#may draw gay shit tonight who knows

[bengallemon]

happy valentines day to the fellow cupioromantics out there :3

[asbealthgn]

“Tonight is the night,” Nancy says.

She says it with so much gravity that it makes Eddie look up from his spot on the couch, drawing his attention away from the email he’s reading (lyrics from Jeff that he wants input on). He whistles.

“Damn, Nance, you look good,” he says. She has her hair and makeup done and she’s wearing her favorite dress, the one that looks black until the right light hits it and reveals it’s actually purple. Eddie may be as gay as they come, but he can recognize that she looks sexy as hell. “The night for what?”

She takes a deep breath. “I’m going to ask Robin to be my girlfriend.”

“Hell yeah!” Eddie says, putting his hand out for a high-five. She returns it before sitting on the couch next to him. “You have a date tonight?”

“No, remember? It’s the party.”

Right. Nancy spent twenty minutes the other day trying to convince Eddie to come with her to the party that Robin and her housemates are throwing. He refused. He’s met Robin a few times and really likes her—and he knows Nancy is completely head over heels for her—but he’s not big on house parties where he doesn’t know anyone. Especially because it’s a guarantee that Nancy will abandon him immediately to be with Robin.

“Do you think that’s a terrible place to do it?” Nancy asks, “And do you think it’s too soon?”

Eddie shrugs. He’s shit at relationships, so he doesn’t know the rules. “I think you’re fine,” he says, “You guys are clearly crazy about each other. I think you could take her to, like, a sewage plant and ask her to be your girlfriend and she’d still be over the moon.”

She gives him a tiny smile. “Will you please come?” she asks. “I’m just so nervous about it and it would really help to have my best friend there.”

Unfair. She’s giving him her biggest doe eyes. It shouldn’t work on him because he knows she only makes that face when she’s trying to manipulate him. But even though he knows what she’s doing, she’s just so adorable. He can’t say no to her.

He sighs. “God, fine,” he says. He looks down at his worn out t-shirt and hole-riddled sweatpants. “I probably have to change, huh?”

Forty-five minutes later, Eddie is circling the block looking for a spot to park. Normally Nancy drives when they go somewhere together because she hates his driving, but he insisted tonight because he has a feeling that she’s going to end up staying the night and he doesn’t want to be trapped. As they drive, Nancy has been giving Eddie the rundown on Robin’s housemates. There’s Max and Lucas, the couple who are Nancy’s brother Mike’s age. She’s convinced that they would get along really well with Mike and his boyfriend Will, so she keeps trying to figure out an organic way for them to meet. She tells Eddie that she invited them to the party but never heard if they’ll actually be there. Then there’s Steve, Robin’s best friend who works with her at the same library where Robin and Nancy originally met (because Nancy was doing research for a story and had to access the archives for some records that were never digitized). Nancy keeps telling Eddie that she thinks he’s either going to fall madly in love with Steve or hate his guts. So Eddie guesses he’s about to find out which one it’ll be.

He finally finds a spot on the street around the corner. He squeezes his van into the tiny space and puts it in park before glancing over at Nancy. She looks nervous, taking slow, even breaths to steady herself while her hands shake.

“Hey,” he says, putting his hand out. She puts her hand in his and he squeezes it tight. “You’ve got this. Robin’ll be a goddamn idiot if she says no.”

She gives him a small smile. “Thank you,” she says, then tosses her shoulders back. “Let’s do this.”

They get out of the van, where Nancy makes him stop so she can fix the collar of his battle vest that’s standing up. It’s a pretty warm night, so he’s had to forgo his favorite leather jacket plus vest combo. Instead, it’s just the vest over top of a Nekrogoblikon t-shirt paired with his favorite black jeans. He feels really underdressed next to Nancy, but she told him it was fine when he showed her the outfit for approval.

Inside, the house is pretty packed. Right away, Eddie sees that Mike and Will made it after all, along with Will’s sister El. They’re all sitting side by side on a couch talking to three people who are sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of them. 

“That’s Max and Lucas,” Nancy tells Eddie, pointing out two of the kids on the ground. “Not sure who the other one is.”

As they get closer, Mike glances up and waves. But the group seems pretty engrossed in their conversation, so Eddie and Nancy move deeper into the house. 

Eddie feels Nancy clench his wrist. “That’s Steve,” she hisses, nodding significantly in the direction of the kitchen. His eyes find the guy she’s pointing out, ladling punch into a red Solo cup and—

Fuck.

He’s the most beautiful guy Eddie’s ever seen. Nancy way undersold him. He gets that there’s a certain amount of leeway he needs to grant to her as a lesbian since she can’t really tell, but come on. Eddie could be full on blind and still recognize that Steve is unreal. His swooping brown hair catches the last of the setting sun coming in through the window and turns it all shades of honey. His eyes are the same, amber in the dying light. And it’s like his face has been sculpted from stone—not marble—something better than that. Some stone they haven’t invented yet because nothing else currently on this earth could capture him.

Belatedly, he becomes aware of Nancy laughing at him. Somehow, she can always follow his thoughts. Always knows when he’s composing terrible sonnets in his mind. But just as she’s opening her mouth (definitely to make fun of him), Robin appears in front of them. Eddie watches her cheeks flame as she looks Nancy up and down. 

“Hi, Nancy!” she says, “Glad you made it!”

“Of course I did!” Nancy says, eyes practically turning into hearts and popping out of her head. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Robin reaches her hands out to grasp Nancy’s. “You look gorgeous,” she says, “I love that dress.”

Eddie can tell this is going to veer into territory where he can’t follow very quickly, so he cuts in. “Hey, Robin, nice to see you.”

Robin blinks at him. “Oh, hey!” she says, “I didn’t see you.”

That was apparent. Not that Eddie’s upset about it. He loves seeing the two girls like this, loves that Nancy has found someone who matches her intensity. 

They get through the bare minimum small talk (work is good, yes they all watched that new episode of that show, yes it was crazy), but Eddie can see that Nancy and Robin want to be alone. So he lets Robin drag Nancy away, presumably to her bedroom. And now he just needs to figure out what he’s going to do now that the only two people he knows here are preoccupied. 

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. He knows Mike, Will, and El. He looks over, but they’re no longer sitting in the living room. He scans the crowd for them and sees Mike and Will have moved to the kitchen (apparently Steve has moved on—that’s unfortunate) where they’re talking to Lucas and the other guy Eddie doesn’t know. Eddie makes his way over to them, stopping by the punch bowl on his way.

“Eddie!” Mike says as soon as he sees him. “Lucas and Dustin here play D&D. Can we invite them to Hellfire?”

Eddie crosses his arms and surveys the two guys, sizing them up. Dustin looks like the type, with a Star Wars shirt and a goofy grin. Lucas looks way too athletic to be into D&D though. Not nearly enough of a loser.

“I don’t know,” he says, “Are you guys any good?”

That causes both boys to launch into tales of their various past exploits on campaigns, apparently not giving a shit that they’re yelling over each other so Eddie can’t tell anything they’re saying. He feels the passion, though. 

“Alright,” he concedes, “You can sit in for a session. If you’re good, we’ll let you stick around.”

Whooping, Mike and Will high-five each other, then Lucas and Dustin. 

“Where’s your sister?” Eddie asks Will. 

Will nods over to an adjacent wall. “Over there talking to Max and Steve,” he says. Eddie follows his gaze and sees the trio. More specifically, his eyes are drawn to Steve. He’s so goddamn beautiful, even in the artificial light now that the sun has disappeared below the horizon. 

Well, isn’t this a perfect opportunity? “I’m gonna go say hi,” Eddie says casually, nodding in farewell to Will, Mike, Lucas, and Dustin. Then, red Solo cup in hand, he starts heading in the direction of El, Steve, and Max. 

In a way, it’s just too damn predictable. 

Eddie is walking toward the group, feeling pretty good, doing his best to look cool and nonchalant. He’s about five feet away and Steve glances up, eyes flicking over him. And Eddie’s so caught up in the euphoria of being seen (and maybe admired?) by Steve that he completely misses someone’s purse on the ground. He trips over it, doesn’t manage to right himself, and goes sprawling. To add insult to injury, he doesn’t manage to keep hold of his cup of punch and manages to spill it all over himself and Steve.

Great.

“Fuck, man, I’m so sorry,” Eddie says, hopping to his feet and putting his hands out like he can—what? Wipe away the bright red punch from Steve’s white shirt? God, he’s so stupid. 

Steve is looking down at himself in surprise, then back up at Eddie. “It’s cool,” he says. Fuck, his voice is so sexy. Eddie can’t believe that the first thing he did when trying to approach this guy was spill punch all over him. When did he become such a mess?

Max laughs. “I told you not to wear white, dingus,” she says. Steve scowls at her. 

“Only Robin gets to call me dingus,” he says. “And you told me not to wear white because you think I look ugly in it, not because you thought I would spill on it.”

Max shrugs. “Different reasoning, same end result,” she says breezily. 

Alright, Eddie is definitely gonna need to befriend this girl as soon as he stops wanting to die of mortification. If that happens. 

“Seriously, man, I’m so sorry,” Eddie says, “I can, like, buy you a new shirt, or—”

Steve waves him off. “Seriously, it’s cool,” he says, “Honestly, I got this shirt in a pack of five from Target so it’s not a big loss.” He looks over Eddie again. His all black ensemble probably doesn’t reveal the punch as much, but Eddie can feel the wet patches sticking to his skin. “C’mon, I’ll lend you something to change into.”

Not about to complain about the prospect of seeing the inside of Steve’s room, Eddie follows him down the hall and through a door. It’s a nice bedroom, tidy without feeling sterile. There are posters for bands on the wall that Eddie doesn’t listen to but doesn’t disrespect either. An acoustic guitar is leaning against a desk that’s stacked with neat piles of books. There are twinkle lights along the bedframe, giving the room a cheerful glow. And it’s a comfy looking bed, with a thick white comforter and fluffy pillows. 

Stop staring at his bed, you absolute creep.

“I’m Eddie by the way,” Eddie says, looking back over at Steve. Who is very shirtless. Apparently having peeled his wet shirt off, he’s now standing facing the closet. Goddamn. The smooth expanse of his back is on display, toned and freckled. Eddie wants to bite it. 

Steve looks over his shoulder at Eddie. “Yeah, I know,” he says. 

“You do?”

“Yeah.” Steve grins, turning more fully around. Don’t stare at his chest don’t stare at his chest don’t stare at his— “After Robin met Nancy she made a whole ass PowerPoint of her Instagram photos. You’re in some of ‘em.”

Eddie feels a little flustered that Steve knew who he was before Eddie knew him. What did he think? Did Steve think he was good looking? Or was he even paying attention? Then Eddie wrinkles his nose, the rest of the context registering. 

“A whole PowerPoint, huh?” Eddie asks. 

Steve shrugs (his shoulders are so pretty, fuck). “Yeah, it’s kinda what we do,” he says, “Anything significant happens, we share it with each other in excruciating detail. And Robbie knows I’m a visual learner so slideshows work pretty well.”

“Fair enough.”

Steve turns back to the closet and rifles through the hangers. “Good news is I think we’re about the same size,” he says. He produces a plain black t-shirt. “Does this work?”

“I’ll take whatever you give me,” Eddie says (God, he hopes that comes off less horny than it sounds to his ears). “I’m the one who spilled punch all over us.”

Eyes fixed on Eddie’s chest, Steve comes back over. Eddie resists the urge to cross his arms over himself. But obviously, Steve’s just looking at the stains, not him. “Your vest was mostly saved,” Steve says. He touches a spot below one of the buttons on Eddie’s chest, making Eddie’s heart leap into his throat. “There’s a bit, but I think Max has some stuff for stains we can borrow.”

“Cool,” Eddie says. His voice definitely sounds unnatural, and he thinks Steve notices, eyes flicking up to his. Those pretty, pretty eyes. Up close, his eyelashes are so long. And his face is dotted with moles. Eddie wants to touch every one of them. “I’m not really that worried about it,” he chokes out. 

Shrugging, Steve hands him the black shirt. And then he just stands there, watching. “Um,” Eddie says. Does Steve really expect him to just strip down right in front of him? He can’t present his incredibly mediocre shirtless self to the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. 

Steve lifts his eyebrows. “What’re you waiting for?” 

“Uh, nothing,” Eddie says. 

This isn’t weird. Right? It’s only weird if he keeps acting all weird about it. But he can be all cool and casual about this like Steve was. So he shrugs out of his battle vest, draping it over the desk chair along with the borrowed shirt, and then tugs his own shirt over his head. Steve’s standing a little closer than Eddie realized, so his arms bump against him as he untangles them from the shirt. Totally fine, totally normal. Totally not gonna obsess about the feeling of Steve’s skin against his for the next 3-5 business days. 

As soon as Eddie has laid his shirt over his battle vest, he feels featherlight fingers brushing over the demon tattoo on his chest. He sucks in a breath, frozen to the spot. What is happening right now?

He risks a glance at Steve, whose eyes are trained on Eddie’s tattoos. “I was curious what these looked like up close,” Steve says, “I should admit I actually have seen you shirtless before. I kind of stalked your Instagram.”

What? That’s not computing. First of all, Steve, most gorgeous man to ever exist, stalked Eddie’s Instagram? Second of all, Eddie has shirtless pics on his Instagram? He doesn’t have the confidence to post that kind of thing. Except no, there is a picture on there from when he went to the beach with Gareth and Jeff a month or two ago. But what? Steve has seen it? And it was significant enough for him to remember?

Steve looks at Eddie, eyebrows furrowing. “Is that creepy?”

“No, but—” Eddie shakes his head. “Me?”

“Yeah.” Steve grins. “I think you’re pretty.”

Maybe Eddie hit his head when he fell. Maybe he’s hallucinating this. Maybe he’s gonna wake up on the floor out there, and Steve calling him pretty will all have been a delicious, far-fetched dream. Because there’s just no way. 

“You think I’m pretty,” Eddie says. When Steve nods, Eddie almost laughs. “And have you happened to look in a mirror recently?”

Steve laughs. “Yeah,” he says, “But somehow, I’m not my own type.”

He keeps leaning in closer and it’s making it very hard for Eddie to come up with something intelligent to say. He should make a joke or something to prove that he’s very cool and collected, but his brain turns more and more to static the longer he stares into Steve’s eyes. 

“Um,” Eddie says. Clever. What’s wrong with him? He doesn’t usually get this flustered. But then, he doesn’t usually talk to guys who look like Steve. 

Steve’s smile is very self-satisfied as those gossamer fingers of his trail down past Eddie’s tattoos and brush over his nipple. Eddie takes in a sharp breath. “You often invite strangers who you’ve been stalking into your room to get ‘em shirtless and feel ‘em up?” he asks, aiming for aloof and entirely missing the mark. 

“Hmm, just the ones that spill punch on me,” Steve says, pinching Eddie’s nipple slightly. “And just the ones that I catch staring at me.” He leans in, putting his mouth inches away from Eddie’s ear. “I don’t think you’re as subtle as you think you are.”

Unable to resist any longer, Eddie slides his hands around Steve’s waist. His skin is so smooth, so velvety. “Who says I’m trying to be subtle?” he asks. 

Grinning, Steve wraps his free arm around Eddie’s neck and pulls him in. Eddie kisses Steve eagerly. His lips are heavenly, so much softer than most guys Eddie has kissed. He tastes like strawberry lipgloss and punch. And he kisses like they have all the time in the world, which maybe they do. Nancy’s off with Robin somewhere, so there’s no reason Eddie needs to rejoin the party any time soon.

They wind up on Steve’s bed, Steve on his back under Eddie. Eddie gets the fingers of one hand tangled in Steve’s hair. So silky, just like everything else about him. The man defines the word soft. It makes Eddie a little crazy, makes him want to dig his teeth and fingers in, ruin the undisturbed perfection. He goes after Steve hungrily, attacking his jaw and throat and collarbones like he’s starving. Steve seems happy to let him, pulling Eddie’s hips down flush with his and rolling his own hips gently up.

Eddie’s just thinking that he’d be happy to never stop kissing Steve exactly like this when there’s a knock at the door. He pulls away and looks at it while Steve sighs. 

“I have to answer that,” he says, sounding resigned. 

“You sure you have to?” Eddie asks, brushing the hair back off Steve’s forehead. He looks sort of wrecked, red marks already starting to form on his neck.

Steve nods. “If it’s Robin or Max they’ll just let themselves in after thirty seconds.” 

He edges out from under Eddie and crosses over to the door. Eddie feels vindicated that he has to adjust himself in his jeans before opening the door a crack. 

“Hey, Robbie,” he says, “What’s up?”

“Steve! I have huge news!” Robin says from just out of sight. “Nancy asked me to be her—wait, why don’t you have a shirt on?”

Steve is forced back as Robin pushes the door open farther and pokes her head in. She looks over at the bed, sees Eddie, and grins. “Oh, that’s why,” she says, mischief in her voice.

“Hey, what’s up?” Eddie says, trying to sound casual. 

“Eddie?” He hears Nancy’s voice from the hall, and then her head is appearing in the doorway next to Robin’s. As soon as she sees him, she gives a triumphant laugh. “I knew it!”

Eddie buries his face in his hands, sure it’s burning. 

“Alright that’s enough,” he hears Steve say. Then there’s the overlapping protests from the girls before the door clicks shut again. 

Removing his hands, Eddie risks another glance and sees Steve coming back over to the bed, shaking his head. He slides onto the mattress next to Eddie and puts his arms around him. “Can you believe them?” he asks, not quite managing to hide his smile. 

Smiling back, Eddie pinches Steve in the side. “You sure you should have closed the door on them?” he asks, “Sounds like they had big news.”

Steve shrugs. “It’s fine,” he says, “They can tell us in the morning.”

“Morning, huh? Think we’re gonna be occupied until then?”

Smile turning devious, Steve kisses Eddie once before rolling him onto his back. “I think I can come up with a couple things to keep us busy,” he says. 

And as Steve kisses him again, Eddie’s pretty sure he agrees.

[da-rulah]

Could you please do fan fic where Copia is gay or/and with a ftm(female to male) trans guy?

This has been on my mind since you requested it, and I apologise it's taken so long. Can you believe I missed out on writing this during PRIDE MONTH!? What a twat. I apologise. Usual stuff; work/life balance, writing for my big fics etc. etc but you had me at 'gay copia'. I hope you enjoy...

18+, MDNI! CW/ MxM, soft smut, comfort, gay sex, anal fingering, anal penetration, hand job, cumming inside, this is soppy as shit and I love it fight me.

OH MY GOD there's art to go with this now... Thank you so much to my incredibly talented bestie, @delulluart for this stunning pencil drawing. (Warning, it's NSFW... of course.)

Tagging my usual tag list, but if this kind of thing isn't for you, then that's absolutely fine. 💕

Do you know how tiring it is to always be in command? To always be the figure of authority? Copia does. There's no escape from it... He has no choice but to be the figurehead of the ministry, the one everybody turns to for help, for advice, for relief...

How was he ever supposed to feel relief? Who would take care of his stresses? Who would allow him the space to just let go?

Today, he practically crawls back into his chambers, just grateful to be in a place he can call his own again. No disturbances or expectations; just peace to unwind. Except, he wasn't alone. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

As soon as he shuts the door behind him, there he is; his lover, Brother Adan, stepping from the bedroom to greet him in his living space.

"Hello handsome," he smirks, his eyes soft with adoration. "I saw your schedule today, figured you may want to see me?"

He was correct; Copia very much wanted to see him.

"You always know what I want before I do, eh?" Copia chuckles, slumping back against the door. "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long..."

"You know I wouldn't mind if you did," he shrugs, walking over to Copia and wrapping his arms around his soft waist. "What do you need tonight, Papa? Cuddles and computer games, or do you need to uh... release your frustrations?"

Copia thought for a moment. He wasn't sure he had the energy, and frankly, he'd been commanding his clergy around all damn day. The last thing he wanted to do was come home and be the picture of dominance again. He wanted to be taken care of, to be reminded what it was like to let someone else take control. But in the arrangement Copia had with his Adan, they had never reversed the roles like that.

He was sure that he was capable, no doubt about that, but it just so happened that the natural roles of their situationship had made Copia the giver, and Adan the receiver. He hesitated, wondering if it might sound silly to request he give up his Papa authority for the night.

"Papa, what is it?" Adan asked, concerned. He could clearly see the inner battle going on behind his bewitching eyes.

"I... was wondering if..." Copia stutters, stumbling over his words like a fool. "If you would... maybe, eh... take control, tonight?" Adan tilts his head in question, the request sinking in.

"You mean... take care of you?" he smiles, running his fingertips through Copia's greying and overgrown hair. Copia nods meekly, unable to look him in the eye. "Oh, Copia... Don't feel any shame for that. Of course I can. You must be so tired of being in command all the time, hm?"

Copia meets his eyes, full of understanding and compassion. "Sí..."

"I'm sorry I never offered this before. You must have thought I was only happy to bottom, hm?" Adan chuckled. "I just thought that's what you wanted, but I can do both, my love." Adan moves the hand still around Copia's waist to his gloved hand, lacing his fingers with his own. "Come on, come and lay down with me."

Adan slowly leads Copia into the bedroom, gently as if guiding an exhausted gazelle to a watering hole. Copia could already feel himself sinking into a role of submission, tension beginning to drain from his shoulders from the relief of being allowed the space to fall.

Without a word, Adan sat him at the end of the bed, crouching down at his feet to remove his shoes and socks one at a time. Copia sat and watched, dumbfounded, as Adan meticulously and slowly undressed him layer by layer, until he was sat completely nude and vulnerable. Then as Adan stood upright and stepped back, he held eye contact with Copia, sweet and playful, as he too undressed himself.

"Lay back, Copia," he instructed, crawling onto the bed beside him and following until they both lay on the pillows, Copia on his back and staring innocently into Adan's eyes who lay on his side, propped up by his elbow.

Adan began to trace his fingertips over Copia's bare chest, running through the salt and pepper chest hair over his pecks and down across his stomach, only to tease as he got lower by retreating back up. Copia gulped, his bare hands balling into fists at his sides to refrain from moving. Adan didn't miss the way his cock, laying heavy and soft against his hip, had begun to fill out just from the lightest of touches.

Adan's hand travelled down the length of Copia's torso one more time, before retreating and coming to cradle his cheek and pull him towards him for a deep, slow kiss. Copia moaned immediately, gripping the sheets below him. His mind went blank, any and all stress from the day clearing out only to be replaced by fog.

As they lost themselves in their slow kiss, tongues marrying together deliciously, Adan reached his hand down one more time, finally reaching for Copia's length and palming him against his thigh. It hadn't taken long, but both men were completely erect, enjoying the sensual nature of their embrace.

As soon as Adan's hand finally wrapped around Copia's shaft, his jaw went slack, a moan rumbling from within. Adan kept kissing him, unbothered that Copia had stopped and only wanting to continue to please his Papa.

"Is this enough, my love? Or do you wish for more tonight?" he asked, wanting to give Copia the experience he needed tonight, utterly selflessly.

"Per favore, amore... will you fill me? I-It's been so long since I've felt that," he gasped, stuttering while Adan's hand worked him in long, languid strokes.

"Of course, sweet thing. Let me prep you first, hm? We can't rush this..."

"Sí, sí," Copia babbled, allowing Adan to roll him over onto his front and spread his knees just enough. Copia kept supplies in his bedside cabinet for convenience since Adan began staying the night a lot more often, and so Adan reached for the bottle of lubrication he knew he'd need.

He still lay beside Copia, wanting him to feel secure, loved and comforted by his body pressing into his, still able to deliver kisses and praises directly to Copia's ear.

He began with one finger, allowing the slick digit to circle Copia's already fluttering rim before he attempted to dip inside. Copia felt incredibly relaxed already, but with the stimulation to his hole he was struggling all the more to keep his hips still against the bed, rutting his erection into the mattress. Adan just smiled at his responsive partner, knowing he was already feeling the pleasure he'd intended.

With an extra drizzle of lubrication, Adan began to press his fingertip into Copia, slowly to accommodate the stretch that he certainly wasn't used to these days. Copia groaned in pleasure, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried half his face in the pillow below him. His paints were going to transfer to the sheets, but that was a problem for later. He needed grounding in that moment.

Adan did his best to work Copia open with just the one finger at first, eventually adding two. All the while, Copia was losing his mind at the sensation. So close to his prostate, and yet, not enough for stimulation; it was winding him up, building a knot of dull tension in his abdomen.

With some time, Adan was able to use three fingers, widening the gap for himself to fit neatly inside when the time came. Copia's groans and whines were muffled by his pillow, and yet each one travelled straight down to Adan's cock, which Copia could feel against his hip while he toyed with his hole.

"A-Adan, please..." Copia begged, professing that he was ready without having to say the words.

"Shhh, it's okay Copia. I've got you," he soothed, retracting his fingers and rolling Copia onto his side so he faced away from him. He reached for the lube again, this time coating his own length generously, before dribbling more where Copia would need him. "We'll take it slow, hm?"

"Yes, yes, just please... I need you, Adan..." Adan chuckled a little at that, sliding his palm between Copia's thighs so he could lift one and allow him the room to line his tip up with Copia's hole.

The initial stretch was uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant thanks to Adan's careful preparation. And still, he was gentle, giving Copia plenty of time to get used to him inch by inch. Already, Adan was becoming drunk on the gasps and moans that spilled from Copia's lips, and he couldn't help but press kisses to his neck, nipping gently at the skin whil his hands squeezed Copia's thigh in an attempt to control his own pleasures. It had been a while for Adan too, to feel the tightness of another man around him. Fuck, how he missed it...

Copia gained some confidence, rocking his hips back into Adan's and reaching his arm back to hold his hips in place to bounce against. Adan groaned against Copia's shoulder, losing himself to the passion of the moment too.

After a little while, he could take it no longer, rolling Copia to have his back pressed to his chest and sitting himself up enough to grip tightly onto the back of Copia's neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss as he pistoned his hips deep into him. Copia lifted his leg for a better angle, wrapping his own arm around Adan's bicep and holding on tightly as he groaned into the kiss, each thrust audibly stuttering his moans.

The pair were completely wrapped up in each other, losing themselves together. Adan's grip on Copia's neck tightened, before dropping down to press into Copia's stomach and digging his fingertips into the softness of his belly. Fucking hell, Adan loved his body, soft and warm in his grip. He could feel the way his stomach turned into rolls each time he thrusted into him, Copia curling up tightly each time.

With every upward thrust, Copia's prostate was throbbing with pleasure, his cock bouncing from the force of Adan's movements and aching from the lack of contact. He could only whine at the feeling of being so close, so fucking close, that he thought his entire body was about to burst.

He wanted to beg, to plead, to tell Adan how much he adored him, how much he needed this but just the thought of parting their heated kiss as he fucked into him was regretful. but it was Adan who parted first, grunting and growling in a way Copia rarely heard from him. He was about to cum deep inside his Papa, unable to stop himself and so his pace picked up, determined to finish Copia off before himself.

He reached his hand down to wrap his deft fingers around Copia's shaft, beginning to pump him to completion while he hammered into his prostate. Copia cried out, his nails digging into Adan's arm as his eyes rolled back into his head and his body lost it's fight to stay composed. Copia's cock jerked in Adan's hand, thick ropes of warm cum erupting onto his own stomach with the last remnants dribbling down Adan's fist. The sight and sound alone was enough to finish Adan off, his rhythm falling off as he shot his own load deep inside Copia.

Adan stilled, enjoying the last few minutes of connection sheathed inside Copia's warmth as the two of them came down from their highs, heavy breaths and gentle whimpers filling the silence. Copia's eyes fluttered open, searching Adan's who seemed to be doing the same - asking a silent question, or confessing a silent thought.

"I think... I think I am I love with you, Adan..." Copia whispered, losing his confidence the moment he uttered a syllable. Neither of them had expected something quite this serious when their arrangement began, but there was no denying the electricity between them.

Adan just grinned, once again holding Copia close to him by the back of his neck, his fingers playing with the sweat dampened locks of hair at the nape.

"And it would seem, Papa, I'm in love with you too," he admitted, not a moment of hesitation now he knew where Copia was too. The two men shared a soft kiss, longing for one another as if they weren't as close as could possibly be right then.

"I suggest a nice, soothing, hot bath to recover, hm? Let the stress just melt away, together?" Adan proposed, stroking the hair from Copia's forehead. He could only nod in response, too tired and drunk on him to form words. "I'll be right back, my love."

With a kiss to the tip of Copia's barely painted nose, Adan gently removed himself from his side and made his way into the bathroom to run a hot bath filled with salts and essential oils to soothe his poor Papa's body and mind.

The two of them spent the evening in the bath together, Copia enveloped in the warmth of the water and his lover behind him. He'd never been so cared for, so loved by another than he was with Adan around. Suddenly, the burden of being Papa didn't feel quite so heavy anymore...

[wonderlandleighleigh]

May I please request a crumb of midge Lenny smut

(Sexytimes.)

This tour should have been cake.

Three shows in San Diego, Three in LA, two in San Francisco over the course of three weeks. Fucking cake, and good money, too, but by the time he gets to San Francisco he's been jonesing for a week. His shows are going great. His itchy, frenetic energy is connecting with his crowds, which is a good thing because if he were desperate for a fix and bombing, this would be much harder.

 But he's doing his best. Thankfully he's not as familiar with the drug scene here as he is in LA, so it'd be harder to score anyways.

All of this is compounded by the fact that every time he calls home, Midge isn't there. Which is fair. With the kids and her own gigs, and everything else she does on a daily basis which Lenny finds totally fucking nuts, he's not surprised, but he's disappointed. He fucking misses her, even it'd just be hearing her voice.

He'd caught her once, and admitted to feeling tight in his own skin. It had felt good to say it out loud and hear her tell him that she's proud of him; that she knows it's hard sometimes, but she knows he's got this.

And he does got this. It's just hard.

He kills on his first night in San Francisco, and he thinks seriously about hanging around the bar to make some friends. There's a clique of obviously gay men who are lively and kind who came to his show tonight and they're fun and funny and distracting. He figures one drink won't hurt.

"Bombshell at six o'clock," one of the men says. "She better be careful, or some very bitchy man is going to try and strip that Dior dress right off her."

The other men at the bar laugh at that, and when Lenny leans back to check out the chick they're taking about he nearly falls right off of his fucking stool, because there's Midge, looking around, wearing a beautiful dusty pink dress paired with black heels.

"Shit," Lenny snaps as he scrambles not to fall, and the men surrounded him laugh harder.

"Uh-oh, Lenny had a moment," one of them teases.

"Honey, I know she's pretty, but you cannot be that desperate," another says, nudging him.

"I am," Lenny admits with a self-deprecating chuckle. "But only because that's my fiancé."

The other three men look shocked, and one of them laughs.

"Her?" he asks. "Lenny, you're adorable, but she is out of your league."

"I am deeply aware," Lenny tells him. "But the lady wants what the lady wants."

One of the other men narrows his eyes at Lenny, as if trying to see through his suit. "Wait, how big is your dick?"

They all laugh, and Lenny's short outburst draws Midge's attention right away, and she smiles as she wanders up.

“I guess I missed a good joke,” she says as she wraps her arms around Lenny’s neck and kisses his jaw from behind him. 

“Gentlemen,” Lenny says cordially. “The fiance: Midge. Midge, my drinking companions for the night.” 

The three men smile and introduce themselves as George, Devon and Randal. 

“Very nice to meet all of you,” Midge smiles. “My weekend suddenly opened up completely so I opted for a sneak attack.” 

“I thought you had the kids this weekend,” Lenny says, looking back at her, confused. 

“I did, but Joel wanted to do a big fun dad weekend, and Mama kidnapped Kitty to help with some matchmaking business,” Midge explains. “So I found myself on my own.” 

“Gigs?” Lenny asks. 

“I kept it free for a break,” MIdge tells him. 

Lenny nods and gets to his feet, offering her his seat. “Drink?” 

“Drink.” 

“Midge, we’re trying to figure out how Lenny convinced you to get engaged,” George tells her. “He’s cute and all, but you my dear are gorgeous.” 

“Why thank you,” Midge laughs as she settles in on the stool. “There are many reasons I said yes.” 

“Does one of them live south of his belt?” Devon stage whispers, leaning in. 

Midge smirks. “That, and the tongue.” 

All three men laugh and holler at that admission, and Lenny drops his head onto Midge’s shoulder, his own shoulders shaking with mirth.  

***** 

They stumble back to his very nice hotel room a couple of hours later after a few more drinks. She’d stopped by the hotel before the bar, and had her bags brought up to his room, and Lenny feels so much less anxiety-ridden. Just the sight of her bags sitting just inside his hotel room door giving him some relief. 

“Tonight was fun,” Midge says, smiling at him. “I'm sorry I missed your set. I couldn’t get an earlier flight.” 

“I’ve got another one tomorrow,” he tells her. “And then we can fly home together on Monday morning.” 

“That’s what I was thinking,” she smiles, slipping out of her heels and wiggling her toes. “This is nice.” 

“Well, when you get the Supreme Court to strike down a bunch of unfair obscenity laws so you don’t keep getting arrested, your manager rewards you with a nice hotel,” Lenny tells her, leaning against the wall and watching MIdge as she looks around.

“Nice,” Midge smiles as she looks out at the view.  

“You didn’t have to come all the way here,” he says softly. “It hasn’t been great, but I’m okay.” 

She turns to him, leaning against the window. “I know you are. But I missed you. I didn’t want to spend the weekend without you.” 

Lenny steps up to her slowly, slipping his arms around her. “I don’t know how you do it,” he says softly. “Just having you here with your luggage makes me feel less like a fucking nut, and all you’ve done is have a couple of drinks, and wander around the hotel room a little.” 

Midge smiles gently and wraps her arms around him. “You’re homesick.” 

He frowns. “I never thought of that. I never used to get homesick.”

She shrugs. “I guess that says something about how you feel about home now.” 

Lenny nods slowly, and doesn’t tell her that it’s not so much a place that’s home anymore. It’s mostly her. Instead of saying that out loud, he leans in and kisses her slowly, pulling her close. 

When it ends, Midge pulls him back in, kissing him again deeply, hungrily, letting him guide her over to the comfortable-looking bed as she shoves his suit jacket off and starts working on his tie. Soon, she’s lying back on the mattress in her corset and panties, gazing up at him heatedly. His shirt is untucked and mostly unbuttoned, and she's left most of her lipstick on his jaw and neck and chest; Berry-colored brands that leave him dizzy with need. 

"I still can't believe you're here," he breathes out.

Midge sits up, reaching for him, pulling him down onto the bed with her and kissing him slowly. "Is this helping the reality to sink in?' 

"It's certainly a start," he mutters as she wrestles him out of his shirt. He unhooks her corset (a light blue thing) and pulls it away, letting it drop onto the floor as he drinks in her bare torso. "This definitely helps."

Midge smiles and kisses him again and he shifts on top of her, letting his hands roam her skin, his fingers tracing the curves of her breasts as he kisses between them, marking a path downwards. 

Her voice is soft and shaky as she pants out her praise for him, settled between her thighs as her panties join her corset on the floor. Nearly three weeks apart have made her desperate and the "yes" and "please" and "Lenny" and "more" spur him on.  

She shakes apart quickly, gripping the bed sheets and moaning softly, and he could stay there kneeling on the carpet for hours doing this over and over again, but that nearly three weeks apart is gnawing at him too. He opts to stand up to rid himself of his slacks and undershorts and to grab a condom from her handbag. 

Soon she's wrapped around him, her hands in his hair, kissing him languidly as he rocks into her.

She's needier than he is tonight, coming quickly and it takes him a little more time to get there which somehow builds her towards a third orgasm.

"Oh…oh God, Lenny," her voice is a little frantic, high pitched, surprised at her own trajectory. 

Normally he spends a little more time on foreplay, so while he does, as a rule, like to try to get her off three times in a night, it generally doesn't happen this way, and the thrill has him thrusting harder, chasing both of their pleasure. 

"Midge," he finds himself whimpering. "Yes." 

She comes hard around him, soundless as she tenses and bows up against him, knocking him right over the edge a moment later with a low moan.

They lie there like that for a long time in a boneless pile, panting softly. 

"Holy fuck," Midge mutters. 

He tries to think of something funny. Something about the holiness of fucking, but his brain feels like it's melted down to a liquid state and all he can think to do is nuzzles in against her. 

"I don't know if you missed me," he quips finally. "But you certainly missed something."

She laughs and playfully slaps his ass, making him grunt and laugh too. 

"Someone is angling for number four," he teases. 

Midge kisses him softly as she nudges him to lay on his back. "Maybe later." 

Lenny gazes up at her, a hand reaching up to brush her hair from her eyes. "Something happen back home?"

She gazes back at him for a moment. "Mei is pregnant again."

Lenny blinks, surprised. "Jesus, she's a doctor, you'd think she'd be better versed in contraceptives."

"On purpose this time," Midge says. "They wanted number four, so…" 

He watches her carefully as she trails off, and it's clear she's fighting with her own feelings. 

"You want another?" He offers. 

"Yes, but can't I just grow it externally and not have to lose career momentum?" 

"We would figure it out," he promises. "Susie would help."

"We're not even married yet," Midge argues. 

Lenny shrugs. "So we put it on the to-do list. Get married. Have baby."

She blinks at him. "Do you want a baby?" 

He thinks about that. So focused on what she wants that he'd forgotten to think about his own opinion on the subject. 

Babies are tough. They cry and they're needy and there is so much poop. So fucking much. 

When Kitty was a baby, he'd been using. A fucked up mess of a person who had done his best but he distinctly remembers just how fucking terrible the combination of drugs and childcare had been. 

Things have changed, though. He's different. Clean for a number of years. With someone who isn't just his fiance but his partner. They do a pretty good job with Ethan and Esther and Kitty. 

And a kid that's part of them both…

"It's very tempting," he admits. "I like being a dad…I wasn't exactly… shall we say, present when Kitty was first born…" 

Midge nods, wrapping her arms around him firmly. "Put it on the to-do list?"

Lenny nods. "Second item," he says, kissing her temple. 

[hartigays]

I’m laughing thinking about Ward going through the 5 stages of grief after learning Rafe has a boyfriend

ward cameron when rafe tells him he’s a raging homosexual:

fic under the cut!!

the dinner table is silent, save for the noises of forks and knives clinking against porcelain.

rafe stares down at his steak, mouth watering but refusing to eat it. he has plans later, after all, and steak is not kind to his bowels, despite how delicious it may be going down.

his bowels do not need to be in a twist for what’s in store for him later.

barry would probably murder him in the front yard of his trailer - it has been a week since they’ve been able to see each other, after all. and as barry had so eloquently put it on the phone earlier, rafe needs to be prepared to be “taken down to pound town, back around, and down again”.

not like anyone at the table needs to know this, but rafe imagines he’ll get questions soon enough about his lack of enthusiasm towards his meal.

almost as if she could read his mind, rose fixes rafe with a calculating look and asks, “rafe, why aren’t you eating? that’s a perfectly good steak, i don’t want it going to waste.”

going to waste, rafe thinks with an internal snort. everything in this house goes to waste - it’s just part of living on figure eight. everything is disposable, everything is replaceable.

“rafe, eat your steak,” ward insists with a sigh, not looking up from his plate. “i’m not in the mood tonight.”

in the mood for what, rafe has no idea. ward is acting like rafe is a fussy 4-year-old who he has to constantly battle with to eat his peas, when in reality ward couldn’t give less of a shit about what rafe does or says or eats on a daily basis, so long as it’s not making the family look bad.

the thought alone has rafe gritting his teeth, glaring across the table at his sorry excuse for a father.

“i’m not hungry,” rafe lies, folding his arms across his chest.

ward sighs again, like this 2-second conversation has pained him greatly, still not looking up. “i’m not arguing with you, rafe. eat the damn steak or leave the table. no one is in the mood for your sulking.”

rafe makes a face, then rolls his eyes. “i’m not sulking. but whatever, i have to be somewhere anyway.”

he scoots his chair back, ignoring sarah eyeing him warily from the seat adjacent to his.

“be somewhere? it’s almost nine,” rose questions. she raises her brows at rafe expectantly.

rose is looking at him like the stern stepmother she pretends to be, acting like she actually gives a shit where rafe is going, when the question was really only asked to ensure that whatever rafe is doing, it won’t reflect poorly on everyone else.

never mind that rafe is nearly 20 years old and can go wherever he pleases. he’s also gotten sick of this notion that every move he makes will somehow make them all look bad and tear the family apart. despite the fact that sarah is the one who’s openly dating a pogue, one who’s basically a walking red flag.

barry may live on the cut, but at least he doesn’t brand himself the king of pogueland.

rafe narrows his eyes at rose before making a split-second decision.

“well, my boyfriend gets off work late, so yeah. i have somewhere to be at nine,” rafe says offhandedly, like it’s no big deal, like everyone already knew he was a massive fruit who’s been on his knees for his local coke dealer for the past six months.

the sounds of silverware clattering onto plates fills the room, and rafe feels ridiculously satisfied with himself for getting a reaction. he loves to see these idiots squirm.

he’d rather see them all choke on rat poison, but barry is insistent that he won’t continue fucking rafe if he goes off and kills his whole family.

barry is lucky rafe loves him, because honestly, not being allowed to murder people who irritate him is kind of a buzzkill.

“you- who- your what?” ward sputters, the first to break the heavy silence.

“my boyfriend,” rafe repeats slowly, enunciating, treating ward like he’s the stupid, petulant child he constantly claims rafe is.

rafe watches ward’s face go from pale, to pink, to violently red. there’s a set to his jaw and rafe just knows ward would give anything to leap across the table and wring rafe’s neck right this very moment.

“no, nope, absolutely not,” ward snaps, furious in his denial. “not my son. no.”

“ward- ” rose starts, but ward cuts her off with a swift wave of his hand.

“do you realize how this will look for us if anyone finds out?” ward spits, holding his fork in a white-knuckle grip.

sarah actually speaks up on rafe’s behalf, which is probably the most shocking reaction rafe has gotten so far.

“dad, come on. it’s 2021,” she says with a sigh, shaking her head. “besides, rafe being gay is probably one of the only good things about him. or, wait, are you bi? or gay?”

sarah questions rafe casually, like this information doesn’t come as any kind of shock to her. rafe makes a mental note to revisit that later, along with her comment about it being one of his only good traits. she’s looking at him almost in earnest, and for a brief moment rafe is transported back to a time when he actually liked his sister.

“not that it’s any of your business,” rafe starts, glancing at her, “but i’m gay. thanks for asking. anyway, like i said, i have somewhere to be, so- ”

“not a big deal?” ward hisses, cutting him off, clearly still stuck on sarah’s surprising defense of rafe’s sexuality. “not a big deal? sarah, it’s- no, see? no. we aren’t talking about this.”

Despite his own declaration, Ward continues, “what about all those girls? all those girls you hung around with? the ones you brought around? you know you can still have them over from time to time. i know we talked about respect and responsibility, but i suppose a man does need to let loose every now and then, and if it’ll help- ”

this time, rafe is the one to cut ward off, not in the mood for his pathetic attempt at bargaining.

“dad. dad. i’m gay,” rafe says firmly. “forget about the girls. it wasn’t what you thought.”

ward opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to form some sort of coherent response. then, he buries his face in his hands, groaning.

“why is it always something with you, rafe?” ward mumbles through his hands, sounding defeated. “can we not just have one day? one day without your life overshadowing everything we’ve worked towards?”

rafe rolls his eyes at ward’s dramatics. “how does me liking dick ruin anything for this family?”

“rafe, wheezie is right here!” rose admonishes. wheezie just chokes on her water, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

“sorry, wheeze,” rafe tells her, feeling only a little bad. “but i’m just saying. half the guys on figure eight go both ways. it’s seriously not a big deal.”

ward finally looks up at rafe, crossing his arms before staring for a long stretch. long enough that rafe starts to turn to go, itching to get away and back to the one person who doesn’t make him want to rip his hair out.

“fine,” ward finally says just as rafe turns on his heel. “fine. but don’t- don’t expect me to meet him. or like him. and for the love of god, don’t bring him to important events. whoever he is, he’s bound to draw attention.”

that’s very, very true. and rafe has every intention of dragging barry to the next auction or gala or what the fuck ever, clad in one of his stupid sleeveless t-shirts and basketball shorts and his hair in a messy, tangled bun - the whole nine yards.

he’s dying to see the look on ward’s face when he shows up to some black-tie event with barry the cocaine king slash dirty mechanic slash army vet in tow.

“so is that it?” rafe asks, sounding bored even to his own ears. “can i go now?”

ward still looks like he wants to slam his head through the nearest window, but he nods. accepting the truth that rafe has forcibly laid out before him, albeit reluctantly.

rafe nods back, turning and walking away with his hands stuffed in his pockets, whistling a tune that’s far too cheerful given the looks on everyone’s faces as he exits the dining room.

his favorite is ward’s, still looking angry and defeated and resigned to his acceptance of rafe’s preferences all at once. rafe hops onto his motorbike, yanking on his helmet with a smile.

barry will be proud of him, he thinks. not only did he finally come out to his family, but he also didn’t feed them rat poison during the process.

baby steps. he’s taking them one at a time, very carefully, and he thinks that’s something at least.

maybe barry will reward him for his efforts, rafe wonders, just before revving his bike to life and speeding off the property.

rafe deserves a reward, in his own personal opinion. and after all, his opinion is the only one that matters, really.

maybe barry’s, too, but only when it suits rafe. if that happens to be more often than rafe would care to admit, well. that’s between him and Jesus.

the night air is cool as it whips around him, and rafe looks forward to the warmth of barry and his shitty little trailer, not sparing a single thought about the mess he just left in his wake.

rafe presses harder on the gas, heading towards home.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

comfy, for your consideration: geraskier tarzan au

oooooooo yessssss 

this is perfect braincell fuel tonight nonie. thank you 🙏

do i think the content of Tarzan is kosher? no. am i gonna miss an opportunity to put my hoey boys in that situation and let my brain run with it? also no. things don't have to be unproblematic to be enjoyed, moving on.

I want Jaskier as Tarzan 👀👀👀 - not what you were expecting, I know, but hear me out.

Jaskier swinging through the trees, lithe and strong and curious, finds Geralt, part time intellectual and big time dubmass, backed into a corner with just his bitch ass notepad and a penknife against a leopard. 

He swoops him off his feet and Geralt blue screens bc ‘holy shit I haven’t been picked up by anyone since God-knows-when and he saved me from the big scary cats I was trying to draw I think imma die’

Geralt is fascinated by the human who doesn't act human -think about it. Geralt is such a fuckin nerd! He would be a perfect Jane! Pretty, optimistic (just work with me here), stubborn, very excited about the possibility of sentient creatures, father figure is also a giant nerd, and repressed as hell

come on, victorian women have nothing on Geralt of Rivia when it comes to pretending not to have feelings/be human

Jaskier as Tarzan!?!?!?!?!? Slim-strong, big curious eyes, no personal space, ridiculous amounts of empathy, did I say curious(?), ridiculously emotionally available, and teaches the other main character how to chill tf out and smell the fucking roses.

That and, to be completely honest, I just really wanna put Joey in a loincloth and set him loose in the jungle. I think it would be great fun and his shoulders are very pretty. 

This also gives us room for the ever beloved Delicate Sensibilities Geralt.

“Oh no! I ripped my shirt! Jaskier will see my rippling muscles and light dusting of chest hair! Whatever shall I do!?”

see also

“No, Lambert you don't understand. He gently held my face between his palms and brushed his thumbs against my cheekbones. Then he stared into my eyes like they held the world. My fiance barely acknowledges my existence! Do you- fuck no I’m not doing that to you it was romantic as hell!”

Jaskier is also feral as fuck when it comes to protecting people he cares about. Like. he may be a dufis in the show, but he has the heart okay? He would absolutely go against fuckin whats-his-nuts-big-gorilla and save his stupid scientist boyfriend.

Holy shit Stregodouche as Clayton.

Geralt wouldn’t even do the final scene with the whole getting on the ship either. He’d sit his ass down with his sketchpad and books in the sand and refuse to move. 

His expedition party would leave and he’d just waltz into the woods to his lover’s arm and they’d bring all his books up to the treehouse and be cute and dumb and pretty together for the rest of their lives. bc fuck the ending of that movie

What I’m really saying is: I want a George of the Jungles style movie with the whole female gaze thing but i want it gay, and i want to get rid of all the toxic shit. 

[elliewritessometimes]

hello! me n @mattieswheelers wrote another fic!! tiff is the most incredible writing partner and i- i just love them???? thanky so much for writing with me you are a stunning writer aaaa (y'all there will be a second chapter stay tuned fdhhddh aLSO we are posting this on ao3 it will be there at some point)

in other news: this was originally a request!! @notsomightymightytiger it may have taken me uh- a good couple of months but here is your fic!!!

for reference, these numbers apply to these tropes: first kiss/flowers of romance/blind date

LOVE YOU KIERA AND TIFF AAAAA HOPE YOU LIKE

tw: swearing, alcohol and drunkenness but not in an angsty farrah way just in a silly oops first date way, as per usual if there's anything at all you want me to tag let me know :D

---

Eva thought she was doing perfectly fine without a romantic partner. Her life was normal, one filled with work and friends and scrolling through Pinterest.

Apparently, in the eyes of her best friend, this was not a normal life. Farrah had always been a bit extra, that one kid in highschool who always seemed to know where the best parties were, or who was known by name to the baristas at the local Starbucks, and by the ripe old age of 22, she believed that a romantic partner was crucial to living a fulfilling life.

Or, at least, that you should at least try romance once before becoming a hermit in the woods, especially if your name was Eva Sanchez.

(“Look, normally I wouldn’t be like this,” Farrah drawled, leaning against a counter, “But deep inside  you are nothing but a useless gay at heart-”

Her phone buzzed.

“-and you haven’t dated anyone, like, ever, and if I have to be the only one constantly dragging you out to social gatherings, I’m going to die early. So do me a solid, will you?”

“Hey-!”)

Eva did not agree.

But, she was a loyal friend, and that was how she found herself sitting in an overly posh restaurant on some random blind date with some random person that she’d never even seen before. It would be an understatement to say she was a little bit nervous, but then again, whenever Farrah was involved, that was normal.

***********: hi sorry i got your number from the blind date place thing but uh are you the person at the table in the corner

***********: ???denim jacket ?? pride pin??

Eva smiled, glancing up at the door. There was another person looking a little lost in the entrance, very obviously trying not to draw attention to themselves, their phone held close to their face as they squinted around at the restaurant. They were pretty, dark hair pulled up into a loose ponytail, obviously not dressed for a restaurant as upper class as this one. Eva liked them immediately. Raising a hand, she waved in their direction, laughing as her date gasped dramatically, hurrying over and nearly overturning a tray of drinks on their way.

“Hello.”

“Look-” Eva’s date slumped in the seat opposite, one hand awkwardly held behind their back. “I dunno about you, but I certainly did not willingly sign up for this. You see, my friend wanted me to apparently live a more interesting life and stop relying on Tumblr as my only source of interaction with anyone, and my friend is very persuasive, so here I am.”

Eva raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, so I wanted to get that out of the way before we even introduce ourselves. I am here out of spite only, so, uh, I hope you’re not too desperate.” They paused, finally taking a breath. “Right. The more I think about this, the more embarrassed I get.”

“It’s okay.” Eva gave a noise which sounded suspiciously like a snort. “Let’s not think about it then. I’m Eva. She/her. It’s nice to meet you, unwilling datemate.”

They grinned. “Kate. She/they.” She gasped a little like she’d forgotten something. “Oh! I brought flowers. Chess said it would be romantic.”

Eva accepted the offered flowers with a blush. This date was going better than expected. Farrah was going to lose her shit when she heard about it. “Wait- You have a friend called Chess?? Like, the game???”

Kate rolled their eyes, casually snatching a bright pink cocktail off a passing waiter’s tray. “Duh. You didn’t really see me walk in this fucking posh ass restaurant in my flannel and converse and think I’d be normal, right?”

Eva laughed then, properly. It had only been a few short, chaotic minutes, but she was already warming to this mystery person and, God, they had good taste in flowers. Even if Eva’s nerd hermit brain did helpfully choose that moment to remind her that this particular bunch of flowers presented a meaning that translated almost exactly to ‘fuck you’. She wondered if Kate was aware of that. However, perhaps that was a fun fact for the second date.

-

“Hey, Eva?” Kate was slightly tipsy. Only a little bit! Really not that bad. Not at all. Definitely not too drunk for a first date. Shut up. “Hey! You’re- so cool.”

Eva giggled - she was equally as drunk, but not quite so intoxicated as to stop wondering why the restaurant hadn’t thrown them out yet. “Noooooo. ‘m a nerd.”

“Yeah, but a cool nerd.” Kate twirled the decorative candle between her fingers, drawing stares from disapproving patrons. The flame reflected in Eva’s glasses, making her just a little bit more smitten by the second. They enclosed their hand around the candle holder as best they could, standing up just a little shakily. “Eva-” It was like they got a rush from just saying her name. Eva thought it was endearing. “Hey- we- we should go…”

“Why?” She narrowed her eyes, also standing up, her long-discarded denim jacket slung over one arm, the other naturally slipping to link arms with Kate.

“....Arson.” Kate sounded entirely serious, still twizzling the candle in one hand. Eva blinked dumbly at her, mouth slightly open. They pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Eva’s mouth, giggling uncharacteristically at the motion. “I’m jokingggg! Don’t look so shook, my dude.”

Eva stuttered a little, letting Kate pull her finally out of the restaurant, marvelling at the fact she’d only known this incredible, crazy person for a matter of hours. Who knew where tonight would take them?

-

They found themselves in a park, gazing up at the stars, now dim in the reflections of the city lights. Kate’s phone flashed 11:46 in the dark, the lock screen filled with notifications from a contact who’s name consisted only of a chess piece.

Eva lay down on the grass, spreading her arms out towards the stars. “Do you ever think about life?”

“Sure. All the time. I’m alive, and so are you, and I think you’re really pretty. Does that count?” Kate flopped down beside her.

“I- I mean, yeah- um,” Eva tried not to sound flustered, thankful for the darkness that hid the color rising in her cheeks. “But like, life. Scientifically. Relatively.”

“Uh-huh. Yeah, I totally do. Um. Do I?”

Eva laughed, turning her head slightly to gaze at Kate. Under the light of the stars, they looked… ethereal. And really, really, really beautiful. And-

Eva coughed slightly, turning back towards the night sky. “Just… think about it. I’m lying here beside you, on a giant marble that hurtles through space. Relatively speaking, our orbit and path are unique, and all around us, the other planets are… swirling in harmony, and we’re just. We’re just here to see it.”

Kate hummed. “You sound like those philosophical people, all ‘if a tree falls in a forest and no one is there to hear it, did it really fall?’ and ‘relatively speaking I am relatively here, and I’m relatively certain… blah blah blah.’”

“Huh. Do I?” Eva shrugged, putting her hands behind her head. “I dunno. I’m drunk. I think. Oh, no, I’m relatively drunk, ha ha- okay no, I’m just drunk.”

“You are,” Kate nodded wisely. “We both are.”

“Do you know what Albert Einstein said once?” Eva asked abruptly, closing her eyes. “He said, ‘When you’re courting a nice girl, an hour seems like a second. When you sit on a red-hot cinder, a second seems like an hour. That's relativity.’ And if that isn’t the most relatable thing he’s ever said, then, well- okay yeah I’ve lost my train of thought.”

“Wow,” said Kate. “Did Albert Einstein court lots of nice girls?”

“Pfft.” Eva rolled onto her side, laughing openly in Kate’s face. “Sure. Why not.”

They rolled to face Eva, curling up into a ball, softer than the 22-year-old had seen her all evening. “Not as nice as the one I’m courting right now.”

“Even though neither of us really wanted to be here earlier?”

“Yeah. Y’know, I’m fucking glad our best friends basically set us up. It’s very pog of them.”

“You did not just say ‘pog’. You did not.” Eva groaned into the slightly damp, slightly disgusting grass, listening to Kate cackle next to her.

“Shit, dude, my secret’s out. I’m just as much of a nerd as you.” She leant their head on Eva’s outstretched arm, burrowing into her side.

Eva paused then, draping her other arm around Kate, thinking quietly. It was stupid, really, that they were cuddling in the openness of a park at almost midnight. Dangerous, definitely, especially when you took in the candle still flickering far too close to Kate’s now loose hair. Some more sensible people, maybe Farrah’s sister, would say that it was stupid how close they’d grown in so few hours. But Kate and Eva weren’t sensible people, not really, and maybe this was completely normal for them. Nerds lived life differently. “We’re not like other girls… we’re nerds.”

Kate barked out a laugh again, pressing yet another small kiss to the top of Eva’s head.

Eva thought she might melt into a puddle right then and there.

God, she was so in love.

Kate looked up at the sky. “Y’know, for all your philosophical talk, you should be an inspirational speaker. Be on goddamn TedTalks or something, blow the crowd away with all that ‘the future’s in the palm of my hand!!’ bullshit.”

“Well,” Eva said, trying to sound completely sober (and failing), “I think all I could ever want is in the palm of my hand, right now.”

Kate paused for a moment, registering the fact that Eva had just cupped her hands around their face. “Wow. That was smooth.”

“Right?? I’m honestly impressed and I was the one who said it. Wait, is that hubris? Oh shoot, am I developing an ego? Or maybe I’m just drunk?” Eva’s head was seriously starting to hurt.

“You deserve an ego,” Kate nodded sagely. “You are so amazing. Seriously. You should have an ego. Dab on the haters and all that jazz, right? Right.”

Eva giggled, unable to take her eyes away from Kate’s. “What the shit?”

“Dude! Dab on the haters. ‘m fuckin’ right, and you know I am.”

“Mkay.”

“Lit.” Kate dragged her gaze from Eva’s, instead staring up at the stars. “If we weren’t drunk right now, I’d be kissing the hell out of you.”

Eva pouted. Apparently Drunk-Eva was limited to the facial expressions of a twelve year old. “Who’s to say you can’t kiss me now.”

“We’re drunk, Eva.” They waved their hands, casually flipping off the moon. “Consent.”

“If you think about drunk...ness. Drunkenness? Drunkness. Whatever.” She coughed. “If you think about it like maths, then because we’re both drunk, it cancels out, right? Like, drunk you minus drunk me equals zero drunks overall, yeah?” Pausing, she ran a hand over her face, watching Kate smirk and wriggle closer out of the corner of her eye. “What I’m saying is, yes, I give you permission to kiss me-” Kate leaned closer and Eva laid a gentle finger on their lips. “But only if I get to kiss you back.”

The two met in the middle, naturally coming together. Some might describe them as magnets, two poles attracted, unable to stay away from each other. Others might say soulmates, meant to find each other from birth. Or, just maybe, stars, gravitationally pulled together, ready to explode into another plane of existence, one so different from our reality that we can’t even begin to imagine the wonders that they’ll find.

However, this is reality, and somehow Kate and Eva are still grounded on our Earth, stars maybe, but ones made of ancient stardust no longer free to travel the universe. They found themselves pulling apart after two worlds collided, an unknown period of time passing as it happened. Eva’s fingers didn’t untangle themselves from their comfortable seat amongst Kate’s hair, the closeness making their noses brush, spouting giggles from both young adults.

“Well, that was fun.” Kate brushed hair out of Eva’s face, one arm still wrapped tight around her waist, pulling her closer as she shivered in the night air.

“Yeah?” Eva pressed her forehead to theirs. “Why don’t we try it again, huh?”

---

“I told you so,” Farrah smirked, picking at a freshly baked blueberry muffin. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Eva huffed, failing to come up with an argument.

Over by the kitchen counter, Mattie snorted. “I find it kinda funny that the single girl insists that love is the answer to anything.”

“Well- it’s not like I’ve never dated!”

“Suuuuure,” Mattie rolled her eyes, hopping off the counter and snatching a muffin. “Anyways, at least Eva has a significant other now. That’s the biggest victory, right? Other than the celebratory muffins, of course.”

Eva sighed. “Is it really that big of a deal that Farrah’s plan worked?”

“Yep!” Farrah grinned, taking a bite of muffin.

“Technically, my plan, but okay,” Mattie shrugged.

Eva almost dropped her muffin. “What.”

Mattie grinned, a devilish glint appearing in her eye. “Believe it or not, I am also friends with none other than the amazing Chess, and since her friend Kate- who is also my friend, by the way- was being a mopey mess around the same time as you, I just had to take it upon myself to play matchmaker! So I’d like at least 50% of the credit and reward, please and thank you.”

“I- what-” Eva sputtered, trying to come to terms with the new information. “Mattie- you- oh my God.”

“Oh my God indeed,” Mattie bit into her muffin and swallowed. “So anyways, you’re welcome for getting you a girlfriend.”

Eva stared at the younger girl, mouth slightly open and muffin hanging loosely in her hand. Farrah clapped a hand over her mouth as she wheezed through a mess of sugar and blueberries, earning herself a death stare from Eva. Phone in one hand, Mattie continued eating her muffin as though nothing had happened, the teasing look on her face only exaggerating as her phone pinged with a message. “Oh! Speaking of, Chess is outside-”

She was cut off as the door burst open, the handle crashing into Eva’s bookcase, knocking her alarm clock to the ground and presenting two dishevelled figures in the doorway. One of them, a tall student probably in their last year of uni, puffed out a breath, a hand tightly clinging to a much shorter student squirming angrily. “Before you say anything, I tried to prevent any of this happening. Wheeler, I’m blaming you entirely for this.”

Mattie only laughed, offering Chess a muffin with her free hand, “Dude, it was totally your idea.”

Eva tried very hard not to stare as Kate finally freed herself from Chess’ grasp with an indignant yelp. “Fuck off! Eva, babe, sweetheart, love of my life, tell me you didn’t fucking know about this beforehand or I will break up with you.”

“No! God, no! You know I didn’t want to be there just as much as you did.” She rested her head gently on top of Kate’s, arms draped over their shoulders. “Believe you me, I’ve also been sorely betrayed today.”

Farrah gagged across the kitchen. “Ew. We should never have set you two up.”

“Bitch.” Eva grinned affectionately at her best friend, batting Kate’s hand down as they sent a middle finger in Farrah’s direction. Conversations carried on for a while, Chess finally being introduced to Farrah, with a muffin being forcefully placed into her hand. Kate whispered to Eva for a second before going out to take a call. Eva smiled knowingly, leaning on the counter to address Mattie, “So…”

Mattie made a face as Eva raised an eyebrow in her direction. “What are you thinking, Sanchez, I don’t like that face.”

“I don’t know…” She feigned thinking, sticking her tongue out as Kate re-entered the room. “Maybe, a little thank-you gift?? Y’know, me and Kate were thinking just now… Seeing as you set us up so nicely, how about you try a blind date yourself?”

Chess and Farrah stifled a laugh in unison, choking a little on their muffins as Mattie’s eyes got wider in horror. “You didn’t.”

Kate smiled sweetly. “Yup! Tonight, seven thirty. It’s payback time, kid.”

“I hate you.”

[maxwell-grant]

Thoughts on the Shadow's Doppelganger, Lamont Cranston

The funny thing about Cranston in the original stories is that, yeah, one of the most famous scenes across all Shadow media is the “Lamont Cranston Talks to Himself” chapter in The Shadow Laughs, where we learn that The Shadow is not Lamont Cranston, but has usurped his identity, and now shows up at his bedside looking like him, talking like him, knowing more about his own life than he himself does, and ordering him to leave town, effectively blackmailing him into letting him use his face. It’s a very iconic scene that exemplifies a lot of what makes The Shadow unique as a character, and you can imagine why so many adaptations have gone with the idea of Cranston being either a hapless stooge bullied into submission, or an actual villain, because that whole scene is very much a horror movie scenario. 

Thing is, none of them seem to remember how Cranston and The Shadow’s relationship developed past this. I’ll post this excerpt from Atoms of Death:

"Good morning, Cranston," came a quiet tone from the foot of the bed.

"Good morning, yourself," returned Cranston, rubbing his eyes without noticing the visitor.

"You should say: Good morning, myself," chuckled The Shadow, dryly.

Cranston was pulling down the sleeves of his pajama jacket. He sat bolt upright, staring. Then a slow smile showed on his lips; one that was almost a replica of The Shadow's.

"So it's you," remarked Cranston, sleepily. "Well, I knew that last night. It was about time we crossed paths again. Well, old man, you landed me in for plenty this trip."

Cranston shoved bedclothes aside and perched on the edge of the bed. He found cigarettes on the telephone table; The Shadow supplied a flame from a lighter before Cranston could ignite a match. The millionaire noted that The Shadow's lighter bore the initials "L. C." 

"You handle every detail, don't you?" questioned Cranston in admiration. “Jove! I remember the first time I met you. In this very room. You dropped cloak and hat and left me looking at my own face as plainly as if I had seen it in a mirror. Just as it is today."

"And I advised you," recalled The Shadow, in Cranston's own tone, "to take a trip abroad, while I used your identity. You were a bit exasperated at first."

"I must admit that I was. I threatened to have you arrested, as an impostor, until you proved that you knew more about my affairs than I did. I really believe that if it had come to a showdown, I would have been proven the impostor and you the genuine Lamont Cranston. Jove!"

"Jove," repeated The Shadow, quietly, "You have acquired that expression recently, Cranston. I shall remember it for future reference. You have a penchant for acquiring anglicisms during your sojourns in British colonies. Jove!"

"Bounder and blighter," laughed Cranston. "Don't forget those. I still use them occasionally."

Or this excerpt from The Hydra, which is an incredible book where the chemistry between the two really shines:

Lamont Cranston woke up and wondered why his head still whirled. It took him about half a minute to learn that the motion came from the fact he was riding in his limousine. Someone must have put him back in the limousine and Stanley was driving him home. 

He didn't have to guess who had helped him on his way, for at that moment Cranston heard a low-toned laugh beside him. He turned to see the black-cloaked figure of The Shadow.

"What did you hit me with?" asked Cranston. "All four of your automatics?"

"I'm only carrying a pair tonight," replied The Shadow

Look at these two dorks, just palling around and getting into shenanigans and The Shadow outright joking around Cranston, like they are just two old chums having a laugh at the weirdness of their lives. The “real” Cranston didn’t show up very often in the original stories, especially in the last stories when Lamont Cranston essentially became the real identity of The Shadow, but when he did, part of what makes him stand out as his own character is that he’s funny. Gibson gets a lot of mileage out of Cranston as this guy who is completely nonchalant and chill about all the weird shit that happens to him, even in The Hydra after he kills a man with an elephant gun, he’s still more or less the same, he largely just walks out of it with a newfound realization. 

Relieving Cranston of the elephant gun, The Shadow steered his friend into the closet. Hauling the big weapon with him, The Shadow opened the door to meet and dismiss arriving servants who had dashed upstairs when they felt the house quake. 

"Whenever I see this gun," began Cranston, coming from the closet, "I'll remember what I did with it -" 

“Quite right," interposed The Shadow approvingly. "What you did to Mance will make amends for any elephants you may have killed. Too bad Mance didn't bring along a few more Hydra Heads.”

Slowly, understanding dawned on Cranston. He'd never compared his big-game hunts with The Shadow's quests for men of crime. He felt that The Shadow's cause was justified, but it had seemed outside the field of sport. It still was, but Cranston, now that he had dealt with a murderer who deserved to die, was realizing that his game hunts were more deserving of rebuke.

His encounters with The Shadow gradually changed Cranston from a useless millionaire wasting his resources and talents on idle pursuits, to...still largely a useless millionaire, except his resources and talents are no longer wasted and he’s gradually grown into a useful ally and friend to The Shadow. The Shadow tends to have that effect on people who work by his side and even Cranston, the guy whose main role in his organization is to just stay away and be useless somewhere else, can’t help but change a little into a better person when he appears. 

There’s an interesting article written by Bob Sampson called “The Third Shadow” which refers to the Bruce Elliot run of The Shadow Magazine, which is incredibly maligned by fans and not without reason, the stories all largely suck and the Shadow bears little resemblance to his former self, instead mostly feeling like a diet take on the radio show Lamont, more of an average detective. The theory Sampson puts out is that, during this period, it was actually Lamont Cranston who became active as The Shadow while Allard was busy overseas, and I definitely like this theory. It makes sense specially considering The Hydra sets up for Cranston to become more pro-active and serious:

While not the towering master-mind of Allard, he does become the next best thing: A post-war sleuth. He even indulges in wearing the cloak and slouch hat from time to time (to varying degrees of effectiveness), while trying to laugh like Allard (also to varying degrees of effectiveness) as if to fulfill that forbidden fantasy until he finally gets it out of his system. After all, The Shadow pretended to be him, why not the other way around?

As Bob Sampson put it: “It is always Cranston who explains all and takes the credit”. 

Probably very cathartic for Lamont, who for the last 18 years was relegated to being a distant supporting player in his own life. Cranston is still in contact with the agents however. He even receives "assignments" from Burbank. 

This entire arrangement could only be with The Shadow's tacit approval. Let us remember, Cranston was not merely some insipid fop. He certainly had done his own share of exploring and was indeed a hunter. He could handle a variety of firearms, was familiar with exotic peoples and their customs, knew how to stalk dangerous animals through the jungle and veldt, but he was not, nor ever claimed to be, a master secret-agent and soldier.

I think it is fitting that the writing is completely different for this period as well. Not the enigmatic journalistic style of Allards exploits, but the witty, modern champagne fizz of Cranston's odyssey in a Post-War world. He feels a full range of emotions. In the Gibson stories, The Shadow is at arms length. In the Elliott stories, Cranston is sitting right next to you on a train or an airplane or roadster. 

It’s also interesting to consider how Lamont Cranston has basically become the true name of The Shadow in pop culture. Often times it’s the name people use when they specifically want to reference The Shadow, the supposed “Ghost of Gay Street” hauntings in Gibson’s former apartment took the form of Lamont Cranston, and even in the stories, more and more people became aware of it as the years went by (which also helps reinforce the idea that the “real” Cranston eventually took to acting as a fill-in for The Shadow, to draw attention away from the real Shadow’s operations), and Gibson even mentioned a few times that Cranston was The Shadow’s “favorite” identity along with Arnaud. Which is kinda fascinating to think about and does hint at some weird underlying aspects of The Shadow’s psyche, that his favorite identity is one not his own.

And at last, there’s these passages from The Whispering Eyes, a book that does not mention Allard once, and the very last Shadow novel: 

From beneath the seat he was taking his black garb. Cloaked and hatted as he stepped from the cab, Cranston merged immediately with the darkness. He had become The Shadow. 

Cranston's switch to his other self could well be attributed to a hypnotic mood. The mental lapses produced through hypnosis were the sort that would often cause a subject to revert to habit. Now, as The Shadow, Cranston was still in what might be termed a haphazard mood. He was skirting through darkness, pausing, changing direction, behaving generally as though avoiding something that did not exist.

Lang had flung away his glasses; his eyes now showed the shining, hypnotic force that the lenses normally softened. He recognized the eyes that met his above a leveled gun muzzle.

The Shadow's eyes, yet strangely Cranston's, for this was one time The Shadow did not care to disguise them.

Which begs the question: Did Cranston succeed in fully becoming The Shadow? Or did The Shadow succeed in fully becoming Cranston?

[enbies-and-felonies]

Heather

@illavarasi @lemontarto @clearlykeefitz @book-limerence @sprintingkoala @anna-without-an-e  @everyonehasthoughts @ultralazycreatorfan @vibing-in-the-void @impostertamsong @littlemisscupcake @keeper-of-the-lost-queers @dragonwinnie @an-absolute-travesty @callas-starkflower-stew

~writing strike is over~

Summary: Fitz watches as he slowly loses Keefe, based off of this post.

warnings: internalized homophobia, swearing, general angst (and a rant that ties in heavily to current events) and caps (yelling)

~I still remember, before I brought her to the cities~

He was beautiful. Fitz had told a joke and now Keefe was laughing, and he was beautiful. Fitz wondered why his father had glared at the two men they had seen kissing at the Atlantis tea shop they had been visiting that evening. Kissing Keefe would have felt so. Right.

But he was only thirteen, so what did Fitz know?

~you and I together / you said we’d be forever, and I had hoped it was true~

“Another pair of crush cuffs,” Keefe said mockingly, but his smirk betrayed his words.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna wear them anyway, I don’t like her.” He didn’t like any of the girls.

“Well why not?! I’m sure-” Keefe paused to read the cuff’s, “-Azula is a darling girl.” 

“I couldn't care less. Girls are too... complicated. I’d much rather just hang out with someone I already know I like.”

Keefe flopped onto the bed beside him, “Like your best friend? Who got you all the ladies to begin with?” He turned over to his side and waggled his eyebrows at Fitz, who rolled his eyes in response.

“Girls break people’s hearts. They leave.” Fitz said. Not my heart, he thought.

“Well, I’ll never leave you, Roy. We’ll be forever besties.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

~ only if you knew, how much I liked you / but I watch your eyes as she / walks by ~

“So Foster was obviously not sleeping, like she always does, and I-” 

Keefe was rambling about Sophie, and Fitz’s heart was breaking. It was breaking and it didn’t matter because he was gay and he could never have been with Keefe anyway, but why did Keefe have to love her? Why couldn’t he just stay with Fitz forever?

“-but I guess it didn’t matter because after that she looked at me with those doe eyes, and Princey? I think- I think I might be falling for her.”

~replacing me in your mind, smile brighter than the sun in the sky / she’s got you mesmerized, while I’m crying~

“Hey Keefe, do you want to hang out tonight? I got this super cool elixir from Dex, and I want to see how it turns out. It would be perfect for pranking your dad.” Fitz smiled hopefully. Sure, Keefe liked Sophie, but they were still friends, they could still-

“Sorry Roo, another time? Sophie and I, and Linh and Marella, are gonna go to Atlantis to check out this hair stylist. Sophie wants to see me in braids, and I don’t trust Biana with my lovely locks. I didn’t get this head of hair by trusting lesbians with it after all.” His eyes twinkled like they always did, and Fitz swallowed hard to ignore the twinge in his chest.

“No problem, Keefe. Another time.” His eyes prickled as the imparter went dark.

He wondered if Keefe remembered letting Fitz place a misshapen flower crown on his head after Fitz had painstakingly done small braids in his blonde hair. He wondered if he even cared.

~Why would you ever kiss me? / I’m not even half as pretty~

Fitz breathed in the sweet smell of Panakes flowers as he held Keefe’s hand, their fingers loosely linked.

“Hey, let’s dance.” Keefe tugged him to his feet, and Fitz dragged his gaze away from the stars.

“Why?” He asked, laughing, “We don’t even know how to.”

Keefe only grinned in response, so Fitz rolled his eyes and stood, placing his right hand on Keefe’s left shoulder and blushing when his breath hitched as Keefe placed his hand fully on Fitz’s waist. His ice-blue eyes twinkled and he smirked.

“I’ve got you, Roo.” He whispered, and Fitz let his heart race as Keefe pulled them close together, chests brushing, the side of his cheek brushing against Fitz’s ear.

And they danced, swaying gently back and forth, the only music the in-sync beating of their hearts.

Eventually Keefe drew back slightly, just enough to look Fitz in his teal eyes.

“May I...?” He whispered, breath feather-soft against Fitz’s lips. Keefe’s grip tightened on his hip as Fitz nodded, and he leaned in.

The brush of his lips was like a memory, and Fitz found himself closing his eyes as his heart burst into a thousand different colours of love and wistfulness and he felt complete and shattered at the same time-

He blinked as he woke up. A tear slid down the side of his face. He shut his eyes tight, trying recapture even the slightest moment from the dream, but it was gone.

~you gave her your artwork, its just pen and paper / but you like her better / (I wish I were Foster)~

“You’ve been pretty quiet lately, Wonderboy. What’s up?” Keefe lay on the floor, legs swinging as he sketched something. Fitz looked up from his book ‘Wuthering Heights’ (a human book that so far had been nothing but depressing) and sighed.

“I haven’t been sleeping well, and I don’t know why.” Half-truth, since he really hadn’t been sleeping well, but he knew exactly why. Just like he knew Keefe probably wouldn’t push it.

Or maybe he didn’t, because the next words out of Keefe’s mouth were, “Really? There seems to be more on your mind than just that, Roy.” He looked up from the paper and blew a strand of hair from his eyes.

Fitz closed his book. Convincing Keefe was going to be harder than he had assumed.

“I guess... I don’t know. I’m just...” FUCK FUCK FUCK, WHAT SHOULD HE SAY?! 

“I’m worried about the future. I mean, how is being thrown into one of the biggest historical upheavals going to affect us? We’re just kids!! But we’re being expected to fight these people, and the adults around us don’t even help us the way we need them to?? Years from now, will it even be over? Why do WE have to be the ones to change the world? 

“They don’t give us authority, but they burden us with responsibility. Do they honestly think it won’t affect us? The world is going to hell and we’re still expected to do good in school and keep our heads down like it isn’t OUR future that’s being shitted on. Like the people who have the power to do something aren’t sitting on their ASSES doing absolutely fucking NOTHING?!

“People can make as many fucking jokes about us being lazy, when in reality we’re fucking world weary at an age where we’re not even old enough to fucking DRINK.”

Damn, maybe he was better at covering the real reason for his sleep than he thought... At least this part wasn’t a lie.

“Fuck, Fitz. That’s heavy...” Keefe rolled over and sat up, “That’s what’s going on? Fuck, if I knew that I wouldn’t have teased you about it.”

 He opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, but the words changed before they came out, “I kinda feel the same way. I just don’t know what to do about it, so I make jokes. It doesn’t always help, but at least I don’t have to face the fear that.... well, y’know.”

They sat that way for a long, silent stretch before Fitz cleared his throat.

“Whatcha, um- What are ya drawing?”

Keefe looked at Fitz’s eyes another long second before picking up the piece of paper and studying it. “It’s a drawing for Foster. It’s when we rode on Silveny to heal her abilities. I figured it’d be a good gift since I plan on... I mean, I’m gonna try to ask her out.”

Oh.

Fitz forced a smile, “It looks good,  Keefe. She’ll love it.”

“You sure?” It was one of the only times Fitz had seen Keefe nervous, and for a moment Fitz was tempted to shout ‘NO, of COURSE not’ and jump across the room before tearing it to shreds, but then he was overcome by guilt and he nodded.

“I’m absolutely sure, Keefe,” He stated, voice thick, “Cognates, remember?”

Keefe took a deep breath, “Yeah, thanks Wonderboy.” He smiled and tucked the picture into his pocket.

Fitz turned back to his book, the tears in his eyes blurring the words into a mess.

~ Oohhh, Oooohhh, wish I were Foster~

She said yes. Of course she said yes. Keefe was perfect for her, and everyone could see it.

And Fitz was happy for them -they were his two best friends!- he just. Wished that it was Fitz that Keefe had been happy with. Wished that it was him that he had loved.

[musicalluna]

panning for gold

@bardingbeedle here is your birthday fic!!!!! ily, i hope you enjoy <3

--

Tony is not a stupid man. So when Captain America asks him if he wants to “step out” with him, of course he says yes.

He’s amused because Steve plans the date and picks him up at six o’clock on the dot. His amusement must be written on his face because Steve ducks his head like he’s embarrassed and says, “Ah, I know this isn’t exactly how things are done anymore, but it took it out of me just to ask, so...”

He’s sweet, painfully so, and Tony couldn’t stop himself from smiling if he wanted to. “Hey, who’s complaining?”

Steve smiles back, his shoulders relaxing a little, sweet and appreciative. He’s really something else and if Tony’s not careful he’ll be in trouble. Steve’s a good guy—the best, really, but there’s no way Steve is interested in dating Tony long term. It’s probably not conscious, but he’s interested in the experiences Tony can provide. Fancy dinners, lavish vacations, expensive presents. Sure, maybe there’s some attraction there, some connection, they’re friends, aren’t they? But it always comes down to Tony’s money. He’s not about to hold that against Steve. They can have a little fun. “Come on,” he says, slipping his arm through Steve’s. “Take me out on the town.”

Steve beams, hand curling around Tony’s on his elbow.

–

They go to a place called “The Big Gay Ice Cream Shop” and Tony barks out a laugh. Steve smiles, glancing at him slyly out of the corner of his eye. “I thought it seemed appropriate.”

“You aren’t wrong.”

Steve holds the door open for him, which is another charming gesture. They spend a little while at the counter sampling flavors and leave twenty minutes later with waffle cones the size of their heads. Tony automatically goes for his wallet at the register, but Steve catches his hand and pushes it back into his jacket.

“My treat.”

Tony blinks, surprised. “Oh.” He shrugs after a moment and grins. “Okay, then.”

He can’t remember the last time someone paid for him for...anything. It may have never happened. He’s always been the one with more means than sense. The experience is novel and he can’t help the way it lingers in the back of his mind through the rest of the date, which is a long walk back to the Tower.

Steve is funny in the driest way and smart as hell in a way that’s unlike Tony’s own intellect, but that just makes it all the more fascinating to talk to him.

Plus, he’s gorgeous, which Tony is reminded of when they finally meander up to the Tower and into the elevator. Steve leans back against the elevator wall, hands in his pockets, his head angled toward the floor, and he smiles at Tony, looking at him through his sandy eyelashes.

It knocks Tony for a loop.

He still hasn’t quite figured out how to breathe again when Steve says in a low voice, “I had a really good time tonight, Tony. Can we do this again?”

Tony works his tongue around his mouth for a second, trying to get some moisture back into it. “Yeah,” he says faintly, “me too. This was fun. How’s, uh, next Tuesday?”

Steve glows at him. That’s the only way to describe it. Tony’s stomach swoops like he’s pushing Mach 5 in the suit. “Six?”

“Yeah,” Tony rasps.

Steve pushes off the wall as they arrive at the floor that holds his apartment and Tony feels his passing like electricity over his skin. “Okay. See you then.”

Oh, Tony thinks as the doors close, yeah, I’m in trouble.

–

“IFC is playing The Shining,” Steve says while he and Tony head downstairs on Tuesday. “I thought we could go see it?”

“You’re into horror?”

Steve shrugs. “I don’t know, but I hear it’s a classic. One of the best of all time?”

“I saw it when I was ten so I can’t comment on anything other than the fact that it scarred me.”

“You were ten?” Steve says with a look somewhere between incredulity and amused of-course-you-did, which is a look Tony is used to getting.

“Dad kept telling me I was a baby and I wanted to prove him wrong. I snuck into the theater. I couldn’t sleep for a week.”

“Well, now I’m really curious.”

“Wow, asshole,” Tony says.

Steve shrugs, hands in his pockets again. It’s like he thinks he’s too big—taking up too much room. “I keep tryin’ to tell people...”

It feels like Tony’s heart grows in his chest. God, he’s so fond of Rogers. He’s a shit.

–

Steve pays for the movie and their concessions, too.

Tony thinks about saying something, but he’s not sure what exactly he’d say. Stop it? I have money (obviously)? He can’t come up with anything that doesn’t sound ridiculous. So he just keeps his mouth shut and watches the movie.

It’s definitely not as scary as he remembers, but there are still some creepy moments. Some of it just gets him because of how much it reminds him of Howard.

When they leave the theater, Steve is in a somber mood.

“That was...interesting,” he says, obviously struggling for words. “They implied that Jack was in the hotel in the past, too.”

“Yeah.”

Steve goes quiet, mind obviously churning.

They walk in silence for nearly a block before Steve finally shakes his head. “Sorry, that was… I wasn’t expecting that.”

He’s unsettled Tony realizes. “Are you okay?”

Steve looks over at him, a flush creeping over his cheeks. “Yeah, uh,” he scrubs a hand over the back of his head. “It’s just—the way he lost control…”

“Reminds me of my dad,” Tony says, before he can think better of it and he only just manages to stifle a wince when Steve looks over at him, eyes wide.

“Howard was like that?”

“I mean he never tried to axe me, but—” Tony shakes his head, brushing that all away. “He was your friend, let’s not get into that—”

Steve grasps Tony by the wrist, bringing him to a stop on the sidewalk with barely any pressure at all. Tony gets the sudden urge to shake him off, but he mashes it down. Steve’s face is serious, tinted orange in the sodium vapor lights. “You and I are better friends than we ever were, Tony. If he ever did anything like that to you—” His mouth goes tight. “You didn’t deserve that.”

Tony stares at him, feeling strangely overwhelmed, so much so that he can’t speak. He can’t find the words for—anything.

Steve’s face softens and he puts a hand very lightly in the small of Tony’s back. “C’mon. Ice cream?”

Tony nods and lets himself be led.

–

He’s doing it deliberately, Tony realizes after they’ve gone on three more dates. On their fourth date, Tony pulls out his wallet early trying to beat Steve to the payment, but Steve says, “That’s okay, Tony. I’ve got it.”

“You’ve gotten it every time so far,” Tony says.

“Yeah,” Steve says mildly, handing over his credit card, “what’s your point? I want to.”

Tony doesn’t actually have a good argument to counter that, so he lets his hand drop. Steve smiles at him and it’s like Tony can feel the Pavlovian neuro-paths forming in his brain. Jesus, he’s a sucker. This was supposed to be a fun little fling because when you’re offered the chance to date Captain America you don’t say no, but Steve keeps asking him and Tony keeps saying yes. And Steve’s sticking around even though he’s the one paying for everything. It doesn’t track at all.

Coney Island is a blast, partly because of the attractions, but mostly because of all the stories Steve tells him about what a scrappy little cuss he was. He even tells Tony about a time when Bucky made him go on the Cyclone and he threw up and he actually manages to smile during the story. It’s the first time Tony’s heard him talk about Bucky without a thread of raw agony in his voice. It sounds stupid, but he’s honored. It’s taken the team two years to start cracking through Steve’s walls and it’s humbling to realize Steve feels like he can say these things to Tony and that it’s helping.

They stay until well after sundown and Tony can’t stop looking at Steve under the kaleidoscope of multicolored lights. He’s relaxed, happy, and it’s beautiful.

“Let’s ride the Ferris wheel,” Steve suggests, and Tony just says okay. He’d say yes to just about anything Steve suggested at this point.

It’s a warm night with a cool breeze—pretty much perfect as far as nights go. Despite the fact that the line is fairly lengthy, they end up in one of the fixed cars alone. Tony’s stomach flips when Steve sits and pulls Tony down next to him, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist. The midway is all lit up below them, backed by the beach and the dark water beyond. This is the first time Tony’s been on a Ferris wheel in years and it’s making him feel like a kid again. It’s goofy, but there’s something magic about it.

“It’s pretty amazing this is still around,” Steve says, and Tony drags his gaze away from the view. “There was a big fuss when it opened. It was called the Dip-the-Dip back then, but it was just like this.”

“People do some incredible things,” Tony says, and Steve meets his eyes.

“They sure do.”

Their car reaches the apex of the wheel and rocks slowly to a stop as the wheel pauses. The breeze is cool, blowing Tony’s hair in his eyes and he reaches up to push it back. When he can see again, Steve is close enough Tony can feel the heat of his skin against his cheek and he sucks in a breath, heart breaking into a sprint.

“Gonna kiss you now,” Steve says, voice low. Then he cups Tony’s face in both his big hands and kisses him so gently it feels like his thoughts go spiraling away on the breeze.

The blood roars in his ears and he only realizes he was holding his breath when Steve draws back and Tony sucks in a gasp, his hands clutching at Steve’s leather jacket. Steve is warm underneath it, but the lining is cool and smooth against the back of his knuckles.

Steve smiles at him, sucking Tony’s stomach right back out of his body, and then leans in again and presses another featherlight kiss to his mouth. “Been wanting to do that for weeks.”

Tony makes an inarticulate noise and shifts impossibly closer to Steve, the heat of his thigh like fire against his leg. “Well, don’t stop now,” he rasps.

Steve lights up, his eyes reflecting back all the colors of the lights as they go by, and then he’s kissing Tony again, tongue easing into Tony’s mouth and sending sparks through his scalp. He moans, blown away by how good it feels to kiss Steve. Oh, god, he’s supposed to give this up? Like hell.

–

After that he’s plunged from “getting in over his head” to “in way over his head”. He tries so goddamn hard to protect himself from the inevitable heartbreak caused by people who don’t realize they’re in love with his money and not him, but he wasn’t ready for Steve Rogers.

Steve who hasn’t let him pay for a single thing in the three months they’ve been dating. Not so much as a coffee. What is he supposed to do with that? What is Steve getting out of this if he won’t take Tony’s money?

“STOP,” Tony bursts as Steve takes the check holder, “Stop. I can’t take it anymore. What is this, the world’s longest con?”

Steve blinks at him and the waiter slowly backs away from the table and disappears. “What?” Steve finally says.

“You won’t let me pay for anything! But people date me for my money. So I don’t understand what’s going on here. Are you trying to lull me into a false sense of security? Because, if I’m being honest, I’m already fucked. I’m into you. Way into you. So even if you are, you can just cut it out. You can have whatever you want.”

Steve’s face pinches and he puts a crease in the check holder, his fingers are gripping it so hard. “No, Tony. It’s not...it’s not a con. I didn’t want you to think that I even might be interested in you for your money.”

Tony shrugs, feeling small. “Everyone is.”

“I’m not,” Steve says firmly. “And I’ll keep paying for things as long as it takes you to believe that. I don’t need or want your money. I want you.”

Tony swallows, shoulders hunching and his fingers curling reflexively when Steve reaches across the table to put his hand over Tony’s. “You’d...pay for stuff forever? Even though I can afford—basically anything?”

“I’m dating you to spend time with you, Tony, not so you can buy me things. And I don’t want you to feel like it’s unfair or I’m coddling you or something. If you want to pay for your share, that’s fine. But I don’t need you to pay for mine. And I’ll never expect you to.”

Steve really is unbelievable, Tony thinks, staring at him across the table. “You would,” he says, knowing it’s true even as he says it.

“I will,” Steve says, like a vow. A shiver goes down Tony’s spine.

He curls his fingers around Steve’s and looks down at the tabletop, flicking aside a crumb. “And what if I wanted to buy you things?”

Steve is quiet for a long moment. “We can talk about it. The idea makes me uncomfortable, I won’t lie.”

“Because you feel like you’d be taking advantage.”

Steve smiles crookedly at him. “You thought I was running a con on you.”

Tony huffs and digs his fingers into the corners of his eyes. “Okay, fair. I’ve...I’ve never dated anyone like you, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes soften into something almost like sadness. “Maybe after awhile then, Tony. We can start with splitting the bill and see from there.”

Tony nods jerkily. “Yeah. Okay.” After a beat, he blurts, “Thank you.”

Steve sighs and smiles ruefully. “You don’t have to thank me for caring about you as a person. But you’re welcome.” He kisses Tony’s knuckles and it sends a chill up Tony’s arm. “Now can I pay for dinner?”

“Please do,” Tony says, hooking his ankle around Steve’s under the table. “I’m ready to go home and give you a very...thorough thank you.” To his delight, Steve’s eyes go dark. He pulls a stack of bills out of his wallet and tosses them into the check holder without looking.

“Let’s go.”

Tony laughs all the way out of the restaurant. Maybe this is going to work out after all.

[goosemixtapes]

i had to read an infuriating post with mine own two eyes tonight so here’s a reminder from your local lesbian:

a) the idea that masculine women and/or lesbians (and particularly those of us who are both) are “pressured to transition” into men is ludicrous. i’m not saying it never happens - i don’t want to discount real people who may have had those experiences - but to act like it’s a trend is, quite frankly, stupid. masculine girls aren’t told to be men. masculine girls are told to be feminine. people who don’t want lesbians around probably don’t want trans people around either.

b) it is not easier to be trans than to be gay. i’m not saying it’s harder - i think trying to rank systems of oppression is a waste of time. that said, the idea that a gay person can “escape” homophobia by transitioning into a “straight” member of the “opposite sex” is - guess what! - also stupid! transitioning doesn’t get you away from homophobia. people will still be homophobic, because they will still see you as your assigned gender; you’ll just also get some lovely transphobia on the top! /s

c) again. let me reiterate. a butch lesbian who transitions to become a “straight man” is not going to suddenly have an easier time. certain aspects of her existence may, in fact, be easier! but other aspects will be much much harder. there’s no get-out-of-homophobia-free card, oh my god. i don’t know what fantasy world some of you are living in where everyone who hates gay people is magically fine with trans people? if people don’t like you being gay, they PROBABLY aren’t going to like you being trans either!

d) lesbians can and do, and have been doing and will continue to do, “transition.” transition is in quotes here because i don’t mean “become men.” i mean that lesbians can do things like take testosterone and get top surgery and use pronouns other than she/her without thinking of themselves as men, and while continuing to think of themselves as lesbians. read stone butch blues. this Just Happens. it’s just another way of exhibiting gender nonconformity! if your stance is “wait lesbians can’t do that” i’m sorry because we literally are it Just Happens

d1) this includes trans women. trans lesbians can also be nonbinary and/or use pronouns other than she/her and do basically anything afab lesbians can. this isn’t my main point, and i’m hesitant to expand because i am not affected by transmisogyny and don’t want to overstep. this post is focused on afab people because it’s drawn from my personal experience, but it’s important to me that y’all know that trans women are not excluded from this narrative.

d2) this isn’t limited to lesbians, either. bi women, for example, also have complex and personal relationships with gender. again, this post is drawn from my own experiences and i am hesitant to expand re: bi women because i know less about their personal experiences. but they are not excluded from this either.

e) HOWEVER. any and all lesbians who “transition” in this way, so long as they still identify as lesbians, ARE STILL LESBIANS. men cannot be lesbians. this means trans men cannot be lesbians. but lesbians who use he/him pronouns or do any of the other things i mentioned are NOT MEN if they don’t identify as men. trans men and he/him lesbians in particular get conflated a lot - but we aren’t the same! we are not the same; he/him lesbians aren’t trying to imply that all trans men are secretly women/lesbians, nor are they trying to imply that men can be lesbians, because lesbians who do these things are not men.

f) why might lesbians “transition” in this way, then, if they aren’t men? well quite frankly it’s none of your business. but generally it’s very simple: because using different pronouns, or going on testosterone, or having top surgery, or etc etc, makes them more comfortable. lesbianism, and butch lesbianism in specific, is deeply about gender nonconformity. saying that you can’t be a lesbian and do any of the things i’ve been listing doesn’t make sense - where do you draw the line? at what point are you trying to define where someone is “too masculine to be a lesbian?” and why do you feel the need to do that?

g) “but are lesbians doing this because of internalized and external misogyny?” look. i won’t lie. it’s POSSIBLE. misogyny is a hell of a drug. but 1) doing these things won’t let you escape misogyny just like it won’t let you escape homophobia; we’ve been over this and 2) the process of questioning your gender is a deeply convoluted and often torturous thing and i can almost guarantee to you that if you’re thinking “is this person really trans/nonbinary/etc or are they just suffering from internalized misogyny?” that that person has probably also had that conversation with themself a thousand times. i don’t think some of y’all realize how long and gnarly questioning can be. we cover our bases, guys. we examine the nuances. transitioning isn’t a snap decision.

g.5) questioning is not always long and gnarly. if your questioning process was very short, hey, good for you! i’m not trying to invalidate your experiences. i’m just saying that It Can Be and It Often Is.

h) certain celebrities who have recently come out have not, to my knowledge, even specified that they no longer identify as a lesbian, despite, for example, using he/him or they/them pronouns. as we’ve been over, these things can coexist. so saying shit like “it’s so tragic that lesbophobia made so-and-so transition” is not only repulsive and disgusting, it’s also completely unfounded!

h.5) that said, even IF certain celebrities who have recently come out no longer identify as a lesbian - okay! so what! lesbians aren’t an endangered species being encroached upon by The Evil Transes. again: we’ve been over this. lesbians and trans men can and do coexist. if someone who formerly identified as a lesbian says they are a trans man, it’s probably because they are. there is not a shortage of lesbians in the world. we are not flocking en masse to transmanhood.

i) if your hot take is “i feel sorry for the lesbian partner of this former lesbian icon who is now transitioning because the Lesbophobes and Misogynists and Evil Trans Rights Activists ganged up on their spouse to make them transition,” i kindly invite you to ~block me~

source: i’m literally a lesbian. and also one of those lesbians who does transitional activities. and also a person with critical thinking skills

[fandomtransmandom]

2020 Wrapped:

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5-8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

Okay, so as you know, ya boi is verbose af, so apologies, but I could only whittle it down to a top 10 (and one honorable mention.) I like to think my work has improved with time, so the older ones may be a bit rough, but here are my favs from 2020 and why (from most recent to oldest.)  

1.) Southern Comfort-Bill Hader, Teddy Redbones (Doc Now)/OFC

Synopsis: Teddy Redbones viciously despises his political opponent Savannah Harrison...by day. At night, the two tear into each other madly, hiding their secret affair from the world and their feelings from one another.

Why I Love: Honestly when @martymcdie88mph sent me a request that just asked for ‘Teddy Redbones laying down pipe’ I never expected the first fic about him to get the response it did, much less for it to lead to two more requests. It’s provided me with immeasurable laughter and I’m so glad there are others out there down to bone this angry southern dom.

2.) Frozen Dreams-Conan O’Brien/OFC

Synopsis: Receiving bad news while on their Christmas vacation at the height of ‘The Tonight Show’ upset, Conan deals with his grief, assisted by his partner, Molly.

Why I Love: Writing some Conan super angst was so cathartic and beautiful. Thank you @stunninconan for making this request and giving me the opportunity to do so. Just want to cherish our ginger smokeshow and let him know how deeply he’s loved.

3.) Flickering Beauty-Bill Hader, Little Vivvy (Doc Now)/Partners of Multiple Genders

Synopsis: Little Vivvy is away from her family, and her wealth, for the first time in 1970’s New York. As she tries to make it as a dancer, Vivvy undergoes the early stages of her transition and stumbles upon the accepting Ball scene, as well as some struggles of being a trans woman trying to live an authentic life.

Why I Love: I wrote this piece for NaNoWriMo 2020 and I knew going into it I would largely be composing it for myself. Beforehand I considered doing something that might draw in more readers, Reddie perhaps, but I'm so glad I went with my heart because this story is incredibly meaningful to me and I will love Vivvy until the end of my days.

4.) Breathe Me-Bill Hader, Barry/OFC

Synopsis: Barry is back in Cleveland after his discharge, working for Fuches, deeply depressed and feeling hopeless. After running into his childhood friend Annie, he discovers she’s doing sex work and offers to help her financially. But Annie refuses, saying there’s only one way she’ll accept payment from Barry.

Why I Love: One of many ideas I’ve worked on this year with @martymcdie88mph, though arguably our best. I received a lot of positive feedback on this piece that made me feel good about myself, and I simply love the dynamic between these two hurting characters.

5.) Lost and Found-Bill Hader, Reddie

Synopsis: When Richie loses the engagement ring he bought for Eddie, he panics, searching everywhere but finding nothing. Coming across the ring while cleaning, Eddie devises a plan to surprise Richie.

Why I Love: This one was based on a prompt from @halefirewarrior and I just think it’s cute and sweet. And it’s resulted in a dozen or so strangers on the internet telling me to ‘shut the fuck up,’ which is always amusing.

6.) Harmonious Monsters-Bill Hader, Vince Blight/OFC

Synopsis: Sociopathic power couple Vince and Stacy Blight live a hedonistic, extravagant existence based on kinky sex and a mutual disregard for humanity. As their ten year anniversary approaches, Vince reflects on the saga of their relationship.

Why I Love: Pretty sure this one appeals just to me, ha. I had a ball writing it. Getting into the heads of these characters was ridiculously fun and smut-wise it includes some of my favorite things.

7.) In The Midnight Hour-Bill Hader RPF, Priest AU

Synopsis: When Father Bill Hader sees a struggling trans man named Troy attending the weekly free meal offered by the church, he discovers Troy is homeless, offering him a place to stay in the basement. As they get to know one another, Troy tempts Bill and tests his faith in ways he never thought possible.

Why I Love: Writing this one for @phantomofthegallifreyanopera was cathartic for me. As a queer trans man who was trapped in a fundamental Christian community for a time, it felt like sweet vengeance to be able to flex my Biblical Studies degree for the sake of gay p*rn (trust me, it’s completely useless otherwise) and it was fun to see Father Bill teased into sin 😈

8.) Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger-Bill Hader, The Alan (SNL)/OFC

Synopsis: When Lily comes home to find The Alan on her doorstep, she can’t imagine why her friend got her such a silly, extravagant gift. That is, until she discovers the Adult Expansion Pack.

Why I Love: I was nervous about publishing this one and almost didn’t. I truly didn’t think y’all would be on board. But thank fuck everyone in this fandom is kinky as shit and this became one of the fics for which I get praised the most. I loved writing it and I’m so here for cranking out more weird shit all day every day.

9.) If The World Was Ending-Bill Hader, Barry/OFC

Synopsis: Barry knows that tomorrow he is likely to die, the Chechens seeking vengeance for the massacre at the monastery. For his last night, he wants nothing more than to spend it with Valerie. The problem: Valerie and Barry broke up months before when she discovered his true profession. Barry begs Valerie to see him, and for one final time, he finds solace in her arms.

Why I Love: When @erdankely gave me their concept for this request, I was unreasonably excited. So damn cool. And I just sobbed while I wrote it. Such a sl*t for Barry super angst any day of the week. Love this one and I’m pretty proud of how it turned out, actually.

10.) Miles Apart Inside-Bill Hader, Robbie Wheadlan (Doc Now)/OFC

Synopsis: While he’s awaiting trial for murder, Robbie Wheadlan and his lover Abbi reflect on the saga of their relationship.

Why I Love: Not only was this a piece that made me fall hardcore in love with a murderer who was on screen for maybe 15 minutes and has no redeemable attributes, but it strengthened my friendship with @stunninconan and for that I am grateful.

Honorable Mention: Later That Night- Conan O’Brien/OFC

Synopsis: Conan meets author Gwendolyn who comes on his show to promote her book.

Why I Love: This is the first fic I published back in July. I’m sure I would cringe like crazy if I tried to read it now at all the edits it needs, but I’m so, so happy I decided to post it and kept writing and sharing. Without this almost 48k monster about my orange pompadoured beloved and all the kind feedback from everyone, I wouldn’t be where I am today. Thank you all!

And I spend my days doing nothing other than hammering out alphabet p*rn of my own, so I apologize that I don't know who to tag to keep this going because I shamefully never take time to read. But feel free to do your own if you have creations you would like to share!i

[galaxymysteryelephant]

The Start of Something New

The first chapter is also available on ao3 here.

Part one

---

“Anakin, I am going to put on some tea. Would you like a cup?” Ben asks his brother.

“No, I am alright. Thanks anyways,” Anakin shouts from the living room of Ben’s apartment. “What kind of movie are you feeling this afternoon? Action or comedy?”

“Action, I guess,” Ben answers as he puts the kettle onto the stove.

The ringing of a phone draws Ben’s attention away from prepping his tea. The caller ID on the phone almost makes his heart stop.

Shit. Rex is calling me. I told him to only call me if he wanted to cancel. Is he going to cancel the date altogether or want to reschedule?

The ringing stops. Silence fills the space for a minute before Ben's phone starts ringing again. And without looking at the caller ID, Ben knows it is Rex.

Why couldn't he just text me? Doesn't he know it is easier to deal with rejection when you cannot hear the other person's voice?

“Would you answer your phone, Ben?” Anakin shouts.

Ben pulls himself from his panicked state of mind to answer the phone. The only way to know why he is calling is to talk to him.

“Hello,” Ben answers the phone.

“Hey Ben,” Rex says. “I woke up a while ago and I realized I forgot to ask you if you had any food allergies that I need to know about.”

Ben releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He didn’t call to cancel. He just wants to know if I have allergies. What a relief.

“None that I am aware of,” Ben answers.

“Why do you sound all panicked?” Rex asks.

“I do not,” Ben states.

“Did you forget that I work as a firefighter? I can tell when someone is panicked, it is all about the inflection in their voice. You have that inflection. So, what has got you panicked?” Rex asks.

“I thought you were calling to cancel or reschedule,” Ben admits.

The kettle boils to a whistle signalling that his water is ready. Ben makes his way over to the stove to get it but Anakin waves him off. Ben watches as his brother pours the water into a mug with a tea bag and sets it on the counter to steep. “Who is on the phone?” Anakin mouths. Ben ignores him in favor of talking to Rex.

“You really think I would have called to cancel or reschedule?” Rex asks a hurt tone in his voice.

“Well, I hoped not. But what else was I to think when we agreed that you would call only if you were not feeling up to hosting.”

Rex laughs and Ben can hear the warmth in his tone through the speaker. “I see. I apologize for causing you panic then. But just know that I wouldn’t dream of cancelling tonight.”

“And why is that?” Ben asks.

“Because I have been trying to get a date with you for a long time now.”

“Will you be up for entertaining tonight?” Ben looks at his watch and catches that it is 2:30pm. “It has only been about four hours. Are you sure you got enough sleep?”

“Yeah, I am fine. Trust me when I say that four hours is a good night sleep for me,” Rex states. He is quiet on the other line of the phone for a moment. “What would you like for dinner?”

“What were you planning on making me?” Ben asks in lieu of answering the question.

“I was thinking of doing a Maori boil-up.”

“What is that?” Ben asks curiously.

“It is when you boil meat and vegetables together in a large pot of water. You can use any kind of meat, but I was thinking of doing chicken. I mean, who doesn’t like chicken?” There is a pause as Rex waits for Ben to voice his dissent. When he doesn't Rex continues, “For the vegetables I was thinking watercress, potatoes, carrots, cabbage, and kumara.”

“Kumara?” Ben asks, unfamiliar with the vegetable name Rex used.

“Oh, sweet potatoes,” Rex answers. “Does that sound of interest to you? If not, I can make something else.”

“That sounds perfect,” Ben answers. “Are you positive you do not want me to bring dessert?”

“Yah nah,” Rex replies. Before Ben can ask what that means, Rex’s smooth voice comes over his speaker. “I was going to make pavlova; it is a meringue filled with whipped cream and fruit.”

“That sounds delicious,” Ben states. He can already feel his mouth watering. “I cannot wait,” he admits after a moment.

“Neither can I,” Rex states. “I guess I should let you go. I need to make a quick run to the store to get some things, anyways. I will see you tonight.”

“I will see you at 6,” Ben says. He hangs up the phone and has a huge smile across his face.

“Who was that on the phone?” Anakin asks his brother. Anakin is leaning against the kitchen counter and leveling his brother with a stare.

“A guy I have a date with tonight,” Ben answers as he grabs his mug of tea and takes it to the living room with his brother on his heels.

“You are going on a date, like an actual date?” Anakin asks disbelievingly as he takes a seat on the couch.

“We are having dinner at his apartment. And I am pretty sure we are just going to hang out.” Ben takes a seat next to Anakin and catches the look of disappointment on his brother's face. “What?”

“You are going to his apartment?”

“Yeah,” Ben states.

“How well do you know this guy?”

“I have known him for a while now,” Ben states.

It isn’t really a lie but it isn’t the whole truth either. Ben has been frequenting the cafe that Rex’s runs with his brother for quite some time now but he actually doesn’t know much about the man himself. All Ben knows is what he learned earlier that morning: Rex is a firefighter; works at the coffee shop with his brother; is gay; and has never been in a relationship because he puts his work first.

Does that mean that Rex has not had any casual relationships? Is he a virgin?

“If you have known him for a while now, how come this is the first time I am hearing about him?” Anakin questions.

“This is the first time he asked me out,” Ben states matter of factly.

“Have I met him?” Anakin questions.

“I don’t know,” Ben answers truthfully.

“Can I have a name?”

“No,” Ben replies.

“Why?”

“Because I know that when I do give it to you, you will do a background check on him.”

“And what is wrong with that?” Anakin asks. “Is it too bad to want to know what kind of person my brother is dating?”

“No, I know you are just looking out for me. But sometimes you take it too far.”

“What do you mean?”

“There was that one girl that I was seeing who claimed you harassed her through social media. And that is just one of many examples.”

“I wasn’t harassing her, I was just asking her questions,” Anakin retorts. “There is a difference.”

“Either way, you made her uncomfortable.” Ben looks to his younger brother and gives him a smile. “I don’t want you to scare this guy away. He is very nice and is the first person that I can actually see a future with. Please do not ruin this for me.”

“Alright,” Anakin agrees. Several moments of silence pass between the brothers before Anakin admits, “I still do not agree with you having a first date at his place.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you don’t really know him. What if he is a serial killer? Or a rapist?”

“I am pretty sure he is neither of those things, Anakin.”

“You aren’t really making me feel any better. There is a difference between pretty sure and definitely sure.” Anakin levels his brother with a glare, “And I need you to be definitely sure.”

“Anakin, I am positive that he is not a serial killer or a rapist. He is far too nice for that.”

“Still worried. And you do know that being far too nice isn’t a good thing, right? It means he is hiding something.”

“You are overreacting, Anakin. He is a nice man and has a kind heart.”

“If he is so nice, why was he insistent that the first date take place in his apartment?”

“He was overworked and exhausted when I saw him earlier. He wants to be comfortable in case he falls asleep while we are hanging out,” Ben answers.

“You do know that more effort probably goes into having someone over than it does going out, right? I mean, he needs to clean his place and make dinner. If he was truly exhausted he wouldn’t be up for hosting. It is kind of suspicious to me.”

Ben averts his gaze from his brother and stares out the window.

I wasn’t thinking about any of that. I was just too excited at the prospect of going on a date with Rex that I didn’t take his exhaustion into account. I was the one who was insistent that we hang out tonight, and he was just too polite to turn me down.

Did I make more work for him by agreeing to go over his place? I mean, he wouldn’t have offered to have me over if it was going to be too much for him, would he?

Ben looks at his brother, “You may have a point on that,” he admits quietly. “But I think he just wants to have a quiet evening in, where we can talk uninterrupted.”

“Just be careful, Ben.”

“Always, dear brother. But I can assure you no harm will befall me.”

“Alright,” Anakin relents. A moment of silence passes between them before Anakin asks, “Do you still want to watch a movie? Or do you want to get ready for your date?”

“We can watch a movie, Anakin,” Ben states.

[thewildomega]

Star in the Sand Ch.13

Growling under your breath you thump your head back against the side of the building, the lewd noises from inside only fueling your anger. "Fifteen minutes my ass." you grumbled under your breath. "And how much for you doll?"

Snapping your eyes open you looked towards the man standing in front of you with a disgusting smirk on his face. Before you had time to even answer his question or tell him to fuck off his hand was touching your inner thigh, trying to push under your dress. Slapping him you grit your teeth. "I am not for sale." you snarled. Having enough of this shit you grabbed your bag and stomped off down the busy street. It had not been a good day, Crocodile had been gone since last night, telling you he and the majority of the crew had a big heist they had to do on the other side of the island. Leaving you in the care of some of the lesser crew he had asked you to stay by Horx. Horx, a newer crew member who up until this point had seemed like an alright guy, that was until this afternoon. After following you around all day he had begun to get a little restless. Not that you blamed the guy, he was spending his downtime having to babysit you, you would be mad too, especially if the woman was as cranky as you. In your difference you didn't like having to be babysat. So stupidly you had asked him if there was anywhere he would like to go. Foolishly you had thought he may ask to go to a bar or a weapon shop but no, he had wanted to go to a brothel. OF ALL FUCKING PLACES! You should have known, really you should have. Being promised that it would only be fifteen minutes tops you had agreed and reluctantly took a seat outside of the establishment while he did his thing but after two damn hours you had lost it. It as nearing dark and all that seemed to be about now were the rougher folk. Sighing you continued walking, looking over this and that. There were plenty of shops and such but you still felt off about spending money that Crocodile gave you on anything other than food. Even then the food you did buy was not the fancy type. What you needed was a way to make some money and blow off some steam. Biting your bottom lip you looked around until you caught sight of a bar with a sign overhead reading 'Pool hall' Humming you grinned, that you could work with.

..................................

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST HER!?" he roared making the man in front of him shake in terror. "Well I... She..." Waving his hand through the air he sent the man flying with a wall of sand before he was heading out in search of her... again. He was beginning to think he would be better off locking her in their room while he was gone. It was the middle of the night where the hell would she be? The plan had been to leave tomorrow but there had been a bit of a problem in the heist and they now had to leave tonight. Telling Daz and Hex to find the rest of the crew and get them back on ship and ready to leave he went in search of his woman. "Hahaha... that doe got you good!" "Shut it!" "And you thought she was just a pretty face. Haha, girl hustled you!" Narrowing his eyes at the men's conversation he looked towards them and saw them coming from the direction of the bar. Walking that way he saw the older man looking to be closing up for the night, "Rather early to be calling it a night, is it not?" he asked. Huffing he clicked the lock on the door and turned to look towards the man, having to crane his neck to meet his eyes. "Yea well ain't got any business since that woman went and took everyone's money." "Oh?" "Some broad from outta town.. came in and managed to hustle all of my regulars out of all their money." he told the man. Humming he raised a brow, "She sounds rather interesting, would have enjoyed a game with her myself." Huffing he pocketed his keys and pointed left, "Yeah well I am sure she would be more than happy to drain you dry, she went that way, got hair as red as fire, ya can't miss her. Best luck to ya son." Having to hold in his chuckle at the irony when the man said something about her draining him dry he nodded his head and went the way he said. Following the trail he saw most of the other places shutting down for the night as well, only a few other bars and restaurants left open. As the village came to an end he still hadn't found her and he doubted she had went into any of the other places. Glancing up at the sky he saw the moon was full and the stars shining brightly, although there were storm clouds a ways away. He would need to find her, listening he heard the sound of a waterfall and grinned, his would bet money that's where his little star was. Getting to the hidden spring he looked out and saw her bag sitting by a large bolder but he didn't see her. Furrowing his brows he walked over to it, noticing her sundress and a bottle of whiskey there as well. Snapping his eyes up he looked along the rocky shore for her, about to call her name before he looked out to the water. Slowly walking over to water's edge he stared at her, captivated by the way the moonlight shone over her skin. She was standing there, the water coming up to her waist with her back to him. Her wet hair flowed down her back and he couldn't help but swallow at the knowledge that she was in nothing but her underwear. An idea was floating around in his head but he was hesitant. Tilting his jaw he looked again towards the woman, his woman and felt his heart thump in his chest. The hell with it. Kicking off his shoes and pulling off his socks he quickly undressed, leaving on nothing but his pants. Unzipping her bag he moved to put his hook inside and felt his brows raise when he saw the money and treasure inside. She really had hustle those men out of their money. Dropping it inside he zipped it back shut and quietly made his way out to the water's edge. Looking out he saw her still standing here, looking up at the night sky. He could hear a light singing from her, drawing him to her. Staring up at the stars in contentment, you skimmed your hands across the surface of the water. The only other sound coming from the waterfall a little ways away as you sang. "Upon one summer's morning I carefully did stray Down by the walls of wapping Where I met a sailor gay Conversing with a young lass Who seem'd to be in pain Saying, William, when you go I fear you'll ne'er return again My heart is pierced by Cupid I disdain all the glittering gold There is nothing can console me But my jolly sailor bold His hair it hangs in ringlet His eyes as black as coal My happiness attend him Where ever he may go..." Feeling little ripples hit against your back you felt the corners of your lips tug upwards. "Don't even think about it." Dropping his shoulders he lowered his brows, slightly disappointed he couldn't sneak up on her. Wrapping his left arm around her body he pulled her back flush to his chest and lifted her chin with his hand. Craning your neck to look up into his eyes you gave him a soft smile. "Well look at you being all brave and coming into the water." you giggled. Huffing he rolled his eyes but grinned. "Perhaps you are to blame, a beautiful siren luring this innocent sailor into the water to drown him." Giggling you looked up at him. "I'd say you were a far cry from an innocent sailor." Chuckling deeply he stroked her cheek with his thumb as he leaned down to kiss her, smelling the alcohol on her. Pulling away he looked into her soft eyes and rose his chin a bit, "You disobeyed me..." Groaning you moved out of his arms and started walking out to the deeper water. "As you can see nothing happened to me..." Following after her he watched the water start rising up her body. "This time. I asked you to stay by Horx and you didn't." "Well I  didn't exactly want to sit outside of the brothel all day." you grunted, going under the water before he could grab you. Sighing as she went under the water he stood now chest deep in the water, trying to figure out where she was. Feeling a splash he stiffened as the right side of his face and hair was soaked with water. Snapping his eyes that way he just did see her go under again. Narrowing his eyes he looked all around but didn't see her, just how long could she hold her breath? "Y/n..." Turning around in a circle he was again hit by a large splash of water. Growling he wiped the water from his face, pushing his now wet hair back. Looking in front of him he saw her there. Only her eyes and the top of her head was above the water's surface and he narrowed his eyes at the mischief in them. Lifting his finger he curled it, beckoning her to him but she quickly shook her head. Slowly walking towards her he quickly realized that the water was over her head, it coming up to the top of his chest. She didn't try to swim away as he neared her, perhaps she was giving in to him. Reaching out to pull her to him, he went to give a victorious smirk when she spit a mouthful of water in his face.

Laughing for a moment you wiggled your arms and legs to keep you afloat but when you were suddenly yanked into his massive body and looked up to see two angry eyes glaring down at you you stiffened, your laughter leaving you. "You think that's funny, how old are you?" Growling, he glared down at her, water dripping from his brow. When he saw those two sea blue eyes looking up at him with a mixture of fear and hurt in them he froze, realization coming over him. Before he could say anything she dropped her eyes and apologized to him in a soft whisper. Easily moving out of his hold you moved back to the shore, feeling a knot in your chest. Stupid! Childish! Idiot! He didn't want to play with you! You knew he didn't like water. You ruin everything... Biting your lip to keep it from trembling you felt the bottom and started walking towards your clothes. Fucking moron! She was trying to play with you... you know like normal couples did! Watching her swim towards the shore he felt a clenching in his chest, she didn't look back at him as she walked up the shore and towards their clothes. Glancing down to her black panty clad ass he felt only a small spark of arousal but it was quickly overrun by guilt. He had upset her, the slight curl of her shoulders telling him as much. Slowly moving towards the shore he watched as she pulled on her sundress. "Y/n..."

Pulling your wet hair out of the neckline of the dress you swallowed hard and brushed away the single tear that fell from your eye. "I'm sorry... it won't happen again." you said without looking back at him, not wanting to embarrass yourself more than you already had. Closing your eyes and taking a breath you grabbed his clothes and turned back towards him, holding them out for him to take but keeping your eyes down as shame ate at you.

Looking down he reached out for his clothes but furrowed his brows, "You do not want to swim anymore?" he asked even though he already knew the answer, he had ruined any chance of her happiness tonight.

Shaking your head you licked your lips and went to answer but a loud rumble of thunder startled you. Looking up at the sky you saw a storm coming and then felt Crocodile take his clothing from your hands.

It got here faster than he thought it would, it was true what they said about weather in the New World. Pulling on his shirt and vest he reached for his hook, feeling something he looked down and saw y/n making quick work of buttoning his shirt and vest for him, although her eyes still wouldn't lift to his. A close strike of lightning made him shove his feet in his shoes, y/n grabbing his socks and scarf to shove in her bag.

Holding out his coat for him you felt sheets of rain start pouring down on the both of you. Your shoulders curled inward on their own, the rain cold and sharp on your bare shoulders and arms.

Wrapping his coat around her he grabbed her bag with his hook and her hand with his before pulling her towards the docks.

Getting back to the ship Crocodile quickly told you to go inside the cabin while he went about giving orders to set sail. After everything that had just happened you had obeyed without question, not wanting to anger him anymore than you already had. Placing your bag on the floor you hung up his wet coat to dry before grabbing your pajamas and heading to the bathroom to change. Once you were in bed you stared at the wall, thinking about what had happened at the spring. You had been such an idiot, just because you saw couples do that in movies didn't mean it would be okay in real life... especially not when your other half hated water. Besides that Crocodile was a serious man, he wouldn't want to play with you. Feeling like a fool you sighed heavily, curling up in a ball you closed your eyes.  

.........................................

Waking up with a start you panted for air, your heart hammering against your ribs. Thunder boomed outside in the distance, the ship rocked a bit more than normal as the storm created waves that crashed against the ship. Staring up at the darkness and then over to where you knew Crocodile slept beside you you listened to his deep breathing, trying to match your own to it. When a flash of lightning filled the room with a quick light you screamed when you saw it wasn't him laying beside you but Don, a pair of scissors impaled in his chest.

"Hey there sugar.."

Snapping your eyes open for real this time you trembled, it felt like you couldn't get enough air. You needed to get away. Crawling down the bed you almost stumbled over the covers that were wrapped around your legs. Moving towards the door you were caught off guard by something gabbing your wrist. Gasping you swung your other hand through the air, your fight or flight kicking in. Y/n?" he said in a deep voice laced with sleep when he felt a movement and then heard someone walking across the room. Pushing himself up from bed he looked out and saw the shadow of her going towards the door. Calling out for her again she didn't stop and he knew she was in that daze like he had seen her in before. Moving after her he reached out and grabbed her wrist but felt her tense, felt her body move. The sudden light from the lightning in the distance filled the room with a light for just a second, showing her closed fist coming towards him. Quickly catching her hand as she made to hit him he quickly wrapped his left arm around her small body and pulled her flush to his chest. "Y/n!" he said in a deep voice. Snapping out of your mind, your breath caught in your throat. Your right hand was held in his while his left arm was wrapped around you, holding you tightly to his chest. Looking up at him in shock, a strike of lightning showing his silver eyes looking down at you in concern. Your heart was still pounding, your breathing erratic and your body trembling. "C..croc...", your lips and throat incredibly dry, making your voice come out as a cracking whisper. Hearing how broken she sounded he furrowed his brows. He could feel her tiny body trembling, feel her heartbeat against his own chest. Crouching down he moved his arm under her bottom and lifted her up to carry her back to their bed. Being that the bed was in the corner of the room and he slept on the outside endge it meant that whenever she went to get up he knew. Stiffening you looked to the door and opened your mouth, "I... outside..sssoo...You...sleep.." "No." "... " "I will not allow you to deal with these fears on your own." Sitting on the bed he moved the pillow and laid down, moving her so she laid curled up in his side, their bodies still close. Pulling the duvet over them he moved his hand to her hip and started rubbing up and down her side. "What happened?" he asked, his voice low. When she didn't answer right away he dipped his chin, "Y/n." he said, his voice deep. Closing your eyes you nuzzled you face into his chest, desperate for his comfort. "You were him, Don." Gritting his teeth he continued moving his hand, up and down her side, feeling her silk nightshirt under his fingers. "He's not here darling, only me. No one is going to hurt you my little star." he told her in a deep, low voice. Bending down he kissed her head, feeling her burrow herself deeper into his chest and her fingers grip at his side. He could feel her still shaking as her past terrorized her, she was not going to be able to just drift back to sleep. He knew she would normally go outside, sit alone with her dreams plaguing her until she was so exhausted she could finally go back to sleep, either that or it was morning. It was no surprise that she was lacking sleep after some rather rough nights when he had been living with her. What she needed was a distraction. Rubbing his hand down to her hip he pushed his fingers under her night shirt, slowly rubbing his hand up the smooth skin of her back. When you felt his warm hand rub your bare back you sucked in a breath. He went slow, his hand never once rounding to touch your breast. Having snapped your eyes open when he first touched you you slowly felt them close again, your breathing evening out. His left arm was still wrapped around your body, holding you to him and making you feel safe. Focusing on his hand and the sound of his heartbeat you sighed. It took a little while but soon enough he felt her body relax into his, felt her deep breaths fan out over his chest. Adjusting himself a little to get comfortable he used his sand to move one of the pillows against the wall on her side of the bed behind her back, keeping her close to him. Kissing the top of her head he let his hand come to a stop between her shoulder blades and thought back at what happened earlier tonight.

He had screwed up, horribly. She had been happy, laughing and attempting to enjoy their time alone off ship. To simply play with him. But what does he do, he scolds her for it, ridiculous her for not acting her age, for not being some stick in the mud like him. Fucking idiot! While no he didn't care for water and he was rather irritated by everything else that was no reason to loose his temper with her. The look in her eyes, he had watched the joy fade from them when he snapped at her. He had discovered that his y/n was quick to discourage when it came to him. He didn't quite know why yet but she took all of his reactions to heart. Just the other day he had carelessly mentioned that he didn't much care for the rose scented soap she had picked out, the next time he went into the bathroom he saw it gone. A song she listened to on occasion that he found annoying, never to be heard again. Now it worried him that he he may have ruined any chance of her attempting to play with him in the future. The idea of playing around with someone had never crossed his mind before now. Before Y/n all of his relationships had been strictly business, they were simply there for his entertainment which consisted of nothing but sex or to accompany him to an event. Now though he wanted more, he wanted a real relationship with her, one that included all of those things he had previously thought childish and pointless. His y/n was a kind hearted woman who loved to smile and enjoy life itself. It was those characteristics that he loved about her and he would not deprive her of those things. No, for her and only her he would learn to let go. Kissing the top of her head in a silent promise to do better, he closed his eyes and joined her in sleep.

...................................

"Come on Daz please?" you asked, giving the ever serious man your best puppy dog eyes.

"No." he answered.

"Why not?"

"Because I intend to keep my head attached to my body as long as possible and if you so much as get a scratch on you he will show no mercy to the person responsible."

Letting out a long sigh you dropped your cheek to your palm and looked out over the deck.

"You could ask him to teach you, he does know how." Daz suggested, adjusting the fishing rod he was holding.

Biting your lip you looked down.

Glancing her way he saw the woman had her brows furrowed, "Are you afraid of him?" he asked.

Snapping your eyes up you quickly shook your head, "No, NO of course not it's just... well I just don't want to bother him or seem needy."

Humming he looked back out to the sea, "Crocodile is a difficult man and very set in his ways but I can assure you that you will never seem needy to him. He is your soulmate, he will do anything in his power to make you happy or give you whatever you desire."

Thinking on Daz's words for a moment you took a deep breath before nodded, "Thank you Daz." Seeing him nod you stood from the railing and headed up to you and Crocodile's shared room. Opening the door you saw him sitting at his desk looking over the paper. Smoke floated above him, he was smoking, that means he was relaxing, maybe you should come back later...

"Something bothering you darling?" he asked, his voice low and deep.

Licking your lips you moved over to him, rounding the desk and watching as his eyes drifted to you, "I want to talk to you about something."

She was nervous, he could hear it in her voice. Seeing her look down he dropped the paper to the desk and used his sand to bring her closer to him. As soon as she was in arm's reach he wrapped his arm around her and lifted her up and over the arm of his chair, sitting her in his lap.

Being sat in his lap you felt your neck and face heat up, you had never sat in his lap before. Feeling him gently adjust your legs with his hook to lay them over his lap before resting the arm on your thighs, you looked up to him, noticing how even sitting in his lap you were still not eye level with him. He looked calm, the cigar hanging lazily from his lips and his silver eyes staring down at you fondly.

"What is it you would like to talk about dear." He asked, enjoying the closeness. Since the incident at the spring she hadn't made a move to touch him, his previous thoughts correct. That had been three days ago and he was feeling rather touch starved, their intimacy to begin with nothing more than light kissing and touching.

Thinking about how to ask you finally decided to make it quick, like a band-aid. "I want to learn how to fight... I want you to teach me how to protect myself and be useful. I don't want to be a liability or some damsel in distress for you and the rest of the crew to have to worry about."

Out of everything she could have wanted to talk about that had not been what he was expecting. Laying his head back against the chair he took a long drag from his cigar and twirled her hair around his finger. "You have been thinking this over for some time." he stated. When she nodded he hummed, it would help ease his worry if he knew she could better protect herself if he wasn't there. "Alright..." he said and saw her smile, "On two conditions..." he added and saw her look to him.Removing his cigar he placed it in the ashtray. "One, You will obey me, if I say that's enough or I tell you to do something you do it. I will not have you getting hurt or putting yourself in danger do you understand me?" he asked and saw her nod. "Words darling."

Sighing you looked up into his eyes, "Yes Captain." you said in a sweet, innocent voice.

Narrowing his eyes he felt a warmth settle in his lower abdomen but said nothing. "Two, you will not hold anything against me, I can promise you I will not be the kindest teacher but I do not want you thinking ill of me."

Grinning you leaned against him, laying your head on his chest and looking up at him, "I promise I will still cuddle up to you at night and let you rub out any soreness you cause." you said.

Chuckling at her returning playfulness he wrapped his arm around her and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. "Three.."

"You said two..."

"I'm adding another, pros to being the captain...You will allow me to take you out on a date when we arrive at the next island." he said, his voice deeper than it was before.

Smiling you looked into his eyes and nodded, "Deal." you said before you pushed your lips to his.

Shocked that she had kissed him and not the other way around as it normally was it took him a few seconds to process the situation. Once he had he closed his eyes and held the side of her face in his hand as he kissed her back. Pushing his left arm up to her hip he pulled her a little closer to him, turning her to face him a bit more so he could better touch her with his hand. At first they did nothing but pepper each other with small pecks but after a minute he dipped his head more and slowly attempted to deepen their kiss. Gently pulling down on her chin with his thumb he flicked his tongue out to tease her bottom lip, silently asking permission. She seemed hesitant at first and he was about to pull away when he felt her lips part, granting him the access he so desired. Keeping his pace slow so he wouldn't overwhelm her he rolled his tongue into her mouth. It took everything he had not to plunge his tongue straight down her throat but he kept a gentle approach the only sign of his primal needs being the deep growl that left his throat when he finally tasted her.

It came as no surprise to you that his tongue would be huge like the rest of him. In no time at all the hot muscle was filling the entirety of your mouth and he had you clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you from floating away. His arms held you tightly to him with your head resting in the nook of his right arm and his heavy hook against your right hip, moving under you to tilt you towards him and soon you are melting into him. He tasted like cigar smoke and whiskey but you didn't mind because it was just...perfectly him.

There wasn't any part of her mouth he left unexplored, making a mental map to be remembered forever he groaned at the sweet taste of honey from her tea. Flicking her tongue with his he gave her the encouragement she needed to join him, telling her it was okay. He knew she was nervous but she didn't have to be he would teach her how to kiss just as well as he would to use a sword. As soon as her tongue began dancing with his own he hummed in approval, felt her hands grip his shirt at the sleeve and chest. There would no doubt be wrinkles but he couldn't give a damn. As soon as he started to feel his pants become a little uncomfortable there was a knock at the door.

"Hey Capt'n somethin' weird is goin' on with the log pose..."

A deep growl left his throat before he pulled away and let you breath. Your lungs were thankful to have the much needed air but your lips missed his. Still though his arms held you tightly.

"I am going to kill the lot of them." he growled and heard her giggle.

"Be nice."

Grunting he looked down at her and grinned at the sight of her slightly red lips, he wondered how they would look once he really got a hold of them. Brushing back her hair he kissed her temple, "Why don't you go ahead and take a shower and I will go deal with those idiots."

"Mmm-kay."

Kissing her one last time he stood and sat her on her feet. Watching her walk away he dropped his eyes to her ass and felt his cock give another twitch. Gritting his teeth he downed the rest of his drink and headed out to see what was going on with the log pose.

..........................

Hearing the bathroom door open you looked over and saw Crocodile walking out, finished with his own shower. He was wearing nothing but his green silk sleeping pants. Peeking up over the top of your phone at him you swallowed hard at the sight of his bare chest and back. With all of the layers he wore it was hard to tell sometimes how built his body was. Feeling the unfamilar warmth between your thighs you quickly snapped your eyes back down before he could catch you checking him out.

Tossing the towel to the chair he turned off the oil lamp, leaving the room in the dim light of the candle on the dresser. Looking towards the little woman lounged back on the large bed he grinned at the sight of her smooth legs, clad in one of his old dress shirts and her black panties he was more than pleased at the amount of skin he was able to see. While he had seen her nude already it had only been for a second and when her body had been covered in blood, bruises and welts, it was a sight he never wanted to see again. Crawling onto the bed he laid beside her, curling his arm around her and pulling her up into hsi side. Looking down at the screen of her phone he rose a brow at the words on covering the screen. "What are you doing little star?" he asked.

"Reading." you answered simply.

Humming he caresed her arm, "What are you reading?"

"The Outlander series, I had forgot I downloaded them onto my phone until I was looking through it the other day and found them. Kinda sucks though because there I only have eight of them and I know she planned for ten so I won't know the ending." you told him then shrugged, "I'll just make up my own ending." you smiled.

Twirling her hair around his finger he closed his eyes. "What are they about?"

"This 20th-century British nurse Claire Randall, who time travels to 18th-century Scotland and finds adventure and romance with the Highland warrior Jamie Fraser." you told him, blushing a bit. "It's pretty good so far, different than the other books I have read. Honestly the only reason I downloaded them to begin with is because the woman at the bookstore back in my town told me I should give it a try and wouldn't keep pestering me about it every time I went in there."

"What makes it so different from the other books you read?"

Licking your lips you bit your lip, "Um well it's..." feeling your face and neck heat up you felt him shift some and knew he was looking down at you.

Cracking one eye open he saw a blush about her cheeks and smirked. "Are you reading a steamy book darling?" he asked.

"No...No. I..maybe. There might be a few heated moments..." you said.

Oh this was entertaining... "Let me see." he said, moving to take the phone from her.

"NO!" you said, hiding the phone from him. Feeling him try and grab it still you rolled over and hold it under you.

Grinning he followed after her, enjoying how flustered she was becoming. Pushing his hand under her he tried to wiggle the phone out of her grip. "Come now sweetheart, your Captain is giving you a order..."

"The Captain can kiss my butt." you grumbled.

Laughing he wrapped his arm around her, "I can assure you I have no issues with that." he told her and saw her cheeks heat up even more. Wrapping his leg around hers he managed to grab the phone from her and held her still as he started reading over the words. Not seeing anything interesting at first he kept scrolling until he got to the good stuff.

"You're mine, mo duinne," he said softly, pressing himself into my depths. "Mine alone, now and forever. Mine, whether ye will it or no." I pulled against his grip, and sucked in my breath with a faint "ah" as he pressed even deeper. "Aye, I mean to use ye hard, my Sassenach," he whispered. "I want to own you, to possess you, body and soul."

He felt his own cheeks heat up a bit at the words, even though there were a few he didn't understand. When he felt a slight pain in his arm he looked down and saw her biting him. Chuckling he placed the phone down and nuzzled his nose into her neck, "Naughty girl." he teased and heard her groan in embarrassment. "I am only teasing you my little star." he told her, brushing back her hair and placing a kiss to her jaw.

Relaxing into his body you wrapped your arms around his left one and felt his right hand rub up and down your bare thigh, the heat from his hand warming your whole body. That warming between your legs was back, making you close your eyes. "Croc..." you said softly and heard his deep hum, felt it along your back. "Thank you for.. for waiting, for being patient, I know it's not fair to you but I..."

"What was it I told you before?" he asked, cutting her off. When she said nothing he hummed, "I told you I would help you heal slowly... that means that we will not rush things, that I will not rush you." Moving up to her hip he gave a light squeeze and closed his eyes as his manhood hardened, "I want you y/n, I want to make you mine but not until you are ready because I will not enjoy it unless you do as well." Taking a deep breath he used his sand to put out the flame on the candle and pulled the duvet over the both of them, moving his hand to wrap around her middle he kissed the crown of her head. "Goodnight starlight."

"Goodnight." you whispered, turning your head to kiss his arm.

[duckymcdoorknob]

Two Pints ‘A Sam Adams.

Prompt: The night after the Winter’s Ball, the guys hang at Laf’s house to discuss their luck. A very drunk John gets the blues when he learns Alex met someone. Until Laf gets an Idea...

THIS IS A TICKLE FIC!

Warnings: drinking, tickling, A N G S T Y.

Ships: Lams

Word count: too fuckin many. Probably about 2.5-3k

1780, A winter’s ball. And Alexander was the envy of all. Well, just of his friends. The guys were gathered around Lafayette’s coffee table, reminiscing the night’s events...

“She was totally into you Laf.” Hercules chimed.

“She was! But Alex over ‘ere...” Lafayette spoke with a condescending tone.

“Okay you may be right...” Alex replied fearfully

“But...?” Hercules asked lifting his brows.

“There is no but. Angelica was totally hot, I wanted to try my luck.” Alexander spoke with a smirk.

“You asshole!” Lafayette playfully hit Alexander’s shoulder

“Well I heard...” John finally spoke up, “that you met a special someone tonight...”

“What are you trying to ‘ide, Alex?” Lafayette asked raising his eyebrows twice

“Nothing! Nothing! John is just shit blasted, that’s all.” Alexander laughed off Laf’s question.

“Fuck off, ‘lex! I’m fINE!” John replied with a huff.

“John.. that’s your third pint of Sam’s.” Hercules interrupted.

“I’m not even wasted yet! Fuck you!” John yelled as he took another swing of his alcohol.

“Annnnywayyyys...” Alexander responded, drawing the attention back to him, “I did meet someone”

Hercules turned to face him, Laf’s eyes lit up and John was... scowling?

Alexander went on to talk about Eliza. He talked about her eyes, her smile, her personality... everything. Lafayette left to grab John some water, so he wouldn’t pass out and die.

As Alexander went on, John found himself fighting away his tears. “Why is she so special? I have pretty eyes! And a dazzling smile... and a... tolerable personality.” John thought to himself. He sulked down into his chair, plastered an interested grin and toned Alexander out. His own mind turned on him, putting himself down until he didn’t believe in himself anymore. John brushed it off, he always felt this way. He didn’t feel good enough. It wasn’t until after a few glasses of water, and a little bit of sobriety, when he noticed he was actually hurting.

“John?” Alexander’s voice suddenly sounded, “John buddy are you okay?” His voice was full of concern, as he awaited a response from his friend.

“Alex what’s wrong? Oh shi- John!?” Hercules scooted towards the man.

“Shit guys ‘mfine... what are you all-“ John pauses abruptly. He looked down at his pants to see they were covered in wet spots. He was crying. “Oh yeah... haha that’d probably concern you. This just happens when I get drunk.” John was practically sober now. It wasn’t from his drunkness, it was from Alexander.

“If you say so... we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you. We love you man.” Alexander replied.

“Heh. Thanks.” John replies with a sniffle. “Except you don’t... you love Eliza...”

The guys went back to shooting the shit, leaving John alone in his thoughts once again.

Lafayette looked up at John, who had his hands balled up into fists. He clung tightly to the material on his pants, teeth gritted, eyes watering. Laf figured it would be best to not make a scene, so he slowly inched toward John. Once he was near him he ever so carefully brought himself up to John’s level. “You don’t seem fine mon ami”

John looked up at Lafayette, who wore a concerned face, with sympathetic eyes. He then hung his head in shame... how embarrassing, Laf caught him crying, again.

Alexander and Hercules went into the kitchen to grab some food, too immersed in their conversation to notice what was happening.

Lafayette helped John to his feet, and helped him out the front door. It was a mild night, the heat had not yet broken in the city. The crying man collapsed on the soft grass, Lafayette soon sat down criss cross. “Now please, John. Tell me what’s wrong”

John immediately broke down, wailing as he buried his head in his hands. Lafayette practically flung himself to embrace the crumbling man in front of him. “Everything’s going to be okay mon ami. Shhh. It’s okay.”

“He... he... Im just-“ John tried to manage through his hysterics.

“Take your time.” Laf said as he rubbed John’s back.

“I’m... I’m just...” John sighed, he couldn’t take it anymore, “I’m just gay, Laf.” He hung his head in shame, expecting Lafayette to scold him.

“Oh John...” Laf spoke up, “I’m not going to shame you for who you are”

John sighed in relief; tears continued streaming down his face.

“I catch you staring at ‘erc and Alex’s asses all of the time mon ami.” Lafayette said with a chuckle. “Come on, let’s go back inside.”

Laf wipes John’s tears away and helps him to his feet. On their way in, Laf sees the curtain ruffle quickly. Hercules and Alex has seen everything. When they open the door, Alex and Hercules were back in their chairs talking about random things.

“Oh. Hey John, hey Laf! Where’d you guys go?” Alexander questioned with fake interest.

“Oh uh... on a walk.” John said quickly

“To the store.” Laf said at the same time

“To the st-“

“On a walk.” They replied at the same time once more.

“On a walk to the store, yeah...” John replied

“John... dont bullshit us, we heard everything.” Hercules said quietly.

John hung his head in shame. Why couldn’t he just be normal?

“John listen.” Alex said with a half smile, “we aren’t friends with you because we thought you were straight. We’re friends with you because we love you for who you are. Also, how’s my ass look?” He said as he turned around and wiggled.

John let out a genuine laugh, “peachy keen good sir!” he said with a bow, “Thank you guys but.. I just don’t feel good enough for you.” He sighed and looked everywhere but at his friends.

“Well this is quite the dillema we’re in isn’t it.” Lafayette said as he looked at the other group members.

They all plastered the same grin, they knew JUST what to do.

“Come here John everything is fine.” Hercules said as he opened his arms. He pulled John into an embrace and sat down on the floor with him.

“Okay Herc thats enough hugging... seriously let me go.��� John said as he tried to wiggle his way out of Herc’s grip. He got stuck at about his chest, he couldn’t move a muscle! “Hercules I mean it! I’m stuck!”

Alexander crawled towards the duo, with an evil grin on his face. “You know John, I think you need to lighten up a bit.” Alex said as he sat in front of them. “You just need to see yourself from our point of view.” Alexander pulled John’s blue shirt up to reveal his toned stomach. “Wow! You’ve been working hard, you’re looking great.”

John hid his head in Hercules’ arms, “Alex you’re embarrassing me.”

“Well I don’t want you to feel down upon yourself! Let’s get our old happy John back! Shall we, Laf?”

Alexander then rested his fingers on John’s stomach.

John yelped and squirmed in Hercules’ grip. “You wouldn’t fucking dare.”

“Yes we fucking would.” Lafayette responded as he gave John’s knee a squeeze.

The two got to work on John. Alexander spidered his fingers all over John’s stomach and sides, while Laf squeezed his knees and thighs.

John felt giggles bubbling up inside of him. “C..come on guys! You d-don’t have to d-do this!”

“But we do!” Alex responded as he changed his attack. He began to squeeze at John’s sides and stomach.

“S-sohohon of a bihihitch!” John whispered as he started giggling.

“That’s the sound we’re looking for!” Lafayette chimed as he straddled John’s legs.

Hercules pinned John’s wrists to the floor with one arm. “Sorry buddy, but it’s for your own good.” He said as he spidered his fingers into John’s clothed underarms.

The man thrashed under all of his friends’ attacks. “Nohohoho! Stahahahap ihihit!” He could only lay on Lafayette’s hard floor and endure his torment.

“Ooh Laf! You thinking what I’m thinking?” Alexander said as he let up his attack.

“Right ahead of you mon ami.” Lafayette responded as he slowly took off John’s boots.

Hercules was still enjoying his time working on John’s underarms. “N-n-nohohoho! Lahahahahaf! Plehehehehahahse dohohohohnt!”

“Sorry John! It’s for your benefit!” Laf chimed in response as he took off both of John’s boots.

Hercules let up his attack, “this should be fun.” He said with a chuckle. He held down both of John’s arms in preparation.

“WAIHAHAIT! PLEAHAHAHAEHESE!” John cried as Laf brought a finger towards his most ticklish spot.

“Such a beautiful sound, John! I think we should hear more!” Alexander said while straddling John’s hips, “ready, Herc? Laf?”

Hercules nodded and the men assaulted their spots. Herc worked his fingers around John’s underarms, Alexander drilled his thumbs into John’s hips, Laf masterfully assaulted John’s socked feet.

John yelled in protest as his friends’ attacks were almost overwhelming. “GAHAHAHA- OH GOHOHOHOD PLEEHEHEHEAHAHSE STAHAHAHAP!” He pounded his fist into the hard floor beneath him.

“ ‘ey! be careful with my floor! Don’t you dare brea-“ there was a knock at the door. “Come in!” Laf chimed happily. The three men stopped their attacks, expect for Alex who would sneak a few squeezes to John’s stomach.

The door opened and standing in the doorway was an intrigued Aaron Burr. “What in the hell are you three-“ John yelped as Alex poked him again, “four doing?”

“John is sad. He needed a laugh.” Alexander said giving John’s side a firm squeeze.

“Burr! Buhuhurr you gohohot to hehelp me.” John said panting

“Well I was going to come to talk about the ball but... hey. No reason to wait for it.” Aaron rolled his sleeves up and positioned himself at John’s side.

“Im doomed.” John said with his voice an octave higher.

Lafayette took his opportunity to peel off John’s socks. “Burr ‘es a screamer. Prepare yourself.”

Aaron chuckled and hovered his hands teasingly over John’s stomach.

Giggles poured out of him and he writhed about to get away from Burr’s torturous hands.

“Im not even touching you! What’s so funny?” Aaron after fake offended.

“Where’d you learn to tease like that?” Alex said with a chuckle.

“Only the best.” He nudged Alex’s shoulder.

“One.” Hercules spoke up suddenly.

“Two.” Aaron said as he positioned his fingers above John’s writhing figure.

“THREE!” They all yelled. John said his prayers in his head as he knew he was about to be wrecked.

Lafayette held back John’s toes and began to rake his fingers up and down the poor man’s most ticklish spot. Aaron squeezed at John’s stomach, Alex drilled into the man’s hip bones and Hercules was content at his underarms.

John cried out in agony as his attackers overwhelmed him.

“OHOHOHO MAHAHAHY GOHOHOHOD FUHUHUHUCK!” He screamed.

“Yo! There’s no fucking cursing in my ‘ouse!” Lafayette barked as he stared to spider his fingers along The ball of John’s feet.

Tears of mirth formed in John’s eyes as he could only sit and endure his torment. His laughter flowed out of him. His eyes were tightly squeezed shut and his whole body was shaking.

Hercules gently put his knees on John’s wrists. Careful as to not hurt him, and pulled John’s shirt over his head. He then began to spider his fingers along the sides of John’s arms, up into his underarms and all over his chest.

John smacked Hercules lightly in the back, but gave up and endured the hell he was facing.

Aaron stopped his attack, audibly apologized to all his friends for what he was about to do, and prepared his next assault. “Watch this.” He yelled over John’s thick laughter. Everyone’s attack stopped and John took this time to breathe. “I learned this from a friend of mine.” Burr said while bringing him head down towards John’s stomach. He put his lips together a blew a fat raspberry into John’s stomach.

“BUHUHURR- AHHH! AHH MAHAHAHAHA GAHAHAHAD! DOHOHOHONT!”

The trio took this as their final stretch before John would be too tired. They all increased their attack tenfold and watched John move into hysterics.

“MER- MERHEHEHEHCYHYHY! I CAHAHAHAHANT TAHAHAHKE IHIHIT AHAHAHNYMOHOHOHOREHEHE! AH GAHAHAHAHAD PLEHEHEHEHEAHAHASE! STAHAHAP!”

Everyone stopped immediately and got off of John. Alex gave one last poke to John’s sensitive stomach. The man yelped and curled into a ball.

“Nohoho... nohoho mohohore.” He said in soft laughter as he felt a pair of hands on his body.

Lafayette picked up John like a baby and put him on the couch.

The three other men chatted with Lafayette as they let John rest. Nearly an hour into their chat, Alex spoke up.

“I think he feels much better now.” Alex brought up quietly.

“Agreed.” Hercules responded

“What was he upset about in the first place?” Aaron inquired.

“I don’t know.” Lafayette lied, “maybe ‘e was upset that ‘e didn’t bring ‘ome a date.”

John sighed in relief from his spot on the couch. “Thanks Laf.”

Hercules and Alex looked back at John, who was still smiling.

“Well.” Aaron said as he stood up from his chair, “I best be going”

Just as Burr went to open the door, the sky opened up and it was pouring outside.

“Since you cant go anymore.” John spoke up, “C..can you um... c..can you do that again?” He said with a flushed face as he looked to the floor.

Burr smiled evilly and sighed. “John Laurens, are you trying to tell me that you enjoyed us completely wrecking you? And now you want us to do exactly that once again?”

John tried to stutter out a response

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” Aaron interrupted, “gentlemen?”

The quad smiled evilly and charged at John, then they soon had him on the floor in the same position.

John’s sweet laughter was heard echoing for hours again.

[starlocked01]

Rivals to Soulmates Speedrun

AO3

Masterpost- Previous- Next

Summary: Logan is confident in his ability to compete academically. He's not prepared for the consequences of ignoring his team. Content Warning: Brief swearing, Kissing, one mild nsfw mention

Day 24 Loceit- When you first meet your soulmate you see a vision of the future. Modified so that the vision happens at their first touch.

"Alright I need everyone to focus. I don't know how we managed to get this far but we did and we are not going home empty handed," Logan looked each of his teammates in the eyes. He really did not know what miracle had gotten them all the way to the championship- no wait, yes he did. It was him. The unfortunate truth of attending a small private school meant that getting on the Academic Challenge team was not so much a matter of skill or knowledge, rather it was asking to be on the team.

Logan was used to pulling more than his fair share of the burden anyway. And at least Roman knew theater stuff and Patton- well, Patton was there for moral support.

"Just remember, all answers go through me," Logan stood straight and smiled confidently.

"Whatever you say, Spock," Roman sighed, more interested in his nails than the team captain's speech, "let's get this nerd royale over with."

"Remember to have fun, kiddos," Patton grinned and clapped his teammates on their backs as they made their entrance on stage.

Logan's first thought was to size up the competition. He wasn't intimidated in the slightest but one must know their enemy.

First was a boy who looked like he'd been dragged out of the alleyway and forced on the team. If his monochromatic outfit and terrible posture matched his enthusiasm he wouldn't pose any immediate threat to Logan.

The second boy looked, in a word, deranged. His large grin and wide eyes were out of place among the serious faces of the other competitors. Logan did have to note that the frilly black and green skirt complimented him well. The boy caught Logan’s eye and winked at him. Eugh.

The third, the team captain, was on a different level entirely from his team.  Logan immediately felt utter loathing for that casual smirk. Everything about him just screamed "pretentious asshole who thinks he's smarter than everyone in the room". Logan scoffed at his socially deviant attire, which included a bowler hat and black capelet. Logan adjusted his tie. How ridiculous looking. This boy thought he was a threat to Logan. That misconception would be quickly rectified.

"Welcome to the Academic Challenge District Championship! I'm your host tonight, Thomas Sanders," the man grinned widely at the seven people in the audience, "today's game will be three rounds. Team captains, if you would step forward and shake hands."

Logan stepped forward and met the other captain in the middle of the stage. He offered a yellow-gloved hand to Logan.

"Gloves?"

"You can never be too careful. May the best team win."

Logan grabbed his hand and shook firmly, "we will."

"We'll see," the other captain smirked and turned back to his team with a flourish of his cape.

Logan smirked and pivoted to walk back to Patton and Roman who were already set up at the podium. Both boys looked absolutely bored out of their minds already but Patton at least tried to give Logan a supportive smile.

Logan gave the host a self-confident smirk, "it's game time."

They quickly ran a buzzer check for both teams and started the categories round. The other team seemed pretty evenly matched with Logan and not many points were turned over while toss-ups became a matter of who was faster to the buzzer. By the end of the round Logan had a slight lead and felt very confident.

"Alright! Now it's time for the alphabet round! Today's letter is 'N' and all the answers will start with 'n'. Teams here are your sheets, you have 4 minutes starting… now!" Thomas declared and both teams quickly flipped the list of questions.

"'Musical about the effects of mental illness on a family'," Logan read the first question aloud, "Roman, what's the answer?"

Roman shrugged, "I dunno."

"What do you mean, 'I dunno'?" Logan hissed, "this is your area of expertise!"

"Just because I'm an actor doesn't mean I've seen every show," Roman scoffed, reading down the list of questions to himself, "well I don't know any of this. Try Hamilton."

"It has to start with 'N'!" Logan groaned.

"What about 'Next to Normal'?" Patton didn't look up from his paper where he was drawing.

"Okay fine. What are you doing?"

Patton showed him the doodle, "it's a nectarine for number 17."

Logan looked dumbfounded and scrambled for the last two minutes to answer as many as possible. He glanced over at the other team to find them all talking calmly while the green skirt boy scribbled down the answers.

The buzzer sounded and both teams handed their sheets to Thomas who quickly graded the answers.

"And with that round both teams are tied! It all comes down to the lightning round. To your buzzers everyone!"

Logan only started to mildly panic when the other team got the first three answers. He knew them but couldn't buzz in fast enough.

"Help me out here, guys," he hissed at the others.

Roman rolled his eyes and buzzed in halfway through the next question, "the answer is American Gothic."

"How could you possibly know that?" Logan was furious but turned to give their official answer, "uh Grant Wood."

"No, sorry, Team B?"

The boy in the cape leaned in to the others before responding, "American Gothic."

"Correct!" Thomas replied cheerfully.

"Told you, you're on your own, wonder nerd," Roman sighed and went back to not paying attention.

Logan did his best to keep up but was falling miserably behind.

"Okay last question, where did Descartes claim the human soul resided in the body?" Thomas waited for the buzzer.

"Shit!" Logan dropped his head in shame,then heard the buzzer ring and looked up to see Patton had rang in.

"The pineal gland!" Patton blurted out cheerfully. Logan’s head hit the podium. That was the dumbest-

"Correct! And with that the final score is Team A 350 to Team B 470! Congratulations to Dark Knell High!" Thomas led the scattered applause for the team.

Logan stood, furious, and walked back to the center of the stage where the other captain stood, looking smug as hell and holding the trophy. Logan stuck out his hand for the congratulatory handshake, scowling. The boy made a show of removing his glove before taking Logan’s hand.

Logan’s back against a brick wall with that smug face inches from his. The expression softens and a finger traces his cheek before he leans in to kiss Logan. A cacophony of conflicting emotions screams through his head and settles on "wait, am I gay?" just before he kisses back, anger and humiliation temporarily forgotten in the arms of-

"Janus, my name is Janus. Looks like I'll be seeing you behind the school," Janus winked at a stunned Logan. Logan quickly straightened up and returned to his team.

"What was that about, Specs? You two were standing there for like a minute," Roman looked amused.

"I-" Logan couldn't make himself speak.

"I'm sorry we lost, Lo," Patton smiled apologetically, "they worked really well together as a team. It was going to be hard to beat them."

"No- Patton you did marvelously. I'm sorry for doubting you. And Roman, I'm sorry for not trusting you and not working together as a team. I failed you both," Logan looked down to his feet, ashamed.

"Aw, it's okay, Lo! Maybe we can practice together more before the next tournament and work together next time?" Patton gave him a reassuring smile.

"Assuming I'm even still on the team. Honestly, this sucked. I'm out of here," Roman turned to leave.

"Roman…" Patton chided

"Ugh, fine, yes we'll do better next time," he waved the others off as he left the stage to talk with their advisor.

"He'll come around," Patton grinned, "but seriously were you okay up there?"

"Patton, I think I need to go meet my soulmate. Don't let Dr. Picani leave without me," Logan was distracted by Janus slipping out a back door.

"What?? Okay I'll stall," Patton looked incredibly happy for his friend.

Logan followed Janus out the back door and soon found himself reliving the vision he'd had.

"That was a close game. I wasn't certain we were going to win until your team fell apart," Janus smiled at him, hand still in Logan's hair.

"Well, I didn't expect- you," Logan's mind was whirling.

Janus slipped him a scrap of paper and kissed his cheek before turning back to the door, "call me."

Logan looked at the phone number, "I'm Logan. And I'm sorry you're stuck with me for a soulmate."

"I'm sure we'll make it work. I was quite impressed with your performance today. Until next time, Logan," with that Janus slipped back inside and Logan realized he needed to not miss the bus back home. He sprinted around the school and found Dr. Picani patiently dealing with Patton's antics. He climbed on the bus while their advisor was distracted and collapsed in his seat.

"So where'd you disappear to, L?" Roman asked without looking up from his phone.

"Janus is my soulmate. I saw the vision when we shook hands the second time," Logan confessed.

"Oh my god! Good for you, Lo! Maybe getting laid will make you chill out," Roman smirked, texting his own soulmate.

"Wow, rude. I expected nothing less from you," Logan smirked, fishing his phone out of his backpack and programming the number in his phone before calling Janus.

"Love you, Specs," Roman grinned as Patton and Dr. Picani finally boarded the bus.

"Nice job today team! We didn't win but you gave it your best, which is what counts! Did you all have a good time?" Dr. Picani gave them all a broad grin, genuinely proud despite the loss.

"Logan sure had a good time," Roman snickered.

"I had fun!" Patton beamed.

Logan held the still ringing phone away from his ear, "today was adequate. Thank you, Dr. Picani."

"Great, let's get home," Dr. Picani turned to the bus driver and they started driving back. Logan grinned as Janus finally picked up the phone.

"Hello, Logan."

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