HOMOSCRIBE

Original Character role play blog Mature Content minors dni

[homoscribe]

How did I get so lucky? You are like a combination of my favourite things, buddy

Henry Tobias Jackson, created and rebooted by GEM (34, He/Him, GMT)

An original character, flirting with many different genres, but always gay, gay, gay. Plot and smut-centric in equal measure. Writing is a hobby, not a career. I won't apologise for my erratic brain or libido.

Minors do not interact. Mun and Muse 21+.

About :: Rules :: Adult stuff

*Gifs courtesy of @harleystuff and @artreso

[happy-xy]

Spider-Man: Brand New Day (2026) Directed by Destin Daniel Cretton

[mamatere2]

[homoscribe]

I used to write multiple characters, lengthy posts, detailed backgrounds, dozens of novel-style posts per day. As soon as I went on anti-depressants to help me mentally, all that disappeared, only to return in short, sharp bursts. I used to be a good writer. I overthink things when I'm sober. In fact, when I'm pilled up and plied with booze nowadays, my writing seems to be better than when I'm sober. But then, I think that might be the case with other folk who have an iota of talent with writing.

[homoscribe]

I haven't been active in a while. I could blame health, or certain anniversaries. Ultimately, I will just admit that my muse for writing is very fickle. I love interacting with you all, and have constant ideas running through my head. It just takes a lot of energy and motivation for me to write a mediocre character. So, yeah, thanks for following and showing interest, but the average content I put out on this account takes a lot out of my tired, old, f*cked up brain.

[alissa-xyz]

“Excellent! I assume you have a notion of where he might be…”

I COULDN’T HELP MYSELF! I NEEDED HIS LITTLE DANCE AT THE END SO BADLY!!!

[homoscribe]

Just saw Harry Styles' performance at the Brits. I want nothing more than to be married to him.

[kataramenespsyxes]

Patrick’s knees nearly gave when Henry’s hand closed around him—warm, sure, the perfect pressure that made his hips jerk forward into the slow, deliberate slide.

A low, ragged breath punched out of him, chest heaving as he stared down at the sight: Henry’s long fingers curled tight around his cock, thumb brushing deliberately over the slick head on every upstroke, spreading the bead of precome that had already welled there.

His own hands found Henry’s shoulders again, fingers digging in hard enough to leave faint crescents through the shirt fabric. The belt’s dull thud still echoed faintly in his ears, but everything else narrowed to the wet glide of Henry’s palm, the faint callus on the inside of his thumb catching just right against the sensitive ridge underneath. Patrick’s thighs trembled, muscles locking as he fought the urge to thrust deeper into that grip.

Henry’s murmured “Lucky me” vibrated against the skin of his lower belly, and Patrick felt the words more than heard them—felt the puff of warm breath ghost over the base of his shaft, over the neat dark curls now fully exposed. His cock twitched hard in response, another bead of slick welling up and sliding down the underside to meet Henry’s stroking fingers.

He couldn’t stay still. His hips rolled in tiny, helpless circles, chasing the rhythm Henry set without rushing it. One hand slid up into Henry’s hair again, not pulling this time—just cradling, thumb stroking absently along the shell of his ear while his other palm flattened against the side of Henry’s neck, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse beneath the skin.

[homoscribe]

The younger man's response was encouraging of Henry's advances. The copious slick produced from turgid flesh, the gentle stroke at the shell of his ear and the palm pressed flat against his neck all conveyed Patrick's permission for Henry to escalate their intimacy.

The strong, moist tip of his tongue teased a gentle swipe at Patrick's leaking slit, tracing a firm line around the sensitive, engorged head. The pulsing excitement in response to his slow, firm strokes invited the heat of his mouth to wrap around the thick length.

Henry savored the light, salty, flavor of Patrick's essence, dark eyes searching Patrick's for his continued consent. The quiet room soon filled with the sound of hungry slurping and pitiful moans as the older man continued, his own length hard and pulsing in the cool night air.

With expert precision of hands, mouth and throat, Henry began to stimulate Patrick's length, the deep burn of desire building in his own stomach. His balls were tight, heavy, demanding, but his own need for release would wait patiently until the younger man was in his own state of bliss.

[homoscribe]

How did I get so lucky? You are like a combination of my favourite things, buddy

Henry Tobias Jackson, created and rebooted by GEM (34, He/Him, GMT)

An original character, flirting with many different genres, but always gay, gay, gay. Plot and smut-centric in equal measure. Writing is a hobby, not a career. I won't apologise for my erratic brain or libido.

Minors do not interact. Mun and Muse 21+.

About :: Rules :: Adult stuff

*Gifs courtesy of @harleystuff and @artreso

[homoscribe]

Please let me find dirty smut involving a stressed Dean Winchester and naive Stiles Stalinski

[homoscribe]

So the modern world now depends on Internet access. You have to pay a fortune in a lot of cases, yet it's a privatised industry that is very unreliable. All my depressed assed brain wants to do is write fanfic smut and objectify hot guys 🙄

[homoscribe]

Finally got my Internet fixed (fingers crossed).

[homoscribe]

Yesterday I heard God say, 'It's in your blood.'

[anciennement-dagonet]

Evan Peters as Todd Haynes in Kick-Ass (2010)

[homoscribe]

Henry was a cute dork in high school

[musclxheaven]

[kataramenespsyxes]

Patrick’s breath hitched the moment Henry’s lips brushed the bare skin just below his navel. The heat of that first kiss sent a slow, liquid shiver racing up his spine, making the fine hairs along his arms stand on end. He tipped his head back slightly, eyes fluttering half-closed, letting the sensation anchor him while his fingers—still clumsy with liquor and want—fumbled at the button of his trousers.

Henry’s mouth moved deliberately, unhurried, tracing the shallow dip that ran down the center of his abdomen like he was memorizing every inch with his tongue. Each press of lips felt heavier than the last, deliberate, almost reverent, and Patrick’s stomach muscles jumped under the attention. A quiet, involuntary sound slipped out of him—something between a sigh and a swallowed moan—and his hips rocked forward on instinct, seeking more contact.

His hands finally won the battle with the button; the zipper followed in a soft, metallic rasp. He shoved the fabric down just enough, boxers catching briefly on the swell of him before sliding lower too. Cool air hit overheated skin and he hissed through his teeth, fingers flexing against Henry’s shoulders for balance.

[homoscribe]

Henry took control. His tongue traced gentle lines along the sensitive nerves sitting atop sculpted muscle, his hands taking hold of Patrick's before taking care of the younger man's attire himself.

The heavy clasp and thick leather of Patrick's belt hit the ground with a dull thump, revealing smooth, toned thighs and underwear straining against his impressive bulge. The tightness of Henry's own groin grew more uncomfortable, the kisses and strokes of his tongue now leaving slick trails as he caught wind of Patrick's musk.

His middle fingers hooked under the waistband of Patrick's underwear, tugging firmly to reveal a neat bush and, inch by inch, the thick length of pulsing flesh that fought for freedom caught Henry's surprise.

He rocked backwards, allowing Patrick's length to spring free in all its glory, his gaze still focused on the approval reflected in that of his guest's. The thick, smooth flesh of his right palm engulfed the tumescent length, long fingers wrapping around its thickness, and slowly he began to tease and stroke.

“Lucky me.”

[kataramenespsyxes]

“A drink?” he echoed softly.

One corner of his mouth lifted.

“You are painfully committed to being well-mannered, Henry.”

He stepped closer.

Not rushed.

Not shy.

Close enough now that the space between their chests felt deliberate.

Patrick reached out and gently caught Henry’s wrist mid-button.

Just to stop him.

Just to look up at him.

“I’m already a little drunk,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “On you. On the night. On the fact that you made sure I was safe before you made me feel like this.”

A quiet beat.

His thumb brushed Henry’s pulse.

Steady.

Fast.

“But,” Patrick added, softer — honest in that dangerous way, “if you pour one… I’ll take it after.”

He leaned in and kissed him again.

Slow.

Unhurried.

A kiss meant to make time bend instead of disappear.

[homoscribe]

Even in the warm-glow of Henry's hotel room, Patrick's confidence with Henry deciding to let him take the lead for a moment or two. He paused, dark gaze meeting the younger man's, his own expression playful, but surprised. “Us Southern boys are always well-mannered.” Henry's accent shifted, each word spoken in a deep, Southern drawl. The alcohol made it easy to shed the carefully curated 'professional accent' he'd spent years perfecting.

He allowed Patrick's fingers to explore as they kissed, each stood in the middle of the room, intoxicated by one another more than the alcohol.

“Later then.” Henry mumbled against Patrick's lips, a firm hold on each hip guiding them towards the bedroom. Awkwardly, he kicked off his shoes, managed to remove one sock before the rear of his thighs connected with the foot of the bed.

He positioned Patrick to stand between his spread legs as he sat on the soft bedding, his hands working expensive fabric upwards to expose the smooth, toned abdomen he'd been caressing all night.

With his dark gaze still fixed on his guest's, Henry began peppering Patrick's stomach with soft kisses, following the curve of every taut muscle, distracting Patrick from his efforts to loosen up and remove his pants.