#and it's a great comfort to me that the man is nearly 80 and he can't live forever

[britneyshakespeare]

I just sat w Dickens for a long time on the porch and hugged him and talked to him about how it's all gonna be ok and we all love each other and it felt nice but now that it's over it feels like it wasn't enough

[i-love-you-just-the-same]

john price is a relatively new soccer coach. he retired a few years ago as one if the greats because of an injury. he's worked his way up from assistant to the main man in a relatively short amount of time. his first season had a rough start, but ended up with his team going to the semifinals. price is proud of the progress, but he wants more and is total workaholic. he's gruff and mean, but good at his job.

he has tons of thirst traps on tiktok that johnny occasionally shows him. loves a good pint at the end of game night, but hates coming home to his empty flat.

price is known to be a flirt to journalists and potential sponsors to get the best cut, but he never goes home with any of them. he stays away from fans and anyone who's interested. geninuely thinks he'll never have a sweet thing to come home to after his divorce, and with all the young blood around. low self confidence from his wife's infidelity and how his body has changed in retirement. imagine his surprise when he ends up pursued by you.

---

you end up meeting completely outside of soccer, to his surprise. it's one of those rare moments he gets outside the field. price is working on plays and watching film in his favorite little coffee shop when you bumble up to ask if the seat across was taken. of course price lets you sit.

you're very obviously younger than he is. he's quickly taken by your sweet little smile at him once you notice his blatant staring. quickly calms and rights himself- there's no way you don't have someone at home.

however, you two seem to fall into a routine. john finds himself coming to the coffee shop more often and sharing his table with you. he didn't realize the reprieve he needed from his seemingly 80 hour work week.

maybe it's the narcissism, but price is ready for the rug to be pulled out. at the beginning, he doesn't completely believe that you're not aware of who he is. he's convinced you're an undercover journalist for a tabloid for awhile, but after a visit or two without a page dedicated to him he's quelled his fears.

you're not obvious about wanting more than coffee, but you drop hints to him. there's a new movie you're really wanting to see, he hopes you have a good time with your girlfriends. you want to go for a walk on a new trail, be sure to carry pepper spray. ice cream is really good someplace and you want to try a new flavor, tell him if it's any good. he can see you deflate a bit everytime he refutes you, but he's saving you both from heartache. at least that's what he thinks.

---

one day, price's out with a whiny johnny, cold kyle, and tired simon. he normally wouldn't risk coming by the shop when you could be there with these beasts, but he's desperate and thinks you're busy.

it's a rude sight across the street when he sees you outside the shop with another man. he is close; too close for john's comfort. a lazy hand on your waist with your arms on his shoulders. price nearly faints when you press a sweet little kiss on the fuckers cheek. hell nah, price's face is enough to scare the most hardened war criminal.

as soon as your loverboy walks away, price forgets all about the boys. he walks over to you with a purpose, ignoring the way his heart stutters when you smile at him with flushed cheeks. the smile quickly fades when you see his murderous expression.

"oh! john! it's good to see you! i was just-"

price is in your face, huffing your air, eyes demanding an answer for your supposed infidelity. he doesn't know where this sharp pang of possessiveness has came from, but he's not sure if he wants it to leave.

" wha' you doing with that other bloke, love? this 's our spot. only me you're s'pposed to ask for ice cream, uh huh? don't like it when yur with other men"

he spits the last word, like it's acid in his mouth.

you look up at him with furrowed brows and a harsh blink.

"i don't understand, john"

"mhmm, wrong answer, dolly."

he's worked himself up into a fit now. the boys all watch as he attempts to calm himself, least he scare you.

"love, ever since you sat at that table you've been mine, uh huh? don't be throwing a fit, c'mon, you're the one who was with the other bloke"

anger blurs across your face as he speaks and he knows he's fucked up

"yeah, i can't do anything, huh? you won't do anything with me! you ignore my attempts to get to know you better, john. we share a table, for god's sake, not a house! you're the one who's snubbed me" you're fuming, but still going.

"so what if i want a normal relationship without having to wonder whether the man is actually interested in me? he wants to do things with me, john. can you blame me?"

you're a bit teary at the end, staring up at him with disappointment in your eyes. kyle, johnny, and simon have slipped inside to let you two squabble, but they're watching keenly through the the window.

"love, I-" john starts but you must not like the look on his face, as you interrupt him again

"no, john. i can't keep doing this. find me when you grow some balls of get some sense."

price is tempted to grab you and ask you to listen, but you're already gone. he's left on the pavement with three inquisitive sets of eyes staring through the glass.

---

would you guys be interested in a part 2? feel like i didn't do this idea justice, but ill link if i do another part

[denimbex1986]

"Oh gosh yeah, I mean my father was a huge fan of David Lean's 'Lawrence of Arabia' and in the 80s, they released a director's cut. They had allowed Lean to go in and restore certain scenes, they found footage, he put a lot of care and attention into that in the mid-80s; I think it was actually Spielberg and Scorsese who'd enabled that. So he took me to the movie theater in Chicago, McClurg's it was called, it was the big screen there, to watch it on 70mm, and so I got to have sort of, have the experience that he had had as a, as a young man watching it and no, it was, it was a very special experience and I think movies can do that - they can bring people together in the most extraordinary ways."

"Yeah I think there's a very strong relationship. What I learned on that film was that it's a very helpful, milepost for the audience; it's a helpful signifier of where they're going on the journey and I wanted to use that again. It's technically and aesthetically, it's an enjoyable way to work because the color is reinvigorated every time we come back to it, the black and white is special every time you cut to it. But more than that, it's a very important narrative technique for just trying to orient the audience; Memento was a very complex film, you know, we'll talk backwards and all that - it really helped guide the audience through some feeling of orientation with a complex story. And with Oppenheimer it's a differently complex story but I really want people to feel the difference between when they're watching the color sequences they're in his head; they're seeing just what he saw and experiencing the world the way he saw it. Black and white, we're more in Robert Downey Jr.'s character, Lewis Strauss; we're more in his point of view. We're looking at Oppenheimer from across the room rather than right over his shoulder, and black and white color is a nice sort of subliminal way of, of doing that."

"...a similar approach to the practical, to trying to photograph real world things, to give, you know that first detonation of the atomic bomb was one of the most, must have been one of the most hypnotic and terrifying things; beautiful, terrifying in equal measure, and so we really needed to find a way in this film to represent that in a way that the audience could feel some of that, that extraordinary sense of witnessing that first unleashing of the power of the atom."

"I mean yes, nothing is as positive as catharsis. I mean the thing with Oppenheimer's story uniquely from my other films, and thank you for your kind comments about them, but the reality is that this story uniquely doesn't leave you with anything too comfortable, so yes, it stays with me in, in ways that, in ways that I almost wish it wouldn't - but that's the nature of the story, that's the story we're telling. It's a troubling story and I hope that we've told it in a way that's engaging and it's a strange word, entertainment, it's a strange word to use in relation to this kind of experience but you know that's, that's the point of its engagement and excitement of watching the story, but it leaves you with resonant and troubling questions yes; that's why I wanted to tell the story."

"Well I'm having that experience with my kids at the moment because they're now teenage boys, they're sixteen and nearly eighteen. So I'm having that connection all the time where, you know, I have, I have lists of movies that I very pretentiously think are the best, you know, the best movies ever made, and we sit down and watch them together. Recently, what did we watch? We watched Apocalypse Now recently, like the, the, the you know, the Redux, you know, director's cut, and then what else did we watch? Oh, The Big Lebowski, you know, some of these films that are like, for me, up there, and, and it's great to see them through the eyes of my kids and, and then we have discussions and talk about it, so yeah, movies do that don't they?"

"The - yeah - really good question. The, the, the, the, the pipe and the hat were sort of himself self-mythologizing, you know, they're very conscious decisions. So the hat we, we, we were looking for the hat really, really early, early on in the camera tests. I remember we found one really quickly and both myself and Chris kind of knew instantly that that was the hat. And then, the, with the hands on his sides - I saw a lot of photographs because there's not that much foot- candid footage of him; there's lots of footage of him like giving lectures and talking but it's quite performative, but there's lots of footage - and he seemed to stand with one hand on the hip, one or the other hand on the hip, and there's a lot of pictures of him with Groves doing that, and I thought: 'That's very interesting, that's his sort of default pos -sort of physical stance' so I just used it. You know, these little things can be very helpful; sometimes a character's - sometimes the superficial stuff can really help with the interior stuff, exterior stuff."

"Yeah, that's a really good question. I, I, I, I've always found that in my career like, you can intellectualize and, and go really, really deep into work and it can become very heady and academic but ultimately, when you get in the room with an actor and a director, then it becomes about emotion and heart and instinct, and I think that applies in my game. I've always found if, if you think too much, you can kind of lose it."

[cacti-on-venus]

The Confession Scene - DSMP Knives Out AU

this au belongs to @plagueislost ! I just got inspired and wanted to write out my favorite scene from the movie but with the characters :3 

 I couldn’t make myself make Techno or Niki a Thrombey so they’re the police dudes.

Word Count: 1.6 K words

SPOILERS FOR THE KNIVES OUT ENDING SCENE PLEASE GO WATCH THE MOVIE IT’S REALLY GOOD

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"It's the doctor, I gotta pick this up" Tommy mumbled, turning away as everyone stared at him in anticipation about Tubbo's condition at the hospital. Dream gave Wilbur Soot a glare while Wilbur focused solely on Tommy. The phone recorder still sits on the coffee table next to Soot, numbers changing with the passing seconds

"Yes...doctor that’s great news, we’ll be there soon" the phone call ends, and a wave of relief washes over the tense room. Tommy turns around with a happy grin, shoving the phone into the pocket of his wooly blue cardigan.

"He's okay!" Tommy exclaims happily "He's alive and ready to talk with us" Wilbur smiles and Dream lets out a huff looking away and sinking further into the leather armchair. Lieutenant Techno also seems to release a sigh of relief.

"That's wonderful Toms" Wilbur says as he stands up, patting the blond on the shoulder. He glances over at the still pissed-off man in the green hoodie, still fuming in his armchair.  

"Trooper Niki, if you could go keep Mr. Dream Minecraft in custody while Lieutenant Techno, Tommy, and myself go to the hospital and take Tubbo's statement on the matter" He says. Niki nods, urging the man out of his armchair as Techno gets ready to go out the door. Dream takes a few steps before stopping.

"Huh," he says, turning around to face the blond and narrowing his eyes. Tommy can feel them pierce into his very soul "You know Tommy I'm gonna say it just to you, Tommy. No cameras, just you. And you know it's true." he says taking a step towards him. Tommy takes one step back, trying to not break eye contact.

"We allowed you to worm your way into our home." he says coldly and he's way too close for comfort "We let you look after and help our grandad Philza and we welcomed you into our family as if you were always one of us... and now you think you can steal everything from us?" his voice still manages to sound playful, even when he's threatening. Like a cat with a meek mouse at his mercy.

"This isn’t Tommy’s house, it’s the Minecraft house. Do you think I'm not gonna fight you to protect our home? The disc and book publishing company?  Everything that is rightfully ours?" he asks, getting up into Tommy's face and Tommy struggles to keep looking straight into those green malicious eyes. He takes another step back and nearly hits the metal circle, displaying all of Phil's swords.

"Our ancestral family house Phil built all on his own just for us?" he adds. Wilbur bursts out laughing, everyone looking over at him.

"Oh! Haha! Now, you're just talking shit!" Wilbur says, holding his stomach from the laughter. Tommy can't help but notice Dream's eye twitch at the words. "Phil, y'know he-he helped built it in the 80s but the blueprints were constructed with the help of a very successful architect by the name of Fooli-"

"OOOOHHHH SHUT UP SOOT! SHUT UP!"  Dream yelled throwing his arms in the air, making Tommy flinch. "Shut UP with that fake-ass pretentious British accent of yours! You're from fucking UTAH!" that seems to shut Wilbur up, although he still has a smug smirk on his face which has Dream fuming.

"Yeah so maybe I tried to kill Tubbo, yeah I admit it. So what do you really have on me?"  he says moving towards Wilbur. His eyes dart erratically to everyone in the room. "You got nothing. Some charges of petty arson, some attempted murder charges? With a good lawyer which I have, I'll be out of prison in no time" he laughs before once again targeting Tommy.

"And then Tommy, I'm going to make sure every day for you is a living hell on this Earth, you stupid little shit child" he whispers threateningly. Tommy's stomach churns loudly.

And then he vomits all over Dream, falling to the floor.

Techno and Niki run to his side as he's heaving while Dream is just barely holding himself back in anger and shock. He raises his hand telling them to back off, and he sees the gears in Niki's head turning. She gasps, as the realization hits her.

"Wait... he got sick... so that means he's-!" she yells out and Techno catches on too.

"Lying..." he mumbles. Tommy rubs his mouth with his sleeve and nods.

"That's right bitch! T-Tubbo's..." his voice cracks slightly as he takes in a deep breath. He stands up shakily, glaring at him. "Tubbo's dead. And you, you just confessed to his murder!" he shouts, all eyes now on Dream. Dream's eyes look over to the phone still recording on the coffee table.

It's silent for a while. Dream takes in a deep breath, wiping away pieces of undigested food from his green hoodie. He looks to the floor for a minute before letting out a small chuckle.

"Well...As they say" a vicious smile crosses his face "In for a penny."

Dream grabs at one of the swords from the display, lunging at Tommy before he had the time to react. He stumbles trying to step away in time as Dream grabs him by the collar of his shirt. Tommy thinks he registers Wilbur's shout, maybe Niki gasp. But it all felt muffled as he fell.

But when he hit the ground, he felt no pain.

Dream looked equally confused, glancing at the sword. But as he tried to stab Tommy again, the blade only retracted into the handle.   Tommy glanced back to Dream who looked nearly as pale as he did.

"Shit-" he managed to whisper out, before Techno pulled Dream off Tommy, cuffing his hands behind his back. Tommy took in desperate breaths as he tried to calm down, still lying on the floor where he fell. Everything...all was too much. A tear fell from his eyes as he looked at the wooden ceiling. He could almost hear Phil's voice ring in his ears from beyond the grave.

"Dream could never tell a real sword from a fake."

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"How are you holding up Toms?" Wilbur's voice snapped Tommy out of his thoughts as he sat in the armchair upstairs, a green blanket draped over his shoulders and a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows in his hands. From the faint sound of steps, he could hear the family all getting ready to leave the premises. He still doesn't know how to feel about that.

"Dunno. Okay, I guess..." he mumbles, taking a sip. Wilbur gives him a knowing look, walking up to the armchair in front of him and taking a seat. He takes out a cigarette lighting it. Tommy lets out a soft sigh.

"...How the fuck did you know it was me?" he asks and Wilbur blinks. He gives him the cheeky smile he always has on his face.

"Well...From the moment I first saw you." he points the cigarette at his shoes and Tommy looks down. He squints and his eyes widen as he notices a single drop of blood on his shoes, just between the shoelaces.

"Fuckin hell..." he says. He's tired, he's exhausted. This entire mystery has been one chaotic nightmare with him standing in the middle, pushed around like a chessboard piece. He barely even got the time to mourn Phil's death. Wilbur sighs and puts out the cigarette in the nearby ashtray, somehow having finished it already. He gives him a comforting look, that Tommy can't decide whether to hate or not.

"Y'know, there's one thing I want you to remember Tommy," Wilbur says as he places a hand on Tommy's shoulder. The blond reluctantly meets his eyes "Som-something very important, alright?" And Tommy hangs onto his every word.

"You won this game, not by playing Phil's way, but yours," he says softly and Tommy lets out a breath, hanging his head. Wilbur ruffles his blond hair and grins wider.

"You're a good person, Toms. Don’t forget it"  he stands up, grabbing his old khaki coat off the nearby coathanger. Tommy grabs at his hair with his hand, all the frustration, stress, and grief catching up to him. These past few days were hard to process.

"This family..." he rests his head in the palm of his hand, the other tightening his grip on the mug in his hand. Wilbur pauses looking back at him

"Ranboo, Schlatt, Connor, Sapnap, all of them, they..." he says with despair, looking back at Wilbur who looks at him with those kind brown eyes. They remind him of Phil in a way. "They...I mean...I should help them, right...?" he manages to get out. Wilbur frowns, scratching the side of his head.

"I have my... opinions," he says with a nervous laugh before looking up at him with the same comfort as before "but I get the feeling you'll follow what your heart says is right anyway" he waves as he leaves the room, a small 'see ya toms' as he makes his way down the hallway.

It feels like forever as he sits there, staring into nothing. Eventually, he stands up and walks out of the room, making his way to the balcony, and passing by Phil's portrait. He doesn't know if it's a trick of an eye paired with his grief, but he swears he can see the painting smile down at him for a second before it turns stoic again.

As he stands on the balcony, he watches the family gather around their cars, and upon noticing him they all look back at him, a blank look on all of their faces. They stare for a while.

Tommy takes a sip of his hot chocolate and goes back inside.

[xavierkhalil]

"My Little Soapbox!"

 Every day I am noticing how artificial everything is beginning to feel in the world. I don’t think it’s me dissociating or being delusional, but nothing quite feels real anymore. However, what’s crazy is I see the reality but its crazy everything happening is occurring in our lifetime. Allow me to explain.

There has been nearly a year-long genocide happening in the Gaza where innocent Palestinian lives have been taken. The United States being one of the main funders in the war. A felon is being allowed to run for president, and he is supported by so many which is baffling. Even the folks who KNOW he doesn’t have their best interest are endorsing his presidency. The economy is not at its best. All news nowadays is bad news. Books and other forms of curriculum are being banned to make “the majority” of students remain comfortable rather than restricting gun laws for the safety of ALL students. And even the food is beginning to taste different. But what’s scarier is I am now finding myself feeling stuck in my advocacy. I am struggling with being real in a world where everything seems so fake.

The older I got, the more I was able to see it for what it really is, but something about 2024 has been extremely enlightening. Ignorance is better received and strongly supported than truth sometimes. There is a battle of power when it comes to preserving privilege for a few that brings harm to the majority. Consciousness and morality are often dismissed from conversations. Money is more treasured than humanity, and there seems to be an increasing lack of compassion for our fellow man. People are dying and saying they cannot “afford” to get sick because of a poor healthcare system. Hell, people are having to work nearly 80 hours a week, just to keep up with living expenses and pay debts. I’m talking about myself in the last part.

We know how we found ourselves here. I don’t have time to give a historical lesson on these things. It always goes back to slavery, colonization, and the failed promises of politicians vowing to learn from history rather than repeating it. We have and still are repeating history and sometimes I think did we ever learn or did we just find a new way to inconvenience less while still hurting others. All of this got me thinking to myself, “What do I stand for, and how authentic am I in it?” I have been on a hiatus for some time now, and I miss the days when a fire burned in me to make a change. Like I explained to someone, I did it out of anger before, but this time I m trying to lead in love.

Don’t misinterpret, all of the discriminatory and hateful acts happening to people all across the globe pisses me off, but sometimes a rally protest or speaking out on social media doesn’t feel like it’s enough. And, honestly, I am tired of having conversations with people who are willfully ignorant. When it comes to things that require the people to come together as a collective, which is millions of us, I have little faith in our ability to make the right choice for the future of our world. I can do my part in it, yes, but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough.

Overall, I am sick of politicians jeopardizing the future of our country and the world just to maintain the status-quo. Let’s be honest, the status-quo we know today has not always existed, and the reason all these reversions are taking place is because people see the status-quo slowly eradicating. This is good, great even. It was born out of a way to build a global hierarchy, and since the dawn of its philosophy, it has been successful. However, we have spent more time than it took to create it dismantling it, and it’s not quite dismantled just restructured.

In total, our country has come too far to revert back to the 1950’s. We have a requirement to vote and vote correctly. We cannot just vote for what benefits us, but what is in the best interest of our nation as a whole. Beyond that we have to advocate for the rights of all people, and acknowledge that protecting people’s rights doesn’t take away your privileges. In an artificial world, let’s be real about the crises we’re in. Let’s be real about the things we say we care about and advocate for them. I am being authentically intentional in advocacy, and I can only hope that others are showing up the same.  

[mybloodyvalentyne]

holding out for a hero - dick grayson x reader

Words: 1278

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

Warnings: poorly translated arabic.

Summary: Nightwing and Y/N combat boredom on an uneventful patrol with some good ‘ol 80′s pop. 

---

It was an uncharacteristically quiet evening in Gotham city. You sat next to Dick on the ledge of a downtown building, the pair of you dangling your legs off the side and bumping knees together absentmindedly every now and then. These nights were rare, when the constant steel roar of the city below seemingly fell quiet, and you cherished them immensely.

Dick was humming a familiar tune, as he often did while on patrols to occupy his mind. As soon as it dawned on you what it was, you snorted, turning to look at him quizzically.

"I didn't take you for a Bonnie Tyler fan," you jested.

He laughed, lifting his hands up in innocence. "What? Footloose is a great movie, sue me."

"Whatever you say, pal."

"Isn't there a white knight, upon a fiery steed?" he began to sing out loud now, only half-serious, but his voice was pleasant nonetheless. Slightly gravelly, but unexpectedly polished. He wasn't even trying. But that was Dick for you, a man who kept many talents up his sleeve and thought nothing of them. You squeaked in surprise as he suddenly pulled you to your feet, lacing his fingers through yours. It was enough to make your cheeks burn.

"Every night, I toss and I turn, and I dream of what I need."

You couldn't help but throw your head back in a deep, genuine laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, two widely-respected (and feared, for that matter) vigilantes, dressed in your full combat gear, dancing on a rooftop and singing some cheesy radio hit from the 80's. Dick's eyes lit up at the sight of your laughter, though you couldn't see it behind his mask. He edged closer to you, and spun you around by your arm. This was his absolute favorite, these little stolen moments-- getting to see you this way, so relaxed, allowing yourself to be silly and free-spirited and comfortable with him. Though you and Dick weren't technically an item, everyone in the manor knew you two were obsessed with each other, practically connected at the hip, to the point that it had become something of a running inside joke. It was just so...obvious. Well, obvious to everyone save the two of you, or so it would seem. Everyone was practically just sitting back and waiting for the day you two idiots would finally just fess up to each other.

"I need a hero! I'm holding out for a hero 'till the end of the night!" 

The pair of you practically shouted the lyrics in unison, nearly forgetting to keep your voices down beneath the clamor of the traffic below. Dick moved his hands from your arms to your waist, leaning down to playfully dip you in his strong arms. When he pulled you back up, you found yourself just a tiny bit too close to his face. He had that damn cocky playboy grin of his plastered across his lips, one only a son of Bruce Wayne could conjure up, and it was just too much for you to bear. It was like looking into the sun. You found yourself shrinking away from his touch, continuing to sing along as you tiptoed across the ledge of the building.

"He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast, and he's gotta be fresh from the fight." 

It was only now that you began to notice the muffled voices coming through on the comms. You adjusted the volume in your earpiece to hear what was going on.

"Please, at least have the basic decency to turn off your mics if you're going to engage in that repulsive wailing." Damian's familiar voice rang in your ear with a growl.

Jason groaned. “God, I hate you both for making me agree with the brat.”

Meanwhile, Tim only gave you a half-hearted reproach, all the while sounding like he was trying to stifle a laugh. 

"C'mon, guys, you're really getting-- hah, you're getting way off task here."

Dick followed suit behind you, turning the dial on his earpiece all the way off with a click. He didn't care what his brothers had to say right now-- his only focus was you. He caught up with you, seizing your wrist again and pulling you flush against him. You giggled, finding yourself unable to resist his antics this time.

"I need a hero, I'm holding out for a hero 'til the morning light."

Was... was he getting closer to you? You receded from the discordance of your failed harmonies as Dick continued, his voice growing softer and his lips nearly touching your neck. You could feel his breath, warm and soft against your cool skin.

"He's gotta be sure and it's gotta be soon, and he's gotta be larger than life..."

"Um, Nightwing," You uttered, your words sounding a bit meeker than you would have liked them to. He brought his face up to yours, dragging the tip of his nose along your jawline as he did so. Your heart nearly leapt from the confines of your chest. 

"Can I..." Dick trailed, already tilting his head as he slowly drew closer to your mouth. You obliged, parting your lips and allowing him to crash down onto you. The kiss was so gentle, yet so hungry. You both had wanted this for so long. His muscular arms snaked around the small of your back, pulling you as close as possible, and your fingers cradled the back of his neck, ensnaring themselves in his dark locks.

"Oh my god. Are they..?" Tim chimed in over the comms with a lighthearted laugh. Dick was oblivious to this, but you still had your earpiece turned on and could hear everything. 

"Fucking finally," Jason sighed. "The sexual tension at breakfast was starting to get out of hand."

"Damn, it's been like a full minute. Are they going to come up for air, or what?" Tim said.

"Kulukum aghbia," Damian hissed, his words followed by the abrupt click of switching off his comms.

"Aw, little man's just tight because he hasn't had his first kiss yet," Jason chortled.

You finally pulled away from Dick, the two of you flushed and heaving to catch your breath. If only you could have seen the look in his eyes behind his mask-- it was so pure, so full of love and excitement. Even so, you could tell that he was lit up like a little kid on Christmas and it just made you want to pull him in again. You stopped yourself, though, remembering that you did still have a job to to. Dick, still holding you in his arms, clicked his earpiece back on just in time to hear Bruce's gruff baritone ringing out over the channel.

"All of you-- stop messing around. You're still on patrol."

You and Dick looked over at each other with a kind of sheepish glee, knowing you were definitely in trouble but finding it too funny to really care all that much.

"I think we're in for it when we get home," you said in a hushed giggle, nudging him with your arm.

He laughed heartily in response, slinging his arm over your shoulder.

"Oh, yeah. Without a doubt." 

He pressed another soft kiss to your temple. Bruce's inevitable lecture about professionalism aside, this would most certainly get you teased by Dick's brothers for the next three months at least. But none of that mattered to you right now-- the only thing that mattered is that you were in love with your best friend, and he loved you right back. Maybe Footloose isn't such a bad movie, after all.

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.1

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.2

Beautiful artwork was created by @starstruck-loner​! THANK YOU SO MUCH SWEETIE I LOVE IT!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

Snow freckled the chilly January day lightly, like powdered sugar over a freshly baked pastry, sticking to each layer effortlessly and creating a blanket that completely covered the woods and the cabin nested between the trees. The atmosphere was still and stiff, like frozen icicles that were not going to start dripping any time soon. The air was bitter and unwelcoming, which was probably why no living thing was outside today. Today was the perfect day to burrow and sleep and keep warm with your own body heat.

A crack through space-time cut through the air. The crushing of tiny ice particles followed as two twelve-year-olds ran, one chasing the other, as the time-tape was heating up and buzzing. “This thing is getting hotter! Hot! Hot, hot, hot!” Mabel attempted to save her palms from burns by bouncing the tiny machine between her hands.

“What are you doing?!” Dipper demanded as Mabel bounced the tape-measure too hard and her twin reached a hand to catch it. He managed to catch it perfectly, like an athlete catching a baseball, and then was gone in a flash of baby-blue lightning.

Mabel’s eyes widened in sheer panic and she held her arms as a gust of wind blew and nearly froze her to her core. It felt like her skin was being pricked by mean sewing needles. She looked around wildly for her brother, for him to come back to this time and place immediately, because surely he would use the time machine to come back, but seconds ticked by and she was still alone.

Puffs of smoke decorated the wintry scene as she held her shivering body and looked at the shack. It wasn’t as colorful and welcoming and loud as the shack Mabel remembered, but she made herself consider that it was because there was no big sign or tourist-y things, and it was winter. Then a light turned on, the hall if Mabel remembered her summer home correctly, and the door opened.

The hope that Mabel had in her chest of seeing her great-uncle was gone, and replaced with fear and confusion. This man looked very much like Stan, though much younger, quite chubby and youthful, wearing a black t-shirt and blue plaid pajama-pants. He had the same face as a young-Stan, but with a more pink than orange nose, a cleft chin, fluffier hair that reminded Mabel of her’s when it was short, and different glasses. 

Mabel didn’t know what to do or how to react or how to feel. People change a lot when they age, sure, but this much? It was possible this person wasn’t Stan, but who else would look so similar to him and live in this house? Maybe this is the guy who lived here before Stan, and they just happen to look very similar. This is Gravity Falls, and though she and Dipper were still new to the town, it was a weird place where something like this could happen.

It also came to Mabel how odd the situation was for the man: a little girl was standing in a sweater and skirt outside his house in the winter. Would he try to send her home? She had no home to go to. She didn’t know what year this was, but if it was a time Stan didn’t live here, it must have been way before she was born, maybe even before her parents met. She was stranded.

But the man looked at her sympathetically and he seemed kind and worried. He grabbed a trenchcoat and called gently, “Hello. Are you okay?”

Mabel bit her lip. His voice was definitely not Grunkle Stan’s. A gust of wind made her shiver and her teeth chatter, and the man stepped into some slippers and walked up to her, draping the trenchcoat over her shoulders. “There there, that’s a very nice sweater, but it doesn’t seem to be keeping you warm, is it?”

“N-No.” Mabel shivered. “I… I used breathable yarn for…” She stopped. She was going to say how she used breathable yarn for the warm California weather, but she decided not to.

“You used?” The man repeated, rubbing her shoulders to try to make the trenchcoat work faster. “You made this?”

Mabel saw his excited grin and she smiled nervously. “Y-Yeah. I knit sweaters.”

The man bent his knees in front of her and studied her sweater. She held out an arm so he could see and his brown eyes sparkled. “That’s very impressive! I love sweaters!”

Mabel gasped happily. “C-C-Can I m-make you one?!”

The man looked taken back, but chuckled and stood. “Of course, but first let’s get you warm. How does hot chocolate sound?”

“Y-Yes, p-p-please.” Mabel shivered, and allowed the man to walk her into the house.

It was scaringly like the Mystery Shack, but so much was different. It was the same layout, the same house, but there was so much that was different. A coat rack stood by the door, holding a white lab coat with black rubber gloves in the pocket, some safety goggles like the ones in Mabel’s science classes, and Stan’s fez. Mabel stared at it. Well, okay it probably wasn’t Stan’s fez, but it was a maroon fez with a golden fish and a black tassle. 

There was a wood-burning stove alive in the living room, with a small box full of wood by it and a tiny stool. Instead of Grunkle Stan’s armchair, there was a red-velvet couch, a large writing desk, and the room was decorated with books, desks, papers, and jars and experiments. It was all strange, but warm and cozy with the fire going.

Mabel smiled as the man pulled out the tiny stool and gestured for her to sit by the stove. She obeyed and the coat was removed from her shoulders, but quickly replaced with a dark-green blanket.

“There, do you mind warming up here while I make your hot chocolate?” He asked, draping his trenchcoat over his arm.

Mabel shook her head and held her cold hands in front of the stove. “Thank you.”

The man smiled. “You’re welcome.” And he turned and left for where Mabel knew the kitchen was.

Sitting alone and feeling better as her body was getting warm, Mabel thought it all over. This man was clearly not her Grunkle Stan, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t nice or couldn’t help her. Any minute Dipper was going to come back for her, but until then she had to stay where she was. That’s what grown-ups told her to do if she was ever lost. Stay where you are until you’re found.

By the time Mabel was very comfortable, the man returned with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and handed one to the girl. “Here you are, my dear.”

“Thank you, sir.” Mabel sipped and hummed in delight as the man sat on the floor next to her.

“You’re very welcome.” He sipped his drink and added, “Now then, I have to ask, what were you doing out there? Did you get lost?”

Mabel’s face dropped and she nodded. “Uh, huh.”

“Hm, very well. That can easily happen when playing on a snow day.” The man said with a smile. “Why don’t I call our parents and we can arrange to have you back home safe?”

Mabel swallowed nervously. She bit her lip, looking down at her mug. She didn’t know what to say to that.

The man looked at her and noticed how scared she was. “Is something wrong?”

Mabel looked up at him, was met with a kind face, and whimpered, “I can’t call them.”

The man smiled sympathetically. “I’m sure you won’t get into too much trouble. Maybe a little, but it’s for the best to call them so we can get you home soon.”

Mabel shook her head and squeezed her stinging eyes shut. “They’re… not around.”

The man’s face dropped as Mabel scrubbed at her eyes. “Oh. I’m so sorry.”

Mabel only replied with a sniff and she sipped her hot chocolate.

“Is there someone I can call for you?” The man asked. “I’m sure there’s someone out there worried about you.”

Mabel bit her lip. “M-My brother… He’s still out there…”

“Is he lost, too?”

Mabel shrugged.

“Well,” The man held his cleft chin in thought. “I’m sure he’s out there looking for you. Perhaps then you should wait here until he comes here, and then we can send you to your guardian.”

“It’s just us.” Mabel muttered. “Just us.”

The man smiled. Mabel hoped he believed her brother was much older than her, or at least old enough to take care of her. That way she wasn’t really lying, just letting this man believe what he wanted to believe. Nothing wrong with that. “Okay. Still, you may stay here until he finds you.”

Mabel sniffed and wiped her nose with her sweater sleeve. “Thank you, sir.”

“Please, call me Ford.” He said and held out a hand to her.

Mabel smiled and shook his hand. “I’m Mabel.”

“Mabel, huh? That’s a beautiful name.”

“Thanks.” She looked down at their hands and her eyes widened. One, two, three, four, five, s-...

Ford pulled his hand free, his cheeks reddening as he sipped his hot chocolate, but Mabel was grinning at him happily and she gasped with joy, “You have six fingers?!”

Ford blinked at her, reminding Mabel of a startled owl, and he cleared his throat. “Um, y-yes. It’s a birth defect.”

“Nuh, huh! It’s cool! Can I see, please?” Mabel sat her mug on the floor by her feet.

The researcher didn’t like people staring at his hands, but this young girl wanted to look, it appears, in admiration, so Ford hesitantly gave her his hands and she held them lovingly, her eyes sparkling like stars.

“Wow! That’s neat! No wonder your hand shake was so friendly! It’s a whole finger friendlier than normal!” Mabel was then reminded that Dipper’s journal had a six-fingered hand on it.

The girl’s eyes widened as she wondered if she was meeting Dipper’s idol. It was possible. The journal Dipper had dated it in the 80s, and Dipper said that the author mysteriously disappeared. As exciting as it was to meet the Author of the Journals, all it did was put Mabel more at ease. If anyone can help her, he can.

Ford laughed and gave her hands a soft squeeze. “I like you! You’re weird.”

Mabel grinned, distracted from her thoughts and grateful for it. “I like you, too, Ford!”

[anerdquemoraaolado]

Grains of Sand by the Shore

Chapter 12

Willing to get her hands dirty and guarantee a corner that was her own, just like, Shuri walked alone to the beach carrying wood and rope, starting to create a structure from scratch. Tiredness eventually got the better of her and she asked her handmaidens to summon the equivalent of builders to serve her queen. The men were very honored and following her instructions after a long day of work, the place was ready. Perhaps the Talokani had more strength and endurance than ordinary humans, such was their speed.

 Thoroughly grateful, she made a point of saying how grateful she was for their help. She came up with the idea of rewarding them with the same meal she had that morning, full and tasty. They nearly refused, but using her authority, she declared it was their queen's command. So they sat down and ate with her, fascinated by her generosity, by the clear appreciation she had for being around them.

 “I want to thank you again for what you did, it turned out faster than I expected, you have no idea what this place means to me “ she explained admiringly.

 “If you allow me, great lady, what do you intend to build here? “ one of the workers dared to ask, even feeling shy and even bold.

 “Ah, it's going to be my personal laboratory “ Shuri said happily “ I had one in Wakanda, I mean, I do, I can visit it, but I wanted one here in my new home, to keep myself busy, to help you with whatever you need and learn from you too.

 “My queen, you already know so much, what else is there to learn?” another of the men asked.

 “There's always something new to learn, and Talokan is still a mystery to me “ she took a deep breath “ I want to see how your houses work, your technology, get to know all of you more closely.

 “Your presence would honor us greatly, my queen “ the eldest commented on her gesture of kindness.

 Shuri nodded, feeling that she was saying and doing the right thing. She finally said goodbye to them, adopting the gesture of open hands, not forgetting her arms across her chest. She would always be part of both peoples now.

 Inside the hut, she considered the good work the talokani had done. Without further ado, she activated her kimoyo beads and addressed Griot.

 “Hello, Griot, it's me, are you active? “ she commanded the AI.

 "Active and operating, Queen Shuri, I hope all is well after your wedding," said Griot, taking note of the latest developments.

 “Well, thank you I guess “ she replied to that distractedly “ I want you to organize the research and communication structures that were set up here, activate them now.

 “As you wish, queen “ agreed the AI, getting to work.

 Being called by that title still made her shudder, it was kind of weird remembering the fact that she was now a sovereign. Letting it go, she waited for Griot to complete his spell.

 “80% installed, 90% active and operational “ he confirmed.

 “Yes, thanks! “ celebrated Shuri, starting to test the holograms, her highly equipped technological navigation system had been successfully installed, the familiarity of the situation was comforting.

 What dampened her excitement was the fact that there was no one around to show off her feat. She thought of Namor, who had been absent all the time when they were supposed to be spending time together. On the other hand, she couldn't blame him, he was the king after all.

 Taking a deep breath, she decided to pay her kingdom a visit. She allowed herself to pass by the people, who found her approach strange at first, but finally welcomed her, even more so after the morning workers had approached her.

 “Your Majesty, Talokan appreciates your visit “ Kimjayo, the oldest worker, greeted her “ to what do we owe your glorious presence?

 “Oh nothing much, to be honest, I felt lonely, my husband is doing things that needed his attention “ Shuri clarified, not knowing for sure if that was the most recommended thing to do.

 "I hope your lab worked out," the man commented.

 "Ah yes, it's working perfectly," she confirmed.

 Shuri was then moved by her curiosity, swimming towards the next group that was nearby, women braiding ornaments mixed with ropes and pearls, a delicate and perfect work. This time, she just smiled in approval.

 She saw fishermen returning with their nets full, even carrying their food supply. The group of kids she noticed next didn't realize she was there, very competitive and focused on their ball game. They swam frantically trying to steal it from each other, you could see that there were two teams. The ball went through the hoop, an act she understood as a point scored.

 “Very well, congratulations! “ she shouted, which woke up the children.

 Recognizing who was watching their game, they showed their trembling little palms to her, surrendering in fear.

 “Don't be like that, it's okay, I was just admiring the game, I won't bother you anymore  “ Shuri laughed sweetly and waved goodbye.

 She realized that perhaps she had spent a good deal of time there, surveying the daily lives of her people. It pleased her to know and see that they were all right. Returning to the lab, she saw that the place was not as empty as she had left it. Namor watched everything around him, impressed.

 "Hi," she said casually, hoping not to startle him.

 “Hello”he returned the greeting”I was admiring your work, it's magnificent what you did.

 “Oh thank you, I didn't do it alone “ Shuri felt embarrassed all of a sudden.

 “I see, your talking device told me about the help you had and how everything works “ he replied “ by the way, thank you for allowing me to enter here, there were no restrictions or anything like that.

 "Of course, you're the king and my husband, it seemed like a natural choice." She shrugged.

 “I hope you've finished your chores, I'd like to talk to you “ he warned, which made her alert.

 “You can talk, what happened? “ she was attentive to what would come next.

 “Attuma told me that guards told him that they saw you walking around the city, alone, close to the people, is that true? “ he asked, not sounding angry, just eager for answers.

 “Yes, I did, did I get in any trouble for it? “ she hoped she hadn't started a fight.

 “I don't think so, it's just that being present so closely in the daily life of our people is not a custom of a sovereign “ he mentioned the question “ I explained that to you the day we got married.

 “I know, Namor, I'm sorry, I don't want to infringe your traditions, but it doesn't seem right to be distant, even more so as a foreigner, I need to show that their queen is reliable, that's just my attention when I approach “ Shuri approached  him as she spoke “ I don't see myself as a distant idol, I can be their protector and counselor, but not unapproachable.

 "They received you with trepidation, even so," Namor added to the conversation.

 “That's true, but then I managed to break the ice and we got along well “ she rolled her eyes when she saw his strange face “ undo the embarrassment. Look, Namor, Talokan never had a queen and maybe because of that, I have the right to create new traditions and this new thing can be good.

 Shuri was in anticipation of his answer while her husband reflected on what she had said. She was right, he had brought Shuri there and shown her the kingdom, it was logical that she would continue to see it more closely, even more as its queen. Surrendered to his wife once more, he decided to consider it.

 “You're right, I won't be mad at you for that”he looked at her as he spoke, contemplating her face very closely, taking on the urge to touch it with affection.

 “Thank you “ Shuri felt relieved, on the point of giving him a sudden hug.

 The gesture surprised Namor, but he responded, patting her back.

 “Tell me how your visit was “ he finally asked, in a very good”humored tone.

 He spent the rest of the day and most of the night listening to Shuri and details of her, almost in a trance. He concluded that she was as good for Talokan as she was for him.

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

You’re All I Want - Shinsou Hitoshi

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Rating: 18+ (Smut) Words: 5,073 Pairing: Shinsou Hitoshi/F!Reader (Aged up/Pro Hero) Warnings: Oral (Male receiving), Oral (Female receiving), vaginal sex, pet names. AN: Here is my entry for this month’s BNHarem NSFW collab! Special thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku​ for supporting me as usual and listening to me ramble on about my favorite purple boy. Title taken from a song by Cigarettes After Sex because I am soft today. We all had the same starter for this collab, so it’s important to read that first so you understand the set up! (It’s kind of like a choose your own adventure!)

Collab Masterlist (IMPORTANT: READ THIS FIRST)

My Masterlist Buy Me a KoFi?

----

Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, shucking off the mask onto the ground beside you. It wasn’t like they’d be able to see your face back here, or you hoped not, and the thing was itchy.

There hadn’t been much instruction on what to do, so you decided to make yourself comfortable on the pillows and wait in the near darkness, feeling a little annoyed that they’d taken your phone, even though you understood why. 

You gazed through the hole, trying to see if you could make out anything on the other side. You could hear music, the slightly muffled guitar from some classic rock playing for the party guests made you giggle a bit. Blowing some random hero while listening to 80’s hair metal through a hole in the wall was not how you had been picturing spending your Saturday night, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Before you could dwell on that anymore, you heard a sharp knocking on the wall, the light coming from the hole in the wall suddenly cut off when someone stepped in front of it. You had a feeling this was your cue. 

You shuffled over on your knees, grabbed a bottle of water, unscrewed the cap, took a sip, and tried to ignore how much your hands were shaking. You knew what you were doing. This wasn’t your first time sucking a cock. The situation was different, of course, but if you closed your eyes, you could just pretend it was someone else, right? 

Letting your mind wander, you wet your lips when the man on the other side of the wall shoved his dick through the hole, starting with kitten licks and light sucks on the tip. You closed your eyes and thought about the object of most of your fantasies, pretending it was him sitting heavy on your tongue, bracing your hand on the wall in front of you as you used the other to grab the base of the man’s cock and pump him slowly.

Being a barista wasn’t the most exciting job, but your regular customers somehow made things seem less dull. One man in particular always had you vibrating with excitement the moment he walked through the door. He usually strolled in during the mid-morning, his purple hair defying gravity, his face holding the look of someone who didn’t get enough sleep. He did always manage a small smirk in your direction when you greeted him, already working on his preferred drink order before he could even open his mouth. Black coffee with a double shot of espresso and a blueberry muffin. He never strayed or asked for anything different. 

He would pay for his order and then lean his hip against the counter on the far end, arms crossed over his chest as he kept his eyes trained on you. It made you feel hot all over, your mouth dry and your thighs clenching as he watched you work, his apparent interest in you making you feel exposed and raw. You had half a mind to grab him by his shirt and drag him over the counter so you could press your lips to his, the sexual tension that his gaze created nearly driving you mad.

But as always, you would walk over and slide him his drink and pastry bag, biting your lip and looking up at him from under your eyelashes, wishing him a good day. He would always give you another once over, and sometimes his fingers would brush yours as he took his breakfast, his deep voice rumbling in thanks. He would smirk at you again before turning and walking out of the shop, leaving you to melt into a puddle of sexually frustrated goo behind the counter.

You’d entertained the idea of writing your number on his cup, wondering if he would text you, imagining what he would say if you asked him out sometime. It was a shame you were too nervous about doing anything other than flirting over the counter, too scared even to attempt to hold a conversation with him. You’d have to resort to using your overactive imagination to your advantage for the task at hand.

With the music still blaring in the other room, you could just barely hear the man on the other side of the wall moaning as his cock twitched in your mouth, your tongue gliding over the vein on the underside while you hollowed your cheeks around him. Humming, you took him as deep as you could, feeling triumphant when you felt him shudder, thick ropes of cum shooting into your mouth. 

You pulled off and spit into the nearby trash can, going back to lick the man clean, and then chugging on your water bottle. As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone, and the hole was empty once again. Sitting back, you sighed. That hadn’t been as bad as you thought it would be, though you figured it was probably because your mind was elsewhere. You just needed to keep this up for the rest of the night, and then you’d collect your giant wad of cash and be on your way.

--

Hours passed, men came (literally) and went, and your jaw was starting to feel sore. You had no idea how much longer you had, but you’d been putting forth your best skills while thinking about the purple-haired coffee man to pass the time. 

There was a knock on the wall, so you sat up from where you were slumped against it, grabbed another water bottle, wet your mouth, and got ready to go back to work. Since your eyes had adapted to the darkness of the room, you’d been trying to get a good look at the different dicks that had been shoved through the hole as the night progressed. You’d yet to be disappointed, and men at this party were giving you unrealistic expectations for real life. The one that was in front of you now, however, was probably the nicest and one of the biggest you’d seen so far.

Suddenly feeling eager to prove to yourself that you could handle the size of it, you shuffled forward on your knees and wrapped your hand around it, stroking slowly and letting your tongue poke out to lick at the bead of precum that had already gathered at the tip. The music fading from one song and into the next in the other room allowed you to hear the groan of pleasure coming from the man, your ears perking up, and legs clenching together. 

His voice was deep, just like the man in every one of your fantasies. You’d made yourself cum just thinking about that voice whispering in your ear, low and thick like honey, praising you for taking his cock so well, growling and moaning about how good your pussy felt around him. You let your eyes close, humming and focusing all your efforts into giving this man the best blow job of his life, picturing purple hair and a sharp jawline, smirking lips caught between straight teeth, bulging biceps and long fingers. You wished you could feel his fingers in your hair as you took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and rolling your tongue around his length, practically choking around him as tears gathered in your eyes.

You swore you heard that voice again, a drawn-out curse coming from the other side of the wall as his cock twitched in your mouth and he came, and for the first time all night, you swallowed all he had to give you, too caught up in the moment to worry about spitting it in the trash. 

Before you knew what was happening, he was gone, not even letting you clean him up. You fell back, gasping for air and trying to figure out what happened. Your cunt was throbbing, and your chest was heaving as you reached blindly for the water bottle beside you. Did you do something wrong? He seemed to have been enjoying himself, but it was hard to tell with the wall between you.

You didn’t have much time to dwell on it, though, because there was a knock from the door you’d entered the room from, and suddenly the girl who had led you back here was standing there, smiling at you. “Are you doing okay?”

Nodding, you stood up. “Yeah, am I done?”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the door frame. “That depends. Do you want to make a little extra?”

Eyebrows furrowed, you frowned. “What? How?”

“Someone is requesting you for some special one on one time if you’re interested. It would involve more than just a blow job, so if you’re okay with that, I can take you to the bathroom and then to the room he’s rented for you.”

Your eyes widened, mouth suddenly dry. “Someone requested me?”

Chuckling, she shot you a grin. “You impressed him. He was insistent about it being you, so you must have given him the best head of his life or something.” 

Biting your lip, you deliberated. You had promised yourself not to get too involved with this world. It was supposed to be quick and easy money. 

“If it helps, it was the last guy you were just with, like not even 10 minutes ago.” 

The man with the deep voice and giant cock. Well, fuck.

“I...yeah. Okay.”

“Great!” She clapped her hands. “Grab your mask and follow me. I’ll take you to the bathroom so you can brush your teeth, then I’ll bring you to the private room.”

You nodded, picking up the mask and putting it back on your face, concealing your identity again. You followed her from the room and to a bathroom, a sealed toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste on the sink. You used the bathroom quickly, brushing your teeth and checking your eyeliner, before slipping the mask back down over your eyes and stepping back into the hallway. 

She led you into an elevator and then down a hallway, stopping in front of a closed door before turning to you. “You’re not obligated to do anything you don’t want to do. There are condoms, and there is lube in the top drawer of the table next to the bed. If you feel unsafe or uncomfortable for any reason, there will be a guard outside the door to keep watch, and you can get their attention if you need help, just in case.”

Suddenly nervous, you nodded again.

“I know this guy, though, and he’s a good man. You don’t have anything to worry about. When you’re done, the guard will bring you back downstairs so you can collect your pay and your things, okay?” She offered you a calming smile. “Have fun!”

You didn’t say anything, offering her a weak smile in return before turning your attention to the door. Your palms were sweaty as you reached out to grasp the handle, pushing it open. Taking a deep breath, you walked inside and closed it behind you.

When your eyes met with the amethyst ones on the other side of the room, your heart stopped.

“Uh, hi.” He stepped forward, his hands in his pockets. You took in the way he bit down on his bottom lip, eyes traveling down over the black button-up shirt he was wearing, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, the glint of the watch on his wrist in the table lamp light spilling across the hotel room.

It was him, the object of your every desire, and he was standing there looking at you nervously, his hair sticking up attractively as usual.

“Black coffee, double shot espresso, blueberry muffin.” You said dumbly, your mouth moving before your brain could process what you were saying.

“I...what? How do you know my breakfast order?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused. 

Pulling off your mask, you shook out your hair and stared at him, not sure what else to say. You felt completely out of your depth, and it was taking everything in you not to throw yourself forward and kiss him.

“Holy shit.” Letting out a breath, he started moving toward you again. “It’s you.”

When he stopped moving, he was so close that you had to tilt your head back to look up at him. You couldn’t believe your luck. Remembering what the girl had told you, you shivered. When you’d heard that low voice through the wall, you’d thought of him, but to know that it actually was him was a whole different thing. “I didn’t know you were a hero.”

Your eyes slid closed when you felt him touch the side of your face and push back a piece of your hair, his fingers leaving a warm trail in their wake. “Yeah, underground, but yeah.” Clearing his throat, he continued. “I didn’t know you did-”

“I don’t!” Your eyes flew open in alarm. “I mean, not usually. Just needed some extra money to get caught up on student loans…” You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, your gaze falling to the floor. “This is my first time doing something like this.”

“Me too.” His fingers on your chin lifted your face to look back up at him. “I didn’t want it to be like this...I wanted to ask you out properly.”

Gazing up at him in disbelief, you stuttered. “I...you did?”

It was his turn to blush. “Yeah, I was just trying to figure out what to say.” His hand dropped to curl around your hip. “But now we’re here…”

Feeling bold, knowing he wanted you just as much as you wanted him, you let your hands rest on his chest, the feeling of solid muscle beneath it, causing you to shiver. “Yeah, we are. So what do we do now?”

“I can think of a few things.” The smirk that made your knees weak was back on his face. “Like this, maybe.”

Your breath caught when he leaned forward, your eyes closing when his lips met yours. It was a hesitant press at first, sweet and soft, making your heartbeat quicken with anticipation. Breathing deeply through your nose, you let your fingers tangle in his lavender locks, pushing yourself closer and kissing him harder. You’d wanted this for so long, and you weren’t going to let this moment go to waste.

He hummed lowly, both hands on your waist holding you close to him, his tongue slipping out to trace along your lips. You parted them, allowing him entrance and shivering when he licked into your mouth. Sighing, you arched into him, feeling his palms slide down to grab your ass.

Pulling back, the both of you panted, your eyes sliding open to gaze up at him. Swallowing thickly, you licked your lips. “This is all happening so fast.” You said slowly. “I don’t even know your name.” 

Smirking, he bent slightly, his hands slipping behind your thighs and lifting you quickly. “It’s Shinsou.” He turned and walked towards the bed, dropping you unceremoniously onto the mattress. “And yours is Y/N, right? I remember it from your nametag.”

You nodded, half distracted watching him pull your skirt down your legs, his fingers toying with the waistband of your panties. Sitting up, you began unbuttoning his shirt, sighing when you felt his lips on your neck.

“I know this is sudden, but you don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.” He mumbled against your skin. “And knowing that you were the one who sucked my cock through that wall makes me regret not doing something sooner.”

“I was pretending it was you.” Finishing with the buttons, you untucked the shirt from his pants and worked on pulling it down his arms. “I heard you moan, and I thought it sounded like you, and I just let my mind wander a little…”

Chuckling, he pulled back, shrugging his shirt off and lifting his undershirt over his head. Your hands went to his chest immediately, tracing lines over the hard muscles and up over his shoulders.

“Do you think about me often?”

Blushing, you sat back, pulling your top over your head. “More often than I’d like to admit.”

He reached behind you, his fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra. “It sounds like we’ve been wasting too much time. We could have been doing this a long time ago.” He tossed the offending garment somewhere behind him, looming over you when you laid back. “Guess I should make up for it now, huh?”

Before you could answer, he was kissing you again, one hand wandering down your side, his other arm bent and keeping him from crushing you under his weight. His mouth moved to kiss along your jaw and down your neck, your chest heaving as he nibbled on your clavicle, his warm tongue laving at your skin. 

Your breath hitched as he moved lower, trailing kisses over your breast, his mouth latching around your nipple and sucking at it, teeth scraping over the hardening bud. “Shinsou…” You trailed off, breathless and panting, your eyes fluttering shut as your hands found his hair, digits curling into his purple locks and nails scratching at his scalp.

He must have enjoyed the feeling, a low moan rumbling from his chest as he switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention. His fingers dug into your hip, keeping you still as you attempted to wiggle in his hold, needing some kind of friction for the throbbing between your thighs. 

“Impatient, are we?” He asked lowly, kissing down your stomach and sliding down the bed some more. “Don’t worry, kitten. I’m going to take care of you.”

You whimpered at the nickname, closing your eyes when you felt his fingers slide under the elastic around your waist, tugging your panties down your legs. Warm breath ghosted over your inner thighs when he spread your legs to rest between them, his thumbs drawing comforting circles across your flesh.

“You gave me the best blow job of my life. It only seems fair for me to return the favor.” His thumbs moved to spread you open, his tongue sliding along your slit without warning.

Your hips left the bed, your head rolling as your back arched, your body unprepared. “Shinsou! Fuck!” His hands held you down as he descended on you, tongue laving greedily at your cunt, slurping up your juices and sucking on your clit with abandon.

“God, you were so wet already, how turned on were you? You must have been thinking about me pretty hard down there in that little room.” A kiss was pressed to your thigh as he caught his breath. “Why don’t you tell me what you were imagining, hmm?”

Opening your mouth to reply, all you could manage was a low moan when he dove back in, his tongue circling your entrance before traveling back up to your clit again. 

“Answer me, kitten.”

Sucking in a breath, the vibrations from his voice shooting straight through you, making it hard to think, you tried to answer again. “Thought about you bending me over the counter in the coffee shop…”

He hummed, and your eyes rolled back, body tensing when he let one of his hands move down lower, one finger sliding inside you. “I’ve thought about that too.”

“Shinsou, please. I want you to fuck me.” You felt pathetic, practically begging him, months of pent up longing for the man between your thighs finally spilling forth as he sucked on your clit and stretched you with a second finger. “I want you to fill me up.”

Groaning, you felt his teeth graze against you, his fingers curling, the squelching sound filling the room a testament to how wet you were as he pressed against your g spot, adding another digit. “Fuck, you want it that badly?”

You shivered, your legs aching, and your toes curling. You couldn’t even form a sentence if you wanted to, the coil in your belly tightening with every caress of his tongue along your pussy. The feeling of his long, calloused fingers stroking along your inner walls and the vibrations of his moans when you tensed around them made it hard to focus. You barely registered his hips moving against the bed in time with the thrust of his fingers, obviously just as into it as you were.

“Come for me, kitten, and I’ll give you what you want.” He moaned, the tip of his tongue flicking quickly over your clit again.

The tone of his voice, rough and full of lust, was enough to push you over the edge. You came with a cry, head thrown back against the pillows, vision whiting out at the intensity of your orgasm. 

Shinsou groaned as he coaxed you through your release, pulling back only when he felt you go boneless beneath him. You gazed at him through half-lidded eyes, trying to pull air into your lungs, watching as he sat back and wiped his mouth on his arm. “You okay, kitten?”

You managed to nod, watching as he shuffled off the bed and over to the table beside it, opening the top drawer and pulling a condom out. Sitting up on your elbows, you licked your lips, anticipating what was about to happen. Everything was moving quickly, but you’d been dreaming about sharing these intimate moments with him for so long that you couldn’t be bothered with worrying about what would happen tomorrow.

He made quick work of his belt, his pants falling around his narrow waist as he unbuttoned them, revealing purple boxers that matched his hair. He caught you watching, raising his eyebrow as he toyed with the elastic band on his boxer briefs. “See something you like?”

Teasing him, you grinned. “I told you, I've been thinking about this for a while.” You couldn’t help ogling him. You would have never guessed his body would look this way beneath the oversized t-shirts he usually wore when he came into your job every morning.

He laughed at your blatant staring, biting his lip. “You did mention that.” He shook his hips to tease you as he pulled down his pants and boxers, making you giggle. You liked how he could make you feel comfortable, and insanely turned on at the same time. 

Crawling up the bed, he settled in between your legs on his knees, his large hand moving to stroke his cock. He picked up the condom, ripped the foil packet, and rolled it onto his length. He gripped your thighs, leaning forward to press his forehead against yours. “You ready?”

Tilting your chin up, you kissed him, your fingers tangling in his hair. You could taste yourself on his lips, feel his heart beating when you let your other hand rest against his chest. You were more than ready to let this man wreck you. “I’m ready.”

He dropped his head to your shoulder as he positioned himself and pushed his hips forward, groaning as he entered you. The stretch was just on the edge of painful, and you tried to stifle your cry as you tucked your face into the space between his neck and shoulder, your nails digging into the skin of his back as you arched up off the mattress.

“Fuck…”He breathed, pulling out and pushing back in further. “You’re so tight.”

Uncurling to lay back against the pillows, your hands moved to wrap around his biceps, his arms caging you in on either side as he moved in and out of you slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size. You weren’t sure you’d ever been with someone as big as he was, and as the burning sensation of the stretch slowly turned to pleasure, you felt like you’d been missing out.

He finally paused when he was fully seated inside you, his lips pressing against the skin of your shoulder, and then up your neck and jaw until he was able to look into your eyes. You briefly thought about how bizarre the entire situation was, how you’d been pining after this guy you were too afraid to speak to, and now he was balls deep inside you in a lavish hotel room where he was paying to fuck you. At least he had confessed he was actually interested in you outside of all of this, so maybe that meant you had a shot at something with him. You didn’t really want to think about the money portion of it all because that was too much to unpack at that very moment, deciding instead to focus on how he was looking at you reverently, and he was not moving. “Shinsou, you gotta move, please. I’m-”

Lips curling up into a smirk, he kissed you. “I’ve got you, kitten, don’t worry.” His arm moved from your side, his hand curling around your thigh and lifted your leg slightly, and then he was pulling back and slamming his hips forward.

Your hips rose off the bed to meet him, pleasure coursing through you as he started a brutal pace, each thrust making your toes curl and your eyes roll back. You managed to wrap your legs around his waist, urging him closer as he leaned over and grabbed the ornate headboard of the bed above you, using it for leverage as he rammed his cock into you over and over again.

“God, fuck, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to-” He broke off, grunting when you clenched around him. “You’re so wet for me, kitten. I could fuck you like this all night. Would you like that?”

At that moment, it sounded like the single greatest idea you’d ever heard. “Shinsou, don’t stop!” 

Growling, he picked up the pace, letting go of the headboard to grab your legs, folding them between your bodies. The angle let him slide in deeper, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. You felt so full, the scent of his cologne surrounding you, the sound of his low moans and panting breaths echoing through the room. You keened, your fingers white-knuckling the sheets beside you, concentrating on the building pressure in your lower belly.

Every muscle in your legs was screaming, pleading gibberish spilling from your lips as you begged him to keep going, climbing higher and higher as he fucked you into the mattress. He sat back on his knees, positioning your legs over his shoulders and leaning forward again, kissing you to quiet your babbling. You couldn’t get enough of the taste, your fingers weaving through his drooping hair, delirious and consumed by him at that moment. He trailed his lips down to your chest, mouth closing around your nipple and sucking hard, scraping it with his teeth and soothing with his tongue. You barely registered his hand moving, his deft fingers finding your clit in between your sweat-slicked bodies, rubbing harsh circles over it. “Come on, kitten. I want to feel you come apart around me.”

Warm breath over your sensitive chest had you mewling, your back arching, your body pulled taught and finally snapping, cries of his name repeated like a prayer as you fell over the edge, drowning in ecstasy.

The moan that left him was just short of animalistic as he moved back, hips slamming against yours again and again as he chased his high, your pussy fluttering around him, gripping him and sucking him back in every time he drew back. “So fucking good for me, kitten.”

His rhythm became uneven, his grip on you loosening, hips slowing as he came. You watched the way his brow creased, his abs tightening as he unloaded into the condom. You found yourself half wishing he was cumming inside you, so fucked out that rational thought was off the table. He ground against you one last time until he was slumping forward, your legs falling off his shoulders and to the side. 

You hummed, petting his hair back from his forehead. You felt him smile against your skin, his nose brushing your cheek as he tried to catch his breath.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” You cleared your throat, your voice raw. “I’m good. Really good.”

Chuckling, he kissed your cheek, huffing as he lifted himself off of you. He pulled off the condom and tied it before shuffling off the bed and pulling on his boxers, wandering off in the direction of what you assumed was the bathroom. 

You took that moment to assess how weak your legs felt, cursing your choice of footwear, and wondering how you were going to walk. Shinsou appeared again a moment later, a wet washcloth in his hand. You let him clean you up, blushing but appreciating his kindness.

When he was satisfied, you took a deep breath and sat up, moving slowly as you stood up on shaky legs, gathering your clothes and redressing yourself. You suddenly felt awkward, not sure what to say or do. Did he want to see you again?

“Do you have work tomorrow?” He asked, breaking the awkward silence. 

Blinking up at him, you shook your head. “I’m off on the weekends. I’ll be in on Monday morning.”

Scratching the back of his neck nervously, he nodded. “I...good. Okay. I’ll see you then, right?”

“Unless you’re going to go somewhere else for your coffee, then yes, you’ll see me.” You frowned. “Did you not want to-”

“No! Oh god, I’m making a mess of things, aren’t I? I just mean I was worried you wouldn’t want me to come-” He groaned. “I feel like I’m making this more awkward than it needs to be.”

“You said it, not me.” You teased. “I’ll see you Monday, and we can talk then, okay?”

“I’d ask for your number, but neither of us has our phone.” He stepped forward, tipping your chin so you could gaze up at him. His lips pressing against yours sent a shiver down your spine again. “I’ll see you Monday.”

You barely remembered leaving the room or following the guard down to where your things were locked up, or the amount of the check you received before you left. 

All that was on your mind were sleepy amethyst eyes and lips curled into a knowing smirk, soft smiles, and urgent kisses, the way his voice sounded when he called you kitten.

[starship-argo]

I watched the ending of my favorite show (Star Trek: Enterprise) and I am distraught. The ending was the single most dissatisfying thing I have every experience and i’m going to tell you why. Enterprise is set in the year 2151 during the first long space voyage of Starfleet nearly 100 years before The Original Series take place. Great concept if you ask me.

Seasons 1-2 and two are really good. The characters and dynamic and the plots are fun and interesting. They establish the universe in a new way where humans are just breaking into the space scene and you get to learn about the ins and outs of alien culture with the characters in real time.

Season three was hot garbage. Far to much time travel to make any sense, they kill Trip Tuckers sister which sends him into a blatant denial which gets him killed (for the first time we’ll come back to this) The Enterprise travels into a pocket of space called The Expanse where beloved captive Jonathan Archer starts off preaching about how his morals are what make him human and ends up beaming into another ship, stealing their warp coils effectively stranding them with impulse speed 8 million light years from their home with 7 million light years worth of food. This is all fine and i’m willing to over look it because in season 3 we get the development of Trip And T’pols relationship. They are a fantastic couple who very clearly care about each other and fit into a sort of rivals to lovers that is to die for. In one episode they even see a possible future where they get married and have a child (they did half-vulcan half-human long before Spock).

Season three ends on a terrible cliffhanger and the watcher is left disappointed because there is no real ending. Season 4 starts and you can already tell the difference in the writing. (After the bomb of season 3 the show was renewed for one final season with half the budget and 1/4 the audience so the director brought in some Star Trek Novel writers and decided to cater more towards the long time fans rather than trying to gain new ones)

Season 4 eases out of the season 3 style with some tasteful time travel and of course Trip Tucker going through it. emotionally. Then they go back to individual adventures. Season 4 doesn’t really have a big plot with a main bad guy it’s more of 40-80 minute adventures that get resolved nicely. It’s a comfort season and i’m all for it. Then they decide to marry T’pol to the wrong person who quite frankly blackmailed her into it.

All in all season 4 is good up until the very end. The adventures make it seem like it’ll never end and we even get to explore the MirrorVerse for two episodes. And then the season finale. Instead of experiencing the end with the characters they go way forward to The Next Generation time and have the last voyage of the NX-01 Enterprise play through holographic retellings. The crew decided to help out Shran the Andorian (my favorite character) rescue is daughter from some mercenaries. When it seems they’ve gotten away with it bAm the bad guys catch them and in a last ditch effort to save Shran, Trip Tucker (my second favorite charater) Sacrifices himself and blows up a section of the ship. What’s worse is you find out that him and T’pol never got married and he never achieved his dream of becoming a star fleet captain. Trip is used as the series punching bag the whole time, he’s killed at least twice, his sister dies, the love of his life gets married to someone else even though she loved trip back and then they give him the most unsatisfactory death in the history of television. This man has survived countless close calls with death and he gets killed because of some random adventure??? and because this is all playing out over a recording you don’t even really see the characters mourn him!! they just move on with their lives after like 6 hours!!

I have some problems with the show but I do still love it. I wish they gave us a better ending and a longer run but I guess i’ll have to make do with the terrible mistreatment of Charles “Trip” Tucker III

[professorrw]

Study Break, a Peter Parker One-Shot

Pairing: gn reader x Peter Parker

Warnings: fluff, swearing

A/N: Happy birthday to Tom Holland! This was a request I got on AO3! I’ve only watched Spider-Man Homecoming once and it was when it first came out so I don’t remember much but I tried my best! My requests are open! Please like, comment, and reblog! If you want to be tagged in my works let me know!

“Ugh. I’m going to fail. I’m going to fail, that’s what’s going to happen. I’m not going to get the credits. All that time in class was wasted.” You huff and lay your head on the library desk.

“You won’t fail Y/N. You’re doing pretty well, we just have a few more things to go over.” Your boyfriend Peter puts his hand on your back and pats it in an attempt to make you feel better. Although his touch was comforting it wasn’t going to help you on exams.

“We’ve been sitting here for hours. My head is full of all this stuff I need to know and it feels like it’s about to explode.”

“I have an idea. How about we go roller skating and then get milkshakes? We can take a little break, let your brain rest, and then get back to it.”

You roll your head over to look at him. His eyebrows are raised and his hands are out to the side making a gesture that says, “how about it?”

“That actually sounds fun. I haven’t skated in forever though, I’ll probably fall on my face.” You were just about ready to give up, to throw in the towel but Peter wasn’t going to rest until you were sure you would get a good grade.

“I’m sure you’ll do fine. Now get up and stretch those legs.” Peter lightly jumps on the balls of his feet, making him look like a kid that just got told he was going to get ice cream.

You pack up your stuff and shove it into your backpack before you leave. It was seven o’clock at night and the sky was getting gradually darker. You really had been studying for hours. You left right after lunch and had been at the library ever since.

You walk to the roller rink that’s a few blocks down. As you got closer you saw on the retro-style sign that it was 80’s night. You stepped into the carpeted building and went to the front desk. The cashier was an older woman and she was dressed perfectly in the 80’s style. Her hair was teased and she was wearing huge neon hoops.

The rink was designed to be like a disco, the lights were turned off and pink, blue, and green lights shining on the walls and wooden floor. Cyndi Lauper played over the speakers, completing the atmosphere.

You both laced up your skates and entered the rink together. You were definitely rusty and nearly fell as soon as you stood. Peter struggled to suppress his laughter as he glided ahead of you. You gripped the side of the divider as you found your footing and followed Peter.

There weren’t many other people there, a few kids and their parents and some couples skating together. Peter skated in a circle back to you and grabbed your hand. The song changed to a slower song and Peter pulled you a little bit closer.

You skated side by side around the dimly lit rink. “This is pretty fun, I have to admit.”

“I know right? I’m glad we got the chance to come. I’ve wanted to take you on a date here for a while but couldn’t find the right time to ask.” He rubbed the back of his neck and a shy smile appeared on his face. He was such a cutie no matter what.

You felt confident enough to try to do a spin. You picked up a little speed and started turning. You really thought you were going to do it but not a second later your feet seem to slip out from under you and you fall. You lie on the ground on your back dying from laughter. You weren’t even embarrassed, you were genuinely having a good time. 

Peter was quick to rush to your side and as soon as he knew you were okay he dissolved into a fit of laughter. You were both laughing so hard you were wheezing and clutching your sides. 

“Oh-Oh! Help me- Help me up!” Tears were forming in the corners of your eyes and Peter was not doing any better. He grabbed onto your arm in an effort to pull you up but ended up on his butt too. That just made both of you laugh even harder, making you look like fools. You were having too much fun to even care that people were staring at you.

You stayed for a while longer, gaining a bruised ass but having a great time in general. There was a retro diner joined with the roller rink so you headed next door to get milkshakes and fries. You slid into the red booth in the corner and ordered your food.

“Thank you Peter. I really needed this break.” You reached across the table to hold his hand. 

He gave it a squeeze, “I thought you might. I’m glad you liked it.” He leaned forward and kissed you across the table. You were interrupted by your waitress setting down your plate of fries right between you and putting your milkshakes to the side. 

You dug into the comfort food, dipping your fries into your milkshake, which was your favorite flavor. You and Peter continued to joke and talk, avoiding the subject of exams. Once your glasses and plate were empty you left.

It was around nine so Peter walked you home. You arrived on the doorsteps of your apartment complex in a few minutes. 

“Goodnight handsome.” You pressed a kiss to Peter’s red cheeks. He always got flustered when you complimented him like that.

“G-goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You turned to go in but Peter stood rooted in his spot. He wasn’t going to leave until you properly kissed him. You rolled your eyes and pressed your lips to his before finally waving goodbye. He grinned once more and then headed home.

Taglist: @bellamy1998​ 

[cloud9in]

Driving Lessons Pt 2 (Poppy x Bea)

Long awaited. I hope you all enjoy. This is the finale of the series but I think that Bea and Poppy’s high school stories should be continued.....

Read Part 1 HERE

Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @baexpoppy @poppysmc @clowneryme @thedaft1 @zigxryanz @aleiramacaii

Word Count: 2.6k 

Pt 2: The Date

Friday night had arrived and Bea’s nerves were at an all time high. She practiced breathing exercises that conveniently popped up on Youtube, there was no room for thoughts other than that of a blonde cheerleader. The buzz of her phone prompted her to jump up in excitement. 

1 message from Poppy🙄

 Poppy: I’m 99% sure that you haven’t forgotten about our “date” tonight. But if you did I’m not here to remind you. I’ll be here in 5 minutes. Remember, dress casual. ❣

 A familiar grin crept its way onto Bea’s lips as she reread the message about twenty times, taking note of the heart at the end. It may seem conventional, but even that was a lot coming from Poppy. Another message popped up which induced a smirk from the brunette. 

 Poppy: No, I am not driving the Benz.

 Bea set her phone down and spun around to check herself out in the mirror. She wore black ripped jeans with a red plaid design in the holes, red converse, and an oversized grey and black long sleeve. This should definitely fit Poppy’s definition of casual, right? 

 The blonde arrived outside of Bea’s house just as she reached the front door. Poppy was the first to react, her jaw threatening to drop open as she took in Bea’s appearance, all of it. Luckily, she was the queen of poker face’s and masked her thirsty expression….Bea on the other hand, failed horribly. She stood there wide eyed, her hands hanging uselessly by her sides as she studied the blonde. Poppy wore a white and pink checkered wool skirt, a knitted pink sweater, and a white crop top. Her jewelry also dazzled brightly against her neck. The blonde watched Bea amusingly, “you can quit ogling me now...:”

 Bea darts her eyes away self consciously. “Your uh...jewelry is distracting.” Really Bea. Nice going. She winces at her excuse and Poppy arches an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the flustered mess of the brunette in the moment. 

 “Hmm..well come now. I don’t like to waste time.”

 Like a puppy being offered food, Bea follows Poppy into her silver Range Rover. She gapes at the pristine interior and the stars on the ceiling. “I thought those star things only existed in Rolls Royce’s.” Poppy smirks appreciatively, her fingers flexing on the steering wheel, “Oh they do, but I have my ways.”

 Bea tries to convince Poppy to tell her where they’re going, but she scoffs immediately, not even turning her head in the brunette’s direction. “It’s a surprise.”

 “I didn’t take you for a girl that likes surprises to be honest.”

 “Well then there’s a lot you don’t know about me, Hughes.”

Bea fought the urge to ask Poppy to elaborate, to tell her every last detail about her. What flavor of ice cream she liked, what she loved to do on a rainy day, but there’s that moment of insecurity  that pushes her away from indulging in those thoughts. She didn’t want to seem overly-interested.

 But maybe that’s what Poppy wanted.

 The sudden quietness becomes obvious and Poppy peers over at the brunette, “I could always let you test drive this one. Maybe brush up on your driving skills?” Bea side eyes Poppy suspiciously, memories of Monday night’s driving lessons infiltrating her mind. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious right now..”

 “Of course I’m not! You don’t think I remember what you did to my other baby?! You’re lucky you were hurt in the process, otherwise who knows what I would have done…” Poppy glances quietly over at Bea, her eyes carefully scanning the scar that sits on her forehead.

 Bea smiles sheepishly, her hand reaching up to move her locks back. “I don’t think I wanna know- wait hey! What do you mean I was lucky-”

 “Oh please, you were lucky that I took you to a hospital. You are crazy Hughes, you know that?”

 “Crazy for you? Well now that you mention it…”

 Poppy rolls her eyes but can’t stop the smile that erupts on her face. “...Just let me take a look at it later. I need to make sure it’s healing right.”

 “Whatever you say doctor!” Bea mock salutes the blonde which earns another heavy eye roll, emphasis on heavy, but she didn’t mind. The opportunity to be less than an inch away from Poppy’s luscious lips again? Hell yes.

 “Okay, but what did your dad say? I’m sure he understood it was a complete accident.”

 “Mhm tell that to the insurance company. Which reminds me, you will be receiving a bill in the mail sometime next week for all the damages.”

 Bea nearly leaped out of her seat as her head snapped towards the blonde, who looked like she was having a great time. “Pop...you’re joking right...that is a thing you are doing right now.” Poppy rolls her eyes with enjoyment, letting out a soft chuckle. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Farmsville, I know you can’t even afford a tire. 

 “Wha-...hey!”

 ***

 After continuous bickering which almost prompted Poppy to unlock the passenger side door and kick Bea out...psychically, while they were doing 80 on the freeway, she eventually pulled into a parking lot. The only main source of light was the huge sign illuminating the words, “Animal Shelter”. Bea blinks in confusion for a few seconds before realizing she was the only one in the car. Poppy had already started walking towards the entrance, greeting a man with a….smile? Oh yeah, Bea was definitely curious now. Poppy actually looked relaxed when Bea had finally caught up with her. The blonde noticed her approach and hummed to herself, “took you long enough, hurry lets go inside.”

 “Pops-did you take a wrong turn...this is an animal shelter...”

 The blonde rolls her eyes so far back into her brain as she grasps onto Bea’s words. “No I did not take a wrong turn you imb--.....this..this is the place I picked.” The brunette flicks her eyes continuously between Poppy and the entrance before shrugging, a surprised expression on her face. Before Bea could say anything else, Poppy grabs her hand and pulls them into the store and into the column where cute puppies reached for them. A beautiful smile immediately lit up Poppy’s features as she bent down to pet one of the baby bulldogs. This gesture immediately enraptured Bea as she watched...Poppy? Or whoever this was. 

 Not wanting to disturb the moment Bea leans down to the cage next to her and picks up the golden retriever who happily licks her face. “Woah okay there boy, a little too much tongue.” She holds up the puppy as he barks playfully and wiggles in her arms. 

 “I’m definitely not complaining about your destination of choice, but can you tell me why you picked it?” 

 Bea gazes over at Poppy who looks like she’s in her true element. The blonde sighs and stands up, brushing her skirt down. “Well my parents own the place…and well to put it bluntly, some of these animals don’t have much time left.” 

 She turns towards Bea, watching her safely caress the puppy in her arms, and smiles, “I figured you have a close connection with animals and would want to make them feel loved before they go.” 

 Bea watches Poppy with a warm look in her eyes, and it was funny because Bea had been around the cheerleader a lot, but this...was different. Almost incredible. And Bea knew that this was the start of a feeling that she would never get enough of. 

 “I would. Thank you.” 

 The two girls spend a good amount of time playing with the animals. Poppy helped Bea feed newborn strays with a bottle of milk, more than often grabbing a hold of the brunette’s hand to steady the slight tremble. Bea didn’t want to admit she was nervous because Poppy was very close to her. And Poppy would never admit that Bea was doing everything right, but she wanted to hold her hand because it felt incredibly soft for a girl who worked on a farm everyday. 

 But she wasn’t the only one who was very observant that night. Bea kept her mouth shut about the situation, but this new side of Poppy blew her mind. There was so much to ask, to say, but the moment was too valuable to ruin. 

 The time seemed to go by quickly as the shelter started to close down. The time they spent with the animals felt fulfilling but Bea never missed the solemn look on Poppy’s face as she watched one of the older cats rest peacefully. There was so much to learn about the girl, and Bea thought it was best that she kept this date going.

 Food. That could work. 

 “Hey pops...I know I said you could pick the place but there’s somewhere else I want to take you. If you’re up for it.” 

 If it was anyone else, Poppy probably would have cussed at them for taking up too much of her time. But this was Bea, and something in her couldn’t say no. “As long as it doesn’t involve you and I in a forest alone.” The brunette laughs easily, wrapping her arm around Poppy’s waist without a second thought. “Oh please, do you really think that’s how I’d get rid of you?” 

 Poppy seems to lean into her touch, letting her strawberry blonde locks brush up against Bea’s cheeks, “I doubt you’d be the one getting rid of me darling, but sure.” 

 ***

“....Alright I take it back! I’ll even let you drive the car because I am not eating at a diner.”

 “Oh come on, they have the best milkshakes in town!”

 The brunette drags Poppy towards the diner without letting go because if she did, Poppy would probably scream bloody murder in the middle of the lot. 

 Bea led her towards a booth in the back, only then freeing her arm. Poppy plops into the seat after realizing there was no way she could charm her way out of this. “Don’t look so bummed out, you’ll change your mind when you try the famous strawberry milkshake.” 

 “I have never had a milkshake in my life.” Poppy visibly cringes, her posture stiffening at the thought of a sugary liquid infiltrating her body. 

 “Well today is your lucky day baby.” Bea winks at her and calls over a waitress who seems too comfortable with laying a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. It wasn’t evident whether the severe blush on Poppy’s face was because of Bea unknowingly using a pet name or because of the mystery girl who decided to do the most in her presence. 

 “We’ll have the regular Tasha, oh and the strawberry milkshake please.” 

 “Just one? What about your friend over here?”

 Poppy snaps her head up at the waitress who seemed to scan her every move. Something Poppy was definitely used to. Her hands are the first to make a move, slowly trailing their way up Bea’s arm from across the table. She doesn’t take her eyes off the waitress as she speaks softly. “Oh we’ll be sharing it honey. Put a cherry on top too okay?”

 The waitress reverts her eyes from the two and walks away without a word. Poppy watches her leave, biting her lip with satisfaction. 

 Bea can’t help but smirk to herself. “Oh you cannot take your eyes off of her can you? Relax, she’s an old friend.”

 The blonde scoffs, keeping her hands on the surface of Bea’s skin. “I don’t care who she is. Does she flirt with every customer in here? What happened to having class? Or some sort of decent? I mean do you talk to pigs like this?

 Bea squints her eyes and sighs warily. “Poppy this is not a five star restaurant, and that’s what you call being polite and kind to well known customers. People here are normal, not trained robots.” 

 Poppy shrugs to herself, her eyes darting around to the wall decorations and other people who are chatting happily with their families. The atmosphere did feel warm and peaceful, nobody sat up straight and practiced proper table manners. Nobody judged her for who she was or what designer she wore. There was room to actually breathe. Bea could sense the blonde slowly starting to adapt and relax in their new environment and she couldn’t be more grateful for making the right decision. When their food had come, Bea slid the milkshake towards Poppy and smiled shyly. “It’s all yours if you like it, we don’t have to share.” 

 “Nonsense Hughes, I can’t possibly drink this all by myself…but I call dibs on the cherry.” She steals the cherry from the top and plops it into her mouth, eyes sparkling from the burst of flavor. It was nothing compared to the milkshake though, Poppy swore she saw stars when tasting the sweet liquid. Bea laughs as a whipped cream mustache develops on the blonde’s lips after hogging the shake for herself.  

 ***

 “I’m paying for our next date by the way.” 

 Bea peers over at Poppy who walked her to her front door, “oh so there’s gonna be another one?” She can’t help but smile at Poppy’s sudden shyness. 

 “Well I enjoyed tonight, a lot. Maybe more than a lot.”

 “I did too.”

 The silence that consumed them wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but it was enough to make them stare at each other. Bea’s mind started to fog as she thought about finally closing the distance between them. She wanted nothing more than to mask the silence with a kiss. Bea looks at Poppy, who seems to be lost in thought. 

 “What are you thinking?”

 “What?”

 “You’re usually deep in thought when your eyebrows scrunch together like that. Or maybe you’re just planning on jumping me as soon as I turn around.”

 Poppy smiles softly. “Do you know the feeling when the thing you wanted the most is right in front of you, yet it still feels unreal and almost impossible.” 

 Bea takes a deep breath and nods, “I do.” 

 Okay Hughes you’re gonna kiss her in 3. You’re gonna make the move. Come on. 

 But of course Poppy had other plans. 

 “Mmh!”

 The feeling of Poppy’s soft lips had caught Bea completely off guard. A hum of pleasure escaped her mouth as the heat started to increase between them. Bea grabbed hold of Poppy’s cheek and steadied the kiss, her eyes slowly started to shut as she sunk into the warm, smooth feeling. Bea smiles into the kiss as Poppy’s tongue begins exploring the depths of her mouth, and she bites back a moan when the blonde takes her bottom lip between her teeth, tugging it slightly, feeling the desire pooling in the pit of her stomach. Poppy places her lips back on Bea’s, passion igniting once more as Bea begins to dominate the kiss, her hands finding her way to the blonde’s waist, pulling her in even closer. 

 Poppy felt like she could kiss Bea forever, if it wasn’t for the need of oxygen. When they both finally pulled back, the blonde laughed with joy. “That felt so amazing.” 

 Bea wanted to blow a huge sigh of relief that Poppy initiated the kiss, because imagine fucking that up. She just held her close and basked in the moment. Her lips swelled with excitement as she still felt the ghost of Poppy’s tongue tracing it. Poppy always had something to say, but right now there was so much more she could do. And the first thing she would do is finally make Bea hers.

***

if you want to be tagged in any Poppy fics let me know.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph, got any good old (maybe new?) bedsharing fics for a fanfic obsessed lurker?

Thanks 😘

Hey Nonny!!

Hahha! I actually just did a list recently of my old ones, but I just double-checked my offline lists and I actually DO have some fics on my next Bed Sharing list, so GUESS WHAT? Your ask is the one to start the next Bed Sharing one, LOL.

As usual, if anyone has any they’d like to add, especially if they’re brand new fics, let us know! <3

BEDSHARING Pt. 5

See also:

The Speckled Blonde / BedSharing

BedSharing Pt. 2 and Insecure Sherlock

Bed Sharing Pt. 3

Bed Sharing Pt. 4

Bed Sharing “Just Happens”

Soft. Happy. Content. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 223 w., 1 Ch. || Sleepy Cuddles, Bed Sharing, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Spooning, Morning After, Sherlock POV) – Sherlock reflects on his state of mind.

And When The Night Is Over by Simply Isnt On (K, 329 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Platonic Bed Sharing / Not Slash) – Sherlock and John sleep together.

I Knew You Loved Me by inevitably_johnlocked (T, 743 w., 1 Ch. || Morning Cuddles, Fluff, Clingy Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slice of Life, Morning After, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Declarations of Love, Pet Name, Bed Sharing, Snuggles) – John and Sherlock share a lie-in the morning after their first time. So fluffy and gross your teeth will fall out. Part 4 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Sleep Tonight by Jenn1984 (T, 1,220 w, 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Worried Sherlock, Sick John, Hugs/Cuddles, Touch Neediness) – Fingers begin prying open his jacket looking for a wound and John would really like to swat at them. No, he's not hit anywhere, he's just damn sick.- John Watson has a fever.

Loved. by inevitably_johnlocked (G, 1,231 w., 1 Ch. || First Sherlock POV, Slice of Life, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Nose Kisses, Morning After, Love Confessions, Morning Cuddles, Emotional Sherlock, Sentiment, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock reflects on his relationship with John. Part 5 of I-J's Tumblr Ficlet Collection

Here to Stay by MockJayPhoenix12 (K, 1,574 w., 1 Ch. || Post Reunion, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Headache, Bed Sharing, Care Taker Sherlock, Hand Holding, Fluff) – On Sherlock's first day home, John wakes with a migraine.

The Perfect Place by SilverSmile (K+, 1,955 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Romance, 5 and Ones, Fluff, Experiments, Bed Sharing) – Sherlock attempts to find the perfect place to sleep, but his little experiment proves to be far more difficult than expected.

Insomnia by TheSingingGirl (K+, 2,635 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Humour, Bed Sharing, Sleepy Sherlock) – Sleep is merely the next frontier in what has become the battle to keep Sherlock alive. It's because of this that John ends up in bed with a sociopath.

Human Body Pillow by Lunavere (K, 4,122 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Sleepy Johnlock, Bed Sharing) – A story about the five times John fell asleep on Sherlock, and the one time Sherlock fell asleep on him.

The Myth by AGirloftheSouth (M, 4,329 w., 1 Ch || Sex Toys / Anal Beads, PWP, Romance, Bottom John, Prostate Stimulation) – Sherlock believes something to be a myth. John proves him wrong.

When We Sleep by PrincessNala (K+, 6,660 w., 1 Ch || Post-TGG,  Alternating POV, Bed Sharing, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Hurt/Comfort, Hugs) – Sherlock needed to feel every beat of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. It was the only way to completely assure himself that John was alive and right there next to him, and not dead, no, never dead…

To be loved by Strange_johnlock (E, 12,436 w., 8 Ch. || Post S3, Established Relationship, First Person POV Sherlock, Pet Names, Soft Sherlock, Mild ADHD, Protective John, Captain Watson, Body Appreciation, Bottomlock, Rough Sex, Travelling for Holidays, Introspection, Sherlock Loves John So Much It Hurts) – John is so deeply integrated into the work, both as my conductor of light, and as a great shot with a vicious right hook who tackles men -and women- no matter their size all in my defense. He protects me with all he can without question, and this loyalty is surely more than I deserve. Or: Sherlock is counting his blessings.

There's So Much Labour Just in Breathing Lately by Susan (E, 12,708 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF / Mentions of S3 Events, Romance, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Grieving John, Mutual Pining, Meddling Mycroft, Therapy, Ambiguous Hopeful Ending, Infidelity) – The dreams he hated most – the ones that left him a sweating, shaking mess when he woke – were the ones in which Sherlock was just Sherlock. Laughing or drinking tea. Sitting across the table from him at Angelo’s eating pasta. Trailing his open hand behind him on the way to the bedroom. “C’mon, John. I’m about to have my way with you.”

Kintsugi by distantstarlight (E, 14,772 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Regret / Remorse, Loneliness, Separation, Drug Use, Healing, Protective John, Sad Sherlock, Dev. Rel., Complicated Relationships, Love, Angst With Happy Ending, Sherlock is Called Freak, John’s Penance, Voyeurism, Doctor/Caretaker John, Guilty John, Detox, Fingering, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Slight Non-Con Turns Enthusiastic Consent, Virgin Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes becomes estranged from the man he had once considered his best friend after John lets him down horribly in public. It seems that the world's only consulting detective will be on his own once again...or will he?

The Burning of the Leaves by blueink3 (M, 15,915 w., 3 Ch. || Post S4, Angst, Reichenbach, Parentlock, Past Jolto, Idiot John, Sherlock’s a Mess, Puppies, Fluff, Possessive / Jealous Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, Matchmaker Sholto, Melancholic Feelings, Emotional Sherlock, Domesticity, Love Confessions in the Rain, Kissing in the Rain, Pet Names, Panic Attack) – After the events of series 4, Major Sholto invites John and Sherlock to lunch one day. It nearly proves to be too much for their tenuous relationship as the past haunts the present, putting the future that Sherlock so desperately wants at risk.

A Silver Sixpence by _doodle (NC-17, 16,400 w., 2 Ch. || LJ Fic || For a Case / Case Fic, Fake Relationship, Humour, Romance, Marriage Proposal, Awkward Idiots, Cuddling, Touching, Kissing, Love Confessions, Bed Sharing, Friends to Lovers, Fake Until It’s Not, Schmoop and Fluff, Bottomlock) – “John, we need to get married. It’s for a case, not any romantic notions on my part pertaining to our partnership,” Sherlock said, with brutal honesty, and without even looking up.

Division by MrsNoggin (E, 19,542 w., 11 Ch. || Coffee Shop AU || First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Barista Sherlock, Clingy Sherlock, POV John, John’s Limp, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Sleepy Cuddles, Sensuality, Touching, Virgin Sherlock, Insecure John) – John likes mysteries. And every morning he dips into the local independent coffee bar with his newspaper and ponders another... one Sherlock Holmes.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Insanity in the Middle by DotyTakeThisDown (E, 28,010 w., 8 Ch. || Equestrian Sports AU || Alternate First Meeting, POV John, Pining John, Bottomlock, Clueless Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, Passionate Kisses, Hand Holding, Caught Making Out, Bed Sharing, Spooning, Blow Job) – John is a world-class eventing rider with a gold medal and several four-star wins to his credit, but he's never won at Rolex. Sherlock is an up-and-coming rider taking the sport by storm.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Anchor Point by trickybonmot (E, 49,856 w., 80 Ch. || Truman Show AU || Psychological Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Dark Characters / Fic, Alternating First/Third Person, Protective John, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Tender Moments, Love Confessions, Hand/Blow Jobs, Cuddling, Jealous John, First Kiss/Time) – The world tunes in nightly for Sherlock, the ultimate in reality TV: Sherlock Holmes, a real person with a legendary name, unknowingly lives out his life in a staged setting contrived by his brother. Things get complicated when a retired army doctor joins the show to play the part of Sherlock's closest friend. This fic borrows its concept from the 1998 film, the Truman Show. However, you don't need to have any knowledge of the movie to enjoy this story.

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

A Goose Quill Dipped in Venom by Polyphony (M, 52,748 w., 16 Ch. || Celebrity John AU || Alternate First Meeting, TV Host John, Supermodel Mary, Character Death, Mystery, Romance, Case Fic, First Kiss/Time, Meddling Mycroft, Drug Abuse, Doctor John, PDA, Deductions, POV Sherlock, Toplock, Sexual Tension, Angry/Rough Sex, Hopeful Ending, Asperger’s Sherlock) – Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective, is called in to a very ordinary although brutal murder. Something is badly out of tune with the whole scenario and Sherlock finds himself becoming more and more obsessed with the crime - and also with the victim.

Isosceles by SilentAuror (E, 56,609 w., 7 Ch. || Post-S4, POV John, Original Male Character / Sherlock Dates Another Man, Love Triangle, Jealous John, Virgin Sherlock, Sexual Coaching, Angst, Romance, Domesticity, Unrequited Feelings, Miscommunication, First Kiss/Time, For a Case, Friends With Benefits, Bottomlock, Love Confessions, Spooning) – After solving a case for a major celebrity, Sherlock gets himself asked out. When John asks, he discovers that Sherlock has no intention of going, at least not until John agrees to coach him through whatever he might need to know for his date...

Lunar Landscapes by J_Baillier (M, 57,046 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || S3/TAB Fix-It, Slow Burn Angst, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Confessions, Drugs, Pain, Medical, Injury, Sherlock Whump, Mental Health Issues, Panic Attacks, Romance, Secrets, Tragedy, Trauma, BAMF John, Doctor!John, Drug Addict Sherlock, Injured Sherlock, Grieving John, Idiots In Love,  Protective John, POV John Watson, PTSD Sherlock, Sherlock is a Mess, Medical Realism) – An accident forces John to face the fact that Sherlock's downward spiral had started long before his flight to exile even left the tarmac.

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Just To Hold You Close by sussexbound (E, 70,841 w., 18 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, Sherlock POV, ASD Sherlock, PTSD John, Demisexual Sherlock, Bisexual John, Cuddling/Snuggling, Platonic Cuddling, Enthusiastic Consent, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss/Time, Sexual Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Cuddle Negotiations, For a Case Until It Isn’t, Hair Petting, Sexual Negotiation, Anxiety, Trust Issues, Slow Burn, Panic Attacks, Frottage, Hand/Blow Jobs, Referenced Self Harm / Abuse / Suicidal Ideation, First Kiss/Time, Anal) – When a woman is murdered and the last person to see her alive is recently invalided army vet turned reluctant (and prickly) professional cuddler, John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is pulled into a world of intimacy and intrigue he never could have imagined. John is a conundrum and mystery: frank yet reserved, tender yet angry, open yet afraid. Sherlock is instantly drawn into his orbit, and begins to feel and desire things he never has before.

Gold Rush by ShirleyCarlton (E, 71,783 w., 17 Ch. || Post S3 / No Mary, Friends to Lovers, Mentions of Past Sexual Abuse, First Kiss, Case Fic, Slow Burn, Alternating POV, Switchlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Marriage Proposal, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Abduction, Anxious/Insecure Sherlock, Miscommunication, Emotional Lovemaking) – John has divorced Mary and pops round to 221B one evening to find Sherlock in the middle of a case. As Sherlock tries to find the identity of a young woman’s stalker, John realises he can no longer deny his feelings for Sherlock – which then, to their befuddlement, turn out to be mutual. Shy kisses and tentative embraces ensue. But will Sherlock be able to cast off a shadow from his past that he thinks might prevent John from wanting to stay?

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Kintsukuroi by sussexbound (E, 91,823 w., 20 Ch. || S4 Compliant / Post-TLD, Grief / Mourning, PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Therapy, Past Abuse, Alcohol Abuse, Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Anxiety, Bed Sharing, Love Confessions, Cuddling, Suicidal Ideation, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Sexting, Frottage, Inexperienced Sherlock, Rimming / Anal / BJ’s, Emotional Turmoil, Finding Each Other) – “I love you.” Sherlock sees the words hit John with almost physical force. He reels back a little, jaw twitching and eyes filling. “I love you,” he repeats, a little softer, a little more gentle, as earnest as he possibly can. Because they’ve been teetering on the brink of this thing for years, and it had become painfully obvious over the last few months that they were at a tipping point. This had to happen. Now it has. Now they can see where they end up. The tears in John’s eyes spill over, and he wipes at them angrily. “Do you even know what that means?”  

The Summer Boy by khorazir (T, 94,706 w., 6 Ch. || Post S3/Post TAB/Alternate S4, Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Sussex, Bullying, 1980′s Kid Sherlock, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Inexperienced Sherlock, Grief/Mourning, Pining Sherlock, Background Case Fic) – About half a year after the fateful events at Appledore, Sherlock and John embark on a private case in Sussex. For Sherlock, it’s a journey into his past, bringing up memories both happy and sad that he has locked away for almost thirty years. For John, it means coming to terms with the present – and a potential future with Sherlock. Part 1 of the The Summer Boy series

Northwest Passage by Kryptaria (E, 95,157 w., 27 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canadian AU ||  BAMF!John, Canadian John, PTSD, Anal / Oral Sex, Rimming, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Drug Rehab, Falling in Love, Pining Sherlock, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Violin, Panic Attacks, Switching, Anxious / Protective Sherlock, Hugs for Comfort, Suicide Mentions, Healing Each Other) – Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn't truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes." Part 1 of Tales from the Northwest

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Against the Rest of the World by SilentAuror (E, 151,714 w., 20 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Hiatus Fic, POV First Person Sherlock, Present Tense, First Kiss/Time, Big Brother Mycroft, Escaping from Capture, Soft Sherlock, Toplock, Insecurity, Infidelity, Travelling, Introspection, Pining Sherlock, Depression, Fantasies, Yearning for the Past, PTSD Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation) – Sherlock has been away from London for nine hundred and twelve days and counting, and has no idea what sort of reception to expect when he finally returns.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

[sineala]

The gay Invaders

Hi, internet! Today I'd like to talk about one of the chronologically-first canonically-gay couples in Marvel Comics history: Brian Falsworth (the second Union Jack) and Roger Aubrey (The Destroyer). (I mean "chronological" in terms of in-universe timeline rather than RL publication date; I'm pretty sure Northstar is still the first to publication as far as unambiguously-gay Marvel heroes go.)

If you are a fan of reading or writing about Captain America being queer, you should care about Brian and Roger, because they were two of Steve's fellow Invaders in the 1940s, meaning that they are two of the people on the list of Steve's Old Gay Friends And Teammates, because, yeah, Steve sure had a lot of canonically gay friends during the war. Probably more than you'd think he would have had in the forties! (The other two are Percival Pinkerton, who's part of Nick Fury's Howling Commandos, and of course Steve's childhood friend Arnie Roth. Pinky is gay by word of Stan Lee, IIRC; Arnie was as canonically gay as DeMatteis could make him in the early 1980s, so they didn't say the word "gay" but it's really, really not subtle. Steve compares what Arnie feels for his "roommate" Michael to what Steve feels for his girlfriend Bernie. Yeah.)

I previously made a Tumblr post about Brian and Roger, rounding up some of the canonical evidence of their relationship, but that post is six years old now, and in the intervening years, Marvel has thoughtfully put the rest of the 70s Invaders run on Unlimited as well as the two Citizen V miniseries that star Roger and retcon his relationship with Brian as romantic. So I've read them now, and I've got panels.

Okay. I should probably begin by saying that Brian and Roger are not canonically gay in their first significant appearance together, which is in Invaders vol 1 #19 and #20, published in 1977. Roy Thomas does not seem to have intended them to be a couple, and they aren't canonically one in any of the original Invaders run. However, if you enjoy gay subtext, it's very nice.

This whole arc is the one that introduces Roger in modern canon. He's been brainwashed by the Nazis and the Invaders rescue him and get him back to his normal self. But in #19 we get his backstory in flashback, as related by Montgomery, Lord Falsworth (Brian's father; yes, MCU fans, the name should look familiar) and it turns out that Roger and Brian were basically best friends since childhood:

They were the dearest of friends!

Anyway, they both ended up captured by Nazis, they presumably changed their minds about appeasement as a policy, Brian got out and joined the Invaders, then they had to rescue the brainwashed Roger, and it's a fair amount of fun in a two-issue arc.

The subtext is even more prominent in Invaders #34, in which they find out that someone going by the Destroyer (which is Roger's codename) has been doing villainous deeds, and the Invaders worry that Roger's gotten himself brainwashed again. Brian immediately insists that it can't really be Roger because he knows Roger and Roger Would Never:

Unsurprisingly, Brian is right. It's not really Roger; Master Man is impersonating the Destroyer, and the villains have taken Roger captive, and the Invaders break him out and there is an extremely significant moment where it just so happens that Roger has to catch Brian, saving his life for a change, and they stare deeply into each other's eyes and Brian seems to be having difficulty finishing his sentences:

Some people who read this therefore concluded that Brian and Roger were extremely gay for each other. While ordinarily this sort of shipping is mostly confined to fandom, in this particular instance, one of the people who started shipping Brian/Roger was Fabian Nicieza, and Fabian Nicieza, as you probably know, writes comics for Marvel. I think you see where this is going.

However, first I must inform you that, sadly, Brian has been canonically dead for years. Captain America vol 1 #253-254 -- the two-parter about Baron Blood in the Stern/Byrne Cap run in the 80s -- establishes that Brian died in a car accident in 1953. (This is also the run where Joseph Chapman -- a friend of Jacqueline Falsworth's son Kenneth -- becomes the third (and current) Union Jack.)

(Roger then appears in a bunch of T-Bolts issues; I assume there's nothing interesting there on the gay front because I feel like someone would have told me. I should probably read more than three T-Bolts issues someday.)

So, anyway, in 2001, Fabian Nicieza wrote a miniseries called Citizen V and the V-Battalion. Roger, who is still superheroing as the Destroyer despite being pretty old by this point, is part of the titular V-Battalion, and he has a very prominent role in this miniseries. And in #1, we have the usual splash page of character backstory, and there's a very, um, interesting line there:

Regarding Brian and Roger's relationship, the narration informs us: "It sounds much gayer than it probably was."

This is interesting, obviously for a couple of reasons. One is that, up to this point in canon, as far as I can tell, literally nobody thought any of this sounded the slightest bit gay at all. (Other than, I guess, Fabian Nicieza.) The other reason is that, as we soon find out, it actually was as gay as it sounds. Thanks, Fabian!

In 2002, Nicieza wrote a second miniseries, Citizen V and the V-Battalion: The Everlasting. Issue #1 opens with a flashback set in 1953; specifically, we see Brian's funeral:

Roger is extremely sad, and when Lord Falsworth expresses his sympathy about the death of Roger's "friend" and saying that he knows how much this hurts him, Roger mutters under his breath that he doesn't have the slightest clue:

All is revealed on the next page, when one of the other characters tries to ask Roger about superhero business and Roger snaps at him because, as he says, "I just watched my friend die in my arms."

Except "friend" isn't the word he starts to say:

Yep. That would be "lover." So Roger nearly outs himself. So, yes, now it's absolutely canon. Hooray.

Later on in the issue, which is set in the present day, we have a couple pages of Roger staring at pictures of the two of them and continuing to be sad:

Yeah. They were a couple.

So the question you -- being a Captain America fan -- might ask yourself is, okay, did/does Steve know about any of this? (The reason I started looking all this up was because I wanted to know if Steve knew.) I don't know if we have a panel of Roger specifically admitting any of this to Steve (and if we do, I would like to know about it), but I would be comfortable saying that Steve probably knew back then -- because, well, he seems like the kind of guy who would actually have been fine with it in the 40s, what with all his gay friends -- and also that I can't think of a reason why he wouldn't know now. Because he's definitely worked with Roger again in fairly recent comics, and also Roger is very much out, these days.

In fact, New Invaders #4 (2004) opens with Roger attending Pride:

So, yeah, he's out.

(Then he has to fight, as far as I can tell, homophobic Nazi vampires. They're yelling slurs in German. Great.)

In All-New Invaders #10, which is from 2014 (and which is not the same series as New Invaders), Roger shows up to help out the Invaders, and in passing, he just happens to mention to another character (Joseph Chapman, the current Union Jack), that he is in fact gay:

He and Joseph don't really like each other much; as far as I can tell, their acquaintance in New Invaders consists of Joseph being vaguely homophobic and Roger being bitter about him being Union Jack because he actually wanted to be Union Jack himself to honor Brian's memory -- you know, that thing superheroes sometimes like to do to honor their dead superhero significant others, viz. Hank when Jan was dead after Secret Invasion -- and now Union Jack is this annoying kid and not, y'know, the love of his life. This exchange from New Invaders #4 seems pretty representative of their relationship:

Anyway, yeah, he's pretty obviously out.

Steve isn't actually present for this conversation in All-New Invaders, but he mentions in a later issue of this run that he knows what Roger and his pals have been up to, plot-wise, so I feel comfortable assuming that he's talked to Roger at some point in the previous ten years or so, and therefore, since Roger is completely out at this point in canon, there's no reason Steve shouldn't know now.

On an unrelated note, it's also a fun issue if you're a Steve/Tony fan because this is clearly running in parallel with Hickman's Avengers run, which means that he spends half a page telling Namor that he's mad at him and the rest of the Illuminati (but mostly mad at Tony because... he's just obsessed with Tony in this run, I guess?) about the mindwipe:

This is the sum total of my knowledge about Brian and Roger. No, wait, I know one more thing, which is that Brian was a character in the late, lamented mobile game Avengers Academy, in which he was also actually gay; Roger does not seem to have been there. There's a CBR article that you can read about the whole thing, which mentions some of these details from the comics in passing. (I have no idea why it says that their relationship was alluded to in the Stern/Byrne run; unless I missed something big, the only thing those issues do is establish Brian's death. As far as I can tell, no one is gay in them.)

So, yeah, that's Brian Falsworth and Roger Aubrey, the two gay Invaders. Steve sure has a lot of gay friends.

[sapphosclown]

Kiss Him You Fool - Willex Oneshot

aka willie and flynn are best friends and she’s done with this mutual pining bullshit. (boys are alive bc i didn’t feel like thinking about ghost logistics today lmao)

so i didn’t get to participate in willex week nearly as much as i wanted to so this is my song fic/au fic (i guess? since the guys are alive? idk) for free day since i didn’t get the idea till last night at 1am. anyways i also didn’t sign up for the gift exchange but i still wanna dedicate this fic to @fairygclds for hosting this week bc she did an amazing job and i love her v much, ty mari <3

title is from Kiss Her You Fool by Kids That Fly, cute song highly recommend

rbs and comments appreciated :)

———

———

That was real right? He didn’t make that up in his head? That happened. Right?

Willie was abruptly knocked out of their thoughts as his board hit a crack in the sidewalk, sending him onto the pavement, scraping his knee. Although, the stinging did help them snap out of the daze he was in, making him realize that yes, this is real life, and yes, he and Alex Mercer almost kissed.

***

“Stop, you’re not allowed to be that good at everything.” Willie teased as Alex just barely completed a loop around him.

“I feel like we are experiencing different timelines here or something.” Alex let out a shaky laugh as he flailed his arms in an attempt to regain the balance he’d just lost. Luckily, Willie held out their arm for him to grab just in time.

“Come on, you’re doing great! Just need to have a little more faith in yourself.” Willie smiled gently, offering extra support with his free hand.

Alex scoffed. “I think I’m a roller skating kind of guy.”

“Well, I disagree but if that’s how you feel—”

Alex rolled his eyes, making Willies stomach flutter. He helped him off the skateboard and they sat down on the couch in the studio. Willie ignored the fact that despite having the entire couch to themselves, they sat right up against each other, and he especially ignored the way their knees touching made his heart beat faster than normal.

“Actually, I think solid ground is where it’s at.” Alex said, only half-joking.

“I guess, but the wheels add some spice that solid ground could never live up to.”

“Exactly. You know exactly what you’re getting with solid ground. Me and wheels have a complicated relationship.���

“Oh really? You guys have a falling out?” Willie teased.

“Ha, yeah. There was some falling.” Alex gave a sarcastic laugh.

“But that’s the fun part! You can get some pretty rad scars from skating.” Willie pointed out.

“‘Rad?’ What, are you from the 80’s?”

“Listen—” Willie shushed him, shoving his shoulder into him playfully.

They laughed for a moment before falling into a comfortable silence. Willie was really tempted to lay his head onto Alex’s shoulder, or hold his hand.

His hand was right there. It would be so easy... But instead he grabbed their own hand and started messing with their fingers.

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the day?” He asked lamely.

“We’re rehearsing for our gig tomorrow night. Luke and Julie are going over the set list one last time right now but we should be starting pretty soon.” Alex replied, checking the time on his phone before looking back at Willie. “Actually, if you wanna hangout while we rehearse, I don’t think they’d mind.”

“Oh, yeah! That sounds great!” Willie smiled.

“Cool.” Alex nodded, and maybe he was seeing things, but Willie could’ve sworn his cheeks were turning pink. That made him giggle.

“So, what’s the set list then?” They asked curiously. He shifted his body so that he could look at Alex, only mildly upset about the loss of contact, but being able to see the faded pink in Alex’s cheeks made up for it.

“Well, usually we start with Edge of Great, but Julie and Luke wrote this new song that is perfect to open with and I just know everyone’s gonna love it—”

Willie stared at Alex as he rambled on about the show and they couldn’t help the soft smile on their lips. Alex noticed almost immediately and stopped talking, almost embarrassed.

“What?” He asked.

“No, it’s nothing.” Willie said, waving his hand for them to move past it.

“No, I feel like you’re judging me!” Alex giggled.

“No! I’m not judging you!” Willie reassured. “You’re just really cute when you talk about music.” He said softly.

Alex went bright red. “Oh.” He replied in the same tone.

The air around them went quiet again, but this time filled with a different feeling. The feeling that there was nothing else in the world but the two of them. And suddenly their faces were a lot closer than Willie had realized. His eyes flicked down to Alex’s lips subconsciously and then back to his eyes, which he found were doing the same thing. There was nothing stopping him, all he had to do was lean in just a little bit more...

“WHO’S READY TO MAKE SOME MUSIC!” Reggie called excitedly as he entered the garage, making Willie and Alex jump apart. Reggie eyed them suspiciously. “Oh, hey Willie.” He said, eyebrows pulled together like he was piecing together what just happened.

“Hey.” Willie breathed uncomfortably. He felt like he couldn’t get enough air.

“Are you gonna hangout for rehearsal?” Reggie asked.

“Actually, uh, I gotta get going.” Willie sputtered before his brain could catch up to his mouth. They stood up and grabbed their things messily.

“I thought you said—”

“I just remembered I have to do something.” Willie cut Alex off. “I’ll see you tomorrow though?”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Alex said quietly, failing at hiding his disappointment and making Willies chest ache.

“Cool.” Willie said. “See ya.” He threw an awkward peace sign at Reggie (who gave him one back) and skated out of the garage as fast as he possibly could.

***

“You are a disaster.” Flynn scolded, grabbing a dinosaur band-aid out of her desk drawer.

“I know!” Willie yelled into her pillow. She plopped down onto the bed in front of him.

“Why didn’t you just kiss him! You had the opportunity and he clearly wanted to kiss you too!” She yelled.

“I don’t know!” Willie whined, throwing the pillow back down into his lap. “I wanted to but I froze! And then Reggie showed up and I couldn’t stay after that! What if he didn’t want that to happen, what if he hates me now!”

“He doesn’t hate you! He’s very clearly in love with you, I don’t know what you’re not understanding about this.” She peeled the paper off the band-aid and carefully stuck it to Willies knee.

“You don’t know that.” He huffed.

“Who do you think you’re talking to? He likes you. When have I ever been wrong?”

They hated to admit it, but there have been very few times Flynn has been wrong.

“Fine. But what am I supposed to do?”

“Go back there? Ask him on a date or kiss him or just literally do anything.”

“I can’t go back! He’s rehearsing! I don’t wanna barge in while they’re rehearsing. And I left so fast it’d be so awkward—”

“Stop making excuses!” Flynn shook their shoulders, as they pouted. “Call him and say you forgot something.”

“I didn’t forget anything.” He said plainly. Flynn shot him a look.

“Duh! I know that, but if you tell him you’re coming back to get something then you can’t chicken out.” She explained, exasperated.

“Oh! Well what should I say I forgot?”

“Your phone, that's a reasonable thing you’d need to get back.”

“Okay. Okokok.” Willie mumbled to themself pulling out his phone and scrolling through his contacts before Flynn snatched it from them.

“What are you doing?”

“Calling him like you said!”

“Use my phone dummy! If you call him from your phone he’ll know you didn’t leave it there!” She opened her phone and before Willie realized what was happening, the phone was ringing on speaker.

“Hello?” Alex’s voice cracked through the phone.

Flynn looked at Willie and then back to the phone when he just sat there mouth agape.

“Um, hi. It’s Willie, not Flynn, I, um, left my phone in the studio and I’m on my way back to grab it.” They stuttered, hitting his head at his awkwardness.

“Oh alright. See you soon, then.”

“Yup. See ya.” Willie threw his head in his hands, their face turning bright red. Flynn ended the call and leaned against her wall with their arms crossed.

“You really are a disaster huh.” She teased.

Willie threw his pillow at them playfully and jumped off the bed. “I hate you.” He laughed.

“Love you too.” She grinned slyly. “Now, go tell your boyfriend he’s cool and you wanna kiss him!”

Willie groaned as he grabbed his things as Flynn shooed him out of her room.

***

“He’s coming back.” Alex said quickly. His friends shared the same look as they all “ooooooo”d at him.

“Guys stop! What do I do!” He cried.

“Man calm down, it’s alright.” Reggie consoled him.

“Why’re they coming back?” Julie asked turning her keyboard off so she can lean on the keys.

“Said they forgot their phone.” Alex replied.

“Mhm, right. Sure he did.” Luke teased. If he were closer Alex would’ve shoved him but he felt like he was glued to his seat.

“What do I do?” Alex asked again.

“I mean, we can keep rehearsing till he gets here if that’ll take your mind off of it?” Julie suggested.

God bless Julie. Alex nodded.

“I don’t know, it seems like he and Willie have some unfinished business.” Reggie winked.

“No! Nothing was happening! Nothing happened, it’s nothing. He just needs his phone back.” Alex tried to ignore his friends snickering but his mind flashed back to Willie on the couch in front of him. He really thought Willie had wanted to kiss him, but if how he left says anything, Alex must’ve misread the situation. They probably hated him.

“Dude, I can practically hear your thoughts and I promise you, he likes you.” Reggie assured him.

“You can’t know that for sure.” Alex mumbled, watching his drumstick twirl through his fingers.

“Maybe not but, we’ve all noticed how they look at you.” Luke cut in.

“It’s not exactly a secret.” Julie said sweetly.

“I just... I care about them a lot and what if you’re wrong and that’s just how he acts with his friends—”

“No, dude, we’re not letting you talk yourself out of this one.” Luke laughed.

“Seriously, Alex, you should go for it!” Reggie said encouragingly, walking around his drums to clap his shoulder.

Alex thought about it, he really did. He really thought for a second that he could do it, he could just lean forward and kiss him and they’d live happily ever after. But he over thought it, as usual.

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” He shrugged.

“You can’t just wait for someday! You gotta go after what you want!” Luke exclaimed. Julie nodded.

Alex smiled at his friends. He appreciated their support but he couldn’t help but be afraid. Deep down, he knew they were right. He knew if Reggie had been just a minute later... But he still didn’t want to get his hopes up too high. Because there’s always that what if that won’t leave him alone.

There was a gentle knock on the garage doors as Willie stepped into view, he was hugging his arms and had a soft smile on his face. They carefully waved at everyone before he made eye contact with Alex, and suddenly it felt just like they were on the couch again. Just the two of them.

You know what. Maybe it’s time for someday.

Alex stood up from his drums and walked over to Willie, trying to act nonchalant. He heard Julie clear her throat to get the other two to stop staring at them and at least pretend to do something else.

“Hey.” Alex breathed.

“Hey.” Willie replied. “Can I actually see you, out here?” He asked shyly, nodding his head out side.

Alex nodded and followed Willie out of view of his band mates.

“Sorry, I probably should’ve looked for your phone before you got here but—” before Alex could finish his sentence Willie had cupped Alex’s face and pulled him into a kiss.

Alex felt like his heart had just exploded and he wasn’t completely sure if he was real anymore, but then he felt his hand rest on Willies cheek and he could confirm that yes, this was happening.

It didn’t last longer than a few seconds before Willie pulled away again. Their eyes searched Alex’s face for any sign of his emotion but Alex had completely stopped functioning and didn’t quite know what to do until he felt Willies grip on his face loosen.

“I’m sorry—” He tried to retract his hands but Alex held them in place, and he couldn’t help but laugh. He saw Willie’s worry fade and Alex pulled him back into a kiss. This one much softer, less rushed. No longer a question, but an answer.

They pulled apart and Alex noticed Willie shrinking down a bit and smiled to himself.

“Do you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss me?” He asked cheekily.

Willie raised his eyebrows. “That’s the question you have right now?”

Alex nodded, his smile unmoving.

“I’m glad you have your priorities set.” Willie laughed.

“Definitely.” Alex whispered. “Priority number one, make you stand on your tiptoes to kiss me again.”

“You’re mean.” Willie pouted. Alex laughed and Willie gave him a playful shove before Alex pulled him back onto his tiptoes.

“It’s about time.” Reggie whispered as he Luke and Julie peeked around the door and watched their friend.

“Luke,” He stood up straight and held out his hand.

Luke groaned and fished for his wallet in his pockets, handing him a $20 bill.

“Thank you.” Reggie said smugly, pocketing the cash.

Julie laughed and shook her head at her friends and they all made their way back to their respective instruments. Julie pulled out her phone.

Flynn: did he do it??

Julie: yup. reggie’s $20 richer

Flynn: about time!! took those fools long enough, geez

Julie: really tho

Alex walked back into the studio a blushing smiley mess and sat at his drums again, not saying a word despite his friends staring at him expectantly.

He scanned their faces from his seat behind his drums.

“From the top?”

———

———

a/n: let it be known that reggie used that $20 to buy a fish and he named it Gil and he is the best fish dad ever

[route22ny]

BY MICHAEL J. MOONEY | PHOTOGRAPHS BY DAVE SHAFER

Staring at the front of the Royal Theater, I feel as though I’m looking backward through time. Taking in the cerulean marquee, the painted red fringe around the box office, the vertical ROYAL sign jutting into the afternoon sky—it’s easy to imagine why the denizens of Archer County flocked here for decades. The theater was a dark, cool respite from the blazing sun, a still escape from the whipping winds of the North Central Plains, a glimpse of entertainment from the outside world.

The theater—or what’s left of it anyway—peers out from the northeast corner of the town square. Without the storied theater, this could be any small town in Texas. Weathered barns and rusted oil pumps dot the landscape. Anchoring the town is the imposing three-story Romanesque Revival county courthouse, with stone archways and provincial peaks. There’s also a small café (Murn’s), a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it police station, a few antiques stores, and a single four-way stoplight swaying in the breeze like an apparition.

The Royal Theater as it is now and as it was then.

This isn’t just any small town in Texas, though. Archer City is the Texas small town. It’s the setting of both the novel and film versions of The Last Picture Show, a coming-of-age story rendered in black and white that earned eight Academy Award nominations, including Best Writing (Adapted Screenplay), Best Directing, and Best Picture. In Larry McMurtry’s book, published in 1966, the town is called Thalia. In the movie, directed by Peter Bogdanovich and released in 1971, it’s called Anarene—a name taken from an abandoned town 8 miles away. But rest assured, both places are Archer City: the looming courthouse, the blinking stoplight, and the Royal Theater, where so many of the most dramatic moments of The Last Picture Show take place.

The novel, which McMurtry called a “spiteful” book intended to “lance some of the poisons of small-town life,” received critical acclaim when it was published. But it was Bogdanovich’s film that truly introduced the entire world, in utterly unromanticized fashion, to the intense, sweeping sagas of everyday life in Archer City. The Last Picture Show turned this particular and peculiar town into art.

Both the novel and movie contain language that was considered lewd at the time. McMurtry’s own mother, Hazel, once said that after reading the first 100 pages she hid the book in the closet and called her son that night. “Larry, honey,” she said to him, he revealed in his 2002 travel memoir Paradise, “is this what we’re sending you to Rice for? Those awful words!”

The film, with its nudity and frank depiction of teenage sexuality—including Cybill Shepherd’s first and only topless scene—absolutely scandalized upright, moral Americans all over the country. Nowhere more so than in Archer City, where it was regarded at the time as a “dirty” movie.

Now, 50 years after the film’s release, the town’s past dalliances with Hollywood are somehow simultaneously scuttled and omnipresent. There’s no billboard at the city limit announcing the place’s cultural significance, no notation on the water tower. But there are echoes of the art formed here, about this place, along every street, around every corner. Some might even feel the spirit of McMurtry, who passed away in Archer City earlier this year.

Over the last five decades, Peter Bogdanovich, a New Yorker who operated in Los Angeles, has told the story of the movie’s origin many times. He’d seen the novel in a store, liked the title, saw what it was about, and immediately put the book back down. Then actor Sal Mineo, who’d starred alongside James Dean and Natalie Wood in Rebel Without a Cause, gave Bogdanovich a copy of the novel, saying he thought it would make a good film. Bogdanovich still didn’t read it, but gave it to his wife, production designer Polly Platt, and asked her to read it. When she inspired him to finally read it himself, he was intrigued by the challenge of conveying small-town life in Texas and eventually co-wrote the screenplay with McMurtry. Bogdanovich, Platt, and McMurtry took a long road trip scouting locations in Texas, but ultimately the director realized he wanted to shoot the movie in McMurtry’s hometown.

Set in the early 1950s, the story follows three teenagers—the co-captains of the football team and the so-called prettiest girl in school—through their senior year of high school, as they each struggle to make sense of adult concepts like love and sex and the fragility of human life. Sonny Crawford is the sensitive, thoughtful boy from a broken home. Duane Jackson is Sonny’s lovelorn best friend who escapes first into the oil fields and then the Korean War. Jacy Farrow is the coquettish rich girl who yearns wholeheartedly for something beyond the confines of her surroundings. The Last Picture Show also famously includes an ensemble of carefully rendered adults trying to cope with their own expired dreams and broken lives.

McMurtry repeated over the years that the characters he created weren’t based on any real-life individuals, but the people of Archer City always suspected otherwise. A man named Bobby Stubbs, who was photographed with McMurtry in their high school yearbook, believed he was the inspiration for Sonny. Stubbs had a troubled home life and worked nights like Sonny, and he drove the same kind of pickup truck. He was also once hit in the eye by the boyfriend of a girl he liked. “It kinda pretty closely followed me,” Stubbs used to say.

A woman named Ceil Cleveland Footlick was often asked if she was the inspiration for Jacy. She was “very good friends” (her words) with Stubbs and had been voted “Most Beautiful Girl” in her class. For years she brushed off the question, but in 1997 she published a memoir with the title Whatever Happened to Jacy Farrow?

Because of the book’s reputation, getting actors to audition was a challenge. Randy Quaid was cast as Lester, an awkward, sleazy suitor of Jacy’s. He’d only read the parts of the script that involved his character, which mostly centered on Lester taking Jacy to a naked swimming party. “I just thought it was going to be like this B-movie, teenage, soft-porn movie,” Quaid would later say. “Something you’d see at the drive-in.”

None of the young stars had much experience in film. Timothy Bottoms, who’d only been in one movie before, was cast to play Sonny. Jeff Bridges, cast as Duane, had been a professional actor nearly all his life, but at 21 years old, this would be his first major film role. And Bogdanovich cast Shepherd as Jacy after seeing her face on the cover of Glamour magazine.

Most of the adults in the movie were played by established Hollywood actors, including Cloris Leachman, Ellen Burstyn, and Eileen Brennan. For the role of Sam the Lion, the wisdom-dispensing owner of the town’s pool hall, Bogdanovich cast Ben Johnson, the champion-rodeo-cowboy-turned-stuntman-turned-Western-movie-icon. At first Johnson turned down the part on account of the foul language, but Bogdanovich called in a favor from his director friend John Ford, who convinced Johnson to do it.

Almost as soon as filming started, real life began imitating the art being created. While making a movie about illicit sex and barely veiled scandal, the set was awash in illicit sex and barely veiled scandal. The actors spent a lot of time drinking and smoking together in their hotel rooms 30 minutes north in Wichita Falls, and that led to drama. Bottoms fell in love with Shepherd. Bogdanovich started an affair with Shepherd, dissolving his own marriage while his wife, Platt, continued to work on the movie. (Most mornings Platt styled Shepherd’s hair.) “It was quite a soap opera,” Burstyn said in the documentary Picture This: The Times of Peter Bogdanovich in Archer City, Texas.

This was everything the locals had feared: all the immoral luridness of Hollywood, right here in a part of Texas not so comfortable with unwholesomeness that didn’t stay behind closed doors.

Outside of Archer City, it was a different story. The movie received great reviews from coast to coast. Johnson won the Oscar for Actor in a Supporting Role and Leachman won for Actress in a Supporting Role. The film is still beloved today and maintains a spot in the coveted National Film Registry.

But at the time of its release, most of the locals disapproved. Strongly. The Los Angeles Times ran a story about it with the headline “Movie Riles Town It Depicts.” McMurtry, who was involved in Bogdanovich’s vision, eventually got so annoyed by the vicious gossip in town that he sent a letter to the editor of the Archer City newspaper, challenging anyone in town to a public debate.

His offer went unrequited.

Archer City’s population is 1,848, only a couple hundred larger than it was when McMurtry grew up there in the ’30s and ’40s. The town is the seat of Archer County, created in 1858 by the Texas State Legislature and named after Branch Tanner Archer, former secretary of war of the Republic of Texas. Ranching and oil have long been the predominant industries—by late 1926, there were more than 400 oil wells within 13 miles of Archer City—but many people are increasingly attracted to the town for its proximity to prime hunting.

Many of the locations where The Last Picture Show was filmed are gone now. Where Sam’s dusty pool hall once stood, with its door flapping in the wind, there’s nothing but an empty dirt lot. The Rig-Wam Drive Inn, the burger joint where Jacy dangled french fries over Duane’s head as if he was a trained seal, is just a plot of asphalt and patchy grass. The West-Tex Theater in the neighboring town of Olney, used for the interior movie theater scenes, was torn down in the mid-’80s. Today it’s a small, quiet park with a gazebo.

Some places are still here, but different. The restaurant where Brennan’s character worked turned into Booked Up No. 4, one of four bookstores McMurtry set up around the town square before shuttering all but one in 2012. The high school has some of the same old features, though it’s been updated and decorated with a handful of granite statues marking state titles the school has won through the years.

Much of the town looks and acts remarkably like it did when The Last Picture Show was made. Boys about the age of Duane and Sonny still speed through town in pickup trucks. Men the age of Sam the Lion still stop them to talk about football. The dance hall at the American Legion, where Jacy and Duane twirled around the room and Sonny ran into his estranged father, looks like it could host the same event today. On a recent evening, four or five locals were perched on barstools, sipping cold beers, listening to songs on the jukebox. They got rid of the old Wurlitzer years ago, but the updated digital version there now still plays all the Hank Williams Sr. songs from the movie.

In time, feelings in Archer City softened a bit. Mostly, the people here don’t talk much about the movie, or about McMurtry, the town’s most famous son. You can spend all morning at Murn’s Café and all night at the American Legion, the only bar in town, and never hear The Last Picture Show mentioned once. It’s not the source of tension it once was.

The public change of heart was most apparent in 1989, nearly 20 years after The Last Picture Show was filmed, when Bogdanovich returned to Archer City to shoot the sequel, Texasville, based on a book of the same name by McMurtry. This time the townspeople lined up to participate as extras. People came from miles away to sell concessions or to take photos or just get a glimpse of the nearly $20 million production.

“The bad taste that the movie left for some folks, that’s gone now,” then-high school principal Nat Lunn told the Austin American-Statesman at the time. “Especially with money being short in town, they’re ready for another dose of Hollywood.”

By the late 1980s, the three leads in the first film—Bottoms, Bridges, and Shepherd—had all become stars. While the entire budget for the first movie was around $1.3 million, Shepherd alone was paid $1.5 million to reprise her role. Bridges was reportedly paid $1.75 million. Bottoms, who’d complained publicly about Bogdanovich and said he didn’t like any of his co-stars, would only agree to return if he was given an additional $100,000 to fund the Picture This documentary.

In the two decades since the first movie, Bogdanovich’s career had soared and crashed. He and Shepherd had broken up; he went on to have multiple relationships, and she had two divorces. Bottoms was also divorced and remarried, but on the set he confessed the crush he’d had on Shepherd. Platt returned, too, and brought the 21-year-old daughter she and Bogdanovich shared. It became a grand, twisted Hollywood reunion, right there on the streets of Archer City.

Drawn by the potential spectacle of what was by then some sort of love-octagon, media outlets from across the country sent reporters to town. There were long feature stories in both Entertainment Weekly and the Los Angeles Times. By all accounts, though, the entire production served as a therapeutic experience, healing the wounds of the past. At one press conference, the often-sullen Bottoms hugged Bogdanovich. Behind-the-scenes footage caught Shepherd hugging Bottoms. Residents of Archer County took photos of themselves on the set.

But when the movie was released, it tanked. It received middling reviews, earned back only a fraction of its budget, and even today it’s not easy to find on any of the major streaming services.

A lot of people associated with The Last Picture Show are dead now. Stubbs, who claimed to be the basis for Sonny, died in 1992. Johnson in 1996. Sam Bottoms, the real-life younger brother of Timothy Bottoms who played the mute boy Billy, died in 2008. Platt, the producer and production designer who somehow never pulled Shepherd’s hair, died in 2011. Then Brennan in 2013.

In January of this year, Footlick, the woman who wrote about being the real Jacy Farrow, died in North Carolina. Leachman died almost two weeks later. And on March 25, McMurtry, the writer who created all this beautiful trouble, died at the age of 84.

A few days after his death, nobody answered the doorbell at his house in Archer City, a majestic, three-story mansion just down the road from the high school. Looking through the front window, everything seemed to me to be just the way he left it, from the table made from a giant dinosaur fossil to the towering shelves of books in every room. McMurtry bought this place, the biggest home in town, after he won the Pulitzer Prize for Lonesome Dove. He’d wake up early in the morning, type for an hour and a half or so at his long oak table, then go to the bookstore to price antiquarian volumes. Most of the locals would leave him alone.

On the house’s front porch, a single rocking chair was situated to look out over the front yard into the surrounding neighborhood. Someone sitting there could see the comings and goings of a lot of people. As the early-evening wind moved through, the chair began to rock ever so gently.

These days, I sense the people of Archer City think differently of The Last Picture Show. It’s a part of the town’s story, just like the cattle industry and state titles. The movie is even mentioned on the town’s website, though it’s certainly not prominent.

There’s also a tiny park just off the square with a fiberglass horse covered in brands from local ranches and a display that chronicles a bit of the town’s history. The welded metal wall has separate panels for the town’s founding, the first successful oil well drilled here, and the giant fire that swept through in 1925. There’s also a panel explaining how the town was the filming location for The Last Picture Show and Texasville. Bogdanovich’s last name is misspelled.

A couple hundred feet away is the Royal Theater. Most of the building is a burned-out hull, popular for weddings, photo shoots, and occasional performances. The front of the building has been restored, though. It looks just like it did in the movie, the image that begins and ends the film. It’s haunting and beautiful, weathered and damaged—but still here, still standing, still looking at that single blinking light swaying in the wind.

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The Last Picture Show wasn’t the first movie based on a novel by Larry McMurtry, and it certainly wasn’t the last. You might besurprised by just how many films and TV shows have been made from his novels. Here are a few:

Hud, 1963 (based on Horseman, Pass By) The Last Picture Show, 1971 Lovin’ Molly, 1974 (based on Leaving Cheyenne) Terms of Endearment, 1983 Lonesome Dove, 1989 Texasville, 1990 The Evening Star, 1996

https://texashighways.com/culture/how-the-last-picture-show-changed-the-worlds-view-of-small-town-texas/