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local man a disaster, more news at nine

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16875442388: I’m running by the store for lube on the way home.

16875442388: Is there anything you want?

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: ☜︎♑︎♑︎⬧︎ ✠︎✠︎☹︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♎︎□︎❍︎⬧︎♋︎ ⬧︎♍︎♋︎❒︎♐︎………………slime man

16875442388: Why are you like this?

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: :-)…………..slime man

 

 

“I don’t have any clean underwear,” Ardyn lamented, sitting on top of the break room table as he checked something off in his weird book of boss stuff. “My ass hurts.”

“I don’t want to know that,” Aranea replied, holding up a bag of coffee grounds. “This one?”

“No.” She dropped it back in the box and groaned. “No, I mean, not like from getting fucked, but that too—“

“Ardyn!”

“I had to wear a g-string today and Aranea my darling I could not be having a worse wedgie if I tried.” Aranea closed her eyes. Breathed. Stood up, and pointed at her boss.

“You,” she told him, “I would sell to Shiva for one corn chip.” Ardyn looked put-out at the very suggestion.

“After all I do for you, my spider. Look, all I’m saying is that I wish Cor would own something that wasn’t a pair of tighty whities that I could borrow on laundry day.” He sighed, put his chin on his hand, and closed his eyes. His mascara was perfect. “I can’t retain my reputation in tighty whities.”

“One corn chip, Ardyn!”

 

 

16875442388: Where is my ten-ounce Crownsguard mug?

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: ✋︎■︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♍︎♋︎♌︎♓︎■︎♏︎⧫︎ ✏︎…………...slime man

16875442388: Why.

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: ❄︎♒︎♏︎ □︎■︎♏︎ □︎❖︎♏︎❒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎&︎.…………...slime man

16875442388: Why are you insisting on doing this.

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: ✋︎ ♐︎♏︎♏︎●︎ ●︎♓︎&︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♎︎□︎■︎❼︎⧫︎ ♋︎◻︎◻︎❒︎♏︎♍︎♓︎♋︎⧫︎♏︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎■︎♑︎♎︎♓︎■︎♑︎⬧︎.…………...slime man


16875442388: If I ever find out who taught you how to do this, I’m arresting them.

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: :-(…………...slime man

 

 

Ardyn and Cor’s apartment was definitely not big enough for the whole lot of them, but they were managing somehow. Mostly because Ardyn had “played” a “gracious host” and in order to free up a chair for someone else had sprawled into Cor’s lap and left the other man looking flushed and uncomfortable. Once again, Ardyn Izunia’s definition of personal space remained loose, at best. Aranea and Cindy had done the same, but Luna, Crowe, Nyx, Biggs, Wedge, Gentiana, Ravus, Drautos, and Luche were are sprawled on every other available surface.

Luna, despite it being October, was wearing two extra sweaters, a hat, and two pairs of pants. “I,” she had insisted at the beginning when Ardyn had ben beatifically dealing cards, “Refuse to lose again.”

“Your poker face is terrible,” Crowe had shot back. But, Biggs and Wedge had apparently brought pre-made Monster Mashes, and halfway into the game Luna was still completely dressed and smug about it, although her brother had lost his pants, Aranea was down to her bra on top, and of all people Ardyn was losing. Ardyn. Ardyn, whose poker face could withstand firebombing, probably. Was losing. Badly.

And he’d even started the night wearing four scarves.

Now he was down to just his pants.

“I’m quite cold,” Ardyn complained, sprawling more in Cor’s lap. “I feel like it’s unfair that Cor can see my cards.” Cor, who looked both turned on and uncomfortable in equal measures, Aranea didn’t think was paying any attention to Ardyn’s cards. If she had to hazard a guess, he was paying a lot more attention to the fact that his boyfriend had an arm slung around his neck and the button of his too-tight jeans popped. Why could he just not dress like a middle aged man.

“You’re cold,” Ravus whimpered, in only his boxers. “You’re cold.”

“Oh, grow up.” Nyx was raking it in. Nyx always raked it in. “Should’ve worn more clothes.” Ravus glared at Nyx like he could met his head in.

“Next hand,” Cor finally managed, and Aranea groaned as Ardyn shifted in his lap, making the other man gulp.

“Ride your boyfriend’s dick after we leave,” Cindy called, kicking Ardyn in the head. He did not look even the slightest bit abashed.

 

 

16875442388: I’ll be home at seven.

16875442388: I love you.

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: ✋︎ ●︎□︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♋︎■︎♎︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎❒︎ ■︎♓︎♍︎♏︎ ♎︎♓︎♍︎&︎ :-)…………….slime man

16875442388: I take that back.

16875442388: I’m single now.

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: No !

16875442388: Too late.

16875442388: Get your own apartment.

16875442388: You were warned.

Ardyn L. C. Izunia: COR !!!

 

 

Ardyn won.

It was kind of brutal.

Aranea left minus her bra and socks.

“How did he do that?” Crowe complained as she struggled back into her cami, glaring at where Ardyn was sitting in only very tight do you want s’more? Boxers sprawled on Cor’s lap and rich as hell. “How did he do that?”

“Two words.” Aranea shrugged unhappily into her sweater, and ticked off fingers on her hand as she spoke. “Boyfriend. Erection. That's his long con; he gets naked, distracts Cor, and then cleans house.”

Crowe looked a little sick.

 

 

I love scarves!!!: Prompto !!!…………...slime man

[CAMERA]: wh

I love scarves!!!: This is awful!…………...slime man

[CAMERA]: what happened mr izunia my dude

I love scarves!!!: Cor hates my Wingdings !…………...slime man

[CAMERA]: no offence my dude

[CAMERA]: but

[CAMERA]: your wingdings kinda suck

I love scarves!!!: Says the boy who texts in Comic Sans like some kind of disgusting heathen !…………...slime man

[CAMERA]: ok that

[CAMERA]: was uncalled for

[CAMERA]: q__q

I love scarves!!!: Good !!!…………...slime man

 

 

Aranea Highwind: COR

16875442388: What?

Aranea Highwind: WHY

Aranea Highwind: IS YOUR BOYFRIEND

Aranea Highwind: TEXTING EVERYONE

Aranea Highwind: IN WINGDINGS

Aranea Highwind: AND HOW DO I STOP IT

16875442388: If you figure out the answer to either one of those questions, please share.

16875442388: Inquiring minds want to know.

Aranea Highwind: DUMP HIM

16875442388: I did.

Aranea Highwind: GOOD.