I’ve been waiting for someone to put these two photos together!
Serial Killer Mcfassy?
Shirtless assassin Mcfassy?
Street Criminal Mcfassy?
THE CHOICES NEVER END
I take mine shaken, with lots of UST stirred into the mix. It’s heavenly.
how about El Mariachi McFassy?
FassAvoy sketch. I’m making a color version of the drawing.
Why do you look sad?
WELCOME TO MCFASSY, THE LAND OF CROSSOVERY AWESOMENESS
“Freak, seriously… stop it. I have to kill this guy. I am so not letting you have anymore weed.”
Brandon gave him a red eyed leer and lunged for the zip on Wesley’s jacket, again. Wesley made a very annoyed huff as he resorted to slapping Brandon’s hands away. Brandon was not to be put off though. He got his hands on Wesley’s jacket and yanked the zipper down, shoving his hands into Wesley’s armpits and rubbing his thumbs over Wesley’s nipples.
“Jesus Christ!” Wesley squealed as Brandon’s lips attached themselves to his neck. “Seriously… stop. Come on. I’ll miss my window of opportunity…”
“Oh well…” came the rough whisper, right before teeth scraped over Wesley’s ear.
He whined and wriggled, blood coming up as all the handling began to get him going. He wanted more handling but not until the business was done. Besides they’d make too much noise and as they’d broken into this house, it might a bit hard to explain them shagging in the third floor front room when the residents returned. Not that Brandon probably couldn’t, but he still didn’t want to miss this chance.
“Freeeeaaak… shit, come on… I won’t be able to see straight.”
“Noo, come onnnn… you just want me to miss so you can stay and do more weed.”
Brandon smiled unapologetically and shoved his tongue down Wesley’s throat. Wesley growled and gave a good shove, catching Brandon off balance. Brandon stumbled back with a slightly dazed look to his face. Wesley stepped back against the wall, zipped up and clutched the neck of his jacket tightly. He stuck his chin out defiantly and scowled.
“Right, no fucking till I kill this guy. Seriously.”
Brandon grinned and licked his lips.
“I like it when you fight.”
“How much of that shit did you smoke?”
“It was the brownies.”
Wesley huffed out a laugh and gingerly made his way past Brandon to the window. He squinted out and picked up the rifle that was propped against the wall.
“Thought I tasted chocolate.”
Wesley hefted the rifle into position and looked out of the scope and onto the canal. There wasn’t much traffic this time of day so his target was fairly simple to spot.
“No molesting me for the next five minutes.”
“You’ve never needed five minutes before.”
Wesley took a calming breath and carefully sighted. The boat motored forward slowly, this line of sight gradually clearing.
“I’m starting without you,” Brandon purred.
“How is that different from any other day?”
Wesley groaned as he registered the sound of a zip being pulled down.
“You are impossible, Freak. Seriously.”
“Who’s going to finish first, little virgin?”
Wesley didn’t even shake his head. That would throw off his aim. He grinned at the little groans he heard. Those and the rough rustle of skin on skin.
He gave a firm squeese of the trigger and let out the breath he was holding. It was a short count for the distance then he watched as the target collapsed among a flurry of screaming tourists. Wesley inhaled deeply and turned, just as Brandon came all over the front of his jacket.
“Ugh, you are so gross!” Wesley laughed. “I should make you lick that all off!”
Brandon chuckled. He grinned as he zipped back up and licked his lips.
“Good idea,” he said as he fell to his knees.
(photo from pearlo)
James is saying you kinda made him feel a bit old [on set]. He’s like, ‘All these young kids doing their thing…’ (x)
We demand video footage of Mac and Fass being dorks together!
“Wes, stand still.”
“I want to take your picture.”
“Come on, Brandon…”
Brandon moved him closer to the light and turned him this way and that until he was happy.
“Can we go after this?”
Wesley was tired. He hated these parties and only did them to find his targets. No luck tonight though. No luck made him cranky and pouty.
“Get your hands out of your pockets.”
“Fuck you, Brandon.”
Wesley huffed but moved one of his hands to slide up his under his jacket. Immediately the flash popped. He was pleased to note that still worked. He yawned then and leaned against the wall. Brandon slithered up tightly against him.
“You look like a bored boy toy.”
“I am a bored boy toy. And a tired one. Let’s gooooo.”
Brandon winked and stole a swift kiss.
“I’ll make you a cocoa.”
“Ok, just don’t put a roofie in it. I’ll probably fall asleep on you anyway.”
Brandon laughed and kissed him again.
You are not alone, Charles always says,
his fingertips a whisper across Erik’s ribs.
Erik stares up at the ceiling,
already planning how to escape Charles’ soft eyes and his soft hands and his suffocating kindness.
That’s not for you to decide.
Lovely. I love everything about this, from the composition to the chess motif to the coloring to the ethereal, sad, dream-like quality to it.
I also like that we can’t see Erik’s eyes. I’m not sure if I’m reading too much into this, but it makes me think of the way Erik is so single-mindedly obsessed with Shaw, and he can’t really look at Charles - he can’t let himself be distracted, be weak - so he looks at the ceiling instead, and is blind to all the rest.
I also like how Charles’ line is much straighter than Erik’s?
And then they had sex.
A sharp rap at the door caused Valentin to jump a bit. He was antsy with anticipation and it took every effort for him not to leap from his chair and fling open the door. As it was he flung open the door, breathless, cheeks burning with hope and want.
“Herr Doktor Jung…” it was nearly a prayer on his lips.
Carl removed his hat and grinned.
“Yes, my friend. May I come in?”
Valentin flushed and stepped aside.
“Please. I’ve looked forward to seeing you again.”
No sooner had Valentin ushered Carl in and closed the door, he felt himself seized in strong arms and dragged into a searing kiss. Valentin clutched desperately at his coat until they parted for air.
“I’ve missed you so…” Valentin said, resting his head on Carl’s shoulder.
“And I you, my little love.”
Carl held him a moment, then kissed him tenderly on the forehead, stepping back.
“Let me see you.”
Valentin took his hat and coat, setting them neatly on the chair. He suddenly feet very underdressed in only his shirtsleeves. He liked that feeling, especially when Carl looked at him so.
“Do I not look alright?” He nervously licked his lips.
“You look like a banquet to a starving man.”
Carl strode forward and seized him again, lifting him with surpassing ease. Valentin moaned softly as Carl carried him through to his bedroom.
“Will you eat me, starving man?” Valentin whispered into Carl’s neck.
“I will swallow you whole my dearest red riding hood,” he growled, settling Valentin back against the pillows. He straightened and threw his jacket to the side, heedless of where it fell.
Valentin quivered under Carl’s heated gaze. Oh how he wanted to be devoured whole.
“Show me,” he said.
Carl smiled at him and ran his thumb over his moustache, neatening it. He carefully removed his glasses and set them on table next to Valentin’s bed.
“As you command.”
Carl eagerly fell upon Valentin, lips and hands everywhere at once. Valentin cried out when Carl’s teeth nipped savagely down his neck but pleaded for more. He pleaded for more when Carl’s fingers began to tease under his shirt. He pleaded until Carl almost brutally wrenched him free of it.
“Will you eat me now?” Valentin breathed.
“No, my dearest. Not yet…”
Carl stroked and kissed every inch of exposed skin, licked each freckle, worshipped every part, until Valentin was sobbing and writhing beneath him.
“Please Carl… please… ”
“As you command.”
Carl swiftly undid the buttons of Valentin’s trousers and summarily shoved them down his thighs. He moaned at the sight of Valentin’s cock popping free of his clothing.
“You are beyond beautiful,” he moaned as he bent to take it fully into his mouth.
Valentin wound his fingers in Carl’s hair, crying out in need. He was so overheated he could barely stand it. Carl’s mouth was a wild, forbidden pleasure. His ruin and his most deep desire. He could not stop himself from pushing up into that most perfect and decadent heat and Carl did not stop him. In truth, Carl simply swallowed him down further. Valentin could scarcely endure the pleasure.
“Yes… yes… devour me… oh!”
Valentin peaked, thrashing wildly. Carl held him down fast, his large hands firmly gripping his hips. Valentin could feel him swallowing and moaned. It was growing to be too much for him to bear. He collapsed back into the pillows, gasping out Carl’s name still gently pulling at his hair. Carl carefully let Valentin free of his lips, kissing the tip of his spent member with great reverence. He pulled Valentin up into his arms and kissed him again, teasing his tongue into Valentin’s mouth so he could taste himself. Valentin sucked on it greedily, pulling on Carl’s shirt. He made an unhappy noise when Carl pulled away from him.
“Let me get you out of your shoes and trousers, my beauty. I want another helping of you.”
Valentin laughed and began wriggling out of his clothes, eager for another go.
THESE TWO, I CAN”T
THIS SHIP WILL SAIL THE SEA OF MY HEART FOREVER AND YOU WILL NEVER STOP IT!
YOU’LL BE SAFE IN MY HEART AND MY HEART WILL GO ON AND ON…
Stop laughing at your patient, Jung. You’re the one who prescribed physical activity in the first place.