#you’re painfully gay for each other

[kastrullhaj]

Will and Hannibal are kissing and sleeping with everyone but each other, it ain’t fair :(

[staryuee]

“HEY, CAN I SLEEP ON YOUR CHEST?”

꒰warnings꒱ implied AMAB/AFAB, somewhat gender neutral terms but written w/ gay dynamics in mind, suggestive

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . kaeya, itto, alhaitham, wriothesley ⚣ yelan, yae miko, clorinde, arlecchino ⚢

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . meant for the gays and lesbians respectively! male characters are written in a gay POV, women are written with lesbian POV — my little gift for pride month ♡ shoutout to all my male readers i’m sorry there’s content drought for you i hope i sufficed even if just slightly 😓

A. KAEYA — 凯亚

resident boob window man.™

kaeya can’t help but relish in the eyes of people who pass him by to just simply ogle at his chest area; because let’s be honest, no body is looking at that red shirt of his. so when he heard the phrase, “can i sleep on your chest” escape from his boyfriend’s lips, it didn’t come as shock or surprise but more so a warranted compliment.

who was he to deny you? if he allows dozens to have a subtle peek at his gorgeous, tanned skin, why would he not give you a privilege that was beyond that. “how about sleeping on my bare chest? after all, isn’t heat better shared when directly skin to skin?” of course, such alluring words were written using the truth for the sake of obscenities.

and yet, when you finally burrow your face into his chest, arms snuggled safely around his waist as you hummed softly, kaeya was sure his heart would leap out of its ribcage. god, he was so lucky no one was here to embarrass him further because the image of the ever elusive, mysterious and slightly flirtatious calvary captain turning into a silly puddle at just the littlest bit of affection would be etched into history’s memory to make use of as blackmail material.

“your heartbeat is really loud,” you teased, a subtle smirk tilting your mouth as you felt his breath hitch at your sudden call out. he was hoping you couldn’t hear that incessant hammering, but since you’re so close, he might as well let you savour that sound for a little longer while he’s all yours.

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“itto!”

“[name]!”

“can i sleep on your chest?”

pausing the excited chant and the slight ritual between you two to randomly call out each others names, itto stumbles and stutters in embarrassment, “i—! well, uhm, yeah! sure, hell yeah! ‘course you’d wanna, after all y’know we’re dudebros uhm, boyfriends, yeah!” it would be cuter if he did less dignity saving and a little more holding but nonetheless, this is what you signed up for when asking this tall hunk of mess to go out with you.

fortunately, neither of you would have it any other way.

getting fully comfortable in bed, it’s like you sink into itto perfectly, your body falling limp and heavy as your head cradles itself between his tattooed chest. if you didn’t feel so absolutely drowsy from the amount of heat exuding from his body, you were certain your hands may have wandered to squish them for the fun of it. yet, you refrained.

not like itto would’ve noticed such wanderings regardless, he was too busy fighting hyperventilation and this nagging cuteness aggression that threatened to manifest itself in him squeezing you painfully within the grip he had on your smaller frame.

WRIOTHESLEY — 莱欧斯利

“wrio…” you whine, face nuzzling into the nape of his neck and arms sliding along his waist to pull him flush against you.

“what is it, mon beau?” he can’t help but chuckle at the way your hands sneakily traveled along his abdomen and up to cup his chest, squeezing occasionally per routine after wriothesley came out the shower all wet and enticing, those droplets dribbling down his abs just simply begging to be swiped clean (either by your tongue or a towel, but both of you knew which one wriothesley would prefer).

“can i sleep on your chest, please? had a shitty day.”

wriothesley smiles smugly, the question rather warranted given how touchy you were being with him. “you’ve been getting all demanding lately, you know that?” settling himself within the covers of your shared abode, wriothesley promptly propped his head up atop fluffed up pillows before tapping on his chest. “come here.”

watching as you immediately snuggled yourself within his tender embrace, face nuzzled between his tits as if they were gold itself, wriothesley latched onto you with an affectionate stare, hands rubbing at your back to help soothe you. “my boyfriend’s so clingy these days,” he chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze despite clearly having the strength to grip you tighter.

“should i just connect us with handcuffs at this point?” he suggested, but honestly if you asked, he’d do it without hesitation.

AL HAITHAM — 艾尔海森

“hey, can i sleep on your chest?”

alhaitham promptly shuts his book at your request, eyes gradually meeting yours like some sort of lizard. “but i’m a man.”

“yeah so am i, what’s your point?” your lips puckered into a firm pout, a hand on your hips as if you were absolutely bewildered that he even dared to deny you in such a subtle way despite you asking so nicely instead of snuggling yourself between his manboobs shamelessly.

“my point is,” alhaitham sat up from the couch, those muscular arms that you were certain were littered with your bite marks a few days ago laced over his chest as if to reprimand you for your ignorance, “i’m a man, it wouldn’t be comfortable for you because my breast tissue is smaller than that of a woman.”

“well, can i?” a small stretch of silence ensued for a while before alhaitham gave up trying to reason with you and merely propped up his pillow, rolling his eyes at the way you wasted no time in snuggling yourself against him. face of course nuzzling against his chest restlessly. he might not admit it to you, but you certainly weren’t blind to big boobs when you saw them.

there was a whole curve. you could calculate the circumference of those things if he asked — and honestly? that within itself wouldn’t be beyond him. alhaitham found himself enjoying this more than he thought he would. his hand carded within your messy bed-hair as the other took its time to soothe your back.

if such a dumb request is enough to make you happy, he doesn’t mind fulfilling it.

YELAN — 夜兰

“i’m not used to being caught off guard,” yelan coughs into her hand, what seemed to be both a look of surprise and smugness distorting her usually calm facade.

“would you like to bet on my answer to that question?” she tilted her head to the side to entice you, her finger luring you close with a simple movement you couldn’t help but be drawn closer to almost instantaneously.

“well, can i?” you ask innocently, a bambi look to you that yelan would normally tease, but right now she wanted to devour completely. she grins, pearly whites showing as she pat her lap for you to cradle yourself in.

“i was thinking of taking an afternoon nap anyways, i don’t see any harm in you joining me.” and of course, you wasted absolutely no time in jumping within her embrace, those hands that normally held poker chips and cards or the neck’s of egregious men now holding you with an almost surreal gentleness.

“atta girl.” yelan giggled as you nuzzled yourself snuggly against her chest, those lashes of your fluttering against your cheek as sleep seemingly lulled you in a mere instant. where you keeping awake just for her to hold you? how sweet.

YAE MIKO — 八重神子

“have you been obsessively reading those sapphic novels of yours again, [name]?”

“nuh-uh…”

“don’t lie to me dearest, i can read you with a mere glance.” yae miko flutters some cherry blossoms that clung onto her attire with a mere wash of her hand, prepping herself for the long yet worthwhile cuddle session ahead that she’s grown more than accustomed to each time you presented yourself with your hands clasped behind your back so innocently like that.

“lay down then darling, you have all my attention.” she says after a minute, and of course you obey without any protest. you snuggle yourself into her comforting warmth, her arms immediately enveloping you as you lay down against her. yae miko proceeds to kiss repeatedly all over your head while humming a soft tune that sounded suspiciously familiar to you.

it was the same song that gently breezed in the background of your first kiss during a festival, when the sunset deep the sky in a beautiful array of red and orange hues.

seems like you weren’t the only one to have been obsessively reading sapphic novels lately.

CLORINDE — 克洛琳德

“clorinde…~ can i sleep on you chest please?”

“…don’t you have your own? i don’t quite understand your fascination.”

“i want to be able to hear you heartbeat when i wake up.” ah, well you can’t just say such swoon-worthy words and then expect her to not completely drop everything and coddle you. a blush smothered her cheeks in the most cosiest of hues as she fumbled over in her effort to figure out what reply she could possibly conjure up.

it took a few moments before the words finally reached her lips but the response that fell out was no less eloquent than the one that followed, which was to laugh. “i…why not? just don’t get too attached, i have to leave in the early morning.” with that said she pulled the covers back and slid into the bed next to you, who had taken up residence in the space between the bed’s headboard and the wall, leaving enough room for both of you to comfortably fit.

clorinde wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you flush against her side while she tucked herself under your chin, effectively shielding you from all harm. her breathing evened out gradually until she seemed to have drifted off, lulling you into complete slumber. you were sure you wouldn’t even notice if she hadn't been holding you tight to her chest.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

“you’ve become bolder, haven’t you my dumb bunny?”

the luxury of comfort was the last thing arlecchino obtained within her livelihood. she didn’t need it, nor did he want to have it. she would be content with living in the forest and sharing it’s abundant wildlife with fellow rabbits or whatever other small animal that came to feed on it. they could do what they wanted and it wouldn't bother that unnerving stoicism of hers.

yet such a simple, minute, even pure, question of yours? it somehow rattled something within her like a predatory snake unleashing it’s coil on its prey in sight for a bigger bite.

“since you’re so desperate for sleep, suppose i’ll have to indulge you.” she sighed heavily despite her tone holding no mingle of exhaustion apart from the permanent eyebags drooping beneath her lids.

like a berry unknowingly rolling into the reclining jaws of a centuries starved bear that’s drooling per conditioning, you comfortably settle right next to her heartbeat, those black nails sending shivers down your spine in electric shocks of warning as she spookily tugs them down your back.

her words always seem so elusive, so teasingly endearing they hardly feel sincere — almost as if sweetened words that spill from her lips come as easily as the breath from her frigid body. one thing that couldn’t lie, most unfortunately to arlecchin’s interest, was her heart.

the way it beat so clearly and loudly against your ear, it was hard not to giggle. of course, the ever perceptive arlecchino mumbled something incoherent about your perceived insolence and shoved your face right between her breasts to stop you from peeking directly into her heart. despite you clearly being in it already.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[7s3ven]

DRIVING LESSONS. luke (pjo)

Normal! Au

( master list )

IN WHICH… Luke attempts to teach Percy how to drive and, in the process, almost crashes into Luke’s long time crush. But maybe he can spin it in his favor.

—

Luke was like an older brother to many. He had warm and comforting aura that people seemed to gravitate towards.

“Don’t get hurt, seaweed brain.” Annabeth warned Percy, pointing a stern finger at him. Luke chuckled as he leaned against the hood of his shiny car. Percy needed driving lessons and Luke was more than happy to help. Though, he knew he was going to regret it. Annabeth and Sally were both too terrified to teach Percy but Luke was up for the challenge.

“Turn on your blinker, Percy.” Luke reminded the teenage boy for the fifth time.

“My what?” Percy only stared at Luke in utter confusion.

“Your turn signal. And keep your eyes in the road!” Luke exclaimed as another car whizzed past, narrowly avoiding crashing into them. Percy immediately glued his eyes back to the view in front of him, sheepishly smiling.

"Sorry." He whispered.

“Turn slowly here.” Luke instructed, nodding when Percy finally remembered to press his blinker. Percy turned painfully slow, matching the speed of a sloth, and Luke held back an annoyed groan.

“So, when did you start driving?” Percy asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Luke shrug.

“I’m not sure. Around your age or a little older.” Luke was in his twenties now, already having secured a well-paying job which helped pay for half of Annabeth’s tuitions. The other half was paid by a scholarship she earned.

“Have you met any cute girls?”

Luke lightly snorted, grinning in amusement. “Why are you asking me that, Percy? You know I can see how you look at Annabeth. I should be asking you how it’s going with her.”

Percy and Annabeth had always been stuck between friends and lovers and it was driving Luke insane. He wanted to shove the two of them together and demand they admit their feelings.

“Okay, but have you met any cute girls?” Percy was persistent, which suited his given name. Luke scoffed, tilting his head back. He had but he didn’t want to admit it to Percy. How was he supposed to tell Percy that he was still in love with the same girl from high school?

He thought he was over his feelings but he saw her in a coffee shop one day and everything came flooding back. Their playful flirting, their late night rants as they lay in each other’s arms while listening to Luke’s playlist, and that kiss they shared in their last year. Annabeth was already calling Luke a loser for liking her again, he didn’t need Percy doing the same.

“I guess.” Luke finally answered. “I’m not really attached to any of them, though.” Because his mind was always on Y/N, his high school sweetheart.

“Are you gay?” Percy asked out of the blue, causing Luke to choke in surprise.

“Am I- No! I’m not gay, Percy! I like girls but I wouldn’t date any of the girls I meet!”

“Is it because you’re still obsessed with her?”

Luke knew who he was talking about. He clicked his tongue, giving Percy the indirect answer that he needed. Percy wasn’t so clueless after all.

In all Luke’s years of babysitting Annabeth and Percy, he had only brought one girl over, who happened to be Y/N. They were working on a school project but Annabeth still liked to tease him about the way he gazed at Y/N.

Percy made the mistake of tearing his eyes away from the road again. “Percy!” Luke shouted as soon as he spotted someone walking across the pedestrian crossing, “Eyes on the road!” Percy, in a panic, slammed his foot against the break. The car screeched to an abrupt halt and both boys were sent flying forward. If it weren't for their seat belts, they would've crashed through the windshield.

There was a soft knock on Luke’s window and he turned his head, mortified to see the very girl he was just thinking about. The brunette slowly rolled the window down, thickly gulping.

“Hey.” Y/N greeted him, resting her arms on the sill, “You know, people usually stop at the crossing. They don’t almost run someone over.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. It’s his first time and he’s still pretty nervous.” Luke jabbed a thumb in Percy’s direction. The blond boy was sweating, gripping the steering wheel tightly. He sent Y/N an apologetic smile.

“Oh, Percy. I haven’t seen you in a while.” Y/N grinned at him, “You’ve grown up so fast. Last time I saw you, you were smashing into walls.” Percy’s cheeks heated up at the memory. “Glad to see you still have that habit. Though, instead of walls now, it seems you like to crash into people. You weren't thinking of committing a hit and run, right?"

“How have you been, Y/N?” Luke changed the subject to spare Percy from the embarrassment of Y/N’s teasing remarks. “You disappeared after high school. And the last time I saw you was in a cafe. I barely had time to ask.”

“I went to university in Europe.”

“And you got your law degree, I assume?”

“Conjoint, actually. I majored in law with a minor in psychology.”

Luke whistled, impressed. He barely passed university. “So, what are you doing now?”

“Well, I was taking a calming walk before I almost got killed.” She chuckled, an amused glimmer flashing in her eyes. Percy sank deeper into Luke’s leather car seat. “If you need help with teaching Percy to drive, I’d be happy to help. You look like you need it.” She fished out a card from her purse, handing it over to Luke. “I changed my number, by the way. That’s my personal one. Feel free to contact me, Luke.”

She bid the pair farewell and once she was out of earshot, Percy and Luke turned to face each other.

“Oh my gosh, she gave you her number!”

“Bro, I got her number!”

It was safe to say that Luke spent the rest of the terrifying car ride feeling elated despite being tossed around in the vehicle with Percy and almost throwing up once or twice.

Luke was dreading the next day with Percy because the young boy was not a good driver. At all. Not only had Percy narrowly avoided crashing into a pole and took off one of Luke’s mirrors in the process, but they also got chased by the cops for going over the speeding limit. Twice. And he couldn't forget how they almost killed Y/N.

Luke was thinking of ditching Percy but he was technically Annabeth’s boyfriend, even if she didn’t want to admit it.

His phone buzzed and his eyes darted to the screen for a split second. He looked back at the road, quickly stomping his foot onto the break. His heart sank for the second time this week. This was not how he wanted to meet Y/N again.

Y/N was teasingly grinning as she made her way over to his window. She knocked on it, bending down to match his height. “Hey, Luke.” She uttered, clicking her tongue. She playfully pursed her lips as she watched Luke sigh, his head resting against the wheel. “You and Percy seem to have one thing in common. Almost crashing into me.”

Luke’s cheeks flushed bright pink. “I didn’t mean to… I swear.” He uttered.

“It’s fine, Luke. As long as you don’t actually hit me. Because if you do, I will run you over too.” Y/N smiled, acting as if she didn’t just whisper a threat in Luke’s ear.

“I’m actually going to pick up Percy right now. Do you want to, uh, join me? I might throw up less with you around. Partly in fear of embarrassing myself.” Luke chuckled to himself while Y/N huffed in amusement.

“As long as I don’t land in hospital, I’m up for it.”

“No promises.”

Y/N climbed into the passenger seat, shutting the door behind her. She tilted her head to the side as she picked up a Lancôme lipstick. “I never took you as lipstick person, Luke.” She joked, holding up the tube.

“It’s Clarisse’s.” He said. Despite their differences, the two were quite close in high school. And they still were.

“You two dating already? Everybody shipped you two.” Y/N chuckled, turning her head to look at Luke.

“We’re just friends.” Luke said.

“Oh, come on. You must like a girl. Who’s the lucky one, huh?”

You, Luke almost said.

“I’m not interested in any girls right now.” He said instead. Y/N quirked an eyebrow.

“Are you gay? Wait, I kissed you while you were gay?!” Y/N gasped while Luke wildly shook his head.

“Why does everyone think I’m gay?!” He exclaimed.

"You've never dated anyone, Luke. It makes people think things." Y/N chuckled as leaned back in her seat. "I remember when everybody thought you and Chris were an item. Your fangirls were devastated. It was hilarious."

"What about you?" Luke asked, "How did... you feel?" Y/N faltered. She slowly turned her head to look at Luke before shyly diverting her gaze.

"I was more preoccupied with laughing over the sad girls with my friends." She uttered, "But I had a feeling you weren't gay. Your fashion sense back then was a dead give away that you were straight."

Luke clicked his tongue, "Was that meant to be an insult or a compliment?"

Y/N silently shrugged, flashing him a small grin. "A bit of both, I think."

Silence eventually settled between the pair. The car engine quietly hummed and Y/N glanced out the window as the radio played a soft melody. She thickly gulped as Luke pulled into Percy's driveway, a little disappointed they'd no longer be alone.

"Y/N." Luke quickly turned to her as soon as he pulled the keys out of his car. She met his gaze, confused as she gestured for him to continue. She watched as Luke took a deep breath. "Do you remember when I asked you if you had a partner for prom?"

"Of course. I went with Jake."

"I know that. But do you remember when you told me about Jake and I looked a little sad?" Luke was usually straight-forward with his sentences but he couldn't find the right words in this moment. Y/N slightly tilted her head.

"Yeah... you looked crushed." She said in a joking tone, causing Luke to gently chuckle.

"I looked sad because... I wanted to ask you out. Because I liked you. And I didn't ask anyone else out or accept any other offers because you were the only person I wanted to go with. And when you kissed me in our senior year, I couldn't feel happier, even if it was only because you wanted to feel a teen romance. And when you left... I didn't leave my room for ages. Annabeth had to drag me out. I was scared that you would find another person and I didn't want you to leave me behind."

Y/N gazed at him in silence. Luke cleared his throat, nodding his face. "I shouldn't have said anything... sorry. All those things were ancient history. I don't even know why I brought it up."

"What about you?" Y/N breathed, "Is there anyone else in your life?"

Luke pressed his lips into a thin line. "No... To be honest, I still haven't moved on from you." He turned his head to face Y/N, taken aback when she pressed her lips against his.

"I didn't find anyone else, Luke. I wanted to come back from university and run into your arms again, like old times." Y/N uttered as she pulled away. Luke cracked an ecstatic grin, pulling her back.

"Are you guys seriously making out in front of my house?"

Y/N and Luke jumped apart at the sound of Percy's voice. The younger boy was staring at them through the tinted window, face wrinkled up in disgust.

"I'll, um, get in the backseat." Y/N said, smiling before she switched seats, allowing Luke to sit beside Percy. The brunette gave the boy a subtle glare.

"Can I turn on some music?" Percy asked as he drove down an empty road. Luke had switched off the radio to allow the blond to concentrate.

"Only for a little while. Keep your eyes on the road so you don't almost kill anybody else." Luke snapped. From the backseat, Y/N lightly laughed.

Percy pushed a button and with a quiet click, Olivia Rodrigo started playing. "Really, Luke? Your sad playlist?"

"It's the only other tape in my car."

"I got my driver's license last week"- Percy sang along but he was cut off by Luke's stern tone.

"Percy, you won't be getting your license for ages if you don't focus on the road." The brunette warned. Percy frowned, going silent for a few moments before he parted his lips again.

"He used to listen to this playlist in his car while it rained. He was probably thinking about you." Percy said to Y/N, looking at her through the mirror, "I think he even cried at some point. Annabeth and I saw him one night, just sitting in the car and banging his head against the wheel."

"Percy!" Luke hissed, trying to shush the boy. But the damage was already done as Y/N diverted her eyes to look at Luke.

"Really?" There was an amused edge to her voice.

"Stop the car." Luke demanded, glowering at Percy. The young blond nonchalantly pulled over and stopped the engine. "You're dead, Percy. I'm going to tell Annabeth how you still drool in your sleep." Luke pulled out his phone, causing Percy to panic.

"I told her I stopped!" Percy reached for Luke's device but the brunette quickly stepped out of the car. He held the phone up high, away from Percy's grasp. Y/N watched as Percy chased after Luke, desperate to hide his drooling problem from Annabeth.

Luke turned his head to scowl at Percy. "It's your payback for telling Y/N that!"

idea from @emiliehornby !!

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[blazeeblake]

Unsettling

Inspired by this post. I wrote this late at night, zoning out on cold medicine while attempting to recover from a booster shot, so I can’t vouch for the quality 😅:

Dinner had been going great as far as Buck could tell. He and Tommy were still in the figuring it out stage of things, but a meal with Chim and Maddie felt like a step in the right direction; at least, up until the moment his sister unsuspectingly guided the conversation into a minefield.

“So, Tommy,” she began between bites of salad, “I have to say, I was really surprised when my brother told me about your date — not so much in terms of the pronouns of it all, but because the way he told it, you were way more focused on Eddie when you two met.”

Tommy shrugged, pushing around the remainders of his own plate, “Course correction’s a skill you hone when you’re tangling with baby gays— not that I’m sure Eddie even counts in that department. At this rate he’s essentially embryonic. Like, indefinitely.” Maddie cocked her head to the side, whatever follow up she may have had fading away into a loaded silence that descended over the room.

“H-huh,” Chimney chuckled unevenly, “well, uh, I don’t want to speak for anyone that’s not here but I’m pretty sure—“

“Wait,” Buck interrupted, brows knitting together, “You were trying to date Eddie?”

“Uh, yeah,” Tommy replied, as if it was painfully obvious, “At least, until I realized where things stood with him, and then I—

“Course corrected?” Buck finished, “With me. Your second choice.”

“Oh, like I’m not your second choice. Seriously, Evan, don’t be dramatic.”

“Maddie, honey,” Chimney broke in, rising out of his seat, “why don’t we go get dessert ready?”

“Ready?” Maddie repeated, eyes darting between her brother and his date, “It’s already—“

“What are you talking about?” Buck pressed, far too preoccupied with his burgeoning confusion to notice Chimney coaxing his quietly protesting sister out of the room.

Tommy rolled his eyes, pointedly setting his fork down, “Oh come on. Eddie’s on a special level of oblivious— and I mean, no surprise there, Catholicism builds its closets nice and sturdy— but you can’t expect me to believe you’re just as clueless, Mr. Trying to get my attention by pulling another boy’s pigtails.”

“Wha— No,” Buck sputtered, his breath hitching strangely and tripping him up, “Th-that wasn’t about Eddie. He’s not even— and even if he was, we’re not… I mean, we wouldn’t.”

“Right, because you’re scared it would burst the little bubble you two live in where you can have your cake and call it normal friendship,” Tommy concluded, his tone once again gratingly matter of fact, “Face it. A relationship with Eddie is heavy lifting from any angle, so we both opted out for each other, no harm, no foul.” Buck blinked, momentarily stunned into silence as his mind tried and failed to construct a solid counter to the conclusion Tommy had all but thrown in his face. All of it made sense, perhaps more sense than the raw foundations of yet another relationship built on someone else’s initiative and his own need to reach for any degree of being wanted, no matter how scant. The truth of it all stung and made his heart beat faster than he could stand, but at the same time there was something freeing in all that chaos.

“He’s not,” Buck managed softly.

“Gay?” Tommy replied, “Right, and Elton John just needs to meet the right girl.”

Buck shook his head, “No, I mean, he’s not heavy lifting or whatever you said. If you think that, you don’t know him at all— a-and maybe you don’t know me either if you think I’d feel that way.”

“Ev—“

“It’s Buck. And if all of this was settling then I guess you were right the first time: I’m not ready.” Tommy eyed him for a beat before sighing and pushing his chair back from the table.

“At least you’re consistent,” he said as he stood and began making his way to the front door, “A little slow on the draw but still miles more self aware than your buddy. I’d say good luck pulling him out of Narnia, but I’m not gonna hold my breath.” Buck didn’t respond, instead opting to drop his gaze to the floor and let his racing thoughts drown out his surroundings until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m guessing you heard all that?” He asked.

“Sorry,” Maddie said, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, “The acoustics down here are pretty unforgiving, privacy-wise.

“Sorry I ruined dinner,” he muttered.

“Technically,” Maddie reasoned, “I started it, so—-“

“I vote we blame no Buckley or Hans ,” Chimney said, dropping into the seat Tommy had vacated, “and we call this a win because screw that guy. I’m all for second chances but that dude’s practically on his fourth and he just keeps blowing it.”

“What am i supposed to do now?” Buck asked, turning to look up at his sister.

Maddie offered him a small, tight-lipped smile, “it’s like I said before: whatever you need to do, you’ll do it in your own time.”

“Right, but what if I screw it all up? He’s going through so much right now already and I don’t want to be one more thing he has to deal with.”

“I mean, maybe him going through things is the silver lining, you know? He’s figuring out his future and there’s room for you to work out where—not if— you fit in all of that. Because, for what it’s worth, I can’t picture a scenario where you two don’t figure it out. I can’t promise it’ll go the way you want it to, but I think you owe it to each other to talk.”

Chimney nodded, “As a daily witness to you guys being… well, you, I second that. And who knows? Maybe it all does work out. You communicate instead of fighting in a supermarket or shoving each other on a basketball court, and before you know it, you’re up close and personal with that glorious mustache of his.”

“Oh, Howie,” Maddie scoffed, “that mustache is definitely just a phase. One that maybe proves my point, but a phase nonetheless.”

“You bite your tongue. It’s beautiful and here to stay.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Is there something you need to tell Eddie? Or, his facial hair?”

For the second time that evening, Buck let the conversation fade into the background of his thoughts; or rather, the one thought that all the rest had melded into.

He loved Eddie—was in love with Eddie— and as terrifying as it was, the truth of it loomed too large to be reburied or ignored. He didn’t know if time and talking were the remedies his family made them out to be, but if there was any chance at all in them, he was stubborn enough to find out. The way he saw it, he’d practically been holding his breath all this time without knowing anyway, so what was a little while longer if it meant Eddie at the finish line? Unlike a certain helicopter pilot, Buck had the stamina not to settle.

[ghostofaboy]

... Your Call Is Important

Summary: Dave, Marcus and Javier continue their day together. (Direct Sequel to Hold Please…)

Pairing: Dave York/Javier Peña/Marcus Pike Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 2457 Part 2 of 2

Warnings: Oral sex, anal sex, double anal penetration, threesome - m/m/m

Note: This has not been beta read so I apologize for any mistakes. This is a fic with gay/bi characters. Please make sure you’ve read the warnings. Dividers: @saradika-graphics

As he rested on the large hotel bed, Dave found himself watching the tiny dust motes float through the air. Beside him, Marcus lay panting, his head tucked against Dave’s neck as the younger man came down from his stifled orgasm. The cool air of the room sent goosebumps dancing across their skin as their sticky, sweat drenched forms remained tangled together after the activities moments earlier. 

“You doing ok?” Dave murmured into Marcus’ hair, his gazed drifting down to the younger man’s still painfully erect cock, held in place with a black cock-ring.

“Yeah.” Marcus shifted his head to look up at Dave, his beautiful brown eyes looking darker than ever with dilated pupils almost erasing all color. “I’m good. Fuck, I wanna cum though.” Marcus laughed nervously, and Dave couldn’t stop himself from planting a kiss on his forehead. 

“You will, baby boy. You just have to be patient and let us old men get a second wind.”

“Who you calling old?” Javier muttered, striding back into the bedroom and throwing a hand towel over to Dave. “I’ll be good to go soon enough, precioso.” Javier threw Marcus a wink, cheekily waving his soft cock at them both.

“You haven’t changed at all, Peña.” Dave chuckled as he gently began to wipe the cum from Marcus’ face. “Still the same bullshit and swagger as always.”

“I could say the same to you, York.” Javier climbed back onto the bed and settled down next to Marcus, propping himself up on his elbow. “You still have to be in charge, don’t you?”

“You used to like me being in charge.” Dave threw the sticky towel back at Javier, who threw it down onto the floor, glaring. “Or at the very least you never complained when I’d have you cumming on my cock.”

“Listen,” Javier frowned, pointing at finger at Dave. “I don’t need another round of-”

“How did you two meet?” Marcus cut in, shifting to sit up. “You promised to tell me and well, neither of you are perking up just yet, so we have the time.”

“So rude, baby boy.” Dave chuckled, shaking his head, looking down at his still flaccid cock. “But, you’re not wrong.”

“You want to tell the story, I assume.” Javier smirked as he idly stroked his dick. 

“Well, I’ll start.” Dave grinned. “We were both at god awful joint departmental function and-”

“It was for charity.” Javier interrupted. “And it wasn’t that bad. Just, well, you know how these things are… just boring.”

“Right.” Dave rolled his eyes. “Anyway. I’m trying not to drink myself into a coma just for something to do when I spot this one.” Dave nodded his head towards Javier. “He was flirting up a storm with a very disinterested intern, and so-”

“She wasn’t an intern.” Javier scowled. “Fuck York, you make it sound like she was just a kid. She was a junior administrative aid, and for the record, she was very interested.”

“I thought you were letting me tell this story, Peña.”

“Well, you’re fucking telling it wrong.” Javier shrugged.

“So what happened then?” Marcus gave a small laugh. “After Dave spotted you?”

“Look, long story short, we ended up blowing each other in a side room.” Javier waved his hand dismissively. “After that we hooked up every few weeks until… until we didn’t.”

“Well, that’s a shitty version.” Marcus shook his head. “I want the long story, not the cliff-notes.”

“And I want to fuck you again.” Javier reached over to pinch Marcus’ nipple, before locking eyes with Dave. “And I’m ready to go again, viejo.”

Dave’s eyes wandered down Javier’s body and sure enough, jutting out proudly, was the other man’s growing erection. Glancing over at Marcus, Dave was just in time to see the young man lick his lips in anticipation before smiling at Javier. 

“I’ll tell you the full story next time, baby boy.” Dave purred into Marcus’ ear, kissing the younger man softly. “And fuck you, Peña, I’m ready.”

“Please let me cum this time.” Marcus gestured down to his trapped cock, his smile growing in relief as Dave nodded. 

“I got you.” Javier stroked a hand down Marcus’ face, gently cupping the younger man’s jaw, before leaning in for a long tender kiss.

Dave watched for a moment as his two lovers melded together, Javier’s tongue darting into Marcus’ mouth, all the while pumping his cock. Dave shook his head, allowing himself a smirk at Javier’s determination to get hard before him. The man never changed. And that was enough to wake Dave’s own member, and as he reached over to free Marcus from the cock-ring, Dave felt his dick twitch awake.

Marcus sighed into Javier’s mouth as Dave released him, tossing the ring onto the nightstand. Settling back onto the pillows, Dave watched and waited for the other two men to part, trying to push away the feeling of jealousy that tugged at the back of his mind. The softness that Javier poured into Marcus was something he and Javier never had, and something Dave could never allow himself to give to the younger man. Finally, Javier pulled back, smiling down at Marcus, their eyes locked on each other before they eventually turned to Dave.

“You good?” Dave forced himself back into the moment, pushing down any bubbling feeling, instead tugging on his erection.

“We’re good.” Marcus smiled back at him with flushed pink cheeks, while Javier simply gave a quick nod.

“Wonderful.” Dave reached over, pinching one of Marcus’ nipples hard, pulling a gasp and soft moan from the young agent. “Now, why don’t you come ride this cock and let me fill your ass. Let me add my cum to Peña’s.”

A low groan sounded from behind the grinning Marcus as Javier’s eye roamed down his body to Marcus’ ass, and Dave knew what he was thinking. He was thinking of the load he’d left inside Marcus’ already sloppy hole a short time ago. Perhaps once Dave added his own seed Marcus would be able to hold it in or perhaps, Dave hoped, he wouldn’t.

Swinging a leg over Dave’s torso, Marcus swiftly straddled him, his red leaking tip dripping onto Dave’s stomach as he moved. Over to their left Javier watched with dark, lust filled eyes, his gaze fixed on Marcus as he lined Dave’s cock up with his entrance. Then with a long, obscenely deep moan, Marcus sank down, engulfing Dave in his heat.

“Fuck baby b-” Dave pinched his eye shut for a moment to collect himself as Marcus immediately began to move. “In a rush?”

Placing his hand firmly on Marcus’ hip to still him, and after one final roll of his hip, Marcus stopped, staring grumpily down at Dave. Javier chuckled, shifting on the bed to kneel beside Dave’s head and nudged his cock against his lips. 

Locking eyes with Marcus, Dave slowly parted his lips to allow Javier entry, more than a little proud as both men groaned in response. Javier thrust lazily into Dave’s mouth, who flattened his tongue and sucked the tip hard. Held steadily in place, Marcus watched the show, his eyes flicking between Dave’s steely gaze and the sight of seeing the older, sterner agent with a thick dick in between his lips.

Releasing Javier’s cock, Dave began to kiss and lick along the length, pulling hisses and moans from Javier. Still holding an impatient Marcus with one hand, Dave beckoned him forward with the other, flicking the tip of his tongue across the slit of Javier’s cock. With a smirk that made Dave twitch inside the younger man, Marcus slowly leaned forward until he was face to face with Dave. 

Then quick as a flash Marcus pounced forward, his lips meeting Dave’s to kiss him sloppily and clumsily with Javier’s girth trapped between their lips. 

“Mierda.” Javier growled above them, thrust his cock toward to fuck between their mouths. “Both of you lick it. That’s right… fuck.”

Dave swirled his tongue around the tip while Marcus focused on the shaft, reaching out to fondle and tug on Javier’s balls. Dave kept his eyes fixed on Marcus, watching as the younger man sucked along the length before finding Dave’s lips to give him a slobbering kiss before working his way back up towards Javier's bush.

Satisfied that Marcus wasn’t going to blow his load the second he started to move now, Dave released Javier with a pop, turning his head to look up at the other man.

“I think it’s time to fuck our boy, don’t you?”

Javier frowned for a moment, before a single eyebrow quirked up as he caught onto Dave’s meaning. Glancing at Marcus planted on Dave’s cock, Dave could see the uncertainty in Javier’s eyes. Frowning again, Javier shook his head.

“Are you sure?”

“He can take it.” Dave playfully slapped Marcus’ ass, pulling a surprised yelp and laugh from the young man. “Can’t you, baby boy? Should I send Peña the pictures of you with that red dildo in you?” Looking back over at Javier, Dave grinned, dropping his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “I could fit both my hands in him afterward.”

Javier growled, pulling his cock back and away from Marcus and Dave’s lip, and climbed swiftly along the bed until he was behind Marcus again. From his seat atop Dave, Dave felt Marcus shudder in anticipation as Javier busied himself squeezing out more lube.

“You can take it.” Dave soothed, rubbing gently circles on Marcus’ hip. “We’re both going to fill you and it’ll feel so good when you cum.”

Marcus nodded, making a soft needy sound as Javier placed a hand on his back to push him forward slightly. As Marcus folded himself over, resting his face in the crook of Dave’s neck, Dave watched as Javier lined himself up. Dave could feel the other man’s heavily cock resting against the base of his own. Then slowly, achingly slowly, Javier began to push in.

Marcus arched his back and groaned, a low throaty sound that had Dave biting back his own moans as Javier continued to ease his way in. The sensation of Javier’s cock sliding against his own flooded Dave with a dizzying rush of heat that steadily built as the other man stretched Marcus’ entrance, splitting him open until he was fully buried alongside Dave. 

Marcus was panting into the crook of Dave’s neck, making soft whimpers and moans while his hole spasmed around them both. Javier’s face was flushed as he locked eyes with Dave, and Dave understood immediately. Despite all the swagger and bullshit earlier, Javier wanted, perhaps needed, Dave to take the lead.

With a simple nod from Dave, Javier began to slowly and cautiously move. Keeping his eyes fixed on Dave, Javier dragged his cock along Dave’s length, the two men held snugly inside Marcus’ ass. The feeling was electrifying, pulling a strangled cry from Marcus along with a muffled curse.

Javier began to roll his hips, tenderly at first, still wary of hurting Marcus, his eyes gazing into Dave’s. Eventually, Marcus lifted his head up, gasping as he looked over his shoulder towards Javier.

“Please.” His voice caught in his throat as he begged. “Fuck... fuck me. Hard. I want it hard.”

“You heard him.” Dave’s eyes never left Javier’s.

Baring his teeth, Javier bucked forward sharply, plunging his length deep into Marcus before withdrawing and jolting forward again. Grabbing Marcus by the shoulders, Javier began to fuck the younger man, taking control of the pace for him and Dave. All the while, Dave met his eye, feeling the lust inside him build as he watched it inside Javier's dark eyes. 

Despite his cockiness, Dave had never done anything like this before, and it was taking everything he had to keep his composure. Every nerve sang with Javier’s thrusts. His head throbbed with the intoxicating fog conjured by Marcus’ soft whimpers. All he wanted to do was throw his head back and howl as he came as the heat took over his entire body. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. So Dave held Javier’s eye and watched as the gruff DEA agent came undone. 

Red-faced with his breath coming out in bursts from between gritted teeth, Javier pounded into Marcus, the friction of his cock against Dave’s pulling both men closer to the edge quicker than either had anticipated. 

“F-fuck.” Javier stuttered, his hips faltering for a couple of strokes. “I’m gonna... I’m gonna…”

“Me too.” Marcus cried out as he came with a shudder, his muscles tensing around the cocks in his ass. With a cry, Dave felt Marcus spilling himself over the older man’s stomach, before collapsing boneless on top of Dave.

Javier kept his eyes locked with Dave as he came, his hips stuttering as Dave felt his cum flooding into Marcus. Dave was almost sure Javier mouthed something to him, but as his own climax hit, Dave’s vision blurred as he tumbled over the edge. Gripping the bedsheets, Dave arched his back as he emptied himself into Marcus. 

“How was your meeting?” Carol’s voice was soft in his ear as Dave looked out of the hotel room window out onto the city streets below him. The sun was just beginning to set, sending streaks of orange flaring out into the sky. “Do you think you’ll be home tonight?”

“We ran over.” Dave glanced over to the bed and the two men fast asleep in each other’s arms. Shifting the phone to his other ear, Dave wandered over to the hard, modern looking chair, running his hand along the smooth gray fabric. “I’ll be home tomorrow. Afternoon at the latest. The hotel is nice, though.”

“Well, that’s a plus.” His wife laughed before a noise in the background caught her attention. “Oh! I have to go, Cindy’s back with the girls.”

“Ok.” Dave sighed at the mention of their neighbor’s name, the woman Carol had been fucking for two years. “You two have fun.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Carol teased, the sounds of the girls in the background getting louder. “You have your fun, I have mine. Say hi to Marcus for me. I’ll see you tomorrow, honey. I love you.”

“I will.” Dave couldn’t stop himself from giving a soft laugh. “Love you too.”

Hanging up, Dave looked over to the bed and the two naked men, finding them both still sleeping soundly. Marcus resting his head on Javier’s chest smiled contentedly as Javier huffed in his sleep. Climbing into the large bed to sandwich Marcus between him and Javier, Dave settled into the pillows, watching the dust motes dance through the warm beams of light while he waited for his lovers to wake.

taglist: @aurorawritestoescape, @vabeachazn, @perotovar, @morallyinept, @for-a-longlongtime

[glassofapplejuicee]

quick prom modern au bc these fellas have rotted my brain

“Robin you’ve got this all wrong!” Steve whined, pacing around his room.

“If I’m so wrong then why are you all worked up about this huh?”

Damn that was a good point, why was he so worked up about this? It wasn’t like he actually liked Billy or anything like that. It was just a funny bit that Robin liked to play, the classic ‘Steve and Billy are super gay and in love with each other’.

Which was utterly ridiculous, yeah sure they were gay but that didn’t automatically mean they were destined to be with each other. 

Steve scoffed, in lue of a real answer. 

“I dunno.”

“Always Mr. Helpful.” Robin sighed, turning back to her phone. 

“Didja do the Wordle today? I’m on my third try and I have like one letter.”

Steve thanked whatever god was out there that Robin had the attention span of a gant, really helped out when there was a topic he didn’t want to discuss. 

****

The lunch room always had a distinct smell of mold to it, which irked Nancy to no end, so the group often found themselves eating in the library. Nancy sucked up to the librarian enough that she didn’t even bat an eye when the usual four to five teenagers would follow Nancy around like lost ducklings.

“So, you guys have a date to the prom yet?” Jonathan asked awkwardly as they settled into the soft chairs in the back corner of the library. 

Everyone knew he wanted to take Nancy, and that this was his not so sly attempt at figuring out if she had a date yet or not.

“Hell no, you think I’m going to prom? I’m like, way too old for that shit.” Eddie chuckled. 

“But you’re our favorite super senior!” 

“Swear to God Hargrove-” 

Billy just cackled to himself while Robin interrupted him.

“Ok well I DO have a date to prom, so suck it losers.” 

“Oh yeah right Buckley.” 

“Nah I’m serious, I have hoes out the wazoo.” 

Steve let his head fall and hit the table, letting out an over exaggerated groan at Robin’s latest and greatest sentence. 

“Ok laugh it up but I am taking the drop dead gorgeous Heather Holloway and you’re taking…” she trailed off, pretending to think, “Oh that’s right, nobody!” 

Steve lifted his head and scowled. 

“It’s ok pretty boy, I’ll take you if no other upstanding citizen volunteers.” 

Steve consciously ignored the blush that rose up the back of his neck and grumbled out a response. 

“My hero.” 

“Hey you could put that shit on college apps! ‘Takes bitchless losers on dates’, I can see the headlines now.” Eddie quipped, dramatically pantomiming to the group.

****

“Yo Steve-o!” Billy called, jogging up to Steve’s car.

“What, need the chemistry homework again?” he smirked. 

“Dude, that was one time, and no.” he huffed, leaning up against the passenger door, looking over the roof at Steve.

“I came to ask you something actually.” he continued. 

“You know that, uh, joke? Like the bit that Robin always does?”

Steve narrowed his eyes. 

“Like you know that one, well anyways, I just. That’s all to say, or I guess ask, I’m here to ask something-” he trailed off again. “Dude just spit it out.”

“Do you want to go to prom with me?” 

“I mean yeah sure, I assumed we would go in a group together anyways.” 

“No no no, goddammit Steve, I meant like together. With me. With me as your date. With matching boutonnieres and dumb pictures and all that horseshit.” he waved his hand flippantly at Steve. 

“Holy shit really?” 

“Yeah really.” Billy answered wearily, he would never get used to the painfully slow processing speed of Steve Harrington. 

“Huh. I did not expect this. How long have you…” he trailed off. 

“Too fucking long Steve. Now answer the fucking question will you?” 

The corners of his mouth perked up without his permission, “Yeah, I’ll go with you. Matching boutonnieres and all.” 

“Oh thank fucking God, I was so worried you were gunna say no and then I’d have to kill all the witnesses.” 

Steve snorted a laugh. 

“Ok, I got practice so I gotta run, but I had to ask that before I lost my mind. See you later.” 

Steve watched as Billy jogged off back towards the school, he couldn’t stop the dopey grin from showing. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket and shot a quick text to Robin.

ok mybe u were right… on a totally unrelated note, what color should billy and I’s ties be?? 

[fetchen]

i think uh gretchen and karen are gay and in love so here’s some of my headcanons about it :3

<3-before they got together, karen was incredibly clingy with gretchen and gretchen only (as i mentioned before, karen is just a very touchy person but gravitated toward gretchen)

<3-karen heard gretchen when she was singing “what’s wrong with me?” and went on a very long and heartfelt rant about how there’s nothing wrong with her

<3-that’s when gretch realised she had feelings for her best friend c:

<3-they literally share everything like if gretchen gets a coffee half of it will be drank by karen

<3-karen loses her things a lot so gretchen’s come to have extras always

<3-they make collaborative spotify playlists :3

<3-they’re always clinging to each other during sleepovers at regina’s and regina is a really big hater about it

<3-they had their first kiss after cady’s party

<3-gretchen was so upset about jason and karen was there for her the whole time

<3- “i dunno why you like him so much. you’re like…really nice and smart and pretty. but he’s so…not nice to you.” among other compliments

<3-gretchen could not believe that karen really felt that way about her

<3-she kinda just stared at karen for a few seconds

<3-they made out very passionately after that (gretchen kissed karen first even though she was terrified to)

<3-it took gretchen like a day after that to tell karen she actually liked her

<3-they were each other’s dates to the spring fling c: they weren’t official yet at that point

<3-when they started dating, karen asked gretchen, “does this make you or me the boyfriend?”

<3-gretchen calls karen “mama”, “(mi) amor”, or “kare-bear” if she’s feeling particularly corny and karen calls gretchen “gretch” always

<3-they have movie nights with regina, cady, aaron, janis, and damian and whenever someone picks a horror movie karen gets scared so easily that she just huddles up to gretchen the whole time

<3-gretchen absolutely loves karen’s big brown eyes like there might actually be nothing she loves more in the whole world

<3-karen loves biting gretchen like not in a sexual way she just thinks gretchen looks so edible she will bite her very softly all the time

<3-gretchen will absentmindedly do that thing with her thumb when she and karen are holding hands and it kinda drives karen crazy

<3-they do that cheesy couple thing where they rest their foreheads together like they’re about to kiss and everyone else hates it (affectionately)

<3-karen had feelings for gretchen for a while and made it painfully obvious but just never said anything

<3-gretchen is a lesbian (i’m kinda projecting with this one) jason was just her comphet fr

<3-karen is pan (this is semi canon/confirmed by avantika)

<3-gretchen has insomnia and often calls karen in the middle of the night just to hear her voice

<3-gretchen sometimes has panic attacks and karen is the only person who knows exactly how to calm her down

<3-gretchen picks at her cuticles and karen brings her colourful bandaids and holds her hands to prevent her from doing so

<3-gretchen gets quite jealous easily,, mostly due to being a very anxious and insecure person

okay . i’m done thank u for coming to my ted talk ^w^ (i have more please ask me about them if you want)

[the-ace-with-spades]

This, I hope, will eventually be posted on ao3 as a proper fic – current draft title is exhumation — but just in case it will not, gonna post it here and let it stew

Canon Divergence AU with secret Identity and later identity reveal drama

(also this involves the backstory from the Ghost comic because I vaguely remember reading it when I was in high school…)

Soap and Ghost meet before they become Soap and Ghost. Johnny is 20, Ghost is 25, and they’re stationed around the same place but different squads — somewhere not far away from Manchester — and they don’t know they’re both from SAS. They meet when Tommy tries to be supportive of Simon’s newly announced queerness and takes him out to a gay bar on Canal Street. Tommy is the one to chat up Johnny (while Simon, obviously not a fan of crowds or loud places, hides away in the bathroom) with ‘see, my brother this and that’  and ‘if you give my brother a chance, he will this and that’. Believe it or not, once Simon strolls back in with all his social awkwardness, Johnny is actually charmed. Things roll around for a couple of months before they admit to each other they’re in the armed forces.

By the time they find out Simon is of higher rank, they’re already gone for each other. They decide to keep going anyway — it’s legal, as of 2001, and they’re not planning on getting a civil partnership for a while, anyway, so in the end, they keep going. Simon changes his next of kin on file to Johnny, they ‘share’ a flat off base, and Johnny’s met Simon’s mum and brother. He more or less knows the lore of the Riley family, mostly how much of a piece of shite his father was and Tommy’s recently fought addiction, and somehow, Simon feels alive for the first time in his life.

It’s all going so perfect, they’ve been together for almost two years, which isn’t long for most, but feels like forever when you’re in the military. Johnny gives him a ring, a sterling silver one with thistle ornaments and a small garnet centre stone. It’s not a proposal, they can’t get married legally, and they won’t have anything but Simon’s will binding them legally for as long as they’re both in the forces — Simon doesn’t know it, but there’s a matching simple band waiting to slide in with the ring he’s got on his tags, and one day, Johnny plans for him to have a full set.

Simon and his team get send out, Simon tells him it’s going to be a long one, somewhere in one of the Americas — Central or South, if he had to guess by all the self-learning Spanish books that cluttered Simon’s bedside table — and Johnny, well, he’s got a bad feeling but when does he not, with their jobs?

Simon’s team gets back, partially. There’s talk about betrayal from his captain, and he’s painfully absent, Simon’s friends look half-dead and act half-dead and no one is telling Johnny anything. He spends his afternoons with Simon’s mum, taking care of her as best as he can while Simon is gone, even though it was never the plan, and dodges Tommy’s aggressive questions, because he knows goddamn nothing.

Johnny doesn’t give up. He waits.

Simon is gone six months — MIA, officially, but KIA in the words of anyone from the brass — when he emerges back from South America, giving Johnny a new heart and a new life. He comes back different, but Johnny doesn’t care, it’s Simon, it’s still him, and maybe there’s something dead in his eyes, and maybe he spaces out more often than not, and maybe he feels cold in Johnny’s arms, and maybe he doesn’t sleep in the same bed, but it’s still Simon, he just needs to heal and figure out how to keep on living.

And Simon tries — he’s got episodes every day, than every other day, than every week, every other week. He goes to therapy, he spends his days cooking with his mum, spends his days cleaning the whole of their flat again and again, spends his days wandering around Manchester, buying Johnny’s favourite drinks, favourite books, favourite breakfast babs.

He tells Johnny bits and pieces, about what happened, enough that Johnny can put it together in a horrifying if blurred picture, and things start to improve, slowly.

He comes back to their bed. He wakes up before Johnny, makes him breakfast, kisses him on the forehead and struggles with the crosswords from the newspapers he picked on his morning run. He goes out with his former teammates, very short trips but trips nonetheless. He stops being afraid to be alone with his nephew, stops being afraid he'll hurt him. He never quite gets used to the scars, covering them more often than not, not wanting the looks.

Second week of December, ten months after he was brought back to the UK from North America, his psychiatrist signs him off for a phased return to duty. No deployments, only base and training site duties, regular sessions with both the psychiatrist and the psychology for the first four months.

Johnny hasn’t seen his family since before Simon gone MIA — finally feeling okay-ish, Simon tells him to go Scotland for Christmas. He’s got his mum, his brother, his sister-in-law and his nephew, and he’s, weirdly, feeling almost optimistic about life.

Obviously, he can’t be happy for long and shit hits the fan.

On Christmas Day, Johnny gets a call from Greater Manchster Police. He and his sister drive down the country and in the early morning of the Boxing Day, Johnny is showed the tags with the familiar silver ring on it, sooted at the edges and slightly misshapen, melted.

Fifteen minutes after he identifies Simon’s body, they tell him he killed his whole family, probably in a PTSD induced episode, then set their house on fire and killed himself right after, when the trauma-haze went down. They tell him he was lucky not to be there when it happened.

Johnny doesn’t believe it. Simon’s mind’s been bad, but it’d always turn on Simon, not on others, he had too much control to let any episode take him over so much. So he doesn’t care what the police or the public says — he arranges the funeral and Simon is buried with the rest of his family.

Meanwhile, Simon goes on a rampage in Mexico. He kills everyone and anyone he even suspects to be involved with Roba’s people. He leaves a trail of dead people behind him for weeks until finally, the US military catches up — General Shepherd catches up and identifies him. The British Army doesn't know what to do with him — officially, he's dead already, the General Register Office has already issued his death certificate to his NOK, the armed forces had condemned his family's tragedy. His existence is…inconvenient. He is suspected to be either compromised or too unstable to be of use to the Army, even if SAS sees how valuable someone who could single-handedly destroy a whole cartel family and fake his own death could be.

Enter John Price, who had met Simon during SAS selection and had a bit too soft of a heart. There's a mural agreement — Price will take personal responsibility to keep him on a leash, at least until he proves he is not a liability, and he will remain dead on paper but active in the Army. No one is to know he is alive — not even Johnny, or maybe especially Johnny, who will be the last person anyone will see as a revenge method. Simon Riley's name is redacted from all available documents.

And thus, Ghost, a nameless lieutenant and a walking cautionary tale, is born.

The only thing Ghost has not predicted is that eventually, almost six years after he put Simon into the grave, Johnny will join the 141.

And somehow, Ghost is just Johnny's type, again.

[romana-after-dark]

Blessed be the Fruit: Finale, part 1

Commander!Joel Miller x Handmaid!Reader

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Summary: Joel takes you somewhere different, meeting Tommy there

Content and Warnings: DARK JOEL! DUB CON! (stressing the dub con again this chapter)

Although no violent rape happens like in TWW, reader is under systemic misogyny and a society of ritualized sex abuse. Everything other than the violent rape scenes, everything that happen in either The Handmaids Tale book or show are liable to happen here including but not limited to discussion of rape, child abuse, child marriage, ritualized sexual abuse, sexual abuse in general, acts of violence, major character deaths, mentions of miscarriage but never shown and never pregnancies we know of. Big ole homophobia warning, specifically in regards to lesbophobia. As for Joel, PIV sex, breeding kink, degrading (slut, whore etc but thing like Raider!joel) forced breeding and breeding kink, power dynamics, Joel is not the good guy but he’s also not the worst, slightly rough sex but not violent. Warnings are liable to be added as the story goes but I’ll always update. As always if I miss something please tell me, but i extensively label my warnings and in the end media consumption is your own choice. If you would like to know if this is a happy ending or not you can message me and I’ll tell you that way I don’t spoil for everyone but you can decide if this is for you.

Immersability: Reader has long hair, can conceive children theoretically.

Extra warnings: homophobia, pedophilia (nothing actually happens), David creepiness.

**********************

You were stuck in the house on a rainy day, helping Lisa with the cookies for dinner tonight. Your head was swirling, memories of the last several nights making your thighs clench. You hadn’t seen Angela since the night you and her fucked 3 day ago, the heavy rain making the menial store runs not worth it for now. Couldn’t risk getting sick in case you were pregnant, now could you?

Would things change between you? Did this mean you were gay? You had no idea, you needed to see her, she was the only person you could trust with this. Joel hadn’t changed, continuing to fuck you last night, while the night before he taught Ellie. Ellie came before any for him.

She was upstairs right now with Riley and that made you even more nervous. You knew what they were doing, they weren’t subtle one bit. Ellie had no sense of self preservation, it seems. You decided to go upstairs to check on her, but quickly turned away when you heard the sound of kissing. Shit. They were loud. You didn’t want to interrupt them, feeling flustered and embarrassed by overhearing so you dash downstairs to try and see where Gina was, to make sure she wasn’t coming upstairs. It was there you saw Gina welcoming Bedford inside.

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“You can fetch Elizabeth from her room, Commander Bedford.” Gina spoke. “She’s up there with Mrs. Jones. They are such close friends, I do hope they can see each other often when she’s married.”

“Of course, Mrs. Miller. It’s so important for the wives to have close friendship to grow closer to god with each other and lean on those hard times.”

You needed to get to Ellie. You neede to warm her before she’s caught; you doubted even Joel could keep her and Riley off the wall.

“I can go get her, Mrs. Miller” You offer and move towards Ellie’s, room, but Gina catches your arm. 

She narrows her eyes at you. “No, I think Commander Bedford has it, thank you OfJoel.”

You try to push past. “Really, it’s no-”

But you were shoved away, into the hall, her grip still firm on you, and nodding David Bedford away to the girls room.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Mrs. Miller, you need to let me go, you need to stop him.” You’re getting more frantic, trying to get out of her grip but her fingernails dug into your skin painfully. “Ellie, she-”

Gina’s face was sudden close to yours. “I know what her and Riley are doing, you little harlot, I’m getting her out of my face so she can stop embaressing me.”

She was trying to get Ellie and Riley killed? 

“ELLIE!” You start to scream but Gina worked fast, shoving you out the door and locking it.

You didn’t think to much on what you did next. You were never getting out of Gilead alive, you were never going to see your son again. You didn’t even know if this would do anything… but Joel was gone, and only one person could help. Taking off, you run next door, not stopping to knock. “COMMANDER MILLER! COMMANDER MILLER!” You ony had the slightest sense to think he call him commander miller instead of Tommy.

Angela appeared around the corner, green eyes wide and wild. “OfJoel, what are you-”

“I need Tommy, emergency!”

Hearing his name, Tommy runs down the stairs. “What the hell is happening!”

“Gina brought Commander Bedford to the house” You grab him and start pulling him out the house as you explain, there was no time to waste. “She’s there with Riley, they’re kissing, I- I don’t know what else, but Gina, she said she was trynng to get Ellie caught!”

Tommy ran past you. “Fucking bitch! Angela, stay here-”

“No fucking way!”

But Tommy shot her a look. Never have you seen Angela fold for a man, and certainly not Tommy. She liked Tommy, but you didn’t take orders from men you pegged. Angela as told to get to his office and call Joel

You tell Tommy the door is locked, but he has a spare key and gets inside. You hear shouting upstairs and Tommy’s long legs are taking the steps three at a time to get to his niece but you lag behind, slowed in your stupid shoes.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEM!”

*

Everyone was in the parlor. 

A very terrified and wide eyed Ellie standing opposite of an equally scared Riley. Tommy stood by his niece and you, shouting at Gina. Commander Bedford stayed quiet, but his eyes were alert, carefully watching everyting and everyone. Luke and Lesa even lurked in the shadows, listening in.

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE!” Joel’s booming voice broke into the house, dorm slamming shut with such a force, pictures shook on the walls.

“Dad!” Ellie ran across the rooms, passing David and Gina fearlessly now that her father was in the room. Joel took her quickly into a protective hug, turning her body away from the household, his broad width keeping her from view. “Are you okay, baby girl?”

She nodded. “Dad, I fucked up, I fucked up so bad-”

“Shhh, Ellie, it’s okay…” He stroked her hair that had fallen out, tucking it behind her ears. “I’m gonna protect you.” With Ellie trailing behind him, he grabbed Riley as well, pulling her away from Bedford. He knew exactly what Bedford was, and would not allow him near either girl. He locked eyes with Tommy.

Gina spoke first. “This is your fault, allowing her to just do whatever she wants, she’s spoiled-”

“Hush, woman! Will someone explain to me what happened.”

Finally, David spoke. “It seems I caught Miss Miller and Mrs. Jones in a rather… compromising position.”

Joel stood tall and powerful in front of the two teens. “I certainly don’t know to what you’re implying, Bedford, but I suggest you tread lightly, here.”

David stepped forward, and eerie calm in his voice and soft smile on his face. “Commander Miller, I assure I want this all sorted out as well but the fact of the matter is I saw Miss Miller and Mrs. Jones kissing. Not only is this gender betrayal, but it’s an affair for Mrs. Jones, an affair in which Miss Miller is complicit. This can get both of them killed or sent to the colonies.” The colonies were basically a death sentence. 

“Neither of them” He spoke firmly, sure. “Are going to the wall or the colonies, Bedford. They are just kids.” When this didn’t work, he softened his tone to the negotiator. “C’mon, David. You were a teacher, you know these are just kids, they do stupid shit.”

He shakes his head. “Actions need to have consequences, Joel, you know this. Back then, we allowed this sort of thing to run rampant and we were punished by God, taking away our children.”

“Bullshit!” Tommy barked across the room. “If God was punishing us for anything, it’s for sicko’s like you touching little kids!” With long strides, Tommy walked over shouting at Bedford, but Joel put up a hand to stop him. He needed to negotiate.

“What do you want, David?”

He sighed, holding both his hands behind his back. “I think young Elizabeth’s problem-”

Joel’s face shifted into a warning glower. “Do not talk about my daughter-”

“Is that she is at marriage age, needs a husband to set her on the right path.”

Tommy scoffed. “And that man is you?”

“Yes, I think so. She’s a strong willed woman, could be a leader among the wives if she’s set on the right path. The bible does, in fact, teach in favour of strong women, despite what our enemies say.”

From behind Joel, Ellie steps out, brave now that she has two protectors. “Yeah? Like who?” She challenged, Joel trying to hush her but sighing. He knew he couldn’t.

But David was not phased. “Judith, Ruth, Esther, Mary Magdalen. You would know that if you paid attention to theology class instead of staring at my niece.”

“I would know that if you let me read the damn bible!” She took a few short step towards David as she screamed at him, the room erupting in commotion

“Ellie!” Gina shouted and began to stride toward her daughter she clearly held so much contempt for, but Tommy gripped her arm yanking her back, growling to stay growing at her to ‘stay the hell away’ from Ellie.

Joel’s eyes widened; swearing was being added to her list of offenses today, and ‘damn bible’ made it worse, as did an expression of desire to read. She was digging herself deeper. Riley tried to cull Ellie back in, but the only thing that stopped her was Joel’s strong arm around her pulling her back in. The only person remaining calm was David.

“Allow me to marry Elizabeth, and I’ll make sure she fulfills her potential.”

Joel watched for a long time, planning his next move. He’d always been so in control, so sure of himself and the future… He hadn’t felt this lost since Sarah died. It was then he noticed you. WHen you and Joel locked eyes, you knew there was nothing he could do. He was accepting his fate.

“And you won’t tell a soul about her?”

“Dad, no!”

“No one outside of this room.”

“And Riley, you won’t tell Commander Jones?”

“Joel, man, what are you doing?”

“They’ll remain safe, you have my word.”

Joel took a deep breath. “Fine, you may inform the counsel of the betrothal, now get the fuck out of my home.”

Chaos shattered like glass, confusing everyone in the room as Bedford left the house.

“Dad! What the hell! What is wrong with you!” Ellie berated her dad. Gina tried to tell her to shut up, but Joel snapped and turned to his wife, eyes cold and sharp. 

“You! I know you did this shit Gina. You’ll fucking pay for this, I’ll have your fucking head on a pike!”

Gina was undeterred. “She had to get married at some point-”

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY SIGHT!”

When Gina left, he called for Luke, asking him to escort Ellie and Riley to the car, he was taking Riley home.

Ellie was furious. “How could you do this! How could you abandon me like everyone else!”

“Ellie.” Joel turned to her, placing two hands on her shoulders. “I promise you, I’m not letting that man touch you.”

Her eyes narrowed at him. “Not even you can stop this, Joel.” Ellie took Riley’s hand and followed behind Luke to the car. Only you, Tommy and him were left. Joel turned to you.

“Thank you, for getting Tommy. I’ll… I’ll make sure you don’t get any backlash from Gina… you tell me if she does anything to yuh.” To Tommy now. “I’m coming over after I make sure Riley gets home safe, okay? We’re gonna figure this out.”

The worry in Tommy’s eyes said he wasn’t sure there was a way out at all.

********************

Im sorry this is taking 5 ever to write ;-;

I hope y'll still like it. I still care about this story and eeing it through <3

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @dins-riduur-anthe @morallyinept @fan-fiction-floozy @med494 @taliarose12 @flvrdoll @k-ra @sam-2me @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @moriartyyouwhore @hereforthepedrofanfic @alwaysmicado @noisynightmarepoetry @kyloispunk @jenna-ortega @lunitareads @labyrinthofheartagrams @swimmjacket @theywhowriteandknowthings @everyth1ngfan @movievillainess721 @syrupstuff @christinamadsen @darlingshame @genetics4life @stevngrant @crazysouthernlady @joeldjarin @gwendibleywrites @ladynightengale @justagalwhowrites @pedge-page @magpiepills @zliteraturehoe @lover-of-books-and-tea

[ajaxsprettyboy]

Baseball Boy

himbo professional athlete x loser streamer/ YouTuber idia (has smut who knew)

This is also compensation for Lilia fic taking so long LMAOOO I promise it’s coming </3 but in the meantime enjoy idia being autistic and gay !

Image coming home from practice or a game and he’s jus like “oh!! Hi!! Do you wanna say hi to the chat? We were watching your game!!” Or “oh hey!! how was practice?” (Both texted cause he’s like on the other side of the house in a noise canceling room) Let’s go with baseball for this cause I know the most abt it

He’d know only what you tell him about the sport but by god is he your biggest fan. Not a clue in the fuckin world while people watch the game with him, he doesn’t care unless you’re on screen.

“THATS MY HUSBAND!!!” Tweeted 90809090909962726393639473297011827376101 times with each thing you do to help your team. If you catch a fly ball or an absolute rocket of a line drive he’s so proud of you, hell even if you sucked ass he’d still be proud of you.

He likes your uniform and how muscular you are, even if you’re shorter than him you make him feel so small and cute.

So very insanely proud of you. You hit a dinger? Proud husband. You strike out? Proud husband. You walk? Proud husband. You hit a little piddler? Proud husband. Anything you do when you’re on the field or batting makes him so proud.

If you lose? In his eyes you still did amazing. If you win? Oh he’s so fucking happy for you he might pee a little. He’s almost as happy for you as he was when he found out you made the team, to put it in perspective. His favorite memories with you are your first day being a couple, your first Valentine’s together, your proposal and most importantly your wedding day.

Oh but if he’s not streaming when you come home and you’re looking for a little relief oh by god is he excited. He’s not excited because you’re stressed but he’s excited because he loves the feeling of you engulfing him in your muscles (absolutely ADORES your strong thighs, would fuck them for hours if you let him). When he hears the door slam shut he can’t help but get a little hard.

When he hears you grumble and complain he goes downstairs and comes over to awkwardly comfort you. It’s not like he’s not used to your presence or anything but he’s absolutely not used to getting so riled up and trying to be a good, caring, comforting husband. He just can’t help it.

The annoyed, frustrated look on your face as you exasperatedly throw yourself down on the couch. He sits beside you, stumbling over his words as he tries to get you calmed down, usually it works. Not because he’s incredibly good at comforting but instead because his cute expression makes you feel better. He always has the pink flushed tips when you reach over and kiss him, he loves the kisses, yes, but they still take him by surprise.

If you signal to him you want to go up to your shared bedroom and have some fun, he’s more than willing but oh so embarrassed. If you tell him to go upstairs, strip, and lay down he’s following your orders like an obedient puppy. Although he just kinda lays there naked and hard without any like… pose or anything, he lays like he’s a flat board. It is cute though, the blush on his face, the pink tips of his hair and the twitch of his cock make up for it.

If you top hes so good for you, he adores the praise. If you want him to top, however, he’s still- after all these years going to treat you like you’re made of glass. Even if you regularly bottom, until you tell him to manhandle you while he tops he’s going to be incredibly gentle.

Idia is a switch leaning sub and a verse leaning bottom, so don’t expect to constantly be on top and dominant. He also has a pretty high sex drive but he’s never going to tell you that. I personally hc him as autistic so I think he wouldn’t really know he’s horny until he’s painfully hard and desperate for you (I know because I do this). Please help him out, he was watching your game and you just looked so good on the feild and he’s sorry he doesn’t mean to be a creep but he just couldn’t stop looking :(

If you reassure him whenever this happens he’ll try to initiate sex but he gets nervous and chickens out. If you tell him it’s okay and it’s hot and endearing that he’s so in love with you he’s going to blush and shy away (into your chest). If you don’t say anything and just immediately start giving him signs you want to fuck he’s going to over think it, despite the many times he’s been caught rewatching highlights of you in your games. If you tell him before hand that it’s okay and there’s no need to worry before you give him the fuck me eyes he’s gonna be much much calmer in the beginning.

He’s so egar to please you it’s so cute, lay him down and have your way with him please that’s all he wants. Well unless he wants to dom and top, it’s rare but it happens. If that happens he’s usually a soft dom, keyword usually. If he’s a hard dom be prepared to have to take at least an hour of aftercare. It’s not often that he gets the confidence to do something like that but when he does oh it’s amazing. It’s amazing but god you’re sore after. He feels bad after but with your reassurance he feels better about it. It happens so rarely it’s like a fever dream.

If he’s submissive, oh he’s just going to lay back and let you do all the work. And you’d best savor those sweet sounds he makes because he swears he’ll never make them again (he will. Just pound his ass he’ll be a mess).

[johannestevans]

So you finished Our Flag Means Death…

What show do you want to obsess over now?

Also read on Medium / / Read on Patreon.

So, Our Flag Means Death, unexpected workplace romcom chock-a-block with anachronistic 18th century fun, piracy on the high seas, gay and trans and otherwise genderweird and queer characters, not to mention neurodivergent and disabled ones, is over for at least another year. You’re aching for something of a similar flavour to fill the gap — especially if, like many of us, the finale has left you disappointed and eager to watch a show with a bit more care for its queer audiences.

Want recs?

After finishing Our Flag Means Death, I’m in the mood for…

Ed cradling Stede’s face in S1 of Our Flag Means Death. Via IMDb. 

… more (relatively) light-hearted queer comedy!

The most obvious example I can start with is, of course, What We Do In The Shadows. While its fifth season was weak, its sixth season was in my opinion its best ever — a spin-off of the Taika Waititi-directed (and starring) mockumentary film of the same name, WWDITS is a fun-filled, ridiculous and deeply silly show starring a variety of incompetent and bumbling and blood-thirsty vampires and their various friends, enemies, and companions. It’s constantly and continuously queer, with the majority of the cast of characters being openly bisexual, and one of them being gay and having an emotive coming-out arc with his family.

Nandor (Kayvan Novak) and Guillermo de la Cruz (Harvey Guillén) in WWDITS. Via IDMb. 

WWDITS follows the adventures of Guillermo de la Cruz, fat and gay and badass and so fucking pretty, the familiar to a vampire named Nandor the Relentless, a big himbo ex-warrior plagued by insecurity and ready to enter in power struggles with anybody from a fellow warrior to a household appliance, and the rest of Nandor’s household — Laszlo Cravensworth (once an English aristocrat, still a dandy, charming, slutty, and well-spoken — and often tinkering with experiments or DIY), Nadja of Antipaxos (once an impoverished member of a Mediterranean village, dramatic, intelligent, sharp-witted, and wry — and often getting involved in various misadventures), and Colin Robinson (an “emotional vampire” who feeds by boring those about him, dull, mundane, and painfully cringe at all times in the best of ways). As a mockumentary, its tone is silly and light-hearted, but it’s not without its emotional stakes, and there’s so many references to other pop culture vampires. 

The BBC’s sitcom, Ghosts, is a great sitcom to go for if you’re in the mood for more of a neurodivergent found family vibe, with sumptuous costumes and a complex and intriguing cast who have a lot of wonderful moments with each other. The show follows Alison and Mike, who inherit a manor house and find when they start to refurbish it that it’s full to the brim with silly, ridiculous, and unrelentingly friendly — not to mention antagonistic — ghosts. Ghosts, like Our Flag Means Death claimed to be prior to its S2 finale, is a tremendously loving and kind show — it spends a lot of its time building up flawed characters and encouraging them to change and grow, giving you time as a viewer to love them. 

See any familiar faces? Many of the Ghosts cast also appear in Horrible Histories. Via IMDb. 

The show is not as continuously or constantly queer as WWDITS, but it does have elements of queerness dotted around the main cast, particularly in the character of the Captain, the ghost of a WW1 soldier who was never deployed abroad, but spent his time in service yearning for the intimate company of a fellow soldier. 

Brendan Scannell and Zoe Levin in Bonding. Via IMDb. 

Want something a little weirder, a little kookier? Crave a bit more of the BDSM flavouring around Our Flag, more whips, more leather, more latex, more kink? You might like to try Bonding — this show features a woman who begins moonlighting as a dominatrix and then employs her gay BFF as her assistant. It suffers from the tendency shows like this have to sideline Pete a bit as the gay BFF, with some of his characterisation being squandered to prop up the less interesting protagonist, but it’s really funny and honestly super heartfelt. 

And if you want really weird, really kooky, and unabashedly and delightfully and wonderfully queer, there is always The Gay and Wondrous Life of Caleb Gallo, which is a gorgeously funny and loving gay comedy that you can watch online!

Apart from those above, you might like to try Special (a sitcom exploring the romantic and sexual misadventures of a deeply selfish and flawed character a la Stede Bonnet, this one a young gay man with cerebral palsy), Schitt’s Creek (a sitcom about a posh family falling on hard times and featuring several queer characters, particularly the bisexual David Rose, played by Dan Levy), and Grace and Frankie (a show about two ageing women who are best friends, and whose husbands leave them to start a romance with one another). 

… more of the stunning cast!

You’ve watched Our Flag Means Death and you’re craving more of the spectacular and incredibly skilled cast. 

If you want more of Nathan Foad (Lucius Spriggs) particularly, you’re in luck — last year, Foad wrote and served as executive producer on a show loosely inspired by his early life as a weird boy growing up gay in Nottinghamshire, Newark, Newark. It’s very silly, funny, full to the brim with love, and also deeply silly and willing to get in touch with the cringe side of life. It’s only three episodes, but starring the unparalleled Morgana Robinson as the harried mother of Leslie, the closeted-but-not sixteen-year-old who is trying desperately to lead the tragic gay life he’s seen on TV, it really makes the most of that limited runtime, and it’s so fucking good. Nathan Foad even has a cameo in it as a freaky and overfamiliar employee at the bowling alley. 

He has a cameo in another great show, too — Bloods is an incredible sitcom about two NHS paramedics working in an ambulance together. It’s rapid-paced, it’s messy, it’s horrible and hilarious, and it stars Jane Horrocks as Wendy across from Our Flag’s Samson Kayo (Oluwande) as Maleek. The two are chalk and cheese in the front seat of their ambulance together, and Kayo is so incredible in the lead role balancing Maleek’s own desire to appear as cool and tough whilst also being vulnerable and having his own insecurities, especially because Wendy challenges him on so many points. Wendy is great as well, the two an exercise in contrasts, but Kayo and Horrocks are spectacular among an equally spectacular cast — you get to see so many different dynamics at the depot and in other settings, amongst other NHS staff, and the show is non-stop with the punches and the punchlines. If you really enjoy how well-balanced and how fitting the soundtrack to Our Flag is, you’ll love the music and its pacing in Bloods. Foad’s cameo in this is as Wendy’s neurotic and kind of a fuck-up son, and he’s so messy.

If you want more of Joel Fry (Frenchie), he stars in the first few seasons of Plebs — this is a goofy comedy set in Ancient Rome, and it’s not dissimilar to The Inbetweeners in its tone and content. Some of the jokes are funny, sometimes. I don’t recommend it because it really gives Joel Fry his full acting chops — but he’s hot and he’s funny and he’s cute in this, and even if you’re not super passionate about the show, if you like Frenchie, you probably will like Stylax too. 

Joel Fry and Con O’Neill (Izzy Hands) also both play characters in season 2 of Ordinary Lies, which is an anthology series, so you don’t need to watch season 1. The premise of the show each season is that the narrative jumps between characters in a workplace and explores the ramifications of the small lies they tell themselves and each other. While O’Neill’s role is a more typical set of lies that concerns adultery (or not), Fry’s involves vigilanteism and attempts at superheroism, and the plot is quite fun. This show is obviously a drama, and is tragically heterosexual on many points, but for all that, has its good and intriguing elements too. 

But what about Con O’Neill doing what he’s good at — playing wet, pathetic men? Very wet, very pathetic men? In Happy Valley, O’Neill plays a gloriously wet and pathetic man named Neil Ackroyd, who enters into a relationship with the protagonist, Catherine Cawood’s, sister, Clare. Clare is an alcoholic in recovery, as is Neil, and they have a really sweet and mutually supportive relationship — Neil’s particularly gorgeous in the most recent series, where he really dotes on Catherine’s grandson, Ryan, and he and Clare play a great duo. Neil is introduced in the beginning of season 2. 

The premise of the series is that Catherine Cawood, a police officer in Yorkshire, is attempting to solve crimes while at the same time her grandson, Ryan, is curious about and desires to make contact with his father, whom he has never met. Ryan’s mother was raped by his father and died by suicide after Ryan’s birth, whereon Catherine raised him alongside her sister. Happy Valley is a cop show, and Catherine Cawood is really funny as a character. She’s a deeply conservative and cruel, reactionary woman who constantly engages in police brutality whilst trampling over people’s rights — she believes that people are born evil and bad, effectively, and while she often talks about the effects poverty have on people’s outlooks, lifestyles, and actions, she can’t quite make that connection with her beliefs. As a cop show, it’s really interesting because it’s very pro-cop and tries to be on Catherine’s side for much of her crueller actions, but at the same time is so starkly blunt about the awful shit she does that it doesn’t exactly make you put faith in cops no matter the intent. Clare Cawood, and then Neil, are naturally far more critical of Catherine’s perspective. 

But if you really loved Izzy at his best in S2, if you love Izzy full of love whilst also being precise and cold and calculated in the defence of his family, if you love him beautiful and wonderful and unabashedly queer, you’ll undoubtedly adore Val, who appears in Uncle as the transfem and gorgeous dad of Gwen. Uncle isn’t a great TV show, it’s an example of one of those shows where they give a deeply dull cishet white dude who feels insecure a show where he sort of masturbates about how much he sucks and how he’s unlovable, but really, isn’t it on the people around him to love him anyway?

But Val is great. She’s so much fun, she’s funny and sharp and full of quips, she’s flirtatious, she’s hot, and she has some tremendous gender stuff going on as well as some gorgeous costuming throughout. If you like Uncle’s humour, watch all the episodes — if you don’t, just skip everything that doesn’t have Val in it. Val is where the good stuff is. 

Or don’t watch it at all, and just watch this scene pack on YouTube: 

Taika Waititi appears far more in great movies than he does TV shows, although he’s also one of the producers on Reservation Dogs, which is excellent — it’s a native-led and starring comedy series, and it rocks. Most of the time when Waititi does TV, it’s in cameos. 

Apart from the cameo he makes in the What We Do In The Shadows TV show, I mentioned in the sitcom section, Taika Waititi also appears in the Flight of the Conchords TV series, starring the band members of the band of the same name. Rhys Darby also appears in every episode as Jemaine and Bret’s fictional manager, Murray Hewitt, and Murray is such a fun, bizarre character — and with a wholly different facial hair situation than you might have imagined for him before. 

Wholly different facial hair. Via IMDb. 

… more sailors!

Pickings are slim for a good pirate show, or indeed, any good show with nautical flavours to it — scenes at sea are high budget and hard to shoot, and as was evident with much of Our Flag Means Death’s second season at the hands of HBO Max, many studios do not want to proffer the budget for such things. 

Let’s start with the best of recommendations — a show that’s unapologetically queer, anti-imperialist, anti-establishment, and full to the absolute brim with pirates, historical and fictional. Interested in Mary Read, Anne Bonny, Calico Jack, Benjamin Hornigold, Israel Hands, or of course, the inimitable Edward ‘Blackbeard’ Teach, real historical pirates who are portrayed and played with in the course of Our Flag Means Death, and want to see a very different take on them? Enjoy lesbians constantly scheming to kill each other, torture each other, and generally make one another miserable (sexual)? Read Treasure Island, perhaps, and ever wonder what came before?

Not-Yet-Captain Flint (Toby Stephens) and Thomas Hamilton (Rupert Penry-Jones) in Black Sails. Via IMDb. 

Black Sails has all of the above and more — while it is very queer and anti-establishment, I will say that it’s far more similar in tone to Game of Thrones than to OFMD. The comedy bits are hilarious in part because the stakes are so high, but Black Sails is firmly a drama, and a gritty, violent one at that. It lacks the escapism present in OFMD — there is constant and continuous sexual violence, brutal gore and brutality, racism, classism, deep misogyny and homophobia from the society around the characters. The characters on offer are varied and complex, flawed, and interesting, but your mileage may vary with how much you vibe with them. 

Making use of some of Starz’ old set pieces for Black Sails, including some of their ships, the new One Piece live-action reboot — an adaptation of the anime of the same name (itself an adaptation of the manga) — is a fast-paced, fantastical, and colourful new release. If what you loved about Our Flag was its playful relationship with real-life piracy and chronistic details, its flexibility with “reality” and its eagerness to play around with tropes and expectations, with its creation of found family through a ragtag and varied mix of individuals. What it isn’t, unfortunately, is textually or explicitly queer, let alone as unabashedly queer as Our Flag and Black Sails are respectively. 

HMS Terror and HMS Erebus sailing through the surface ice in The Terror. Via IMDb. 

If you’d rather have queer sailors at any cost than having ones that aren’t explicitly queer, there is, of course, season 1 of The Terror. Based off of Dan Simmons’ magical horror reimagining of the real events of the lost ships in the Arctic, the HMS Terror and HMS Erebus, the first season of this anthology horror series is itself a deeply anti-imperial story following the events of two British ships that become stranded on the ice whilst attempting to discover the North-West Passage, and in so doing poison themselves and the land and people around them. Stuck in place in a cold and unfamiliar environment that does not have sufficient resources to sustain them — and in any case, an environment and resources that as invaders of, they do not know how to live in relationship with — they are hunted by an Inuit spirit, a representation of and manifestation of the imbalance they’ve caused by their mere presence. 

The Terror has a few more explicitly gay dynamics in the book than in the TV show, but the show does feature an unstable, cannibalistic bastard of a man whose favourite hobbies are identity theft, violence, and emotional manipulation — and he’s gay. Representation win! 

As you might imagine from that description, The Terror is not a cheerful, happy show — it’s deeply violence and very at home with hopelessness, but has some fascinating exploration of British imperialism, whiteness, class dynamics, queer men on ships, and chilling horror. 

And it’s not a TV show, but I would be remiss if I did not mention and recommend Taika Waititi’s favourite romance movie — Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World (2003, dir. Peter Weir). Based off of Patrick O’Brien’s long-running Aubreyad, starting with Master and Commander, this film is about Captain Jack Aubrey and his duet partner and best friend (wink wink) Stephen Maturin, the ship’s surgeon. It’s a gorgeous film and while of course not explicit, it’s pretty fucking gay — although unlike the other pieces I’ve mentioned, as Napoleonic-era fanfiction about British navymen, it’s not nearly as critical of British imperialism as one might like, with the majority of the criticism coming from Maturin, and might leave a poor taste in the mouth compared to pieces more critical of the British imperial evil. 

… more queer period dramas and historical shows!

Anne Lister (Suranne Jones) contemplating her hat and gloves. Via IMDb. 

Let’s start with a historical drama — Gentleman Jack, starring Suranne Jones, is set in the early 1800s and is an biographical look at the life of the cryptic diarist and all around delightfully butch lesbian dirtbag, Anne Lister. Apart from the obviously intriguing concept, the show has some sumptuous costuming and set designs, and there are so many different characters and dynamics throughout. I’m always a sucker for an epistolary piece, and as it’s based off of Lister’s diaries, this show has a lot of epistle work throughout. 

If you’re a sucker for lesbians in period dramas, though, you might just like Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries — the eponymous Phryne Fisher is not the lesbian in question. She’s a flapper and private detective in 1920s Melbourne, complete with a little golden gun, and is very hetero — but her best friend, a doctor named Mac (short Elizabeth MacMillan), is gay, and she’s so much fun. Where Phryne is really high-energy and excitable, constantly jumping from idea to idea, Mac is a lot chiller and more smooth, and she’s so suave and so much fun. Miss Fisher is a fun show — alas, a cop show, but it’s a lot more light-hearted, and it does a lot of playful stuff with the period and particularly with costuming details and things like cars, weapons, and various inventions. 

Getting dressed and leaving the boytoy still abed. Via IMDb. 

If you’re open to a miniseries that’s a lot dirtier and nastier than much of the above, have I got the recommendation for you: A Very English Scandal. Starring a relatively innocent and easily manipulated Ben Whishaw across from the deliciously greasy and depraved Hugh Grant, this is a dramatisation of the Thorpe Affair — a political scandal in the UK in the late 1970s — and it’s so fun and so sexy. If whilst watching Our Flag you’ve been giggling and kicking your feet whenever the more fucked up shit goes on in intimate ways, you will almost certainly delight in this one. 

… more of… something. Surprise me!

You might have heard of NBC’s Hannibal, which is a gay take on the dynamic between Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham, but the same creator, Bryan Fuller, also did Pushing Daisies, which is a gorgeous 2-season show that was cancelled long before it ought have been. It explores intimacy at a necessary distance, and has some wonderful queer themes throughout, and stars Lee Pace. 

The new TV adaptation of Anne Rice’s books, Interview with the Vampire, is glorious — it’s openly and unabashedly gay, it’s so full to the brim with depth, and unlike other shows I can mention, it really doesn’t try to shy away from the cruelty of abuses in intimate relationships, or try to shift the blame for abuse entirely onto the back of the victim in a last-minute attempt to foster more sympathy for the abuser. Interview goes so deep into the loneliness and isolation of being separated from society’s mores and expectations, of how that isolation leaves you at much more risk of leverage and abuse by intimate partners, of the brittleness of found family under heavy pressure, and alongside all of that, like… 

It’s a vampire show! It’s sexy! It’s full of blood and horror and misery and grief — the grief of being alive when you should be dead, and at the same time, being halfway dead when you seem to be alive. It’s funny and it’s dark and it’s just full to the brim with poetry, has some honestly gorgeous dialogue, and on top of all that, it’s well-paced, beautifully costumed, and tremendously shot and scored. Watch!

Looking for queer movies, as well as TV shows? I have a big rec list of gay movies here:

[livingddeadgirlrl]

challengers smut cuz duhhh… who would i be if i didn’t write about it.

i didn’t rly proof read. it’s 5 am. but enjoy!!

cw: breeding, mating press, threesome, oral… yeah

wc: 1.9k LMFAOOO

lmk if u want a part 2, left it open ended :P

something about you was different. i mean, who would’ve thought that the scary lookin’ girl was an insane tennis player. sure you had a bit of a temper when it came to the court, but you played damn well. you could always spare a few profane penalty points. you were always great at intimidating your opponent. your looks alone–sleek black hair, tied into twintails. a tattoo on the back of your hand, and others scattered around your body, begging to be found. those dark eyes filled with rage and mystery. there was something different about you.

it was the last set of your match against some painfully racist white bitch from arizona state, and you were obviously in the lead. it was her serve. she swung once, hitting the ball into the net forcefully, resulting in a low chuckle from you on the opposing side of the court. you weren’t scared. she served once more, finally actually making it across the net, and hitting an underhand to try to throw you off. you smacked a backhand aggressively, slamming the ball into her service box with a loud echo. that was the end of the match. “COME ON!!! that’s too easy!!” you laughed out, almost sinisterly. everyone cheered for you. you were that mysterious player from the bay that had just entered the tournament, blowing your way up and through the ranks. all of the guys were in love with you. you were powerful on the court, and off of it. shaking your opponent's hand over the net, you congratulated her sarcastically, a scowl painted on her face. ‘what a sore loser, and a racist,’ you thought to yourself.

—

now you found yourself at the party of champions. a room filled with the male and female winners of the tournament. you stood in the corner, swirling your drink in hand, gazing into the liquid. none of the other female champions wanted to converse with you. honestly, they were intimidated. although you had just joined, your reputation preceded all of the circulating rumors. downing the rest of your drink, you straightened out your dress, a black strapless one bordered with black lace. your hair was loosely curled and draped over one side of your shoulder, revealing your delicate collarbones. you made your way to the drink table, set on pouring yourself another. if no one wanted to talk to you, at least you were getting free alcohol. your hand hesitated over which to choose, finally landing on the vodka.

“i know that hand tattoo when i see it. you’re f/n l/n, right?” a soft yet daring voice stated from behind you. finishing your pour, you turned around, faced with two of the cutest little twinks. god how you just loved men. to the right stood the one with curly brown hair, sparkling eyes, and a sharp nose. the left, a cute little blonde, blue eyes, and a defined face. they both towered over you, shockingly.

“hm.. i know you.. ‘fire and ice,’ right?”

they both let out a soft chuckle at the title. “yeah, guess that’s us. you know us?” the blonde countered.

“mhm, you guys are the successful pair, course i do. congrats on winning, patrick and art..,” you sipped your drink, leaving a soft red stain from your lips on the glass.

“hey well, you too. we just wanted to say, we love watching you play. i mean, it’s not even tennis anymore. you’re playing a whole different game out there,” the brunette joined in.

you let out a soft hum of approval. they recognized you. you looked up from your cup with a soft smirk, your gaze bouncing between the two of them. they certainly were intriguing, on and off the court. seemed a little gay, too.

—

few more drinks in your system, and you were now on the bed of their hotel room, bated breath as they sat on opposing sides of you. whatever you had gotten yourself into, you were definitely in for a time. each had a hand up your dress and on your thigh, rubbing soft circles into your hips. you turned your head to face patrick, eyes fixated on his lips as you let them hover over his own for a bit to tease him. then, you turn to face art, not kissing patrick juuust yet. you press your lips to art’s, sucking on his bottom lip softly, causing him to let out a soft whine. it was so cute. patrick’s calloused fingers trailed up your torso and to your breast, pulling down the top of your dress slowly. he immediately cupped your soft and full breasts in his hands, inching his mouth closer to the skin, his breath slightly tickling your pebbled nipple. he latched onto it with his hot mouth, swirling your sensitive bud around with his tongue in a circular motion, making you moan softly into art’s mouth. you pull away from the heated kiss, a small string of saliva stretching from your connected lips. with an already hazy expression, you look down at their laps. god, they both had big dicks, both forming a substantial tent in their boxers, decorated with damp patches of precum. art’s fingers carefully unzipped the back of your dress, helping you pull it over your head as you lifted your arms. you lean on your side into patrick’s lap, helping him shift his boxers down his waist, allowing his hardened cock to spring out and almost smack you in the mouth. as you took his length in your delicate hand, art shifted his positioning to rest on his knees at the foot of the bed. with careful fingers, he hooked them under the black lace of your panties, shifting them to the side to reveal you in all of your holiness. your sweet, pink and puffy folds, already glistening with your slick. patrick’s hands laced through your silky hair, holding it back for you as you took his fat tip into your warm mouth. he leaned backwards on the bed, propping himself up on his elbow as he watched you, and the scene unfolding before him. you swirl your tongue around the swollen head of his cock, giving a few kitten licks. after being trapped in a mesmerizing trance, art finally dove practically head first into your dripping pussy, lips latching onto your sensitive clit, making you whimper softly with patrick’s length in your mouth. art traced his index and middle finger around your slit, teasing it softly as his tongue circled your puffy clit relentlessly, making you cry out softly as you gasped for air on patrick’s dick.

“go easy, art… can’t have her finishing just yet…” he groaned out in a husky tone, pulling you up gently off of his length by your hair. art chuckled lowly, crawling back up onto the bed beside you. he laid back, his back pressed against the headboard as he pulled you by your hips to sit on top of his lap. he pumped his cock a few times, positioning it against your slit as you look down at him with a half-lidded gaze. patrick rested on his knees right behind you, grasping onto your hips and slowly pressing you down, forcing you to take in art’s cock inch by inch.. oh so slowly. he pressed hot kisses to the crook of your neck, trailing down to your shoulder as art thrusted into you, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. fuck it felt so good. patrick’s hands cupped your tits again, massaging them roughly as they bounced up and down with the force of art’s plunges into your squelching cunt.

“fuck’she’s so tight… feels so good..” art muttered out, watching patrick grope your tits with his large hands.

“think i can fuck ya better, princess..?” patrick whispers, his breath tickling the shell of your ear. you let out a soft and incoherent mumble, unable to properly speak as art’s tip threatened that spongy spot of your pussy that made your head go blank with each growing thrust. art’s eyes were glued to the two of you above him–your head thrown back into patrick’s shoulder, hair cascading down his arm as you gasped softly for air. patrick’s rough fingertips making their way down to massage your clit, adding more pressure to that growing knot in your stomach. you let out another soft whine, pressing your fingertips into art’s abdomen to try to stabilize yourself, even just for a moment. patrick’s fingers traced upward to your lower stomach, pressing the outline of art’s cock as it reached even further, causing you to writhe softly in his grip.

“guess pretty boy got a pretty big dick, huh…” patrick teases softly, resulting in a breathless scoff from art.

art had heard enough of patrick’s remarks. he stopped his thrusts, picked you up from under your ass, and pressed you into the sheets. he was now looming over you, and folding your legs above your head. it’s a good thing you were flexible.. patrick moved to sit just above your head by the headboard, holding your legs firmly in position by your knees with the back of your head rested on his lap. oh god you were in for it now. art pressed a soft kiss to your lips before tapping his leaking cock in between your soaked folds again, sinking into you with deep pressure and determination. he had to make sure he bottomed out.

“m’fuck….!!” you mustered out in a shaky voice, your body twitching once again.

art immediately picked up the pace, pulling his cock out almost all the way and plunging back into you, causing an awfully lewd squelching sound to emit from your dripping cunt. you let out another soft cry, your head and eyes rolling back in patrick’s lap. patrick gently caressed the skin of your legs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you looked up at him with fucked out eyes. art was letting out a soft mixture of moans and whines now, pounding into you at a brutal pace with extreme fervor. he couldn’t pick a place to look at. your bouncing tits that matched his pace, patrick’s seductive expression as he watched his dick disappear in your pussy, or your desperate face– tears threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes, your mouth hanging open, back arched as soft cries escaped. it was all so much. he felt it now. he pumped into you at an insane pace, his hips stuttering as he shot hot and thick ropes of cum into you, reaching so deep. he slowed his pace, giving a few more languid thrusts as he slowly pulled out, watching his cum explicitly drip out of your sore pussy.. boy was it a sight! patrick let go of your legs slowly, putting them back down on the bed in their normal position as he caressed your jaw softly, letting you catch your breath for a moment.

“my turn~” he crooned softly into the shell of your ear, his smirk hitting your soft skin, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

[strawberrywinter4]

Fic Request:

John wanting to be in a relationship (no he's not gay (he might be gay for one hat wearing genius maybe~)) attends a speed dating event in which Sherlock insists on sitting next to him for so he doesn't end up with 'another terribly boring woman'.

And then Sherlock proceeds to sassily analyze each one because let's be honest he wants to be John's date.

Thank you so much for the prompt! I loved writing this story, it was so much fun <3

Pick and Choose

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Tags: Pining John, Eventual Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Getting Together, Speed Dating, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Jealous Sherlock Holmes, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Make Out Sessions, Kissing, Neck Kissing, Humor, Fluff, Some Angst, Teacups break, Swearing

Rating: Mature

Read here on ao3.

*•*•*•*•

John wants to dig himself a hole and never come out. 

Speed dating was never a strategy he thought he would have to resort to, but here he is. The venue is nice, held in one of the hotels on the high end of town, though the participation payment was surprisingly cheap, why not? The food is decent and the interior is pleasing to look at, with white curtains, windows that showcase the streets of London, round tables scattered across the spacious room, and a sparkling chandelier to top off the scenery. 

There are a lot more people attending than John thought. Beautiful women are seen from across the room and now that he thinks about it, maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all. He put on his best button-up shirt, one that matches his eyes (he thinks, at least), and though his hair didn’t wish to cooperate today, he still managed to comb it decently. 

“You know you look quite ridiculous staring at the various sweets in front of you. I suggest if you’d like something, simply take it.”

The familiar baritone voice shatters John’s thoughts. 

Slowly, he turns to see Sherlock looking at him impassively. John blinks in disbelief. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” John demands. 

“I don’t understand how you could attend such an event,” Sherlock says, dismissing John’s question. “Why do this when you could be on the case I offered?”

“I-”

“You told me you were visiting your sister. Next time don’t make a lie up on the spot, it was painfully obvious.”

“Sherlock-”

“I solved the case if you were wondering,” Sherlock says. “It was simple, too simple. I’ll have to ask Lestrade for a better one. Hardly a 5.”

“Sherlock,” John interrupts. “I’m not going to ask again. Why are you here?”

“To save you from disaster,” Sherlock tells him. “I knew you were desperate, John, but this is unnecessary.” 

“Well, you scare off all my other ones,” John retorts, releasing a strenuous sigh.

“If you’re really set on getting a pathetic girlfriend, fine. But I’ll have to decide if she’s adequate.”

John stares in shock. “No… no. Why do you have to decide?”

“No offense, John, but you’re not very good at choosing your partners. They always get in the way of the Work.”

“Or maybe the Work gets in the way of them,” John offers with gritted teeth. 

“Unlikely,” Sherlock murmurs, observing the venue. A buzzer sounds, a cue for everyone to get settled in their seats. “You’ll hardly know I’m here,” Sherlock promises. 

John highly doubts that. 

John takes a seat at a table in the back, his confidence in this situation decreasing by the second. Sherlock grabs a discarded chair and places it close to John, taking a seat. John looks at Sherlock briefly, watching the detective take off his scarf, revealing his long neck that looks quite delectable, if John’s being honest-

But of course, that’s a normal reaction. Sherlock is an attractive person and John will notice that from time to time. That doesn’t make him interested in Sherlock, that just means-

“John?” a woman’s voice asks. 

John realizes he’s been staring at Sherlock for a long period of time. He feels his cheeks heat and turns to the pretty woman, who has a curious smile on her lips. 

“Hi,” John greets. “How did you- oh… right. Name tag. Hah.”

“Obviously,” Sherlock mumbles and John steps on his foot for his troubles. Sherlock scowls, kicking John’s foot back in retaliation. John takes a sip of his drink to calm himself.

“Um… is this like a threesome thing?” the woman asks as she takes a seat, eyeing the two men with slight interest.

John almost chokes on his drink. “Uh- no. No, sorry. This- don’t mind him. He’s my…”

“No one in particular,” Sherlock chimes in.

“Yes. That.”

“Oh,” the woman says, nodding. “Well, I’m-”

“Charlotte,” John says, his chin jutting to her nametag with a smile. “Beautiful name.”

Charlotte blushes, giggling as she waves a hand at John bashfully. John can practically feel Sherlock roll his eyes. 

“So, Charlotte, what do you do?” John asks. 

“Accounting,” she responds, twirling a piece of her raven hair. “Summarizing financial transactions and all that.”

“She has two cats,” Sherlock murmurs, his voice low enough so that she’s unable to hear him.

“I quite like it,” Charlotte continues. “It’s not what I’d actually like to do, but it’s enough.”

“Protective father,” Sherlock analyzes. “He’d be a nuisance. He contacts her at least four times a day.”

“What I’d really like to do is be a flight attendant so I can get out of this fucking city and explore the world,” she says, frustration slipping into her voice. “I hate it here, actually.”

“Oh, uh- I’m sorry to hear that,” John sympathizes, shifting in his seat.

“Nicely dressed, cleaned jewelry, she’s being provided great sums of money,” Sherlock says.

“Sorry, did you say something?” Charlotte asks, eyes going to Sherlock. 

Sherlock gives his signature fake smile. “Not at all.”

The buzzer goes off and Charlotte stands, huffing a breath of relief. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, George!” she says as she rushes away. 

John stares, watching her go. What just happened?

“And extremely disorganized,” Sherlock concludes. 

“God, I don’t need you spitting your deductions in my ear every second,” John scolds. 

“I’m assisting,” Sherlock retorts. “Quite wonderfully, if you must know.”

Another woman with blonde locks takes a seat across John. John’s about to say something before the woman holds up her hand, gesturing for him to shush. 

John blinks in bewilderment, but stays silent, looking around uncomfortably.

“Her sister forced her to attend,” Sherlock murmurs. “She has no interest in you or in any men for that matter.”

John wants to ignore Sherlock, but his curiosity is piqued. “Who’s she texting, then?” John whispers. 

“A coworker. She’s dedicated to her work, seeing as she has an outline of a second device in her pocket. The phone which she’s messaging on is her work device while the phone in her pocket is her personal device.” Sherlock makes a noise of disagreement. “Quite troublesome.”

The woman puts her hand down and finally looks at John, not bothering to show interest. 

“Uh- hello,” John tries.

“My name is Gabriella and your name is John, hence the name tag.” She sighs irritably. “I’m sure you’re a nice man, but in all honesty, you’re not my type. Do you know when this whole thing ends?”

“Oh, I-”

“Do you?” Gabriella asks, eyes landing on Sherlock. 

“An hour,” Sherlock responds. 

“God, this is torture.”

“If you really didn’t wish to come, you should have just denied your sister’s pleas,” Sherlock says absentmindedly. 

John shuts his eyes tight, knowing Sherlock’s forwardness never ends well. Gabriella’s jaw drops, her eyes flaring in anger. 

“I beg your pardon?” she asks. 

“Your sister is persistent, but her excessive guilt-tripping seems to control every aspect of your life.” Sherlock furrows his brows, his focus pointing toward the tablecloth. “My Lord, this is craft fabric. Practically plastic! How could they initiate such a dull detail when they hold this event in a sumptuous setting?”

“This is ill-mannered!” Gabriella argues. 

“Quite,” Sherlock agrees. “If they can afford this hotel, they can certainly afford better fabric.”

“No, you’re assumptions are ill-mannered,” Gabriella clarifies. She huffs, scooting her chair out aggressively before stomping away. 

John sighs, slumping in his chair as his hand rubs over his face. 

“I never assume,” Sherlock says matter-of-factly. 

“She couldn’t even sit with me for ten minutes,” John murmurs. 

“It’s hardly your fault, John. She simply doesn’t know how to prioritize her life.”

The buzzer goes off again. Just as John begins to lose hope, a woman with brunette hair and freckles surrounding her nose sits across John. She smiles kindly, shaking John’s hand. 

“Hello,” she greets. 

“Hi, um…” John’s eyes study her name tag. “Amelia.”

“John,” she says, taking her hand back. She chuckles. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not very good at this sort of stuff.”

“Oh, I completely understand,” John says, laughing with her.

Amelia’s eyes land on Sherlock, an unsure expression settling on her face. John waves him off, which Sherlock glares at. 

“Don’t mind him. Um- so, Amelia, what do you do?”

“I’m a veterinarian,” she tells him. 

John nods. “That’s quite the job.”

“Oh, yes, but… I enjoy it so much,” she says, giving a genuine smile. 

“I admire a person who’s dedicated to their work,” John says, a grin playing his lips. 

John would be lying if he said his mind didn’t drift to Sherlock.

No. No. Sherlock is out of the question.

“And you?” Amelia asks. 

“Uh- well, I was in the army. Now I work at a clinic,” John explains. "I'm a doctor."

She smiles. “How noble. Now that is very admiring.”

John is about to respond before Sherlock cuts in, “Recently separated.”

The air turns quiet. Amelia’s eyes flutter as if her mind is breaking a haze. “Sorry, what?” she questions. 

“No. Uh- don’t mind him,” John tries, but Sherlock is having none of it. 

“You still contact your ex-husband, obviously not over him. You came to this event to get your mind off him, meet someone new to discard the pain, but that won’t work.” Sherlock releases a long breath, showcasing his boredom. “If you’re still so attached to him, it’s probably best to stay out of another relationship. Bringing your secondary relationship problems into another relationship can cause an immense amount of conflict.”

Amelia stares at Sherlock, her pain evident. She stands and leaves without a word. 

John swallows, trying to process what just occurred. 

“You’re welcome,” Sherlock says. “I saved you from months of unnecessary complications.”

John’s knee bounces, agitated. John releases a humorless laugh. “Sherlock, that was extremely unkind.”

Sherlock furrows his brows. “She was still emotionally attached to her ex husband. I informed you of-”

“I don’t need your help!” John snaps, turning to Sherlock. “I don’t know why you’re being so bloody invasive in my romantic affairs, but I’m fucking sick of it, Sherlock. Go bother someone else for a change, hm? Go ruin someone else’s evenings, for Christ’s sake..”

With that, John stands and strides out of the hotel, not bothering to look back at the detective. As the cool London air hits John’s face, he hails a cabbie, getting into the vehicle. He stares out the window, trying not to think of the devastating expression on Sherlock’s face.

—

221B is quiet. 

John has been up in his room for the past few hours, the events of this afternoon swirling through his head. 

He’s changed out of his formal clothing, settling for a simple t-shirt and pajama bottoms. He lays in bed, staring up at the bland ceiling. Running a hand through his hair, he lets out a sigh, his thoughts coming back in full circle. 

He shouldn’t have yelled at Sherlock like that. John knows Sherlock was just trying to help (though he has an odd way of showing it). 

It’s endearing, really, how Sherlock’s mind works. John has always found it fascinating. 

The way Sherlock can look at something and acquire a fact of a thought, not only an assumption. The way he gets excited by the strangest and most perplexing things. The way most describe him as heartless, but he sympathizes with people in his own, unique way that’s difficult to understand but incredibly captivating to watch. 

The way he just sees things differently… that’s what piqued John’s interest from the start. 

The way his eyes light up when he’s analyzing a situation thoroughly, picking apart every aspect with precision. The way he has highs of anticipation for a case, but afterward he takes long breaks for himself, picking a specific place to sleep for hours. 

John is utterly in love. 

John suspected the realization would be surprising, that it would come in heavy waves, but it comes to him in a smooth sailing stream. Of course he’s in love with Sherlock Holmes. He’s known it for the longest time. It was only denial that was blocking the thought from his mind, the constant “I’m not gay” accusations only a way to escape reality. 

But no. John knows it’s time to face the reality, even if it is, for some reason, difficult. He’s in love with Sherlock Holmes. 

More like, he’s obsessed with the man. Fascination doesn’t even begin to describe the appeal he has for Sherlock. 

Just then, a knock sounds at the door. 

John stands, his knees slightly shaky from lying down for so long. Cracking his neck, he walks to the door. He takes a deep breath and opens the door, revealing Sherlock with a cup of tea in his hands. 

Sherlock looks unsure, almost like a kicked puppy. 

Guilt builds up in John’s chest for handling the situation so harshly.

Sherlock clears his throat, holding up the cup. “Tea,” he says. “I um- I made you tea.”

John stares at him, his heart swelling. 

“I apologize,” Sherlock whispers, looking away. “I was inconsiderate. I- I should have left you alone with your romantic affairs. You can… you can date whoever you’d like. Of course you can. I um- I suppose I… I just don’t want you interacting romantically with anyone who will be wasting your time.” Sherlock pauses, then shakes his head. “That sounds inconsiderate as well. What I meant was that most people are idiotic and they don’t deserve you…” Sherlock’s hands clench around the teacup. “No. Wait. That sounds… that sounds… that’s not what I meant. What I-”

“Sherlock.”

Sherlock stops talking, eyes flickering up to John. Gently, John cups Sherlock’s face as he steps closer. The detective’s cheeks flare considerably. John pauses, searching Sherlock’s eyes for any protest. 

There’s none. 

John kisses him. 

Everything is still. It’s silent besides the occasional sound of a vehicle passing by Baker Street in the dark of the night.

The kiss is tender, both of the men staying still. John pulls back, opening his eyes slowly. Sherlock seems stunned. 

John clears his throat, stepping back. “Fuck. Sorry, I- I thought…” He laughs awkwardly. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock, I-”

John is interrupted by glass shattering on the floor. The next thing John knows, he’s practically getting pounced on by a six-foot detective. 

Sherlock holds John’s face and presses his lips against his desperately, earnestly. Once John gains back his cognitive function, he kisses Sherlock back, holding his waist tightly. John doesn’t know how they ended up at the end of the room, but his knees hit the edge of the bed and he falls back onto the sheets with a grunt. Sherlock follows him, climbing atop him and straddling him. John makes a noise of encouragement, his hang gliding up to tangle through Sherlock’s curls. 

Sherlock’s lips move against John’s eagerly, kissing him into oblivion. John chuckles and pulls back slightly so that he can catch his breath—disappointment forms on Sherlock’s features. 

“Did I- am I doing it wrong?” Sherlock asks.

“What? No. No, of course not,” John reassures. “Just…” John nudges his nose against Sherlock’s. “Slowly,” he whispers in instruction. 

John brings Sherlock’s head down, capturing the detective’s lips. John sets a slower pace this time, allowing himself to get lost in the sensation. 

Sherlock’s lips are plump, a wonder to taste. Sherlock groans, following John’s movements as he glides his thumbs across the doctor’s jaw adoringly. John shivers at the movement. 

Yeah. He’ll never get tired of kissing Sherlock. 

John sucks in a breath, giving Sherlock’s lips several pecks before leaning back. Sherlock makes a noise of complaint. John grins, squeezing the detective’s waist. 

“I know. I know, love,” he whispers against his lips. “Just two things.”

“Make it quick,” Sherlock demands, his lips already trailing down John’s jaw. 

John huffs a laugh, his mind already getting distracted by the sensation of Sherlock’s eager kisses against his skin. “Well, you’re cleaning up the broken glass.”

“And making you another cup of tea,” Sherlock says, sucking a particular spot on John’s neck. “Obviously.”

“Mhm. Y-Yep. Obviously. And-”

“And?”

“And…” John cups Sherlock’s face and makes the detective look at him. “And I’m sorry for being such a dick to you. I shouldn’t have yelled.”

“Don’t, John. I deserved-”

“Stop,” John interjects softly. “You never deserve that, Sherlock. Never.” John’s thumb soothes Sherlock’s cheekbone. “You’re brilliant. Everything about you is brilliant. My evenings are never ruined because of you. Nothing is ruined because of you. You’ve made my life better and I need you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that before.”

Sherlock stares at him, his breath shallow. “So you… you want me?”

John laughs. “I thought us snogging made that clear?”

Sherlock grins. “I’m not sure I’m fully convinced.”

“Mm. Well, then.” In a swift movement, John flips their positions, Sherlock now on his back and John straddling him. Sherlock inhales a shaky breath, his eyes full of anticipation. John leans down, his breath hot against Sherlock’s lips. “I guess I’ll have to convince you in full.”

Sherlock’s arms wrap around John’s neck, his long fingers running through John’s hair. “Please do.”

*•*•*•*•

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @sherlocknjohn221b @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @itsonlytext @7-percent @chinike @peanitbear @mary-johnlocked @bakerstreetbe @curlyjohnlock @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @ceceliajupe @tindomerelhloni-official @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @jolieblack

(Please let me know if you don’t wish to be tagged or if you’d like to be tagged. Thank you for the reblogs!!💞)

[addsalwayssick]

For the drabble

60 and 61 please

so i’m making these separate bc i’m not quite sure how to combine them, but if you want me to try and figure it out js lmk and i will !! xx (one will be jegulus and one will be wolfstar but if you had another ship in mind lmk and i’ll rewrite xx)

60- ‘before you murder me, hear me out’

Regulus didn’t think he would be in this situation. It was dark, and though he should have, he wasn’t sleeping. He was wide awake, staring at the ceiling. He’d heard his window start to open, and he immediately shot up from his bed and looked at the window. Regulus, only being 14 years old, knew he was going to get murdered that night. He watched painfully, stuck in his spot from his bed as the window slowly slid open and a man started climbing through. The man hopped in, freezing as he saw Regulus. The man didn’t rush him, like Regulus expected. He felt his confusion grow, snapping on a lamp beside his bed. He felt himself blush as he saw James standing there. Had he come there for him?

“James?” Regulus asked, getting up.

“Regulus. Hi. Before you murder me, hear me out.” James said.

Regulus felt his heart break a little, knowing he was about to hear his excuse, how it was an accident. “Go on.”

“So i was going to Sirius’s room-“ James started, and Regulus immediately scowled. “And then I decided I didn’t want to go to Sirius’s room, because i missed you.”

Regulus felt himself go pink again. “Missed me? Are you sure you just don’t feel bad because you climbed into my room by accident?”

James grinned sheepishly. “I’ve been climbing into Sirius’s window since I was 9. I wanted to see you.”

Regulus smiled, a warmth in his heart growing. He walked to James, pressing his lips to James’s. James didn’t kiss back at first, in shock, but eventually started to.

61- “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

Remus didn’t want to get married. He knew it was a lost cause to argue with his parents. They weren’t really his parents, only the people who adopted him after his own parents died at the age of 14. He missed them dearly.

So here he sat in his bedroom with Sirius Black next to him. He’d had a crush on Sirius since the day he met him. He knew Sirius didn’t feel the same way. It didn’t matter, as he would be getting married to a woman named Marlene Mckinnon. Remus liked Marlene, he did, just not like that. Marlene was kind and sarcastic, and nearly as gay as Remus was. He knew she was in love with a woman named Dorcas Meadowes, just as she knew he was in love with Sirius.

“Are you excited to get married?” Sirius asked quietly after a long stretch of silence.

Remus scoffed at him, letting his head fall back on his bed frame. “Fat chance.”

Sirius smiled at him a bit, lighting a cigarette. Remus’s adopted parents were out, the only reason Sirius was even there. They didn’t like Sirius much, refusing to let him into their home. Remus did it behind their backs, and he did most everything.

Sirius, after smoking the cigarette, let his head rest on Remus’s shoulder. “Will things change when you’re married?”

Remus sighed. “I hope not.” Remus was only 17, and was to be married on his 18th birthday.

He hoped to get a divorce from Marlene quickly, rather than staying married. His birthday was in a week, and it was his last week as a ‘free man’. He and Marlene had decided to be allowed to date whoever they wanted, because neither of them felt any love other than friendship for each other.

Remus felt his phone ring, picking it up and putting it to his ear. “Remus Lupin.” His adopted mother growled into his ear.

“Clarisse.” Hé answered.

“I know you’re with that Sirius boy. I won’t be having any of it. We’ve moved your wedding to this afternoon. I expect you here in 30 minutes in your tux. If you’re not, there will be consequences. That boy is not invited.” She said, hanging up the phone.

Remus’s eyes widened in panic. Sirius, who could also hear her words also started to panic. They turned to each other as Remus felt tears slipping down his cheeks. Sirius wiped each of them off, offering to drive him to the venue.

Remus nodded. He felt numb and cold as they drove. He started to get out of the car before he felt a warm hand on his arm. He turned back, expecting an apologetic look from Sirius, but instead seeing a panicked look. Sirius was breathing hard, tears in his eyes. “Sirius?”

“Remus, I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.” He said, desperately clutching Remus’s arm.

Remus sputtered. “You’re what?”

“I’m sorry, i’m sorry I just-“

Remus leaned in and kissed him, getting back in the car. He shut the door behind him. “Drive.” Remus said. Remus texted Marlene, telling her what happened. She texted back in full support. [Fiance ;(: Period! You go king. I’ll try and delay our parents. I’ll make an excuse for you xx! Get as far away as you can.]

And he did.

He did end up getting married, nearly 2 years later. But this time it was to Sirius.

[locution-youngster-enjoyer]

Hey guys another one of these things (I’m insane I’m crazy)

Further explanation under the cut:

(Tw: suggestive)

Neither of them are exactly out to the public. Beau actively goes out of his way to hide any sort of relationship he may have ever had with any men. Seymour’s situation is funnier because he’s not hiding it like Beau is, he just never brings it up. Like he’ll be telling a story and the conversation would basically go:

“Bla bla- and this guy I hooked up with this one time-“

“Wait you’re gay??”

“Huh? Not really, anyway-“

He then never elaborates.

Seymour is the horniest mf imaginable (not really, but he’s got a high libido). Beau is not against it, but he’s nowhere near Seymour’s freakiness (I hate how I said that)

Seymour is way more touchy then Beau is. In public, they’ll hold hands at most usually, but it depends.

They’ve both got issues that they haven’t professionally worked out- I’ve explained in my AU that the state of their relationship is messy. They go from friends to lovers to enemies back to lovers. Once they settled back down together, they both considering getting therapy.

Before they get back together, it’s important to know they never got over initially breaking up. While they both have had their moments of trying to move on, the whole time they felt horrible because deep down they were still in love with each other.

They are doomed by MY narrative. Objectively, I think I put Seymour through more shit-

I should clarify: they don’t really spoon. They cling to each other

So the creator of this chart explained that the weapon vs wielder thing is basically who’s the protector and who’s the protected. While they’ve gotten better at balancing out who is who, Seymour is way more defensive in general, while Beau isn’t.

Beau sleeps in robes in the warmer months and silky long sleeved pajamas in the winter. Seymour for a while didn’t bother with pajamas of any kind and usually just sleeps in his underwear or with his clothes still on (Beau bought him new clothes to sleep in)

Seymour acts more jealous of Beau going off to do things without him, but it’s mostly just the separation anxiety from how long they’ve been apart from each other.

They’ve both got some nice rizz (I hate how I said this as well)

They’re both in weird places in society and are used to talking to different kinds of people, but Beau is generally more awkward when it comes to small talk.

What keeps them together?:

In terms of canon things that keep them together, there’s nothing but implications because they’ve got one interaction but it is full of such drama. Also I’ve written an entire backstory for them because I’m crazy about these two.

What is keeping them/kept them apart?:

I’ve explained their whole backstory in another post but I’ll explain their breakup part again here.

Basically, Seymour grew up much poorer, while Beau’s family were filthy rich. They had kept their initial relationship a secret from most people, but since they wanted to get married, Seymour thought it was best if they told their families, which Beau was hesitant about. When they told Beau’s parents, they basically insulted Seymour for being poor. This pissed Seymour off, not because of what the parents said, but because Beau refused to speak up against them and defend them, which made Seymour call the wedding off on the spot.

Afterwards, Seymour ran away from home, and since no one knew where he went, Beau was completely crushed and assumed he had died. After several years, they both picked up acting jobs, and while they never really interacted, they were both made painfully aware of each others existences as they both grew in popularity. While Beau never said anything, he was kinda upset to hear that Seymour resorted to crime.

So in short: the fact they could never really talk to each other normally and settle their problems is what kept them apart for so long.

Poorly describe their meetcute (how they met):

Consenting to be waterboarded

No. I’m not clarifying.

List their reductive fandom tropes/fandom appeal

Uhhh- enemies to lovers i guess is what they are

Touch stuff (Seymour)

Like I mentioned, Seymour is way more touchy, whoever there are some exceptions.

I didn’t mention this in my long backstory post, but Seymour has several scars on his head from getting his hair yanked to much when he was a kid. That, plus him being afraid of other people ruining his hair, makes him very hesitant to let anyone touch his head.

While he doesn’t dislike having his legs touched, it more depends the context. He fidgets and stims primarily with his legs.

He’s also very defensive and grew up with a rough background and in a rough neighborhood, so in certain contexts he may view it as getting attacked (particularly in the green areas)

Touch stuff (Beau)

Beau is not as touchy as Seymour and has more boundaries.

Beau in my AU is a germaphobe. He typically wears gloves, so holding his hand is fine, but he gets a lot more reluctant to touch anything he’s not sure is clean when his gloves are off. This also applies to his face. While he doesn’t mind someone holding his cheek, or their hand in his hair, he want nothing near his mouth.

With Seymour, he loves having his waist held. Plus, he’s a dancer and used to do a lot of ballet, so he’s really used to it.

That’s it, always love getting to rant about the gay show hosts.

[taste-thewaste]

fic pride tag

thank you so much for the tags my lovely friends <3 @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie

Rules: Post your favourite line or passage from as many of your published works as you’d like. Let yourself feel proud of your creations! Tag as many people as you post snippets, so your fellow fic friends can be proud, too.

this is going to be interesting because I have to be nice to myself and proud of my work lol let's goooo (all of these are firstprince because i'm vanilla)

1. Gorgeous. Another short little dude in my T Swift series, inspired by the song. This is the first line, and I've always loved it:

They are in a small bar in Paris, drunk on French 75s and the nearness of each other, staring at the Eiffel Tower when Alex starts making fun of him.

2. i wanna touch your body (so fucking electric). my beloved first smut fic!! so proud of how this one turned out actually. here's my favorite bit of the boys sexting each other

Later that night, when Henry is safely sequestered in his rooms and able to do what he likes, he opens his text thread with Alex and sends a barb of his own.  Thinking about the way your dick looks when it’s curved against your belly. You’re so fucking pretty.  Alex’s phone goes off, and he looks away from the skillet that he’s cooking chicken in to check. He reads Henry’s text and his cheeks flame, a bolt of lightning heads straight to his groin, and his dick stirs.  Pretty? Yes. You have a pretty cock, Alex. Sue me.   Alex moans, and he can’t think of what to say because his mind is flushed with want and need. Luckily, Henry seems to know this and follows up.  I want your pretty cock in my pretty mouth so I can hear you beg.  Alex’s dick is painfully hard, and he’s grateful for just a moment, in his haze of arousal, that he’d swapped his characteristically tight jeans for sweatpants when he’d gotten home. He manages to tap out a response before he starts taking care of himself. I’d be begging so loud that we’d rattle the ghosts of all those dead gay kings in that castle. I’d peel the wallpaper with my screams for you, baby.   Alex finishes coming as soon as the smoke alarm in the kitchen goes off. He’s burned the chicken.

3. i could've danced all night. henry tutu fic!! this fic is so filthy, and i love this bit

“You…your dick is, uh, ahhhh, cock, and…” is all Alex manages to spit out before throwing his head back and abandoning all pretense of sexy talk. He can’t focus on anything but the feeling of Henry’s giant hands on him ( seriously , is anything about this man tiny?) and how close he is to coming.  “My ‘dick is cock’, eh? That’s eloquent. Pure poetry, love,” Henry says with a low, throaty laugh, feeling himself going even harder than he already had been. Alex cock drunk is his favorite thing; the idea that he can fuck Alex stupid does something to him. He strokes even faster, shutting Alex up before he can even attempt some kind of comeback.

4. only bought this dress so you could take it off. alex in a little black dress and red bottoms! utter filth. here's my favorite part.

Alex knows what’s coming soon, who’s coming soon, and the thought brings a grin to his face. “Look at you, so out of your mind that you’re reduced to fucking a carpet because you just can’t get enough. It hurts, doesn’t it, you little slut? It hurts but it feels good, it feels so good , doesn’t it?” He punctuates each ‘good’ with a dig of the heels, and then Henry screams, fucking screams like his spirit is being wrenched from his body.  He waits until Henry’s finished—he can tell by the way he is just lying there, spent, his body heaving and out of breath—and then he steps off. The vague part of Alex that is still himself underneath the fog of arousal that’s clouded his head wants to pull Henry up, clean him off, make sure he’s okay. That part, however, is locked in the recesses of his brain, and he wants to keep going because it’s his turn now, and by the look Henry gives him when he sits up, he knows that, too.  “Come here.” Alex snaps his fingers again, and Henry starts to rise to his feet. “Did I say to stand up? I said to come here. ” Henry stops, looks up at Alex like he is confused, but he isn’t, and Alex knows it. He drops to his knees and crawls forward, his knees pushing through the mess he’s made without even thinking, moves forward until he is right in front of Alex.

5. turn the desert to glass (you would be the one). henry's tummy fic, the fic I am most proud of. i worked so hard on it!! here's two of my favorite parts bc i can't pick just one

After a few moments, Alex rests one hand on the lower part of Henry’s belly, where he’s the softest, and leans over to grab another spoonful of mousse. “You look like the most pampered, spoiled, overfed little prince right now,” he says in a low voice as the bite of rich dessert disappears down Henry’s pretty throat.

and

A tiny sound squeaks past Henry’s lips, a sound he can’t control but knows will drive Alex mad, a sound that means more . Alex slips a finger inside of him, and another, opens him up like he is a book he’s been dying to read, and Henry bares down shamelessly, his own hand twisted in the sheets at his side. 

6. Your Lipstick, His Collar. my multi chap emo early 2000s college au being co-written with my bestie! this fic is so. much. fun. and here's a bit I love from one of my chapters:

“Here, you dropped this.” Alex’s iPod, suddenly pinker than anything in the world had a real right to be, is being handed to him. Alex looks up finally and his stomach does a flip as Henry’s eyes, as blue as any ocean he’s ever seen, lock with his. Now that he’s up close, he can see the remnants of yesterday’s eyeliner still smudged around Henry’s eyes, and he wants to know why and how and when and where he’s worn it. He wants to sit next to him and watch him put it on. He wants to watch Henry squeeze into those jeans that are really too tight to be allowed, really too tight to be anything more than a major tease, and he wants to…oh, he has to stop thinking right fucking now because things are going to get even more awkward if he doesn’t. “Thanks,” Alex says quietly, trying to not think about the feeling of Henry’s fingers against his as he takes the iPod. They’re soft and gentle, and all he can imagine is the delicate way they must hold an eyeliner pencil. “I like that song,” Henry says, and Alex can’t handle the way the words come out of his mouth, the way they fall from his lips in the lightest, most dignified accent, like the gentle flapping of a bird’s wing. “What?” Alex blurts stupidly, the word falling from his lips with a thud and rolling down the sidewalk like a giant turd. Christ, he’s an idiot.

7. take me out, and take me home. my newest, my lil baby!

Alex tells him the things he’s never told anyone, and Henry places a hand on his knee while he talks. He is quiet and still and holds Alex’s words with so much reverence and care. In return, Henry tells him the things he’s most afraid of, the things that have hurt him the most. He stares Alex in the eyes and gives him pieces of himself that he has never given to anyone. 

tagging: @england-would-fall @henrysfox @agostobuwan @stratocumulusperlucidus @priincebutt

@piratefalls @doublecheekedkinard those are my 7 but please feel free to use this open tag and tag me if you want to do it!!