Sometimes I like to write badfic. Just straight up indulgent bullshit

I don’t know why it happens to me, but there are times when I just let my brain run away with me. I write the kind of whacked out fiction that I have to hide it away and never speak of it to anyone. There’s so much melodrama happening that even as you’re being sucked in, you’re completely embarrassed about it. There’s fanservice and ego and people that couldn’t survive in the real world., yet you totally wish they’re real. It’s somewhat amazeballs.


Walking into the bar, he ordered a beer and found a seat close enough to watch the coming show. After weeks of waiting, he only had to wait another fifteen minutes, time he really didn’t begrudge. The beer was truly excellent here and he kind of liked the dim atmosphere and the low throb of the music.

The door opened with a bang. The players entered with raucous good humor. They were young and carefree. Four men in black and white baseball uniforms, their preppy look slightly worn away from having played a game.

Leaning back in his chair, he kept his eyes carefully focused on the men. He was far enough in the shadows that they wouldn’t notice his close attention. He liked to watch.

“Hey, dude, what’s taking so long?” the tall, muscular blond demanded loudly. He had his arms on the counter and was leaning far forward. It made his uniform pull tight in an interesting manner, highlighting his chest and arms.

Dark felt a smile twist his lips. The entertainment was about to begin.

“Have some patience,” the bartender commanded in a deep voice. He was a big bear of a man with black hair and an improbable, curling black mustache. “You’ll get your beer when I give it to you.”

The blond man settled back on his heels with a sigh and gestured his friends over to a table to wait for him. He got a slap on the back by a skinny redhead with a face full of orangey freckles. “Watch it!” he ordered, pointing his finger.

Dark ran his eyes over his target’s face, deciding that he was attractive enough. The little snubby upturn to his nose was faintly startling, but he had straw blond hair and bright blue eyes to make up for it. And he was physically fit, like a surfer or an underwear model, so clean cut that Dark couldn’t help hoping that his name was Ken.


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