#well there it is! short but sweet.

[chasingstardustandmoonbeams]

Hola linda! I read that your request box is open so I wanted to ask for a little cute thing with my boy Bill Guarnere since there isn't enough fics 'bout him over here. Maybe something with a little bit of jealousy and pure fluff at the end??

Feel free to say no!♥️♥️♥️

“Here, I got another one for you - no. Don’t ask how I got it. Trust me - you don’t wanna know.”

Smiling broadly, you eagerly grabbed the chocolate bar from George Luz.

“Georgie, I-”

“No, no don’t thank me. You do enough for us. It’s the least I could do. ‘Sides, there isn’t nothing I wouldn’t do to get that smile on your face.”

George waggled his eyebrows at you, giving you a parting wink before making his way to the other men.

Glancing down at your hands, you admired the chocolate bar. George was always sweet to you- all the boys were. They made it all bearable, as much as it could be.

Biting your lip, you thought of only one person you’d like to share your treat with. Scanning through the trees, you tried to look for him - Bill. His eyes were already on you, a clear scawl plastered across his face.

He looked to be muttering under his breath. Your eyebrows furrowing you wondered what had gotten to him. Bill had a short fuse, you knew that. Still, you hadn’t seen him this riled up in a while.

You began making your way over to him. You knew the best way was to ease your way into it. Smiling, you plopped down next to him, gently nudging his shoulder with your own.

“Bill?” You called his sweetly. Your eyes looking to him for some sign he was listening. You could feel relax, if only for a second.

He grumbled at you. The action making you laugh.

”What?” He asked, gruffly. But his natural curiosity getting the better of him. He looked at you with a softer expression. “What’s so funny?” He asked once more.

“You,” you replied, simply. “What’s got you so upset?”

“Nuthin’, just-” He stopped gracing at you, before turning to look ahead infinity of him. “You sure you don’t wanna be with somebody else?”

You raised your eyebrows at his question.

He signed. “I just mean, I don’t know what I mean.” He scratched his chin, his eyes darting from you to something in front of him.

“Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“In whatever way you mean, the answer is no. I don’t want to be with anyone else. In fact…”

You gently placed the chocolate bar on his lap. “There’s no else I’d rather be with - or anyone else I’d rather share this with.”

Bill’s eyes glistened for a second, his gaze quickly shifting to the chocolate bar. He took it gingerly in his hands.

“Good,” he said, clearing his throat. He switched the chocolate bar to his other hand. His free hand reaching out to you, holding it securely. His calloused hand providing you with a new found warmth.

“Good,” you whispered back. Both of you smiling, not caring if anyone else noticed.

[lesbiangiratina]

TESTAMENT DOUJINSHI BIRTHDAY BLAST

HI!!!! Im celebrating testament’s birthday by sharing scans of 3 testament-centric doujinshi anthologies: totentanz (2007), gentle grim reaper (2014), and potatoment (2015), as well as a collection of short stories by 1 of the writers as a bonus. Generally sfw, untranslated. Dizzy sol and johnny are also in there sometimes, some others too.

Google drive might not be the neatest way to share this, but its the best ive got right now. Hopefully anyone else out there finds these as extremely charming as i do. :) HAPPY BIRTHDAY TESTAMENT YAY

[caelanglang]

itadakimasu . gochisousamadesu .

[yardsards]

i needed to express a sentiment in the creative stylings of @dunmeshiminimumwage

[vynnyal]

Turns out Sunlit Trail isn't quite done just yet, so after all that they just send you to a dead end 😂

[slyvester101]

Club au where the reds and blues work at a club that Carolina owns and totally doesn’t use as a cover for the undercover work she’s doing in the city with the Freelancers to take her corrupt asshole of a father down.

Church, being Carolina’s sister, hangs around the club basically every night since he gets free drinks and has become the official unofficial manager and recruiter for the place since Carolina and the Freelancers are usually too busy going on missions to take down warehouses or gang members working for her dad, planning missions in the rooms upstairs, or acting as innocent members of society that totally aren’t plotting to kill the Director and tear his illegal operations down.

The first of the reds and blues he hires is Sarge and Lopez, who are the club’s cooks. Sarge haphazardly tosses ingredients into a bowl and it comes out edible somehow? He doesn’t even toss in the necessary ingredients for the food; he put a chicken, a bag of chips, a whole bottle of garlic seasoning and a watermelon into the oven and out comes a beef burger with loaded fries. Lopez is in agony trying to figure out how he does it. But it always ends up good. In fact, it’s so good that it ups the club's foot traffic and creates a much better cover to all the cartel members coming in and out to talk with the Freelancers.

Grif and Simmons come next, Grif being the no nonsense bartender who gets to listen to all the juicy gossip going around the club as well as the annoying drama that gets dragged to his bar. He makes a damn good drink so the bar gets a little crowded when he’s clocked in and he complains endlessly to Simmons.

Simmons is a waiter/occasional assistant cook who can guess a person’s order just by looking at them (something about statistics and body language and a bunch of stuff that Grif calls him a nerd for) as well as know their intent and reason for being there with just a couple words. He weeds out a lot of undercover cops. They both get scolded since they constantly get distracted while flirting talking at the bar.

Tucker was next, a dancer with enough spunk and spite to fill the whole club and moves that leave everyone jaw dropped and star stricken. He loves dancing and loves entertaining the crowd even though he has to deal with a lot of shit (he can split-kick a sucker unconscious if they even think about touching him because unfortunately, people think they have the right to touch you when you show off a little skin and dance in front of a crowd. Sometimes people think they have the right to touch you just because you exist and they’re an asshole). But it pays well and he gets the freetime to spend with his son, who is the main reason he works hard for those extra tips to support him, so it makes up for the less favorable situations.

Caboose and Donut were hired one right after the other; Caboose being a bouncer who knows every patron by name (not always the right one) and can carry three full grown men over his shoulder with a smile on his face; Donut being a DJ/event planner/decorator extraordinaire and is basically just an assistant manager at this point with how much work he does with Church to keep the club up and running, but he refuses to take the title because it doesn’t “fit his vibes”.

All the reds and blues know some kind of illegal shit is going on with their bosses, but they stay willfully ignorant about it and only get involved when they think something will put the club at risk. They all love the club and all the people who work there so they work hard to keep it from being shut down by cops or blown to hell by a rival gang or whoever the fuck their bosses are fighting.

That being said, they’re all rather wary of the Freelancers despite Church’s insistence that they’re not bad people (mostly) and wouldn’t bring any harm to them (probably). Things are civil between the two groups, especially since the Freelancers are the one writing their checks, but there’s this underlying tension and nervousness that no one can seem to break.

The Freelancers are kind of disheartened that Church’s friends aren’t really keen to talk to them more than they have to, especially the dancer who hasn’t said more than a word to any of them and will literally get up and leave in the middle of a conversation to avoid talking to them.

This changes with the addition of Caboose and Donut, the two balls of sunshine giving the club a bit more energy, a lot more color, and a bit more balance.

No one is willing to anger the giant bouncer who can easily lift a table with one hand and the feisty DJ who can get you banned for life with another. There’s a lot less creeps roaming around and the whole club seems to relax at the changes Donut makes to the club and the safety Caboose brings.

Carolina seems to lighten up around Caboose, which in turn makes the reds and blues feel less on edge since she doesn’t look like she’s gonna murder one of them. York and North are finally able to get some more friendly conversation outta Grif and Simmons after Donut gets York and Simmons on a rant about hacking as North and Grif snicker at their geeky counterparts. (“I am not a geek! I am a nerd! There is a difference!” “The fact that you know the difference between a nerd and a geek makes you a geek.”)

Maine, who would sometimes work as a bouncer when not on a mission, finds Caboose rather companionable and likes to stand with him outside and listen to him chat during downtime. South comes by a lot more because Donut has somehow started a passive aggressive off between her, himself, and Tucker (and occasionally Church but he’s more overtly aggressive so he doesn’t really count). It’s a lot more fun than it sounds. Connie likes chatting with Donut and adores the gossip sessions she can get outta him, Grif and Simmons. There is a lot of tea to be shared around the bar.

Everyone agrees to keep Wyoming and Florida from meeting Sarge. That is a war crime waiting to happen.

Wash isn’t at the club often (none of the Freelancers are) and instead drowns himself in work with Carolina, planning and plotting and mapping and debating. He’s a bit more standoffish, a bit more gritty and a lot more like his Recovery One counterpart in canon. He’s cold, he’s calculative, he’s bitter, but he’s also patient and knows they can’t rush their takeover of the Director. It worries the other freelancers, seeing how mean and withdrawn he’s become, especially after knowing him as the upbeat, if nervous and oblivious rookie who did everything he was told with a smile and a lot of puns.

But he’s still convinced to come out for drinks to relax after a particularly stressful mission that went off without a hitch. For as distant as he’s become, he’s still a softy underneath and caves at York and North’s insistence that he needs to let loose a little after spending so much time under duress.

Wash hasn’t looked around the main level of the club since Tucker, Caboose, and Donut have been hired and is rather surprised by how lively and joyful the club has become. Caboose greets him with a smile at the door, happily introducing himself to the “new friend” coming into the club. He calls Wash “Mister Washingtub” and helpfully tells him that it’s performers night, so be nice and respectful to everyone who goes on stage or be kicked to the curb. Wash doesn’t doubt that with how massive the guy is.

When they walk in, he gets an armful of bright pink and a chipper blonde man guiding him and the other Freelancers to a reserved seating area near the front of the stage. York and North laugh at his face as he’s dragged by the hand of this upbeat man.

The whole club has changed since he was last there, much more open and welcoming, the decorations not as drab or outdated and the bar and stage have been renovated into something Wash can only describe as glamorous. Even the patrons and workers have changed, more smiles and jovial laughs echoing over the music, more people dancing on the floor or chatting at the bar. It’s so full of life and excitement that Wash is half convinced he walked into the wrong building.

He reacquaints himself with Simmons, the no longer skittish waiter with clumsy hands. He gets a polite smile from him before he rushes back to the bar to chat with Grif, the much more relaxed and not quite as grumpy bartender.

Wash is still reeling a little by the time the music stops and the man in pink is up on the stage starting up the event of the night. Singer after dancer after comedian go on and on throughout the night, entertaining the crowd and adding to the high spirits of the place.

It all comes to head during the final act, a dancer who has the whole crowd applauding before he’s even on stage.

Lavernius Tucker.

Wash is just as hypnotized as the rest of the crowd as Tucker swings and dips and spins around the pole on the center stage, showing impressive feats of strength as he pulls himself up and flips around with poise and precision. It’s beautiful and artistic and you can tell how much love and work has gone into the man’s routine.

The dance ends with thunderous applause and Wash sits there in awe at this graceful dancer taking bows and tips at the front of the stage.

Maybe he should come to the club more often.

[lenreli]

i smile to you

[AO3]

Title from this song! :D

E, 1.5k. PWP featuring cockwarming. Also a bingo fill!

-

The night starts with Hob going to a concert, grinning brightly and mouthing along as the band, called Jinjer, performed, the lead woman vocalist with an astounding range― 

And like so many times lately, the night ends with Dream and Hob falling into bed together, and Dream’s still amazed at this turn of events, after a century in cold glass, to feel the warmth of Hob’s touch. That Hob brings him to laughter and joy, the sensations almost alien, and Hob smiles and touches him gently, and Dream’s orgasm inside Hob is secondary to the way they’re touching, a rough yet gentle hand in hair as Hob gasps, joining him over the edge. 

Dream has a split moment of sadness, as he moves slowly out of Hob―then a hand on his waist stops him, “no, stay,” Hob says, almost falling asleep as he moves around to bring Dream’s arms around his waist, fingers interlocking with his own. Dream pauses, blinking down at the other man, softening cock still inside as he plasters himself to Hob’s back, feeling Hob slip into the Dreaming. 

“Inside?” He asks, patting the hair on Hob’s belly as he pushes his face into Hob’s shoulder. 

“Mmhmm,” Hob answers, curling inside his arms even more with a pleased sigh and Dream stares at the soft skin in front of him, faint scars littered around the area. In all his many years, has never had this, always going on to the next act, or to his job, and he can’t quite fathom it, that Hob would want him inside in a way, still. And how much he enjoys it, something keeping anchored and warm.

Conjuring up a dark blanket to cover them, he marvels at the feeling, the constant warmth, closing the eyes of his Waking body to join his partner in the Dreaming. 

-

After, he couldn’t help thinking about it. About maybe Hob being inside him, warming him up from the inside as he goes about his duties. Surely it would also be good the other way around? “I know that look,” Hob says and Dream looks away as Hob sits next to him, green sofa of Hob’s flat comfortable as it always is. Hob smiles and leans into his side, fingers coming up to twirl a black lock of his hair, “come on. My work’s done, we can do whatever you want now.” 

Dream looks into Hob’s eyes, affection plain to see, and for all that Dream knows many ways he could phrase it, all the sentences at his disposal, he leans in to kiss him instead, Hob quickly kissing him back, hands on his shoulders as they slowly make their way to Hob’s room. 

“On a mission today, huh,” Hob mutters between biting kisses, Dream’s hands pulling off the other’s clothes in the hallway to Hob’s room. “Mind sharing with me?” Hob asks, a hand coming up to caress his cheek, content to be pushed against the wall as Dream magicks the other’s socks off. 

“No,” he answers, tugging Hob in by his belt-loops so he can bite down the other’s jaw, licking up the stubble of his throat as Hob laughs, the feeling of it under his tongue spurring him on to tug Hob into the bedroom. 

“Not even a little?” Hob asks lightly, brown eyes bright as he sits on the bed, cock hard as Dream stares at him, fingers twitching at the miles of skin and hair ― though, he is on a mission today, so he only gives himself a few indulgent moments before sitting on Hob’s lap, the other’s hands coming up to his waist as his clothes vanish. “A hint?”  

Tilting his head, Dream blinks as he puts a hand on Hob’s chest, gripping the hair ― and Hob’s hasn’t looked away from his face, and Hob makes a choked wheeze when Dream settles in the other’s lap, other hand going to guide Hob’s cock into his cunt, the warmth of it, the length of it making him moan. 

“Dream,” Hob moans, fingers digging into his waist as he moves, Hob whimpering as he leaves him, and Dream shudders as takes Hob back in, the rhythm slow and making them both gasp. “Dream,” Hob croaks desperately, a hand tugging him down by his hair into a kiss, dark eyes on him all the while as he rides Hob. 

“Just like this,” Dream whispers into Hob’s mouth, bliss twisting up slowly, as he claws at Hob’s back, melting into the solid warmth of his body as he noses at Hob’s neck. 

Hob whimpers and clutches him tighter, nails digging in deep enough to make him bleed, not that he cares over the way Hob’s dick fits inside him perfectly, and Hob lets out a particular wail that lets Dream know that he’s close. The cock twitching inside him more and more also tells him as he grinds down hard, skin slapping as Hob keens, coming inside him with a gasp, unintelligible noises coming from his mouth as nails claw up his back. 

Dream hums, melting even more into the other’s hold at the feeling of Hob’s spend inside, fluid leaking out as Dream presses down, his own orgasm slow and dragging as he his cunt squeezes around the softness of Hob, making him cry out. “Fuck,” Hob pants, hands stroking up and down his back, dark eyes staring up at him in worship. “You haven’t,” Hob chokes out, a hand moving around to, two fingers pressing right into his folds, and Dream shudders, pleasure spiking. 

He feels Hob’s cock start to slip out, which he stops by grabbing the other’s hips, keeping it inside as fingers press inside, fluid squelching as Hob crooks his fingers, Hob staring at him with a bitten-red mouth. Hob’s cock tries to slip outside and he grunts, digging claws into Hob’s waist, “stay inside,” he scolds. 

Hob’s throat works, a new spark in his eyes appearing as he grins, “my Dream, wanting me to keep you warm?” He asks softly, stretching up to kiss him gently and Dream whines happily as Hob fingers him to another orgasm, helped along by the filth of Hob’s words, “or is it you keeping me warm, with that lovely velvet cunt of yours?” 

Dream cries out as the orgasm washes over him, hands digging into Hob’s chest, mind only honing in on Hob underneath him, inside him. “Yes,” he breathes, biting at the stubble of Hob’s jaw, delighted with the come and liquids gushing out of him. 

Hob whines, another finger entering him, helping him towards another shuddering orgasm, gasping and whining, “at this rate I’m going to get a personal record for getting hard again,” Hob says, voice strangled and Dream smirks, nibbling at Hob’s ear as he grinds into the digits. “How long do you want to stay like this, then?” 

Sighing, he strokes the back of Hob’s head, other hand still on the hair of Hob’s chest as he considers, “forever.” 

Hob lets out a breath, almost a chuckle as fingers slip out of him, Hob’s cock slowly twitching back to hardness, filling him up deliciously, “sure. We can do that.” 

-

“If I would’ve known centuries ago to keep you around was this, I would’ve tried even harder to get you into bed then,” Hob muses, fingers stroking his cheek as Dream hums, Hob’s soft dick nestled inside his arse, back pressed into the warm textures of Hob’s front as a hand plays with his hair, fingers softly trailing down his neck. 

Dream’s thoughts are slow, hours of like this pulling a veiled haze over him, the only sensation of Hob quieting his mind. “Aren’t you meant to be working?” Blinking, his face presses into Hob’s shoulder as he looks at the laptop, which has now been turned off. 

“Got all the work done I could today, especially considering the lovely distraction I have right here,” the smile is obvious in Hob’s voice, fingers tugging his hair slightly until he gasps, eyes fluttering shut as Hob begins to get hard.

Dream preens as Hob’s other hand trails down his torso, pleasure slow and languid as it builds up, as he grasps at Hob’s hair. “It quiets me,” he confesses quietly as fingers stroke the inside of his thighs, avoiding his own arousal. “And there is no Matthew to show up with something, so everything must be,” Dream gasps, heaving as fingers circle his cock and balls, teeth nipping at his bared throat. 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I’ll try not to let it get to my head,” Dream glances up and presses into the stubble of Hob’s grin, “too much.” 

“I fear it is too late for that already, Hob Gadling,” he intones breathily, and Hob laughs and strokes him softly, slick pre-come coating his fingers as they quickly drive him towards orgasm.

“You may be right,” Hob says severely, matching his own tone as Dream stutters and twitches, arching into Hob’s cock, sparks flaring behind his eyes as it drags against his prostate. “So beautiful,” Hob breathes, biting behind his ear and sucking marks on his neck as he whines, come coating his front and Hob’s hand. 

Dream shivers, luxuriating as a tongue licks up his neck, the cock inside only rocking lightly, Hob more focused on marking up his neck, a hand scratching up his stomach to flick his nipples, the edge of overstimulation close with his orgasm, but selfishly keeps Hob close. 

[Fin] 

[doodleodds]

Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.

If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.

I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.

I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.

Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.

[v3lnys]

Slow Mornings

Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri — 2.5k — Explicit/Smut — Mutual Masturbation

A soft hand caressed his jaw; sensing his nervousness, Lando guided him closer for a kiss. “Y'know I'd eat you out every morning for the rest of my life if you asked, right?” Lando spoke quietly against his lips, like it was a secret, only meant for Oscar, who could hear the smirk in his voice, could feel himself becoming even more red at the bold admission. Oscar mumbled something like ‘jeez, mate’ under his breath.

AKA, Oscar is a little shy about waking up hard, but Lando has no shame

[artingstarvist]

Chapter 14 / 18 "Interlude II: Lang Qianqiu

Mini Chapter No. 2. Lets take a break and see what LQQ has been up to lately. 🙃

[smile-files]

the alliance........ from left to right: baseball, suitcase, nickel, and balloon!

(i was trying to find a way to represent balloon's name and i came upon a lucky medium: given how he was a jerk in ii1 and nickel continued to see him as such, i imagine he'd just call him "bully" from then on, even after they became friends -- and it sounds like the word "balloon", no?)

[introvertedpedant]

Stephen Dillane as Prometheus in Episode 7 of Kaos (2024)

[whatwooshkai]

2?

(important context in tags)

Dani sucks in a breath, and prepares for the worst. "There's no way you're fitting in that."

Blades gives her a blank look, the dress halfway up his thighs. "Huh?"

Even if there weren't love handles spilling over the waistband of his boxers, there's no way in hell Blades is fitting into anything Dani owns. He's taller than her, his shoulders are broader, and he's far more filled out. "You're not fitting in that."

"Why?" Blades asks, seemingly genuinely curious.

Because you're fat, is on the tip of Dani's tongue, but she holds it. Blades isn't even human on most days, she shouldn't subject him to human problems like body image issues. "We're not the same size," she settles on, tapping a beat on her arm. "You're bigger than me. And I'd rather you not rip that dress."

Blades' frown gets deeper, but he shimmies out of the dress and pulls back on the old tshirt and jeans from her dad, the only clothes they had that would fit him. "I could get smaller?" he offers.

Dani shakes her head. "No, you can't," she tells him. "You're not... y'know."

"Right," Blades mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. Dani can see the outline of his stomach through the shirt. How can he not be insecure about that? "But I don't like these clothes, I like your clothes. Your dad has no sense of style."

Dani cracks a smile at that. "No, he doesn't. But, uh..." she shifts, staring at the dress crumpled on the floor. Maybe she should've let him stretch out that dress. She always looks a little off in it... "I could take you shopping," she offers, and Blades absolutely lights up.

"Really?" he says, grabbing her hands. "Can we go to the mall? Oh, I've always wanted to do that-" he cuts himself off suddenly, eyes growing wide. "Oh my Primus. You have to buy me a pretzel."

Dani bites the comment on her tongue and forces herself to match his energy. "Of course!" she promises, squeezing his hands back. "You should enjoy your time as human!"

Blades' grin lights up the whole room.

Dani sighs when he turns away, babbling about all his plans and gathering up the clothes scattered on the floor to get an idea of what he wants. He's so excited, Dani wishes she could genuinely match that energy.

Maybe I could stand to learn a thing or two from him.

[mayasaura]

Kiriona Gaia/Her Divine Highness AU where Gideon escapes from the Ninth to join the Cohort, and gets claimed by John only a year or two before canon.

The lyctor trials happen approximately on schedule, but this time it's a combo event! Who Wants To Be A Lyctor, and The Bachelor Nine Houses: a chance to win the hand of Her Divine Highness Kiriona Gaia, only daughter of the Emperor Undying!

There are two main reasons for The Bachelor competition, one Gideon knows about and the other she doesn't:

One: She's a plant to manipulate the lyctor trials. John's a bit more invested this time around, after the whole baby plot reveal left him bereft and short-handed. He wants Gideon to get to know all of the candidates and report back to him.

Two: John thought it would be funny and is trying (and badly failing) to wingman for his socially awkward daughter.

Gideon is John's plant in the lyctor competition, but the marriage contest is a setup for Gideon. Here you go, kid, your very own fantasy romcom scenario, now will you finally make a move on that girl you're physically incapable of shutting up about?

[autisticlancemcclain]

Keith doesn’t leave his apartment a lot.

Despite all of Shiro’s urging, Keith tends to stay home. His apartment is really nice, once he gets over the occasional mouse and entirely broken heating. Plus, the water is mostly potable, so it’s all good.

Look. It’s $500 a month.

But, y’know. Every once in a while Keith actually can’t study over the sounds of his neighbours having extremely loud and largely disturbing sex — why on Earth would cheetos ever be mentioned in regards to anyone’s hole is something Keith wish remained a mystery to him — so he makes his way down to the campus library. It’s admittedly kind of nice down there. He’s currently sitting at a table that’s decently clean, and the wifi connection is certainly better than it is at home. He’s actually able to get some stuff done —

“Motherfucker!”

Keith jumps out of his skin as the hottie a couple seats in front of him slams his hands on the table. Hottie whips his head up, catching Keith’s eye. His hair is wildly curly, sticking up off his head so intensely that it almost defies gravity. His eyes are big and brown and a little crazed. His expression can only be described as ‘intense’, or perhaps ‘unstable’.

“You,” he snarls.

Keith points at himself with wide eyes.

“Have you ever heard of a mountain chicken,” Hottie says, still staring at Keith with the same crazed intensity.

“Please don’t hurt me,” Keith squeaks. Hottie may be one of the most attractive people he has ever seen, but Keith has learned his lesson about pretty people. They tend to be the most dangerous and likely to maim (looking at you, Allura).

Hottie stalks towards Keith’s table, deliberately placing his hands on the surface and leaning very, very close.

“Have you ever heard,” he says again, voice very low, “of a mountain chicken.”

“No,” Keith says, because he hasn’t and he’s a little (a lot) intimidated.

And attracted.

There’s admittedly a lot of attraction there.

Suddenly the crazed air shifts from Hottie’s face, but the intensity remains.

“Whaddaya think it looks like?”

He sounds almost curious. Almost.

Keith blinks. “Like a really big chicken?”

The crazed looks is back as soon as it left.

“That’s what I thought, but it’s this mother fucker!” Hottie yells, reaching over to grab his laptop and slam it in front of Keith. It’s open to a picture of a strange little frog.

Keith squints at the picture.

“…Huh,” he says, because that is strange, and he can kind of understand why Hottie is going a little nutty about it.

“Exactly,” Hottie says emphatically. “Fuckin’ taxonomists.”

Keith raises an amused eyebrow. “You sound like you have beef with taxonomists. I’ve never known anyone who has a personally problem with them before.”

“Okay, listen,” Hottie says, pulling out a chair and sitting down properly. “They’re really bad at their jobs. All of ‘em. Why are watermelons berries? No. That’s bullshit. And you know who’s fault it is? Taxonomists.”

Keith bursts out laughing. “I see,” he manages between wheezes.

Hottie sniffs. “I’m allowing your laughter because you’re stupid hot.”

“Are you.”

“Mhm. Also, because I couldn’t stop you if I wanted to. I’m about three seconds away from passing out.”

Hottie says it pleasantly, but not in the way that sounds like he’s joking, which sobers Keith up quickly.

“Wait, what —”

The words don’t even leave his mouth before Hottie’s eyes roll back into his head and his forehead smacks the table.

———

“Thank you, again,” the man says.

Keith shoots him a small smile. “It’s really not a problem.”

The man — who Keith has learnt is named Hunk, and is the best friend of the aforementioned Hottie, who’s name is apparently Lance — sighs. “It kind of is. He’s — I would like to say that this is not a regular occurrence. But he’s fuckin’ allergic to a proper sleep schedule. And peanuts. But the sleeping thing is a bigger issue. He’s given himself four concussions because he’s passed out mid-sentence and brained himself on a random surface hard enough to make an impact on his thick fucking skull.”

Hunk is clearly exasperated, and annoyed, but his words are so fond that Keith can’t help the smile that pulls across his face. He sounds just like Shiro, after Keith has managed to land himself squarely into one of his many Shenanigans. Loving and also five seconds away from throttling you.

It’s nice.

“You his brother?”

Hunk snorts, readjusting Lance’s floppy arm over his shoulder. Keith does the same, hefting him up — he’s surprisingly heavy for someone who’s about as thick as a toothbrush, but what does Keith know — and keeping on in the direction of the off-campus apartments. (The decently nice ones, that you can only afford with at least two roommates and a part-time job. Keith knows. He checked.)

“Nah, not really. I mean, I’m basically his brother in that he’s the annoyance who’s been latched on to my person for the last several years and who I love too much to murder, but you know. He has enough siblings without me thrown into the mix. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” Keith says. “You remind me of me and my brother, is all. He’s also the one who’s usually dragging my dumb ass to safety.”

Laughing, Hunk digs his key out of his pocket, opening up the door.

“I see.”

He struggles for a moment, trying to both keep Lance from falling — who is firmly unconscious, although Hunk has assured him that he’s not injured and it’s just been six days since he last slept and he’s just kind of Like This — and get the door open.

Keith isn’t sure how to help, so he just kind of stands there awkwardly, still holding half of Lance’s weight.

“Thank you,” Hunk says, once Lance has been transferred to his arms and he’s standing just inside the doors to their apartment complex. “I appreciate your help.”

“No problem.”

Keith forces himself to take a step back, shoving the random wistfulness deep down in his gut.

He’s not lonely. He’s not.

(He does kind of miss his brother, though. Ugh.)

“I’ll see you around, Keith.”

“Yeah. You, too.”

Keith stands there for a full ten seconds after Hunk turns around and heads down the hallway, and then he shakes himself, blushing, before speedwalking back to his own shitty apartment.

God, he needs a fucking hobby.

———

“What do you mean, I can’t get eight shots of espresso? It’s not like it’ll kill me. You need 76 shots to kill you. I checked.”

“Sir…it’s company policy. I’m not allowed to put more than eight shots in one cup. Sorry.”

“No, no, don’t apologise. It’s not your fault. Hm.” The man — who is he kidding, Keith recognised Lance as soon as he saw that poofy hair in the Starbucks line, as embarrassing as it is — rocks back on his heels, tapping a finger to his chin. “Can I order two drinks, with eight shots each?”

Jesus Christ.

The barista blinks at him. “I mean, I guess so. I think you’re going to die, but that’s not my problem, I guess.”

Lance laughs, and the sound is so bright and musical that it actually makes Keith sigh.

Like, out loud.

Jesus fucking Christ.

“That works! Let’s do that.”

“…If you’re sure. That’ll be $7.29.”

Lance pays, then heads over to the other end of the counter, humming as he waits. As soon as his eyes land on Keith, they narrow.

“Hey, wait a minute. I know you. Obviously. I would never forget a face so flawlessly beautiful. Why do I know you?”

Keith goes so red he can actually feel his heart pounding through the capillaries under his skin, which is humiliating.

“Um.”

Lance giggles, which makes the blush worse.

Oh, God, Keith is losing any and all game he possesses by the minute. Fuck, isn’t he usually good at this? He usually is! He’s usually a pretty decent flirt! What the fuck!

“Oh!” Lance says, snapping his fingers. “You’re the hot guy from the library! The one who called Hunk when I passed out! Keith, right?”

Keith can only nod. Holy shit, the force of those brown doe eyes at full intensity on his face is going to fry his brain.

He clears his throat. “Uh, yeah. I’m Keith. You — obviously, you knew that.” Keith resists the urge to slam his head through the nearest wall.

Lance giggles again. Keith wonders if the fuckin’ sweat is actually dripping from his palms, or it just feels like it is.

Gross.

“You’re cute. You should take me on a date. I have class until five, room A112 in the biology building. Pick me up, and we’ll go to dinner?”

Keith can only nod. Frantically. So quickly his hair escapes from his ponytail and smacks him in the face.

“Great,” Lance says, grinning. He grabs Keith hand — Keith offers absolutely no resistance and only prays that his palms aren’t actually as disgusting as he thinks they are — and takes out a pen, scrawling down a number and then drawing a big heart around it.

Lord above, Lance is the cutest boy Keith has ever seen in his entire life. He’s going to explode.

“That’s my number,” Lance says, and he’s still holding onto Keith’s forearm.

His fingers are freezing, and that’s the only rational thought Keith’s brain manages to form.

“2 coffees with more caffeine than I’ve ever seen one person consume?” the barista calls. She looks at them warily.

“Coming!” Lance chirps, and Keith mourns the loss of those cold fingers on his skin as Lance steps over to grab his coffee.

(Well. ‘Coffee’.)

Lance skips to the doors, pausing to smile and wiggle his fingers in a wave. “I’ll see you after class, okay, Keith?”

“See you,” Keith says, and his voice cracks so many times that the barista winces on his behalf.

Lance grins wider, then disappears out the door.

“That was the most romcom shit I’ve ever seen,” the barista informs him bluntly, and Keith can only nod.

———

Keith is buzzing out of his skin, he thinks.

So he does what he always does when he’s feeling Big Boy Feelings™️.

He bothers his brother.

to: takashit

shiro oh my god it’s almost five his class is almost done what do i do.

to: takashit

what if he was joking? it didn’t seem like a joke. but what if?

to: takashit

fuck, what if i screw it up? what if i’m a lame loser who says lame loser things? oh my god i’m so nervous

to: takashit

OH MY GOD SHIRO WHAT IF I YARF

to: keith kardashian

KEITH MOTHERFUCKING YORAK KOGANE. SHUT THE FUCK UP. I AM BUSY.

to: takashit

🥺🥺🥺 worst brother ever

to: takashit

🥺🥺 you don’t love me. you don’t care about me or my anxiety 💔

Keith can actually hear his brother’s guilt complex acting up through the phone.

It’s hilarious.

to: keith kardashian

the worst part about that is i know you’re manipulating me.

to: takashit

😔 😔

to: takashit

⬆️ my face rn as i realise my brother whom i look up to and adore wishes he left me on the street corner where i was standing 😔😔😔

to: keith kardashian

i should have, you little motherfucker.

There’s a solid minute of angry typing before Shiro continues.

to: keith kardashian

fuck you. call me.

Keith does. Shiro picks up immediately.

“You are a rat bastard,” he growls.

Keith pretends to sniffle, fully fighting back a laugh.

“I just thought you promised to always be there for me,” he says, as pitifully as he can manage.

Shiro makes a vague screaming noise.

“Fuck! Fine. Fuck. Tell me why you’re nervous.”

“It’s a cute boy with a lot of confidence and social grace, Shiro! Fucking obviously I’m nervous!”

“Didn’t y’all meet because he yelled at you about taxonomists and then brained himself on a library table when he passed out from sleep deprivation?”

“…Yeah.”

“That doesn’t sound very socially graceful to me.”

“Okay, fair, but he asked me out this morning like it was the smoothest thing ever. I blushed so hard I thought my heart was going to explode. I swear to God my voice cracked at least twelve times.”

Shiro sniggers. “It does that all the time, so no big thing there.”

“Fuck off,” Keith says, scowling, because hey. Being the shithead is Keith’s job.

“Anyway, you big nerd,” Shiro continues, “you’re going to be fine. In five minutes this ridiculously confident cute boy is going to waltz out of class and then you two are going to go on what’s probably the cringiest date of all time, but he will be charmed by your earnest nature and geek tendencies, and then you’ll get married and adopt every dog in the world. Okay?”

Honestly, yeah. Okay. That did make him feel better.

But Keith is the younger brother, and as such is contractually obligated to be a pain in the ass, so.

“Yeah, yeah. At least I didn’t trip and, in a desperate attempt to not land face-first on the pavement, pants my future husband.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Shiro says venomously, as is par for the course when Keith brings up his and Adam’s disastrous first meeting.

Keith smirks to himself.

“My bad.”

“Ugh. You’re so annoying. Do you feel better now, you stupid dweeb?”

Keith started feeling better the second he started pestering Shiro, but he supposes he can be grateful for a change.

“Yeah. I guess your dorky pep talk helped. I can’t do any worse than you did, anyway.”

“I’m hanging up and blocking your number. Goodbye.”

Keith snickers as the call drops. It’s 4:59, and Lance still has another minute of class.

to: takashit

you didn’t say u love me :(((

to: takashit

u just hung up without any care in the world :((

to: takashit

i’m telling adam he’s my new favourite brother now

to: takashit

adam would never hang up without saying i love you

to: keith kardashian

oh my GOD

to: takashit

:(((((((((

to: keith kardashian

fine. fuck.

to: keith kardashian

i love you, you booger. tell me how your stupid date goes.

to: takashit

:D

Keith puts his phone away, grinning, and the second he does, the door to room A112 pushes open and students start spilling out. He waits, scanning everyone as they pass, but there’s no sign of Lance until the very last person walks out.

He beams when he sees Keith leaning on the wall.

“Keith! Hi!”

Keith grins back.

“Hi, Lance.”

“Ready to go on a date?” Lance says, strolling up and tangling his free hand in Keith’s, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

It might be.

“Yeah. I’m excited, really.”

“Awesome! Did you pick a place?”

Keith was a little stressed about that, to be real, because he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to pick somewhere or if Lance already had something picked.

The he remembered he had Hunk’s number “in case my dumbass best friend passed out in your vicinity again, because neither of us can afford an ambulance in this economy”, so he texted him in what could not be technically called a panic.

Maybe a light anxiety.

Hunk had sent back several laughing emojis, and then told him to take Lance for an ice cream dinner and then to the park on campus for him to get very excited about beetles.

“I figured I’d take you to Coran’s ice cream parlour,” Keith says. “You seem like an ice cream guy.”

Lance lights up, and then narrows his eyes in playful suspicion. “You asked Hunk, huh?”

Keith shrugs, cheeks warming. “I’ll be honest with you. I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the library incident, and you’re so pretty you kind of make my brain go mushy. I panicked.”

Shockingly, that makes Lance’s jaw drop. He’s quiet for several moments, before his ears go read and he looks away.

Holy shit. Did Keith make Lance all blushy?

“Point to Keith,” Lance says eventually.

Keith laughs, scratching the back of his neck with one hand. The other is still firmly clamped in Lance’s. “Didn’t know it was a competition.”

Lance winks. “Everything’s a competition with me.”

———

Ice cream is fun. Keith shouldn’t be eating it, not really, and there will be Consequences with his digestive system later, but he’s not afraid of hell and mint chip is delicious.

“You are eating frozen toothpaste.”

“I can only assume that you’ve never tried mint chip or you’ve never brushed your teeth, Lance, because mint chip does not taste like toothpaste. It’s delicious. Besides, you are having cotton candy. That’s essentially frozen blue food colouring! Besides, what flavour is cotton candy even supposed to be? Like, what does cotton candy taste like?”

Turns out that Keith had no reason to be nervous. He and Lance just… click. And, besides, Lance thinks Keith is funny when he’s not trying, which is excellent.

They go to the park, just as Hunk suggested, after they finish their ice cream. They spend the whole time just chatting, talking about nothing and everything, interspersed with Lance’s regular mini-lectures whenever he spots something particularly cool. Which is a lot of things, because Lance seems to be endlessly fascinated with the world at large.

It’s adorable. And also enlightening. Did you know one tree can be home to over 2.3 million life forms at one time? Keith didn’t. That’s dope as hell.

“…and oh, hey, an incipient hornet nest! Cool! Did you know wasp larvae can spin silk?”

Keith did not know that. He is also not fond of wasps, nor has he ever felt any sort of inclination to be near them. But he is becoming increasingly fond of Lance. Also, Lance seems to be some sort of animal whisperer. They’d been swarmed by yellowjackets outside of the ice cream parlour, but before Keith could even panic Lance had stood very still and said “no” in a firm, calm voice, and they all flew away immediately.

It did make Lance hotter, truly.

“I did not,” Keith says magnanimously, peering over Lance’s shoulder to look at the nest. Luckily, it’s empty. “That is pretty cool, though.”

Lance turns back to him and grins; a big, beaming smile that makes him glow.

God, he’s beautiful.

Keith can’t stop staring at him.

“You should kiss me,” Lance says bluntly, after a moment of them just softly looking at each other.

Keith blinks. “Okay.”

He lets go of Lance’s hand, reaching over to cup his face. He stays there for a moment, gently cradling Lance’s face in his arms, stroking his thumbs over sharp cheekbones, cataloguing the splash of freckles on his nose and the curve of his cupid’s bow.

Lance reaches up, after a few seconds, sliding careful fingers across the skin of Keith’s neck to tangle in his hair. He doesn’t pull, just — holds it, carefully.

“You going to kiss me now?”

Keith swallows. “I’m nervous. I don’t want to mess it up.”

Lance’s eyes flutter shut, and he sighs. “You don’t need to be. I want — I really want you to kiss me. I like you.”

“I like you too.”

“Okay.”

And that’s all it takes. The ‘okay’, breathy and quick and soft and maybe a little nervous, too, like for all his straightforward brazenness Lance is a little scared of messing this up as well.

He leans forward, faster than he thought he would, and presses his lips to Lance’s. The air is warm but Lance’s lips are still chilly from the ice cream, and his cheeks are hot beneath Keith’s hands, blushing. His lips curve into a smile that’s pressed firmly to Keith’s mirroring grin and he sighs again, a little, a happy sound, and tilts his head so their mouths fit together even better. And then his fingers are tracing little circles at the back of Keith’s neck and he makes a little humming noise on the back of his throat and Keith leans the tiniest little bit closer.

It’s good. It’s great.

It’s everything, really, and Keith doesn’t want it to end.

“You’re a good kisser,” Lance mumbles, not moving away even an inch.

“I like kissing you,” Keith says, pressing just as close.

Keith doesn’t remember why he was nervous.

———

to: keith kardashian

how did it go????

to: takashit

i beat your mess by a mile

to: keith kardashian

low bar, boogerbrain. also, shut up.

to: takashit

no :)

to: takashit

but it went REALLY well. we went for ice cream and then walked around the park for hours and then we kissed and he is so fucking cute, shiro. oh my god. seriously.

to: keith kardashian

good, kiddo. really. are y’all gonna go out again?

to: takashit

yeah

to: takashit

tomorrow night actually

to: keith kardashian

that’s awesome! i have a really good feeling about you guys.

to: takashit

…

to: takashit

me too :)

[vic-does-battlecats]

Walk with me every stage of my life

Happy late Mother’s Day to Lilyheart