#clandestine boyz

[sosaysdean]

cboyz by @k1d1c4rus

#how I do I tag this #GDJDHSKSKS #cboyz #clandestine boyz #sosaysdean.edits

[k1d1c4rus]

ty for 100 followers gang !! here's a gift: the cboyz pinterest, condensed and exported for your viewing pleasure <3

#realising half of this is travie centered is so <3 #cboyz #clandestine boyz #honey talks #fic lore #thank u for the support and the anons i know it takes a while for me to reply to things but i really appreciate and I'm so glad to have you

[decaydanceredacted]

rereading clandestine boyz and ugh andy has me screaming into my pillow every time. there’s just something so ??? about his character i literally want him to wreck me and then give me the best aftercare. that man was a professional!! dom!!! god i know he would have me shaking. wanna be completely ruined by him, i’m talking tears n sweat n spit, messy hair and shaking legs and a wrecked voice by the time he’s though without him even flinching. and then have him so gently push hair from my face n sit me up n take care of any marks i have and tell me how good i did. god bless you ao3 user jehoney for you have changed the trajectory of my life on behalf of the decaydanceredacted nation we thank you for your service 🫡 - sun anon

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#ah #sun anon #co signed because that was some real shit you just said

[pisshandkerchief]

clandestine boyz is the one and only fanfiction I will tolerate bottom patrick from tbh

[farrahda5hy]

Hey

Favourite fall out boy songs??

Woof…I’ve been a FOB since I was 11 years old circa 2005, so it really hard to say I have an all time favorite song. From an objective standpoint from watching the evolution of the band, I think Infinity on High is the best album they’ve released (this was before SMFS came out. I will have to rerank but I imagine SMFS will be in the top three/for and maybe IOH will be bumped down one or switch with FUTC)

I think the beauty of being a longtime fan is that your favorite song also changes and stays the same as you get older. Because growing up it’s like being a Matrioshka doll of your former selves.

I am always singing “Thriller” because it reminds me so much of being an early teenager since Folie à Deux didn’t come out until the end of my freshman year. But “Gold Shipped Standard” is the song on Folie that’s underrated imo but I think it’s the truth it kinda that era. It’s the weird uncertainty of what’s going to happens it’s the desperation of having a voice but not have the courage or being kept from using it (which being a teen is all about sometimes especially being a teenager of color).

When Save Rock and Roll came out, I was in my sophomore year of college (technically would have been second semester if freshman year), so “Where Did the Party Go” and “Miss Missing You” were very much my jams. I don’t listen to that album as much because….i just don’t. Part of me still see it was the post hiatus album, but I think it’s also just kinda a moment in time that you kinda just think about fondly or something. I think the album being the first post hiatus album gets so clouded that I think I was just so happy they were back….fuck that I just remembered “Phoenix” best song (but also Young Volcanoes because I’m a Pete girlie and I love Patrick’s laugh in that song also umm Rat a Tat Tat.)

AB/AP I was studying abroad, and I was so upset that I thought I wouldn’t be able to hear that album. But I think other than Centuries (because I loved the Song “Tom’s diner” and the bass solo after the bridge still gives me the ASMR tingles to this day and even thinking about it gives me tingles), the song I listened to the most was the “Fourth of July” and “Immortals”. Those are still up there. I didn’t like Favorite Record when the album came out and skipped over it. But I appreciate that song now that I’m older. “Irresistible” has my favorite music video. I love the videos where the band is doing dumb shit, and I just love Andy in that video. Special shoutout to “Twin Skeletons” and “Jet Pack Blues.” FUCK EVERYTHING I JUST SAID UMA THURMAN! Best song! Best bass! Best summer fun! Good video! Yeah. I loved the Boyz of Zummer tour. Had a good time.

MANIA there are no misses on the album honestly. It was all good. But “Sunshine Riptide” is my favorite song on the album. “Stay Frosty”, “Church” and “Hold me Tight or Don’t” are tied for third.

SMFS there are also no misses on the album. Currently, my most sung while I’m out and don’t have music are “Fake Out” “Heaven, Iowa” and “SMFS.” Honorable mentions for “Baby Annihilation”

I literally was able to buy Clandestine Industries merch for the first time, and my inner selves were so hella impressed.

Also for FUCT: “Sugar” hold the #1 space mostly because it was on the radio playing early Saturday morning in May for the first time in Maryville, TN, and Patrick’s voice literally woke me up out of a deep sleep, and I was like “Who is this!?” Literally was so mad they didn’t say who it was because it was Saturday and then the radio hosts on Monday morning played the song again and I was like “it’s the song!” Fun Fact; the hosts were trying to figure out whether the lyric was “loaded God complex” or “loaded gun complex.”

I forgot Take this to your grave because I think at the time I found out FOB had another album before FUTC (I think this was between FUTC and IOH or slightly after IOH) but “Dead on arrival” “Saturday” (which makes me so happy that it’s their like encore or finisher song) and “Calm Before the Storm”

I will spare you the two EPs because this is just memory lane for me at this point unless you’re curious.

#fall out boy #asked and answered #thank you so much I literally was thinking about this today

[cadburymilch]

Silver, a luminescent luminary within Milchyunjae, stands as a resplendent embodiment in Reveal The Boyz. The magnum opus, 'REVEAL,' unfolds as a melodic tapestry, intertwining the pop-R&B essence with a progressive house foundation. Its allure lies in a harmonious blend of tender yet robust notes, crafting an enrapturing melody that beckons attention. This opus narrates the tale of a youth veiled by daylight's facade, concealing emotions while observing from a distance.

However, as the twilight descends and the moonlight graces the scene, the boy discloses his authentic self, unveiling a clandestine affection akin to a wolf's impassioned revelation. Witness this lyrical metamorphosis, a moonlit confession that resonates with the soul.

The Boyz 's first full-length album, released on February 10, 2020 .

#Spotify

[proceduralpassion]

Hi

18. Share the scene you just wrote, written from another character’s POV.

20. Share 3 images that would fit to a mood board for this chapter/fic.

21. Share 3 songs that would belong on a playlist for this chapter/fic

18. Share the scene you just wrote, written from another character’s POV. I'm writing a little bit for my Horacio Carrillo fic, IWBSS rn. I tried writing a section from Horacio's perspective just now and this is muy bien?? Babes you might've just unlocked something...

I’m usually much more reserved in my frustrations, but the words fall out before I have a chance to reel them back in. “I don’t know if the work I’m doing right now is making a difference.”  Her eyes soften in understanding and she takes the seat across from me.  “Why do you think that?” “Foot soldiers are essential to any war. I don’t look down on it, but I don’t know that I’m at my most useful where I am now.”  She nods, taking in my words, and not uncomfortable with the silence between us and throughout what’s become our clandestine haven. She ponders, “Where do you think you’re most useful?” I don’t know. Which is as irksome as it is true. I’m no longer green to the game of armed forces, but there’s too many intricacies to the world of crime and combat to ever assume I’m an expert. I suspect I’ll always be constantly learning and reinventing the name of this game for as long as I’m in it.  “That remains to be seen,” I settle for. There’s a part of me that doesn’t want to outright admit that I’m weary with where I found myself right now, especially in front of her, but there’s another part of me that found it virtually effortless to confide in her.

20. Share 3 images that would fit to a mood board for this chapter/fic.

Lol well considering I have an actual Pinterest board dedicated to them, lemme whip out a moodboard with some recents (Canva pissing me off with the formatting)

21. Share 3 songs that would belong on a playlist for this chapter/fic. Well considering I have an actual playlist for them 😂 , here's the first three tracks which represent three different points in their relationship.

Fantasy by Mariah Carey- the honeymoon phase of their relationship, blissfully in love and obsessed with each other

End of the Road by Boyz II Men- the divorce (eek!) "Although we've come to the end of the road, still I can't let go" This is them to a TEE. Divorce ain't stopping nuthin' with them lol

Empire by Shakira- their eventual reunion when they're stronger than ever and nothing can stop them

I could literally give you a mini-analysis over every song that I put in that playlist but I'll stop right there lol.

THIS WAS FUN, thanks for the q's!

#wip asks #iwbss #horacio carrillo #horacio carrillo x oc #c: kiara nash #inbox ✉️

[eveningspirit]

B, K, N, U for fic writer's asks. :)

Hey hun, thank you for the ask :)

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

None directly, at least none that was ever posted. For me it’s more like letting the subconscious talk about the issues I burried? I guess. I did have one idea for the Gifted, it was AU where John and Lorna were brother and sister and their mom was based on mine, and very recently, for Roswell New Mexico, an idea where Alex’s mom took him away from his dad and brothers when she went away. She wasn’t exactly the mother of the century, although in a much more clandestine way than Jesse. There was no physical abuse at least. 

Honestly? I’m still trying to figure out if my mom was actually emotionally abusive, or did I just make it all up. *shrug*

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?

Oh. Hmmm... “Year of Hell” is a story with attempted suicide, which in my book is the most tragic place a person can be. “words like silent raindrops fell” is pretty angsty imo – mental breakdown. I also had a couple ideas while in the AoS phase, that I removed later, because I knew I wouldn’t continue them. I seem to remember one where Grant was part of the team, because they needed him for some reason, but they all despised him and shunned him for a long while. I didn’t have a clear plan of where I was going with it, all I know is I wanted to see how cruel people can be to those they deem “worthy” of being cruel to.

I think I’m veering away from all-out-angst lately. I still like to write themes based on hurt (emotional more than physical), but I try to make them more realistic and also give the characters some ways to solve their problems and some support system.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you? 

Oh, plenty! Especially considering the tempo of my writing now, ha! It’s the ideas, not so much finishing anything for me, no. :)

I remember a lot of great stories I read in other fandoms, that I’d love to see written again, from a different angles. Opera or Choir AU, Stormchasers AU ( @befitandchase, I think I should talk to you about that one), Ballet AU. I wouldn’t mind if someone wrote the Alaska AU that I started, but only if they wrote it the way I want it to be written, which… I can’t demand that, right? ;)

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Only three? Oh, boyz. There’s a lot more excellent writers in RNM, so. I. Can’t. Literally. Can’t. I will spotlight @emma-arthur , because we’ve met in a previous fandom, and... I think you know anyway, that you mean so much to me, right, Em?

Other than that, off the top of my head, @soberqueerinthewild , @pastelwitchling, @spaceskam , @lire-casander , @beamirang obviously, Anonymous (The Anonymous, I mean), @tasyfa, @queersirius, @befitandchase, @brightloveee, @haloud, @insidious-intent , @hannah-writes and probably many, many more that slipped my mind, but that’s for a moment only.You guys, sorry if I haven’t really been commenting on your stories. It’s executive dysfunction, not me, I swear... ;)

And also you @hithelleth, I really like your writing, but we can’t seem to fall in the same crowds anymore *sadface*

And see, it was three (paragraphs) after all… ;p

#writing meme

[nessataleweaver]

Come to the end of the road (fic)

Sansa meets her clandestine lover at the hour of the wolf, where the road ends in the Godswood.   (Part of the ‘Songs of Blood and Madness’ universe)

 For @jonxsansafanfiction Jonsa Love Songs event 2019: Day 4

Rating: Explicit. Mentions of aftermath of PTSD.

NOTE: This version of Jon likes using foreign endearments (don’t ask me why, I just do what the Muse tells me).  I couldn’t find a website for Valyrian, so I substituted Welsh. Hanwylyd =darling, love. Cariad =sweetheart, love

EXPOSITION NOTES: Why is this fest constantly inspiring me to write sequels to my WIP’s?

‘Songs of Blood and Madness’ is a modern-day AU.  You know those slasher movies when a group of nubile teenagers go to an isolated house on the shore of a lake, and there’s a psychopathic killer lurking? Well, in this universe is about the aftermath of that.  Sansa, Joffrey, Margaery, Renly and Dickon went to Dreadfort Lake, and met Ramsey.  Sansa was the only survivor.  Now she’s a very different person, and the Starks are having a lot of trouble dealing with it (except Bran.  ‘Cause Bran sees everything).  The only person who she feels completely comfortable with anymore is town pariah Jon Targaryen, grandson of the North’s previously most infamous murderer, the Wildfire Killer.  

This story takes place after Jon and Sansa’s secret friendship has become an equally secret but devoted love affair.

You belong to me

I belong to you

 Girl, I'm here for you

All those times at night

End of the Road - Boyz II Men

Over the past eight months, Sansa had become an expert in sneaking out of the house, day or night.  She didn't even need access to the tree outside Bran's window anymore.

At past midnight, one of the key tricks was to do so in her pyjamas.  On the off-chance one of her family was awake, she could just say she wanted a drink of water from the kitchen; if they found her heading out the kitchen door, she can simply tell them that she needed to drive off a nightmare.

Dr Brienne hadn't had much headway with her mother or Robb, but Papa had put much more effort into understanding and connecting with the after-Dreadfort-Lake-Sansa than he did with the before-Dreadfort-Lake-Sansa.  He'd even had a few sessions with Dr Brienne himself.  Ned had put his foot down firmly to Catelyn, Robb, and even Arya. Sansa was to be left alone to heal however she damn well wanted.  If it confused them or they disapproved, tough.

If Bran was the one awake then she only needed to reassure him that it was okay for him to go back to bed; Bran always seemed to know what she needed without being told.

Mother no longer tried to ambush her into conversations that only the old Sansa enjoyed or even saw the point of, but Sansa still parked her car in the street, rather than the multi-car garage.  It was easy enough to walk in the shadows of the garage to reach it.

It wasn't a long drive to the Godswood.  On a nice day it was easy walking distance.  But as much as Sansa enjoyed the night and moonlight nowadays, walking around after midnight still didn't seem like a good idea.  Not to mention having a car was much more convenient for what she had planned.

Sansa drove her hatchback to the very end of Godswood road - the dead end that only the park workers usually saw.  There was literally not a single person for miles around.

Even as she parked, her phone buzzed in the cradle.  Sansa smiled at the message, and climbed out of the car to make some quick preparations.  She lowered the back of the back seat, opening up the cargo area.  She had already stashed a couple of blankets in the trunk, and quickly spread them out over the whole cargo area; first the rougher blanket that will cling to the carpet of the trunk floor and the seat-backs, then a softer blanket on top.  She didn't bother to shut the hatchback, and sat on the blankets with her legs dangling over the rear bumper. 

Less than a minute later, she spotted Ghost coming through the trees.  Jon was right on his direwolf's heels, but the moon was waning tonight, and in his black jeans and matching long-sleeved Henley, Ghost was more visible.  

As soon as he saw her, Jon smiled.  Sansa was one of only a handful of people that ever saw him smile, and this particular smile was one he kept for her.  He climbed into the cargo space with her, and leant forward for a kiss of greeting.  It was soft and chaste, unlike what was to come.  While they have become much better at talking, their seemingly strange relationship was founded in being comfortable together in silence.

Sex wasn't the only reason they met secretly, but Robb had come home from college for the first week of his spring break, and had insisted on taking Sansa out almost every night to try and rebuild their relationship.  She and Jon hadn't been able to snatch more than a few minutes conversation at a time during the school day, and Sansa was starving for his touch.

Sansa slipped off her ballet flats, and carefully tossed them into the footwell of the front passenger seat.  She waited for Jon to work off his sneakers and socks, and she sent them to join her shoes.

She heard Jon's quiet 'Guard' command to Ghost, and glimpsed a flash of white bushy tail as Ghost laid down at the foot of the car.   Jon was already pulling his Henley over his head, and Sansa admired the flex of his sculpted stomach and chest.  He had to hang his bare feet out over the bumper to take off his jeans, and Sansa didn't bother to hide her grin as he wriggled out of the clinging denim.  He was naked underneath, and already half-hard.

Sansa laid back on the blanket, but she didn't touch her own clothing.  Jon loved to undress her.

Jon reached up to shut the hatchback, securing them in their own small world.  Then he curled on his side, took her into his arms, and kissed her again.  Sansa was instantly oblivious to everything except the wonderful feeling of his soft, pouty lips against hers, the flicker of his tongue against her sensitive skin. The kiss intensified, and she sighed into his mouth as her hands slipped around the back of his neck, her fingers tangling in his thick black curls as his arms tightened around her.

There was a dark, aching hunger deep inside her that demanded to be fed, and not even Sansa knew if it came from her heart or between her legs.  As her tongue entwined with his, she trailed her fingertips down his chest and she tangled her legs with his to draw him even closer.

“Steady on, hanwylyd, we have awhile yet.”

But his fingers swiftly opened the buttons of her pyjama top, and his mouth trailed lingering kisses over the swells of her bare breasts.  Sansa moaned with need and pulled him towards her desperately.  With careful strength, he laid her down flat on the blankets, and tugged off her capri-length pyjama pants, tossing them haphazardly into the front seat.

He gazed at her naked body silently, and Sansa caught her breath at the fierce, dark hunger in his eyes that matched her own.  Then, very gently, he ran his fingertips up the inside of her thigh to where her legs met.  She trembled violently as he cupped her mound with his palm, and stroked his finger between her wet folds.  She could feel the calluses earned from hours and hours of practice on his beloved guitar, and something about the hardened skin abrading her delicate, molten flesh made her want to howl for more.  More of his touch, more of his body, but most of all more of Jon.

He eased her legs apart, as widely as they could manage in the cramped space, and shifted to kneel between her thighs.  He sat back on his heels, the back windshield forcing him to bend his torso into an uncomfortable crouch that made his stomach muscles crunch even as Jon braced himself on one hand next to her head.

He reached down to stroke his long, rigid cock, and her breath caught at the sight, even as her cunt ached in anticipation.  Jon gripped his shaft carefully and stroked her folds with the velvety blunt tip, until her back arched and she pleaded with him breathlessly. Then he slid into her welcoming depths, dropping to his elbow to keep himself balanced, and using his free hand to stroke and fondle her breasts.

Sansa was halfway to climax already, and she clutched his shoulders desperately as her lover pleasured her slowly and sweetly.  She shivered with the warm, intense thrill of it as he drove the firm length of his cock deep within her, and she groaned as he withdrew, only to sigh blissfully as she felt him return. Jon’s face was set pale and hard as marble; Sansa knew it was from the effort to hold himself back, to make sure of her pleasure before taking his own, and it made her heart pound with adoration.  She held back as long as she could, holding on the very edge of ecstasy.  But then his hand left her breasts, slipped down once again between her legs, and his forefinger finally stroked her nub.  Sansa cried out and bucked against him as her entire body felt like it had been set afire by his touch.

Sansa raked her nails down his back in reaction, and Jon hissed.

"Watch the nails, cariad.  I have soccer practise tomorrow, and the locker room has enough to gossip about."

Sansa gripped the back of his neck to bring his face to hers, but instead of kissing him, her teeth closed gently on his earlobe, and she tugged.

"I want them to see," she murmured.  "I want them to know that I've claimed you.  We can't hold hands in the street, so I need to show that you're mine in other ways."

He grinned at her in dark satisfaction, and sped up his strokes, driving into her faster and faster.  Then his head dipped down to her breasts, gently nipping at the hard tips and soft curves.  Sansa grabbed his gorgeous ass, trying to pull him deeper inside as she finally tipped over the edge and the scorching wave of pleasure swept over her. Jon groaned in response and drove himself to the hilt as his own climax hit, and Sansa felt a second wave, smaller but no less powerful, as he spasmed deep within her.

All at once, Jon’s body relaxed from his semi-crouch into simply collapsing onto Sansa’s body, his curly hair spread across her chest above her breasts.  As Sansa tried to catch her breath, she gently rubbed his back with both hands.  With a sigh, Jon pulled out of her and they half-struggled, half-rolled together in the small space until Jon was on the bottom.

Now they had taken the edge off their mutual need, Jon settled onto his back, laying at a diagonal to stretch out as much as possible.  Sansa curled up beside him with her head on his shoulder, and Jon's arm automatically wrapped around her, his hand curving over her hip.

He told her about latest rehearsal of the Night's Watch, and the trouble Sam had had in getting the footwork right for his drum solo in their latest song.  His father had been getting on his back worse than usual and Sam hadn't had a lot of time to practise.  Sansa talked about Rickon's camping trip with the Wilderness Scouts, and how taking over as his chauffeur and 'things to do at home with your parents' role seemed to be helping smooth Catelyn's latest ruffled feathers. She enjoyed the extra bonding time with Rickon, in any case.

Sex wasn't the only reason they meet secretly.  It was also the only time they had to really catch up on each other's lives.

A natural break in the conversation left them still and quiet for a few moments, then Sansa broke the silence.

"I couldn’t find a moment alone to call you and tell you; Lady Olenna's invited me to visit Highgarden this summer.  She said I was free to bring a plus one."

"You mean... me?"

"If you can get away from your summer job.  And if it's safe."

Jon tilted his head so his eyes could meet hers.  "You think it might not be?"

"Lady Olenna will always be grateful to me for avenging Margaery's death.  And she's finding me interesting in my own right, nowadays.  She would keep her mouth shut under torture, if only to give the secrets she held higher value.  It's Loras I'm worried about.  Margaery told me a lot about him over the years; he's melodramatic, and has a tendency to make hasty and ill-considered decisions.  He was also desperately in love with Renly, even though Margaery and Olenna both thought they brought out the worst in each other.  I can just see him deciding that I don't deserve to have a lover when his is dead, and sending Mother an anonymous letter or something equally petty."

"Hmm. Maybe ask Lady Tyrell about that. I won't be offended if you decide to take Bran instead, but I'll miss you.  Speaking of allies... I want to tell Uncle Aemon about us.  He loves me, and he knows better than anyone what kind of treatment we'd be facing if we went public.  Anyway, he's already figured out that I'm seeing someone, just not who.  I can't hide how happy you make me, not from him."

Sansa smiled in the gloom.  "Why do you think I told Dr Brienne all about you?  She thinks you're very good for me.  I agree."  She thought for a few moments. "If we do tell Professor Targaryen, what about his carer? Could we work around him?"

"Probably.  Even if he did find out, Edd wouldn't tell anyone just on general principles.  He's as miserable with his words as he is about everything else."

"Then go ahead and tell your Uncle.  I'd love to meet him, actually, given all that you've told me about him.  Let's work around Edd for the meantime."

Jon murmured an agreement, and they fell silent again.  

They both knew the possible consequences of their love being discovered.  Sansa was sure that she could talk her father around with a mature discussion, especially since Dr Brienne approved of Jon.  Her mother, however, was another story. Catelyn had spent sixteen years and change working to mould Sansa into the Sothron lady that she herself had been in her youth.  Finding out that Sansa was no longer a virgin would make her furious; finding out that Sansa was the lover of the Wildfire Killer's grandson - the ultimate bad influence, in her eyes - would send Catelyn into the stratosphere.  Catelyn had always had big plans for Sansa's future, and she had long ignored Sansa becoming disillusioned with the Sothron lifestyle due to Joffrey's treatment of her.  Sansa wouldn't turn eighteen for just over a year, Jon was fast approaching his nineteenth birthday, and Catelyn was fully capable of having Jon charged with statutory rape to remove him from Sansa's life.

"Okay. Gods, I can't wait to have you in my bed," Jon sighed.  "I can't possibly give you a proper Lord's Kiss in these cramped conditions."

"What!" sputtered Sansa.  "You want to take the risk of introducing me to your Uncle so you can go down on me?"

"No, cariad.  I want to take the risk of introducing you to Uncle Aemon because you're the two most important people in my life.  The fact I can make love to you in a proper bed and finally get enough room to lick every fold and crevice of your cunt, and enough privacy to try and make you scream in pleasure for several hours is just a nice bonus."

Sansa gasped, as erotic images sparked by his words tumbled through her head.  “Several hours?”

Jon grinned, and the hot, dark fire was back in his eyes.  “I did tell you about Uncle Aemon’s collection of antique books, yeah? Including the rare reprint of an instruction manual written in the pleasure houses of Lys five hundred years ago?”

“He let you read it?” asked Sansa, intrigued.

“Seven Hells, no.”

Sansa sighed in disappointment.

“I snuck into his study to memorize it when I was thirteen.  Taught me far more than sex education did at school, I can tell you.” Jon grinned, “Well, once we get an actual room to ourselves I can show you.”

“How soon can you talk to him in private?” Sansa asked, then laughed.

The tension broke, and Jon angled his head to look at the clock in the car’s dashboard. “Fuck.  As much as I’d love to do exactly that one more time, I need to go. If I don’t get at least a few hours of sleep tonight, I’ll be fumbling the ball at practise tomorrow, and Coach Marsh will bust my arse.”

Sansa sighed, her voice heavy with reluctance.  “Me too.  I have to drop off Bran on my way to school in the morning, so early start.”

They exchanged looks of regret as they unwound themselves from each other, Sansa buttoning her pyjama top as Jon retrieved her pants and helped her shimmy into them.  Jon waited patiently for her to retrieve his clothes from the front., as Sansa loved to dress him.  Covering up his delicious body felt like wrapping a present for herself, and Jon found it incredibly erotic.  It helped build the anticipation for the next time.

After a final, lingering kiss, Jon whistled to Ghost and walked back into the Godswood. Sansa watched them go until they disappeared between the trees, and climbed back into the car for the journey home.

As she settled into her bed, sleep came quickly for her.  Her nightmares and night terrors had steadily decreased over the past months, but it was only after her trysts with Jon that sleep was deep and sweet.

It took both nerve and planning to conduct a clandestine affair, but Sansa had survived playing for higher stakes.  She knew how her well-meaning, increasingly claustrophobic family would react to her taking the last Targaryen as her lover.  But the more time Sansa spent in Jon’s arms, the more certain she became. Jon was not only her first lover, but her last.

Wolves mated for life, after all.  Sansa rather thought that dragons did too - or at least hers did.

#jonxsansafanfiction #jonxsansaff #jonxsansaff love songs

[musingsdeme]

Silly Love Songs

There are exactly twenty-two cassette tapes in the shoebox under the passenger seat of the Impala. There have been exactly twenty-two cassette tapes in that box since Dean was twenty-five and bought a copy of Abbey Road and Combat Rock from a record store in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Most of the tapes were John’s, inherited right alongside the Impala, the soundtrack of a life on the road: Motorhead and Lynyrd Skynyrd; Black Sabbath and The Kinks; there’s even some Springsteen in there that Dean is pretty sure belonged to his mom before everything went to hell. Dean (and even Sam) can pick some of them out without even looking: Kashmir’s label has worn off from being handled so many times; Back in Black has a noticeable chip in the left corner; Heaven and Hell is weirdly heavier than the rest. Dean’s lived by this music; driven back and forth across the country to the sounds of those tapes. There are exactly twenty-two cassette tapes in the shoebox under the passenger seat of the Impala, until one day, there are exactly twenty-three.

ao3

Dean discovers the twenty-third tape on a Tuesday evening in May. The weather is turning swiftly towards summer; there’s a heavy golden glow hanging in the air from the setting sun, it smells like earth and light when he steps outside the bunker, climbs in the Impala, and rolls down the windows. It’s almost eighty still and it’s the perfect weather for grilling up some burgers, and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do. Dean’s got a smile on his face as he heads to the grocery store. There’s a lot to celebrate. The Mark of Cain is long gone, Cas is human (of his own choice) and more relaxed than Dean’s ever seen him, Sammy is not in any kind of danger or trouble (in fact, when Dean headed out the kid was happily geeking out over some boring shit in the Men of Letters archives). If they kept a kept a tally (which they would never do for fear of calling down catastrophe) it would proudly declare that IT HAS BEEN [37] DAYS SINCE OUR LAST LIFE, DEATH, OR HELLISH FATE SITUATION. That’s something to be damn happy about.

On the way to Trader Joe’s, Dean listens the steady rumble of the engine. He drums his fingers on window ledge, reviews his mental grocery list, and smiles at nothing. He’s been doing that a lot lately: smiling at nothing, humming even, bouncing on the balls of his feet, laughing. It’s partially because there isn’t some arcane brand on his forearm making him want to kill everything in sight, but it also has a lot to do with the fact that he kissed Cas for the first time thirty-seven days ago.

They were bloody and exhausted, sweating, and covered in ash in the wake of the ritual that cured Dean, laying grace against the mark, cleansing his soul of the curse. They were lying there, tears in both their eyes, on the floor of the dungeon. Cas had laid his fingers against Dean’s cheek, a whisper of a touch, and Dean had closed his eyes, overcome with Cas’ gentleness, letting it radiate through his whole body.

He didn’t run away like he had some many times before, afraid, embarrassed, undeserving. Instead, for the first time, Dean let himself lean into Cas’ touch. Unhindered by bloodlust, everything else flooded to the surface—affection and relief and gratitude—it was all right there in front of him. For the first time in a long, long time, Dean felt alive. Miraculously, fully, alive, and, buoyed by that heady sensation, he reached out for Cas, when so many times before he had flinched away. Dean laid a heavy, shaky hand against Cas’ hair and he smiled through a broken cheekbone and a bloody mouth. Cas’ eyes shown bright and full and so damn relieved, so damn happy. He leaned forward, and Dean met him half way and it was the most fucking amazing, wonderful moment that Dean had ever had in his whole life.

So yeah, on this bright sunny evening in early summer, Dean has a lot of things to be happy about, and a pretty sizable chunk of those things include Cas: Cas at his side, Cas in his bed, Cas smiling more, Cas frowning less, Cas stealing his clothes, Cas drinking coffee, Cas holding him at night. Dean is almost forty but he feels so light, so airy, he swears sometimes he could fly.

He whistles his way through the grocery store. Loading his cart with ground chuck and freshly baked burger buns, sweet potatoes and bell peppers and onions, tomatoes, cheddar cheese. He grabs a pineapple and some blueberries (for pancakes tomorrow), remembers to grab the granola and Greek yogurt Sam asked for, and the Orange-Mango juice that Cas is crazy about. He waits in line, making funny faces at the toddler in the cart in front of him and making small talk with her mother. He pays and loads everything into brown paper bags and then into the trunk. He twirls the keys around his fingers and slides behind the wheel.

“Time to get home, Baby,” he says, patting the wheel.

It’s at that moment, on this beautiful Tuesday evening in May, with the sun shining and the Impala loaded down with groceries, that Dean decides what his ride home needs is some tunes. He reaches into that old shoebox ready to let chance decide what he’ll listen to, expecting something familiar, but his hand grabs a tape that he doesn’t recognize.

He at first thinks that Sam’s tried to sneak some Indie crap into his sacred space, but when he pulls out the tape, the writing across the front is not Sam’s messy scrawl, it’s the sharp, slightly slanted lines that belong to Cas. All in capital letters, precise and pointed, the label reads FOR DEAN.

Dean’s heart jumps immediately to his throat, where it beats much faster than normal. There is a rubber band wrapped around the tape to keep a folded piece of paper attached. With trembling hands, Dean removes the rubber band and unfolds the paper. He half expects it to be a track list, but what he finds is Cas’ tightly packed writing filling the page from top to bottom.

“Dean,” it reads, “please, play the tape and read along.” The ‘and’ has been underlined enough that Dean can see the glare that Cas would use to punctuate if he were speaking aloud.

Dean turns the tape over in his fingers, bites his bottom lip. He feels like he’s standing on the edge of a cliff, about to jump. His palms are damp and he shakes his head.

“Nut up, Winchester,” he mutters and he shoves the tape into the deck.

It takes a few seconds to start playing, but when it does, Dean can’t help it, he laughs; it’s a strange, strangled, wet laugh. Fucking Jason Mraz. Really, Cas? Does that make Dean Colbie Caillat? He shakes his head bemusedly, and rubs his eyes before he reads what Cas wrote:

“1. I would like to think that the reason that I included this song on this tape is obvious, but, in case that it is not, I wish to make it abundantly clear how lucky I feel to be in love with my best friend. You are the dearest and best friend that I have ever known in all my incredibly long life, to share not only this profound bond, but also the deep and abiding love that I feel for you is a gift that I had never hoped to experience, never thought to experience, and I am incredibly grateful to have the privilege of loving you as our relationship has evolved to include numerous forms of love: friendship, camaraderie, family, and romantic affection.”

“Jesus Christ, Cas, you can’t just say shit like that,” Dean grips the steering wheel, realizing that’s probably why Cas wrote it down.

It continues like that, for every song on the tape, Cas has written a note explaining why it’s there, what it has to do with him and what it has to do with Dean and, most importantly, what it has to do with the two of them together. The notes are earnest, they’re heartfelt, and they keep Dean oscillating between muffled laughter and silent tears.

Dean listens and he reads; he follows along right down the line.

“2. Given that we did, quite literally, find love in the most hopeless of places (I’m referring to Hell, though a case could also be made for Purgatory and some rather difficult situations on Earth) and times (the Apocalypse comes time mind), I thought that this song was apt. I don’t know that I have ever told you this (indeed, I know I haven’t, fearful of how you would react), but I loved you the first time I beheld you, Dean. Your soul shown so brightly amongst the desolation of that place, and when I held you in my grace I was changed fundamentally from the being I once was. I have never felt so close to another.”

Dean has to wipe his eyes and sniff, “C’mon, man.”

When he hears the third song, he laughs.

“3. I understand that you have a deep, abiding (and partially clandestine) love of Taylor Swift. I was hard-pressed to choose amongst her many works (all of which are quite catchy). This, however, seemed most appropriate as one of your most admirable qualities is your ability to ‘shake off’ the burdens that the world and fate have presented to you, and continually find beauty and joy in spite of hardship.”

“4. Dean, I would very much like to hold your hand every day for the rest of my human life. Nothing would bring me more happiness than to share this and other simple pleasures with you.”

“You’re such a damn sap, Cas,” he mumbles, wishing Cas were with him, wishing he could hold his hand through this, rub his thumb against Cas’ palm, press a kiss against his knuckles.

Boyz II Men sings “I’ll Make Love to You” as the fifth song, and Dean rolls his eyes and smiles when Cas uses his notation to basically quote the whole damn thing, with particular emphasis on holding Dean all through the night.

Dean is chuckling to himself when he flips the tape.

Elvis is in sixth place:

“6. Dean, I could not help but fall in love with you, with the beautify of your soul, with the strength of your character, with your capacity for love and you abidingly loyalty, with your laugh and your smile, with your stubbornness and your passion, with your compassion, with your capacity for forgiveness and your willingness to give all that you have to those you love. I did not know at first that that is what I felt for you, others realized it long before I did, and they did, in fact, try to stop me from falling in love with you. They tried many, many times, but no one could ever break that bond, Dean. You and I, we are stronger when we are together, the ties that bind us are far greater than any scheme or machination that they have yet to concoct on any realm of existence. And I will continue to love you and fall in love with you every day”

Dean thinks about Zachariah, about Naomi, about Cas hiding in Purgatory, and Dean’s own bullshit. He thinks about all the crazy, stupid shit that’s come between them and all the stupid, crazy shit they’ve overcome, and it’s suddenly crystal clear how many times Dean has fallen in love with Cas, with his gentle hands and fierce spirit, with his strength and faith and determination; how he has always, always been there when Dean needed him.

REO Speedwagon comes on next.

“7. I feel this song encapsulates much of what I’ve experienced in the past few years. It was difficult to ‘hold back’ how I felt for you, even more difficult to express the depth of the affection that I carried for you in a way that I thought you would accept. I am happy that we no longer have to ‘fight this feeling” but can, instead, embrace it.”

When One Direction comes on Dean is startled into a laugh.

“8. Despite the inherent paradox in the lyrics, I thought of you when I first heard this song. It seems so often you undervalue your worth, undervalue that which makes you truly beautiful, and it pains me (and also Sam and all those who care for you) to see you be so unaware of and so cavalier with your person. You are the most beautiful soul I have ever beheld and I wish you could see how I see you. You glow Dean, you are ethereal, you are the sun.”

Chicago is next with “Just You’N’Me,” and for the second time, Cas, uses his allotted space to basically quote the entire thing (“You are my love in my life, Dean, you are my inspiration”). “You Make Me Feel So Young” follows (“I have never known what it was to be young, to feel youthful, or carefree. For something as old as I, literally older than dirt, youth seems a alien sensation, but, when I am with you, I feel a sense of wonder and excitement that I have never before known. I see things differently, I experience things differently, and for the first time. It is a gift.”)

The last song plays “A Thousand Years” and Cas writes simply: “I have loved you with all that I am, and will continue to do so as long as even a part of me exists in this, or any, universe”.

When the tape stops, Dean is left in silence. There are tears on his face and his heart is a slow, steady, painful beat in his chest. He feels overwhelmed, filled to the brim, shaking, and all he can say is “Christ, Cas.”

He wipes his eyes, clears his throat, and heads for home.

*

He doesn’t bother unloading the groceries when he gets there. He just scrambles out of the Impala, and moves like a man on a mission, quick and purposeful and a little faster than normal.

Sam is exactly where Dean left him, hair a little messier and notebook a little fuller, still buzzing with scholastic energy. He looks up when Dean comes in.

“Hey, Dean, guess what I found in the—” he frowns, “Where are the groceries?”

“Trunk,” he tosses Sam the keys, “Change of plans: we’re orderin’ in tonight.”

Sam frowns more deeply, “Um, okay…everything all right?”

“Where’s Cas?”

Sam’s frown starts to take on a worried edge, “I think he’s in the kitchen. Dean, are you sure that you’re—?”

Dean stalks off towards the kitchen while he answers, “Totally fine, dude. Unload the groceries and order some pizza or something.”

Sam mutters a reply that Dean doesn’t make out; he doesn’t really care presently.

Cas is, in fact, in the kitchen, rooting through one of the cabinets near the stove.

Dean’s heart swells and his fingers tingle with nervous energy.

Cas doesn’t turn around, but Dean can hear the smile in his voice.

“Dean, you’re back,” he pulls a box from the very back of the cabinet, “I was just about to make some tea would you like—” he turns, pauses, and tilts his head, “Where are the groceries?”

Dean rolls his eyes. How is that the biggest issue right now? How awesome is it that that’s the biggest issue right now? Can’t they tell he’s having a goddamn moment?

“I need to talk to you,” Dean says. His voice comes out much gruffer than he intended. Cas’ forehead furrows, but he permits Dean to grab his wrist (smooth warm skin, and strong tendons beneath Dean’s fingertips) and allows himself to be dragged away.

Dean tugs Cas along in his wake and neither of them speaks until Dean pulls them both into Cas’ room and closes the door behind them.

Cas stands before him, increasingly concerned, tension in his shoulders and a worried frown on his face. He’s gonna get wrinkles, Dean thinks, how goddamn lucky is he that he gets to see that happen. Apparently Dean’s bemused smile does nothing to decrease Cas’ preoccupation because he starts forward as if he’s going to lay a hand on Dean’s forehead, not to heal, but to check for fever. Affection washes over Dean in a wave of warmth. He intercepts the gesture, holding up the tape. Cas drops his hand and takes a step backwards.

“Cas, what is this?” Dean asks, tone serious.

All of the tension leaves Cas’ body for a second, Dean can actually see all the puzzle pieces slotting into place in Cas’ mind as he works out Dean’s behavior in response to the cassette in his hand. He touches the back of his neck and shuffles on his feet, suddenly nervous.

“It’s a mix tape.”

“Cas,” Dean says, voice low, “why did you make this?”

Cas frowns, blinks several times, and then stands straighter, “I was speaking with Claire last week, texting actually, and she commented upon the changed nature of our relationship.”

“Of course she did,” Dean quips. She was probably damn sassy about it too.

Cas’ mouth twitches, “Yes, well, she said that all we were missing now was a letterman jacket and a mixed tape to be a complete cliché.”

Dean barks out a laugh, “The whole angel and human thing wasn’t enough for her?”

There’s definitely a smile on Cas’ face now, “Apparently not.”

“Kids, man,” Dean shrugs.

“Well, I suppose this caused me to reflect,” Cas continues, “I obviously have no letterman jacket to give to you—”

Dean interrupts, “Woah, if anyone’s giving anyone a letterman jacket it’s gonna be me.”

Cas rolls his eyes, “—obviously neither of us has a letterman jacket to give the other, but I was given to understand that mixed tapes were common in courting practices among young people of your generation.”

“Courting practices?” Dean repeats, torn between amusement and wanting to hide his face in his hands. He’s being courted by a former angel who has actually thought about how he would have wooed Dean in the early 90s.

“So I asked Charlie to help me because it is surprisingly hard to make a cassette tape,” he continues, “have you considered updating the sound system in the Impala?”

Dean glares, “Really, Cas?”

He shakes his head and grins, “I suspected as much. Charlie was all too happy to help me actually produce the tape. When I told her what I wanted to do she responded with, what she referred to as a ‘velociraptor screech’, which actually bore very little resemblance to the vocalizations of a velociraptor. Charlie helped me with the mechanics, but I chose the music and I, uh, wrote the note.”

They stare at one another for a moment. Cas shuffles on his feet again, and Dean is held in thrall, overwhelmed by the gesture of it all, by all the things that Cas said in that note, by the contours of his face, by the fact that Cas is here with Dean, and, if what he said is true, always will be. It’s a heady feeling, makes Dean’s eyes sting and his throat tighten.

“Did you, uh, like it?” Cas finally asks uncertainly.

That’s apparently all Dean needs to move.

“Cas, that was the cheesiest,” he takes a step forward, “corniest,” he’s in Cas’ space, “dorkiest,” he pulls Cas into his chest so that they are flush together, and Cas freezes for a moment in the warm embrace of Dean’s arms, “sweetest fucking thing that anyone has ever done for me in my entire fucking life.”

Cas licks his lips and hesitantly brings his arms to wrap around Dean’s waist, “So you liked it, then?”

“I fucking loved it,” Dean swears into the warm, tanned skin of Cas’ neck. He kisses him just beneath his ear, “Thank you.”

The final bit of tension in Cas’ shoulders melts away, he rubs a soothing circle against Dean’s side, “I meant all that I said,” he assures, pressing a kiss into Dean’s hair.

Dean buries his flushing face more firmly into Cas’ neck, “No song has yet been written in a human tongue that could encapsulate the way that I feel for you.”

Dean’s eyes burn and he holds Cas tighter.

“Nothing could ever come close to expressing what you have given to me,” he pulls them apart so that Dean is forced to look at him, wide, watery eyes and all, “all that I feel,” Cas wipes his thumbs against Dean’s cheekbones, catching the tears, “when I am with you.”

“Cas,” Dean tries, voice thick.

“I love you, Dean Winchester,” he says with such warmth in his eyes and voice that Dean feels that he’s drowning in it. Cas leans forward and he presses their mouths together. It’s gentle, slow, and Dean feels it from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes. It’s like sunlight, warming him all over, deep into the core of him. He’s breathing heavily, shaking, overcome.

When they come up for air, Cas rests their foreheads together, holding Dean’s shaking fingers in his own steady ones, cradling them against his chest. Dean can feel Cas’ heartbeat against his knuckles.

“What do you want, Dean?” he asks, voice rough, but tone so, so tender. Dean could say he wanted to go on a picnic, and Cas would walk out of this room and pack a damn basket without a second’s hesitation.

Dean knows he could ask for anything, anything at all, and what comes out of his mouth is heartfelt, “Lie down with me?”

Cas smiles, presses a kiss against Dean’s lips, “Of course.”

He pulls Dean gently by their linked hands and settles him down on the bed. He undresses Dean reverently, carefully. He removes Dean’s shoes and his shirt, he undoes his belt, and slides off his jeans, he takes of Dean’s boxers, freeing his slight erection. Cas brushes a hand through Dean’s hair and kisses his mouth, soft and lingering. Then Cas undresses himself, quickly, purposefully, while Dean watches. He has tan lines from running and working in the garden: the toasty brown of his torso ends just below his belly button, and a swathe of milky skin extends to just above his knees. When they are both naked, Cas settles onto the bed, turning on his side to face Dean, who reaches out for him.

They’ve had sex before, and it’s awesome, every time, because it’s Dean and it’s Cas and they’re together, which is inherently awesome. How could it be anything else? Even when Dean accidentally trips over his own jeans while giving a strip tease, and face plants into the bedframe and Cas has to bandage his head in between some awkward explanation to Sam, even when one or the other of them is too tired to get it up, even when Cas says something that makes Dean laugh hysterically right when things are getting hot and heavy. It’s always awesome.

Cas asked Dean what he wanted, and all Dean wants right now is to be close to Cas, to feel him, to know he’s there.

When they comes together, it’s slow touches and kisses. It’s Dean tracing the shape of Cas’ body: his face and his shoulders, his back, his stomach. It’s Cas laying worshipful kisses, gentle and wet against Dean’s skin, interspersed with endearments. He presses them against Dean’s eyelids, his collarbone, his chest. Cas works Dean into hardness, slow and steady strokes of his hand around Dean’s cock that send heat, electricity running through his nerves, coiling low in his belly. Dean does the same for Cas. The first touch of their cocks together, hot, velvety skin and pulsing heat, is almost too much for Dean. Cas twines their fingers together, working over them both, climbing to that precipice together. Cas’ mouth is warm against Dean’s, his tongue smooth and wet. They’re sweating; Dean’s eyes burn, their hearts beat frantically. Dean can’t look away and Cas can’t either, they watch each other, eyes locked. They jump over the edge together and when they come down from that high, sticky and sated, Dean has tears in his eyes, running down his cheeks. He takes shuddering breaths, while Cas pulls him close, wraps him tight and safe in the circle of his arms, and presses kisses to the top of his head.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, “shhhh.”

He hums a song that Dean doesn’t know but he feels the love in it down to the very marrow of his bones.

Dean has to work his mouth several times before he’s able to get anything out past a shaky sob, but he finally manages, with his eyes closed tight, and Cas’ heartbeat just beneath his ear, “I love you, too, Cas.”

Cas tightens his hold on Dean, pulls him closer, as close as he can. It hurts a little bit, but Dean doesn’t mind.

“I know, Dean,” he sounds so sure, so certain, “I know.”

*

Dean doesn’t keep the twenty-third cassette tape with the others. He keeps it and Cas’ note in his room, in the top drawer of his desk, next to a picture of his mom.

When a month later, Dean decides to make good on his Mark of Cain bucket list and take a nice long vacation, he makes sure to move the tape to the car. The Carolinas should be fucking gorgeous this time of year. It’s just him and Cas on the road; Sam is gonna meet them at Myrtle Beach next week (“get all the loud sex out of the way before I show up, please.” Dean makes no promises). Dean loads their duffels in the trunk just after dawn, stores some snacks and the cooler in the back seat. Cas brings two steaming cups of coffee for the road. Dean starts the Impala and smiles at Cas, who is still a little bleary eyed.

It’s the twenty-third tape that Dean pushes into the tape deck just before they pull out of the garage. Cas smiles at Dean and takes his hand. They hit the road to the sound of a love song.

*

Cas’ mixtape for Dean

1. “Lucky” Jason Mraz & Colbie Caillat 2. “We Found Love” Rihanna 3. “Shake it Off” Taylor Swift. 4. “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” The Beatles 5. “I’ll Make Love to You” Boyz II Men 6. “Can’t Help Falling In Love” Elvis Presley 7. “Can’t Fight This Feeling” REO Speedwagon 8. “What Makes You Beautiful” One Direction 9. “Just You 'N’ Me” Chicago 10. “You Make Me Feel So Young” Frank Sinatra 11. “A Thousand Years” Christina Perri

#deancas #destiel #mixtape feels #sometimes I write fic #because this relevant again and I have feels

[k1d1c4rus]

what era are the cboyz in? i'm struggling to imagine which look each character has xD. i'd also like to ask what your personal fave era of the dcd2 boys are lol

okayyyy this is interesting bc it's set in present day but I imagine the boys looking how they did at their ages in the fic. so:

21 y/o patrick

26 y/o pete:

20 y/o joe

25 y/o andy

the continuity gets a little funky w the other boyz but here's a general visual moodboard for what they r looking like as i write them:

your second question may have to wait for another post bc I have reached my image allowance for this one but!!!!!! I will answer never fear. for more visuals u can check out this post where u can see some of the cboyz pinterest board <33

#hope this is helpful #yes prodom andy has luscious long hair and little wire rimmed glasses thats the point #honey answers #cboyz #clandestine boyz #fic lore #also joe's hair is bleached !!!!!

[decaydanceredacted]

rereading gabe's chapter of clandestine boyz and GOD i wish that were me . when will gabe fuck my throat bc i didn't pay my rent </3

.

#gs #yeah... #co signed because that was some real shit you just said

[k1d1c4rus]

I think maybe someone has already said this (it might be been you actually) but I was listening to the song Hot To Go this morning and like it's just sooooooooooooo cboyz patrick vibes omg. I'm just picturing a montage of cboyz patrick with this song in the background. So true.

someone has said it and it was in fact me but that doesn't mean it isn't still true 🥰 in fact in honor of this I started assigning the Boyz to chappell roan songs:

Red Wine Supernova - travtrick fr

After Midnight - peteeeeeee

Coffee - (ignore the lyrics not quite fitting with andy being straightedge) this is trohley fr

Casual - pete and patrick after they SPOILERS start fucking-outside-work-but-not-dating

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl - bilvy maybe.....

HOT TO GO! - trick <3

My Kink is Karma - trohley but probs bc they r the only broken up couple lol but also joe would be bitter enough for this

Picture You - trohley again ??? too many breakup songs. tell me what u think

Kaleidoscope - this one is boring I always skip it. opening to the floor.

Pink Pony Club - most would instinctively say Trick but actually this is wet pathetic mommy issues whore joe

Naked in Manhattan - wentzporta !! I invite u to listen and imagine

California - truly like any of them <3 the running away from home moving to LA and becoming a gay pornstar of it all

Guilty Pleasure - peterick. feels like pornography watching you try on jeans. good at below the belt. learned it on the internet. some good girls do bad things too. likeee

NONE 🚫🚫🚫🚫 of them get femininomenon because they are cis men. don't fucking start with me. Pete Wentz doesn't deserve a feminist anthem

#honey answers #cboyz #clandestine boyz #i love boys that r girls i love girls that r boys but truly none of the cboyz are there #pet peeve is ppl calling their fave heterosexual middle aged grown men lesbians #like try again babe!!! that's actually exactly not what that is

[k1d1c4rus]

what are petes thoughts towards travie rn in cboyz? like, they're besties and coworkers and shit, but now travie is like totally picking up the guy pete is into, but also its not like pete has tried to pick patrick up himself, and he's just kind of being an asshole instead. to what degree does petes possessiveness exist in cboyz?

pete is like. mad but knows he's got no right to be mad. he's more mad that travie hasn't outright told him that he's seeing patrick and pete's just kind of having to. pick it up from the context clues. pete is very much like "im mature he can tell me he's seeing patrick like its not like I'm gonna FREAK OUT or GO CRAZY like I'm MATURE it's FINE" but is absolutely lying to himself and travie knows this much which is why he hasn't told him outright.

pete is also like a 100% possessive delusional believer in long term fate and destiny I truly believe he's like this sucks right now but the universe has promised patrick to me and we are fated to be together in the end. his possessiveness is just that strong .

#honey answers #cboyz #clandestine boyz

[k1d1c4rus]

gay supporter would be lost mary's #1 fan like u just know his pockets are full of dead vapes. what do u think his fave flavour is lmk in the comments

#is lost mary a thing in the us #cboyz #clandestine boyz #honey writes

[k1d1c4rus]

can we possibly get an update on how the next cboyz chapter is going? no rush, take ur time writing it! just curious where its at in the writing process, if its almost done or barely started or what

she's like 60% there. thank u (and all of u lol) for being respectful and patient tbh I know I'm kinda taking the piss but I got my first big boy job in jan and all sorts of bullshit has gone down with it since lol. i have the bones I have the plot I have a lottttt of filling in to do but it is definitely over halfway there. ktf xojehoney

#honey answers #cboyz #clandestine boyz #yeah like genuinely I'm v grateful u are all nice and i dont get annoying anons like the indirects on twt lolll #luvs ya