okay but for real this time, hi I'm still here 💌

Reminder that I follow from @adecentsizedcabbage so if you see a pretty little cabbage in your notes, that's me! And I love you <3

How about this for a prompt idea;

Send me a song you want me to use as a prompt, and I'll listen, read the lyrics, and come up with something for you!

E.g. You, dear reader, friend, follower, whoever you may be, send me the song Back to Black by Amy Winehouse, I listen, choose some lyrics, and use them in any length of fic! Easy as

Has anyone ever written one of those cheesy ass Christmas movie stories about Harringrove? You know, the type where a big shot big city gal for some reason goes out into a small town to sell a house she inherited and then falls in love with some guy living there?

I want a fic like that for Harringrove!!! I'd watch those movies endlessly if they were gay

Any fic recs?

What... If Billy was a boxer 😳

Also some-fucking-how I missed that my very first Harringrove fic has gotten OVER 10k views???? That's fucking insane, I'm so ❤️💝💘💖💜💗💓💞💕💛💌♥️💋❣️💟 normal about it

He's… hard. He shouldn't be- he really shouldn't be, because he's standing in the men's changing room at the pool, in the middle of his shift. Hard.

Steve had shown up, as if his own pool isn't empty at home right now, and he wore a white tee and his swimming trunks, which is fine, it's okay for the rich fuck to be out here, completely fine. Billy might be the king, but he doesn't own this place even if he acts like it all the time.

Couldn't that gorgeous brunette have chosen a different day? Surely he doesn't know Billy's work schedule, but really, why even come here when he has that fucking pool at his fucking mansion.

Everything was fine at first, Steve chatted with some pretty girls and Billy wasn't jealous. Steve was nice and dry and clothed and not paying Billy any mind, and Billy was not jealous.

Then Steve reminded Billy of high school, of the locker rooms, of the boys showers, when he took off his shirt and reminded Billy of how his moles are everywhere, like a constellation across pale skin.

And it only got worse once Steve got into the pool and his hair got wet, clinging to his pretty boy face. Billy didn't last long upon his throne before very calmly walking to the men's locker room and stepping into one of the showers.

Did he get even prettier, somehow? He's gained some weight, gotten harrier, but Billy didn't really think he was into all that, but with Steve? It felt… unavoidable. Inevitable.

He turns on the cold water and gasps loudly as it clashes with his warm, sun kissed skin. What the fuck is he going to do?

Would you read

A mafia au taking place in some fictional city (I'm not American so fictional it is) in the 1920s? Here's the summary:

Because I've already begun writing it hehe

Another push, another shove. Hatred is the kindling, lust is the flame, and their bodies burn hot together in the locker room alone. Legs spread as they face one another on the bench, yet no eye contact, too personal, too intense. Teeth gritted and shallow breathing between each and every thrust, Steve’s nails digging into Billy’s backside, Billy’s hands grasping at Steve’s ass to gain leverage for him fucking the other. They’re wet from the showers, wet from sweat, wet from pre-come and lube. Neither of them says a thing from start to finish, this isn’t a relationship, it’s a rivalry, and the first to cum is the winner, the loser is left alone to find release on his own.

Was listening to Dolly Parton's "9 to 5" and honestly would DIE for Steve singing it in his morning shower, and Billy, who intended to join him there pauses to listen to his pretty boy sing his heart out

It's probably been done before but

I wanna see Steve and Billy as Sandy and Danny in Grease