RP Open Post

[goddamngrenades]

Smut, Gen, Angst, Fluff, Anything, Everything.
PFL era, Post war, Pre Canon, AU, whichever
Brackets or Prose whatever you're comfortable with
Tag and go, baby!

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[goddamngrenades]

[ Okay this has gone beyond vague similarities and hit right on the painful. She's dead. She can't be here, glaring at him, demanding answers. But that posture is just so-

And the way she'd run.

But Carolina is DEAD. There's no way-

Is there?

He drums his hands on his thighs- sure he's been careful about posture, about his voice, but that? The drumming, the humming, the odd tattoo that he'd always done. It's pretty damning. ]

Ask away.

[goddamngrenades]

It's just the usual. The take, how he performed, what they're gonna do next. A lot of planning and a lot of- well. Discussion on why the FUCK hadn't he been informed? D knows about his blood pressure this extra stress couldn't have been good for him and yes that is the only reason he's pissed. It calms down after, and they hug it out. Well. York hugs, Delta endures.

Soon he sends him to his own room and he settles back in the sitting area. "You gonna camp out on the sofa for tonight?"

[goddamngrenades]

He tips forward, leaning into Malcolm. Needing that grounding for the moment. "...sorry."

He is kind of fucked up. This won't be easy under normal circumstances and- well. This ain't exactly normal.

[goddamngrenades]

The first touch of David's hand has him locking up, shuddering out a crackling moan of his name, and spilling into his palm. Too much, too good, too perfect in all the best ways. He goes limp against David's body, panting, harsh and loud in the otherwise still bathroom.

[violetsaregrey]

"Oh fuck," Wash gasps, and he goes still for a moment, feeling every shudder that Taylor makes right through to his cock. He'd come, just like that. Wash wraps his free arm around him, holding him tightly as he starts to move again. He's close, so close, and all it takes is a few thrusts before Wash comes, his groans of pleasure muffled against Taylor's shoulder. His harsh breathing is impossible to miss though, pressed hard as he is against Taylor's body.

[pastdoesntdefine]

"A pity the historical follies of man hold no interest, then." She leans back on the couch again, eyes closing. She doesn't know these shows mentioned, doesn't seem particularly interested in finding out. But the comment about his grand mother opens them again.

"Why?"

[tactical_alert]

"No. I'm sorry. Or we can both be sorry." Maybe it's a mood swing that's got him smiling. He can't rightly tell, now, can he? His pitches his voice lower, quieter, for just them. "We won't be sparring, but are you still going to want to jump me if all I'm doing is working out by my lonesome?"

[goddamngrenades]

"They really should." A little more sketching out on his schedule, underlining some things before he moves his alarms and notifications on his phone around. That question has him blinking. "Well. Matriarch of the family. And she kind of did say that I shouldn't play with magic or, well. Study up on it. She probably wouldn't approve of- this. Or the channel."

[goddamngrenades]

"Maaaaaybe?" He tips his head up to blink at Mal, all wide eyed innocence. "You're kind of sexy."

[tactical_alert]

"Only kind of? Ohhh, Mister Murray. I think we both know that's not quite the case."

He should go kick the shit out of that bag some more. Yes. Kicking and punching and flexing and moving. Mostly his moves this time, hopefully. Sounds like a great plan.

[pastdoesntdefine]

"Yeah. Makes sense. I don't think we will be receiving any unexpected visitors but better safe than sorry."

[goddamngrenades]

"...notfair." Using that voice. Wandering off and- showing off. Not fair at ALL. Malcolm knows exactly how attractive he is to York and- okay. No jumping. None. Not gonna do it, nope.

Fuck.

Okay he can just- strip off his shirt and go back to lifting. He can do that. Will do that.

[goddamngrenades]

"Sounds fair." A beat. "Any opinions on dinner? We're gonna order in."

[tactical_alert]

Showing off those muscles? York, you're sure you want to play this game? Because he'll play, and he'll play to win. Like he always does.

(Or like...she...always does? Hm. He'll sort that out later.)

What about being adults about this? Surely if you're too hot and bothered, one can go take a quick cool shower. Feeling up for a bonerkilling shower yet, York?

[goddamngrenades]

Not too hot and bothered yet, nope. Gonna- go through his stretches. Yeah. Settle up on a mat and start going through his yoga poses, twisting and contorting little by little.

[tactical_alert]

You, sir, are a shit. No, he is not hitting the bag any harder than usual. That's just how hard he normally hits. There is not to be any jumping today, not in that way. He'll stick to his guns.

[goddamngrenades]

Stretching and twisting and holding his yoga poses, grinning a little when Mal starts hitting the bag harder than usual. Apparently flexibility did it for him.

[tactical_alert]

Malcolm is plenty flexible himself. Just...not going to start stretching now or do any bloody gymnastics. "Having fun over there?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Mhmm." He twists out of a trifold and goes back into a handstand, braced on his forearms. "It's a good core workout."

[pastdoesntdefine]

It's not yours. [what.] The digital key you're using to bump the locks. It's not yours.

[Epsilon saw it, checked in passing, recognised D's old signature. Using a dead man's tools, things he hadn't earned. Had to have stolen.

Because the alternative simply isn't possible.

The coldness of her tone is almost at odds with the cadence of what should be a chipper voice.] Where did you get it from.

[tactical_alert]

"I'm going to come over there and kick you over in a second."

[goddamngrenades]

"What? That's not very nice, I'm just trying to exercise."

[goddamngrenades]

Ah, that? It is mine. [ He drapes is arms over his knees, head angled slightly to the side, peering down at her. ] I have no idea what you're implying. My old partner and I developed it together.

[ A beat. ]

He's dead now.

[pastdoesntdefine]

"If it's spicy, I'll probably eat it. Nothing too heavy beer-wise, though." Because she sincerely doubts anyone will be having a soda. Even Delta will likely indulge.

[tactical_alert]

"You're trying to start something." Fine. Break time. Let him just be over here, closer to you, sweaty and with his head back and neck exposed guzzling down some water he may or may not let some splash down his front.