Christmas Comment!fics
Merry Christmas, everyone!
Sometimes I write seasonal fics for various events. This Christmas, I thought I’d do something different instead.
I’m taking prompts for ficlets in any of the fandoms listed below. Please have a look at what I will/won’t write for each fandom before making your requests.
How this works:Just leave a comment in this post ( Read more... )
Sometimes I write seasonal fics for various events. This Christmas, I thought I’d do something different instead.
I’m taking prompts for ficlets in any of the fandoms listed below. Please have a look at what I will/won’t write for each fandom before making your requests.
How this works:Just leave a comment in this post ( Read more... )
be my high school scandal
“You seemed pretty cosy over there,” Jim says, raising an eyebrow.
“I was hoping for embarrassing high school stories,” Blair says.
“Got any?” Jim asks.
“You’ll never get me to talk,” Blair says.
Jim gives him a long, sultry look over the top of his glass of punch.
“But don’t let that stop you trying,” Blair adds, a touch breathlessly.
Jim laughs and holds out his glass to Blair, who takes a cautious sip. “I wonder how many additives go into this,” Blair muses. “Oh, hey, it’s not messing with you or anything, is it?”
“Nope,” Jim says. “I’ll tell you if it does,” he adds, seeing the unconvinced look on Blair’s face. “Stop worrying, Chief. You’re supposed to be enjoying yourself.”
“Right!” Blair says, eyes lighting up. Jim’s suddenly a little worried. “Is it true that you got caught making out with the principal’s daughter - by the principal himself?”
Jim winces.
“Oh, that’s priceless,” Blair says delightedly. “Okay, what about you sneezing all over your date to the prom?”
“I was allergic to her perfume!” Jim says indignantly.
“Okay,” Blair says placatingly. “But what about -”
Jim cuts him off by pulling him in for a deep kiss. Blair squeaks into his mouth. Jim isn’t really one for public displays, and his high school reunion is the last place on earth Blair had expected a declaration of any sort.
“I think,” Jim says, pulling back just slightly, “that I should come keep an eye on you. On what you’re being told.”
Blair breathes a laugh against Jim’s lips. “I don’t think anyone’s going to be telling me stories about your scandalous, sordid past anymore,” he says, ignoring the unsubtle looks they’re getting. “They’ll be too busy quizzing us.”
“Oh?” Jim says, and smirks. “What a tragedy.”
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