eternalsojourn

What you will find here:
Porn (mostly M/M) --
Fannish things (Inception, BBC Sherlock, Game of Thrones, whatever else takes my fancy) --
Other shiny things that catch my eye. Who I Am: a writer of (mostly porny) fanfiction. You'll find my stuff on LJ, AO3, and Dreamwidth under the name eternalsojourn.

Ask me
Archive

eternalsojourn

What you will find here:
Porn (mostly M/M) --
Fannish things (Inception, BBC Sherlock, Game of Thrones, whatever else takes my fancy) --
Other shiny things that catch my eye. Who I Am: a writer of (mostly porny) fanfiction. You'll find my stuff on LJ, AO3, and Dreamwidth under the name eternalsojourn.

Ask me
Archive

flatbear:

Victor Victoria, 1982.

My sexuality is Julie Andrews in Victor Victoria.

(Source: lejazzhot)

hash-tag-whatever:

Merry: confused awe

Frodo: confused awe

Sam: confused awe

Pippin: finally I’m getting the respect i deserve from these peasants 

(Source: dumbledoreisabamf)

alekzmxxx:

Steven Daigle and Trevor Knight

another-concrete-r0se:

themindsetofimperfection:

afrogirlwonder:

Relevant

I’ve been waiting for someone to make this a gif

damn near 30 years ago and still relevant

(Source: matildaswormwood)

Queen Nicki dominant, prominent

(Source: all-nickiminaj)

clairedekat:

being in college and trying to understand all these psat jokes 

image

Being more than a decade out of university and reading all these educational woes on social media.

merripestin:

Look, we have established definitions of what women are attracted to. These are tried-and-true models that are absolutely guaranteed to make women receptive to being fucked while also making men feel powerful. They’re easy to make and we surely churn out enough of them that you…

Oh hi, Arthur! I’ve missed you, you dapper motherfucker.

(Source: claracivry)

starksfell:

i have this problem where i isolate myself from civilization and then get upset because i feel lonely

That’s everyone on the planet. That’s the first thing I learned in my Buddhist meditation group. The second is that, despite your efforts, that isolation is a fallacy.

Thirty-one Days of HalloweenThe Addams Family
↳ Morticia Addams + Excellent Parenting Skills

sjaejones:

movie:

Addams Family Values (1993) follow movie for more movie quotes and scenes

Wednesday Addams my hero forever and forever.

sjaejones:

movie:

Addams Family Values (1993) follow movie for more movie quotes and scenes

Wednesday Addams my hero forever and forever.

castielsteenwolf:

pr1nceshawn:

The evolution of Halloween costumes for girls…

this is really important

A porny Arthur/Eames ficlet for lolahardy

This one’s for lolahardy, who prompted this:

Porny gif here

PROMPT: Established relationship, age difference too! Arthur, like the gif I sent, enticing Eames before his bath to do dirty things to him because Eames is resisting. Why he’s resisting I leave up to you. This is so vague and I’m sorry. The gif was so Arthur and I just want some age!kink!

***

“Eames!”

“I’m doing the washing up, is it urgent?” Eames called from the kitchen. He was glad the tub faucet had stopped running because he didn’t fancy trying to be heard over that; as it was he wasn’t sure he was much more than a muffled shout from the bathroom.

“Eames, come here, please!” Arthur didn’t sound like he was dying or anything, but he was pretty adamant. Eames dried his hands on a tea towel, cast a baleful glance over the rest of the dishes, and walked to the bathroom door.

He knocked lightly. “Y’alright in there, love?” He winced at himself. It was endearments like that that sent him down that ill-advised path months ago. He was meant to be a rock, a stable home for Arthur to finish up his final university classes without the pressure of a full-time job. He’d promised Cobb and Mal he’d take good care of their little protege, and he had more than his share of guilt for just how liberally he’d taken the phrase “take care of”.

“No, I just. I’d rather not explain through the door. Just come in, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Well used to Arthur’s impatience, Eames smirked. He’d love to just walk in there, but. “Arthur, we discussed this. I don’t think it’s appropriate and we agreed we’d stop this nonsense.”

“Oh for God’s sake. Eames, you going to help me or what?”

Not really believing Arthur had a situation he couldn’t handle himself — ever — Eames nonetheless closed his eyes and turned the handle, shaking his head at himself already.

His eyes still closed, Eames held onto the door handle and took one step into the room. He heard the splash of water and despite his best intentions, cracked one eye open.

Then he snapped them both open because Arthur was biting his lip and squeezing his eyes shut like he was in pain.

“Shit, Arthur, you all right?”

Arthur let out a little groan and shifted, feet squeaking a little on the tub. “No, Eames. I’m trying but. I can’t quite…”

Another squeak on the tub as Arthur adjusted again. Eames was halfway across the bathroom already and hadn’t even noticed how he got there. Belatedly he realized he’d already tilted his head to see better where Arthur’s fingers were pressing up into his ass.

“Jesus Christ, Arthur. I can’t. You shouldn’t have called me in here. We can’t keep doing this.”

“My fingers don’t go very deep. Ffffuck. It feels good but it’s not like yours. I just…”

Arthur planted his feet on the edge of the tub and thrust his hips upwards, trying to jam his fingers deeper. His cock was laying on his belly, hard and glistening with the tub water, rivulets running upwards over his slender torso towards his clavicle.

Eames swallowed hard.

“Eames, help me, Jesus. Don’t just stand there.”

“Arthur, you’re going to slip and injure something. Stop that.”

“Then help me.”

“All right, all right, just settle back in before you hurt yourself. On the tub I mean. Oh hell.”

Eames stepped forward and helped Arthur ease back down, hooking one of his calves over the tub edge and leaning the other knee on the tub wall. He thought idly that it was useful his sleeves were already rolled up from doing the washing up, then shook his head at himself for getting himself into this again. But Arthur looked up at him with those rich brown eyes and his tongue wetting his bottom lip and Eames was lost, so lost.

He slid his hand over Arthur’s calf, pausing to rub his thumb in soothing circles over Arthur’s knee, before gliding up the soft inside of his thigh. He circled a finger around Arthur’s hole, and sighed at him.

“Arthur, I think the lube you used is water soluble. It’s not doing a very good job, hold on.”

He rummaged through a drawer and pulled out a different bottle of lube. Coating his fingers, he had another moment of questioning his life choices. Cobb and Mal would have him killed if they knew. Killed slowly, if Mal was in charge. He turned back to Arthur whose agitation was gone now that he got what he wanted.

Eames crossed the few steps in a rush and dropped to kiss Arthur filthily, pushing in his tongue and coaxing Arthur to lick back — which he did, with alacrity as always.

Without looking, Eames slid in two fingers in one go and Arthur uttered a groan that had Eames’s cock filling further. It was beginning to get uncomfortable against his trousers but he let it be.

“Stroke yourself, darling. Wank yourself for me while I do this. I want to watch you.”

“O-okay,” said Arthur, breathless. As bossy as he was generally, Eames ordering him around in bed always stole his thunder in the best possible way. It made Arthur compliant, and Arthur always seemed to push for that moment and get disappointed if Eames failed to take charge.

“That’s it, I’m adding another finger now. Fuck yourself up into your fist. It’s all right, I’ll make sure your ass is getting it.”

“Fffuuck,” said Arthur, beginning to lose it. His cockhead was dark pushing up out of his fist and he started to lose his rhythm. Eames added a finger and Arthur moaned, long and dirty and when Eames pushed in as far as he could, Arthur’s strokes got rough and fast before strings burst out, white in the water.

“Out,” said Eames. “I’ll help you dry off. Then get to my bedroom because I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck you till you see stars and your cock is hard again, and if you’re very good I’ll suck you until you come in my mouth.”

Arthur’s eyes went wide; Eames had ordered him about before but never like this, only ever with small instructions, little adjustments to what they were already doing. Eames swallowed again, preparing an apology.

“Yes. Please, Eames. Fuck me so hard.”

Arthur was standing in the tub and Eames smacked his bum. “Out,” he said. Arthur smiled.

***END***

deducingbbcsherlock:

My first thought when I saw that scene was that he was practicing dancing to it just to make sure it was…well, a “danceable” composition, if that makes sense. Checking the tempo, feel, rhythm, etc. This is his gift to John and Mary and, just like his speech, he’s terrified of screwing it up.

As to your other questions…ugh. UGH. That whole “I taught him conversation” at the end of TSoT conversation just wrecks me. I mean, this has just happened:

image

image

Sherlock’s true feelings are briefly written all over his face, and John absolutely cannot deal. He looks down, has a second of wait, what? glances back up to confirm he’s seeing what he thinks he’s seeing, and yeah. He can’t look. He can’t face those feelings.

Sherlock sees that, and he gives John an out. He tells them to go dance. Mary (very considerately) asks “what about you?”, they joke about there being “limits,” and then the tutoring conversation happens.

Here’s how I read it (lining up the dialogue with the gifs):

SHERLOCK: “Don’t worry Mary, I have been tutoring him.”

image

JOHN: “He did you know…”

image

JOHN: “Baker Street behind closed curtains.”

I put a delay on the last frame. It lines up with John’s “closed curtains” comment. See how Sherlock’s kind of trying to laugh along until John makes that joke? He glances at John with a confused, almost hurt expression here.

John, meanwhile, has gone into full-on bro mode. It’s his way of utterly denying what he’s just read on Sherlock’s face. His shield is fucking UP. I love John Watson dearly, but I have a hard time watching him here, because he’s truly being a dickhead.

JOHN: “Mrs. Hudson came in one time.”

image

JOHN: “Don’t know how those rumors got started.”

image

A careless glance at Sherlock, a dismissive joke about their dance lessons and years of rumors about their relationship, a flippant laugh (seriously, listen to the way he laughs there, it’s SO not his normal laugh)

brush it off, never meant a thing, face the wife, face AWAY from Sherlock, don’t look back don’t look back don’t look back

image

He gets super affectionate with Mary. And yes, I know, it’s their wedding, they’re dancing, they’ve just learned she’s pregnant. But we’ve seen John act affectionate with Mary and this is different. John might as well have NO HOMO stamped on his forehead here.

He. Can’t. Deal.

And Sherlock knows it.

image

Did he imagine, after their lessons, maybe getting the chance to dance with John at the reception?

image

Possibly. Probably. He did just tell Janine (and us viewers) that he loves to dance and has been “living in hope for the right case.” Well, he’d solved quite a case this evening.

image

And after all, John had danced with him before during their lessons. Maybe Sherlock thought John was comfortable with it – comfortable enough with his own sexuality, whatever he considers that to be – to dance with his friend at his wedding reception, his best friend, his best man. It doesn’t mean anything unless it means something.

 image

But no, that was “behind closed doors.” Can’t let anyone see that, nope. That’s how those rumors got started. Those silly, meaningless rumors that meant absolutely nothing, just everyone in the world reading too much into this totally platonic friendship, right mate?

image

Maybe they could’ve danced in front of everyone, because it wouldn’t mean anything. Except John read the real meaning on Sherlock’s face, and nope, not gonna happen now, can’t face that, can’t deal, shields up.

image

Because it would have meant something to Sherlock. Just like it did “behind closed doors.” It means everything. And he doesn’t care who knows, not anymore.

image

But John cares. Right, Sherlock? John cares who knows. He cares what people think. It really bothers you. What? What people say.

image

It still bothers John. He can’t deal with Sherlock’s feelings, and he can’t deal with his own. John’s shield is up and who knows if he’ll ever lower it again. And Sherlock accepts that, and he respects it, and he does the only thing he can do now.

image

Shields up.

Well. I didn’t mean for this meta to happen. Time to go cry into my soup.

I’ve read this before but it just ripped my heart out again. I simply cannot see how the homosexual content here could be construed as “played for laughs”. Did anyone laugh at this scene? Could anyone laugh, even though John’s making a joke, upon seeing Sherlock’s face here?

"Storytelling is a political act. It’s making sense of the world and ourselves, and like every other kind of sense-making, it’s as political as it is personal and vice-versa. There is no distinction to be made between the political and the personal. Writing of any kind is political. It’s claimsmaking regarding reality and how to interpret it. Because whenever we’re faced with these things, we’re faced with fundamental truths regarding how creation makes and unmakes the world, regarding whose voices are amplified and whose are lost, between who gets to speak and who is literally silenced."

- sunny moraine in 'the politics have always been there' (via swanjolras)

(Source: budoorwaqamal)