#too gay for this man to let this continue in the manner that it is

[solbach-colbrock]

This close 🤏 to writing for Seth bc there’s a criminal lack of Seth Borden fics on this hellsite

[dcigar]

Alex.

By day, he was a mild-mannered accountant, crunching numbers in a sterile office. But by night, he became someone entirely different.

It all started innocently enough. One evening, Alex stumbled upon a leather shop tucked away in a dimly lit alley. Curiosity piqued, he ventured inside, drawn by the smell of rich, supple leather and the promise of hidden desires.

As he ran his fingers over the sleek jackets and rugged boots, something stirred within him. It was a feeling he couldn't quite place, a sense of exhilaration mixed with a hint of taboo. And when he slipped on a leather jacket, the world shifted.

Suddenly, Alex felt more alive than ever before. The cool touch of the leather against his skin sent shivers down his spine, and he couldn't help but admire his reflection in the mirror. Gone was the shy accountant; in his place stood a confident, powerful man.

From that moment on, Alex's life took on a new rhythm. He sought out leather wherever he could find it, reveling in the way it made him feel alive and free. He attended leather events and gatherings, immersing himself in the vibrant subculture that welcomed him with open arms.

But along the way, Alex faced challenges too. He grappled with his own insecurities and fears, worried about what others might think of his newfound passion. Yet with each step he took, he found strength in his authenticity, embracing his identity as a gay man who loved to wear leather.

And as he walked through the city streets, head held high and leather-clad, Alex knew one thing for certain: he had discovered a part of himself he never knew existed, and he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

One fateful evening, Alex decided to take his exploration of leather to the next level. He ventured into a renowned gay leather club, drawn by the promise of a community that understood and embraced his desires.

Inside the dimly lit club, the air was thick with anticipation and the scent of leather mingled with the heady aroma of cigars. As Alex made his way through the crowd, he couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over him.

It was there, in the heart of the club, that he discovered his love for cigars. Entranced by the sight of men puffing on their smoldering sticks, he hesitantly accepted an offer to try one for himself.

As the rich, earthy flavor enveloped his senses, Alex felt a rush of pleasure unlike anything he had experienced before. The smoke danced on his tongue, filling him with a sense of warmth and contentment.

From that moment on, cigars became a staple of Alex's leather-clad adventures. He relished the ritual of lighting up, the camaraderie shared with fellow enthusiasts, and the way the smoke added an extra layer of intensity to his experiences.

With each visit to the leather club, Alex discovered more about himself and the vibrant subculture he had become a part of. And as he indulged in his love for leather and cigars, he found a sense of liberation and empowerment that he had never known before.

As Alex continued to immerse himself in the leather community and embrace his newfound passions, he decided to take another bold step: he grew a beard.

At first, it was just a stubble, a hint of rugged masculinity that complemented his leather-clad persona. But as time went on, Alex let his beard grow longer and fuller, until it became a defining feature of his appearance.

With each passing day, the beard became more than just a symbol of his masculinity; it became a symbol of his confidence and self-assurance. Running his fingers through the coarse hair, Alex felt a sense of pride in the person he had become.

As he walked through the city streets, leather jacket hugging his frame, cigar smoke trailing behind him, and beard framing his face, Alex felt like he was truly living life on his own terms. And with each passing day, he discovered new depths to his identity, finding joy and fulfillment in every aspect of his journey.

With his confidence soaring and his sense of self solidifying, Alex delved deeper into his exploration of leather. One day, while browsing through a leather boutique, he stumbled upon a pair of leather chaps.

Intrigued by their rugged appeal and the way they showcased his legs, Alex couldn't resist trying them on. As he fastened the buckles and adjusted the straps, he felt a surge of excitement course through him.

Stepping in front of the mirror, Alex admired his reflection. The leather chaps hugged his thighs snugly, accentuating every curve and contour of his body. He felt powerful, alluring, and completely in command of his desires.

From that moment on, leather chaps became a staple of Alex's wardrobe. Whether he was strutting through the streets or dancing the night away at the leather club, he always felt like the truest version of himself when he wore them.

Embracing his love for leather chaps was just another step in Alex's journey of self-discovery. With each new revelation, he felt more liberated and empowered, unapologetically embracing every aspect of his identity as a gay man who loved to wear leather. And as he continued to explore and celebrate his passions, he knew that the best was yet to come.

More to come…

[jayzioxx]

Masterlist

Idol!Wanderer & Graphic designer!reader would;

Have met back when wanderer was just a trainee taking a break in a park, and [name] was struggling to look for inspiration

Wanderer sighed as he stared at the sky from where he laid. A tree branch, to be exact. It was evening, and there were too many dog owners, elementary school kids, old grannies, and trash divers roaming around the park. He was far too tired to witness the business of a place which should be much more relaxing (in his opinion), and a large tree in a slightly less busy corner of the park seemed to have called him. And there he was, resting his slim body on the wide branch of the tree, watching the blue sky fade into reddish hues through the gaps between the conveniently placed leaves.

Meanwhile, after a week of art block, a week without a single commission, even for an artwork, never mind any graphic designs, [name] was strolling through the city, walking around wherever his legs took him, searching for inspiration.

The sun was setting, and just as [name] decided to give up and call it a day (un unsuccessful, fruitless one), from the corner of his eye he saw a man, resting on a branch, looking so in sync with nature, and so far from human.

He was beautiful, the way his purple hair was slightly messy, and dancing in the mild breeze, the way his eyes were closed in the most perfect manner, showing his rounded eyelids, his clothes all ruffled up from whatever he was doing. His smooth, pearly skin, a perfect contrast to his clothes, hair, and greenery around him.

He looked like art. And his peaceful demeanor shone a light upon the dark corner of [name]'s mind where he had lost all his creative ability.

"Do you need something?" The man on the tree asked, without even opening his eyes.

"I- yeah kind of... can I sketch you?"

Have taken years of pining for them to finally realize they liked each other. Surprisingly enough, wanderer would have known first.

"I think I like you." [name] confessed. It was in the heat of the moment, seeing how beautifully wanderer danced on the stage, how smoothly his voice flowed to the crowd, and how adorable he looked quietly evading the crowd and dragging [name] backstage.

Wanderer continued to drag him somewhere silently, and [name] looked away, anywhere but wanderer's figure.

"It's fine if you don't- just forget about what I said I mean you probably don't even like guys and-" but wanderer cut him off mid sentence.

"Just wait till we go somewhere more private."

"Okay..."

Wanderer brought [name] to a secluded corner of the dressing area, turning around to face him and keeping a firm yet gentle hold on his shoulders.

"Say that again." He demanded, the slight red at the tip of his ears covered by his purple hair.

"I like you. A lot. I dont know when it happened either I just do and I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable but please don't let us lose what we hav-"

"Who said I'm uncomfortable? I like you too idiot." Wanderer said abruptly. His cheeks matching the colour of his lips by the time he finished his sentence.

"By the way... when did you start liking me?" [Name] asked as he rested his legs on wanderer's lap, attention leaving the cheesy drama playing on the TV.

"Way before you started making heart eyes at me."

"Since when did I do that?!"

"Around 4 years before you confessed."

"I didn't even know I was gay back then!"

"Sucks to be you."

Have their relationship caught less than a year after they got together.

"Your fans are fucking crazy." [Name] sighed as he scrolled through twitter, seeing tons of hate posts against him and wanderer, yet most of them were so poorly worded that he was sure it those 'fans' were all 12 year olds.

"I don't even like them don't bother reading that shit." Wanderer snatched the phone from [name] and held it away from him.

"But they're so funny..."

"Wait what are you typing."

"Don't you do anything reckless-"

And wanderer just replied on 15 hate posts (on his damn main) "bitchless behaviour".

Funny enough, a lot of his (non 12 year old) fans were going batshit crazy. Not canceling him, but rather supporting them.

This soon developed into a huge [name] fandom, I mean, there were a lot of artists in wanderer's fandom. Cue jealous wanderer.

Would work together after wanderer ends his 7 year contract with 5wirl and goes solo. [Name] is his muse for all his songs and every album cover, concept design and album design is made by [name] himself. The fans totally eat it up. After all, no one captures wanderer's beauty like his partner

Idol!wanderer

Shows his love through actions. He's not the best with words, but he still wears his heart on his sleeve. He's so clingy when he gets comfortable, yet stone cold in public. Despite that, when it comes to [name] no matter where he is, he's like a warm blanket on a cold day.

Again, he's not the best with words, yet he never uses them to hurt [name]. Others... not so much. He's snarky as hell and so obnoxious when he's talking to someone he doesn't like. Well that's also his charm. No wonder fans love him so much.

Takes time to open up, even after starting the relationship. And when he does. He says everything. His mother, how he was abandoned, the friends who raised him only to die untimely, when he lived with a gang, when his aunt's friend found him, when he was adopted by his aunt. Everything. And he knows [name] won't judge but still, his heart feels a bit unsure. [Name] still reassures him though, that his past doesn't change anything between them. He cries, by the way. And he's so cute when he does.

'I am a stone cold unfeeling strong man.' Is the little spoon. He won't admit it but he enjoys being wrapped in [name]'s embrace. Cutie.

a/n;

my final gift for scara fans while i go on hiatus for exams haha... I tried to get his personality as close to wanderer as i can but i feeeeeeel like i didn't add enough scara snark... And for those of you who didn't notice [name] is a MAN

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Fatal Preferences

~ Teen!Joel Miller/Teen!Male!Reader

~ (Light?) Whump/Angst (Day 9)

~ Platonic/crushing

~ 2.5k words

CW/TW; Minor homophobia in a religious context, use of "queer" in a derogatory manner (Written by a gay man)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fall of 1996, a simple time to be alive. At least, for you and Joel, your childhood best friend. School was the only thing you guys had to worry about. That, and Joel’s younger brother, Tommy, invading your conversations like a nuisance. You both were too young for a part-time job, being fifteen.

Your parents were lenient with you, unlike Joel’s mother, but you still had rules. Only an hour allowed on your new N64, inside before the streetlights come on, wash your hands before and after dinner, do good in school..etc. Joel’s mother, despite never really meeting her, you heard she was different. Extremely so.

Joel had to attend church on Sundays, only allowed to wear the clothes his mom picked out for him, no swearing, strict ban on Playboy, comics, and video games, no guitar playing after five in the evening, take Tommy with him if he were to leave the house, no media that paints Jesus in a bad light… Despite the overbearing-ness, he seemed to love his mother a lot, who were you to judge? Especially since that meant he got to spend more time with you at your house. Over fall break, he spent more time with you than at his own house, even if he was forbidden from staying the night with you. Something about “corruption of a young man’s mind”? You didn’t get it.

You had to let ten-year-old Tommy play on your N64 again to keep him quiet, when the brothers came over to your house again for Joel to hang out, but the boy promised to shut up and let you and Joel leave your house alone, heading out to the woods surrounding your neighborhood. Joel and Tommy lived a few households down from you, which definitely contributed to the amount of times you two hung out. The sound of walking more than a few houses amidst the Arlington summer heat sounded less than appealing, even if it WAS for Joel.

You’d do a lot for him, and he you. It was painfully obvious the two of you liked one another; it was part of the reason why Joel and Tommy’s mother hated them coming to see you so often. You were sinful in her eyes. You didn’t understand it really.

You and Joel had never discussed what you two truly were, even with all the times you two hung out alone. He especially liked when his mother was distracted with Tommy and he got to spend more time with you. He enjoyed when you two could curl up in your bed and rewatch The Fox and The Hound for the umpteenth time through your dad’s ongoing collection of VHS tapes. Limbs intertwined together, unwilling to be untangled, with hearts beating as one.

But he wasn’t queer or anything. That was wrong, his mother said. Sure, he thought your eyes were pretty and his gut got all warm when he heard you speak, but that wasn’t gay. That was just liking how pretty your best friend is! How pretty, and nice, and warm, and funny, and good at Mario you were.

“Hey, check this out!” Joel calls over towards you as he bends down to pick up a stick partially hidden in the dirt, the soil getting up underneath his nails. The wood had grown into a pointed angle, as if it were the handle to a gun. Pointing it towards you with a mischievous giggle, his hands wrapped around the “handle”.

Feigning surprise, you put your hands up near your head as you stop in place, a grin splitting across your face. “Yeahh.. That’s right. Just keep your hands up, mister. I ain’t plannin’ on lettin’ you go any time soon.” He states affirmatively as he glances around the surroundings rapidly, searching for something else to use, but ultimately finding nothing.

“Just-” Joel begins again as he approaches you, pushing the pointed end of the stick against your sternum, earning a slight grimace of pain from you. “Put your hands behind your back.” He continues, looking right back into your eyes. It was a bit stupid, the entire thing, but that lovely smile told you everything you needed to know.

“Please don’t arrest me, sir! I gotta family back home!” You exclaim dramatically as you turn your back on Joel, lowering your hands from your head to clasp behind your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you watch as he tries to figure out where to put his new stick on his body, but not wanting a lecture from his mother on getting his clothes dirty, he just drops it at his feet.

“Not anymore, you don’t!” Joel declares. The comment didn’t make much sense, and that was the hilarious bit about it. Prolonged jokes; they were a true joy. Joel’s hands reach down and wrap around your own, but he pauses for a singular second. Shifting his grip on your hands to intertwine your fingers with his own. The dirt on his fingertips rubbing off against you, the grains gently scraping against your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You could feel your heart begin to race and your mouth go dry.

“Yeah? Why not?” You muse, gently prying your hands from his. Instead, turning around to face him again, grabbing ahold of his hands in yours. Joel’s thumb fidgets mindlessly with the skin between your forefinger and your thumb, creating a slight gap between your palms.

“I dunno.” He confesses with a lazy shrug. Snickering, you let go of him, playfully pushing against his chest. “You’re stupid.” You tease. “So are you!” Joel replies adamantly as he takes a step back. Only to follow up your shove with another against your chest.

“I am what?” You taunt, barely even budging from Joel’s lackluster push. You knew “stupid” was a bad word in his household. Along with other “swear words” like “hate” or “dumb”. Joel said his mother would make him bite into a bar of soap if he said them, so he tried to avoid those words and ACTUAL curse words.

“Shut up.” Joel huffs as he folds his arms over his chest like a petulant toddler, but you knew it was all an act and his words lacked any real bite. You’d been friends since preschool, of course you could read your best friend… boyfriend? ‘s body language!

With a small hum, you step closer towards him again, coaxing his arms from across his chest to drape over your shoulders. It was just like this. Alone time was rare on its own, but physical affection was just natural in your friendship, even if it made you question everything you’d ever felt before.

Joel, however, felt torn. He was sure his heart was spelling out your name every time it beat. His body and soul yearned for you. He used to freeze up with your touch, but now he couldn’t help but to miss it when he goes without. Yet, it was against his mother’s wishes. It was against God’s wishes. Her opinion was very important to him, and he couldn’t just disappoint her. He couldn’t choose between wanting to please you, or wanting to please her, even if that was an impossible task.

“You know she doesn’t want me hangin’ around you so much.. My mama.” He mumbles, right out of the blue. It makes you pause. Your hands stilling on his sides, fingers instinctively wanting to curl around Joel’s shirt and never let him go.

“I know. It’s why you gotta bring Tommy along everywhere.” You joke lightheartedly, but Joel doesn’t laugh. If anything, he looks pained. The earlier grin was nowhere to be seen. His eyes downturned to your boots caked in mud, only collecting more grime the longer you two are outside.

“She thinks you’re a queer…” He adds as he drops his arms back down to his sides. Part of him doesn’t want to, just wanting your touch to bring him through all of his troubles, but he’s smart enough to know it doesn’t work that way. “Heck, she thinks I’m a queer just ‘cause I wanna be a musician.”

“Well you ain’t.” You huff, clutching his shirt between your fists. Joel steps away from you and pushes your hands off of his shirt, only to smooth the fabric down, trying to prevent it from wrinkling. “Sorry.” You mutter. You’d forgotten all about his mom’s stupid rules. Your mother raised you better than to say you hated someone, but you did. You hated Joel and Tommy’s mom, even if you’d never said it out loud. You hated God. If it didn’t exist, Joel’s mom wouldn’t be all weird!

Joel doesn’t respond to your apology as his eyebrows furrow, a slow sigh leaving his lips. “Are you?” He prompts, nearly causing you to jolt out of your skin. It was such an abrupt conversation change, you wondered just how long this was bothering him for.

“Am I queer?” You question, earning a slow nod. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t know. You’d thought about kissing boys before, yeah, and sometimes the male football players looked better than the female cheerleaders, but that was normal. Everyone thought like that. You knew Joel shared the same sentiment.

Months ago, you and him had a conversation, more akin to gossiping, about “who’s the hottest in school”. From the freshman, to sophomores, to juniors, maybe even a few seniors wormed their way into your lists. Being sophomores yourselves, you thought this was a normal thing every guy did at some point.

“I mean- I dunno.” You confess, automatically feeling anxiety boil bile in your throat, forcing it down with a swallow. “Never thought about it much, I guess. Like- I mean- I guess I’ve thought about you a few times, but haven’t you?” You add on as you stare into Joel’s downturned eyes, almost pleading that he understands where you’re coming from.

Joel remains silent, idly kicking at the dirt underneath his sneakers, squishing a clump or two beneath the toe of his shoe. “You said that Travis B. was hot. In your Chemistry class?” You remind, resting your hands on your hips.

“‘cause he looks like you…” He admits, wringing his hands together. He doesn’t want to hear what you think. This was sinful. He was broken for this. Boys couldn’t like boys. “You think I look like Travis B.??” You echo in slight offense, the comment going right over your head. To you, your classmate wasn’t the most attractive guy, there’s definitely better..like Joel.

“No, you don’t-” Joel pauses with a sigh. “I think you look…nice..” He rephrases as his eyebrows knit together with discontent. He didn’t want to be like this. He hated how he wanted your touch. He loved the way your skin felt against his own. The heat of your body absorbing him entirely each time the two of you cuddled in secret.

“B-But I can’t go against my mama like this. What would Tommy think of it?” He grits out, stumbling over his words slightly. “Your mama ‘n Tommy?” You repeat in confusion. You didn’t really understand. You thought you were having such a good day today and now a bombshell just had to come and ruin it? “Joel, what about you? I mean.. Do you really not wanna see me no more?”

Joel didn’t know what to say. The admission felt like acid on his tongue, but the truth was just begging to burst right out into the open. Awkwardly sliding his hands into the pockets of his pants, picking at the pocket lint inside. He can’t even look at you, and he’s not sure why. Maybe it’s the knowledge that he knows he’ll crumble, just like always. He couldn’t stomach the idea of hurting you.

“It ain’t that simple, Y/N. My mama expects better of me. I gotta set an example for Tommy. What would he think if he saw me lovin’ on you like that?” He clears his throat as his voice cracks, exposing the layers his dilemma runs through. His soul yearned to align with yours, but his mother’s expectations– his church’s expectations– they were holding him back.

“My mama will love you if yours don’t. You know she will. Y’all can just live with me and my folks and…not have to worry ‘bout all that!” You explain optimistically. Unable to resist, you step closer to Joel again, pulling him into a gentle hug, your hand stroking his back–resigning to down strokes only, keeping the shirt wrinkles in the forefront of your mind. You wanted to be selfish. You wanted Joel in your life because it was all you knew.

Joel falters for a moment, hesitantly wrapping his arms around your back as his chin finds its place on your shoulder. His eyes boring into a tree behind you, staring at an old carving in the bark you two made in elementary school.

“That’s…nice of you to say, but it’s different.” He mumbles as he grabs on just a little bit tighter at the possibility that you would part. You smell like a mixture of sweat, dirt, and your laundry soap, but he likes it. More than that, it’s addicting. Its distinctly you, and he craves to savor it.

“You ‘member ‘Jealous Jane’ back in middle school?” You prompt, to which Joel nods against you, shifting him just enough to nestle his face into your shoulder. “And when she got sent off to that camp ‘cause her daddy thought she was weird over her boyfriend?” You continue, earning another nod.

“She came back last year, I guess. She’s in my fourth hour now, but she’s changed. She broke up with her boyfriend and apologized to Molly for bitin’ her over him.” You explain. The memory of the start of the school year felt fresh in your head. “She’s all ‘bout God now. She’s different… and ‘m scared you’ll be like her too.”

“What’d you mean..?” Joel questions, voice slightly muffled by your shoulder. He doesn’t bother to correct himself, finding comfort in your embrace. “I’m scared you’ll get sent away and forget about me. I’m scared you’ll turn into some freakazoid and never talk to me again ‘cause your mama’s worried about us bein’ queer.”

“I’m not gonna just…forget you. That’d be stupid.” Joel scoffs as he leans back slightly, just enough to finally make eye contact again. “But ‘m not gonna disobey ma either..” He adds, leaning back into your warm hug. He needed this, more than anything. Even if his legs were falling asleep from standing still for too long.

Though, the two of you barely have enough time to register the crunching approaching you until the person is finally running away, narrowly missing Tommy’s stupid yellow shirt over the hill. Joel breaks away from you in a hurry, chasing after his younger brother back towards your neighborhood. You just hoped the little brat would keep his mouth shut after you let him play your Mario. You didn’t even want to imagine what would happen back at the Miller household.

With a huff, you slump down into the dirt, your eyes drawn to Joel’s “pistol” stick. You wondered if he would come back with you, or if Tommy just ruined the last chance you had with Joel. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I KNOW IM LATE IM SORRY </333 been so tired recently and fighting with Tumblr every post stg Return to masterlist

[theleomarspt2]

The Lake Date

Cw: Fart/Hyperfart content ahead

It was a warm day, and Lorenzo was enjoying his swim when a handsome young guy setting up his picnic not far from shore had caught his attention. Confindent in his smoohtness, Lorenzo swam back to shore to retrieve his glasses and dry off his hair. The sun glistened against his perfectly toned swimmers body, as his speedo hugged him in all the right places. Lorenzon continued to look at the guy who had called his attention, and he was determined to put him to the test.

As Lorenzo approached the guy, he felt a rumble in his abdomen indicating his stomach was producing enough gas to impress the guy.

"Hey, lovely day for a picnic"

"Uh yeah..."

The other guy looked nervous, not knowing why some handsome man in a speedo was approaching him. As he sat on picnic blanket, he could not take his eyes off this handsome stranger. Something about his slim muscular body and wide smile made him feel approachable.

"Where are my manners? I am Lorenzo"

"I am Chris, I take it you are practicing your swimming?"

"Haha that obvious? And what brings such a handsome guy like you to be eating alone?"

Chris demeanor went from shy to sad.

"Well, I was supposed to be here with someone... but he broke up with me."

Lorenzo saw Chris drawing into himself, and with an understanding expression lowered himself to Chris’ level, putting his hand on Chris’ shoulder.

"Hey man that sucks, sorry to hear that" Lorenzo said, happy to hear that this cute stranger was gay.

"it’s alright I suppose, probably for the best"

"It’s his loss anyway, you’re too adorable a guy to simply let go"

Lorenzo’s compliment sent a shock down Chris’ system. While the sadness from the recent breakup had clouded his mind he could still pick up on Lorenzo’s intentions. With the ball in his court, Chris found a little courage within him.

"Well you know, I did bring quite more food than I could eat and I’d hate to have to take it all back, you’re not some psycho are you?"

"I promise I am not" Lorenzo knew well what his plan was, he could feel it in his stomach, so the question made him giggle.

"that’s good enough for me, if you don’t have anything else to do would you want to join me?" Asked Chris bravely.

"it’d be an honor"

Lorenzo said as he sat down on the blanket, in such a manner that his muscles flexed, trying to impress Chris.

The two men had a candid time, sharing about one another's lives. Chris got to share about how he was trying to move through life despite his shyness, while Lorenzo proved to be the contrary. The confident swimmer spoke about his passion for his job as a lawyer and his love for his more athletic hobbies. In between bites of cantaloupe and prosciutto Lorenzo began to feel a pressure building up against his back end, knowing fully well it was his time to see if this guy could handle all of him.

Both men continued their conversation, with Chris completely mesmerized as he Lorenzo's sweet Italian accent filled the air. With Chris giving him puppy eyes, Lorenzo saw a chance to start the betting process he always put potential partners into. A rumble erupted from his direction.

"Oh excuse me, hopefully this is not too rude but I can't hold it back" He said, and before Chris could process anything Lorenzo scrunched his face.

PBBBBBRRRRRTTT

A five second ripple exploded out of Lorenzo's muscular backside. Whatever moisture leftover from his swim seemed to evaporate. As the fart ripped a strange smell began to emanate from his speedo. It was like garlic, but with a smoky tinge to it.

"Haha my bad, you know, athlete's diet"

"Well.... it is just part of breaking the ice hahaha"

Lorenzo was surprised by how accepting Chris turned out to be of his fart. It seemed like Chris might pass Lorenzo's test afterall.

Both men continued to talk, Lorenzo's fart having loosened up some of the tension Chris was feeling. Just as Chris was about to try his luck at flirting he felt a tremor underneath his body.

PPPPPPPPPPPPFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTT

The subtle ground shaking turned into a sustained rattle that made the picnic blanket flutter. The flowers in the blooming trees that surrounded them began falling to the ground and being blown away before touching the ground, while a flock of nearby pigeons flew away startled by the booming sound emanating from Lorenzo.

"Oh damn... seems like my stomach decide to make a statement" Said Lorenzo quite proudly of the fart he had just ripped.

Holding back coughing, Chris could not help but to double over laughing. He could barely believe the absurdity of the situation. Here was a man who looked as though he had been carved by Michaelangelo with farts strong enough to cause small earthquakes. As bizarre as this was, it had an endearing air to it.

"Well," Chris said between bouts of laughter "That is a way to make a memorable first impression"

Lorenzo's proud expression turned into a mischievous grin. With a spark in his eyes, Lorenzo got closer to Chris.

"Memorable, huh? what if I went bigger next time" He leaned into Chris's ear and with a charming whisper said "Imagine, a serenade from my deepest end just for you... hopefully that way I can leave you breathless"

A rush of blood went to straight to Chris's face. Lorenzo's seductive demeanor, and its contrast with his unique talent, sent a shiver down his spine.

"A serenade? What an honor" he said trying to tease his companion back. "Well, maybe you can clear the park so it can be a bit of a private concert"

Lorenzo was taken aback by Chris's sudden confidence, but just as quickly he regained his composure and decided to take in the challenge. He took a deep breath and allowed for this belly rumble, announcing the production of new gas, ready to cause a ruckus.

As Chris was confidently smiling, Lorenzo reached over to him and pulled him by the back of his head. As Chris was leaned in, Lorenzo leaned in to make their forehead touch.

BBBUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRREEPPPPPPP

A loud, guttural belch erupted from Lorenzo’s mouth and blew back Chris’s hair.

“How’s that for a solo” Lorenzo asked with a smug smile on his face. A few hikers nearby turned to look at the source of the explosion while Chris remained speechless.

“Come with me” Lorenzo grabbed Chris’s hand and and the two walked towards the shore. “See those trees over there?” Lorenzo pointed at the island less than a mile away.

"Watch this" He said, as he turned back to Chris and pointed his butt towards the island. He inhaled deeply, the sound of his breath only rivaled by a roar that moved the top of his stomach towards his lower abdomen. He then proceeded to exhale, from both ends.

PPPPPPPPFFPFFFFFFFBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTT

PPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTRRRRRRRRTTTTTT

Two explosions exited Lorenzo's butt, the threads of his speedo somehow managing to stay together. The first fart, longer and with quite a cresendo, managed to form a considerably-sized wave that rippled accross the late and broke against the island, while the sheer force of it also managed to rustle the leaves in the trees of the island. Nearby swimmers began to try and scape, but were knocked over by the waves created by the fart. Sailboats began drifting away from the shore, and even nearby seagulls were pushed away by the current of wind. Chris simply watched with his mouth agape as the noxious winds from Lorenzo hit the island.

The second fart, while shorter, had deeper sound to it. The sonic boom of it continued to ripple across the water of the lake, but it was the smell of it that was the most impactful. A mixture of digested cheese and garlic, with a strange mixture of herbs that seemed to just have passed through Lorenzo's system made the first couple of birds fall into the water and seemed to turn a few of leaves of the island's trees brown. Lorenzo sighed, before relaxing his body and sitting by the shore, motioning for Chris to join him and contemplating the mayhem he had caused.

Initially stunned, Chris followed through and joined Lorenzo in looking at the the lake as it returned to its once interrupted tranquility.

"Wow" Said Chris "That was some next level"

"Haha I wanted to see if I could impress you, hopefully you're not scared now"

"I think I just need to keep you pleased now" Chris said with a smile on his face and a hand inching closer to Lorenzo's toned thighs. As Lorenzo was about to reach for Chris's hand a major rumble left his stomach, one that even send shivers down his entire body.

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The deafening sound of a chainsaw emanated from the Italian man's butthole. The ground shook with as the sound reached its peak intensity. The force of the explosion sent shockwaves all around him, knocking lake goers down as they tried running away and causing most wildlife to struggle as they tried scaping what felt like the detonation of a bomb.

The fart's volume and odor soon became unbearable, even for Lorenzo who began coughing. He had little time to process the realization that he had finally ripped a fart that not even he could control was interrupted when he saw that a large wave was headed straight towards the island. As the fart began dying towards the one minute and thirty seconds mark, Lorenzo came back into his own mind after the gargantuan fart had taken him out of it.

Soon after he returned to his sense, he realized that Chris was holding to his torso, hugging him tightly trying not to fly away. Part of his clothes ripped from the blast while his face was pressed onto Lorenzo's chest.

"Fuck...... man I am sorry...sorry, the aftershocks are unpredictable."

Chris raised his head, a belwidered look in his face. He soon realized that he was hugging Lorenzo, and retreated into himself.

"Chris... fuck... I am sorry, I understand if you decide to-" Lorenzo was interrupted as Chris's hands held his face and Chris's lips touched his in a passionate yet sudden kiss, which Lorenzo reciprocated with gusto.

Instead of being annoyed, Chris felt a surge of warmth towards the man beside him. He could not stop himself from kissing Lorenzo, a man charisma and a butt capable of clearing a park. What more could a man ask for? As they pulled away from the kiss, Chris put his hands on Lorenzo's thighs.

"Well, your concert was impressive" Chris said smiling "and I hope you accept my request of a private one"

It was Lorenzo's turn to be taken aback by Chris's boldness, but as soon as the surprise wore off he smiled.

"I would love that Chris"

"Say no more" Without hesitating, Chris grabbed Lorenzo's hand and as both men stood up Chris began leading Lorenzo.

"Where?.. Where are we going?"

"First you are tellime where your car is and you are getting your clothes, can't have people looking at your butt after fart" Chris pointed to Lorenzo's backside as his speedo was not shredded and his buttocks were exposed.

"Then" said Chris "My place, I live not too far from here"

The sun shined on their path as the men walked hand in hand towards their destinations, both aware that a new beginning was brewing for the two of them.

Disclaimer: I do not own the pictures I used, the story described is 100% fictional.

Shout out to: @smellystars and @gassydumbjocks for giving me feedback while writing

[iho6hi2]

Unspoken Rizz.

Type: Drabble, Oneshot

Pairing: Isagi Yoichi/M! Reader

Summary: Isagi was never the type to get frustrated over petty shit talk, but you prove to be a special kind of exception.

Warnings: Degenerate Flirting, One-Sided Dislike, Enemies to ???, Unresolved Tension, gay bitches

Word Count: 1,890

A/N: theyre so LAME 🫥🫥🫥

*Du bist ein Blödian - you're an idiot

"Only one goal against the U-20? You'd think the superstar on the rise would be better, but he's barely keeping up." Isagi overhears you talking about him to a less notable player of Bastard München.

Recently, Isagi kept seeing and hearing more of you. When first introduced, you didn't speak a word of importance and value to him, just the simple greetings with the regular dose of stiffness and unfamiliarity he had expected and returned.

Then like a switch that's been flipped, one morning you slap him in the face with headstrong, criticizing and bitter comments. He was confused, baffled and a little speechless to say at the very least.

You two clash gazes and your smile impossibly widens, while he pinches his eyebrows together. He decides to be the better man and just nods his head politely while looking away from you.

Isagi isn't one to pick fights. He isn't the type to argue with people unless he was bitten without provocation first, but other than that, Isagi doesn't actively seek butting heads with others for whatever reason, nor does he enjoy it.

So, he couldn't help but allow your little snide remark to get under his skin and boil his blood slowly from within him.

He wouldn't admit it, over his dead body would he confess something as pathetic as that, but it did make him look back on the game and think about whether or not he could have done something more, and truthfully, he really could have. But he was still proud of his game and hearing someone diminish his hard work made him angry.

He shouldn't be, he was surrounded by assholes. Both figuratively and literally. Isagi should know better, you were no different than players like Kaiser, Rin, Barou... hell even Karasu. The same shit-eating grin, sly eyes and pompous attitude.

And with that set in stone, he let it go. Isagi continued on with his training, not thinking about you and that smug mug and smart mouth of yours.

★

Isagi was reviewing the latest rankings. Noa had updated everyone's current standing and Isagi smiled when he checked his status, he was higher up now! He was slowly climbing up the rankings and surpassing in numbers even regulars from Bastard München.

"Your physicals are still trash. Go hit the gym," amid his ignorant bliss, your voice booms directly in his ear. Your breath fans his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He whips his head around so quick he was pretty sure even you could hear the slight cracking noise.

He frowns and grits his teeth and almost froths at the mouth upon noticing how pleased you seemed with his reaction. "Shut the fuck up."

In one way or another, you remind him of a vulture. Preying and biding your time to devour him, but perhaps he's giving you way too much credit with just this analogy alone.

You roll your eyes, your smirk never once falling off. "Brains alone won't get you anywhere, go run the treadmill and lift some weights." You advise, all the while ill-mannered.

"We'll see about that. I'll beat you," Isagi replies confidently. He stands his ground firmly, staring into your eyes.

You whistle, unimpressed. Bemusedly, you say, "That was lame, did you make that up on the spot or have you been practicing it for a while now?" It's not exactly a question, he knows that perfectly well, but Isagi still feels compelled to answer, to have the last word.

"Trying to act cool and unbothered isn't the way to win a confrontation, [Last Name]."

You chuckle and it feels entirely out of place coming from you. "What movie on Earth did you escape from? Are you delusional or is that just another one of these group symptoms that Blue Lock gives you?"

Isagi sighs, you were hopeless. He can't deny the fact that you were good, but he can't understand why you only spoke to him and him alone in that patronizing way. He's seen how you behave around Kaiser, Ness and the other less talented players on the team and they've never once appeared displeased to his degree.

"What's wrong with you?" Isagi asks out of the blue, voice not exasperated, just inquisitive.

You blink, the corners of your mouth twisting downwards for a split second. As if self-conscious of frowning around him, you immediately smile. "What's wrong with me are those ugly cleats you got on."

"But we're wearing the same exact pair."

"Look how you're copying my style, though. That's crazy, though."

Isagi sucks in a breath, walks around you and resumes his daily routine. Meanwhile you continue to stare at him, amused at the silent treatment you were receiving. You could deal with the cold shoulder, makes it more fun.

"You're never gonna be anything." You claim. Isagi turns on his heels and exits the room. You quickly deflate.

Perhaps you couldn't deal with the cold shoulder as well as you thought you could.

★

Isagi wipes his sweat with a towel, sitting his ass on the sidelines, slumping all over the wall. He pants, eyes getting droopy. He was about ready to doze off.

Isagi did extra the exercises in his usual work-out regime. Embarrassing as it is, he did take your suggestion to consideration and decided to run with it. His legs were killing him and his arms felt like falling off, but he thought that it wasn't a waste of his time.

He battled the urge to fall asleep in the in-door gym, unaware of the way you drank up the sight of him from where you stood, all too pleased to see him listening to you in spite of everything that was said and done.

Kaiser glances at you briefly, then clicks his tongue with his usual arrogant expression. Like your subliminal signs of affection were inconveniencing him despite your lack of vocalization.

"When are you ever gonna learn? You make yourself far too obvious," he chastises you with a holier-than-thou voice.

"You think so?" you question, rubbing the back of your head sheepishly.

Kaiser focuses on Isagi's form and discerns the nasty drool escaping his mouth before studying your own awky figure. "Never mind that, he's got shit for brains up in that skull. You aren't any better, either."

Ness chimes in passive-aggressively, "I'd still give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Wow, thanks guys. Love you so much." You reply sarcastically in turn.

Kaiser glares and raises a finger, "Don't say that to me, ever again. You'll make me hurl on the spot." Ness claps at that and you simply marvel at the dick riding.

★

Your shadow looms over Isagi, who refuses to acknowledge you. He preoccupies himself with his half-empty bowl instead, wondering how long you're going to stick next to him, leering down like you're a supreme being and he's a measly flea.

You pull the chair right beside him, plopping your bottom with the least bit of grace he's ever seen. He closes his eyes, shoving a spoonful of food in his mouth as a distraction.

You chortle, splitting a loaf of bread apart and dropping it in your soup. Isagi gags at your method. "Don't look at me like that. It's not like I'm feeding myself steroids."

"You'll need them to beat me." Isagi bites back at you even if you easily spot the rice grains sticking to his nostrils and the sauce stain on his chin.

"I don't need that shit to kick your ass."

"We can take it there."

"We've already taken it there. Next game, I'll humiliate you live in front of all these dumbasses tuning in and you won't have a shred of pride and dignity left in you." You respond, but for some reason Isagi can't feel the characteristic hostility, instead there was a rhythmic lilt to your tone.

"You love talking, don't you," Isagi grunts, but he can't find it in himself to frown unlike before. He was getting a bit excited, you're no weakling and the thought of competing against you made him unable to sit still. He wanted to be standing on the field in this very moment, but he nevertheless had to wait.

You stay silent after that, but he could tell you weren't backing down just because of what he had retorted. You squint your eyes and mirth settles once more on your features, "Unfortunately for you, I've always been a blabbermouth."

★

You contemplate drowning yourself in the hot springs. The water is warm, but your shame has your blood running cold.

You have lost against Isagi. Even if for the most part you didn't mean half the things you said, you still had some pride. And yet what little confidence you had left was shattered in mere seconds.

You should have been faster, you should have read the situation first and you should have calculated better. You should have scored that goal, but you ended up as a piece of shit decoy for Isagi, who reveled in his victory.

You look up at the ceiling, blinding yourself. Your ears were getting filled with gross butt water and you felt like a torn-up plastic bag. "I suck hairy ass cheeks, man. Fuuuuuuckk."

"You're not wrong." You pause in your fit, eyes saucers wide as you stare like a deer in headlights. You were suddenly embarrassed, like you were caught doing something appalling.

You dip your head under water and Isagi observes the small bubbles emerging on the surface. "Stop that, [Last Name]! Are you a child to be upset over something dumb like that?" He scolds you and you think that might have been your breaking point.

"Shut up! You're one to talk, you big penis! Weren't you the one sending death threats to Gingerhead via real life? I'm allowed to cry! Real men cry!" You manage out between green snot and you divulge that you were ugliest when you wail.

Isagi parts his mouth, rendered speechless. Not so much because he felt guilty, but because being put so abruptly in such a weird situation made his mind go blank. He couldn't figure out what to do or say to comfort you. Seeing you cry like a baby prompted him to at least try and pacify you a tiny bit. That's what nice people do, right?

"Hey," He reaches out to you, his hand grabbing at your arm to pull you out of the hot spring. You grip his forearm out of the blue, bringing him down, large splashes of water escaping the confines of the small pool. "What the fuck?!"

You cling to his back, semi-strangling him. "Do you really think I'll cry cause of one loss? Especially in front of you? Don't make me laugh! You're not that special. Du bist ein Blödian, Blödian, Blödian." You sneer even if he can't see. Well, you really did cry, but you somehow played it off. You didn't know if he believed you or not, but it's not like it mattered.

"To think I actually felt bad for you..." Isagi's lips twitch into a ghost of a smile.

"Don't pity me!"

"You're a sad man, [Last Name]."

"Eat my horseshit."

At the end of the day, Isagi couldn't stand you. But that didn't mean he couldn't stomach you. You were still annoying as hell, though.

[dragonydreams]

Let's Be Proud Together - Buck/Tommy

Title: Let's Be Proud Together Fandom: 9-1-1 Rating: Teen Audiences And Up Pairings/Characters: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Evan "Buck" Buckley, Tommy Kinard, Hen Wilson, Karen Wilson, Josh Russo Additional Tags: Tommy POV, BuckTommyWeek2024, Pride Summary: It's Buck and Tommy's first Pride together. Word Count: 1,470 Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Reamworks, Brad Falchuk Teley-Vision, Ryan Murphy Television, and 20th Television. Betas: Thank you to @medieshanachie for looking this over for me.

Note: I managed to write one story for @bucktommyweek - Prompt: Pride

Read on AO3

"How is that even possible?" Evan exclaimed, incredulously. "Never?"

Tommy shifted in his seat and asked, "Is it really so surprising that I've never participated in Pride month?"

"Not even working the parade on duty?" Buck asked.

Tommy huffed out a laugh. "You think Gerrard would have allowed his station to work the Pride parade?"

"From what I know about him, probably not. But you never went with friends?"

"Evan, I worked very hard to maintain my image as a macho straight man for a very long time. I didn't even come out until I was in my forties, and then… I don't know, it just never felt right. And I didn't allow myself to have any queer friends as a manner of self-preservation, so that no one would think me queer by association."

Evan pulled Tommy into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry you never felt comfortable celebrating who you are," Even murmured into his ear.

Tommy pulled back and pressed a brief kiss to Evan's lips. "It is what it is."

"But will you go now? With me?" Evan asked, hope shining in his eyes. "I kinda can't wait to show off my hot pilot boyfriend at the Pride Parade; as a member of the community, not just an ally."

"I'd be honored to go and show off my hot firefighter boyfriend," Tommy said, smiling wide.

"Good, because I already told Hen, Karen, and Josh we'd go with them," Evan said.

"Wait, who is Josh?" Tommy asked. 

"Josh Russo, you met him at the wedding." Tommy shrugged and looked at Evan blankly, so Evan continued, "He's Maddie's best friend at Dispatch and very gay. You know, at one poker night, Josh thought she was trying to set us up, and Maddie said she liked him too much to set him up with her brother. I didn't protest that I wasn't into guys, just that she didn't want to set him up with me. We laughed it off and we moved on. I really can't believe it took me so long to realize I wasn't fully straight."

"I guess I'm lucky that he wasn't your type," Tommy said. 

"I'm lucky that I'm your type," Evan said.

Tommy couldn't resist kissing Evan. "You are definitely my type," he said, kissing him again.Then he asked, "So we're going to the parade with your sister's best friend and Howie's best friend, but not Maddie and Howie?" 

"I asked Maddie if they wanted to come, but she insisted that she didn't want to cramp my style for my first out Pride," Evan said, blushing slightly. 

"She's a good sister," Tommy said.

"She's the best," Evan agreed. "Besides, Hen is like my other big sister and Josh and I have hung out without Maddie before. Although I'm not sure if Hen has ever hung out with Josh before. I don't think their paths have crossed much."

"You do know that not all queer people know each other, right?" Tommy teased.

"Ha. Ha," Evan said, dryly. "Yes, I did know that. I just think it's interesting that they both know Maddie and Chimney but haven't all hung out together."

"Maybe they have and you just weren't there," Tommy suggested. 

"Maybe," Evan conceded. 

~~*~~

The night before Pride, Tommy spent the night at Evan's so that he'd already be there in the morning when everyone gathered at the loft.

Evan was laying on his side, watching him, as Tommy drifted awake. 

"How long have you been doing that?" Tommy asked. 

"Not too long," Evan said. He leaned over to brush a quick kiss against Tommy's lips. "Happy Pride."

Tommy grinned and pulled Evan into a deeper kiss. When they broke apart, both a bit breathless, Tommy said, "Happy Pride."

"Let's get showered. They're going to be here in like an hour," Evan said, bouncing out of bed. 

"You go ahead, I need a few more minutes," Tommy insisted. 

Evan pouted adorably. "You don't want to join me?"

"Not if we only have an hour until we have company," Tommy said, waving him off. "Go shower. I'll get started on coffee."

Twenty minutes later, Evan came down the stairs dressed in blue denim shorts and a tight pink tank top. 

Tommy felt his jaw drop as he watched Evan descend the stairs. 

"Like what you see?" Evan said with a smirk. 

"Very much so," Tommy said. "Come here."

Evan quickly circled the kitchen island and stepped into Tommy's open arms. Tommy pulled him close and kissed him very thoroughly. 

Reluctantly, Evan pulled back. "Your turn to shower."

Tommy sighed, but headed for the stairs. He showered quickly and dressed in blue jeans and a tight white tee shirt. 

As he descended the stairs, he heard laughter. From multiple people. He watched Evan lick his lips when he caught sight of Tommy. 

"Damn, my boyfriend is hot," Evan said. 

"Mine, too," Tommy said. "Hey, Hen. Karen."

"Hey, Tommy," Hen said. 

"I'm not running late, am I?" Tommy asked. 

"No, we're early," Karen said. "I promised Buck I'd paint him before we headed to the parade."

"Paint?" Tommy asked, eyebrows raised. 

He looked more closely at the two women. Hen was dressed in white pants with an orange and pink top and Karen wore a beautiful sundress in the colors of the lesbian flag.

They also had flags painted on their cheeks. 

"Did you want the bi flag or the rainbow flag?" Karen asked, the question clearly directed to Evan.

Evan glanced up at Tommy before returning his attention to Karen. "Let's go with the bi flag on my cheek and a rainbow flag on my left bicep."

Hen came over to stand beside Tommy as they watched Karen get to work.

"How 'bout you?" Hen asked Tommy. "You up for a little paint?"

Tommy shifted uncomfortably. He supposed that was the question. Was he up for publicly declaring his sexual orientation? 

"You know you don't have to," Hen was quick to add. "No one here, or there, will be upset if you don't. I know just going is a big step for you."

"Did Evan tell you that?" Tommy asked.

"He didn't have to," Hen said. She bumped her shoulder against his. 

A knock at the door delayed Tommy's need to make a decision right at that moment. Tommy went to open the door to the last member of their party. "You must be Josh," Tommy said, allowing the man into the apartment.

"I'd be offended that you don't remember me from the wedding, but as I recall, you were exhausted and met a lot of people that day," Josh said. "You, on the other hand, were extremely memorable." He looked Tommy up and down. "For more than one reason."

Tommy closed the door behind Josh, watching as he joined the others at the table. Josh was wearing a Hawaiian shirt in the colors of the gay flag with khaki pants. He already had a rainbow flag painted on one cheek.

Karen was just finishing the rainbow flag on Evan's arm when Tommy joined them. 

"I guess I can't be the only one without paint," he said with a sigh. 

Karen squealed excitedly. "What do you want?"

Tommy thought about it for a minute, his eyes running over Evan's upper body. 

"Can you do a rainbow on my arm, same as Evan's? Well, a little lower?" Tommy asked. 

"You've got it," Karen said. "Sit down."

Tommy reached out and Evan took his hand. Evan was smiling widely. 

"You guys are too cute together," Josh observed. Then he lamented, "Why are all the good ones taken?"

"Maybe you'll meet someone today," Evan said, optimistically. 

"Unlikely," Josh said. "But you never know."

"You really don't," Evan agreed, eyes returning to Tommy.

"There we go," Karen said, finishing with a flourish. "I just need to rinse out the brush and we are good to go."

They all stood and Evan was practically vibrating with excitement. 

"Has everyone put on sunscreen and used the bathroom?" Hen asked.

"Seriously?" Evan asked. "When did you become everyone's mom?"

"Do you want those large, muscular, arms to get sunburned?" she countered. 

"Good point," Evan conceded. He went into the downstairs bathroom and grabbed a bottle of sunscreen. "Probably should have done this before doing the paint."

"Just go around it," Hen said. 

Tommy and Evan applied the sunscreen to their faces, necks and arms. Tommy held the bottle out to Josh, but he said he was all set. 

"I'll just use the bathroom upstairs," Evan said. "Feel free to use this one."

They all took turns using the facilities, knowing it would be many hours before they'd be near a bathroom again. 

Finally, everyone was ready to go. 

"Let's go show them how first responders do Pride," Evan said, excitedly as they headed out the door.

[millie-mar]

i think i’m in love with you

in which Eddie believes that gay men can be friends with straight guys without there being any subtext to their relationship. duh he’s got a friendship like that! well, had. guess he was proven wrong.

part 2

read part 1

a/n: soooo i think i’m in love with you won in the votes, therefore i deliver to you the rest of the story! in my head this is the finished product, but in near future i could probably write shorts of some adventures they have and parts of their journey :) also i wanted to thank everyone who voted, hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

| 1869 words | modern!steddie | bestfriend!steddie |

Our lips move in a rushed manner, but it’s nothing too heated. It’s more like we’re too scared to go too far, as if we’d cross the invisible line that exists between friends. Many friendships have kept going after kissing in the spur of the moment, and I’m sure our will too. This is just to prove him wrong. He can’t be in love with me and that’s what I’m showing him. Except, his hands let go of my face and take a trail down my neck, chest and to my hips, grabbing them with need. He pulls my body even closer to his, an involuntary moan escapes me and causes Steve to stop. I open my eyes slowly. His hair’s disheveled, lips spread, panting, and his eyes are focused on my face. I see nothing else but the warm brown oh his eyes, they’re sparkling in the darkness of my room. Our close proximity makes my heart flutter, as the smell of coffee and vanilla hovers in between us.

I open my mouth to speak when the sound of the main door opening breaks the silence. Gareth.

“Fuck.” I can feel my head spin as the realisation dawns upon me. I’m standing in my room with my best friend, chest to chest, breathing heavily, with a hard on. This is not a normal best friend behaviour. And I know Gareth will give me a handful if he catches us like this. I quickly grab Steve’s hand, taking him to my bed. I push him to sit down, and he looks up at me, blinking really fast, confusion written out on his face.

“Eddie, this is a bit-“ I cut him off with a finger on his lips.

“Gareth’s back,” I lean forward and whisper in his ear. “Now lay down, pretend you’re asleep and stay quiet. I’ll think of something.”

I straighten up, ready to walk away, but Steve grabs my hand. I send him a look that screams please just do it and that gets him to let go.

I leave the room, hearing Steve sigh and the shuffle on the bed as I close the door behind me. I let a tired sigh escape me and lean on the door. I feel someone’s eyes on me and look up to see Gareth staring me up, arms crossed.

“What’s up man.” His voice snarky.

“Fucks sake, Gareth. You a fucking rogue or something.” My comparison made him scoff.

“God you’re such a nerd.” These words make me want to throw an uno reverse card in his face but I stop myself, seeing the way his eyes stay on me, scanning my face. He always does that whenever he suspects I brought someone home. It’s our house rule; one night stands are not allowed. Gareth and Jonathan witnessed all of my ‘partners’ walks of shame and one day they said they had enough, too uncomfortable with the looks each one of the guys gave them. “Do you have anything to say?” he continues.

“About what?”

“Don’t play dumb Munson. You know our rule.” The annoyance in Gareth’s voice is quite intimidating. His usual grumpy demeanour is something I’m used to, because I know he’s not actually angry or upset. But right now is different. Gareth’s fed up.

“I do. And I’m not playing dumb. It’s just Steve.” I rub the back of my neck, awkward saying his name after what happened in my room. “He had a rough time with his dad. He’s napping in my room.”

Gareth sighs. “Eddie.” His tone shifted, worry filling his eyes. “Listen, I think we should have this conversation.”

“What conversation?” I take a tentative step back, conscious of the fact that Steve is not actually asleep in my bed. Plus the walls are quite thin, and who fucking knows what Gareth wants to talk about.

“You need to stop this whole Steve thing.” The words shock me, so unexpected but yet I kind of saw them coming. As if that makes sense.

“What do you mean? What thing?” I chuckle uncomfortably.

“The longing stares. The constant name mentions in any conversation we’re having. Your smiles when he messages you.”

I interrupt him before he goes any further. “We’re just friends. Best friends. Just because I’m gay doesn’t mean I have to be in love with my guy best friend. That’s so stereotypical, I hate that kinda thing. It’s so stupid.” This time I crossed my arms, taking on a defensive stance and tone apparently. Gareth’s forehead is all wrinkly from how much he’s squinting his eyes.

“I never said anything about love,” he points out. And that shuts me up. I let my arms drop to my sides. Eyes wide, staring through Gareth’s head at nothing in particular. Shit. Fuck.

A loud thud erupts from my room, and a whine follows right after.

“Looks like princess’ awake.” Gareth walks off to the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his black jeans.

I sigh, take a deep breath and face the door. My hand reluctantly pulls the handle and the door opens to reveal Steve sitting the floor by the bed, arms on his knees, head down.

“Steve-“ Before I can finish, he stops me with his hand up.

“Eds, I’m gonna go now. There is a lot for you to think about. To be honest, I need to think a bit too. I- I’ll call you…” He stands up, and quickly pats my shoulder as he walks past me. The door shuts, I let a breath out that I didn’t even know I was holding. It’s going to be a long night.

A week has passed, no message or call from Steve came through on my phone. The third day after our talk I began to think that maybe the signal was fucked, but even when I went to town, I got nothing. The temptation to go and see him was overwhelmingly strong. At one point I even found myself walking down the road where his house is, but I stopped my stalker behaviour and went back home. He promised he’ll call, and I respect his boundaries.

This whole situation is so new for us. Ever since the day we were born, we never went through more than couple days without talking to each other; either through text, call or face to face, we have always talked at least once, twice a week. And I’m starting to feel the withdrawal. When I’m out, I think that every guy with slightly longer voluminous brown hair, an outfit straight from the 80s and a sporty build is Steve. I’m beginning to crave his company and saying I’m confused is an understatement. Gareth’s words have been running through my mind; longing stares, name mentions, my smiles. I hate to admit it but this literally sounds like something a high school teenager would do when they get a crush. Never in my dreams would I think that at the age of twenty would I act smitten. And it does feel weird to realise that, but God does it feel weirder to not act this way. I’m so used to being like that with Steve, it feels like my life is upside down now that I’m not stealing glances at his handsome face when he’s not looking my way. Or ‘accidentally’ looking at his ass when he’s walking up the stairs before me. Or playing with his hair when he’s asleep during our movie nights.

That’s when it hits me.

I get off my bed, grab my keys from the bedside table and dash out the door. I run past Gareth and Jon, grabbing my helmet and storm out the apartment. Their startled voices die down as the main door slams shut behind me. The rain’s heavy, making it harder to see anything in the darkness of the night, but it doesn’t stop me from making my way to my bike. The engine starts smoothly so I put the helmet on and ride off towards Steve’s house.

I manage to get there in ten minutes, which is awfully quick, especially when it’s pouring it down. I get off, completely soaked and leave my helmet on the bike. I run up the set of stairs to the front porch of Harrington’s house. It’s like im in a trance, each step is automatic and my fist hits the door as soon as I stop in front of it. Footsteps from within the house get louder and the door opens, revealing Steve Harrington himself. His hair is ruffled, each strand facing different direction. His eyes are slightly droopy, a clear pillow line imprinted on his cheek. He yawns and seems to finally realise I’m standing at the door as his eyebrows shoot up, eyes widen and his lips part, words stuck in his throat.

“I’m not in love with you,” I say quickly before he gets a chance to compose himself.

“What?”

“I’m not in love with you. I do love you Steve, but I’m not in love.” My breath hitches, so I close my eyes and inhale, trying to calm my heart. Steve’s just standing there, staring right into my eyes, waiting. “There is a part of my brain that you somehow occupy. Everyday I think about you. Your smile. Your cluelessness about everything I like. But also your willingness to learn. You always try to enjoy what I enjoy, but if you don’t you’re honest about it. And you’re so kind, and so hot. Like trust me I’m super attracted to you. Have been for a long time now. I’m pretty sure you were my gay awakening. Or maybe that was Brokeback Mountain. Well you definitely had your part in it.” Steve stops my waffling, shaking his head.

“I,” he pauses. “I don’t get it. Don’t get you.” His voice is shaking, and he puts his hand through his hair, bringing back the Steve hair everyone knows.

“I love you with all my heart. But a part of me doesn’t allow me to be in love with you. Doesn’t allow me to hurt you.” I sigh and Steve looks down at his mismatched basketball socks. “But…” His head shoots up, facing me once again, his eyes are sparkling like they were that night in my room. “I want to try. I need to try. For you. And for us.” I smile.

Steve comes out and wraps his arms around my neck, hiding his face in the crook of it. Wet drops fall on my skin and his body is shaking slightly. His heartbeat is faster, mine quickening up to match his pace. I return the hug, my hair dripping on him, his clothes slowly get wetter. But we don’t mind. We’re engrossed in the warmth of each other’s embrace.

“The past week was hard.” His voice rings in my ear, the warmth of his breath on my neck.

“Excruciating.” I add, leaning my chin on the top of his head. “It’ll be even harder from now on.”

“You know me.” Steve looks up to meet my gaze. Our heights are similar, but he’s slightly scrunched up against me. A smirk on his pretty lips. “I love a challenge.”

[rhinestoneposts]

WARNING: Tcest, turtle bros kissing, and a lot of cussing. If that’s not your speed, move on!!

I’m writing a story that has Tcest (RaphXDonnie) and I need some feedback from tmnt/tcest mutuals on how to write this scene properly 😮‍💨

For content: Raph and Donnie shared one kiss a while back, and neither of them have talked about it or done anything about it, just pretending it didn’t happen. Now, they get paired for patrol, and it all blows up.

I was heavily inspired by that scene in brokeback mountain where they aggressively hit and grab each other before having s*x. I feel like something is missing and I really want to capture that masculine, “refusal-to-accept-I’m-gay” kind of vibe. Also, writing kissing scenes is hard… any advice would be much appreciated!

______________________________

The night air hung heavy with humidity, the heat coming up from the city traffic made the mutant brothers’ skin sticky with sweat. It was difficult to tell if there was any activity worthy of stopping for because of Donatello’s consistent run across the rooftops. Since the past few weeks had been quiet on the streets, the team felt it would be better to split into pairs, thus covering more ground with ease. Leo paired himself with Mikey, leaving Raph and Donnie to take the Lower East Side. Neither one gave any indication of opposition towards this decision. As the purple and red banded turtles ran, Raphael stayed a few yards behind Donnie, his brows permanently furrowed together. Finally, Donnie slowed to a stop.

“Hold up,” he said, peeking down into an alleyway. Raphael came up beside him to look. Below them was a couple, their wobbly movements indicating they were intoxicated. The man had a woman a few inches shorter than him pinned to the wall and he was mumbling incoherently, the woman’s incessant shifting and glancing around being the only indication of discomfort. Donnie watched for a moment before he whispered.

“Think it’s a date gone wrong?” Raph merely shook his head as they watched. The two of them sighed when the woman looked around once more before forcing the man into a fierce kiss, her hands grabbing his and moving them over her body.

“More like a date gone right,” Raph retorted before he backed away from the building’s ledge. Donnie clicked his tongue and stood up.

“Hopefully Leo and Mikey are having better luck than us,” he said as he turned to face his older brother. Raph was staring at him with his brows still etched together, but not in his usual angry manner; they had a softness to them, a twinge of concern. His fists were clenched too, which put Donnie on edge. Donnie matched his expression.

“What?” he said. Raph said nothing as his fists tightened. Donnie kept his glare and grabbed hold of the band that came across his chest to hold his bo staff, shifting it a little to a more comfortable position. They stayed like this for a moment, the sounds of the couple in the alleyway below having left and leaving nothing but the hum of the city to fill the air. Donnie wasn’t sure why he looked away first – perhaps the tension got to him more than he would have liked to let on – but he did, and it sprung Raph into action. Raphael stomped towards him, fists finally coming undone as he reached up to touch Donnie.

“What are you-” Donnie looked down at the shorter turtle, his heart starting to race as Raphael’s hands grew frantic trying to find a way to grip Donnie.

“What are you doing- What are you doing-” Donnie spoke quickly as he roughly swatted away Raph’s hands, though they were quick to reach back up again as soon as they were hit. Raph was able to grip the back of Donnie’s neck and pulled him down to his size, their foreheads and cheeks bumping into each other as the push and pull of the two turtles continued.

“Raph, I don’t want-” Raph forced his lips into Donnie’s. Donnie’s eyes shut as he tried to shove him away, separating them just far enough to throw a punch that landed square on Raph’s jaw, but his head swung back, that etched expression unchanged and his hands still having an unrelenting need to have a hold on Donnie. Quickly catching a good grasp on Donnie’s wrist and the back of his head, Raph pressed his mouth into Donnie’s again, this time leaning in to force Donnie to the edge of the rooftop so he couldn’t step back and create enough space for another punch. Donnie let out a sound of protest and hit his free hand into Raph’s shoulder, but to little avail. Raph squeezed his wrist and Donnie’s breath became a fast, heavy pant through his nose before he wrapped his free arm around Raph’s neck, their teeth hitting as Donnie moved his lips aggressively. Raph released his wrist and Donnie was quick to wrap it under Raph’s arm, flattening his hand against his shell to press him in closer. Their kiss became messy as swollen lips fought to be more tightly pressed together. They both panted whenever their lips separated for half a second, both sets of hands moving and fighting for a better position to grip and hold. Donnie’s head was swimming, the sweat on his skin mixing with Raph’s made him nauseous and it took everything in him to keep his knees from buckling. They ended with his hands cupping Raph’s face, their foreheads pressed hard together so he could tilt his jaw away and get some much needed air in through his mouth. Their hot breaths mingled, and it wasn’t until they opened their eyes to look at each other that Donnie moved his hands to Raph’s shoulder’s and shoved him away, causing him to stumble back.

“Raph, what the fuck!,” Donnie screamed, quickly moving away from any rooftop ledge so he couldn’t be pinned again. Raph’s face contorted and he scoffed.

“Oh don’t you fucking start with that high and mighty bullshit,” he shouted with an accusatory finger pointed in Donnie’s direction. “Ya been thinkin’ bout this just as much as I have! Don’t think I haven’t noticed those goddamn stares durin’ training, or at dinner – way to be fucking subtle!” Donnie scowled and shook his head as he threw his arms up.

“Fuck off, Raph! I didn’t want any of this! Whatever this is-,” Donnie made a gesture between them and Raph scoffed again, rolling his eyes in annoyance.

“At least I’m doin’ somethin’ about it! You’re the one pretending like nothing happened-”

“Because we have to!” Donnie shouted back, his palms up and out in defeat. “We can’t be doing this, you know that as much as I do, it’s wrong and- and-”

“You shoulda thought of that before you started kissin’ me like your life depended on it, Don.”

“Fuck!” Donnie screamed as he dropped to a crouch, his grip on his head tightening when he tucked his head between his knees. Raph swallowed and took a deep breath before he swiped the sweat on his forehead with his forearm.

“What do you want?” he asked. Donnie huffed and shook his head.

“We need to stop this. We can’t be doing this. If the others knew-”

“That’s not what I fucking asked, Don, don’t make me ask again,” Raph clenched his jaw but kept his gaze on his brother. Donatello stood up and looked at Raph with his brows furrowed, eyes hooded.

“Ya tell me right now you neva want any of this eva again and I’ll stop,” Raph said firmly, but there was a slight lowering of his voice as the sentence went on, “but it has to be what you want – not whateva the others think or what’s right and wrong.” Donnie’s expression softened as he looked into Raph’s green eyes, his shoulders feeling heavy as they sagged. Donnie swallowed and spoke plainly.

“I don’t want to do anything like this ever again with you.” Raph showed no signs of surprise or disappointment but rather shifted his jaw and gave a small nod before looking down at the ground.

“Alright. Then tha’s that,” he said. They stood there for a moment in silence, Donnie’s face twitching into a frown as he stared at the ground as well. Suddenly, Donnie’s T-Phone started to ring. He let it play for a few seconds before answering.

“Hey, it’s pretty dull over here. How’s it going for you guys?” Leo asked over the phone. Donnie cleared his throat before responding.

“Nothing much. Other than a run-in with some Purple Dragons. Got one good hit on Raph before we took them down,” Donnie said, earning a glare from Raph for how easily the lie slipped off his tongue. Mikey was heard in the background on Leo’s side making fun of Raph for getting hit by such an easy opponent.

“Alright, I’m thinking we pack it in for the night. See you at home,” Leo said before hanging up the phone. Donnie slipped his phone into his belt and waited a second before making eye contact with Raphael, who was glaring back and gently rubbing at the blooming bruise that was starting to form on his cheek.

“Sorry,” Was all Donnie said before they turned and started on their way home.

[truly-morgan]

[No Curse, Sukuna and Megumi fuck Yuji (18+)]

SukuIta + FushIta| Jujutsu Kaisen No Curse AU + cw: incest 18-05-2023

[#sukuita + #fushita, Double Penetration, twincest, no curse AU]

"Suku-nii stoop" Yuji whined, although he did not try to move away from his brother, "Megumi will be here soon, we can go all the way" he continued.

"Don't worry brat, we'll be done way before he arrives, after all, look at how wind up you already are" Sukuna mocked, a finger caressing the underside of his erection in a teasing manner. "And your ass is trying to suck my cock all the way in, I know you want it" he whispered against his ear, hips barely moving to go in some more.

His grin grew wider when he felt Yuji's hips push back against him some more too.

From over his brother's shoulder Sukuna could see him bite his lips, clearly thinking about it, before he nodded.

"But we have to be quick," he stated.

Sukuna did not need to be told twice, immediately starting a relentless pounding into his brother. They had been teasing and playing around all day, he wanted to fuck Yuji.

Plus he had a little something planned.

He chuckled lowly at the way Yuji couldn't stop his groan and moans, fucking himself back onto Sukuna's cock.

"You should try keeping it down a little, instead of moaning like a whore" Sukuna pointed out, "wouldn't want another noise complaint because someone is being noisy".

This was enough to quiet Yuji, as he had already felt embarrassed enough when their dorm neighbour had talked to them one time.

But it should be alright, he could feel himself getting closer to the edge and he was pretty sure it had to be the same for his brother. They could quickly clean up afterwards and everything would be alright. Megumi would never know.

But then he heard the dorm opening, Megumi greeting them as he looked up from his phone. The young man then froze in the doorway, eye fixated on the twins.

"W-what?!" Yuji reacted, suddenly trying to pull away from Sukuna to hide under his cover. Yet strong tattooed arms looped around him, keeping him from doing anything.

"Sukuna let go now" Yuji hissed, feeling a bit panicked when something seemed to catch his friend's attention down the hall.

This made Megumi come inside the room, locking the door by habit.

Then everything was silent, Yuji still trying to pry away his brother's arm, biting his lips at how he was still buried deep inside of him.

"I-I thought you would come at 7pm" Yuji mumbled, not looking up at his friend, afraid of what look he would get.

"You texted me to come earlier" Megumi replied, although he soon started glaring at Sukuna who was giving him a shit-eating grin.

"Sukuna!!" Yuji reacted when he finally connected the dot, trying to turn towards him.

"I wanted to keep having fun and your stupid homework session was going to break that" Sukuna replied, giving his twin a kiss as if to apologise.

"Plus, I know you've been wanting to have an emo boy over there fuck you too" he teased, looking back at Megumi who clearly looked affected by this situation.

He knew very well the young man also wanted Yuji (who wouldn't really). And it was painful watching them play gay chicken.

"So why don't you join us, Fushiguro" Sukuna asked, letting his head rest on Yuji's shoulder.

Megumi stared between the two of them, looking unsure of how to react to all of this. First about finding his best friend (and crush) being fucked by his own twin. To be frank, he had always found the twins' relationship really odd, this was somehow both surprising and not.

But secondly to find out that Yuji had also been wanting to have sex with him. He had not realised that the young man felt the same about him.

He quickly ran the situation in his mind and decided that he could ignore whatever the two had right now. He dropped his bag onto the floor, walking closer to the stand in front of Yuji who didn't dare to look at him.

"Do you really want that?" he asked.

Yuji bites his lips once again at the question, before nodding to answer. Immediately he was being kissed by Megumi, to which he replied enthusiastically.

Sukuna watched for a while as Megumi disrobed while making out with his twin, although it got boring really fast.

At least Megumi seemed soon ready to go.

So he changed the way they were on the bed, pulling Yuji with him. While leaning back he could show better where he was connected with Yuji, keeping his legs spread wide.

"Why don't we try something interesting too" he suggested, fingers going to his twin's entrance and easily pushing two fingers in. "Why don't you try and fit inside too? The brat has quite the interesting toys and he's pretty ready for two after I prepared him properly" he explained. "Plus he came so much today I can't tell if he'll still be able to go for many rounds".

Megumi had to start climbing onto the bed, watching the way Sukuna's fingers were stretching Yuji even farther than his dick already did. He then looked up at Yuji who look flustered at being put on display like this and at his brother's idea. Clearly, he had not expected that suggestion.

"Are you okay with that?" Megumi asked.

Yuji then seemed to think about it for a moment, before nodding shyly. He knew what kind of toy he had and he was certain it could fit in. He also was curious as to how it would feel than to have two cocks inside of him.

Megumi didn't need that much more to be convinced. He did try to stick his finger in too just to make sure, although he could tell Sukuna was not lying. Neither did it seem to hurt Yuji much.

So he lined himself up and slowly started putting it in. He hesitated when he saw Yuji's brow furrow, ready to just pull out. He was surprised when he instead felt a leg loop around him, not allowing him to pull out.

"It's okay" Yuji assured him, "Just go slowly".

Megumi nodded at this, continuing slowly as he instead started to touch Yuji in an attempt to distract him, imitating what Sukuna was doing.

He groaned when he felt Sukuna move inside of Yuji, looking up when Yuji moaned at that.

"You enjoy being filled to the brim by your brother and your best friend, brat?" Sukuna asked with an amused grin, nibbling at Yuji's neck.

"Yeah," Yuji answered honestly.

"Then let's see if our friend can make it even better for you" he continued, looking at Megumi from the corner of his eyes.

The message was pretty clear. Megumi still hesitated a little as he moved, eyes scanning Yuji's face for any signs that he wanted to stop. Instead, he only saw him groan and moan, also tentatively moving his hips over them.

Soon they all found a rhythm that worked, Megumi slowly lost himself in the sensation and pleasure. He would never have thought that one day he could possibly be feeling like this while in the presence of Sukuna, but he assumed that it would be impossible without him (and a little voice in his head was telling him Yuji wouldn't let anyone else than them do this to him).

He would something look down, somehow just amazed at how well Yuji was taking them both, finding it surprisingly hot. He sure hope this wouldn't awaken something that would require Sukuna to be with them all the time now.

The way Yuji felt so tight around them. The way he could feel Sukuna's cock slide and rub against him inside. Finally being able to touch Yuji all he wanted, kissing him all he wanted (even though Sukuna seemed possessive of receiving as many kisses from Yuji too).

"Fuck" he gasped out when Yuji suddenly started tightening around them even more, spasming around them as he came all over his stomach.

"Shit, so tight" Sukuna mumbled against his twin's shoulder, movement more stuttered than before.

They were both not very far behind Yuji, filling him up. When they finally pulled out nothing would stay in Yuji's gaping hole, slowly leaking out of him.

"Fuck this was good" Sukuna commented, kissing up Yuji's neck to his temple. "You did so well for us, brat" he commented.

Megumi wasn't sure what to do at the display, watching as Yuji nuzzled back against Sukuna at the praise.

"You did good too" Sukuna added towards him, pulling him closer to kiss him, although it was nothing sweet like he would give to Yuji.

Now that he was leaning closer over Yuji he found himself pulled even closer, Yuji hugging him closer to him, demanding kisses too.

He allowed himself to be pulled farther into the bed afterwards, Yuji still looking a bit dazed and tired from what they did.

He stayed for the cuddle sandwich, Yuji looking really pleased to have them both so close.

Megumi assumed he could deal with Sukuna if it meant seeing Yuji happy and satisfied like this.

Original

[pynkhues]

Did I misread your tags or did you recently see The Apprentice? If so, do you mind sharing your thoughts both on the film and on Jeremy Strong’s performance (or just the performances generally)? I’ve heard mixed things on the film but as a succession fan I’m always rooting for Jeremy haha

Ah! You didn't misread, I saw it last night!

And yeah, mmm. I'm still making my mind up on the film overall? I'm really glad I saw it and I think Ali Abbasi is a very technically skilled director and one who had a clear vision for the film. He plays around a lot with different styles, so there are points where it looks and feels very slick, but also times where it feels like you're really watching home movies or a reality show or a news feature from the late 70s/early 80s which does a lot of impressive work in terms of both embedding you in the era and foreshadowing other parts of Trump's life. It's a really cool technique, and works really well in letting this slice of Trump's life (because it really is a slice that literally begins with him meeting Roy Cohn and ends with Cohn's death) still feel like a part of a whole without getting bogged down in the familiar pitfalls of a biopic.

Jeremy's really incredible in it, and I mean, some of the reviews have already said this, but his ability to find the humanity in morally bankrupt, soulless men and embed that in his performances continues to be pretty unmatched. Roy Cohn is depicted as unequivocally evil in the film, but his downfall and death is shockingly affecting, and a lot of that comes down to Jeremy's performance. I actually think one of the most interesting themes the film explored too was Cohn's sexuality and his relative openness with being gay, yet his absolute willingness to weaponise other people's sexuality and actively harm the gay community. I don't think we actually get that many depictions in film of the 'fuck you, I got mine' minority leader, and the film does a really good job of depicting that with Jeremy's Cohn.

The depiction of Trump though is probably what I have an overall issue with (and, of course, the timing of the film's release). It does show him to ultimately be a pathetic husk of a man with a nose for opportunity who only really succeeds due to his father's money and Cohn's guidance, but I don't know. That might be the man Trump is, but it doesn't really make for a compelling film? I think a part of my issue is probably with Sebastian Stan's performance. I generally like him as an actor, and I think he does a really good job of capturing Trump's mannerisms and evolving into his way of speaking, but I kind of got the feeling that he didn't understand Trump, which left the performance feeling kind of shallow? It was especially stark against Jeremy's performance because like I said, he was able to depict Cohn as the monster he was while still finding a thread of humanity to hold to which made me still loathe him, but also left me feeling like I understood him.

I think the film's approach to Trump was that there's really nothing to him, which begs the question of why make a movie about him at all? The timing of course implies something, however you want to read it, but I don't know. I don't think Maria Bakalova had much to work with in playing Ivana either (although I think she did the best she could with what she got), but yeah, I think perhaps a stronger actor could've done more in the role of Trump, but I also think the movie wanted him to come across as pretty empty, so - - yes. I'm still making my mind up, haha.

[chaotic-aro-incarnate]

10 BL BOYS I WILL THROW HANDS FOR

Was tagged by @scarefox for this (technically my main blog but I post my bl stuff on here lol) and am very excited

I imprint on characters like nobody's business so this is a list made for me

EDIT changed the gifs because apparently the way I did it didn't properly link to the creators (only on desktop at least). should be properly credited now

In no particular order

1) Sound (My School President)

Starting the trend of lonely queer teenagers that I get a little too attached to, it's of course Sound. Like I was already a fan of Sound and intrigued by the concept of SoundWin (at the time people didn't know it was going to be the main secondary ship) but when the medal scene happened and Sound gave this so sad ans soft "oh no" look I was gone. That is my son and I WILL fight anyone and everyone for him

2) Nuengdiao (Never Let Me Go)

Another lonely queer teenager I decided to protect. I loved Never Let Me Go so much and Nueng was my special little babygirl and then Our Skyy 2 came out and it was like oh...... I will kill for him. Look I love Nueng and he did nothing wrong and also that scene where he's forcing Palm to put the gun to his head while screaming at him to shoot him leaves rent free in my mind. He's so traumatized and lonely and he's like 18 I would do anything for him especially throw hands

3) Typhoon (Star in My Mind)

Fun fact! I had to stop watching Star in My Mind because I got so unreasonably attached to Typhoon that I couldn't bear the thought of him not getting a happy ending. I wanted him to end up with Dao so bad because it would make him happy and I knew that if I kept watching they would either break his heart OR show that he's actually not that great of a guy, both which were unbearable to me. So I simply cut my losses and live in the fantasy that he got everything he ever wanted.

4) Bai Lang (My Tooth Your Love)

One of those "he just like me fr fr" characters who I would do anything for. He's my specialist little boy and I love him so dearly. Here's to having your trauma swag bewitch the local hot autistic dentist body and soul.

5) Han Ying (Word of Honor)

Talk about my specialest boy. Ying'er is my guy through and through. He deserved so much better and in every WoH fic I have written (they are all still in drafts) he lives and is happy no matter what. He IS my sweet cheese, my rotten solider, my good time boy. I will continue writing him getting railed to the high heavens by Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing like he deserves. He is incapable of being anything other but the goodest boy possible and I will die on this hill

6) Boston (Only Friends)

He is the worst. I would move mountains for him. Enough said.

7) Pluem (Ghost Host Ghost House)

Look this man has been going through it AND he manages to be the like the most flirtatious and romantic guy around? Give me your secrets sir. Also say the word king and I'll do it. This show broke me on so many levels but a lot of those levels were tied to anytime I saw him break down

8) Ye Huo/Fire (Guardian)

A recent (and somewhat obscure) pull as I am currently watching Guardian and was just exposed to his character today but he is my guy and I will defend him to the death. The only weaker point for me than a lonely gay teenager is a self appointed older sibling who sacrifices everything for their younger siblings. I was really like man this guy is an asshole for so long but then the truth of how he was saving the boys at the fighting ring came out and I was like oh no that's my son now and I need him to live and be happy. I have not finished his arc yet so I am scared that it'll be a tragedy BUT he is my wonderful son all the same and I will throw hands for him in an instant

9) That (Manner of Death)

The return of troubled teenagers I need to adopt and protect against all costs. I WILL fight anyone for him even though he's like a rebellious teenager who does crime and I am a strange looking college student who he would not respect but it's the thought that counts

10) Mark/Village Head Ma (Love Tractor)

Why is there a random white man living in rural South Korea? I don't know!!! They never address what he's doing there. But I literally love this man. There's a reason I made him to be my pfp for bl-bracket. Seriously he's the best and I will fight anyone who says otherwise. Best character ever written. In my heart he's got the spirit of Quincey Morris form Dracula in the long tradition of just having a random American man in your story with no explanation

Tagging others!!!!! @saturnskyline @non-binarypal7 @supernovasimplicity @vegussy and anyoen else who wants to!!

There's been so many of these types of challenges/tag things lately that I have not kept track of who has or hasn't done which ones so sorry if you've already done something similar

[vampthropologist]

X-men 2 was alright. I had fun but the way the women were treated (ESPECIALLY Mystique) peeved me.

The gay subtext is written on the fucking floor in this one. Dear god. Also I’m adding Jason’s illusion girl self to that. I do believe estrogen could have saved her.

More under cut I wrote so goddamn much

Storm being allowed to be feminine and mad is cool but also can you not just be mad and care about children? I want to know more about you as a person.

Nightcrawler is awesome. I love freaky little Catholics <3

Mystique made me SAD. She barely got to speak as herself, stood off the side as Magneto talked with only her CHEST in frame!!!! When she pulled that shit with Logan I felt sad because she is trying so hard for any man’s attention or affection. It feels like she wasn’t allowed or didn’t let herself mature, instead continuing to be used by others and is denied personhood unless she thinks she is being valued in a sexual manner. I guess. God. She makes me so sad.

Jean wants her cake and doesn’t want to be poly. Scott really cares for her, the poor guy. She cares for him too, but typical fucking love triangle bullshit is also occurring. Logan’s little head wiggle when saying, “I can ve the good guy” LIVES IN MY HEAD RENT FREE.

Let’s talk about Logan, yes? His story arc is good. I like how he is forced to face a past he does not remember, going from willing to do anything to remember to accepting it. I appreciate how he protects the kids. Him taking a drink out of random person’s fridge and getting caught is funny as hell. Deer in headlights ass. He is a little goofy and I love it. AAAAAAA. He’s so fuckiiiinnngggggggggg WAUGHGHGGGGGHH. I’M CRAZYYYYY. AAAA. Also my dad kept talking about his muscles looking good and wanting to see him shirtless and I… was thankful he wore a tank top because he looks comfy in it. And also didn’t fucking care because so many buff superheroes exist in screen and so many actors are dehydrated as fuck for those roles I legitimately do not care to see that. Especially for a man.

ermmm who else. Jason made me sad. They left him to die. Stryker’s a piece of shit. I’m glad they let him freeze to death. Yoriko deserved better. I would have liked to see her not mind-controlled for a bit at least. Another woman without agency in this fucking movie. Her fight and death was cool and poetic at least. Rogue should have worn a onesie to bed I don’t careeeee that it’s not a dainty little nightgown it is cute and functions with her powers. Girl imagine you get up and bump into somebody in the morning and you both fall or something. Then they DIE. No bueno. Idgaf about teenagers wanting to make out.

ok that’s it.

[skaruresonic]

Summed up in two images:

Part of it might be the hipster urge to go "um ackshually," but for me personally, it's being sick of seeing Lancelot everywhere even when it doesn't make sense for him to be there and how gassed up he continues to be after a literal millennium.

My problem with Lancelot is twofold:

1.) He usurps the roles of other characters, including Arthur himself.

Cai was once Arthur's right-hand man, a loyal and shrewd if sarcastic guy, but Lance's influence slowly flanderizes him into a buttmonkey (Percival knocks him out for merely startling him and Gawain's like "welp" as he lays there unconscious) that is so coarse and lacking in manners that Arthur chides him for it. Really ironic, considering it's Arthur who insults Cai into leaving forever in Culhwch and Olwen.

Bedwyr was Cai and Arthur's steadfast companion, a handsome one-handed knight skilled in battle.

However, whenever authors want to include a cheating subplot without revealing too much of an attachment to French romances, they simply hollow Bedwyr out and make Lance's spirit possess him instead:

Which is an insult to Bedwyr's original character, and doesn't even make logical sense since A.) a casual reading of Culhwch and Olwen will reveal that Cai and Bedwyr were hella gay for each other:

...and B.) Cai's right there? Gwenhwyfar sings his praises in The Dialogue of Melwas and Gwenhwyfar?

https://www.maryjones.us/ctexts/melwas.html

Llacheu, Arthur's son, is implied to be a fine warrior and one of the island's best naturalists alongside Gwalchmai (Gawain). He gets sidelined because Lancelot needs to be the big hero:

Arthur himself used to be Britain's resident ass-kicker until Lancelot's inclusion necessitated that he assume the role of a passive cuck. Because twagedy.

tl;dr Classic Gary-Stu being so awesome and important that the narrative makes everyone else look like a weenie problem.

Spicy take incoming, but retelling the same cuckoldry tale over and over again for 900 years and pretending it's hot shit this time around because the anachronistic French knight running around Britain circa 530 AD (Norman invasion whenst?) is now smeared in mud or the cheating is moved two inches to the left isn't creative. I don't find it particularly new or exciting whenever the narrative feels the need to include it just to include it for sake of audience recognition, especially if it shrugs and sighs "Arthur's not even pressed about it." What's the point, then?

It's tedious. It's tiresome. I get bored just thinking about it.

And that's before all of Lancelot's self-flagellation.

---

2.) Lancelot has little reason to be in Welsh tellings, yet authors are so attached to this one plot thread of "best friend betrays the king by sleeping with his wife" that they cannot let it go for the life of them.

This drives me up a freaking wall. Even Arthuriana that purports to be historical or more grounded in Welsh tales cannot help but include Lancelot, such as Bernard Cornwell's novels or the 2004 Clive Owen movie.

Even in iterations where he's not there in the flesh, he's there in spirit, latching onto the closest analogue, because obviously we have to have a cheating subplot. /s

I'm of the firm belief that cheating is not a necessary element to paint the chain of events that culminate the Battle of Camlan as a tragedy. There are many equally relevant elements worth fleshing out and exploring, such as the blow Medrawt struck the queen (Welsh Triads), the messenger Iddawg stoking war by ferrying false messages between Arthur and Medrawt (Dream of Rhonabwy), or the climate shift that resulted in the year 536 AD being "the worst year to be alive" and possibly driving everyone mad with hunger and plague (Annales Cambrie).

Within that context, and considering how 537-539 AD is commonly given as the year in which Camlan occurred, suddenly Arthur and Medrawt eating all the food at their respective courts doesn't seem so cartoonish.

What was that experience like? No? we're just gonna have another cheating rerun? okay well fuck me then lmao

all yall that dont like lancelot im curious why

i feel like its a really common opinion and im not really sure why? so like. if u dont like lancelot reblog /reply with why

[transpunkhell]

fuck it just posting my jargyle fic here

i dont have Ao3 so bear with me okay :,) also didnt realize how long this ended up sorry

fluff, confessions, little bit of a j*ncy breakup scene, being gay, LOTS of bong rips and endless weed ;)

--

Jonathan sat on the side of his bed. The moonlight cast a blue hue into his room, lighting his bedside in a melancholy manner. His face rested in his hands, slightly clammy from overthinking and the anxieties that followed. He should have been relieved, he thought to himself, but all he could do was repeat the scene over and over again in his head.

He had wanted to break up with Nancy. College was something he wanted to pursue, and he began to realize after the move to California that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work anymore. He just wasn't expecting Nancy to dump him first. 

Except, he wasn't really being dumped, Jonathan rationalized to himself.

"It's not you, Jonathan, it's...girls. I think I'm more into girls. I'm sorry."

Those words looped endlessly in his mind.

It's not like he was disappointed. Again, he was sort of relieved that he didn't have to be the one to do it. It's just that the more he thought about why he fell out of love with Nancy, the more he struggled to understand exactly what his feelings were.

Jonathan dragged his hands down his face and groaned. He really didn't know how to sort his thoughts on this, and it fucking sucked. He didn't need this right now. He needed something else. He needed-

A familiar honking could be heard from outside.  Immediately Jonathan perked up, donned his overshirt, and ran outside. He probably should've been quieter, considering it was almost 2 in the morning, but the persistent honks had probably woken up the entire street at that point.

Argyle continued to smash the horn even as Jonathan was sprinting towards the ever-so-familiar vehicle. He only stopped once his friend had hopped in and shut the door.

"Why do you have the van dude? Aren't you off right now?" Jonathan asked, a little out of breath from that sprint. It was somewhat normal for Argyle to show up at the house at night, but it wasn't normal at all for him to be so rowdy about it when everyone else was asleep. He was a bit of a klutz, sure, but he didn't usually go out of his way to be annoying. Maybe it was urgent, Jonathan mused to himself, though he sort of wished this could've waited until the morning. 

"I forgot to turn in the keys," Argyle replied, playing with the keychains dangling from the ignition. "Plus, since you're kind of going through some shit right now, I brought you a surprise..."

Argyle reached toward the middle seats, but he seemed to struggle a little. Miffed, he cursed to himself under his breath, unbuckled his seatbelt, then twisted over to reach deeper toward the floor of the van to pull out a brand-new bong and grinder.

Jonathan was too surprised to speak, but Argyle continued. "So uh, I was gonna save this for your birthday, but I think you kinda need it now, so I'm driving us to my favorite place so we can take rips 'till the sun comes up. That cool?"

Jonathan put his hand to his forehead and smiled. "You're my best friend, man," he said. "The best."

--

Jonathan choked on milky-white smoke, struggling to breathe normally after taking such a big rip. He handed the bong to Argyle, who took it like he was impatient for it. He reached over to grab the lighter from Jonathan as well, and went to town. The brief moments of the lighter in action remained their only immediate light source, allowing them to see the smoke rise up the bong's neck for mere milliseconds. He held the hit in for a bit, then let it all out in a chaotic coughing fit. Trying to recover still even after passing the bong back to Jonathan, he laid down to look at the stars.

They both rested on top of the van. Argyle had parked on the shoulder of a cliffside road overlooking all of Lenora Hills. The houses, all nestled in the valley, were scarcely lit to vaguely match the starlit sky above them. It was a mildly-pretty sight as is, but it was a gorgeous scene for a couple of stoners. 

Unfortunately for Jonathan, his mind could only race. The quiet gave him too much room to think about what had happened earlier, and the high only seemed to make the thoughts more intense.

Nancy coming out to him changed something, something in the way he thought about himself. The conversation repeated itself in his mind. 

"How did you know?"

"...Know that I'm into girls?" 

"Y-yeah."

It was insightful, learning how Nancy found out about herself. During the conversation, Jonathan focused mainly on Nancy's feelings and what she had to say. Even if they weren't together, he still loved her as a close friend and confidante. Understanding her and being there for her was important to him, more important than anything else in that moment. 

But it was the way she described it, falling in love while queer. It was hard to recognize it at first, she said, but once she did, she knew she couldn't deny it. Wanting to spend all of your time with that one person, feeling butterflies when they touch you or hang a little too close for "just friends," thinking about what it would be like to tell them that you like them, and wondering the odds on them liking you back-

"Dude, are you even listening?"

Jonathan snapped out of it and looked at his friend, who was sitting back upright. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I was a little lost in thought." 

"Spill it, man," Argyle punched him playfully. "Whatcha got?"

Jonathan put his hand through his hair and moved it down to nervously push on the back of his neck. He couldn't even figure out his feelings while sober, so now his words came out scrambled and disorganized.

"I think, uh, Nancy breaking up with me was good for me and all," he started. "I mean, um, I don't know. It was a good reason. Not that there really needs to be a, uh, reason, especially since I was gonna break up with her anyways. I don't know."

Jonathan lost his train of thought, but it's not like it mattered; he wasn't really saying much of anything, and he probably lost Argyle's attention way before. He took a few seconds to compose his thoughts.

"I think I've got a lot of new feelings to sort out," he sighed.

Argyle got that. He pat Jonathan on the back, causing his heart to flutter. His hand felt familiar, in a way that comforted him like a hug. 

"Like...what?" Argyle asked, his stoner drawl more obvious than usual. His presence brought Jonathan's entire anxious being to a gradual rest. He knew he was safe to speak his mind here, so he took a breath and went on. 

"I've been kind of looking into how I feel about other people. Romantically." 

He paused to check if Argyle was still listening, maybe hoping that he wasn't. He was. In fact, their eyes met in a way that convinced Jonathan that he was getting Argyle's full attention. The bong rips were catching up to him—to both of them, really. Both of their tolerances had gone up from smoking pretty much every day, but the hits from the bong had permeated their bloodstreams in a way that the joints they shared in the past just couldn't compare to. It made Jonathan's next choice of words feel a little more emotionally weighted than he had wanted.

"I'm realizing I might not be so, uh, straight, either." Jonathan sighed and twiddled his thumbs. It should have felt good to confide in his best friend like this; he already knew Argyle was supportive of everything, especially being queer, but his anxiety sunk its fangs into him.

Worry physically manifested in his stomach, shooting toward his body's extremities and forcing the palms of his hands to sweat. His skin itched in anticipation of what Argyle would say next. He worried he was admitting this too openly, that he might've accidentally implied something bad, or even-

"Brooooo." Argyle interrupted his racing thoughts. A sweet smile appeared on his face as he continued. "I was literally thinking the exact same thing."

Jonathan straightened up. The haze in his brain made it hard for him to comprehend it entirely, but the butterflies he felt nearly made him vomit now. 

"Like uh, being gay and stuff," Argyle continued. "Maybe not gay, but like...bisexual or something. I think I definitely like dudes and dudettes all the same, man...but maybe I like dudes just a li'l more."

Jonathan's mind tried to pull back instances where Argyle seemed interested in other guys. He couldn't come up with anything. Not that he needed to, of course, as Argyle's feelings were often an enigma to him, but he couldn't help but try and look for the hints. Any moments of potential yearning, specific discussions, whatever, were being sorted in his mind at light speed.

"How did you find out?" Jonathan asked without thinking. Immediate regret.

"Trust me man, you don't wanna know," Argyle coughed, having just taken another hit.

"Not true," Jonathan countered. "You're my best friend, dude. I'm really grateful for everything you do for me. I'll do the same for you."

Argyle ran his fingers through his long hair, trying to get his words together. In a moment that felt almost out of character to Jonathan, he saw worry on his best friend's face. He reassured Argyle by wrapping his arm around him. Argyle leaned in, resting his head on Jonathan's shoulder. 

The physical contact felt exciting. That moment felt like it could have lasted forever. Argyle was warm, a nice contrast to the nighttime chill, and it only made him want to hold him closer. For a while, even. Jonathan mused ideas of them holding each other in ways they hadn't before, and he found himself yearning for it all.

Fuck, he thought to himself.

The realization hit Jonathan like a truck. His conversation with Nancy popped up in his mind again, as if the thought itself was hammering the nails in the coffin of his heterosexuality. He had a crush on his best friend, and he was crushing hard. Putting those words to his feelings brought a wave of dread over him.

Jonathan tried to reach back in his memories to when this crush started. Maybe it was the time they spent on the road, with the endless stretches of brown and gray in the landscape giving way to loneliness. He reached earlier to when they started smoking together, or when he first met Argyle at Surfer Boy Pizza. He remembered the beating of his heart, the shakiness of his breath, the thoughts that flooded his mind every single time they were together.

He recognized how obvious it was the whole time now, and cursed himself for the new Byers pattern of falling in love with your best friend. He ran through feelings of guilt over whether he was crushing while he and Nancy were still a thing. Was it even rational to feel guilty over this, even after they broke up? Jonathan's anxiety fell into a catastrophic spiral, enhanced by the circular thinking of a heady high.

Argyle cut through Jonathan's thoughts again, but this time it stopped him in his tracks entirely.

"It was kind of you, man."

Three seconds of silence passed as Jonathan tried to pull himself together.

"Wh-what?" he uttered, absolutely dumbfounded. His grip on Argyle tightened a little. 

"Yeah man, I think you're really neat. More than neat, even. Magical." Argyle held the bong close, almost like a stuffed animal. "Like, when we smoke, I want to feel that kinda vibe forever, man."

Jonathan forgot about his breathing. He thought, Did Argyle just say he likes me? Did he just call me...magical? 

He chuckled awkwardly. He instinctually dropped his head to hide his blushing cheeks, but it wasn't like Argyle could really see it in the dark.

Argyle moved away from Jonathan. He anchored his hand in his hair, body language stiffening with visible anxiety. "That's probably, totally a weird thing to say, I know. Sorry dude."

Jonathan's head shot back up, and he responded immediately. "It's not, man. I swear. I mean..."

The high clouded his better judgement, and all he could focus on was the realization that he liked his best friend. He really liked Argyle. He didn't know what he wanted, or what was appropriate to do, but it didn't seem to matter. His impulses decided to take the plunge.

"I think you're kind of..." Jonathan hesitated. "...magical, too."

Argyle's eyes widened. Jonathan could really see his face light up this time, even in the dark, and it made his heart swell with joyful affection.

"You mean that?" Argyle asked.

"I really do."

Jonathan placed a hand on Argyle's thigh. A jolt of excitement—and maybe a little bit of panic—shot through his body. He was a little bolder now than what he was used to, but he didn't care anymore.

"Are we, like, gay for each other?" Argyle blurted. 

They both laughed it off. To Jonathan, it felt like a dream with how easy this was actually going. He thought he was being so awkward right now, but it was with his best friend, so none of that mattered. All that he needed right now was to keep Argyle close.

Argyle placed the bong down and rested his head on Jonathan's lap. The extended physical contact was thrilling now. He brought his hands down to gently comb through Argyle's long hair.

"Hold my hands, man," Argyle mumbled. "I just gotta see if it feels right."

"Okay, man!" Jonathan giggled and intertwined his fingers with Argyle's. His hands were big and cozy, warming up Jonathan's cold palms immediately.

Argyle chuckled to himself, and spoke up again. "Yeaaaahhh," he squeezed Jonathan's hands. "This totally feels right."

Jonathan couldn't get his grin off his face, even if he tried. As they remained close, he took in the ambience of Lenora Hills early in the morning. The first birdsong of the day echoed through the trees. Gentle winds moved past the couple and pushed their hair over their faces. A few more houses in the valley had begun to flick their lights on. The sound of his own breathing, almost in sync with Argyle's, brought a slow rhythm to the moment. 

Finally, at the cliffside, with his newfound love, his mind was at peace. 

[aziraphales-library]

Hello mods! I'm not sure if I've already sent this ask. Found it in my notes but didn't cross it off, so I'm assuming I never sent it. If I did, you're free to ignore this :)

Hi mods!

Whenever I find a human au fic with queer themes, I go in hoping for something not set in modern era and try not to be disappointed every time I'm mistaken. So, do you know of any fic set in the past (could be 1700s, could be 1950s, hell could even be the 80s. Don't mind just as long as it's not set in the 21st century or ancient times) in which A&C are queer in some way and have to deal, at least a bit, with the consequences of being that in that time? Could be gay, trans, or whatever. I just really want to read about them being queer in a world against them and finding comfort in each other. So a happy or at least hopeful ending would be appreciated too.

Thanks in advance! The work you guys do is fantastic <3

Hello! Try the Historical AUmens Collection! There are also tags on AO3 for particular eras like Victorian, Regency, Medieval etc.

Here is an ask with long list of historical recs.

Some more:

Moonlight Serenade (Extended) by TawnyOwl95 [E]

That night the bombers flew out from Tadfield Airbase. They always woke Crowley up, set the dogs barking but tonight they disturbed him long after the night had fallen silent again.

He couldn't sleep until he heard them come back, until he knew if there was a chance Aziraphale was still alive.

Called Up by cassieoh, Liquid_Lyrium [T]

"Bit of a chilly day to go without a jacket," he points out stupidly. He tries not to stare openly at the braces that attractively frame the other man’s chest. Then he remembers his shades are in place, and he feels some tension leave his shoulders.

Fell (terribly ominous name for a pilot, that) goes a little pink in the cheeks, and isn't that something?

"Gave it away," he mumbles under his breath, and it's like a trap door drops out from under Crowley's feet.

Once More, With Feeling by saretton, TawnyOwl95 [E]

1950s. The research continues, but Aziraphale is determined to shake things up.

If only he can find the courage to let Crowley know.

The things one does for science.

All My Heart Is Yours by FeralTuxedo [E]

1847. Aziraphale Fell arrives at Eden Hall to take up his new position as tutor to the young heir. The house is enormous, remote, and its occupants rather strange — but none more so than its master, the ill-mannered but inconveniently handsome Mr Crowley.

Mr Crowley’s gaze lingered on him.

‘Now I see you in broad daylight, I can tell you’re no gentleman.’

Aziraphale bristled. He was wearing his best ensemble, and it was of fine enough quality, if a little rumpled from the luggage.

‘Whereas you certainly look the part, even if your manners suggest otherwise.’

A Victorian human AU loosely inspired by Jane Eyre, but with 50% less angst and 100% less spousal incarceration.

As Time Goes By by teatales [M]

Mr Anthony Crowley was fine with being alone. He had his car and his plants and his career as a travelling salesman, and it was fine. Even with his awful new bosses, he had no plans to quit selling watches anytime soon. What else would he do?

Mrs Aziraphale Ingels had been stuck in Tadfield ever since her husband passed away a year ago. She tried her best not to dwell on how lonely she felt as she filled her days with books and baking while waiting for the inheritance to be finalised. Only then could she consider what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

A chance meeting, a blossoming friendship, and Aziraphale and Crowley soon find themselves falling in love with the stranger they met only a few months ago. But neither believe the other could ever love them back, and both have things they're terrified to share.

As Time Goes By is a timeless romance set in the 1950s about acceptance, being less alone than you think, and watch-related puns.

~Mod N