My special selection: Oscar Isaac, Dev Patel, Cillian Murphy, David Harbour, Stanley Tucci.
thanks for sending these ❤️ I totally forgot to do it last night lmao but better late than never!!
oscar isaac: a very obvious & enthusiastic yes
dev patel: A VERY OBVIOUS AND ENTHUSIASTIC HELL FUCKING YES. more than almost any other famous man
cillian murphy: also yes, even though i’d spend the whole time thinking about that one tumblr post saying that he looks like he was designed by someone who was horny but full of catholic guilt. luckily that’s my type
david harbour: i only know him for his 5 minute bit in brokeback mountain and while i’m sure he’s nice it’s gotta be a no from me
stanley tucci: absolutely not. that’d feel like sleeping with your gay uncle. I know he’s straight but still
send me the name of a famous guy & i’ll say whether i’d hit that
Prompt, for later: Bill and Holden are together for quite some time and keep it secret. One day Bill gets an invitation to a wedding with his +1, but he can't bring Holden so he throws it out. Holden finds it and tries to convince Bill to go alone, but Bill is adamant. Later he confesses to Wendy he wishes he could marry Holden. She describes marriage as a financial contract, BUT is secretly a romantic, so she tells him that even if marriage is impossible, he can propose and make his vows.
Ok I am taking a brief break from my long fic because I have not stopped thinking about this prompt since I got it. The gay yearning in this … i can’t 😭 Thank you, and here you go 💕:
The invitation comes on crisp, eggshell white stationary with watercolor lilacs and gold calligraphy lettering. It’s addressed to Bill, but at the bottom in the delicate, cursive lettering, it suggests he bring a plus one when RSVPing to help the two celebrate a day of “love that’s meant to be.”
He finds it between his water bill and a piece of junk mail, and almost immediately throws it in the garbage. It’s not that he doesn’t want to attend his old pal’s wedding. He knew the guy way back in the day when the BSU was first founded. Though they haven’t kept up over the years, Bill knows what kind of person he is - and who else will be at the wedding. A whole lot of FBI good ol’ boys, relics of the Hoover system, the principled type who would have undoubtedly thrown a fit if they knew Holden took “fellatio” and “cunnilingus” off the list of deviant terminology. Guys who would take one look at Bill bringing Holden as his plus one, and draw all kinds of conclusions - every single one of them correct.
The invitation sails into the garbage can on top of a paper plate spattered with day old ketchup.
Later that evening, Holden comes over with carry-out from the burger joint down the road, and a case of beer. Once they’ve gorged themselves on burgers and fries and shared two beers, Holden is snuggled up in his arms, half falling asleep while the television plays The Godfather.
The wedding theme is following him, Bill thinks. Maybe it’s the universe trying to tell him something.
He glances down at Holden’s flushed cheek nestled against his chest, his dark eyelashes shielding Bill from a glimpse of his pretty blue eyes. His hair is a tousled mess from Bill running his fingers through it, and the puckered swell of his lower lip has the same affect on him that always does: a deep, magnetic urge to kiss Holden senseless.
Bill glances back at the television screen, trying to focus his attention back on the film. He’s been through love and marriage, buying a house together, having a kid, all the normal things that are expected - or rather readily accessible - to a heterosexual couple. It’s confetti, icing on a cake when the batter would have been satisfying enough. He doesn’t need all that. What they have between them, secretly is good enough even if Bill can never take Holden as his plus one to a wedding, or walk down the aisle towards him in their own celebration of love meant to be.
He’s usually pretty good at giving himself a pep talk and moving on. This time, it doesn’t stick. He can’t bury his feelings, but he should have at least burned the invitation.
A few days later, they’re getting ready for work in the morning. Bill is standing over the kitchen counter drinking his coffee and reading the newspaper while Holden uses the blender to mix a smoothie. As the whir of the blender dies down, Holden turns to Bill with a curious gaze.
“Is everything okay with you?”
“What?” Bill asks, looking up from the paper. “Yeah. Why?”
“You’ve been quiet the past few days.”
“I have?”
“Yes.” Holden says, pouring out his smoothie into a glass. He takes a sip, leaving a milky line on his upper.
“You’ve got some …” Bill mutters, leaning over to kiss the smoothie off Holden’s mouth.
Holden leans into him, sighing into the kiss. He chuckles as he pulls his mouth away. “Hey, don’t change the subject.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.” Holden objects, freeing himself from Bill’s embrace.
“Holden, I’m fine. Really. I’m just tired.”
Holden stares him down for a moment before spinning around, and marching over to the side table where Bill keeps his bills in order. He pulls a slip of paper from the bottom of the stack, and holds it up.
“It doesn’t have anything to do with this?”
Bill recognizes the ketchup-stained wedding invitation almost immediately. He sputters in disbelief for a moment before scraping together a defensive retort. “First of all, you’re going through my trash?”
“It was sitting right on top.” Holden says, “Isn’t Jim a really old friend of yours?”
“Yes.” Bill says, tersely.
“Then why are you throwing out his wedding invitation?”
Bill presses his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, trying to quell his frustration. “Because.”
“Because why?” Holden presses, “Because it says plus one on here?”
Bill opens his eyes, casting Holden a narrowed gaze. Holden stares back at him with an expectant look, waiting for an explanation.
“Look, I’m probably not going to be able to attend anyway.” Bill says, “We’re out of town half of the time, and the other half we’re way too busy to be-”
“It’s on a Saturday.”
“I know, but it’s all the way in Newark and-”
“You could make time.”
Bill turns back to his newspaper, swallowing down a hot drink of coffee. It burns the back of his throat where an agitated knot is beginning to form.
“I don’t know why you fucking care.” He says, “Jim is my friend, and if I don’t want to go then that’s my business.”
Holden sighs, sounding a little wounded. “Fine. But I wouldn’t be upset if you went alone. I understand how it would look.”
“It isn’t that.” Bill says, sharply. “I don’t care what those people think of me.”
“Yes, you do.” Holden says, softly. “Every time you touch me you’re breaking the law.”
Bill looks up from the mass of little, black letters printed uniformly across the newspaper. His chest stings against the raw truth of what Holden is saying. The law is against them in every way, and they’re flirting with danger every time they so much as hold hands under the table in a restaurant. And to think, Bill had indulged himself in dreaming of Holden in a white chapel, his hair combed back and gleaming in the light, his chest sprouting with wedding day flowers.
“I’m sorry.” Holden says, “That was …”
“No, you’re right.” Bill says, “Come here.”
Holden lays the invitation down, and shuffles across the kitchen to Bill’s outstretched arm. Bill curls his arm around Holden’s neck, drawing him close to his chest.
Pressing a kiss to Holden’s temple, he whispers, “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“I would tell the world that if I could.”
Holden nods against his chest, his voice meek and muffled, “I know.”
After a few silent moments, they slowly break away from one another to continue getting ready for work. Conversation is stifled as they kiss as the front door, and go their separate ways to their cars.
Bill doesn’t see much of Holden for the rest of the day. They’re slammed with requests from police precincts, both of them up to their ears in piles of crime scene photos and profiles.
Bill thinks that it might be best to create some distance. The exchange this morning felt like some kind of argument that they don’t know how to resolve, not a fundamental issue with one another but rather with their situation. It’s not a riddle to solve or a behavior to analyze. There’s no understanding the way he feels about Holden, no moral resolution he can slot them into to convince himself that it’s okay. It just is. The way the sky is blue and the grass is green, he wants Holden in every way possible, only he can’t have it. It seems like a design flaw in the universe. They shouldn’t be mad with each other, but who else is there to be angry with for giving them this beautiful thing that’s constantly under threat of extinction?
At the end of the day, Holden pokes his head into Bill’s office.
“I’m about to leave for the day.” He says, “You coming?”
“I’m going to finish this up.” Bill says, motioning to the profile in front of him.
Holden’s mouth purses in a line meant to hide his disappointment, but it shines clearly through his eyes. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Yeah.”
“Okay.” Holden says, his gaze dropping towards the floor. “Bye.”
He turns to leave, and almost runs into Wendy who is on her way into Bill’s office. They exchange muttered goodbyes before Wendy slips past him into the office.
“I was just bringing you the application list.” She says, setting the folder on his desk. “You can look at it tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” Bill mutters, barely looking up from his notebook where his notes are scattered in nearly illegible chicken scratch.
Wendy pauses across the desk from him, her hands clasped in front of her.
“Was there something else?” He asks, taking his reading glasses off to meet her gaze.
“Is Holden okay?” She asks, her gaze reserved yet calculated.
“As far as I know.”
“He looked upset just now.”
Bill leans back in his chair, and lets out a sigh. He hesitates to tell Wendy their personal business, but she’s about the only person he trusts to unload on.
“Yeah, we um … we had a … I don’t know what you’d call it - disagreement - this morning.”
“Ah.” Wendy says, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Bill glances away. He instinctively reaches for his cigarettes to soothe his nerves.
Wendy closes the door of the office, and comes back to take the chair across from him. She crosses her legs, and folds her hands patiently in her lap.
“An old buddy of mine is getting married.” Bill says, focusing on the tip of his cigarette catching flame. “I got the invitation the other day.”
“Okay.” Wendy says, slowly.
“I threw it away.” Bill says, taking drag of his cigarette, and tilting his head back to exhale smoke towards the ceiling. “Holden found it in the trash.”
Wendy’s head tilts to one side as she quietly analyzes this information.
Bill sighs, and shakes his head. “I don’t know. I thought I didn’t want to go because it said on the invitation that I should bring a plus one, and I know I can’t take Holden to that kind of thing. But, then he said something to me that …”
“What’s that?” Wendy asks, softly.
Bill stares at the singed tip of his cigarette, feeling the lump returning. He clears his throat against it, and pushes on, “Every time I touch him, I’m breaking the law.”
Wendy is quiet for a moment, absorbing the remark. “Is that how you feel?”
Bill glances up at her, a frown knitting his brow. “What do you mean?”
“Does it feel criminal?” She asks, “When you touch him.”
“No.” Bill whispers, “It feels … right. And, I suppose I didn’t realize it until he said it that the reason I didn’t want to go is because I don’t want to watch someone else get a second chance at marrying the love of their life when I don’t.”
“Your friend is remarrying?”
“Yeah.” Bill says, scoffing. “A third time, actually. I know for a fact he cheated on his ex-wife. So I guess it feels a little wrong that he gets to marry whoever the fuck he feels like, and I-”
He glances away, rubbing a hand over his mouth. Saying it aloud makes the truth of it burn worse, right down into his chest like acid.
“It is unfair.” Wendy says, “Heterosexual men and women get to abuse the constitution of marriage with impunity while you and I are left with the only thing we have - our privacy, a thing we must protect with our lives. At times, it feels like a struggle just to survive, and that very few people will ever understand what we experience every day.”
“So, what you’re saying is I shouldn’t isolate myself from Holden?” Bill asks, scoffing past the lump in his throat. “You’re probably right. I should apologize.”
“Yes, I’m saying that. But I’m saying something else, too.” Wendy says, smiling gently. “I’m saying that homosexuality has existed for centuries. It’s older than modern religion, and it’s much, much older than our government and their laws. Marriage, in the traditional sense, is a gathering and a celebration of two people who love each other very much. It isn’t defined by a courthouse or a piece of paper.”
Bill meets Wendy’s gaze, a smile tugging at his mouth. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“I had a lot of gay friends in Boston.” Wendy says, “They had marriage ceremonies all the time. Proposals, rings, vows, all of it. Perhaps it wasn’t valid in the eyes of the law, but that isn’t what mattered. It wasn’t a legal contract to them. It was a display of commitment and loyalty to someone they loved very much.”
“Wow.” Bill says, “That’s incredible.”
Wendy nods, and rises to her feet. “It’s not beyond your reach. Think about it.”
“I will. Thanks.”
She smiles, softly. “Have a good night, Bill.”
“You too.”
She slips out of the office, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Her words settle in slowly, past his frustrations at the injustices of the world. The clamor dies down, his emotions boiling down to one thing, one certainty - he loves Holden, and he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. Beyond that, the rest is melting away, inconsequential details, a few obstacles but none that he can’t hurdle.
Bill jumps up from his chair, leaving his cigarette half-smoked in the ashtray. The jewelry shop will be closing soon.
I forgot about the scene where Holden meets Brian and seeing it again I realized the way it's filmed puts Holden in two roles: Bill's 'son' and mother/wife. Bill coming from behind Holden and then sitting higher than him is literal display of his role in the house. He touches Holden’s arm when he speaks to Brian, making him the real subject of the message: unconsciously treating him as the one he's caring for and showing Holden, who took on a maternal role, he needs to let father parent now.
Maybe a little silly idea for a fic: Bill, sitting behind Holden and rubbing his tense shoulders, which causes Holden to gasp, moan and make other noises that sound erotic and at some point even grabs Bill's knee, and Bill just can't help himself not to kiss the nape of his neck. Things can go any way from there
You can’t send me a prompt this sexy and except me not to make it explicit 👀🤭 I can absolutely tell you where things went from there, but check out inevitable for yourself on AO3. Yes this got out of hand and I have no self-control, no I’m not sorry about it 💁♀️ Thanks for the prompt!
purplebeetle skomentował(a) Twój post “I’m about to CRY I just dug out my old blog from like 2008 through...”
how to use it, I'm curious about mine
@purplebeetle Honestly just google wayback machine and you should be able to find your blog through their search bar as long as you remember at least part of the url
You probably won’t find your whole blog though, just those parts that were archived (for example I am able to see most of my posts but I can’t click on the comments, cause they weren’t archived)
purplebeetle skomentował(a) Twój post “In regards to that Ted Bundy movie: it was nice to put the list of all...”
I started to watch the Netflix doc about Ted Bundy (Conversation with a killer) and combined with having seen this movie, I had to stop, because he seems too human to me. So human I found myself all too similar in some aspects and had a mini breakdown like Holden in Mindhunter. So there's that. ��
Huh, I think started watching it at some point, maybe I’ll pick it up again. Currently though, not to be facetious but I am tired of the dude. <shrug> It’s mentally exhausting to even think about him.
