#but for the purposes of. seven sentences sunday?

[gaytommykinard]

last snippet of the fake dating au because i'm almost done writing and will post soon!!!

Evan shuffles closer, pressing a kiss to Tommy’s chin, then settles with his head tucked in the crook of Tommy’s neck. “My evil ploy worked.”

“Your evil ploy?”

“Yeah, you know, pretending I need a fake boyfriend, bla bla. I’ve been playing you from the beginning, Tommy.” 

Tommy snorts a laugh. “Nice try. You’re not that good an actor, honey.”

Evan pokes him in the chest a couple of times, then flattens his palm in between his pecs. “How did you know?”

“That you’re into me?”

“Yeah.”

Tommy breathes out a sigh. He wraps an arm around Evan’s shoulder, bringing him closer and holding him tightly before he rolls onto his back, smiling to himself as Evan settles with his head on his shoulder. “You followed me to the bathroom, for one.”

[wikiangela]

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @tizniz 💖

well, today it's actually only 6 sentences bc I just started this last night lol - a new wip! still working on my 7x10 coda but had this idea of buck slowly moving in without either of them noticing and had to start it lol (don't ask me how many bucktommy wips i have rn, i can't even count them all lmao)

___

Tommy doesn’t notice it right away. He doesn’t even pay it any mind once it’s pointed out for the first few times. It’s happening so slowly, so subtly, and he wonders if Evan’s doing it on purpose or maybe he missed it, too. Because the thing is, he’s pretty sure his boyfriend is moving in with him, one item at a time. And Tommy had no idea. And knowing Evan, Tommy’s pretty sure he has no idea, either.

___

no pressure tags: @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @diazpatcher @monsterrae1 @weewootruck @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @bucks-daddy-issues @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @daffi-990 @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @thewolvesof1998 @exhuastedpigeon @underwaterninja13 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @your-catfish-friend @dangerpronebuddie @loveyouanyway @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @kinard-buckley @bidisasterevankinard @the-hoziest

if anyone wants to stop being tagged just lmk pls

[lemonzestywrites]

seven sentence sunday

tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz MWAH ty bestie adore you!!

i know zesty’s back to writing— CRAZY right? anyways here’s a little bucktommy fix-it fic cause if i’m being honest gang even as much as my multishipper heart loves buddie that breakup was fucking wack and if there’s anything i love doing, it’s ignoring canon when it suits me

anyways hope y’all enjoy :)

====

“He wanted serious, and I—” Something violent. A grey and harsh shoots through his veins. A sicken feeling that Tommy hasn’t felt in so long. He almost forgot what it felt like. He swallows deeply, trying to shove the rash of emotion that threatens to crawl up his throat. He glances over, hoping his eyes don’t look as wet as they feel. “Lucy, no one wants serious. Not with me.”

“It sounds like Buck does,” she insists.

For a second, a fleeting moment, hope flickers in his heart. Dancing at the idea of something more. But the emotion only lasts for so long before it feels extinguished by something else— something greater.

It’s like a dog he can’t control, something rapid and full of hate. Tired of mistreatment, of being used for another purpose. It kicks back wildly at the thought, harsh memories shooting back through his mind so many times before.

Of promises pressed into intimate skin. Of someone else he used to know so damn well that left him like a stranger at a train stop. In another life maybe it worked out. But being used isn’t abnormal to Tommy. He’s better as an experience.

A fragment of time that was glorious and good. Like a meteor shower hung beautifully in the sky that you witness for the night while the moon sits overhead. The promise of something better.

Tommy redirects his eyes back into his locker, head down as he finishes buttoning up his suit, prominently ignoring the hung photo of him and Evan on a picnic date a few weeks back that Tommy hasn’t had the heart to take down yet.

“Sal didn’t.”

tagging - @hippolotamus @devirnis @aroeddiediaz @jeeyuns @shyaudacity

[in-my-loki-feels]

Seven Sentence Sunday

Thank you for the tags @elodiah @lokimobius @thosegayoldmen @kcscribbler @devilbearingtrouble!

@wolfpup026's Avengers AU set up camp in brain from the moment I saw it and wouldn't leave until I started writing, so here's a taste of what I've been working on:

From the moment Mobius had put a steadying hand on Loki’s back, he'd known what his purpose was. Protect, protect, protect, became the mantra inside him.  And far below that a whisper of, Obey.  At first, he'd been frozen in place, flooded by fear as he watched the other S.H.I.E.L.D. members go down. Then his training had kicked in and he’d tried to get to the scientists to protect them. He'd still been processing what this newcomer had done to Barton to get him to holster his gun, when suddenly the man was in front of Mobius. Tall, radiating an almost manic glee, but with a hollowed-out look to him.

Tagging @andthekitchensinkao3 and anyone else who wants to join in! <3

[affectionatelyrs]

Seven Sentence Sunday🌟

I've gotten so many tags today which means that I've gotten to read so many amazing snippets - thank you @littlemisskittentoes @welcometololaland @adreamareads @nocoastposts @itsmaybitheway @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @magicandarchery @getmehighonmagic @leaves-of-laurelin and @kiwiana-writes

I'm almost done with the truth or dare fic and like... I'm genuinely so excited to post it. It's been a while since I've posted, and I just really like this fic for some reason. So here's more than seven sentences because I can (and because I accidentally made people think that this fic is angsty last week and it's not)

“So…back to the game, then?” Henry seems to mull this over in his mind before replying, “Sure, why not. I could go for a few more rounds.” Alex doesn’t choke on the sip of his drink he’d been in the process of taking, but it’s a damn close thing. He doesn’t know if Henry knows how dirty that sounded, but Alex sure does. It does nothing to quell his imagination from conjuring up an image of Henry in bed, flushed and panting yet begging for more, that he can go again, that he can take it. That he can take Alex. Fucking… Fuck. “Whose turn was it?” Henry asks while Alex is busy pondering the merits of throwing himself out their fifth-story window and hoping his boner doesn’t take anyone’s eye out on his way down. “Forgive me, but I am a bit tired. Do you think you could take it?” There’s no way that Henry’s not doing this on purpose. He makes words mean things when put in a certain order for a living, for fucks sake. Alex almost quips back depends on how big it is just to see how—or if—Henry would react.

No pressure tagging @anchoredarchangel @anincompletelist @sherryvalli @dumbpeachjuice @firenati0n @gayrootvegetable @leojfitz @lizzie-bennetdarcy @whimsymanaged @everwitch-magiks @read-and-write- @rmd-writes @tintagel-or-cockleshells @inexplicablymine @orchidscript @cultofsappho @cricketnationrise @bigassbowlingballhead @myheartalivewrites and @matherines

[hbyrde36]

WIP Something

Last Thursday @dreamwatch tagged me in a post that for her counted towards a Seven Sentence Sunday tag and a WIP Wednesday tag. And I was ill and not really writing for a few days there, but today—TODAY I made words happen and a pretty big push towards finally getting the next (THE PENULTIMATE) chapter of a WIP out.

And oh haha look we're back at Wednesday which was totally on purpose! 😅

So, anyway

Words:

“Huh,” Eddie huffed, flopping down onto Chrissy’s neatly made bed. It jostled the carefully arranged mountain of pillows that were stacked up against the headboard, sending several of them tumbling to the floor. Why did girls always have so many goddamn pillows? “So that’s why you never let me come in here before. You do live in a two bedroom!” Chrissy bent to retrieve her fallen children and put them back in their proper place, except for the last, a bright pink fuzzy number with a cross-stitched peace sign on its front that she wacked him in the back of the head with. “I thought we’d moved past this. Haven't I apologized enough for the setup?” Eddie stuck out his bottom lip, arms crossing over his chest. “Will the lies never cease, Christine? I feel robbed! You and Robin were never sharing a bed?!” “We are now and that’s what matters, right?” “Yeah, yeah,” Eddie waved a hand through the air. “But where’s the pining for the person lying right next to you night after night?! Where’s the lovesick staring at the other person’s face while they sleep and wishing you could just tell them how you feel?! Where’s the drama?!” “I think we've had more than enough of that around here—for life. Maybe now it’s time for us all to just be happy.”

from chapter 11 of No Vacancy

No pressure tags for whatever flavor of WIP game strikes your fancy: @penny00dreadful @pearynice @rocknrollsalad @momotonescreaming @sidekick-hero

@shares-a-vest @griefabyss69 @kikidoesfanfic @thefreakandthehair @medusapelagia

[thewolvesof1998]

Saw the prompts post and I'm very curious about the 'pulling them on their lap' one. I feel like Buddie barely does that in fics unless it's sexual meanwhile I love it when ships casually sit on each other's laps :)

Doesn't matter if they're established or pre-relationship

Only if it sparks joy of course! No pressure ❤️

HI! Thanks for your ask!!! <3

So yeah this made me actually feral because you are so right we need more casual lap sitting!!!

I wrote over 1000 words thinking it would work for my No-Nut-November fic but it just doesn't work -which I would have realised if I just read my notes- anyways so it's now a one-shot!

let me cradle your body (be a safe place to rest)

“Seat theif,” Buck pouts, “Where am I supposed to sit?” He asks and look, if he purposely makes his eyes all big and puts a little whine in his voice in a deadly combination that usually has Eddie folding to his whims that it’s between him and the universe okay? “Here,” Eddie says, patting his thigh and it shortcircuits Buck’s brain for longer than it probably should’ve. Eddie doesn’t actually mean that, he’s just messing with Buck right? Because as much as they’ve been accused of practically sitting on each other, they’ve never actually sat in each other’s laps. Buck opens and closes his mouth a few times before deciding that if Eddie is pulling his chain then he’s going to regret it and if it’s being earnest then it probably is comfier than the floor and better than being squeezed into a too-tight spot. “Okay,” Buck says, Eddie offers him a smile and his hand, as if daring him to do it. Buck takes the offered hand and Eddie pulls Buck onto his lap.

Read on ao3

I'm using this as my Seven Sentence Sunday!

So thanks for the tags: @disasterbuckdiaz mwah!

Tagging: @wikiangela @wildlife4life ​ @eddiebabygirldiaz  @spotsandsocks @try-set-me-on-fire @jesuisici33​ @bekkachaos @buddierights @spagheddiediaz @911-on-abc @hippolotamus @shitouttabuck @911onabc @exhuastedpigeon @malewifediaz @your-catfish-friend @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @watchyourbuck @king-buckley @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @mangacat201 @theotherbuckley @hoodie-buck @eowon @rainbow-nerdss @nmcggg @pirrusstuff @evanbegins @giddyupbuck @sammysouffle @smilingbuckley @jamespearce9-1-1 @carrierofthepaperclips @jeeyuns @callmenewbie @thosetwofirefighters

make 'em swoon prompts

[diazsdimples]

Seven Sentence Sunday but it's more like eighteen sentences

Tagged by @thewolvesof1998 and @disasterbuckdiaz thanks guys, I look forward to reading your works ASAP!

Here we have yet another Musician AU snippet. At this point I think I'm like halfway through maybe? It's at 14k words and I still have 2 sex scenes, a handjob and an entire concert to write 🫥

“I could have sworn I saw him kiss you after he saved you” Hen muses. “Wonder why you’d keep something like that from us?” Eddie huffs dramatically. “Maybe I don’t want my sex life to be discussed in public, thank you.” Both Hen and Chimney’s eyebrows shoot up into their hairlines and Chim splutters, scandalised, while Hen hisses “Sex? I didn’t say anything about sex, have you fucked the man?” “Jesus Christ” Eddie mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, I haven’t had sex with him, per se, just – uh – gave him a blowjob in the storeroom yesterday.” “You did what?” Chimney crows, delighted and Eddie whacks him hard on the arm. “Shut up” he hisses, “Everyone will hear you!” “Seriously, a blowjob?” Hen tuts. “Edmundo, I thought you were better than this” Eddie wishes a hole would swallow him up. He doesn’t specify who’s hole. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It just kind of – happened” he finishes lamely. Hen arches an eyebrow at him. “What, you tripped and swallowed his dick by accident? Eddie, c’mon…” Eddie’s face flushes and he opens his mouth to stammer a response when Bobby announces it’s time to commence for the day, and him and Chimney slink back to their seats with the agreement that they’ll continue the discussion at break.

(no pressure) tagging @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @eddiebabygirldiaz @fionaswhvre @wikiangela @daffi-990 @wildlife4life @malewifediaz @housewifebuck @knightlywonders @eddie---diaz @monsterrae1 @evanbegins @callmenewbie @cal-daisies-and-briars @incorrect9-1-1 @smilingbuckley @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz @fruitandbubbles @fortheloveofbuddie and anyone else who is interested!

[all-pacas]

k i'm stressed and have my job interview in a few minutes and so i need some ass pats! have some of the babytrapping story and tell me i'm cool even if you don't believe it!!

House has been making fun of him for taking out his phone so often, and Chase is sure House knows — not only that Chase keeps thinking of calling Cameron, but why and for what purpose. Somehow, no one seems to have realized she was there the night of the lockdown. That he’d signed the divorce papers, that they’d had sex in an exam room, although he’s sure that if House knew about that there’d be no mystery left. Can practically hear it: So, how did your pathetic last-ditch attempt to win her back work out for you?

Very well, if you looked at it one way.

Terribly, if you looked at it another.

Since Dibala, he’s been going to church again. It’s a reoccurring disorder. Goes once every couple years and it turns into addiction, confessing all his petty sins for the relief of forgiveness. Placebo effect, pure and simple. Eventually the rush wears off. He starts self-editing. Confessing to little things he doesn’t regret, leaving out Father, I don’t think my wife would leave me if she was pregnant.

The odds are decent, he thinks, that the Church would agree.

He calls Cameron, finally. A Sunday afternoon. She’s seven weeks along. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Fine,” she says, her tone brisk. “No physical symptoms yet. I’ve made an appointment on June 20th for the ultrasound.” There is a pause: he waits for her to invite him, then realizes she isn’t going to.

“I’d like to be there,” he says.

It’s hard to tell over the phone, but he hopes she’s relieved. “Good. That’s why I gave you the date.”

Everything they say is terse. Short words, short sentences. He is afraid of offending her. Of hurting her more than he has. Every time she texts him, he flinches. At any moment, she will tell him how much she hates him. She must blame him for this, and the fact that she has yet to say anything leaves him more wary.

He considers telling her his little joke about the catholic church. “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” he says finally. I’m sorry is on the tip of his tongue, caught in his throat. But he isn’t. Because she is still on the phone.

“That’s not true,” Cameron says slowly. Carefully.

“I love you,” he says.

And then no one says anything: his phone is hot against his ear. He listens intently to the static, the occasional burst of white noise. A breath. A fumble. She does not answer; she does not hang up the phone.

[aspecbuddie]

Seven Sentence Sunday

It's been a while since I've done one of these but I need motivation to finish this fic before thanksgiving (which I am told is on Thursday?) so here

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie swings around in his chair to look at his son. While they've been watching the movie, Christopher has had a fidget toy in his hands, one of the ones that came in the boxful Buck gave him for his last birthday. No matter how Eddie angles his head, he can’t see Chris’ expression, and wonders if that’s on purpose. “Yeah, Buck’s fine, mijo,” Eddie says, remote in his hand, thumb hovering over the pause button. “Why wouldn’t he be?” “He hasn’t been here,” Chris says, his voice smaller and unsure in a way that hurts Eddie’s heart. “Is he in the hospital?” Eddie's heart shatters, right there in his lounge.

no pressure tagging 💚: @aroeddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @lover-of-mine @bidisasterevankinard @theotherbuckley

@pirrusstuff @rainbow-nerdss @sunflower-eddiediaz @butraura @your-catfish-friend

@eowon @actuallyitsellie @elgascreamslikehell @serensational

[let me know if you wanna be added or removed!!💚]

[hogans-heroes]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday

Rule: Post seven(ish) sentences of your current WIP - or just a snippet who cares! And tag your writer friends to see what they're working on.

(Snippet near the beginning of my Alex pov fic Learning Curve because I really need to work more on it I’ve been slacking/tired)

Tagged by @avonne-writes 🥰

…

“What’s wrong?” Alex whispered, but even that felt too loud in the dark, cramped barracks, with the steady breaths of sleeping men around them.

He leaned his shoulder into Buck’s, and his heart sank at the trembling of the other’s lean frame. Buck remained silent, wiping a hand over his face and looking in what Alex thought was a random direction until he realized it was Major Egan’s bunk. The broad-shouldered form was just visible in the darkness and Buck’s gaze kept flickering to it every few seconds like a moth to a flame.

This close, Alex could hear Buck’s breathing, uneven and barely controlled, and he took the chance of overstepping to turn to face him, sliding an arm around his back and coaxing Buck to his chest.

Buck tensed at first, but Alex purposely stayed relaxed and unthreatening, rubbing his thumb on Buck’s arm until he began to soften. Soon Buck had melted completely, pained breathing slowing and head slumping until it rested on Alex’s shoulder, the fabric of his shirt growing damp.

I tag @swifty-fox !

[endwersed]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday(ish)

Tagged by the always amazing @dear-massacre 💘

So I'm a little out on the seven sentences, and I'm a little out on the Sunday, but - hey. We're all here to have fun! Here's a little more from my upcoming Sterek FWB AU - you don't see me. Very close to completion, and hopefully coming to an AO3 near you in the next couple of weeks 😊

-

Stiles leans back onto his haunches, running slightly shaky fingers through his already wild hair. His cheeks are flushed pink, so contrastingly obvious against his usually pale skin, and his brown eyes are wide, they are worried. He chews down on his bottom lip for a moment as he blinks up at Derek.

A thought flashes, unbidden, into Derek’s mind. A thought that – wow, guys must go absolutely fucking feral for Stiles, when he sucks them off.

Staring down at him, at the delicate angles of his face, at the jutting bone of his collar slipping out from his loose shirt, at the slender length of his fingers still resting against Derek’s thighs, Derek thinks that he looks... he looks like he’s fucking made for this, somehow. Like he was created for this earth, for the sole purpose of being on his knees, with those big doe eyes and that soft cheeky smile.

Guys – guys who aren’t straight, guys not like Derek, obviously – they must just fucking eat him up.

-

Low pressure tags! @aurevell @eevylynn @hedwig221b @lucky-bishop @violetfairydust

[rriavian]

Seven Sentence(ish) Sunday - Lyta Hall finds an Endless in her kitchen, WIP snippet:

The King of Dreams is standing in Lyta's kitchen.

He looks just as he did before. The same black coat, the same slim form beneath, the same pale blue eyes. A colour so curiously normal, as human looking as the rest of him, but Lyta doesn’t think that's because her species has a monopoly on the form. The more she looks the more she sees. Lyta shivers at the hints of what lurks beneath skin so pale. It's like the light of stars, the hue of what glows in the darkness of a night sky. A turned down version of a sun, what is nonetheless still burning, far away perhaps, in front of her but muted so her eyes don’t pop in her skull.

It’s a consideration she doesn’t understand.

“Lyta Hall.” He says; soft, melodic, rhythmic like a poems purposeful verse. Calibrated deliberation but warm, free, like the lullaby her mother had sung to her, like the ones she sings to Daniel. The beloved baby this being has promised to take. Would he sing to him? Would this being sing lullabies to Lyta’s son when he took him from her arms? “I believe we should talk.”

“Get out.” Lyta manages. “I don’t—get out of my house.”

The creature tilts his head.

It’s perfect. It freezes the blood in her veins. The motion smooth, the neck an elegant thing; he’s beautiful in a way she can’t deny, morality not so easy to see, goodness and ugliness not so easy to define as separate.

“I am not here to take your son.”

“But you still plan to.”

“Plan?” A curious undercurrent that Lyta can’t decipher. “I suppose it would seem as such.”

“It is what you said.”

The lips quirk upwards; amusement now in the tilt, lurking within starlight, those blue eyes now seem to glow to reveal it beckoning in the glimmer. A slim hand rests on the back of a chair, drawing it away from the table without a sound.

Dream of the Endless sits down and says—

“Is it?”

[welcometololaland]

seven sentence sunday

i wasn't planning to post anything this week, mostly because i feel like that little dandelion strung out in the breeze and at an impasse about what to write. stuck on everything right now! trawling my google docs like What Next?! and complaining to anyone who will listen. if someone knows the answer, hmu.

also, thank you to everyone who has given me feedback on alta, that also keeps me going like a man in a desert searching for water and i owe you all my non-existent firstborn.

this is from call me (by my name) - my most recent project with @rmd-writes, which seems like the only thing i CAN write at the moment:

In another universe – one in which Carlos was a braver man and TK was a little less prickly – Carlos might have asked him to dance. He wants to ask him to dance, wants to watch TK move in time to the music, or out of time, perhaps. He wants to hear TK's laugh and watch the way a flush rises on his cheeks. He wants to touch TK accidentally and then maybe with more purpose, drag him into a bathroom stall and kiss him breathless. He doesn’t even know if TK is into guys. He just has a feeling, and an inescapable attraction. In reality, he wants TK to be into guys. More specifically, into Carlos.

leaving an open tag because it's late and i have no brain cells <3 but if you take up this tag, please tag me back so i can read

thank you for encouraging me: @carlos-tk @rmd-writes @carlos-in-glasses @strandnreyes @kiwiana-writes @tellmegoodbye @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @sherryvalli @inflarescent @orchidscript @heartstringsduet and @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut and @louisii-reyes-strand for the inspo saturday tag.

[dilfmobius]

seven sentence sunday

thank you for the tag @lokimobius and @kcscribbler 🥹💕

this is from something that was supposed to be a 5+1 kisses fic but it kinda turned into a fic of it's own??

Loki is cut off by Mobius spinning around and closing the space in between them, hands coming up to grab Loki’s face. His breath hitches and he prepares himself to feel Mobius’ mouth on his own, to be completely devoured – he can’t wait. “You are so wonderful, Loki,” Mobius whispers against Loki’s mouth, and before the god can respond, Mobius finishes his journey and claims his prize. It’s an absolute one-eighty from their first kiss after Pompeii – an impulsive press of dry lips. Mobius moves with purpose, pressing so incredibly close to Loki, wedging one of his thighs in between Loki’s legs, as his warm hands cup the god’s cheeks.  Loki’s eyes flutter closed as he feels Mobius’ soft lips on his own. He doesn’t let Mobius get the jump on him, instead he grabs hold of the agent’s waist and tugs.

[sophie1973]

Seven Sentence Sunday

I was tagged this week by @onthewaytosomewhere and @whoevenknows-things (tagging you back, lovelies)

So this is probably the last snippet I will share for Bloodstream, since we are reaching the end of the line * and if all goes well, the last chapter (and the epilogue) will be posted by next weekend.

*yes, this is a Stucky reference.

Snippet and tags under the cut :)

He pauses, looking earnestly into Henry's eyes. “And since you and I started…this,” he says, gesturing between them, “I came to realize something important. I want what they have—a love that endures any challenge, a happiness that stands the test of time. Henry, I've existed for one hundred and sixteen years, feeling like something was missing. Until I met you. But I can’t do casual with you. I want the kind of love June and Nora have. And I want it with you. I will not settle for anything less.” It takes Henry a few seconds to process the words before an overwhelming wave of relief washes through him, and he bites back a sob. “Oh my fucking Christ,” he mutters, putting his face in his hand, and he misses as worry replaces hope on Alex’s face.  “I know we avoided labeling this thing between us, and ok, I might have been coming on a bit too strong with my big declaration, but-”  “No, Alex, that’s not…I thought you were ending things with me.” “What? No! I just told you the exact opposite. I love you, you British nitwit.” Henry lets out a half laugh, half-sob, and since he doesn’t seem to be able to form a sentence, Alex continues. “Listen, if you don’t feel the same way, it’s perfectly understandable, and I’m not going to deny I will be extremely devastated but-” “Alex, shut the bloody hell up. Please.” Alex’s eyes widen, and Henry takes a deep breath, focusing on his handsome face. “The last few years have been…complicated, to say the least, and I often wondered what was the purpose of it all, and then…Alex, being with you feels like the only thing that makes sense in this insane world.”

Oh look, those two idiots are finally figuring things out.

Tagging with no pressure : @stellarmeadow @iboatedhere

@fullerthanskippy @firenati0n @bitbybitwrites @tailsbeth-writes

@piratefalls @theprinceandagcd @blueeyedgrlwrites

@thesleepyskipper @tintagel-or-cockleshells @taste-thewaste