cosmicalywrong



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    "Okay?" Geno asked groggily. Sid snapped out of it. Cold sweat broke out across the back of his neck. He inched away, tucking his hands under his thighs. He wouldn't have- Geno didn't deserve to be hurt. Sid would never- "Your head?"

    "Yeah," Sid choked out. Geno leaned forward and soothed a big hand over Sid's hair, his lips twisting at the corners. His eyes were painkiller bright, glazed over enough that they looked like marbles. He left his hand on Sid's head as his eyes slid shut. Sid sat still as Geno dozed and counted his breaths.

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    12 Nov 2024

  2. Public Bookmark 49

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    For Ambrosius, the Goldenloins' annual charity gala is an assault course of invasive questions, unsolicited opinions, and unwanted conversations.

    It'd be easier if Ballister were there. But going home to him is better.

    Todd half stumbles into Ambrosius, then rights himself. ‘Can you imagine it, though? I mean, can you even imagine Ballister at some fancy party? Imagine it, right? So hilarious.’

    In fact, Ambrosius has spent most of tonight longingly thinking of exactly that. How much better this night would be if he could dance with Bal, could bridge any separation not by thinking of him all the way across the city in his Institute dorm, but with just a shared glance across the room—Aren’t the two of us beyond all this? Don’t you wish we could get out of here? Ten more minutes, and I’m all yours. Could be openly affectionate, hold his hand, kiss his cheek. Could answer journalists honestly: Yes, I am with someone, actually, and I love him very much.

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    20 Aug 2024

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    In fact, Ambrosius does just fine at love languages.

    (Or: Bal and Ambrosius's first meeting through to after the wall comes down, one love language at a time.)

    ‘Try gripping it more like—here,’ Ambrosius says, and sheathes his own sword, taking a step closer.

    Bal’s about to protest that he’s fine, he doesn’t need help. But Ambrosius’s fingers hover above his on the sword’s hilt, and when he asks, ‘May I?’ suddenly the last thing Bal wants is to tell him no.

    He feels so acutely aware of the gentle fingers on his as they adjust his grip carefully on the handle. No one’s ever really been gentle or careful with him before, so he doesn’t know if it’s always like this, like there’s shimmery warmth dancing between them, little pinpoints of electricity everywhere Ambrosius’s fingertips touch his skin.

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    19 Aug 2024

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    "Hello, Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's office. How may I help you?"

    "Hello, can I speak to Mr. Fox-Mount-krishen, please?"

    Alex blinked. After two weeks of hearing nothing but the voices of snooty men and frazzled secretaries calling in, the person on the other line now sounded decidedly neither snooty nor male nor in any way adult.

    It was a little girl.

    "Mr. Fox-Mountchristen's unfortunately in a meeting right now,” Alex began slowly, “but I could take a message?"

    "Oh." The girl paused. "You're not Mr. Hunter."

     

    Alex starts a new job as Henry's new assistant. Henry's daughter keeps calling the office and leaving him messages.

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    11 Aug 2024

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    “He was anything but cute. He was annoying.”

    “He was trying to flirt with you, Edwin.”

    “Well, I don’t wish to be flirted with,” he insisted. “It’s distracting.”

    or: Edwin is not very fond of the customer that keeps flirting with him against his will.

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    23 Jun 2024