Vidia's Current Hyperfixations

One quick rap, followed by two quick taps.

The door pops open, and there is the one that Fred calls Bright Eyes. They coolly raise a brow, always so unbothered.

"Hey," Darlin thins their lips into a sardonic smile. "Is your father here?"

Their jaw twitches. "Oh, har har, you're so funny."

Behind them, Fred's voice lightly calls: "Is that our other parent?"

Darlin swallows back a light laugh as, in an instant, Fred pops his head over his friend's shoulder.

"Hi, Fred," Darlin says.

"Hey," he beams back. "Dad's been waiting for you all night."

"I'm not too late for dinner, am I?" They raise the casserole dish they have up in their left hand. "I bought lasagna."

Bright Eyes' brow furrows in confusion. "Brought?"

"Bought. I'm not trying to disprove you vampires' immortality."

The youngest vamp appreciates that with an amused snort, while Fred actually chuckles. "You're too kind."

"Sooo, can I come in then?" Darlin challenges playfully.

Bright Eyes sighs and steps aside to let them in.

"Thanks, kiddo," Darlin says, gently patting their head.

Bright Eyes grumbles, but they can barely hide the smile that tugs at their lips.

Sam zips into Darlin's sight and takes them into a hug, before kissing their forehead. "Hi, Darlin."

"Hi, handsome," they peck his lips sweetly, basically swaying in the comfort of his arms.

"Get a room, why don't you?" Bright Eyes quips.

Between You, Me & the Fence Post is on the front page….

It’s barely a third done….

“Probably be 70k by the time it’s done”

Um…

…

David, Angel AND Sam are all sitting down looking at me???

- few fics or prompts from here delivered on time but not every single one because I overestimated my ability to write (and life got messy/busy and there's no chance for finishing them all until the set deadline that I put on myself. willingly. without anybody asking me to)

- getting most/all (one can hope) of them BUT in an undisclosed date (for sure not September) (who knows if even October honestly)(maybe November?)

I'm just trying to find a middle for myself because while I write what I write mostly for well, myself, I know that there are some people (hopefully) who maybe will enjoy it too and I don't want to dissapoint them by not providing to what I agreed -_-

thank you. You guys are all literally so sweet.

I am so very glad that my silly art stuff can make you happy! And saying my colors make you think of ghibli??? THE HIGHEST OF COMPLIMENTS! Thank you, thank you...

o7 Thank you @echoschaoticreality for the rec!

reference under cut:

This but I make yalls redacted ocs

a little less lonely…

bonus:

[PREVIOUS PART]

[TABLE OF CONTENTS]

They cooked. He cleaned. Grocery shopping was on his shoulder because he didn't want them to carry the heavy bags, and they did the laundry, shirts drying together, sleeves touching, like their hands whenever they would watch something on TV while cuddling on the couch.

Domestic, much.

Just two friends living together.

Sometimes, when the movie night turned longer than expected, their head lolling onto his shoulder or chest, them asleep soundly, he would just lay there, still and quiet, letting them catch some rest. Insomnia was not welcome, not when he could easily remedy it, magic not necessary when he had the power of old comedies playing.

Sometimes, they would study together, stealing glances at their respective notes. He would end up with doodles on the notebook's margins, kitty faces, and hearts with cupid's arrows going through the middle. They would often find a note between the pages, a reminder to smile or drink some water, or text him back. Simple things friends did for each other.

They were best friends. They were content with that. He, was content with that.

So why was his hand shaking when he opened the door late at night, groggy and in his pyjama pants, looking at his best friend who had smudged glitter on their face, slightly tangled hair and few bruises on their neck that looked like hickeys?

"Sorry, I forgot my keys." he let them in, lockign the door as they stepped inside, wobbly on legs that danced for too long.

"How was it?" he could see, but the question was more out of being nice rather than the curiosity. Trying his best not to let his voice crack, he scratched at his neck, muffling a yawn.

"Good, actually. Can't believe I didn't want to go." oh he heard all of it, his ear being talked off as they complained.

It's too late. I will have to cancel my shift so I won't have enough cash by the end of the week. Exams are coming, I shouldn't be partying. You weren't invited, are you really sure I should go? Won't that be rude to you?

"There was a happy hour, and hey, there were so many nice people getting me drinks. The bartender was a nice guy too, he complimented my shirt." the one he helped them pick out one shopping spree ago. It matched their style and it looked good indeed. He told them that too, on so many occasions.

"That really sounds great." he couldn't stop eyeing their neck as they slumped down onto the couch, shoes kicked off and legs placed on the arm rest, back popping with a nasty sound.

They were just friends. He had no right to be jealous, even if he wanted to be. The whole world seemed to notice what he saw in them, the pretty eyes, cunning smile and charming face that melted his frustration the moment it turned to him, all flushed and teasing his senses that tingled.

"And there was..." they started waving their hands, pointing at the neck. He would listen to every gossip they would share, talk shit with them for hours. But he wouldn't stand listening to them talking about someone who manages to do that, while he was asleep in his own bed, unaware.

Best friend. He was just their best friend and that had to be enough.

"You can tell me that tomorrow, okay? You sure must be tired." half smile offered, he had to calm himself somehow. Sitting by them, they shifted around, immediately cuddling up to him, arms wrapping around his torso, head back to the spot it rested so perfectly on. Faint smell of booze lingering, masked with their perfume, they almost smelled so divine–

"I wish you could have gone with me." they hummed, voice muffled as they pushed closer, nose pressing against the freshly healed tattoo on his chest.

"Maybe next time." he would love that, actually. There was a new club opening soon, he could take them there. Get some drinks, dance a little, spend some time together that he wanted to have with them.

"Mhm... next time."

"Promise?"

"Of course. Now, let's get you out of those clothes and into bed." he would take care of everything. Pick them up, carry to the bathroom so they could wash their face and brush their teeth, bring them clean clothes to change into, lay them on the bed and leave a kiss on the forehead for better dreams.

Just as a good boyfriend would do. Right?

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Bestie is sooooo "Carmen" by Lana coded. They are effortlessly gorgeous, always turning heads, making friends so easily and getting drinks just because.

(A little shorter so i can keep uploading and not burn out heheh)

Sam wandered further into the apartment. A decent sized kitchenette, a nice lounge area.

He whistled low at the size of the tv. He didn’t watch much tv himself but he could appreciate a good sized tv. Taking his hat off and hanging it on the back of the door, cringing slightly with how soaked through he was.

“Nice bathroom…” he noted, checking the fluffy white towels. Sam peeled the wet fabric away from his body and spread them out over the sink, scrunching and draining them as much as he could before hanging them over a radiator.

The shower sprung to life and Sam stepped in, groaning appreciatively at the scalding water. He soon warmed back up and his muscles and mind finally relaxed.

‘Thank you lord for the luck I received today.’ 

He prayed internally. Religion wasn’t really his thing but he knew he had to thank someone, and he’d already thanked Tank more than a couple times.

Speaking of, Sam felt heat flush to his face again as he planted his hands on the shower wall, the water running down his face.

They were… dangerous. Hot. Cute. But dangerous nonetheless. The smirks they threw at him were almost wolfish in nature, but he couldn’t deny the effect it had on him.

He hadn’t had a partner in a good long while, Vince was always trying to set him up with someone but it never lasted more than a first date. 

Sam had thought he’d grown too old for romance but Tank? Showing up like some knight in leather-clad armour? With a demeanour Sam couldn’t help but find attractive.

And the way they felt under all that cloth… those muscles… that body. Sam shuddered thinking about it. 

‘No… they are way too young for me… surely…’ He thought, rubbing water into his eyes.

He pumped one shot of shampoo into his hand from the dispenser, giving a sniff before shrugging and lathering up his hair.

Sam was in his 40s now. His time for random flings and crushes had long since been and gone.

But Tank… Tank was tempting he couldn't deny. Dangerously so. He may be oblivious to some things but the looks they were giving him was enough to make the southerner blush.

Sam rinsed his entire body down carefully, massaging the muscles in his arms, gently stretching his back out.

The muscles that covered his back rolled and tensed, the water running down them. He may not own his own chiselled abs but Sam Collins still worked out.

Knocking the shower off and wrapping a towel around his waist he slung another towel over his shoulders ruffling his hair as he headed back out into the main area.

And this was when he realised he’d made a fatal error. He had no clothes to change into. The ones he was wearing were still too soaked and he’d left the rest of them in his truck. 

“Fuck…” He said out loud.

Then came a knock at the door and Sam’s heart nearly skipped a beat.

“Oh fuck…” he said again, frantically scanning the room. “Who is it?”

“Just your new favourite rider Sammy.” Responded a muffled voice. “Just- give me a sec Darlin’ I uh…”

“Take your time cowboy, I’m not going anywhere too fast.” Sam could practically hear a wink in Tank’s voice.

‘Fuck it’ He thought as he went to the door and opened it, looking up at Tank.

“Howdy Sam, sorry it took so long your… mmm.” Tank’s gaze dropped, their eyes eating up each pound of glistening wet flesh, their eyes stopping at the top of the low hanging towel, a long v-line dipping under the fabric and a trail of black hairs leading back up his abdomen. 

They stepped back slightly, their eyes hungry as they looked him up and down slowly, taking in the wet pushed back hair, the toned arms leaning against the door frame.

“Well well well… you were holding back something delicious cowboy…” Sam chuckled lightly, a light pink coating his cheeks as he crossed his arms and relaxed a little.

“I ‘preciate the compliment Darlin’ but I’d rather not be stood half naked for much longer…” Tank’s eyes met him again, and he swore their pupils were dilated. 

“Shame. I’m loving the view… but that wouldn’t be very hospitable of me would it. Here, I brought everything I could out of your truck. There’s more downstairs but… It seems I guessed correctly what state you’d be in when I knocked on your door.” They winked at him again. Tank passed him the handle of one suitcase and placed two more down. Sam hadn’t even realised they had two on their shoulder. 

“It is gonna get colder tonight though, so while I'll be disheartened, you should wrap up well.”  They turned away as Sam wheeled the three suitcase into the kitchen area, pushing the door to a close behind him. He threw one up onto the counter, fishing out a pair of boxers and another flannel top. He tried to find a pair of pants before another soft knock came at the door.

“Cowboy? I have the last of your suitcases.” 

“Give me one secon’ Tank, I tried to put some actual clothes on.” “Oh no… you really shouldn’t put any more on, especially for me.” He could hear them pouting. “Oh ha ha Darlin’ you already seen enough of me as is…”

Sam threw the towel back around his waist.

‘Better than just boxers…’

He went back to the door, a flicker of disappointment crossed Tank’s face as their gaze dropped.

“Shame.” They said again pouting, handing him two more suitcases.

Sam wheeled them out of the way and went back to the door where Tank was waiting.

“Flirting aside Mr Collins. Your truck is at Dusk Mechanics, it’s a couple streets away but I’d say it’s still walking distance.” Tank zipped their jacket down, much to Sam’s, well something of Sam’s enjoyment, and dove their hand into the side, bringing out a card. They passed it to him, an Address and number written in dark blue neat font.

“Is this… your number?” He asked, reading it carefully. They smirked down at him, their eyes dropping slightly, mischief dancing in their eyes.

They leant down, pointing at the number.

“This one? Right here? Is it mine…?” They blinked innocently. Then snickered as they straightened back up. “No…that’s just the number for the garage… Why? Do you want my number Sammy?” 

Sam groaned, he basically walked into that. Then he thought about it.

“Maybe I do Darlin’...” He flipped the card over, finding a pen in the flannel and first noting the number and address down on the back of his hand, then writing a different number on the blank side of the card.

“But I’ll offer you mine first, as a show of fairness.” Tank cackled slightly, taking the card back.

‘Oh my god, why did I do that…’ Sam thought, panicking internally. ‘I haven't flirted this much… well since never. Much less exchanged contact info, oh lord what if they're really a creep…’ He kept his face as neutral as he could but he felt sweat bead on his forehead. Tank must have noticed though because their gaze softened and they gently tucked the card away, focusing on him.

“Listen Sam… if this is too much, just tell me to fuck off, I won’t be hurt- well hurt that badly if you do. I really do just want to help. And I've been told many times that  I am too much of a flirt even at the right time.” That look in their eyes set the old southerner's heart ablaze. Flirting was one thing but tenderness lit him up, his walls shook for the first time in years.

“I… I won’t deny it… this feels like a lot but- I’ve always done things slow, and I only met you 2 hours ago-”

“Ha, that’s fair. Well I’ll buzz off now anyway, gotta get a start on some other cars while yours dries out, Just wanted to make sure you felt welcomed.” They stuck their hand out again. “Welcome to Dahlia Sam Collins.” Sam took their hand, giving it a firm shake. “Thank you for the hospitality Tank Moon.”

Tank saluted him and walked off, Sam was a little disappointed to see they lost the saunter from earlier but he also appreciated it.

‘Your gettin’ too old for this Collins…’