as she collected the multi-thousand dollar wad of cash and left to go shop to her heart’s content at her favorite designer stores. “Now, that frees up some time for just us guys,” he said with a cheeky grin as he got up off the table and put his shirt back on.

This was going too perfectly. I tried to suppress my own giddy grin as he began to show me around the house, when like he said, it was just us guys.

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turkleader · 4 years

Text

Final Fantasy VII Remake Demo Spoilers Below

[ooc]

Let’s talk about something that’s been gnawing away at the back of my mind since I first got the chance to play this demo: Stamp.

For those of you who haven’t gotten the chance to play the demo yet, this is a new mascot character that has been introduced with the Remake, a little puppy that wears a round army helmet on his head. We see two posters in the demo’s areas featuring him, and we get a handful of lines of dialogue from Barret comparing Cloud to Stamp.

Now at first I wasn’t certain what Square was getting at with this new addition, but I know Square well enough to know that adding “random” content that wasn’t in the original FFVII isn’t something they’d risk if there wasn’t some reason behind it. My partner and I listened to Barret’s lines, we studied the posters, and an idea began to emerge. Because another thing that’s notably different about the opening portions of the Remake’s demo compared to the original game is... the absolute lack of any mentions of Zack Fair.

So my theory is... what if Stamp is Zack Fair?

Many people who have played Crisis Core remember the line where Angeal compares Zack to a “restless puppy” (during a DMW flashback). It’s become one of the most endearing terms given to Zack’s character. But my reasoning doesn’t stop there. Barret’s comparison of Cloud to Stamp hammers home the relationship between Cloud and this new mascot, to the point where it’s almost overwhelming. And perhaps that’s the entire point, a way to nudge the audience playing the Remake (new and old fans alike) into paying more attention to this than they initially would be inclined to.

Before Entering the Elevator that Leads Down into the Reactor Barret: SOLDIERs may attack on command, but I hear they make good guard dogs too. Bet you've seen a few reactors. So how do we get to the bridge above mako storage? Ain't holding out on me, are you? Stamp scared to bite the hand that fed him? Or is he a loyal little doggie!? [Cloud gets a flash of static and pain, and grabs his head with one hand] Have it your way, mutt. We can do this with you, or we can do this without you. Cloud: [We cannot see Cloud's eyes at any point during these lines of dialogue; is this done on purpose?] Different reactor, different layout. Depends when it was built. Never seen one like this, but I'll manage.

Right Before Planting the Bomb at the Reactor Core Barret: All right. Let's see if little Stamp really can bite the hand that feeds... [He holds out the bomb] Go on. Do the honors. Prove to me you're the man Tifa says you are. That you're one of us. Cloud: Never said I was. I'm just here for the paycheck. Barret: Then do the damn job!

What we can take away from this, at the very least, is that Square wants us to connect Stamp to Cloud, and vice versa. But how do we get from here to Stamp representing Zack?

Part of it, beyond Zack’s “puppy” nickname, and Zack’s experiences with Cloud immediately prior to the events of FFVII (experimentation at Nibelheim, their escape to Midgar, Cloud’s severe mako poisoning, Zack’s death and passing on his “legacy” to Cloud) is the knowledge that many of us (those that have played the game before) have of Cloud’s fractured mental state, his haphazardly pieced together self-identity, mingling the strongest aspects of Zack, the things Cloud admired so much about his friend and closest companion at the end, and the harsher aspects of Cloud himself, still broken and tormented in so many ways by the things done to him and those he cares about (the razing of Nibelheim by his hero, who goes on to murder his mother and horrifically injure his childhood friend, Tifa; the torture he endured for four years at the hands of Hojo; being so close to freedom, only to lose it all at the very end, with Midgar on the horizon...).

It’s fairly common knowledge that the Cloud we meet at the beginning of FFVII isn’t 100% Cloud. And we see hints of that in Cloud’s reaction when Barret yells “Or is he [Cloud] a loyal little doggie!?” at him: the static, the pain, the fact that during Cloud’s reply to Barret we never see Cloud’s eyes once... Then the static and pain returning with the hallucination of the black feather as Cloud plants the bomb at the reactor core, the moment where in the original game Zack speaks to Cloud and says, “Watch out! This isn’t just a reactor!!” Zack, deceased but still able to keep his individual sense of self in the Lifestream, has multiple instances throughout the original game where he speaks to Cloud in this manner, aiding him, nudging him closer and closer to the truth, and helping him in whatever way he can. So it’s very possible that when Barret speaks to Cloud in the Remake’s demo, he’s speaking to Zack, who is watching over Cloud, as well.

But then things get interesting. Specifically because of one poster.

It depicts Stamp on a background filled with fire, carrying another injured puppy on his back. The writing at the bottom reads, “Stamp stands up for his friends!” Now I would argue, by the familiar flaming background, that this is representing Nibelheim. Stamp is Zack, carrying an unconscious and injured puppy, who is Cloud, out of Nibelheim; a depiction of their escape from the burned-down and rebuilt town. The unnamed puppy even has bandages wrapped around the forearm of his front-left leg, much like a certain ex-SOLDIER has bandages that peek just from beneath his bracer on his left arm. The parallels are striking.

“Everyone’s Favorite Series!” -- Final Fantasy? Maybe even referencing Final Fantasy VII specifically, as one of the most popular, if not the most popular, individual game in this long running series?

“The Adventures of Stamp Book 3″ -- Perhaps a hint, that we’ll find out what really happened to Cloud or get more content regarding this scene (the truth behind Nibelheim) in the third installation of this multi-part Remake of Final Fantasy VII? It’s something we won’t know until we get there, but I can’t help but consider it.

This poster alone seems too coincidental to disregard, even if my interpretation won’t end up being completely accurate because of how little we’ve seen of the game so far. But I can’t deny the fact that I’ve made the association between Zack and Stamp, and I’ll be on the lookout for any more clues once the full game is released to see if we can find out more.

We also have this poster, which reads “Mineral Water, Clear Icicle” with Stamp at the bottom-right holding up a bottle of water, and Japanese text that I believe might be Stamp saying, “Oiishi!” or “Delicious!” (If anyone can confirm or deny what Stamp is saying, I’d appreciate it.) Are we supposed to be looking out for something about Zack after we reach Icicle Inn in the coming installations of the Remake? Icicle Inn is where we find out some of the backstory to Aerith’s birth, about what happened between her mother Ifalna and Professor Gast. Are we to expect something else now that specifically concerns Zack? Or is this just a poster to flesh out the world and not something we should be on the lookout for once we get up to that part? Time will tell.

One of the things that does incline me to think that this theory might be on the right track is that recently a video came out on the Official Playstation YouTube channel featuring two of the individuals from Square Enix’s Marketing Team, where they specifically mention to be on the lookout for more instances of Stamp in the Remake. (You can watch the video here, and the approximate time stamp for when they mention the portion I’ve quoted below is at about 10:44-11:34.)

"So interesting thing to call out there. Barret calls Cloud 'Stamp' and we never really explained what that is but he keeps referring to Cloud as a mutt or a dog or a lapdog of Shinra, and that's a new thing that's fleshed out even further. I won't spoil too much, but you can look for Stamp, for more of Stamp as you go through [the game]."

It’s a lot to take in, but it’s the little things that fascinate me. Like my realization only now, after doing all of this digging that all of Cloud’s idle animations (him adjusting his gloves, kicking his boot on the ground to make sure it’s snug, shifting the position of the Buster Sword as it sits on his back) may all be subtle indicators to the fact that Cloud isn’t used to wearing a SOLDIER’s uniform or carrying the weight of the Buster Sword. These things are still foreign to him, things he has to get used to, because he’s never worn these clothes before, never wielded the Buster Sword or worn it for long periods of time.

The tiniest things are there, giving the nod to Zack’s existence, and struggle, and sacrifice for Cloud right before this point in time. Maybe Stamp is just one of the additional ways that Square is making sure the puppy isn’t forgotten.

#Final Fantasy VII Remake #Final Fantasy VII Remake Demo #Cloud Strife #Zack Fair #Stamp (FF7R)#FFVIIR #FFVIIR Demo #.tmunspeech #.ffviirthoughts #.obccloud #.obcstamp #.obczack

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

Neighbors: Shawn x Plus Size Reader Chapter 13

a/n: Hi there. This is going to be good. I promise. Take some deep breaths. Relax a little. Let yourself fall into it. There’s a lot of build up here but it will all make sense in a little while. I promise. If you hate it that’s cool, you can come yell at me. I’ll understand. But I love you? If you like it enough to want to buy me a ko-fi I’d love you forever!

Trigger Warnings: details of sex, anxiety attack

*y/n’s point of view*

Going home is good for a while. You start a huge campaign with Roger’s Stadium to do their new branding. It’s kind of Shawn adjacent, but distant enough that no one brings it up that your boyfriend just happened to sell out a show there. You got to pick someone to help do the low-level research and you quickly paired up with Stu. It meant late nights in the office with your best friend doing what you did best. Marketing was your thing. Understanding different demographics of people and what got through to them best was something that you’d never had to be taught in the classroom. It came naturally. So communicating your product, connecting with people was just fun for you. It just so happened to come with a lovely commission on the side.

You meet with Gina, to confirm and solidify your pitch, but also apparently for a wellness check. After a lifetime of male bosses, you’d never once had one of those, but the second you sat down in her office she quickly flipped the lid on your ipad and made you talk about yourself instead.

“How are you?” She asked.

Your eyes widened slightly. “I...I’m good. How are you?”

“I’m okay,” She chuckled. “You’re used to jumping right into things, aye? Is that it?”

“I guess. Most bosses usually just want me to do the job and move on.”

“Ah. Then this should be a lovely change of pace for you. I have no interest in what you do professionally if you’re not doing okay holistically. The two are deeply intertwined. I’m not saying we’re going to be best friends. In fact we probably shouldn’t but, if at no other point in your day is someone asking you how you’ve been, let that be what your time with me looks like, okay?”

“Okay.” You murmured letting your shoulders relax slightly. “Okay.”

“So I ask you again, how are you doing y/n?”

“Things are good, actually. Stu and I work so well together that sometimes I can’t tell when our friendship stops and when the work begins. We just understand each other’s minds in a really productive way, so it’s really nice to be able to work together.”

She gave you that smile again that said you were doing something wrong causing you to pause again.

“What?”

“I guess I’m just curious how often when someone asks you how you’re doing you immediately start talking about work.”

You signed, hands twisted up in your lap as you struggled to maintain eye contact with her.

“Yea well...There’s not really much going on for me outside of work right now so?”

“Really? What about that famous boyfriend of yours everyone’s always yapping about?”

You snorted. “Famous boyfriend is getting ready for his very famous tour in England at the moment.”

“England, aye? That’s where you flew out to a few weeks ago right?”

“Yea. We uh had a fight that was bit my fault, so I went to apologize and smooth things over. He’ll be heading for Amsterdam come March though.”

She nodded. “That’s a lot for you to handle, I’m guessing. You must fly a lot to go see him? That’s hard considering your job here.”

You peered down at your lap again.

“This is actually the first time we’re doing the whole long term long distance thing. I’m sure we’ll be fine. It’s all a learning curve though. I uh I was planning on going to Amsterdam for the first two shows but that will probably be the last time I leave for at least a few months. I won’t see him for most of the year.”

“Well, shit. That just sucks.”

You smiled. “Yea, little bit. But he says he’ll fly back as often as he can. And with social media and technology now a days I can still talk to him for like hours. We’ll be okay. The hardest part is just keeping myself busy, and thankfully I’m pretty good at that.”

“What about family and friends?”

“Family is...complicated. Friends is Stu and his boyfriend Brian. Most of the people in the office are much older than me though, and we just don’t really care about the same things. I’m good though, I’ve always been the kind of person to go out and do whatever makes me happy. I don’t need a bunch of people around for that.”

She laughed again. “Well isn’t that nice to know. I suppose you can show me your pitch now.”

She loves it. And it’s incredibly validating, and takes a lot of stress of your shoulders. Now all that was left to do was to present the real thing and hope that they liked your design. It seemed like a cause for celebration. So you and Stu made plans to get all gussied up, go out to a fancy dinner, and get wine drunk together before eight pm. You tried to give Shawn a call, he knew how stressed you’d been about it after all, but it went to voicemail. So, you tucked your phone in your purse and went out to have a good fucking time.

“To being in our mid-twenties and finally hitting the fucking glow up! We are in our prime motherfucker!” Stu grinned cheersing his glass against yours.

You snorted. “We sure fucking are. When Ari said it feels so good to be so young and so successful, bitch was not lying.”

“Ugh. I wanna die and come back as that song. I thought that the thing I hated you most for was getting to see Shawn Mendes’ dick in person, but I think it’s that you have the ability to meet my fairy godmother, Ariana Grande, and there’s just nothing I can do about it.”

You peered over at your best friend over the rim of your glass with raised eyebrows.

“Stu...Are you sexually attracted to my boyfriend?”

His eyes widened slightly and his lips parted like a goldfish flopping on a dry surface begging for water. The idiot.

“To be fair...The entire office wants to fuck your boyfriend. Not just me!”

“Wow...That does not make me feel any better you sleez!” You chortled. “You’re my best friend!”

“It’s not like I would pursue it! Besides, Shawn Mendes was on our hall pass list far before you two were playing footsie behind my back.”

“I beg your pardon? And stop calling him by his full name, it gives me the creeps.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “The minute that man figured out how to put on a suit, Brian told me straight up if he ever found out Shawn went the other way, he would leave my ass in a heartbeat.”

“Jesus. So the whole world wants to screw my boyfriend?”

“Little bit, babes. But, you’re the only one who gets to! Don’t worry about the rest of us horny idiots.” He smiled.

“Have I ever told you how good you are at consoling me?”

“No.”

“Good.” You smirked. “You suck at it.”

He swatted at you playfully allowing both of you some time to look over your menus. At least that’s what you thought you were doing. It only took a few minutes of not so subtle stares for you to get the hint. The more you got used to being with Shawn the more you picked up on stuff like that.

“What is it now, Stu?” You sighed plopping your menu down.

“Well...Don’t take this the wrong way, because I completely don’t mean it in a predatory, creepy one at all but...What’s the dick like?”

“Oh god.”

He sighed. “We used to talk about all our hookups! I just want to know that my bestie is getting the dicking down that she deserves. It just so happens that this is internationally famous dick.”

Your best friend was a complete and total dumbass. But, you loved him. And you loved Shawn. And quite honestly not getting to share your experiences with someone was tough. It was hard because you knew Stu might not be able to relate to some of the things you were now experiencing as a result of your relationship, but he was also the person you went to for just about everything and vice versa. Also...sometimes a girl needs to gloat.

You peer around the restaurant as if a pap or one of Shawn’s fans might be lurking around every corner. (Sometimes, it felt like they were.) Stu leaned in in his nosey ass manner

“So like...it’s the best dick I’ve ever had in my life.” You whispered.

“Shut the fuck up.”

You whined dramatically. “I wish I was kidding. The whole hour and a half shows every night of the week translates so well into the bedroom. His stamina is unlike anything I’ve ever seen. His breath control allows him to go down on me for insane amounts of time. I’m talking like the bastard has evolved gills or some shit!”

Stu cracked up laughing and clanked his glass happily against yours.

“To evolving gills, bitch!”

You snorted happily and cheers’d with him again.

“Wait Stu, something happened.” You murmured moving closer in your seat to lean across the table.

“What? What?”

“So I went to the UK obviously to make up for things and I found this plus-size lingerie store while I was there so I thought it might get his mind off things if we like had some fun or whatever.”

“Okay….AND?”

“And so we’re doing...you know, it. And out of nowhere this dominant side of him comes out that honest to god made me wetter than the ocean seas.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “What the hell does that mean? What did he do?”

You bit your lip taking another gander around the restaurant only for him to swat at you about getting shy just as you were getting to the good part.

“I was somewhat bent over, I guess you could say.”

“Great so you were doing doggy style, get to the kinky shit, sis.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know… It just like started to feel really good and I had a feeling that I was going to…”

“Cum?”

You shook your head softly.

He gasped. “Squirt?”

You nodded.

“Oh. My. God. He’s really dicking you to explosion.”

“Yes. That is accurate. Anyway, I’ve never done that while he was in me before so I guess I started pushing against his hips because it felt so good? And he pulled my arms behind my back randomly and literally fucked me through it. Even when I was screaming louder than I’ve ever screamed before. He said, and I quote: ‘Baby, just let me give it to you. Let me make you feel good like only I can.’ and I just...holy shit Stu it was the best orgasm of my life.”

“You memorized a quote during sex? That is the biggest dick energy I’ve ever heard in my life. I have to go home and now slap my boyfriend because you’ve told me that story. I hope you’re satisfied, ruining other people's relationships. Holy shit, y/n.”

You licked at your lips and smile up at the sky as if God had something to do with it and not your wonderfully aggressive boyfriend.

“Yea. I know.” you sighed dreamily. “I love him.”

Meanwhile…

*Shawn’s point of view*

“What’s your problem? Y/n not texting you back?” Brian asked as Shawn tossed his phone back onto the couch.

He rolled his eyes. “No. But I am a perfectly grown adult who doesn’t need his girlfriend’s constant validation to feel secure in our relationship, Brian!”

“That what the self-help books telling you, bud?”

Brian was walking past after having turned the tv on and he very purposely tripped him. Jackass.

“Is you not getting to blow your load at least three times a day gonna make you an asshole this whole entire tour?”

He reached for a pillow and quickly socked his best friend in the face.

“Why are you such a dickhead, dickhead?!” He snorted. “There’s nothing I can do about having an incredible sex life. That is not my fault!”

“Incredible sex life, my ass!”

He put his hand over his heart and gave him the most sincere face he could offer.

“Bri...it’s a great fuckin’ sex life. Best of my whole life.”

“What does she shoot beams of light out her pussy or something?”

“This is why women hate our whole gender by the way. No, jackass, but she might as well. She is soft and passionate and beautiful and...vocal. Everytime I think I’m in control she does something to put me in my place. It’s wild. She’s fuckin wild.” He sighed collapsing back against the couch. “God, she’s perfect, man.”

Sure, he missed her. He always missed her. But, he also just appreciated everything about her. And talking about their love life wasn’t out of disrespect at all. It was more like bragging out of love for everything that they were together. And also because when it came to sex...they were kind of incredibly good at it.

“You two fuck like bunny rabbits. I’d almost be impressed if it wasn’t a complete inconvenience ninety nine percent of the time.”

Shawn rolled his eyes. “How is our love making an inconvenience to you, oh poor wonderful Brian?!”

“Oh don’t even get me started! Exhibit A, you invite all of us over to your apartment for a party in December. We’re supposed to get incredibly hammered and play mario kart. Not even forty-five minutes into the damn thing, you two assholes disappear into the bedroom, WITH the game system I might add, with the door locked for over an hour. The only reason you even came back out was because y/n wanted more tequila!”

“Hmm...that was a beautiful night. She sounds like a symphony when she cums.” He sighed to himself.

“Gross. Exhibit B! We go to the after party for the billboard awards. It’s supposed to be a good fuckin’ time for everyone--”

“Hey! We had a good fuckin’ time that night! We shared a blunt with Post Malone, Alessia, and fucking Ariana Grande. What could you possibly have to complain about?!”

“Why yes Shawn, that we did. But do you remember what happened after that?” He paused for the briefest of moments before very quickly continuing on. “Y/n for some reason found you smoking to be the hottest thing in the world and decided that she had to have you right then and there. You two left the fucking party and Alessia and I had to uber back to the hotel.”

“Well that is...yea I don’t really have an excuse for that one. Not our best moment. But trust me you didn’t want to be in that car anyway, I ripped her dress that night. It was a bit of a shit show. The only reason the paps didn’t get us was because we penguin waddled inside to hide it.”

“The moral of the story is, as happy as I am that you guys are trying to set an olympic record for fucking, you both suck!”

“You’ve got me there. We both suck...incredibly well I might add.”

He hit him with a pillow and left the room. What are best friends for anyway?

*y/n’s point of view*

“How are things going with Bry?” You asked as Stu worked to pack their bowl.

What better way to celebrate their wonderful friendship date, then ending it with a little weed?

He lit the bowl and took a deep hit, letting it sit in his lungs as he handed it over.

Stu groaned. “They’d be fine if he would get his shit together and propose to me already.”

You took a hit of your own and laughed.

“If you want to marry him so much, why don’t you propose?”

“I’m the one who asked him out in the first place! I’m the one who single handedly kept our relationship going through college. I told him point blank that he needed to propose and for some reason, five years later I’m still missing a ring on my finger!”

“Do you want me to talk to him? Give him the hint?”

He rolled his eyes. “As wonderful as that sounds, no. I want him to want to be with me. I just want him to take a little initiative ya know?”

You each took another hit of the bowl and leaned against each other and the high took over.

“I get it. You want to feel confident in your future. You wanna know he’s gonna be there when you need him. That’s a valid feeling.” You assured him.

“We’ve just been together for so long. And most of the time we are so good together. We communicate well, we have fun together. I just want to know that we’re both feeling the same things. Sometimes he seems so sure that he just thinks we don’t need to talk about it at all.”

“Damn. I think Shawn and I might be the opposite. I think all he wants is for me to talk more.”

Stu chuckled. “No shit. It took me getting you high in my college dorm for you to even tell me anything even remotely personal about yourself. Shawn’s sappy ass probably thinks it’s like talking to a wall.”

“Very funny asshole. I can’t help it okay? I’m the baby of four kids. By the time I was growing up, no one had time to listen to me whine and complain about shit. Shawn just...he understands all of his emotions so well, and he spends so much of his life reflecting on everything no matter how busy he is. I’m trying though. I know it’s necessary, It’s just hard.”

“Do you think you two will be okay with all the touring?” He asked.

Wasn’t that just the million dollar question? You didn’t know how to explain that when you were together it seemed like you could take on the world, like you could do anything together, but that when you were apart you’d never felt weaker. It all feel so sappy and so high school. Not being able to live on your own and per your own person? You wanted to be better than that. And admitting anything else out loud, even to Stu, shook the very foundation of the persona you were trying to force yourself to be.

“Shawn thinks we will be.” You mumbled.

“I didn’t ask what Shawn thinks. I’m your best friend, you can tell me of all people.”

“It’s just harder when we’re apart. So, I fly into whatever country he’s in and we fuck and we go out to dinner and maybe we get high because that’s all there is when you’re together for two or three days. And it’s not until I come back home that I even realize it. Cause when we’re together, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I could honestly sit in one of those green rooms and just watch him all day, and I’d be happy. I love him that much. But when I get some distance, when I’m back home I realize just how little there is. How little there will be for the rest of the year. I just...I guess I’m hoping I can hold on. Because when I’m with him? It’s the greatest pleasure I’ve ever known.”

“Holy shit babes...That’s deep. C’mere.”

He wrapped his arm loosely around you. You passed the bowl back and forth a few more times until the world grew fuzzy and calm and you were each happier for it. It was a good way to end the night.

***

It’s four in the afternoon. You have a meeting in fifteen minutes to go over revenue for the department. These meetings always made you super anxious. You were the only female senior executive, so any conversation you had about revenue was always in a room full of men. It didn’t help that a lot of the assholes in the office didn’t like the way you were offered the job and definitely held a grudge. You were always dead set on having the best numbers, so no one could say shit. Your stomach was tied up in knots and you just wanted to get it over with, so you could go home and drink a glass--or three--of wine. You’d been stressed about it all week, and it only made it worse that you had started sleeping in Shawn’s apartment because the smell of his sheets was sometimes the only thing that could lull you into sleep only for the smell to eventually fade away. There was tension in your neck and in your shoulders from the tossing and turning, and you just needed the week to be over.

Your phone started to vibrate on your desk and you almost chucked it at the wall. When you saw that it was Shawn wanting to facetime you honestly weren’t sure if that made it better or worse. But, Shawn tended to get anxious when you didn’t answer, so you took a deep breath and opened the phone.

“Babe!” He smiled immediately as his image came slowly into focus.

He must’ve been walking somewhere with the team cause he wasn’t looking at his phone right away. You didn’t really have time for this.

“Hey Shawn. Look, what is it? I’m uh I’m kinda busy.”

“Wait just one sec.” He scrambled a little with the phone before he was finally staring at you, wild curls and beautiful brown eyes to boot. “What’s wrong? You sound stressed.”

“I am stressed. I have a meeting in ten, Shawn; what can I do for you?”

He frowned. “I don’t need you to do anything for me. I just wanted to see you. Hey Jake, I’m gonna go sit for a minute alone alright? I’ll be back.”

“No, Shawn don’t--” But he was already walking away from the group.

“What’s going on, right now? Talk to me.”

Your initial instinct was to tell him nothing was going on, that you didn’t want to talk, you just wanted to muscle through. But you couldn’t help but remember your conversation with Stu a few days ago. It felt hypocritical to say you were trying to communicate if every time your boyfriend asked you to communicate you shut down.

You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger.

“I have a meeting, okay? That’s all” You mumbled feeling like an incessant toddler.

He nodded. “Okay, you have a meeting. You’ve told me that. You’ve got a meeting that’s stressing you out. You look flustered. What else is going on?”

“Nothing else is going on. I’m just really stressed at the moment.”

He sighed. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to fight me on this. I only want to help you. You’re breathing is uneven. Are you feeling anxious right now?”

“I--I don’t know. Yea, sure, I feel anxious.”

“How long have you felt anxious, honey?”

“Shawn, what the hell does this have to do with anything?!” you snapped the irritation getting to you.

“I think you might be having an anxiety attack. Try and take a deep breath with me. I know you’re feeling upset, but let’s just breathe for a little bit.”

“An anxiety attack? Shawn what--”

“Hush. Just fucking listen to me okay?”

You stumbled into silence and watched as your boyfriend did his best to calm you down. He had you lean the phone against your desk so that you could place one hand over your stomach and the other over your heart. He had you use your stomach as a guide to let your lungs fill with air, breathing slowly and letting the tension in your back and neck to ease out. His voice was low, calm, and incredibly soothing in your ear. You may have offered him comfort before, but this was something new entirely. At least Shawn could tell when he needed help. You were so delusional about your own wellbeing that you hadn’t even been aware you needed it. It wasn’t until you felt your heart rate calm and your shoulders drop that you felt infinitely better. With this relief came a rather odd rush of sadness that left you crying in the middle of your office in broad daylight.

“Hey,” He cooed face moving closer to his screen. “Why are you crying, y/n?”

“I don’t even fucking know.” You sighed trying to catch the tears before they fall. “I really thought I was fine, Shawn. I thought I was okay.”

“That’s alright. That’s why I’m here. To catch the things you let slip. You do the exact same thing for me all of this time. It’s okay to lean on me once in a while, you know?”

You nodded softly with a sniffle. “I really do have to go to my meeting though.”

“Go. Call me when you get home from work okay? Take a shower, relax a little bit. I’m a few hours ahead of you here, but just call and I’ll be there. We can talk through it.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll do that.” You mumbled.

“You’re gonna do great, sweetie. I love you so much, okay?”

“I love you too. I’ll talk to you later.”

*four hours later*

“Is that my bed?” Shawn asked leaning back with an arm behind his head with abs on full display.

Ugh.

You nodded. “I’ve been sleeping here a little better lately...Is that okay?”

“Yea! Of course it is. Nothing makes me happier than you sleeping there. That spaces is yours too. That’s why I gave you the key to begin with.”

“Okay.” You murmured not being able to hide the smile that his words brought to your face. “You could probably send me a sweatshirt or something that you’ve worn recently though. The sheets hardly even smell like you anymore.”

He grinned. “I’d love to sweetheart. It’s just that by the time something could get to you from Amsterdam, I think you might actually have already flown to Amsterdam. I’ll be sure to send you back with plenty of material.”

“Good.”

“So...you ready to talk about it?”

“Ugh, I am surprised you're not a licensed therapist with how much you want me to talk about my feelings.” you whined. “How did you even know it was an anxiety attack?”

“I just remembered when I was going through my panic attacks at first, that I didn’t even know what they were called. The doctor said these two words, panic attack and anxiety attack, and I didn’t really know the difference. They sort of sound the same. But you know how like when it gets really bad for me it’s like...super quick? Like one second I’m just thinking about something bad and then the next I can’t see my way out of it?”

“Yea. That’s usually when we start breathing together.”

He smiled. “Exactly. I guess anxiety attacks can be a little slower. My doctor said they can actually happen over a period of days. It’s what makes them harder to detect, but it can also make them much harder on the body. It’s like thinking about something until it consumes you. Not being able to sleep, irritability--even at very lovable and cuddly boyfriends, muscle tension. You seemed to check a lot of boxes, honey.”

“I’m sure loveable and cuddly boyfriends was right in the symptom description, aye?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“You’re digging.”

“I am trying to take an ounce of burden off your back, and you are making it incredibly difficult.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath telling yourself to stop being such a little bitch. He was there. He wasn’t going to leave. You could trust him.

“It’s okay to talk to me, y/n. I’m not going to hurt you.” He murmured.

You groaned. “I know. I know.”

“It’s just that...if it were anyone else I’d say that you should find someone to talk to, anyone to talk to but I . . .I’m supposed to be your person. You’re my person and I just--I don’t know y/n, how do I help you through this if you won’t let me?”

“I’m trying Shawn. I swear I am.”

“Hey I know. And I’m trying to be understanding of how hard it is for you. But, I’m also trying to help. I’m gonna need you to at least meet me halfway.”

You nodded sullenly, fingers bunching up in the blankets at the thought of failing him, of not being able to be what he needed.

Shawn sighed. “It’s uh...it’s getting pretty late here. Let’s just talk tomorrow, yea?”

You peered at him through the phone unable to discern how deep of a situation this was from halfway across the world.

“Are you angry with me?”

“N--No. Honey, I’m not angry. I’m just...tired. I’ll call you when it’s morning for you okay?”

“Okay. I love you, Shawn.”

“I love you too. Get some sleep.”

That was certainly easier said than done.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s in the middle of a meeting when his phone starts to buzz on the table. And he can’t help but reach for it just in case it’s y/n. It is.

y/n: so I couldn’t sleep last night. Surprise. And I just kept thinking about everything that you said, and it made feel really shitty.

y/n: not to say that you made me feel shitty just that that’s how I was feeling

y/n: anyway. I couldn’t sleep, so I tried to think about how I feel and I tried to write it down. I thought I could share it with you. Idk if it’ll help at all I just don’t want to keep letting you down.

y/n: so check your email if you have time. I love you. K. Bye.

And of course the rest of his meeting is absolutely useless. Of course all he can think about is her, about what she might be thinking, about what she might be feeling. And there’s a much bigger part of him than he’d like to admit, that’s wants nothing more than to fly home and cuddle the hell out of her until she gets some rest. The distance between the two of them felt heavier than ever.

“You’ve got forty-five minutes for lunch. Then we’re at the venue for run throughs. Final creative meeting for tour outfits after okay?” Andrew ordered.

Shawn nodded already in search of his laptop.

“Can you have Jake bring me something for the drive? I’m not gonna have time for anything else.”

“Why not?”

“Something is wrong with y/n. I need to check in okay?”

He was so unwilling to focus on anything other than y/n that if Andrew had anything else to say, he didn’t notice. He set up his laptop and found a space to sit in the quiet and read.

So...This is weird. I haven’t written anything like this since my diary in the eighth grade. I just um am tired a lot lately. I don’t think it’s work because I love what I do so much. I guess that’s not great either because I just keep working even when I’m exhausted. And it’s not you. Jesus, it most certainly is not you. I keep thinking that my love for is going to plateau or something, but it never does. It just keeps growing infinitely. I’m not sure if it’s the distance between us at the moment. When I first got home it actually felt good to get back into my routine. I think it’s not until I can’t sleep that I roll over and see you aren’t there that it hits me. It’d just so odd for me Shawn. I want to hold you and talk to you and I can’t because you’re not here. And there isn’t anything that either of us can do about it. I’m not used to there not being a solution. I’ve always been so good at solving things, that now that I can’t I feel like a waste of space. And I know that if I told you you’d tell me to call you but you’re six hours ahead of me right now. Everytime we talk it feels like I’m keeping you from something more important, and I don’t want to do that. I want you to be happy and to tour and have all the success in the world. I think also, and this is just me being honest with myself, even with the people I’ve loved most in my life I haven’t always had my needs prioritized. My mom. My brothers. My dad. So I really try to take care of myself and prioritize myself. I never learned how to let someone else do it for me, because every time I tried I got let down. Your so endlessly kind to me. And you love me like i’ve never been loved before. Me not letting you in when I’m struggling is not malicious it’s just innate. I’m trying to unlearn these things and it’s much harder to do when I don’t even realize that I’m doing them. I’m sorry if I upset you. I’m sorry that you stayed up for me last night only to be disappointed. You mean more to me than a hundred of these pages could explain. I know I keep asking for time, for some leeway, and maybe your getting sick of that. I guess I’m sorry for that too. I promise you it’ll be different, if you let me try. I want to try. I love you enough to do that for us.

He sits with it for a while. There’s a feeling in his chest that he’s never had with y/n before and then there’s another feeling into response to it. He gets out the app on his phone and meditates for a while because he just doesn’t know what it is at first. And it isn’t until after he’s breathed for twenty minutes and they’re in the car on the way to his next meeting that he gets this overwhelming wave of deja vu. It’s so visceral that he feels himself become sixteen again. He watches himself get off the plan in Toronto and drive to his first girlfriend’s house. He watches him explain to her that he’s got to go away and live his dream, and that them being together is only going to hurt her, that it would kill him to keep hurting her. This idea that...it doesn’t matter how much we love each other, it’s never gonna matter, because all I’m ever gonna do it hurt you. And if I love you, if I truly and genuinely love you, then isn’t the greatest act of love I could ever show you to let you go?

It fills him with anger. Anger because this was meant to be different. In hindsight it makes him feel like a child who had been shouting at the top of his lungs that he knew something that he so clearly didn’t. Maybe Andrew was right. Maybe Brian had gotten annoyed for a legitimate reason. Maybe their love wasn’t what he thought it was. Or, even worse, maybe there love was everything it felt like. Maybe it was larger than the two of them, maybe it was complex and beautiful and wonderful. But, maybe that only meant it would consume them in the end.

After that there’s nothing but sorrow. Because his thread, his being, his life was so deeply intertwined with her’s that he could see no way out, couldn’t imagine not being with her.

For the first time in a long time he was completely at a loss. And it seemed as though he had opened up a can of worms that was only going to hurt them in the end. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

Taglist: @kitykatnumber @lou-and-me @ourlittleshawnie @mutuallynotmutual @wanderingmendes @peacedolantwins2 @chels-nyc @justbeingoceana @hayyitsfayy @claredolphinbear24 @september-lace @literallyshawn @mchutchmendes @liliane106 @iloveshawnieboi @samwillllson @illloveyouforever1 @grittyisaho

#shawn mendes #Shawn mendes fanfic #Shawn mendes fic #Shawn mendes fanfiction #Shawn mendes fluff #Shawn mendes angst #Shawn mendes au #Shawn mendes one shot #shawn mendes smut #Shawn mendes series #Shawn mendes blurb #Shawn mendes x you #Shawn mendes x y/n #Shawn mendes x reader #Shawn mendes x fat reader #Shawn mendes x thick reader #neighbors fic

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popatochisssp · 5 years

Text

Fur a Good Time, Call... 11/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus Chapter Warnings: mild dissociative episode

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

Stumble

Ahh, the best and worst part of your job.

“Careful, sweetheart,” you chuckle, “Princess is a big girl and she’s really excited, so don’t let go, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t,” Andrea assured you, holding tight to the leash with her little hand.

It was a truly adorable sight to see, the bright-eyed little girl with a million-watt smile and curly, grade-school pigtails hugging the neck of a dog twice her size.

You weren’t worried about the size difference.

Princess had been with you for a year and you (almost) couldn’t think of a sweeter, gentler dog, no matter how loud her whiny barks were or how ‘mean’ she looked.

Somebody had finally come in who agreed: Andrea latched onto the pit bull within minutes of walking into the shelter and absolutely insisted she was the one—they could both be princesses, together!

Your heart may have melted, just a teeny tiny bit, when she’d said that, and since her mother was now up at the front desk with you filling out the adoption form, you think you’re not the only one.

Delilah dutifully jots down her information with her neatly manicured hand. The sharply dressed lady had honestly intimidated you a little at first, but when she had smiled down at her daughter and explained that they’d come in to find Andrea’s first doggy, your nerves had settled.

“This’ll be good for her,” she says to you, almost absently. “She’s been wanting a friend.”

“Princess, too,” you agree. “I bet they’ll be besties in a week.”

Delilah chuckles. “Aren’t they already?”

Looking at the two of them now—the hugs and face-licks and the tappa-tappa-tappa of excited claws on the tile—you figure she’s probably right on the money.

Watching the slightly bigger family walk out of the shelter, you barely even feel the pang of missing Princess, knowing she’s going off to a great home and a great life.

…But the pang is still there.

You pull out your phone and quickly send off a text, hoping to alleviate the feeling.

You: Hey, I miss our son, send me a pic.

Sans doesn’t keep you waiting for long.

PUNbelievable: [IMG-54]

The picture makes you smile.

Buddy’s handsome face takes up your screen, his blue eyes wide and sad-looking.

He only ever makes that face when he’s angling for food and trying to look extra cute. It has an embarrassing success rate with you, and you’ve caught Sans giving in more than once, so you know it’s not something Buddy’s going to stop doing anytime soon.

The longer you look at the picture, though, the more you realize…

You’ve seen it before

That’s kinda surprising. Sans almost always sends you new ones, candids of whatever your boy happened to be doing at the time you asked.

Then again…

You: Can’t even be bothered to go find the dog on your day off?

Sans got a lot of days off since he wasn’t…y’know, actually employed. He always seemed to use them well, though, for sleeping in or watching a ton of TV.

Naturally, you weren’t about to judge. That was pretty much how you spent your days off on the…very, very rare occasion you took them.

You made sure to tack a winky face onto your text, just in case Sans thought you were mad at him or something.

PUNbelievable: nah sleeping

PUNbelievable: sorry

You smile and add a kissy face to your reply.

You: Don’t let me keep you from your important business! See you later!

PUNbelievable: k

You put your phone away and get back to work.

You’re not sure why you feel weird about it.

You still feel weird almost an hour later.

You’ve been granted the great privilege of socializing (read: playing with) a whole litter of kittens while their formerly stray, now spayed mom watches you cautiously. You’re literally covered in adorable, fluffy babies who leap and chirp and fall all over themselves when you shake feathery toys for them and it’s cute beyond words, it really is!

But…you’re distracted.

“I’m being dumb, aren’t I?” you ask the poofy little angel perched on your knee.

He looks at you with his big beautiful eyes and mews, long and high-pitched.

You sigh. “Yeah, I’m being dumb.”

You knew you were.

It was only a text: tone was notoriously impossible to read through text, so getting bent out of shape over one was just…unnecessary.

“Sans just texts like that sometimes,” you told the kitten. “It doesn’t mean anything’s wrong.”

The kitten doesn’t even look up this time, busy kneading at your leg with his sharp little claws, but you think you’re reassuring yourself a little.

Sans does just sort of…text that way sometimes. No punctuation, short words, clipped answers, you’ve gotten it from him before.

Maybe not…since you started dating…but it wasn’t like it was some new thing, either.

It was hardly some sort of sign that Sans was annoyed at you or…or suddenly disinterested or something.

The very thought made you laugh a little.

As much as you still didn’t quite understand what Sans liked about you, he’d made it pretty clear by now that he did like you, kind of a lot. The hugs and cuddles and nuzzles you exchanged near-constantly were proof of that.

You felt the same way about him, and even though you were now keenly feeling your skeleton’s absence, you also felt a little better.

“He’s just sleeping in,” you decide. “I’ll text him again later when he’s actually awake.”

You shift, moving the hand that’s holding the cat toy and about six kittens try to pounce on it at once. Every single one of them misses, colliding with each other in a flurry of protesting peeps and wiggles.

Stars, now this is what you’re supposed to be focusing on!

You get your phone back out and start recording the play session. Best case scenario, you’ve got something ultra-cute to put up on the shelter’s website, and worst case scenario, you’ve got something fun to send to your two favorite skeletons later.

Only a minute and a half of video ends up being taken. You stop the recording when another text pops up on your screen.

PUNbelievable: i lied

You’re frowning, sitting up so fast that you actually topple a kitten over and it mews at you plaintively.

You scoop it back up and instinctively apologize to it, and by the time you look back, you have another message…and another, and another.

PUNbelievable: not sleeping, bad day

PUNbelievable: didn’t want you to worry

PUNbelievable: shouldn’t lie though

PUNbelievable: sorry

…So…you weren’t being dumb.

You’re not sure if that makes you feel better or worse.

You: Are you okay?

PUNbelievable: sure

Well, that’s not a very comforting answer.

You’re actually a little startled by how powerful the sudden urge to drop everything and go find Sans is.

It makes you feel kinda silly again. He’s your boyfriend, but he’s a grown skeleton, it’s not like you need to check up on him…

…but you want to.

You want to go check on him and make sure he’s okay, even if you don’t need to.

It’s what Sans would do if you were the one having a bad day.

That’s probably why, in spite of the fact that you have about a dozen other actually work-related things you could be doing right now, you herd the kittens and their mom back to where they belong and go looking for your manager.

You find her in the back, doing paperwork that looks like payroll. She greets you, which you return a little hesitantly.

Don’t pussyfoot, you scold yourself.

The thought only reminds you how much you want to be with Sans right now: you’re still covered in cat hair and a joke about that would’ve killed.

“Hey, uh…I was wondering if it’d cause any problems if I left a little early today. Like…like a half-day?”

Your manager frowns, looking concerned. “Is everything alright?”

“Oh, no, yeah, it’s…everything’s fine,” you’re quick to assure her. “I just…there was something kind of personal that I wanted to…check on.” The excuse sounded even lamer out loud than it did in your head, and you resist the urge to wince. “It’s not an emergency, I can stay if you need me, it’s not—”

“Would this be a skeleton sort of ‘personal’?”

You freeze like a deer in the headlights at the sly look on her face.

“Uh…I…it might be…?”

Your relationship with Sans wasn’t a secret, but you hadn’t exactly advertised it either.

Or…maybe you had?

The two of you were still new and you could get kinda…kissy. You were under no illusion that that was anything even remotely approaching subtle.

But it’s also just now occurring to you that you never looked up any rules in regards to workplace romances. You weren’t exactly coworkers, Sans was just a really dedicated volunteer, but that was such a technicality.

Were either of you in trouble…?

Your manager laughs in your face. “Oh god, you look so nervous! Relax, you’re fine.”

……Phew.

“I knew you two would work well together,” she says. “I can’t say I knew you’d work that well together, but I’m not surprised either. You’re a good fit.”

Oh. This is awkward.

You feel your face heat and almost wish you were in trouble.

“Thanks,” you say curtly, eyes glued to the floor.

Your manager seems perfectly aware of your embarrassment and smiles indulgently. “Look, you do a lot of good work around here and that hasn’t changed, bony boyfriend or no. We all appreciate it, but you’re allowed to do things for yourself sometimes, too.”

You look up a little hopefully. “So…?”

“You’ve still got a ridiculous amount of paid time racked up and we’ll survive around here for half a day without you. Go smooch a skeleton. Next time you want to play hooky, though,” she adds, “let me know a little sooner?”

“Right. I will. Yes.” You turn to leave, almost forgetting to say, “Thanks!”

If she says something in reply, you don’t hear it.

You’ve got Sans on the brain and you aren’t going to feel right until you see him.

The brothers’ house is quiet when you get there and let yourself in.

You know Papyrus’ routine these days almost as well as you know your own, and you know he’s got a full class schedule today without much time in between. He isn’t home and won’t be until pretty late, but Sans and Buddy are here.

Or they should be, anyway. You don’t get an answer from either when you announce yourself and a quick peek into the backyard shows it’s empty, so you head upstairs.

Buddy’s fluffy black and white head lifts from the floor as soon as you reach the top, his ears perked and his tail slowly wagging at the sight of you.

“Hey, there you are, Buddy.”

His tail wags faster. You notice he’s laying down right in front of a door and think you have your answer about where Sans is.

“You want in?” you ask, walking over. “You wanna see Sans with me?”

Buddy springs to his feet, looking up at the round doorknob—an impassable barrier to his pawed self.

Well, what was the point of opposable thumbs if not to let dogs into rooms?

You turn the knob and no sooner is the door open than Buddy’s scampering inside, taking a running leap up onto Sans’ bed.

Sans is there, too, placidly sitting on the edge of the mattress and you smile to finally be able to see him for yourself.

You hope you’re not being clingy or weird coming over unannounced like this.

You just…really wanted to see him.

He looks alright, at least physically. He’s not really dressed, just wearing a black pair of sweatpants that must be his pajamas, but he doesn’t seem particularly bashful as he looks over at you.

He doesn’t seem particularly…anything at all, actually.

Even as Buddy sniffs along his spine in dog-greeting and lays down behind him, Sans’ skull is entirely blank of expression and that…doesn’t sit well with you.

“Hey, babe,” you say gently, in human-greeting. “How’re you doing?”

“…bad. why are you here?”

You think normally, that frank of an answer might’ve hurt your feelings. But you’ve heard this distant tone in Sans’ voice before.

“I took a half-day. Wanted to see you,” you admit with a sheepish grin.

You’re not sure what kind of reaction you expect Sans to give you from that, but you think you must’ve expected something because you’re surprised when you get absolutely nothing.

Sans just…stares at you, his red eye-light tracking you, but even that looks flat somehow.

Empty.

You definitely know what this is now.

That time before…when Sans told you everything…he was like this then, too, all spaced out and distant. Back then, you’d only been his friend and had no idea what to do to help him. This time…

Well, you still had no idea what to do, but now you were his datemate. You were confident that it was your place to help if you could…even if you were still just going to be winging it.

You come a little closer, asking, “Can I sit?”

“……sure.”

You sit down next to him. You try for a close yet respectable distance, but almost immediately slide right up against him thanks to the dip his weight causes in the mattress.

Sans may be all bones, but they’re big bones, with considerable heft.

It’s a fact you’re very aware of with most of those bones on display right now, pressing up against your side.

You don’t let it distract you.

Sans seems okay with touch so you reach out, settling your hand on his femur.

“I gotta say, it was kind of a relief to cut out early today,” you tell him. “It was just an overload of cute in there, all day, it was relentless.”

You tell Sans about your day, the saga of Princess and Andrea, and then being swarmed by a ferocious gang of fluffy kittens.

You don’t really expect Sans to interject or respond to you, and he doesn’t beyond the occasional grunt or huff, but he does angle his skull towards you and just sort of…watch you talk.

Whether he’s actually processing or retaining the words you’re saying, you have no idea, but you also don’t think it matters if he is—as long as he’s hearing you and knows you’re with him, you think that’s probably a good thing.

You also think of the other times Sans has texted you, ‘sounding’ weird but with totally believable excuses about why he wasn’t at the shelter that day when he should’ve been, or what he was doing on his day off.

You wonder how many of those times he was actually having an episode like this one and just went it alone.

He let you in this time, though.

You’re so proud of him for that, and so happy that you can be here for him.

“…Oh, jeez, and uh, heads up, Big Boss definitely knows about us.” You pick up Sans’ hand, holding it in yours to convey your meaning. “I got a really awkwardly maternal…pep talk? I think? Out of it, so I guess we’re fine.”

“mmm.”

“She said to go give you a smooch, actually, but…” You wrinkle your nose. “I think our smooching should be on our terms. I’m gonna kiss you when I want to kiss you, not when our boss tells me to.”

You look up at him. He’s still watching you, still blank, but also…still your very handsome skeleton beau.

“My impulse-control is garbage,” you admit, stretching up towards him. “This isn’t from her, okay?”

“okay,” he says flatly, and you smile.

You press your lips to his cheekbone and turn to nuzzle his face a little for good measure.

He doesn’t return it the way he usually does, but he doesn’t push you away either, and when you settle back down by his side, he moves his arm a little so you can get closer.

You feel like a pretty good datemate right about now.

Somewhere outside, a car alarm goes off.

Sans flinches hard at the noise and even when the car’s owner quickly puts a stop to it, he still looks…pained.

“Sans? Are you okay?”

Beyond the obvious not-okay-ness, you mean.

“…………headache,” he mutters eventually.

You have no idea what a headache feels like with a giant hole in your skull. You’re a little afraid to imagine it, actually.

“Aw, how long, baby?” you ask. “All day?”

Sans shrugs, which you take to mean ‘yeah, more or less,’ and you frown.

“Did you take anything for it?”

“……mmn.”

That was a ‘no.’

“Have you left this room at all? Gotten food?”

“…………”

“Sans?” you prompt.

“…no.”

You push yourself up off the bed.

“Okay, well, that’s not gonna fly,” you decide. “I’ll go get you something. Stay here. …Both of you,” you add as an afterthought, pointing at Buddy.

He’s about as settled onto the mattress as a dog can be, so he just looks at you as if to say, ‘who, me?’

“Yes, good boy.” You plant another quick kiss to Sans’ skull, gentle as can be. “You, too.”

And with that, you leave the room.

You feel a little bad about rummaging around in the brothers’ medicine cabinet. You try not to take any particular note of any bone colognes, bleaches, or anti-anxieties and zero in on a monster-friendly aspirin bottle.

A quick skim of the label says it’s best taken with food, so you pop the bottle in your pocket for now and head down to the kitchen to see what you can make quickly with your minimal amount of skill.

On the way, you shoot Papyrus a quick text asking him to call you if he can, noting that it’s only mildly urgent so he doesn’t worry too much if he can’t. You feel…pretty in control of the situation right now, but you also think you’d feel better if you could at least let Pap know about it.

Sans was your boyfriend, but he was Papyrus’ brother and this…whatever this was, probably deserved at least a call.

Their pantry is well-stocked, as always, but pretty much everything in it has more cooking directions on the packaging than you’re confident with. You switch to the fridge, and find tons of leftovers in tupperware—which is pretty much exactly your culinary speed.

You fish out something that looks and smells like stew and almost just nuke it in the microwave…but you decide to use the stove instead. Wasn’t it supposed to distribute the heat more evenly…or something?

Ugh, more adulting I never learned all the way…

In any case, pouring the soup into a little pot and stirring it on the stovetop made you feel more like you were doing something; being useful.

Until you’ve got someone who can actually talk back to you, you have to take the validation where it comes.

You bless the universe itself for Papyrus because nearly the second you think it, your phone starts to buzz.

You answer it without taking your eye off the stove. “Hello?”

“Hello, Dear Friend!” he exclaims, sounding only a tad frazzled. You hear people shuffling about and talking in the background and think he’s probably in a hallway. “I Have A Brief Lull And I Wanted To Make Sure Nothing Was On Fire. …Or If It Is, That The Proper Response Teams Are Called To The Correct Places!”

“No, no, nothing’s on fire,” you promise, “metaphorically or otherwise.”

“Oh, Good, Metaphorical Fires Are The Worst. Second Only To Philosophical Fires, What Do Those Even Burn, Anyway?”

You have no idea and you tell him as much, “…but listen, I’m at your place. I took the day off ‘cause Sans is…”

Stars, how would you even describe what Sans is right now? ‘Spaced out’ is too light of a description, ‘not himself’ is uselessly vague and slightly ominous…

There’s probably an actual term out there somewhere for this, but you don’t know it, and it’s not as if Sans could really go get properly diagnosed or treated for it.

Luckily for you, this is apparently not Papyrus’ first rodeo, either.

“Ah. He’s Having A Bad Day?”

That was certainly one way to describe it. “You don’t sound too surprised,” you note.

Papyrus sighs. “Sadly, No. These Things Happen. Sans…Goes Away Sometimes. There’s Really Not Much To Do About It, But He’ll Be Back Eventually.”

“That’s…a little reassuring, I guess.” You frown, remembering the last time you saw Sans…‘go away’ like this, and what he was like when he ‘came back.’ “Is…I mean, should I be worried about…after? The last time this happened, uh…I’m pretty sure a panic attack was involved, that’s not…is that normal for one of these?”

“Definitely Not,” Papyrus said firmly. “That Was Probably Triggered By Something Else.”

Like Sans believing for a second that he’d broken your neck? That would likely do the trick.

“Attacks Aren’t Very Common For Sans, In General, I Wouldn’t Worry Too Much About It.”

“Okay. Thank you, Pap, I’ll do my best over here.” Like hell you’d give Sans anything less! “Oh, but hey, I mean…is there anything I…maybe shouldbe doing that I’m not?”

“Well, That Raises The Question Of What You Are Doing, Doesn’t It?”

“Uh…well, mostly so far I’m just…talking to him…touching him a little, like on the arm and stuff. I got it out of him that he had a headache and hadn’t eaten yet, so I’m…I’m heating up some leftover stew and I got some aspirin to go with it. Is that…is that enough?”

You hear Papyrus laugh over the phone, a soft little ‘Nyeh-Heh-Heh.’

“I Don’t Know Why You’re Worried,” he says. “You’re Doing Everything Right. I Have To Go But Clearly, Sans Is In Very Good Hands. I Believe In You, Human! And Continue To Keep The Fires To A Minimum If You Can!”

“Haha, yeah, okay, no problem, Pap. Go learn some more stuff, I’ll see you later.”

Papyrus is truly the monster embodiment of sunshine…or maybe an energy shot.

You get off the phone feeling re-motivated and ready to take on anything!

You finish with the stew, get it in a bowl, and head back upstairs to Sans’ room where two pairs of eyes are on you the second you open the door.

Well…Buddy’s pair, and one magic red light in an eye-socket.

“Found some stew,” you announce, bringing it in. “Or maybe soup? Is there a difference?”

Your answer is, of course, blank stares.

“Yeah, I have no clue either.”

Setting the bowl on the nightstand for a moment, you fiddle with the aspirin bottle and hand a couple tablets to Sans, who takes them even before you ask him to.

You’re starting to remember from last time how weirdly compliant these…episodes? made him act. You still don’t think you like it, but at least it makes taking care of him a little easier.

Sans takes the bowl when you pass that to him, too, and only spends a moment looking at you before starting to eat it.

Satisfied, you plop back down on the bed beside him, reaching back to give the dog a pat for not being too much of a food-hound right now.

You loved dogs, they were such incredible animals. They could be smart enough to read a room and decide the right time to beg for scraps and at the same time, be dumb enough to get stuck in a couch or bark at their own reflection.

Amazing.

A spoon in your face startles you out of your musings.

You blink at it, too surprised to process it for a second, before turning to look up at Sans. The look on his skull, completely devoid of any of the emotional cues you were used to, was absolutely no help but there weren’t many ways to interpret food being held in front of your face.

He wanted you to have a bite, too.

You smile, feeling warm all over, and accept it—you hadn’t had lunch and you were definitely a little peckish.

It was easier not to think about it when you had Something Important to do, but you’d brought Sans his medicine and his food and with your tasks completed, that rich broth smelled far too tempting to turn down entirely.

Over the course of the bowl, you accept another two or three bites, but turn down the rest.

“No, baby, I’m fine, you finish it,” you say to the last one, patting Sans on the arm. “I at least had breakfast this morning.”

Sans doesn’t react to your teasingly chiding tone, but he does finish the stew without protest and lets you take the bowl when he’s done.

“I’ll take care of the dishes real quick,” you say, giving him another kiss on the cheek as you go. “Don’t want Papyrus pitching a fit over a messy sink.”

Papyrus probably wouldn’t be too terribly upset if you just left the dirty dishes in the sink to soak. He’d probably also immediately go wash them himself in spite of his gruelingly long day of classes, which didn’t seem fair to you at all. Better if you just take care of it now and then nobody has to worry about it later.

Besides, what else were you doing? It was your day off!

You keep that thought in your mind when you finish washing dishes and come back to Sans.

“Hey,” you say to Buddy, pointing to the floor. “Down, off the bed, down.”

Buddy, knowing at least one of those words, takes his sweet time stretching and shaking off a little before hopping down onto the floor.

More room for you.

You close the window curtain against the midday sun, kick off your shoes and get on the bed, pulling at Sans like you could somehow budge him if he didn’t want to go. “Come on,” you coax, “lay down with me.”

Sans does without question and you arrange the pillows and blanket to your liking before snuggling up next to him.

“I’m gonna take a nap,” you tell him. “Wake me up if you need anything, okay?”

“……okay.”

You’ve got the day off and Sans is taken care of, and while this isn’t exactly the circumstances you’d imagined for your first time sharing a bed with your boyfriend, you’re not going to waste the opportunity to relax and enjoy not being at work.

Sans is like a skeleton space-heater beside you and you doze off to the thought of all the nuzzles you’re going to give him when he comes back to you.

You wake up…not quite sure where you are.

There’s something soft and plush underneath you and a big hand stroking so gently and pleasantly over your head that you almost don’t want to open your eyes.

You do anyway.

The hand stills as you look up into Sans’ grinning skull from your new place atop his chest.

“hey,” he says.

You couldn’t explain in a million years how, but from just that one word, you know.

You’ve got your Sans back.

“Hey yourself,” you mumble in a rasp, pushing yourself up a little.

You wake up faster when you feel the strange give beneath your hands where there should’ve been…no, not even bone, there should have been a cavity where you were laying.

So, what the hell…?

………

A pillow.

Sans had actually wedged an entire pillow into his ribcage so you’d have something comfy to lay on while you were on top of him.

“I’m gonna be frank here,” you say. “I don’t know if this is adorable or hilarious.”

Sans laughs and you bounce a little with the movement. “can’t it be both?” he asks. “an’ if you’re frank, who am i?”

…Yep, your Sans was back.

You snicker, planting your palm in the middle of his face. “A jerk, apparently. You’re lucky I already knew that!”

Sans grabs your wrist and you blink in surprise as he holds your hand still so he can nuzzle it.

“i am lucky,” he agrees, his single red eye watching you. “thanks for stayin’.”

Your heart thumps hard in your chest. “I…well, of course I stayed. Where…where else was I gonna go?”

“work, if you didn’t take off for me.” Sans looks mildly chagrined. “i didn’t mean to make ya’ do that…”

You scoff. “You didn’t make me do anything. I wanted to come see you, so I did.”

Sans doesn’t look particularly comforted.

“Hey, come on,” you insist. “You know me, I never take time off, it’s not like I don’t have the days saved up. I got a nap in and I got to see my favorite skeleton, that sounds like a pretty good use of a day to me.”

Sans stares at you…and then he smirks. “m’tellin’ Pap you said i’m your favorite.”

You laugh and pull your hand back from him. It’s an empty threat and you both know it, but still…

“Okay, you’re right, I take it back: Papyrus is my favorite skeleton.”

“aw, i only got to be the favorite for ten seconds? that’s cold.”

“He’s just my favorite skeleton,” you say, folding your arms over Sans’ chest and resting your chin on them. “You can still be my favorite funnybones. How’s that?”

That one takes an extra moment to process.

Sans’ eye-light is shivering again, warping weirdly out of shape, and you’re definitely going to have to start paying more attention to context to figure this out because you didn’t even say anything humorous that time.

No time to think about it now, though, because Sans is sitting up, his arm coming around your back to hold you against him.

“okay,” he chuckles, “okay, just for that, we’re gonna salvage this half-day of yours.”

You laugh a little. “What?”

“c’mon, your first ditch-day in fifty years—”

“It’s been a couple months?”

“fifty years,” Sans insists. “we can’t just lay in bed all day, let’s go.”

You yelp in surprise when Sans unceremoniously rolls off the bed with you. You’re tensed, clinging to his ribs like handlebars as you wait to thud onto the floor.

There is no thud, of course. It’s a ‘whoomph’ at best when the two of you land on the couch downstairs and Sans starts digging through the cushions for the TV remote.

When he finds it and turns it on, you snort. “So, we’re gonna lay on the couch all day instead?”

“couch date,” Sans shrugs, winking down at you. “it’s my turn to pick, isn’t it?”

…You gotta give him that one, it is his turn.

You roll over to face the screen, snuggling backwards against Sans into the closest thing to a spooning position you can manage. If you leaned your head back, you’d barely be resting it against his sternum, but it’s hardly your fault that he’s impractically huge.

At least you’ve got the pillow in his abdominal cavity to make it more comfortable, plus the decorative couch pillows he graciously shifts around and settles beneath your head and arm.

Sans really is a thoughtful guy, even if he won’t stop giggling about how small you are.

“next time we go somewhere that charges admission, i’m smuggling you in,” he says. “pop ya’ into my ribcage an’ nobody’ll know, two for the price of one.”

The mental image is so stupid that you laugh, too. “I can’t even tell if you’re serious, you actually are that much of a con-artist. For the record, I don’t want to do any crimes, don’t make me do crimes!”

“aww, don’t get worked up about it, i’m just ribbin’ ya’.”

“I’m telling you, Sans, the comedy police are gonna get you one of these days.”

He bends down, nuzzling the top of your head. “visit me in comedy prison. bring me a cake with a rubber chicken baked into it.”

“What?” you laugh. “Why? That won’t help you escape!”

“i’ll serve my sentence fair an’ square, the chicken’s to keep my morale up. help me hendure it.”

You don’t even dignify that with a response.

“hey, if I’m down on my cluck an’ all cooped up…”

Okay, fine!

“How about you just don’t go to comedy prison at all?” you suggest. “It’s not eggsactly all it’s cracked up to be.”

Sans’ deep baritone laugh behind you feels like a gift, a hard-won reward after a rough day and it makes something in your chest sing with delight.

You reach back, swatting lightly at a rib. “Pick something good to watch, funnybones.”

“yes, dear…” Sans sighs, but he also drapes an arm over you as he starts to flick through the channels of daytime television so you know he isn’t as put-upon as he’s acting.

There’s not much on, of course: it’s still daytime programming, which is always a little lackluster no matter how many channels you have to choose from, but neither of you is all that picky.

You end up bouncing around from show to show, catching bits of movies here and there. Some of them you recognize and can give some context to Sans about, and others you’re both completely clueless.

Buddy comes down eventually to join you, laying on the floor in front of the couch. You know you’re anthropomorphizing, but you think he looks a tad annoyed with you for disappearing on him the way you did. Luckily, you can reach him from your spot on the couch and you give the scruff of his neck a good apology scratch so you don’t feel too bad about it and your dog-friend certainly doesn’t try to stop you.

You don’t try to stop Sans, either, when he reaches down to touch you.

It’s perfectly gentlemanly, of course, with nothing untoward behind his idle petting. The feeling of his hands stroking along your body—your arm, your hip, and just once, a bit of your thigh—is nothing but pleasant and you’re happy to lean into his touch and let him leisurely explore you.

It’s nice, a lovely way to spend an evening and that’s exactly what you do: snuggle and watch TV together until the sun goes down.

All three of you look up when the front door opens and Papyrus strides in.

He seems a little surprised to see you but quickly smiles when Sans gives him a lazy, “hey, Pap,” and goes right back to watching TV.

“Hello, Brother,” Papyrus returns, shucking off his messenger bag of books and his fashionable cold weather attire, “Human! I Suppose The Both Of You Have Been Lazing Around All Day While Some Of Us Were Working To Be Productive Members Of Society.”

“Yeah, pretty much,” you freely admit.

“best day ever,” Sans adds, stroking at your arm with his thumb.

He doesn’t turn away from the screen, though, so he misses the little thumbs up Papyrus gives you on the sly that makes your cheeks feel a little hot.

You suppose it could be worse: he could’ve asked for details about why you were spooning his shirtless brother in the middle of the living room, still mostly dressed for work yourself and leaning back against the whole entire king-sized pillow Sans had stuffed behind his ribs.

Papyrus is incredible at rolling with the weirdness, though. The more time you spend with these guys, the more you realize it has to be because he’s seen weirder.

Truly, a harrowing concept.

“Well,” Papyrus proclaims, “If You’re Both Really Such Loafers, I’m Sure You Won’t Properly Appreciate A Lecture On The Merits Of—”

“nope, already tuned out.”

“Sigh. No Point Wasting It Then!”

Without further ado, Papyrus marches over to the couch and shoves Sans’ legs right off of it.

Sans has pretty quick instincts. He catches you against him so you don’t fall off, too, and half sits up, bracing himself against the armrest.

All he says is, “dude,” but you hear the unspoken, ‘what the fuck?’ clear as a bell.

Papyrus just sits down on the newly-freed couch real estate. He bends to give Buddy on the floor a quick pat and then reaches over to swipe the remote.

“You’ve Had Plenty of TV-Time With Your Human, Sans,” he says flippantly. “If You Insist On Corrupting Them With Your Couch-Potato-Ing Ways—”

“i do,” Sans says emphatically, hugging you more tightly to his chest.

“—Then They Should At Least Be Exposed To Some Decent Monster Culture!”

So saying, he changes the channel. No actual programming is playing yet, but there’s a promo on for the special that’s about to air and you recognize it.

“Oh, Napstablook!” The ghost DJ, one of monsterkind’s most prominent artists since coming aboveground. “I love their music!”

“Ah, You’ve Heard Of Them!” Papyrus seems pleased. “You’re Not Completely Hopeless, After All, Then.”

You feel Sans huff out a breath behind you. “didn’t know blook was gettin’ a televised concert…”

“I Only Just Found Out Myself,” Papyrus admits, “But I’m Happy For Them! Nothing Beats The Showmanship Of The Late, Great Mettaton, Of Course, But That Ghost Can Certainly Mix Some Spine-Tingling Tunes, Nyeh-Heh-Heh!”

It’s quiet for a long moment, save for the sound of the television.

You have the feeling that Sans wants to say something, but has to figure out how first so you keep your mouth shut and let him work it out.

“hey,” he says to you eventually. “new date idea. you cool with changing it up?”

Still in your ‘day off, down for anything’ mindset? “Yeah, sure, whatever you wanna do.”

Sans nuzzles the top of your head again, gratefully affectionate, and then turns to Papyrus.

“hey, bro, we’re gonna go to grillby’s, get ‘em some real monster culture. ya’ wanna come with?”

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

#fur a good time call #undertale #fanfiction #sans #papyrus #sans/reader #horrortale #ht!sans #ht!papyrus #myfic

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getseriouser · 5 years

Text

20 THOUGHTS: A bit unfit and a bit fat, but that’s alright

LAST Saturday night was just weird.

This column, with tongue firmly in cheek, prides itself on its gambling connection (Nat Fyfe, if you can get anything over $3 for the Brownlow just remortgage the house, don’t be subtle).

So to think of the possible odds for North to score only one goal, into Doggies 21 goals in a row, into the Wallabies highest ever score against New Zealand, sweet Jesus what a multi.

Then looking ahead to this weekend, first plays second, third plays fourth, another must-watch weekend of footy.

Oh, and Lord’s starts tomorrow night. You’re welcome.

1. Positive up front, and how bloody good is Roughy? Gets a send off this Sunday and rightfully so. 282 games but remember he lost a good chunk with his cancer battle. Almost 600 goals and was a key member of four flags. Two All-Australians and a Coleman too to boot. Bonafide legend. Onya Rough.

2. Ben Simmons gets another mention, but I’m kinda confused. Don’t get me wrong, this column doesn’t resile from the stance his ‘late withdrawal’ from the Boomers-Team USA game was stinky, especially after he just signed a new contract; he isn’t jeopardising getting a new one. He has been paid. But now all the other shade getting thrown his way seems a bit tall poppy. The Crown thing was a complete non-story, sure, not everyone’s a 200 million dollar NBA player, but how many bastards are getting knocked back from the cas every minute? And then coverage on perceptions of petulance and what not, when the coverage of his philanthropy in and around paid gigs isn’t quite sexy enough so it doesn’t happen? Look. Whack him for not suiting up for the Boomers. Aside from that, this has been a good return home, not a train wreck some media outlets would lead you to believe.

3. Speaking of train wrecks, the Bombers, my word. Sure, the game was horrendous and that’s been spoken about. But to do that when clearly the whole week leading up was how they would respond to the thrashing to Port a week earlier. Like that? So either Freo cops a twice-as-motivated Essendon this week looking to make amends for a fortnight of crap, or things do indeed come in three’s?

4. Dogs were ace though. They get that fling and ping footy going, dish, dish, then hammer down the field almost Mighty Ducks flying V style, its amazing to watch and incredibly effective. Might be playing off for a finals spot last round at Ballarat against the Crows. Would be good to see them make it, even if they have dropped some dud games this season.

5. Josh Dunkley was a scroungy forward type in the premiership year, then been a bit ‘yes, no, not sure’, but the last two months works harder than Lance Armstrong fresh from a Priceline visit. Lovely story, hope this blooms into one hell of a career. Kid can play.

6. Speaking of kids, this column has adopted ‘the Fog’. Darcy Fogarty, a country kid who is 6”4 and almost 15 stone in the old, lump of a lad, can seriously go. Sporting Mark Riccuito’s old number, he was taken at pick 12 in the 2017 draft, and this columnist is very happy with who the Pies took at pick six despite that player now being suspended for too much time on the pick six, but was eyeing off the Fog to end up in black and white, such was his potential. Boom junior, great size. Last weekend finally gets a breakout game, five snags against a good West Coast backline over there; he will own that goal square for a decade that boy. The Fog. Very much ‘a buy’.

7. And how the AFL gave the Rising Star nom to Oscar Allen over Fog is a travesty. Not like you could have missed Fog’s game, whilst Allen booted three snags at one end, not hard to see the Fog dominate at the other, wouldn’t have thought. Morons.

8. Crouch brothers, a fan, not at Fog levels but still. 88 touches between them, 10 tackles, 15 clearances, 12 inside 50s. Without them, Eagles win easy by eight goals if not more. The two Ballarat boys can play.

9. Enjoying the Al-Clarkson version of Chad Wingard. Was too happy to wear long sleeves on a dry but cool day in Adelaide and get away with not doing extras. Now, in a club that bans long sleeves and embraces adversity, strength through struggle, he is looking like an AFL footballer. Playing majority onball of late, has had over 20 touches the last month and averaged 28 the last two weeks. Upward trajectory for him I sense.

10. Freo win that, its an easy three votes for Nat Fyfe and that come Brownlow night might be the votes that sets off the flash photography. Should still get the three but now might be a sneaky two. Either way, this column did appoint the Bont as the best player in the comp, last three weeks the Freo skipper has averaged 32 touches, eight clearances and a goal a game. It’s Bont over Fyfe just right now. Just.

11. But Jack Steven gets votes for Sunday, played well, good to see him out there first and foremost. Had a terrible year away from footy and we hope that its only good things from here on out, but gee he is a good footballer when going. Quick, exciting, skillful. Hopefully a big 2020 in store for him.

12. And low and behold, Dann Hannebery played some good footy too. What a surprise to some, hey? But look, that game on Sunday is the kind of value the Saints could use. If he can produce more of that over the next 24 months, too stay on the park, despite all the nay-sayers at the start of the year the move for St Kilda will have been incredibly shrewd and well justified after all.

13. Good stat on Fox Footy Monday – Richmond has only played one game against a top four team all year, that was Geelong a few weeks ago and got spanked. Further, West Coast have only played two top eight teams after Round Six, once was a win over Essendon, but given last Saturday that’s not much to write home about, and then a home loss to Collingwood a month or so back. Form line questions much?

14. And its why we still question Brisbane. Have 15 wins on the board but have basically played Frankston Dolphins seven times. Now after last Saturday I’m not as sold on this theory, but give Essendon some confidence back, and some of their absent stars too, if the Bombers and Lions played each other 10 times, say on neutral ground, the Dons win at least five for mine, no doubt. Their records against top 8 teams are basically identical. Alas, on different paths though.

15. Christian Petracca only had one game above 20 touches before Queen’s Birthday, and that was against the Gold Coast. Since then he has had a few. He is an absolute front runner. Needs to get out of Melbourne and get under a Clarkson or Chris Scott who’ll make him work. We’ve highlighted Wingard at Hawthorn, something similar might just extract the amazing talent out of the former no.2 pick. He should be a Cripps or Dangerfield in the guts, but is playing like a poor man’s Jack Gunston. Disappointing. So is his club too in 2019 for that matter.

16. Steve Coniglio, its GWS or Carlton it seems. Reckon the Giants would be stiff to lose him given they let go of Shiel, Setterfield, Lobb amongst others last year because of a cap crunch, particularly when it came to keeping cash aside for Josh Kelly and Coniglio. Still think he stays, I think if he was to go it would have been home, and I don’t see WA acquiring Tim Kelly and Coniglio this year, and Kelly is a definite.

17. Kelly gets to Freo, I think, don’t see the Eagles making it work without a surprise. Brad Hill definitely comes back to Victoria off the back of that, but probably not Geelong. Jack Steven to the Cats still has legs, if nothing else to get back to Lorne, near family and friends – would be ideal given his mental health. But too, if the Saints don’t think they’re winning a flag within three years, then Steven who turns 30 around Round One next year, it just makes sense then despite his overwhelming love for the red, white and black.

18. Ashes, quick one, reckon they’d like to play Mitch Starc but they may go in unchanged. Josh Hazlewood definitely plays Headingly in the third test though, as it starts only a couple days after the Lord’s test finishes, very quick turnarounds. Cam Bancroft plays tomorrow night, and just needs to get a gutsy 30 I reckon either innings to stay in the team. Langer loves him, and can see the potential. But remember, if Australia wins this test, England would need to win all three tests left to get the Urn. A draw and England will need at least two more wins but don’t forget, two of the last three tests are in the British Autumn. Don’t need Jane Bunn to tell you how wet that gets.

19. So those Wallabies huh? Where’d that come from? Want to see more though from this weekend’s inevitable loss at Eden Park, coz the form line doesn’t stack up. Two matches ago in South Africa still looked mighty concerning. So yes, awesome, great stuff, but I’m reluctant to trust in it too much. However, Samu Kerevi, he is a superstar. Remember his name. Most talented rugby player we’ve had in a generation, an equal to someone going through the courts right now we won’t mention. Between him and James O’Connor, there’s the pairing that could propel the Wallabies deep into a World Cup that until recently they had no rights to do.

20. And we finish with Perth. Specifically Optus Stadium. So they’ve had a NRL State of Origin, they hosted Manchester United and now smashed out an amazing Bledisloe Cup fixture. Meanwhile, we no doubt have the strongest ever WA Origin side in our grasps and it’ll never play a game, more specifically nor at that amazing ground. Littered with Brownlows, Colemans, All-Australians, Premierships, it’s a crying shame. So, if you don’t bring it back for good, at least let the people of Western Australia see their greatest ever team at a venue that’s clearly good for everyone else’s spectacles but not one of our own? Gil. Fix it.

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