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  1. Rec 16

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    Will cups Nico’s face in his hands. “Hey,” he says, tilting Nico’s face forwards and brushing his hair back in order to study him. Nico’s eyes are a little glassy and the high points of his cheeks are flushed, but he would normally look that way after a heavy makeout session and an almost-blowjob. “Did you drink all of that wine?”

    “Huh?” Nico answers. His eyes are trained on Will’s mouth. Will gently angles Nico’s face towards the coffee table, where the remainder of the wine in question sits.

    “You just opened that bottle tonight, right?” Will means for his tone to convey his concern, but to his own ears it sounds closer to panic.

    “Yes,” Nico kisses the palm of Will’s hand as he turns back to face him, “but I saved some for you.”

    Actually, Will thinks he’ll be holding a grudge against the Merlot for cockblocking him, but that’s not the issue at hand.

    When Nico gets wine drunk and handsy, Will is hit with the realization that his formerly-repressed boyfriend doesn't understand that alcohol and consent do not mix.

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    03 Jun 2026

  2. Rec *

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    "What if Neil hid his phone where his kidnappers wouldn't find it? What if he called Andrew while on his way to Baltimore? What if Andrew had to listen, heart tearing in two, to Neil's journey into his father's basement?"

    Andrew fishes his phone from his pocket, chest emptying itself of air when he sees Neil’s name flash across the display. His hands are shaking as he hits return call, shaking like they haven’t done since he went off his meds, and in many ways the lurch of loss in his gut feels like another kind of withdrawal.

    He thinks the call is about to time out, when, suddenly, connection.

    “Neil,” says Andrew, and it sounds dangerously close to a prayer.

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    17 Feb 2025

  3. Rec *

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    Finally, Neil turns to face Andrew. Andrew keeps looking straight ahead, not letting his expression betray any of his ragged emotions.

    "Remember what I said?" Neil asks quietly.

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    09 Feb 2025

  4. Rec 72

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    Neil should have been more careful. He should have understood that just because he was Neil Josten and not Nathaniel didn’t mean that everyone had forgotten who his father was. He was reminded every day of history he’d much rather forget when he looked in the mirror. He was learning not to hate his eyes, but it had become clear that not everyone shared that sentiment.

    Someone—Neil wasn’t sure who, and frankly, it didn’t matter—retaliated for the death of his father. In a way, Neil supposed his father's death was his own fault. It was supposed to be an evening run, a few miles just to clear his head. He’d been having nightmares, and he decided that this was the healthiest way to process all the information his brain was feeding him. He didn’t expect the evening to turn red with his own blood. It did, though, and Neil emerged with another bullet wound, a few more scars, but most importantly, no more death on his hands.

    He ended up at Wymack's door, banging on it with the hand that wasn't busy stopping blood from exiting his shoulder. "Coach?"

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    09 Feb 2025