#studio orange is fucking insane

[itachanta]

Vash the Stampede Color Palette Inspired by this post

[lesbianpegbar]

i am reserving judgement on stampede for now but one thing i will say is that animation. holy FUCK.... i am looking

[morganbritton132]

IDK if it’s actually a trend or just one couple’s hilarious communication style but I keep seeing reels/shorts of this one couple having “arguments” by pressing their faces/cheeks/noses against each other (like kissing but not) and whisper-shouting at each other and neither can keep a straight face and it always resolves hilariously.

Sort of piggy-backing off of your previous posts about Eddie and Steve being mid-tiff and ridiculous, I just imagine Steve coming in after the other teachers leave, sitting on Eddie’s lap and literally getting in Eddie’s face with his face like “hey, asshole, what gives?” Bonus point if Eddie had been live.

I am picturing this whole event happening a little after Eddie started using Tiktok.

So, Eddie (and Steve by extension) is nowhere near as popular on the app as he’s going to get. He has his following of metalheads and D&D nerds, but he hasn’t even explicitly said that he’s married yet.

After he said his hellos and goodbyes to Steve and the other teachers, he went down to the studio, picked up his guitar, and started a live-stream because sometimes it’s better to work out your creative process with an audience. He’s not great with the camera set up yet so the way it’s angled, you get the guitar, his hands, and his torn jeans, but it’s cut off at his mouth.

He’s in the middle of working the kinks out of an angsty guitar riff when the door to the studio opens and closes, and you can hear footsteps. A hand reaches into frame, pulls the guitar out of Eddie’s hands and replaces it with the hand’s owner.

Steve climbs into Eddie’s lap and straddles him, but all you see on camera is Steve’s nice jeans and his Christmas themed grippy socks. You also get to watch Eddie’s hands rest on Steve’s hips for just a second before sliding into his back pockets. Eddie’s voice sounds real fucking casual when he hums, “What do I owe this pleasure?”

Steve sounds anything but casual when he replies with, “What gives, asshole? You embarrassed me.”

“I embarrassed you?” Eddie said in a voice that sounds like he is about to go on a monologue across cafeteria tables. He ignores Steve’s pouty little ‘don’t’ start’ to instead slide a hand up to the back of Steve’s neck and pull him in closer. “Did the freak embarrass you, Ste-“

“Don’t call me that,” Steve huffs, a laugh in his voice. “What are you, my father? Call my what you always call me.”

“And what is that?”

“I’m not embarrassed of you,” Steve says instead of answering. “I never have been.”

“You won’t see a movie with me.”

“I want to see the movie!” Steve exclaims, shifting so their foreheads are pressed together. He looks Eddie in the eyes even though it makes him feel cross-eyed when he does that. “I didn’t say I didn’t want to go. I just – I don’t want to do the carpet.”

You can tell from the sound of Eddie’s voice that he’s pouting when he says, “I wanna show you off.”

“Next time,” Steve promises like he promised the last time and the time before that. He kisses Eddie on the tip of the nose and then pulls back, “You’re fogging up my glasses.”

Steve says that he’s hungry and wants to go get dinner, so Eddie reluctantly lets him out of his lap after one last squeeze of his ass. Steve pulls Eddie to his feet and they leave his live-stream audience with an image of the studio’s ugly orange couch as they go upstairs.

‘Eddie Munson gay’ trends on Twitter for the next week which is amazing to Eddie because, “Seriously, guys? It’s insane how many times I’ve had to publicly come out as queer when everybody in my high school seemed to know instantly.” 

[brawltogethernow]

I actually misremembered who made the suggestion; this is @heyyoufriendthere (orange⬇️)'s fault. Plaintext with annotations below the cut.

This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas Comics will warp to be like films as fast as you can say "huzzah" But when a megamonopoly swallows up the competition It yanks our blorbos back and forth in an ugly retcon perdition When only Fox can make a movie about the Fantastic Four, The Disney-owned comic office will shove the Four right out the door Until the Disney studio absorbs those rights and then you'll find The comics are suddenly awful sorry they left them behind(1) Then in the instant comic fans begin to cheer an awful lot The news comes in from Bleeding Cool(2) the writer is that fucker Slott(3)

Oh yes when comics warp to be like films and leave you quite agaw This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas

When Disney didn't have the rights to film the X-Men and their friends The Inhumans were their idea to have that same magic again But absolutely nobody could give a damn about their deal There was a gas or something uh, the Moon? Nobody cares get real EXCEPT for Ms. Marvel, the only Inhuman breakout success They want her all over the screen at excited public behest Oh yes when comics warp to be like films and leave you quite agaw This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas For years the MCU was not allowed to say the word "mutant" They twisted themselves into pretzels out to recoup every cent The silver screen had two Quicksilvers purely for dumb spite reasons With roots in even dumber masturbatorial rights reasons(4) Wanda and Pietro had their sixth or seventh origin retcon(5) To fit the "No More Mutants!"(6) edict corporate decided upon Then Disney bought the M word back for 73 billion bucks (A number that should make you want to strangle all these greedy fucks)

Oh yes when comics warp to be like films and leave you quite agaw This is the very picture of an intellectual rights fracas

Now suddenly it's mutant city all over the comic line They let the X-Men start a sex cult; also they can never die With no need for Inhumans they admitted that they're pretty cringe And nobody will ever give their lore a proper reading binge The MCU made Kamala a mutant like immediately Faster than you can say "bad adaptation" or "brand synergy" In short order the comics gave her the murderization hook In such a hurry it wasn't even in her own fucking book(7) Now big surprise she's coming back on the fucking sex cult island They gave it less than one whole month before they played their fucking hand So Kamala's a mutant now(8) and got a shitty mourning book(9) Which when she's coming back NEXT MONTH you might call a pretty bad look

IT'S TRUE WHEN COMICS WARP TO BE LIKE FILMS AND LEAVE YOU JUST AGAW THAT IS THE VERY PICTURE OF AN INTELLECTUAL RIGHTS FRACAS

~ (1) "At the time, we were told that the Fox-licensed X-Men books weren't to be cancelled as they made too much money for the publisher, but the FF as a middling sales solo title could be missed without hurting the bottom line."

From 2014, when Fox was preparing its 2015 release of Fant4stic, until Disney's film branch recovered the rights by absorbing Fox, the FF were conspicuously absent from comics. The Fantastic Four book was discontinued for the first time since 1962 (for most of those decades they'd supported multiple titles at once) along with all associated merch tchotchkes. By 2017 there was a Twitter hashtag, #WhereAreTheFantasticFour. If you want to hear some people be driven slowly insane by this, Stormcast had a segment called Stormwatch where they analyzed any Johnny Storm appearances in a given month. We're talking deep analyses of single panels.

(2) I know I just linked them, but part of the joke is Bleeding Cool's weird place in the geek news ecosystem. They report everything first, so for the first week you know something you can't strictly confirm it's actually true.

(3) I don't have time to enumerate Slott's crimes but we hate him. Source: Dude trust me👍

(4) How A B-List Hero Became Hot Hollywood Property Fox could adapt him because they had the rights to all mutants, and Disney could because they had the rights to all Avengers. Some characters are both because the comics didn't use to care about this. This is the entire reason the MCU introduced a Pietro Maximoff and then killed him off. Like seriously who kills off one twin. No that was not based on any comic story.

(5) They're not currently Magneto's kids in the main comic line. Everyone hates this.

(6) This is a cheap reference to the comic storyline "House of M".

(7) They killed her off in Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #26 and none of her supporting cast was there.

(8) Kamala Khan to Return in “Ms. Marvel: The New Mutant”

(9) Look at this thing:

WHO are those anonymously multiracial teens and what are they so goddamn happy about?

~

Bonus

[mixedup-sideblog]

So Trigun Stampede episode 12…

I say this with complete honesty - I think this is one of the BEST episodes of anime I have EVER had the pleasure of watching.

My non-exhaustive list of reasons:

The desperate back and forth between brothers who love each other so much but are so fundamentally different.

The FIGHT SCENES OMFG - INSANE!

The soundtrack - incredible.

The each brother having an Angel wing so that when they are together they’re a set of ANGEL WINGS one black one white!! STUNNING!

The hand bite in the fight - peak sibling energy as many have said.

Knives being absolutely UNHINGED

The VOICE ACTING - Vash screaming Nai TORE through my heart!

Wolfwood getting his shit together to go help!

Meryl looks BADASS af now!

Milly officially in season 2 - please the og onlys can stfu about there being no milly now.

Meryl practicing saying newbie in a GRUFF voice LIKE ROBERTO DID TO HER 😭.

Vash playing that single piano note over and over - heart torn and in pieces!!

Finally the FREAKING family photo - make me cry more studio orange I dare you!!!

Honestly everything about this episode was just FUCKING AMAZING AND I CANNOT wait for season 2!!! (Please god let there be one!).

[thessray]

Finally finished! Here's my ode to Control. I had a blast working on this (except the text. Fuck Clip Studio's text editing), and I hope you like it too! 

This is also available on my Redbubble in various forms; I personally think it makes a pretty sick poster. Get it here: "REDACTED" Poster for Sale by TheSSRay | Redbubble

Have a fun time playing Alan Wake II if that's your jam. I hope it's a delightful capstone to your spooky season! And remember to you are a worm through time.  The thunder song distorts you. Happiness comes.  White pearls, but yellow and red in the eye.  Through a mirror, inverted is made right.  Leave your insides by the door.  Push the fingers through the surface into the wet.  You’ve always been the new you. You want this to be true. We stand around you while you dream. You can almost hear our words but you forget. This happens more and more now. You gave us the permission in your regulations. We wait in the stains. The word that describes this is redacted. Repeat theword. The name of the sound. It resonates in your house. After the song, time for applause. We build you till nothing remains. The egg cracks and the truth will emerge out of you. You are home. You remind us of home. You’ve taken your boss with your boss with you. All hair must be eaten. Under the conceptual reality behind this reality you must want these waves to drag you away. After the song, time for applause. This cliché is death out of time, breaking the first the second the third the fourth wall, the fifth wall, floor; no floor: you fall! How do you say “insane”? Hurts to be happy. An earworm is a tune you can’t stop humming in a dream: “baby baby baby yeah”. Just plastic. So, safe and nothing to worry about. Ha ha, funny. The last egg breaks now. The hole in your room is a hole in you. You came and we let you in through the hole in you. You have always been here, the only child. A copy of a copy of a copy. Orange peel. The picture is you holding the picture. When you hear this you will know you’re in new you. You want to listen. You want to dream. You want to smile. You want to hurt. You don’t want to be.

[puckrph]

SHIT MY FRIENDS HAVE SAID PART 5

feel free to change pronouns, etc.

“i’m serving only the coldest, stalest opinions in this chilis tonight.” “this man is girlbossing WAY too close to the sun right now, which is bad, because he’s a vampire.” “he looks like if they peeled the grinch.” “i wish desolation row gerard way had me by the throat for real” “absolutely insane in shows and movies when people don’t have their window screens down. you’re just raw dogging life like that?” “it’s not sadistic if your players can take it.” “i’m doing this all in the service of the christian god, so it’s fine.” “wine-horny is what the fuck or die trope is about.” “it’s hot gay serial killer vampire summer” “[in a yoda voice] MMM. CUNT, THEY ARE SERVING.” “boytoy, enable kill mode.” “your father eats tomatoes like a beast of a man.” “you fool. my muppet-like behavior has blinded you to my competency.” “you people need to calm down.” “you know it’s a good joke when i start whimpering like a hurt dog.” “i’m insulted to my core. are you questioning my patriotism? my dedication to this country? my belief that the american dream is witnessing two f-150’s making passionate love on 690? i’ll have your badge and your head, [NAME].” “your influence is both vast and perplexing.” “putting your blood through a brita filter is discount dialysis.” “people is like sauce: more is better.” “hell would be more fun than this, i think.” “hard to believe the same studio made two games where you get to run around, steal vehicles, and be an asshole, if you want.” “pda stands for people doing atheism.” “first of all, through the power of keanu reeves all things are possible, so jot that down.” “i don’t feel like his name should be david. i feel like it should be… giancarlo.” “you aren’t laughing or loving this, and soon you won’t be living either!” “did i ever tell you about the dream i had where baljeet from phineas and ferb got lightning powers and fought in the clone wars.” “everyone is bullying so much about cooking meat that i simply must become vegan.” “i’m gonna deep clean you out of my life.” “the only difference between a twink and a frat boy is a limp wrist.” “he’s right, of course, i am going to do that. but still.” “what is a roommate if not blorbo from your house?” “i just realized that i’m going to medieval times for the first time on the destiel putin election anniversary. none of those words are in the king james bible. how am i going to cope.” “body dysmorphia? yes, but you can hang dong like nobody’s business.” “he can’t do anything wrong, he’s too cute.” “so many people eat an orange normally. isn’t it better, really, to do it like a weirdo?” “i’m probably in the top 98th percentile of pez dispenser information knowers by the way. most don’t know that about me.” “there is always further to fall from god’s grace.” “jesus is rizzin’?? amogus???” “you think i could gauge the emotions or feeling of any human beings in high school?” “sorry, the coffee never actually kicked in so i’m stupid now.” “the bar for men is so low. just be fun, slay, and be a little fruity!” “i feel like JC probably has some hilarious lines in the quran.” “side note: does anyone else initially read FMA as ‘fuck my alchemist.’” “astigmatism is when you have an eye issue and stigmata is when you have the wounds of christ, right? because i was at the eye doctor and he said ‘looks like we need to correct a stigmata in your eye’ and i was like come again?” “surely the micro plastics and lead cancel each other out, you’ll be fine.” “schrodinger’s sports call: the call exists in a quantum state of correct and bullshit until i figure out how it affects my guys.” “oh, tom waits makes some good songs. he just sounds like a gravel beach got a wish to become a real boy.”

[malisatelier]

this week of my life has been strictly dedicated to tristamp. i started it on monday, currently on episode nine, the brainrot is INSANE 😭

i never saw the original trigun but i??? love??? these fucking characters so much ?????

i love it a lot ☹️ ntm the INCREDIBLE job that studio orange has done with this animation like oh god they’re so expressive i love these guys. hyperfixing on this like crazy

[linlin24]

I finally started watching Trigun and shit fuck hoooly shit fuck Vash’s character design is just *chef’s kiss* .

The droopy eyes? The beauty mark? The insane shoulder to waist ratio?? They just don’t build guys like this anymore 🫣. I have no other word to describe this man but 美人….

New blorbo obtained. I’m looking forward to Studio Orange’s remake but they will never top this aesthetic _(:3」∠)_

[itachanta]

we all love the part where meryl hangs from vash like a cute koala in episode 12, right?

well, i noticed some small random adorable thing because studio Orange is insane and they animate even the smallests of the far-away details and i'm so deep into the trigun void i wanted to share it.

Vash offering his arm to her plus her little jump and her face in the third one???? SHE'S SO CUTE I MIGHT DIE.

[shadow-warren-whump]

I try to keep anime off my main blog, but I need to tell you about three animes that make me absolutely feral.

Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

Attack on Titan, and

Trigun Stampede

FMAB is so highly praised within the anime community and its not hard to see why. It could easily be an action/power-up anime, but it's not. There's so much more that I don't even know how to describe it. It has some of the best female characters I've seen in an anime. It covers grief, loss, war, and more. There is romance but it somehow adds to the story instead of making you cringe away from the show in horror. The story as a whole had me constantly surprised with its reveals. The comedy isn't overdone and never feels forced. And let's just say there's a reason it's my number one and many other's number one as well.

Attack on Titan is probably easier to understand the why behind it. Isayama has irrevocably changed how I see both other shows and the world. I watch shows now in a light that might not have been there, but Isayama changed my brain chemistry and now I can't unsee it. The show started out simple and it could've easily stayed there, but it didn't. Not even halfway through Season 1, we get a part of the story that we never expected. Fast-forward to Season 4 and we learn something that has forever changed how I watch every show from here on out. It went through an animation studio change for the final season and the new studio has delivered a more faithful manga-to-anime adaptation compared to the original studio. The animation through all four seasons is just amazing.

Trigun Stampede was one of the hated animes of 2023, for no good reason!! The animation is above god-tier for being fully CGI (don't knock it 'til you try it). The amount of DETAIL that goes into every action is fucking insane. Studio Orange paid homage to the original 1998 anime while also planning on making a more faithful adaptation. I saw two tumblr posts by someone who analyzed that Vash got animated using proper gun safety and how good of a marksman he is. It's something that could've been glossed over, but Studio Orange said "fuck it" and gave us GOD-TIER animation.

Yeah, more animes than those have made me cry. I cry over Kakashi's backstory in Naruto, but it doesn't give me the absolute need to scream like the three above do. When I say I go absolutely feral over those three animes, I mean I get this pressure in my chest that I feel like I need to scream from how fucking good they are.

If you're thinking about getting into anime, I cannot stress these three enough to at least have them on your watchlist.

[ Anime blog - @shinobi-addiction ]

[orewing]

wait I only just noticed that vash was using his gun like a fucking tonfa in that fight scene?? that's insanely cool and whoever at studio orange thought of that deserves a raise

[tragedyslut]

" you'll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you " `some nsfw + angst`

a/n : angst ellie wow. based on the song above !! enjoy<3 some nsfw but not solely nsfw.

you and ellie had dated. it was, a good time for both of you. then you left her. just simply because you had commitment issues.. and an avoidant attachment style. it was just too serious for you.

you still thought about her, you were both still in Jackson, you had been with her back in Seattle. you were with her after joel died. you had been with her through everything, and you had left. you couldn't say you didn't regret it, because you did. but you had a new girlfriend, or.. sort of girlfriend. you were just talking,

meanwhile, ellie was still crushed by you leaving. she knew you had a new girlfriend. she couldn't help but lay in her bed and think about what you probably said to your new girlfriend now. did you tell her she was pretty? did you say that she loved you? did you actually commit to her?

she couldn't escape it. she began to not love you, to let go, but everytime she'd just run back to that same spot. waiting for you to miraculously come back. she wondered if you thought it was worth it, did you feel better now?

she knew you'd never forget her. or at least thats what she hoped everytime she was crying in bed about you. she was just so crushed. she could have loved you, really loved you, but you wouldn't let her.

One day she decided to stop wallowing in her pity, and show up at your door. this wouldn't do anything good for her, she knew that. if anything, it'd make things worse. but she just, needed to shout at you about how shitty you made her feel.

she knew where you lived. you hadn't moved.

god, she couldn't stop thinking about you.

she was laying in bed, pillow between her knees as she desperately rode it. she couldn't forget how you made her feel, sexually and in general. her clothea were discarded to an unknown corner of the room as she kept desperately riding her pillow.

after a while of no she relief all, she got frustrated. she was so desperately horny. she couldn't do what you did to her by herself.

in a daze, she sloppily pulled on her clothes and stumbled out of her home.

she walked down the rigid pathway from her house, towards the little scheme of houses you lived near. she kept thinking about you the whole time. she saw an old lady drinking tea in her living room, (whom she knew) who probably thought she was insane for wandering about this part of Jackson at this hour.

she finally got to your door, and didn't hesitate to knock on your door. she didn't even realize what she had done until you swung the door open.

you talking = small caps orange

ellie talking = orange italics<3

" ellie? what the actual fuck are you doing here? " you mumbled out, half asleep still. what could she possibly be doing here at this hour, and in her pjs no less.

" we need to talk. " she deadpanned, staring right at you.

" okayyyy.. well its 4am. can it not wait? " you said, still trying to keep your voice down because it was late.

ellie shook her head and pushed past you into the house. you had no idea how this whole thing would.. play out.

you followed her into the house, and then watched as she plonked down on your couch. you sat down next to her, giving her a confused and mad look.

" you're a dick you know that?? you left me and now you're just moving on! you left me like it was nothing!! you have no fucking idea how much you crushed me and you can just move on like its nothing!! "

" ellie. i haven't moved on. i think about you all the time. "

" why did you have to leave me like that..? i loved you. i really- i really could've loved you. but you didn't fucking let me. "

" ..what if i let you now? "

" what did you just fucking say? "

" ill let you love me. we can start again. "

ellie just started sobbing when you said that. it was everything she wanted, but she was just.. so upset. still.

" why did you not just stay.. " she sobbed out, not being able to contain herself. even when you embraced her, she only just kept sobbing.

after around an hour of her sobbing and breaking down, she finally pulled herself together.

" im sorry ellie. you deserved better than me leaving you like that. i promise. i won't do it again. if you'll.. just let us have another chance? "

" you can't ever get away from me and you know it. " she sniffled, giggling softly at her own comment. she was right though.

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Rox

Summary:

Eric and Rox, pure porn, and they like it like that.

Notes:

Yes, 16 is coming, but this one was just for fun.

Chapter Text

The buzz of the tattooing pen filled zir ears as ze shaped the new motif. Butterflies. Beautiful black and white butterflies with nuclear green spots. Butterflies, the symbols of the soul's transformation. Eric was zir willing canvas tonight, the butterflies rising from just over the root of his prick, wrapping to the right over the flange of his pelvic bone. Around and up his back, following the inside curve of his shoulder blade, the butterflies ascended to the roses on his shoulders, alighting to feed on the nectar of mortal blossoms. Finally, in invisible UV-ink script among the butterflies, "Media vita in morte sumus."

"Pretty Man, you are a work of art." Stark naked, tied to the chair, and in a state of bliss, Eric opened his eyes and gave zir the most goofball smile. "And you're as high as a kite on endorphins."

"Surfing it. Amazing. More," he rasped.

"Gorgeous. Insane. Voracious." Rox picked up a lidded cup of orange juice and slipped the straw between Eric's lips. "Suck." Eric drank down a good amount of the cup and then flexed against his bonds when ze kissed him. "Let me dress the new designs."

That boy knew how to distract zir, but Rox took a moment to step back and admire zir work. Cordelia had been an inspiration. Rox imagined that if ze ever raised a child that ze would feel much the same pride. After all, it was ze and dear Ronnie-that-was who had taken Elizabeth to the Origin. While the transformation was the work of She Who Spins, the will to survive that Rebirth came from Cordelia alone. Newly widowed, a new mother, wounded, and dying, the butterfly burst forth from her mortal cocoon and thrived.

"Let me see?" Eric asked. "You were on fire, Rox."

"In a moment." A Reaper's touch could heal or kill, and Rox exerted a little extra to speed up the healing. Already the one just over his pubic bone had stopped seeping. "I do have a delicate touch, do I not?"

"And a kinky canvas."

"I've created a horny little monster." How could you not slap his ass? Rox did and it felt so good ze did it again. "Stop distracting me, you satyr."

"Or you could just fuck me right here."

"I give the marching orders, Pretty Man, and the fucking orders." Ze dressed and covered the tats with her own formula of beeswax and aloe, giving a grope to his locked-down bits. "Behave or I put it in a cage until Saturday."

"I always behave."

"No lightning strikes in my studio, libertine." The last butterfly was covered and Rox used her fingers to tease some of his fauxhawk into a pair of horns. "You're just so cute when you're all rammish and mouthy."

"I can do other things with my mouth. Get a little closer." Trash-Talking Eric was Turned On Eric.

"Do I need to tape it shut? Or should I smack your ass like a bongo player on Red Bull?" Ze body bumped him. "Or to I need to put your mouth and ass in the kitchen and make you work?"

"Fuck you." Overbright eyes, flushed cheeks, and a sneer. "Make me do jack."

"That's it, boy." Whoopie! "You need me to lay down the law around here."

Eric loved to play rough, even when he was doing what he wanted to do. Who knew that he had such a cop kink to match the service kink? The thing about Eric's service kink was that making pancakes, being a bath boy, or sexual services were all on the same plane. Rox never had a bottom who would get get off on orders to make elaborate sweets and Officer Friendly's tender attentions equally. It was fun and a little fattening, especially when Eric was in the mood to spoil one. Ze needed to get back into swinging zir scythe.

Restraints sent Eric to the moon, and being restrained and then moved was the equivalent of an endorphin keyboardsmash. Cuffing his upper arms to his torso, ze snapped a lead onto his collar and marched him into the stairwell. It was time for a visit from Officer Friendly.

~

There were times when not being able to keep his big fucking mouth shut had a good side. God. Real chains and bungee cords. Rox nailed every kink he had as if ze'd put them there zirself. And there were titties. Eric was a gold star faggot, but was going to trade it in if he couldn't admit that titties were fun. Rox's were cute. And since he had time to think, what with being on his knees and chained to an oak bannister as thick as his forearm, Eric found that liking titties did not make him less of a fag, it just meant he liked titties on Rox.

"HEY, COP! You going to keep me tied up in here all fucking night?" Rox was not afraid to play rough and Eric relished it. It was as if his skin was waking up, and everything else that had been muffled for so long. "I've got rights, you know!"

"Pipe down, punk. You have the right to be slapped in the face with my dick."

Officer Friendly strode into the stairwell, one of New York's finest perverts, and Eric reminded himself not to break role by drooling. Rox did something to motorcycle cop wear, especially those boots. Eric had previously enjoyed some rather fine copfucking in his time, but this was a whole new level. There were times when Rox was all about the femme, there were times when Rox presented masculine - those shoulders made Eric unf - and then there were times when Rox's gender was all about fucking up the binary.

Like now.

Pushup bras and a stiff cock in those blue pants. Hair tucked under the a motorcycle cop's helmet. Sunglasses. Handcuffs. Boots.

And the Nightstick of Doom.

"Good evening, Officer Friendly." Eric singsonged before adding, "You cock-knocking jugfucker."

Rox grinned, a mouth full of pearly whites as ze undid the chinstrap of the helmet and tossed zir herringbone braid free. "You perverted little shit. I need to give you the full force of the law. You go blasting through the city on that big blue crotch-rocket of yours-"

"With a perverted cop staring at my ass-"

"Breaking every traffic law-"

"Waving that nightstick around like a honking handled dildo-"

It was trash-talking, which not many people could do, but Eric loved it with someone who could play along with him. Good God, but he wanted to suck Rox off - that hadn't happened in a while, and it shook Eric to realize the trust that he placed in Rox.

"It's funny, punk. I think you want to be dickslapped." Rox unbuckled and unzipped, revealing that Officer Friendly liked to wear panties to match zir push-up bra. "Pervert."

"Other pervert. We keep having his conversation, usually with that nightstick up my ass."

"Is that a wish or observation?"

Eric was very busy appreciating Rox's dick under red lace. "I like things up my ass in general, so just mentioning."

"Are you a cocksucker, Butchy Boy?" Rox purred. "You're looking at the dick like it's dessert."

Now there was a question. That was something he hadn't done in a long, long time. For reasons.

"Eric?"

"Haven't in a while. Years, really."

"Ah. Gary."

"Yeah."

"Do you want to suck me?"

"Oh, fuck yes." Eric's mouth actually watered. He could almost taste it.

"Then there need to be ground rules." Rox stepped close and lightly dickslapped him. "If you're going to suck my dick, you're going to do it right."

Something inside of him relaxed at that. Trust Rox. It was okay. Fifteen minutes later, there was a pile of rejected flavored rubbers on one of the stairs.

"They all taste like cough medicine."

"You are a picky, butchy, bossy little brat."

"It's not my fault that most of the guys who invent these things have never had a dick in their mouth."

While Rox went to search for an acceptable alternative, Eric had plenty to keep him busy. The cross-piece for the nightstick was well up his ass being nicely unyielding to his prostate, bungee cords wrapped around his hips and thighs to keep it in place, with the indignity of dripping minty-fresh lube chilling down the back of his balls. He could hear Rox grumbling around the bedroom, then the kitchen.

"Damn it, you're such a mouthy brat, Eric. You need a dick in your mouth to cork you up."

"I'm a fucking trained chef, so I'm picky about what I put in my mouth!"

And maybe a little worried, too.

Rox stomped back into the stairwell with a packet of polyurethane rubbers and a squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup. Fucking yum. Hot-eyed, hard-cocked, with motorcycle cop pants sliding down zir hips. Yes. Oh, fucking hell yes. However-

"That better not be Hershey's, goddammit. Fake-ass chocolate flavoring and HFCS doesn't fly with me, Officer Friendly."

"Fox's U-Bet - it's even Kosher for Passover and it's my last bottle, you twat." Rox tucked the bottle under zir arm, and opened the condom packet, rolling the rubber on over a squirt of lube. "Prima donna attitude. Mouthy fucking power bottoms-"

"Shut up and gimme the dick." Yes, pushing it, but it was like flying with the endorphin high from the bondage and tattooing singing in his blood. "You push that thing good, Officer Friendly."

"I'll give you the dick, boy. Squeeze that nightstick like the cock-hound bottom you are and I'll fuck that filthy mouth of yours instead of your ass." Eric's reply was forestalled by a mouthful of dick and chocolate, Rox's fingers tight in his hair and syrup bottle at the ready. "Be a good boy and I'll cut your cock cage to let you come on my boots. I saw you looking at them. Kinky, wicked, mouthy harlot."

Eric thought he was probably lit up like a slot machine hitting a jackpot. His worries disappeared in a flood of endorphins and lust.

"Suck me right, boy. You can take it deeper. Don't be lazy - throat me."

Lazy? LAZY? My ASS lazy. Take you to the root lazy. Suck you like your dick's a cherry popsicle lazy. Make you hold on to the bannister lazy. Lazy? Make you come like a fucking fountain lazy.

"Look at you, a butchy power bottom on his knees with a pair of bollocks on his chin." Ze tugged his hair, pulling him close until those nuts were indeed on his chin. "Open wide!"

Oh, yes. It was on! Hair pulling trash talking wet and messy blow job with the shot in the chocolate streaked rubber and Rox and fucking hell dammit Red and zir knives and his dick. Ze was going to give him a fucking vasectomy if he sneezed at an inopportune time one of these days. The blood rushed from Eric's head to his freed dick fast enough to make him dizzy.

"Cute little cocksucker, where's your gag reflex? You did such a good job that you get to shoot on my boots - which you can clean later." Rox nudged the leather shaft of the boot right against his cock and then dickslapped him again. "Fuck the leather. Hump yourself off."

"Evil fucker." He wasn't going to last long, his muscles quivering from tailbone to the root of his dick. "Goddamn it why do you use frosty minty lube I swear to fuck that my asshole's numb-" Good. So fucking good that a dry hump on black leather was a little juicier than expected. "You kept me off until you popped and now you w-want to fffuck watch-"

His hips hitched and this time Eric had to bow his back against the heated bliss firing in his brain and loins.

"Your asshole isn't going to be numb tomorrow, Pretty Man. You're not going to be sitting without a fond thought for me for a few days." Ze pulled his head up by the hair. "Faster. Fuck my boot faster, make a sticky mess all over it, you wicked harlot of a boy."

This time Eric groaned, clutching his thighs around Rox's leg and humping without shame, the crosspiece of the nightstick giving his prostate heaven and hell with each thrust.

"Fuckgoddamnityouevilbitchohhellyeshellyesrox-" It was an orgasm to take the top of his head off, to pull every muscle in his body into the same helpless motion. Rox anchored him, stopping the panic before it could root, bending and catching his mouth in a fierce kiss.

"Good boy. Good Eric. Oh, you sweetheart. See? There it is. There we go." Ze crooned, drawing zir booted leg back and wiping down the leather with a handful of Lysol wipes. "It's all right. See?"

Somehow he got his lungs working again, brain blank with shock as ze unbound him. The nightstick and binds when into buckets of hot, soapy water just beyond the door, and ze had to support him speechless and rubber-legged into the bathroom. The chocolate and lube and… contagion washed down the drain, leaving him clean and shaking. Ze tucked Eric into the red satin nest of zir bed, orange juice with a bit of ginger grated in putting his head back on straight.

"Okay?"

It might take a while to answer that. Instead Eric just opened his arms in appeal, and Rox slid under the covers and into them, kissing his chin, cheeks and lips.

"Sleep, Eric. Sleep, lovely lad. I'll be right here when you wake. Shh."

A last thought crossed his mind as Rox's "shh" sent him to sleep. Oh, God. Please don't let me fall in love. I'm so fucking awful at it.

Chapter 17

Summary:

Alan's heading into a one-week break from chemo therapy.

Chapter Text

Ronald had to laugh at his brother this morning. Whatever arrangement was going on between Rox and his brother, it had good results. Ronald was starting to see the Eric he remembered, not the silent and traumatized man getting off a bus at the Port Authority, or the loner and hermit that Eric became as he struggled to recover. Now his brother was singing in the kitchen to the Ramones 'Rockaway Beach.'

Whatever works, Ronald thought with a smile.

"Your chef's on a tear." A guy in a sweet-looking three-piece wool was picking up a large order, a car and driver waiting at the curb. "Here you go."

Ronald swiped the black Amex through. "He's getting creative in there. There's going to be some goodies Friday morning."

"Yeah, we're really familiar with the cookies where I work." The guy paused, fiddling with the pen before signing and adding a good tip. "I don't supposed you'd remember one guy, but his name's Alan-"

"Humphries. I do remember him, he's in here about two or three times a week. One of our favorite customers, actually."

"My name's Chip Winters, I work at Bridges, in legal. Is he… I know he's sick…"

"Oh. Yeah, well. I'd say he's as okay as it gets under the circumstances." Ronnie wanted to guard the man's privacy, seeing as Alan was about as hermity as his brother. "I'd pass along some good wishes if anyone wanted to send them. It's been rough."

"It's cancer? Leukemia is what I heard." He picked up the box of four dozen cookies.

"Yeah. It is." Ronnie put the receipt in the drawer. "He's doing all right, but it's cancer."

"He's really well-liked. Decent. Not a lot of guys on the street can say that. I'll let people know to drop off good wishes here?"

"I think he'd like that. Just make sure that there's nobody sick or anything like that. Chemo hits your immune system - you can't fight things off."

"I will, thanks."

The guy left, the driver opening the door for him, taking the cookies and placing them carefully in the passenger seat. The song changed and Eric boogied right along, the most delicious smells wafting out of the kitchen. Might as well go and see what the Full Metal Chef was cooking. Eric's cooking jams were always epic, and stepping into the back revealed that Eric was in Carnivale/Mardi Gras overdrive, with an array of gustatory hedonism just starting to be placed on the long steel tables.

Empanadas. FUCK YEAH.

"Hey, bro! Gimmie!" Ron walked in making grabby hands at the goodies. "Oh, wow! Is that a chocolate tres leches?"

"Fuck off, Beer Brat. I'm still making breakfast." Eric hefted his strudel dough rolling pin menacingly. "Or you'll be brewing with a concussion."

"Feed me, shithead. I want pancakes." Ronald could do bratty, too. "How's Rox?"

In answer turned and lifted his white t-shirt and showed Ron the new ink under dressings. "Ze was on fire, baby bro."

"Man." Ron leaned in. Those were some awesome butterflies - the detail was mindblowing. "Ze has a great touch. They're hardly seeping at all."

"Ze's like the Bernini of ink." Eric lowered the shirt, still glowing like a Klieg light. "Wait until you see the reactive script."

It was entirely possible that his brother was falling in love. "You and Rox-" Thunderous scowl from Eric. Alert! Forbidden territory ahead. Abort mission! "Shutting up now. Pancakes."

"Will pancakes keep you shut up?"

"Until lunch, then I want some of the shrimp empanadas."

"How about a swift kick in the ass instead?"

"Could you not murder each other until I get my larder stocked? I'm hungry!" Came a plaintive call from the front of the store. "Ronald, stop teasing your brother. Murder in the kitchen is against the health code, I'm sure."

"He's being a dick!" Eric bellowed.

"I'm a fast learner!" Ronald grinned, shouting right after Eric. "Want some pancakes, Alan?"

"Sure, I'd love some!"

Eric was reaching for his throat and Ron backed up with a grin while shooting Eric the finger.

"Be right there, Alan!" Ron called. Ooh. Eric was giving him the glare of death, and Ron turned and skipped down the hall to the front of the shop. It wasn't often when he could score one of his brother, and he smiled sunnily at Alan's reproachful look. "Pancakes will be ready in just a few."

"At this rate, you'll be ducking flung pies at the Shady Pines Rest Home." Alan was piling extra goodies on the counter as Ron took the loaded bags out of the cooler behind the counter. "Don't tell me he starts it, either. You're a horrendous tease."

"I know. He's just fun to poke." Cocking his head, Ron gave Alan a full looking over. "You look better - you're color's much better. How are you feeling?"

"Much better. And I've been able to kick one medicine, save the opiates for really bad days, and wean down the ativan." Setting the panniers on the counter, he continued, "Now I have an argument with my doctors tomorrow over the use of certain unauthorized medicine, then a week off chemotherapy entirely."

"How are your docs going to take that?" There was a sound of Eric starting up the Kitchenaid mixer down the hall, and the scent of bacon. Yes! "They could make trouble."

"Medical confidentiality. Don't worry, I'm not letting them on. If anything they'll think I'm getting it from a black market dispensary." Alan loaded the panniers as Ron rang him up. "I'm just looking forward to the week off."

"What are you going to do? You're going to like this - it's cake, and fruit, and pudding, and cream in a parfait." Ron tucked it in the bag and ahead of Alan's reaching hand. "Nope. You'll spoil your pancakes. Hey, there was a guy in here asking after you. He said he worked in legal. I told him you were doing pretty well, and he wanted to drop off some good wishes."

"I… I'm not the biggest social butterfly in the company. That's a little surprising." Alan rubbed the tip of his nose with a finger. "Wait. Italian suit? Buffed nails? Metrosexual hair?"

"More like a corporate with an up-brush." Ronald had a moment where he wondered why he was noticing the guy's hair. Fucking orientation issues. "Good suit. Italian, I think."

"I know him. Has a thing for Brioni. I prefer Kiton or Canali." He smiled. "Suits. Italian menswear. I fell in love with Italian suits when I was taking vacations in Italy."

The tune changed to the Ramones singing 'Beat on the Brat' and Eric cranked it. "He's all frisky this morning. Sorry."

"It's all right. I'm glad he's feeling good." And if Alan knew the reason for feeling good, he kept it to himself. "He wasn't really going to make pancakes, was he."

Ron found that from somewhere, he could still muster the grace to blush as he lifted the gate to let Alan in.

~

Breakfast with the brothers was a delightful thing, and Alan was quietly worshipful over peach pancakes with buttered pecan topping. The food preempted any peacock displays, though Alan noted in Eric the aftermath of a very good night - no doubt with Rox Sharp. The pancakes were perfectly fluffy with diced peaches evenly throughout, and Eric quizzed him relentlessly about Italy.

Especially seasonings.

"I was a kid when we were there." Ronald said, dumping more bacon onto his plate.

"Yeah, but you were really little Ronnie. Four or five, maybe." Eric flipped more bacon onto their plates. "Naples, then Bologna."

"Lots of spaghetti, that's what I remember."

"Amalfi Coast, Lake Como, wherever there's water. I love to swim." Alan smiled, the memories sweet, but when or if he could go back nobody would say. "I've put them on my bucket list."

Shit. He nearly bit his tongue off in chagrin, but while Ronald looked shocked Eric only nodded. "Yeah. There's a few places on mine, too."

Alan swallowed, then breathed a little in relief. Of course Eric would have a bucket list, too. "Where do you want to go?"

"Amsterdam. Paris. London. I really loved Seattle, too. And there's Hawaii - Kauai." Eric reached out and shook his brother's shoulder. "Not going anywhere yet, Beer Brat."

"I know. Just - I don't like to think about it." Ronald sighed. "Death shouldn't win."

"It's not winning or losing, Ronald." Alan patted the young man's shoulder. "Now, getting to the botanical gardens on Tuesday… that might as well be on my bucket list."

Eric grinned. "Breaking out?"

"Hardly. I'm being chaperoned." Alan sighed. "I sound like a brat. My chemotherapy nurse thinks I'm not ready to solo yet."

"The one with the driver husband?" Ronald asked. "He's become a regular for dinners. He asked if we did kid food."

"Yeah, that's Carmine. He's Andrea's better half. She's a tyrant, but she loved the red velvet cake pops."

Eric, however, had his mind elsewhere - looking off into the middle distance. "I can do kid food. Kids would love my food."

Alan knew that look - it was the look of someone about to have a brilliantly misguided idea. Risk management time. "Everyone who knows anything about children via significant actual and extensive exposure to children raise your hands." No takers. Now to change the subject. "I was hoping to provision for the trip, though. Stuff for energy and maybe a picnic." Andrea was sacrificing a day off. The least he could do was bring goodies. "And cookies."

Eric eyerolled. "You and the sweets. I bet the first thing you did when you were eighteen was eat ice cream for breakfast."

Actually, the first thing he did at eighteen was figure out how not to freeze to death after being thrown out on his ass in the middle of January. "Wrong. Little Debbie Swiss Rolls and hot chocolate. It was too cold for ice cream."

There ensued a surreal discussion about the merits of Little Debbies versus Drakes Cakes, TastyKakes, or Ronald's 'I don't think you've ever heard of them' favorite, Dolley Madisons. Eric declared them both idiots and offered to make them some ramen noodle and Velveeta mac and "orange salty crap that they can't call cheese."

"It's retro food, Eric!"

"It's crap!" Eric hooked a thumb at Alan. "Other than mass-produced snack cakes, this guy knows his shit." A pause and a gleam in those very mischievous blue-green eyes. "Except about salt and fennel."

Oh-ho. Frisky Chef wanted to play? Alan grinned. It was like using a laser pointer to tease a cat. "The classic presentation of bouillabaisse-"

"Is the presentation of the authentic Marseille dish, not the fish-water 'classic' tourist version-"

There were good points to arguing with Hot Butch Honey. It was like mixing porn with the Food Network and the Travel Channel. One of the best points was that there was going to be a tub of bouillabaisse broth, fish and shellfish, plus the classic rouille and bread awaiting him on Friday. Eric was on the phone as he left ordering the fish and seafood. There was more than likely enough fennel in stock.

At home, he went through his emails, and was rather surprised at the volume of interdepartmental emails in his box. And then he saw that they were all good wishes. Get well soon cards, memes, LOLcats, cute animal videos. People were saying they missed him, and... and he didn't have any facial tissue.

"Need to order that."

Alan sacrificed one of his pocket squares, wiping up the tears and blowing his nose. For a long time, he sat and reread the notes, saving them one by one to a new folder on his desktop. They missed him. They thought about him. They didn't want to intrude. They hoped he was getting well. They hoped he'd come back to the offices soon. They had advice, admonishments, and more cute animals videos than he could watch in a week. Then he set up the webcam, put on his knit cap, and started the video.

"Hi, everyone. That was… it was just a lovely surprise and I can't thank you all enough. I'm in treatment, and I'm doing well. Thank you for thinking of me, it means so very much.

Thank you. And Chip, watch out for those cookies if you're not keeping up with your racquetball, all right?" He paused. "It's been rough. And I miss you all, seeing and talking with you every day. I just want you to know that. Good night, and everyone have a good weekend."

It wasn't something he'd thought about. You didn't appreciate the everyday things in life until you faced the prospect of losing them. He uploaded the video to his YouTube account and then sent the link to everyone - all 115 accounts who'd sent him notes. Then he opened up his files, settled back on the couch with his laptop and began to prepare is recommendations into the latest prospective acquisitions. Alan put his headset on, opened Mindmap, and got to work.

Case one: Sometimes very stupid people have a lot of money, very little sense.

"It is not my job to save people from the consequences of their own stupidity and greed." Alan dictated, talk converted to text. "They dove into this one against the best advice we had to offer, so let them take the bath they signed up for. The bailout's an insult and the C-levels would piss it away on their own salaries. I'm putting in a 'Hell no' on this one. I'll provide alternative purchasers, but these tools need to be out of a job. Report attached."

Case two: When cooking the books at least spend the money on someone who is capable of producing well-cooked books.

"They have massive liability in the form of two highly toxic properties they're trying to unload before the EPA comes after them It's been the same shell game since I was about six. They're running out of shells to hide the toxic pea under. Whoever ends up holding the bag on this one may be in bad shape depending on the outcome of Estate of John Ray Wheeler alias Monongahela Salvage v. EPA. Not recommended. Full report follows."

Case three: He hadn't seen such blatant bullshittery since his undergraduate Modern Lit paper on Ayn Rand.

"And they are in violation of the FCPA. 'Cost of doing business' and 'related expenses' my ass."

It was odd, he was working about as much as he did at the office, but in less contiguous blocks of time. There were times he had to put the laptop aside and sleep, and other times he'd be busy in the middle of the night, working and wondering if he was the only person awake in the financial district.

He fielded phone calls from his superiors and in addition to his regular Thursday meetings, he was chided for making people sniffly. Everyone was concerned. You need to eat more. Darleen in accounting is going to knit a sweater for you. People knew about the place on Pearl Street now - thanks to Chip, the cookies, and the inability of anyone in legal to keep their mouths shut about anything until paid to do so.

"And after tomorrow, I have a week free from chemo and the other drugs. Apparently they want to see what my bounce looks like." Alan sipped cautiously at a cayenne-spiked lemonade of Eric's invention and almost smacked his lips. It was just tart enough and had enough of a kick to make his eyelids sweat. "After I recuperate, I'm taking a few days to go places that are not the hospital."

Well, make that one place and see how it goes, but he wasn't going to say that. He still had some dignity, here. He signed off with everyone's good wishes, and then just lay back on the couch and stared at the tin-tiled ceiling for a while. He was dreading tomorrow, and he was dreading intensification. Andrea had been honest with him about that first day of phase two, and had promised to stay with him for the intrathecal.

The very idea of a spinal made him want to throw up. The one he'd had in the emergency room had been so much more than enough.

"Okay, Alan?" He addressed himself, "Go over your presentation for tomorrow, do some yoga, then eat and go to bed." He didn't need to wind himself up.

Setting up the laptop, Alan went through the medical cannabis presentation, looked over the hand-out folders, and brought it in at ten minutes. That would leave enough time for the arguments… hm… question and answer period. Packing up the laptop, he left it on charge and put his things in order for tomorrow. Snacks and juices, a bottle of water, and a small bottle of trace mineral drops - it had reduced his cravings for salt, too - slippers, Kindle. After a moment of hesitation, he added his chemo shirt, a flannel shirt, and his comfortable jeans. If he had to bring out the high caliber ammunition, he might as well look the part.

"Full battle dress." He selected a Kiton suit in light grey wool, Bruno Cucinelli tie and pocket square, Harry's of London black wingtips, Moreschi belt, and a French-cuffed Finamore light blue dress shirt. "But what to do about the head?"

Alan considered this in the mirror. The fade was holding, and he looked ridiculous in a hat - of which he didn't own any. Maybe he ought to invest.

"Then again, considering where else you're losing hair, I wouldn't have such a pity parade about the stuff on your head." Losing one's pubic hair was disconcerting, and a little embarrassing - even if nobody else knew. He quickly tried on the suit, pleased that enough weight had come back that the clothing didn't hang on him. "Okay. Even for a cancer patient, I look good."

And in the morning, he needed every advantage he could get. To say his team was not on board with this was understating the case, but damn it to hell he was going to turn them around or pitch them fucking well overboard.

In the morning he entered the room, set up his laptop, and started the second the last of his team was seated. Research. Evidence. Science. Twenty thousand extant papers about the efficacy of C. indica, C. ruderalis, C. Sativa, and their native cannabinoids in various clinical settings and there's no research? Alan hit them with everything he could about the body of research on the drugs they were giving him.

"Six hundred extant papers on oxycontin." Alan let his voice drip icicles as he went through the drugs and proposed drugs they'd given him. He slapped the folder down on the desk. "I am out of patience with the lot of you. You asked for evidence, and facts, and science, and there it is. It's on the internet, freely available to medical professionals and researching scientists such as yourselves. Sticking your fingers in your ears and going 'LALALALA!' is not going to cut it with me. If I can do my homework on this - and regain five pounds - then so can you. I expect better."

Alan was aware that he was standing beside his chair, and had just read off a whole table of physicians. Did he care? He checked. No, not a bit.

"If you have legitimate, quantifiable concerns, then I expect whats, wheres, whens, hows, and whys. Not to be a human beta test, and not to be kept in the dark." He let his voice sharpen. "Most of all, I do not expect you to look like a class of undergrads who have figured out that they're going to have to work. I was a TA, ladies and gentlemen, and I know the look. Do better. Next order of business?"

Alan sat down and composed himself. The suit had been the right call.

"It's still illegal," Dr. Chowdree said. "It's a street drug-"

"I obtain the substance from a highly reliable botanical geneticist, who is well versed in the medicinal properties his products." Eric needed a doctorate - that notebook of research and Eric's own notes were a few steps, duct tape, and a thesaurus from being his dissertation. "I have the utmost confidence in the science."

"From black market dispensary, Dr. Humphries?" Dr. Millard sniffed.

"Five pounds, good sleep, reduced pain, reduced nausea, and less gastrointestinal distress without the side effects and risk of addition presented and documented by ativan and the vicodin." Alan rebutted. "Let's not mention the oxycontin, or the side effects of the antidepressants you were ready to shovel at me. I'm willing to be the beta test on this one; informed consent has always been a biggie with me." Zing. "I don't like being an aftermarket statistic, especially when it involves surprise catheters."

"I would be interested, Dr. Humphries, in measuring your C-reactive protein, erythrocyte sedimentation rate, and plasma viscosity to map any reduction in the inflammation." Dr. Kelsy, his rheumatologist, spoke quietly as she pushed her glasses up. "The effects you're describing need to be validated by the numbers. If there's a significant reduction in your C-reactive and ESR, I'll back it."

Sometimes, all you needed was just one. He couldn't say that everyone was aboard with this, but first Dr. Kelsy, then Dr. Oh, then Dr. Chowdree were enough to hammer the others if not into compliance, then into shutting up and going along. Then they all shook hands and smiled while thinking in four letter words, and everyone was happy. Alan felt as if he'd swum twenty laps, but by God he'd won this one.

He went to the chemotherapy floor, feeling lighter of mind and heart than he had in a while. Only to get razzed for his suit by Andrea.

"Fancy, fancy, fancy, Alan." Andrea mock-fanned herself. "Carmine said you were sporting drop-dead threads today, but I had no idea."

"I paid him in cookies and pudding cups to keep quiet." The Peacock Brothers were rubbing off on him. Alan put a bit of a preen and strut in it. "A good suit is to men what lingerie is to women - it only serves its purpose if it ends up on the bedroom floor."

Andrea cracked up, having to sit in the chemo chair until she got it under control. "You are terrible. I like it."

"I told you that you were a gay guy in a girl suit." Alan took off his cufflinks, tie and tie tack. "I brought my chemo wear. Just let me get changed."

"All right. I'll come back in a few minutes, Mr. Hot Stuff." She pulled him down to kiss his forehead. "I'm glad you're feeling better."

He hugged her hard. "Couldn't do it without you, Didi."

"You are one of two people on earth who gets to call me that." She hugged him back. "Get changed, I have to print out new marching orders."

"Okay. And I brought you some goodies, too." The scrambled egg in sippy cup did him in. He brought her a real breakfast. "Scoot. I'll be all settled in when you get back."

Andrea scooted, and Alan got undressed, emptied his briefcase and folded the suit, shirt, and accessories into it. The shoes went into their felt bag in his backpack, and the slippers came out. He left the silk boxers and socks on, then changed into his chemo clothing and settled into the chair. He'd eat the brownie before she started his infusion.

Andrea came back in. "New marching orders from Dr. C, Alan. He's lightened up on the ativan, due to a 'new medication.' I take it you won?"

"I at least hammered them into going along." Alan sat up for the usual exam. "Dr. Kelsy was interested enough to say so."

"She's really new, but I hear good things about her." Andrea palped his arm and shoulder, looking for infection, tenderness and swelling. "Excited for next week?"

"So much! I just want to go out and do things." That it was complicated by the dread of intensification he left unsaid. "Even if it's just spending a beautiful spring day in a garden."

Andrea chuckled, smiling behind her mask. "You have the zoomies."

"I do not. I have cabin fever." He lay back as Andrea prepped his portacath for the blood draw. It was embarrassing, but he still was not good with needles. "It's been a month of not going or doing. I miss it."

"What time do you want me to pick you up on Tuesday?" Andrea asked as Alan closed his eyes. He knew it was not possible, but he could feel the portacath in his body as his bloods were being taken and it hit him funny sometimes. "I was thinking about nine."

"I was, too. I really want to go do something before it starts again." The thought of a spinal tap with chemo going into him made him put his head down and try not to shake. "Sorry."

"It's all right, Alan. I know it's scary." She put his port right, covered it, then hugged him gently. "I've arranged with Dr. Chowdree to be with you all the way through."

"So I'm only going to think about the gardens. We're going to have a great day." Alan said firmly. "And I'm picking up goodies from Pearl Street."

"They've been taking good care of you." Andrea racked the little tubes of blood. "Carmine brings dinner from there at least twice a week."

"And I brought you breakfast!" Alan reached down and pulled up the backpack. "Buckwheat and peach pancakes, scrambled eggs with spinach, walnuts, and goat cheese, plus bacon."

Andrea literally squealed. "Why can't a girl have two husbands?"

~

William had to wait for General Affairs to send Maintenance to repair his office, then had to go to Cordelia and apologise. She was not jealous, that was mortal silliness, but she was enraged with him on Grell's behalf and had made her points with exceptional force. It was also indisputable that he had left her with incomplete information by not informing her of the exact nature of Eric Slingby's and and Alan Humphries' deaths. The worst part is that she did have very salient points, and William felt like a pincushion and punching bag by the time she slammed the door.

The London Dispatch was quiet, with the staff walking very softly past the Dispatch Manager's office. Cordelia's Reapers toed the mark, stood straight, and listened sharp - despite being disorderly, rowdy, and libidinous off duty. In every way, they were exemplary Reapers. William gave three precisely-timed knocks and let himself in - against all the frantic, silent advice of the Dispatch staff shaking their heads and making frantic cutting motions with their hands.

"I provided you with facts, but not with vital details that included the involvement of the demon known as Sebastian, and your late husband, as well as Grell's role and my own in the undesirable outcome." One had to get out of the gate fast, or Cordelia would ride right over you. "I also admit to my own ineffectuality in attempting to rectify the situation with Grell, and I am not an arsebackwards and thudfingered idiot, and despite the outcome of a truly horrific misjudgment on which no actual malice was consciously predicated."

Cordelia rubbed a spot above her right eyebrow, giving him one of her particular looks. Will reached out and offered an awkward rub.

"You are still an idiot." But she took off her glasses and leaned into the rub. "Do you know what it takes to be angry with you?"

"You should have told me you wished to see Grell. There was no need to sneak into my ledger." The Dowager Duchess Phantomhive bore tremendous but unexpected loyalty to Grell for saving the family from disgrace, and for saving her life as she lay dying. "I understand some things, you know."

Cordelia sighed. "It's complicated, Will. There's so much between Grell and myself."

Angelina Dalles, the Campania Incident, Grell's persistent involvement with that demon butler, and the inexplicable decision to make Elizabeth Ethel Cordelia Middleford into a Reaper.

Not that he could or should complain.

"Should I visit Grell again?" Will asked. "To make things clearer."

"Dearest darling, ze intends to tear your heart out and eat it. I would let things settle somewhat."

"That is a figure of speech."

"Are you sure about that?"

"... with Grell it is perhaps more prudent to assume the bloodiest interpretation possible."

"I told Rox that I wanted zir to come home."

William let that sink in. "That, in light of Grell's previous exile, and his… her desire to eat my heart, would be exceedingly unwise."

"I am Dispatch Manager. I have sole discretion over my Reapers." Cordelia put her foot down to Administration as hard as he ever had. Meddling with the Dispatch managers was a good way to spend time regrowing body parts and vital organs. "Ze turned me down. At the moment ze feels too much responsibility toward the reincarnates, one of which is her current lover. As he was before, which you forgot to mention."

"I… am behind modern times perhaps. What is this pronoun?"

"You are one hundred and twenty-five years my senior - cradle robber."

"You were not in a cradle when I met you. As I remember, you were sticking me with a sword." And Will remembered it quite well; his first meeting taught him to never get between Cordelia and her intended target. "It was quite rude, sticking first and asking questions later. Hasty. Not to mention unsubtle and indiscreet."

"Shut up and rub, William."

William shut up and rubbed. His question would be answered in sideways fashion, some time later, no doubt. It was awkward, ungraceful, and perhaps hazardous to his person, but William did want Cordelia to return to his residence with him. Sleep was so much more pleasant when there was someone warm in bed.

"The shift is over, will you not put on your coat?" he asked.

Cordelia looked at him over the top of her glasses, amused. "William."

"I am attempting to remedy the serial situations in which I have not expressed myself adequately or clearly as to-"

Some kisses needed to come with a warning.

And there was no need to crumple his tie.

Chapter 18

Summary:

Good stews are simple in presentation, but can be highly complex - and sometimes a little more complicated than they seem.

Alan was muzzy enough that Andrea accompanied him down to the lobby and handed him over to Carmine. The brownie dosed with high-CBD cannabis kicked in some time after the benadryl and when he woke up there were a lot less in the way of warning signals that the post-chemo misery was incoming. Still, he ended up sleeping again on the way downtown, awaking only when he remembered bouillabaisse - that was today!

Only the Frisky Chef could take his mind off chemo.

"Carmine? I need to stop by Pearl Street. My bouillabaisse!" Alan wrestled himself upright and blinked. They were at Houston and traffic was packed. "I finally got Chef Hotshot to put his court bouillon where his big mouth is."

Carmine laughed and lowered the partition. "You've met the guy? I've met the steampunky club kid - Ron."

"That's his little brother."

"I want to pick up dinner, so I'll come in with you. Are you going to be okay to eat?"

Alan assessed himself. "I think I am. I'll see how I feel in a couple of hours. But I am not giving up on the bouillabaisse."

"Got your pops?"

Carmine avoided calling them Preggo Pops for the sake of Alan's dignity, but Alan's dignity would be far more offended by getting car-sick. He held up the little Altoids tin and rattled it. "All is well. What are you thinking of for dinner?"

"Didi wants some of the white seafood lasagne and a loaf of their olive oil ciabatta, but it's a little advanced for the kids." Carmine sighed. "They're in the 'cut the crusts off the bread' stage and 'I want spaghetti' stages. Oh, and Cheerios. We're going nuts trying to to get them to eat nutritious stuff."

"He does good food, but you're right about the kids. When I was little I was the same way, and I didn't suffer from malnutrition. Do they still make Flintstone's vitamins? That was my mom's go-to." Alan pushed himself up in the seat. Still no nausea, just the usual 'coming down with something' feeling. "Or is it Sponge Bob vitamins?"

"Flintstones. We're old school." Carmine craned his neck. "Parking fucking sucks right now. Want me to run in and grab the goodies?"

"Reverse order. Run it around the block and I'll run in." Alan tucked his wallet into his hip pocket, looking with dismay at the mini traffic jam around Pearl Street. "It's no longer a best kept secret."

"Partially my fault, I bring some of my clients by here. The food's so good."

"Mine, too. I used to bring cookie plates every Friday - and someone missed that enough to track down the cookies. Here I go!" He was out of the back seat and squeezing between a double-parked Caddy and a Beemer with a single digit salute for the horns, then on the sidewalk and in the door. "Ronald, you're a bona fide Financial District thing. Sorry I'm late."

Ronald opened the gate and ushered Alan through, pausing in handing out brown paper Pearl Street Kitchen bags stuffed to the handles with comestibles. "Yeah, this is rush hour for us. All those dinners going out. Your driver called one in and Eric's got your bouillabaisse in the back."

"Can Carmine pull in around back? They're parking out there like they're auditioning for a new Mad Max movie."

"Sure, I've got that order in the back anyway. Go on in - Eric's been hovering over that bouillabaisse like it holds the secrets of the universe."

The kitchen was a flurry with just one person in it, and Alan scooted to the side into the safety of the alcove. Pulling out his phone, he called Carmine.

"Pull into the alley around the back. Your dinner's ready to go."

Eric marked brown bags with a Sharpie, set one marked 'Capello' next to one marked 'Humphries' then bellowed, "Last batch, Ronnie!"

"Eric, we're out of everything!"

"Close it up, then!" Eric bellowed again in a voice that likely carried to South Street.

Alan took advantage of the maelstrom to look at the tab on the Capello's bag and hang a fifty on it, then open the top of his bag and take a look. He'd wait until tomorrow to eat it. Just in case. What was in the Tupperware tub at the bottom? Alan had one guess, and it started with

'b' and ended with Eric Slingby, Hot Butch Honey Chef.

He raised an eyebrow at Eric - who simply gave him a cocky grin and twirled a spatula between his fingers. "Dessert's a local specialty."

~

Eric couldn't say exactly why he did it. Jerking chains and mouthing off just came naturally. Mr. Twinkie looked a little pale and tired, but a bit of Eric Slingby's Authentic Homemade Smartassery perked him right up.

"They've helped a great deal. Thank you." Humphries said, pausing then continuing. "Now, you normally do better than that jerking my chain, you big butch flirt."

Was that a return flirt? That was a return flirt. Eric grinned and gave a bit of a strut as he loaded the bagged dinners to go on the cart. "Yeah, you're feeling pretty good - all feisty."

"Why is it smaller people are always termed as feisty?" Humphries huffed, a twitch of the lips indicating amusement. "We can be just as hubristic as, say, highly skilled hotshot chefs built like their Viking ranges."

Eric preened, gratified his guess that Humphries flirted by argument was correct - and a little by the compliments, too. "I didn't know you were checking out my range."

There was an exchange of horns from the alley followed by. "Scoot it in, cutie. There's a cake in there with my name on it!"

"Blow me kisses all you want, Red - this is my spot!"

He and Humphries looked at each other. "Oh, Lord." "Oh, Lord."

"My driver, Carmine Capello."

"My tattooist, Rox Sharp."

Ronald spoke behind both of them. "My glee. Do it for the Vine, fellas."

Eric shoved the cart at Ronald, forcing him to juggle his phone. "Out, Beer Brat. Give those hungry people their food and then close it up."

"But-"

"OUT."

Ronald outed.

"Rox Sharp, tall tattoo artist, gives to queer youth and HIV-related charities, seriously avant garde with a car collection?" Humphries asked.

Eric nodded. "Tall Italian redheaded livery driver with two fussy kids and a wife who loves the white lasagna?"

"Exactly - his wife is also my chemotherapy nurse."

And then there was a whole lot of long, tall, and red with shoulders to make him unf in his kitchen. Even Humphries was a little round eyed. Rox in red ballet flats was maybe a half-inch shorter than Capello, and flipping zir long red braid.

Eric raised his hands. "Ronnie said that Capello could park there, because he's driving Humphries who is picking up his classic and correctly seasoned bouillabaisse, and dinner for his own family."

You had to get the first word in when the braid flipping started, or ze would go all night.

"Here I thought you'd started curating a collection of redheads." Rox sniffed. "Who's Mr. Long and Lean? Make some introductions, Eric."

"Bossing my ass around in my own kitchen. Behave or no cake for you." He'd pay for that later - hopefully - but his kitchen was his kitchen. "Right, Rox Sharp meet Carmine Capello, who drives for that guy over there - Alan Humphries. Capello, I'm Eric Slingby - I own and operate this nuthouse. Your white lasagna's ready and I did kid food. Humphries, this is Rox Sharp - my tattoo artist. Capello, that hipster dork over there is my brother Ronnie Knox who makes killer beer. Everyone out, Ronnie?"

"Yeah, and the cases are cleaned out. Man, what a rush hour!" It was just so cute how Ronnie would get all chirpy around Rox - little bro was sorting out his orientation issues pretty well. "There's a shitload of orders for Monday dinners, I have them on the iPad."

Eric took it and looked it over, then whistled as he added up the raw materials in his head. "I'll get the orders done tonight. Might have to make a few trips in the Snot Rocket."

"I can't go. Have a date." Ronnie preened. "Stacy's in town."

"I thought you were going to Monica's." That boy and his dick. "And what about that girl from Velvet who was blowing up your phone?"

"She dumped me. I'm soothing my wounds." He looked at Eric with big puppy-dog eyes. "That new cheesecake in the fridge upstairs would be such a comfort."

Eric sighed - he was such a fucking pushover. "Go. Put the cake in a box and the box in a cooler bag."

Ronnie shot up the stairs like a bottle rocket, leaving Eric in the kitchen with two long-stemmed redheads and a short-stemmed brunet. At another time, under other circumstances, Eric would have just called it a three-course tasting menu - because wedding band or not, Carmine Capello was pinging his gaydar and he might be pinging Capello's. Or maybe he was just getting a thing for redheads.

Rox was chatting enthusiastically with Humphries, very touchy with the fingers though, and Eric turned his attention to Capello. Capello flicked his gaze to Humphries, then raised an eyebrow at Eric. What? No way. Eric raised both of his in return and flicked his gaze to Rox. Capello considered that, then flicked his gaze again to Humphries and again back to Eric, this time with a more questioning expression. Eric shrugged uncomfortably. Even if the attraction was there, it was complicated by a lot of different factors. Time to change the subject. Eric checked Capello out, glancing at the wedding band. Capello gave a one-shouldered shrug and tapped his phone with the ring finger. Ah. Someone had to let him off the leash. Yes. Eric let his gaze slide to Rox, and gave back the same one-shouldered shrug. Capello smiled, a real one, and nodded. Loud and clear.

"Let me know what the kids think of the kid food." He slid the bag over to Capello. "My baby bro was picky as hell when he was in grade school."

"I will for sure. We're just trying to keep them from rickets and scurvy at this point."

"I survived on my mom's grilled cheese sandwiches, Campbell's tomato soup, Fritos, Captain Crunch, and Flintstone's vitamins until I was old enough to cook. They'll be fine."

"What do I owe?" Capello reached for his wallet as Eric shook his head.

"Kid food's free because it's an experiment, and Humphries snagged the tab before you came in."

~

It was almost overwhelming. Zir lads. Zir lads were all here. It was a joy like sunlight and a pain like a scythe in the guts. Ronald was bouncing around like a gangly puppy. Eric was trading speaking looks with the lanky Italian redhead - that boy and his prick. And Alan. Rox removed zir gloves to shake his hand, knowing that William would have a flappy fit over it. If a Reaper's touch could stave off the Shadow or turn it away entirely, Rox was all for it.

"So pleased to meet you, Mr. Humphries." It was eerie the way this Alan's hands felt the same as zir Alan's hands. "I've seen you at some of the Safe Spaces functions."

"How do you do? I remember the candy-apple red '62 Corvette you donated to last year's fundraiser. Two of my bosses didn't speak to each other for a week when one outbid the other."

"That was you who brought the big dollar bidders?" Ze left a lipstick mark on his cheek. "That's for bringing the deep pockets."

He was wide-eyed, but this was Alan - always a little startled with people.

"All I had to do was dangle that car. That was the star of the show."

"And you know Eric and Ronnie well enough to have parking privileges. I am fascinated." Rox was not going to let on that she'd seen him passed out in one of the recliners. Ze walked zir fingers up his arm. "Eric's been hiding you."

He still had a lovely blush, stammering and disclaiming. "I've been… um… that is… Ronald and Eric are very good friends…"

Eric paused in his silent flirtation with the Italian cutie, who was making speculative glances between Eric and Alan, and arched an eyebrow at zir. Ze did have a thing for men who could Spock. Rox arched zir eyebrow right back and grinned. Eric was gearing up for a strop, and that was a good thing.

"Behave, you." Zir Pretty Man grumped.

"But I'm so bad at it." Rox purred back. "Alan, you have to assert yourself with this one or he rolls right over you."

"He loves to argue, too." Alan affirmed, looking as if he might be getting a little of his own back.

"Pot to kettle, Mr. Wall Street Guy." Eric crossed his arms and shot one hip. Ze would have to have him pose naked like that - it was a good look.

"He's a terrible tease, Mx. Sharp. Possibly one of the best chefs in Lower Manhattan, though." Alan hefted his bag and Capello watched the interplay. "Mr. Slingby, thank you for the traditionally prepared bouillabaisse. I shall have your feedback shortly."

"All right." Eric seemed to be parsing Alan again, communicating on another spectrum above everyone else, and Alan picked up on it.

"I'm fine. The new medicine has helped immeasurably. I look forward to a lovely feast and revisiting some fond memories." Alan smiled and it was as sweet and kind as spring. "No need to worry."

How many times had ze heard that before.

Eric gave a too-casual shrug. "Might be better the second day. Lets the flavors blend." Alan gave Eric the 'I know what you're doing look' over the rims of his glasses and Eric returned it with a cocky grin. "The fennel is much more subtle that way."

"Hm. Subtle you say." The tone was deadpan, but Alan was trying not to smile.

Rox watched them banter and flirt, feeling as if ze could close zir eyes and ze'd be back in the Dispatch with zir juniors once more. It was amusing that Eric and Alan fell so easily into their mating dances. Oh, ze didn't want to give Eric up - he was loving and affectionate… and mortal.

Oh, dear.

That, again.

Alan made his farewells, as did the hunky driver - was Alan hitting that? He'd been flirting a mile a minute with Eric, with a wedding band on his ring finger, too. Maybe Eric was getting a thing for tall, sexually versatile redheads with shoulders. There would be interrogation this evening.

"Look at you, you flirty thing. All aglow." Rox pursed zir lips and looked him over. A month in zir care had worked wonders. "Goodness, you looked positively hungry."

Eric blushed. Right on target. "Shut up."

Rox advanced, stalking gracefully. "I believe you called it "test driving" - right?"

"No cake for you."

"Your ears are just scarlet, Pretty Man." Hooking zir fingers in the front of his trousers, ze reeled him in. "Tell Boss Rox your naughty thoughts."

"Tasting menu. I was thinking tasting menu." The poor dear facepalmed, the ears deepening to a shade just short of aubergine.

"Mmm. You are so missish for a pervert. It's quite the thrill." Rox insinuated zir fingers into the waistband of his underthings. "You can't bang everyone, dearest. It takes practice - you have to work up to it."

"Hey! I am not going to-"

Ze kissed him before he could say something stupid. Oh, the stroppy thing kissed zir silly while giving a sharp smack to zir ass in a way that made her squirm happily. "Bossy, butchy brat. Is Ronald out for the night?"

"In a few. He's getting changed and raiding the fridge." Eric did not let go of zir rear end, nuzzling and nibbling at zir ear. "He's got a hot date that requires cheesecake."

Oh, my. The Pretty Man was trying to seduce zir, kissing so sweetly. "You stroppy thing. You just want to get in my knickers."

"Or get you out of them-"

"You've locked down my toy." Ze did love cutting the silicone cage off, though.

"You're a boner hazard, Red. I'm making an innocent Béarnaise and bam - boner! It's like puberty again."

Rox laughed, pushing zir leg between his. "I think you're just making up for lost time. You've been celibate for so long."

He wrapped his arms around zir. "It's like everything's waking up again. I can't tell you what it's like. Like being dead and coming back to life, maybe."

Would zir kisses and zir touch add years to Eric's life, or could they hold back the sickness enough to matter? Oh, bloody hell, ze was falling in love with him and ze was so awful at it.

He broke the kiss and nuzzled zir ear, giving a playful tug on zir earring with his teeth before asking, "Come upstairs?"

Eric's voice held a hint of a deep burr, and Rox felt zirself go a little weak in the knees. It wasn't fair that certain men just put zir brains right down into zir knickers. "You are sometimes a very bad man."

"I hope so." Then he had the nerve to kiss that spot on zir neck that made zir breath catch and her heart do flips. "Come upstairs with me?"

Oh, hell. Nuzzly. Kissy. Sweet as sugar and twice as horny. How long since ze had bottom time? Too long. "Yes."

Ronnie was singing in the shower as they crept past the bathroom door and down the hallway to Eric's room. Brain in zir knickers. Right. And as soon as the door shut behind them, neither of them could get their clothing off fast enough. It was hard to retain one's dignity when one tripped getting out of one's own pants and knocked one's lover onto his bed. It was even harder to care about one's dignity when one's lover wrapped his arms around one and kissed one until one's IQ dropped ten points.

It made zir feel young again. Young and giddy, foolish and randy, believing that love-

Oh, no. Not again.

Rox broke the kiss and remembered to breathe. "Eric, are you in love with me?"

It took him a moment to engage the upstairs brain and his eyes widened. "Why - are you in love with me?"

"No. Absolutely not." Oh, what a lie.

"Good. Me neither." He lied right back.

"Okay." One should keep the lies mutual, after all.

"All right." And the kiss made further liars of them both.

Rox broke the kiss again. "Rubbers. Now. Gimme."

"You don't have any?"

"I came for cake - not for nookie, cookie."

Eric started to get up, then paused. "Ronnie's still in the bathroom. What- No, wait. I've got it."

Rolling out of bed, Eric kicked his trousers in the general direction of the hamper and took an Altoids tin from the top of his dresser.

"Breath mints? Hand it over." Ze held out a hand and he gave her the tin. "What kind of mischief-" Inside zie found breath mints, but also two little pillow packs of lubricant and two condoms. "You wicked little hedonist. This was in your pocket the night I brought you home. It's a booty call kit."

"Ronnie's idea." It was so amusing to make Eric blush.

"Yes, but who taught him? This is a big-brotherish thing to do." Waggling the box, Rox laughed. "Come here, Pretty Man. Let me get that thing off you. I want you very badly."

That was no lie. Eric being both sweet and rammish promised a very good time. It was with amusement that ze noted how he held his breath as she dispatched the silicone cage. Really, ze would have to come up with a more durable alternative if ze didn't want to keep denting his wallet with destroying the things.

"Red, you're murdering my bank balance - I've had to start buying them wholesale in New Jersey." It was difficult for Eric to stay grumpy when he hardened that fast. Ze gave him a stroke that tipped his head back and made his hips flex.

"You were saying?"

"Dunno. More."

Ze tore the wrapper open with zir teeth, and unrolled the lubricated nitrile over the rosy head of his prick and down the shaft. "Hedonist. Harlot. I love your repressed urges darling, especially when I'm face down and you're riding me as if I have 'Six Flags' stamped on my arse."

"It's a pretty ass. Cute, even."

The nerve! Ze smacked his thigh. "You impertinent bastard, everything about me is ravishing, stunning, and flamboyant - I don't do cute."

Oh, that was an Evil Eric smile if Rox ever saw one.

"Cuuuute." The big lummox cooed, crawling onto the bed and lying atop zir. "Like when your freckles get really bright when you're going to-" He laughed and nuzzled zir when ze pummeled his ass. "-come. You bite your lip when you're getting ready to come, and just before you do your freckles look like little bits of rose petals or paprika-"

"Bastard. Teasing wretch." Those muscles. That arse. Wrapping zirself around him ze exerted a little more strength to flip them both - but carefully, as mortals were delicate. "I want a fucking, Eric."

"Gimme the Altoids box." He rubbed his hands up zir thighs and hips.

"You taste fine, Pretty Man. I like the places your mouth has been." Ze settled down on him, grateful for the results of a fresh sugar wax even if the application and removal made zir howl. "I like the way you use your mouth, too. Verrry talented cocksucker, you are."

"I need the lube for that cute ass, sweetheart."

Eric's endowment was on the thick side of generous, and as much as zie wished for different bits with which to enjoy him, the plain truth was that getting in bed with Eric made zir not care. He made zir shameless whatever gender ze sported that day. Ze handed him the box and pursed her lips in disapproval of the lube.

"Boring, Eric. With all the flavors out there you pick plain old water-based in a longneck?"

"It's versatile! Besides, I have to keep Ronnie stocked up. That boy is all over town." Eric opened the top of the tube with a flick of his thumbnail. "I'll have you know that my asshole and balls were minty-fresh for three damn days after my last visit with Officer Friendly and the Night Stick of Doom."

If you couldn't laugh while having sex with someone, you shouldn't be fucking them - and Rox was laughing so hard that ze had tears in her eyes. "You bitch about swamp balls all the time. I gave you nice mentholated fresh balls. M-make up your mind."

"Like that?" Eric's grin was wolfish and hungry as he slipped the elongated tip of the lube packet into zir, sending a surge of heat from brain to balls. "Red, you look so good…"

"B-bastard brat wicked bloody ahh strumpet-" Zie took his prick in grip, positioning zirself and then slowly easing down. "Hedonist, you look so good on your ba- oh on your back!"

"Talk mean to me, lover." Eric groaned, his hands tightening on zir hips as ze opened for him. "Ride my dick like you stole it."

"Mouthy service brat, this is my pretty cock to play with." The stretch was lovely, making Rox shameless to scratch that itch. "If you pop your shot before I tell you to, you'll have it locked down for a week."

Oh. Oh, perfect. Ze didn't mind zir bits when Eric's prick pressed to zir prostate and the wicked thing rocked his hips just so. Lovely pace on the lad, that was for certain.

"Wanna make you pop, Red. Make your freckles stand out and play with your titties." Eric rasped, the flush on his cheeks and the bright gaze showing what ze missed when he'd have zir from behind or on top. "Fuck my hand, lover. Ride me hard and make a mess-"

"B-bossy butchy boy, gimme that dick!" Oh, spare a thought for poor Ronnie, getting an awful earful as Eric took a grip on zir hips and bucked. "Lazy-arse power bottom, the only thing you move is your mouth-"

The slats of Eric's bed creaked in protest, and Rox couldn't help zirself when he made a perfect rub. Eric lifted zir knees off the bed as he met zir coming back down. "Lazy? I've give you lazy-"

"Work that ass for me, you stroppy strumpet-"

"Fuck you, kiss me when you talk trash with that mean mouth-"

He got his feet on the headboard and a grip on her arse and ze couldn't kiss him because she was too busy telling him to fuck zir harder.

And then he had a hand in zir hair and kissed zir just as perfectly as he fucked and- "Fuck oh fuck Eric don't you-"

"Come for me come for me Red a little more come on want to feel you coming on my cock-"

It took everything ze had not to bite and to keep him from seeing zir lose control of zir teeth, but oh ze made a mess of his belly and chest when ze arched and zir toes curled and the heat bloomed in zir loins and zir brain-

Oh, ze did hope Ronnie had left for the evening.

Then he kissed zir - warm, perfect, sweet, and loving - and ze kissed him back. It wasn't lying if you didn't say anything, after all.

~

It was good to awaken next to someone warm, William thought. Cordelia, like a cat, took up a great deal of room as she sprawled, hogged the blankets and in general slept on him. However, since he slept like - no pun intended - the dead, it didn't matter how Cordelia slept. William slept through pretty much everything. Well, everything except Cordelia nuzzling his ear, segueing into her preferred method of waking up, and embracing him with the passion of a goddess. Whatever he had done right, however he came to have her in his life, William was deeply grateful - and not just when she'd lie with him.

But his life was bliss when she would.

He should tell her.

"I should tell you that ah I am d-deeply fond of you and not just when you are willing to hmn have me in your bed-"

Cordelia opened her eyes, fingernails digging into his shoulders. "William - now? OH! Yes there like that, William now!"

Now-? Mmmnow! Cordelia's heels drummed on his arse as he gave her what she was asking for. Sweet and slick and strong around him and her fingernails and there was no call to do to to him such violence especially when it drove him to fever pitch and it was a good thing that reapers did not need to breathe because the bliss and release was such that he could not. They did quite make a wreck of her bed, but it was pleasant to lie entwined with her afterward, kissing the flush from her cheeks. Cordelia's fingers stroked the nape of his neck.

"Sweet old soul," she murmured to him."What would I do without you?"

"You would likely experience less frustration that causes you to upend my office," he replied thoughtfully. "Though I must admire the level of terror that you have inspired in the Dispatch at the mere possibility of your disquiet."

"William?"

"Yes?"

"Rhetorical."

Then for reasons that would likely remain mysterious, Cordelia kissed him again. There were times when it was simply best not to question.

"Will you see Grell again?" This Rox business and novel pronouns had him flummoxed. "And tell me this time instead of going through my ledger when I'm in the shower?"

"You would have been impossible over it, and you know it. I would like to see zir again, and to keep an eye on the reincarnates." Cordelia stroked his hair. "They were your family, William. I cannot think about what it was to lose all four of them."

"We do not have families as mortals do, Cordelia."

"I know, but they were anyway. I do want the whole story, William."

"It's complicated." And somewhat unflattering, actually.

"William."

Could he get out of this? Not without some damage to tender parts, he thought. Gingerly he lifted the lid he'd settled on the entire mess.

Sighing, William began, "The events of which I shall speak began about the same time time as a concatenation of circumstances involving both your late Aunt Angelina's affiliation with Grell Sutcliff and the peculiar circus of murderers."

In the middle of his explanation, Cordelia began to quietly weep and gently cradled his head as if he were the one afflicted. So very strange. He could not understand it. Or why she would rain kisses on his forehead, and make the same noises to him she had once made to comfort their… her daughter as a very young child. His own cheeks were wet with her tears, of course with her tears, as he gently explained again that Reapers do not have families as mortals do, so how could he mourn the loss of them?

[beesmygod]

Have you ever actually been to a Disney park? Everything about you, or at least that which seems to filter through these posts, doesn't indicate you'd like it very much. A lot of walking, a lot of spending money, a lot of sun. Personally I enjoyed my time at Land but I'm damaged.

when i was a really little kid in the 90s, disney parks were very, very different. i mean, the majority of what is IN the park as attractions hasn't changed much (AND I LIKE IT THAT WAY!!!) but the entire culture and attitude that has sprung up around them has become horrendous. it used to be a yearly trip for the family; nevada gets (got :() the weekend of oct 31st off for nevada day, which meant that all the californians would be in school! heheh suckers!!!

we would pile the whole family into a car (or 2 if the grandparents and aunt came!) and drive the 8 hours from reno to anahiem. we'd stay with my freakishly rich aunt who lives in orange county (horrible person, absolutely insane lifestyle. they were not sprawling mansion rich, they were "peacocks, a donkey and citrus groves" rich), and pay 25 bucks to get in. teachers union members got a bigger discount too. we would grumble about getting nickle and dimed once you were in the park but it felt more like buying snacks at a movie theater and not like someone literally robbing you.

i joke that going to the parks as a child gives everyone a parasite that forces them to return every few years the way that cordyceps compels its host to climb to the tallest point. as a child they were enthralling, as a teen i was mortified and way too mentally ill to enjoy being there, but as an adult i've settled unhappily between the two. the detail and care and meticulous love for a studio that provided a one of a kind story-telling experience expressed through this completely immersive space is unlike anything else on earth. the engineering behind the park, ALL of the engineering, is breathtaking.

unfortunately, they aren't that anymore and i really am leaning on my nostalgia to do the heavy lifting for me (but...not that heavy. i still like it...). modern disney treats their old creations with such disdain that it's a little heartbreaking to know that they aren't even going to end up in an on-site museum (come on disney why isnt this a thing..................) and the artists behind them will fade into obscurity to all but the most diehard fans. the movies they make are indistinguishable from the market competition but with the kind of visual polish money can buy (or not, since they usually fuck their animators over). the total rejection of the 2d artform sucks. the untethered greed sucks. there is nothing about modern disney i like.

well, anyway. there's only one thing i buy at disney parks anyway

ohhh god aaaah look at that font its so 70s and perfect for the tiki aesthetic. im getting good chemicals

[nhkamira]

MY ANIME WATCHLIST FOR WINTER 2021☃️❄️✨

Finally got some time to do this. Winter is here and we got a marvelous season ahead! Here is my watchlist for this season + the ongoing series i’ll be watching. I already watch every episode that came out, but I’ll do a proper first impression in different posts.

Horimiya (堀さんと宮村くん) I can’t believe this one is finally getting an adaption TT. Yes I’m part of the manga readers group, and I’m really really excited! CloverWorks is in charge and so far they have shown an amazing work! just look at that poster. Genres: Slice of Life, Comedy, Romance.

Dr.Stone: Stone Wars (ドクターストーン ) If you haven’t seen season 1, go and do yourself a favor. Been waiting for this so bad, season two is finally here, and hopefully is going to be even better than season 1. As a women of science this story really gets me excited. TMS Entertainment is working again with this series so im expecting the same amazing job. Genres: Sci-Fi, Adventure, Shounen.

Bottom-Tier Character Tomozaki (弱キャラ友崎くん) This one looks interesting in a weird way, i was really excited that this season got more than one romance anime, so im looking forward to this one. Project No.9 is the studio in charge, their anime has never been that iconic or memorable, hopefully this is a different situation. Genres: Drama, Romance, School

Kemono Jihen (怪物事変) Honestly i saw the poster and thought “this probably going to be a really good but underrated one”, the sypnosis catch me right away and im really curious about the mc. the studio working on this is Ajia-Do, they brought us the marvelous Kakushigoto last year so i have high expectations. Genres: Action, Mystery, Demons.

The Seven Deadly Sins: Dragon’s Judgement (七つの大罪 憤怒の審判) I love Nanatsu so bad, i hated the way they animated last season. Studio Deen normally does a great work but damn, las season was awful. I REALLY hope they do the proper work this anime deserves. This arc is so amazing to be ruined like the previous one.

Mushoku Tensei: Jobless Reincarnation (無職転生 ～異世界行ったら本気だす～) As one may say, there isn’t a good season without the typical Isekai story. But this one seems to be like everything good from an average Iskeai. The trailer gave me the thoughts that this probably would be the surprise of the season + the studio working on this one is Studio Bind which is apparently new since i couldn’t find any previous work. Genres: Drama, Fantasy, Magic.

Wonder Egg Priority (ワンダーエッグ・プライオリティ) Oh this one looks so beautiful. CloverWorks did such an amazing work with the design an animation. It looks like a movie. Sypnosis didn’t makes sense and was kind of confusing but I got excited and i can’t wait to see more. Genres: Psychological, Drama, Fantasy.

Re:Zero - Starting Life in Another World Season 2 Part 2 (Re:ゼロから始める異世界生活) Man, I love Subaru so much, Re is amazing everyone should watch it. Its seems this part is really important for Subaru’s development, and it would probably get really fucked up as always. WhiteFox keeps working on this amazing story. I can’t wait to see everything that’s going to happen, because last season was really good but so crazy and hard. Genres: Psychological, Thriller, Drama, Fantasy.

BEASTARS 2期 This series is back and I’m dying of excitement, i really don’t know whats going to happen, and what new challenges Legoshi would have to confront but everything tells me is going to be amazing + Orange is bringing again the best CGI work on an anime ever. If you haven’t watch season 2 go and do it you won’t regret it! Genres: Slice of Life, Psychological, Drama

The Promised Neverland Season (約束のネバーランド) I’m really dying of excitement this season. FINALLY Yakusoku is back and with nothing more that worries and uncertainty for me. My kids are back and out of the farm and I’m really nervous to see whats going to happen next. Genres: Mystery, Fantasy, Psychological, Thriller.

Ongoing series from last season I’ll be continuing watching:

Jujutsu Kaisen Next arc is reallyyyyyy good.

Shingeki no Kyojin My slowly death till the end, manga ending got a date now and I really don’t know how this is going to end.

Digimon Adventure 2020 nostalgic and all time favorite.

Black Clover This arc looks insane and animation looks so good in that latest episodes, please keep it like that TT

One Piece I still need to catch up but always one of the best things to watch.

Higurashi no Naku Koro ni, I’ve always love this series, though i still prefer the old animation, I loved this remake, everything is making more sense now (maybe because I’m older🤣) and explanations feels less confunsing + horror is amazing.