#how fast? record fucking timing. only because it's ghost.

[designedparadigm]

❛  how fast do you think i can make you come?  ❜ / @warhunts

   an  eye  roll  is  what  soap  gives  ghost  at  first,  before  affixing  him  with  a  blunt  stare,  a  single  brow  raising.  "dinnae."  he  says  it  loftily  -  as  if  he's  not  laid  out naked  before  the  man  he  wants  more  than  anything  else  in  the  world.  as  if  it  won't  take  record  timing  -  with  the  way  he  already feels. 

   "guess  yer  jus'  gonna  have  tae  try  it,  huh?"  a  smirk  curls  upon  his  lips,  a  smug  aura  overtaking  him.  he's  so  confident  now  -  but  it's  when  a  return  smirk  graces  ghost's  visible  lips  that  soap  freezes.  realizes  the  mistake  in  that  moment. 

   "hey  -  wait  -" 

   before  he  can  continue,  he  watches  as  ghost's  head  disappears  between  his  legs,  large  hands  holding  his  thighs  apart,  soap  leaning  himself  back  into  the  bed,  curling  his  fingers  into  the  sheets. shite. 

   the  first  thing  he  feels  is  warm  breath  tickling  him  -  and  he  jerks  back,  only  to  find  he  doesn't  move  very  far.  he's  very  much held  in  place  -  and  it  takes  his  breath  from  him.  he squirms  in  that  moment;  being  rewarded  by  a rich  chuckle. god  -  that  voice  alone  could  probably  talk  him  into  coming. 

   but  of  course;  that's  not  what  he's  being  faced  with.  something  he's  all  but shown  when  a  warm  tongue  swipes  across  his  clit,  sending  a  jolt  through  him  -  something  that  causes  his  mouth  to  open  and  a  loud  moan  to  come  passed  his  lips,  his  body  shuddering  against  his  will. 

   "yer  a  right  fockin  bastard,  ye  ken?"  soap  hisses  between  clenched  teeth  -  only  to  be  rewarded  with  ghost's  mouth  entirely  over  his  clit.  it's  quick,  the  way  there's  suddenly sucking  and  that tongue  attacking  at  him. 

   "shite  -  fockin  -  shite  -"  swears  pass  between  sharp  gasps,  soap  writing,  but  staying good  enough  to  keep  his  hands off  ghost.  he  can  do  that  much  -  he  has  that  control. 

   what  he  doesn't  have  control  over  is  the  way  it  all  builds  up fast.  he's  never  been  this incessant  or needy  with  himself.  he's  never  had someone  else  be  like  that  with  him.  he  regrets challenging  the  lieutenant  immediately.  it's  mere minutes  before  his  cries  reach  their  fever  pitch  and  he  reaches  what  he  can  only  call  an  earth  shattering  climax. 

   heat  rushes  through  him,  and  his  entire  body  jolts  and  writhes.  he's  not  aware  he's yelling  -  and  only vaguely  aware  of  the rush  of  fluids  that  escape  him.  he knew  he's  a  squirter  -  but  never  to that  degree.  he's  never  been  pushed  to  the  edge  that violently.  he  could  never  bring  himself  to  the  edge  and  over  it  like  ghost  just  did. 

   he's glad  for  the  respite  after,  when  ghost  pulls  off  of  him.  a  forearm  comes  to  rest  over  his  eyes,  soap  letting  heavy  pants  pass  him. god  damnit.  he  scolds  himself.  couldn't  hold  out  -  not  when  it's ghost. 

   "ah  ken  how  yer  lookin'  at  me  an'  ahm  tellin'  ye  tae  stop  now."  he  grumbles  it,  breathless.  "an'  if  yer  gonna  ask  me  whit  ah  learned  -  ahmn  gonna  tell  ye  shite  all.  dinnae  care."  his  lips  curve  upward  into  a  smirk.  "ain't  gonna  admit  tae  shite.  yer  gonna  have  tae  drag  it  oot."  with  that  he  raises  his  forearm  to  look  at  ghost,  a  defiant  teasing  look  glinting  in  mischevious  blues. 

  make  me  regret  sayin'  that,  lt.  yer  capable  of  it.  i  want  that  part  of  ye.

[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband" - part. 2

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband" - part 2

pairings: itoshi rin, michael kaiser, mikage reo x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "wife" on rin's part) (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, lovesick boys

notes: I'M ALIVE! i cant believe how long it's been since i had time/energy/creativity to write something, ohmy goddddddd. i'm so sorry for all the time it took to post this, but i wanna ty all so much for all the love on part 1 and all the requests for part 2! hopefully this will meet your expectations ♥ as always, i went a lil' overboard with rin's part. enjoy!

part 1 / masterlist

Itoshi Rin

rin was not a fan of social media. it was clear with the way his instagram only had 8 pictures despite being years since his career started, and even more so by the fact he had no other social media besides that. if he wasn’t so famous, people would say itoshi rin was a ghost or some artificial intelligence invention. 

it was one of the reasons people were very shocked when he started dating you, an influencer with millions of followers on every platform. rin was a private person, and you… well, you shared your life on the internet for everyone to see. to say you were polar opposites was an understatement.

however, you never forced your boyfriend to appear in any of your socials, only recording things for your own fun and memories and posting only what he allowed. rin was glad for that. he didn’t mind doing dumb things with you to see you smile, as long as the rest of the world couldn’t see how whipped he was for you.

also, you were kind of glad the professional athlete was so unaware of social media, because it meant you could do a lot of tiktok trends without the risk of him already knowing what was coming — which made everything more satisfying. 

and the trend you chose that day was especially good.

“hey everyone, it’s y/n here!” you chirped, waving your hands in front of your phone. however, you were actually recording rin, who was at the other side waiting for your sign to appear on the screen.

you continued speaking. “today i have a very special guest, who i’m sure you’re all very familiar with.” you gave the camera a little cheeky wink, and your boyfriend rolled his eyes with all your theatrics. “please welcome itoshi rin, my handsome husband!”

rin gave a step forward to start his way to you, but suddenly, his whole body froze, brows furrowing in what you could only call utmost confusion. silence took over the room for what felt like an eternity, and you had to suppress your laugh seeing the imaginary ‘loading’ wheel on his head.

rin.exe stopped working.

“baby?” you decided to intervene, honestly a little scared of how immobile rin was.

“you— i’m— did you just— did we—”

you could no longer hold your laughter, and rin’s favorite melody echoing through the walls of your shared apartment was probably what snapped him out of his trance. he immediately scowled and crossed his arms, cheeks burning red from his pathetic stutter.

“i am never doing these dumb videos with you again.”

“no, no, i’m sorry!” your giggles kept going, and you approached your pouty boyfriend, squishing his cheeks between your hands. the smooch you gave him was almost enough to make him melt. almost. rin still had some self respect.

he also didn’t want to admit how abnormally fast his stone heart was beating with the mere thought of being referred to as your husband — and, even better, referring to you as his wife. 

fuck. that certainly did make him feel lots of things. those stupid butterflies that were born the minute you met were roaming freely in his stomach, soaring with all the love he had harbored just for you. 

“i’m sorry, baby,” you said again, smiling like you swallowed the sun and all things good in this world. you might as well have. how else could rin explain the way you were his everything? “it was a prank i saw on tiktok.”

he arched his eyebrow, arms uncrossing to put his hands on your waist. “oh? so you don’t want me to be your husband?”

the itoshi was satisfied to see you flushing this time. “i— w-well, you see…”

and then you started rambling, just like you did every time something made you nervous. and rin could only look at you as if nothing else was worth looking at, because really, to him, it wasn’t. 

…well, maybe the sight of you walking down the aisle would get the cake. he might have to find out soon. 

Michael Kaiser

once you started dating bastard munchen’s star, michael kaiser, it was natural to have his world collide with yours. everything from football to blue hair dye to weird sleeping habits became a part of you as well, and you nourished every expanse of your world his presence alone was able to give.

your favorite part, besides learning all of him — his little habits, quirks and love languages that seemed to be crafted solely for you — was definitely immersing yourself in his culture. germany always seemed distant and quite detached from your life, and you loved to learn new things from different perspectives. 

food, traditions, language… michael loved teaching you things, giddy and secretly grateful for your excitement. it was his sparkly eyes that prompted you to learn a few things by yourself to surprise him and make him happy. 

the tiktok trend was just a nice coincidence. 

you phone was hidden on the kitchen balcony, camera recording and waiting for the moment your boyfriend would arrive in your shared apartment. luckily, kaiser was very punctual, and you didn’t have to wait much longer.

“liebling, i’m home!” you heard him scream from the front door, and you giggled to yourself, pretending to be busy chopping vegetables for dinner. 

you waited for his footsteps to near where you were, and, as soon as you felt he entered the camera frame, you answered:

“welcome home, ehemann!”

you didn’t have to turn around to see the way kaiser completely froze; arms stopping just before reaching your waist as if your figure was an illusion created by his tired mind. you fought hard to suppress your grin.

“what… did you say…?” his voice was low and uncertain, but there was no annoyance in it; just pure confusion. 

turning your head around to finally look at him, you were pleased to find your mikka with rosy cheeks and a bashful expression, so extremely unusual for a guy like him you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter on your chest. 

you gave him your best innocent look. “huh? isn’t that how you say boyfriend?”

“i-it’s husband, liebe. you called me husband,” his tone was still incredulous, and this time, you couldn’t keep your smile off your face. 

“oh, did i?”

your countenance seemed to finally snap him out of his trance, and michael’s eyebrows shot up, scoffing slightly — albeit still endearingly. his arms circled your waist and he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck. 

“how mean of you, baby. playing with my heart like that.” he trailed more kisses on your neck and jaw, making you squirm. “you tryin’ to kill me or something?”

you giggled again, both from the ticklish kisses he was giving you and the huge amount of love you had harbored just for him. “of course not, baby. i need you alive to make you my husband,” you jested.

“oh, yeah? you wanna make me your husband?”

“yes.” you shifted, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. kaiser hugged you a little tighter, feeling something fuzzy inside his chest. “is that a problem?”

“never,” he answered immediately. because it was true.

boyfriend, fiancé, partner, husband… michael didn’t mind what title would be bestowed to him — as long as he could keep being yours.

Mikage Reo

being the heir of one of the biggest corporations of the country and a professional football player made your boyfriend’s schedule pretty busy. therefore, thursdays like these, where you and him could have a nice walk around the park under the warm sunlight, hand in hand, were extremely rare — hence why they were so appreciated.

reo knew how much his frenetic agenda was a hard toll on your relationship, affecting both of you with distance, longing and short periods of time together. and, well, everyone knew how much of a goner he was for you, so it wasn’t surprising to see him give in whatever spare time he had in his hands — even going as far as making such time exist if there wasn’t any — to be with you for as long as he possibly could.

how could he deny your pretty little eyes pleading to have a stroll in the park with him ‘just for a few minutes?’

god, you were so selfless. he wanted to give you all of his minutes, hours, days, weeks, months and years. and for all that’s worth, reo would never deny you of such a thing — he’d rather shoot himself than make you think you weren’t loved with every fiber of his being.

the weather was nice; a gentle breeze kissing both of your faces and making everything more pleasant. you were both chatting and appreciating the calm environment when you spotted an old lady a few feet ahead, selling different colored roses for the passersby. a smile was etched onto your lips, and you impulsively let go of reo’s hand to run towards her. 

“why hello, dear. would you like to buy a rose?”

your boyfriend watched you beam to the lady and slowly approached you, though still keeping his distance and trying hard not to intervene and buy all the roses for you. 

“yes, please! a red one would be perfect.”

“oh, who will you give it to?” asked the woman, already taking one flower from the bunch to hand it to you. 

your smile became slightly more bashful, “it’s for my husband!”

and fuck, if reo wasn’t already completely in love with you and thoroughly believed you were his soulmate until then, he certainly would after that very moment. he could feel his cheeks burning and his tongue rolling inside his mouth with how speechless he became. his heart soared with your words, excitement coursing through his veins with a love so overwhelming he nearly fell on his knees right there. 

heavens, he loved you so fucking much. and you made him realize it was about time he proved it to you (once again).

his hands easily found his phone in his pocket, and a quick call to the jewelry store was made while you busied yourself with paying for the flower. reo couldn’t stop smiling like a lovesick fool, but he didn’t mind.

“hey, mr. fuji, it’s mikage! you know, i think it’s time for that visit i mentioned a while ago…”

he might not fall to his knees right there, but he would drop at one knee very soon.

[daydreamerwoah]

Love Through It All Pt. 4

tw: mentions of cheating, mentions of divorce, hurt, angst, anger, crying, sadness, mentions of therapy/counseling

Read Part 1 for author notes for the beginning of this story if this is your first time here.

Simon didn't even knock on Pvt Williams's office door before he walked in, slightly startling her as she looked up from the paperwork on her desk. He all but slammed the door as he strolled further in.

"Y'got five seconds to tell me why the fuck you recorded us in your room and sent it to m'wife." he demanded.

Williams's eyes widened as her mouth dropped, "How-how do you know I recorded us?"

"You don't get to ask the questions," he barked, "Answer me. Now."

Simon had a way of making anybody do anything he wanted. With his broad and towering stature and harsh eyes, everyone knew there were only certain things that the Ghost tolerated. And it didn't matter how much Williams's snaked her way into his head, she knew when he wasn't fucking around.

"I... I recorded it because-" Simon narrowed his eyes, making the woman shut her mouth instantly and gulp. "-But I didn't... I didn't send your wife the videos."

"Who did you send them to then?" He retorted. The tension in the room could be cut with a steak knife. Simon was on the verge of spazzing out waiting for her answer.

She sighed, nervous about the reaction she was about to get, "Ghost-"

"Who?" he ordered.

"You're not the only guy I'm shaggin'... and he likes to watch us do it... so-so I set up cameras in my room so he could watch them whenever he wanted. And........I accidentally sent him the videos of us when it was supposed to be me and him."

Simon's eyes widened so big the eyeblack covering his skin was almost no longer seen through the holes in his mask. It wasn't the fact that Williams was fucking someone else, it was the fact that someone other than him, you, and her knew about his infidelity, and that just made him even more angry.

"Tell me who he is," another order.

And she did. She told him who the guy was - another private that was in her unit. She tried apologizing, but Simon was out the door before she could even finish her sentence. The only thing that was on his mind fixing the problem he caused. The other thing was to find the guy.

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

Ava was on her lunch break and decided to drag you along to the breakroom while she heated up her food. "How did it go this morning?"

You plopped down on an empty chair at the table and groaned, "I don't know." She faced you, one eyebrow raised as she waited for you to continue. When you didn't, she sat down in the seat next to you.

"What happened?"

You shook your head slightly, "I mean... I talked about something I hadn't told Simon before," she nodded in understanding, "the chaplain wants us to do two sessions a week. One alone and one together."

The microwave beeped, letting you know her food was heated. She stood and walked to grab the food, "That's good. It's a small step, but a step regardless."

You looked at the back of her head, eyebrows furrowing together as you licked your dry lips to speak again, "I saw her."

Ava's head whipped around so fast, it would have been comedic any other time. "You what?" she practically yelled, making you cringe at the tone. You nodded, "How?"

A sigh left your lips, "When we were leaving, she walked up to us. She was looking for him."

"What the hell?!" Food long forgotten, Ava marched right back over to the chair and sat down, urging you to continue.

"I don't know if she recognized me or not. But it was obvious. The way he tensed and how he barely looked at her. And the way she quickly left and looked at me... yeah. It was her." You had realized it until Ava pulled you into a hug that a tear fell down your cheek.

"Oh I'm sorry Y/n," she said, rocking you a little.

God, you wish you could cut the feelings out of your soul because you had been crying so much as of late. Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you pulled it out, seeing the message displayed.

Simon: I have to stay a little late. Promise I'm not cheating or doing anything wrong. Just have paperwork to do and take care of something. Love you.

"What?" Ava asked, sensing your body tense a little.

"Nothing. He just texted. Said he was gonna be late getting home."

She looked at the screen, feeling a bit sorry for you at his message explaining that he wasn't cheating. But another idea quickly popped in her head, "What are you doing after work?"

You shrugged, "Going home."

She hummed, "Well now you're not."

"Huh?"

A bright smile formed on her face, "I'm taking you somewhere. So be ready when we get off"

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

"I can't wear this!" you all but shouted as you stepped out of the dressing room in a dress that was very revealing. But that didn't stop the huge grin on Ava's face as she looked at you in it.

"Oh honey, it fits you so damn good."

You faced the mirror, eyeing the dress on your body. The way it hugged your curves perfectly and made your boobs sit nicely on displace, you couldn't help but admire it... even with your eyebrows drawn together.

Ava had taken you to a store that had dresses and outfits that screamed sexy, elegant, and dark. She made you try on more dresses than you could count, picking out the ones that looked great on you. Each one revealing the soft skin of your legs. Some dresses were strapless or sleeveless, and even the assistant complimented how beautiful you looked.

Next were shoes, and Ava made sure to pick out heels that made you stand taller and more confident. From open toe to pointed, she grabbed them.. even though some ones that were... questionable in your eyes. The high stiletto with straps that wrapped around your ankles in particular.

Finally, she dragged you to a lingerie store.

"Why are we here? I'm not having sex-"

She cut you off, "I didn't say you had to," she giggled, "But you gotta feel sexy under those clothes yeah?"

You playfully rolled your eyes. You honestly were having fun, and it was a good distraction. Better than going home to cry. Ava helped you find some nice garter and lingerie sets. Ones that were sure to not only make you feel sexy but that would have your husband quickly realizing what he was going to lose.

You hated the childish feeling that tugged on your heartstrings at how you looked different; how you looked better than what she had on.

When you got home, you had so many bags you made two trips to bring them in to your closet. "Fucking hell, Ava," you giggled as you looked at the bags. Your next task was to get rid of all the clothes that you hadn't worn in years or that wasn't matching the new you as your friend said. So you did. You threw out all of the old clothes and put away your new ones.

You hadn't realized how tired you were from the day's activities until you plopped on the couch and turned the TV on. It was just after 9pm. Simon was still at work, but you tried your best not to think about it. Regardless if he was being honest now, it didn't change the past; what he did. But instead of crying, you decided to have a glass of wine.

One turned into three, and you figured you'd just lay on the couch and continue to watch the movie that was on.

When Simon made it home a little before 10:30pm, he was beyond surprised to find your sleeping figure on the couch. You didn't even have a blanket draped over you as you curled your hands and feet close to your body to keep them warm. He sighed, taking off his mask as he walked closer to the couch and kneeled. Even though you fought hard to not cry, that only seemed to work when you were conscious. The couple of tears that escaped your closed eyes and the small whine that left your lips let Simon know you were dreaming... and not a pleasant one.

His forefinger gently brushed the tear away, and he felt his heart lurch out to you. He was truly sorry, even if you didn't believe him. Even when you shouldn't have.

When he came back from his last mission a few months ago, he felt weak. Not physically... but mentally. A well-known and violent terrorist had gotten away, and he wanted to rip the human being a new asshole. They - 141 and damn near half the army - had been searching for him for months prior, only for him to slip through their fingers. The unit that Pvt Williams was in was a part of that mission, and everyone felt the same anger rush through their veins when they got back to base.

It was something they all had in common. It was something you could and would never understand.

Simon just wanted to let out his frustration, just like his teammates. But he also was horny... he didn't know why. And he knew he could have gone home to you.... but you were his wife. Soft and fragile. You had never told him you were open to trying new things, trying BDSM. It was something he was into; rough and hardcore sex... he always had been, but when he met you, he knew you were different. You were the love of his life.... not the slut he fucked hard and rough to let out his stress.

And Williams played that to her advantage greatly. The first time, Simon was working on paperwork in his office while also having a glass of bourbon he kept in his drawer. He was alone and deep in his thoughts. He should have stopped her. He should have thrown her out of his office the moment she got on her knees in front of him. But when she told him to punish her, it was a true moment of weakness. The alcohol spinning in his head and his hand wrapped around her throat, he caved in.....

It was wrong. Very wrong. He wanted to tell you the next day what had happened, but his work overpowered his mind as they got ready for the next mission. He came back even more frustrated than before, and she knew she had him. He was a weak man... weak like his father. That scum of a human being. When he was little, Simon used to wonder why his mom stayed when his father treated her like complete shit. Like she was nothing.... but now he was wondering why he was making you stay. He didn't deserve the love you gave to him. You did nothing wrong, yet he refused to let you go.

With soft and steady hands, Simon picked you up in his arms, cradling you to his chest as he walked to the bedroom. Your eyes fluttered open a bit, slightly confused about why you felt weightless. "Simon?" you whispered, voice groggy with sleep.

"Shh.. It's alright, sweetheart. Just putting you to bed." he said, laying you down before covering you with the duvet.

You instantly fell back asleep, and Simon glanced down at you. His eyes watered as they had been doing off and on all day at the thought of everything. He wanted to make this right. He was going to make this right. He had already talked to a couple of superiors who started the process for Williams to be transferred to another base.. in another country. By the end of the week, she'd be gone and away from him and you forever.

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

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, and your head was hurting. You would have chalked it up to the wine you had last night, but the wet stains on your pillow only let you know that you had been crying in your sleep. You couldn't escape it even if you tried.

Sitting up, you glanced around the room. The sheets were scrunched up so you knew Simon came home last night. The slight memory of him picking you up off the couch and tucking you in before you felt the weight of the bed dip as he got in. You planted your feet on the floor before glancing at the clock on the nightstand. A small piece of paper caught your eye and you eventually grabbed and read it.

Hope you have a good day at work sweetheart. Breakfast is on the stove - xx Si

The fucking tiny smile that formed on your lips instantly formed as you read the note over again. It was ridiculous, but you felt the butterflies in your stomach before you frowned. No. You can't be happy. You can't.

You sat the note back on the nightstand before standing up and making your way to the bathroom to get ready for work. Once you showered, brushed your teeth, and put on makeup, you made your way to the closet, blushing at the clothes you hung up yesterday. Did Simon see them? You almost wondered if he did but you glanced at the clock, realizing you'd be late if you didn't hurry your ass up.

Grabbing the breakfast he left on the stove, you scarfed it down before quickly putting on your heels, grabbing your coat and keys, and heading out the door.

Taglist: @kalypsoox

I answered this in a response, but I have no idea how many parts this story will have. I'm just writing as I think of stuff, so this may be a long one :)

[patolemus]

double-whammie wip (not) wednesday

got tagged by @novasillies (still freaking out over their current wip update!!) and i have a bit of the newest chapter for my time travel au to share

“Hey, Stiles?” he calls out to the older boy. Stiles hums distractedly, and Derek knows he’s not really listening to him, too caught up in whatever he’s doing. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Stiles says. His back is turned to Derek, and he spends a moment appreciating the way Stiles’ muscles shift underneath the fitted shirt he has on as he mixes up his herbs. Stiles still doesn’t look like he’s paying all that much attention to him, but oh well. Derek will take what he can get.

He props himself up with his right forearm, half sitting as he puts his weight on it. “You like me, right?” he asks, sounding calm even though his heart has started beating faster and faster by the second. Derek doesn’t regret asking, though.

Stiles goes taut almost as soon as the question registers. He doesn’t turn around so he can’t see what kind of face he’s making, and his scent doesn’t betray anything, but Derek knows better than to trust it when he knows Stiles knows ways to manipulate it. After a few moments, though, his posture relaxes again and he goes back to mixing up things in the mortar.

“Yeah. Of course I do,” Stiles says. There’s a sort of vulnerability, a softness in his voice, and Derek feels his heart soar. 

He didn’t lie. Stiles didn’t lie. He likes Derek, Stiles likes Derek.

Don’t fuck this up, he thinks, only a little desperate as he tries to keep his heart under control. Not for the first time, he thanks whatever higher being is looking out for him, because if Stiles could hear how fast his heart is racing right now he’d think Derek is the lamest person ever. Which he is, but Stiles doesn’t need to know that.

“Cool,” he says, immediately regretting it. Cool? Who the fuck says cool to something like that? “I mean, I like you, too,” he adds hastily, fully sitting up as Stiles finally turns around.

“I know,” there’s the ghost of a smirk dancing on his lips and mirth in his eyes.

Derek starts to smile, then frowns. “Did you just Han Solo me?” he asks, not knowing what to feel when Stiles just bursts out laughing right there and then.

It’s a beautiful laugh. It takes his breath away. Derek doesn’t think he’s ever heard Stiles laugh like this before. Chuckle, maybe, definitely an amused huff here and there. But never an outright laugh like this one. Derek wants to hear it forever, wants to record it so he can play it back again and again and again, all the time.

He’s so gone on this boy. So, so gone. Derek feels overwhelmed by the sudden rush of affection that overcomes him, a hot, fluttery thing that leaves him tingly all over.

couldn't not do the star war's reference i mean IT WAS RIGHT THERE. anywayssss take the rare angst-free scene. no pressure tags: @dontcallpanic @hedwig221b @salty-fryingpan @oldefashioned @endwersed @dear-massacre and of course anyone who wants to do it

[ghcstao3]

based on the addition of this because i think it’s silly

-

It didn’t look my different from the other tapes, and that’s about as far as Ghost’s defence goes.

Dated and labelled accordingly as is every other tape in the box Ghost had unearthed while digging through his old things, he hardly thinks to be deterred by something titled Tommy’s wedding—it sounds perfectly normal, a happy glimpse into a life Ghost misses dearly from time to time, and he doesn’t see why he shouldn’t show Soap what had been recorded of a great memory.

The tapes were the only way Soap would ever get to know the Riley family, and Ghost supposes the wedding would be the perfect captured moment.

Except, whoever penned the label on the VHS thought it’d be real funny to betray the organization system just to play some practical joke on whoever decided to put the tape into the player more than a decade down the line.

Normally, Ghost might blame Tommy—but once the incriminating footage begins to play, the fault is obviously on Beth, because no one else would have ever had the need to see this tape in particular.

Soap immediately curls back into Ghost’s side as he returns to the couch, content to watch as he had all the other tapes Ghost had decided to show—a gentle fondness is inscribed into his expression as grainy chatter fills the space, a soft smile on his lips as a camera is shakily—and stealthily—set up in one of Tommy’s old mate’s living rooms.

Ghost frowns. Because distantly he recognizes the scene as Tommy’s stag, and not at all the wedding.

Though, he supposes, to lend credit—the precursor, ceremony, and reception could very well all just be mashed onto one tape. It’s what Ghost presumes, anyway, until he hears playful jeering and the clunky click of someone pressing play on a CD player.

It happens too fast, and realization comes much too slow as Tommy and a younger Simon appear just off-centre of the screen, entirely unaware of the camera pointed at them. Simon hears the first notes of the song and scrambles for the remote—only to find that Soap is holding it out of his reach, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he seems to come to some sort of revelation, too.

Ghost narrows his eyes. Commands, voice low, “Pause it, Johnny.”

Soap grins. “Don’t think so.”

It’s too late, anyhow.

Ghost is well and truly fucked as the Spice Girls’ Wannabe filters through his TV’s speakers. He’s never been so mortified.

He wishes he could melt into the couch along with his shame, watching his brother and younger self dance to the song in the same way they’d choreographed when the thing first came out. As stupidly drunk as they were at the time of the video playing on screen, Ghost is surprised they remembered any of it at all.

Any being too much, of course.

Soap only pauses when the song comes to an end, looking to Ghost expectantly, biting his cheek to surely keep from bursting into laughter then and there.

Ghost refuses to look him in the eye.

“We were pissed,” Ghost grumbles. “Bachelor party.”

“You still remember the dance?” Soap goads.

Ghost turns to glare at him. “Johnny.”

“What?” Soap’s face twitches. “Just a question. Of which you didn’t answer.”

Ghost folds his arms petulantly across his chest. How he wishes Beth were still around so he could get revenge for this embarrassing incident. Beyond embarrassing, really.

“No, I don’t.” Yes, he does. “A word of this to anyone and you’re dead, Tav.”

“Aw.” Soap folds back into Ghost’s side, and Ghost could never deny the way he softens, even if just a bit. Soap trails a palm from Ghost’s bicep to his forearm, almost soothing if his only intention wasn’t to tease. “You don’t mean tha’.”

“I do,” Ghost insists, but really, he’s always been a bad liar.

Soap shakes his head. “Nah,” he sighs. “But… I won’t tell anyone, swear. So long as I get to see you do that dance—otherwise this tape is getting rewound and shipped to Gaz with the VCR.”

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“Mhm,” Soap hums. “But only out of love, see.”

Ghost rolls his eyes. He plucks the remote from Soap’s hand and presses stop, not wanting to risk any more condemning footage appear. Perhaps he’ll have to start going through these tapes by himself first, from now on.

“Well, out of love I’ll let you live. How’s that?”

Soap smiles up at him, reaching up an arm to pat Ghost’s cheek twice. “Might be able to convince me.”

Ghost huffs. Convince he must, then.

He knows Beth and Tommy would’ve found this hilarious, the pricks.

In another life, he supposes.

[blingblong55]

Monstrance Clock-141 NSFW

A/N: imagine getting Ciriced by Price?? oh my days would I go feral

Based on a request:

What about nameless ghoul!Ghost whose a quintessence ghoul and the rest of 141 are ghouls too? Price is a like Copia but was raised with ghouls that’s why his ghouls listen they’re a pack

--- F!Reader, ghost band au, nameless ghoul!141, Papa emeritus!Price, photographer!reader, rock band au, smut, MDNI, 18+, blowjob so..oral!sex, Fem giving, slapping ---

A/N: Did I give them the classic, mountain, dewdrop and aether names? maybe I did…maybe I didn't…also I lied about this not being smutty…not sorry

The band Ghost is essentially one of the best rock bands to rise to fame for how good the vocals are, the act, the way the rituals(shows) exist, the ghouls and the lead singer. The perfect combination for all those who are into theatrics and rock. You happen to find yourself in the mix, being the photographer who follows along for all rituals. Tonight, performing for the best crowd, you find yourself roaming the stage as the men of the band practice the setlist for tonight. John walks in, a smirk on his lips as he knows how many women will be dying to get Ciriced by him. The ghouls walk on stage, maskless and already fucking around with the equipment.

"Oh hello, bonnie," Soap goes for the immediate hug and kiss on the cheek combo. Trying to win a spot as the favourite. Gaz and Ghost, how ironic, smoking at the edge of the stage. "Right boys, let's start by this," Price begins his meeting, guiding them and letting them know that tonight, they better bring their best behaviour, which in their case is being horny on stage and teasing all those in attendance. Dewdrop Ghoul, being Soap was instructed to make his sexual dance moves for when Mummy Dust comes on. Gaz, being named by fans as Rain Ghoul was instructed to later on the show come to the front of the stage and pretend to take over for Soap. Quintessence or Aether Ghoul as most fans call him was instructed to be cheeky alongside Soap. Papa Emeritus is as horny as can be when he kneels and makes fans want to indulge in his sins.

A/N: here me out, Farah is Cirrus, Alex is Swiss, and because here I like to fuck around with canons, König is Mountain and for shits and giggles, Kate is Cumulus…

"R/N, make sure to also record and take pictures of Gaz for the girls and boys," Price winks and walks off stage, getting ready for his Papa suit to be put on. Ghost walks to you, his arm draped over your shoulder as he and the other men look at the empty stadium. "We made it big time, no?" Soap asks and all of you nod. After some talk, the men begin to practice the set list, tuning their instruments and perfection notes for later tonight.

The religious groups outside, calling them and you Satanists only fed the fans that awaited the show. "C'mon, little ghoul, let's go get ready," Gaz takes your hand and walks off stage with you. "This man is trying to steal her from us?" Soap asks to which Ghost shakes his head. "Can't blame him for trying, although I know I'm her pick."

Later in the evening, you walk the halls of the stadium, photographing the ghouls making a shit show as they got energised for the ritual. Price taking photos with young fans and then walks to you, "Ready for a little bit of rock, little one?" His hand is on your waist as he guides you down the hall. "Ghouls, c'mon," he makes sure to not say names as young fans walk by. The way the stadium filled with signs, fans dressed as Papa or the ghouls, feeding the ego of the rockstars.

As the men posed for photos, and the casual candid ones you took, you got the now iconic photo of the Ghouls, touching each other all as Aether Ghoul flipped you off. Their masks, provoke even the holiest of men or women in the crowd to sin with them tonight.

The walk to the stage is fast, all running to their positions as you hurry to the front of the stage, photographing fans, handing out guitar picks and then preparing for when the time arrives. And just as you positioned your camera, Imperium begins to play, the shadows of them through the curtains excite fans. The lights out as the ritual begins. Kaisaron next as the three Ghouls go to the front of the stage, almost leaning on each other as their guitars make a beautiful melody. They go back to their positions and Price comes out. Papa Emeritus, to the stage front, as he begins to sing, the crowd wild and calling for him. You photograph the night away.

Cirice comes on and the three dancing Ghouls find a girl or man to mess with. The way they reached for them, how the fans went wild and before the man or woman could touch them, they would back away and continue playing. Papa, Ciriced the lucky girl that night, the same girl who had a guitar pick thrown to her cleavage. You smile as you watch the men get glorified like clothed porn stars. The music was sung between Papa and the fans, an experience most will never forget.

'He is' begins to play, some people sing to it, and some listen and adore it. You watch as the Ghouls become more calm. The lights are dark as they only shine on Price. Some became emotional, others whistled and cheered. Once finished, Price begins his speech. "New York, we will play a very heavy song next, do you want to hear it?" The crowd cheers. Soap chuckles as women make obscene gestures to him and he of course feeds them with his gestures. Once 'Mummy Dust' was announced to play, he and the other two men went to the front of the stage, each holding the gaze of the wave of people.

"Join us now, in Mummy Dust," Price said and began to excite the crowd. The three men grind on the other as they begin to play. Once separated, the men grind their hips to their guitars, Soap sticks his tongue out as he showcases his piercing. Price with his sexual moves as he pretends to stroke his microphone and spread the 'cum' on those present. His back arches as he plays pretend on an orgasm. Towards the end of the song, Soap goes to Ghost, begins to lick his side of the neck and watches the fans as they both play their guitars and begin the new wave of horniness in the stadium.

It was towards the end of the show when 'Ritual' began to play. "We know it's getting late, so we will leave you with our last little ritual here." He moved to Gaz's side of the stage. "But you better make this count, so make noise, New York!" The music began and the Ghouls began their blasphemous dance moves. You take the opportunity and take more pictures, Ghost posing for them all and even touching himself for you. You shake your head and he shrugs.

"Come closer," he says to you, which you do and he takes a puff from his vape and blows it in your face. "Good girl," he touches himself once more and walks back to Gaz. Ritual, enticing more provocative moves from Soap. He leans on Gaz as his fingers tease his thighs and chest. Fans go wild as the men do this. As the song comes to its end, Price speaks to the fans. "New York, you have been lovely, but we aren't done yet, you know." The crowd cheers, feeding his ego. "We don't leave you with shitty endings, we believe in good endings!" He looks around. "Now, New York, if I want you to promise me that tonight, you'll go home and do one thing," He turns to you and from under his mask he smiles. His gaze back on the fans as he continues, "Give yourself and, or someone dear to you or close to you and orgasm tonight, yes?" The crowd cheers again. You chuckle. "Good, no we will do one last song now."

He walks closer to the edge of the stage, "Coincidentally, this song is about happy endings, specifically how to achieve one female happy ending." He points to you and some other female fans amongst the crowd. "Before we go, we will all sing loud and clear, you hear me. A song to celebrate the female Orgasm! In the name of Satan." He raises his arm and the crowd, specifically the women cheer. 'Monstrance clock' begins to play.

The night went well, the Ghouls all bowed at the end of the night and threw guitar picks and even caught a few closed rubber boxes and bras. You walked backstage and Gaz was the first, yet again to keep you away from the rest.

The halls filled with the crew, running as they kept the stadium ready for the next day. The rest of the Ghouls ran down the hall; some played football and others smoked as they rested their bodies. The other photographers captured images for later use, Price walking around with his cigar, posing for the cameras. Gaz walks with you, "Did you see that little hip movement I did? Well, that was for you, darling," he kisses your cheek and before you can respond, Ghost and Soap take you away. Claiming you and your little camera for the night.

A/N: okay, maybe I am horny as I write this next part but fuck off because you are a masked man's slut too and we both probably have a thing for being fucked in front of a camera…love you! <3

They take you to their dressing room and sit you down. "What will the picture be this time?" You asked as they looked at each other. "Oh, not a picture this time, love. It'll be you and our fat cocks in your mouth, so open that pretty mouth and be a good slut," Ghost commands. Soap makes you get on your knees and forces your mouth open. He spits in your mouth along with Ghost and they make you swallow it. "Good girl, R/N," Ghost slaps your face a few times and then Soap begins to record. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want this, or to have Gaz and Price included. They didn't need groupies, not when your body can take three cocks and your hand or tits can take the other one.

Their thick and heavy cocks slap your face. You stick your tongue out and let Soap's fat cock open your mouth wide open. Ghost strokes himself, and then as he grows desperate for attention, he takes your hand and forces you to stroke him. Soap spits on Ghost's dick and watches as his bandmate groans. Your eyes teary as you gag and get forced to keep Soap's cock in your tiny mouth. Whatever couldn't fit in your mouth, Ghost helped by stroking it. The camera focused on you well you took Soap's cock. Your moans are muffled as you feel Ghost pinch your hard nipples.

Soap's cock was covered in pre-cum and your drool. When he pulls out, you gasp a little and before you can breathe properly, Ghost's fat cock spreads your mouth open again. Your teary eyes looking at his. His hips grind as he pushes your head further into his cock. You gag and he groans. Soap records as you take it full, your throat abused by him, his tip too deep in your throat by now. Your cries and mewls feed him more as he grips your head and keeps you in place.

"Just like that, stay like that. Good…good girl-fuck…oh baby~" Ghost moans as he feels his cum fall all in your mouth. He slaps you when you try and pull away. "Bad fucking girl," he slaps you again and again until you stop fighting. Soap laughs as you keep stroking his cock, the way you became so submissive to them, only making him get hornier and ready for the next show where he will tease you more than ever.

Once Ghost pulls out, he gives you a kiss and cleans his cock on your face. Price and Gaz open the door and smirk, "Hm, well if it isn't our little slut." One nod from him and Ghost and Soap leaves the room, the camera left in the corner as Price cleans your face. "Get on your knees, doll," he whispers. Gaz undoes your clothes and slaps your ass a few times. The night only getting started for your tight holes.

A/N: and here it is my horny children…now I must go and write angst...goodnight. Also, I kinda want to do more m!reader smuts so please pookies, give me ideas

tags: @urmajestyzel @kateluni @kit-kats06 @sp4c3k1ngjup1t3r @unicorngirly1 @scarletdfox @literallylovered @hades-aldrenn @aethelwyneleigh27 @spiderlilytengu @ghostslillady @agentkeegan @undercover-smutlover @driedsage @liyanahelena

[silverzoomies]

headcanon post ig

💙 nsfw ahead !! pretty filthy, just a warning !! 💙 

all the different eras/variations of peter maximoff are so...

.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡ 　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡ 　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ.｡*ﾟ🗲.*.｡ 　ﾟ*..🗲｡*ﾟ

💙 dofp era - he's so all talk until you take your shirt off. jerks it to 70's lewd mags he keeps stashed in a stolen set of speakers. fooled around with girls a handful of times. horny like a rabbit. went all the way once. it was so awkward he didn't finish. invited you over to legitimately hang out. thinks you talk too slow. plays an alice cooper record. infodumps about it. keeps zipping in and out of the basement for whatever reason. mostly to impress you with his speed. you're both horny. you both think the other is cute. you keep droppin' hints that you wanna fuck. he pretends he doesn't notice. either because he wants to play it cool, or because he's nervous. or both. he's distracted playing space invaders until you call his name. turns around, you're lifting your shirt over your head. it's like your titties bounce in slow motion. he's on you in a flash. his kisses are hasty and uncoordinated. wears a condom. humps like a bunny. fast, shallow thrusts. whimpers when he cums. wants to do it again five minutes later.

💙 apocalypse era - he's so date at the boardwalk on the other side of the country. rides the ferris wheel with you. offers to hold you close if you're too scared of heights. his dick gets really hard when your hand touches his leg. wins you the biggest prize playing carnival games. doesn't have to cheat, he's mastered all of them. pulls all the stops to win your heart. loves the thrill of the chase. takes you to an arcade. presses himself against you to "teach you how to play." but you're only playing galaga. sets up a romantic, moonlight picnic at the end of the night. would make out with you for hours. keeps asking if you're okay. would get you anything you wanted. eats you out on the picnic blanket. vibrating tongue makes you cum again and again. insists he doesn't need to get off. you fuck him under moonlight anyway. it's filthy and passionate. some of the best sex you'll ever have. so good you think you're in love with him. he'll definitely take you out again. would totally bail if you wanted a serious relationship, though.

💙 dark phoenix era - he's so regrets never settling down with a partner. past his prime. you used to be best friends. fucked around once or twice. nothing came of it. he hasn't seen you in years. melts into a puddle when he sees you again. you're mature and more confident in yourself. he thinks it's sexy as fuck. awkwardly offers to take you out to dinner. the dinner's too fancy. he doesn't feel comfortable at all. and neither do you. he's a lot more patient. lets you do all the talking. you keep asking him about himself, but he gives you half-truths. "oh, me? i'm great. lots of fans. pretty famous. all the kids think i'm their hero. gets hard bein' the best x-man, y'know? lotsa pressure." he hopes this makes you laugh. it does. fuck it. he might fall in love with you. sneaks you into his room at the mansion like you're teenagers again. kisses you like he hasn't kissed anyone in years. because he hasn't. eats your pussy like he's weaving careful threads with his tongue. really takes the time to taste you. fucks you so slow and so deep. realizes how much he missed you. thinks about knocking you up since he never had a kid. nah. he'd probably make a shitty dad anyway. insists he's in love with you. can't break his old habits, though. ghosts you again. but thinks about you 24/7.

💙 wandavision - he's so earthbound incense to cover up the smell of weed. invited you over just to "hang out 'n talk." plays a red hot chili peppers song and assumes you don't know it. says "just throw that shit wherever" when there's too much junk on the couch for you to sit. ogles your ass every time you get up. makes some half-hearted attempt at getting to know you. asks about your favorite show or movie. puts it on. barely watches it. keeps trying to sneak his arm over your shoulder. asks you shit like "does it smell alright in here?" somehow you end up in his lap anyway. Pulls his shorts halfway down his thighs. lets you do all the work, riding his dick. comes up with some poor excuse for not using a condom. he's bigger than you expect, but not huge. a touch above average. the fucking is pretty steamy. but he's a big talker. this either charms you, or makes you roll your eyes. he smacks your ass a lot. insists he won't cum inside. he does. orders you doordash after. forgets you asked for no ice.

💙 bonus: this fucker, also apocalypse era- he's so constant sarcastic remarks. blatantly stares at your tits all the time. cracks jokes and gets lowkey disappointed if you don't laugh. super into you because one: he thinks you're cute. two: you're the only person who doesn't make fun of his hair. #daddyissues. temper problem. kind of an asshole. nicer to you than most, though. takes you out to the movies. doesn't bother asking what kinda movie you wanna see. talks up a storm the whole time. you never get a word in. doesn't superspeed you anywhere. he drives, and he's a shitty driver. dinner with him is probably cheap takeout. eats it with you in the car. knows almost every artist on the radio. turns it up to full volume and sings along off key. somehow you end up sucking his dick in the back seat. it's girthy and tangy on your tongue. tries to fuck you in his car, but you're both packed like sardines. he's so rough and filthy. loves playing with your tits. drops you off at home and says he'll call you tomorrow. he doesn't.

[goferwashere]

PUNCH-OUT!! (Wii) MONSTER AU 🗣️💥

FIGHTING FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE IN THIS RING. LETS GO 🔥🔥

It’s a bit long so I added a cut 😭 I spent the past three days on this

THIS IS SUBJECT TO CHANGE BUT OH LORD I FORGOT HOW MUCH FUN MAKING AU’S IS

ALSO PLEASE PLEASE ADD MORE HC’S AND STUFF IF YOU HAVE ANY

Please just assume that just about every monster on this list comes with super strength unless stated otherwise.

Glass Joe:

Human - Monster Hunter/Boxer

- Wants to retire, but knows that without him some of the more unruly and dangerous monsters would dominate the circuit.

- Not everybody knows that *he’s* the infamous monster killer within the WBVA. Some do, but he doesn’t want it to be common knowledge. He needs the edge of “Poor, weak Glass Joe” to get the jump on his opponents.

- He doesn’t kill often, only if things get extremely out of hand. He’s basically the only thing keeping the humans and monsters from starting a full out war in the WVBA.

- Despite his job, He’s friends with a couple of the other boxers. Some knowing that they were monsters, some that he assumed were human and were actually monsters, and some that were just human.

- He doesn’t have anything against monsters, only those who try to take advantage of their power.

- He still trains and goes into the ring, trying to enjoy himself. To be fair, he does still enjoy boxing despite everything else he’s doing. Even if his record does stand at 1-99.

- On that note, his one win wasn’t an accident. He fully intended to win that fight, lacing Nick Bruisers gloves with Garlic so he’d be fighting with his hands essentially on fire.

- Even though he’s got a serious job, he far from a serious guy most of the time. He’s friendly with just about everybody, and tries to be civil with the people who treat him like shit.

- He’s also still clumsy. Almost died a few times as a result.

Von Kaiser:

Vampire - Boxer

- Being turned during his military service, he’s gotten good at hiding the obvious signs. He covers his bite mark and eye bags, and excessively dyes his skin using turmeric. (It fades fast though, leaving his skin looking a healthy colour.)

- Claims he has a garlic allergy, which makes him sad because he quite enjoyed garlic before turning.

- Enjoys the perks of being a vampire, but just can’t seem to keep up with the amount of blood his body demands. So he often twitches and looses focus, being sluggish and tired quite often.

- He enjoys the chase when tracking down his prey. It makes him feel powerful.

- Is 100% on the monster’s side. He believes that they’re superior, and will often be snarky with the human boxers (even if they’re ranked higher than him).

Disco Kid

Human (Possessed by Kid Quick) - Dancer/Boxer

- Disco is being possessed by the ghost of a boxer that was killed during one of his matches (yes that’s his unfinished business)

- Whenever he’s doing anything involving boxing, that’s Quick’s doing, but personality wise that’s always been Disco

- Disco is surprisingly chill with it, always wanting to try boxing but never having patience to train (so Quick does it for him lol)

- His personality leaks into Quicks movements and taunts, since despite liking boxing he’s got ‘no flair’ (As Disco puts it)

- Doesn’t have any super strength, but if they work together they can pull of some nasty combos, with Quick grabbing them and pushing them into Disco’s attacks (Disco isn’t a huge fan of that though, so it’s only really a last resort.)

- He’s honestly nervous when he finds out about the monsters in the WVBA. Quick assures him that they’ll be fine as long as they keep their heads down.

-…Which of course, Disco would never do. So when he gets mixed up in the drama he doesn’t really have anyone to blame but himself.

- He knows that he should *technically* count as a monster, but him and Quick are in support of the humans.

King Hippo

Tulpa - Boxer

- He was created by a little boy who loved boxing, and created him. Giving him a backstory and a cool design. He thought about him so much that he just. Spawned one day.

- The only thing on his mind was boxing, so that’s what he did. He has no idea that he was just a figment of some random kid’s imagination, but I doubt he’d care (or believe it) if he was told. His only goal is to box.

- Not really involved in any of the WVBA human/monster drama. He’s rather quiet outside of the ring.

- Nobody is really clear what he is, but everyone has mutually agreed that he’s not human. No way.

Piston Hondo

Human - Boxer

- Everyone who knows him has a lot of respect for Hondo. He fights fair, and his technique was able to beat actual superhumans (granted, some of those wins may have circumstantial).

- Some of the other boxers are really confused as to how he can keep his ranking, and make speculations as to how he does it, but no one can come up with a solid theory.

- Unless he’s exposed to be a dirty trickster like Ryan, or doped up like Soda, everyone just has to respect the insane effort he puts in.

- Hondo is oblivious to the fact that the WVBA is infested with monsters, and has always thought that international boxing would naturally have more difficult opponents. Nobody knows what would happen if he found out, but nobody wants him give up if he did. Just about everyone (regardless about what side they’re on) will band together to keep Hondo in the dark.

Bear Hugger

Werewolf - Boxer

- He’s more or less happy with being a werewolf. Obviously he’s mad when he has to lock himself up during the full moon, but otherwise he’s chill.

- Essentially a Disney princess with how well he gets along with wildlife. Like. It’s actually insane.

- Thought he’d do well in boxing, so quite literally trained with bears before going to NY. He thinks it’s noisy and polluted, but stays to hopefully bring down the champion and take the belt home to show his friends.

- Cheers on everyone, regardless of what they are. He doesn’t really care about the fate of the WVBA and is just there for a good time.

Great Tiger

Human - Informant/Boxer

- A skilled magic user. He’s been learning since he was a little kid, and the jewel on his turban gives him a good chunk of extra power.

- Uses his tricks to get intel and feed it to Joe.

- He *LOVES* to stir the pot. He knows that he’s safe, and may even stick out his neck for Joe, but will never do anything that’ll put himself in harms way.

- In the same vein he’s always listening to drama. He will gossip like a high schooler, and he knows everything about everyone. He loves being cheeky and keeping other boxers in the dark about what he knows.

- Literally the personification of “🎶I know something that you don’t know~🎵”

- He’s basically on an even playing field, so has no trouble keeping his place in the major league. Honestly, he’s more in it to see how this drama will play out, and who’ll come out on top.

Don Flamenco:

Siren - Matador/Boxer

- He very much using his ability to charm people all the time.

- This includes getting the ref to give him decision wins (even if he doesn’t deserve it), and always to leave a good first impression on just about everyone he meets.

- Yes, sometimes it’s also to pick up ladies (and men? Sometimes? Depends on his mood…) but will never go too far with it.

NOTE: While I think it would be totally in character for him to sleep with them, I don’t want that for him since that’s not consensual. so let’s say that despite seeing humans as lesser he doesn’t want to cross that line. (For his *own* sake of course. The last thing he would do is use tricks to woo “lesser creatures” to bed with him.)

- He’ll whisper under his breath after taunting, convincing the opponent to throw the match. But he’s not great at it, and will sometimes encounter someone who doesn’t have great hearing. He usually loses those matches.

- Wants an all-monster WVBA. He can manipulate just about anybody, and generally sees humans as lesser (Unless they’ve proven to him otherwise, like Joe and Hondo) so he wants them out.

- He’s very charming and friendly, but if you get on his bad side he is NASTY. Like ruin all your relationships and steal yo girl/man nasty. (He keeps all that under wraps though, he can’t have his image be tarnished.)

Aran Ryan:

Human - Boxer

- To everyone’s surprise, he’s actually human. But for all the craziness he projects out in the ring, he’s a smart guy.

- He taunts boxers by trying to get them to hit him because he knows that one wrong move and they’d expose themselves. If they hit him too hard (he figures that one punch would be enough to kill him with their strength) he might die but knows that it’ll be hell to pay for their opponent as well.

- Same with the headbutts, it throws them off their rhythm because they need to react, even if they didn’t feel it.

- That’s why he cheats, because he knows that without it he’d stand no chance.

- But still, you can’t be asking people you know could kill you easily to hit you and be mentally stable. He’s still eccentric about making it as a boxer, this is just an extra challenge to him.

- Has a disdain for monsters, and will do just about anything he can to gain in upper hand in those fights. That flail has gotten him out of a few sticky situations.

Soda Popinski:

Human - Boxer

- He can only compete fairly (at world circuit level at least) because he’s doped up to hell and back.

- Way into the idea of the ‘indomitable human spirit’. He truly believes that human ingenuity can overcome any challenge, and this is no exception.

- He 100% wants to get monsters out of the WVBA. But because he knows that he’s already got a big enough target on his back for cheating he can’t make a big fuss publicly.

Bald Bull:

Minotaur - Boxer

- Nobody’s really sure where he came from, but some people have seen him in his Minotaur form and that’s been enough for the others to accept them onto their side.

- He’s close with a lot of the other monsters, and follows along with their plan to have monsters take over the WVBA circuits. He only does so for them, he doesn’t have a personal agenda.

- This is the first place he’s really felt accepted, so will do what his friends ask of him even if he isn’t entirely on board with it.

- That said, he does belittle the human competitors quite often. To their face and while they aren’t present.

Super Macho Man:

Dragon - Supermodel/Bodybuilder/Boxer

- Got tired of living in a cave, and made it to LA to see what had become of humanity.

- By god, he loved it. He’d chosen a particularly handsome form (even though he didn’t know it at the time) and loved the attention he got from the ladies. He quickly picked up on our customs and had plenty of gold to sell (after years of hoarding it up in a mountain somewhere, he figured that now was the time to use it).

- Always wears enchanted golden jewellery, because the last thing he wants is for his facade to slip. He doesn’t need all of it, but to him it’s a necessary precaution.

- He can breathe fire. He does it often as a party trick, and has even figured out how to change its colour.

- His skin is also very hot to the touch. You’d think he was always just finishing with an intense workout.

Mr. Sandman:

??? - Boxer

- Nobody knows, and nobody is brave enough to ask. He seems to beat monsters with relative ease, so everyone assumes he must be one as well, but nobody can figure him out.

- Everyone wants to keep him out of what’s happening, because he’s a loose canon. Nobody knows who’s side he belongs to and nobody wants to find out they’re his enemy.

PLEASE HELP ADD ONTO THIS IF YOU HAVE ANY IDEAS BECAUSE IM EXPLODING OVER THIS

[lucid-ivory]

COD men & equestrian reader

characters: ghost, soap, gaz, price & alejandro X female reader

genre: fluff, platonic, slight crack?

format: bullet headcanons/ bullet fanfic idk

summary: one of the operators of the task force seems to be *too* good at horse riding and it's the last thing they expected

notes: reader is young, this is for all the equestrians if there are any in this fandom😭 and characters may be a bit ooc + this is very long and VERY specific

ghost

has never ridden horses, wasn't planning on it

saw you as somebody interesting when he first saw you on a big horse

you seemed really confident so he just went along with it

little did he know

he was gangsta until you started cantering

like okay, maybe you just wanted to impress your teammates since everyone was watching

he knows shit about position, leg aids and all that so you could be doing anything wrong and he wouldn't realize

he slightly raises his eyebrows when he sees you approaching a big ass jump

like where u goin?????

it's one of those 1.30m oxers

he thinks you're taking it too far

he was already impressed by your skills, why would you jump that high

he's prepared to see you on the ground

obviously a horse goes faster the higher the jump is

the fact that you keep up with the animal is already making him feel like "huh?"

when he sees the horsey getting on his two legs and ready to jump he feels humbled

you're perfectly fine, you can keep up with the horse's speed and you seem proud of yourself

by this point it's already obvious that it wasn't your first time

now that he sees your confidence and level, he would like to see you jumping higher

he doesn't really know how high a horse can jump anyway

(for general knowledge, the record is 2,47meters)

after a few more small and bigger jumps, you go for one that's 1.50m

(which is usually the height of competitions)

you do it casually, enjoying the moment. the horse jumps well and looks sick as fuck, which equestrians call "scope"

so you yell out

"SCOPEY!"

smiling all wide and happy

he mishears it and thinks you're talking about somebody scoping with a sniper or something

everything is going smooth, the horse listens to you and you are humiliating many olympic riders because you are "y/n" and y/n is perfect

the horse is fast, very fast and you're going for the next jump again

but who is y/n without a bit of trouble

the horse refuses to jump, stopping abruptly right in front of the obstacle

but you stayed on because you're cool like that

it did "shake" you a little, you were preparing yourself for a jump after all

but your seat is great and you managed to control the horse

ghost was scared, not expecting the animal to stop at that speed

you knocked a few poles and he offered to put them back for you

you're a crazy bitch so you decided to ride a young horse

and young horses are sometimes spicy

bucking, rearing or getting scared for everything

he's surprised at how calm you look when the horse is like a bull around the arena

when you finally lose your balance and fall off, you manage to fall smoothly on your feet

he's scared, thought you were going to be hurt

"DID YOU SEE THAT?"

how were you so calm?

you just fell off

the horse is still bucking around the arena and you're laughing

soap

i have 0 idea of scottish dialect

in fact i cannot understand it if a scottish person speaks to me so this will be hard

soap is next to ghost, he sees you jumping

you know the position riders do in order to jump? almost standing up and bending over the horse's neck

he checks you out for a milisecond when you do that

apart from that, he's impressed

why are you flying

how are you keeping yourself on the animal with only two irons on your feet and holding some leather in your hands

get down from there

you're just smiling while casually jumping 1.50m

when the horse stopped in front of the jump, he almost screamed

"shit"

he just murmured

smirked when he saw how you stayed on

gg well played

ghost put the poles up for you again after you knocked them down and smiles slightly as you struggle to convince the horse to jump

great horsemanship, or horsewomanship

you let the horse approach the jump and smell it so they calm down

he has no idea what's going on but he thinks you're very gentle for that

eventually you make it over that jump and he feels very happy for you!

then you fall off and he thinks it's badass how you fell on your feet

STANDING UP

so you get on again

when you're done jumping and you're trotting around, you want to show off

"did you see that, Lt?" he asks Ghost, and he simply nods.

while trotting, you play a little bit with the horse's controls

WASD to move shift to crouch ctrl to run ,,, jk

you start doing little dressage tricks

those ones that look so elegant and the horse is almost dancing

passage, piaffe, etc (look that up, it's BEAUTIFUL).

the horse is so cutely and smoothly bouncing and you're embracing the elegance

this is all probably happening while you're in your spec ops gear but it's okay

soap is surprised, ghost next to him simply admires

"why is the horse doin' that?"

he thinks it's pretty, but why and how would a horse move like that

"oh, you're telling him to do that?"

then he realizes you're the one using your legs and amazing skills to make the horse do all that

would like to see you in the classic equestrian competition look

gaz

okay what the fuck

he now understands where all of your leg & core strength is coming from

mans is flabbergasted but secretly wants to keep looking at you

i headcanon that he did ride horses in one of those school trips maybe or something of sorts

and i don’t think he would want to do it again

when you’re about to fall at that speed in front of the jump he’s a bit scared for you, immediately feeling the relief when you’re still on and not on the ground

when you actually do fall but it’s obvious you didn’t get hurt he simply smiles

he knew it was going to happen

but then you got on the horse again and he was like ???

why?

he appreciates your enthusiasm but visibly relaxes when you stop jumping and you stick to a more slow pace

“are you trying to impress us?”

girl you were in full uniform geared up & everything and you casually made the horse do the most complex and supreme movements that literally any other rider would kill for

you DID NOT do that for your own pleasure

gaz did appreciate a little bit more the horse’s posture

y’know ‘collection’ and all that, when the horse walks all pretty with their head down

he was not as clueless as soap and that’s why he teased you

you simply giggled and he smiled in response

now…

why was the horse drifting how did you do that

the horse was casually trotting but you did a few subtle changes (that he didn’t see) and now the horse trots in diagonal

almost crossing his feet while trotting

HOW

he raises his eyebrows

he thinks that this is a useless trait for a soldier cuz i’m telling you no police horse does cute little steps like wth

but even if it’s a useless trait for a soldier, it’s a great ability for who he considers almost a sister

he’s very happy for you and constantly cheers you up and then may ask a question or two about how did you do that

the moment you start explaining technically with all the “WELL YOU PUT YOUR OUTSIDE LEG AND THEN THE HEAD HAS TO LOOK SLIGHTLY INTO THE INSIDE WITHOUT BENDING THE NECK—“ he gets scared

he thought it was easier

+10 appreciation because it really is hard

price

let me tell you this man is almost shaking

he trusts your skills but he knows you're also young and you may not act responsible in order to just feel adrenaline or to impress somebody

while you jump, he holds his breath and then he releases it when you actually land perfectly

just like gaz, he relaxes a lot when you stick to the slower pace

he loves to see your reflexes in other contexts, such as riding

very proud of how you fell on your feet when the horse was bucking but appreciated it even more when you actually wanted to get on again

since this man is older i think he would have ridden horses in his golden era but not as in equitation, more like simply going for trail rides

he considers everyone in the team his little siblings, and since you appeared he may have this father instinct

he helps you with the stirrups and to tighten the girth

loves seeing you happy while riding, he thinks you deserve it knowing how young you are and how easier it is for you to get stressed with all the work

he tells everybody not to approach the horse's back because they may kick

"the horse has a green ribbon on his tail. he's young" he explains proudly to the rest of the team

(he didn't know shit about this, you told him about the ribbon meanings a while ago)

I HAVE THIS FEELING THAT HE WOULD RECORD YOU AND ACCIDENTALLY GET HIS FINGER ON THE CAMERA

this man would probably ride with you

"i don't need a saddle, i'm used to riding bareback"

he does need a saddle.

i feel like if he rides with you and he trots or something he would slightly hurt his back because his position wouldn't really be great

(there was a time where my back hurt like hell too because i didn't know how to canter properly LMAO)

would count strides with you between each jump

i feel like he would like english thoroughbreds

man worships secretariat probably (he'd be so real for that)

jockey potential

don't talk to him about technique

he genuinely thinks it's stressing

the whole "outside rein inside leg, shoulders back, chin up, heels down" shit is very much complex to him

he actually thinks that he would be able to race a horse

can't lie, i think so too (i almost fall while walking)

would pat the horse when you stand next to him

when you dismount, if you are the kind of person that kinda just throws themselves off the horse (i have no idea how to gently and normally dismount) he'll be behind you to slightly grab your waist or back to keep you in place in case you lose balance

ALL PLATONIC

when you're done riding he offers to keep you company while you go to the horses stall

he thinks the horse is following you because you're not holding the reins or anything and he's surprised at the bond between you and the animal

he doesn't know that YOU are actually following the horse because he just wants to go to his stall and eat

when the horsey starts eating, price would approach him and look at him

would be startled when the horse has his ears laying flat on his skull

horsey doesn't want anybody near his food

would help you carry the saddle

if he's brave enough he will try and give a carrot to the horse

if you start picking the hooves after riding, he would be slightly concerned

"does this hurt the horse"

he is like a man proud of his daughter

100% would go to see you in competitions

alejandro

GRRRRRRRR

"vamos, vaquera!"

he would constantly try to cheer you up and would smile widely while you do your "little" jumps

would probably prefer western riding because y'know... los vaqueros

he would probably crush on you a little

i feel like he saw showjumping many times but he is still surprised to see a horse jumping that high in person

i think he's almost the only one that isn't scared when he sees you jumping. if you approach the big jumps so confidently then you know what you're doing

he would actually want to ride with you too, he's so excited

wants to feel like a true vaquero and the first step is riding a horse

i'm sure he focuses on your legs and sees the aids and cues you give to the horse to make different tricks or play with his speed

he looks at your posture and everything like he knows about it or something

he's the kind of person that would surprise you

horses tend to follow each other so whatever you do with your horse, his horse does it with him.

you look back at him when you are both cantering and you smile AT HOW GOOD HE IS

his hips sway back and forth smoothly following the horse's back

his lower leg moves a little but nothing too serious

you felt like he was really close to jumping the 1.50 and reveal he was a showjumper too or something

and the rest of the team didn't expect alejandro to be so good either

you lower the jumps to like 0.50m and you both try to jump

he doesn't jump it perfectly, but he doesn't fall either

impressive for a beginner

trust me he did try to ride your horse and do the same dressage tricks as you but it didn't really work

quickly dismounted after that, he saw the horse bucking and doesn't wanna fall off

after that, i feel like he would get more interested in barrel racing and other western disciplines

he wants to take off the helmet and ride with those cowboy hats.

(saveahorserideacowboy)

you don't let him do that

dangerous D:

he appreciates it, thinks you care a lot for him

he thinks riding together is a new form of bonding for you two.

that was long, i warned all of you

please remember that my requests are open and i'd love to see and write what anyone says!

[defectivefanboy]

Hey there! I’ve read a few of your posts now and I truly enjoy your writing, you’re very good at it ^^

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

If not, that’s completely alright! I hope you have a great rest of your day <3

~ 🕷️🕸️

yessir!! this is actually the first time (and second for good measure) that I watched Beetlejuice fully through.

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and I don't mind female readers on my blog, I do not write for y'all, and if you are a fetishizer fuck off????????????????? ew.

C/W: Cursing, Mentions of Pervertedness, its Beetlejuice, You're canonical Jesus Christ /j, or am I?, Dark humor, Possessive Alastor, Mentions of Bite marks, Dirt ball reader, just reader being gross here and there, nothing too much, youre Beetlejuice, reader has universal rizz

Notes: If you read the C/W warnings it was real late leave me alone. you'll understand when you get there. writing this my mind kept straying and just wanted to write Alastor love because god holy fuck I love him. Im an actual slut for domestic alastor I could write him all day.

The Radio Show...

Oh he's truly interested in you. Not remotely romantic or even platonically, but he is interested (at least at first)

Lets be real quick, he knows hes in hell, but what IN the hell is he looking at.

And what was that outfit you were wearing??? Did you just get out of prison prom???

But your first meeting with him was... interesting to say the least

But then again I think all your interactions are interesting (always more, never less)

But damn. He just had to think the 'sinner' was new to hell and could easily get a quick bite

Poor Alastor really thought the 'sinner' that looked around hell like a lost child as he strolled up with his uncanny smile

Last thing he expected was a jumpy, sporadic, and unfortunately a bit more then a little bit of a pervert.

The record stopped more than a few time at your comments–- Sorry Alastor.

And it had only been a few minutes of meeting you (rip)

And to be honest with you. come here. little closer

He did not know what in all of hell you were trying to pitch to him

He couldn't even get a word in with how fast you talked

And how many voices you did, you basically had a conversation to yourself.

"Ghost can't even scare humans away anymore, pfft. Can't you believe that shit. The last jack offs wouldn't even call me, I had to get some human girl to do it. Is it weird it happened twice? Second time her mom was dead! Gets funnier each time."

Oh?

Humans?

Now you have his interest

And you were able to travel to the human world

"So you're a hell born demon then, correct?" Alastor asked quirking a brow at the questionable individual in front of him, who quickly stopped talking to, well, themselves and snapped their head to him. They seemed to had just gotten here... or gotten back, as their clothes were slightly tussled and their hair was flying everywhere

With a quick dusting of your clothes you straightened your posture. Clearing your throat you spoke in a flat monotone voice. "Well, no actually, uhm, I was born in a manger inside of a barn, my mother, was a virgin and my step father Jospeh was a real piece of work let me tell you that. Died for your sins, y'know, should be thanking me."

This is the first time the radio show had gone radio silent... before he walked away.

Alastor had met a lot of demons, probably killed even more.

Hell he has even put up with that horny spider, but this was the first time he had to take a breather from another sinner? demon? enigma?

But damn it all to hell, he was curious

He had been for so long and he had only interacted with lower hellborn demons.

The occasional Goetia or hell royal would make a public appearance, but that that was all.

Never had he interacted with someone who went from hell to the human world on the daily

The first few meetings he truly tried to keep his distance, keyword tried

But you can only keep a person who teleports around at a distance for some long

Though it to end in you being pushed back by his microphone when you got a bit too close on accident more often then not

But overall he enjoys each of your meetings, enjoy being used loosely

He was more interested in the ever changing world of humans

You only get as knowledgeable of the new world as it comes in, but you have to find them

So having a way to always keep updated he truly enjoyed.

He kinda saw you as, well, while he would say a mole, as you get him information

Not that you honestly realize, you kinda just talk about random shit

He sees you as well, as uh, ahem...

"Quite the squirrelly fellow you are, aren't you?" He quipped with a smile on his face. The both of you walking along one of the many roads of hell as you talked about your latest excursion to the human world. Giving him a confused look you gave him a side eye a you spoke. "Now, what do you mean by that, hm? I don't storage tree nuts in my cheeks, I storage metal nuts in them." Taking your hand you drug into your cheek and pulled out a rusted nut before offering it to him. In which he squatted away with his microphone.

"No."

Alastor in or out of a relationship now seems like the calm one out of the pair whenever you two are together

And he always has a tilt to his head whenever he's with you as if he's always curious about your next move (well bc he honestly is)

Getting into a relationship is simple to him, but not to you.

He had to explain a few times (many times) to you that you two were on a date while out. Thank the lord he has more patience then he let's on

Truly he's only patient with you after learning he'll get no where either way

He tried threatening at one point, but it didn't work when you tried getting him to work for you in the human world.

Spoiler alert: that also didn't work

Alastor did tried to ask you out in a traditional way. Taking you to dinner, albeit at a cannibal restaurant, he really didn't know what you ate

He was disgusted when he found out, almost gagged, had to take a moment for himself

But he tried asking you out in a nice, classy, quiet place.

Spoiler again: didnt work

His question when right over your head.

"Go out? Aren't we already out? What we doing then? How more out do you wanna be? Gotta say though, never been to a place this fancy, must got some walking cash, huh? You know we could start a business together I be the brains, face and you can be..." You droned on as your hand flared around as you spoke. Alastor stared at you as static rumbled from his chest, one eye twitching in annoyance. Sighing he shook his head as he stared with a smile. Maybe you didn't understand what he was asking, or maybe you did. To be honest he doesn't know how much you know, but maybe letting you go on about whatever it is you're planning and get a deal out of you.

Nothing big, just a small pact that you two are "partners."

Cheeky Bastard.

He did tell you eventually someday, he's not heartless

Don't mention that it was after he had convinced you to move in his home (or apartment?? he staying at the hotel?? like??)

But it's another story for getting you to take a shower or a bath.

While Alastor isn't a clean freak or anything he much rather keep his house clean and smell free.

Alastor had quite a few sleepiness nights when you decided to sneak into his bed without a shower.

He almost banned you from the house until you agreed to take a shower after 'work'

now onto the good part

While he doesnt enjoy physical touch from anyone, only part taking in it when he's making someone uncomfortable

He settled on the fact you were gonna keep making every effort to get into his personal space

You only found out he enjoyed having you near him when your items from the guest room you had been staying in were now in his room

Be it having a hand placed on the middle of your back or letting you fiddle with his fingers as you talk

He always finds a way to get a touch in on a daily basis

What can he say? he likes to have a hold on what's his

That's another thing

He's a possessive lover, or person in general but ignore that right now

He just doesn't understand

Why do you have so much rizz

Both sinners and hell born demons seem to love you

And he hates it

Loathes it

If we wanted to get Nsfw real quick

He likes to leave bites and marks on you so even humans know where you belong <3

Going back to sfw

On the outside, beyond the walls of his home. He's well, he's Alastor

Cunning, Cruel, and Evil

But inside? .......Hey Siri, can you domestic a deer?

We already know he enjoys cooking, his mothers recipes are always a hit. He does have to convince you to eat something if it's new.

But he's decently domestic within the comfort of his own walls. As domestic as he can be will a feral dog in his home now. At least you're potty trained, right? Right??

He always enjoyed being alone, especially when he needed a break.

But as weird as it was for the first few months

Going to bed alone in a quiet home, everything neat and orderly was always a treat for the

just to wake up to a god awful mess like a hurricane had hit only the inside of the house.

Thankfully he's unable to fully freak out when he feels the weight of a body laying on him.

Arms wrapped securely in place as he moved around trying to view the full scope of the mess.

The look of defeat only rested on his face for a moment before he was pulled down by striped arms.

"What are staring at, red?..." You said half asleep as you pulled on the back up his shirt collar. "it's still too early to worry about the mess. Come back to bed" He gently shook his head in disgust opening his mouth to speak before getting cut off by a strong pull of his shirt. "I was setting up... sandworm traps. Couldn't't let them get my dearest deer." Alastor gave you a questioning look wanting to ask, but knowing better not too.

Sighing he let himself relax back into the comforter and wrap his arms loosely around as you laid right back on top of him. One of his hands softly treaded through your messy hair causing you to sigh and melt into his body. It was a quiet few moments until he had a passing thought.

"Wait... deer with an A, correct? Correct??"

He wasn't getting an answer from you anytime soon...

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Tyranny of Distance

I'm sorry this update feels late, but I'm so busy with Uni. Also, I'm sorry it's taking so long to get to the end, I had more plot in me than I thought I did. Please comment if you're enjoying yourself.

Part 1, part 2, part 3

Part four of The Way the Stars Love the Heavens series.

Contains: Slow burn, mega angst, violence, blood, death, another cliffhanger. Not beta read, likely full of mistakes.

Follow #the way the stars love the heavens for updates

3.1K words

Grenade - a small bomb thrown by hand or launched mechanically.

You paused in the hallway and looked at the door as your blood ran cold. "What is it?"

You swallowed, you hoped your lie was convincing. "Nothing, I'm just worried about the guys."

The clicking of a holster told you he didn't buy it.

"What gave me away?"

You spun slowly and raised your arms, hoping the gun pointed at you wouldn't go off. 

"Take your pick, you haven't said two words to me until tonight. You managed to make it through a full-on assault that killed everyone else in the building without a scratch in record time, and then you didn't wire the door. They'd have blueprints, they'd know this tunnel is here. Any sane person would have done something to the door to give us a head start."

He huffed. "Smart woman. I don't want to hurt you, if you come with me, nothing will happen to you."

You didn't move, and a rush of sadness came over you. "Where's Arin?"

He shrugged. "Dead. If it makes you feel any better, he died trying to get to you." It was said so coldly, just because you knew his answer would be didn't make it any better.

"Why are you doing this?" You had to get out of there, there was another door in a few feet that opened to another service tunnel, if you could only get to that, you might stand a chance.

"Money, why else." Of course, that was always the answer. He lifted one hand off his gun and put it into his pocket, making a show of taking the object out and waving it around, it was a syringe filled with white fluid. "Now come with me or I'll make you."

You took a deep breath, you would only get one chance to lunge for the syringe. You stepped carefully, keeping your eyes on his hands as you moved closer to him. You took another deep breath as he turned sideways so you could pass in front of him, and you acted. You slammed your shoulder into his chest and managed to knock him against the wall hard enough that he dropped the drugs, and then it was on. He shoved you back, then kicked your legs out from under you and got on top of you while reaching for the syringe.

You twisted your body as much as you could with his weight on top of you and did the same, you were both struggling for the same few millilitres to get it in your grasp. A flash of neck flesh gave you an idea and you kneed him in the side as hard as you could before twisting your head and sinking your teeth into his neck. He screamed, and the second he lifted his weight to detach you, you grabbed the syringe and rammed the needle into his exposed forearm.

It acted fast, his body going limp on top of you as he wiggled out from under him. You finally stood up and kicked him onto his back before using the last bits of his consciousness to whisper a threat into his ear. "I'm going to strip you to you boxers, take everything of use to me then tie you up and leave you here. You wanna hope the fucks find you before the 141 does, because I'm going to make sure they know what you did."

After striping him and tying him up, you stopped to take one of his grenades and used a length of his shoelace to wire to the door so if they opened it, it would blow, then you took whatever else you could from him and continued down the hall to the other service door. You were getting out of here alive, you had no other options.

****

They had lost contact twenty minutes ago and no matter how hard Gaz tried, he couldn't get it back. 

"Something's fucking wrong, I just know it." Ghost had been pacing like a wounded animal waiting for news, but no matter how much he walked, his worry never disappeared. 

"We'll get there brother, anything could have happened, this doesn't mean the worst." Soap knew his words were hollow, contact didn't just go dark and stay that way for no reason. 

"Y/n to Gaz, y/n to Gaz." 

Gaz spun around to find the source of the sound. "Y/n to Gaz, please tell me you can hear me." 

It wasn't his military radio that went off, it was his personal radio he had rigged to pick up his favourite radio station. He had taken apart a two-way radio, removed some parts and added others. It worked fine, the only downside was that it sometimes picked up other signals. 

"What signal wave is that?" The worry was evident in Ghost's voice 

He didn't answer, he was already rushing to dial the truck radio so he could reply. "What's happening? All our other lines are dead." 

"We're under attack. I don't know how many are dead and Peters was a turncoat. I'm in the service tunnels now, I can't talk long but please get back here, it's bad." Your voice was only just above a whisper, they could almost hear your racing heart above your hushed words. 

They were already getting into their humvees and Ghost yanked the radio from Gaz's hands. "We're coming back love, don't you worry. Do you know how many of them there are?" 

He heard you take a deep breath, as if you were steeling yourself. "Nope, but I'm going to see if I can find out. I took one of their radios. I'll report back what I hear."  

Price was shaking his head, half in disbelief and half in approval but Ghost wasn't interested. "No you won't you'll find a place to hide and you'll stay there." Deep down, he knew you wouldn't listen but for his own sanity, he still tried. 

"I can't do that Simon. We'll talk soon." 

He fought the urge to punch the dashboard as he heard the radio click off. "She's got Cajones, I'll give her that." Ghost's glare didn't stop Alejandro from continuing. "We need to know what we're driving into Mano, you can put your heart before your head once we know we're not heading towards an ambush." 

Price nodded. "Get Laswell on the line now and get me sat photos." He looked at the GPS and set his shoulders. "We're making good time, we'll wait over the ridge line and plan until we have the full picture." 

****

Every single bone in your body wanted to listen to Simon and find a place to hide but you had to keep going, if you didn't find out how many men were here, you'd be walking the 141 to their deaths. 

The service tunnels were serving you well, but you were running out of ways to keep the door shut behind you, there was only so much you could do with bits of torn up clothes. 

The radio at your hip crackled and you paused to listen. "She's using the tunnels, find her now." It was the same southern voice, Graves was in the base running the whole thing. The bang in the distance told you it was time to get going but you didn't have many options, you couldn't go backwards and you had no idea if the old janitorial closet down this hall was even there anymore. 

They were coming closer now and the radio cracked again as someone asked for help with the man who had been stupid enough to open the door without checking it first. You turned the radio down, took a deep breath and looked around but the idea didn't come to you until you looked at the ceiling. 

The crawl space. 

All you had to do was shift the ceiling tile to the side with the barrel of the assault rifle, then start at a run to get enough momentum to jump up and grab the edge. Between the weight of the gun and your shaking hands, it took you a few goes to get enough space, but in the end, you did, and you shook your legs out before backing up and rushing full charge as you reached up for the edge of the opening. 

Your fingers grabbed the edge as every muscle in your body tightened to pull you up. You shoved the tile back in place and pressed yourself against the wall to take a breath as the voices got closer. You knew you would have to walk carefully, stick to the supports so you didn't make a sound but the darkness and the shake that was building in your limbs was making it hard. 

"Where the fuck did she go?" They must have been right below you now, you couldn't describe how you felt but you hated it, you didn't know how the guys did it. 

"She must have found another door. Fan out and find her or we're dead." You felt a rush of relief as you heard them leave, you were safe for now. 

****

"FUCK" They had never seen Ghost so uncontrolled before, it was like he was a different person. The satellite photos weren't good, there were five tanks stationed outside the base and they had no idea how many men were inside.

Price put a hand on Ghost's shoulder and gave him a shake. "You need to pull yourself together. Laswell said air support is half an hour out, until then we wait until we get more news from inside."

Ghost shook him off and went back to pacing, they could see the flashing of the guns over the ridge. "The men are putting up a good fight. We've got to trust that they're holding it down." Soap didn't know what help to offer his friend, they all knew the odds of this ending well.

Ghost leaned his weight against the car and took a deep breath, he knew he wasn't going to be any good to anyone like this. "Alright, we need to get in there now, so come on boys, let's come up with a better plan."

****

"There are twenty of us, why the fuck can't we find her?" The bits of information you had been gathering gave you a boost and now that you knew how many men were in the building, all you had to do was wait until the men in the hallway you were crouched above left so you could contact the 141 again. 

It only took a few minutes, but it felt like hours, the waiting making your hands shake and your throat tight as you stock still stood long enough to deliver the news to the guys. When you finally keyed the radio, Ghost's voice came across the line, worry lining it like the metal of a dynamite box. "What's going on?" 

You paused for a second, making sure no one was below you. "I'm in the crawl space in the ceiling. There are twenty men in the building. When I was above the common room, one of them said they brought seventy guys. I don't know how many of them are outside or in other buildings."

You could hear the men talking between themselves, and then Ghost's voice returned. "Can you get the supply closet L?" 

You knew why he was asking, there was a drain in the floor that led all the way to the outside, he was hoping you would leave. You went through the floorplan in your head, that supply closet was on the other side of the building. "I don't think so." A sound below made your heart jump and you lowered your voice as much as you could. "I need to go, someone's coming." 

As quietly as you could, you bent down to look through the vent and caught a gasp in your throat when you saw Graves with two of his men. "Could she have gotten out?" He sounded enraged. 

"We don't fucking know, we can't get into the serivce tunnel. It caved in when the charge went off. Peters is still MIA." There was a tinge of fear in the man's reply. 

"Well fucking find her, that idiot Peters made it clear that if we wanted anything out of the 141 we'd need to use her as a bargaining chip." You followed their voices as they moved away, balancing on the heavy steel supports like a tightrope walker so your footfalls didn't make a sound. The sound of one of the outside doors opening then closing finally gave you a chance to relax for a moment, but the sound of whimpering below you got right back on the ride. 

You found another vent and looked down, your eyes growing wide when you saw Arin trying to crawl his way to his gun, and despite every single survival instinct inside you screaming at you to stay put, you pushed a ceiling tile aside and dropped down with a less than quiet thud, just missing a door off its hinges on the way. 

You ran to him and knelt by him, a small smile appearing on his face as his voice stuttered. "You're alive." 

You nodded. "I am, and I got word to the guys, they're working on it right now." 

You grabbed his hands and brought them to his bleeding chest. "Peters told me you were dead." 

He shook his head and coughed, blood splatting as his chest heaved. "Almost. You gotta get out of here." 

You both knew he wasn't going to make it, he was paling by the second. "I'm not going anywhere." You took the gun slung over your shoulder and placed it next to him, waving your hand as he protested. "I can grab another one. I don't know how many bullets are left." 

He looked from the gun to you and back again. "Go, hurry." He clenched his jaw and hardened his face. "Now." You wanted to stay for a little longer, tell him how thankful you were for your short time together but you could hear footsteps, and suddenly there was no time left. You ran past a body, palming a single grenade before using a blown open door as leverage to pull yourself back up into the ceiling. 

Just as well because the second the tile was back in place, Graves' voice returned to the hallway. "We're making good time boys, I think this day is going to end very..." 

There was a very stubble clink clink and then a horrible bang, and your face stung at the force you used to slap your hand over your mouth as a piece of shrapnel flew into your arm. 

A single shot signalled what you hoped was a fast end for Arin and you pressed yourself against the wall as Graves walked right under you. "These fuckers are a lot harder to kill than we thought. We gotta get back to the control room, I wanna reach out to our old friends." 

The warmth running down your arm caught your attention away as they left, and you ripped some of your shirt for a tourniquet to stem the bleeding so you could keep moving. After some thought, you realised your only option was the medical supply room, you could wire the door with your final grenade, then tip over the steel table and hide behind it. You keyed the radio one last time and hoped it would be good news. "Guys, what's happening?" 

It took a while for a response to come through. "Fucken hell y/n, we thought you were dead." Price's tone was a mix of anger and relief.

"What do you mean?" 

"We heard an all mighty fucking bang and then nothing." The radio must have jostled on when you climbed back up. "We're real close so is air support, you hold tight." 

You swallowed and took a deep breath. "Do you know what you're walking into?" 

"You bet your fucking ass we do. I've been in the mood to kill some tanks since Las Almas." You let out a little chuckle at Soap's reply. 

"Is Ghost there?" You didn't even want to think how he must be feeling. 

"I'm here." You could hear the ease in his voice and then gunshots ran over the radio. "You hear that love? I'm coming to get you." 

You took another deep breath. "I'll be with the cotton rounds." 

Price's orders mixed with the sound of approaching planes. "I'll be there." 

This time, their radio clicked first and you shook off the pain in your arm before continuing on your journey, the end was in sight. 

****

Graves knew he was losing, it was ending just like it started, in a flash so fast it made the sun envious, and this time, he knew he'd have to do more than just put on a show with a tank to get out. He rushed out of the control room with his radio in hand and made his way back to 141 dorms, if he couldn't find you, at least he could taunt Simon with the fact that he was looking for you. 

He threw open the door and marched down the hallway to the kitchen before switching his radio to the single he knew Ghost would be using. "Hello there Lt. Are you having a good day? Because I am." 

"Fuck you. You're a dead man Graves" 

Graves chuckled. "I don't know. I think I'm going to get my hands on your pretty little translator and then you'll just let me walk out. She's a killer now, did you know that? I'm looking at the body now." 

"Yeah? Maybe you'll be lucky and she'll do the same thing to you, that is if I don't get to you first." 

"Yeah, we'll see." 

Little did Graves know, Ghost was already in the base, having split off from the group when the assault started, Graves men were already dying at his hand as he made his way to the 141 dorms. 

Graves shut his radio up and stretched upwards, his eyes catching something on the ceiling as he went. He smiled to himself and followed his hunch, another tiny spot of red appearing above his head a few feet away. He followed the drops all the way to another supply closet, this one with "MEDICAL" pasted right in the middle. 

He knocked on the door like it was any other day and put as much Southern gentleman into his tone as he could. "Hello little mouse, it looks like I've finally found your hiding spot." 

Part 5

@chaos-4baby

[n1ghtfurys]

For the record

Mentions a toxic relationship

(Also I've never done this before so....yeah.)

“For the record this is self destructive” Soaps tone is flat, this has happened so much he's not even shocked anymore. Simon's mad over you, you have a fight, break up and he comes crawling back even when it's your fault. You make him stupid and it grates on Soap like nothing else, the fact that you don't like him doesn't help the situation much either. 

“For the record I'm aware of that.” Ghost replies sounding exasperated, he knows you're bad for him. You like the attention you get, the way he fucks you when he comes back like he's hoping you'll see him as the only guy in the world and in a sense you do. You love him, you really do but you can't help yourself. When it's good it feels too good, so you fuck it up. You know it fucks with him and you know Soap hates you for it but you can't help it. You know one day he might not come back and that terrifies you, you're trying to stop it but old habits die hard right?.

Simon sighs and drags his hand over his face. He knows it's dumb to be so caught up in you but you get him and he can't explain it other than he loves you, loves being with you. Even the stupid bits where you decide you hate him, all the mood swings and screaming and shouting. The make up sex, the cuddling, the way you rake through his hair, how sweet your voice sounds, all of it.

Usually whenever you guys ‘fall out’ he spends the entire time fantasising about what he'll do when he gets back to you, that mixed with the fact that he was on deployment before your last spat has him reeling. He’s nothing if not pent up, the anger doesn't help either. He hasn't been able to get you out of his head, he's lost count of all of the wet dreams and the videos he's replayed. Some of them weren't even sexual, just videos of you smiling at him (from a vacation he took you on a while back).

He shifts his hips, trying to make the way his cock is chubbing up, again, from just the thought of you less noticeable. 

“Si-” Soap begins but Simon cuts him off. 

“For the record I've been picturing her body draped over the sofa wearing nothing but my mask.” He regrets it the minute he says it, he can't stop the way the idea of you like that makes him feel. How it makes his cock throb. 

Soap rolls his eyes and makes an exasperated noise. “For the record.” He mimics clearly annoyed. 

"I'm screwed." Simon knows he's right, he knows the two of you are toxic but he's addicted. Everything about you is so good, and maybe if he keeps coming back you'll realise that whatever fucked up reason you have for treating him like this isn't worth it.

Simon and Soap sit in a charged silence for a while before Soap appears to get sick of Simon's awkward fidgeting. 

Simon gives him a grateful nod before Soap pauses at the door, “For the record, I think you should leave the lass, no matter how bonnie you think she is.”

They both know it fell on deaf ears, not only because he was too focused on how bad he wishes he could push his cock into you instead of his hand but also because they both know he's down bad.

The way Simon's palming at his cock the minute the door clicks shut is honestly pathetic, he wants you so bad it feels like he needs you. He dips into the grey joggers he has on and pulls his aching cock out and gives it a few fast tugs, before pushing his thumb over the tip and smudging the pearly bead of pre like you do.

He bucks up into his hand, your name falling out of his mouth as he imagines it's your soft hand wrapping around the base of his cock. As he wishes it was your tongue circling its sensitive head. 

He drags his hand along the throbbing member remembering the way you clench around him. Envisioning your perfect form bouncing feverishly on his cock, milking him dry.

Before he knows it he's thrusting into his own fist, moaning your name over and over as if it will make his thoughts real while he spills over his knuckles. All while wishing he was cumming into your needy little cunt.

:(

[majjiktricks]

plss gimme the fucked up ocelot/liquid dynamics

i dont know if this is gonna make any sense because i just wrote it in a haze but

i definitely think ocelot is weird about all of the bibo clones. he has way too much fun torturing snavid, and he works closely with solidus during mgs1-2. those two look the most like bibo, so ofc he has a strange attraction to them.

for liquid i think its a little more complicated because a) he met liquid as a child. but he didn't watch him grow up, and i dont think he felt any kind of familial bond with him. he was an annoying little shithead for a few months and then he fucked off into the wilderness to live with a bunch of other feral children.

and b) due to the whole liquid-miller situation. i have a lot of thoughts on ocelhira and how it mightve played out, and half of them contradict the rest, but i do think ocelot genuinely liked kaz and liked working with him. whether or not that was reciprocated is where my contradictory thoughts lie. they likely worked together post-1984 in foxhound, but it's unclear for how long.

so fast forward to 2005 where hes working with liquid, who has grown up into a handsome man who, aside from the hair, is the spitting image of big boss. hes more vindictive and hateful, but still eerily similar. his motivation to create a safe place for the genome soldiers mirrors big boss's goal of a nation of soldiers. and hes willing to blow up the rest of the world to do it. hes got a similar inspirational charisma that lands him leadership of foxhound, commanding the rest of the mgs1 bosses and the entire genome army.

so not only does ocelot draw parallels between him and big boss, which has tangled romance feelings involved, but also when liquid decides to kill miller and impersonate him, ocelot gives him a lot of information in order to be convincing (im assuming). tapes and videos and records to get to know miller better, and ocelot watches him literally transform into a copy of younger miller, very similar in age to when ocelot first met miller. (assuming they met at some point after 1975, kaz wouldve been early 30s, and liquid is also early 30s in 2005).

liquid's impression is of foxhound miller, but its probably still uncanny and takes ocelot off guard. so now hes contending with his past relationship with big boss AND miller, with whatever insane feelings he must have about the two of them focused into one guy.

the entire time this is happening, ocelot is working to undermine the entire plan and conspiring with solidus. so he doesnt fully respect liquid nor does he take him seriously. their interactions with each other feel like ocelot is just going along with whatever liquid says, because liquid thinks hes in charge. ocelot is willing to be insulted and humiliated by liquid to advance the overarching plan. (solidus' to overthrow the patriots using the data stolden from REX, ocelot's to later betray solidus and maintain the patriots. all that fuckery.)

but i think ocelot is having the time of his life during this. it feels like working with big boss. it feels like working with miller. every time liquid puts on the sunglasses or gives an order as the boss of foxhound, its like standing in the room with one of two ghosts that feels entirely real. thats gotta be confusing as fuck. but also hot.

so i think ocelot has a lot of conflicting feelings on liquid but ultimately is attracted to him, not for who liquid is, but for who he reminds ocelot of. its something ocelot can have a little fun with while still achieving his overall goal of supporting the patriots. (until its his turn to overthrow them. jesus christ ocelot why is your plan so convoluted.)

meanwhile liquid i think believes ocelot IS the foolish old man he portrays himself as during mgs1. he didnt respect ocelot when they met in the 80s, and he still doesnt take him seriously in 2005. i dont think liquid is interested in ocelot at all. if anything, it would simply be for the power trip of controlling his father's former right-hand man. possibly feelings of anger/hate from ocelot's close association with big boss. he probably realizes ocelot has some kind of feelings toward him, maybe not realizing the extent of it, but uses this to his advantage. perhaps he even believes this is why ocelot is willing to endure the insults and humiliation.

overall i think their dynamic would be strange, nostalgic pining against a somewhat bitter distrust and disrespect + a mutual feeling of superiority/incompetence.

they both think theyre taking advantage of the other. ocelot wants what he can no longer have, because both miller and big boss are dead. liquid is a stand in for them. liquid thinks hes in charge and in control of shadow moses, and he doesnt take ocelot seriously enough to consider something else is going on behind the scenes. he focuses his anger at big boss towards anyone who was associated with him- snavid, miller, ocelot. they both use each other as proxies to channel strong emotion.

its fucked :]

[localcryptic]

7 and 29 for Ripley and Tal? :]

ooooh these are two of my favorite questions from the list >:) thank you for asking!

7: Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

Tal: i would describe them as a paranoid vengeful ghost. they very rarely feel 100% real/grounded/connected to the world, and i wonder what they think their life will be once they're done with their unfinished business? i doubt they've considered it at all.

tal doesn't like to talk about themself, and they would make a lot of excuses to not do so, but after some thinking they would settle on tired, hardworking, and anxious.

Ripley: i see ripley as defiant, terrified, and passionate. he puts his whole heart into everything, which only makes it more terrifying when everything goes wrong. better to push everyone away and never face the vulnerability than to risk that heartbreak again.

if you tried to ask ripley to describe himself in three words, first he'd tell you "No," (probably while flipping you off), then he'd try to get out of it like "okay, three words: 'some fucking guy?' is that good enough? how about 'self proclaimed cunt'." with a lot of complaining and eye-rolling, he'd say "pissed-off, tired freak." (he's not good with words. and did i mention the defiance? yeah.)

29. What recurring dreams do they have?

(other than the sidestep typical recurring dreams, of course.)

Tal: tal dreams of faceless people and body-less hands. they dream of being the last person on earth. in their dreams, they always run too slow and speak too quietly, and even when they try to scream, it comes out as a stage whisper. they dream of glass boxes, display cases, a Los Diablos out of a museum diorama where the clouds are too fluffy and the light is too fluorescent. the people are plastic and the eyes are gawking back at them through the glass.

on the rare occasion they have a good dream, they dream of Ortega. simple pleasures. skin against skin without fear. on a good night, they could feel her hair in their fingertips as they braid it. hear her laugh recorded in a memory and remember the warmth as they press their lips to the back of her neck. on a good night, they could feel vivid, real and whole for a moment. but mostly, in their dreams, they are nothing. faceless and static and alone.

Ripley: ripley is especially prone to nightmares. being trapped. restrained. paralyzed. nightmares about the buzz of hot metal against his teeth, about freefall. the suspense of weightlessness, and the dread, because he knows what will come next, by universal law. he dreams of falling. falling. falling. a landing that knocks the wind out of him, hitting his head against the cold exam table beneath him, writhing, strapped in place. he dreams about blood in his mouth and a smile on his face.

he dreams of an endless cycle. trapped → escaped → free → captured → trapped. he isn't sure which part of the cycle he is in by the time he wakes up. he dreams of cinderblocks. and running. running as fast as he can, as far as his legs will take him, hoping those familiar restraints don't come for his ankles, dragging him down. dragging him away. dragging him back.

in his good dreams, he feels powerful. he has sunlight on his face and wind in his hair. his lungs are full of fresh air and he doesn't have anything to be afraid of. he still runs in these dreams- he can't imagine a life where he isn't running from something. but his weightlessness is ever fleeting joy and pride, without all the weight of guilt and anger he's used to. he wakes up from these dreams just as shaken as he wakes up from nightmares.

(sorry for the unbelievably long answer and THANKS SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! the ask list is here!)

[taz-ma-raz-skylar]

I tried my best to translate the interview from Tikitakas!

( Mario Espinosa de los Monteros took the interview and uploaded it on March 29, 2024 08:42 CET)

Taz Skylar, the canary who triumphs on Netflix: "One Piece gave me an interspatial rocket with which I travel between planets"

The actor reviews his life with Diario AS and tells how he has left everything he had, several times, until he played Sanji, one of the protagonists of the series.

Personality, desires and ambitions are always cooked on a low heat. The pillars that support an individual are built brick by brick. The pillar of the past seems to be over, but every second something new is added. The one of the now is the closest and the most fictitious, because it gets out of hand before it can touch it. And the one of the future is raised by a ghost. That's how complex the reality is. Taz Skylar makes it simple: he steals his own bricks and assembles an excavator. It puts it in sixth gear, rams and destroys everything. Then, he collects the debris and begins to build again: a pillar in the shape of a scriptwriter, another with the appearance of an actor, another as a surfboard manufacturer. "You don't have to know everything, you just have to know what the next thing you have to do."

Taz plays the chef Sanji in the adaptation that Netflix has made of One Piece, the best-selling manga in history - so say the Guinness records - but to get there he has had to give a few strokes to his life. Today it is difficult to present it, but we will say that, among all things, he is a great actor who has been reinventing his life since he had the power to do so.

When we remember the life of Taz, who at 28 years old is still insultingly young, we see the times he has done and undone his way. His father is an Arab of Lebanese origin born in Sierra Leone, and his mother from Yorkshire (England), but he was born in Tenerife. As a child, "I didn't have too many friends" and "I spent all day on the internet, reading and watching videos." He was an introverted person who began to cook his imagination. He wasn't good at soccer or basketball, he was afraid of water and didn't run fast. The school wasn't his thing. He was diagnosed with dyslexia. Now he parachutes on Sundays, he is a black belt in taekwondo and has four series in production.

Leave everything to get somewhere.

At only 15 years old he started the excavator: he found an escape form in surfing, left school and went to Australia to repair boards. My whole life has been that. I'm leaving school and I'm going to Australia. I get there and look for my life. I'm running out of visa. Where am I going now? To California, come on. Then where? To San Sebastian." In this last city, capital of Guipúzcoa, he came to settle. "I was 18 years old and a little house, my car, a schedule that allowed me to train and travel." But he changed it to go to London "to live in a house shared with five people that had leaks on the roof and a bucket in the corner where the water fell." He wanted to be a screenwriter because he told the stories of the surfers to sell the boards. He broke with everything.

"When I went to Australia I didn't have much to lose, at most I was thrown there. But I was fifteen years old and I didn't look starving, someone was going to give me food and water." That's why, when he left San Sebastián, he felt that he was sacrificing something for the first time. "In London my bed was an Ikea sofa bed with a sleeping bag on top. I remember getting there and saying 'what the fuck did I just do'. I threwat everything I had in the trash and changed it for that, simply because I would like to be a screenwriter." Why did you hesitate that time, after years of knocking down pillars? "It's harder to give an axe to your life when it's tolerable. That is, it is easier to cut the head of nothing to achieve a lot, than to cut the head of something with the possibility of staying in nothing. There's the danger, in having something." Well, cutting heads on their way to London.

Question: Would you have gotten to where you are without maintaining that attitude?

Answer: "No, crazy, not at all. If I hadn't kept it, I don't know what would have happened to me. Basically I have a very intense energy, I have analyzed it a lot and I am aware that, if it were not because I have the ability to put my energy into positive things, I could easily have ended up badly, a person very addicted to things that are not good. Luckily I'm addicted to good things. If it weren't for this attitude, I could easily have been in a circle of bad things."

The beginnings in London were difficult. The change to urban life, too. Taz wrote and wrote. He enlisted in the Army reserves, but suffered a traffic accident and did not pass the medical exam. Then, he wrote and wrote, and released a play called Warheads, which explores the life of a soldier before and after the war and the post-traumatic stress it generates. Warheads was nominated for the Olivier (the most prestigious theater award in the United Kingdom) and the leaks of his house, the sleeping bag and the Ikea mattress made sense. Now yes.

Q: You say that Warheads changes your life completely.

A: "Yes. It was the moment when I felt that I could take the world outside me and put my will on it. In England, theater is very important for culture and Olivier is a literary prize for a very cultured person. For me, as a person who felt with an uneducated complex for not having gone to school, for always having spelling mistakes and for having a way of writing that no one understood, it was like an 'ah, I don't have to be intelligent in the conventional way to be able to aspire to have a prize'. Suddenly, everyone around me took me seriously. A door was opened that led to another staircase that led to another floor. I saw very new things and I was able to enter rooms that I had not entered before."

Q: If that changes your life, what does One Piece do with it?

A: "Warheads gave me a car. I was walking through life, and suddenly I had a car. One Piece took the car, threw it through a ravine and gave me an interspatial rocket with which I travel between planets. I talk all day with my best friend Vincent about how absurd it is and the number of opportunities and beautiful things we can do now. We are not taking it as if it were normal. We look into each other's eyes and say 'I can't believe this is happening'. And that's happening every day."

"But the One Piece thing was very fast. When One Piece announced the characters, that night I was at the theater in London doing a play, and when I entered the dressing room during the break, I saw my cell phone doing 'backflips' (it makes a gesture of an uncontrollable spiral with my index finger). I was followed by 1,000 people per minute. The transition from the car to the rocket was very fast, from one day to the next he had 200,000 followers. Although followers are not a way to govern your life, there I could see the difference so instantaneous. When the promos came out, people began to recognize us more, but in the Canary Islands they still asked me if I was still making boards. He was completely alien. But when the series came out, we already had the rocket mounted and they pressed the button. When I returned to Tenerife, the fruit shop asked me for photos."

Taz plays Sanji, the cook of the crew of the pirate ship on which the One Piece manga is based, which is something like a 'Japanese-a-ye' comic. Netflix has made an adaptation of the illustrated work to a Live Action, a series with real actors. His character is one of the best known, most beloved, most charismatic. In the previous video, Taz puts a black belt on the character he plays. His character fights with kicks, so he had to learn martial arts in record time.

Q: You added the taekwondo to your list of things to learn

A: "I feel many times that I do everything in a mediocre way, but I don't do anything very well. There's something very nice about that. I took the taekwondo as an example for this. Because when you get your greatest growth is from white to black belt, but once you are in black, the improvements become very difficult, as if very perfect. That is, I go from 0 to 10 from white to black, but the 11th, which is perfection, I am not so interested, only in some aspects. I don't think you can have an 11 in everything, maybe in your life you can only have an 11, or two at most. But not everything can be an 11. I have a lot of fives, a couple of eights, a few ten, and I still don't have an 11, but that's what I'm in."

If we attribute each copy sold (more than 500 million) to one person, the readers of One Piece would considerably exceed the population of the United States and would be more than 10 times that of Spain. In the face of this mass phenomenon...

Q: Are you afraid that Taz will become Sanji? That the character stars with you?

A: "Yes, it is not a fear as such, but it is something that all of us (the rest of the actors of the series) have in mind and to which we are all vulnerable. But look, if that happens, not so bad, because we won't be able to complain about a life like that, it's still a beautiful life. In my case, since I have never fallen into what people thought was going to fall, I have a feeling that it is not a real problem for me. I may be wrong, but between the first and second seasons of One Piece I have made a series and two movies that have nothing to do with the character of Sanji. I have four series in production that have nothing to do with the world of One Piece. I don't say it in an arrogant way, but confident of myself or aspiring to be sure of myself."

Q: The Live Action of other series have not been as successful as yours. Why One Piece, yes?

A: "Two reasons based on my analysis. Matt Owens, the showrunner and lead screenwriter, is a true fan of the anime, he wants the anime with all his heart and the anime knows it better than most fans."

Taking care of the smallest detail, the producers of Live Action contacted One Piece content creators to ask them about the production and script of the series. One of them was Artur - The Library of Ohara, who helped in "the process of writing the script, mainly for the story, the 'Easter Eggs' and the timeline." He appears several times in the podcast 'Radio Pirata', where he demonstrates his knowledge and, ultimately, why he received a call from Netflix.

Taz continues explaining the first reason: "Matt, while making the series, put his artistic opinion on it, and at the same time kept everything he loved about intellectual property. That's not something that everyone can do. It wouldn't have been the same series without Matt, he knew deeply what he wanted from each character and who was going to play it. He took great care of us and gave us the tools to bring from the characters what we wanted. I went one day and I told him 'Matt, I want to do all the fights, I don't want to be bent'. I tell him like a 25-year-old boy who has never gone to school, who has not studied theater or done action dubbing in his fucking life. He took and looked at me with all the confidence in the world and said: 'Okay, let's do it.'"

Q: And the second reason?

A: "The cast of actors, the set of what we five are, is the other reason. I'm sorry because we're all very different, but since only one of us is missing, it's not the same in interviews, organizing anything, recording... The fact that we are different makes us complement each other perfectly. There is something very special that happened with the symbiosis of the five of us, we are really friends, which is not something as common as you would expect in this world. We are really friends and we take great care of ourselves both inside and outside the series."

Two weeks after the premiere, Netflix announced that a second season of One Piece's Live Action would be filmed. There are many important characters left to appear, protagonist characters who will be incorporated into the second season.

Q: Is that good relationship and connection between actors a requirement to be part of the cast in the second season?

R: "It's a good question. Yes, I know that's part of the conversations, but we don't decide or think about who it will be. We hear the conversations and talk inside them (Taz laughs, he seems to remember something). And in those conversations we see that it is very important that the people who join form a good part of the family, but that is as much work of the actor who comes new as ours. It is a basic decency to give a good welcome to people who arrive new."

Q: Have you felt pressure when adapting One Piece?

A: "From the moment we started, from the first moment, everyone reminded us of Death Note. People close to us tell you a little jokingly and don't realize the severity of what they are putting in your head. They are telling you, in a casual way, that there is a possibility that these three years of your life in which you have bled to dead for something, are absolutely worthless. We had to manage that at all times within ourselves, going to work firmly believing in what we were doing and in the people with whom we were doing it. Three years militants. The time comes when you can't do any more work and what you've done is what's left, and you can only wait until what you did with others is enough so that they don't cut your head (laughs). But I want to clarify that the fans are very enthusiastic and most of us supported us from the first moment."

The creative process and convincing a mother

There's something curious about Taz and it's the number of times he laughs per minute. Smile when we bring ut more serious topics. He smiles when he almost misses something about the new actors. He smiles as he recalls anecdotes with the fans. But it changes to a serious face when we talk about the actor's creative process. In the premiere of the movie Gassed Up, he said that he only wanted to be part of projects that his mother could enjoy.

Q: I think it's the most ambitious goal anyone can have, always to convince a mother!

A: (Laughs) "I think I meant something a little more different, but what you say is true. I wanted to say that, since I do not come from this world (that of interpretation) I see it as my secret weapon because it gives me a real perspective on what we do in art. Sometimes we do a cult of certain things that I think is important and productive, but it can be elitist. Although I can appreciate and understand some more complex or cultured things, my mother doesn't have to appreciate them."

Q: In an interview you told the journalist that, if I had met you as a child, I would never have imagined that you would end up this way. And you, would you have imagined yourself like that?

A: "Yes. It's a good question, bro. And yes. So much so that I was alone, and I had no friends, I stayed all day on the internet, reading and watching videos. My life was a fantasy and it said 'it would be beautiful to do what I saw in an action movie'. I remember watching skydiving or surfing in movies and telling my mother 'that would be beautiful to do'. But I was never going to do it. I had fantasies of doing things that I was afraid of at the same time. But when you think about doing something, there's always a part of you that thinks it's not going to happen."

Q: The fear of taking a risk

A: "Yes. No one gets into this industry without aspirations to make a living from this. To have a beautiful life, to take care of your family... But there is a large part of you that has in mind that it is quite likely that you will not get it. If you asked me when I was little that I was going to be older, I wouldn't have told you that I would, I would have told you that I hope something handsome."

Q: What if I ask you now?

A: I hope to be something better than I am now.

[discodeviant]

BILLY HARGROVE / STEVE HARRINGTON Band AU | Mature | 4k

Cowritten with @shieldofiron! 💕💕

Read on AO3

They shared cigarettes all the time. Between shows, during breaks when they didn’t want to lose the zone, in their hotel rooms because why shouldn’t they?

Steve was a romantic, always turning things on their heads, like sharing Billy’s smoke and putting his mouth on the filter that Billy’s had just touched a moment ago. Still damp with his saliva, the dent of his rough hold on the damn thing. It tickled Steve to think that it was like kissing. Not really, but almost. As close as he could get and as close as he could ever truly hope for. 

After smoking, they returned to practice. Playing, writing, whatever it was.

“So… I wrote something last night. Will you look over it for me? I can’t think of a title.”

Billy turned his head to see Steve standing over him with his red journal in one hand, open to the newest page that he’d blessed with new lyrics. They’d been front-manning Pretty Boy since freshman year of college, and now they had a Platinum record and three albums together, each one a series of proofs of why they were both complete and utter morons. When Billy wrote lyrics, Steve looked over them and gave his feedback; when Steve wrote, Billy critiqued, but there was never anything to fix. He loved every word out of Steve’s pen and told him so every time.

“It’s—it’s good. Really good,” he said after reading it. Something about waves and honey, cherry lips of nicotine, sunkissed to the stars above. It made his stomach tight, but he meant what he said. “I mean, you describe this chick as a riptide. Names itself, doesn’t it?”

Steve’s eyes went wide, and he smiled and thanked Billy with full sincerity. 

Oh, it ached.

Billy had written a song called Bambi Eyes not much later. Wide in the headlights of a broken man, pretty and rough shards reflecting off his hands. Steve chewed his lips while he skimmed the words written so carefully on Billy’s pizza napkin. He feared that if he focused too hard, he’d see the girl in Billy’s eyes and hurt himself more knowing it wasn’t him. God, how he wished that song was about him. His eyes were brown too, weren’t they?

“You must really like this girl,” he said with a quiver he hoped Billy didn’t hear.

Blue pierced into brown-but-evidently-not-brown-enough and said, “Yeah. I do.”

Robin and Heather, their drummer and rhythm guitarist, looked on with rolled eyes.

Separately, they told the boys what they and everyone else had been thinking.

“Billy was in your hotel room all night… soooo, you hit yet?” Robin eyed Steve with terrible suspicion in a Walmart parking lot, and he tossed his arms in front of him.

“We were working on the song! Jesus!”

“For the love of god, Steve, I am begging you. For the good of the band, do it.”

His face was molten.

Meanwhile, Heather ambled with Billy down the soda aisle. “You still haven’t fucked him yet? Seriously?”

Billy snapped. “What is the matter with you? No!”

“No amount of dick cologne could mask the reeking sexual tension you two give off every second you’re around each other. It makes me nauseous, Billy! Too much testosterone in the air or some shit. Please, please just go for it. He will jump into bed with you so fast—“

“Okay, okay, Christ. Fine. Fine!”

Even so, it took a while to keep his promise. Too long. Long enough that they’d written more songs, more lyrics and melodies about one another that neither quite picked up on.

He plucked at Steve’s guitar when he’d gone to the bathroom during a morning practice, not really playing anything since he was distracted by the ghost of Steve’s fingers that had been on those very same strings only a minute ago. Collecting dust that was no longer there, playing a sound that no longer played and that Billy couldn’t seem to replicate.

“In the still night, I’m stuck in half life, pretending to be right when you’re gone from my life…”

Robin rolled her eyes and walked away before having a chance to hear Heather yell at him through the open door. “Billy! You are really bring down the mood here. What the fuck are you even talking about, it’s not like he’s dead!”

He retorted back. “I am trying to express my feelings , Heather! Like you told me to! Fuck.” He cleared his throat to continue his improvised lyricism. “I haven’t gone far, but I don’t know where you are. I still haven’t learned to follow the stars. Sometimes I hope that you’re thinking of me, but I know that you’re only there in my dreams.”

As were the lyrics he sang to Steve in their hotel room that night, only this time they were accompanied by the girls who watched with bored, exhausted eyes from the corner.

“Oh, I like the dreams part,” Steve said softly.

“Thanks… can I hear yours?”

And he was shy, but Steve sang for him anyway: “I’m just a step on the ladder. When will you throw me a bone? But I know it doesn’t matter ‘cause I always wake up alone.”

Robin whispered to Heather. “God, can they get it together?”

Heather said back, “These gay-ass losers. Truly embarrassing.”

Maybe Steve was just nervous in front of them; when Billy leaned in close, shoulder to shoulder, he stammered and messed up the notes. “The bone part’s good,” Billy told him, studying his penmanship, and Heather mock-barfed behind him.

“It’s, uh… a song about wishing.”

“I can tell.”

Robin told Heather to throw her in a lake, but Heather demanded they jump in together.

“And”—Steve continued—“you know, like, wanting something or whatever. Anyway, I like the… the dream thing. We should use that.”

“Yeah, yeah… we should put them together…”

Heather suggested they put their brain cells together, but Robin would have been satisfied with a drunken make-out to cut the tension.

When the girls had left, Billy was still holed up in Steve’s room for another night—to work on the song, sure, but also lay around and drink shitty beer and Dr. Pepper. Spend time with Steve. Think back on what he promised. “Hey, you know what Heather said the other day?” he asked, covering the nerves in his laugh with a pretzel.

“Hm?”

Laughing even more, “She said we should, like, fuck. Ha! Can you fucking belie—“ And he was cut off when Steve threw himself across the bed to ram one head into the other and kiss Billy with all his might. Billy didn’t stop him. Billy didn’t think. All that went through his head was Steve Steve Steve and Steve kissing him, really kissing him, with tongue and everything. Steve had been carrying the weight of lust and something more for months already. He wasn’t gonna let Billy go that easy.

So they had sex and made out sober before they got drunk.

Billy woke up to an empty bed.

The next night, Steve’s hands trembled even more when Billy got up close to him. “I’m not—I can’t make up lyrics on the spot like you. That was all I had.”

“The hell do you mean ‘like me,’ I spend all day putting words together in my head before even thinking about saying them out loud. Come on, we’ll work on the melody and let the words fit into place.”

“Like a puzzle?”

Billy smiled, then frowned, then looked away. “Just like a puzzle. You play.”

So Steve did. Picking at strings for a while before he got a good pattern going, he kept Billy in the corner of his eye and listened for him to sing— their song.

“Woke up all alone… I don’t know where you are… something, something, with you in my dreams…”

Steve sniffled, and thankfully Billy didn’t notice, too focused on the song. “How was that? Melody okay?” God, he hoped his voice didn’t shake.

Billy looked at him again, intent and honest: “Perfect.”

And Steve wondered if Billy’s words were about the girl at the bar in Tulsa he’d been talking to, or the Creole boy in New Orleans.

“Oh, oh— kneeling at an empty throne, swearing to the king who sits high in my dreams.”

“Yeah, and then the bridge.” He plucked something a little different, a little darker because he was crumbling with every note.

“Throw me a bone. I threw mine long ago. Been waiting so long to see where this would go… Take me inside of your castle, and mine won’t shadow the glimmer of stars in your eyes…”

“Jesus.” Steve whispered, blank-faced but on the verge of tears.

“Wh—what, was that bad? You can tell me if it sucked, I just—“

“No, no, Bils, I was just listening to your voice again…”

Another night of even more drunken kisses and gripping hands and a lingering haze that both half-hoped the other would forget. Another night that Steve waited until Billy was asleep, sliding out from under his heavy hand and slipping back into his own hotel room trying not to cry.

“So.” Robin set down two coffees on the tour bus and slid into the seat by Steve. “Someone got in really early today. First at the bus, smelling like Marlboro Reds and that horrible hairspray Billy swears is so great.”

“We were finishing the song,” Steve said with a shrug that just missed being casual.

“And how did that go?” She pressed her lips together.

“Great.”

She rolled her eyes and just looked at him, “Steve. Steve.”

He held out for as long as he could, pressing his lips together, “Okay fine. We had sex again.”

“Again?”

“Oh come on, yes, again…” He groaned, pushing his coffee aside and resting his head in his hands.

She was silent for a long moment, and he could feel his next words welling up under his tongue. 

“And just like in LA and Seattle and Vegas I slipped out before he woke up because I can't stand to see that disappointed look he gives me." He sighed, dragging his head up to look at her.

She frowned softly. “What look?”

“When he sees me after we hook up, he's always, like... super pissed.” Steve huffed. “And it’s one thing to see that at sound check when I can pretend to have other things to do. But if he did it when he saw me all alone and… shit, I couldn’t take it, Rob.”

“Okay, and did you ever think that might have something to do with you leaving him every time you have sex?”

He rubbed hard between his brows, “Come on, Robin. No. He doesn't even like me like that, he probably just sobers up and regrets it or something! Look, I know you and Heather want everyone to be as happy as you and I appreciate you trying to set us up, but at some point I’ll have to just accept that… nothing is going to happen…”

“Let me get this straight. Or bisexual, as the case may be. He has slept with you in several cities, and, according to you, he wakes up sober enough to regret it.” She ticked three fingers off on her right hand. "And... so he keeps having sex with you anyway?”

Steve frowned. “He's gotta get his rocks off somehow, I guess…”

“This is ninety percent of the reason I call you a dingus.”

“What?”

“I’m not trying to set you up because I want everyone coupled up. You two are so into each other. You’ve been sleeping together, like, all tour, and then afterwards he stares at you like he’s trying to burn your clothes off with his eyes.” She shook her head. “Are you actually fucking with him? Because I'd be pissed too if I kept sleeping with this person I'm, like, in love with, and they kept dipping on me in the morning.”

"Well, last time I checked, I'm the one who's in love with him and couldn't handle it if he told me to get the hell out of his bed–”

“Okay, okay, fuck. Calm down! Just… stay next time. Okay?” Robin shrugged. “If he really regrets it, then at least you’ll finally know.”

Steve inhaled and finally picked up his coffee. “Fine, I will. But if he hates me, it's your fault.”

That night, the crowd couldn't get enough of them, screaming out the lyrics even when Billy met Steve’s eye and faltered, flubbing the lyrics to Bambi Eyes.

High off the crowd, Billy had tugged Steve back to his tour bus, cheeks flushed as he tugged off Steve’s belt with shaky fingers.

“Fuck, they loved you,” Billy whispered. “Jesus… Jesus fucking Christ.”

“They loved you,” Steve replied, biting his lip and running his hands along Billy’s bare chest, sweaty from the stage, trying not to hear how close those words were to what he really wanted to say.

The next morning, Steve woke early, like usual. He turned and looked at the man next to him. His curls, gold and dyed blue, splayed across the pillow, reaching towards Steve. His hand was clasped around Steve’s waist, and his fingers dug in as Steve pulled back, just to look at him. If he made that face in the morning… at least Steve had this. He burrowed back into Billy’s arms, kissed his sleeping lips a few times, and fell back to sleep, tracing the flash tattoo skater girl on Billy’s arm, traced the lines that spelled out ‘Mad Max’ on his wrist.

When he woke up again, it was to the quiet chorus of Billy repeating, “Holy fucking shit.”

“Billy..." He murmured, dragging his eyes open.

Billy wasn’t making the face again; he was smiling, eyes lit up like a spotlight, dimple teasing the corner of his pretty mouth.

“You stayed,” he whispered.

“You smiled,” Steve whispered back.

“I... I'm glad you didn't leave this time, that's all…”

Steve inhaled shakily. Sometimes words didn’t come so easily, but this didn’t feel like words or lyrics. It felt like music. It just poured out.

“I never wanted to leave, Billy. Actually I'd like to wake up every morning like this.” He reached out, gratified when Billy didn’t shrug away.

Billy’s blue eyes sparkled. “I want you here every morning too. Shit, Steve, I want.. c'mon you know I just write about you...”

“No, I didn't know. Are you serious?”

Billy reached up to lay a trembling hand over Steve's, shifting in the sheets. “Yes, I'm fucking serious. You think I wrote about a guy with brown eyes playing with my heart that wasn't you?”

“You thought I was playing with your heart? Fuck, I have been… oh my God, Billy, I'm sorry, I—fuck.” Steve moved closer, somehow, even though they were plastered to each other.

“They're about you. All the songs. All the poems. All the liner notes.” Billy shook his head. “I thought you knew and just thought I was easy… you know…”

“N-No.” Steve shook his head, “No way. I’m just a stupid asshole. Because Riptide is about you, and that one riff in Honey, I improvised it from something you were whistling like three months ago, and, and the—”

Billy blinked at him, confused. He tended to whistle random tunes from his childhood while they were all getting ready, any random little melodies he came up with on the fly. Steve heard every one and swore he'd remember, and he never did, but he remembered that one. He was always listening for the next one, the next little hint of Billy.

“Sunrays too?”

Steve nodded, pulling Billy close and kissing him deeply, tongues tangling, shaky knees knocking together.

They were both breathless before Billy had a chance to ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because—“ Steve panted, stealing small kisses whenever he could because it had always been a weakness of his. “I’m a stupid asshole, and so are you—“

“You're not... like, in love with someone else?” Billy swallowed, his eyes tight with nervous energy.

Steve shook his head. “No. F-fuck, NO, I'm in love with you, Billy.”

“Well... that changes things, because I'm in love with you too. Like... so fucking in love with you, Steve,” Billy kissed him softly.

“Really? Like, really really? For how long?” Steve brushed their lips together as he asked, unwilling to pull away any further.

Billy stared deeply into his eyes, smiling, holding him close. “Shit, like, the moment i saw you, come on.”

Steve nearly choked on his own spit. “God I—I don't know why I—you asshole—”

Billy cut him off with a kiss again, and apart from a few gasps and punched out I love you's, they didn't feel like talking much anymore.

Rehearsal in the morning was insufferable for the girls, having to watch Steve on Billy’s lap as he leaned into the never-ending kisses on his neck.

“I don’t know what’s worse,” Robin said. “Before they got together, or this .”

Steve glared, still blushing to his chest. “Shut it. This is your fault.”

In his ear, Billy’s breath was hot on his skin. “You love it," he said, and Steve melted on the spot. Giggling, turning his head back because it tickled, wanting another kiss, another secret laced in between somewhere.

Heather leaned into Robin. “Hm. It’s not great, but…” Then, into Robin’s ear, she said softly, “Consider me doing that to you.”

Robin smirked back. “I’m listening…”

“Get a damn room!” Billy yelled over Steve’s shoulder.

“Holy shit, you cannot be serious. You kissed his ear, and he made a noise I’ve only ever heard in porn.”

Steve was visibly insulted. “Since when do you watch guy porn, Heather?”

“I don’t.”

With a huff, Steve crossed his arms and leaned back into Billy’s tight hold. “I make very masculine noises, thank you.”

Billy didn’t help his case. “Not when I do that thing you like—”

“Sh—baby, be cool,” he replied, and Billy was the one reduced to smoke that time, his heart melting at the word baby used just for him.

“Mmm…” He grinned dopily. “Whatever you say, Stevie.”

They found they were both weak to any display of affection, and they both reveled in exploiting that fact. If Steve squeezed Billy’s hand walking down the street, he nearly collapsed on the spot. Billy called Steve his boyfriend one night at a restaurant on their day off, quietly murmured over the noise, and Steve got goosebumps over his whole body. 

Their next show was distracting, to say the least. Neither could look away from each other, both singing and playing their hearts out through songs neither quite understood the true meaning of. Billy eventually ditched his own microphone for Steve’s, and they sang into it together, pressed arm-to-arm, lips-to-lips, a kiss but not quite, and Steve was reminded of their first cigarette. He couldn’t help himself in the middle of the song, taking Billy by the scruff of his mullet and pulling him in for a real kiss. Deep and slow, full of the passion they sang with—that the audience continued for them where they left off, screaming lyrics over whistles and love of their own.

Billy only broke away for a moment to say, “I’m gonna marry him one day, so you fuckers keep on singing,” in the rawest, most blissed-out voice Steve had ever heard. Steve blacked out and back in, only losing a split second of time, but he wondered if he’d woken up from his dream then. Then Billy kept on kissing him, and he knew he was awake.

After the show, after dinner, after sinking into their shared hotel bed, Steve laughed, shoving Billy lightly in the shoulder, “Marry me? You sneaky asshole. Were you trying to throw me off? Because it worked.”

Billy laughed and grabbed him by the waist, nuzzling into the sweaty right side of his neck. “Mm, nah, I was just being honest.”

Steve froze, and Billy laughed again. “What, you speechless, baby?” he asked, and Steve pushed away just far enough to search his eyes for any sign of deceit or jest, but he didn’t even flinch. He kissed him again. “Hey.” And again, soft and short, a peck to bring Steve back to Earth. “I meant it before, you know. I’ve only ever loved you.” Billy would have been afraid of an abrupt rejection if not for the grip Steve had on his side, tight and trembling. “You’ll marry me, won’t you, Stevie?”

“I—” Steve’s voice trembled too. “I mean, yeah , but I’m—I’m not gonna make a big deal about it. Shit.” He wiped his eyes on the pillow beneath them, and Billy pulled him in again, wiping them for him.

“Yes you fuckin’ are, you big sap. Come here.”

And so the night was theirs.

They were interviewed some months later at an award ceremony after their newest had just been released. They locked arms down the red carpet, smiling and whispering to each other, both in gleaming suits and full faces of makeup and hearts on full display.

“So, okay, tell us about the new album! Because, I mean, come on. It’s easily the most clever, heartwarming collection of music we’ve seen in the last, what, decade?”

Billy flushed at the interviewer’s comment, trying to hide behind Steve because he was shier than he’d admit; Steve answered for them. “Oh, come on—thank you, really. It, you know… I mean, we’re both idiots, is the main thing, really.”

She laughed, and so did he, and Billy squeezed his hand. “It’s been a long road since high school, and we were stubborn and angry teenagers with hearts too big for our bodies, I guess. I know, for me, I’ve always had him in my music, and that was something I wanted to…” Steve spoke with his free hand, moving in gestures that he’d have made big enough for the whole world to see. “You know, really show, especially when so much love for each other went into it unknowingly.”

“Wow.” She was in awe, smiling softly. “Well, it does show, and it’s beautiful, Steve. It really is.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Billy, I can see you getting flustered back there,” she said with a bright smile and even brighter laugh. “How has this all been for you? I mean, you are so bold, and clearly it’s worked out for you, having snatched this one up all for yourself, huh?”

“Thank god it did, too. He’s right, though, we’re both absolute morons.” His eyes turned into the microphone, into the carpet, away from cameras and flashing lights to say, “I mean, I was… singing three feet away from the love of my life, and I almost missed out on it by not thinking to tell him.”

Meeting Billy’s eyes again, Steve took the opportunity to reference the album’s liner notes, “Hey, you know, it turns out my heart wanted something that wanted it back after all.” Billy shook his head and touched it to Steve’s shoulder before they said their goodbyes and continued on.

Their previous album won three awards, and for each one they stood hand-in-hand, arm-in-arm, hearts entwined and beating for each other. Robin and Heather kissed once for the camera, and Steve planted one on Billy’s cheek but kept the rest for later.

In the hotel, suits off and shower finished with, as they lay in bed with the TV droning and beers half-full, Steve offered Billy a cigarette that he almost ignored. Then he noticed the ring hanging around it, a shiny silver band engraved with leaves and their personal little emblem on the inside.

“Steve…”

“I love you, Billy.”

He said yes.