dearestblake
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The handcuffs glint invitingly from where Ricky’s kneeling. He’s toed his shoes off to sit on his bed and watch TV, not yet caring to find the keys. He doesn’t hear Ryan as he steps into the room, walking up behind him.
Ryan’s fingers tingle. Maybe he’s still a little high on the power trip from earlier. There’s no one else around this time, no camera. Just him and Ricky, and Ricky’s arms are already out of the question. Ryan’s stomach swoops enticingly and his toes bump the head of the mattress as he walks forward, almost on autopilot.
Aka the one where no-one unlocks Ricky's cuffs once they finish filming the cops video, and Ryan takes advantage.
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Balz arrives at band practice with his new Monroe piercings. Chris' interest is piqued.
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Chris agonises, she should turn Ryan down. He doesn't really know what he's asking for. He’s drunk. He’s still seventeen. But then again, she thinks, he’s not that drunk, and seventeen is close enough. Fuck what she should do. “Alright baby,” Chris cooes, petting over Ryan's hair. “Let’s go upstairs to my room, huh?”
Sometimes inadvertently getting pegged by your band’s older frontwoman is a religious experience, okay ??
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i am a good boy and i will swallow it all by dearestblake
Fandoms: Motionless in White (Band)
18 Dec 2025
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Vinny's his problem, alright? He’s decided today’s the day to do away with his jeans and cargo pants in favour of the world’s tiniest pair of booty shorts. A skimpy red thing with white trim, short enough to give the shorts of the 70s a run for their money.
Justin groans to himself, watching from where he’s sitting in the dirt, propped up against the relative coolness of the bus’ metal exterior. He sips his bottle of water diligently and totally doesn’t watch Vinny trot back out of the bus, the full length of his hairy legs on display. He doesn’t look when Vinny throws himself down into one of their fold out camping chairs, slumping down till he’s comfortable, legs spreading indecently wide. He doesn't stare at the bulge in those tiny red shorts, nope not at all.
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He smells like cigarettes and sweat and hairspray and tiny shitty tour van. If Vinny was the one sucking on fingers, his'd taste like nasty old bass strings, and if he kissed him hard enough he’d taste like whatever shitty gas station energy drink he’d managed to get his hands on. Vinny thinks it’s heaven.
Freshly-joined-Motionless Ricky gets surprise time traveled to his own future. Vinny thinks he's fucking hot.
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why co-emperors if not for sex reasons by dearestblake
Fandom Gladiator (Movies - Scott), Gladiator 2, Gladiator II (2024)
21 Dec 2024
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Ivy is in love with a stripper.
Bookmarked by dearestblake
20 Feb 2026
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IV knelt, his knees aching on the hard wood floor as he waited for Vessel to be ready. His hands were bound loosely behind his back, his shoulders straining as he tried to work some feeling back into them.
The piercing felt heavy on his tongue, a metal ring at the tip that never seemed to fit properly inside of his mouth. As directed he had his tongue sticking out to show it off, drool dripping onto the floor.
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Bookmarked by dearestblake
19 Feb 2026
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“Ivy knows what he wants,” III said instead of a greeting. IV sank down in his seat, his shoulders coming up to his ears.
“Oh, yeah?” II’s eyes flickered over to him slumped in his seat, overly fixated on his mug of tea once he’d pushed his cereal away. “What is it he wants?”
“My puppy wants to fuck your wife.”
“That’s not —” IV started, but he saw the way II’s head tilted upwards, his shoulders stiff as he moved into a more pronounced position. His mouth closed, his eyes dropping.
“And what does he know about my wife?” II’s eyes were sharper than before. The kind of expression that demanded a response, but IV didn’t know what to say or why they were talking about Vessel like that.
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Bookmarked by dearestblake
19 Feb 2026
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IV and II find a new mask.
Bookmarked by dearestblake
19 Feb 2026
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Tell me you guessed my future and it mapped onto your fantasy by spacesix
Fandoms: Sleep Token (Band)
03 Feb 2026
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He lays flat on his back in the mess of his bed, arms folded back behind his head, one leg bent up at the knee, the other draped off the side, brushing lazy patterns into the floor with the toe of his sock. He hadn’t bothered with real pajamas after his shower because his favorite pair were just a little too dirty to reason wearing again — instead settling on a faded t-shirt and the running shorts he’d barely remembered to swipe from his last place before leaving. They sit loose around his hips, hanging too low to keep out the early autumn chill despite the minimized drawstring, but comfortable enough that he should have been resting by now.
Instead, he stares up at the ceiling with eyes half-lidded and dry from trying to sleep and failing. Again. For the nth night in a row.
Bookmarked by dearestblake
18 Feb 2026