#80s male curls

[beautifulfaaces]

Adeel Akhtar

Facts

September 18, 1980

English actor

He is of Pakistani descent

Filmography

Dr. Adita Singh [Sweet Tooth: 2021-2023]

Lestrade [Enola Holmes 2: 2022]

Martin [Killing Eve: 2019-2022]

Barry [Ghosted: 2017-2018]

Rob [The Night Manager: 2016]

Isaac [Side by Side: 2010]

Hazim [Criminal Intent: 2006]

Appearance

Black hair

Curls

Brown eyes

1.68m

Roleplay

Playable: young adult, adult

[dreamings-free]

Move over George Clooney. From Paul Mescal to Jeremy Allen White, there’s a new gang of pin-ups with salt-and-pepper hair and they’re under 40

Tuesday August 13 2024, 9.00am BST, The Sunday Times by Richard Gray

—

With the first wisps of silver comes wisdom, they say, but while many men of a certain age choose to turn back the clock by reaching for a box of dye, a new wave of younger men are simply refusing to colour theirs in. The truth is that grey hair has never been so cool — just look at the red carpet. “There’s a handful of relatively young actors who just don’t care if we see them with grey hair or not,” says Paul Toner, deputy editor of 10 magazine. “Look at somebody as successful as Paul Mescal: when he’s not dying his hair for a new role, he lets his grey grow through and doesn’t mind one bit.”

He’s a silver fox? “More a silver fox in training. Let’s call him a silver fox cub instead,” Toner says. At 28, the Normal People star is one of several celebrities who, according to Toner, are “reframing” what it means to be a man approaching his thirties.

“We’ve had ‘zaddies’, those older, strapping sugar daddies with wallets to match — and we all know a silver fox when we see one — but these men, up to and around that 35 mark, understand that with salt and pepper hair comes a certain authority, a sort of superpower,” he says. As one of the four horsemen of the middle-age apocalypse (see also the pierced ear, the leather blouson and a sudden interest in cycling Lycra) the first sight of grey hair is no longer considered the over-the-hill omen of old age it once was.

At 33, arguably the world’s hottest chef who’s not actually a chef, The Bear’s Jeremy Allen White has a cut that cleverly blends his greys (on the temples and at the front) with his medium-length fair and wavy hair. At 30, the Quiet Place actor Joseph Quinn isn’t afraid to let his buzz-cut greys grow out. And at 36, the actors Jonathan Bailey (Bridgerton) — with his Mallen streak — and Nick Sagar (Shadowhunters) — with his all-over grey, natural curls — have cuts that emphasise rather than disguise their salt and pepper hair. A little grey — and its associated characteristics of wisdom, experience, authority and “been about a bit but you still definitely would” — represents, for these men at least, a chance to redefine themselves as they gear up for middle age.

Not that everybody is on board with grey hair. When Louis Tomlinson, of One Direction, turned up at Glastonbury (he’s 32) with — brace yourselves — more than a few wisps of white in the front and sides, social media went into meltdown. From a disapproving “[he’s] making me feel 500 years old”, to “my man is getting more SEXY!”, his natural, dye-free hair caused quite the stir.

“Louis’s hair hovers around the 20 per cent salt to about 80 per cent pepper, mark,” says Mads-Sune Lund Christensen, a colourist at Josh Wood Salon in London. “I have men, and these are successful men, who come in for a colour and ask specifically for some grey to be left in — and that’s a new thing,” he says. “In the past, clients always wanted full coverage to remove it.” So now they want to look their age? “They want the salt and the pepper to show — and its authority.”

“It’s everywhere you look,” Toner adds. “You only have to watch something as hugely popular with men as Match of the Day.” Older chaps, yes, but Alan Shearer, Roy Keane and Gary Lineker — three of the most watched and, certainly, admired men on British television — all have grey hair or grey in their beards. Keane’s salt and pepper Grizzly Adams number is an absolute belter. Forget Succession, it’s these men (see also Graeme Souness and Jamie Carragher, the list goes on) who are influencing how younger millennial males wear their hair and, indeed, how they dress.

A quick walk down the men’s aisle in Boots confirms that products for salt and pepper hair have never been so effective, or popular: Control GX Grey Reducing Shampoo (which sounds as if it should be on Top Gear), for example, maintains that all-important seasoning mix. Meanwhile, what’s surely the best bit of man-kit since the reclining chair, Just For Men Moustache & Beard Brush-In Colour Gel will tone down any of those comedy pirate beards in bingo-marker black.

[bucknastysbabe]

Cruel Summer - Jace Velaryon x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Virgin!Jace, Nerdy!Fratty!Jace, 80’s AU, frottage, male m4stürb4t10n, pining, Jace’s huge mf schlong, babysitter reader, Dornish!Reader, fluffy, awk first times, Jace working that thang, horny ass mofo, multiple o’s, pnv!sex, so much lube, wet n messy yeah

Taglist: @godrakin @lovelykhaleesiii @fairysluna @ilikeitbetterangsty @xfancyuu @borikenlove @aemondsversion

Jacaerys Velaryon was fucked. Sincerely fucked. He was home from his freshman year of college and there she was. Playing with little Aeg and Vis in the pool. Olive skin gleaming with droplets, a one piece fiery red and high cut. Revealing those thighs for days.

She could put Jamie Lee Curtis in Perfect to shame. Fucking Dornish babysitter that was unimaginably hot. She was back from her study abroad in Essos apparently. Luke laughed from behind, “Don’t bust the window out with that wood, Jacey.”

“Shut the fuck up Luke,” Jace barked and turned away to stomp to his room. His younger brother’s laugh echoed from downstairs. The brunette flopped down on his bed, staring up at all the old posters in his room. God, he was still such a nerd.

Joined a frat and everything, met his best friend Cregan. Cregan could pull any girl he wanted, like many others in the fraternity. Jace got a tentative handy and many attempts for pussy actually. Apparently he had a horse cock. That’s how that crazy Greyjoy bastard put it anyways.

But he still didn’t lose his v-card. Not because of an embarrassingly small prick of course, no, he ran the normal chicks off and the real sleazy ones made him wilt faster than a dying plant. A nerdy Virgin who still stuttered around chicks unless he had a couple drinks in his system.

And for the the love of the seven he was still hard as nails from baby’s perky tits. Baby. That’s what the Velaryon clan called her since little Viserys pointed at the girl and called her, “Baby! Mah babysidder!” So it stuck. Drove him fucking nuts.

The other side of the family came over for dinner and Aegon was all over Baby. But she smirked and ate it up. Why would she even want that idiotic slimeball? He’d gained, like, so much weight at college.

Aegon didn’t give a fuck though. He had that confidence border lining delusion. Jace stuttered and grinned like a fool in front of their long-time neighbor. He palmed at his cock, shifting to slide down his track pants and get his cock out, imagining himself chatting her up.

She’d giggle and press her pretty tits closer to him, purring in that Dornish lilt, “Mhm baby, want that big cock of yours so bad, kiss those pretty lips while you split me open, mmm.” Jace was stroking himself rough and quick, other hand tugging heavy balls. Biting his plump lower lip the brunette moaned, “Yeah, yeah, gonna fuck you so ha-ah-ard! Suck on those tits of yours-oh fuck!”

Jacaerys gasped as his thick cock spurted on his hand and chest, whining through his nose as he tugged his balls one good last time. He flopped back, heavy cock slapping luridly against his exposed thigh. It wasn’t long until he dozed off into sleep. Just to wake up with more cum on his belly, dreams of her dark lips enveloping the blunt tip of his cock.

Jace grumbled, “Seven forgive me, I’m like a fucking middle schooler.” He stripped his ruined clothes off and hopped into a long, hot shame shower, scrubbing the residual embarrassment off. His mom would be home soon and Uncle Daemon was probably cooking dinner now.

No one dwelled on Uncle Daemon. Targaryens are weird. Baela and Rhaena were awesome though. Half of his clothes were unpacked so Jace put on a polo button-up, jeans, and loafers. How fratty of him. He may have spent too long trying to manage his hair mullet in the mirror.

He trudged downstairs, Joff arguing with Luke over the Nintendo. Jace hollered, “It’s a stupid game you idiots!” Baela and Rhaena were curled on the couch while they ogled over a magazine with Motley Crüe or something on the cover.

Daemon was cooking, chatting with her. She turned and flashed a shining smile, Viserys in her lap. Baby cooed, “Jacey, you look all grown up! College looks good on you, when did you get home?”

Jace’s cheeks reddened and he mumbled, “Uh, a couple hours ago but I was wiped, my bad. How was Essos?”

Daemon snorted at his lame response, working on stir fry. She launched into a spiel about the culture in Braavos, chatting in that warm way of hers. He needed a drink of water. Badly. The moment was interrupted when his mom came into the kitchen, unloading her briefcase and opening her arms for little Aegon and Viserys.

She grinned at him, “Jacaerys, my sweet boy, you look so handsome. We’re all back together!” Daemon lamented, “What a joy!” She shushed the blonde and cooed at the boys, grinning. Jace looked up to make eye contact with Baby, her dark eyes hooded and intense. She sipped her orange juice, pink tongue coming out to lick away a stray drop.

Jace darted to the cabinets to get a glass for water. Ice fucking cold. He mingled a bit, answering questions about grades, the frat, making new friends. Daemon was intrigued about Cregan, his best friend. “A Northman! I guess you need a frigid bastard.” Jace rolled his eyes and sat down at the table.

Across from Baby. Who was wearing a pretty green blouse tucked into sinfully tight shorts. The blouse in question was showing off her tits, making his cheeks redden again. Everyone milled in, filling the huge table while Daemon passed out the plates of food.

He remained quiet as Rhaena talked about her tennis matches. He almost threw his fork when a bare foot nudged his own. Baby was smiling around her drink, eyes on Daemon’s girl. The eldest son chewed on some chicken slowly so he wouldn’t start choking. Because Baby’s foot was traveling up his thigh, stroking along, then toeing at his thighs. Jace whimpered, covering it poorly up with a cough.

Rhaenyra’s thin brows furrowed as she asked, “You okay sweetheart?” He nodded, making an excuse about ‘the wrong windpipe’. Baby smirked and scooched her chair forward, ball of her foot rubbing Jace’s erection.

He stood up abruptly, croaking, “Ah- I- I don’t feel well. I think it was the fast food earlier. I’m going to retire early.” His mom told him to stay in touch if anything got worse, the rest, including her, gave well wishes.

Half waddling up the stairs Jace slumped on the ground, propped up on his bed. He stared at the Star Wars poster, wondering why he couldn’t have super self-control powers like Luke Skywalker or something. But she was obviously flirting with him, sultry eyes and teasing toes evidence of that.

Jace’s heart beat rapidly, unsure of what to do. Baby was actually a very sweet girl, never a bad word spoken about her in highschool. She’d see his cock and run away screeching. He held his head in his hands, groaning in displeasure.

“Man up and fuck the girl!,” Dalton’s voice echoed.

“Obviously she’s into ya’ just give it a try,” was Cregan’s deeper tone.

Jace would just do what he did best— brood until further notice. His cock had already died down some from his anxiety. And brood he did, turning up the radio to Bananarama’s cruel summer. How fucking apt.

He laid back on his bed and stared at the ceiling.

The door cracked slightly, a thin light of illumination coming through. Jace groaned, “M’fine mom.” Her sultry accent came back, “No silly, it’s me.” He bolted upright and opened his mouth to get a manicured finger pressed to them. Baby whispered, “Hush, they think I’m gone for the night. You ran off on me?”

Jace stuttered, “I-I was going to cum at the table.”

She cocked her head and climbed onto the bed next to him, hand rubbing his chest tenderly. Baby murmured, “You never played a little footsie? Look at you, I know you were beating the girls off with a stick.” Jace miserably laughed, “Yeah, that didn’t go as planned.”

“What do you mean?”

Jace flushed and whined, “Oh god, I’ve messed around and stuff. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re a virgin.”

The Velaryon turned away from Baby and murmured, “Yes, big whoop, Jace is still a stuttering virgin bitch.” She laughed and climbed onto his lap, grinning. He moaned, “It’s horrid, not funny Baby.” The girl played with his hair, scratching as she sought his dark eyes.

“I don’t think it’s funny because you’re a virgin. I think it’s funny because you’re so handsome. What is it? Anxiety, I get that. I was nervous too at first,” she pressed closer to whisper, “But I’ve had an awakening in college.” Jace couldn’t help but moan softly at her warm breath and soft tits.

He stammered, “Y-yeah?”

She purred, “Mhm. Found out I like em’ big. Bigger the better. Gods it feels amazing.” She shifted on his lap, his cock already back in full form. She gasped, “Oh- seems like you’re just my type too. Not every girl can take something like you’re packing. Not a girl that cares about you Jacaerys Velaryon.”

His eyes boggled. She? The most gorgeous girl who has tormented his wet dreams since puberty, cared about him. He grew serious, eyes narrowing, “Are you joking?”

“Why would I lie? I’ve been trying to get your damn attention for ages Jacey,” she turned to look down, Jacaerys pushing back her thick locks as she admitted, “I kinda, hah, would accidentally say your name in the height of passions.”

“So, do you want me? I shared my embarrassing moment and feelings.” She stared in earnest, breathtakingly gorgeous.

He nodded vicariously, “I’ve always wanted you Baby, fuck, like so bad.” He carelessly moved forward, cradling her head as he kissed the darker girl. She titled her head so they didn’t collide noses, rutting further on his cock, rough denim against his briefs. She moaned into the kiss, keeping one hand in his hair, the other trailing down to the slit in his underwear.

Jacaerys lapped at her warm tongue, lips sensually moving against her own. He softly whined through his nose when she pulled him out, getting a feel for the heft and length. She hummed, “Big boyyy, gods, stupid girls don’t know what they’re missing.”

The brunette blurted dumbly, “I don’t want those stupid girls. Like. At all.”

“Good. I get jealous. Dornish blood runs hot.”

“So does Targaryen.”

They returned to desperately sharing kisses, the girl unbuttoning her shorts desperately, Jace yanking them off and tossing the denim. She remained in a scrap of clothing desperately humping her wet pussy against him. Jace groaned, “Baby, baby, god, need you?”

She tied her thick hair back in a flurry of movement, unbuttoning and slinging off the blouse, heavy tits on display. Jacaerys instinctively covered them with his calloused hands, squeezing at flesh and thumbing at pebbled nipples, relishing in her soft whining,

She rasped, “Lube?”

“Lube?”

“Do you have lube Jacey? You have a monster cock, remember?” She began to snicker as Jace rifled around his bed and side drawer, eventually finding the tube of KY. Jacaerys stuttered, “Oh-ah, how do you want me?” While she yanked down his underwear Baby responded, “Missionary, can fit you better that way, just need a pillow under my back. You can, fuck, move my legs up for more.”

Jace flipped them around, panting with excitement. He grabbed a condom too, about to tear it open but she stopped and hummed, “M’on the pill, you’re good sweetie.” He was going to combust. But he liberally squirted lube on his fingers first, he’d done that before. “Good boy,” she rasped as Jace slid the substance around.

He dove two thick fingers into her slick cunt, stretching and rubbing at that spot making Baby call his name and squirm. He added more KY just for the hell of it, enjoying the slick and lurid noises. Then a third finger fit and he was vigorously fingering the Dornish, leaning over to suck and bite at those huge tits. She whined and clawed at his biceps, but Jace was lost in the pleasure.

He couldn’t stop, this was like crack, every sweet noise and her sloppy cunt driving him further into the need to send her into an orgasm. She did after he managed to stuff his pinky in, abusing her g-spot. Baby slapped a hand over her mouth and gushed on him, howling behind her hand, squirming and shaking.

Jace’s eyes rolled back at the wonderful sight; tear streaked face, swollen lips, heaving breasts. Baby rasped, “You fucking monster, hah, c’mere and kiss me. I know you’re excited but I want that cock more than a couple o’ pumps.”

In a sensual, lazy embrace, they twisted in the oldest dance, laughing, whining, moaning. Baby nipped his plush lips, murmuring, “Such pretty fucking lips, want them on my pussy next time.”

He kissed her harder, tucking that idea away for later.

Their make-out had turned into sloppy humping again, the eldest Velaryon gasping, “Oh, m’ready, lemme have you please!” Baby goaded him on, “Yeah, yeah, lube it up ‘kay?” Jace did so with expediency, liberally coating the heavy member.

When his blunt cockhead began to breach her entrance his mouth fell open, eyes rolling around. Baby purred, “Mmm, yeah Jacey, gonna feel s’good, slow slow, ease into it.” The brunette did his best to take it slow but the tight, wet grip around his cock had him sucking in breath and whining on every other breath.

He was about halfway now, sweating from holding back, maneuvering those perfect legs of hers to over his elbows. She arched her back and moaned, “Yes, yes, stuffing me all up baby boy.” Jace could only garble nonsense as he bottomed out, cock sleeved in her cunt. He was in heaved, Baby’s pussy so hot and ridged, pulsing around him.

“Cuh-can I?,” he wheezed.

“Mhmmmm,” she sighed with dreamy eyes.

Jacaerys tentatively pulled back and slapped back in with a wet noise. He cried out helplessly, tucking his mouth onto a perky nipple. Then instinct took over. Fuck. Breed. Fill. Jace could get very one-track minded and focused it all on fucking his Baby silly, trying to keep that need of blowing in the future.

The bed shook, she cried out, Jace keened her name, pounding her roughly. So much for keeping it quiet. “Oh gods, you feel s’good, fuck, it’s s’good,” he repeated.

“I- mm! Know!,” she whimpered.

He moved her legs over his shoulders, living in the moment, all the noises and heavenly feelings. She had bit down on a pillow to keep from screaming, shaking from head to toe. Baby was milking him like a vice now, pussy just dripping and messy. Messier when he came in her poor slit.

That thought felt like a gut punch and she bit harder, squirting on his cock. He must’ve spoken that thought out loud, desperately panting her name as he emptied his heavy balls into her cunt, stuffing it with load after load, Jace shaking and whimpering at the intensity.

They stayed locked together, both too oversensitive to move. Jace had dropped her pretty thighs, rubbing them as he laid on her chest. Her shaky hand played with his hair. Baby hoarsely muttered, “You’re mine forever. I mean it.”

“Guh- uh- yes Baby.”

They needed a shower. Then maybe Jace could try that whole pussy eating thing. Clean her up good and well, make her cry from the third orgasm. Fuck. He sure had some stories to tell Cregan when he got back.

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

Heyyyyyy Alr alr like u said

Male reader when he gives hugs he rubs up and down there waist an grabs there butt with bill

Now u know my super secret identity 🫢

(Heck yeah I can! And yes, your identity was never safe.)

Grab Ass

First of all I feel like Bill would love hugs of any kind

From behind, side hugs or regular hugs

Any and all hugs he welcomed because he just loves the so goddamn much

You could be, and most likely, shorter than him and I feel like that's when he loves the hugs the most

Even if you're not that shorter he's still gonna love hugs

When you hug his waist he always loves sorta holding your hands as you do?

Like your hands are on his waist and he sorta like puts his hands over yours and tangled his fingers with yours

Stuff like that he absolutely loves

He also loves the feeling of your fingers and hands wandering around his waist and chest

Especially when he doesn't have a shirt on

Marriage right then and there

He can feel chills and butterflies and he loves the feeling so much

But the first time you did it he was not really expecting it

Especially if you like went over his ass or down to his lower waist

He probably was trying not to giggle out loud

But you could tell from the smile on his face

He sorta curled into himself?

Like y'know that thing when you are happy and just lift your leg and bend down a bit?

Idk how to explain it but he sorta does that

He's just so happy

But when you grabbed his ass he was so shocked about how bold you were being

Especially if you looked unbothered while doing it as well

He would look at you, mouth sorta parted in shock before it curled into a smile

His own hand would slip to your ass and in your pocket to cop a feel

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@billsjum6ie @bigbootahjudy @ilovebill-and-gustav @r3dheadedw0rld @kiwitsune @V4mpyboyy @novaaisstupid @billybabeskaulitz @yas-v @iischafer @dilfverz @ahswhore0 @graciegizmo3184 @sweetpuffy12 @80s-tingz @ryiana @yuriayato5 @bunnysenpai31 @banshailey @bellastoner420 @victryzvv9 @stxngnr @killed-kiss @stilesandjames @m00nzyblogs @sylisan @lyzit @trixiekaulitz @laylasbunbunny @5hyslv7 @limaswife

[agust-june]

Take My Breath

Johnny x black reader

Summary: Johnny knows how beautiful you are but he doesn't want to admit he wants to be more than fuck buddies.

Genre: fuck buddies to lovers late 70s early 80s

Warnings: rough sex, unprotected sex, cursing, arguing, Johnny grabbing you and slamming you against the wall. This is smut and it's nasty. This is not for minors.

A/n: This is based on a dream I had about being in the 80s at a disco club then making Johnny jealous and doing coke, but I didn't add it for obvious reasons. I wanna thank @neocitycollectives for helping me! As well as @multifandomslxt the both of you really inspired me and your words really helped me into posting this. I hope yall like this!

The year was unknown to you as the hot air filled the club, and the blue strobe lights glowed above you. You were happy as your male friend grabbed you, pulling you to dance with him. As your body moves in the dark club, you are being watched under the strobe light. Johnny looks at you in the middle of the floor, the smile you had on your face as you danced or grinded against his friend Jaehyun. He taps his glass of whiskey, thinking of ways for you to end up in his bed. Waiting for you to slip up to punish you later. You were already wearing his favorite dress, and your hair was in full thick curls. Meanwhile, your makeup was slightly smudged. But you didn't care. You were high on the feeling of the music running through your ears. The way your hips swayed and moved to the beat was mesmerizing to most of the men there. Not only that, but you were a beautiful black woman. To Johnny, it was unfortunate that trouble always finds beautiful women like you, even innocent ones.

You stop dancing as your head begins to spin. The man behind you kept moving as you stood there and locked eyes with Johnny who was coming onto you. You smirk and turn around continuing the dance as another man comes behind you completely trapping you into your arms. You looked at the man behind you. He was tall with blonde hair. He looked pretty hot. Eventually the guy behind you starts getting handsy touching your breasts and kissing your neck. Your eyes are trying to find Johnny, and when you isn't happy. His eyes glaring at you from the dark sent shivers down your spine, turning you on.

"My name is Jaehyun," the guy says. You moan as the man finds your weak spot on your neck. His grip on your neck was tight, but you liked it, closing your eyes as you let him do whatever he wanted.

"You like that baby?" He asks, making you nod, kissing you more. You can feel his bulge pressed against your ass, his hands running up and down your body. You moan as his hands go up your dress and into your panties.

"Do you want this baby? Am I turning you on?" He asks, but you have no answer as your thoughts go to one man and one man only. As you turn to look for Johnny, who was heading towards the exit. You move the guy's hand off you and push him away.

"Sorry, but I'm already spoken for," you say, walking away, going to the same exit. While in the halls, you see Johnny's tall figure turn the corner immediately and you run to catch up with him. You follow him outside as he goes to the hotel across the street. When you catch up to him, he goes into the elevator.

"Johnny-

"Shut the fuck up" the tone in his voice made you go silent for a minute.

"Why? Did you not like my show?" You tease him walking around him almost pacing.

"You think you're hot shit huh?" Johnny pokes his tongue into his cheek trying to keep a cool head on. Jealousy was a pain in his ass as he remembered how you looked.

"Think? Oh honey I know I am. I mean you saw the way Jaehyun wanted to fuck me right?" Of course you'd bring it up to stir him up. The grin on your face said it all.

"Well congratulations! Go fuck him then."

"Is that what you want? Or are you mad it wasn't you?"

"What game are you playing?" Johnny asks knowing the answer he didn't want to admit.

"Same one as you"

"Y/n I'm warning you-

"Or what? Just admit it! You want me to be your girl. You wanna keep me to yourself right?" The words yes was screaming on the tip of his tongue. Johnny looked up at the elevator lights. Thinking to himself and to God trying not to think about hurting you in the worst of ways.

"We're just fucking and that's all it is"

"Okay then you don't get upset. In fact let me go back to see if Jaehyun can hit this" you try pressing the elevator doors to open but Johnny decides to speak.

"I don't see why? He's not gonna be better than me?"

"He sure felt bigger than you" you argue back making Johnny cackle.

"Stop"

"His fingers were good too, almost made me cum-" Johnny slams you against the wall, shaking you from your senses. The look in his eyes was pure rage. Tears well up into your eyes scared and you realize you went too far. You were about to apologize but Johnny cut the words from you before you could speak.

"Shut the fuck up. You wanna play games fine. You can screw any man you want but you're not gonna be satisfied. You're gonna end up in my bed being my good slut." His words gritting against his teeth like venom but not a moment after he shoves his lips against yours. You don't even fight it letting his tongue into your mouth roaming around it into your throat. Like a starved man on his last meal, he wasn't letting you breathe. You couldn't move you couldn't touch him. When he did let go he caught his breath before immediately going back to kiss you. He wouldn't let you touch him even when he went to pull your panties off he held both your wrists with one hand.

"You wanna be slut out fine. But don't act like my dick wasn't what you thought about while dancing with him. That's why you followed me right?" You let out a whimper as he shoved his fingers inside you, your hips immediately moving against his fingers. They were so thick filling you up but it wasn't enough you needed his dick.

"Wanted me to snap and manipulate me into whatever the hell you want. You think you can just come in here soaking wet for me and act like I'm not fucking you good?" Your mind was flooded with nothing but him. The moans you made was responding to his words. He unbuckled his pants made you get on your knees. He didn't even wait the moment you opened your mouth the way he wanted his dick was in your mouth. Johnny lets out a groan as you take his dick into your mouth. Talking dirty about how well you take his cock. His hand on the back of your head as he looks up at the lights getting lost into pleasure. His hips relentlessly fucking tour mouth making you gag on him. He stops as soon as he feels you push up looking down you. You immediately push back sending his eyes back calling you a slut. You liked it when he got rough you liked giving him head too. His hands gripping your hair feeling the coils forming once more. Sucking him off desperately wanting him to cum and he almost does. When his cock twitches in your mouth Johnny hisses before pulling you off. You don't hear him but you feel him picking, wrapping your legs around him and using the elevator for support. He's kissing you again this time it was more tender your lips

"Screw you. And screw this game you're fucking mine. You've been mine since I met you fucking slut" you sob loudly as Johnny enters inside you filling you up to the hilt. You were so wet Johnny slid right in. His hips were brutal fucking- no screwing you like he wanted to break you. He grunts in your ear as your body shakes every time. Your head resting on the wall watching him fall apart and you vise versa.

"So. Damn. Good." Johnny kisses your neck nipping and biting sucking the flesh. His thrusts slow down as he hears a whine from you.

"Don't stop!" You yell out, your voice going octaves higher.

"Shh, let me worship you. My pretty girl, " he kisses you, feeling your body. His hands touching your breasts, his thrusts still going, but this time they're more passionate. Johnny wasn't pent up anymore he just wanted to go slow. Wanting to savor the way your pussy feels around him. Savor how good he's making you feel. When he looks into your eyes all he can see is him. Just him and no one else. His heart fluttering as he looks at you all fucked out for him.

"So beautiful" Johnny stops for a minute taking in your face caressing your beautiful bronze skin. The specks of gold brushed upon your cheeks. You looked so good tonight and all for him. He was yours and you were his girl.

"Johnny please move" you beg your hips moving trying to get some relief with your walls throbbing around him.

"Shhh baby it's okay I'm gonna make you cum" Johnny then starts picking up the pace fucking you like there was no tomorrow.

"Ahh I'm gonna-

"Wait Baby let me cum with you" Johnny goes faster chasing his own climax while you try to hold off on yours. You whisper sweet nothings into his ear giving him a boost into his ego. Your hips moving against him matching his pace until you both cum together.

"F-fuck" you let out trying to catch your breath. Johnny collapses against your shoulder trying to keep holding onto you as he empties his cum inside you.

"I love you." You laugh, wiping the sweat off your forehead, then run your hands through Johnny's hair. He looks up at you as you smile.

"Took you long enough to say it.'' You tease as he slides out of you, helping you fix your clothes and your appearances.

"Hey, don't push your luck,' Johnny says, helping you down and standing up on your feet.

"So does this mean we're boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Well damn let me take you on a date first,"

"I mean you already fucked me may as well give the title" you tell him reaching up to kiss him. Johnny smiles in the kiss before hitting the elevator doors to open. The two of you walk to his usual hotel room hand in hand.

[gretavanglimmers]

Jake Kiszka & Female Reader

Chapter Two: Look what you made me do...

Summary: As landlady of the Vagabond Blues, you make all the rules. But there's one you just can't seem to keep with the lead guitarist of your house band. He waits for you every night at closing time. Set in the backdrop of the 80s style Roadhouse bar, Jake is a bad influence. But could he be exactly what you need, too?

Warnings: Alcohol and smoking. Pissed off Jake. Oral male. Dirty talk. Full sex. Violent fucking. Throat grabbing. Bar fighting.

Smoke hung in the air as you extinguished your cigarette. Gentle plumes of white rising up from the ash tray on your desk, the urge to light up another taking hold immediately.

You wanted the numbers to make sense. You wanted the profits to balance. Nervously tapping the edge of your pen against the books, none of the intake matched what should have been coming in. You stared at the pages incredulously, waiting for any of it to start tallying.

A gentle knock on your door gave a welcome reprieve. You threw your pen down, sighing in exasperation and leaned back into your chair. The swamp of papers on your desk blurring into your periphery as your door opened a crack.

"Fuck me or marry me, Josh. I don't have time for anything else." You said, noting the head of curls peering in.

He was Jake's twin brother. Singer of the band. A merry breath of fresh air when compared to his counterpart and somebody you suspected knew about what had been going on after hours. But he'd never dare say, and you'd never take the time to drag it out of him.

"Well, if those are my only two options I guess I'll have to make an honest woman out of you." He replied, slipping in and slumping into the red leather couch opposite. "You wanted to see me?"

You threw him the papers and waited for him to peruse over them. His brow furrowed in concentration, waiting for him to notice the anomaly. Taking the time to roll up another smoke.

"What am I looking at?" He asked, turning the pages over like you'd handed him a bedtime story.

"Fucking underhanded thievery." You replied, exhaling through your nose. "Look at those numbers and tell me I'm not getting fucked."

His lip curled in a smirk that wasn't unlike Jake. But with Josh, there was never any underlying agenda. You liked that about Josh. What you saw with him is precisely what you got.

"You think it's one of the bar staff?" He queried, flipping the pages up and down, "Looks like they're skimming off the top."

"They'll skim my knuckles if I catch them doing it." You hissed, taking a savagely long drag. "I've decided to haul everyone in and see if the snakes reveal themselves."

He raised an eyebrow. "What does this have to do with me?"

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the piles of paper in front of you. Sleeves rolled up and a devilish grin forming on your lips.

"You're in my corner, aren't you? They're scared of me but they'll listen to you."

You knew you had to rule with an iron fist. Any hint of weakness and the chain of command would break. Josh had always been good at fairing any weathers the Vagabond Blues stormed up. His cheery disposition was without confrontation or malice. You needed him.

"I don't know what sort of power you think I have here, Cookie." He shook his head, slipping the papers back onto the edge of the desk. "But it 'aint enough to charm the snakes."

"You underestimate yourself." You assured him, "What other choice do I have? I can't ask Jake."

Josh huffed and extended his arms out on the back of the couch. He knew as well as you did that Jake would lead with his instincts rather than calculating them first.

"You've got your hands full here, boss." He sighed, "Why don't you let me and Sammy take care of it for you?"

You hadn't thought to involve Sammy. He was barely old enough to play there, let alone drink. But he was their little brother and Jake had vouched for his ability to play the bass and keys. You'd been impressed, allowed his youth to be overlooked.

"What's your plan here, Kiszka? Get the scumbags to admit they've been stiffing me and then get little Sammy to show them the door?" You laughed, referring to his age rather than the fact he towered over both of his older brothers.

"You got a better idea? Jake runs around like your personal henchman, they wont expect it from the boy." He suggested, "And besides, the money you'll be saving can be our Christmas bonus."

You rolled your eyes. "Better make sure Danny's working tonight, too. You're going to need all the help you can get."

Danny had always had an air of calm. But in the face of adversity, you'd seen him bring men twice his size crashing down the earth. He was the Vagabond Blues band's drummer, although somewhat unofficially he'd become a little more than that lately. It felt like you were recruiting musicians in covert security positions. In lieu of being able to afford to hire actual security.

Nobody fucked with the band. Without the music, the bar was just a sink hole for drinkers and debauched waifs and strays. People who had nothing better to spend their dime on. The music was what kept them from remembering that sobering truth.

"You worry too much, Cookie." Josh said, pulling the cigarette out from your lips as he stood to leave, stealing a drag before he walked out. "You're a mighty woman, but you're still only one person. You should think about letting the reigns out a little with all this."

You shook your head as he tried to return the cigarette.

"Is that an offer, Joshua?" You asked, intrigued.

He'd been growing out his facial hair lately. Trying something new. It suited him, took him further away from looking like his twin. Not that you'd ever considered that they ever looked quite as identical as they could. There was something about him that would never reflect in the other. And it was why you were having this conversation with Josh, and not Jake.

"I could help you, if it was what you really wanted." He shrugged, taking the cigarette down to the butt before stubbing it out in your now over flowing ash tray. "Legit, of course. I'd want to sign contracts and such."

You lent him a knowing grin. "I'll think about it."

You didn't want to be there at the end of the night. This one wasn't going to be the usual. You anticipated some violent fall out and had been on tenterhooks all night. The regulars poured in early, followed by the rag tag revellers that sought out something a little harder than their usual Saturday affairs. The Vagabond Blues could provide that. It had always been a place for outsiders. Something you'd initially taken on the chin, but not when it effected your profits.

Jake was doing his thing. Like a caged animal unleashed, he was pissed off. You could see it in the way his eyes kept searching you out over at the bar, his lips set in a thin line and his nostrils flared. Pissed because he knew he wasn't going to get his way with you tonight. No doubt he knew what was coming.

But the intervention took precedence. You'd called it a "staff meeting" but it wasn't. It was a finger pointing accusation fuelled witch hunt for the profiteering cunt who had been stealing from you. And you were on a knifes edge about it. Jake being pissed at you was the least of your worries.

"Benny and Savannah are outside."

Lutz was the newest barman you'd hired. Didn't know enough of the ropes to know how to stiff them, yet. He was leaning over the bar, empty glasses in his hand, waiting for your response.

"You tell them no fuckery tonight." You replied, shooting your most stern face over towards the saloon door where they waited. "One step out of line at it's a permanent ban."

Lutz nodded and went to give them the good news. Even though you knew, sooner or later, they'd fall foul of breaking the rules again. They always did.

You couldn't help but swing your suspicions around. Watching everyone's movements like a hawk. Lutz was on the periphery, but not completely out of question. Bonnie was someone you'd be damned to accuse, on account of the fact you'd given her the job as a kindness to her sister who had begged you to help give the poor girl some stability before she went completely off the rails. Jerry was your prime suspect. He'd worked the bar the longest. Practically created the ropes, knew the inventory like the back of his hand. But he was older, why do it now? It didn't make no sense. He'd worked there even before you'd taken it over.

It felt like you couldn't fucking take it anymore. Retreating back to your office, slamming the door shut behind you to muffle out the chaos and pulling out a bottle of rum from your desk drawer as you sank into the old couch and kicked off your boots.

You didn't want to think about the damn place. It was already too late to try and pull the knife out of your back. All you wanted to do was sink into an oblivion where nothing and nobody was your responsibility. Least of all drunks and vagabonds.

You knew it wasn't Josh at the door when the knock came far more aggressively than he would've tapped. You rolled your eyes and sighed heavily into the darkness. You just needed a moment to breathe.

"Not right now!" You called, hoping they'd take the hint.

You hadn't noticed the distinct lack of guitar behind the closed door. So when it opened you were surprised to find your lover standing there. You checked the time on the wall clock in the light from the hall outside, certain there was still a few hours of playing time left.

"I said, not right now." You repeated, leaning your head back to try and stave off the headache that was brewing.

Jake closed the door and plunged the room back into relative darkness. The neon light from the sign outside shining in through the broken blinds on the window.

"If not now, then when?" He demanded, leaning on the edge of your desk with his arms folded.

"I aint your girl right now, Jake." You reminded him. "You're clocked in on playing time, I'm your fucking boss until midnight. Get back out there."

He didn't budge. "The fuck you are. Talking about letting Josh help you out. Letting him take care of shit with Sam and Danny. Like I didn't throw those drunken fools out last weekend."

He had no intention of leaving the room without having this conversation. Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach. What was already turning into a tumultuous night seemed to be leaning straight into being one of the worst nights of your life.

"I really don't need this right now, Jake." You huffed, taking a swig straight from the bottle. "I got enough shit from every other fucking employee, I don't need it from you."

You'd never seen him pissed off before. Mildly vexed, perhaps. But not like this. You could see the whites of his eyes and the way his breathing was short. He would back you into a corner, regardless of what you said.

"This isn't about anyone else." He said bluntly, " This is about you and me. And the fact you wont let me fucking help you, even though you know... don't you?"

You rolled your eyes. "Know, what?"

You'd kicked the hornets nest, now. He stood up and curled his fists until his knuckles were white. His mouth trembling on words he knew he couldn't take back if he let them spill out.

"You're a fucking bitch, Cookie." He snorted, "If you can't see what's under your fucking nose. As if I'd wait for you every damn night just for a casual fuck. It aint about that. I want to see you home safe."

He softened a little. Like admitting it had taken all his strength. And even though you just wanted to be alone, you could feel him reeling you in like he always did. In ways you couldn't see, or smell, or taste. That were completely invisible other than you felt it and always let it take you.

"You know what I need right now, Jake?" You relented, patting the side of the couch next to you. "I need to forget that I run this fucking shit show. I need to forget that it fucking exists. I need to sit here and drink this rum and pretend there's nothing outside this god damn room."

Whatever magnetic force had brought you together in the first place drew him towards you. He was covered in sweat, his shirt saturated and his neck had a glistening sheen as he passed the light of the window.

"There's no happy ending for me, Jake." You whispered in the dark as he sank into the space beside you. "When are you gonna start getting it?"

His jaw was clenched. Half of his face shrouded as he regarded you. You were laid back, bottle in hand. On the verge of crying, but you could never seem to let the tears fall.

"You're full of shit, Cookie." He placed a well meaning hand on your knee. "You're not broken, you don't need fucking saving. Least of all by my fucking brother."

He would've taken anyone else over Josh being the one to step in and save the day. You could see the way it boiled his blood. The way he wanted to be the one to come to your aid.

"You know damn well it's got absolutely nothing to do with me." You explained, slamming the bottle down on the floor and rising to meet his gaze. "Josh doesn't give a fuck about me. He wants a contract, all legit. He's not doing it as a favour. He's gonna take care of the books for me and make sure nothing else goes missing. It's not a security detail, he's not taking people out by the scuff of their necks like you do."

"No, that's what Danny's for." He was adamant, reducing you to a cold and hard silence that you couldn't argue with.

"Why does it matter to you, Jake?" You questioned, "You're paid to play the blues. So play the fucking blues."

You leaned back down and retrieved your bottle. He didn't move. Sat there eyeing you as you tried not to spill the rum down your cleavage.

"Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are when you're like this?"

You almost choked on it. Coughing on it and sitting back up just to clear your airway of what he'd said.

"You want in on the action? It's out there, not in here."

You could've talked at a brick wall and gotten more sense out of it. He could hear you, but he wasn't listening. And a part of you didn't want him to, anyway. The part of you that needed something to take the edge off where the rum simply wasn't doing the job.

"I beg to differ." He whispered, "Look what you made me do..."

He held your gaze as he took the bottle out of your hand. You swallowed hard. He shuffled closer. Placing your palm against the twitching bulge beneath his jeans.

"You feel that? It's all for you, Cookie. It's always for you."

You weren't sure if you preferred it when he was pissed off. When you could be angry with him and not have to pretend that you weren't falling for him.

"Oh, so now you're not even waiting until closing time?" You wondered, letting it happen regardless.

You could have fought it. But your mood was so low that you didn't want the stinkin' bar anymore. Let it run into the ground. Jake was offering you a way out. Let them knock on the door and see what he does to you after hours.

"Are you going to argue with me about it?" He asked, raising a speculative eyebrow.

"I should." You replied breathily, letting the space between the two of you inch closer. "I don't know who the fuck you think you are barging in here and barking orders at me. Questioning my authority."

His mouth stilled close to yours. Teasing breath from each other, wondering who would be the first to allow their tongue to betray them. Your hand was deftly squeezing his bulge, making him hum onto your lips.

"I just....oh, fuck. I just want to..." He stuttered, letting you keep him close as you slipped his zipper down. "Damn it, Cookie... I just want to keep you safe is all..."

"Mmm'hmmm." You murmured, pulling him out fully hard and pulsating. "I'm a big girl, Jake. I got it covered."

He shoved himself into your palm. Thrusting without mercy or apology, letting you grip him so tight he gasped. And he felt so damn good. There was a rush of moisture to your core, a visceral need to have him as your subordinate.

"You gonna let me have my way?" You asked, snaking your body down until your knees were pressed against the edge of the couch with his thighs on either side of you.

"Looks like you already are." He allowed, freeing himself completely as he watched you in the neon light from outside. "Take what you need, Cookie."

He understood.

As you licked circles around his tip, he gathered up your hair into his fist. You could taste the salt of his pre-cum already, in steady droplets that formed as you swept your tongue across his little slit of an opening. Once he had you in his grasp, you sank his end into your mouth and began sucking on it like a lollypop. Letting his head ride against the wave of your tongue. Listening to him breathe so much deeper, huffing out groans that were getting louder and louder.

"Your mouth feels so fucking good." He told you, in strangled words that came out more like he was struggling for breath. "What the fuck has gotten into you tonight?"

You were done talking about it, thinking about it. Whatever was happening out there wasn't important. The way his cock felt was your focus. The way he stared down at you, the way his jaw was slack. The way his stomach moved up and down as he fought for breath.

"You, Jake."

For a moment he was incredulous. In disbelief that you'd allowed such a sentiment to escape. So were you, holding his cock in your hand as you waited for him to say something that would absolve you of the emotional little slip.

"You wanna slow it down a little bit?" He asked, the corner of his mouth turning upward. "Light a candle or something?"

He was playing with you. Softly, but in a way that made you giggle involuntarily. You fucking hated it, whenever he drew from you things which you weren't prepared to give.

"Why don't you do what you do best and talk me through it, huh?"

You busied yourself with sucking him off. Sinking him back into the depths of your mouth. Rolling your tongue over his head, swirling up and down his shaft. Jerking him off as you swallowed, lifting the underside up so that you could paint a stripe from tip to the curve of his balls.

"You're suckin' that so good I can't...fuck... got me all speechless here, Cookie."

"Distract me." You suggested, his cock resting in the pouch of your cheek as you spoke.

He choked out a deep breath. Tightening the grip on your hair as your head bobbed up and down.

"Ok...ok.... I want you to imagine me bending you over the pool table. I'll get down and eat your ass, stick my tongue right into your little pussy hole... Slap my cock against it and slip into it deep and slow. Just how you like it. Fuck with your nipples a little bit, tug on them while you get fucked. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

You hummed your approval against his balls. Sucking them into your mouth, letting your tongue slide all over them, your hand keeping him hard and solid. You could picture it in your mind. The empty bar, just you and him like it always was. You were fucking saturated.

"Fill you up with my cum and fuck it back into you. Watch it spill out of your tight little cunt. Oh god, Cookie...I can't hold on."

You spread your knees apart. Fighting to free yourself. Your spit was dripping down his big, thick shaft. You watched it pool with his pre-cum as you practically clawed at your panties. He ate you up as you straddled him on the couch, looking up at you like you were a fucking unicorn.

Nobody had ever looked at you like you were a mythical creature before. Like you were this beautiful, unattainable thing he wanted nothing more than to possess even if it was just for a fleeting moment. He just wanted to own your essence.

Would it be so bad if you let him?

"Sssshhhh..." He placed a finger to your lips, poised to let him penetrate. "You hear that?"

All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart. Adrenaline coursing through your veins, throbbing from your head right down to the tip of your hard clit.

"I don't hear anything." You replied dismissively, gripping his base as you lined him up.

He grabbed your hips. "Yeah, exactly."

The silence was deafening as you impaled yourself on him. Bouncing hard, feeling him stretch you mercilessly as you fought for release.

The music had stopped.

"Cum in me, Jake." You demanded, feeling the tide of climax reach for shore. "Cum so fucking hard in me, baby."

What other choice did he have? You were an animal. Determined to fuck him with all the pent up frustration that was threatening to strangle you otherwise. Taking fists of his hair and pulling his head back, kissing him with your tongue so deep into his mouth you could taste what he had for breakfast.

When he couldn't take it any more, he wrapped a cautious hand around your neck and held you steady. Thrusting upwards, violent and so hard you almost lost balance.

"You want me to cum in this pretty little pussy?"

You nodded vacantly.

"Yeah, you do." He whispered viciously, taking away every thread of stress and anxiety that weaved through your nervous system. "You better wear those panties after, want you walking around the place filled with it."

The music had stopped. Above the white noise of your heavy breathing and the blood rushing to your head, you couldn't hear much else. Jake pounded into you until it felt like your mortal coil might spin right off and leave you dead for the sake of a mind blowing orgasm.

You could feel it when he came. The heat and the wetness. And the way he lingered with his tongue at your mouth until you were brutally finished. Sweat drenched and satisfied as he fell back into the couch and let you go.

"Did you realise the music had stopped?" You asked, hastily pulling up your underwear as you climbed off.

Jake ran a palm down the length of his face. "Yeah? The fuck did you think I was going to do, though?"

When the music stopped it only meant one thing. Carnage. And even though he was reluctant, Jake rapidly dressed and followed you out of the office and back into the bar.

You were still trying to straighten yourself out as you walked into the middle of a brawl. Not just a two man show of ego, either. You could already see the blood on the floor, mingled with beer and whiskey. Your muscles felt weightless as you tried to intervene, your body entirely ruined by what you'd just done.

"Break it up!" You screamed, yanking on collars and hair, never quite sure who you were reaching for.

Your previous calm dissipated into fear as you realised you were out of your depth. Crying out for him in the middle of it all. Feeling yourself being jostled and pulled in all directions, slipping on blood and fists flying.

All of a sudden the air shifted from your lungs. You felt yourself being pulled back, everything moving too quickly for your to properly respond. Chairs and tables were being used as weapons. All of it ruined. Everything you'd worked your ass to the bone for.

"Cookie, what the fuck were you thinking?!"

Jake was holding you back. The heat of his body still smelled like the sex you'd just had as he held you close.

"You gotta make them stop, Jake! I can't!" You begged, knowing there and then that you were at the end of the line.

He left you there on the side lines. Distraught and helpless. You watched him disappear into the fray. Terrified, perhaps, for the first time in your life for someone else's safety. You'd never cared much about the fights that had happened there before. It felt like not much really mattered as long as he walked out of it in one piece.

"Just fucking stop!!!" You yelled, certain no one could hear.

All you could do was stand there. And watch. And hope. You could see Danny pummel someone to the ground. Young Sammy was covered in cuts and bruises forming already. You could see the regular fist swingers in there, no doubt nothing to do with the initial cause but they sure did love to pack a punch regardless. Josh was in there too, fighting for breath as he fought off swing after swing.

Where was Jake? You couldn't see him anymore.

.

.

.

Chapter Three: Look at me, Don't look at him... *Coming Soon

@takenbythemadness @writingcold @velveteencatch @scoreofinfantryvines @edgingthedarkness @lyndz2names @jakesmustache @jazzyfigz @gvfmarge @thewritingbeforesunrise @itsafullmoon @klarxtr @myownparadise96 @lipstickitty

[xdirtyxlittlexgirl]

hiiii, I love your content

Can I request a angst that go into fluff that go into soft smut hehehehe….where the reader is feeling insecure about her body and her disability which deafness so she wears hearing aids and one of the day she was looking through social media and saw hurtful comments on a post of her and Henry at some premier and Henry just cuddle her in love and yeah heheh

Thank you!!

Broken but Beautiful

Pairing: Henry Cavill X Reader

Summary: You have a hearing disability and get trolled by fans after a public appearance with Henry

Warning: Angst, fluff, hearing disability, graphic description of panic attack, depression, PTSD, stress, anxiety, trolling, cyberbullying, dom male, sly smut, PIV sex, vanilla

_

You sit by the giant glass window, curled up under a soft blanket, listening to the gentle pitter-patter of the rain outside. You loved sitting by this window and watching the rain fall on the expansive garden. It's a calming sound, one that usually puts your mind at ease. But today, your peaceful moment is shattered by the cruel words of strangers on the internet.

You had been checking Twitter to see what people had to say about you and Henry's recent public appearance, hoping for some positive comments. You both had finally publicly spoken about your relationship, and you were worried about what his fans had to say about you. Although, Henry had already anticipated the impact this would bring to you, especially because you were a non celebrity girl, but it was essential for the two of you. You found some really supportive comments and were living your dream, but very quickly you met with your worst nightmare, a barrage of hateful messages and cruel memes, all directed at you and your hearing disability.

"Who would want to date a deaf girl?"

"It must be hard for Henry to communicate in sign."

"Bro the woman would find so hard to enjoy his husky deep voice lol"

"It's like dating one of those dolls which sing an 80's pop every time you tap the botton behind her ear. Lmao"

"She be making me him scream at night. Literally. ~ Louder Henry Louder!!"

"Bro's lucky in a way. He can scream, shout, and party till late while gaming and his woman won't know a thing."

The comments cut like a knife, each one reopening old wounds and insecurities. You know that your hearing aid makes you different, that it's something that sets you apart from others. But you never expected people to be so cruel about it. Not now. It wasn't highschool anymore. You were very young, a teenager, when you were riding home with your friend from school and her dad lost control of the car, causing the car to crash. Although, everyone had small bruises, and your friend broke a bone, you had a major impact on your left ear, damaging your insides. This led you to have a partial hearing disability permanently in your left ear, bounding you to a hearing aids' mercy forever. This did affect your adolescent massively, as you faced a lot of bullying and discouragement. But when you met Henry, a year and half ago, it didn't matter. You were a grown woman now, and this was just another accessory to your life like your phone. You did have some insecurities coming into a relationship with him, but he never made you feel like you had a disability, or addressed it like it was different to him in any way. In fact, he explained how it is simply the most normal thing, and is just like him wearing his contact lenses or glasses.

The memes are even worse. Some show Henry doing exaggerated gestures with his hands, with captions like "When you have to talk to your girlfriend in sign language." Others depict you as sitting unaffected with a moaning noise in the background, insinuating Henry cheating on you and you not finding out because of your disability.

It's all too much to bear. You feel like you're suffocating under the weight of the negativity. The tears come hot and fast, blurring your vision as you scroll through the endless stream of hateful comments. You can't help but wonder if Henry is regretting his decision to be with you. Maybe he's tired of having to repeat everything twice, or of having to speak slower so you can read his lips, every time you take the aid out. Maybe he's starting to think that you're in too much trouble, that he could find someone else who doesn't come with all this baggage. The thought makes your chest ache with a pain that's all too familiar. It's the same feeling you had after the accident that left you with your hearing loss, when you thought your life was over before it even began. You close your eyes, trying to shut out the noise of the rain and the hateful voices in your head, but it's no use. The darkness closes in around you, and you feel yourself slipping deeper into the abyss of your own despair.

You'rel sitting still, hugging your knees to your chest, as the raindrops keep tapping on the window. Soon, your body is shaking with sobs, and your chest feels like it's about to explode. You're clutching your phone so tightly, your knuckles turn white, scrolling through the horrible comments about you and Henry. Your heart is pounding so hard, you can feel it in your ears, and your breathing becomes shallow and rapid. You try to take a deep breaths, but it catches in your throat, and suddenly, you can't breathe. You gasp for air, but it's like someone is sitting on your chest, suffocating you. Panic takes over your body, and you feel like you're losing control. Tears are streaming down your face, and you can't seem to stop them. You feel like you're drowning, and you need air. You try to get up, but your legs give out, and you fall to the floor, hitting the wall hard. It hurts, but you don't care. You're beyond pain at this point.

Your hands are shaking so badly, you can barely hold yourself up. You hit the wall again, and again, and again, as if that could somehow make the panic go away. But it doesn't. It just makes your hands hurt, and your head feels dizzy. You start to pull at your own hair, feeling like you're losing your mind. You want to scream, but nothing comes out. You're trapped in your own body, and it's terrifying. You try to calm down, but the panic just keeps getting worse. Your vision starts to blur, and you feel like you're going to pass out. You don't want to, but you can't seem to stop it. You feel like you're falling into a deep hole, and you can't grab onto anything to pull yourself out. The last thing you remember is the raindrops tapping against the window, as you lay there, helpless and broken, before passing out right there on the floor.

An hour later, Henry finally came home and unlocked the door. He stepped inside the house, feeling a sense of relief wash over him as he kicked off his shoes and took a deep breath. It had been a long day, and he was looking forward to spending the evening with you, enjoying some wine and your company. "Honey!" He said his voice roaring in the house. Usually, you'd come running to him by this time, but he didn't see a sign of you. He thought you were probably in the loo, so he headed straight for the bedroom, box of chocolates and bottle of wine in hand, hoping to surprise you.

But as he entered the room, he realized that something was wrong. You were nowhere to be seen. The bathroom door was open, and when he checked, you weren't there as well. "Babe?" He called out to you, but there was no response. You never left the house without informing him of your whereabouts, and especially not in a weather that bad. He searched all the rooms, growing increasingly worried as each one turned up empty. Finally, he decided to give you a call and heard the faint sound of ringing, and followed it downstairs to the back room.

There, he saw you lying on the floor next to the patio window, passed out. "Baby? Fuck!" He said his heart sank at the sight of you. He rushed over to you, removing the blanket, as he picked you up in his arms. You were so still, it was as if you weren't even breathing. Henry felt his heart rate increase with fear, as he tried to wake you up, but you remained unresponsive. "God baby wake up, what happened here?" He decided to try and bring you to senses with some water, and ran to the kitchen to grab a glass. When he returned, he sprinkled a few drops onto your face. Slowly, your eyelids fluttering open, as you murmured his name. Henry felt a rush of relief, holding you close and running his fingers through her hair. "Oh thank God baby." He said kissing your head. He knew this had happened to you before. Every time you would stress out too much, you passed out. He carried you to the bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. As you slowly regained your bearings, he sat down beside you, holding your hand.

"What happened, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice full of concern as he rubbed circles in your hands. You explained everything to him through tears, how the comments about your hearing disability had sent you into a tailspin. Henry's blood boiled with anger as you recounted some of the cruel and hurtful things people had said. He hated this. He in fact blamed himself for it. If it wasn't for him being so famous, he could have had a normal life, and give a normal one to his family too. His popularity always kept him and his loved ones under a microscope, and one could survive only if they grow a thick skin like he did. He knew this was hitting you and would hurt you, and now he regretted announcing the relationship, seeing you like this. He hoped that people would at least have some decency, but he was wrong. The world was filled with monsters and he couldn't protect his girlfriend from them. "I am so sorry baby." He said barely over a whisper pulling you in his lap.

"Those people are just cowards hiding behind their screens," he said, trying to comfort you. "They don't know you, they don't understand what you've been through, and they definitely don't deserve to make you feel this way." He added running his hands through your hair as you sniffled, and he wiped away her tears. "I just feel so insecure about it sometimes, like it's something that makes me less than everyone else."

Henry shook his head, pulling you into a tight embrace. "No, baby girl. It's the opposite. Your hearing aid is a symbol of your strength and resilience, a testament to the fact that you've overcome obstacles that would have defeated most people. And as for those people online, they don't know anything about you. They don't know how beautiful, smart, and amazing you are. So they don't get to make you feel this way. I am sorry, I couldn't protect you from this." He said the last part, laced with guilt. "Plus it's a very normal thing. It's like me wearing contacts because I'm literally blind without my glasses. Jeez. I'm actually frustrated with what people get up to in their time and call others out on the most unexisting things." He said sounding very frustrated at this point. You looked up at him, your eyes shining with tears. "Thank you, Henry. I don't know what I'd do without you, and no this is not your fault. You can't change the world, and it is filled with horrible people. You cannot be accountable for every single one of them" He smiled, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. "You don't have to do anything without me. I'm here, always. And I'm not going anywhere." He leaned in, pressing his lips to your in a gentle kiss. "I know I'm broken, but you make me feel so beautiful and whole" You say melting into his embrace, feeling safe and loved in his arms. "Shhh baby, you're not broken. You're just beautiful. My sweet, beautiful, and intelligent princess. You mean the world to me, and I'm pretty sure my world is all round and beautiful and perfect." He said chuckling and making you laugh. In that moment, you knew that you were exactly where you belonged.

A while later, you feel Henry's arms wrap around you as he holds you close, the scent of his cologne enveloping you, as you both cuddle on the bed after a long day. You lean into him, feeling his warmth and strength as he holds you tightly. He pours some more wine into your glass, holding it up to your lips, encouraging you to take a sip. "Here baby, take some more" he said gently as you hold the glass. "Mmm are you trying to get me drunk Mr Cavill?" You asked chuckling as he simply just shrugs and smirks. As you sit in his lap, you squirm a little as he kisses your shoulder. You can feel his breath on your neck, sending shivers down your spine. His touch is gentle and loving, and you can feel the tension slowly melting away as he continues to kiss you. He pulls the sleeves of his t-shirt that you wore, down a little and whispers in your ear, "Baby do you know how beautiful you are? Mm?" He says in his deep raspy voice. You feel your cheeks flush as he continues to shower you with compliments, telling you how much he appreciates you and how much you mean to him.

He takes the glass from your hand and turns you around to face him, his eyes locking onto yours as he leans in to kiss you deeply. You can feel the passion and love in his kiss, and you respond eagerly, your body pressing against his as your lips meet in a fiery embrace. As the kiss deepens, you can feel your bodies entwining, your hands exploring each other's bodies with newfound passion. You feel Henry's hands on your back, pulling you closer to him as he continues to kiss you deeply. As the heat between you intensifies, you lose yourself in the moment, forgetting all of your worries and insecurities as you become one with Henry. You feel his love and devotion in every touch, every kiss, and every caress, and you know that you are exactly where you are meant to be. He swiftly enters you and lays you down, gently pounding into you not once breaking the kiss completely. He slowly picks up the pace and starts to make you feel like you're the only person that matters. "Mmm fuck my sweet princess. You're so fucking beautiful. I love you" He said biting your lip in a hard kiss as you feel yourself coming hard digging your nails in his flesh, as he fills you up. "MmI love you more Hen" you say enjoying the sweetness of this euphoric bliss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. You lay in his arms, as you feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You know that there will be more challenges and struggles ahead, but you also know that you will face them together, with his love and support guiding your way.

__

A/N: I hope you liked it! <3

[tuliptired]

Can you do one with Phoebe coming out to her family?

Cool Girl, Totally Untouchable (Ch 3/3!)

Pairing: Phoebe Spengler/ Melody

holy hell I loved writing this. Ty for your support!

read on Ao3 for better formatting and a better note!

The curtains were pulled in to block out any excess light, as per Melody’s request. Phoebe recoiled at the sight of fake blood, another innocent college student killed by the masked murderer in the mid-budget movie. They were huddled together on her bed, Melody on her stomach as she watched the film on the last laptop in New York that still had a DVD slot, let alone an attachment for cassettes.

Phoebe was comfortable, if not a little warm. She didn’t pay much attention to the sounds of death emanating from her computer, but rather the girl next to her. Melody had been to the firehouse at least twice a week for a while now- she had a few t-shirts and shorts to prove it. Phoebe’s eyes drifted over to the drawer they resided in, sectioned off so they didn’t get confused with her own. Her mom had suggested it offhandedly- Phoebe didn’t really care, standing over the open wardrobe wondering if she should wait for the dryer cycle to finish or just throw on Melody’s well loved concert memorabilia. She slept in her own pajamas that night, restlessly.

Her attention snaps back to the screen, as the scene changes for gore and guts to a room full of women changing. She can feel her blood pool in her cheeks as she rushes to turn the volume down, voice shaky.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, heart beat still fast at the sudden promiscuity, “these were in a stack from Ray’s basement.” Her voice grew quiet. Thankfully it wasn’t crazy explicit, her distaste for the now 70-something year old man left to a minimum. He was a geek in the 80’s, the gaudy nature of the sci-fi in the movie telling enough, but he was also a dude in the 80’s. She shuddered at the thought.

“I don’t mind.” Melody’s voice stopped her hovering finger from pressing down the “skip button”. She leaned back cautiously, letting the video play out. Melody really didn’t mind, expression intrigued as her head lay in her crossed arms.

Phoebe let out a breath, even more thankful that the scene was more dialogue than action. She followed the blonde in the pink top. Her hair was nice, that’s all. Cut short at her ears, eyes blue and eyelashes thoroughly curled. This must’ve been what they meant by “bombshell”.

“Think she’s cute?” Melody pointed to the woman, the question making Phoebe jump a little. Hm.

She didn’t really have an answer. She was definitely attractive, there was no denying that. If she was a boy, she’d date her.

“I dunno,” her voice was a little dumber than it usually was, to her at least. Not feeling like that was significant enough, she spoke up again. “If I was a boy, maybe.” Melody snorted.

She sat up on her arms then, examining the screen a little harder. “She’s nice. I like the brunette more, though.” It occurred to Phoebe that the blonde wasn’t the only woman on screen, and there in fact was a brunette, in the corner with a book in her lap, the only one with practical sleeping clothes on. It was weird, hearing a girl call another “nice” like a boy would.

She felt awkward, not responding. “She’s okay.” Phoebe hugged her knees closer to her chest.

“Okaaaay.” Melody suddenly leaned forward, rewinding the video, before stopping at a scene like the female-dominated one, except for it being a group of the male leads in a gym locker room. “What about them?”

Phoebe was thoroughly confused. Boys in a locker room. So what?

“What about them?”

“If you had to pick one. Which would you pick?”

She shrugged, brows creased slightly. They all looked the same. Guy with blond hair, guy with brown hair, guy with orange hair. “If I had to pick?”

“New question. If you had to pick between a girl and a boy.” Melody was invested in her experiment, as Phoebe grappled for a hold on the question. 

She was speechless. Melody posed a third question, fully sitting up like Phoebe was. “Do you like any of them?” There was a slight edge to her voice that she could see the girl cringe at.

“The blond guy is stupid, and his friends are dumber,” she confessed, not sure what it said about her. “The girl’s are smarter. Julie didn’t let Amy and Bethany go into the woods alone, because she knew they’d get caught by the killer.” Melody’s gaze and silence felt like a guillotine.

“Have you ever liked a boy?” The girl asked innocently as she messed with a loose thread on Phoebe’s comforter. 

She couldn’t remember a time in her recent memory where she liked anyone, not like she was supposed to. It was never that important to her, really. It was just the moments when her mom would call her a “late-bloomer” that it started to hurt. So, she resolved to run a test with Podcast while at a street fair before he went back to Summerville, as the weather cooled and the season transitioned to fall. She did all the cliche’s, complaining about the weather to get his jacket, sharing food. She didn’t feel anything, other than her friend’s coat around her shoulders and powdered sugar sticking to her fingers as he passed her a piece of funnel cake. 

She attempted holding his hand as they walked through the crowd. But, for the first time that evening, it felt worse than nothing, it felt wrong. She couldn’t pinpoint it- and she’s sure that on a regular day she would be fine with his hand in her’s, but she wasn’t right. She felt bad as she let it drop, but since then he’s never mentioned it. So they moved on, and she was eternally grateful that he’d played an unknowing, unprotesting participant in her study.

“I guess not.” Now it was her turn to mess with the loose fibers of her bedding. Jeez, this would need to be replaced soon. She turned her head, hesitantly but still curious. “Have you?”

Melody shrugged. “Sure. Alex Thompson.” Phoebe’s fist’s clench out their own conviction, jaw tightening a little. Fuck you, Alex. 

“Cool.” 

Melody hit her once on the shoulder, laughing prankishly. “Relax,” she teased, “we were in kindergarten.” Phoebe calmed a bit at that. Still, fuck you Alex. 

She remembered the laptop, the movie catching up to a part with only the female lead. “Have you? Liked…girls?”

Melody looked at her like the answer was obvious. “Of course.”

Oh. Phoebe nodded. “Both.” 

“Both.”

Phoebe felt the bed get lighter, as a loud thud hit the wooden flooring. Melody was on the ground, hands over her face.

“Oh my god, Phebes. You’re so gay.” The word felt like a projectile to the back of her head.

“I’m…” She didn’t have the words. “Plenty of…girls. Don’t like guys.”

“What do you think that’s called?” Stalemate. “Have you seriously never given it any thought?”

“I didn’t think it was important,” Phoebe’s voice raised, unintentionally, defensively. 

Melody sat up from the floor, eyes gentle and benevolent. “It’s not.” Her words soothed Phoebe’s bout of anxiousness. “It’s not.”

“Okay. Okay, I’m- I…like. Girls.” Melody applauded her from her spot on the ground. 

“Kudos.”

She shifted on the bed. It felt like there was a weight lifted off of her, which was quickly replaced with a new one. “This is so unceremonious.” Melody was next to her again. She moved fast, almost reminding Phoebe of a spirit. Almost.

“You’re not very ‘ceremonious’ yourself.”

“Ha. Ha.”

“How would you want it to happen? The realization?” Melody wiggled her fingers in the air, mystifying the hypothetical.

“I’m not sure.” In your arms, she so desperately wanted to say, against your lips. 

“But. Calling it. Gay. Feels so…official. I’d have to…come out? Right?” 

Melody shrugged, thinking about it. “Not if you don’t want to. You could surprise them like I did, call Jessica Rabbit hot.”

“I think I’d rather just tell them.”

The girl beside her rested her head against Phoebe’s. “Whatever you do, I’m proud of you. Be you, Phebes.” 

“Thanks.” I’m a better me when you’re around.

Her bedroom door opened, just mom. Still, both girls separated as the door opened a crack.

“Melody, your mom called. She wants you home.” 

“No fun. She never wants me home this early. Thanks for having me, Ms. Spengler.” She gives Phoebe’s hand a discreet squeeze before she rises, present to none but the two of them. “Bye, Phebes.”

“I can walk you home,” Phoebe starts, eager to see her go. Callie cuts her off.

“Gary’s got it, he’s in the car,” she held the door open. Phoebe deflated a little. “Goodnight, Melody.” As she went down the garage, the mother and daughter caught the beginning of a conversation about her Bikini Kill tote bag. The car doors shut, and they could hear the Ecto take off.

Her mom broke the silence. “You had fun?” She picks up the room a little, stealing a glimpse of the clunky computer as Phoebe moves to shut it. 

“SoCal Killer.” She instantly recognizes the movie. Great.

“Yeah.”

Phoebe liked girls. Okay, great. She went to bed earlier than usual, staring out her window as she tried sleeping above the sheets. Again, unceremonious. She’d wake up the next morning, brushing her teeth as she recalled her revelation. Cool. She’d make herself breakfast, shower, get dressed- nothing felt that different. She needed another variable.

“Trevor.” His head snapped up from whatever hunk of metal and gears he was messing with. He was catching up to her this summer. She’d get back into engineering at a later time.

“What’s up?” She was wrong- it was just a lego set. That he was doing in bed.

Phoebe stilled in the doorway. “You’re dating Lucky, right?” He looks around, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say dating. Not unless she said we were. Boy friends and girl friends don’t have to da-”

“Cool, whatever. Was her being a girl an important factor for you?”

Pure silence. “That’s a loaded question.”

“Answer. Please.”

He put down the separator he had in his hands, pondering it. “I…noticed it. But if I felt the way I do now about her, and she was a guy, there’s not much I can do to change that? I’m not sure I have what you’re looking for.” Interesting. She thanked him as she shut the door.

“Did she say we were dating?” 

More data. She liked girls, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. Just like Trevor couldn’t do anything about liking girls. Just like her mom couldn’t do anything about liking boys. She watched cars pass below, head against the cold glass of the window. What if she did want to come out? Trevor and Gary didn’t have hateful bones in their bodies. Dr. Stantz, Dr. Venkman, Dr. Zeddemore…she wouldn’t be surprised if they got a little experimental in the 70’s, so she puts them at the point of least concern. Her mom. She was reared Jewish, inherited from the father who didn’t raise her in addition to the mother who did. She was more agnostic, in her own way. She was mitzvah’d, and fulfilled Trevor’s request for one after casual Sunday schooling, but it never went farther than that. God lived in her, rather than out. Could she find God in her daughter, after being able to find it in a stack of old photographs? Could she find God in her daughter, after abandoning It in college?

Thoughts, thoughts, thoughts. Time passed, and she promised Podcast she’d hang out after returning Dr. Stantz’s collection. As she stepped into the kitchen to grab a water bottle, she ran into Gary, pulling a tray of colorful cookies out the oven. Rainbow cookies.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She watched on as he added them to a collection of dozens of other rainbow frosted pastries. 

“D’you want? They’re still warm.” He started to peel them off the baking pan with a spatula, not breaking eye contact with her.

“I figured. No, thank you.” She grabbed a water, slowly, retreating to the garage as she felt his eyes burn into the back of her head. Weird.

She enjoyed her time with her friend, but it was time to go home eventually. The only problem was, a random downpour kept her from being able to walk home. Thankfully, Trevor pulled up in front of Ray’s store, willing to drive her.

“Thanks,” she sighed as she sat down, rain clinging to her hair in the short time it took for her to run out to the Ecto.

Trevor nodded to her in the rear view. “Uh-huh.” They drove in relative silence, Trevor driving (obviously) as Phoebe started on a new book Ray had let her take home. A cough cleared the air.

“So.” Trevor glanced back at her. “Music?”

“It’s a 5 minute drive.” He connected his phone to the aux anyway. He fumbled with his playlists, already disobeying traffic laws when his guardians weren’t present.

He stopped his mix of driving and scrolling. “That one guy from the singing show mom likes- he made a new song.”

Phoebe turned a page. “That one guy.”

“Yeah. With nail polish.” A pause. “Isn't it cool that he brought his boyfriend to the awards?”

Her eyes stopped in the middle of a sentence. “Totally.” 

An even longer pause. “Want to listen?”

She cross referenced a subheading to something she read in the prologue. “I don’t think I’d like it, but you can if you want to.” In their long stint of being siblings, they both knew that it was code for “I don’t, but I’ll do it if it makes you happy.” Trevor’s previous attitude fell as he put his phone down, focusing on the road again. Weirder.

She reached home, a little tired and ready to sit in bed with her new literature. As she climbed the stairs, her mom was in their makeshift living area-laboratory, in front of their little box TV. There was a grainy, colorful video playing, as her mother stretched on the floor in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

“Hey, Phebes,” her voice was brighter than usual. “I was looking for an old movie in dad’s stuff, guess I found this instead.” She gestured to the TV as she pulled her arm across her body. A few women posed, stretching themselves in tight leotards, over tighter leggings. “Fonda. Fun to do on an ugly day like today- wanna join?”

Phoebe looked at the case on the couch, a happy woman on the front flexing her leg and hip muscles, dressed in 80’s workout attire. She looked back to her mom.

“Why did grandpa own Jane Fonda workout tapes?”

She took refuge in her room, finally. She tried calling Melody, but she didn’t get any response. That’s fine, it was around the time she was working, anyway. Still, the phone was kept by her pillow, just in case. She could make decisions on her own. If her family wants to be weird, she can be even weirder. It was time to tell them. It was admittedly a little scary, going into it with no coaching. It was terrifying, actually, no matter what she told herself. But, if she didn’t have to care about not liking girls before, she shouldn’t have to care about liking them now.

Her mom called her out for dinner. Paella. A very gay food. As they sat around the table and ate, Phoebe found her nerves ridiculous. Like a kid ready to drink their cough syrup, she dropped her fork.

“I have something to tell you.” Simple. To the point. All 6 eyes were on her, as she was given their undivided attention. Slightly scarier, now.

“I…” she could feel her breath and heart picking up on how scary it all was. She folded her hands, to keep herself grounded to what she had to say. “I like girls.”

No yelling. No hitting. No tears. No verses, from the Torah or otherwise. Not even a judgmental glance. But this felt worse.

“Oh, thank god.”

“Huh?” Phoebe never “huh’d”.

“We were scared you were homophobic.” Mom looked genuinely relieved.

“What-”

“You wear combat boots. Everywhere. You go to the barber. If that’s not gay, it’s something.”

“That makes me feel a lot better, thank you,” she unfolded her hands to defend herself sarcastically.

“Congrats. On being gay.” Trevor added his two cents.

“Unbelievable.”

“No, we’re so proud of you,” Callie took Phoebe’s hands in her own. “Because you told us, and you’re not a little bigot.”

Phoebe slumped over, embracing her mother’s touch. “What made you think I was…’

Gary reached over to the counter, a tupperware full of cookies in his hands. He still looked disappointed at her refusal. “You didn’t want a single pride cookie.”

Trevor nodded exasperatedly. “Didn’t wanna hear indie pop.”

Phoebe couldn’t get a word out before her mom cut in. “You didn’t even look twice at Jane Fonda. I thought you were an extremist.”

Her head hit the table. “Okay, okay. I’m not.” She could feel a rainbow cookie being placed on her plate beside her. A chair scraped against the floor, then two, then three. She could feel the arms of her family being wrapped around her shoulders.

“We love you so much, Phoebe. And she does, too.”

That hit her like a truck. It made things more complicated. Again, she was in her room, at the foot of her bed. She had a song playing, an artist that Melody enthusiastically recommended to her. As the song climaxed, she could hear the glass in her mind shattering. If she liked this girl, she actually had to tell her. Phoebe knew she loved Melody, that wasn’t the issue. In fact, she knew she wanted to hold hands with her, to share clothes, to let herself be lazy with her. All the things they did before. Just with a meaning, a name.

But to tell her? Painstaking. An extra layer of clarity lost like skin on her metaphorical wound. She’d laugh, call her adorable. Phoebe would watch on as Melody ripped out her heart and ate it whole. 

Or. She’d give her the same smile she fell in love with some time ago. She’d take her hands, Phoebe’s damp ones in her perfect, soft ones. She’d say words that Phoebe’d be too nervous to listen to, she’ll tease her about it for years. And they’d kiss. Electricity, or ghost magic would envelope them. The rest of the world, physical and spiritual, would avert their eyes, and they’d kiss. 

“I’m going. Out.” She stood behind the threshold of their bedroom as her mom folded clothes, laying them over Gary as he sat up in bed. Her hand was still on the doorknob as she looked at them, once. She normally never asked to go out, these days. Callie eventually nodded.

She let the door shut, before hearing a “good luck!” while she descended the stairs. Stepping out and out the dark of the street, she pulls her phone out.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Are you busy?”

They found themselves walking inside the walls of the Paranormal Research Center, all the way in Staten Island. Both were quiet. Phoebe clenched and unclenched her fists in her pockets.

Thankfully, they were alone, and these scientists didn’t bother to power down their equipment, blue glow illuminating their way. As Phoebe showed off the different ghosts, the blue lighting on Melody’s face made her breath hitch. She was ethereal. Phoebe ran out things to say as the question loomed over her, Melody across the room and peering into a machine.

“You really love this stuff, huh?” Phoebe stopped messing with the stuff on Lars’ desk. She hoped Melody couldn’t sense her anxiety.

“I love other stuff.”

“Enough to go all the way to Staten Island and break in?”

“Yeah.”

Phoebe stood behind her. It was a simple situation, but she found herself silently pleading. Please, turn around. I need to see you.

Melody turned, then. If she was psychic, she didn’t let on.

“Boo.” That same smile. Slightly shaky hands grabbing her’s. Phoebe could feel butterflies, moths, all flying insects fluttering around her stomach as the girl she loved gazed at her the way she’d dreamed of. She placed a tense hand on Melody’s cheek, afraid that she’d turn to mist before her eyes. They stayed like that for a few moments, just taking each other in. Fate. The universe. Finding God in another person. 

“Unceremonious,” Melody teased her quietly as she moved forward, closing the gap between the pair.

Phoebe got the closest she’d ever been to feeling like a ghost in that moment, the ghastly apparitions she fought and trapped. The beautiful souls she marveled at and studied. If this was the afterlife, she wouldn’t mind spending forever like this, soul merging with the girl she was in love with.

[sad-trash-pigeon]

hello do you wanna talk about sharks

here are

10 cool shark facts!

most sharks are colorblind!

contrary to popular belief, sharks arent smooth! their skin feels a bit like sandpaper

this one's a bit dark: if a shark embryo grows teeth while in the womb, it will partake in intrauterine cannibalism, which basically means it will eat its siblings in the womb

a shark can have up to 30k teeth!

whale sharks can live to be 100 years old!

a shark pregnancy can last anywhere from 5 months to 3.5 years

sharks have existed for over 400 million years!

the odds of you getting killed by a shark are 1 in 3.7 million

some female sharks can reproduce independently, leaving the males vulnerable as there's no use for them! #girlpower!

there are 440 different species of sharks!

ahh shark facts!! okay im gonna add onto some of yours and also say some more :)

5. it is so awesome how long they live, sometimes even to 150 years. but, scientists believe, that only around 10% of whale sharks make it to adulthood :( so despite being able to grow to 63 feet at most or 30-50 feet on average, the average whale shark makes it to only 13 feet long because they die so young.

(if my numbers are a little off im sorry, this is by memory)

10. i think that you might only be counting elasmobronchii sharks, because(fun fact) there are either 512 or 535 species of sharks, it depends on who you ask. there are 23 species of sharks that arent officially considered sharks (yet?) and some scientists still count them :)

okay here are my own !!

1. there are more than 150 species of catsharks! my favorite is probably the chain catshark because of their bioluminescence and beautiful pattern. ghost catsharks and demon catsharks are also cool(i just like their name)

2. whale sharks give live birth to around 300 pups at a time, and they go to a location so remote and far away from predators that scientists have no clue where they go to give birth

3. catsharks curl up into a little ball when theyre threatened to protect their underbellies

4. sharks have very sensitive electroreceptors called ampullae of lorenzini, which are formed as a network of mucas filled pores in the skin of sharks and other cartilages fish! they are able to detect the electrical signals that their prey create

5. pacific spiny dogfish can live for more than 80 years, while atlantic dogfish only live around 35-40 years

6. whale sharks and nurse sharks are both orectolobiformes :) they have 5 gills, 2 spineless dorsal fins, an anal fin and spiracles(paired openings that let in water and filter their gills. theyre by the sharks eyes)

(i described orectolobiforms by memory so if i forgot something, im sorry!!)

7. whale sharks can travel thousands of miles to different feeding grounds, but they only move at around 3 mph. theyre a migratory shark but they move so slow??

yay sharks!!

[paintaboveyourbones]

Thinking about what it would have been like to be a teenager in the early 90s forced to go on a cruise with your parents. Just rolling your eyes at all the gawky teenage boys that your parents keep telling you “are in the same grade! You have so much to talk about!”. And one day, while you’re bored out of your mind, you look up and realize that one dude from the band your older sister had been reeeeeeally into for a little while is ON THE SHIP WITH YOU. And the weirdest part is, night after night, he comes down and only wants to dance with women over 80. Every night, he’s just out there raking up them GILFs.

A few years later, you’re in college and Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo comes out and some things start firing in your brain. Maybe that’s what was happening, post MTV? God, you can’t wait for VH1 to remember this band existed. The Behind the Music episode is going to be wild.

Only that never happens. And maybe some more time passes and your kids are in the next room laughing at snapchat memes and you’re on the couch scrolling through Reddit, and someone posts “People who have seen celebrities doing weird shit tell your story”.

So you talk about being 14 on the cruise ship and seeing Lestat being the menace of the nursing home. And a bunch of people say “omg I totally forgot that band existed!” And someone else is saying you should cross post this to r/SatansNightOut and someone else talks about how they were there at the Cow Palace but mostly people are kinda a little grossed out or wondering if he was doing it for money or maybe that’s why the band threw him out because he was a silver chaser and being weird about it.

But one person says “you know what - good for him!”.

And then, maybe you think about him raking his fingers through the steel colored, cropped curls of an octogenarian in pink bike shorts and a macaw printed blouse with a visor her grandkids decorated with puff paint when you slip into bed that night, beside your wife, and you grin a little. You know more about getting older now. About how very little the opinion of others really means in the long run. Maybe you think of all those little common hurts you had growing up. Times when you would have chosen differently, maybe been happier earlier, if it hadn’t been for the scorning looks of others.

“Good for him,” you agree.

[littlesparklight]

When you're trying to assign Hecuba and Priam all their nineteen sons by going by who isn't named as illegitimate in either the Iliad or in Apollodorus.

You'd think it'd be easy, given the sum total of the list of sons on the Wikipedia list for children of Priam is actually way over fifty, but every time it's like "such and so was a bastard/mother unknown".

Stop that! I need nineteen male names not named as bastards!

I think I have it nailed down now, by using Hyginus' list and taking whoever wasn't also named in Apollodorus as a bastard. Plus ignoring that Apollodorus names Chromios and Echemmon as bastards; the Iliad does not, and I'd long since added them to my list and am not going to change it.

Ages in the last year of the war: Hektor (35 or 40 - 45 w/Bib.; 179 cm) Deiphobos (33 or 38 - 43 w/Bib.; 181 cm) Ilione, Laodike, Antiphos (31.5 or 36.5 - 41.5 w/Bib.) Paris (30 or 35 - 40 with the Bibliotheke/20 years given by Helen in the Iliad) triplets; Polites, Pammon and Kreusa/Eurydike (27 or 32 - 37 w/Bib.) - quintuplet sons; Hero, Dios, Axios, Hipposidus and Brissonios (25 or 30 - 35 w/Bib.) Kassandra & Helenos (22 or 27 - 32 w/Bib.) Hipponous (20 or 25 - 30 w/Bib.) Triplet sons (18 or 23 - 28 w/Bib.) Chromios, Echemmon, Polymelos (Troilos (dead, dies at ~13, would've been 19 in the last year, is Apollo's son.)) Polyxena and Polydoros (15-16 (she has her birthday between the Iliad and the fall of Troy, Polydoros is already dead by that point.))

Priam 80 in the last year of the war (Thick, curly pale brown hair. Blue-green eyes. Reasonably tall, sturdily built, so he looks very large. Very beautiful, even as an old man. 176 cm) Hecuba 65 in the last year of the war (More loosely curled, dark brown hair. Green eyes, more slender/slightly built than not. 160 cm tall) She is 46 when Apollo comes to her and Troilus is conceived.

[kultavalo]

Summary: Jake and Josh visit a museum on their day off and learn about the life and art of J.C. Leyendecker.

Tags: Josh x male!OC, fluff, emotional hurt/comfort, art history, brotherly bonding, marriage proposal

Word count: 8.9k

The museum was quiet that Wednesday morning.

Jake and Josh had gotten up early on their day off in Chicago. They had set out on just wandering through the city for a while, meandering in and out of shops, grabbing breakfast and coffee along the way. Simply enjoying their free time in a new city.

They had been walking for a few hours when the lightly overcast sky had turned dark and angry. When the clouds broke, the sudden and unrelenting downpour that was released forced them to seek shelter somewhere warm and dry. A museum had been their best option for a few blocks and the twins had always been able to appreciate all kinds of art.

Jake had grabbed a pamphlet on the current exposition as Josh paid for their tickets.

“J.C. Leyendecker.” he read while Josh shrugged off his soaked jacked and ruffled a hand through his rain flattened curls.

“Ever heard of him?” he continued, handing Josh the booklet as he peeled off his own coat and made an attempt at drying his hair with the flimsy scarf he’d been wearing. It didn’t do much but at the very least it stopped the long strands from dripping too much water onto his shirt.

Josh looked at the pamphlet as he waited for Jake to finish putting his jacket onto a hanger and shrugged.

“It looks vaguely familiar, I think he made ads and anti war propaganda in the early twentieth century? But honestly what artist from that time didn’t dabble in that kind of content.”

Jake smiled as they started walking into the gallery.

“Makes a living I guess.” he said, opening the booklet and finding the directions to a guided tour through the artworks.

He showed the map to Josh. “Ready to waste a few educational hours here?”

Josh glanced at the map, still absentmindedly fussing with his hair.

“Sure, “ he replied, “beats getting even more soaked I suppose.”

Jake let out a small laugh. “Always the optimist.”

Josh stuck out his tongue at his brother and Jake playfully bumped his shoulder as they walked past the first few sketches showcasing rough drafts of magazine covers.

“These are actually really pretty.” Josh said, eyeing a pencil sketch of a man straightening his tie in a mirror.

Jake flipped through the next page of the pamphlet. It held a little blurb about the artist which he read aloud as they slowly walked from painting to painting.

“Joseph Christian Leyendecker was one of the most prominent and financially successful freelance commercial artists in the U.S. He was active between 1895 and 1951 producing drawings and paintings for hundreds of posters, books, advertisements, and magazine covers and stories. He is best known for his 80 covers for Collier's Weekly, 322 covers for The Saturday Evening Post, and advertising illustrations for B. Kuppenheimer men's clothing and Arrow brand shirts and detachable collars. He was one of the few known gay artists working in the early-twentieth century U.S.”

Josh, who had only half been listening to his brother, more interested in the visuals in front of him, stopped in his tracks when he heard Jake speak the last sentence.

A small smile crept onto his face and a warm feeling started to bloom in his chest. It generally wasn’t too hard for Josh to connect to other artists, knowing the creative process and struggles all too well. But something inside him always soared when he could connect to them on a personal level like this. Finding another queer artist always made him happy, especially when they had lived and worked and loved freely during a time where that wasn’t generally accepted.

Jake looked up from the booklet when Josh had stayed quiet. He recognised the look on his twin’s face well.

When Josh had just come out to him in their early teens Jake had made it a point to listen to as many queer artists as he could find and show them all to Josh as an awkward, pre-pubescent way of showing his support to his brother.

Josh had always appreciated that.

So the fact that they had now unknowingly stumbled into an exposition on another queer artist meant a lot to the both of them.

Jake lightly bumped Josh’s shoulder with his own, shooting him a small smile in acknowledgement. Josh bumped back and mirrored Jake’s smile. It was a nice moment where words were completely unnecessary.

After a while they walked on to the next painting and Jake continued to read from the pamphlet.

“Leyendecker ,also known as 'J. C.' or 'Joe', was born on March 23, 1874, in Montabaur, Germany, to Peter Leyendecker and Elizabeth Ortseifen Leyendecker. His brother and fellow illustrator Francis Xavier, aka "Frank", was born two years later. In 1882, the entire Leyendecker family immigrated to Chicago, Illinois. A sister, Augusta Mary, was born after the family immigrated to America.”

Josh lazily walked past the paintings, staying within earshot of Jake and appreciating the art in an entirely new light.

He’d liked the imagines when they’d first walked in, simply enjoying the artistry and skill that obviously went into the creation of the paintings.

But now he was able to see beyond that.

He noticed how most paintings just depicted men, and in the few where women were also shown it seemed like the men looked at them at first glance, but when you carefully followed their eye lines you’d notice that they were almost always looking at other men.

He lightly chuckled at the subtle realization.

A few feet behind him Jake continued to read, having stopped momentarily to look at a few paintings himself.

“After studying drawing and anatomy under John Vanderpoel at the Chicago Art Institute, J. C. and Frank enrolled in the Académie Julian in Paris from October 1895 through June 1897. Upon their return to Chicago, the Leyendecker brothers took an apartment in Hyde Park. They also shared a studio in Chicago's Fine Arts Building at 410 South Michigan Ave.”

Josh looked back at Jake with a fond smile.

Jake walked up to him and slung an arm around his shoulder as they both looked at a picture of a young boy being happily fitted for his first suit.

“Brothers in art, working together.” Jake smiled, lifting his hand from Josh’s shoulder to ruffle his still damp curls.

Josh laughed as he pushed Jake’s hand away.

“Let’s just continue the tour dumbass.” Josh said with a smile.

They stopped in their tracks as they entered the next room.

The exact same face was staring at them from every painting. Sometimes he would be blond, sometimes dark haired, but the features were always identical; soft slightly round cheeks, a button nose, a slight widow’s peak, dimpled chin, and soft sleepy eyes.

The man was always neatly dressed in a suit or morning coat, placed in different situations; reading a newspaper, walking outside, smoking a cigarette. But it was always definitely him.

The twins shot each other a quizzical look and Jake continued reading from the pamphlet.

“This room is dedicated to Leyendecker’s muse and long time partner Charles Allwood Beach. Beach was Leyendecker's studio manager and frequent model, often posing for the Arrow dress shirts and collars ads. Beach quickly became the official face of the brand, effectively making their secret romance a front page feature across the U.S.”

Josh scanned the room once more. There must have been at least a hundred pictures covering the walls.

Showing this same man, depicted over many years, in many ways. And each of those pictures had been created by another man who obviously loved him very much.

A small lump started forming in his throat, and he had to blink a few times to keep his vision from going blurry with tears. He didn’t wanna cry right now, he wanted to look at every painting and be able to appreciate all their details.

Jake silently followed him around the room, looking at the pictures and leafing through the booklet for any more interesting information.

As they stopped in front of a painting of a man and a woman standing on a staircase while looking off to an unseen scene to the right, Jake continued reading out loud.

“In 1915 Leyendecker and his two siblings moved into a newly built studio and home in New Rochelle. A few years later in 1918 Beach joined them and took up residence at the house full time. The 1920s were in many ways the apex of Leyendecker's career, with some of his most recognisable work being completed during this time. This popularity extended beyond the commercial, and into Leyendecker's personal life, where he and Charles Beach hosted large galas attended by people of consequence from all sectors. The parties they hosted at their New Rochelle home and studio were important social and celebrity making events.”

Josh smiled wide, eyes never leaving the painting in front of him.

“I love that for them.” he muttered, voice coming out a bit crackly due to the lump still firmly wedged in his throat.

Jake looked at his brother, a soft smile played on his lips. He knew what the crackly voice meant. Josh was imagining the love these people had shared. He could visualize the house, the living together, the parties, the extravagance.

And Jake knew Josh was comparing it to what he and his boyfriend had right now. The quiet nights between tours, the holidays they shared, the love that had lasted them eight years and felt like a well that never ran dry.

Jake loved how happy Felix made his brother. Josh deserved all the love in the world and Felix seemed hellbound on providing that.

Josh was absolutely lost in thought. He was still looking at the painting in front of him but his eyes were miles away.

Jake didn’t want to interrupt, but he suddenly realized he really needed the bathroom.

He lightly placed his hand on Josh’s shoulder knowing that would make him pay attention to what Jake was saying but not fully snap him out of his daydream.

Josh turned his head ever so slightly towards Jake as he spoke. “You stay here for a bit, I'm gonna go find a toilet.”

Josh nodded lightly and grabbed the pamphlet as Jake pressed it into his hand, not wanting to take it with him as he went for a piss.

Finding the bathroom was a bit of a quest. The gallery didn’t seem to use directional signs and seeing as Jake had left the pamphlet with Josh he was unable to check the map for any clues.

It took him about five minutes of wandering in and out of art-filled rooms before he finally spotted a door with a sign that read “toilets”. Jake let out a relieved sigh as he slammed open the door and tumbled into the first stall he saw. He hadn’t fully realized how badly he needed to go until he was struggling to open his belt.

He washed his hands after he was done emptying his bladder and excited the bathroom feeling much more relaxed.

A feeling that quickly faded when he realized he had no idea which direction he had come from.

In his rush to find a bathroom on time he had completely neglected to pay attention to the turns he had made and which rooms he had entered. Lightly cursing at himself he started to try and find his way back through the maze of a museum.

It took him another seven minutes to find the Muse’s room again where he had left Josh, having gotten a little distracted by the art he encountered on the way.

Josh had moved to the other side of the room, his back now towards Jake. he was looking at a big sketch of two men standing next to each other, their backs turned towards the viewer, the man on the left casually resting his hand on the shoulder of the man to his right. The edges of the picture were lined with detailed sketches of one of the men’s head’s, the hand on the shoulder, and the other man’s hands gripping his gloves behind his back. It was a nice simple picture and Jake didn’t think too much of it.

Until he looked down at Josh.

Josh was standing, tightly hugging his own chest, the booklet still grasped in his left hand but now opened to a page Jake hadn’t read yet.

His shoulders were shaking softly and with a start Jake realized he was crying.

Worry washed over him as he slowly made his way over to his twin.

What could possibly have happened in the last… shit, fifteen minutes, had he really been away that long? But that still didn’t explain why Josh was crying. They both had their phones on them, if he’d been worried he simply would have called. And Josh had never been that codependent.

“Josh?” Jake spoke softly as he stopped next to him.

“What happened? Are you alright?” He tried to keep too much of the worry out of his voice but he was unsuccessful. Jake hated seeing Josh cry.

Josh let out a shaky sob as he turned to face Jake. his eyes were rimmed red and his cheeks were streaked with tears. For a moment Jake had thought the art had simply made Josh emotional but this was obviously more than that.

“It’s never gonna change is it?” Josh spoke, voice sounding small and hurt and so unlike how he usually sounded.

“What is?” Jake asked, slightly confused.

“Everything! The people, the hiding, the judgment, the shame. The inability to just live life and love without explanation!” Josh said, his voice steadily growing louder and sounding almost desperate.

He wiped at his face and sat down on a nearby gallery bench with a deep sigh, he stared at the ground for a moment as he handed Jake the pamphlet.

Hoping he’d find some answers there Jake quickly skimmed the page Josh had turned to in his absence.

Apparently Leyendecker’s success had only lasted about ten years. The rise of better film and photography equipment eliminating the need for photorealistic art, especially for advertisements.

The money stopped coming in. The parties became less and less frequent until they stopped entirely. The house he and Charles had built became a chore instead of a pleasure, and after J.C.’s brother Frank died in the early twenties the couple became more and more isolated as the brewing start of the second world war had relit the fires of persecution of prominent queer people.

When Leyendecker died on the 25th of July, 1951 he was pretty much completely isolated from the outside world. The remains of his estate were split evenly between his sister Augusta Mary, and his partner Charles Beach.

Upon his death Leyendecker had instructed Beach to burn many of his letters and paintings.

Beach had been unable to fully destroy these last vestiges of his love, instead selling them so he could continue to afford the upkeep on the house they had shared for thirty five years.

Charles died of a heart attack three years later.

Jake’s heart felt heavy with this new information.

He sat down next to his brother, wrapping an arm around his still shaking shoulders.

Josh spoke through ragged sobs.

“ What if you die first? And Sammy and Danny? What if Felix dies before me and I’m left all alone. Or what if I die before Felix and he has to burn whatever he has left of me because keeping it could mean he’d be putting himself in danger. It’s been almost a hundred years and I feel like barely anything has changed. We keep getting these glimmers of freedom only for them to be snatched away again at a moment's notice.” Josh sobbed into Jake’s shoulder and Jake’s heart shattered at these previously unspoken worries that had obviously been haunting Josh’s brain for a while.

“We’ve been together for eight years.” Josh continued.

“Eight full years. He’s the love of my life and I’m scared to hold his hand in public because that small sign of affection could sign our death sentence. I’m scared to touch him when we go to a restaurant, I’m scared to dance with him when we go out. I’m just so scared, all the fucking time and sometimes I feel like I just wanna stay at home with him and never go outside again cause at least when we’re together in our own space I feel safe.”

Jake hugged him tighter, putting down the pamphlet on the bench beside him and adding his other arm to the hug as well.

Josh was sobbing violently, heaving breaths wracking his body and despite being the same size, at this moment he looked incredibly small to Jake.

It took a good few minutes before Jake felt like he had the growing lump in his own throat under control enough to speak.

“I can’t predict the future Josh.” he started.

“No one can. And I don’t know who will die first, but I can definitely bet on my liver giving out before yours.” he paused as Josh let out a tiny huff, not quite the laughter Jake had hoped for but it was a start.

“No one is gonna burn anything, I’ll make sure of that. If anyone so much as takes out a match near any of your stuff my ancient ass is gonna take them out faster than they can say ‘grandpa put the sword down’” Josh chuckled slightly at that and Jake’s heart slowly started piecing itself back together.

“I can never fully grasp what you’re going through. And I hate seeing you suffer like this. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do to help change how scared you are and I hate that too. But I do know one thing.”

Josh looked up a little at his brother’s face, eyes even puffier than before, skin blotchy with tears.

“What’s that?” he muttered, wiping his sleeve across his cheeks.

“Felix loves you more than life itself.” Jake said with a smile.

“That man looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky.”

Josh gave him a watery smile at that.

“And I also know,” Jake continued, “That you love him more than anything too. Whenever you see him your face lights up like the fucking sun.”

Josh looked down at his hands for a moment, a smile playing on his face as he thought about the man whom he had spent the last eight years of his life with.

“Honestly we all thought you guys would stop being so disgustingly in love after a few years and just settle into tolerating each other like the rest of us mere mortals. But I don’t think you two will ever stop acting like lovey dovey teenagers who just confessed their first crush.” Jake laughed and Josh let out a small chuckle.

“I’m sorry our love is so unbearably cute Jake, we’ll try and tone it down a bit.” Josh muttered, still smiling as he absentmindedly picked at his nails.

Jake grabbed his shoulders, gently but firm enough to make Josh look at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Seeing you two like that makes me believe all is right in the world. I never really believed in true love man, but when I look at you guys… you radiate so much joy and positivity and care, I can’t help but feel loved just by proximity.”

Josh beamed at him through his tears.

“I love you Jakey. We both do.” he said as he sniffled and wiped at his nose with his sleeve.

Jake pulled him into another hug. “I love you too Josh.” he replied. “And I’m so incredibly happy you two found each other. No matter what happens, I’ll always make sure you’ll be safe.”

Josh let out a shaky breath and held his brother tighter. The future was just as unsure as it had ever been, but he knew it would be okay as long as he had his family.

After a few minutes of just sitting together in silent embrace Josh took a deep sigh and slowly let go of Jake.

“Do you wanna continue the tour?” he asked as he rubbed his hands across his still damp cheeks.

“Only if you want to.” Jake replied. “We can also check if the rain has stopped and go grab a coffee somewhere.”

Josh nodded at that. As much as he appreciated the art, it just reminded him of the struggles of the past. He needed to return to the present for a bit.

They silently made their way back to the lobby of the gallery.

Jake went to grab their jackets as Josh went to find a bathroom. He really did need to pee but he also appreciated the quiet opportunity to splash some cold water on his face before heading out onto the streets again.

He glanced at himself in the mirror above the sink. His hair was all frizzed up from the rain, his eyes were red and bloodshot, and his skin was blotchy and tear streaked.

He looked like a wreck.

As he splashed more water onto his face he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, signaling a text.

Probably Jake asking what took him so long.

He quickly grabbed a towel and dried off his face and hands before walking out of the bathroom, ignoring his phone.

He found Jake idling around the tiny museum gift shop, holding both their jackets in one arm and lazily spinning a rack of postcards.

“Has the rain stopped yet?” Josh asked as he walked up to his brother and took his own jacket out of his arms. The fabric was still a little damn but thankfully the sudden downpour hadn’t soaked it too bad.

Jake grimaced as he slipped his arms into his own jacket, the denim not having been quite as waterproof as Josh’s bomber jacket.

“I think so.” Jake replied, "looks a lot better anyways.”

It still drizzled slightly as they walked outside but it wasn’t too bad.

Jake was absentmindedly fiddling with his phone as they walked but he seemed to know where they were going so Josh simply followed him, mind racing too much to fully care where they’d end up.

After about a ten minute walk Jake suddenly stopped and Josh almost crashed into his back, not expecting the sudden cease of motion.

“What the- why did you stop Jake?” he asked, looking at him with a confused frown.

“We’re here!” Jake beamed, gesturing at the building in front of them.

Josh looked at the building, having been too lost in thought to notice it before.

It looked like a cute little cafe, two big windows sat on either side of the front door and wherever there was even an inch of exposed brick large trellises of climbing ivy had found their home.

There was a sun and a moon painted on the left and right windows respectively and underneath in golden lettering Josh read; “Sun and Moon cafe, purveyors of good coffee and safe spaces since 1876”

Above the front door a giant pride flag lazily waved in the slight breeze.

Jake was still doing what he always did when trying to cheer Josh up; research and connection.

As much as Jake was a walking thesaurus he often preferred to show his affection and support through actions.

Josh felt the lump in his throat returning in full force. He swallowed hard and shot his brother a warm smile before walking into the cafe.

The interior was cozy. Warm brown wood panels covered the walls and there were plants hanging from the ceiling. There were a few small window seats to both sides of the door. Two sets of steps on either side of the room led to a bigger elevated seating area and nestled between the stairs was a small barista bar.

The walls were covered with posters and artwork promoting all kinds of pride events, drag performances, and community events. Some posters seemed to date back at least fifty years.

Jake closed the door behind them and quietly shuffled past Josh until he stood in front of him.

“How about you go and find us a table, I’ll order the drinks.” he said, smiling as he saw Josh look around in wonder.

Josh quietly nodded and slowly made his way up the stairs, still looking at all the posters lining the staircase.

The upstairs seating area was quiet. There was a woman in a corner booth leafing through a book as she absentmindedly stirred her coffee. One of the tables near the right staircase was occupied by two men talking together and laughing.

Other than that the cafe was empty. It was a Wednesday afternoon after all, Josh had almost forgotten that.

He looked around at the tables, trying to decide which one would give him the best view of the restaurant while still being able to pay attention to Jake when he noticed something peculiar.

All of the tables had been scratched to shit. The surfaces and the table legs looked rough, like a herd of cats had attacked them on a daily basis for years.

But when he looked closer he realized it wasn’t just random scratching. There were names and hearts and full sentences and declarations of love, carefully carved on every square inch. None of them seemed to overlap.

He traced some of the letters with a finger, trying to read what it said.

“Forever yours, Sue and Bonny”

“Ted + Allen, never apart “

“Roberta and Juliet, rebels for life”

"Joe and Charlie, in this life and the next"

On and on the carvings went and Josh wanted to read them all.

“Oh cool! The website said this would be here but I didn’t know if it would be accessible.” Jake said as he carefully climbed the stairs holding two giant cups of coffee and lightly startling Josh out of his focus.

“What are you talking about Jake?” Josh asked.

“Well I did a little google search for some cool cafes when you were in the bathroom and this place was pretty high on the list.” Jake answered as he set the two cups down on a table near the left hand stairs.

“Apparently it’s one of the first public queer spaces in the country, and somewhere in the early twentieth century a tradition was started for couples to carve their names into the tables to make their relationships official. It basically meant you were married.”

Josh stared at him slack jawed. Jake nonchalantly sat down at the table, taking a sip of his coffee and scrunching his nose a bit before grabbing the sugar.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re the best brother in the history of all brothers?” Josh said as he slowly slipped into his own seat, still in awe at how considerate Jake had been.

“Yeah, Sammy says it quite a lot actually.” Jake smiled as he took another sip, now seeming more satisfied with the taste.

Josh snorted at that. “Well I know that’s a lie.” he chuckled as he took a sip from his own coffee.

“You’re right.” Jake nodded sagely “Danny actually says it the most.”

Josh laughed loudly.

“Now that I do believe!” He remarked as Jake let out a laugh of his own.

The pair chuckled for a few minutes, not really laughing at the bad joke but simply being caught in a fit of giggles that kept bubbling up as soon as one of them got quiet.

The day had been much more emotional and draining than either of them could ever have expected and the small moment of levity was like a breath of fresh air.

As their giggles finally died down Jake leaned back in his chair with a small sigh, face angled towards the ceiling, eyes closed, simply enjoying the quiet of the cafe for a moment.

Josh looked down at the table and thought about what Jake had said the carvings meant. His fingers went back to lazily tracing the letters as he spoke softly.

“I’m gonna ask Felix to marry me.”

Jake’s head quickly snapped back to look at his brother’s face. Josh almost looked shy. His fingers still tracing the carvings, eyes focused on the movement.

“Holy shit!” Jake exclaimed. “Finally!”

Josh let out a laugh at that.

“I felt like it was time.” he said, still not meeting Jake’s eyes.

“You don’t fucking say.” Jake replied. “I mean I’m not saying there was a betting pool or anything but both mom and Sammy definitely owe me money now.”

Josh finally looked up, a frown on his face. “You bet on whether or not we’d get married?” he asked, sounding slightly offended.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Jake replied. “We always knew you were gonna get married. We were just betting on who would ask who first.”

Josh let out a snort. “You fuckers are unbelievable.” he laughed.

“When are you gonna ask him?” Jake asked when his twin had stopped laughing.

“I don’t know yet.” Josh replied. “Trying to think of the right moment.”

Jake nodded. He tried to think of the best way to go about proposing to someone but anything he could come up with just didn’t feel quite right.

“Do you have a ring yet?” he asked instead.

Josh looked down at his hands again, trying to hide the blush that slowly crept up on his cheeks. He nodded his head lightly.

He slipped one hand into the front of his shirt and pulled out a long silver necklace on which a beautiful silver ring hung.

The band was a little over a quarter inch in broadness. The outer edges were slightly raised and in the middle of the band there were several stars engraved, their centers adorned with tiny diamonds that reflected a multitude of colors in the soft cafe lights.

“Shit man, that’s gorgeous.” Jake whispered in amazement, eyes wide as he took in the tiny work of art.

“Thanks.” Josh smiled. “I designed it.” he carefully placed the chain back under his shirt, placing his hand over the fabric, softly pressing the ring against his chest.

“Why do you have it on a chain though?” Jake asked. “Aren’t you scared you’re gonna lose it?”

“ A little, I guess.” Josh replied. “But wearing it like this against my skin… I don’t know, it sounds stupid.” he quickly took another sip from his coffee, looking around the room to try and avoid eye contact.

Jake positioned himself right in Josh’s line of sight, making it nearly impossible for Josh to look away from his brother’s face.

“Come on man, you can tell me, I promise I won’t say it’s stupid.”

Josh sighed and looked into his cup as he spoke, still avoiding looking directly at Jake’s face.

“Wearing it like this against my skin makes me feel like I'm charging it up with my love.” he said, face turning bright red.

“I commissioned it six months ago, received the finished product three months later and I’ve been wearing it every day since.” he shot a glance at Jake who just looked at him with a goofy smile.

“You’re such a romantic Joshy.” Jake smiled as he rested his head on his hands in a theatrically lovestruck way.

“Honestly if Felix doesn’t say yes I just might.” he continued shooting Josh a toothy grin and a wink.

Josh snorted into his coffee and smacked Jake on the shoulder.

“Gross dude!” Josh laughed as he wiped the foam off of his top lip.

“I hope you’re not talking about the coffee.” a familiar voice spoke behind them.

“I could really use some caffeine after that flight.”

Josh turned around with an incredible speed. He would recognise that voice anywhere.

“Felix?!” he exclaimed in shock as he looked upon his boyfriend who was definitely here and holding a suitcase and might have heard… oh god he could have heard everything.

“What- how- when- what are you doing here darling?!” Josh was at a loss for words, a feeling he was not too overly familiar with.

“Well sweetheart, maybe if you checked your phone more than twice a day you’d know.” Felix laughed.

Josh frowned and quickly grabbed his phone out of his pocket. The only one who had texted him today had been Jake when he was in the bathroom.

But one look at his screen quickly reminded him that even though he had felt the message come in, he’d never actually checked who had sent it. The message read:

“Hello my love, I managed to get the next two weeks off from work so I’m hopping on the next available flight to Chicago. Let me know where in the city you are and I’ll come to you. Miss you, love you, see you soon.”

Josh stared at his phone in confusion.

“But I didn’t reply so how did you-” his sentence was cut off by Jake loudly slurping his coffee. He wiggled his fingers in a little wave and shot Josh a shit eating grin when he looked up from his phone screen.

“You motherfucker…” Josh whispered, eyes wide in realization.

Jake made an exaggeratedly insulted face, pressing one hand to his chest as if he were clutching a pearl necklace.

“Come now Joshy.” he said, tone trying to match his expression but unable to keep the amusement in his voice from slipping through.

“If it hadn’t been for this motherfucker that poor boy would have spent all day wandering the cold empty streets of this big scary city! You wouldn’t have wanted that would you?”

Josh rolled his eyes at Jake and instead turned his attention back to Felix who was trying his best to suppress his laughter.

The shock at suddenly seeing his partner had started to fade away and instead Josh was now awash in an overwhelming feeling of love that seemed to flow out of a bottomless pool in the pit of his stomach.

He wanted to hug Felix and never let go, kiss him until his lips were red and sore. But the bubbling flow of love flowing through his guts was quickly poisoned by fear. They were in public.

He got up from his chair and walked over to Felix, using all the restraint he could muster to simply give him a friendly hug. It hurt him, having to let go so fast, but their safety was worth more than his emotional comfort.

As they let go however, Jake softly cleared his throat behind them.

Josh looked back at his brother and saw him silently tapping a pride sticker pasted on the wall next to their table.

Jake was way too fucking observant.

But a slow realization did start creeping its way into Josh’s mind.

This was a queer bar. A safe space. They could be as affectionate as they wanted here and no one would care. The fact that there were barely any people in the bar also helped ease the anxiety when Josh turned back to his boyfriend and softly kissed him on the lips.

Their first kiss in public resembled their first kiss in private an awful lot.

It was shy and soft and sweet and perfect. Felix had wrapped his arms around Josh’s waist, pulling him flush against his chest. Josh stood slightly on his tiptoes as he draped his hands around the taller man’s shoulders, one hand automatically snaking its way into his hair like it had done so many times before in the privacy of their own home.

They held each other for a long while, pressing their foreheads together once their lips disconnected.

“I missed you so much.” Josh whispered against Felix’s skin.

Felix smiled and pressed their lips together once more before replying. “I missed you too, so much.”

Josh hugged him tightly for a moment before letting go and, now fully realizing what he’d done, anxiously looking around the room.

No one looked at them. No one had even seemed to notice them. The woman in the corner was still reading her book and the two men at the table across from them were too caught up in their own conversation to pay them any mind.

Jake was silently sipping his coffee and reading through the menu that came with the table, making a valiant effort to grant them some semblance of privacy.

Josh turned back to Felix, heart still racing from love and anxiety and the general whirlwind of emotions the day had brought.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, unsure which emotion his voice would linger on when he spoke.

“You wanted coffee right?” he asked, voice having landed on anxious giddiness. “I’ll get you some coffee.”

Felix nodded with a smile. “Coffee would be nice, thank you my darling.” he said, giving Josh’s bicep a squeeze before taking a seat at their table.

Josh smiled back before walking down the stairs to order at the till. His head still swam and it took him a few moments before he actually realized the woman behind the counter had spoken to him.

She slowly waved a hand before his eyes and gave him a warm smile as he blinked out of his musings.

“Hello there.” she smiled. “Back again from far away?”

Josh shot her an apologetic smile back. “Sorry, yeah, bit distracted at the moment.”

“No worries, what can I get for you.” she asked as her hands idly fluttered over the till, waiting to enter his order into the system.

“Uhm, I’ll have a large latte please and…” his sentence drifted off as he looked at the glass cabinet filled with baked goods.

Josh could feel his stomach rumbling, not really having eaten since breakfast which would have been at least six hours ago by now.

The cabinet was filled with all manner of cakes, cookies, and sandwiches. The amount of choice was a little overwhelming.

“Uhm.. what do you recommend?” he asked the lady as he gestured at the many food options.

She smiled as she excitedly walked Josh through her favorite options. He eventually picked a spicy cream cheese and cucumber sandwich for Felix, a salmon and lox bagel for Jake, and a slice of carrot cake for himself.

He paid for his order, waited a few minutes for the drinks and food to be prepared and then took the tray of items up the stairs and back to their table.

He walked slowly, not wanting to drop the tray on his way up the narrow staircase. As he got about halfway up he started to catch slivers of a conversation. Too focussed on the tray he was carrying, it took Josh a while to realize the conversation he was overhearing was between Felix and Jake.

Josh always loved when his brother and his boyfriend shared a moment together. They didn’t have much in common, having completely different jobs, hobbies, and general interests. But whenever they found something they could both nerd out over, Josh enjoyed nothing more than to just sit back and watch them have fun together.

This conversation didn’t seem to be about some new tv show or movie they had both seen though. Josh wasn’t sure what it was actually about.

“You can’t go first man, you’ll make me lose money!” Jake’s voice came in a hushed tone.

“Jake, I really don’t care about your stupid bet.” Felix replied in the same tone.

Bet, bet… what bet? Why did that sound so familiar?

Were they talking about Jake’s bet about who would propose first? But why would they be talking about that?

Josh’s racing mind was cut off by Jake’s voice, now speaking at a normal level.

“Oh sweet, I’m starving!” he exclaimed.

It took Josh a second to realize what his brother was talking about, until he remembered he was still holding the plate of food and Felix’s coffee which was now slowly getting cold.

He quickly continued up the stairs and placed the tray on the table, distributing the food and sitting down next to his boyfriend.

Felix gave him a warm smile and comfortably slung an arm around the back of Josh’s seat and Josh’s heart fluttered.

The anxiety he had felt earlier that day about not being able to share these little moments with his partner seemed like such a distant memory in a way.

Of course it wasn’t fully gone. 27 years of fear doesn’t just go away with one good experience.

But the fact that these comfortable tiny things were now a part of his reality made him feel safe in a way he had rarely felt outside the confines of his own home.

Josh smiled back at Felix and took a bite of his cake when he remembered the confusing conversation he’d overheard as he walked up the stairs.

“So what were you guys talking about?” he asked nonchalantly between another bite of cake and a sip of his now lukewarm coffee.

The panicked look Jake and Felix shot each other didn’t go unnoticed by Josh. but he chose not to comment on it, too curious to see what reply they’d come up with first.

“A movie.”

“Music.”

Their replies came at the same time.

Josh raised his eyebrows and shot both of them a look over the edge of his coffee cup.

Felix looked absolutely terrified and Jake resorted to taking the biggest bite of his bagel he could possibly fit in his mouth and desperately avoiding any and all eye contact with anyone.

The answer as to what they had been discussing was pretty clear.

Even though he was immensely amused at their reactions, he kept a straight face as he put his cup back on the table and stood up.

“I see,” he spoke gravely. “If you two will excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

And with that he turned his back to them and descended down the stairs again.

He could hear their panicked whispers behind him and something that vaguely sounded like Jake choking on his bite but he paid it no mind.

He simply walked back to the coffee bar and waited in line behind some new customers who had just entered.

He patiently waited for the people in front of him to finish their order and smiled at the woman behind the counter when his turn came.

“Back so soon?” she smiled back “everything okay with your order?”

“Yes the food is great, thank you.” Josh replied.

“I was just wondering, is everyone allowed to carve into the tables? Are there any rules?”

The woman behind the counter, Josh now noticed her name tag read ‘Jocelyn’, gave him a knowing smile.

“I’m very happy you asked.” she said as she dug behind the counter and pulled out a clipboard with a form.

“It used to be a bit more informal,” she said, seeing the confused look on Josh’s face.

“But seeing as this has been declared a historic establishment we now unfortunately have to deal with a bit more paperwork.”

Josh nodded as he started to read through the form. It wasn’t too complicated, simply a list of rules, an empty space to fill out what you were about to carve so if it ever became unreadable evidence of it would still exist, and a place to sign to signify you had read the form.

The rules were pretty standard;

Don’t carve over any previous carvings.

No obscenities.

Don’t damage the table in any way that could compromise its functionality.

The carvings can take up no more than two and a half by two and a half inches.

Josh filled out the form and handed it back to Jocelyn who quickly skimmed through it and put it back behind the counter.

“Very nice. Do you have a carving utensil or would you like to borrow one?” she asked as she looked back up at him.

“Oh uh, I’ll borrow one please.” Josh smiled sheepishly, not really having thought about how he would actually create the carving.

“Of course.” she smiled and rifled behind the counter once more.

A few seconds later she handed him a short stubby knife. It definitely looked sharp enough to do the job, but the blade was also short enough to avoid accidentally cutting your fingers.

Josh beamed brightly at her.

“Thanks, I’ll return this before we leave.”

Jocelyn nodded back with a smile. “Have fun and be safe!”

Josh straightened his face again as he walked back up the stairs, keeping the knife out of view as much as possible.

Jake and Felix were quiet, panicked whispers having died down; they now both stared into their respective coffee cups, looking slightly shell shocked.

Josh almost felt bad for them. Almost.

Felix looked up at him as he stepped foot on the landing. He opened his mouth to speak but Josh simply raised his hand to cut him off.

He sat back down in his seat and looked at the table for an empty spot. The table was pretty much covered but as he moved his plate of cake he found a spot that seemed to be just the right size.

“Josh, sweetheart, what are you-” Felix started as Josh started dragging the short blade over the wood.

“Josh what the?!” Felix sounded alarmed at his actions, not used to seeing his boyfriend perform random acts of vandalism in public. But out of the corner of his eye Josh saw Jake put a hand on Felix’s arm to quiet him.

“Shh, it’s allowed.” Jake spoke.

Above his head Josh could hear his brother and his boyfriend quietly arguing but he didn’t pay much attention to what they were saying. He was too focussed on making sure the letters of Felix’s name would be readable for a very long time.

As soon as he was satisfied with his handiwork he sat up and handed the knife to Felix, cutting him off mid sentence.

“Here, now you carve my name.” he said, holding the handle of the blade out to the love of his life, who still looked incredibly confused but to his credit did take the knife and did as he was instructed.

Josh shot a glance at Jake who also still looked somewhat puzzled but as Felix started carving realization seemed to dawn on him and a smile started tugging at the corners of his mouth.

While Felix was focussed on the table Josh deftly unclasped the necklace from his throat and let it drop into his lap. He silently slipped the ring off of the chain and held it in his left hand as his right nimbly stuffed the necklace into his pocket.

It took a minute but soon Felix too had finished his carving and sat back up, handing the knife back to Josh.

Josh finally allowed himself to smile as he took the knife and carefully placed it onto the table.

“There.” he spoke, shooting a sly grin at Felix. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”

Felix’s eyes frantically shot back and forth between the twins.

“What?” he asked, voiced small and confused.

Josh smiled at his husband.

“Carving your names into the table has been a tradition here for queer couples for over a century. In times where legal marriage wasn’t possible this meant that you were married in any way that mattered. We’re married now darling. And I know that bulge in your pocket isn’t just ‘cause you’re happy to see me so come on pretty boy, show me what you got.”

Felix’s puzzlement turned into a wide grin as he dug into his pocket and took out a box.

Josh stared in awe at the silver band that rested against the blue velvet lining of the box.

In the center of the band there was a tiny, expertly engraved depiction of a sun with a face. It was almost reminiscent of a tarot card with its closed eyes and soft smile. Engraved tendrils of lights shot off from its face and encircled the ring. It was beautiful.

Felix was equally in awe as he stared at the ring in Josh’s palm.

Their hands shook slightly as they placed their rings onto the other’s fingers and when they looked up at each other’s faces they saw their own watery smiles mirrored back.

Their lips met in a teary eyed kiss and for a moment it felt like they were the only ones in the room.

Even though it wasn’t technically official, the way Josh felt as he disconnected his lips from Felix’s to look back down at their names carved into the table told him that the man he now held in his arms, the man he had held as close as humanly possible for the last eight years, was now really, truly his for life.

Josh looked back at Felix, pressed their foreheads together and let out a wet laugh as Felix suddenly started peppering his face in kisses.

He managed to get both Josh’s cheeks, his left eye, his forehead and the tip of his nose before Josh devolved into a fit of giggles and grabbed Felix’s face with both hands, holding him still as he stared into his husband’s eyes before pressing their lips close again for another deep kiss.

They were so lost in eachother that the sudden sniffle emanating from the other side of the table actually startled them.

Jake hadn’t meant to snap them out of their moment but the tears had been running down his face ever since they had finished the carving and if he hadn’t sniffed his nose at that moment he would truly have turned into a blubbering mess.

Josh smiled softly at his brother.

‘Are you crying Jakey?” he asked, trying to sound teasing but unable to keep the real emotion out of his voice.

“Shut up. No I’m not.” Jake sniffled back, wiping at his eyes and nose with the back of his sleeve, silently cursing at the apparent lack of napkins in this cafe.

“I’m just upset that seeing as neither of you fuckers actually proposed no one is gonna win the bet.” Jake said, tears still streaming down his face.

Josh and Felix both let out a loud snorting laugh at that and scooted their chairs over to each side of Jake in order to trap him in a warm hug.

“Let go assholes,” Jake protested weakly “you two just lost me a lot of money!”

“Oh boo hoo.” Josh chuckled as he squeezed his twin tighter. “Maybe that’ll teach you not to bet on people’s important life events.”

Jake grumbled some curses under his breath but his hands snaked around both Josh’s and Felix’s waists in order to return the hug.

After a few moments of comfort they all let go and scooted back to their own seats.

They finished their food and coffee and talked about how to start planning an actual wedding, who to invite, where to have it, what they would wear, color schemes, etcetera.

After a while when Jake started suggesting they go with purple and green for the colors the newly weds decided it was time to leave seeing as Jake was obviously getting bored.

As they walked downstairs Josh remembered to return the knife to Jocelyn.

She gave him a bright smile as she saw him approach the counter, holding Felix’s hand.

“All done?” she asked as she took the knife from Josh and stored it back safely in its designated spot.

“Yes. Thank you.” Josh smiled back and the three of them started walking towards the door.

“Wait! I have something for you!” Jocelyn called after them.

The three men stopped and turned back as she put a small box obviously meant to carry home baked goods on the counter.

Josh, Felix, and Jake looked through the little plastic window at the top of the box. Inside were two cookies, beautifully decorated with lavender flowers made out of icing and swirling letters that read “Just Married”

It took all three of them some conscious effort to keep the tears down once more as Josh and Felix profusely thanked Jocelyn.

Jake picked up the box of cookies as Felix was still dragging his suitcase around in his right hand, and his left hand refused to let go of Josh and Josh in turn hand lost his right hand to his husband and his left hand was desperately trying to open Felix’s umbrella as they stepped outside into the drizzling rain.

Josh finally managed to get the umbrella open and he and Felix walked with their shoulders pressed together and their hands entwined. More free and in love than they ever had been.

Jake couldn’t help but smile and take a picture as he watched his brother and his brother-in-law walk out onto the gray streets of Chicago.

He also snapped a shot of the cookies in his hands and sent both pictures to the family group chat. waiting for chaos to ensue, he turned off his notifications and quickly hurried after the two love sick idiots in front of him, cursing himself for not bringing an umbrella of his own as the skies above him opened up once more.

[honeysmoonn]

white mustang — send a description of yourself and i’ll ship you with someone! (the outsiders and outer banks only!)

okay so i’m honestly happy with either fandom as you know i love them both but i would prefer it to be a male character as i’m straight <3

now prepare yourself because this is gonna be detailed 🤭

i have long curly blonde hair (it’s nearly at my waist now and is blonder than normal because of the sun) i love it sm now it’s like princess hair 🤭 i have downturned doe eyes that are constantly switching between blue, green and grey. i always curl my lashes and wear mascara because sadly naturally i have very straight pale lashes. i have a slim, slight figure and am tanned because it’s summer!!! my face has a lot of freckles now and but so does my body. i have a small ring of freckles on my knuckle which i love!!! my cheeks are always flushed and i have baby blue braces. the way i dress is very coquette, girl next door chic. think white lace blouses paired with jean skirts or pretty floral dresses. simple, girly angelic and preppy. basically rory gilmore if she was one of the lisbon sisters.

i’m extremely physically affectionate. my friends irl will tell anyone that because i’m nearly always holding their hands or looping my arms with theirs. my love language is definitely physical touch. i’m an infj and a libra. i also get told that my personality reminds people of miss honey or cinderella. so i guess that means i’m pretty soft spoken and kind. i’m very quiet when i first meet people but once they probably know me i can ramble for ages about my hyper-fixations.i can be kinda naive but only because i always wanna see the good in people!!! i don’t really get angry or when i am angry i just end up crying.😔

i really love classic literature and vintage books!!! along with vintage movies (especially audrey hepburn movies, i’m literally obsessed with her) i love alternative music from the 80s. think the smiths, blondie, the cardigans + i know it’s not from the 80s but lana del ray <333 though to be fair i just adore anything from the past. but also i love listening to vintage love songs. i love pressed flowers and journaling! basically any hobby that is typically old fashioned is my kind of activity 😭

thank you my lovely for doing this i’m so excited to see who you ship me with tbh as i have high hopes that it’d be pretty accurate coming from you <333

OK HEAR ME OUT… i ship you with john b😟

i feel like his type is definitely blondes and he would kiss your knuckles btw.

i’m a believer that john b’s love language is also physical touch so that matches up well! be would hold you and listen while you rant for however long you want. he thinks your style is sooo cutesy but would probably tease you for having grandma hobbies LMAO

IDK I JUST HAVE A VISION

[mattiehenderson]

Elf-Witch

Synopsis: my first Stranger Things fic, don't be hard on me please. I'm so happy to see an 80s metalhead represented in a positive light for ONCE! I couldn't help but fall in love with him just like everyone else with taste. So I prefer writing male x male romances, and can I just say we need way more bottom princess male reader and dom daddy Eddie fics. This is my attempt to try and help with that. So this story focuses on my OC, Matthew "Mattie" Henderson, he's Dustin's older brother who's a senior. Heavily bullied for being so effeminate and goth. He has always had a crush on Eddie Munson since freshman year, but unfortunately Eddie is straight...or is he?

Warnings : Sexual language and imaginations. Minors do not interact, 18+.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Henderson!OC

☆☆☆☆☆▪︎☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Look at me, please turn around and just look at me.

I stared intensely at the boy who sat in front of me in English, wavy chestnut curtains of hair poured past shoulders too broad for a normal senior, and onto my desk.

I could smell his v05 shampoo, the aloe one, and the Irish spring that almost hid his signature Marlboro and kush cologne. Slowly, quietly, I inhaled the scent that was all things Eddie Munson, the eternal prisoner of Hawkins High School.

In my marble notebook that was graffiti'd with cutouts of my favorite bands and scented stickers, I sketched an imprisoned Eddie in a medieval, hooded cloak behind bars, and coming to rescue him was a soft looking male witch. It went along with the story I was secretly writing for my own pleasure, the poor dungeon master who has been trapped in the dungeons of Hawkeye Castle for 400 years, under an evil queen's spell. Perhaps I named her Queen Cristiana of Hawkeye, after a certain stupid cheerleader that I always see hanging around a certain metal head after hours.

I don't know why I do this to myself, in what universe do I have a chance? Maybe in my own universe in my own land of make believe, but nymphs and orcs and furies also exist there so there's that.

In the real world, Chrissy Cunningham is the most beautiful girl in Hawkins, she's the head cheerleader and smells like Anais Anaïs, she has perfect hair and she's a she.

I, Mattie Henderson, am a boy. Not only am I a boy, but I'm a boy who wears more makeup than any girl in school. I wear my bleached curls too long and listen to darkwave. Eddie Munson would never!

I gently huffed before I finished sketching the scene where Matthias the Enchanter, in his red violet cloak and gossamer garments, shared a kiss with Sir Edward the Banished. 

It was hilarious really. I have known him since I was a freshman, secretly pining, and knowing we have many interests in common, especially D&D, but I've always been too shy to approach him. Too shy to approach anyone, only having one friend my whole time living in Hawkins, Robin Buckley. I'm not as good with people as my little brother, growing up in the Midwest with being what I am and how I am, I figured it's smarter to keep away. Robin always understood me, since we met in seventh grade and I moved here from Connecticut.

After everything last summer with Starcourt, and finding out about what my brother and his friends have been apart of, I shockingly acquired new friends, the very unexpected Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, and my art class acquaintances Jonathan Byers.

It's been a lot, it's been a fucking lot, and with it being my senior year the stress has been added. Mom keeps asking about my college options, telling me Indiana University has a pretty good art program. But I don't have the grades, I do enough to get by, school makes me miserable, I could care less about mundane things like classes and grades and teachers, and artificial societies. And sure I like art, but I love doing hair and makeup and nails too, something my mother definitely reaps the benefits of. And I don't exactly love Hawkins the Cursed Lands, but after everything and not sure about this place ever being safe again, I'd never leave my brother here without me. And as pathetic as it sounds, the thought of leaving the man who doesn't know I exist makes my stomach hurt.

I felt guilty for my thoughts, for my fantasies about him, for wishing the reason why I put my black velvet choker on this morning was to cover a bruise from his huge, ring wrapped fingers. Oh how I would cut off all twenty inches of my hair to just have his towering 5'11 frame over my 5'5 one, staring down into my black lined Hazel eyes, with his dark, teddy bear gaze.

The teacher must have sent paper down, because with the melodic swish of his chocolate butter ringlets, I was looking up at him and slamming my marble notebook shut faster than you can say Kissimmee. Dark, button eyes glanced at me before doing a double take. Now fixated on me feeling like a goldfish, with his plush, pillowy, bubblegum pink lips parted.

How the hell could anyone ostracize and hate such a gorgeous human being? Then the angel spoke and I felt like he was oozing the gospel.

Here we go again.

All because of one damn class I'm sitting in Johnson's English for the third fucking time.

I was the last one to plop my ass down, toward the back, the desk with the D&D scribbles and the classic "Ozzy rules" that violated government property. I got a snide remark from Johnson, and snickers and insults from Carver and his ball buddies.

This was exactly why I preferred to escape to my own world, where there are dragons and halflings, or when I close my eyes and finger my sweetheart. Just close my eyes and listen to The Number of the Beast, forgetting that reality is being the town's leper in a town where they decide Jason Carver is a good person because he knows his way around a ball.

Johnson was droning on about fucking writing prompts where he cares more about where a comma goes than if the story is good or not. 

And then, as I'm passing back the picture prompt for the first day of hell, I did a double take at a new face. A face prettier than even the likes of Chrissy Cunningham. Looking up shyly at me, drawing out a protective feeling I didn't know I possessed, are bedroom, dreamy lidded eyes painted a lavender gray,with thick broom-like sweeping lashes that flutter before bright Hazel eyes, that reminded me of summer turning into fall, green fading into browning leaves and golden maples. Kohl-rimmed, making them more pronounced and more awe-inspiring.

Her nose is cute and broad with a puggish finish that rests prettily between roundish cheeks painted a deep blush. My eyes traveled down to a pair of the ideal cock sucking lips, I'm so sorry but I don't really know what else to call them. They're so full and big, so cushiony and I'm a pretty imaginary guy, so what I'm thinking of doing to that mouth…fucking that gorgeous face, making those Hazel eyes water and her gothic makeup run down those pretty chipmunk cheeks, making a big mess of her blood red lipstick smudging it on my cock. 

I shifted in my seat feeling my dick stir, and this was not the time. Cascading around her face was voluminous white blonde curls, so wild and untamable like an elf-witch, very surreal and otherworldly and contrasts beautifully with her dark eyebrows.

And as if my she-elf couldn't have been more perfect, not only did she have herself collared by a black velvet choker, but a cut off Shout at the Devil Mötley Crüe  shirt encased her. My mouth watered and when she lifted a fishnet, arm fingerless glove adorned wrist to take the prompt from me, I inhaled the sweet smell of apricots and roses and sweet, expensive perfume. I couldn't get enough of it.

"Munson, are you drooling? Is that drool, freak?" Carver happily and loudly like a fucking foghorn called me out in front of everyone. Nothing new, usually I'm very unphased by embarrassment, I mean I'm a 20 year old senior. But, for once that jockstrap got to me, knowing this enchantress witnessed it witnessed him calling me out for something she caused. I snapped my head away fast and wiped my mouth with the sleeve of my jacket before inspecting the porosity. Damn, I was fuckin drooling.

Saved by the Johnson, the droning authority started a roll call. Imagine my surprise when Johnson called out Matthew Henderson and it happened to be my little elf-witch…or elf-warlock should I say.

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I was wondering if you knew of any canonical fics with a female aziraphale and male crowley. I love in particular the idea of aziraphale exploring gender after the apocanope.

Also thankyou so much for this archive, and all the work you do!

Hello! These aren’t all male Crowley, but they are all female presenting Aziraphale exploring gender...

An Angel, A Lady by inkandpencil (E)

Aziraphale stands before a full-length mirror - one of the ones that stands on it's own and pivots up or down - smoothing down the front of a Victorian-style waistcoat that shows off new curves. The waist of the coat dips in before flaring out over hips that are a bit curvier than previously seen.

The angel notices the demon in the doorway almost as soon as Crowley suddenly stops, jaw slightly agape. Tucking a lock of now-longer blonde curls behind an ear, Aziraphale turns to face him. The demon visibly shakes himself and closes his mouth before his lips curl into a smirk.

"So, angel, what's the occasion?"

Sappho, fragment 80 by KissMyAsthma (G)

„…ah yes, he’s my twin brother. He’s on vacation now and he left me in charge of the bookshop,” the lady with a sweet, soft voice said. „Oh, I didn’t know Mr Fell had a sister!” The young brunette was enthusiastic. „Nice to meet you, Mrs…?” „Fell, Ariel Fell.” - Before Crowley could say anything, she needed to take a good look at the angel, for it was the first time ever she saw Aziraphale in a female form.

The Mysteries of Ladies' Knickers by songlin (E)

Somewhere in the fall of 1963, Aziraphale was issued a new body. Later, he was never entirely sure if the mix-up following the assignment of its replacement was intentional or purely accidental. He had his suspicions. Crowley was not sure how to feel about it.

presentation by mutalune (T)

“I - You see, it’s - “Aziraphale hiccups, waving his wine glass lightly. “It’s one of those things that’s ‘Not Done’ - C’pital letters an’ all. God gave you this form and you best be grateful. Take care of it - preserve it!” He’s clearly repeating something that has been snapped at him in the past. If Crowley had to guess, he’d put money on Sandalphon. The prick.

“Bodies aren’t museums,” Crowley says, putting his glass down and rubbing his eyes tiredly. “‘Preserve it’, like you’re a mummy. Egyptians’re wild, weren’t they?”

“It’s bad taste to change something God gave you,” Aziraphale continues. “Implies that you think you could do better than Her, ‘pparently.”

“PShhT!” Spittle flies. “Psht. PSH. ‘S dumb.”

In the way he only does when spectacularly plastered, Aziraphale pops the “p” on his, “Yep.”

I Don't Mind by ShortInsomniac98 (T)

Fem!Aziraphale AU fic in which Adam accidentally places Aziraphale in a female body after kicking him out of Madame Tracy's body. Based loosely on a Tumblr post in which it was suggested that Aziraphale reappear in a form similar to that of Billie Piper.

Heavenly Host by rfsmiley (M)

Aziraphale has a problem and Crowley rises to the occasion. Or: the one where they have a baby.

Mind the tags on that last one!

- Mod D

[lesbian4fionapple]

HIIII!!! Just saw you write for david ellefson (you're a life saver) aaaand I was wonderind if you could write david ellefson x male reader (plsplspls), like 1992 david ellefson being super clingy to you ,,so soft and cuddly..

cw: fluff, mentions of alcohol and marijuana, gn!reader

ofc!!! i hope it’s okay i did 80s Junior tho :3 (i thought it matched more)

after a long day at the studio, David came back in the middle on the night. he was stumbling inside the house, bumping into walls and doors on his way in.

“babbbby?” he called out, knowing you were probably sleeping by now.

there was a pout forming on his lips, hoping you were just sleeping instead of going out with some friends or something.

“uh.. babe…?” he mumbled, looking all over the place.

he looked in your room, kitchen, bathroom, not seeing you anywhere and it really startled him.

“shit.. shit.. shit..” he sighed to himself, then as he turned he saw you curled up in a ball on the couch.

“David..” you groan. “what are you doing…?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes.

David’s face lit up once he found you, rubbing your arm softly.

“there you are… why aren’t you in bed?” he asked, trying his best to sound sober.

you shrug and roll around. “waiting for you to come home..” you sigh.

your boyfriend just stared at you, giving a pout. “really?” he said in disbelief. “you know you didn’t have to do that, hun.” he said as he kissed the side of your head.

you had your eyes closed, but a small smile was plastered on your face.

“mmh.. are you gonna sleep with me…?” you ask, looking up at the brunette.

he just chuckles once you invite him to sleep on the couch. he puts his things down and plops down on top of you, putting his head in the crease of your neck.

“jeez, you’re a big boy.” you giggle before David groans.

your hand reaches the back of his head, playing with his wavy hair, trying your best to be gentle with him.

sooner or later, David’s breathing got slower as his body began to relax, knowing he was finally asleep.

you kept kissing his forehead every now and then until you drifted off to sleep as well.

SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT IM NOT GOOD AT FLUFF D: