#enjoy though!

[chachacharlieco]

Pen's PSA! (Feat. Alex Ross!)

Here it is, guys! The super ultra mega secret project we've been working on! It's been such an honour and pleasure to collab with Mr Ross!

Watch it here on YouTube!

[splattynatty1984]

About to go through all your stories…rip your notifications! 🤭

I now feel like a student in school as my teacher grades my work right in front of me

[drarrily-we-row-along]

"Oh, Merlin," Draco said, voice tinged with that particular tone of vindictive glee that could only mean that Harry was about to get an ear full of gossip.

"What?" he asked as he poured coffee into Draco's mug.

"Thank you," Draco said as he tipped his head up, puckering his lips in search of a kiss.

Obviously, Harry obliged him, chest warming at the casual way Draco displayed affection. When he pulled away, he pecked Draco on the tip of the nose before going back to the stove top where he was cooking their eggs. "What were you going to say?" he prompted.

"Oh," Draco said, and even without looking, Harry could tell he was perking up, squaring his shoulders and grinning as he asked, "Did you read the paper this morning?"

"You know I don't read that garbage," Harry replied as he waved a hand at the toaster to put their toast down, whole wheat from him and rye for Draco.

"But you'll never guess the juicy details of this power couple's break up," he said.

"Power couple, huh?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes.

Draco hummed around a sip of coffee, "Mmhmm. They say they're on the rocks after one of them cheated with Neville Longbottom."

Harry laughed, "Ridiculous. Neville's not that type of bloke, he'd never be privy to something like that."

"Not so, according to this paper. They say that the slytherin snaked his way right into Neville's bed."

"Isn't Neville's bed also Blaise's bed?" he asked as he put their eggs on plates and brought them over.

"It is, but the paper doesn't seem to know it." He accepted his plate, "Thank you, love."

"Don't mention it," Harry replied as he plopped down across from him.

Draco grinned at him, his foot rubbing over Harry's calf. "Just wait until you hear the rest. Apparently Neville's been his side piece since their 8th year at Hogwarts."

"Who?" Harry asked, frowning and trying to get a glance at the newspaper.

"Why, me of course," he said with a grin. "Potter, don't you know that I'm an incorrigible flirt, that I'll bed anything that moves? I'm such a trollop."

Harry laughed, "Yes, they've really got you pegged," he said reaching across the table to take Draco's hand. "My sweet, loving husband who'd never so much as looked at another man's penis before we got married is out sleeping with anything that moves. My darling spouse who gave me his first kiss, definitely out whoring around now."

Draco grinned at him, "Well don't spoil all the fun of my sex-capades. If they want to believe I'm running around, may as well let them."

"You're mine," Harry murmured, bringing Draco's wrist to his lips to press a kiss to his tender skin. "All mine. And I don't care what the world thinks as long as you know it."

Cupping his cheek, Draco leaned across the table to brush a soft kiss over Harry's mouth. "All your's," he agreed. "There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

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

Read more of my fics, if you'd like.

[hungrydogs-if]

Fakeout makeout? Fakeout makeout.

(pretty please, dear author? 🥺)

oh boy you're getting some text now, nonny. you've opened the floodgates for one of my favorite tropes.

also these are a bit ambiguous and abrupt but i hope you enjoy! also all in the same setting.

dane

a wall catches your back just as a rough hand settles on the nape of your neck, cold rings a stark contrast to the sudden heat of his lips on yours. the beard scratches your chin as he holds still, the broad expanse of his torso shielding you from those prying eyes that settle on your darkened forms in the dimly-lit alley. you hear a distant voice mistake you for just a couple of drunken lovebirds, and you feel the chuckle that rumbles in his chest through where your hand is pressed against it. the footsteps recede until there is no other sound than your intermingled breathing, and the hammering of your heart beneath your chest. the fingers release your neck and trail over to tug at the lapels of your jacket, gripping it just for a moment longer before he pulls away with a laugh and a smile, his words a husky rumble in the darkness; "close call, huh?"

mona

she is swift when the footsteps approach, pulling you into an alcove with strength you know only she possesses. in the darkness you hear her ask, "do you trust me?" but she knows the answer. nimble fingers snake around your throat, sharp nails gently scratching into sensitive skin right below your ear and warm, plush lips press against yours as you stumble back against the wall. her thumbs soothe the edge of your jaw, and the taste of black cherries lingers on your lips as the darkness swallows you. the beam of a flashlight passes overhead, and in that brief moment you freeze, the hand that now rests on her hips tightening in response. she pulls away, whispers a reassuring hush, amber eyes glinting in that brief luminous glow. as the footsteps grow distant, she offers you a final caress across your cheekbones, and you know you're safe once again.

sam (no kiss, hugs instead)

their fingers are cold wrapped around your wrist. labored breaths escape both of you, and the feeling of hopelessness creeps closer with every footsteps you hear approaching further behind. a sudden diversion of your path makes you stumble, leg catching a stray debris and you feel gravity meeting you. the pain never comes, a soft body trapped beneath yours as you lie on top of them, heat radiating off overexerted bodies hiding in the shadows. when the footsteps grow louder, they panic, wide eyes darting from you to the alley, and suddenly your body is pulled towards them in an impressive feat of strength. they hug you tight, and you, too, let your head rest against their shoulder as you return the embrace. you stay there for what feels like hours until the night is once again quiet, and you've never enjoyed the silence of the city quite as much as you do then, held tight in those arms.

thirteen

stray lights reflect off a visor when they tilt their head, eerily quiet, like death itself. a miniscule raise of their chin is all the warning you get before gloved fingers curl around your forearm, and the world shifts on its axis. a wall welcomes you with a harsh pain, and you bite your tongue not to make a sound. in a rush, your vision goes dark. the smell of leather invades your senses, the sensation of a warm palm over your eyes a sudden shift. the hollering continues, echoing down the narrow alley, but the impact of what you know is fiberglass on asphalt steals your attention. a questions forms on your lips, your own fingers reaching for the hand planted over your eyes only to be pushed aside, pinned to the cold wall by your head. the questions are swiftly silenced by something rough - lips not at all soft, but scarred, with a deep gouge across, leaving the sensation bizarre, asymmetrical. before you can collect you thoughts, the cold fiberglass of a Helmer grazes the bridge of your nose, and the warm leather disappears from your eyes, leaving you blinking at your own reflection in that infernal, abyssal visor. the phantom sensation still lingers on your lips, and they lift a finger to their face in a shushing motion, only then releasing the hand still pinned to the wall.

angel

"what did you do, what did you do" the words are spoken in a panic, two strong hands on your shoulders in attempt to shake the answer out of you. hazel eyes burn into yours, wild and frantic. searching for an answer you can't articulate. a frustrated growl comes from them as they pace, hands running through their hair. your brain doesn't catch up with your movements before you've shedded the telltale jacket off your shoulders, quickly discarded on the ground, swallowed by the shadows falling around you. your hands are on their body before you realize, and the grunt of impact is swallowed by your lips when they tumble against the harsh wall. you feel angry fingers curling into the collar of your shirt, freezing there as voices call out from beyond the darkness. their lips are soft, cold in the frigid evening air, and you feel the snarl in how they mold against yours, if only for a moment before the sounds of angry pursuers vanish and you're roughly shoved back. meeting those furious eyes is a sight, and in the low light you see no hazel, only blown pupils glaring daggers at you.

[callistosam]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

description

Lying and reading in the pews is his favorite thing to do when his dad drops him off at Pastor Jim’s church — he feels hidden between the wooden flats of the pews and small beneath the vaulted ceiling. ... Sam and religion, explored through the Holy Trinity <3

[newtafterdark]

*RUNS INTO YOUR ASK BOX* bruh…it’s still pride month and to get my obscure blorbo fix I gotta ask the probably most unhinged question you have ever gotten: LGBT+ hui buh headcanons? 👀

Ooooooo! Alright, here's the thing though - I even thought about head canons like that back in the day when I saw the first movie, even when I didn't have the words for it yet!

So here you got the specific queer thoughts I've had for the main gang for a while:

Julius - That man is so bi to me. Genuinely, the way he and Charles interact with each other is so important to me. Like, it always felt like "We understand each other on such a deep level and we are so comfortable with each other", especially in the second movie. Julius is a disaster when it comes to instantly falling in love with every woman he meets, but with Charles everything is unshakable. Charles - Gay as can be. Yeah, he's already written as a flamboyant character... but I can only again point at what I wrote above. Konstanzia - This is based on absolutely nothing, but she is bi to me. She should've had the opportunity to interact with more female characters who are not antagonistic just to see what the vibe is there, you know? I am simply saying she would've had the same reaction to the Witch Queen in the second movie as her husband Julius had. ANYWAY, yeah these three are in a polycule in my brain. Very much Konstanzia going "This is my husband Julius and his boyfriend Charles! :>" Hui Buh - This man is important to me (to no-one's surprise), because he's several hundred years removed from when the movies happen due to being a ghost for so long. Sure, he'll learn new words for concepts, but... well, it didn't really matter back when he was still alive. Still, if Tommy or Ophelia ever asked, he would probably settle with panromantic. Sexuality wise... he's internally unsure. The new words still don't feel right, even as he gets used to hearing them. He's the kinda guy who'll say "I'll take anyone who'll have me!" and that's just genuinely how it is. So, technically, this man is full pan, but he just doesn't use the word. Queer though? He'll happily call himself queer! Hell, aside from all the romance, you know he has some fun stuff going on with his gender too!

[placetneplacet]

Y’all are fooling exactly Zero people…