CURRENTLY WATCHING: Just finished watching Southland, and now I’m looking for something new to start
CURRENT OBSESSION: Shawn Hatosy, I fear I am one of many here but the hyperfixation has yet to calm tf down (but I still love Hangster and all my tgm babies)
CURRENTLY READING: I just started Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus! I loved the show so I’m excited to read it.
CURRENTLY WORKING ON: The will to do anything? Idk y’all, I got hit with ao3 writer’s curse lately so we’re just trying to make it to the next day lmao
CURRENTLY WEARING: An old shirt from my Alma mater and grey sweats
LAST GOOGLE SEARCH: Can you get a PA if you’re uncut? Best positions for BKA? At home saunas - if it wasn’t obvious, this was fic research
FAVOURITE FLOWER: Orchids, I can’t keep plants alive sadly, but I love to look at them
As is tradition, I am tagging anyone willing to share as I’d love to get to know all of you better ❤️
I was tagged by the incredibly talented @tgmsunmontue @sonnywrites and @stars-of-nixie. Unfortunately for me, I haven’t written properly in months 😭
Here is a snippet of the fic I’m slogging through writing for a friend though (it’s all I’ve got):
Dennis hovers at the open doorway of the gym for a moment, peeking in to survey the situation. There’s a half empty water bottle sitting on the floor by the squat rack, and one of the towels he knows Jack uses to mop up sweat slung over the bar. He’s about to leave and check the backyard when another sound comes from the sauna in the corner. Dennis can see the steam fogging up the glass door from here and takes a tentative step forward. He can just make out the outline of a person, and two large hands against the glass. He’s close enough now that he can hear the whispered words coming from the other side of the glass.
“Fuck, Jack, we shouldn’t.” Robby’s voice is raspier first thing in the morning, and it has traitorous arousal pooling in Dennis’ stomach immediately. “The kid could hear.”
“Then I guess you better be quiet then, huh, Mikey?” Jack’s teasing is immediately followed by a wet sound, and Dennis is finally starting to understand what a mistake he’s made. His feet feel glued to the floor beneath him though. “Unless that’s what you want? You want your teacher’s pet to come see what a slut you are for my mouth?”
Pre med Rabbot arguing about something in their dorm. Jack takes a playful, but irritated swipe at Robby and they end up wrestling.
Robby puts up a good fight, but Jack did a ton of sports in high school and still keeps up with regular workouts, so it’s not long before Jack has Robby pinned on his stomach under him.
And… well… all that rolling around… getting his blood pumping…
He’s hard. Jack’s hard, and his dick is pressed right between Robby’s ass cheeks. When he realizes, he freezes. His brain finally catches up with reality, but before he can apologize and move away, Robby rolls his hips backwards.
A low moan rumbles through Jack. Cautiously, he pushes forward. It feels so good. The scrape of his boxers and Robby’s pajama pants provides a soft friction, but the materials are thin enough that he can still feel the heat of Robby through their clothes.
Robby pushes back again; Jack pushes forward.
This slow back and forth goes on for a few minutes before Jack snaps. He places a firm hand on the floor next to Robby’s head, and the other tight on his hip, keeping Robby’s hips tilted up just right for Jack to hump against like a wild animal.
Robby lies there and takes it. Biting his lip to muffle his needy whines and looking back at Jack with glazed-over eyes and beautiful pink cheeks smashed into the floor.
It doesn’t take long for Jack to cum, leaving what should be a humiliatingly large stain in his underwear, but he doesn’t care. He leans back on his knees, trying to catch his breath and bring his consciousness back inside his body.
In that time, Robby rolls over onto his back, exposing the large tent that’s formed in his pants. He moves to wiggle out from under Jack, presumably to take care of his own obvious problem, but Jack pins him down again with a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Robby looks up at him with those gorgeous brown eyes. Jack’s own trace the desperate bob of Robby’s Adam’s Apple before darting back down to his covered hard-on.
Jack places a flat palm on Robby’s clothed dick. A small, pitiful sound breaks through Robby.
“Do it,” Jack demands.
Robby’s breath stutters, a little confused, but he catches on quickly. He plants his feet for leverage and bucks his hips, rubbing his hard dick against Jack’s unmoving, flat hand.
With each thrust, Robby loses more and more of his composure. Soon his face blooms into a radiant red, and the hold on his lip slips, releasing wanton moans into the air.
Jack is too recently spent to go again, but that doesn’t stop his dick from twitching in interest.
Robby orgasms so prettily. His moans echo through the room, and his blush has descended past the collar of his shirt. Jack resists the temptation to lift the hem and check how far down it goes.
“We good?” Jack asks. His palm is still hot from all Robby’s rubbing.
“Yeah.” Robby swallows. “We’re good.”
After that, they enter a silent agreement to get each other off. It starts slow, with little brushes here and there that turn into more humping and the occasional hand.
But they also have unspoken rules. No purposeful skin-to-skin, no getting naked, and no kissing.
They get close sometimes. Fingers brushing under lifted shift hems and heavy panting into each other’s mouths, but they never cross the line.
That is, until Jack gets home from class, pent up beyond belief.
It’s been a long week, and all Jack could think about during that dull-ass lecture was Robby’s pretty blissed-out face. And then when he walks into their dorm, there he is in nothing but his underwear, waiting for his leftovers to finish in the microwave.
Jack snaps. Before he can think, he’s shoving his jeans down to his knees, and Robby is bent over the counter, letting himself be humped in the middle of their kitchen with Jack’s hands enveloping his thin waist. Jack figures it’s not really breaking the rules, more bending, since he wouldn’t be touching Robby’s bare torso if he was properly dressed.
“I didn’t know you wore panties,” Jack huffs.
“I— I don’t.” Robby's arguing is undercut by his soft whimpers and the fact that Jack can see the tiny briefs cupping his ass. His cheeks bounce under the material with each of Jack’s thrusts.
Jack’s grip on Robby’s waist tightens, and is pace increases. It’s not long before a familiar wet puddle forms in his boxers.
The microwave is beeping somewhere far away, but Jack doesn’t give a shit. He’s too focused on placing Robby against the fridge. Jack cups his hands under Robby’s thighs and helps him grind against his stomach.
The briefs give Jack a nice outline of Robby’s dick. It’s nothing special. Jack could probably cover the whole thing with one fist; he imagines it leaving a trail over Robby’s thin stomach while Jack fucks him until he cries.
Robby’s little whines turn to moans, and for the first time, Jack is able to see that pretty pink blush crawl all the way down to his nipples. Fuck. Jack’s mouth waters; he wants to bite them so bad, but he can’t. That would definitely be against the rules.
Although… the way Robby is looking at him is already pushing it. Jack knows Robby wants to kiss him. If he did, Jack would shove his tongue so far down his throat that he’d be able to feel all of Robby’s pretty noises. But he doesn’t, and Jack isn’t about to be the one to knock down that barrier.
Robby cums in his little panties with his head tilted back, and goddamn it takes every bit of strength in Jack not to latch onto his neck.
Delicately, he places Robby’s shaking feet back on the ground.
“Thanks,” Jack says.
It takes Robby a moment to comprehend what Jack said. “Oh, yeah,” he says eventually. “Thank you too…”
Robby looks so dizzy. Jack wants to wrap him in his arms and hold him until his balance returns; he wants to bury them both beneath a blanket and pretend nothing else exists.
He pats Robby’s shoulder; good game, and walks away.
Made a whitaker drawing and decided it had to be hucklerobbot so i also made a sketchy drawing of robby and Abbot realizing they are old and creeps (i love them so much)
Also the whitaker drawing is on my inprint
This is a gallery-quality giclée art print on 100% cotton rag archival paper, printed with archival inks.
Tagged by my fellow fatm fan @chaos-bear to share my humble lil account with y’all ❤️
1. Number of works posted: 106
2. Total word count: 637,083
3. Longest fic: Metanoia (85,541)
4. Fic with the most kudos: Metanoia (960)
5. Shortest fic: Seven Minutes (1035)
7. Fic with the most comment threads: Metanoia (128)
8. Fic with the most subscriptions: Metanoia (121)
9. Fandoms written for: Animal Kingdom, Arcane, Avengers, Deadpool, Harry Potter (and Cursed Child), Heated Rivalry, Outer Range, the Pitt, Spider-Man, Top Gun, Twister (12)
10. Number of pairings written: 46 (soon to be 47)
Continuing the tradition of an open tag, anyone who feels comfy sharing can play and tag me so I can bookmark the fics 😉
I’m late, but the amazing @tgmsunmontue @stars-of-nixie and @sonnywrites tagged me, and I actually wrote something down this week to share 😭
Dennis wakes up to the sun filtering in from the wrong direction. By which he means, filtering in at all. In his tiny shoebox of a room in Trinity’s apartment that sits above the shady Chinese food place they both love, there is exactly one window that is just large enough for it to legally be considered a bedroom. One window that is on the West wall, so either Dennis has slept away the entire day or he’s not in his own bed. Which, come to think of it, is far more comfortable than the thin mattress he sleeps on each night, and his pillows aren’t half as fluffy.
Slowly, Dennis opens his eyes to take in his surroundings, head still muzzy from sleep. There’s not much in the room to differentiate it from any generic hotel. He lies on a queen sized mattress under a plain green duvet and stacked, downy pillows. There’s a night stand nestled on either side of the bed, with a lamp on one and Dennis’ phone charging on the other. A peak over the edge of the bed reveals hardwood floors. The light coloured walls reflect the sunlight and make the room bright enough to make his head pound mildly.
It’s the headache that brings the previous night crashing back to his memory.
He rested his cold, pale cheek against the man's chest. His eyes, blood-red, stared into space, while he traced small circles above Jack's collarbone with a finger.
“If I ever lose control, if I ever try to hurt you,”
The vampire shifted his gaze to the man, his sharp, white teeth peeking out from his lips.
“You'll kill me, you won't think twice about driving a stake through my heart.” The boy's hand stopped, as did time around them.
Jack and Robby had been doing this job for years, traveling all over the country in search of those so-called blood-sucking monsters, killing more than they could count.
Of course, after thirty years of career, they hadn't expected to encounter a wounded and alone vampire in a castle, deciding to spare him for no apparent reason, and falling in love with him in the process.
And now there they were, in that large four-poster bed, Robby snoring softly beside them as the two whispered.
"Why are you asking me?" Jack asked, running his thumb over those red lips, leaning his head to kiss them, unable to suppress the urge.
"Because I know Robby, he would never hurt me, but you—" He rose on his elbows, moving even closer to the man.
"You love that man more than your own life, and even though I know you care about me, you would never let anything happen to him." He kissed Jack, his tongue caressing the man's.
"Do you promise me?" He asked, fluttering those long, perfect eyelashes, his blond curls falling softly over his forehead, and one hand slowly slipping under the covers, caressing Jack's inner thigh.
"Yes." He replied, his voice hoarse and his stomach heavy, hoping that nightmare would never come.
Sadly, God had never been good at listening to his prayers.
It happened only a few months later. A storm trapped them inside that gloomy castle; drifts and drifts of snow had piled up outside the gates, making it impossible for anyone to get out.
Dennis tried, at first, transforming into a small bat and emerging from one of the windows, trying to reach the nearest village to call for help, but the strong winds wouldn't allow him to get more than a mile from the fortress.
Fortunately, Jack and Robby were prudent, always keeping plenty of food supplies to survive situations like that.
Unfortunately, there was no other living soul for Dennis to drink blood from within those four walls.
It started slowly: he grew increasingly restless, angry, snapping at the slightest thing. He lingered longer and longer to sniff the two men, a thread of drool dripping from his lip.
And Jack prayed, silently, before God, that Dennis would hold on, that the sun would return to melt the snow and allow the vampire to find some animal to draw blood from.
But the sun never came.
And Jack had always been good at keeping his promises.
So, when one night, Dennis, delirious and hungry, his eyes even redder than usual, his canines even sharper, and his fingernails as sharp as razor blades, tried to grab Robby, shouting words neither man could understand, Jack moved before he could even think.
One second, he was beside his husband, trying to reason with Dennis.
The next, he was holding the boy's body in his arms, his hand gripping a wooden stake driven right into the center of the vampire's chest.
Blood gushed out, pitch black, soaking both men's clothes. Not a fly dared to make a noise in the castle.
Dennis coughed blood, wetting his lips and face. For a moment, his eyes turned blue. In his agony, he managed a smile.
"Thank you." He gurgled, his mouth full of black liquid, as his body began to come apart in Jack's hands.
In an instant, the body was gone. Only blood and gray ash remained where the boy had been.
Robby screamed, grabbing Jack by the shirt, shaking him and asking him why, telling him they could have talked some sense into him, telling him he'd never forgive him.
And as Robby spat venom at him and the blood on his clothes and hands began to dry, something occurred to Jack.
aka jake losing his mind over a crush, 1k of pure crack
Jake: dude I'm in this briefing and I can't look at him
Javy: are you texting in front of Cyclone?
Jake: It's either this or grinning like an idiot
Jake: it's just me, my crush, and his ugly mustache
read more on AO3
RustandStardust @rustandstardustbinds - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
titsay
izzy806
kianamaiart
theartofmadeline
pixelskylines
