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PRRRROMOTIONS of a Queer Sort

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File: 127975542047.jpg-(264.97KB, 900x675, Epic_Coordination_Skills_by_taintedsilence.jpg)
50912 No.50912
Dead Threads: >>49265 >>47743 >>46639 >>45916 >>45069 >>44414 >>43727 >>42807 >>41900 >>41426 >>40879 >>40156 >>39172 >>38480 >>37910 >>36992 >>35898 >>35079 >>34623 >>34098 >>33328 >>32818 >>32233 >>31704 >>31068 >>30578

Tessa's DA: http://vert-is-ninja.deviantart.com/
Character Q&A: http://vert-is-ninja.deviantart.com/journal/29933235/
LJ Comm: http://community.livejournal.com/hinabn/
Kink Meme: http://sugar-magic.livejournal.com/1903.html
Current PChat: http://yeahdear.com/paintchat2/

How to IRC like a Hannafag:
1. go to http://chat.mibbit.com/?channel=%23hinabn&server=irc.ponyirc.net
2. namefag
3. ???
4. PROFIT

Bee tee dubs, Sometimes the server likes to shit the bed. Just so you know.

New rule: No FUCKING wank. Just porn. Every one knows the spoiler now. Nobody cares, shut up, and post more porn.

Newer Rule: ONLY once we reach the third page should you make a new thread. Even then, wait a little bit, discuss it. Don't just make one.

200 posts omitted. Last shown. Expand all images
No.52105
>>52097

oh my god. can i have the video link? i'm am intrigued

No.52106
>>52105

I am* stupid typos...

No.52110
>>52097

OUR COCKSLUT!HANNA THEORIES ARE TRUE

No.52132
Oh God, I can't keep track of all the AUs and RPs going on. ): I know about a couple livejournal RPs and a few AUs on deviantart, but I haven't a clue about most of them. Is anyone willing to point me in the correct direction? :< I love reading all the rp/au content; it's all pretty bad ass. I'm just sad I don't know about more of it, lol.

No.52133
>>52132

Not quite sure how you'd find all of them, but ongoing AUs include:
Dead of Night (available on ygal and fanfiction.net)
the Punk AU (available all over the place, depending on who writes it)
young!ConWorth (available all over the place, depending who writes it)
Book/coffee shop AU (DA only, I think)

Finished or smaller AUs:
the Steampunk AU (DA only, I think)
genderbend AUs (scattered, I've only seen one or two bits)
highschool!ConWorth with vampire Connie (DA only, I think, just the one fic, but author suggests more later)

And I don't know if you'd call single-character stories or little snippets of individual character history AUs since they sometimes seem to exist outside of the known timeline...

When it doubt, though, go for DA and Y!gal, and most stuff seems to be there if you have the patience to find it.

No.52139
>>52132 ...I get the same feeling a lot of the time, too. Part of the reason is that fandom actively posts to four(+?) sites but each person does not necessarily contribute to all of them.

I was actually thinking of compiling a sort of rec/fandom essentials list soon, if only because I have a lot of friends who want to join hinabn but don't really know where to start fandom-wise. Also--so help me--every fandom needs a damn rec list somewhere it also needs a wiki page, but that for later Would anyone be interested in seeing this and/or would be willing to offer suggestions? I would format it all, read each of the recs and talk about why they are awesome, but there's always that fic you missed once upon a time...

No.52140
>>52133

Woah, thank you so much! :D <3

No.52141
>>52139

Ohhhh my god that would be amazing. When it's not four o'clock in the morning, I'd love to assist in any way possible, be it link gathering or w/e :3

No.52143
>>52139
According to the main HiNaBN LJ community, there's a Wikipedia page in the works, which got me excited because at this point (with a fanbase this big and crazy) the comic really needs one. I'd offer to help with that but I know absolutely nothing about how wikis work.

I would LOVE to see a big list of fic recs. It could have groupings of art/fics that go with certain AUs, or be organized by pairing...basically any kind of conglomeration/organization of good fanstuff would be super welcome. If you need a hand or a second opinion, shoot me an email!

No.52149
>>52139

Rec list needs anything ever by Spook and Caco, no questions asked. Dynamic duo FTW.

No.52151
>>52139 (Dear god, I'm never getting anything done ever again.)

REC LIST INFO: http://community.livejournal.com/hinabn/101984.html

No.52165
God, I feel like a creep. Anyone know how to politely get in touch with Kaijifag? I've been catching up on the older Hanna threads and Kaijifag mentioned sending an e-mail to her to get the Conrad/Worth comic that Tessa once had available. I'd be willing to work out a trade or exchange for the comic :D Not to sound like a whore, rather, I'm just willing to return a favor.

I'll link my e-mail if this is replied to with an answer.

No.52183
>>52165
You can talk to me, too! I was away for a while, so I couldn't reply to the last few who asked, but I have a bunch of old incentives (including the mini-comics) that I share with people. Contact me on dA under the same name and we'll talk. (Not trying to undercut Kaiji here, just wanted to help.)

No.52188
On a completely unrelated topic, I'm writing an AU and would it be ok if I posted it here? (self sage for no content)

No.52189
>>52183

Should I note you or would you prefer the usual front page comment? Thank you so much, this makes me ridiculously happy!

No.52192
>>52188

Ducky I love your stuff, please post!

No.52198
>>52189
Oh, just note me. It's easier.

No.52201
Sequel-ish to "Rot" (http://duckyqueen.deviantart.com/gallery/#/d2q9ccc). Basically "What if Hanna was more fucked up than we thought". Sorry for spacing issues D:

He wakes up in the dark. Just, floating. He tries to sit up and cracks his forehead on something solid. A low ceiling? A crawlspace? It suddenly occurs to him that he isn't breathing, and, panicking, he tries to
suck in air. Nothing except a horrible wheeze that comes from deep in his chest. He tries again before
realizing that <i>there is no air</i>. Wherever he may be, he is lying down, in the pitch dark with no air. And it hits him that his heart isn't pounding with anxiety. It isn't beating at all. He screams, the sound
filling the space and reverbarating. He kicks his feet and scrabbles his hands on the wood above it, desperate.
He isn't sure how long it takes him to claw through the wood. There is no night or day and
he can't seem to sleep. Or hunger, or breathe. That's what gets to him most of all. As he scrabbles at
the wood, he thinks about how the splinters that have begun to lodge themselves in his fingertips aren't
hurting the way they should be. He feels ill.
His fingers finally touch cool, moist earth and he begins pushing his way through it. His mouth and nose fills with dirt and he is reminded of swimming. He pushes away dirt and his fingers brush worms and bugs and rocks and then, finally, his fingers, hand and then forearm reach the air. He feels around blindly, his hand finding purchase on what feels like solid rock. He pulls upwards, his head breaks through the dirt.
It is twilight. In the fast fading light, he pulls himself out of the hole and leans heavily against the rock that he used to pull himself up. He examines his hands. The flesh looks off- greenish, maybe- and he begins to pull the splinters from his fingers. There is no blood and the only pain is a dull, slight throb. Nothing horribly unpleasent. He stands up and finds himself fully dressed in a smart, black suit. He turns and looks at the rock- the tombstone. It mearly says "Beloved" and he suddenly realizes that he can't recall his name. Family, profession, what the fuck he was doing six feet under- nothing. He turns around, gazing at the vast expanse of almost identical tombstones.
He is dead.
And suddenly, a name is pounding at his brain. <i>HannaFalkCrossHannaFalkCross</i>. He has to steady himself for a moment.
He needs to find HannaFalkCross and he needs to find him <i>now</i>.

~

He manages to find his way out of the cemetery, which involves avoiding guards and climbing over a wall. He walks, stiffly, through the dark, quiet streets. He occasionally groans, trying to
make his vocal chords work properly and he almost laughs at the absurdity of his situation. His knees finally loosen up enough to walk normally, and he stops groaning after an older man, walking his dog,
stares at him strangely. He spots a twenty-four hour diner and wanders in, spotting a payphone near the
back. A grimy, beat up telephone book swings on a chord under the phone and he walks to the back.
Picking up the book, a lone white business card stuck in a crevice of the phone catches his eye. He plucks it from its space and examines it. It says Hanna Falk Cross. And underneath, it says "Paranormal Investigator". There is an email and an address.
Well, alright then.

No.52203
>>52201
PART DOS (forgot to mention that it will be .../Hanna and undertones of ConWorth and VesPles)

When he finds Hanna Falk Cross, it isn't what he was imagining. Or he isn't sure <i>what</i> he was imagining when he pictured Hanna Falk Cross.
Hanna is small, thin and pale. A shock of red curls covers his head and plastic framed glasses are perched on the boy's nose. There is a wary look in Hanna's eyes as he looks his visitor up and down. "Yes?" he askes, suspiciously. The dead man swallows.
"Are you Hanna Falk Cross?" he can't help but notice that Hanna shuts the door slightly at the question.
"And if I am?" Hanna says, eyes narrowed.
"I found your card. I um, think I should talk to you," he says, showing Hanna the card that he found in the diner. "As you can see, I'm a little, um, dead." Hanna regards him silently for a moment before shutting the door. The dead man hears the scrape of the chain being pulled off the door and the door to the apartment is opened wider. He steps inside the harshly lit room. He glances around, taking in the piles of clothes and the odd marks scribbled on sheets of paper which are tacked to the walls, some marks even written <i>on</i> the wall. He turns as Hanna shuts the door and spots a large marking jaggedly carved in the door and he gets a sudden flash of <i>something</i>. Hanna gestures for him to step further into the apartment and he does so.
"How can I help you, mr...?" Hanna says, his voice cool, though the zombie can hear a hint of fear in the man's voice.
"I, um, don't have a name," he says, examining the tiny window. "I forgot it. I think." He turns back to Hanna. The redhead nods.
"If you're looking for ressurection, I'm really sorry, I'm not the right guy for that-" Hanna says, a sad look on his.
"I'm not... looking to be alive again," he interrupts. "I'm just really confused. When I, um, woke up... in my grave, the only name I could remember was yours. I'm not sure why. I can't remember ever knowing you or anything." Hanna just nods and looks miserable.
"Are you here, to um, <i>hurt</i> me?" Hanna says, his voice small and the dead's man head is suddenly <i>throbbing</i>.
"No, no," he says hurridley. "It's going to sound odd, but I think I am supposed to <i>help</i> you." Hanna tilts his head. "If that's okay."
"Um," Hanna is smiling. "Sure, that sounds... really great, actually." And the dead man finds his lips twitching in what might be a smile. "But what should I call you?" the dead man just shrugs.
"It doesn't matter to me," he says. And it really doesn't.
~
Nights and days pass in the small apartment. The two men grow used to each other, even friendly. Hanna treats the zombie, who's names changes daily (sometimes even hourly), with mild suspicion at first. He darts around the dead gentleman for the first few days, barely speaking to him. The zombie tries not to take it personally. Hanna is probably uncomfortable around strangers. He simply makes himself scarce.
One evening, he walks into the apartment and finds a neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter with a note from Hanna.
<i>I picked these up from the Goodwill for you. I think they'll fit. If you want, I can wash your suit.</i>
The dead man smiles and changes into the new set of clothes. They fit wonderfully and instead of leaving the clothing, he takes Hanna's laundry bag to the laundromat, along with the dirty suit.
~
After maybe two weeks of living together, they have gotten comfortable around each other. They sit on the floor one evening, Hanna trying to teach Horatio (his name for the time being) how to play Spit, when there is a frantic knocking on the door. Hanna gets up, slowly (almost like he is in pain, Horatio notices) and answers the door.
And youngish man, maybe in his late twenties is on the opposite side of the door. Hanna smiles. "Hey Conrad, come on in," the ginger stands aside and Conrad hurries in. "How have you been feeling?" Conrad just grunts and stares at Horatio.
"Um, sorry, am I interrupting something?" Conrad says, eyeing the playing cards. Hanna shakes his head. "So, anyway..." Conrad looks shaken, and he is silent for a moment. "Some... other... vampires are looking for you." Hanna's face pales. Horatio stands up, moving so that he is behind Hanna. "They say that you need to find the vampire that turned me and put that curse that you broke for her, back on her." Hanna looks ill and Horatio places a hand on the boy's (ice cold) shoulder. "I'm really sorry, I just, they kinda cornered me and I-" Hanna just shakes his head.
"It isn't your fault Conrad, don't worry, okay?" Conrad just nodded and looked away from Hanna. "Did the vampires give any names? Adresses?" Horatio begins to pick up the cards, shuffling them before putting them back in the box. This is his first time seeing Hanna do any investigative work, and he is secretly fascinated by what is going on between the two men. Conrad nods.
"Uh, their names are Casimiro and Finas. And the vampire lady's name is Adelaide," Hanna nods and begins scrawing the names on a Post-It that Horatio handed to him. "They said they would pay you well if you did it for them... and if you didn't curse Adelaide, um," Conrad scratches the back of his head. "They would kill... you," Hanna just nods and caps the sharpie that he had been scribbling with. Another awkward silence settles over the trio. Conrad turns to leave.
"Oh, wait," Hanna rushes to the fridge. He turns back to Conrad, holding a brown paper bag. "Worth gave me this, to give to you." Conrad takes the paper sack.
"Um, thanks, you, um, didn't have to do that," Conrad says, looking bashful. "I know you don't really like blood, or whatever." Hanna just smiles.
"It's fine, it wasn't like it was out of my way. Plus, I know you don't really like Worth all that much." Conrad looks flustered and mumbles something before quickly turning and leaving. Hanna sighs and flops back onto the mattress that serves as his bed. He rubs his face roughly with his hands.
"Hanna," Horatio sits down next to the man. "Are you alright?" Hanna moves his hands to look at Horatio.
"Yeah Magnus... just frusterated," He rolls onto his side, facing Magnus. "This vampire, Adelaide, was in Conrad's apartment, and he hired me to get rid of her, but she tricked me into breaking a curse on her and then she attacked Conrad. It's kinda funny... she really didn't mean to sire him, but I managed to get some of her blood... so, ya know..." Magnus isn't sure if he knows what Hanna is talking about. "Just, magic... big magic like that... is really hard on me." Magnus is confused.
"Wait, you do magic?" Hanna has a bit of a talent for forgetting details.
"Oh," Hanna sits up. "I didn't tell you?" Magnus raises an eyebrow at him. "Well, it's not really <i>magic</i>," He gets up and grabs a sharpie. "It's runes, which is like... older than magic... I guess. I don't know how to explain it." He scribbles a rune on his palm and suddenly a whitish flame is dancing in his palm. "I use them for protection... this one is like... a flashlight. Some of them are for attacking."
"And some are for curses, right?" Magnus asks. Hanna nods, cupping his right hand over the flame, extinguishing it. "What does it do to you?" Hanna turns away.
"I don't really wanna talk about that," he says.

No.52205
>>52203
Part three. (there will be many chapters)

It's their first night out investigating together. Hanna and Cornelius wander through a twisting maze of alleys is utter silence. The silence isn't uncomforatble. Maybe a little bit, but Cornelius realizes that Hanna is so used to being out on his own, he must've forgotten that he had a companion. And, Cornelius thinks sadly, thinking back on the dead silent afternoons together, Hanna is probably used to not talking at all.
Hanna finally comes to a stop infront of a door with peeling, black paint. He raps on the wood sharply and a slot opens up on the door. Cool eyes peer out.
"Yes?" The voice is smooth and icy. Hanna fumbles in his pocket for a moment and then shows the eyes a slightly crumpled piece of paper. Cornelius thinks he sees a rune scribbled on the paper. The slot shuts a moment late, the door opens.
Hanna walks inside, Cornelius close behind. They are in some kind of club, loud, thudding music that makes Cornelius's eyes vibrate. The club is dark, save for strobe light. Girls and boys dance against each other. Hanna walks through the crowd, ignoring the bar. He and the zombie move towards a quieter corner, where a horribly beautiful man is sitting, surrounded by women. He has a cup in front of him, filled with something dark and viscous, and a sudden surge of protectiveness is welling in Cornelius's chest. The man spots Hanna and grins, showing sharp, pointed incisors.
Cornelius suddenly understands where they are.
"Mister Cross," the man says, and it takes every ounce of Cornelius's will power to not grab Hanna and run. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" Hanna looks anxious, his eyes flit all over, never meeting the vampire's eyes.
"I'm looking for um, Adelaide," Hanna mumbles. The man's eyes narrow.
"And why would you do a thing like that?" The man is absently stroking one of the women's necks. "And didn't you preform quite the favor for her?" Hanna shrugs. "You never did specify..."
"Um," Hanna glances around, guiltily. "I may have... released... her?" The vampire looks livid.
"And <i>why</i> did you do that, Mister Cross?" he growls out.
"I was hired to get a bat out of a clients house. She said that she would leave if I helped her... and then she kinda... killed my client." The man looks positively incensed.
"And where is your client now?" Hanna's color is draining quickly and Cornelius is prepared to step in between Hanna and the vampire.
"He's... actually... well..." Hanna looks near tears. "She kinda unintentionally sired him." The man's nails on the hand that was stroking the woman's neck sharpen and plunge into her neck. The woman gasps and flails, the other ladies in the booth don't seem to notice or care for the woman's plight. Hanna flinches. Cornelius steps forward.
"Mister Cross, who sent you?" The man grits out.
"Um," Hanna's voice cracks. "Casimiro and Finas?" The man shouts and rips his fingers out of the woman's neck, flinging her limp body aside.
"I advise you," the man says to Cornelius. "That you take mister Cross and <i>leave</i>."

Cornelius grabs Hanna by the wrist and drags him out of the club.
~
Cornelius drags Hanna quickly onto a main street and busies himself with putting as much space between them and the club. They stop in front of a diner.
"C'mon Hanna, let's get you something to eat," Cornelius says. Hanna just gulps and shakes his head.
"I can't- not in a diner. Please," he isn't meeting Cornelius's eyes. "I can't go in Ignatus. The smell, I just-" Hanna looks positively ill and hobbles over to the gutter before vomiting. He sways and falls against Ignatus before saying "I need to go to the doctor's." Ignatus couldn't agree more and Hanna begins dragging him back to the maze of alleys.
After a good fifteen minutes of Hanna half running, half hobbling, they stop in front of the third door in an alley. Hanna groans and falls against the door, trying a few times to work the door knob before succeeding. He stumbles through the door and Cornelius follows the red head into a sad, sad excuse for a surgery.
The lighting is yellowy, the paint peeling. The smell of stale nicotine and booze permeates the air and Cornelius is thisclose to dragging Hanna out of the office and to a real doctor's practice.
A thin man, reading with a cigarette between his lips, looks up at the duo.
"Oh fucking-" The man sighs, stubs out his cigarette. "What happened <i>now</i> Hanna?" Hanna just groans.
"I did something dumb Worth," a desperate whine is evident in the ginger's voice and the man-doctor, whatever- sighs and flaps his wrist towards a back room.
"Go lie down in there, 'kay?" Hanna nods and totters through another doorway. Worth eyes Cornelius. "And 'oo're you?" Cornelius's eyes snap from the door that they had just been fixed on to Worth.
"Hanna's..." what, sidekick? Friend? "I'm Hanna's assistant," Cornelius finally decides on. Worth just rolls his eyes.
"What happened?" He says, shrugging on what looks like a lab coat with fur trim. "Forget to eat?"
"Got in trouble with some vampires," Cornelius says. He hears Hanna retching and tries to peer into the room. Worth steps in his line of view.
"That's all?" He raises a pale eyebrow. Cornelius nods. "Fine then. He'll be fine in an 'our."
~
Give or take, an hour later, Hanna wobbles out of the back room, a vaguely dreamy expression on his face.
"Mhm, hullo Wes," Hanna says, his voice honey slow. Wes rises and puts a hand on Hanna's shoulder, steadying the boy. The boy's body seems to almost twist and blur as Wes watches him. "Can we go home?" Wes nods, and grabs his coat and Hanna's.
As they are about to leave, Worth stops Wes. "Look after 'im, okay?" Worth looks sulky, as if it took all his willpower to say the words to Wes. "So help me God, if he dies..." Wes simply nods and guides Hanna out the door.
~
Wes ends up carrying Hanna home and finds him disturbingly light. Hanna barely speaks and when he does, it is in disturbing fragments that Wes can't decipher.
The landlady, Mrs. Blaney, stops Wes at the door to Hanna's apartment.
"Someone came by lookin' for you, Falk," She says in a voice that sounds and smells like a lifetime of cheap cigarettes. She has an envelope in her hand. "Some girly with blue hair. Didn't leave a name." Wes nods and takes the envelope after setting Hanna gently against the wall. Mrs. Blaney gives him an odd look but doesn't say anything and leaves. Wes opens the door and leads Hanna inside, pushing him down onto the mattress and pulling off his vans and jeans. Hanna blinks at Wes, and his eyes are suddenly a chilling, too blue. Wes has a sudden, nagging feeling of deja vu and then Hanna blinks and his eyes go back to their normal blue. Wes tucks him in a Hanna mumbles something that sounds disturbingly like "my darling boy" before falling dead asleep. Wes sighs.
He turns out the light and opens the letter that Mrs. Blaney gave him. By the light of his glowing eyes, he reads the plea of a young lady named Toni Ipres who's band seems to be practicing in a theater with an angry ghost. Wes folds the letter and puts it back in the envelope.
He'll tell Hanna about it tomorrow.

Aaaaaand that's all I have for right now D:

No.52208
>>52072
BEHOLD, FOR I GO TO ANIMEBOSTON.

And it's basically become a crazed jumble of stuff. It advertises as "everything Japan!" but really, it's just "everything."

And BGHHJGBKH IF TESSA CAME TO ANIMEBOSTON I WOULD BE SO HAPPY.

No.52218
>>52205

FFFF <3 I'm loving this!

No.52227
File: 128080438181.png-(362.08KB, 1081x753, lamontgilescorey.png)
52227
MOAR WEIGHT

No.52229
File: 128080449444.png-(439.96KB, 734x999, zombienomOWMYARM.png)
52229
man the elbow too, that's gotta hurt

No.52234
>>52227

Uberwin to Tessa for the Crucible reference. Srsly. I have so much more squeeing respect for her as a person now just for that.

No.52239
>>52229
Oh god, they are so cute.

No.52240
>>52229
awww Zombie looks so worried...

No.52248
>>52097

Please for the love of God, someone tell me where this video can be found...

No.52258
hiii, delurking. This is has been up somewhere else for a while already, but I was told to post it here! my apologies for this containing no smut whatsoever. but err ... it's still Conworth?

xxxxxxxxx

“Oh, shit, hang on. I’ve got to take this one.”
Worth spun very slowly around in his office chair. His eyebrows were raised almost comically as Conrad fumbled with his iPhone across the desk.
“Connie,” he began to chastise, “you’re not really gonna answer your phone in the middle of an appointment, are ya?” His lips curled into a grin at the dead stare he got in return. “’S just bad manners. Nice ringtone.”
“Thanks. Imogen Heap,” Conrad replied flatly. “And this is far from what I’d call an ‘appointment.’” Even if they did occur at about the same time on about the same day of every week. He put the phone to his ear to answer the call, turned, and started for Worth’s office door. A kind-of-repulsive noise from the back of Worth’s throat made him stop moving.
“Connie, you’re not really gonna just walk out in the middle of an appointment, are ya?”
Conrad looked back over his shoulder to glare imaginary daggers. As Worth’s chair creakily revolved back to face him, the doctor’s earlier smirk was morphing into a Cheshire smile. The word ‘sinister’ did not even begin to cover this. Worth waved him on as if letting him pass by a toll booth.
He forced off a shudder of dread and directed his attention back to the call, because there was now a slightly shrill older woman’s voice in his ear and he could tell this was going to be rough.
“Mom?” he began, very hesitant, and just as he feared, Worth began to laugh. It was more like snarling coyote puppy laughter and it was really unnerving. “I might need to call you ba—”
Worth sat on his knees to lean over the desk, shoulders hunched, and was positively leering with fiendish glee at Conrad. How old was he, anyway, because that position was way too young for him and he hadn’t been this energetic a moment ago. “Ooh oh! It’s mummy? Hand over the phone, Snow White, I needa introduce m’self –”
“You don’t even know how to work an iPhone,” Conrad spat, with his hand over the receiving end. Worth was saying something like ‘a phone’s a damn phone, give it here’ when the darker haired man’s frown grew a little deeper. He strained to hear what his mother was saying for a moment, then his facial expression began to look a little more frantic. He stole a couple of glances at Worth. “Who? No, I – that’s nobody. I don’t know who that is. I …”
Worth looked like he could barely contain himself, at this point.
“I’m at a party and people are just getting a little wild. That’s all. … Yeah, I know it’s only six-thirty.” His neck and ears definitely would have been burning if they could. There was another hardly-stifled laugh from across the office. “It’s, um. It’s a work party.”

Here Worth decided that he was no longer going to be patient and swung his long matchstick legs over the desk. “Nope! That one’s not gonna work, Connie. You don’t have any work friends.” He was being deliberately loud, it was obvious, and sauntering way too near to the phone. Conrad shrank toward the door again, trying to protect Jasper (that was the iPhone, named after Johns but due for a change because y’know) from prying hands that had been who knows where. Jesus, that man would leave hideous fingerprints, too.
“Would you back off? --Don’t worry, Mom, it’s a – like an artist party or something okay. Look, that’s why I have to call you back. I just really can’t talk right now, I seriously can’t.”
“If he won’t talk t’you, I will, Mum,” Worth half-shouted, and the look Conrad gave him during the beat afterward said very clearly ‘you wouldn’t fucking dare.’ But he fucking would, judging by the essence of pure evil visible in his expression, and by how quickly his arms shot out for the phone again. It was no problem for Worth to reach over Conrad’s shoulders as the shorter man fumbled with the door handle (why oh why did he even feel the need to lock it beforehand); he easily plucked the device from his free hand and turned away.
Conrad’s previous life flashed before his eyes.
There was some truth to the earlier statement that Worth had no idea how to use an iPhone. He took a moment to stare at the screen and contemplate how to execute his next plan of attack, which was, undoubtedly, to put it on speaker. Instead of shouting “just touch it, fucktard” like he had half the mind to do, Conrad decided it was time to beg. The idea made him cringe in his Urban Outfitters sweater but presently he could tell that his mother was asking a lot of heated questions, and he could hear the tone of her voice.
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he hissed sotto voce to Worth’s back. “Don’t say a word! Anything you would say to her would make her burst a blood vessel to her brain – just hearing your voice oh my God – just give it back to me and –”
He was cut off by a small cackle of triumph. Okay, so Worth obviously hadn’t been listening at all. Had he even really expected him to.
Worth pressed the speaker button. “’llo, Mum.”
Conrad was kind of stunned. Worth took a leisurely step back toward him but held the phone just out of reach. Stupid tall jerk.
“Conrad?” she asked, voice lightly accented and heavily suspicious. “Who is this man? Why is he calling me ‘mum?’ Is he one of your artist friends?”
Stun mode was over. “No!” he nearly shrieked, lunging up for the phone to no avail. Worth used his right arm to bar Conrad across the chest.
“Why not?” Worth chimed in, sounding just so incredulous. “We’re good friends, aren’t we, peaches?” Peaches saw where this was going and began to protest loudly as the older man continued.
“I swear he’s just a doctor, Mom –”
“I know y’son quite well, miss. We’re right mates.”
“I don’t even know why he’s talking to you because this is–”
“Friends with benefits, even.” A beat. “Very certain kinds of benefits.”
The implication lingered in the air between them, over the phone static, and in a moment of frozen panic Conrad wondered how far the man was going to take this. There was the standard meaning of the term, and then there was, well, their system, their ‘very certain kind’ of system. He was nowhere near ready to explain this to his mother, of course, of all people – especially how it started.
But the silence lengthened. Worth, still wearing that crooked smile, left it at that, and almost earned himself a thank-you. Too bad he still didn’t deserve one right now.
The hand currently holding him back began to trail lightly down Conrad’s chest (no worries about him trying for the phone again, the vamp was too mortified to move) as Worth tilted his head to regard him. The stricken look on Conrad’s face was enough to warrant a snicker that probably sounded to Ms. Achenleck like a fond chuckle. A fond chuckle from Worth was completely different than a fond chuckle from anyone else on the planet, give or take a few serial murderers, perhaps.
“Conrad?” his mother began again after a moment, but didn’t say anything else. Probably couldn’t think of where to start this time.
Conrad nearly groaned, but Worth’s hand was making its way back up, fingertips grazing from his hipbone to mid-torso and taking the bottom of his shirt with it. The sound he made turned into more of a wince. He had forgotten not to breathe; his lungs and throat felt painfully tight and he couldn’t tell if it was because of Worth assholery, the contact or his mother.
There were two courses of action laid out in his mind.
He could admit it was true (because it sure as hell was), shock her and hurt her, and never speak to her again. Alright, he already knew he wasn’t going to do that. He wasn’t sure if it was the friend or the benefits that would horrify her the most, but she’d definitely send him to an asylum either way. That was something he wouldn’t mind waiting on. Just, if not now – when?
Alternatively: he could deny it, tell her the man was intoxicated and didn’t know what he was saying. Simple solution with no heartache on her part. But that would be …
“Whatever,” he mumbled almost to himself, and held out his hand palm-up.
He’d lied to her before and he could do it again.
“Jus’ thought I ought to introduce m’self, ma’am,” Worth said amicably, and dropped Jasper into Conrad’s grasp. He withdrew his roaming hand with a little pinch of flesh – an action that normally would have made Conrad shiver, damn it he was tender there – and half-skipped back over to his desk. The damage was done, after all, and his attention span was probably running low.
Conrad pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. He didn’t even bother to take the phone off of speaker as he told her quickly, “He’s just a doctor, Mom. He’s drunk and thought he’d mess around. Not a therapist,” he added, predicting her next question. “I’ll explain later goodbye.”
The silence that hung in the office after he ended the call didn’t last very long.
“She seems a nice enough lady. Can’t see why you wouldn’t feel like talkin’ to her.”
Conrad massaged his temples. Worth rummaged around in the desk drawers for something. A few more seconds passed. Worth began humming something unrecognizable.
“Why would you do that?” Conrad managed to ask, a little sadly.
Where he had expected an immediate snarky retort, there was nothing, so Conrad looked back over at Worth. The doctor’s sneer was gone. He had pulled a lighter from a drawer, apparently, and was putting it to use. He started walking across the room and stopped behind Conrad to take the first drag of his cigarette.
“I just don’t see the point in keepin’ secrets.”
Conrad watched him move past him over to the door and jiggle the door handle. Still locked. He turned to face him again. Their eyes met for a moment but Conrad couldn’t hold the gaze.
Another small laugh, but this one was different. Conrad was pretty sick of him being so amused. But it sounded normal, less tense, and helped loosen his shoulders just a little.
“Well now, mama’s boy,” stupid tall jerk said more loudly, leaning his back against the door and inclining his head, “didn’t we have some business to attend to?”

No.52280
>>52132 http://community.livejournal.com/hannaisnotarp/ this is one of the LJ rps

No.52283
>>52258

I APPROVE.

No.52307
File: 128086705690.jpg-(113.79KB, 1210x1650, Barista Unzombie.jpg)
52307
Well, I guess since this has been officially pimped out on Sugar and Spice, I can post it here.

No.52308
>>52307
So I did not expect to like this whole bookstore/coffee shop AU, and then stayed up reading it until 5 in the morning. No joke. It's so fucking cute it's unbearable. Also, this picture, holyfuckingshit. Tessa is a dream come true.

No.52311
>>52307
>>52229
Zombie's face just gets longer and longer!
(Not that I'm complaining, mind)

No.52313
File: 128087236565.jpg-(315.50KB, 700x800, reqsadafin.jpg)
52313
BROS B4 HOS MAN? This was requested, man. Still gay as fuck. GAY GAY GAY PINK SHEETS

"IT'S MAUVE"

No.52320
>>52307

MOST TERRIBLE FIC I HAVE EVER READ. EVER.

No.52325
>>52320

You need to lurk moar then. While terrible there's CERTAINLY worse on the tubes.

No.52331
>>52151. I need more faggotry for this list. I am especially looking for rare pairs, ples/ves and fin/cas. (Feel free to link it here if you hate lj.)

No.52335
File: 12808853073.gif-(2.31MB, 480x270, GOODMORNINGpart1.gif)
52335
8,I We're off the front page!

No.52339
>>52335
HOLY FUCK YASU
YASU
YOU ARE TOO GOOD TO US ;_;
AGDFHGKJFHLG;';CLYRXYCUV

No.52347
>>52335
oh nooo. why didnt you wait for the new thread to post that!

No.52363
>>52335

Oh hey, I'm curious, can I have your permission to use your awesome .gifs as my icon on a site?

No.52401
>>52339 HAHA CUTE THANKS
>>52347 BECAUSE I CAN NEVER WAIT
>>52363 Do whatever you want darling!

No.52406
>>52401
Thank you!

No.52448
File: 128096752793.jpg-(57.38KB, 320x254, R.101 JOE STRUMMER KISS ON CAR.jpg)
52448
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysmvC4pO-ZU

No.52516
File: 12809903044.jpg-(215.08KB, 592x400, Hannapa the Rapper.jpg)
52516
Hannapa the Rapper?

Spoiler'd for utter stupidity and lack of porn (at least I'm sincere :U).

No.52547
>>52448

HOLY SHIIIT LMFAO
I CANNOT EVEN

No.52554
>>52516

Oh god wtf am I looking at here, haha

No.52557
>>52307
i swear this dude looks like steve byrne

No.52559
I'm making a new thread, because today is the day I finish all my porn and post it. And that much content deserves front page.

Prepare yourselves for porn dump.



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