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#It’s very disgusting too that I say in my pinned post that smut triggers me and I find my art on posted with smut headcanons
peachypede · 29 days
Text
It’s come to my attention that the Poppy Playtime fandom has a huge art stealing problem. There are writing blogs that are stealing people’s art and posting their headcanons/writing under them.
I’m here to tell you that you need to always, ALWAYS ask permission from an artist to use their work.
It’s very rude to use art that isn’t yours without permission. It doesn’t matter if you have a disclaimer that the art isn’t yours or if you have a post telling artists to politely ask for their art not to be on your post. It’s YOUR responsibility to ask for permission first and to respect their answer. It’s not the artist’s job to hunt you down and ask you nicely to stop.
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justsomeficrecs · 5 years
Text
Sambucky/winterfalcon one shot fic rec list
I’ve been reading lot of winterfalcon fics since I watched endgame so I thought I would share! I didn’t realise until I finished that this was pretty much just a notcaypollard appreciation post so sorry for that! This are some of the first fics I read of this ship, so if you are just getting started I would reccomend these, since they are probably some of the more popular ones. Non of these fics had trigger warnings on them but please remember to check the tags of the individual fic for your safety. Happy Reading!
Fluffy T rated:
—-
you're stuck in my head (stuck on my heart, stuck on my body) by notcaycepollard
(Teen, 5k)
Summary:
"You don't gotta hold my hand," Bucky says after a minute or two. "It's not like it hurts."
"Sure it does, asshole," Sam tells him, but he knows it comes out almost fond, and his hand is warm, and Bucky apparently leaves it at that.
When the artist goes over the edges of scar tissue, Bucky tightens his grip, and Sam doesn't say anything at all.
My thoughts:
This fic is just so adorable. I also have a forget me not flower tattoo that that fact just made this 100 times cuter. Would reccomend reading this on a lazy Sunday eating a warm cookie.
——
do i tell you i love you or not (cause i can't really guess what you want) by notcaycepollard
(Teen, 4K)
Summary:
Shampoo, he thinks. Conditioner.
The kind of hair that’s nice to touch, he hears Sam say again, and reaches for one of the bottles.
It’s different than soap. Smells nice, like fruit and flowers. The shampoo lathers up soft as clouds, washes away easy. Conditioner’s worse; he can’t tell when it’s fucking rinsed out, his hair feels weird. But he grabs the plastic comb - yes, thank you, Wilson, he does know what a goddamn comb is, he’s not a barbarian - and it slides through without catching, like all the knots are just gone. There could be benefits, he’s willing to admit.
My thoughts:
Ok so if you love Bucky’s hair as much as I think everyone does then you will appreciate this one. Also he wears his hair is a bun so if you needed more incentive to read it, there you go. What more could you want?
——
in your black heart (is where you'll find me) by notcaycepollard
(Teen, 2k)
Summary:
“Hey,” he tries, “hey darlin’, can you pass me the milk?”
“Oh sure,” Sam responds after a long pause. “Here you go. Sweetie.”
“Thanks, hon, you’re a real doll,” Bucky drawls, and pours himself another bowl of cereal, tops up his coffee, takes a mouthful of milk straight from the carton just for good measure. Sam narrows his eyes.
“That’s disgusting,” he sighs, and Bucky makes deliberate eye contact, swallows another mouthful. Sam holds his gaze. “Cupcake, come on, I gotta drink that shit, stop putting your mouth all over it.”
“I’ll put my mouth all over wherever I want,” Bucky tells him. “Sweetheart.”
“Will you just,” Sam mutters, and sips his black coffee like he’s totally unruffled, and Bucky is startled to discover that he’s the one who’s blushing. Shit. Maybe this was a tactical error.
My thoughts:
It has all my favourite things, pet names, banter and most importantly EVERYONE ASSUMING THEY ARE TOGETHER WHN THEY’RE NOT. Go read this and thank me later my dudes. Oh and lastly there is hair braiding.
——
M rated:
you're my river running high (run deep, run wild) by notcaycepollard
(Mature, 9k)
Summary:
The third day after SHIELD falls, Sam finds a crow with a broken wing on his doorstep.
My thoughts:
this trope is a classic and I will happily read 5000 slight different versions of this. This one is a little different than usual though. Super cute and just a little angsty.
———
The Lion Sleeps Tonight by prettylittlementirosa
(Mature,7k)
Summary:
Sam’s too cold to be embarrassed by how quickly he scrambles to get in there. It’s a tight fit, getting two grown men into one regular sized sleeping bag, but they make it work. Bucky shifts this way, Sam slithers that way. Bucky pulls Sam flush against his chest, Sam tries not to dwell on it. Bucky breathes hot air onto Sam’s exposed neck, Sam tucks his ice-cold toes in between Bucky’s legs. Bucky sighs contentedly, Sam wills his dick into submission.
(Or 5 times Sam and Bucky are forced to share a bed + 1 time they choose to.)
My thoughts:
This one is amazing, its deep while being funny at the same time. Also who doesn’t love a 5+1 fic with a liberal sprinkling of and there was only one bed!
——-
And now what I know some of you guys have been waiting for : THE SMUT
cancel all your reservations (no more hesitations) by notcaycepollard
(Explicit,15k)
Summary:
“You’re sending me on a two-man undercover,” Bucky says, helplessly, “staying in a vineyard retreat, alone, with Wilson.”
“Pack your swim trunks,” Daisy adds, “apparently it’s got a hot tub.”
Bucky looks at Sam. Sam looks back at Bucky. Sam’s arms are crossed over his chest, his forearms bare. Bucky carefully doesn’t look at Sam’s forearms, or the way his t-shirt is pulled tight over his shoulders, straining just a little at the seams. Bucky’s not looking at that at all. He makes eye contact, careful to keep his face neutral.
Sam’s eyes are soft and dark. Maybe a little amused. He has very long eyelashes.
Bucky swallows hard.
“Great,” he says. “That’s just— great.”
My thoughts:
Can you tell I love a there was only one bed trope yet? If not here’s another one, this time with an added fake relationship and a mission. And if that doesn’t convince you enough there is mutual pinning and dirty talk.
——
Marriage Counseling for the Inept and Oblivious by ToriCeratops
(Explicit, 6k)
Summary:
Or: How Steve Rogers likes to play matchmaker for his infuriating best friends.
My thoughts:
More fake relationships and bed sharing because I’m simple like that. This one doesn’t have a very long summary so let me give you the basics: Steve tells them to go on this mission to a marriage counselling camp and they reluctantly do, bad counselling, snooping around and sex in sketchy places is the result.
—-
you touch me within and so i (know i could be human once again) by notcaycepollard
(Explicit,12k)
Summary:
It’s inevitable, the way it goes. He’s my friend, Steve says, and he is, he is, he must be. Sam’s best friend is Steve, and Steve’s best friend is a werewolf, that’s just how Sam’s life works now.
But once he realizes he’s attracted to Bucky and Bucky can tell, everything becomes, like, a thousand percent more difficult to negotiate. Sam’s just trying to live his life, that’s all, and he keeps getting confronted by Bucky Barnes in a soft flannel shirt, sleeves rolled up, hair all soft and shiny. Bucky glances over at him and smirks, and this is really very embarrassing, how Sam can’t hide his attraction even if he keeps a totally straight face.
My thoughts:
Every ship needs a classic werewolf au, this one is slightly different though because its only Bucky that is a werewolf. This one has a smidge of dom/sub undertones so if you’re not into that maybe pick another one. This one consists of banter, pining and the perfect amount of slow burn.
——-
And that’s it for this mini fic rec list that was mainly just an accidental appriciation post to notcaycepollard. Remember if you read any of these to leave a kudos and a comment since authors really appreciate it! If any of the links don’t work or you have recs for me please shoot me a message. Happy reading!!
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yearsblog · 6 years
Link
“I’m glad you noticed!” says Olly Alexander with one of his impish smiles. “I’ve come a long way since then.” We’re talking about the difference between the first time I saw him sing with his band, Years & Years, and the strutting peacock that he has since become. In 2015, fresh from winning the BBC Sound Of . . . poll, Alexander had a mean falsetto and a clutch of killer synth-pop ditties (Shine, King), but he cut a diffident figure during his show at the Heaven nightclub, dressed down in a T-shirt and beanie.
The second time I saw him, a year later, he was rising on a hydraulic lift through the stage of a rapturous Wembley Arena, wearing a red tunic with silver shoulder pads, and garlanded with laser beams. Alexander’s ascent to serious, tabloid-baiting stardom continues. Years & Years have a dazzling album out this week and days before we meet he was on Graham Norton’s sofa, regaling Cate Blanchett and Sandra Bullock with the story of how Meteorite, the song he wrote for Bridget Jones’s Baby, was about “a big dick”. Diffident no longer.
“Looking back, it’s quite overwhelming,” says Alexander, 27, as he lunches on quinoa in a restaurant in King’s Cross, north London. He is slight and conspiratorial, with tiny safety pins through his ears, a ring through his nose and his cropped hair dyed scarlet. “At first you really don’t know what support from an audience is going to feel like. But when people started showing their support for me being honest and being a camp, gay frontman — I just never really expected it and it added so much fuel to my fire.”
Among the things he has eloquently spoken out on are LGBTQ rights (he presented a BBC Three documentary called Growing Up Gay), mental health (he extols the virtues of therapy, which he started pre-emptively, before he became famous) and bullying (at school in Gloucestershire he was regularly “bushed”: thrown into the bushes next to the assembly hall). He is far more vocal than he was at the start of his music career, when an industry person advised him not to talk about being gay. “She was, like, ‘Why do people need to know your sexuality?’ She wanted to protect me.”
Well, it turned out that he didn’t need protection, he needed confidence. That came with experience and a changing musical landscape in which artists as diverse as Janelle Monáe, Christine and the Queens, Frank Ocean and Perfume Genius felt able to be candid about their sexuality. “It’s quite astonishing,” Alexander says. “We’re seeing a lot more visible queer artists and visible gay people.”
Pop has been missing male stars with strong views, especially those with a sense of theatre; it’s all uber-polite George Ezra or anti-glamorous Ed Sheeran. “It has its place, having someone who’s not dressed up,” Alexander says, trying to be diplomatic. “But the thing I love most about pop music is the fantasy, the escapism. I had this moment when I realised I’m in the best place to engineer that for myself. I realised you could go as far as you want on stage.”
A few weeks ago at Radio 1’s Biggest Weekend in Swansea he wore a lime-green Freddie Mercury leotard and led an onstage conga of his dancers, who seemed to be styled as drugged-up zombies. It felt like a long way from Mike Read and Bruno Brookes. “There was a point where I realised if you embody supreme confidence, you can get away with anything,” Alexander says. “It is quite a religious experience for me, to be on stage.”
Religion is a bit of a theme for Years & Years, whose other members are the keyboard player Emre Türkmen and the bassist Mikey Goldsworthy. Their first album was called Communion and their new one is entitled Palo Santo, after a mystical South American tree burnt as incense. Its literal translation, “holy wood”, joins the dots between spiritualism and smut (“It’s a Carry On album!” Alexander says with a giggle). So too does the recent single, Sanctify, partly inspired by a relationship with a straight-acting man, which refers to two very different things that one can do on one’s knees. “See?” Alexander says, turning to his publicist, who is sitting near by. “Ed gets it!”
He has always been into spiritualism and the occult, he says, albeit in a slightly sceptical way. “The first place I ever had a job was in this shop called Moonstones — it sold gemstones, pagan spellbooks and chocolate dildos.” He grew up loving fairytales and fantasy fiction: Lord of the Rings, The Magic Faraway Tree, Harry Potter. You can see why he might have wanted to escape to other worlds, such was the rotten time he sometimes had at school, where he was mocked and sometimes “bushed” for wearing eyeliner, nail varnish and choker necklaces.
Has being a posterboy for LGBTQ and anti-bullying issues become a burden? He gets Instagram messages from fans every day. “It doesn’t feel like a burden. I think it would be more of a burden to not acknowledge any of that. But I’ve had to learn the ways to cope with my own mental health along the way, and I feel like I’m in a good position now, but if you’re having a bad day and you’re suddenly having to talk about things that you experienced when you were 13 years old, it can feel a bit challenging.”
He’s talking about the break-up of his mother, who ran community craft groups, from his father, who worked at amusement parks, but, tellingly, dreamt of being a musician. After the split Alexander moved to Gloucestershire with his mother and brother; his father has only been in contact sporadically. Alexander has sometimes shied away from the subject because “I was trying to protect him, and I was, like, ‘Why am I still trying to protect someone who hasn’t been in my life for over a decade and who’s actually very difficult and caused a lot of pain to my family?’ ”
They hadn’t been in touch for seven years when his father broke the silence in wincing fashion, by tweeting him. Matters got worse when Alexander’s fans started replying to his dad, even trolling him. It sounds horrific. He has seen him once since then, last year. “It was quite triggering,” he says. “I just couldn’t deal with it at the time, it was too overwhelming.”
Social media can be a perilous place for him, especially deciding what to keep private. “I’ve always been fairly ‘Here’s everything!’ ” He’s also prone to “stalking someone that I fancy, and then getting upset because they like so-and-so’s picture and not mine”.
Yet the lure of Instagram can be irresistible. Take his appearance on The Graham Norton Show, when he met Rihanna, one of his heroes, and posted a picture of them backstage, in which he wears an expression of volcanic ecstasy. He was more nervous about meeting Ri-Ri than he was about singing on the show, he says, but she was lovely. “She was, like, ‘My fans love you.’ I feel like we’re destined to be friends.”
Or, perhaps, rivals. Palo Santo, with its mega-hooks, shimmering melodies and sumptuous production, is an album built to take on the superstar Americans at their own game. It was inspired by the R&B and pop that Alexander grew up on: Timberland, Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and, before them, Prince and Michael Jackson.
He’s a better fit for music than he was for his first, slightly accidental career as an actor. “It just feels like people can express their identity easier as artists in the music industry.” Still, acting was where he initially made his mark, straight out of school, first in the film Summerhill and later playing a Bullingdon-style posho in The Riot Club, Herbert Pocket in David Nicholls’s TV adaptation of Great Expectations, and a stage role in Michael Grandage’s Peter and Alice, during which he befriended Judi Dench.
He was quite intimidated, but Dench turned out to be “very cheeky. One day she brought in biscuits that had dicks and balls on them; she was, like, ‘Do you want a cock biscuit?’ ” She has since narrated a short film to accompany Years & Years’s new album.
Acting has some happy associations for him, then, but “Hollywood is the worst culprit” when it comes to diversity, he says. “It’s just so far behind the times, it’s disgusting.” He even felt a subtle pressure not to reveal his sexuality on God Help the Girl, a low-budget British indie film directed by Stuart Murdoch of the band Belle & Sebastian, in which Alexander played a straight musician.
“It gave me a lot of anxiety. It was one of the reasons I wanted to stop acting. I definitely felt at the time it was something you had to be quiet about, because otherwise directors wouldn’t believe you could pull off the part.” That was nothing to do with Murdoch, he stresses. “I got on with Stuart really well, and I felt guilty because I never told him I was gay. I kind of tried to play up to the fact that I could actually be straight still, based on lies, even though everyone else knew I was gay.” During the shoot he met a man in a club. “After filming every day I’d just go straight to his house and spend the night with him. You just feel like you’re living a bit of a double life.”
I tell him my editor will tell me off if I don’t ask about his romantic status. “I’m single,” he replies with a smile. “Let everyone know, including your editor! Is he gay? It’s a she? Maybe she has gay friends. Yeah, I am happily single. It’s been like . . . almost two years. Not that I’ve been a nun in that time, I would like to stress.” Celebrity is double-sided in that regard: adulation on one hand, lack of anonymity on the other. “It obviously has positives,” he says with a smile, “but my sex life’s taken quite a beating.”
Don’t buy the mock self-pity — Alexander is doing just fine. There’s the stellar album and an arena tour in the autumn. Nor have his experiences put him off acting. “I feel like I could do something really, really fun and weird, like play an alien,” he says. “Or, you know, a goblin king!” From dressed-down diffidence to a budding Bowie in three years: he really has come a long way.
Palo Santo is released tomorrow on Polydor. Years & Years play the Roundhouse, London, July 10; Manchester Arena, July 14 and tour the UK from November
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ollyarchive · 6 years
Photo
Tumblr media
Years & Years’s Olly Alexander: ‘Celebrity has positives, but my sex life’s taken quite a beating’
Olly Alexander is Britain’s most exciting new pop star, but the Years & Years singer has also become a poster boy for social change
Ed Potton
July 5 2018, 12:01am, The Times
“I’m glad you noticed!” says Olly Alexander with one of his impish smiles. “I’ve come a long way since then.” We’re talking about the difference between the first time I saw him sing with his band, Years & Years, and the strutting peacock that he has since become. In 2015, fresh from winning the BBC Sound Of … poll, Alexander had a mean falsetto and a clutch of killer synth-pop ditties (Shine, King), but he cut a diffident figure during his show at the Heaven nightclub, dressed down in a T-shirt and beanie.
The second time I saw him, a year later, he was rising on a hydraulic lift through the stage of a rapturous Wembley Arena, wearing a red tunic with silver shoulder pads, and garlanded with laser beams. Alexander’s ascent to serious, tabloid-baiting stardom continues. Years & Years have a dazzling album out this week and days before we meet he was on Graham Norton’s sofa, regaling Cate Blanchett and Sandra Bullock with the story of how Meteorite, the song he wrote for Bridget Jones’s Baby, was about “a big dick”. Diffident no longer.
“Looking back, it’s quite overwhelming,” says Alexander, 27, as he lunches on quinoa in a restaurant in King’s Cross, north London. He is slight and conspiratorial, with tiny safety pins through his ears, a ring through his nose and his cropped hair dyed scarlet. “At first you really don’t know what support from an audience is going to feel like. But when people started showing their support for me being honest and being a camp, gay frontman — I just never really expected it and it added so much fuel to my fire.” Olly Alexander with Emre Türkmen and Mikey Goldsworthy of Years & Years Olly Alexander with Emre Türkmen and Mikey Goldsworthy of Years & Years
Among the things he has eloquently spoken out on are LGBTQ rights (he presented a BBC Three documentary called Growing Up Gay), mental health (he extols the virtues of therapy, which he started pre-emptively, before he became famous) and bullying (at school in Gloucestershire he was regularly “bushed”: thrown into the bushes next to the assembly hall). He is far more vocal than he was at the start of his music career, when an industry person advised him not to talk about being gay. “She was, like, ‘Why do people need to know your sexuality?’ She wanted to protect me.”
Well, it turned out that he didn’t need protection, he needed confidence. That came with experience and a changing musical landscape in which artists as diverse as Janelle Monáe, Christine and the Queens, Frank Ocean and Perfume Genius felt able to be candid about their sexuality. “It’s quite astonishing,” Alexander says. “We’re seeing a lot more visible queer artists and visible gay people.”
Pop has been missing male stars with strong views, especially those with a sense of theatre; it’s all uber-polite George Ezra or anti-glamorous Ed Sheeran. “It has its place, having someone who’s not dressed up,” Alexander says, trying to be diplomatic. “But the thing I love most about pop music is the fantasy, the escapism. I had this moment when I realised I’m in the best place to engineer that for myself. I realised you could go as far as you want on stage.”
A few weeks ago at Radio 1’s Biggest Weekend in Swansea he wore a lime-green Freddie Mercury leotard and led an onstage conga of his dancers, who seemed to be styled as drugged-up zombies. It felt like a long way from Mike Read and Bruno Brookes. “There was a point where I realised if you embody supreme confidence, you can get away with anything,” Alexander says. “It is quite a religious experience for me, to be on stage.” With Hannah Murray and Emily Browning in God Help the Girl With Hannah Murray and Emily Browning in God Help the Girl
Religion is a bit of a theme for Years & Years, whose other members are the keyboard player Emre Türkmen and the bassist Mikey Goldsworthy. Their first album was called Communion and their new one is entitled Palo Santo, after a mystical South American tree burnt as incense. Its literal translation, “holy wood”, joins the dots between spiritualism and smut (“It’s a Carry On album!” Alexander says with a giggle). So too does the recent single, Sanctify, partly inspired by a relationship with a straight-acting man, which refers to two very different things that one can do on one’s knees. “See?” Alexander says, turning to his publicist, who is sitting near by. “Ed gets it!”
He has always been into spiritualism and the occult, he says, albeit in a slightly sceptical way. “The first place I ever had a job was in this shop called Moonstones — it sold gemstones, pagan spellbooks and chocolate dildos.” He grew up loving fairytales and fantasy fiction: Lord of the Rings, The Magic Faraway Tree, Harry Potter. You can see why he might have wanted to escape to other worlds, such was the rotten time he sometimes had at school, where he was mocked and sometimes “bushed” for wearing eyeliner, nail varnish and choker necklaces.
Has being a posterboy for LGBTQ and anti-bullying issues become a burden? He gets Instagram messages from fans every day. “It doesn’t feel like a burden. I think it would be more of a burden to not acknowledge any of that. But I’ve had to learn the ways to cope with my own mental health along the way, and I feel like I’m in a good position now, but if you’re having a bad day and you’re suddenly having to talk about things that you experienced when you were 13 years old, it can feel a bit challenging.” Olly Alexander: “It’s quite a religious experience for me to be on stage” Olly Alexander: “It’s quite a religious experience for me to be on stage”
He’s talking about the break-up of his mother, who ran community craft groups, from his father, who worked at amusement parks, but, tellingly, dreamt of being a musician. After the split Alexander moved to Gloucestershire with his mother and brother; his father has only been in contact sporadically. Alexander has sometimes shied away from the subject because “I was trying to protect him, and I was, like, ‘Why am I still trying to protect someone who hasn’t been in my life for over a decade and who’s actually very difficult and caused a lot of pain to my family?’ ”
They hadn’t been in touch for seven years when his father broke the silence in wincing fashion, by tweeting him. Matters got worse when Alexander’s fans started replying to his dad, even trolling him. It sounds horrific. He has seen him once since then, last year. “It was quite triggering,” he says. “I just couldn’t deal with it at the time, it was too overwhelming.”
Social media can be a perilous place for him, especially deciding what to keep private. “I’ve always been fairly ‘Here’s everything!’ ” He’s also prone to “stalking someone that I fancy, and then getting upset because they like so-and-so’s picture and not mine”.
Yet the lure of Instagram can be irresistible. Take his appearance on The Graham Norton Show, when he met Rihanna, one of his heroes, and posted a picture of them backstage, in which he wears an expression of volcanic ecstasy. He was more nervous about meeting Ri-Ri than he was about singing on the show, he says, but she was lovely. “She was, like, ‘My fans love you.’ I feel like we’re destined to be friends.”
Or, perhaps, rivals. Palo Santo, with its mega-hooks, shimmering melodies and sumptuous production, is an album built to take on the superstar Americans at their own game. It was inspired by the R&B and pop that Alexander grew up on: Timberland, Britney Spears, Justin Timberlake and, before them, Prince and Michael Jackson.
He’s a better fit for music than he was for his first, slightly accidental career as an actor. “It just feels like people can express their identity easier as artists in the music industry.” Still, acting was where he initially made his mark, straight out of school, first in the film Summerhill and later playing a Bullingdon-style posho in The Riot Club, Herbert Pocket in David Nicholls’s TV adaptation of Great Expectations, and a stage role in Michael Grandage’s Peter and Alice, during which he befriended Judi Dench.
He was quite intimidated, but Dench turned out to be “very cheeky. One day she brought in biscuits that had dicks and balls on them; she was, like, ‘Do you want a cock biscuit?’ ” She has since narrated a short film to accompany Years & Years’s new album.
Acting has some happy associations for him, then, but “Hollywood is the worst culprit” when it comes to diversity, he says. “It’s just so far behind the times, it’s disgusting.” He even felt a subtle pressure not to reveal his sexuality on God Help the Girl, a low-budget British indie film directed by Stuart Murdoch of the band Belle & Sebastian, in which Alexander played a straight musician.
“It gave me a lot of anxiety. It was one of the reasons I wanted to stop acting. I definitely felt at the time it was something you had to be quiet about, because otherwise directors wouldn’t believe you could pull off the part.” That was nothing to do with Murdoch, he stresses. “I got on with Stuart really well, and I felt guilty because I never told him I was gay. I kind of tried to play up to the fact that I could actually be straight still, based on lies, even though everyone else knew I was gay.” During the shoot he met a man in a club. “After filming every day I’d just go straight to his house and spend the night with him. You just feel like you’re living a bit of a double life.”
I tell him my editor will tell me off if I don’t ask about his romantic status. “I’m single,” he replies with a smile. “Let everyone know, including your editor! Is he gay? It’s a she? Maybe she has gay friends. Yeah, I am happily single. It’s been like … almost two years. Not that I’ve been a nun in that time, I would like to stress.” Celebrity is double-sided in that regard: adulation on one hand, lack of anonymity on the other. “It obviously has positives,” he says with a smile, “but my sex life’s taken quite a beating.”
Don’t buy the mock self-pity — Alexander is doing just fine. There’s the stellar album and an arena tour in the autumn. Nor have his experiences put him off acting. “I feel like I could do something really, really fun and weird, like play an alien,” he says. “Or, you know, a goblin king!” From dressed-down diffidence to a budding Bowie in three years: he really has come a long way.
Palo Santo is released tomorrow on Polydor. Years & Years play the Roundhouse, London, July 10; Manchester Arena, July 14 and tour the UK from November
9 notes · View notes
mulder-isms · 7 years
Text
 New York - (Thorcid Fanfic)
A/N: Believe it or not I’m still here lmao so, this fic was heavily inspired by St. Vincent’s New York and THIS OUTFIT. I mean, we could write poetries about it.
It takes place a little before NYC Drag Con and Alotta makes her first appearence! 
Thank you for all of you that still read me for God knows why and feedback is always welcome! ❤︎
Ps: Smut alert 😜
*
Jamin spent a week having dreams about it.
After the proposal, his groom-to-be was swept away to the technicolor land and fake brick walls of AS3. Shane needed to hoard for clothes and be sure he got everything he wanted in the midst of fighting inner and questioning voices, that were rattled and louder with such a big event coming.
He didn’t want to make him even more worried with his own feelings about the subject. Jamin reached the point of his life that being overshadowed somehow by younger queens didn’t trigger him anymore. Especially one that he loved so much.
Damn, especially one that he planned to spent the rest of his life with.
The last time he saw Shane, their good-bye was rushed, they were at his doorway in Williamsburg, three minutes for the Uber to arrive, Kirk in the hall waiting for the elevator. Shane had sweaty palms and was biting what was left of his nails. Jamin took his hand from the mouth, before Shane started having them for dinner, and kissed his knuckles.
“You need to paint them black, so save these fingers for later” he reassured him and Shane smiled relieved for seconds before leaving.
*
People fleet quite easily from one’s memory.
Getting back to his old reclusive life was easy for Jamin. Since they started their relationship this was going to be their longest period apart, but dealing with the distance was not that hard anymore. But the uncertainty of their future after Shane would come back was slowly creeping.
Jamin wasn’t the one to be consumed by anything, even if it meant to come undone.  He taught himself how to stop emotional investments since a very young age. He was more than used to people leaving, disappointing him. It was a matter of survival, to low his expectations.
He could say he knew Shane. He felt safe with him.
He knew when he was lying to trick him, because there’s always a sort of hidden smirk in the corner of his mouth. He knew all the signs and freckles along his long body and moods of his hair. Each hairdo meant a different feeling. His favorite was when was too lazy to care how messy the dreads were, just sorta tying up some of them loosely.
But would he know post All Stars Shane?
A big change was coming, but he tried blocking the anxiety. There was nothing to do but wait. So he did what he was the best. Worked his ass off. New design projects, new outfits, new merch. Everything he could put his crafty hands and mind on.
After filming, Shane come back home, and promised to tell him everything about the All Stars experience when he was ready, and Jamin didn’t want to pressure him at all. He didn’t want to be with Thorgy, he missed Shane.
His busy boyfriend spent three days in Brooklyn and then he was in Montauk with his family. Jamin knew how being with his folks eased his mind, and he was going to join them but he had so much work to do, so he thought it was for the best. The beach was lovely and the weather wasn’t too hot. Shane would come back probably still smelling like sunscreen and margaritas and he would sleep nuzzling his sunburnt neck.
He was in bed eating pizza when Shane texted him to have a quick Skype session. When Shane’s face appeared on the screen, his nose was pitched rose, the green of his eyes popping like emeralds. His arms were half tanned and half pale.
“What?” Shane asked with the gaze of his boyfriend on him and checking himself, fixing his dreads that were quite frizzled. “I know, I look like a hippie that sells necklaces made out of seeds by the beach”
“You do. God, I miss you. New York, isn’t New York without you, love...” he replied putting the pizza down and smiling.
Shane was slowly blending in his musical taste to Acid’s. He spent three days listening to St. Vincent’s new single and it stuck on Jamin’s mind. The bright primary colors of the video and the lyrics could be their constant state of mind.
“Someone’s been listening to my ipod.” he smiled proud at himself and then realized how sweet that was. “Tomorrow” he reassured Jamin hugging his legs and caressing the screen like a pet. He seemed to be on the kitchen and there were people talking around him. “Save a piece for me. You know how I like them cold. This is my niece’s laptop. Can you believe she knows how to use the internet? When this happened?”
“Ask her to teach you then”
“Fuck y-” he covered his mouth with a big ooops expression and cackled. You are never old enough to curse in front of your family.
They didn’t last too much longer on the conversation. They had all the time in the world tomorrow.
*
One of the big changes in Jamin’s life after Drag Race was coming back to Brooklyn. Really coming back to Brooklyn night and being accepted with the girls. Alotta was one that he got closer. He was loud, honest, knew everything about video games and sports and and had a huge collection of BDSM clothing.
Jamin was working with Alotta to make the Brooklyn corner in Drag Con really special, and they were running the whole week with costumes, pins, stickers, t-shirts  and everything to make their booths nice. It was late at night and he was finishing the tail of his new dress, a sort of fashionable monster, with plastic thorns coming out everywhere.
Alotta was there because Jamin was going to fix some details of her outfit. It was late at night and Shane was going to pick up gloves for Ragga that she ordered. Shane was also running out of time to pull everything together.
Jamin’s dress was on the mannequin as he analyzed if the length of the tail was right, measuring tape around his neck, scissors in one hand.
“So this will be my first day look!”
Alotta entered the living room wearing a jockstrap, football shoulder pads and a mask that covered his whole face covered with plastic sticks. Jamin quickly glanced at his friend body, dominic was typically his type. Hot but a little rough around the edges. It felt like ages ago, before Shane becoming all he desired.
“Isn’t this your everyday look though, bitch” Jamin teased him drawing his attention back to the dress.
“It’s NYC drag con, I need to show quintessential Alotta too”
They heard the lock opening and Shane was there in seconds, leather bag in one shoulder, a zebra printed shirt on, wearing baggy shorts and toms. He was taken by surprised with the vision of Alotta semi-naked so close to Jamin probably.
“Um, hi” he replied smiling softly and widening his eyes a bit hesitating.
“I was showing Acid my first day look” Alotta whirled again, his bare hairy ass looking fabulous with the strap on.
“You use this to go to the grocery store though” Shane answered putting his bag on the table and looking at Jamin’s dress. “This is fucking incredible”
“That’s what I said!” Jamin asserted pointing to Shane. And Shane kissed Jamin on the cheek, which was quite atypical for him. “Hi” he answered his display of affection full of curiosity.
“Shit, I’m leaving. You guys want to fuck and chill, right?” Alotta noticed that and was quickly grabbing his things. Jamin and Shane exchanged embarrassed looks. Everybody that was close enough to them already knew but it was process to getting used to it. “Thorgina, are you coming tomorrow for Beckie’s friend bachelorette party? Acid is going to be my driver. It’s in a fucking mansion in Manhattan, the money is insane. ”
“Pass. I still have shit to do before Drag Con. I have this Marc Jacobs event with a bunch of models for his new perfume at the Plaza…” Alotta raised his brows impressed but Jamin was  still concentrated on the dress.
“Take that All Star gig, honey!”  Alotta teased with his ass up in the air as he picked up his shoes from the floor. Jamin winced with the vision holding a laughter, Shane was still suspicious.
“ And girl, please.I’m not staying in.” he replied tapping Jamin’s arm. “The gloves?”
“So I’m going with you!” Alotta had the idea and somehow Shane looked more relieved, but he shrugged in agreement pretending disinterest. Jamin was finding amusing how transparent was Shane’s jealousy about Alotta’s presence. It was not visible for not trained eyes, but he learned to track down all his body language.
“ Ragga is waiting for me in the car so hurry up” he rushed clapping hands.
“The gloves are on my bed” Jamin replied getting back to work, inserting a pin in the waist of the dress.
Shane got into his room, analysing it real quickly, as if he was going to find evidence of the crime. Jamin’s bed was made. Alotta handed him a jockstrap and winked. He was disgusted holding it like it was dirty.
“Bitch, this is new! Acid says she won’t use it, but that ass and that jewish cock need to be displayed in a jockstrap”
Shane softly chuckled shaking his head, but he put it in his bag anyways.
*
The party and the place was Gatsby luxurious. The mansion didn’t look like it belonged to New York, with the glass walls, high ceilings and flamboyant decorations. The bride and her friends were wearing gloves that Beckie have made for them. Jamin was the only man there but the bartenders that were all the typical gogo-boy types, he even knew one that used to work at the Ritz. It started very early as a pool party, so he got drunk as fast as he could so when Alotta was ready to leave he was sober enough to drive.
Alotta had already performed and he was sitting on the bar stool checking his messages, he was staying in Shane’s tonight but he had no idea when the Marc Jacobs was going to end and Kirk was probably sleeping there too. Jamin was definitely still a little bit drunk when one of the girls from the party sit by his side.
She was wearing a beautiful rosé dress completely beaded in crystals that were matching the beige gloves that were also stoned. She was pale with a long black hair and didn’t seem to have not even twenty-five years old, and too much money and time in her hands probably.
“Hi” she said leaning in with her drink to Jamin’s side. He was so not in the mood to make conversation but he wasn’t going to be an asshole.
“Amazing party, right? Cecile told me your sister made these gloves, these are like, so good” she caressed her forearms. She was completely fried, and leaning in too close to him.
“Yes, I’m glad you girls liked it” he replied softly laughing politely and taking a sip of his drink.
“Oh, by the way, I’m Claire!” she grabbed his leg and spoke to his ear although he could perfectly listen to her from a normal distance.
“I- I’m Jamin.” he replied pulling back as discreet as possible. He looked over her shoulder checking if the group of girls that she was hanging with was missing her. “Um, I like your dress. You look beautiful”
She looked down at her body as if she was aware of what she was wearing the first time and smiled all proud of herself. And then as if she woke up from her lethargic state she was pulling Jamin by the neck for a kiss. The girl’s tongue invaded his mouth, he couldn’t even think to open it and she was pulling him by his sweater.
“I was checking you out the whole night...I’m so sure these bartenders are all gay and I need some real dick, and not lollipop ones…I love older men” she whispered kissing his neck and her hands were all inside his shirt.
Jamin was stopping her slowly and the bartender was looking at them holding a laughter.
“Claire...Claire…” he was grabbing her by the wrist and pulling back, she was petite but very eager to climb him like a tree.
“I know, let’s go to the bathroom” she replied trying to pull him by the shirt and he stopped being so nice and grab both of her hands down in a more firm way. But that seem to make her even more horny.
“Girl, calm the fuck down. Look, I’m gay”
She immediately stopped and pulled back.
“Oh”
And the naughty smile from her face fade away, she looked at the bartender behind them and he nodded his head in confirmation. Straight rich girls probably never heard of Acid Betty or Drag Race.
“I feel so stupid…” she said laughing and covering her face but finally understanding why that man was rejecting her. “It’s just that you, you didn’t seem gay at all” she honestly put it.
Jamin was wearing jeans and a black sweater and his stubble was quite thick but he was pretty sure his gayness could be seen from a mile, so he was lowkey offended.
“Sorry” she said still rubbing her face, and she fixed Jamin’s sweater that she pulled too hard “If you change your mind…” and then she wrote her number in a napkin and put it in his pocket. Jamin was impressed with her audacity.
“Yep, still full homo and I have a boyfriend” he replied and she shrugged leaving them as Alotta was joining them, out of drag and backpack on her shoulder. She peered at Jamin with smeared lipstick all over his face and the bartender. “Girl, don’t even ask…”
*
Alotta was making fun of straight Jamin the whole ride back home. He dropped his friend at his place and Jamin was unsure if he should tell Shane about it. Alotta said he would laugh his ass off but “Thorgy is weird. When she gets mad she turns into Dexter and will cut you into pieces”
That wasn’t very reassuring. During the whole year Jamin managed to dodge all the bullets of men hitting on him and he ended up with a girl’s tongue in his mouth.
“You might wanna clean that” Alotta reminded him leaning on the window of the car and Jamin pulled the driver’s mirror to clean the lipstick traces .
*
When Jamin got into Shane’s apartment it wasn’t not even 1 a.m. He heard Kirk’s voice from the hallway so she was probably sleeping in. She opened the door eating what it seemed to be macarons.
“We brought a ton of sweets from the hotel” she replied raising her brows.
“Where is Thorgy?” he asked looking around the apartment.
“In the bedroom unpacking”
“Can I pass as straight?” he asked what he was dying to know. The tall redhead cackled out loud in full scoff. “That was the answer I wanted, thank you”
He entered the room and Thorgy was coming back. Jamin was struck by how beautiful she looked, wearing an embodied robe with flowers, a dark and rich red velvet leotard under it. She was blonde with a  vintage black headpiece.
“You’re early” Thorgy noticed picking up three truffles from a goodie bag on the table and stuffing in his mouth.
“You...you, look amazing” he stuttered still impressed and Kirk bumped shoulders with him.
“I know. Sometimes we forget this clown is a beautiful woman”
Thorgy rolled his eyes eating a pizza very much like Shane.
“People are losing their minds on IG about it.” she shrugged as if she didn’t care licking the fingers.
“Well, they should” Jamin confirmed again pointing at all her body. Her obscene long and toned legs looking like a million bucks in the red pumps.
Kirk noticed how smitten was Jamin and got the cue that three was too much for the night. She picked up her bag and her goodie bag and another Marc Jacobs bag with the new fragrance.
“Yeaaah, I’m leaving”
“You’re not sleeping in, today?” Thorgy asked sitting on the kitchen’s table putting her legs on it, the robe’s tail on the floor.
“Nah” and then she exchanged Jamin glances with Jamin that cleared this throat and threw his backpack on the couch.
Kirk left and Jamin joined Thorgy on the tiny kitchen’s table. Billie Holiday was playing on the tv from the living room. He picked up Thorgy’s legs from the table, while she was eating her third macaron, removed her red pumps and put them on his lap and started to massage her toes and the palm of the feet, making Thorgy let go a soft moan. There was a small rip on the left leg of the fishnet tights, that made Acid trow her judging eyes. Her green eyes were sparkling under the heavy eye liner as they wandered through the dirty dishes on the sink.
“So, was Alotta often half naked in your apartment while I was away?” she asked what was hanging in the air since she laid her eyes on that vision. She was playing with the candy wraps and stopped to her arms in front of her chest as a good inquisitor.
“I knew you were were weird about it” he softly chuckled rubbing his thumb on the bridge of Thorgy’s feet. “Girl, are you really jealous of Alotta? Really?”
“I’m not jealous” she cut him immediately raising the pointer finger. “I just don’t think it’s appropriate. Dominic doesn't think it’s a problem if he sleeps with you, or anyone’s else boyfriend. She actually hooked up with many dates of mine while I was still with them, and then she was like “Sorry girl, I thought you were just fooling around”, she rested her case making an impression of Alotta’s deep voice. “Look, I love her, okay? We’ve known each other since forever and we have each other’s back, I was just a little bit startled like having a deja vu….”
Jamin was listening to Thorgy quite surprised while still rubbing her feet. When she was in this monologue state the best thing to do is always to let her go all the way.
“And he is completely your type” she addressed rubbing her forehead, her beautiful nordic profile enhanced by the cheekbones make-up.
“You are my type. Now. That’s all that matters” Jamin reassured him caressing her legs, his hands rising up, but Thorgy wasn’t buying.
“You know what I mean…” she rolled eyes impatiently shifting in her chair. “I’m not exactly anybody’s concept of trade. And everyone wants to fuck you”
Jamin cleared his throat and Shane noticed something strange. She investigated his face for few seconds.
“What?”
Jamin pulled Thorgy’s legs closer to him so he could massage the muscle of her thighs. She was still waiting for the answer hanging in the air.
“First, I don’t know what you mean. You are a fucking handsome man and if you can’t see that I’m here to remind you, even if you roll your eyes every time. And second, a girl kissed me at the party tonight. And I kissed her back since there was no choice since her tongue was popping out like that scene from Alien”
Thorgy had a funny expression of whaaaaat in her face, she even tried to say something but stopped midway stuttering.
“I was at the bar getting my ass drunk while Alotta was doing her thing and apparently, Claire, had eyes on me the whole evening. She really thought I was straight???”
Thorgy laughed so hard she almost fell from the chair.
“Oh god...she knew your sister made the gayest gloves and...oh my god, I’ve been living a lie. All that anal...you were thinking about pussy the whole time!”
Jamin started laughing too and his cheeks were burning, quite relieved. When the laughter was fading away Thorgy was getting in the mood of the languid jazz music playing in the background, so she stood up and straddled Jamin. She stared him in the face and noticed the faint traces of lipstick on his face, and grinded on the fly of his jeans putting his arms around him.
“So what did you think about her kiss?” Thorgy asked shimming her shoulder and biting her lips.
“Ahem, I’ve kissed better girls” he dismissed never leaving her eyes.
Thorgy leaned to kiss Jamin wrapping his head, the long sleeves of the robe covering completely. She was a great kisser, she would go slow first and then fast the pace, moving her head and letting her tongue explore pushing in and out, sucking on his lower lip, gently nibbling on his piercing.
When she let him go for air she was very proud of that the only lipstick on Jamin’s face was hers.
“Sit on the couch” Thorgy asked in a sultry tone straddling out of Jamin.
He sat waiting in anticipation, removing his sweating and keeping only the gray shirt he had under it. The song that was playing was “You go to my head” in Ella’s nostalgic voice and ironically fitting. Thorgy dropped, taking a seat between his knees, and her hand reached down and cupped Jamin through the heavy fabric of his  jeans. He was fighting the urge to get hard the minute he entered the apartment and saw her like that.
She kissed him once again passing roughly her cleavage against his chest. Jamin panted heavily into her mouth, his breath heavy with desire. Jamin tried to kiss her gently, but Thorgy kissed him back with force, sliding her tongue into his mouth and nipping at his lips.
“Is my mouth better?” Thorgy teased into his mouth.
“The best....but I need you to remind me....” he managed to say between deep, breath-taking kisses.
Thorgy tugged his jeans and briefs down finally letting his erection free. She started moving her hands over Jamin’s bare thighs, only inches away from his crotch. She spread his legs wider and lowered her head  planting kisses in his inner thigh.
“Does this ring a bell?” she teased getting closer and closer to his cock. Jamin couldn’t get out more than a grunt, as Thorgy wrapped her fingers around his length and started jacking him off slowly.
Thorgy let the tip of her tongue dart out of her mouth and slowly, tracing a path from the base to the tip of his erection, her headpiece almost tickling Jamin’s belly.
"Oh, fuck, Thorg!” Jamin knew she wasn't’ kidding when she took the head in her mouth while her hands went back to kneading his thighs. Thorgy, musical as she was was, hummed around his length and took him in deeper, holding Jamin’s gaze, looking him directly in the eye.
“Oh, that feels so good” Jamin was whispered melting on the back on the couch, her long earrings brushing lightly his crotch.
Thorgy stopped for a moment and giggled proudly, and removed her earrings throwing them aside. Then she roughly spread his legs further apart, in this position Thorgy had good access to his balls so she put one of them into her mouth. Jamin started to pant, as she tenderly licked the most sensitive parts.
Jamin couldn’t grab her head because of the wig so he gently massaged her shoulder, savoring her approving soft moans at the attention. With his entire sack in her hand now, Thorgy deep-throated him up to the root of his cock.
"Jesus, Sh-sh!” He didn’t seem capable of saying much else and Thorgy liked it, a lot.
Thorgy was drenching him with her saliva, letting her tongue stroke the sensitive underside of his dick, feeling the muscles tighten even more in her mouth. Jamin was sure he didn’t need any more stimulation, but Thorgy still started to suck him off hard while her hands slipped underneath him to squeeze his ass. Jamin gasped as Thorgy left the tip of his cock with a smacking sound.
“In my mouth, okay?” he winked wickedly. “This robe was too expensive to be baptized so soon”
God, he was going to stay with that man forever.
As Thorgy took him in again, Jamin started to buck his hips and squeezed Thorgy’s shoulder harder, caressing her neck with the other hand. She swirled her tongue wildly around the head of his cock, and started swallowing around him when he hit the back of her throat, driving Jamin mad with desire. A shiny layer of sweat appeared on his skin while he was groaning and moaning loudly. He didn’t believe it was possible, but his pleasure increased as Thorgy began sucking with more strength.
"Thorg...I’m gonna...” he tried to warn using his last drop of self-control.
Thorgy sucked in her cheeks with all her might as the strength of Jamin’s grip on her neck became too much. Her nose, the only oxygen source, was buried in Jamin’s lap, thighs pressed against the sides of Thorgy’s face as her fake eyelashes brushed against his pubic hair.
Jamin’s groans became louder and louder, and his breathing started sounding desperate.
“Oh! Fuuuck!”
Thorgy felt the intense rush of hot come inside her mouth, her throat coated in Jamin’s desire for her. With this in mind, she kept sucking him dry, loving every second of him. After the contractions faded, he became flaccid in her mouth, but she lovingly kept on going and licking up every drop of him. Thorgy looked up at him and he smiled with the most innocent face, as if she wasn’t sinning minutes ago.
“The best” Jamin smiled back still panting and drinking in all the pleasure waves.
She was up again, and Jamin sat straight to rub her knees that were pretty red even with the thighs covering them and kissed her hips.
“I need to be free of this tuck right NOW” she hugged his head quickly and ran to the bathroom.
*
Jamin took a shower in Alvy’s bathroom while Shane was getting rid off Thorgy’s clothes in his bedroom. He was faster than Shane, that was toking  a long shower probably to rest his limbs. Jamin brought some candies to the bedroom and a piece of pudding that was on the fridge and didn’t seem too old. Something cold, but not too cold for Shane’s throat. He was probably sore as hell.
He was watching TV and eating the a chocolate truffle when Shane came out of the bathroom only with a towel wrapped around on the waist. He loved when Thorgy would get dirty with him, for sure, but nothing turned him on the most like the vision of post shower Shane, all fresh, his pale skin sill reddish. Jamin was pushing forty this year, and he couldn’t believe how much stamina he still had. Maybe even more that when he was younger, and he was getting hard again.
“Okay, I’m going to show you something, but don’t laugh” Shane warned him still clentching on the tip of the towel.
“I’m definitely not laughing” he replied feeling his cock twitching back to life in his pajamas shorts.
Shane dropped the towel and he was wearing a jockstrap. He turned around quite shyly, but his lean body looked really good in it. Shane’s ass was irresistible, small, but round, enhanced by the black straps.
“This is so not me” he replied checking himself wincing and laughing nervously.
Jamin pulled him to bed and they started to making out again. Few minutes later Shane was getting fucked doggystyle while Jamin pulled his hair back like a leash. He left his big mirror in the room while he was dressing up before going to the plaza. Jamin asked him to watch himself in the mirror while he was thrusting him from behind, whispering how hot he was, and how much he loved him, and he smiled in pleasure biting his lower lip, surrendering completely to the moment.
*
Jamin analysed the finished dress proudly in the mannequin.
He loved Drag Con. Electronic music was blasting in the living room. He looked over his phone on the table ringing with Shane’s message.
“Alvy wants to kill me, half of my merch prints are defective and they only noticed now so I need them replaced by tomorrow, and my jumper is still not ready. You're the only motherfucker in the city who can stand me…”
Jamin texted him back making sure that everything would be sort it out. That song resonating again. The first Drag Con at home, New York wouldn’t fail them.
15 notes · View notes
femslashy · 7 years
Text
undisclosed desires
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length: 2k
genre(s): smut
triggers/warnings: none 
simon follows baz into the woods and finds more than he bargained for
a/n: bless @cherryonsimon for wading through this incoherent mess x.x (also readmores don’t seem to work on mobile but if you click my url it should take you to the post ^__^)
for day 7 of @snowbaz-feda!!
Simon
This is all Baz’s fault. If he hadn’t decided to sneak out of our room and into the Wavering Wood right before the drawbridge went up for the night, I wouldn’t be stuck out here with him. Well, not with him. Behind him. Far behind him. But not too far that I can’t tell what he’s up too. Except...except I can’t see him anymore.
I think I’m lost.
This is all Baz’s fault.
Baz
Snow must be delusional if he thinks I can’t tell he followed me. From the unmistakable swish of his sword as he cuts through the branches, to his heavy clomp, I can hear him coming from miles away. I make sure my path is full of twists and turns, until I can’t hear anything behind me. Then I go searching for something to drink.
There’s a large buck visible through the trees and I cast quiet as a mouse on myself. He doesn’t hear me coming until it’s too late and I’m sinking my fangs into his proud neck. There’s always that pang of regret that comes seconds before I bite, the knowledge that I’m stealing the life away from an animal. But, then again, doesn’t everyone? Is my drinking this deer’s blood really any different than someone eating a burger?
I take my time draining the creature, enjoying every drop. I haven’t been able to feed like this since returning to Watford and I notice the difference almost instantly. I feel stronger, healthier; like maybe I can take on whatever’s coming for me this year.
I drop the carcass to the ground, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth.
And that’s when I hear him.
Simon
He’s doing it! Baz is drinking blood! Baz is a vampire! I knew it!
Baz
Oh, fuck.
Simon
I don’t know what to do. Do I tell him? Crash through the bushes and attack him? Kill him, like I’m supposed to? I bet no one would care, not once they knew what he was. I could claim it was self-defense, that he’d tried to bite me.
It’s the perfect plan.
Baz
Snow saw me feeding. He has actual proof that I’m a vampire, even if it’s just his word. After all, who would believe me--the son of Natasha Grimm-Pitch--over the chosen one? It’s just the excuse the Mage needs to move against the old families. If anyone found out that my family knew I was a vampire and left me alive…
I can’t afford to think about that right now. Not with Snow right here, sword drawn and a triumphant look on his face.
“What do you want?” I snap before he has a chance to say anything. He blinks, like he doesn’t actually know, and lowers his sword. I wasn’t expecting that.
Simon
I don’t know why I do it. I have the perfect advantage over Baz, but I lower my defenses instead. He’s a vampire. A vampire who’s just fed. Doesn’t that make him super powerful right now? Would I even be able to take him on? Do I even want to?
Then I remember I’m mad at him.
“You got us locked out of the castle!”
Baz
“I got you locked out? Circe, Snow, you’d be curled up in bed right now if you’d just learned to leave me the hell alone.” I snap.
“I had to know what you were up to! Besides, why do you care? It’s not like you haven’t done this to me before!”
I stop walking. “Excuse me?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know!” he shouts, “it was that time you forged the note from Agatha in sixth year! I was out all night in the cold and I nearly froze to death.”
Merlin, I had no idea. “That wasn’t me, Snow,” I say, “I stopped doing that shit to you after fifth year.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m really not.”
He doesn’t seem satisfied with that answer, but at least he shuts up about it and switches to a new topic of concern, “where are we going to sleep tonight?”
“There’s a cabin out here, where the old caretaker lived,” I say, and he looks confused. I sigh. “Before your bloody Mage came along, my mother took pride in the grounds and had someone who wasn’t a goat manage their care. And his cabin isn’t very far.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “How do you know this?”
“I just remember visiting him when I was a child, okay?” I reply defensively. I don’t feel like dredging up memories of my mother tonight. I refuse to make myself vulnerable in front of Snow. My answer seems to placate him and he just nods.
We walk in silence for a while, until the cabin comes into view. I grab Snow’s arm. He jumps, but stills when he sees it’s just me.
When we approach the cabin, I’m surprised to find that the door isn’t locked and it’s unexpectedly tidy inside. But...there’s only one bed.
“You can have that,” I tell Snow, pointing to it.
He narrows his eyes. “Why are you being nice to me?”
“I’m not.” I insist.
“Yes you are.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you--”
“Simon.” I say sharply, interrupting him.
“Ha! You called me Simon!”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did, just now.”
“Shut up, Snow.”
“Not until you tell me why you’re being nice.”
“I’m not being--fine, do you really want to know why? It’s because I’m fucking terrified you’re going to tell someone! And I figured that if maybe I was nice to you, it might make you reconsider!” I’m yelling now, but Snow looks unfazed.
“Reconsider what?”
“Telling the Mage I’m a vampire!”
“Baz, I’ve been telling the Mage you were a vampire for years and he’s never done anything about it. Besides, I don’t care,” he says with a shrug.
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
“You are, there’s no way--”
Simon
I don’t know why I decide to do it, but I want to--need to--prove to him that it’s okay. That I really don’t care. So I kiss him.
Baz
I’m so surprised that I stumble, almost falling forward. Snow catches me and, before I can process what’s happening, shoves me into the wall.
Is this a good kiss? I can’t tell. He’s doing this nice thing with his chin that’s making me weak in the knees. We’re kissing and kissing, until he slots his knee between my legs and I stop.
“What are you doing?”
“Is this--” he sounds hesitant, “is this okay?
I nod shakily. I can’t quite believe what’s happening. Simon Snow is holding me against a wall, and attempting to snog me within an inch of my life. Merlin. I’m so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that I almost don’t notice Snow taking me by my shoulders and walking me over to the bed. He splays both of his hands on my chest, pushing me down gently, like I’m something that might break. Crowley, I shouldn’t be turned on by that, but the delicate way he’s dragging his fingers down my stomach is making me shiver, and I bite my lip to hold back a potentially embarrassing whimper. Snow would never let me live that down. Then again, he might not let me live this down either.
The whimper makes its dreadful escape when he slips those fingers underneath the hem of my shirt and rucks it up to my armpits. Then his hands are everywhere, tugging at my trousers and shirt and his own pyjamas until we’re both in our pants. I’ve never felt more exposed. Or more turned on.
Snow’s hands are warm on my abdomen and I feel that same warmth starting to gather in my groin. I thank every powerful mage I can think of for the fact that I’d just drained a whole deer, otherwise this encounter might have been a lot less satisfying for the both of us.
Simon
Baz is writhing underneath me, his back almost arching off the mattress. I grind against him, pressing his hips back down and pinning him there as I tangle my hands in his hair and kiss him harder. He moans into my mouth and I tilt my head, taking the opportunity to explore his mouth with my tongue. It’s cold, and I know I’m taking a risk with his fangs and all, but, as Baz’s dick brushes mine, every worry seems to leave my mind and the only thing that matters is getting off. And getting Baz off. And the feeling of Baz moving against me, like every fantasy I didn’t even know I’d had.
Baz
I’ve never felt anything like this before. The more Snow rubs his dick on mine, the more I’m convinced this is all a dream. In what universe would Simon Snow--The Chosen One--be grinding on top of me while lying on a dirty metal bed in an abandoned cabin. There’s just no way. I close my eyes and try to enjoy this fantasy as much as I can, when I feel Snow sink his teeth into my neck.
The sharp spike of pain manages to convince me that what’s happening right now is indeed very real and that I’m about to come embarrassingly fast. Snow is sucking on my neck now and I feel him shuddering against me. The knowledge that he’s going to finish just as quickly is reassuring and I let myself go.
Simon
Baz comes right after I do, panting and gasping and gripping my shoulders so hard I’m sure he’s left bruises. I can feel his dick pulsing against mine and if I hadn’t just come the feeling would probably make me hard again. We stare at each other until the room is no longer filled with the combined sound of our heavy breathing and, once my head is clear enough, I try and magick the mess between us away without my wand. Of course it doesn’t work, but both of our wands are across the room and I don’t trust my legs to work.
The reality of what we just did is starting to hit me and I’m almost surprised to realize that I don’t mind. I’m happy about it. I just kissed and touched and came with my roommate who’s also supposed to be my mortal enemy and it was bloody fantastic. More than fantastic, even. It’s brilliant. It’s brilliant and wonderful and Baz is so fit and I want to do it again.
Baz
I feel like every bone in my body has turned to jelly and it’s all Snow’s fault. He must have done something to me, some of his freaky wandless magic, because I’ve never come that hard in my life. I didn’t know I could to be perfectly honest. (That hard, I mean.) I’m exhausted, like I’ve just run a marathon. Snow is looking down at me with a big, dopey grin.
“Was that good?”
I roll my eyes. “I feel disgusting.”
He snorts, and climbs off me, returning with his wand and casting clean up, clean up over the both of us. Then he climbs back onto the bed and lies down next to me. It’s much too narrow for the two of us, but he wraps his arms around me and I manage to fall asleep anyway.
* * *
Baz
When I open my eyes again, the sun has risen. Simon’s still holding me. I kick his ankle and he doesn’t react, so I do it again. Harder. He grunts sleepily, eyes still closed.
“Snow,” I hiss, “Wake up.” The bridge will be down again and we need to get back to the castle before anyone notices we’re gone. I also haven’t done my elocution homework and was hoping to finish it at breakfast. Something tells me we won’t even make breakfast.
“Snow!” I say, louder this time, “wake up!”
He pulls me closer to his body, mumbling something incoherent as he presses himself against my back. His crotch brushes my arse and I can feel that he’s hard again. He rolls his hips forward, and suddenly things like homework and breakfast don’t seem important. He’s thrusting forward now, his cock as hard as mine, and I groan as his hand clumsily slips between my legs.
Aleister Crowley, I’m living a charmed life.
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