#writingandrants

[papal-babygirl]

Day 4- Four Calling Birds

damn, christmas song, why you got so many bird words

Four in the morning. The birds shouldn’t even be up this early, but here they were, chirping away and waking Dean up.

“Fuck.” He grunted, rolling over and rubbing his eyes against the small strip of dusky grey light that streamed in through the windows. How the fuck were there birds this early? He swung out of bed and stumbled over to the window, the chirping getting quieter, and he swung back to see Seth’s phone lit up with an alarm. He had forgotten to turn it off for their vacation, though as Dean considered how their evening went with a cursory hand over the curve of his neck, it made sense that Seth might have forgotten a minor detail or two. He heard a grunt from the bed as Seth rolled over and slapped idly at his phone until it stopped chirping with a swear of his own, slumping into the pillow with a deep groan.

“Goddamn it.” Came the eloquent muffled words of a too tired man who had made too many mistakes and was regretting them. Then, the frantic patters of a hand over an empty pillow as Seth realized his Dean was not in the bed, and that that was not a particularly good start to this vacation if he’d managed to scare him off somehow already. And finally, the wise decision to turn over and just look to see what had happened, and the slow curling smile of realization as he sleepily met Dean’s eyes.

“Morning.” Dean said quietly, coming back over to the bed, back to Seth’s lazily outstretched arm, his grabby hand tangling with Dean’s own as he laid back down.

“Is it even morning? Are we even here right now?” Seth rubbed a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “When did we sleep?”

Dean huffed out a laugh at that question, figuring that they had the equivalent of a catnap considering how late the night’s activities kept them up. “I don’t know, but I don’t exactly feel like I slept.”

“Jesus. I’m sorry, babe,” Seth slid up to press apologetic kisses over marks that had been made with a considerable amount more passion than they were being re-mapped with. “This is a terrible start to our anniversary, isn’t it?” Dean laced his arm around Seth’s shoulders, pulling him closer and rubbing his arm as he kissed up and down the dark hickeys.

“You really think a wild night to kick off our week off is a bad way to start things?” He chuckled softly, watching the worry slowly drain from Seth’s body, watching as his eyes lightened up, and the tension melted from his shoulders. That came with the territory of loving Seth, stopping all the frantic, worried thoughts, stopping them right where they stood and not letting them have another inch of his brain, another second of his time. “Nah, man, that was incredible. And besides, we have the luxury of naps for a week.”

“Oh my god, you’re right. And not even plane naps,” Seth’s face lit up, eyes twinkling in the low light of the hotel room. “Fuck, it has been so long since I have had a nap laying down.” Seth melted into Dean’s chest, placing his ear over Dean’s heart and sighing contentedly. “This is gonna be good for us, you know?”

Dean hummed a bit, still thumbing his shoulder lightly. He didn’t know how Seth could be so damned chatty at four in the morning, but hey. He liked listening to Seth talk. “Yeah. We needed this.”

Seth stretched up a bit, craning his neck to lazily connect his lips with Dean’s as his fingers traced lightly over more marks from last night. Even the light brush of fingers made the bruises twinge, and Dean felt fire shoot down his spine. He broke off with a laugh, breathless and tangling his fingers into Seth’s hair.

“You better slow down there, baby, gonna get me worked up again.” It was Seth’s turn to laugh, a knowing little snicker as he pressed a kiss to the center of Dean’s chest.

“It’s been five years, Dean. You think I don’t know exactly what I’m doing?” A wicked smirk and a wandering hand was all it took to convince Dean fully that being awoken this early was not a total mistake.

[rat-with-coffee]

fumking oc arts

here’s adalin and nathin :P if you ask about them ill love you forever their sideblog is @writingandranting

I like how this came out for the most part and I’m taking feedback and suggestions! :)

art tags: @raedas @pencilwritesshiz47 @fire-sapphics  @lucifers-golden-bitch-apparently

[papal-babygirl]

Day 1- A Partridge in a Pear Tree

So henlo I’m doing a 12 days of Christmas challenge because I realized I’d never written Christmas fic in my whole life. And that’s a goddamned Greek Tragedy. So I’m doing 12 days of prompts, based off the 12 days of Christmas song (however loosely I can write for birds for four days) with a mix of ships and fandoms! Keep checking in every day to see what’s new!

--

Gavin knew he couldn’t cook. He knew that well. But it was his first Christmas with Ryan, and by god he was going to make it good. So he spent a week buying food in secret, trying to come up with excuses for Ryan to not drive him to the store, and two days before Christmas, he set to cooking.

It was, all told, an unmitigated disaster of a cooking spree. Gavin didn’t give the turkey enough time to thaw, and he ended up with half of everything burnt, and the other half undercooked. It was too much for one person to handle on their own, and he had no time to fix it all. There were always the cookies he’d planned to make tomorrow, but considering the mess he’d made (and how little of it he’d cleaned before dropping into bed exhausted) he wasn’t hopeful.

The cookies went somewhat better, though the sugar cookies were stained with cranberry sauce and looked a bit like they’d been shot. Gavin found the day slipping away from him slowly, hours falling through his fingers like the sugar he was dusting his lopsided linzers with. And once every last second had fallen away, the sun hiding below the horizon, Gavin’s doorbell rang.

Oh. Oh no, Ryan was here, and nothing was ready and yet there were Gavin’s feet, carrying him to the door and seeing his wonderful perfect Ryan, in a sweater that was really too hot for the Texas weather, brandishing a bottle of champagne and a bottle of sparkling juice.

“You. You’re here.” The words tumbled out of Gavin’s mouth before he could stop them, and Ryan cocked his head, slipping into the house and shutting the door behind him.

“Of course, dear, for dinner? Is everything ok?” Gavin thought back to the undercooked food warming in the oven, hoping that Ryan wouldn’t die from undercooked food, and praying that they could dig around the blackened edges of the sweet potato casserole Ryan’s mother had graciously sent him so that he could have a taste of home.

“Not… really?” Gavin admitted, shoulders dropping as he backed up into the mess of his kitchen, and the unmade table. He hadn’t even put music on. It was a sorry state of affairs, and Gavin rubbed his neck. “It’s all gone ruddy pear-shaped and not a single thing I made came out good, so I hope you like dry turkey and burnt potatoes.” Gavin grumbled, watching dejectedly as Ryan set the bottles down and cupped his cheeks.

“Hey, hon. I came over to spend Christmas Eve with you, ok? Not all this food, ruined or not. And hey, next year, we can do this together. It’s more fun when I can try to seduce you while I’m making gravy.” Ryan soothed gently, smoothing Gavin’s mussed hair over to the side.

Gavin laughed a bit at the image, Ryan trying to flirt with him in the kitchen, and he felt his cheeks go a bit pink. “You wanna tank this bottle of bubbly and eat cookies till we pass out?” Gavin raised an eyebrow, and Ryan smirked.

“Sounds good to me, Gav.”

[papal-babygirl]

Day 3- Three French Hens

woah hey yall its wrestling ship time. this is the first time i’ve uploaded any of that so like, be gentle, i guess

“A six-hour layover?” Seth squinted at his phone in disbelief, his itinerary glaring back at him. Six hours, stuck in the Paris airport with all of his bags, nothing to do but hole up and have a terrible airport nap, courtesy of fluorescent lights and hoodies stuffed around his neck to act as a terrible pillow.

“That’s definitely not that bad, babe.” Finn’s head dangled off their shared bed as he popped gummy bears into his mouth, resisting the urge to offer one up to his dour looking boyfriend. Haribo, unfortunately, does not heal all wounds.

“Ok, yeah, I’ve definitely dealt with worse, but I’m gonna be stuck in Paris, with you and no way to enjoy it! During the damn Christmas season!” Seth dropped his phone in his lap and stuck his hands up indignantly, scowling a bit. Finn laid the bag of gummy bears on his chest and reached up to cup Seth’s cheek.

“There will be other Christmas seasons. And other trips to Paris. And perhaps even other Christmas trips to Paris.” He soothed his thumb over Seth’s cheek, watching patiently and lovingly as Seth leaned into the touch.

“I know how time works, I just.. Ugh, I don’t wanna be all old and shitty when we get to go, I wanna be there now.” It was petulant, whiny, and all together too endearing for the overgrown child Seth was acting. Finn sometimes had no idea how he stood this man, but here he was, sitting up and cradling his face for a soft kiss.

“Screw the flight. Where are we headed that we can’t drive?” There was a mischievous spark in Finn’s eyes, one that Seth so frequently saw, even when it’s simply that he’d been pounced on in the morning by a cuddly and handsy Finn. “I’m serious, Seth. As long as we show up to everything on time, who cares how we got there? And we can brag about our Parisian date to all the others who were in airports.” Finn poked Seth’s chest, appealing to his somewhat innate need to always be one step ahead of everyone else. He’d get a soft date in Paris, and everyone else would get seventeen dollar airport sandwich wraps. That sounded very good.

“Screwing the flight right now.” Seth’s eyes flashed with that same mischief, and Finn grinned big, snagging a gummy bear from the bag that now rested on his thighs. A few taps of his phone, and the flight was summarily canceled, and all the reservations for a car and a date were arranged. It was going to be perfect. Even more perfect considering what Seth had been carrying around in his many suitcases for three whole months, waiting for the right moment. -- The night was truly beautiful. The glimmering City of Lights didn’t fail to deliver said lights, and the cafe they’d tucked themselves into had a halo of fairy lights strung on the heated patio outside.

Seth wasn’t nervous. He’d definitely faced scarier things that locking in the whole ‘love of your life, till death do you part’ stuff. He wasn’t nervous, not at all, because the love of his life was picking at a fucking quiche. Quiche wasn’t scary, Rollins, just fucking get a hold of yourself.

His hands were shaking like they never had when he slipped out of his chair and down to one knee, not from adrenaline, not from the coursing thrum of victory and the roar of eighty fucking thousand people. There was nothing like this, like seeing the stars and the glow of the lights reflected in Finn’s wide eyes as he processed the sight in front of him. A ring. A ring set with glittering little stones, subtle and yet still gorgeous.

“Seth, is what I think happening happening?” Finn breathed, hands clutching delicately at his napkin. “If what you think is happening is asking the best fucking thing to ever happen to me to marry me then yes. What you think is happening is happening.” Seth grinned so bright it dimmed all the others in comparison, trying to ignore how his heart was thudding in his chest, but his breathing had stopped. It was like the world was holding its breath with him, waiting for Finn’s answer.

“Seth, is this why you didn’t wanna take the flight?” Finn breathed softly, and it was all Seth could do to nod, his mouth so dry it hurt. “You sap. You absolute sap. Yes, Seth, of course I’m saying yes.” He slipped down to cradle Seth’s cheeks and bring him into a kiss, feeling himself get choked up as the ring slides perfectly onto his finger.

“I know I’m a few days early, but.. Merry Christmas, Finn.” Seth murmured as he pulled back, a soft smirk on his face, and Finn punched him gently. As gently as he could.

“You’re the worst. I’m filing for divorce.”

[papal-babygirl]

Day 2- Two Turtle Doves

hey y’all im here with day 2 and more nebulously related bird themed prompts!

--

Jeremy had no idea why they’d chosen to get married during the Feast of Candles, but he had to admit the snow drifting softly onto the castle was fairly romantic. He hated being cold though, and no amount of kisses from Ryan to his nipped nose and fingers. His guard rounds had become unbearable, even though Ryan insisted as the beloved of the king, he had no obligation to lead the guard anymore. It kept Jeremy from going insane before the wedding.

The Feast of Candles was 12 day feast, and their wedding was halfway through, just as the festivities got into swing, but not enough that no one would could be expected to come. Ryan was excitedly directing things from menus to decorations to micromanaging the way the ceremony would go.

Jeremy let it out of his hands, just letting Ryan’s excited words wash over him like a warm blanket as they curled up at the end of the day, Ryan’s lips at his temple. That was the only time he really wanted to listen to it, and so it was the only time he let Ryan talk about in earnest.

It made the days before the wedding almost crawl to a stop, and so Jeremy was surprised when Ryan slipped his way on top of Jeremy whispering ‘today’s the day’ and nipping his lips.

“Today is the day, mm?” Jeremy responded softly, reaching up to pet through Ryan’s hair and musing on how Ryan had forgotten to get his hair cut before the ceremony. It looked handsome, all told, especially if he tied a bit of it back.

“I am positively anxious to be your husband. I’ve made sure the ceremony doesn’t go too long.” Ryan soothed, and slipped off of Jeremy to get dressed. Jeremy, himself, laid back gently and sunk into the pillows with a gentle sigh. There’s a point where Ryan came over and dropped a single white rose onto Jeremy’s chest, a smirk playing over his lips.

“Come on, dear, don’t wanna be late to your own wedding.” Ryan nudged him with a gentle hand, and Jeremy just about rolled over onto the rose before getting out of bed, his own hair a mess. “Your clothes are laid out there for you. I’ll let you get dressed in peace.” Ryan winked and left, taking a small book from the bedside with him.

After Jeremy got dressed and was making his way down to where he would be led to his husband, he took time to take stock of the boughs of ribbons, gold and white, and the roses tipped in gold that were lining the halls in vases. It truly was beautiful, he had to admit Ryan’s work had not been in vain.

The ceremony was admittedly terribly boring, but when Jeremy had the love of his life to stare it, it made it go a bit quicker. As soon as he was allowed to kiss Ryan, he did, clutching Ryan close and melting against him. But within a moment, Ryan pulls back and untucks the small book from his jacket, flipping through a couple pages until he found the right one. He murmured soft words in a language Jeremy didn’t understand, confusing him until a swarm of softly glowing white birds materialized out of thin air, fluttering up into the sky in a glittering, shimmering display of magic, and disguising a second kiss.

“This was beautiful, my dearest.” Jeremy said softly as the last of the ethereal doves fluttered away, and he took Ryan’s hand to the applause of the whole crowd. He was a king now, a guard this morning, and he would be buried in the hall of kings next to his husband. It was a glorious Feast of Candles indeed.

[papal-babygirl]

Day 5- Five Golden Rings

hey yall. its day five, my respite from bird prompts

Dean wasn’t… jealous. He knew it was ridiculous to be jealous of everyone around him with their rings and their weddings, because he was dating two people.

But… come the fuck on. Why did he have to get dragged to endless bachelor parties and engagement parties just because Seth and Finn have so many damn friends. He didn’t even own enough nice clothes to go to all of them with something fresh. It was turning into a problem, but not one he was going to sit through another session at the Men’s Wearhouse where he had suits thrust on him left and right.

At least they didn’t make him wear ties.

After the fifth fucking party, he was ready to snap. He doesn’t want to sit there for the rest of his life congratulating people on how happy he was for them. Because, ok, he wasn’t going to be a dick, but it mostly stung to congratulate people on something he’d never have. So as was reasonable, he never mentioned a single bit of this to Seth or Finn. Just sat there and didn’t talk as he went to weddings and parties and watched as his boyfriends had a good time.

It was the seventh event when they pulled him aside and said something.

“Dean, you look like a cat that got dunked in a river,” Seth cocked his eyebrow a bit as Dean glared off to the side of them both at the champagne glasses neatly lined up at a table. “What’s going on?” He didn’t say anything, instead folding his arms like a petulant child. Finn cocked his head gently, nibbling on his bottom lip. Dean wished they weren’t in public with a bunch of bullshit happy people so he could just kiss Finn and ignore that he was being called out.

“Just tired.” He lied through his teeth, trying to break off the wall and go grab two of those champagne flutes to down them in a second.

“No, Dean. You’re not tired,” Finn interjected, shutting Dean up. “Tired Dean is cranky, and you’re pissed.”

“Ok, I’m tired and pissed,” Dean frowned deeper, gritting his teeth against the onslaught of questions. “I just hate these things, ok? They suck.” He gestured to the white decorations encrusting the hall of the reception.

“I know wearing suits isn’t your thing, but c’mon,” Seth punched his arm lightly, grinning a bit and gesturing to the party. “Drink a little, and have some fun.” Seth started to pull Dean to the drinks, but Finn threw a hand out to stop them.

“Something else is up.” Finn fixed him with a look. Fuck, why do you have to be so perceptive, Finn?

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed a bit, shaking his head. “Ok, I fuckin’ hate these because I know it’s not something I’ll ever have but that’s stupid of me to bitch about because I’m the greedy bastard with two fuckin’ boyfriends.” He broke away from them, leaving them stunned as he stalked off to grab as many champagne flutes as he could physically hold.

“I have an idea.” Finn said, taking Seth’s hand and dragging him over to where Dean was knocking back champagne like no man was ever meant to. He dragged two chairs over to where Dean was sullenly drowning himself in alcohol and sat Seth down in one of them, taking the other for himself.

“The fuck is this, an intervention?” Dean grumbled as he set the champagne flutes down.

“If you hadn’t stormed off like a wee kid havin’ a tantrum, I might have been able to make you feel a little better about this,” Finn fixed Dean with a look that pinned him to his seat, as much as he wanted to get up and run away. “I know it isn’t the same as all… this,” Finn gestured to the reception hall and leaned forward on his knees. “But considerin’ I am in possession of a real prehistoric Celtic spirit, I think we’d be more than justified in having a traditional Celtic wedding. Where having more than one husband is fine.”

“What.. are you saying?” Dean didn’t budge, but he begrudgingly flickered his eyes over to Finn.

“I’m saying, love, that if you wanted all this marriage stuff, we could have that. Whenever you wanted, with as little or much fanfare as you wanted.” Finn reached out to take Dean’s hand, and he didn’t so much as hold hands as relent to the contact.

“I don’t want all this shit. I hate people.”

Seth laughed and rolled his eyes, leaning forward slightly. “Of course you do, you edgy shit.”

“Oh, shut up,” Dean snapped playfully, a small smile crawling onto his face. “Says the guy who makes us listen to screamo on every goddamned road trip.”

“That is because I drive, and that gives me music privileges,” Seth jabbed his finger at Dean with a playful smirk, feeling the tense air break around them as Dean’s eyes narrowed. “So if you wanna get behind the wheel sometimes, we can listen to… whatever it is you put in your ears.”

“I’m the wingman, Seth, we can’t disturb that sacred balance!” Dean’s hands shot into the air indignantly, yanking his hand away from Finn. He grabbed Dean’s hands from the air and squeezed them gently, looking over the pair of them.

“We can fight about this on the way home. But I’d like to keep a conversation about our somewhat holy matrimony civil.” Finn took Dean’s hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the ring finger, a silent promise.

“You’ve got a point…” Dean breathed softly, watching as Finn flickered his eyes up to Dean’s. “Maybe we could act like grown men like, once.”

“That would be nice. I think they only let grown ups marry.” Seth chimed in with a smile, taking a hand of each of his boys. Dean was absolutely flooded with love, realizing just how safe the idea of being tied to those two forever felt. Yeah, he was jealous. Was being the operative word, because now he got to have twice the normal amount of spouses. And that sounded pretty good to him.

[papal-babygirl]

#3 from the link thread starters w freewood 👀

whoops ok this is really late but.. i love freewood and also exhibition so. time to write this.

#3.“I want you. Right up against the window.”

“Listen, I’m not saying anything about our sex life. That’s for us and us alone.” Ryan was in rare form today, showing it off with a smirk across the Off Topic table.“Dude! You have been talking about sex for twenty minutes!” Michael squeaked, and Ryan pointed, staring him down.

“Yes, but I never said what me and my boyfriend do, just what I’ve done. So there.” He sniffed proudly, and folded his arms. He felt his phone buzz as Michael used the sex conversation to transition, however terribly, into a mattress ad.

i hear youre talking about us on the podcast??

Au contraire, dearest, I took special care to not mention what we do in bed.

god im breaking up with you i swear

Sure you are, honey.

“Ooh, Ryan’s textin’!” Jeremy blurted, and Ryan let his phone drop to the table with a clatter.

just dont give away our juicy details yeah?

But I do so love showing you off. Maybe I will, when we get home.

what are you on about rye

I want you. Right up against the window.

aw hell love weve never done anythin like that 

Ryan couldn’t contain his smirk, even as the conversation moved on to admittedly more interesting, but less sexy things.

First time for everything, right?

-- 

They collapsed into each other as they got home, hands and lips tangled, nearly ripping at each other’s clothes to get them off. Gavin, as he took great pains to mention, had thought about Ryan’s texts all day, and he wanted so badly to skitter off and get off, but he’d held off to make this better.

“Well, that’s good, because I intend to make you come so hard you can’t stand on your own.” Ryan purred lowly, and just that alone made Gavin a little weak in the knees. “Go on and get the supplies, babe.” Ryan said sweetly, giving Gavin an encouraging pat on the ass as he threw back the curtains on his chosen window. They lived on a quiet street, just a turn away from a cul-de-sac, but the thrill of being seen still raced through both of their veins. 

Gavin came back with said supplies, and quickly found himself pressed up against said window, hands tugging at his pants and slipping them down. They barely had time for everything to come off, and Ryan didn’t see why they had to go through the whole process of undressing. 

So they didn’t, Ryan turning Gavin around with his pants and boxers tugged down slightly, shirt pulled up. It was a debaucherous sight, and one that Ryan had only imagined before this. He opened Gavin up methodically, watching for any sign of him coming too close to... well, coming, and slowing down. But he didn’t waste a second, knowing full well that Gavin didn’t want to be fingered against the window. A car breezed past, and Ryan smirked when he felt Gavin flicker around him and whimper a little, only helped as he tucked into Gavin’s neck and littered kisses there. 

“You sound so damn good, dear..” Ryan purred sweetly, and Gavin’s forehead hit the glass.

“You in me would sound a lot ruddy better, Rye.” Gavin gasped, and Ryan let out a genuine laugh, kissing Gavin’s cheek and pulling his fingers out.

“That’s a good point.” He lined himself up, and with a swift movement, pulled Gavin back onto him. “I’d imagine it feels much better too.” He said with a little kiss behind Gavin’s ear as he almost doubled over with a moan, straightening up and tossing his head back.

“Bloody heck, Ryan..” Gavin gasped out as one of Ryan’s hands trailed up his chest, exploring and seeking out familiar dips and curves, tracing along the edges of the hair on his chest and making him quiver.

“Watch that language, Gav, come on now.” Ryan chided jokingly, starting to move his hips slowly, making Gavin’s head hit the glass again.

“Sod off.” Gavin grunts, pushing himself back into Ryan. “Now please, shag me proper.” 

“As you wish, dearest.” Ryan said, voice thick with honey sweetness. It was only a second before he was pulling back and setting a sharp rhythm with his hips. Gavin whined a little, voice going low as he’s pressed into the window, hot cock flush with cool glass.

“Oh, hell, Ryan, oh bloody--” Gavin was cut short by Ryan wrapping his hand around Gavin, and stroking in time to the thrusts of his hips. His words turned into quiet, huffy moans, and Ryan felt a soft smile pull at his lips as he fucked Gavin into absolute wordlessness.

Gavin was coming against the window in no time, legs giving out as he fluttered around Ryan, drawing Ryan’s orgasm out as he struggled to support Gavin as he quickly became dead weight.

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you, let’s get you out from in front of this window, ok?” Ryan said softly, supporting Gavin and getting him back to the bedroom, stripping him slowly and letting him cool down as Ryan cleaned him off with a cloth.

“Ryebread?” Gavin slurred sleepily.

“Yes, dear.”

“Les’ do that again, yeah? Wanna take you, though..” Gavin batted his hand against Ryan’s face, lips curling into a smile.

“Sounds like a plan.”

[papal-babygirl]

@myanweek sci fi au! or rather. steampunk. idk. took some liberties, and this absolutely certainly does not bear a resemblance to a certain finishing school series where there’s a school for inventors and evil masterminds.

Also, is this two days late because I was playing dream daddy? yes. yes it is.

art by @holographdick fic by me!

“-- as I have stressed in this course several times, however discrete you wish to keep your poisons- and that is a very fruitful endeavor indeed, make no mistake- they must be labeled in a way that you must be sure of what they are. You mix up your arsenic and your nightshade, and everyone’s evening is ruined like *that.*” Ryan’s voice carried throughout the halls of the school, as he had a penchant for leaving his doors open during class. Michael wandered the hall during his one free period, a steaming cup of tea in his hand, and rather coincedentally, ended up in front of Ryan’s door.

He absolutely should have been grading his student’s mid-semester projects, but if he had to see another garter knife as long as he lived, he wasn’t sure he’d make it to tenure. It was impractical! How was one ever meant to access it?!

He needed to start explicitly warning against that in his lectures.That was the only way to stop the tyranny of these impractical weapons. Michael sighed and took a sip of his tea, quietly slipping into Ryan’s classroom. If the man was going to leave his door open, Michael would come and visit. He didn’t sit in the back row, knowing that was where the seats that were the most noisy were often kept, and he didn’t wish to bother Ryan. Yet.

Ryan kept on with his lecture, not noticing Michael for a good few minutes until he properly looked up from the display of bottles in front of him. He faltered for a moment before smiling a little, and Michael couldn’t help but notice how nicely the blue of his eyes complimented the dark cobalt of the bottles. As if they were made for each other.

Made for each other, a thought Michael’s had several, no, hundreds of times about his husband, and, perhaps alarmingly, multiple times when he had a row of poisons in front of him. Perhaps it just came with the job. He shrugged off the thought as Ryan beckoned him to the front of the classroom, and Michael could see the ripple go through the students.

They were used to this, though they never knew what to expect. Today, as it would turn out, was a joint lesson on poison and corrosive agents, and what to absolutely never put on a knife, lest it melt. Ryan, who usually found it in him to remain moderately professional with his husband around, instead found himself smiling over at Michael as he talked, and just about swooning when he dumped several knives out of his waistcoat.

Ryan had a thing for dangerous men, what could he say?

The end of the lecture came far too soon for Ryan’s liking, though he sensed his students tired quickly of the open display of affection. They liked it much more, however, when Ryan’s fawning caused him to forget to assign the page report on the use rates and applications of a poison of their choice for next week. Ah, well. Much more useful to see them in practice anyways.

As Michael was tucking away all the various knives and stilettos he had, Ryan came over and stilled his hands, taking one and brushing his thumb over the little ivory band. Michael blushed, turning an even more lurid shade of pink as he brought the ring to his lips and kissed it.

“I still remember the man who I took the femur out of to make you this ring. He was terrible.” Ryan murmured softly, and Michael waved his hand dismissively.

“Hush, hush, buttonbush.” Michael stroked down his cheek, smiling fondly.

“He really was, you know it.”

“He was, I agree, but I’d rather not remember him when we speak of our wedding rings, mm?” Ryan laughed a little, leaning in to place the softest of kisses to Michael’s lips.

“I assume you didn’t come to interrupt my class for a bit of interdisciplinary fun?”

“I believe that is the official classification for our relationship, yes.” Michael said drolly, and Ryan suppressed a sigh. He married the man for a reason. “But, not entirely. I still have time before my next class, and I know you’ve taught all morning. I was just wondering if my favorite teacher would like something to eat with his husband?” Ryan smirked playfully, and Michael could sense something cheeky coming.

“And who would be your favorite teacher, my sweet little wolfsbane?” Ryan’s smirk only grew as Michael sighed and stepped ever so slightly closer, eyes soft, loving.

“Well, only the most learned and respected poison master this side of the Atlantic, my darling larkspur.” Michael punctuated his statement with a kiss, a little more passionate than the gentle peck Ryan had given him.

“I see..” Ryan breathed softly as Michael stepped back, straightening his jacket and smiling a little.

“To food?” Michael offered his arm, and Ryan took it gratefully, feeling for all the world like a boy with his first forays into romance.

“To food.”

They made their way across the campus, finding the little cafe that was just outside the iron wrought gates, decorated with all the most menacing symbols a school for future masterminds should. As they walked, Michael heard an unmistakable grating bark, turning to see a squat little automaton trundling it’s way towards the couple. Michael sighed, however fondly, and squatted down to greet the little creature.

“Gavin must have sent you after me, hm?” Michael said, and all the automaton did was bark. Grand.

“And have you introduced me to your new companion, Michael?” Ryan said with a smile, gesturing to the.. Dog?

“He lacks a name currently. He’s a joint project with me and, the, ah..” Michael snaps a little, trying to remember any details about Gavin that might spark Ryan’s memory. “The British one.”

“Ah. His function?” Michael simply gestured to the automaton, and he cocked his head, copper tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Look at him, Ryan.”

“He is quite precious, I will agree. Can you justify spending university money on him?” Ryan folded his arms as Michael pulled out a small knife, placing it in the dog’s mouth and standing back.

“There! Loyal, adorable, murderous!” The dog dropped the knife to pant again, wagging his little stump of a tail. “He.. the jaw needs some tightening.”

“I see.” Ryan didn’t seem impressed with the dog’s murdering skill, and Michael’s shoulders slumped.

“He’s a pet project. Literally. I can’t justify him, but the face justifies anything I need it to.” Ryan squatted, examining the little corgi automaton. The craftsmanship was exquisite, he had to give it that. Remarkably lifelike… and he knew well that advances in animal automatons often gave way to human ones. And human ones could hold knives. “He’s a.. Domestic Organic..” Michael paused. “I’m still puzzling out the G.”

“So.. it’s.. It’s a DOG.”

“Yes.”

“You find new ways to astound me every day, my dearest honeybush.” Ryan said fondly, watching as Michael patted his pockets down.

“Hold on, hold on, I might have a treat for him somewhere.” He perked up at the word treat, right as Michael produced a sooty handkerchief from a pocket, rolling it in his fingers. He plucked a small lump of coal from it, watching as DOG’s tail started to wag, wiggling his whole lower half.

“Sit? Can you sit?” Michael cooed sweetly, and the automaton plopped down, looking up at Michael proudly. He fed the little lump of coal to the dog, and he plodded off a ways to pick at it in peace. “He’s a very good DOG.” Michael said, wiping his hands off as they continued to their food. “He’ll bring up the rear.”

“Wouldn’t want to eat lunch without him.” Ryan said with a little smile, and Michael rolled his eyes.

“He’s clean burning. Doesn’t smell, and we’ve taught him to not just.. Dump ash everywhere.” Michael sighed with all the faint resolve of a parent, and Ryan got a flutter he’d never felt before. Hm. Odd.

They might have to speak of that. Later. Much later. At supper. Maybe after. Ryan didn’t know what to make of the feelings, and so he tucked them away, rather neatly.

Would Michael even want..? Could they..?

Later, Haywood, later.

Their meal passes with relatively little incident, DOG coming over and nearly crushing Michael’s foot by laying on it. They’re picking at a berry tart when Ryan decides he can’t stand to wait.

“Michael.. Would.. Would you ever want children?” Ryan picked at the seam of the napkin draped across his lap, trying to avoid Michael’s gaze. The gasp Michael let out wasn’t particularly encouraging.

“Ryan, my lovely mayapple, what got that idea in your head?” Michael’s voice is gentle, if a little incredulous.

“I suppose, just.. Something about seeing you care for your little friend there, it.. Put the thought in my mind.” Ryan sighed and turned more pink, if possible. “We can forget I ever said anything, if you’d prefer.”

“And when did I ever say that, mm?” Michael smiled and reached across the table to take Ryan’s hand. “My darling, sweet, Ryan..” He pressed a kiss to the back of Ryan’s hand. “One day, I would be delighted to raise a child with you. After we clear the poison out of the home.”

“Oh, come on. You know I keep it on high shelves. When our child is tall enough to reach them, they’ll be tall enough to use them properly.” Ryan said fondly, and Michael melted a bit, smiling and pressing his cheek to Ryan’s hand.

“That was the right answer.” Ryan could only laugh.

[papal-babygirl]

No Moon At All

so, i went to this 1940′s radio show a literal year ago and they did a tango arrangement of this song here sung by a woman by the stage-last name of Haywood. so that ruled my ass and here we are; post-war freewood.

              Ryan noticed the pilot from the second he entered the packed dance hall shyly, a slim young man in a RAF uniform, so terribly out of place in the heart of Texas. Hell, it was the end of the war, was anything out of place anymore? Certainly not here, with smoke so thick it turned the lights blue, and the singer melting into the shadows with her sequined black dress, a shimmering anomaly of stars.

              The man, kid— Ryan chose to go with man for his own sanity, the war’d taken too many kids— went to the bar and got himself a pint. It was the first time Ryan caught his eye, and he ducked his head, pulling his hat off as a distraction. Ryan hadn’t meant to startle him, but he got a flash of beautiful, wild eyes, and god, Ryan had to have a dance. How, he had no idea. But he didn’t want to leave without trying.

              The war was fought for freedom, wasn’t it? Ryan didn’t get shipped out, shot at almost killed only to come home with the same amount of freedoms he left with. So he was going to ask the pilot to dance, and whether or not he said yes was… an issue to be dealt with in the future. If it came to that, he seemed like he didn’t have too much muscle mass. Ryan could probably take him in a fight, but he wouldn’t have wanted to.

              Ryan kept their eyes meeting through the evening, and each time the pilot got a little less shy, or so Ryan thought. He didn’t dodge away as quickly, though after Ryan accepted a dance from a sweet, shy young lady he didn’t look over for a whole three songs. There was a whole spread of feelings on his face, jealousy and a little bit of fear. Ryan’s heart went out to him, it really did.

              They were entering a new world, though, Ryan had to hope. He bade his time, trying to balance just the right amount of people in the hall. Too many, and there’d be eyes everywhere to notice, too few and they’d be immediately spotted. It was a delicate game, it always was, but Ryan knew how to play it.

              “Can we get the house lights turned down for this next song?” The singer purred into the microphone, smirking a bit when the lights dimmed. She launched into a little introduction of the song, and Ryan seized his chance to ask the pilot to dance. The speed with which he moved across the hall was impressive, dodging waiters and patrons alike till he found himself in front of the pilot.

              “So you decided to come over and make yourself known?” The pilot said, daring to smirk up at Ryan. His accent was so terribly charming, and Ryan found himself a little too warm in his own uniform for the first time all night.

              “You’ve been looking at me all evening.” Ryan explained simply, “I had to come over and say something, and figured now was the chance.”

              “The chance to..?”

              “Ask for a dance.” Ryan clasped his hands behind his back, hoping the display of respect would protect him for the time being and allow him to stop his damn hands from being so clammy. The pilot gasped slightly at the proposition smoothing down his own trousers nervously.

              “Do… you believe that’s wise?” His eyes flitted about to the dance floor, filled with couples tangoing and dipping.

              “It’s only unwise if you don’t know how to tango.” Ryan shrugged a shoulder, offering a hand, “And besides, no moon at all tonight.” He quipped, making the Brit laugh and flush lightly. This was going better than he had ever hoped it could have gone. Ryan helped the man stand, drawing him close. “I can lead if you’d like.”

              “I’ll be just fine taking the lead, thank you.” Ryan nodded, deferring lead to his new partner as they made their way to the dancefloor.

              As it turned out, he was just fine at leading, and it certainly wasn’t Ryan’s first time letting someone else take the lead. They started by saying little, the meeting of their eyes enough till then and enough now, now that Ryan could really appreciate the subtleties of the eyes that first captivated him, even if the pilot still seemed shy. Ryan thought— hoped, really— that a little conversation would warm him up.

              “How’s a guy from the RAF find his way over to the middle of Texas, mm?” Ryan purred, voice just above the singer’s silky tones.

              “Brought over here to teach you ruddy Americans how to fly and then figured I’d stick around. I could ask the same of you. How does a good looking chap like you get over here in the middle of nothing?” Ryan laughed, letting himself be spun before pressing close to his dance partner.

              “Similar story. No room for me back home in Georgia, no home for me back in Georgia, all things considered.” He looked between the two of them with a sad smile on his face, and his partner looked down briefly before turning his shocking, clear eyes back on him.

              “Ah, so we’re both running then.”

              “’Fraid so.” Ryan scrunched up his nose a little, and the singer stepped back from her microphone. Ryan had a keen fear that his time was coming quickly to a close, and though he might have one last chance for something daring. As people around them started to wrap up their dances, Ryan dipped down for a kiss, brief and light, but it sent thrills to his toes, especially when his partner gripped his lapels and kissed him back. The lights came up just as they pulled apart, Ryan looking down and taking a step back, the air between them charged.

              “What’s your name?”

              “Ah, that’s not important. And besides, sounds like I might be seeing more of you around.” Ryan said with a little salute, lips quirked into a smile as he slipped back into the crowd, leaving the pilot in the throng of people.

              He went to retrieve his hat and leave, not seeing the pilot run after him, questioning people as to where he went, and getting responses as if the man were a ghost. Eventually, the pilot gave up, grabbing his own things and leaving, finding himself standing in the middle of the street, to no one in particular, “My name’s Gavin, if you please.”

[papal-babygirl]

If you're still taking NSFW prompts, what about 29 and Jeremwood?

finger guns hope you like nb!jeremy cause i sure do

time for those fun zesty multiple orgasms

“There you go, baby, calm down for a second, and then we’re gonna go again.” Ryan purrs headily, watching Jeremy breathe heavily as they calm down from the last orgasm. He strokes a hand through their shock of silvery hair, smiling softly. “How many is that? Three?” They nod, panting hard and grasping at the sage sheets.

“Not my record.” Jeremy says, a smirk crossing their face. Ryan gets a similar look in his eye, looking over his partner.

“Then what is your record?” Their head tips back, mouth moving silently. Ryan uses the brief period to try and talk down his dick, to little avail.

“Five? I think it was five.” Ryan grins wildly, and there’s a mixture of fear and arousal in Jeremy’s eyes.

“Ryan no. We can’t. My dick will fall off and I paid a lot of fuckin’ money to get that fucker to grow.” Ryan laughs, running his hands along their thighs, up to the scars, up to their face, taking stock of Jeremy’s whole body.

“Dear, listen. I’ve got tricks and toys I haven’t even pulled out yet. You might not be able to come for a week, but that’s a week I’m willing to give up to help you break that record.” Jeremy sits up a little, shaking as they do.

“Toys?” Ryan’s chuckle is deep, and hits them right in the gut.

“Oh, yeah, baby. We’ve just gotten started, relatively speaking.”

[papal-babygirl]

11 jeremichael 👀 -- holo

hey whats up this is voyeurism jo bros time to jack it at the gym

“No fucking way, Jeremy.” Michael grunts against Jeremy’s lips as Jeremy pins him to the lockers, rattling his head against the metal. Jeremy’s hand drags down to Michael’s quickly growing bulge with a wicked smirk.

“Dude, c’mon, no one’s here.” Michael whines a little, Jeremy’s lips drifting down Michael’s neck. “Dude, I wanna watch..” Jeremy pulls back, eyes bright and mischievous.

“You wanna watch me get off?” Michael says, lips red and curling with a mischief to match Jeremy’s. “You into that, huh?”

“For you, dude, I’m into anything.” Jeremy steps back further, patting the bench and grinning. “C’moooon.” Jeremy whines a little and straddles the bench, Michael pushing off the lockers with a soft noise. “Michael, you’ll love it.”

“You also said that about the fucking leg lock you put me in, you piece of shit.” Michael deadpans, settling on the bench with a cautious look around the room. “You sure there’s no cameras in here?”

“You loved tapping out to me for the first time.” Jeremy grins, still relishing in the feel of Michael’s hand fervently slapping at his knees. “And I’m pretty sure that’s illegal, but what are they gonna do if they have one? Admit they saw you?” Jeremy scoots a little closer. “I think that makes it better, but that’s just me.”

“God, fuck off. Both about the tapout and about the camera.” Michael pushes him back with a snort. 

Jeremy shrugs. “Just me then. Which is probably for the best.” Michael spreads his thighs, and Jeremy looks over him hungrily.

“God, I can’t believe I’m doing this..” Michael rolls his eyes, palming at himself and sighing softly. Jeremy leans back, feeling himself get a little harder as Michael slowly lost himself in the feeling.

“Michael, c’mon, I wanna see you.” Jeremy prompts gently, and Michael grunts, shoving down his shorts, letting them hang on one foot. His lips hang open the more he palms himself, still pink and slick from their kissing.

Workouts ended like this more often then they really should, hot, fast orgasms that were rarely talked about. It’s how they function, they get everything they need from each other, whether that’s friendship, touch or, well, this.

Michael gasps as he dives under the tight athletic boxer briefs, Jeremy’s eyes widening a little at how hard he is. “Michael, dude, how long have you been hard?” They’d only gotten done a few minutes ago, ten at most, but Michael had a desperation in him Jeremy rarely saw.

“Not long.” Michael mumbles as his thumb catches on his head, making him and Jeremy throb. “Jesus, fuck, feels like I have been for hours, though.” Michael braces his free hand on the bench, hips jerking up a little.

“You fuckin’ look it..” Jeremy murmurs, transfixed. He can’t even move to touch himself, just watching Michael, ruddy cheeks and all.

“God, I’m so fuckin’ close.” He breathes, twisting his hand wildly and thrusting gently. He’s flushed from ear to ear, brow knit and lips hanging open still. It’s a fucking image Jeremy’s never gonna forget. It’s no time at all before Michael comes with a soft groan, cum dribbling down his hand a little as he strokes himself through the aftershocks.

“Holy shit.” Jeremy breathes, Michael still finding his voice. “You looked really good.” Michael nods silently, panting, and Jeremy takes that as a cue to go get him a towel as quickly as he can. Jeremy helps Michael clean himself up, and Michael falls into Jeremy with a heady sigh.

“Next time.. next time you have to touch yourself too.”

[papal-babygirl]

jeremichael and tough?

welcome to an au where these boys just fight and also sometime jerk off together. jo bros

“I am never sparring with you again... way too fuckin’ tough for me.” Michael pants, unwrapping his hands as Jeremy relishes in his victory.

“You know you enjoy tapping out to me, can’t resist my raw power and you just have to give in.” Jeremy grins, and Michael chucks the wrap at him with a snort.

“Dude, come on, you don’t have to make fighting like that.”

[papal-babygirl]

2 and.... some form of haywillemses ❤❤ tlats

.listen. its body worship. it will always be rylyse

also, its monsters, where ryan is a vamp, and elyse is a water fae called an alven.

Elyse came home, looking exhausted, and fell immediately into Ryan’s arms. She was alone, and Ryan had to wonder where James had gone. It was far more pressing that Elyse looked so distressed, though.

“Hey, there dear..” He rubbed her side, and she squeaked a little at the touch and the words. Ryan caught her chin, looking her over. “What’s wrong?” She bit her lip and looked down.

“Don’t feel good today.” She said quietly, her cheeks shimmering. Ryan petted her hair soothingly, cocking his head.

“Sick?” He asksed

“Mmmhm.” She shook her head, breaking away from his touch a little. Ryan narrowed his eyes slightly, slowly figuring out what’s wrong.

“Bad thoughts?” She hesitated before nodding, arms starting to shimmer and almost disappear.

“Oh, darling, c’mere..” He beckoned her into his arms more before scooping her up, bridal style. Elyse clung to his neck, nuzzling into him and making quiet noises. “I think I know just what you need.”

“And what’s that?” Elyse murmured, lashes fluttering as he carried her to the bedroom.

“To be absolutely worshiped so you know how untrue those bad thoughts are.” Ryan said, plain as day, kicking the door closed behind him. Elyse made another soft noise, skin shimmery as ever. Ryan chuckled, his fangs barely passing his lips as he set her down on the bed. “Get cozy, mm?” She scooted back, trying to seem comfortable in the middle of the big bed. Ryan was over her in a moment, not predatory like he sometimes liked to be, but caring and soft. He stroked his knuckles down her cheek, smiling at her and trying to get her to smile back. A small patch of her cheek shimmered out of existence.

Ryan bent down to kiss her softly, running a hand down her cheek and jaw, cupping the back of her head. He pulled back to breathe, their lips sticking as he did.

“You’re so beautiful..” He murmured, fingers tracing her jaw, and she looked down, lashes framing her cheeks beautifully.

“Don’t really feel like it today..” Elyse replied, and Ryan looked genuinely shocked.

“You’re beautiful every day.” Ryan affirmed, sliding down a little to slip his hands just below the hem of her tank top. “This ok?” She nodded and Ryan smiled, tracing along her hips. “You are absolutely gorgeous, darling… even if you don’t feel like it.”

“Even if I feel.. invisible?” Elyse asked shyly, and Ryan nodded. 

“I’ll always notice you, no matter how invisible you feel, or are.” Ryan smiled, a little toothy, and Elyse blushed and sank down. Ryan pushed her shirt up, revealing her slim stomach, gentle curves, and the cute little stripe of constant shimmer down the very center of her stomach, just in line with her navel. “And I will always love you, no matter how bad you feel, or how much you wanna disappear.” Ryan slid down a bit, kissing her stomach softly. She gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth in surprise as Ryan kissed his way up her body, pushing the tank top over her head and tossing it to the floor. He pulled back with an almost shocking agility, the scent of her suddenly flooding him, and the desire to feed as well.

But that was for a later time. He would have to forget the sweetness of his love in lieu of loving her fully. Ryan licked over his fangs, trying to calm himself before drawing his hands down her side sweetly. “Love the bra.” It was a soft blue lacy piece, and Elyse shrugged with one shoulder.

“Trying to feel pretty this morning.” She mumbled, and Ryan cupped her side, thumb skirting the lace of the band.

“You’ve succeeded, then.” Ryan smiled widely, trying to prompt a smile from her, and got something small and unsure in return. It was something.

“I guess so..” She mumbled and Ryan dipped down to kiss her again, getting a small whine.

“You, and every part of you is gorgeous.” Ryan promised, and Elyse shimmered heavily. Ryan chuckled and slipped down to between her legs, and figured he might as well be honest with what he wanted.

“Baby... can I eat you out? Really show you how beautiful I think you are?” Elyse gasped, sitting up.

“You.. you really want to?” Ryan nodded and hooked his fingers in her waistband, as if that answered the question as well.

“More than anything, beautiful.” Elyse squirmed at the lovely name, and melted into the pillow.

“If you want..” Ryan simply nodded and popped the button on her jeans, quickly getting them off and discarding them to the side. 

“Absolutely gorgeous..” She had a complimentary pair of panties on, a light blue polka dot silk, and Ryan drew his fingers over her hips and the gentle dip of them. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen...” Elyse squeaked softly and disappeared fully, “Rather, not seen.” Ryan chuckled, and Elyse shimmered back mostly with a giggle.

He sank down between her legs, pressing soft kisses to her covered folds, getting gasps from her that already sounded so good. “There we are, beautiful.” He let a little drawl slip into his voice, knowing how it washed over her. As much as he would have loved to stay there all evening, he didn’t want to be a tease. Wanted to be just what she needed and wanted. He hooked his fingers into the waistband and pulled them down with little ceremony, only to look on her like she was his guiding light. He drew his fingers along her lips, spreading them a little and kissing at her thighs idly. “What a pretty girl you are..” Ryan dipped down and pressed a kiss to her folds, daring to stick his tongue out for a brief little flick.

“Ry-ryan..” She gasped out, hands going to his hair desperately, and he took that as a cue to continue. He started with just his lips and tongue, swirling, flicking, a perfect mix of pleasure and denial, taking his sweet sweet time. She shimmered in and out of view as he kept going, and she looked so beautiful, ethereal. Ryan was fully in love.

He eventually teased a finger in her, then another, making her squirm and make soft noises with a little come hither motion as he lapped gently at her. Ryan met her eyes every so often, blue eyes blown with pleasure, met by blue eyes blown with love. It was little effort then to get her to come around his fingers, shimmering until she was totally invisible for a brief second, and then as she came back to earth, she was visible once more.

“Ryan.. c’mere..” She made grabby hands for him once she was able to think and drew him into her arms. “Thank you..”

“For?”

“Helping me out.” She looked down, crossing her legs a bit. “Dunno. Guess I like that you notice when my brain isn’t feeling good even faster than James.”

Ryan shrugged, “Seems a lot more obvious to me, maybe.” She hummed thoughtfully. 

“Either way. I love you a lot.”

“I adore you, beautiful.”

[papal-babygirl]

Orisa

Me, who has never written nor read an overwatch in my life: I got this

Efi squints up at her creation, lying dormant and hooked up to computers and monitors around the workshop. All that remains is to see if she’ll turn on. Efi scrambles to a keyboard, punching in commands and looking up to see the robot’s eyes glow.

Efi really can’t help the bouncing.. or the soft little squeal of joy that her project actually worked.

“You and I have a lot of work to get done.”

[papal-babygirl]

day 3!! @ragehappyfemslash

college au!! barbelyse!!!

           Elyse had a cute girl in her class, and she hated it a lot. Not really, this girl was really cute and it was great, because she’s cute and smart and is also Canadian. Which, you know, isn’t rare, but finding a cute funny girl who’s also Canadian is really something.

           There’s no way she’s also into girls.

           There’s no way all Elyse’s staring would amount to anything other than another dumb crush on a straight girl. But boy, boy was she gonna crush till she knew for sure.

           It felt like months, and then it was actually months, and then this girl wasn’t in her class, and Elyse had to go back home still crushing on her and hating that she might never see her again. She spent a whole month at home, trying to figure out just what film studies courses to take so that she might see this girl again.

           She felt silly, but there was nothing silly in the pursuit of love. That’s what she told herself.

           (It was really silly.)

           So she went back to school, trying to be hopeful but also realistic. And class by class went by, nothing… nothing until her last class.

           And there she was. Just as cute as ever, with her hair all curly and bouncy, and shiny lip gloss and oh her name was Barbara. Elyse was in love. Still a little hopeless, but very much in love. After Barbara didn’t recognize her (but why would she) Elyse slung her backpack over her shoulder dejectedly and headed out of class.

           Not before she could overhear something that would change her life. Kind of. Maybe. Yeah, it would.

           “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not.” Barbara said to a friend with a little pleased giggle, and Elyse did her best to not just up and stop walking.

           Did she… did she have a chance?

           Maybe she did?

           This meant one thing, and one thing only. She had to ask Barb out, no matter what. She vowed then and there to do it… at some point.

           Next class came and went, and Elyse said nothing, because she was a dumb gay baby who couldn’t talk to pretty girls. Which was what she said to herself as she stalked off, going to get herself a big cup of coffee and a bigger cup of regret with it.

           Another class went by, and Barb even made another joke about the fact that she was very much into girls. Elyse felt emboldened to say something, but Barb had to go quickly and Elyse lost her chance again.

           Next week. Next week had to be it. No matter what. She’d track Barbara down if it meant getting to talk to her. She couldn’t think about anything but that during class, and she was obviously staring every time Barbara talked. Class couldn’t go by fast enough, and when it did, Elyse packed up faster than she ever had in her life to get over to Barb.

           “H-Hey, Barb.” Elyse said, her voice shaking a bit.

           “Hey, Elyse!” Barb chirped, bouncing a little on her heels. Dear God, she was cute.

           “I… um, I was, maybe, um, wondering if you’d like to, like, go out for some, uh… coffee? Cause you’re cute and into girls, I think, and also Canadian, which, like, is cool, cause I’m Canadian too, and… yeah.” Elyse knew she was red, but damnit, she did it. She asked a cute girl out.

           “Are you asking me out because I’m Canadian?” Barb giggled a little, and looked down at her feet. “Because I’m down for that, but I want you to know that I’m saying yes because I think you’re also cute. It is cool you’re Canadian though.” Barb tacked on with a smile.

           “You do?” Elyse said, sounding as small as she felt. “I mean, it is? Wait…”

           “I do think you’re cute, and I do think it’s cool you’re Canadian, because you know, like a cute little piece of home right here, and I can go get coffee with her. Or, you know, I do know a pretty good place to get our most delicious of our national foods.” Barb grinned knowingly, and Elyse felt a lot better about herself for being a gay disaster if it led to this.

           “Let’s get some feckin’ poutine, eh?”

[papal-babygirl]

day 1 of rage happy femslash is heeeeeeere!!!! @ragehappyfemslash

fahc/fakehaus lindsay/elyse bit like @theloveandthestuff‘s fic but not because i wrote it and not her. 

lez go

          u up?

           charming, babe

           that’s me, honey, the most charming

           mmhm, thats why i got a u up text at eleven thirty, linds

           i was being polite!

           who isnt up at eleven thirty at night? babies???

           ok, fine, i was gunna invite you for some late night milkshakes after i make sure ryans asleep because that fucker is like a goddamn reaper but no. you’re gonna fight me

           i think he just has insomnia

           he sits in the living room with his mask on. thats not insomnia

           you dont know that

           a mans gotta have something to do when he cant sleep

           he should sneak out with his secret girlfriend from a rival crew. Its what i do.

           just be on the corner in twenty, ok?

           Lindsay snickered and pulled her shoes on, trying to be as quiet as possible. The rest of the crew had gotten back after a long day of... whatever they were doing, maybe trying out those new cars they got? Lindsay didn’t bother keeping track of what they did unless it cost the crew money. Which, admittedly, it often did, but today was not one of those days.

           She stuck her head out her door, and when there was silence that greeted her, she hugged the wall and made sure she had her keys before slipping down to the garage. Lindsay eyes Michael’s motorcycle, knowing that he often left the keys in it… and it would certainly make an impression if she could take Elyse to their usual date spot on a motorcycle…

           She’s got to do it. She knows Elyse is coming in her own car, but… it’s just too good to resist. And she can even swipe another helmet, and she’d look so cute… both of them, really.

           There isn’t a seconds’ hesitation as she hops onto the bike and pulls out of the garage, into the cool and slightly damp Los Santos air. She waits on the corner they always meet at, a sort of blind spot in Geoff’s security. It’s not that she thinks it’d be a big deal if the crew found out… she just wants to bring it up on her own terms.

           She’s in charge anyways, the crew couldn’t take her down if it fucking wanted to.

           Elyse pulled up just a couple minutes after she’d been parked there, in a car that Lindsay’s pretty sure Elyse nicked from James, and she’s very touched that Elyse also thought to swipe one of her crewmates vehicles to impress her.

           They were so alike sometimes.

           “Hey baby, you need a ride?” Elyse calls as she rolls down the window.

           “Funny, I was just about to ask the same thing.” Lindsay replies over the purr of the engine. Elyse bites her lip and kills the engine, grateful for a spot on the side of the road.

           “Fuck, you look really cool on that bike, I wanna take that.” Lindsay grins wickedly, pleased she won the date and offers the helmet as Elyse comes over.

           “Safety first.” Lindsay says decisively, kissing Elyse’s cheek softly and nesting the helmet on her hair. “I am so sorry for crushing your hair, it looks super cute.” It did, curled and beachy waves over her white jean jacket.

           “It’s fine, I only curled my hair for an hour to get it like this.” Elyse says wryly, and Lindsay groans.

           “Come on, baby, I said I was sorry!” Lindsay whines a little, pouting out a carefully painted red lip.

           “You’re forgiven, but you have to get me one of the nice milkshakes with candy in them to make it up to me.” Elyse nods firmly, and Lindsay just smiles a little.

           “For you, honey? The nicest of milkshakes. Now.” Lindsay kicks up the kickstand with her heel. “Hold on tight, and don’t let go till we get to the shop. Mostly cause I want a twenty minute hug, but, you know. For safety as well.” Elyse groans, but shuffles forward and latches her arms around Lindsay.

           “You’re so ridiculous, just drive, Linds.”

           “As you wish, baby.”