hhanon | Round 3 - Return of the Meme

hhanon

Round 3 - Return of the Meme

General Rules

Personal attacks and any kind of abusive trolling, hate speech, or bullying are obviously forbidden. Anon comments violating this rule will be deleted, signed in members will be banned.
If your comment is deleted/screened/frozen and you don't know why, please email the mod at hhanonmeme@gmail.com. (If you notice it happening to your comments and you know they're safe, a quick email for the mod to come and unscreen them would be helpful also).
Prompt posts will close to new prompts at 3,000 comments.

Prompting Rules

One prompt per comment.
Please follow the correct format (see below).
Include trigger warnings in the subject line. Use your discretion and please be considerate.
If your prompt is missing something, such as a subject or a warning, repost it in it’s entirety. It is not enough to reply to your own comment with the missing information. The mod will delete the previous duplicate comment.
Multiple fills of the same prompt by different author!anons are allowed.
If for any reason you start a fill but feel you can't finish the WIP you've created, and if you're happy to let someone finish it for you, put it up for HH Meme Fostering and Adoption.
Prompts for projects other than Horrible Histories (ie. Spy, Gavin and Stacy, Rev, St. Trinian's, the O2 adverts etc., and RPF involving actors from those projects should be posted at the What? They've acted in other things?! post.

Format of Prompts

Put [RPF] before RPF prompts.
For crossover prompts: "[Crossover], HH Character(s)/Other Character(s), [Fandom]"
Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other."
Put [GEN] before GEN prompts, just so you don't get unwanted shipping.
Use appropriate warnings. I'm trusting you all to know what that means.
Don't embed any photos, videos or other media.
Copy and paste links in full; anon comments with active coded links are marked as spam and the mod doesn't switch accounts often enough - it may be a few days before those screened comments are de-screened (see: emailing the mod a heads up if it happens).

Archiving Prompts and Fills

To make the archiving job easier, please drop a link to your fill/unprompted fic here at the fills post.
Nothing here you fancy filling? Take a look at the unfilled prompts archived here or at Round 1 or Round 2.

That's nearly the end of the storia, for onto the scene comes our much loved meme: HAIL TO THE QUEEN OF PROMPTIA.

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Threaded | Flat

From: (Anonymous)

...I need more of them being awesome ok? Plus with their weirder senses of humor I can just picture them getting along which leads to a relationship. Maybe Bobsy and Cliff are researching at the same library and somehow cross paths?

From: (Anonymous)

Dick Turpin, as a highwayman, must've dressed up as a lady needing help to make stagecoaches stop.

James Smith finds this disguise rather attractive.

From: (Anonymous)

Owing to a glitch in the time sewers, James ends up in Georgia England and runs into the Gregory Gang. Appalled that they are not being highway man for a social cause like he is, he decides to teach them a lesson

From: (Anonymous)

Most of the guys have crushes on Martha, but she has a crush on the one member of the cast who has never tried to flirt with her.

From:

balinese-baby.livejournal.com

Drawing the Lines.

Locking his car, Mat glanced furtively up and down the road before he reached up and carefully adjusted his beanie so it was right down on his face. Once he was satisfied that it was on to his liking he turned and made his way across the pavement and up the path to the front door, his eyes fixed on the ground, his gait making him look like he desperately needed the toilet. Reaching the front door, he shoved his hands into his pockets and rifled through them for his key, a sigh escaping from between his pursed up lips as he found them and dragged them out into the cold night air. Entering the house, he paused for a moment and listened carefully for any sound that might signal that his other half was still abroad. Hearing nothing he relaxed, closing and locking the front door behind him before removing his coat and shoes. The coat he hung on the rail, the shoes he picked up and carried up the stairs, placing each foot carefully as he crept up to their bedroom. Ten minutes later he climbed into bed, the relief that Jim hadn’t woken up letting him drift off to sleep much easier than he’d expected to.

Waking up the next morning, he rolled onto his back and yawned loudly, his arms instinctively stretching up and hitting the headboard, his feet doing the same at the other end of the bed. Keeping his eyes closed, he yawned again, he felt good even though there was a little something nagging away in the back of his brain. A snickering sound made him open his eyes. He knew that sound very well, only one person he knew snickered like that. Blinking, he glazed down towards the sound. Knelt there on the bed about level with his knees was Jim, Jim his other half, his cute pixie faced boy, his beloved idiot. Meeting his gaze, Jim giggled again, his amusement written clearly across his face. Wondering just what it was that was he found so funny, Mat pushed himself up onto one elbow and lifted one eyebrow enquiringly. At that Jim bent over and laughed out loud, his arms wrapped tightly around his visibly shaking body. Puzzled Mat sat up and rubbed at his face. His eyes widening in shock as he suddenly remembered what had happened the evening before.

Five minutes later he was stood in the bathroom, his hands gripping tightly onto the sides of the wash basin as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Jim sat on the toilet seat, trying to stifle the giggles and snorts that kept on escaping from between his tightly clenched teeth, and finding it very hard to stop himself grinning like a idiot. Now Mat could remember everything that had happened. The evening before Larry had dared him to shave off his eyebrows and like a fool he’d done it. Jim had warned him often enough not to mix his drinks when he went out with the lads, but did he ever take heed of what he said. When he was with the lads he did the exact opposite, sometimes he thought to prove to the others that he wasn’t under Jim’s thumb like they always hinted he was.

Staring at his reflection, Mat lifted up one hand and traced along the line of where his eyebrow had been and wondered just what he was going to tell people, there was no way he could hide the fact that he’d lost his eyebrows. Getting to his feet, Jim stepped up behind him and snaked his arms around his waist, hugging him close while peppering his back with soft kisses. He might find it funny but he could understand just how awful Mat must be feeling. It was then that he had one of his ideas.

From: (Anonymous)

http://www.bartleby.com/126/55.html

Because I feel like the woman/creature in it could really work for Dick. And the tempting hints of sexuality seem to suit them~.

From: (Anonymous)

...Yeah. The cast are making pornos instead of sketch shows (Oh God, thank christ this is anon). But there are still hijinks and laughter and maybe even a few people falling in love besides~.

From: (Anonymous)

Not quite sure why I'm requesting this, it's just unexpectedly came to my mind.
Don't have anything specifically in mind, so just go with whatever your wonderful brains can come up with!
(I do think we need some more girl/girl action-fic on here!)

From: (Anonymous)

Years ago, possibly around the end of university, Larry had a one night stand with an absolutely stunning man in a bar. Imagine his shock when, on the first day of working on a new show, he comes face to face with that stunning man again.

Preferably a happy ending, but do whatever else you want~.

From: (Anonymous)

There's nothing that Charles loves more than making Cromwell beg.

From: (Anonymous)

...Yep.

From: (Anonymous)

“It’s alright.”

Popella smiles underneath him, leans back against the pillows and spreads her legs like she’s done it a thousand times before (which she probably has… And he will not be saying that out loud because both she and Aeneas could easily have his head upon a pole).

“It’s perfectly simple, Hephaestion…”

Popella smiles all the wider, all the more encouragingly…

“I know that,” he mutters, and slowly draws his chiton over his head – dropping it casually to the side as Popella arches up on her elbows and simply looks “…It’s just my first time, okay? I’m bound to be a little bad at this.”

“You weren’t that bad with me.”

He remains silent.

“And that was your first time ever, so…”

He remains silent, staring awkwardly down at his feet.

“It’ll be alright,” until Popella finally arches up on her elbows again, and interrupts as politely as a person possibly can, “I’ve had all sorts, and at least you’re reasonably attractive. Just take it slow and I’m sure that you’ll be fine.”

…He bites his lip.

“…Sire,” for so long that Popella has to interrupt again, glancing over at Alexander and respectfully dropping her eyes, “it might go easier if you got him ready for it first? He is not used to such things, and I’m not sure if he has enough attraction for the female form to manage it himself.”

And that is faintly true.

“You may have a point,” and Alexander knows it. As he sighs, steps forwards and takes him into those muscular arms that can convince him into just about anything, “and I have made many sacrifices in the course of duty…”

“I am a sacrifice?” He mocks nervously, without bite.

“Hush, Hephaestion,” and then is kissed, so hard and so sweetly that he’s left clutching at Alexander’s shoulders as the rest of the world recedes around them.

It’s a nice sensation.

Has always been a nice sensation.

And so it’s a shock when he’s pushed away, hard and whining for it, and guided back to the pillows – where Popella is still lying with a certain amount of glittering interest in her eyes.

“Now-“ Alexander starts, a smirk starting to curve his lips.

“Alexander,” he has to interrupt, hurriedly and with an awful lot of panic despite the bravely continuing erection, “I don’t know where to go…”

“Honestly,” And Alexander huffs, as ever… But kneels down, cocks a questioning eyebrow at Popella as he raises his fingers and wriggles, “do you mind if I-?”

“Go ahead, sire,” she purrs, eyes still glittering.

…And then gasps, a surprisingly erotic sound, as Alexander slides one finger into her – shifts into a faintly helpful position so that it’s easy for him to bend over and see where they’re so temptingly joined.

“Got it?” And then Alexander breaks the spell, tugging his finger out and drawing back with a faint toss of his hair.

“…I think,” and there’s no other option but to take up position, in between Popella’s thighs as she arches beneath him and gently places her hands on his shoulders, “do I just-?”

“You’ve done this before, Hephaestion,” Alexander says, wearily.

“Not often!”

“I’m Alexander the Great!”

“You’ll be Alexander the Great and never slept with if you don’t-“

“Boys,” Popella dares to interrupt them, with another arch of her spine and a faint flutter of her eyelids “…Just thrust into me, alright? Try and take it slow, and don’t panic over the sensations being a tiny bit different – it’s still just sex, it still involves penetration.”

“…Unless it’s intercrural.”

“Hephaestion…” Alexander sighs.

And he breathes in through his nose, a little nervous though he’d never admit it out loud, and glares briefly over at Alexander and wonders if he could just run out into the night and hide behind Perdiccias until all this blows over…

From: (Anonymous)

For whatever reason (some sort of curse or weird accident or maybe just the effect of far too much Twitter) Larry can now speak and think only in Tweets.

From: (Anonymous)

You could tell it was winter. Jumpers upon jumpers lay on the bed, sprawled out all over the place. The cardigans had soon added to the pile of clothes steadily growing per minute. They were due to leave the next morning and neither of them had yet packed anything more than a few pairs of pants and socks and a can of deodorant between them. A scarf fell onto the pile, then another jumper and a wooly hat. Jim groaned, why was it his job to do the packing? Every year it was the same; all of the cast were to go Brighton for a few days to stay with Larry and Mary, and Jim packed all of the belongings.

Mat, though a fully-grown man, was never good at packing bags. He had never got into the habit as he was growing up and was fortunate enough to have others do it for him, so he didn't have to. It was a bad habit; Jim always shrugged to himself as he rolled up his friend's favourite pair of jeans to fit them into his travel bag. Now, where was his favourite shirt? Where had it gone? With a frown, he called downstairs to his friend who was making the cups of tea.

'Mat, mate?'
'Yeah?' Came his reply, muffled by the ceiling.
'Remind me why I'm packing your bag again...'
'Uh. Well...'
Jim rolled his eyes, shoving something else into the bag and jogging downstairs to raise an eyebrow at Mat. 'Well what?'
'Well, I suppose it's because you're really, really great at it?' He'd used the puppy eyes again, causing Jim to melt like butter. Giant minstrels, erasing all the bad in the wo- Jim, stop. Pull yourself together for god's sake. He thought, furrowing his brow and picking up his tea to take a frustrated sip.

Mat looked down at his feet, having realised the puppy eyes weren't doing the trick. 'I can help you if you need me to?' He suggested, avoiding Jim's gaze and absently tracing the rim of his mug with his finger.
His reply came simply, and very matter of fact. 'I'd like you to. It's quite boring up there by myself.'
'What about the radio?'
'I've heard every Christmas song at least twice in the past few hours.' Jim scoffed, 'If I'm honest I'd much prefer your company.'
'Does that include me singing the Christmas songs for you instead?' Teased Mat.
'Shut it, you' Jim laughed 'Singing will not be accepted.'
He pouted, giving the puppy eyes once more 'Bu-but... I have such a beautiful voice! You said so yourself!'

Jim just laughed, picking up his mug to carry it upstairs as Mat teased further.
'Come on Jim! You love my singing. Check this out!' And with that he started singing, skipping upstairs after Jim. Oh god, please stop. Jim thought, but only for a short moment as although the very last thing he wanted was to listen to Christmas tunes; the fact that Mat was singing to him made it easier to listen to.
They reached the bedroom, Mat still belting out Christmas tunes. Jim crossed the floor to start packing again, watching Mat dance around whilst folding up clothes to help.

From: (Anonymous)

Just everyone hanging out because we need William the Conqueror and Simon arguing as they decorate for the holidays, Jim trying to keep Nero away from Richard III, and the like.

From: (Anonymous)

I don't care if they have angry hate sex after trying to one up each other, drunken fluffy snuggles, or mutual BAMF-ness during a battle against zombies - these two need to interact.

From: (Anonymous)

Instead of offering Vortigern his daughter, Hengist offers himself.

From: (Anonymous)

She completely doms him, in bed as well as out of it. He loves it.

From: (Anonymous)

Several of Jim's recent Tweets have been about sports teams and then he posted a pic of Mat and himself sharing an over-sized scarf at the pub before the game - obviously stadium sex is the next logical step. ;D

From:

balinese-baby.livejournal.com

Ben is asked to be Father Christmas for some friends, he enlists two other members of the cast to be his elves.

From: (Anonymous)

Mat’s lips are soft under his and he half gasps when he’s backed into the door, body trembling and eyes fluttering shut and Mat’s body so very warm even through his shirt.

“Lawry,” Mat mutters, breaking just briefly to press kisses along his jaw before diving right back in, “Lawry.”

“Mat,” he mutters in reply, into those lips and with his hand automatically coming up to bury themselves in that impossibly thick hair, “Christ! Mat…”

Mat-

…Who is drawing back suddenly, staring at him and biting that just-kissed lip like he’s just found something incredibly funny about this whole situation (with him mentioning tipsily how attractive he found Charles I, and Mat moving in closer and touching his thigh, and almost falling over when he realized how late it was, and Mat kissing him to reassure him that they could both go on to an awful lot later and yes, fair enough, there are actually funny bits about all this).

“What?” He asks breathlessly, hands threading a little bit deeper.

“You,” Mat says pointedly, moving in to press another few kisses along his jaw that do have his eyes fluttering shut in an entirely pleasant way, “sounded just like Cromwell then-“

…He snorts, pushing Mat back a little until he has breathing room again, “we are not roleplaying our first time.”

“But-“ Mat mocks pouts, dark eyes sparkling.

“No.”

“But-“

“No, Mathew,” and he has to gulp when Mat’s eyes go dark like that, has to force in a slightly unsteady breath through his nose and consider all his options “…Mathew.”

“Lawrence,” Mat replies, tone faintly ragged.

…And he can understand why, yes, he actually groans at the use of his full name. Allows his eyes to flicker shut as Mat chuckles and presses yet more biting kisses along the line of his jaw.

“…So,” before eventually pulling back, and giving him a thoughtful look with those still ever so dark (ever so bone melting, if he’s going to be honest as he slumps into a pile upon the floor) eyes, “you want a slightly more traditional first time than roleplaying an executed king and the man who executed him?”

“Just a little,” and he has to smile.

“I’m guessing that bondage is also out, then?”

“Save it for the fourth time.”

“Ice cream?”

“Third time.”

“Blow jobs in the shower?”

“…Maybe next time,” he shudders, can’t quite help a shudder at that, tightens his fingers in Mat’s hair to the point where the man is hissing (And nothing, nothing in the whole wide world, has ever sounded so erotic), “for now, Mathew, I would rather like to fuck you.”

“You sound like the hottest thing in the world when you say that…” And it gets him a kiss, a deep one that has him gasping yet again, and a smirk – Mat drawing slowly back to tilt his head and simply admire, “bedroom, then?”

He smiles, slightly shakily considering what’s going on between his legs, slowly nods, “this time.”

“…In the kitchen the fifth time, then?”

He laughs, suddenly, takes Mat’s hand and nods as sincerely as he possibly can, “and roleplaying all the way.”

From: (Anonymous)

...I don't know why I want this, I just do. ~~Probably because they're both hot.~~

Mike is sent back to the 1730s to do a special report on the crimes of Dick Turpin, and somehow ends up running into the man himself...

From: (Anonymous)

Ben gags Larry, this leads to fun.

From: (Anonymous)

One of Charles' experiments (hey, the dude liked science~) goes a bit wrong and coats both him and Sothers in sex pollen. This leads to some rather hurried consummating of hidden desires, if you know what I mean~.

No non-con, please!