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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    "What are you talking about, Hollander?"

    Shane is pressed against Ilya's back, head propped on his hand. One careful finger strokes Ilya's left cheek, then taps twice.

    "I mean the beauty mark."

    Ilya shifts onto his back and looks up at Shane. "I thought you meant the fucking."

    "Don't be a dick." Shane chuckles and swats at his chest lightly. "I want to know the Russian word for beauty mark."

     

    A stolen hour of closeness, seen through the eyes of Ilya Rozanov.

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    17 May 2026

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    “I don't think I can keep pretending I don’t like you anymore.”

    The words barely have time to sink in before Ilya fires back, “You don’t like me.”

    Too quick. Too practiced. And not enough to make Shane back off.

    “Yeah, I do. I think I like you maybe a little too much.”

    Forget the band-aid. Shane is ripping him open and doesn't even realize it.

    After two months of complete silence that follow after Shane runs out on Ilya, they finally get to talk to each other in Tampa Bay during the All-Star game weekend.

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    17 May 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 56

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    ***SPOILERS FOR GOOD OMENS SEASON 3***

    People had their ideas about the afterlife. Some people thought souls came back in different forms. Other people thought souls turn back into pure atoms. Others shrugged and went, 'Eh, nothing, probably'. Those people, Anthony suspected, had yet to lose the love of their life and didn't have the desperate hope that they might reunite.

    In a world without a Heaven or a Hell, there were no concepts of pearly gates or flaming archways. No angels, no demons. Made the post-mortem options limited, not that anyone knew that.

    Despite being a man of science, Anthony wasn't so bound by the scientific method that he couldn't indulge in a little wishful thinking that he might see Asa again somehow, some way, in some fantasy world.

    Later at his funeral, their friends and loved ones agreed with him. They, too, hoped he and Asa were together somewhere beyond the stars Anthony loved so well. Somehow. Some way.

    If only they knew how bang-on they were.

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    17 May 2026

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Anthony J. Crowley isn’t up to much these days.
    In fact, you could almost say his days as a rockstar are pretty much behind him. Rotting in bed all day, with half-written songs plaguing him and no lyrics to speak of, everything points to his career being over for good.
    That is until Maggie, his manager, claims to have found him the perfect lyricist to get him out of his slump. And what better way to get the creative juices flowing than spending a whole month together in a secluded cottage on the Isle of Skye?
    Provided Crowley’s attempts at making the man run for the hills aren’t successful…

    *

    “You wrote these lyrics,” Crowley repeated just to make sure he’d understood correctly. “The lyrics about sucking dick. You wrote them.”
    The stranger wrinkled his nose, a blush appearing on his rounded cheeks. “Well, it’s actually meant to be an exploration of taste and touch as a way to connect with another person, as well as a metaphor for–”
    “Sucking dick,” Crowley completed for him.
    “Mmh,” the man hummed noncommittally, lips pursed in both annoyance and embarrassment.

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    07 Apr 2026

  5. Public Bookmark *

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    Crowley has just moved into his Mayfair apartment and finds a postcard addressed to the previous tenant. With no return address, he's left to collect and read the mysterious A.Z.F.'s adventures across Europe, where he hunts for bizarre bibles and rates ridiculously expensive wine in his free time. The question is: How will A.Z.F. react when Crowley finally gets his return address and writes back?

    ---

    It was different, he knew, to accidentally read someone else’s postcard versus intentionally perusing one in place of good newspaper over coffee. Crowley decided he was allowed that indecency, to balance out the good deed of safeguarding the mail in the first place.

    He kicked his feet up onto his desk, scooped up the takeaway coffee that was brought around by their newest intern, and settled in to read some of the most densely crowded handwriting he’d ever laid eyes on.

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    07 Apr 2026