#and he went up to them and asked them ‘Do you believe homosexuality is a sin?’

[creature-wizard]

Scams, Hoaxes, Conspiracy Theories, & Cults Everyone Should Know About

Jilly Juice: Jillian Mai Thi Epperly claimed drinking sixteen cups of her super salty cabbage concoction each day could regrow missing limbs and cure everything from cancer to homosexuality. In reality, overdosing on so much salt caused followers a host of health issues that Epperley dismissed as "healing symptoms."

Nonhuman Body Hoax: Jaime Maussan attempted to pass off mummified human remains as nonhuman beings to the Mexican government. (This isn't even Maussan's first hoax, by the way. He has a history.)

Love Has Won: Amy Carlson, a woman who'd walked out on her own children, started a New Age cult in which she presented herself as "Mother God," the creator of the universe. She claimed to be in contact with dead celebrities and alien beings, and taught a conspiratorial worldview. As her health declined, she attempted to treat herself with colloidal silver and alcohol, and her behavior became increasingly abusive. When she finally died, her followers sincerely believed she would return to life and kept her body in a sleeping bag. (She did not return to life.)

Seed Faith Offerings: Reverend Gene Ewing came up with the perfect get-rich-quick scheme to prey on desperate Christian believers: tell believers that if they "sowed seed" by giving money to him, God would bless them with even more money in the future. He made millions of dollars from these donations, while most of his followers never saw the miraculous returns they were promised.

William Walker Atkinson: In the early 20th century, William Walker Atkinson wrote around one hundred books, many of which he wrote under various pseudonyms. Some of these pseudonyms included alleged Hindu mystics. That's right - this guy was practicing literary brownface to sell his mystical ideas.

The LDS Church: In the 19th century, a man named Joseph Smith claimed that an angel had told him where to dig up a set of golden plates that were supposedly written by ancient Hebrews who'd come to North America. Smith even had eleven close associates who vouched for the plates' existence. Yet the script they were allegedly written in bore no relation to actual ancient scripts of the Near East, and the the names the locations in the books he "translated" were very obviously derived from placenames he would have been familiar with. (For example, Oneida/Onidah.) Oh, and actual archaeology and DNA studies have discredited pretty much everything from this guy's weird racist narrative.

Fake Cancer, Fake Cure: Wellness entrepreneur Belle Gibson claimed that she'd cured her brain cancer with natural remedies. Gibson never actually had cancer in the first place.

Medbeds: Back in 2020, QAnons and QAnon-adjacent people started circulating claims that a new form of healing technology was about to become available to the public within the next several months or so. Depending on who you asked, Donald Trump, Elon Musk, and even the Galactic Federation of Light were involved. The time of their supposed unveiling came and went, and what do you know, there are still no functioning medbeds used in actual medicine.

COVID Vaccine Zombies: Conspiracy theorists have been claiming the government practices high-tech mind control for ages now. One recent iteration of this is a conspiracy theory claiming that people who'd received COVID vaccinations would have malicious DNA code activated by 5G on October 4, 2023, turn into zombies, and riot. The time came and went, and no zombie outbreak happened.

Ms.Scribe: In the early 2000s, a Harry Potter fan known as "msscribe" or "Ms.Scribe" faked her own harassment through a number of sockpuppets, with the apparent goal of becoming friends with some Harry Potter fandom bigwigs. She manipulated the fandom for a few years until the deception was finally uncovered.

[johnbrand]

Weaponizing Normality

With @wakeup01

“C’mon babygirl, you know what to do about this, right?”

John gulped, his ex-boyfriend cockily lying on their bed. His bed. They were exes now after all, considering John had caught the flamboyant twink cheating on him with the young hunky cashier from the liquor store. But it was more than that, because John had converted his ex-boyfriend after the incident in a fit of rage. One bullet and a mental breakdown later, he had vowed to never see Garret again. But here he was, or at least, what he had become.

“How are you…why are you…” John sputtered, trying his best not to check out his former lover. The twink’s slim figure had been eradicated along with the homosexuality. Now Garret embodied the classic toxic straight boy. Rippling muscles, tanned skin, perfect hair and face. Even a tattoo was now carved into where his arm met his shoulder; the most heterosexual of all ink locations.

“What, didn’t you miss me?” Garret purred, his voice deeper and more sensual than John remembered. “Left my clothes at some chick’s place before I got here, hope you don’t mind.”

John realized what Garret was referencing. Although shirtless, he was currently wearing a pair of John’s slacks, his massive pouch stretching the fabric. Garret had always been too petite for John’s clothes before, but now the opposite problem had occurred. John envisioned his pants screaming in agony with Garett’s muscular lower half stretching them to the limit.

“Not the only thing I stretched out today, if you know what I mean,” Garett winked, reading John’s thoughts. John could not believe he could still do that after all they had been through.

“Look,” John finally sputtered, a firm decision settling in his mind. “You need to go, now.”

Garret frowned, taking a beat. “Are you sure? I come bearing gifts.”

“‘Gifts’,” John repeated unconvinced.

“Well sure,” Garret affirmed. “To thank you for all you did, and to apologize.”

Although he did not show it, John was surprised by this comment. Had conversion not morphed Garett into a classic douchebag?

“You obviously had a reason for what you did,” Garret started. “I cheated on you, plain and simple. You were acting solely as a response to my actions.”

John could not believe how mature this conversation was.

“After I got converted, everything changed for me. First off, I realized how much pussy I’ve been missing out on. It’s great stuff, man.” John did not respond, so Garret continued. “Anyway, I wanted to double up the two and come here for one last hurrah, a ‘To new beginnings!’ sort of thing.”

John considered this, “What do you have in mind?”

A self-assured smirk fell over Garret’s masculinized face. He already knew John’s answer before he even asked the question. “A thick, sensual blowjob on this new alpha body.”

John had no words. His eyes shifted from Garret’s down to the enlarged pouch, and then back up to Garret’s, before going back to the pouch again. John continued this pattern, with each glance back at Garret’s man meat a little longer than the last. Before he realized it, the words had already left his mouth.

“Please…”

Garret tossed his hands behind his head and shifted his pelvis a bit, “Get to work then, fag.”

Overridden by a sudden wave of lust, John dove in. Like a rabid dog he ripped apart Garret's (his) own pants, tearing away at the tight briefs (which on John were supposed to be boxers) immediately after. But before John could lay his eyes on the superior cock the laid below, he felt the pressure of cold metal brace his skull.

The gun went off quickly, the bullet lodging itself directly into John’s head. Garret watched as his collapsed on top of him, John’s body lifeless on top of half of his. With a chuckle, he dove his hand into the back of John’s pants and shoved his two fingers right next to the crack. He felt it pulsating, vibrating as it carefully shut its well-maintained entrance. 

Garret then began to feel up the rest of John’s body, curious to see what else could be affected right away. He recognized the flab of his ex’s stomach begin to evaporate away, and took in the crackle-pops of John’s widening back. Garret could not help but investigate the armpits, relishing in the fact that they were growing hairier and sweatier by the second. Bringing his fingers up to his nose, he grinned childishly in disgusted glee at the sour smell that had latched on, growing funkier by the minute.

Garret could not believe weaponizing normality could be so wickedly fun. He glowed with mischievousness, his impish revenge tantalizing him. Garret knew that it would not be long until his vengeance would be complete. But until then, he had to get this dude off his dick.

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve's parents compete to matchmake him with someone 1/?

Jonas and Diane Harrington sat in silence as their son's confession hung in the air. They'd met homosexuals before. You didn't travel as much as they did and not meet different people. But it had never occurred to them that someone so close to them - that their own son might be...

"Can you guys say something? Please?", Steve begged.

"Oh honey...", his mom started. "...Was Tommy?"

"What?", Steve pulled back at that. "Tommy? And me? Me and Tommy? No. We were never like that. Ever."

"Well, good for you son. You can do better", his father said, leaning back in his chair a little.

"He was so smarmy. You deserve someone who'll actually take care of you", Diane said, putting her hand on top of Steve's.

He looked down at the point of contact. "What's happening here?"

"Well, you being, you know, in your way, doesn't change our conversation", Jonas said. "We still think you need to stop sleeping around and find someone to be a little more serious with."

Diane nodded. "It's not good when all the gossip at the hairdresser's is about who your son is messing around with. Oh! What about Matthew?"

Steve raised a brow. "Your hairdresser?"

"Not mine, but he did fix me up when we were in New York, you remember the gala? He's nice, worldly-"

"I'm sorry", Steve interrupted. "I just told you guys for the first time ever that I'm gay, and you immediately try to set me up with someone?"

"Your love life is getting out of hand", Jonas said. He leaned forward and tented his hands on the table. "There's bets down at the bar. On who you're gonna knock up first."

"But if you're gay, we don't need to worry about surprise babies, right hon?", Diane smiled.

"Actually, I have a question about that now", Jonas started before his wife sent him a glare. "But we can save that for later. Point is, you need to hold on to someone for longer than a week."

Steve shook his head. "I can't believe my parents are talking to me about dating. What makes you think I can even get a guy? Can't exactly put the moves on them like I normally would."

His parents looked to each other, proving that neither of them really had an answer. With a sigh, Steve asked to be excused and when they granted permission, he went up to his room.

"Our Steve...a...a queer", Diane whispered.

"You think it's because I made him play football when he was a kid?", Jonas asked.

Diane shrugged. "If anything it's because of all those musicals we watched together. Then she released a heavy breath. It couldn't have been easy for Steve to tell them. And it couldn't have been easy for him to go on all those dates with those girls.

And if the rumors were true, he'd done more than date them. Jonas reached out and grabbed his wife's hand. From the moment their son had been born, all they had wanted was for him to be happy and healthy. Sometimes the healthy part meant leaving him for extended periods of time. Clearly, he'd been left on his own for too long. Surely they would have caught onto this sooner if they'd been around more, been involved more.

"What are we going to do?", Diane asked.

"You and I knew what we were going to do when we started this conversation", Jonas said, standing up from the table and putting his hands on his hips as he paced about the kitchen.

"Jonas, we can't give him Noelle's number now."

"Not Noelle, we just switch gears. Find a...a Nolan instead", Jonas decided, nodding as if to convince himself.

"Jonas, even if we can find another gay guy in this town, how do we know Steve will like him?"

"I know my son, I've got a decent idea what he likes."

Diane shook her head. “You just don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I don’t know what I’m talking about?”, Jonas questioned. “What, I can’t see what makes a man attractive?”

“Not the way Steven would. I think I understand this a little better than you.”

Jonas’ hands went to his hips. “Oh you do? You think I can’t find our son a date? You don’t think I know a handsome man when I see one?”

“Name one then”, she challenged.

“….Robert Redford.”

She crossed her arms, unimpressed. "Easy shot. Now name five that are actually our son's age."

Jonas looked put out and rolled his eyes. There was...there had to be some rock star, who was Steve listening to nowadays? Did he have a poster of someone? Who was in the movies? Maybe he had mentioned a boy at school at some point?

"Well, the bar is very high Diane. Steven is obviously the best looking boy at his school."

Diane grinned and stood up. "Was. He graduated, remember?"

"How can I forget? The grays won't stop coming."

Steve's graduation had been what had sparked this evening. Not getting into college, their son had seemed directionless. And messing around with too many girls had been the cherry on top. They had agreed to a gap year for him if he could use the time to get his relationships in check.

If he was into men, that made it slightly more challenging, but they wanted to give Steve the freedom to find himself. It was more than either of them had ever had. And what good was all the money if they couldn't spoil him a little.

"So, maybe I don't know what he's into. Doesn't mean I can't find him a good guy", Jonas said.

Diane wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "You do know a good thing when you see one."

They went upstairs to check in on their son only to find him halfway out the window with a packed duffle bag.

"I'm sorry", he said, leg hanging out. "There's just no way you guys were this cool about this."

"For god's sakes Steve, get back in here", Jonas grumbled, grabbing his son before he cracked his head on the ground.

"Believe it or not, your parents are capable of higher brain functioning", Diane said, already setting to unpacking the bag and putting the clothes away. "Some of this stuff doesn't even fit you anymore", she noted as she looked through his closet.

"Hey, how's about we all take a trip to the mall tomorrow?", Jonas suggested. "Refresh our wardrobes for the summer!"

"Oh that sounds perfect!", Diane agreed. "It's been a while since we Harringtons turned heads as a group."

Steve sat on the edge of his bed, looking tense, yet hopeful. "You guys don't...you don't think I'm any different? You don't...", his voice got small, "hate me?"

"Oh Steven!", his mother wailed and sat next to him in a rush, holding onto him tightly as she cried.

Jonas cleared his throat. "Di, there's no need for tears. There's nothing sad happening."

"I'm not crying because of Steve", she said defensively. "I was thinking about Matthew. I really hope he and Otis worked it out. And that he knows he always has family who love him. And that even if the world beats him black and blue he can always come home, okay? Always, you can always come home."

"Yeah mom, I know", Steve said, eyes wet as he got her thinly veiled meaning.

Jonas sniffed and patted Steve's shoulder. "And if the world does decide to put its hands on you, remember your old man's got mob connections."

Steve gave a watery laugh at that but thanked him anyway when his mom lit up in recognition.

"Oh! What about Ricci?"

"Ricci? For Steve? Get outta here", Jonas waved her off.

"Who is Ricci?", Steve asked.

"He's a nice boy", Diane answered.

"He's a numbskull is what he is. I'll do business with the mob, but I'm not giving them my son", Jonas said as he walked towards the door.

"Who said anything about giving? His family's well off, he can take Steve nice places", Diane said as she followed him.

Jonas threw his hands up in derision. "Mobsters are like five year olds with their dames. Once they lick it, it's theirs."

"OKAY good night!", Steve closed his door to shut out the rest of their talk.

"We're going to the mall at ten, honey! Be ready for breakfast", his mother called out, then continued her conversation with his dad. Probably debating whether or not to set him up with a closeted senator's son.

Steve rubbed his face and let out a sigh. He'd confessed tonight to get any talk of girls out of the way for the summer.

Mission accomplished?

Part 2 coming soon

[artificial-transmutations]

Army fantasies

The view from the landing plane was absolutely stunning. The tropical island was swimming in the azure ocean like a precious jewel in bright sunlight. It didn't even look that big, but it was surrounded by the whitest beach Mark had ever seen.

"Dylan, this is amazing! I can't believe that this is where we will spend our honeymoon."

Dylan grinned happily. It hadn't been easy for him to book a honeymoon on this island, mostly because the local government didn't exactly endorse gay marriage. It was not recognized here, and, although homosexuality was not illegal, most people on the island frowned upon it.

After landing and collecting their luggage, they stepped out of the airport into the bright light.

"Welcome to our tropical dream home for the next weeks, Mister Taylor!", Dylan beamed.

"Why thank you, Mister Taylor! I'm very much looking forward to it!"

Once they arrived at the hotel, they were greeted warmly by the receptionist.

"Ah, Mr. Taylor and Mr. Taylor! Welcome to our resort! I trust everything went smoothly with your superiors then?"

Dylan nodded. "Yes ma'am. Our leave request was accepted without problems."

"Excellent! We have prepared your suite already. As discussed, you will be living in the same room, sorry for the inconvenience. But we have at least arranged for separate beds."

"Thank you, ma’am, but this wouldn't have been necessary. We're used to sleep in much more cramped quarters back at the barracks.", Dylan answered.

"Haha, yes, I can imagine." the receptionist smiled warmly and handed them the keys.

As the newlywed couple entered the elevator, Mark smiled at Dylan.

"What was that about? And what's with all the ma'am?"

Dylan laughed. "Well, they wouldn't let a gay couple rent their rooms, so I just told them we were soldiers on leave."

"Really? And they bought that? What's with the last name?"

Dylan shrugged his shoulders. "I told them it's a coincidence. To be honest, until the whole thing with the beds, I thought they understood, and it was just a 'don't talk about it' thing. But apparently, they really believe we're soldiers on leave."

Mark snorted. "That's ridiculous! You don't look anything like a soldier."

Dylan chuckled. "Yeah, well, I guess people really see what they want to see."

They got out of the elevator and walked through the hallway towards their new room.

"I hope we get a good view from our window." Mark said.

"Me too. This place looks great."

The room was wonderful: Spacious and clean, with a large bed in front of the windows. A balcony opened up onto the outside world, offering magnificent views over the ocean.

"This is perfect." Mark sighed happily.

"No... We are perfect", said Dylan with a smug grin. "What do you want to do first?"

"Well..." Mark hesitated for a moment, before he pulled Dylan close and kissed him passionately. He could feel how horny his husband was and knew that he would need to take care of that soon.

"I think we should start by getting undressed."

The evening was wonderful for both of them and neither of the two happy husbands left their room that day. They had pushed their single beds together and woke up in a tight and tender embrace the next morning.

Mark kissed his husband on the lips the next morning. For some reason, even though they had made love for half of the night already.

Dylan woke up smiling. "Good morning Mr. Taylor". Then, as he looked lower, his smile turned into a grin.

"Someone is eager this morning. What are you thinking about?"

"Well... Would you perhaps up for a little role play?" Mark asked, shily.

"Sure, what's on your mind my love?" Dylan gasped a little as Mark had grabbed his cock through the sheets.

"You know how you told everyone we're soldiers? I can't stop thinking about that. How hot would that be?"

Dylan grinned and nodded, quickly joining in.

"Yeah, I can see that. We're just two army boys, bunking together in the barracks."

Dylan softly took Mark's hand from his cock and guided it to Mark's own.

"Of course, we're straight... At least on paper..."

"No, you're right!" Mark was just so horny, that fantasy really worked incredibly well. "We're straight, really straight. Boobs and all that."

Mark massaged his cock through his pants. Why was he wearing pants? It didn't matter.

"Right. Straight as an arrow. But you know, there are no girls in the barracks, so when we get horny..." Dylan continued while also kneading his hardening cock through his camo pants.

"... Which happens a lot, we're real men after all!" Mark chimed in as his hair became a short buzz cut.

" I hear you, bro!" Dylan quickly got rid of his camo vest, revealing his muscular upper body below it. All the drills had left him a perfect specimen of man, and he knew it.

"There's nothing wrong with jerking off together, right?"

Mark had already gotten rid of his shirt as well and had fished out his own ample dick from his pants. He grunted as he started stroking it and continued:

"Yeah, we're bros after all. Sometimes I even let you suck me off when I need it a lot."

Dylan pumped away at his cock full force now. The room had changed in accordance to their fantasy. No longer were they in a luxurious hotel suite, but more and more, the cheap and practical furniture of a room in the barracks materialized around them.

"Of course, I only suck you off if I can pound your ass afterwards. A hole is a hole, after all, no homo!"

"No homo!" Mark agreed, as he continued to rub one out with his bunk mate. God, it had really been too long since he had some decent pussy. The smell of sex and the slapping noise of his fellow soldier close next to him was good, but he needed the real thing once in a while

"What do you say, strip club on our next leave?"

"You bet!" grunted Dylan, already close to release.

Mark grunted heavily as well, before he came all over his chest, with Dylan following right after.

Mark used a shirt of his to clean himself up before throwing it to his mate, who caught it and used it for the same purpose.

"You know", wondered Mark, "sometimes I think those fags have it all figured out. They can have all the sex they want and don't have to deal with chicks."

"Yeah..." answered Dylan slowly. Somewhere deep inside, he wanted Mark to be more than his bunk mate and occasional fuck body, and he was pretty sure Mark was feeling the same way. But they were in the army, and they were real men, not some civilian faggots, so, as always, Dylan swallowed everything else he would have wanted to say and stayed silent, like a good soldier should.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Summer 2020 - The Hard Deck

Chapter 8 Part 1 of You Are My Soulmate

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: Two months. Sometimes you can't believe you've already been dating Bradley Bradshaw, the most perfect man you've ever met and your soulmate, for that long. But with the pressures of being officers in the Navy and everything your jobs entail, you haven't taken your relationship to the next step. When a night at The Hard Deck has you seeing green, you decide enough is enough. Bradley is your soulmate and you're going to make sure he knows just how much you love him.

Disclaimers: Misogynistic speech. Mentioned Homosexual Relationships. Angst. Flagrant disregard for protocols or Authority. Angst. Anguish.

This content presented in this story is for audiences age 18 and over only. MINORS DNI. I will not be accepting tag-list requests from Blank or Ageless Blogs for this story.

Warnings: Female!Reader

Word Count: 4051

A/N: Hiya lovelies! I'm back with yet another chapter of YAMS! My muse sort of went into hibernation between March and now, but never fear, this fic is not on hiatus! I hope you all love this chapter as much as I do!

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

My Masterlist

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

Tinkerbell

It’s been only a little under a year since you came to North Island. So much has changed over that time. The biggest change? Finding Bradley Bradshaw. You can’t believe you once wished anyone else could be your soulmate. Now, you’re not sure you could wish for anyone else. It feels like your entire outlook on life has changed, because you’re not sure you could go back to the person who wasn’t quickly falling in love with their soulmate.

Bradley Bradshaw is different now, too. When he’s not on base, he’s sweet and kind, considerate in a way you’d agreed he wouldn’t be when you were on duty. A part of the reason why is because nobody on base (except your best friends) knows that Bradley Bradshaw is your soulmate. Neither of you is in a rush to put a label on what you are either. Jake and Javy have both asked you, repeatedly, whether you're together, but you can’t tell them not when you’re not sure what is going on between you and your soulmate. After your contentious first few months at North Island, you’re a little afraid to ask Bradley, as well. What if that question makes everything devolve between the two of you? What if you go back to the fighting? You’re not sure you can go back to how it used to be between the two of you, with tension rising in the air between you. You think Bradley feels the same as you do. You hope he does. While you can still see the disbelief on his face sometimes when you kiss him, like he can’t believe he’s yours, you’re still not sure.

The rumor mill around North Island hasn’t helped anything. It’s obvious the newest Top Gun class has heard the rumors of the last few months. It should be a blessing they haven’t focused on the events leading up to Hawk’s inquiry and its aftermath. Instead, they’ve chosen to focus on what is going on (or may be going on) between you and Bradley. No doubt they’ve heard from Calypso, who was as gossipy as could be, before coming to North Island. You’ve witnessed it yourself, how the LTJG gossip network works. How else would news of the great Maverick’s latest brush with the Admiralty become the next talked about thing when you’re on board a ship for months at a time? Now every interaction you have with the Dagger Squadron is examined with a fine-toothed comb when superior officers aren’t present. You’ve heard some truly ridiculous things at this point, just by walking past the lounge.

“Have you seen how Tinkerbell is with Phoenix and Bob? I’m pretty sure she’s fucking both of them in addition to Bradshaw. The question is if they know or if she’s cheating on each of them with the others?”

As if that wasn’t ridiculous enough, it seems like you’re rumored to be romantically linked to almost every Dagger you speak to.

“Okay, but have you seen how she acts with Coyote and Hangman? If she gets any closer to them when they’re off duty, she’d be on top of them.”

“I bet you 50, she is!”

“I’d take that bet, but Hangy’s too buttoned up for that!”

If only it were just the Dagger Squad you’ve been rumored to be in a relationship with.

“She’s totally got an April-September thing going on with Admiral Mitchell! You’ve seen him napping on the sofa in front of her desk! Why else would an Admiral be in the AMDO hangar?”

Your favorite rumors of all, though, are the ones about Bradley and you. 

“Bradshaw has to be who she is dating! He smiles so much when she’s around him! There’s this tension between the two of them all the time! If they’re not head over heels for each other, then I think I need a vacation (or my radar is broken).”

“That’s a shame, Jiffy! Are you a WSO or aren’t you?”

“Fuck you, Toast! Anyways, like I was saying, they’ll be fucking before we graduate from Top Gun!”

They’re your favorite rumors because they’re the ones most likely to come true, not that any of the class will come to know, especially not Toast and Jiffy, from whom you heard that last parlay. 

It’s the turmoil of being known as Bradley Bradshaw’s soulmate which has had you in a tailspin since the aftermath of that all too successful first date. Can you be known as his? Yes. Do you want to be known as his? Yes and no. That’s about where your feelings and thoughts get complicated. You’d love to scream “Bradley Bradshaw is my soulmate” from the rooftops. But you’re also tired of the double standard. You get enough of it as is, being a successful female, AMDO Lieutenant Commander in the US Navy. The words Bradley had flung at you that first night on North Island (the ones he has apologized for a hundred times)? You’ve heard them more times than you can count. You’re sure you’ll hear them again. But you’re also sure that if the news of you and Bradley being soulmates gets out, every achievement of your career will be in question.

Despite all of the leading research in the world, nobody fully understands how far and deep soulmate bonds go. After all, it’s difficult to, when there are as many types of bonds as there are and even more types of soul markers. You and your soul shared dreams, centered around different objects integral to your soul's identity. Your parents only heard the music the other was listening to until they met. Jake and Javy hold each other’s names on their skin, written out in each other's handwriting. It seems like each type of bond holds a different type of connection, too. In the two months since you and Bradley crashed together, opening the bond, you’ve begun to feel his emotions, get a sense of what he's thinking. Nobody knows how the bond will evolve, but you’re sure it could evolve into a full telepathic bond given time. If anyone were to know, they’d assume your talent with fighter jets came from your soul. They’d find it hard to believe you knew anything of your own. The thoughts have you questioning yourself just a little, too. Before you met him, who knows how much of the bond was open? How much of your success was due to him and how much of it was due to your own hard work?

Thankfully, you have Mav and Ice to confide in and counsel you. Their advice and reassurances have gone a long way in helping you sort out exactly how and when you want your bond publicized. As it turns out, you weren’t the only person to be shocked when they found out Ice and Mav are each other’s soulmates. It’s probably the US Navy’s best kept secret, to be clear. Very few people know, mostly family and commanding officers. You’ve even had the chance to view their public files. There is only a singular line mentioning their bond in each file, stating the words Soulbound, Married followed by the other’s initials.

The way Mav tells it, keeping each other hidden, keeping their bond quiet, has been the biggest help of their careers. Ice would have never been able to protect Mav over the years if their bond had been widely publicized. Of course, like most things in life, it wasn't easy. But it's the price they've each paid time and again to be with each other in spite of their dual need to succeed in their chosen fields.

Bradley and you've talked about it, too. It wasn’t a unilateral decision on either of your parts. You both have goals in your careers you are trying to achieve. So you're trying to follow the same precedent and example. But despite Mav’s warnings, you weren’t expecting keeping your distance from Bradley Bradshaw to be quite so difficult. At work, it's not as big a deal, staying away from each other. It feels like you couldn’t behave in any other way, honestly. Every motion is choreographed, governed by the muscle memory of bodies conditioned by the US Navy into holding themselves a certain way, responding in a certain way.

Unfortunately, the two of you act the same way when you're alone. When you're at home or at Mav and Ice's house, you melt into him, kiss him, hold him like you've been aching to for your whole life. But when you’re out and about in San Diego, he keeps a constant distance between you. He doesn’t slip his arm around your shoulder or your waist, kiss your cheek or shoulder or any of the hundreds of little ways couples you see on the street show their love for each other. You know it’s part and parcel of your pact. But it still makes you feel like a dirty little secret when you know you’re anything but. At least Bradley still kisses you like he believes you are going to disappear if he blinks. Each embrace, each brush of his lips against your skin sparks an inferno. But that is it. As soon as his lips meet your skin, they're gone again.

For weeks you've been feeling the itch under your skin, begging you to get closer to your soul. You're craving intimacy, a need to imprint yourself on his skin so deep he'll never forget who he belongs to. You might not be able to show it publicly, but privately, you’re ready to stake your claim. You know how gorgeous your soul is, inside and out. After all, you have eyes. You would never have noticed him the first night at the Hard Deck all those months ago if it weren’t for his charisma and looks. If only there was a way you could show him, in front of anyone who matters.

It doesn’t help that you can’t even kiss him when you’re off duty most of the time, because you inevitably find yourselves at The Hard Deck with the rest of the Dagger Squadron. There are too many eyes on you, on the Dagger Squadron when you’re there. They’re practically famous, and with Naval personnel other than the Daggers around, you can’t risk anything. When the Daggers are involved, things always seem to get turned on their heads. They are an affectionate squadron, closer to family than colleagues, preferring to hug each other with impunity. After all, you’ve seen the puppy-pile the lot of them turn into after a particularly rough training session at the behest of Mav. So it’s no wonder the rumors fly as fast and furiously about them as they do.

Anti-fraternization regulations are one thing. The badge bunnies and the odd bachelorette parties who wander into the Hard Deck for fun with some men and women in uniform are something else entirely. With enough alcohol, they flirt with anyone in sight. It’s no wonder they flirt as much as they do with your soulmate. They fall over themselves when he sits at the piano at the end of the bar, a flirty smile on his lips as he tickles the ivory keys and sings with his gorgeous voice. He’s your soulmate. You know it in your soul, just as you know all the reasons why Bradley would never pick one of them. But logic and reasoning don’t keep you from seeing red whenever other women flirt with your man.

It’s late, half-past 11 at the very least, with the time ticking closer to midnight with every elapsed second. All the regulars have mostly cleared out tonight, leaving only the Daggers, you, and a few scantily-clad girls in the bar. The Daggers are often the first to enter the bar when it opens and the last to leave. Right now, they’re all arrayed at the pool tables, talking shit and taking shots with the cues in turn. Penny’s behind the bar, like always, though even she seems less than pleased by the high-pitched giggling from the bachelorette party tottering about on too high heels. You hope she’s at least getting good tips from their repeated squeals for shots.

Bradley’s the only Dagger not at the pool tables. Even Bob with his ever-present can of soda and cup of peanuts is over there. If you focus, you think you can hear him roasting Jake in that quiet understated way of his. But most of your focus is on the badge bunny draped across Bradley’s broad chest. She stinks of cheap tequila, you could probably smell her from a mile away, and only the sash draped around her proclaiming her to be the maid-of-honor explains why she’s in this bar. What’s pissing you off just a little more than how this slut is draped over your soulmate is how she barely seems to care how you’re right there. You’ve been standing next to Bradley all night long, closer than is proper for colleagues. His hand’s been looped through one of the belt-loops on your jeans all night too, hidden behind the high table, palm scorching as it rests just over the swell of your ass. What part of your posture screams “This man is single”? If that wasn’t enough, he’d been leaning into your face as you chatted in intimate whispers barely audible over the music. 

She’d barged right into the middle of your conversation, tossing her hair and batting her eyelashes. Even now, she’s flirting and giggling, the high-pitched noises making you wince, putting you so thoroughly on edge that you feel like you’re seconds from snapping. You sigh when she finally stumbles away, her heels clacking clumsily over the sticky floor. You could do without the come-hither eyes she sends Bradley’s way, but at least Bradley doesn’t seem to notice. His attention is on you, like it has been all night.

“Fuck,” His voice is rough, the sound wrapping around you in a way that makes your panties just a little wet. “I’m sorry about that, sweetheart.”

He tugs you in a little closer by your belt loops, the motion soothing the ragged edges of your nerves as the Sandalwood of his cologne drowns you.

“She just wouldn’t go away!”

He drags his hand, the one with his US Naval Academy ring with its garnet gem through his curls as he downs the last few sips of his beer. You track a droplet as it drips down his cut jaw, and desperately want to kiss your soul once again. Of course, that feeling is drowned by more rage as you catch the cow-eyes little miss Maid-of-Honor is making in her sparkly hot pink dress on the other side of the bar. 

It makes you a little reckless as you spit words out, trying to provoke an argument, something to make your soul realize little things like a woman flirting with him, touching him, bothers you.

“Hmm… I wonder why, Roo?” You roll your eyes and stamp your foot a little. “Maybe it’s ‘cause you looked happy to have her wrapped around you?”

He recoils at your words and vitriolic tone, a puppy-dog pout dragging the corners of his mouth down for just a few seconds before resettling his lips into his most charming grin. It’s too charming for words, eroding at the edges of your anger just enough to make her flirting seem less troubling than it is.

“Is everything okay, Tink?” His hand slides up, rubbing at your hip in slow circles, but you’re not willing to give in. “C’mon baby, tell me what I did wrong. I can’t fix it if I don’t know.”

You gulp the last bit of your margarita in response before shoving the glass into his chest.

“It’s nothing, Roo. I’m fine. Just a little thirsty, that’s all.”

Your excuse is slim at best. You know it. So does he by the quirk in his brow as he looks at you. 

“We’ll talk about this when you’re ready.”

Maybe it’s the bond working to let him know when you’re not ready to talk. But when he grabs his empty beer bottle and your martini glass and turns around to walk back to the bar, your irrational anger rears its ugly little head again. Because there she is in all of her glory, whispering with one of her friends, waving him over with red-taloned fingers while seductively staring at your soul. She’s obviously noticed the swagger in his hips just as much as you have. If only she’d noticed your glower in her direction, a gaze which is quickly turning into a piercing glare. You’re not trying to pick a fight, tonight. It's not Bradley's fault that women find him irresistible. You just want your soul to know she bothers you. And you want her to know he’s not hers to seduce into her bed just because he’s hot.

So your tone is artificially light as you call out, just loud enough over the din that Bradley hears you.

“You don’t even know you’re doing it, huh?”

“Doing what?” He sounds confused, adorably so.

“I mean, it’s obvious you haven’t spent any time on a farm.”

You grin from ear-to-ear, fighting the urge to fist-bump the air, when he turns around, out of the line of sight of little miss Maid-of-Honor at the other end of the bar. He thuds the empties down and crosses his arms across his chest, the muscles bulging mouth-wateringly in front of you. It’s obvious he knows what you’re up to based on the amused quirk to his lips, but he’s playing along regardless.

“And you have?”

There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he looks down at you. Your grin could be called positively wicked in response.

“Sure I have! Seresin Ranch is an awful lot of fun at Christmas-time!” You tug one of the chairs over and sit down in it, keeping the high table between you and your soulmate. “You know what else they have at Seresin Ranch?”

“Lemme take a quick guess here…” 

His eyebrows raise as he pretends to think. 

“Chickens?”

“Yup!”

You relish in the shape of your lips as you pop the ‘p’ in your too cheeky response to him.

“And there is one ole Rooster in the flock, too. And you know how he walks? Especially when he’s got a hen he’s wooing?”

“Just like I do?” Your lips quirk at the disappointment on his face, destroying the mock thoughtful pout you'd sent your soul's way moments before. When a smile sneaks onto his lips unwillingly, you giggle. He looks fondly exasperated at the sight of your glee, but takes a step closer to you.

“God, Tinky! If I hadn’t been right here all night, I would’ve been asking you just how much you’ve had to drink tonight!”

You can’t find it in you to respond, the thoughts flitting past at lightning speed. It feels like you’re magnetized to his presence. One of his big hands wraps around your hip as he comes to stand between your open legs. He’s a lot, all of a sudden, standing there so close. It’s a little overwhelming. You can’t keep your eyes off of his face, eyes straying repeatedly over the little laugh lines stamped at the corner of his eyes and the way his lips are spit-slicked and a little chapped. You’re so close to him, you’d be kissing him if you pressed upwards just a little more. But somehow, you can’t bring yourself to.

“You’re jealous.”

Everything in you screams you should deny the statement. But you can’t lie. The bond would tell him what your face hasn’t already.

“C-can you blame me?”

The words leave you in a puff of breath, barely audible over the clinking glasses and the whir of the jukebox in the corner.

“Why would you be jealous? I promise there’s no reason for you to be jealous. I promise, sweetheart.” There’s something almost knowing in his face.

“I - I should believe you, Bradley, but I don’t. There's no reason why I shouldn't be jealous of the girls who flirt with you who look like that.” You want to believe him, but the words aren't reassuring in the slightest. “E - especially when I know I’ve never once looked like that on my best days, forget my worst.”

He cups your cheek in his big hand, his skin hot against yours.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” He sighs, then, pressing his forehead against yours. “And you don’t even know it, do you? That first night? When you were chatting with Penny at the bar wearing that sundress? I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you. I was tracking you all night. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you ever since. You have a way of taking over the room with your presence. You’re so sure of who you are and what you’re capable of. You’ve never shied about going after what you want. I admire that about you. I adore that about you.”

“So trust me, beautiful, when I say you have nothing to worry about. You never have and you never will. I know it in my very soul.”

This? This is exactly why it took less than two months for you to fall head-over-heels in love with your soulmate. He always seems to know what to say to make you see things in a different way. All of a sudden, it feels like there isn’t anyone else in the room. The noise of the jukebox, of the Daggers squabbling in the background fades away. All you want in that moment is your soul. But just before you fling yourself into his arms, the shattering of glass jolts you out of your feelings. You're too close to Bradley Bradshaw - too close for a pair of colleagues sharing a late night drink after a long day. Were you both anywhere else, you would have kissed him already, given your preoccupation with the taste of him, the scent of him, the feel of him.

Instead, you murmur, “I'm heading out, Roo. I've got this terrible headache and I should probably turn in early for the night.”

You know he's looking at you with those big, deep brown eyes, trying to get you to meet his gaze, convince you to stay for another drink, another chat, another laugh. But you can’t. You're at the end of your rope. If you were to fall now, loosen your grip on the chains keeping you in check, it would result in the destruction of your efforts. The Daggers barely acknowledge your goodbyes, too absorbed by the game of pool happening before their eyes. Penny wraps you in a motherly embrace as you pay your tab, enquiring fussily if you need her to call a cab. With every move you make, you feel eyes on you. You know exactly who it is, your soul, watching eagle-eyed as you collect your bag and walk out to your car. You know it’s that old Bradshaw chivalry rearing its head, something Mav told you Goose had exhibited with Carole his whole life.

So, of course, you're not alone in the sea-perfumed night air for long. Footsteps disturbing gravel follow you as soon as you step out of the pool of light cast by The Hard Deck’s lamps, hints of sandalwood scent curling around you on the breeze.

“C'mon, sweetheart. Don't I even get a kiss goodnight?” He's wheedling, enticing. Damn him, because you ache for his skin in a way you're not sure you could ever voice. He’s weakening your resolve with every step in your direction.

“There isn't even anybody watching!”

“Who said I was saying goodnight, Roo?” 

The shell-shocked look on his face makes you giggle as you start your car and drive away from The Hard Deck. The roads are deserted, but not for long. Only seconds later, you hear the growl of an engine and smile at the sight of a blue truck pulling up behind you. Your phone chirps with a text as you idle at a stoplight.

This time, I'm not letting you go.

This time, you muse as the light changes, you don’t intend to let him walk out the door so easily.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, OR AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN ON TUMBLR, WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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[maturemenoftvandfilms]

The Rev. Jerry Falwell

Featuring Rev. Jerry Falwell

Back in 1989, I was a student at Liberty University and in the office of the University president, Rev. Jerry Falwell for violating the school's personal ethics code. I got caught blowing a guy and you know who Rev. Falwell was, you know I was in trouble. Falwell was a so called champion of righteousness, waging a crusade against homosexuality so my time at Liberty was over.

With that being said, I couldn't help but admirer him. Your typical older white male in his late 50s or early 60s. He had greying hair. Not too bad, he had a cute quality to him. And if I was going out, I might as well go big and have some fun with him. I always had a thing for older guys.

I apologized, slowly licked my lips asked, "Is there something I can do to make up for the infraction?"

His face turned red and just shook his head as if there was nothing I could do. I bet he never had a man make a pass at him. His eyes quickly did a once over on me, and bingo. I do believe the good doctor here might have a thing for little ol' me.

We sat there for an awkward minute as he had his internal struggle whether to accept my proposal for sex or not. So I chose to take things to the next level as I got up and walked over to a wall with his accolades. He turned slightly in his chair, not knowing what to do next and I saw his bulge. I had him right where I wanted him I thought as I walked over to a bookcase by his desk and picked up a picture of him and who I assumed was his wife. She seemed like a hard nosed bitch.

"Is this your wife Rev. Falwell," I asked.

"Yes, we've been married for 30 years." He answered. Ah, so he's been debating if he should cheat on his wife with a young piece of ass like me.

"She seems a bit intense, no?" I asked. He chuckled and almost immediately tried to hide it. I struck a nerve. I bet she was a prude with being only for procreating. And definitely no blow-jobs.

"Does she take good care of you, Rev. Falwell?" I gently asked, placing the picture back.

He froze so I took a small step towards him, but his lower lip seem to quiver a bit. As if words were trying to be formed, but my now sexual presence was suffocating him. I took another step forward and fixed his collar of his shirt. I looked into his eyes and whispered, "Rev. Falwell, does she suck your cock every night and morning? Does she make you feel good?"

I slowly shook his head no. I smiled meekly before kneeling in front of him. I licked my lips and said, "Rev. Falwell, I need another chance. Can't you find it in your heart to give me just one more chance."

With his lips still quivering, he nodded yes as I slid my hands up and down his legs. I put on my most sincere face and thanked him while my hands slid up his body and down his legs again. On the next pass I unbuckled his belt so I could undo his pants. I slid them down and was rewarded with a pretty decent cock. It was about 7 inches, thick, veiny and most importantly, hard. I licked from the bottom of his shaft to the tip as he shuddered in pleasure. I took in his musky smell and it felt so erotic. Then I slipped my lips over his manhood and went to work.

Rev. Falwell gripped the arms of his leather chair as I I could feel the veins on his cock as my lips glided up and down. His salty precum hit my tongue and I looked up at him. His glazed over eyes told me everything I needed to know. I had him right where I wanted him.

I continued my oral assault on him as I sucked him off for everything he was worth. He built enough courage to lay a hand on my shoulder and then on my head as my hands slipped under his ass so I could take him deeper. I let his cock hit the back of my throat a couple times to make that sound porn stars make in the videos. I was feeling real slutty as I released his cock from my mouth with a gasp and I jerked him off so I could catch my breathe.

"You're wife doesn't suck your cock like this does she." I asked, looking directly at him. He shook his head no as I slapped his cock against my lips and then my tongue.

Wanting to milk this old bastard and leave him wanting more, I was back to sucking and stroking his thick cock. My head bobbed as his moans got louder and louder. His hands gripped my shoulders as if he wanted me to stop but I wanted it. I wanted his cum. I wanted his satisfaction. He thrusted his hip as he could no longer hold it in anymore. With a last suck, his cock popped out of my mouth for the last time and he shot all over my face as I furiously jerked him off.

His cum sprayed all over my face and I could feel it slowly seep down it. Luckily it looked like he got everything by my eyes. I slowly opened them as I watched him panting as if he'd just ran a marathon. I licked my cum covered lips and tasted him before quickly cleaning all the cum off my face, but didn’t swallow it. Instead I moved quickly up and on top of Jerry until my face was over his. Rev. Falwell opened his mouth to say something and I started French kissing him with my mouth full of the old man’s cum.

Looking into his clear blue eyes, I saw a look of shock. Then he was surprisingly kissing me back. His tongue was every where inside my mouth, angry and as brutal as he could make it. I loved. As I wrapped my tongue around his and sucked, I could feel him swallowing his own cum as he sucked it out of my mouth.

Suddenly I felt his hand grasp my balls. I sucked in air as he tighten his grip on my tender testicles. Then as I started jerking and thrashing from the pain of his iron grip on my balls as we kissed like I had never before kissed someone. I thought he was going to rip my balls off as he squeezed and pulled on them. But a part of me love it.

When we finally broke our embrace, Jerry let go of my balls. And the moment he did that, I undid my pants and jerked them down along with my boxer shorts. My fat dick sprung up and stood straight out from my body. It was so hard it was throbbing. The old man's eyes got big as he looked at my thick dick against his mouth. I didn’t think Rev. Falwell would open his mouth, but then I guess he was so horned up he didn’t know what he was doing. The next thing I knew Rev. Falwell was sucking my dick.

I felt wonderful. But even better to look down at Rev. Jerry Falwell, the fundamentalist preacher who founded the Moral Majority while he had my dick in his mouth. I got so excited that I shot off. He gagged and tried to spit my dick out but I forced my dick in him, and made him swallow the entire load before pulling it out.

Needless to say, I wasn't kicked out of school that day.

[farfaras]

I think I got an ex but I forgot him.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3 (this is it.) AO3 link.

–

Their plan changed. Them planing to come out changed things, mostly the storyline they were going for. Jonathan realizing he was lonely and didn’t actually love Steve as a way to end the relationship seemed too gut wrenching for a baby gay to witness. So that was out.

The timing of them getting together would stay the same. But instead of those elaborate phases they planned, they would just take it one day at a time. Like normal couples would. When they decide to break up, they would just say they realized they work better as friends. Simple, easy.

Today was probably the hardest part of the plan. Coming out to everyone. Dustin actually convinced them, made them believe that the whole crew would be supportive. If anything went sideways Steve was definitely putting this on him.

They had get togethers almost weekly now. It was a comfort thing. Most of the time the brats used these gatherings to play their nerd game. The rest of them just hanging out. Steve only wished Mike took better care of his basement.

The party and Eddie were playing their game on the table. Steve made sure he sat down close to Jonathan, Robin on his other side. Eleven and Max were reading some comics in the corner, on a beanbag. They looked comfortable.

Steve was anxious. He didn’t know how Jonathan could take this level of anticipation and anxiousness. He was fidgeting almost violently, so Jonathan took his hand in his. Robin, who was in the middle of a rant, faltered for a second before going back to talking. Both Steve and Jon’s attention on her. Even though she was still talking, she looked Steve in the eyes and raised a single brow. He knew what she was asking. He hopefully telepathically sent the right message.

When the party announced that they finished their session for today, Mike rushed to get some drinks. Jonathan dropped his hand and resumed his previous position. Steve caught Will and Eddie curiously eyeing the movement, while Dustin was downright staring and not so subtlely hiding his grin.

Everyone was chatting amongst themselves, when Mike returned Jonathan cleared his throat. “Uh, guys?” His voice was slightly louder than it normally was. Also firm. “We have some news.”

Mike raised an eyebrow. “Who’s we?”

Steve spoke up. “Me and Jonathan.”

“Unexpected but welcomed duo, huh.” Robin tried to lighten the mood. It was like every time someone heard the word news they assumed the worst. Steve gave her a grateful glance.

“It’s nothing bad, don’t worry.” Steve reassured them. They seemed to relax at that, nodding and giving them their full attention. Jesus, their faces were earnest and curious. Steve didn’t know if he was gonna survive this. He turned to Jonathan. “Should you tell them or do you want me to do it?”

Jon gave him a small and teasing smile. “I’ll tell them. You got the worst of it already.”

“Hey! What the fuck? I thought we were cool, Jonathan.” Dustin protested when he heard Jon. And that reaction just proved his point.

Jon just stared blankly at him. “Someone just spit it out already.” Mike said, rolling his eyes like the impatient little shit he was.

“You just don’t know how to wait, huh.” Lucas shot back.

“Shut up.”

“Grow up, Mike.”

“Oh, please…”

Eddie’s voice cut through the argument dryly. “Kids! Please, just stay quiet so they can say what they need to.”

Jonathan muttered a quiet thanks before taking a deep breath, probably mentally preparing himself. “I’m just gonna say it.” He looked around, then directly at Steve, before addressing the whole group again. “Steve and I are dating.”

It was like Steve was able to watch all their reactions in slow motion. He mostly just felt Robin’s, her gasp and the way her neck almost fell off from how fast she turned to them. Eleven just nodded and went back to reading, he supposed they haven’t taught her all about what the world thinks about homosexuality? Max’s was kinda scary, she just smirked as if she was going through all the new material she had to tease Steve in her mind. Mike and Lucas both raised their eyebrows, they were comically up. Will’s eyes sparkled and widened at the revelation, he was surprised too. And Eddie was almost unreadable. His mouth slightly opened and he looked shocked, frozen.

Mike broke the silence. “There’s no way.”

“It’s true!” Dustin looked ready to defend them if anyone had something even remotely weird to say.

“You knew?!” Lucas almost shrieked.

“I did.” Dustin looked so proud.

Steve didn’t want to look at Robin right now, he had absolutely no idea how she might react. Or if she was gonna be mad about not knowing first. He felt a hand in his that wasn’t Jon, so he looked up to find Robin softly looking at him. She squeezed his hand. “Thanks for telling us, both of you.” She directed this to Jonathan, too.

“It’s kinda weird that you both dated the same girl,” Max started. “But I guess you’re cute, or whatever.”

“Cute or whatever.” El repeated. Still not paying much attention to them.

Steve laughed. “Thanks?” “I guess.” Added Jon.

The only ones who haven’t said anything were Will and Eddie. The rest of the room put their eyes on them.

“Oh. Um. Even if it’s kinda unexpected, that’s great.” Will nervously said. He looked around. “Right?” A chorus of yeses and rights filled the room. Steve could breathe easier.

“Yeah, great.” Eddie muttered. “We’re all happy for you guys.” His smile was small, almost subdued.

“Okay, now that that’s over,” Jonathan tried to end this conversation, the kids wouldn’t have that though.

“Wait! I have questions!” Lucas of all people exclaimed. “When was this?”

“Uh– well. We got together a few weeks ago. If that’s what you were asking.” Steve answered.

“When?”

“Like 2 weeks after.” Jon replied. They didn’t need to say after what, it was implied.

They answered all their questions with their planned answers.

Who made the first move? Actually Jonathan because Steve wanted to go at his pace.

How did they get together? Jonathan asked him after they came out to each other.

Were they in love? (This was El) At that, they got caught off guard, they didn’t expect someone to ask that. “We haven’t been together for long, El.” She didn’t seem to understand but left it alone after Max said she’d explain it to her later.

Everyone, like Dustin said, was supportive. Which they were grateful for. And Steve was also super happy for Will and Robin to see that their friends would support them too when they decided to come out.

Steve just didn’t know why Eddie was so quiet all of the sudden. He wasn’t like that, which made Steve worry he was actually not all that okay with this. He didn’t want that to be the case, he didn’t think that was the case. But people could surprise you sometimes.

Steve and Jonathan were holding hands while they answered questions. Whenever Steve chanced a glance at Eddie, he looked like he was staring at their hands but quickly redirected his gaze to something else. Steve felt uneasy.

All too soon it was time to go. Everyone was climbing the stairs, Jon was pulling his hand to get out of the basement. Eddie was still packing some of his stuff. Steve stopped walking. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up with you outside.” He told Jon and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He just nodded and left the basement. Now it was just Steve and Eddie.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“What’s up with you?” Steve hadn’t known Eddie for long. But during these last months they had developed a friendship, so Steve thought he knew Eddie an appropriate amount to know something was off.

Eddie’s eyes were slightly more open than usual. “Nothing’s up. Why do you think that?”

“Well, you were awfully quiet at the end there. Not really like you, is it?” Steve went up to Eddie so now they were standing in front of the other.

“Yeah, I’m just kinda tired you know.” He was looking down at his feet.

“You’re not… uncomfortable, are you?” Steve was scared that he might regret asking that. But the way Eddie wasn’t even looking at him right now, made it hard.

Eddie’s eyes widened and worry splayed over his face. “No!” He loudly said. “Not at all, please don’t think that.” He sighed. “I really am just tired, Steve. I promise.”

Steve nodded, maybe he was being paranoid. “Okay, I just. Well, I was worried for a sec.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie moved his hand, like he was gonna rest it on Steve’s shoulder but then he aborted. Okay, that didn’t really help his case, but Steve wanted to believe him. “I know how I could’ve come across. But I’m happy for you, Steve. Um, both of you. You deserve it.” He smiled and didn’t give Steve time to respond before he bolted.

When Steve stepped outside, Eddie’s van was already gone. Will, Jon and Robin were waiting for him by his car.

“Just ‘cause you’re the boyfriend now doesn’t mean I’ll give you shotgun privileges, Byers. I hope you know that.” Robin deadpanned.

Jon put his arms up, innocently enough. “I didn’t expect you to.”

“Good.” Robin narrowed her eyes at him. “We’ll have to schedule our shovel talk, by the way.”

Will cackled while they all climbed into the car.

The ride was short, or more like it felt short. Steve didn’t even feel like time was passing with his friends making him laugh and happy.

He dropped off Jon and Will first. Jonathan gave him a peck on his cheek as a goodbye before he and Will entered their home.

Robin was awfully quiet when it was just the two of them left. She was unbuckling her seatbelt to get out when she decided to say something. “I could’ve sworn it was gonna take you longer to figure out your sexuality.” She looked at him, fondly. Steve was expecting a lot of things, but not that. “Even if I wasn’t given an exclusive, I’m happy for you, Dingus. Hope he treats you well.” She got out of the car with a salute, the dork.

What did Robin mean by all that?

-

This was like a whole other level of fucked up. The universe really liked to just tell Eddie “fuck you!” whenever it wanted. And this moment felt like it was up there, in the top 5.

It was one thing to have a crush on a straight friend, who was so unattainable that he didn’t even need to worry about ever bringing it up, outside of his mind. Steve was a great friend. Which just made him crush harder. It was so easy to almost, not completely, ignore it. Eddie had it all mapped out, he was gonna pine from afar until Steve got a girlfriend. Then he’d make himself get over him. He knew it wasn’t gonna be easy, but he had to. For his sanity.

Leave it to Jonathan freaking Byers, to throw that down the drain.

Eddie was well aware how bad his reaction was to the whole thing. He didn’t want Steve thinking the worst of him. He tried his best at reassuring him that he was happy for them! Even if he wasn’t at all. But at the end of the day, Eddie figured he’s still a coward. Because he ran so fast at the first opportunity he had to get out of there.

He supposed that now that Steve was taken, he still would have to get over him.

But it was so much worse now.

Steve being straight kinda softened the punch of any unrequited feelings Eddie had. He had to accept the cruel reality of Steve never even being able to return them. And he was sure he could live with that.

What he wasn’t sure he could live with is Steve liking guys, but still not liking him.

He bitterly wondered what could Jonathan possibly have that he didn’t. Which wasn’t fair at all because it wasn’t his fault that Steve would choose to date him instead of Eddie. Eddie even liked Jonathan.

This was gonna be torture. But Eddie knows that he was still gonna suffer through it. There wasn’t anything really, that could keep him away from Steve.

[ihadrelationswithyourmother]

Hi! I’ve been writing a fanfiction called SCOTT PILGRIM VS THE CONSEQUENCES TO HIS ACTIONS (not all caps it just looks cool like that) on AO3 (as kingofheadaches) and Wattpad (as raredforever) and I’ve decided to start posting on Tumblr as well. It’s a reverse AU where Ramona has to fight all of Scott’s exes, with a few twists. I hope you like it!!

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Title: SCOTT PILGRIM VS THE CONSEQUENCES TO HIS ACTIONS

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Prologue

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“Ramona,” Scott said quietly, laying with his back against the soft mattress owned by his formerly mentioned and current lover. “I know we were having sex a moment ago, but you need to know something.”

“We weren’t having sex.” Ramona’s voice is muffled by a pillow as she jerked and turned to face her dumbass boyfriend.

“We weren’t?” Scott raised his eyebrow, then furrowed them, as he tried to determine what they had been doing for the previous ten minutes.

Scott and Ramona had been dating for about ten weeks now, and Scott had not gotten to second base yet. Wallace had told him he probably already had, because, Ramona being Ramona, she probably was a legend at sex. But Wallace was gay, so what would he even know about boobs?

Scott turned to Ramona, still in deep thought, “But we were kissing and junk.”

“I’m starting to believe you’re a virgin.” Ramona stated, adjusting her tank top strap.

“Well, the jokes on you, because I don't even know what that means.” Scott said much more smugly than anyone who’d ever admitted to having the IQ of a 12-year-old boy who rarely went outside had.

“Jesus, Scott.”

“Just Scott is fine.” Scott took pride in his vast vocabulary of comebacks, though (Your mom, your mother, I’m rubber you're glue, your father, a few legendary burns that he has to reserve for confidential reasons).

Ramona rolled her eyes, then realized why they were talking about this in the first place, “Weren’t you going to tell me something?”

Scott rolled back onto his back, sighing, “Oh, it’s nothing, just my five evil exes.”

“Shit, do I need to fight them or something?” Ramona asked, sitting up a bit.

Scott shrugged, “You could. I mean, you definitely could because you’re like super powerful and it’d be pretty hot so maybe consider it.”

“Scott. What did I say about being sexist?”

Scott thought for a moment. What was sexism again? He would think it was a good thing, since it involved sex and an attractive person was saying it, but Ramona seemed pretty unsexy about the whole ordeal.

“…It’s bad?”

Ramona rolled over and obstructed his view of her. “I’m going to bed.”

“Aren’t you going to fight my evil exes?” Scott asked, like a child reminding his parents to bring him to the candy store.

“In the morning.”

“But that’s like in six hours.”

“Goodnight, Scott.” Ramona mumbled into her pillow, already falling asleep.

Scott grumbled something about never getting to see anyone fight and how in the morning he’d have to go over to Wallace’s and his house and he wouldn’t get to see anyone fighting but Wallace and his homosexuality as he watched Lucas Lee adaptions of every action movie than included guns, motorcycles, and a hot brunette co-star.

-

Hope you enjoyed!

[lambergeier]

oh yeah I GOTTA get commentary on the new good good. let's do... the first part of the poker game. "What the fuck is wrong with you two?" through to "...Miles was forced to find other things to be annoyed about."

yessss let's do this

“So, what the fuck is wrong with you two?” he asks as Kristoph throws his head back and laughs.

okay so when planning out this fic, i knew basically right away what the first three and last two scenes would be (bad :)), and then i knew that in the middle i wanted a scene with trucy and a scene with kristoph. trucy, because it's not a meaningful depiction of phoenix as a character if you're not also looking at his relationship with his daughter, and kristoph because there wasn't fucking ANY krisnix in in better light and that was a criminal act. it was a criminal act that we wrote a whole aa4 au without any tangible krisnix. so, time to fix that!

emma in particular enjoys the interpretation of krisnix that is like, phoenix genuinely liked this guy once. he really didn't want all those crimes to be his. so that's what i went with, and it dovetailed perfectly with the plot need at this point in the story, which is "be ominous af and also call into question phoenix's self-image." thanks kris!

read more lol this bitch got long

Phoenix and Kristoph’s Thursday night poker game (weekly, with allowances for international conference calls and Kaiju attacks) takes place in an unused office high in the Dome, overlooking the catwalks and the Jaegers’ great bowed heads. They show up in their civvies, except when they don’t, and play for the same ten twenty-dollar-bills handed back and forth over the last three and a half years, except when they don’t. Phoenix tenderly nurses a single beer over the course of the night because if he drinks anything more than that Miles will start stumbling into walls. Phoenix hasn’t had a cocktail since he was 26. He hopes dark and stormies miss him as much as he misses them.

phoenix, prevented by his loving and very complicated relationship from becoming an alcoholic in this universe, as miles was prevented from making a sincere effort to kill himself (sad!), will make up for lost time post-fic, mostly by returning to the loving arms of rum cocktails with such intensity that he speed runs alcoholism and ends up sober again within like two and a half years. sorry buddy, non-alcoholic beers be upon ye <3.

phoenix and kristoph don't play for real money because a) not a good way to run a regular two-person poker night, b) they have too much disposable income (all their costs being paid for by the PPDC lol) to make most money below "crazy amounts" super meaningful, c) phoenix is the better card player and would have to work SO much harder if they played no limit/pot limit to make sure he wasn't taking an amount of money from kristoph that would cause kristoph to mail him anthrax. fixed bet is easier all around!

“It’s exactly as we said this afternoon, honored Flight Commander,” Kristoph says, eyes down, cutting the deck with a slick smile. He’s fresh out of the shower, cleaned and pressed and lightly steamed. Phoenix, conversely, smells like a refinery fire. “Klavier experienced a serious heartbreak recently. A temporary hiccup in our drift stability. Nothing to worry about.”

i typed and deleted so many more overtly homosexual descriptors of kristoph in this scene lmao. it was so difficult. like obviously krisnix is real and phoenix wants to chew kristoph's throat (sexually), but i do not believe that phoenix would ever cheat on miles in the situation we have set up here, or even think about it particularly hard, PLUS this is a very short, streamlined fic and we Do Not Have Time For All That.

also like yeah blah blah blah fic about all the things phoenix knows and lies to himself about, the extent of his attraction to kristoph is likely unknown even to him, things he doesn't know or doesn't want to know don't show up in narration because he's In Control blah blah metatextual reason to not have put the gay shit in. but also oh my god the scene was so long already. and they're already SO horny for each other

“Oh, please,” Phoenix says, leaning carefully back in his chair. The aches of the day are beginning to compound—Miles’ quivering hands plus Phoenix’s failing back times a brewing fatigue that could be either of them. “Don’t embarrass yourself. I used to drift with Miles. You think we never dealt with some heightened emotion in the drift?” Kristoph raises a pale eyebrow. He says, “Surely you're not referring to—” Phoenix laughs “Yeah, yeah, c’mon you rat bitch, hit me—” “—The time you conspired to send his adopted father and former commanding officer to die in prison?” “Where I hope he fucking rots,” Phoenix says sweetly and grins. “Deal the cards, Ranger Has-Been.”

one of kristoph's favorite jibes. haha you're actually quite the rage-filled angel of vengeance when you want to be, aren't you, wright? 🤨🏳️‍🌈🔪❓ he doesn't really get tired of it!

Kristoph does so, with the smooth professionalism of a chronic gambler.

not necessarily a trait supported by AJ canon, but i stand by it. i think he's got that shit on a tight leash but he does still, by his word and deed, got it.

Miles dislikes Phoenix’s poker nights for myriad reasons—he thinks it’s wildly inappropriate to gamble with a subordinate; he maintains but has never admitted to a lifelong jealous streak; at the end of the day, he’s just never liked Kristoph that much. That part Miles admits to pretty frequently. But poker nights have withstood it all. For the first few months Phoenix simply swam through Miles’ distaste like a catfish through unhappy, very passive-aggressive waters. When Kristoph failed to set down his cards and propose a rousing twenty minutes of oral sex at any point during their games, Miles was forced to find other things to be annoyed about.

miles: vividly aware that in another life phoenix and kristoph were fucking nightly in a rainbow of dubiously-consensual manners. also miles: completely unable to articulate this without sounding like a lunatic. he knows tho. he knows.

i mean honestly in THIS universe miles has to be quite aware that not only does his partner really look forward to these nights alone with his handsome pilot friend, phoenix is also getting something from this guy (acknowledgement that he's a piece of shit and will continue to be one) that miles absolutely cannot give him in the same way. who wouldn't be resentful! who wouldn't be resentful of having to sit in the back of the theater every night and watch this shit happen! especially if you are having an atrociously bad time with your own life at the same time, continuously!

by word of god (me and emma's fevered IRL conversations), breaking the drift and marrying phoenix does solve all of edgeworth's jealousy problems forever, just so everyone knows. post-in better light phoenix goes to visit kristoph in jail to have intensely erotic discussions about death and culpability, twenty feet apart, no touching, and when phoenix comes home miles is like "so did you fuck him?"

phoenix, frozen in his hobble up the stairs, genuinely unable to tell if what he just did was 'fucking': uhhhhhhhhh

miles with full, complete sincerity, in the absolute true confidence that he and phoenix will die before they break up again: it doesn't matter to me if you did. but you should probably know for your own planning purposes

miles: in case he tries to babytrap you, perhaps

[accessible-tumbling]

Video description: The Quora site is displayed and the narrator, who has a British accent and is speaking quickly and excitedly, opens by reading from it: "My MacBook Air weighs 2.3 pounds. If I download more files on it, will it make it heavier?

"This is Quora," he continues. "A place where once grand intellectual questions would be mused over. But if you recall, 2 years ago we sadly bid farewell to our friend, Yahoo Answers, a place where those sorts of questions didn't happen, and in that time it seems many Yahoo users have made Quora their new home.

"Do chimpanzees get pregnant? Does anyone live on the sun? How high do planes fly when landing? What percentage of people are going to die? Do lesbians get periods?"

(A response to that question is read in a gruff tone:) "Oh, come on! Where the hell are you getting that question?"

"You are sleeping with your partner and suddenly realize that he/she is a ghost. What would you do? Are there werewolves in Texas? Why does the sausage have two ends? What happens to the time it takes to actually time travel into the past/future? Which hole does an actress push out a baby in a birth sense?"

(Another answer is read:) "She doesn't. She acts."

"I heard that in the Middle Ages, nobles used to wipe their butts with ducklings. Is that right?"

(Response, gruffly:) "No!"

"Is it true that pregnant women should not sleep during a lunar or solar eclipse as it may cause harm to the unborn?"

(Response:) "No. That's the dumbest thing I ever heard."

"Can I sue Germany for putting my grandfather in prison for 7 years in the second world war?"

(Response:) "No, no, no, no, no!"

"Can you think of a sentence that contains the words 'book' and 'crabs'?"

(Response:) "Well, yes, I can."

"Why does the 'bros' abbreviation for 'brothers' end in 's' instead of 'th'?"

(Response:) "Because that would spell 'broth'."

"Do rich people get embarrassed that their servants know what their stuff in the toilet looks like?"

(Response:) "This is a very weird question."

"What happens when we wash vessel and use it with water in which a lizard was dead? Is it poisonous? What can we do?"

(Response:) "Uhh..."

"Why does the United States promote homosexuality and not consider what happened in the petrified village of Pompeii?"

(Response:) "Wha…?"

"How can I have sex with Asia?"

(Response:) "Pretty sure you mean an Asian girl."

"Is Israel on the world map? Are the Irish really from Ireland? My son speaks Arabic. (in a panicked, shouting tone:) What do I do? Does India have airports?"

(Response:) "Putin came to India in 2014 swimming in the ocean. I have a photo to prove." (A flash of a picture of Putin swimming can be seen briefly at this point in the video.)

"Where do animals live? Why are things? What is my date of birth? Do you know a microscope? Real mathematicians (in all caps): I have 5 live cows and then I multiply them by 0. How then do you come and tell me that I end up with 0? Where did the 5 go? Which is larger: 0 or 2+7? Math math what is angle?

(Narrator comment: "I do believe this Quora user was intending to ask 'what are the names of the most powerful angels?' but…) What are the names of moist powerful angles? I'm an atheist who believes in God. What should I do? Why do atheists watch fiction movies? During airplane turbulence, how do atheists keep calm?"

(Narrator comment: "This question I could only find an old link for, even Quora went nowhere, not even, that is way too stupid:) How do atheists know what foods are 'sweet' versus 'sour' or 'bitter'?

"I am 11 and stand at 5 foot 2. Am I obese? Do celebrities fart? What's the meaning of a single white egg left at my door? (narrator's comment: that is weird.)

"My mom slapped her own bum in front of me what does that mean? Is this correct, 'similarvgbhujkljhgtyhujk'? Why is Zelda so 'thicc' in Breath of the Wild? Do demons always say 'I am a demon' when they are introduced? Is it possible to balance your entire body on your penis?"

(Response:) " Yes, but I'm scared of heights."

"I saw the cop the gay eating a raw bird in my backyard. What should I do?" (Narrator comment: "I became a bit obsessed with this question, it's so indecipherable and googled it for clues to find apparently there was much debate on the site about whether this was a weird autocorrect from 'cat'. Which word was supposed to be cat?")

"Can deaf people laugh out loud? Can deaf people do surfing? How do def people know what facial expressions look like and how they're used outside of American Sign Language (ASL)? If so, how do they learn about them if there's no way to see someone else make that face?" (Narrator comment: "I mean, I don't think there's any intelligent questions actually left on this site, is there? Who's asking 'Can music cause candle to light?' Obviously, no!")

"Do people still eat mashed potatoes? (Yes!) Can semen travel up your foot? (No,, it cannot.) Is the word 'stay asleep' alwasy spelled 'J'? (I don't even know what that means.) Do lobsters pee from their faces? (Uh, ugh, are you mad? Obviously no!)"

(Response:) "Yes, as others have pointed out, many crustaceans have two different types of excretory organs, both near the head. Usually only one is used, depending on the age of the animal. Lobsters and crabs, etc, use their urine smell like cats, to mark territory, warn rivals, etc." (Uh..oh.)"

The screen goes white and the scene transitions to footage of the narrator walking up to a door. He places an egg on the mat, then runs away.

End video description.

[exhuastedpigeon]

Here, to make up for anons, have a lil somethin somethin.

----

"You're not going out with Buck tonight?" Marisol asked, settling on the couch at his side.

"No, he's got plans with Tommy. They're going out to watch a meteor shower or something."

"Huh. That's very date-like of them."

"I mean, yeah? They're dating." The way her eyes flew open in surprise made his stomach twist. Shit, had he not told her they were dating?

"Buck is dating Tommy? They're...dating each other?"

"Yes? For a few weeks now. Remember when we saw them at that pizza place? They were on a date."

"Oh." She looked troubled. "I didn't realize either of them was...homosexual."

The way she said it made Eddie's eyebrow twitch. "Buck is bisexual, but yes, Tommy's gay."

"And you were fine hanging out with him all that time?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?" he said, starting to hate the direction this conversation was taking.

"What if he'd hit on you?"

He sighed. "Gay men aren't compelled to hit on every man they know. And so what if he did? I'd tell him no thanks and we'd go back to whatever we were doing."

"And Buck is your best friend!"

"Yes," he said, firmly. "Always will be."

"And you're just fine with him dating a man."

"Again, why wouldn't I be?"

"It's unnatural, Eddie!" she said, in an unlovely outburst.

He went cold. "What?"

"It's forbidden by the Church."

"Maybe I don't give a fuck what the Church thinks. Why are you acting like this?"

"I'm not acting like anything, I'm just...this is what I believe."

He got up, raking a restless hand through his hair. "Well, it's not what i believe."

"And you're just fine with them being around Christopher?" she said.

Eddie's whole body went very still. He just stared at her for a moment, incandenscent rage filling every cell. Without a word, he walked over to the front door and opened it. "Get out."

She sat there, mouth open and stunned, for a moment. She got up, picked up her purse, and stepped outside. She turned. "Eddie..."

"Stay away from my family," he said, and shut the door in her face.

Lori this is so good! It feels like this might actually be where Eddie and Marisol are heading, especially after the nun reveal.

I would love to see protective Eddie come out and just really hammer home that Buck is nonnegotiable in his life.

[sapphyreopal5]

I’ve noticed a lot of the fandom attacking Jensen all because a character on the show 9-1-1 was revealed to be bisexual and people are saying that’s Jensen’s a coward and a homophobe which I don’t believe because he was willing to do a sex scene with Tony Starr before they changed the storyline, but Jensen’s homophobic because he didn’t want his canonically straight character to kiss Mr. Chapped Lips? How does that make sense? I was just curious if you had an opinion about this

Hello Anon, thank you for the ask :) Mr. Chapped Lips, HA love it! People have been calling Jensen homophobic for years now unfortunately. This clip from Asylum 3 back in 2009 shows him saying "You know, I would say yes, but then Brokeback Mountain came out, and my desire to do a cowboy film completely tanked" when someone asked if he'd like to do a cowboy movie. In 2013, he also essentially stated in this clip he's going to pretend he doesn't know what the question was when someone was asking a question (partially asked, mind you) starting with "I love your character becoming more comfortable with himself this season. I'm bisexual and I have noticed some possible subtext that you might be..." to which he started off with saying "I'm thoroughly confused" and essentially shoos off the question... It is possible this Jensen receipts Twitter account is a Destiel account (seems to me it is) but the clips do show what was said at different conventions to show you why people believe Jensen Ackles is homophobic.

Of course, us logical people who DID watch the show know it is NOT canon for Dean to be homosexual at all. Why Misha calls it a love confession, pandering to the loud members of the Destiel shippers crowd is 'cause $$$ I found the above GIFs from this post here but thought I'd have the GIFs on here for VISUAL purposes, so these people can have a direct point of reference staring them right in the face. The episodes in question that post mentions where Dean specifically says he's straight in his own quirky ways are Croatoan (Season 2, Episode 9), Jus in Bello (Season 3, Episode 12), and Live Free or Twihard (Season 6, Episode 5). Of course, I don't agree with the original poster this was merely because he was "in danger" and stressed out from it. He likely went with the gay couple scenario with Sam in Bugs (Season 1, Episode 8) as to not "cause waves" with potentially buying a house keep attention elsewhere as far as not looking suspicious with investigating.

As far as the said scene he was going to do with Antony Starr prior to the changing of the story line, I am assuming it is this you're talking about that is in the original comics. I see the show changed it so that Homelander is in fact Soldier Boy's son, which makes sense as to why he refused to do the scene. Instead, we got the "Herogasm" episode in season 3. Now as for why the script changed from the original comics to this episode, I don't know.

My overall opinion is, Jensen is probably tired of people talking about Destiel. It's not canon to the show period. Also, do people realize what phobes are? Genuine yet extreme fears. It is one thing to not like something or to have prejudices or discriminate against something, but it's another to fear it. To differentiate between these things, I am linking this website here and also copy and pasted the chart included in it for visual references. To discriminate is to deny rights, privileges and opportunities to members of a particular group. To have prejudice against something is to have an unfair and unreasonable feeling or opinion of something often formed without enough knowledge or thought. Having a phobia means to have an extreme, irrational, fear of something that may cause a person to panic and is described as being a type of anxiety disorder. Now, does Jensen actively fear or straight up avoid gay people or Destiel fans? No. He has still signed things or taken photographs with Destiel fans over the years, despite saying Destiel doesn't exist multiple times. Maybe not with the biggest smile in the world about it but he has not denied taking photos with any of them or complained hardcore about it.

I said in another post it's possible Jensen is not straight but is bi leaning more towards women. However, I do not believe he will act upon this as far as being in a relationship with anyone who isn't a woman (despite the fact he's still currently married to Elta). As far as a recent clip I saw floating around somewhere that a Destiel fan was told they couldn't ask their question about Destiel (despite Misha saying they can ask), I say that this causes unnecessary controversy and that Creation wants to keep things pleasant for everyone. Destiel fans are straight up too aggressive and pushy about making their ship canon and reality for several years now, despite Jensen and others saying no it isn't. If Jensen were to kiss any man, it honestly would not be Misha. Sorry not sorry here...

Thanks for the ask Anon.

[kairithemang0]

Here's the really long post no one asked for.

So, I know like 3 of you are also Kingdom Hearts fans, this is for you guys.

A few weeks ago, I made a joke post with the caption of "no, Owen! Who else will I be gay spies with?" and someone replied to that with wondering how many people actually get the joke and we went on a whole thing about KH and SAF and it was a great time.

I've thought about that post a decent amount since then, and with my Treasured Memories edit from yesterday, it's got me thinking about the parallels between Rokushi (the ship between Roxas and Xion) and Curtwen.

Roxas and Xion are in a cult

Like that's just what organization 13 is. They take in stray Nobody's (which is what happens to the body of someone when they become a heartless) and tell them they if they work for them, they'll be helping create something what will get their hearts back.

So, how does this relate to SAF? While I wouldn't call their governments a cult, I would say they're trapped there after they join. You can't just retire from being a spy, even if you're not going on missions, you still have all those secrets.

The Organization won't just let Roxas and Xion go, especially since we know what they're using them for. Like how Curt and Owen are some of the greatest spies and are essential to their respective agencies, Roxas and Xion are the most important members of org. They're the only ones who can really help with the organizations goal because they can free hearts. Both of these duos are incredibly important, they're the ones doing all the heavy lifting. People like Barb and the Informant in SAF are important, of course, but they're not the ones out on the field.

Shifting focus, Curt and Owen's nights together are literally just the clocktower trips in Days. It's where Roxas and Xion's friendships really grow, even though they do go on missions together. They talk about their days, catch up, or just sit and eat ice cream together because that's literally what friendship is to them. Of course, Curt and Owen are doing a lot more than just sitting and talking, but it's still where they probably bond the most. They work together, yes, but this is their time off, when they get to let down their guard and be with someone they trust, which I doubt happens too much to spies who are also hiding their homosexuality.

As the game goes on, Roxas and Xion's time together eating ice cream gets less and less frequent, as their friendship becomes rockier and cracks in their trio start to form. I don't know whose Axel in this SAF au, which I guess is a problem with the au as a whole, but I think not having an Axel there is fine. The long and short of Axel's part in KH is that he knows the truth but can't tell Roxas and Xion because then he's at risk of danger and so are they.

So, things get worse and worse with Roxas and Xion over time, Roxas falls into a coma, and Xion begins to find out she's a replica (which is basically a vessel that memories were put into to give it life). This part will be important later. For Curtwen, this is their time together starting to show the cracks in their relationship, Curt will screw something up or he'll do something stupid, and they'll get into trouble and Owen will brush it off. Curt is an amazing spy, but sometimes he's in over his own head. They're also worried about getting caught.

I'd like to talk more about them getting caught, because I do think it relates to something in KH fairly well.

So, Roxas is something called a Nobody, and Xion is led to believe she is one as well. They're led to believe by the organization that nobody's do not have hearts, that they aren't meant to feel anything. In SAF, this relates to the way Curt and Owen's relationship is seen. It's a relationship that shouldn't happen, that'll get them kicked out of the agency and outcasted from society if anyone were to know. Hearts to Nobody's aren't supposed to happen, and yet Roxas and Xion still feel. This relationship isn't meant to happen between Curt and Owen, and yet they're still having it.

358/2 Days, the game Roxas and Xion star in, has been called a "playable tragedy". You watch these friends form these tight bonds, you watch Roxas and Xion grow heart and memories and become one with each other, and then Xion learns the truth. She was never meant to exist. The nobody's have been told that a lot, but she's not even a nobody. She's a robot that went against her programming, so to speak. The long and short of it is that Xion is another characters memories of this girl named Kairi. Everyone sees Xion differently, Roxas sees her with black hair, Axel sees her as a girl named Namine, a guy named Xigbar sees her as a kid named Ventus who at this point in release order has never even been mentioned by name. At first Xion was this hooded figure with no face, but as she grew with the people around her, she gained a heart of her own. To me, Owen was never one to stray away from the point of the job until he met Curt. Curt made him reckless, gave the job more fun because they were getting into danger together. Before Curt, Owen thought his job was boring because he was so good at it. He wasn't meant to be able to break away from this job, but Curt gave him reason to. Curt was fun and reckless and got them into more trouble than was probably worth, but he made the job interesting. Roxas and Xion work together as a team because they were practically made for each other (and in canon are very closely tied together through heart shenanigans it's a whole thing).

Ok so back to the finale of Days. Basically, Xion gets reprogrammed and needs to kill Roxas. The reason being is that she doesn't want to do the bidding of the organization anymore and has been giving a chance to get out of it by, get this, literally offing herself. So the organization captures her and remakes her the way she was intended to be. When Roxas sees Xion's face, she doesn't look like Xion anymore. She looks like the person whose memories she's stole.

This is very DMA coded to me, not the whole offing herself to go back to her previous half, but the being remade to do the bidding of someone else. Xion still remembers that if she dies, she'll be dying for the sake of someone else, but her programming is telling her she needs to kill Roxas because that's what the organization needs from her.

I'm rewatching their fight scene and the line "this puppet will have to play her part" is veryyyyyy Owen got brainwashed by Chimera coded. I don't personally believe Owen got brainwashed, but OUGH ow.

This version of Xion, and Owen's mindset after seeing Curt again after four years, just wants to end the lives of the people they once cared so deeply for. To Curt and Roxas, the people that they love are just gone, the real Owen and Xion they can't get back. Xion appears as this armored thing of darkness to fight Roxas, and Owen is shown as someone who only sees Curt for all of the flaws he pushed away. This whole seen is very One Step Ahead to me. They're even swinging swords at each other and everything!

After their battle where Roxas wins, Xion and Roxas fall from the clocktower, the place they spent so much time together, and Roxas doesn't remember her. She begins to die in his arms, and for a moment all the memories rush back to him, he holds her in his arms before she dies. He gives the iconic line of "no, xion who else will I have ice cream with?" and then she disappears into darkness.

GUYS- THIS IS SO CURT AFTER HE KILLED OWEN I SWEAR-

Curt has tried this entire show to get Owen out of his mind so that he can go back to being a spy and doing his job. And he keeps failing. Now Owen shows up, and not only that but he wants him dead. They fight, and Curt wins. Now he's holding Owen after all of this pain, and Owen is gone again. And all of it is his fault. Owen's gone now, there's no getting him back. We don't know what Curt does to Owen after he dies, probably holds his dead body in pure devastation that he killed not only his best friend but the person he cared about so much. And Owen simply drifts away, with no way of getting him back.

Days ends with Roxas in a data version of the town he spent so much of the game in, new friends, new problems. He ends up dying as well. In SAF, this is probably whatever happened post canon to lead to Curt's death, whatever that may be.

So Xion in the real organization 13 is floppy disk Owen and when Roxas comes back it's actually a clone of Curt guys trust me on this-

Sorry, this is long and probably doesn't make much sense. I love 358/2 days, story wise it's one of my favorite KH games. And I obviously love Spies Are Forever, shocking absolutely no one. This was honestly just fun to write, I know this'll probably get at max like 3 notes but yknow what whatever.

Also I'd like to briefly talk about the name I'm going for for this ig au? This comparison let's call it.

358/2 days is a reference to the time roxas and xion were in the organzation together. the /2 (over 2) means it's over 2 people. So missions is the 358 missions Curt has gone on, some with Owen, and some not. We don't have an exact amount of missions, but for this I'm going with 358 because idk it just works in my head

[gogandmagog]

I saw you reblog some Walter posts which only affirms that we could be best friends! Walter is my favorite Blythe son by far. So now I’m curious, do you think Walter was gay?

We been knew! Of course we could be besties! Lol. And Walter is my most cherished Blythe son too, with Shirley quick on his heels, and Jem unfortunately left in the dust. (Which is not to say that I don't love him! I do!)   But I have no definitive answer for this, and I always wish I did. I tend to lean on “no,” when what I really want to say is “yeah, probably.” I waffle on Walter. The truth is that Maud was just as staunchly homophobic as her then-contemporary peers, and that she didn’t ever write a single gay character in her entire career. Mary Rubio has stated as much, when asked for her opinion about Anne’s sexuality (discourse about her relationship with Diana), backing up her own comments by essentially sharing that she personally “left a lot out” out of Maud’s journals (when quite a bit was actually already left in, suggesting that what was ‘cut’ was probably closer to hate speech), when editing them, particularly around the subject of Maud’s ‘disgust’ of a woman expressing interest in her (Rubio was so dedicated to her biography task that she went and interviewed the woman in question, who was 90 years old by then). And so, it’s abundantly clear that if Maud herself was asked, is Walter gay? The answer would be an emphatic no. And that would settle it. He is simply whatever she says he is. (Sexless overall was her intention, I believe.) And in the texts spanning three whole books (RV, RoI, tBaQ), there’s no solid evidence that Walter might be homosexual, like, you really do have to squint for any of it — I genuinely think there’s harder evidence to support Dean Priest was in love with Douglas Starr. AND YET... and yet. There’s a vibe to Walter that I can’t grasp, and even though I can’t grasp it, I also can’t let go of it. It’s indefinable... and I’m just out here waiting for the day that someone with an impeccable grasp of language can define it, so that I can repeat it. 😅

Thank you for asking, though! What are your thoughts? I’m always fully sat for this conversation.  

[blueshistorysims]

Early January 1909, Willow Creek College, England

“How was your winter holiday?” Joel asked the moment Byron stepped into their dorm. 

“Horrible. I thought summer break was bad, but…” He sighed. “My poor sister.”

Upon returning home for the summer, Alexander and Byron learned of the argument Edeline had with their parents, and her refusal to even eat dinner with their mother. Byron pitied his sister greatly, and he felt anger at his mother for saying such horrible things. The summer only got worse since Alexander smartly decided to spend all his free time with his beau Edith so they could snog all day, leaving Byron to comfort his two sisters.

Christmas had only multiplied the awkwardness. Edeline still refused to speak to their mama, and Rebecca refused to apologize. Byron honestly thought that Edeline was going to run away and never come back, and he wouldn’t blame her. He had never been more glad in his life to leave after New Year’s.

“Well, maybe they will make amends.”

“I pray to God that they do,” he muttered, sitting next to his friend. 

“I still can’t believe next year is your last.”

“I know,” Byron replied. “I’m turning 14 next month, and I’m already looking at universities.”

“Good luck.”

The friendship he had with Joel was far different from the friendship he had with Reggie. It was a different connection, a different feeling, and Byron didn’t know how to describe it. He was always happier when Joel was there, and sometimes, when they messed around, and Joel would touch him, his heart fluttered. 

He didn’t know what to make of his feelings, so he went to the one place he found refuge, the library. More often than not, he found himself reading Leaves of Grass by Walt Wittman, The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, among others, books that had been decried by Victorian society for their depictions of homosexuality, and yet, he couldn’t stop reading them. The words were comforting, relatable.

So perhaps it wasn’t surprising that it dawned on him, reading in the library late at night that reason why he connected with the words so much. The descriptions of the men and their relationships was how he felt about Joel. He was attracted to Joel. He was attracted to men.

The revelation shocked him, and if he hadn’t been in a library, he would have screamed. He liked men? That couldn’t be. He’d had crushes on girls in the past. He liked women. He was horrified by the thought. 

Unknowing what else to do, he went back to his room, close to tears, and to his relief, found it empty. He slammed the door shut and sat on the floor, leaning against his bed. “My god,” he whispered, tears spilling from his eyes.

So of course, five minutes later, the door opened, and Joel walked in, pointing at something. “Byron, are you  in t-what’s wrong?” He asked, surprised to see the state his friend was in. 

Byron looked up and wanted the scream. He was the last person he wanted to see. “...It-it’s nothing.”

Joel frowned and sat next to him. “I know we’ve only each other this year, but you can trust me. I consider you one of my closest friends.”

Byron wanted to scream. Instead, he wiped his face and shook his head. “...I couldn’t. I shan’t. Besides, isn’t it normal for us Englishmen to ignore our feelings and never speak of them?”

He laughed. “I am not like most Englishmen, Byron. I don’t think you are either.”

He turned to him, unsure of what to make of his words. “...What?”

Joel swallowed, his face growing pale. “I’ve seen what you’ve been reading lately,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “I’m about to do something very stupid.”

Byron barely processed what his friend had said before Joel pressed his lips against his.

Byron blinked. Joel was kissing him. He was kissing Joel. He liked kissing Joel. After a second, he just closed his eyes and went with it, deciding for once not to care about the consequences. 

[homosexualjavert]

Coworkers, you say? Does that mean that M. Fauchelevant was of the police at some point? Intriguing, do tell me more! He is not very forthcoming about his past- or himself in general, for that matter. How long have you known Monsieur Fauchelevant? What colour was his hair before it became white? How much is he capable of lifting? Would he be able to sling you over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes? Was he always so buff?? The people (I) need to know, Javert!

I see, I wish them the most horrendous vibes as well! I know a woman who has experience in the mystic arts, so perhaps she can curse that individual somehow.

Why, that colour code is a lovely shade of dark green! Hm, perhaps it's too saturated for a recommendation. How about #9a9460, it's a light, warm tan. The colour is neutral enough to go well with Monsieur Fauchelevant's darker ensembles as well as complement the lightness of his hair. I imagine he would look - in my non-homosexual opinion - rather angelic! Regardless, going clothing shopping with the man would be a nice date idea! Er, I mean "outing".

You have unsavory impressions of me?? Do tell, I absolutely love being the centre of others' thoughts!

May you have a speedy recovery (so as not to further "inconvenience" M. Fauchelevant),

-- M.M.

P.S. You have surprisingly succeeded in tagging, well done, Inspector! I believe I wrote a few other missives without my sign-off, if you feel like combing through pages of text? I'm sure if you make a search for "M-sur-M" on your page, I will come up a decent amount haha.

P.P.S. If not a stray cat, then a newly-medicated, formerly feral guard dog.

Er... I would not say... Of the police. He was... a... civil... servant. Why do you all insist upon asking about him!

I have know M. Fauchelevant for almost 40 years, now. Perhaps know is not the correct word, but I have been aware of him for such a time.

His hair? Er... I think it was brown. It was intermingled with streaks of a lighter brown and grey streaks, before it went fully white.

Lifting--! Uh. He. Lifts about as much as a normal person. He has always been very, very buff. Hm.

I implore you not to make use of anyone who participates in such arts. Those... pagan practices. They are not looked upon fondly by the law. I know this very well.

Er! Well. He hates tan. Uhm. Yes. So do I.

You seem very brash and attention seeking. The type of idiocy that comes with success, youth, and smarts. It fades eventually. It always does.

I hope I heal quickly, as well. M. Fauchelevant says it is no problem, but I feel horrible for treading on his hospitality in such a matter. I see no other option, now, so I suppose I must wait till I am healed. I am still unsure what to do to repay him.

I am not feral. If I was to be a dog, I would be very respectable.