#I've been sitting on the one of Greg for a while I didn't like it at first

[squibblefall]

Regretevator character redesigns I did. uhh if you've seen me posting the Gnarpy one in the suggestions forum/thread..hi

(Gnarpy 1st, Gregoriah 2nd)

#tried to give my own bit of character to them #I've been sitting on the one of Greg for a while I didn't like it at first #planning to tweak these when the official gnarp redesign comes out into characters for my story/facility Dramcorp #digital art #art #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #illustration #drawing #furry art #safe fur work #roblox #regretevator #gnarpy

[bvckleyydiaz]

smut ahead! 18+ ONLY, MDNI

okay, so... making out with aaron on the couch in his office.

this is how i imagine it going down:

you and aaron have been dating for a while by now, but you haven't told the rest of the team because you wanted to have something to yourselves. so, you're staying late one night to finish some paperwork, and you look at him from across his office at your place from his couch.

you're struggling one of the things on the report, so you ask him to help you. "honey, will you look at this report for me and make sure i did it right? i don't think i did."

he nods and tells you "of course i'll help you, my love." 🤧🤧🤧 so precious.

he comes over to the couch and sits close to you to read what you wrote for your report. but when he sits next to you, you set the report down. he looks at you all confused and he's like "didn't you need me to help you with that?"

you just smirk and say, "nope."

you then climb into his lap, straddle him with both of your knees on either side of his hips, and kiss him. aaron's surprised by this, but you were kissing him. his brain is fried. that man is not going to focus on anything else.

so, you guys are kissing, and it's getting heated. your hands in his hair and his hands all over you (he especially loves your ass). he tries keeping himself calm while he's kissing you, but you're not really helping the situation by grinding down onto him. 😋

so, it isn't long before you're both horny, moaning messes.

"i've always wanted to ride you on this couch," you whisper to him.

so that's exactly what you do. you ride your sexy old man within an inch of his life.

(the next morning, aaron walks through the bullpen to get to his office and derek whistles at him, smirking.

"never pegged you to be an exhibitionist, hotch," he says.

aaron's confused. "what do you mean?"

emily pipes up from next to derek, a matching smirk. "your blinds were open. the cameras saw everything."

aaron's response of a red face sends the two of them into fits of laughter.)

tagging: @greg-montgomery @montyfandomlove @ssamorganhotchner @hotchstanaccount @hotchnerobsessed @ssahotchnerr @ihavemanyhusbands @luvehotch @criminalskies @hotchsdoormat @darlingsfandom @moonlightspencie @hotchandspencearedilfs @ssaspencerreidswife @marvelsmistress

#e posts #e writes #e tags #e's scenarios #e's moots #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut

[wambsgansshoelaces]

I have a blurb request (or it can be headcanons it’s up to you and it’s totally no rush like take your time ily.) but Youngest Adopted Roy sibling, Tom, and Greg being the trio that everyone thought Kendall, Shiv, and Rome would be. Like you have three underdogs, three people that most would never place bets on just absolutely proving ppl wrong.

honestly idk if I did this the way you were envisioning it but it’s here :0 if you want me to redo it just tell me what you want to change and it’ll happen :P

the first non x reader on my profile, what have you done to me… /lh

thank you for requesting anon, I love uuuuu

word count: 999 (completion and new beginnings!!!)

CEO, COO, MPH

“Fucking move, Gregory.”

“I would if I had space, but I don’t!”

You’re crammed in between the two of them as they bicker. “It’s a small ass elevator, and that’s fine,” you hiss, the elevator finally coming to a halt on the sixtieth floor. The three of you were here on a mission: get them to sell. You were meeting with the heads of a company Logan’s been lusting after, and it was imperative that you got them to fork over their rights.

It’s not that you were so good at your job that Kendall had decided to send you with Tom and Greg, it’s that Logan wants the sellers to think that they’re not taking this seriously. So they send two randoms along with the head of some department at Waystar. You feel oh so important.

Tom smooths his tie down as you walk slowly through the hall. “I know this is all just pretend for Logan, but I’m going to actually try.” He glances back at you. “You help me do the talking. Greg gets to just sit there and look pretty.”

“But I- I have things to say, too,” Greg protests quietly, Tom shouldering open the conference room door.

“Just don’t say anything stupid,” Tom replies quickly before pasting a dazzling smile on his face, turning to the few people gathered in the room. “Gentlemen. How are you, how are you? I haven’t seen you fine folks in a while.”

You and Greg exchange a glance. You nudge him forward into a few handshakes, following suit as the sellers and their lawyers go from Tom, to Greg, to you. You take your seat in between the two, across from all of the other men.

“I don’t think I’ve seen either of you before,” the CEO says, awkwardly smiling. He gestures vaguely in the direction of you and Greg.

“They’re two of my most trusted, and between you and me, my most favorite,” Tom says smoothly.

“I handle all relations, communications, and media,” you supply, keeping your face passively sweet. “I was the one you were emailing with before all of this.”

The CEO’s eyebrows raise in recognition. “Oh, you! I don't know why I didn't recognize your face. I've read all of your work, actually been to all of your press conferences. You're so delightedly and properly educated, unlike your siblings. You were much more pleasant than the first person we spoke to.” He leans in conspiratorially, glancing at Greg when he speaks his next bit. “I know you’re technically both Roys, but Siobhan was less than pleasant to interact with. I don’t know how either of you do it. You don’t understand the relief the lot of us felt when they said we’d be meeting with you all instead. The first sit down we had?” He shakes his head.

“Yeah, uh, they can be intense,” Greg replies, eyes brightening. “Sometimes it feels like I’m in over my head, you know?”

The CEO nods, sighing. “I think we’re all friends here, and friends can be honest.” His eyes flick over the three of you. “And if I’m honest, we’re a little… apprehensive about this entire thing.”

Tom leans forward in his seat, his brow furrowing in concern. “Is it the money? Because I can assure you, the number isn’t the issue.”

The CEO shakes his head, a hand running over his chin. “No, no. The money is… it’s amazing, what can we say?” Polite laughter echoes through the room. “It’s just… the management.”

Tom nods, shifting back into an upright position. “Well, that can be sorted, can’t it? What are we thinking?”

“What was offered to us, Mr. Wambsgans, is that Roman Roy takes over the company from us for whatever number we thought appropriate. We like the money, we just need someone different at the helm.”

Tom hums. “I think for us to rearrange things, we’d have to give you a number. And it’ll probably be much lower than you want it to be, just because of… personnel issues.”

“See, I think the three of you would do a fantastic job, based on how we’ve interacted over the last month.” The CEO leans back in his chair. He points at Tom, then Greg, then you. “I see a CEO, a COO, and a Media and Press Head. At least, ones I’d be happy with handing my company to. And as long as we’re still over the seven figures, as initially agreed, then I suppose the money isn’t an issue.”

“We’ll relay the message,” Greg tells him, smile on his face.

“Ah, I know where I know you from, now!” The CEO’s face lightens. “You’re the fellow that helped out with the shareholder issues we were having back in October! You were a ray of fucking sunlight, I tell you. I thought the shareholders were going to dump us, I have no idea how you did it.”

Greg looks surprised. “Oh, I, uh, didn’t know you knew about that. I was kind of just given the order, and, um, I got involved, yeah.”

“I’m quite glad you did. Well, now I’m sure. I trust the three of you with my life, and I trust the old geezer as far as I can throw him. If he can come to terms with the three of you leading the troops into war, the company’s good as yours. Retirement’s on the horizon, for me…”

The CEO drones on for what feels like several more years, talking about his new young girlfriend and all the things he planned on doing once he’s retired. The vacations he’d take, the people he’d meet… You checked out after twenty minutes.

When you’re finally done and out in the hall, and nobody’s around, Tom pumps his fist in the air. “Fuck yes!”

“Did that just happen? Did we just do that?” Greg asks.

Tom doesn’t respond, just loops an arm around both you and Greg, and hoists you both into the air in victory.

#succession blurb #tom wambsgans #gregory hirsch #greg hirsch #greg the egg #succession #succession hbo #succession fic #wambsgansshoelaces #anon ask #requests open

[aromanticbuck]

Prompt 49. A certain someone owns a boat… 👀

listen........ you're absolutely correct

49. "You're not getting sea sick, are you?"

Jay leaned in the doorway that marked the separation between the boat's deck and the steps that led to the cabin below it. His body created a shadow over the stairs, one that ended almost exactly outside the small bathroom on board. Since he'd arrived that morning, the door had been closed with warm light peaking out from under it. That wouldn't be completely abnormal, but it had been almost an hour, and there hadn't been any change, and he was starting to worry.

"You know, standing me up would be a lot more convincing if I wasn't meeting you where you live." He shook his head while he started down the stairs and stayed quiet until he was close enough to gently knock on the door. "Hey, are you alive in there?"

"No."

Well, that was just categorically untrue.

Jay sighed and shook his head again, hesitating and shoving his hands into his pockets after a brief moment of quiet. "Are you okay?"

"No."

He frowned and pulled one hand out again, reaching for the handle of the door. When he found that it was unlocked, he pushed the door open just as slowly, and poked his head in. "Do we have to cancel today? We can reschedule if you need to rest."

Greg lifted his head slowly, barely lifting his cheek from the presumably cool porcelain of the bowl. He looked pale, and his lips looked dry, and his eyes were unfocused. He looked miserable, and Jay felt an ache in his chest before the words even reached his ears.

"No... no, I want you to stay, I just..."

Shaking his head, Jay stepped into the bathroom and tried to keep his voice light. He didn't know any of the details, but he did want to help, even if it was just being there. "You're not getting sea sick, are you? Maybe living on a boat is just finally catching up with you."

"Ha ha." Greg frowned at him while putting his head down again, letting out a slow breath. "No. You gave me food poisoning. You and your stupid idea to go to that taco shop last night, when I said we should go to a steakhouse. Now, I've been throwing up for the last three hours."

Jay sat down on the floor near him, his expression shifting into something more sympathetic. If it really was his fault, he should do more than just sit there and keep his boyfriend company. "So you've been here for hours? And you haven't had anything to eat or drink since?"

"No...? I get nauseous when I stand up."

"Okay." Jay took a deep breath and glanced around. "Look... I like your boat, and I know you love your boat, and I'm not saying you shouldn't live here. Just... let me take you to my place for a day or two. You can sleep in a bed that isn't rocking, and I'll make sure you have water or something with electrolytes so that you don't get dehydrated. It's just until you're feeling better."

"...in your bed?"

"Yes, in my bed."

"And you'll be there?"

"Keep it in your pants, Gerwitz. It won't be fun for either of us if you get sick again the second we get under the blankets."

[ drabble prompts ]

#answered #spiritcold5 #jay halstead #mouse gerwitz #greg gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #moustead #cpd #chicago pd #one chicago #champagne problems* #gregory gerwitz iv #i love them so much

[dumbestthingiveeverheard]

Dumbest Thing I've Ever Heard: 7/25/2023

Fifth Place: The Babylon Bee

Today, the right-wing satire website ran the article "Scientists Unveil Periodic Table Of Genders." Even ignoring the fact that this is the millionth or so time they've run a joke similar to this--you do realize what this implies, right? That the side in favor of transgender rights and who affirms non-binary identities have science on their side while you guys don't. In fact, this is even quite similar to a pro-transgender rights meme I saw posted a few years back.

Fourth Place: Matt Gaetz

The Hill reports today "Gaetz introduces legislation to end ‘unqualified’ birthright citizenship." Of course, given birthright citizenship has been upheld by the Supreme Court, repealing it would require a Constitutional Amendment, not just an act of Congress--something Matt would know if he took even the basic class on how our government works.

It should also be noted that Matt is trying to use this bill “to reflect the original intent of the 14th Amendment’s ‘subject to the jurisdiction thereof’ clause,” which refers to a part which quite literally reads that citizenship applies to everyone “born or naturalized in the United States, and subject to the jurisdiction thereof.”  If the original intent of that language was not that everybody born in the United States is automatically a citizen, which was the understanding held by the Senate when the Amendment was passed (as seen by a Senate Judiciary Report regarding the Amendment) and by then-President Andrew Johnson, then somebody should really have told those who wrote it to use different words.

This is a small aside, but one thing you'll notice if you listen to the rhetoric the right pushes on the Constitution is that they always seem to think the people who wrote it put some Asterix next to each part that implies something they wish it didn't which the rest of us are just too blind to see but totally shows the amendment is counter to everything they don't like. Although I am not going to sit here and pretend like the left can be guilty of the same thing--especially regarding the Second Amendment--it is not only worth pointing out that the right does it far more, but also that the right does it exclusively to take away the rights and freedoms of American citizens--or, in the case of Matt right here, to take away the status of citizen from millions of people.

Third Place: Hillary Clinton

Regarding the recent heat wave sweeping the country, the former Secretary of State wrote on Twitter:

Hot enough for you? Thank a MAGA Republican. Or better yet, vote them out of office.

First off, why the MAGA Republicans specifically? Don't Reagan and Bush Republicans also have a great deal of responsibility? How about Gingrich Republicans--you know, the ones who literally did everything possible to stop the environmental progress your husband's second in command tried to make!

Let's not forget that this is the same woman who dropped references to Climate Change from her speeches during her 2016 Presidential Campaign after Bernie Sanders endorsed her, who refused to endorse a carbon tax, and who encouraged other countries to embrace fracking as Secretary of State.

Second Place: Greg Gutfeld

It's not everyday the Auschwitz Museum feels the need to condemn something said on cable news, but Gutfeld's provided just such an occasion. Specifically, the organization criticized the Fox News host's use of Viktor Frankl's book Man's Search For Meaning while defending Florida's educational standards which say that slaves learned useful skills during their enslavement, in response to the Jewish Jessica Tarlov bringing up a hypothetical similar situation related to the holocaust. His statement was the following:

Did you ever read Man’s Search for Meaning? Vik Frankel talks about how you had to survive in a concentration camp by having skills. You had to be useful. Utility, utility kept you alive!

Can we just talk about the implication that the Jews who died in the Holocaust did so because of lack of skill? What the fuck, Greg?

Winner: Ron DeSantis

I am honestly starting to believe that the DeSantis campaign is run by people who really don't want DeSantis to be President. Remember that ad late last month which called Donald Trump to much of an LGBT ally that was put out by a pro-DeSantis Twitter account? It turns out the DeSantis campaign made that ad internally and then gave it to this account in hopes of passing it off as something done by a crazed supporter. Said ad was mocked all across the internet both for the idiotic claim that Trump was some stern fighter for the rights of LGBT people and also because DeSantis was trying to run to the right on an issue that many Americans no longer agree with the right on.

At this point, all one really has to do if they one to debunk the idea of a DeSantis nomination is point out how badly Mike Huckabee, Rick Santorum, and Ted Cruz all did when they ran on platforms rather similar to DeSantis back in 2008, 2012, and 2016 respectively. The fact is that every Republican Presidential Primary for the past decade or so has featured one candidate who is the preferred President of the nutjobs and, although they do a good job being second place, they never progress past that. The average American--fuck, the average Republican--does not want what these people sell, and the reason is because they understand that hating other people isn't going to improve their lives, while hate is the only thing these people offer.

Ron DeSantis, you've done the dumbest thing I've ever heard.

#the babylon bee #matt gaetz #hillary clinton #greg gutfeld #ron desantis

[ifihadtopickadad]

Whoops! You Were Just Adopted!

10 points to whoever figures out what fairy tale Nessa's reading. Nessa's birthday is October 13th 2002. Bonus points to whoever figures out Greg's birthdate. Also, who's the old guy.

Nessa hummed as she feigned reading her mom's diary. Taylor Swift's 1989 album played on shuffle, the current song Wonderland blasting at full volume. She didn't have the 1989 album, at least not a physical copy, but she did have Spotify, so there's that. 

The place where Nessa was meeting her half-brother and his mom was a peaceful little place that doubled as a cat cafe and a bookshop. Nessa set the diary down, eyeing the bookshelves. So far, she hadn't seen anyone pick up one of the books to read, so she didn't know if she could read them. Were you expected to buy a book if you picked it up and read it? Or was it okay to read one while you were here so long as you didn't leave with it?

"You can read them while you're here." Nessa jerked, eyes locking onto the person who spoke to her. She softened. He was an old man, in his 70s. He was stout but lean and hunched over on a cane with burn scars.

"What?" Nessa asked.

The man smiled, "I saw you eyeing the books." He was sporting an old, dull, yellow plaid shirt with overalls. "You seemed apprehensive about reading the books. I've been here before, and I felt it would make you feel better to know you could read them while you're here. You don't have to buy one. As long as you're not leaving with it."

"Oh", Nessa smiled. "Thanks." The man nodded, then went to sit in a quieter, more out-the-way spot. 

*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀

But what did she see when she went in? A great bloody basin stood in the middle of the room, and therein lay human beings, dead and hewn to pieces, and hard by was a block of wood, and a gleaming axe lay upon it.

Nessa hummed as she read. The fairytale in question would likely be her favorite for a good long while. "Vanessa, right?" Nessa looked up and was suddenly very glad that she'd chosen to take off her headphones while she read. Susan Miller was striking in appearance, more so than in photos. Her hair was long, lustrous, and snow white. Her skin was ghostly, and her eyes blue. She was smiling softly. Next to her, holding one of the kittens taken in by the cafe, was a little boy Nessa could only assume was Gregory.

He was a lot more miniature than his age would indicate. She would have thought he was 5 or 6 rather than 8. He didn't look underfed, and Susan did seem short, so maybe it was genetics. 

"Yeah, that's me," Nessa forced a grin. "I prefer Nessa, though."

Susan slid into the seat across from her, "It's lovely to meet you, Nessa. I'm Susan."

"I know," Nessa said, then panicked. "Uh- I mean-"

Susan held up a hand, "It's alright, I know what you mean. Now, why don't we spend time getting to know each other?"

"Okay," Nessa quieted, setting her book down.

*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀*⋆*❀❁❀

"I want to be you-" 

The music shut off as Nessa smacked her hand on her phone. She raised her head to check the time. 5:30. What the fuck was she thinking!? Screw beta-testing the VR game!!! Who cares if it's a paying job and the credits go on her school papers?! This is bullshit!!!

20 minutes and a quick shower later, Nessa was sitting at the dining room table as her mom made Eggs Benedict for breakfast. She lifted the coffee to her mouth. The beverage might as well be liquid gold for how tenderly she did. Nessa would've made her own breakfast. But after the three times she nearly burned the house down, it was determined that she wasn't allowed to cook in the mornings.

"Nessa?" her mom said. "Could you wake Gregory?"

Nessa looked up, "I'll endeavor to wake the demon. If I die, have the bridge to Taylor Swift's 'This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things' inscribed on my monument."

Her mom snorted, "Will do, Ness."

The walk to Gregory's room was short and sweet. Short because the hallway was short, and sweet because Gregory was already exiting his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Morning, Half-pint. Mom's got breakfast cooking. We're having Eggs Benedict."

Gregory jabbed her in the side on the way past her, "Morning to you too, Savage. Why does it feel like the universe is laughing at us for eating Eggs Benedict for breakfast?"

"It isn't, you're just delusional."

#fnaf security breach #fazbear entertainment #fnaf au #fnaf gregory #fnaf sb #fnaf vanessa #gregory afton #heir and a spare au #michael afton #vanessa afton #gregory's mom #fnaf oc #susan miller

[mimisempai]

Something worth fighting for

Summary

Greg comes home with a black eye and Mycroft is not happy at all. Maybe he'll soften when he hears the reasons for his lover's condition.

Notes

Mystrade Monday 2.0 #73 "Who did this?"

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On Ao3

Rating 7 - 1014 words

"Who did this?"

That was the first thing Mycroft said when he saw Greg arrive at the apartment. He pointed to the black eye that adorned his lover's left eye. Greg winced and replied sheepishly, "You should see the other one..."

Mycroft stepped forward and took his chin, "Greg, I'm serious... how did you get that bruise?"

Greg knew that, knowing his lover, he would have to tell him the truth either way. He sighed and replied, "It's that guy from the archives, he said something about you, or rather us and I..."

He saw Mycroft's expression change and quickly continued to reassure him, "It's all right Mycroft, when I say you should see the other man, I'm not lying. I've already taken care of him. But honestly I'm beat so can we go sit on the couch while I tell you what happened?"

As he passed the mirror in the hallway, he stopped and studied his face, then chuckled, "Wow, that makes me look badass."

He saw in the reflection that Mycroft was rolling his eyes as his lover muttered, "It mostly looks painful."

Probing his eye with his fingertip, Greg couldn't hold back a grimace and replied as he made his way back to the living room, "I'm not going to lie to you and tell you it's not. Right now I feel like my heart is just beating in my eye."

Mycroft replied, "Go sit down, I'll be right there."

Greg obeyed and was joined a few minutes later by Mycroft, who sat down beside him and gently applied an ice pack to his swollen eye. Greg could hardly hold back a sigh of relief at the sensation of the cold on his inflamed skin.

"Tell me about it..." Mycroft said quietly as he continued to hold the ice pack against Greg's eye and cheek.

"I noticed right away when I met this guy that he had a very hostile attitude, but I had no idea why. Anyway, when he couldn't find the documents I asked him for, I insisted anyway, because they couldn't be anywhere else. He replied that I just had to ask my fancy lover, that since I liked to play the whore for the government, I should have no trouble getting paid in kind for the information I needed. I'll skip the rest of his even more flowery speech. You can imagine I couldn't let that go, so let's just say my fists were faster than my thoughts and he responded in kind. Then Donovan held me back and calmed me down. Since she was a witness, she came with me to the Chief and we filed a report. The guy from the archives was fired, apparently it wasn't the first time he'd made homophobic remarks, there had been two complaints, but since there were no witnesses, no action was taken. I got a little admonishment that I had reacted with my fist, but that it was acceptable under the circumstances."

He raised his eyes to Mycroft and continued, looking stubborn, "I have no regrets and I will not apologize for defending my honor and that of the man I love."

Mycroft's expression softened and he leaned in for a light kiss, careful not to touch the places on his face where Greg was bruised. Then he said softly: "Well, the next time you feel like defending me, just remember that I don't like to see the man I love get punched in the face. It's a hell of a black eye."

Greg lifted his hand slightly and touched his fingertip to the bruise that ran along his cheekbone and around his swollen eye. "It's really impressive, isn't it?"

"Could you not look so proud of yourself?"

Greg shook his head and immediately winced because the gesture brought back his pain. "Oh yes, I'm proud. I've always run from confrontation like the plague because most of the time it ends badly for me. But this wasn't just about me. So yes, I'm proud I didn't run."

Mycroft kissed him again, longer this time and whispered, "It hurts me a little to say it, because you ended up injured, but I'm proud of you."

Greg rested his head on Mycroft's shoulder, "It hurt like hell, but I don't regret standing up to that guy and I don't regret fighting for us."

Mycroft rested his head on Greg's and replied, "Then I won't regret it either."

Inwardly, he promised himself that the next day, he would investigate the man who had hurt Greg and make sure he was never in Greg's path again. That was the least he could do to protect his lover.

He felt Greg's head grow heavy on his shoulder and said quietly, "Come on, let's go to bed. We'll be more comfortable."

"We?" asked Greg, "but it's still early. You don't have to come to bed right away."

Mycroft replied as he helped Greg up, "Yes, we. There's no way you're going to be out of my sight for more than ten seconds tonight."

Greg chuckled, "My, my, I have a very protective boyfriend."

They had reached the bedroom and as Mycroft helped Greg under the covers, he replied, "You have no idea."

He slid in next to Greg and wrapped his arms around him as Greg pressed his back against Mycroft's chest.

Greg whispered, "I don't mind, you know."

Mycroft chuckled, "Good, because I have no intention of changing where you're concerned."

Greg, feeling sleepy, murmured, "I love that."

Mycroft planted a kiss on his hair and replied, "Is that all you love?"

Greg whispered, "Idiot, I love you." 

"And so do I. Sleep now," Mycroft whispered. Then, when he was sure Greg was asleep, he added, "I'll protect you."

As if he had heard him in his sleep, Greg snuggled even tighter against him and let out a contented sigh.

Mycroft stayed awake for a few more moments, watching over his lover's sleep. It was only when he was sure that Greg was sleeping soundly and peacefully that he let himself fall asleep.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

#mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #mycroft x greg #some fluff as always #sherlock bbc #emotional hurt/comfort #established relationship #mystrade monday #mystrade monday prompts #homophobia

[sleepyjuniper]

I want to draw something for visions

Unfortunately, there are just too many good scenes (stop being a good writer and pulling on my heartstrings >:[ )

I saw your drawable visions scenes post and figured I could ask you if there's anything certain you'd like to see. Don't get your hopes up though because I doodle like a kindergartner lol

To be broad, I'd say anything from chapter 10 or 11 (there's not been a lot of fanart yet and it'd be really cool to see honestly any of those scenes!) OR one of my absolute favorite scenes is Moon listening to Gregory after he wakes up in the charging chamber, and holding Gregory in his lap

But be specific, I'll put some scene ideas from the latest chapters under a spoiler:

Chapter 10:

• Gregory and Moon sitting on the couch and talking to the DJ, who's kinda towering over them

• Moon giving Gregory a piggy back ride (technically not a piggy back ride cause he was carrying Greg on his shoulders but I didn't think of that until after the chapter was posted)

• I don't think there's anything particularly interesting about the scene in the security office, except maybe Moon standing threateningly over Gregory in an attempt to get him to stay hydrated, lol

AND I can get plenty of references for the security office if anyone needs

Chapter 11:

• The fall scene. Just. The fall scene. I've actually had an image in my mind since like. June. Of just. it's a far away shot sort of? And Sun is falling below Gregory, with his back to the ground, and reaching out for him. And the atrium is kinda all around them and making them seem small? Idk it's been plaguing my mind

• The scene immediately after they fall, where Sun is fretting over Gregory and they're literally sitting in like, the indent of a broken table

• Anything from the first aid station scene. Just anything. There's Sun literally applying the brace to Gregory's arm, there's the two of them kind of sitting awkwardly across from each other while Sun has an internal conversation with Moon and Gregory's just trying not to think about how bad he has to pee, or them standing and staring towards the entrance when they hear Freddy

• Also apparently any scene where Sun carries Gregory? Everyone seems to go crazy for this child being carried by the DCA lol

Hope some of this helps!!

#asks #visions asks

[idsb]

this bar is a ghost, and it looks like you

I was at this venue in St Paul almost 6 years ago to the date. I have been to this bar many times. And for some reason, of all the venues I've been to after 8 years of doing this, this one I see the most vividly of any of them. I didn't know it until I walked inside today for the first time in 4 years and felt like I was in a resin-preserved fossil. While not one facet of my life is the same outside, not a thing had changed inside, and I still see it all. I walked in and saw the bar that will offer half price, still terribly overpriced, meatball subs in a few hours. The bar M**** sat at hammering down drink after drink (Yueinglings), so he wouldn't have to drive. The way laughter erupted out of O***'s body when he realized what was going on. The small stage and the tables and chairs to the left, which years later I would run around secretly collecting every member of every band's drink tickets, only to get absolutely wasted on vodka cranberries - freshly 21, this was the only drink I could name to order at a bar - to lead Greg down a dirt path on a farm in the middle of nowhere as I made a horrible drunken attempt to direct us to a McDonald's, failed, and jumped out of a moving van to pee on some giant field of corn right outside the city. I look at the stage inside and see the hearts that fans held up because The Guitarist went on a twitter rant about how no one appreciates his band. I see the fans screaming in the front row. I see Kendall Schmit from Big Time Rush playing one of his solo songs, everyone's favorite of the tour, "We keep dancing but the rain don't come, rain don't come" as I watch from the merch table. I see the girl C**** and M**** fought over, whose name was Celine, one of the prettiest people I've ever seen in my life. Both of them newly single and too chicken shit to actually make a genuine move and us following her around the whole night, drunkenly laughing from the streets outside the venue to a Target - she educates us on 'Super Targets' in Minnesota as well as what the hell a La Croix is because it's only 2016 and we don't know, to the hotel parking lot where I structure each of them to have a shot at inviting her to their respective hotel rooms and they both fail miserably. The bathroom, the perfect sweet spot of grungy and aesthetically, beautifully white-hexagon-tiled that H*** and I had a photoshoot in, where I was inspired to start a now-abandoned project of photographing the bathroom graffiti in every venue I work a show in. The before and after of the shoot we did, the first time I looked at a before and after of mine and thought, "damn, I'm good at this". H*** freaking out over how good the images looked, my tweets of them being my first to hit a hundred likes. The drive we'd do from here all the way back to New York the following day; the absurd songs we wrote to pass the time that I wish I remembered, everyone saying the word "irrigation" in a midwest accent over and over and over again, the very first time I had a bang in my chest over how much I liked the Guitarist all those years ago. Sitting next to him in a Starbucks at a rest stop at midnight as he offered me a coffee and then got up and laid on the floor, exchanging locked eyes and laughter 2 years before anything between us would ever happen. Even more memories than I could’ve conjured up on my own as I walk into the backstage area and can see M**** sitting on the table by the orange couch and screaming as he realized he ate a raw onion and now his breath was going to smell bad so he couldn’t chase some girl. C**** and The Guitarist doing bottle flips in the narrow, graffitied hallway that leads here. Kendall Schmitt From Big Time Rush laughing at them as I filmed it, my insides bursting at how cool it is that that’s a true sentence. Getting high before the show with him and The Guitarist, studying the autographs on the walls and the guitar string vending machine to see who else had played here.

Every inch of this venue is haunted. With the person I once was. The friendships I once had. The life I could've had had it all been different. Or maybe had just one thing been different. Had that 'oh he's hot' never developed into a fully formed crush on one of the nights I was inside this place. The exhilaration of the memories I had here may have never died. I may know a thousand more wasted escapades across the country. These people may have never realized they never actually cared about me, and I might have never figured it out, either. The feeling, the pure adrenaline rush, of being someplace you don't know with the first friend group you've ever in your 20 years of life been a part of. The sweet taste of doing what you love as the background music to it all.

It is easy to block out the clean and lovely parts of this time of my life in favor of the stains. In favor of the nasty, "you never cared about me", "I never truly had a single fun time with you" and "that was an undercurrent of every moment we shared" brand of lies that get bandaged over the reality because it hurts less. And I know, in the back of my mind, that those things are not true. Nuance and circumstance and, yes, a bunch of assholes who lacked compassion or remorse, and me, myself, and I burned it all down. I broke away from something that grew to be horrible. But it grew to be horrible. It wasn't born that way. I set an old and decrepit building on fire. But it was once a mansion.

That doesn't go down quite so easy.

I'm not scared of ghosts, but I'm scared of the things that they remind me.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

"Home of the Lost: Chapter 28"

Here's the latest chapter! I've got a couple more written up, and I really hope you have finished this series by the end of the year - the total amount of chapters is going to be somewhere between 35 and 40. Anyways - enjoy and let me know what you think!💜

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

The sun hadn't even fully begun to set when Star woke up. The last rays of the now deadly sunlight filled the cave, and honestly, it was the only reason that she was still there. After her argument with David the day before, she couldn't help but feel as if she was a burden of sorts. Not only that, she realised as she waited, she hated the way David had treated her. She was not like him, something that all the other boys had accepted, and she was done with him being pissed about it. She had been doing okay as a vampire. She was getting the hang of it, and if he didn't like how she practiced it, he could fuck off. She was getting around the killing, she had done a remarkable job at cleaning up the messes - and she'd be damned if she let another man tell her what she can and can't do again. She made that mistake with Greg, and she would not ever allow herself to be treated like that again.

Star walked out, heading towards the boardwalk, not caring to let any of the other vampires know. She needed to be alone right now, to live in the rare peace she managed to find whenever she roamed the boardwalk on her own. Air. Blood. Music. That's what she needed. A bit of fun.

"You got the last page?" Allan looked at his brother, who seemed to be almost done. "I found someone who could get at least fifty copies printed and ready for us by tomorrow if we have it tonight."

"Almost, just the last panels alright?"

The two of them had been working at it for about a week now, ever since Edgar realised there might actually be vampires in Santa Carla. Allan had written the texts, making sure every single piece of information necessary for ones survival was in there, while Edgar had been busy making the illustrations. It took him another twenty minutes, and then he was done.

"You close up the store, I'll bring it to the printer-"

"Yeah. No. What if a vampire sees you? We don't go outside on our own at night, Ed."

"Fine."

Both boys left the store for the night, not realising they had made another boy around their age slightly disappointed. "Great," the boy mumbled as he kicked a pebble forward, "not only did we have to move here, but the only cool thing about this town is closed."

Max was up early that evening, enjoying the final pieces of light with a strong cup of coffee. He had been thinking, and he realised that the amount of changes his boys had to endure in the past couple of weeks - Star, Paul going missing, Eleanor and Paul returning - may have been a bit to much. He could not blame either of the girls for having to find their place in the group. He could not blame Marko for being determined to get his mate and siree back. He had appreciated how little he had to interfere with Star, mainly because Dwayne decided to guide her into the undead live. The way David had been starting fights and arguments left and right just didn't sit well with him. He wasn't sure yet how to handle it, and he wouldn't be for a while. He was about to leave for work, glad that his age and the uv-blocking windows in his car gave him the opportunity to do so, ready to leave a note for Eleanor, when he heard a scream.

He ran down the stairs, into the basement, to hear another scream. It was coming from the stairs leading to the garden entrance. Curled up, hiding away in the shadow, was Eleanor. One of the doors was open, and a stream of light came in. Max acted quickly, closing the door, before turning to Eleanor. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She didn't respond. She just sat there frozen. She didn't need to respond - Max could already smell the burnt skin on her arm. Carefully, he picked it up, examining it, before feeding her some of his blood.

"Eleanor, what happened?"

She shook her head quietly, sighing deeply. "I forgot..."

"You- you forgot the sun burns us?"

She nodded, curling up in herself. Max looked at her, realising there was one single thing he needed to know.

"What scared you?"

"The underpainting."

Max was quiet for a moment, not quite getting what she meant. But he saw her fear, he saw the red mark where the burn had been, and - he took a second to really look at her - her brown hair had turned an ashen grey overnight. She was terrified. Max sighed, picking her up and carrying her to her coffin. "I'll call Marko and Paul, alright?"

Eleanor nodded, quietly sinking down into her bed. She had hoped to be freed from the horror from the painting. But now, she began to wonder. Was she really free?

It's wonderful how music could make you forget, Star thought as she moved her body along to the rhythm. Little by little, the music overtook her. No more thoughts of home, vampirism, fights. Just the music. The notes, the melody, everything coming together in the moves she unconsciously made. For the first time since she changed, she felt free, free to do what she wanted. She opened her eyes, looking around and smiling as she met the eyes of a boy. He looked nice, kind, maybe a little bit tough - different from the boys, that's for sure. She smiled at him, causing the boy to blush.

"Do you want to grab a drink?" Star asked as she met up with the boy before introducing herself. The boy, a little awkward but definitely confident enough about his looks, grinned. "Sure. I'm Michael."

"Michael?" She tasted the name on her lips. "I like Michael. Michaels great."

"Star's pretty great to, you know?"

"Yeah?"

Star smiled, taking Michaels hand as they walked towards the bar. Michael. Michael was hers.

#the lost boys #marko #david #paul #dwayne #the lost boys 1987 #tlb #star #hotl #home of the lost #eleanor #tlb x oc

[519magazine]

[handicappedbuenchico]

🖊 — any tattoos? 😍 — celebrity crush(es)?🤔 — what genre(s)/theme(s) do you struggle to write the most?

🖊 — any tattoos?

Nope! Getting a tattoo is one of those things that I've thought about, don't get me wrong! I just...I have sensory issues related to being touched, especially with sharp objects like needles, and that combined with my low pain tolerance would make the whole 'getting a tattoo' experience like a real form of hell for me, ya know? Besides that, I wouldn't even know what I would want to have tattooed on me, or even where I would put a tattoo.

😍 — celebrity crush(es)?

☝🏻🫣Do...Do I have to continue on with this answer? I mean LOOK AT THIS MAN??? B.reckin M.eyer was my first and only celebrity crush, even before I knew I was a lesbian. Now that I am a proud lesbian, I can say that he is my ONLY male exception, like he could do just about anything with or to me and I would enthusiastically agree and thank him. I'm also talking any era B.reckin M.eyer, idc if it's Greg Randazzo, Jon Arbuckle, Travis Birkenstock, or even my boy Ted Lockwood, I will smash and date every single time. It's also a funny coincidence that on the first of this month, I revealed publicly on this account that I had a crush on B.reckin, and now you essentially just asked me to self-report again lmaoooo thank you Ed. (also finding that GIF was a happy accident, but I'm also not complaining 🫣🫣🫣)

🤔 — what genre(s)/theme(s) do you struggle to write the most?

Ah the genres/themes I struggle with the most... this should be fun. Now, I know that this is going to seem quite unbelievable, given that a lot of my writing has been revolving around these two genres lately, but for me writing erotica and romance is a struggle. I think it's because those two genres encapsulate RL experiences that I have yet to have, and it really makes me cringe when that lack of experience shows in my writing. For reference, it's one of the reasons I had to stop doing K.inktober after like, the sixth day. ((This also may or may not be an explanation as to why all those NSFW gif memes sitting in my askbox are gonna take a while to be responded to, ty for patience and I'm sorry 💀)) In terms of themes that I struggle with, I tend to struggle with themes revolving around coming-of-age, as I didn't really get to experience such a thing. My childhood and teenage years kind of just..passed me by with little to no fanfare? I didn't experience anything that Hollywood tricked me into believing I would. I mean, I also grew up poor yo-yoing between a major city's nicer section to it's ghettos so 💀💀💀 Another theme I tend to struggle with are ones based around morality. Now, I have a concrete thought process, and I tend to see most situations in black and white. I'm sure that, just by that description of how my mind tends to operate alone, you can see why morality as a theme tends to be a struggle for me. Morality isn't always black and white, sometimes there's patches of grey nuance. Sometimes people do objectively bad things for good reasons, sometimes the reverse of that is true. My brain struggling to see those little specks of grey in all the black and white makes writing those kind of scenarios a struggle and a half.

#trashcollected

[viridianstarlight]

Your turn 4 12 16 30

4: A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about If My Heart Was A House by Owl City Not necessarily someone I want to forget, but it's as close as it gets. This was my high school crush's favourite Owl City song, and since it's a gorgeously poetic love song, of course I related it a ton to her. I haven't talked to her in years (not because of anything serious, just friends drifting apart), and although I've mostly moved on, there are still days where I yearn for that relationship that never happened, mostly thanks to dreaming of her and that the crush lasted for like five years.

12: A song from your preteen years I DJ With The Fire by Eiffel 65 I remember being like 10 years old and obsessed with Eiffel 65, and this song in particular. I remember some days sitting in the front seat of Mum's car going to visit my grandmother, and we were just getting into town and I was listening to it on my iPod Shuffle. I also remember in high school, we were building Lego robots in our IT class, and I really wanted to make the one my partner and I were building play the song, but we never got it to work.

16: One of your favorite classical songs I'm not really interested in classical music, so how about something soundtrack-ish instead? How The West Was Won by Greg Dombrowski Dombrowski is currently my favourite composer. There's a few other composers that have come close (like Gisli Gunnarrson), but Dombrowski's still the favourite. This particular song is from his most recent album, and it's epic while still feeling classical-inspired.

30: A song that reminds you of yourself Ascent by Red It's so odd for my favourite song from a hard rock band to be one of the few compositional songs they've done, but gosh I love how it feels like a mix of sorrow and victory, and since I first listened to it like 6 years ago maybe (after checking out the album again, remembering that there was some stuff I didn't like when first listening to it), it's been something I've related to a ton.

Thanks for the questions blue! You can find the rest of the questions here

#to speak of kings and stars #littlebluebarista #an inquiry of starlight #ask meme

[mimisempai]

A question of trust

Summary

After a long vacation, Greg has to get ready to go back to work. That means he has to get rid of his stubble. Perhaps Mycroft can help him.

Notes

Mystrade Monday  1.0  #08 - “Forget it. You fucking suck.” 

@mystradepromptsandscenarios

On Ao3

Rating G - 751 words

“Forget it. You fucking suck.” 

Mycroft, seated against the headboard, heard Greg cursing from the bedroom. Curious, he went to the bathroom and, leaning against the door frame, watched Greg examine himself in the mirror and sigh again. Mycroft asked gently, "What's wrong?"

Greg shrugged and rubbed the growing beard on his chin, "I've been slacking off a bit this holiday, but I have to go back to work tomorrow, which means I have to shave. I was watching you use your old razor, and I've been meaning to try it, but I have to admit I have absolutely no idea how to do it."

He sheepishly pointed to Mycroft's perfectly maintained straight razor and shaving brush and cream.

Mycroft told him softly, "While I think it's a shame because I kind of like that look on you, I understand why you want to shave it."

Greg chuckled, "I'm Chief now, I have to keep up a certain image." Mycroft knew perfectly well that Greg didn't like that side of his new position, but he also knew that, unfortunately, appearances could sometimes make a difference.

He moved to stand behind his lover, wrapping his arms around Greg's waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. They exchanged a loving glance in the mirror, Greg leaning against Mycroft.

Mycroft's eyes fell on the shaving equipment Greg had shown him, and he whispered in Greg's ear, "What if I do?"

Greg turned his head and asked, looking surprised but also with a kind of longing, "Would you do that for me?"

Mycroft gently kissed Greg's cheek near his lip and replied, "Of course I would. More than willingly, in fact."

Greg turned in his arms and nodded, "Okay."

Mycroft slid his arms along Greg's and, taking hold of his lover's hands, guided him to sit on a stool that stood by the bathtub.

He went back to the sink, soaked a towel in warm water and came back to Greg, then grabbed his chin and dabbed Greg's lower face with the towel before placing it next to him. He returned with the shaving cream and applied it where Greg's stubble needed shaving.

After putting the cream away, he washed his hands and picked up the razor before standing in front of Greg. Holding his chin with one hand and the razor in the other, he looked into his lover's eyes and asked gently, "Do you trust me?"

Without looking away, Greg replied in a firm voice, "Intimately."

Mycroft smiled and kissed Greg lightly on the forehead before starting to work.

Greg watched as he brought the blade close to his skin and ran it carefully over the left side of his face. After the second pass, Greg closed his eyes, trusting his lover completely.

There was no sound other than the scraping of the razor against his skin and the occasional humming of Mycroft. After about ten minutes, he made a satisfied sound and Greg opened his eyes to see him return to the sink with the towel, which he soaked in warm water again. He returned to Greg and gently wiped off the remains of the shaving cream. Then he took Greg's chin and moved it back and forth to observe the result, and with a slight smile on his lips, he said softly, "Perfect."

Greg had never felt so well taken care of. He was about to thank Mycroft, but Mycroft didn't let him answer and captured his lips in a tender, lingering kiss. Greg didn't think of resisting as their tongues met and the kiss went from tender to passionate. He surrendered to his lover's attention and wrapped his hands around his neck.

As they parted to catch their breath, they both smiled and Mycroft couldn't help but run his fingers over the now smooth skin before running his thumb over the lips swollen from their kiss.

He said, a teasing smile on his lips, "There you go, Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade, you're ready to do your duty."

Greg grabbed Mycroft's hand, kissed his palm and then, without letting go, walked into the bedroom. He turned his head to his lover and, his teasing smile matching Mycroft's, said playfully, "Work's not until tomorrow, so how about we make the most of the time we have left!"

Judging by the laughter, sighs and moans that echoed around the room for the next few hours, it was certain that Detective Chief Inspector Lestrade would return to work the next day very relaxed.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Mystrade masterlist here

#mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #mycroft x greg #some fluff as always #sherlock bbc #emotional hurt/comfort #established relationship #mystrade monday #mystrade monday prompts

[mjlovescm]

11- Can I ask you a weird question? pt.2

Completed, 27 chapters, “She’s an angel” Rodrick Heffley x black fem reader

You'd be lying if you said you were immediately comfortable being “Friends” with Chris and Ben. It took you a day or two to fully believe they didn't know anything about what you and Rodrick did. But when you did, you actually found yourself enjoying spending time with them.

But something about it seemed to make Rodrick irritated. You assumed it was because now that you were inside on the joke, you could tease him along with Chris and Ben. That or the fact every time you hung out now was a group thing and not one on one.

Not wanting it to cause some distance between the two of you. You decided to invite rodrick over for a sleepover.

In all your years of friendship, you two had never had a real sleepover. Of course, his parents were fine with it. For obvious reasons, yours weren't. But when your dad approved of your brother having five boys over without speaking to your mom first. She wanted to use Rodrick as a way to get back at him. And Rodrick sleeping over meant so was Greg and as an extra measure Rowely too.

With the boys occupied downstairs, you and Rodrick were having the sleepover of your dreams. You were halfway through your first as Rodrick would call them “chick flick”. At first, you were honestly worried that Rodrick might not find anything in your long list of activist interesting. But without expecting to, Rodrick was actually enjoying himself. Either it was the fact that he finally had you to himself or the fact that you were so close to his face.

“Stay still.” You told Rodrick, who couldn't stop moving.

“It's fucking cold” He complains as you continue to spread the mask on his skin.

You could have been doing this while sitting down, but then again, they wouldn't be as fun as the feel of Rodrick hands on your hips. Fingers finding their way under your pink sating Victoria's Secret pajamas. One of his thumbs occasionally stroking your skin. But usually in unison.

You sitting down would also make eye contact a lot less bearable. As if you weren't struggling from this angle already. As if having his deep brown eyes piercing yours as he looked up at you wasn't enough.

Rodrick normally didn't like eye contact. It was one of his dead giveaways when he was lying. But with you, it was a must for him. Like now, as he stared into your eyes while you focused on applying the cucumber mask to his skin. When your eyes meet his, and you freak out and look into another direction. To him, it was cute making you nervous. You were cute.

“Please don't get it in my eye.” You told Rodrick who was no standing above you.

“Trust me, I won't. I've got great aim.” He assured you.

“I've used the bathroom at your house before and trust me I know you don't, and I don't see why you can't just use the silicone brush. Its more sanitary.”

“Because I know what I'm doing. It's just a face mask and won't it like ya know kill the germs.”

“That's not how face mask works.”

“Whatever y/n I'm not a-”

The door swung open before either of you could register it. The sudden movement startled Rodrick, causing him to spray cucumber mask across your face and in your eye. You yelled at the feeling and ran to the bathroom.

“Yall good in here?” Your dad ask standing in the doorway.

You both ignore him. Rodrick joining you in the bathroom to wash your eye.

“What that on your face?” He asks suspiciously.

“Cucumber.” You say in unison as Rodrick holds your bonnet from getting wet as you cup water around your eye.

“Oh ok.” He says, more suspicious. “Well if you need anything you know we just down the hall. Goodnight baby.” He tells you smiling. “Goodnight Rodrick.” He says less sincere before leaving the room.

Too worried about getting anything else in your eye, you moved onto painting each other's nails.

“Can I ask you something?” Rodrick says facing your tv.

“Of course.” You tell him applying a glob of black nail polish to his nail.

“Would you ever do that?”

You look up, and he nods toward the movie you were using as background noise. You hadn't been paying much attention to it, so while his finger cured, you watched. After a few minutes of watching, you got the gist of it. Basically, the two main characters were friends pretending to date each other to make their exes jealous. To make it more believable, they were making out at a party.

“Like friends with benefits?” You questioned him for clarification.

He shrugs. “Yea, like ya know, for practice.”

“Relationship practice?”

“No sex practice.” He clarifies.

You took a breath and went silent, returning your attention to his nails. Rodrick does the same, giving you a moment to think. He watches as you dab the small collection of bristles into the white nail polish. You were giving his nail a small skull design. Or at least what was supposed to be skull.

“You don't have to say yes.” He tells you worried he'd made you uncomfortable. “It's just like an idea.”

Your eyes don't leave Rodrick's hand. You knew if they did, he'd be able to tell how they'd darkened.

“Yea, I know, I just need time to think about something like that.” You say more to yourself than him.

“Is that a no?”

“No, but it's not a definite yes.”

“So it's a maybe.”

Next chapter ;) All chapters ;)

#mjlovescm #black fem reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #diary of a wimpy kid

[aromanticbuck]

"Unless you don't like me, in which case I take it back." Said by Gregory to Jay? Maybe after a full confession?

this got... longer than I meant it to. like 1.5k long. and it accidentally ended up being set within the Champagne Problems 'Verse, so there's a little angst there. because it's me. but I had a lot of fun with this!

I think I love you.

The words had been said so casually, as if they were something that was said every day. It was as if they weren't walking along a dock, close enough to leech each other's warmth in a weak protection against the chill off the water, shoulders brushing with the proximity. Neither of them had really intended to spend all day on the boat, or even more than a few hours, just making sure everything would be ready for the weekend when they did plan to spend extended time on the water.

But stocking the fridge and sitting down for lunch turned into hours in the sun before it set and took the warm day with it, chatting about work - well, Jay's work, and Gregory's lack thereof - and losing track of time while the conversation drifted from one topic to the next. It was a nice afternoon, even if it wasn't how they planned it to go, and he would probably do it again without any hesitation.

At least until those words were said. That was when he started questioning all of it. Going anywhere further than friendship hadn't ever been discussed, because that was what they both needed. Gregory had needed someone solid to lean on after he pulled himself up, a supportive force while he recovered, physically and emotionally, from a rough year. Jay had needed someone who wasn't so closely connected to his work, to all the people who had been hurt or killed or walked away. And they'd found those things in each other. And that's all it needed to be.

For a long moment, Jay couldn't find his voice, didn't know what words he even wanted to say in response. It led to a pause, a heavy silence that hung between them, weighted with the feelings that could exist within his chest, if he let them. If he let them build, if he put a name on them, they would be real, and the last time he'd let things be real... well, Erin was in New York, and he was still in Chicago. There hadn't really been a breakup, but they were still over, the finality of distance and unreturned texts and missed calls not leaving any room to argue otherwise. The last time he'd let those feelings in, he'd ended up alone, in the most painful way he could imagine, and the fear that it could happen again was ever present in his chest, smothering the things that had been growing there for months.

"Unless you don't like me, in which case I take it back."

The words were light, clearly meant to be a joke, but the underlying pain was there. He'd seen behind the mask that Gregory put on for the public too many times to not hear it. Because of course it would hurt, bearing one's soul and then getting silence as a reply. It was a confession, and a dangerous one considering how they'd even met in the first place, and he was... too stunned to even acknowledge what it might mean.

"Greg..." It came out as casually as the confession, like it was hardly anything at all, like the abbreviated version of his name wasn't used so rarely and only by a few He'd been told as much during their first conversation, and he did his best to listen. Because it was special, a privilege he didn't always have. But there was no fight, no instinctive correction, no reminder that their relationship wasn't like that. Then again, Greg was reserved for people he loved, and as crazy and unbelievable as it was, Jay was one of those. "It's not that I don't like you, I just..."

"Not like that?"

"No, I-"

"I'm not going to be offended if you don't like me romantically, Jay. I've survived a lot worse than a rejection."

It was true. He'd seen it all first hand, been the one who'd gotten the phone calls during the worst of it, kept tabs on what parts of the situation he couldn't see through Connor and his brother. But that survival had been touch and go, up in the air for longer than he had been comfortable with, and they hadn't even been friends, then, just a detective and a former suspect. And surviving shouldn't be the aim for something like this.

They were still close enough that Jay's arm brushed Gregory's with every step, a physical reminder of how their relationship had grown in less than a year. It was comforting, neither of them pulling back even when things got tense. "I like you. I do. I just... I'm careful, because I need to be. I don't want to get hurt again."

"And being in a relationship with me doesn't exactly make you confident something like that won't happen."

The pain was gone, and now he was just resigned. And the worst part was that it made sense, that his history was public enough that no one could really go in blind. Too much had come out during the investigation, and there was logic in wanting to worry about how any kind of relationship would end. He couldn't even be confident that their friendship would last as long as it had, the version of Gregory that he saw and the version in the gossip columns so contradictory of each other. But the trust between them was real, he knew he had to believe that.

"This has nothing to do with what happened to Thomas, or anything you did during your relationship with him. I... I got hurt, a few months before we met." They'd never discussed it before. There had been no reason to bring up Erin when they were spending afternoons on the lake and things were good. They didn't bring up either of their pasts, not when Gregory's was public knowledge and his own was entirely irrelevant. "I was in a relationship, a really serious one. We'd been living together for a few months, and I thought things were going well, really well. I was... I was gonna propose. I planned it all out - we were going out for drinks with friends that night, and I got my mom's ring, and it was going to be perfect... she didn't show up at Molly's. And I didn't know until I got home that night that she was gone. All of her things had been cleared out, and it was... it sucked. I don't want to do that again. I don't want to get so invested in someone just for them to decide that I'm that easy to walk away from."

When the quiet fell again, it was just as heavy, but the weight was new. It wasn't awkward or tense, just there, a reminder that every connection they had was still relatively new. They were friends, but it was the careful kind of friendship, loose plans that could be adjusted or rescheduled if something more interesting came up, not meeting each other's friend groups outside of the mutual ones they already had. Their lives were still separate save for barely there threads, slowly starting to weave together as time went on. But was that enough? Could they build more than what they already had on such a fragile foundation?

"I'm sorry. I mean... I don't regret saying it, even if you don't feel it, too. The last time I didn't tell someone how I felt... well, you saw. I just don't want to miss the chance to say it, because I know that it won't be around forever."

Jay frowned and turned his gaze toward his feet, watching the wood of the dock pass under each step. It was rhythmic and comforting, having something to focus on that wasn't the thoughts racing through his head and the fear in his chest. It made it easier to time his breathing to something steady so that he could relax, feeling the pressure leave his shoulders. And that was always so easy, when it was just the two of them and the water. "I don't want this to make things weird between us. I know we aren't even that close, and you aren't obligated to be patient and wait for me to get over a rough break up, and we're still close enough that I can take my snacks off the boat so you don't ever have to see me again if you don't want to..."

He trailed off at the sound of laughter, lifting his head again to see the happiness he knew he'd find on the increasingly familiar face. Their arms brushed again, sparking warmth under his sleeve and between his ribs even before Gregory stopped laughing long enough to speak. "Oh, no, we're still on for this weekend. I was going to teach you how to drive. And I'm not unloading all of your snacks to put them back in your truck. If you still want to go out again after this, I mean."

Go out. There was a double meaning behind the words, some stronger thread that connected the boat and them, and there were two questions being asked. And as tentative and careful as he wanted to be, Jay knew the answer to both of them.

"Absolutely."

[ oblivious idiots in love prompts ]

#answered #jay halstead #greg gerwitz #mouse gerwitz #greg mouse gerwitz #moustead #cpd #chicago pd #one chicago #alex writes things #champagne problems* #spoiled! rich! boy! has! a! boat! #thank you for your time #prompt fill