#except maybe the old gay couple they knew something was up

[coldblooded-angel]

COVID AU where Art and Tashi are forced to quarantine when the city wide lockdowns prevent them from traveling. They find a motel that would let them rent the room for as long as they need to. Thankfully, Lily is with her grandma and they’re both safe.

I want forced proximity. I want Tashi going stir crazy not having anything to do. I want Art still attempting to keep in shape until one day he’s too lazy to workout or get up out of bed. I want Art and Tashi forced to actually talk about anything other than tennis.

COVID AU where Patrick gets trapped in the lockdown. He knows he can’t stay in his car forever so he goes to the nearest motel and uses his emergency credit card to rent a room.

One day, he decides to use the amenities. He knows the motel has a pool and he’s not surprised to see other guests already there. He knows he should stay 6 feet apart. Except he recognizes that blunt short bob and that mop of blonde curls.

Yeah, Patrick Zweig just casually quarantining with the Donaldsons. It’s definitely gonna turn out fine.

(Blame @lovethelittlerthings for implanting this in my brain 😵‍💫😵‍💫)

[billthedrake]

Another story idea given by @maturedadsandmen

BIRD IN THE HAND

Cole Walker was about two blocks from his destination when his phone rang. He normally wouldn't answer it, but it was his sorta-kinda boyfriend/fuckbuddy John. Cole still made fun of John for still preferring to call instead of just text, but that's what you get sometimes for dating a man much older.

"Hey," the 24 year old answered. DC weather had moved from cold to brisk and his cheeks were flush.

"Hiya sexy," the said. John's voice was a craggy tenor, with an upstate New York accent. "Just wanted to hear your voice."

Cole smiled. The whole arrangement with John was weird, to say the least. The congressional staffer didn't even know the guy's last name. John was an FBI agent who was VERY closeted. In a town like DC, that wasn't unusual, and Cole himself had only told a couple of close friends that he was gay. But John seemed to want the boyfriend stuff as much as the sex. Cuddling, long talks, dates. All while being crazy protective of his privacy.

"Tough day?" Cole asked. He wished he didn't feel so eager to talk to the man, but it wasn't like he was ready for an open boyfriend either. The fact the federal agent was 47 made something real and public seem impossible to the younger man. He, too, enjoyed the play-pretend nature of their dating if he was honest with himself.

"And how," John breathed. "I'm about to meet a buddy for dinner, but I wanted to call... we still on for date night Saturday? I'll take you somewhere nice." It was only then that Cole could tell the man was in a public place and talking a little quieter than normal.

"Yeah," Cole replied. "And you don't have to go all out. I just enjoy seeing you."

There was a contrite pause on the other end. "I know I've not been good at things lately.. but would it be pushing my luck to have you stay over this time?"

Cole's heart pounded. It was hard to hold a grudge. "No, not at all."

John's volume got lower. "Damn, studly," he hissed. "That's gonna help me get through this week all right."

"Yeah," the younger man chimed in.

"Listen... I gotta go. But see you Saturday?"

"Yep," Cole replied. "Looking forward to it."

After they hung up, Cole felt guilty. It wasn't like he and John were boyfriends, really, not in the conventional sense, and they'd never said anything about being exclusive. If the agent ever asked, Cole would very likely agree to be a one-man guy but until then...

But the real reason he felt guilty is that Paul Ricciardi pushed his buttons in a different way than John. Cole dubbed him the "Head Honcho" is his mind, and while Ricciardi wasn't the number one guy at the Bureau, he wasn't that far down the org chart. In a lot of ways, he was the opposite of John - married and addicted to down-low sex, more dominant in bed, and confident in hooking up with a recently graduated dude despite his high-profile position. He knew Cole Walker was after dick and wasn't gonna blab to anyone.

Paul was just wrapping up a phone call when he heard the buzzer of the apartment. The rental was justified as a place to crash for late nights, but certainly his wife knew her 53-year-old husband kept on an affair, maybe more than one. They just never talked about it. The dont-ask-dont-tell approach worked for the law man.

Ricciardi's gruff face cracked a smile when he opened the door to see Cole. Dudes like this were dime a dozen in DC... congressional staffer, needy bottom, daddy issues galore. But this Walker kid was exceptional: he'd played soccer at Georgetown and his bulking up since graduation had interfered with that youthful jock look. The real deal. No two ways about, Cole was gorgeous. Just the right amount of masculine, the right amount of cute, total boy-next-door who still carried that jock gain as he walked in.

"Hey," Cole's voice said, quietly as he walked in. He respected Paul's need for discretion, it was almost intuitive.

"Hey," the career law enforcement man whispered in a soft growl, shutting the door. "You look hot as fuck."

Cole's eyes swept up Ricciardi's build. Mid-50s and fit as ever, the toned daddy beef filling out Paul's conservative but expensive suit and the short-cropped gray hair setting off the intensity of the man's brown eyes. The tie was loosened but other wise he was a poster boy for Bureau leadership. "You too," he gulped.

Paul grinned and reached up to cup the back of Cole's neck, yanking the younger man into a hot kiss.

Cole moaned into Paul's mouth as that thick tongue conquered him. He could taste scotch and smell the man's cologne. Reflexes kicked in as he reached forward to hold the man's suited waist, enjoying the feel of the Head Honcho's hard body beneath.

The kiss was over as quickly as it started. Ricciardi stepped back and reached down to unzip his suit trousers. The man wasn't overly hung - like John, his cock was meaty, even fat. "Gonna suck Daddy's cock, kid?" Paul roughly growled.

"Fuck yes," Cole said. He's been with only six men since first becoming sexually active at 21. But he quickly realized he was all bottom - orally and anally. He was still surprised he'd bagged two FBI men over the last year and a half. Luck, for sure, but it was also clear the ex-soccer jock had a type. Both Paul and John were strong, silent daddy personalities. His own father was a PA state trooper, and one day Cole would have to analyze the fucked-up part of his head that got turned on by that. Or not. Maybe it was something that could never fully be explained - it's just something about a law enforcement man pushed his buttons big time.

Paul Ricciardi was careful about who he fucked. He had a one-at-a-time rule, for the sake of discretion. By now, he'd had his share of hot young men. He'd met some real sluts and a couple of ex-jocks like Cole. But no one had combined that effortless masculinity with a real bottom eagerness like this kid.

"Fuck yeah," he growled as Cole began deep throating that fat hog. "Swallow Daddy."

More than he realized Cole was worked up that evening. He would have chalked it up to missing this cock, but actually Paul had reached out to him more frequently lately, no longer the once a month booty call. Maybe the more he had it, the more he wanted it.

That hand now clasped the back of Cole's neck and held tight as Paul's hips went into overdrive. Fast hard jabs battered the back of Cole's gullet. It was too much, and Cole coughed some on it, which made Paul pause before starting a gentler, if no less deep, thrusting.

Finally he pulled out, that dick spit wet and rock hard. It was beautiful to Cole. Like with John, he decided he liked the extra girth more than he craved extra length. For as bottomy as he was, the young stud wasn't a size queen. He'd prefer a tool that could use him without too much discomfort.

"To the bedroom, kid," Paul hissed, a hint of a smile cracking on the stern face. He was used to being in charge in every aspect of his life. He was in charge now. But something about this jock stud made him feel a little less in control.

Cole scrambled up. He'd learned to come over to Paul's prepared. Sometimes the two took their time, sometimes the married man seeded him in two minutes flat and sent him back home. As they entered the spare bedroom for the apartment, Cole quickly peeled off his sweatshirt and T in one move and just as quickly kicked off his sneakers and peeled down the jeans. There was nothing underneath and his own hardon stood up erect and excited. Cole may not have had the girth of his boyfriend or this man, but he was hung longer and the sparser crotch hair made his jock bone look even longer.

Paul was taking off his suit and laying it on a chair. He'd hang it up later. For now, his ravenous eyes were on Cole as he got onto the bed, on all fours. They didn't always mate this way but it was Ricciardi's favorite position, and Cole's too, thought they'd never talked about it. They just fucked.

Then watched the Head Honcho step toward the bed, his body tightly dense from dedicated workouts. The chest fur wasn't as silver as his hair, but it was getting there, and it got denser the closer toward that magic cock, which was already dripping.

"Damn, when was the last time you got off?" Cole asked.

Paul climbed on the bed and ran his hand over the ex-jock's dusty haired but half smooth rump. "Fucked the wife yesterday," he hissed. "I'm just a horny guy."

"I'll say," Cole replied. He didn't know what he thought about fooling around with a married man. It probably wasn't the moral thing to do. At least John was single, or said he was single. Maybe the man lied, hence the lack of a last name.

Then Cole felt the nuzzling of the man's face in his clean crack and the contact of that thick tongue. John was actually better at rimming, or at least liked to go longer, but something about Paul's intensity drove him wild. "Yes," he hissed backing his ass back against the man's munching face. A hard slap hit his cheek as the Head Honcho dove in more eagerly. It was gonna be a quick one, but Ricciardi was a grade-A ass man and could rarely resist a taste of Cole's jock hole.

"Goddamn," the FBI man finally said as he leaned up. Cole could feel that hard beef press against his back as Paul reached over for some lube. Just a squirt, not too much... Ricciardi liked a snug ride.

The man quickly fingere Cole and almost as quickly lined up that fat prick to press in.

Cole's deflowering, the night after his 21st birthday, had been by a very patient man, and he'd lucked out to find a couple of tops who knew how to go slow at first. Paul Ricciardi was the first man to show Cole he didn't always need slow.

That dick popped in now, snapping open the elasticity of the young man's pucker.

"Fuck yes!" Paul growled. He leaned forward again, covering Cole's smooth back with his own meaty furry one. "You feel that kid?"

"God yes," Cole hissed. Maybe it was the rank or the badge, but everything about Paul turned him on and made this FAR easier than he'd ever imagine. He even enjoyed the crude way Ricciardi's bone just barreled in further, past his internal tightness. "Fuck me, man."

That was Paul's cue, his green light. Wrapping an arm around Cole's shoulder and neck, he held on tightly and thrust all the way into the hot stud. Barely taking a rest, he began fucking, hard.

"Oh fuck!" Cole whimpered. He wished he could keep his normally deep voice low, but the pitch rose once Paul reamed him like this. "Oh god, oh fuck!"

A hand clasped over his mouth. Paul wasn't overly verbal today, though he could be. Instead he gripped the kid close and rode him hard. It had been a tough week and he needed a fuck like this to channel his stress.

Each mating like this made Cole wonder if it could get better. His prick was now leaking like crazy on Paul's bedsheets and his muscles flexed involuntarily in the man's strong grip.

THIS is what made him feel about going around behind John's back. Cole wished to god that John could fuck like this, or would fuck like this. The Head Honcho was even less available a man than John, but he outmanned Cole's boyfriend in the sack.

BAM, BAM, BAM. Paul's fat cock was relentless now. Some guys couldn't take it. Cole could, and would. The very knowledge had the FBI big-wig's prick getting slick with his own precum.

Cole concentrated and forced himself to quiet his moans. The hand unclasped from his mouth and moved to feel up more of the ex-soccer jock's lean body.

"You're close," he heard. Paul wasn't asking a question.

Cole forced his voice back to its deeper register. "Yah." He felt light headed now. Before Paul he thought hands-free cums were a myth. They weren't though, and he was about to offer proof again now.

"Oh shit," he breathed in a whisper. His dick jerked and the first spray of precum jetted out, matching what Paul was pushing deeper and deep into his guts with each hard jab.

BAM, BAM, BAM. The fucking was harder and faster, if possible, only Ricciardi was starting to lose his cadence. The man was orgasming now.

Cole's dick now jerked again, and the cum flew out. Seven heavy ropes of young cum being pressed out from within. Cole didn't pass out exactly, but he lost focus, like he'd sucked too many poppers at once.

Paul's body slowed and now rested immobile on his back. A light kiss was the one gesture of affection Ricciardi offered him, ever, but the simple act was more powerful for it. Cole wished he could have experienced his partner's cum more vividly, but the payoff of the simultaneous orgasm made up for it. He and John had done that once.

Paul rolled his muscular, FBI-fit body off his sexual conquest and lazily plopped onto the mattress. He was sweaty and handsome as fuck and his prick still twitched in its wetness, semen oozing out of the tip.

Just as lazily Ricciardi reached over to stroke Cole's side as the younger stud gingerly stretched his legs and lay on his back. "Remind me to thank your boyfriend for the hall pass," he hissed.

Cole had told the Head Honcho that he was seeing someone. He's admitted it to put Paul at ease for a discreet hookup, but he regretted sharing that info now. "He doesn't know, actually."

Paul chuckled. "I thought you said you had an arrangement... but that's cool, kid."

Cole felt embarrassed. "I mean, we don't have an exclusive thing, but I guess I haven't gone into details with him."

Normally the Head Honcho would be getting up, going to piss, showering off, or just slipping on some sweat pants in a clear signal it was Cole's time to go. Instead the man's eyes seemed not to get enough of the 24-year old and his hand moved up to gingerly stroke Cole's cute-handsome face.

"Well, I'm glad this works out for you," Ricciardi said. "I know I come on strong, but you're really fucking hot."

"I know," Cole smiled. He knew his worth, but it was also a joke.

Paul got it, chuckling. "As you can tell, I'm a busy man... but I'd love to see you a little more often. If it works out with you and your boyfriend." For a take-charge man, he seemed surprisingly shy in his request.

"That's be hot," Cole said. Paul Ricciardi didn't kiss as much as Cole would like, almost never after the act itself. But it was hard to give up the man's harder approach in bed and his overall sexiness. "You're really fucking hot, too."

"I know," Paul repeated Cole's joke back to him in perfect timing. "Am I hotter than your boyfriend?" he asked with a wink, then patted Cole's chest. "Sorry, that was my male competitiveness kicking in."

Cole nodded. He wasn't going to give Paul the satisfaction of an answer. Besides he didn't know how he would answer. John was sexy as fuck, too, and reminded Cole a lot of Paul in his stature, build, and appearance. "Maybe I shouldn't admit this but he works for the bureau, too."

"Yeah?" he smirked.

"Yeah," Cole nodded. He was glad to see Paul's laid back side. Maybe being married, the man wasn't bothered by hearing about another man. Lazily, the man's fingers caressed Cole's chest muscle. "John. A field agent," Cole said, opening up. He'd not been able to tell a single other soul about the most important development of his life over the last year. It turns out this DL hookup with a DC big shot gave him the only opportunity. He blushed as he added, "Funny thing is I don't even know his last name. He's super closeted. Always going on about how he's married to the Bureau and doesn't have time for anything else."

"Sounds like my brother Jo..." Paul stopped, his face growing beet red and his fingers pausing in their motion on Cole's naked body. "Jesus Christ, you're not fucking my brother are you?"

Cole was taken aback. The idea was crazy and yet once Paul said, he knew it was possible, even likely. The resemblance wasn't dead-on, but it wasn't far apart either. "I dunno," he stammered. "Fuck."

Paul got out of bed and Cole felt bad. Ashamed but also pissed. This guy was probably overreacting. There had to be a thousand Johns in the Bureau. But judging from the Head Honcho's reaction, Cole worried he'd fucked up a good thing.

Only Paul's expression wasn't anger as he walked back in. He had his phone in his hand. He slid back into bed and held it up. There was a photo of John already, probably taken a year ago at the beach, the agent in chino shorts and a casual polo, barefoot in the sand at sunset.

"Is that him?" Paul asked, like he was interrogating a suspect.

Cole nodded, tears welling at the edge of his eyes. "Sorry, Paul," he muttered. "Fuck, I didn't know."

Paul gave a grimace which was strangely comforting as he set down his phone. "I know you didn't, kiddo." He gave Cole a good look, like he was still trying to process things. "Confirmed bachelor, my ass," he laughed cynically.

"I don't know... he's kept things casual with us. Sometimes I think it's more a fuck buddy thing, you know?" Cole was trying to make it sound better, but the more he talked the more he realized it was sounding worse.

Paul had one last shake of the head. "Well, my brother had good fucking taste... I'll give him that." Then, "maybe you should go, OK?"

His tone was surprisingly empathetic, not mean. Cole could tell Paul was feeling concern that he'd encroached in onto his brother's guy and was processing the fact John was very probably full-on gay. And maybe the Head Honcho was worried how Cole was processing all this.

"Yeah," the ex-jock said, quickly gathering his clothes to put back on.

"Don't worry, kid," Paul said, leaning up in his bed, still naked and hunky looking. "This shit happens. Well, maybe not very often, but it's nothing to get freaked over."

"I'm OK," Cole said gamely. A million thoughts were racing in his mind but one worry in particular.

"But what?" Ricciairdi prompted, able to tell something was bugging the young guy.

"I shouldn't admit this," Cole said. "But I'm gonna miss the sex we've had."

Paul's brown eyes sought his and it was like their connection was a spark of energy. "Me, too, kid, me too."

Cole Walker thought about those words the whole walk back to his apartment.

[mymreaderlibrary]

I need more old man yoai. Its just, it's good soup, ya know. I want them to get a house and adopt a teenage kid. Just family stuff ya know. Its good soup, ya know.

SORRY THE SOUP TOOK SO LONG, but I did my best to try and fulfill this ask. There were some changes to your idea but I hope it still works 😭

Old man yaoi pt 3 here we go

[long distance, weird fucky timeline, use of y/n, mention of the soap-cident except he’s fine because I said so, minor homophobia, some angst, an original character, and my adamance to be slow as fuck with romance].

[length: 2227 words]

|

|

|

Getting to finally kiss each other didn't open the floodgates per say but it did give them enough respite that their "tenseness" subsided. The rest of the 141 were relieved that the pair had somehow righted their differences, even if they still didn't know what those differences were, and Soap congratulated them on "making up".

It was awkward for a bit and while it was nice knowing the feelings were recuperated neither knew what was too much or too little so they rarely made any advances. When they did finally feel confident enough, usually in complete privacy and far late into the night, it would be a lot of soft touches. Thumbs running over knuckles, shoulders bumping lightly together, maybe even a hug if they were feeling bold (though it was more like just leaning on each other as they never raised their arms higher than the hip). They kissed a good few times again but it was like a rare treat. 

Despite everything neither had actually been with another man before, y/n got close at a gay bar a while ago but a light shined directly into his eyes and he got a migraine that forced him to leave. The unfortunate side effect of previous head injuries. Meanwhile Price had casual relationships with women in the past but not men, however it's not like they lasted for too long anyways as his devotion to his work spared little room for it. So sue them if they didn't know what to do, this was all brand new and definitely badly timed.

They kept up in a pattern; mission, meetings, and then downtime. Complete a good weeks worth of work, discuss their next steps (and start on them), then pull out a drink and chat. Consider it just their luck that the night things finally felt like they were heating up, privacy was near guaranteed, and tomorrow posed no urgent challenge that Soap decided knocking wasn't necessary and stood there bewildered by the doorway till he caught their attention. Johnny was incredibly apologetic and promised not to tell anyone but the two older men decided it would be better to just come clean before something like that happened again. Laswell of course wasn't surprised, but Gaz and Ghost had a momentary pause that they quickly reassured wasn't from judging just surprise. Overall it went over smoothly and it had the added bonus of giving Price and y/n more alone time. 

(Note: however, the second it was clear to Soap he could freely chat about Price and y/n's relationship it became open season for the worst jokes imaginable. When Soap wasn't instantly flayed, the other guys would join in with a particular "dad joke collector" Ghost staking his claim in the torment). 

-

By the time y/n's work was over Price was hesitant to let him go, knowing they would not have this closeness again unless one of them gave up their current lifestyle. It was honestly a bit tempting, Price had spent about his whole life in the military and it wasn't like anyone could really judge a well seasoned man for retiring. But instead y/n gave him his phone number and the two split ways no matter how badly they yearned otherwise.

And that's how they stayed for the next couple of years, Price always calling from a burner and y/n being left to wait for him by the landline. Bi-monthly they would chat, y/n giving life updates and Price venting about how the 141 were going to give him a damn heart attack. Y/n got service dog, a great dane named Lucy who he couldn't help but boast about to the point the others wanted updates on her too. Price could sometimes hear her sniffing at the phone and was dying to see her in person. It relieved him to know y/n had someone (or something) there with him as the other man had admitted to feeling lonely at home. Still a big part of Price wished that someone could've been him. 

Over time Price reconsidered his stance on retirement with a series of back to back events being his solidifying his choice. It started off with a call from y/n, his family had come into town to visit after years of radio silence and at first it seemed to be going well. That was until his parents asked about his relationship. They sewed a lot of seeds of doubt, not privy to their son dating a male but also not believing it was serious enough to be real considering they never saw Price. His parents were happy to grind their heel into any anxieties their son had which ended up in a full blow up during his mother's birthday. Y/n ended up storming out after his mom made a show of mocking his relationship in front of extended family. He was humiliated that his parents could still get a rise out of him even in his old age. Price had gotten a call from y/n afterwards who sounded completely exhausted. Price desperately wanted to be there to comfort his lover but ultimately the only thing he could do was verbally console him. 

Within the same week Price began noticing a small shake to his hands. Nothing serious but still not something you'd want to see, especially as a sniper. He couldn't tell if it was age, an injury, or stress but it left him with an odd feeing in his stomach. Like his body was trying to tell him something. 

And a little while after that it seemed Soap decided to deliver on that heart attack joke. Out cold in a hospital bed with a list of injuries too long to name, the scotsman had everyone in a panic. Ghost in particular didn't take it well and, while he was good at being outwardly calm, anyone who knew the man proper could tell he was terrified. He just had this vague vacant look in his eye, it wasn't hard to determine he was probably disassociating. Gaz on the other hand tried to keep some semblance of positivity even if he was running on empty. Not the kind of peppy “everything is gonna be okay!” positivity but a rather light kind. The type where you try not to let your own doubt eat you upside by never verbally stating reality. He didn't want this to be the end so he wasn't about to act like it, but he was undoubtedly scared shitless.

Price had called y/n after the incident and it became his turn to be consoled. He wasn't a crier but he imagined if he was there would've been at least a few. He had dealt with shit like this before, but the secret was it never got easier you just got better at being quiet about it. He knew y/n understood that.

-

However by some grace of god Soap woke up. The man was shockingly resilient and not about to let himself get felled by just anything. The asshole was even joking within the first few minutes of consciousness much to Price's chagrin but Ghost and Gaz couldn't have been happier. Those two stayed with Soap for a while and Price was certain he heard scot getting bitched out from across the hall. Make no mistake, even while mad at him for being reckless they were glad to be ranting to his face rather than a casket. 

Y/n got another call after that, the bi-monthly quota quickly exceeded, to deliver the good news. The call was admittedly shorter than their usual but it left them both feeling far more hopeful than the last. When Price closed his burner he couldn't help but think about being there with y/n in person, getting to say these things to his face, even getting to hold him. He hadn't been kissed in years now and he yearned for a moment of peace like that especially after all that stress. A silent decision was made, a bit impulsively, but it was a long time coming. 

After Soap was back up and running the man started taking missions again, this time with an extra watchful eye from the team. But to everyone's surprise one person wouldn't be joining them. In an uncommonly personal meeting, Price announced his retirement to the rest of the 141. Soap had opposed in a panic thinking this was due to his accident, and while it might've inspired part of it, Price assured him this was something he had been thinking about for a while. He felt it was time and well... he had someone he knew was waiting for him. 

The meeting, while bittersweet, left off on a note of pride. Not everyone can say they retired by will and especially not a man of Price's caliber. The team were happy for him but also demanded he try to stay in touch even if only slightly. With a hug from everyone (a shoulder pat from Gaz, a crushing squeeze from Soap, a light hold from Ghost, and a rather sentimental one from Laswell) he said his goodbyes and gave y/n another call.

Y/n sounded a little frazzled upon picking up and confusingly Price noted the sound of another voice in the background, distinctly female. As it turns out it was one of y/n's cousins who, after the birthday disaster, decided to get in contact with him. She felt bad for how the rest of their family had treated him and wanted to make sure he was doing alright. Apparently Ying, as she turned out to be named, was absolutely enamored with Lucy and was giving the dane the play session of a lifetime hence the sounds of chaos. Price instantly eased, especially with how relaxed y/n began to sound as he had settled in to his cousins presence.

They chatted like usual but y/n could hear a strong sense of sappiness to Price's voice as he closed the phone. 

It took about 3 days for Price to make his way over to y/n apartment and to say he got a warm welcome would be an understatement. The ex-captain hadn't actually told his lover about the retirement or his planned arrival so the other man was completely surprised, but overjoyed. It had taken years but they were finally here together again. Holding back felt unnecessary, they kissed right in the doorway as they clutched at each others bodies. The sensation made everything so much more real and they likely would've stood there for way longer if Lucy hadn't poked her nose into them. Price was was thrilled to finally see the big mutt in person and she took a quick shine to him.

-

Within a couple weeks later Price had tried to settle in but it wasn't working. The apartment was just too damn small especially with two grown men and a giant dog in it. Lucy often had to be taken out to the local dog park for exercise and Ying came in to visit from time to time which only cramped the space more. It was practically inevitable that they were going to search for a bigger home so they eventually started a search. Originally they looked into more apartments, but just one peek at their current set up (and into Lucy's big brown eyes) they knew they needed something much bigger.

 The search took a while but they eventually settled on simple cabin with a good two acres. It was remote enough that they didn't have neighbors, but also close enough to civilization that they could keep in touch with Ying. Plus there was a lake not too far from it which made for a great fishing spot. Price did most of the packing but they didn't have too many items anyways so one small u-haul was all they needed.

The cabin had a strong musky scent from the wood, the floorboards would creek with each, and the whole place was perfect. Settling into this was much easier, something about it just felt natural. Maybe it was the amount of room, maybe it was the peaceful location, or maybe it was they were together. Whatever the reason, Price felt he had made the right choice. 

-

Come half a year later, they've accumulated a few things to decorate their house, had their fair share of fishing days out by the lake, and maybe made a good couple of messes or two. Ying was an active visitor and even brought her husband along with her from time to time. Seeing her car pull up into the driveway was a common sight but this time she walked with a nervous excitement which was practically suffocating. Y/n let her in and she asked if she could have a talk with him. The two went over to the couch to chat as Price went into the kitchen to make a quick coffee. He could hear a series of spikes in tone, serious, excited, antsy, all forming together until he finally popped into the room to see a smile on his love and his cousins face.

Ying was pregnant with her first child and wanted to know if they could be the godfathers.

[apatheticlexicographer]

inspired by this wonderful post by @wibble-wobbegong , riffing off what i said in my reblog but in longer form lol.

basically what they were saying centred around the idea of there being "unnatural" powers, which have been intentionally induced in a subject to resemble pre-existing powers (all of the numbers, with their powers that are based on parts of henry's ability set) and "natural" powers, which occur spontaneously and present themselves in a unique manner (henry and in the case of this theory, will.)

hawkins is the weak spot between our world and the upside down. some people seem to think the upside down exists only within the limits of hawkins while others think it's just the crossing point. regardless, the thin barrier between the worlds there is the reason why every organization attempting to breach the border has come to hawkins to do so.

what i find interesting is that out of every known character with powers, none were born in hawkins. none, except will, who does have at least one canonical ability in his true sight. the only possible exception to this is el: i don't know if she was born in the hospital part of hawkins lab or if she was born elsewhere and then taken there. if she was born there it might account for why her powers are abnormally strong despite being "unnatural."

we don't know when henry's powers first manifested themselves, or how they were affected by his move to hawkins, but considering his shift in behaviour coupled with the way will is able to feel things more strongly when in the hawkins area it's safe to assume his powers were somehow elevated from the relocation, if not that his move to hawkins was what caused them to appear.

so just think about will. will, who was born and raised in hawkins, who in this theory has "natural" powers. abilities do seem to strengthen with age, but imagine will as a tiny child too small to be taught how to manage his abilities, growing up right on the cusp of the burgeoning rift between dimensions.

one thing they mentioned and that i strongly agree with is the thought that perhaps will was taken to the lab as a child, by lonnie. he saw that there was something unnatural about his son, and we know that he's a christian. maybe he thought will was gay, maybe he thought he was a demon. regardless, he decided to take will to the nearby lab that doubled as a children's hospital to get him "fixed."

the lab didn't know how to deal with him: his "natural" powers were unlike those of the numbers, and they couldn't get away with simply taking him when he was located so close to their base of operations. they did have one temporary solution, though, that could be implemented until he was old enough to be persuaded to the lab for testing. or, if his parents weren't agreeable, old enough for an accident to be quietly arranged.

the soteria chip. they already knew it worked to suppress "natural" powers, as proven when they implanted one in henry. under brenner's direction they gave baby will one of these chips and sent him on his way, but made sure to keep tabs on him. that's why they had the dummy of will so easily ready: powers seem to manifest themselves in a stronger way the older the child becomes. will was probably just getting to the age where he would need to be dealt with in one way or another when eleven first made contact with the demogorgon and reopened the gate.

i've always thought that will having a chip would make sense with how much the show draws attention to him touching his neck, but could never get behind him being a number, or joyce bringing him to the lab, or it being implanted while owens was directing the lab. this theory is the only situation where i could envisage the setup for it.

imagine: will has been vecaned and henry is monologuing like usual. "there's something wrong with you, will byers, something that sets you apart from everyone else. you do your best to ignore it, but you've always felt it, haven't you? your father could sense it, too." the audience thinks it's about will being gay. shit, maybe even will thinks it's about him being gay. it's not, though, it's about his powers.

[ichcrblood]

( lucas jade zumann +  eighteen  +  he + him  )  look who has entered camp halfblood college !  meet NICO DI ANGELO ,  the child of HADES .  they have been living in long island for two years and are currently studying history. when someone describes them, they are often described as LOYAL and MISTRUSTFUL. zeus believes he is responsible for stealing the lightning bolt but is that something they are capable of doing?

BASICS.

full name: niccolò di angelo nicknames: nico age: 18 years old   gender: cis man pronouns: he/him orientation: gay (closeted) godly parent: hades powers: geokinesis, necromancy, osteokinesis, umbrakinesis, phobikinesis (limited), thermokinesis (limited) fatal flaw: holding grudges status: alive

BIO.

(tw for mentions of parental death, internalized homophobia)

you don't remember much of anything from Before. you were too young, you guess. but you remember the lawyers. the first one came when you were little, told the two of you your parents had died and you'd be going off to a boarding school. you remember liking the boarding school, even if the boys were...a bit tense. you almost don't even notice, but it creeps up. it's like they know before you do, something about you doesn't line up with them. you don't dwell on it. you can't. maybe a small part of you knows, but you can't conjure up how. it's behind that block, you think. trying to remember your parents brings up nothingness. there's no telling what else is back there.

from the boarding school, you and bianca are brought to...a casino. but it's not like the sort of places people wag their fingers and mutter about. this place is full of kids, some your age, but most of them older. there's some adults, sure, but they don't pay the two of you much mind. you're in there a while, about a month you think. someone comes to collect the two of you, and from there you go to military school. it's...much more structured. you're not sure if you like it all that much. everyone around you is strange, from the way they dress and talk to the references they make.

you're not there long. a year, barely, and then things start happening. things are following you, watching you both. and then they're attacking you. and the lawyers are back. not that they ever really left. they stopped by every now and then when you were at westover, and again after bianca graduated. it seemed like they just always knew. then they're ushering you into a car, telling you it has something to do with the trust and your parents' will and a place and-- you don't keep up, honestly. they bring you both to-- to a college, which worries you. you're only sixteen. you're nowhere near graduating from westover yet, which means bianca is going off by herself, which means you'll be alone too with these whatever the hell they are probably still coming after you and you don't know how often she'll be able to call and the two of you have only had each other since you were kids how are you supposed to--

exceptions are made. whispers are exchanged. and you're told, ultimately, you're staying too. you're sat down for orientation, and that's when it's dropped on you. the whole thing. you're both...demigods. so your dad is a god. or your mom? you can't remember. would you even know? the lawyer is long gone, and it takes, like, a couple of hours after orientation. the claiming is freaky, even you have to admit that, and you're both ushered into the hades cabin. you meet a few other siblings --your dad's one of the Big Three, which you learned means there shouldn't be a bunch of your half siblings running around-- and...well, you've never had this much family before. you don't really know what to do with it.

some aspects are more complicated than others. after everything, the truth about the casino seems so small in comparison. after finding out you're half god, the place you thought you only spent a month might as well be a liminal space you actually spent 70 years in. sure. that only freaked you out for, like, a couple of weeks. no, there's more you learn, more you grapple with, and some of it, like your powers, become a part of you slowly but surely, and other things you hold close to your chest, and you don't talk about it. actually, you're probably content to never talk about it. like, ever.

[honoringthehorrific]

I watched X (2022) after Pearl (2022) and here's what I thought...

Lord have mercy it's been a while hasn't it? Lets churn out one for the new year! As always: Spoilers under the cut! <3

I'm gonna do this one differently than my usual reviews since I haven't seen the movie in a while, instead of my typical play by play I'm gonna just tell you what I thought and talk about specific scenes. Now, I know this movie was the first in the series, but I was more drawn to the look of the prequel, and I hadn't heard much promo for this movie until my dad watched it alone and boasted to me about it being one of the most fucked movies he's ever seen and I knew I had to watch it. I will say if you're going into this movie expecting some super disturbing gore-fest...Prepare to be disappointed. Don't get me wrong AT ALL the blood and effects are beautiful and i thought the amount of violence was perfect. However don't be fooled. Anyone who says this movie is gross or disturbing or fucked up may just be echoing the point the movie is trying to make.

This movie is about getting older, its about sex and porno and being free but I genuinely think the main focus is getting older.

When we meet pearl she sees herself reflected in Maxine and that's made painfully clear by the choice to cast Mia Goth as BOTH Pearl and Maxine. Pearl consistently watches Maxine almost out of jealousy but I would even argue out of mourning...She's seeing this girl come to her home, This beautiful girl who looks just like her when she was her age, making those movies the projectionist showed her when she was younger. Seeing this girl with a boyfriend who wants to make her a star, with friends...I imagine its painful to a degree...

Pearl repeatedly expresses sexual desires she still has but can't act on them because she's too old...Harold's heart can't take the strain sex would put on it and she has no other outlets as the young adults are either disgusted with her and reject her advances (RJ and Max) or treat her as if she's a child. (Bobby Lynne) I loved these characters so much. While it pays homage to one of my all time favorite slashers, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, It isn't like your typical slasher. These kids are lovable. These kids you want to see make it...Except maybe Wayne. You get snippets of their personalities and their motives as time goes on: Bobby Lynne wants to be a star like the other girls but also she thought about becoming a nurse because her nanna used to get confused. Jackson is a Vietnam vet who actually shows Howard immense respect unlike the typical rude kid persona we see in movies like these. RJ wants to make serious movies and is a cinema buff but he also cares a lot about his girlfriend Lorraine. Lorraine, while being the typical "pure" virgin character, also wants to join in and experience something new. Maxine came from an Evangelical christian household and seems to be escaping that constricting life with Wayne. One thing that I think is incredibly sad is when people mention how "fucked up" this movie is, the focus seems to center not on the gore or effects but...on the fact that it displays the elderly in a sexual light and wanting to still have sex. It's interesting because even in the movie, despite certain characters discounting the elderly couple (Wayne mentions something a long the lines of Harold forgetting how to use his dick) there is this scene where Bobby-Lynne is explaining things to Lorraine, and it's not a main focus in her statement, but she says that in the sex industry nothing matters, gay, straight, your race, or your age. I think we have a really idealized version of MILFs and Cougars, Older women with sexual desires, when we forget that often those "Older women" can look like pearl...

I thought the underlying message of even the elderly can want love and sex was sort of romantic and beautiful? I wish more people picked up on it and I'm certain I'm not the only one who did. It's just strange talking to anyone i know in person who saw this movie talk about it like it's so nasty and grotesque when it seems like the gore is somewhat minimal compared to the typical slashers I know these people watch? Now that's not to discount the effects AT ALL I loved what we did see when we saw it, RJ's blood spatter on the headlights, Wayne getting his eyeballs gouged out (that one actually made me cringe in my seat!) All of these were done pretty well while at the same time having this sort of....at home feel? I'm really not ragging on them i love practical effects and i don't know how much of this was practical but some of the effects feel like someone did it by hand, It felt akin to watching a movie from the 80s vs one modernly. Which honestly could have been the feel that they were going for.

The ending was sooo good too. I loved finding out that Maxine had some sort of tie back to this TV preacher we keep seeing. I loved the scene where she repeats him and you can hear on the TV him speak before her, "Say it with me now!" The one thing I don't like is how pearl turns on her at the end? Calling her a whore and what not however, I don't think this is out of character for pearl, she has a lot of outbursts like this in her prequel movie, the one that i can think of mainly is the scarecrow scene if you've seen Pearl (P.S. if you haven't oh my god?? go watch it?? even if you hated X I think Pearl is a reaaaally good stand alone film!) I do think it was fitting even if i didn't particularly like it. The end where Max drives off, hitting pearl on the way seems soooo fitting too. The comparison of pearl and max through the movie, their confrontation at the end where max wins and hits her with the truck after she falls and breaks her hip...It feels fitting maybe because of how the elderly and the young butt heads...Maybe how the young typically come out the end because the elderly pass away...I don't know maybe I'm reaching too far on this one. Over all a pretty good movie, I'd give it a 7/10 just because it seems like for how people hyped it up and the trailers hyped it up the gore and story elements just didn't scream at me that this was a fucked up movie. It definitely feels like a weaker movie compared to pearl, pearl worked so good as a stand alone film and I feel like X had potential to be that good? I think this was still a very good movie! I recommend it :) --- Post Notes: I'm sorry this one took so long. It's been a while since I actually watched X and I was really worried about this review not being as solid or as consistent as my pearl one. I think it's still all over the place but I wanted to give you guys this because i think there's at least a handful of people that I've kept waiting on this :) If I missed anything and you wanna pick my brain on it I'll respond to any asks or any replies (Note replies are gonna get responses from my main account @playboycreature cause this is a side blog)

[youngsadlesbian]

Hi I was wondering if you can make a Marlene fic where reader is like scared? To be a lesbian/like girls cuz her family and friends doesn’t approve of that kinda stuff so she does whatever to pretend she doesn’t like Marlene more then a friend like going on dates with boys etc?

This is kinda based off that song “Good luck, babe!” by Chappell Roan

Feel free to ignore this btw <3

EMBRACE — marlene mckinnon.

pairing: marlene mckinnon x reader

summary: you've been in love with marlene since your first year at hogwarts, but there are two problems: she doesn't know, and you're not very accepting of the idea of liking girls.

a/n: this is my first request and i'm so excited, yay!!! i think i managed to bring most of what you asked for. since there wasn't anything specific about a sad or happy ending, i decided to have marlene and reader end up together, because enough with sad gays in the world!!! hope you like it.

word count: 2,5k

warnings: internal homophobia, homophobic parents, angst with a happy ending, and supportive friends <3

Your biggest secret was also your greatest pain. You don't know exactly when you discovered you liked girls. Maybe when your kindergarten friends talked about marrying a handsome and wealthy man, and you couldn't picture yourself in that scenario. Or perhaps, when you paid more attention to older girls than to boys. Anyway, you just had the feeling it was something you always knew.

Just as you quickly discovered that this wouldn't be something your parents would tolerate.

During a trip to London, there was a couple of two young girls holding hands. It would have been ordinary if they hadn't kissed.

Your mother immediately scowled and made sure to change the path, but not before muttering a complaint.

"That's the greatest shame for a mother. Thank God my girls are being raised the right way."

Your father agreed, while you were sandwiched between your two older sisters, trying to process all the information.

Years passed, and before you turned eleven, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore knocked on your door, saying something very improbable: you were a witch and had a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Your parents didn't understand at first. You came from a very traditional Muggle family, and at first, they thought the old man was crazy. But with a few light demonstrations of his magic and a long conversation, it didn't take long for Dumbledore to convince your parents that attending Hogwarts was a great idea.

He sent a Hogwarts staff member to help them buy all your supplies in Diagon Alley. And then, on September 1st, you boarded the Hogwarts Express.

You shared a compartment with six children: Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, James Potter, Severus Snape, and Lily Evans. Each one had a distinct personality, and specifically, James was very annoying in his attempts to tease Severus to impress Lily.

Lily was Muggle-born just like you, which led to a friendship blossoming from the first moment. You talked about books, movies, and even discovered that you had attended the same school for some time. You adored her.

Except for Severus, all of you were sorted into Gryffindor, which was a relief. Usually, you didn't fit in easily in new places, but apparently, Hogwarts was bringing out the best in you.

It was on your second day that you met her. Marlene McKinnon, a Gryffindor student like you. She was beautiful. Her blonde hair and strong personality captivated you from the first glance. But you knew that could never happen and made sure to mask all the feelings that might arise.

It was harder than you thought. Marlene's mere presence in the same room as you was magnetic; you simply couldn't avoid looking at her. If she wore her hair differently, you would clearly notice and make a compliment here and there, trying to keep it as platonic as possible.

As the years went by, you devised other strategies. Having a few boyfriends seemed to work only to maintain your clean image, but never to erase your feelings. You knew it wasn't normal to like girls, and by Merlin, it was horrible to fight against it daily.

Your sixth year at Hogwarts arrived, and you thought things would be easier. You had lost count of how many boyfriends you had and of all the times you had to swallow hard noticing that Marlene seemed to follow the same path as you.

But with girls.

Your jealousy seeing her so close to Dorcas Meadowes didn't go unnoticed by your closest friends; Lily and Remus.

You were gathered in the library, finishing your Defense Against the Dark Arts homework while Marlene was talking too close to Dorcas. You didn't even realize you were gripping your quill too tightly until the sound of it snapping in half and Remus' laughter brought you out of the trance.

"Hey, take it easy, Y/N/N." Remus waved his wand and muttered 'Reparo', fixing it. "That's better."

"Thanks." You took a deep breath, noticing Marlene approaching. Standing up abruptly, you grabbed your books. "I need to go. Bye, Moony. Bye, Lilbee."

"But you..." Lily didn't finish her sentence because you were already far away.

It wasn't the first time she noticed how you looked at Marlene, but at first, Lily imagined it was something platonic. You were a very affectionate friend who handed out compliments left and right. But looking at it differently, you always seemed to have a bit more care when around Marlene. You were friends, but you always held back with her. With Lily, you were... you.

"You know, Lily..." Remus began, putting his inkwell into his bag. "I think Y/N has something with Marlene."

Lily looked at him, confused. "Like a secret relationship?"

Remus laughed and shook his head. "More like... I think Y/N likes Marlene."

Lily wasn't going to have this discussion with Remus, even though she had also thought of that possibility. If you had never talked about it, it was probably because you weren't ready and didn't feel comfortable.

It didn't take long for your worst nightmare to become reality. You always thought you hid things well, and by choosing the right boys to date, no one would ever suspect it was all a facade. Lily started having strange conversations, talking too much about Marlene and the possibility that she was in a serious relationship with Dorcas.

Your heart broke every time she mentioned it. But you truly thought she didn't notice your expression turning sadder each time the subject came up.

One day, Lily got tired of it. You were sitting by the Black Lake, making sparks come out of your wands when she finally decided to voice her suspicions for the first time. "Do you like Marlene?"

You froze. Trying not to stammer, you replied, "Of course I do. She's my friend."

"That's not what I'm referring to." Lily had never seen you wilt so quickly with something, just as she had never seen you cry in your life. She was scared because she didn't intend to break you with a simple question. Apparently, this was something you didn't handle well. "You don't have to say it if you don't want to. But know that I won't judge you, okay?"

You nodded and sniffled. "Since the first year," you began to speak, and Lily didn't interrupt. "I've always found her very interesting, you know? All the attitude and everything. But she's a girl, and that's not right."

"Not right because someone told you so?" You loved Lily for always knowing exactly what was going on without you having to say it, but in this situation, you hated her for making you realize that this was something put by your parents in your head. "If you don't have support at home, know that with me, with all of us, you do."

Lily hugged you, and for the first time, you didn't feel abnormal for liking girls. You embraced it with all your heart and saw beyond what you had always been told.

There's nothing wrong with that.

Breaking old internal prejudices was very difficult. As much as there was support from Lily and Remus – who, for some reason, decided to have the same conversation with you the next day – there was also a part of you that didn't have the courage to put it out there.

Then came the fateful party where everything changed.

Gryffindor had won the third consecutive Quidditch game, and it was reason enough for a big celebration. Students from other houses sneaked in during the night to the Gryffindor common room for a Marauders-style party: packed with Muggle music and magical drinks.

You were in your usual corner, talking to Sirius when Marlene arrived. She looked stunning. The leather jacket and the red Queen shirt contrasted with her striking blonde hair that only seemed to suit her. You sighed, and it was as if the world stopped.

After about five cups of firewhisky and butterbeer, you were drunker than you had planned. Drunk enough to have an endless conversation with Marlene.

She noticed that you seemed more open and comfortable than in all the years she had known you, cracking jokes, and she could even swear you were flirting with her.

You. The most straight and boy-crazy witch at Hogwarts.

Marlene had always noticed you a lot, and why not? You were beautiful. It wasn't a common British beauty, nor one usually seen in the magical world. They were features and particularities that were only beautiful because they were on you. For some years, she had a huge crush on you, dormant after realizing you would never look at her that way.

Everything changed when Marlene gathered the courage and asked you to dance to a slow song. Your sober version would never have accepted. Proximity meant you would probably do something you didn't want to.

Almost at the end of the song, Marlene leaned in and whispered in your ear, "I've really enjoyed getting to know your full version today, Y/N."

You were speechless and just smiled in the way you only did for her. And the world seemed to stop when you realized you could never deceive yourself about the truth.

You were truly in love with Marlene McKinnon.

The next day, you wished you had woken up with alcohol-induced amnesia to avoid dealing with all your problems. But remembering the words of acceptance from Remus and Lily gave you a strength you had never had.

You decided to tell your friends.

More animated than usual, you made your way to the Great Hall for breakfast, sitting in the same place since the first day: next to Lily, across from James.

The group found your excitement strange for two reasons.

You weren't a morning person, and you should have had a monstrous hangover.

"I want to tell you something." You looked at Lily. The young witch's green eyes lit up in understanding, and she squeezed your hand under the table.

Sirius, always the icebreaker, interrupted you before you could speak. "You're not pregnant, are you?"

Laughing, you shook your head. "No, Padfoot. Actually, I want to ask you all something."

James, the most impatient of all, practically shouted, "Just say it!"

You took a deep breath, and Lily's grip on your hand tightened. If the others said anything negative, at least you would have her support. It was better than nothing, right?

You stirred your oatmeal and avoided looking at the boys. "What do you all think about girls who like girls?"

The silence from the four of them was deafening. You instantly regretted asking and were about to dramatically get up and hide in the dormitory until the next year. Then Sirius broke the silence.

"I think it's as normal as girls who like boys." Sirius was one of your favorites for his sensitivity, only shown to those he truly cared about. "Do you like girls, Y/N/N?"

Your silence was answer enough. Peter, who usually didn't offer many opinions, decided to speak up too.

"I don't have any problem with it. It's a part of who you are, and of course, we don't choose who we fall in love with." You truly adored Peter and how he always said the right things.

"Is it Marlene you like?" James's question made you choke on your oatmeal. He laughed so loudly he received dirty looks from the Hufflepuff students. Your face turned scarlet, and that seemed to amuse him even more. "Of course, it is."

"You guys really have no problem with this?"

Remus then said something you would never forget.

"We don't have a problem with it because it's not a problem. This is you, and we embrace that because we truly love you as friends. There's no shame in loving someone, whoever they are."

"Except if you confess you love Snivellus. Then we will have a problem." Sirius drew a genuine laugh from you. "Tell her how you feel, Y/N/N."

And you really wanted to. But it seemed more difficult than confessing your biggest secret to your best friends.

You really tried. There was a day when you were making a potion, and you simply couldn't stop looking at Marlene. Her concentration, the way her hair fell over her shoulder, everything about her was mesmerizing. You almost confessed right then, but a group of Slytherins interrupted, breaking the moment.

Another time, you were sitting by the Black Lake, just the two of you. Marlene was talking about her plans for the future, and you were lost in the way her eyes sparkled with excitement. You wanted to tell her, but the words got stuck in your throat, and the moment passed.

Finally, one evening, as you were both studying late in the library, the silence was filled with a tension you couldn't ignore. You decided that you couldn't keep it in any longer.

"Marlene, I need to tell you something," you began, your heart pounding in your chest.

She looked up from her book, curiosity in her eyes. "What is it, Y/N?"

Taking a deep breath, you said, "I've liked you since the first year. I tried to hide it, but I can't anymore. I know it's not probably what you expect me to say, and I understand if you don't feel the same way, but I just needed to tell you."

Marlene's eyes widened, and for a moment, you thought you had made a huge mistake. But then, a smile spread across her face. "I've liked you too, Y/N. For a long time. I just never thought you'd feel the same."

Your heart soared, and you felt a wave of relief and joy wash over you. "So, what now?"

"How about we go on a date?" Marlene suggested, her smile widening.

You nodded, unable to contain your happiness. "I'd love that."

You went on your first date the following weekend. It was perfect – a trip to Hogsmeade, sharing butterbeer and laughter, and ending with a walk around the lake. You both felt the connection growing stronger, and it was everything you had hoped for.

Months passed, and you and Marlene grew closer. Your friends were supportive and happy for you, and for the first time, you felt truly accepted for who you were.

One night, there was another party in the Gryffindor common room. The Marauders had outdone themselves, and the room was filled with music, laughter, and dancing. You and Marlene were in the center of it all, enjoying each other's company.

As the night wore on, a slow song started playing. Marlene pulled you close, and you danced together, lost in your own world. You felt a surge of courage and decided it was time to take another step forward.

Leaning in, you whispered, "Marlene, I love you."

She looked into your eyes, a smile spreading across her face. "I love you too, Y/N."

Without hesitation, you closed the distance and kissed her. It was a gentle, sweet kiss, filled with all the emotions you had kept hidden for so long.

The common room fell silent, and when you pulled back, you saw your friends beaming with happiness. Lily and Remus gave you a thumbs-up, while Sirius and James clapped and cheered.

In that moment, you knew you had finally accepted yourself. You were happy, loved, and surrounded by friends who supported you. It was everything you had ever wanted, and more.

[somethingscft]

EZRA | PLAYLIST

FULL NAME ezra nathan graham BDAY  may 16 AGE 40 GENDER cis male SEXUALITY heteroflexible PRONOUNS he/him

APPEARANCE

HEIGHT 6'1"  BODY TYPE muscular PIERCINGS none TATTOOS two

tba

PERSONALITY

MOR. ALIGNMENT chaotic good MBTI enfj ZODIAC taurus

ezra graham is the ultimate southern gentleman, but he is far from traditional.  he's polite, caring, and outgoing, but ezra is very progressive socially and politically, and he could thank his adoptive father for that.  

being a homeless teen for three years also had a significant effect on ezra's personality.  he is extremely sympathetic to the financially unfortunate, willing to have almost anyone sleep under his roof.  he's selfless, for sure, to a point where he’s practically a pushover.  that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a backbone; ezra can get aggressive if you hurt the wrong person, particularly any of his employees who are mostly gay men and women.  ezra is extremely protective over them and other marginalized groups.  he's always trying to be the hero, and a lot of the time, he succeeds.

when it comes to relationships, ezra is at a total loss.  since his divorce, he's had girlfriends, but none of his relationships were significant to him.  they lacked meaning, and he often wondered why he couldn’t obtain a true and deep connection with anyone.  he started to think something was wrong with him, and for the past couple of years, ezra gave up on falling in love.  he is flirty, but it’s completely harmless most of the time; if he’s looking for anything, it’s a good time.

BACKSTORY

PLACE OF BIRTH tulsa, ok ETHNICITY african american

growing up in an oklahoman household with eight other siblings was tough for ezra graham. he was the second youngest of the brothers in their family, but he still managed to gain the approval of his rowdy older brothers with the help of his early blooming unlike the “baby” of the boys, wesley. following in the footsteps of his older brothers, ezra was an active participant in his community’s football team. as opposed to his eldest brothers, ezra always tried his best to include wesley in any of their activities whether it be football, going out to events, etc. he never wanted him to feel so…alone. regardless of ezra’s acts of inclusiveness, wesley still did not feel like he was a part of family, and ezra could sense it. he just felt like there wasn’t anything that could be done, with the exception of simply being there for his brother whenever he needed him. wesley was an outsider, and maybe it was by choice.

ezra felt helpless when it came to how wesley felt about being the youngest brother until their father decided to bring the whole family to dallas for a national football game when ezra was fifteen. wesley came to ezra with a plan to run away. at first, ezra was hesitant; he didn’t know how to survive out in the world on his own at such a young age, but he knew that this was what wesley really wanted. he couldn’t let his little brother go and run away by himself. reluctantly, ezra agreed, and the two brothers secretly backed one duffle bag each, filled with things they thought they’d need to survive. towards the end of the last quarter, ezra and wesley managed to sneak away from their family. ever since then, they were on their own. they only had each other. for two years, the two boys charmed their way into dozens of households of sympathetic mothers. eventually, they ended up in california, making their way across the southwest.

san francisco was a tougher place to find somewhere to sleep. they were in shelters for weeks until they came across a man by the name of charles jackson, an navy veteran who had recently lost his sixteen year old son in a drunken hit-and-run and his wife many years ago.  in addition to being a decorated navy vet, charlie was also a drag queen, and he owned his own gay bar in san francisco–aunt charlie’s lounge.  after stopping ezra and wesley from stealing at a grocery store, charlie took them in and eventually adopted them, treating the two boys as if they were his own children. it wasn’t easy being the son of a navy man, but it definitely beat being homeless. charlie basically forced the discipline and morals that he learned from being in the us navy down their throats, raising them to be fine men.

while wesley pursued a career in the navy, ezra stayed back in california and attended college as a business major on a partial athletic scholarship for football. some nights after school, ezra worked as a bartender at aunt charlie’s lounge, spending time with the drag queens and all the walks of life that stepped into that bar. when ezra was twenty-eight, charlie passed, laving aunt charlie’s lounge to his two sons, ezra and wesley. The two brothers currently own the gay bar together, though ezra is the only one working there every night.

since then, ezra's gotten married and divorced to his ex wife. he's also had four young children who he doesn’t see very often because he and his children’s mothers (2) don’t get along at all.  he has a set of twins, austin and addison, and one child, nicky, from his ex wife.  and an older son named cash from another woman -- a one night stand. he's also invested into other business ventures, like a brothel in las vegas and a local southern comfort restaurant.

[moorheadthanyoucanhandle]

R.I.P., R.P.

In the late '70s, when I was in high school, I saw a production of Kennedy's Children at the Penn State/Behrend theatre. After the show the playwright, a hippie longhair type in bib overalls named Robert Patrick...

...gave a Q&A about life in New York's Off-Off-Broadway Theatre scene, of which he was a co-founder; he wrote prolifically for Caffe Cino and LaMama and other celebrated venues of the period. Kennedy's Children was his most famous play, premiering in London before opening on Broadway in 1975, where it won a Tony for star Shirley Knight.

I was already something of a theatre geek, but Patrick's talk made a big impression on me about the possibilities for doing theatre outside the mainstream, even though I didn't have the nerve to ask him a single question. A few years later, in the '80s, I was assistant director of another production of Kennedy's Children, and also appeared in it.

Decades after that, in mid-2021, I connected with Robert over Facebook. He was in his '80s and lived in L.A., in poverty, I think, but also in seemingly immense good cheer, still socializing, still walking and photographing his neighborhood, still performing with underground groups...

...and most certainly still writing. He seemed to devote himself mostly to pouring out poetry--witty, urbane, sophisticated, classically learned, allusive, ruefully romantic, gloriously rhymed poetry, posting large amounts of it almost every day. Sometimes he would post five or six poems at once, under the heading "Who Left the Poet On?"

The best of this stuff was, to me, stirringly beautiful, but as far as I know he never submitted it for publication, though I doubt I was the only person who urged him to. He was probably right that his style was too out of fashion for most bigtime rags these days, but I hoped that maybe his illustrious status as both a New York icon and a gay icon might persuade some of the big mags to make an exception and publish some poetry that was actually, you know, good.

In any case, I regularly commented and messaged Robert in the most effusive manner--quite sincerely, mind you; he may have been my favorite living American poet. And then, alas, Sunday I was jolted to learn that he was no longer a living American poet. He had a date for coffee with a friend, and when he didn't show the friend had the police do a welfare check on his apartment. They found that he had died in his sleep, at 85.

I'm more rattled by this passing than I would have expected. I realized that I had, for the last couple of years, nursed the daydream that I would stage Kennedy's Children or one of his other plays here in the Valley somewhere, and bring him out here to soak up some well-earned adulation. Like so many projects I think of, I wish I'd jumped on it a little sooner.

I can't claim that I really knew him, of course, but I spent a long time last night going through the many lengthy online chats I was lucky enough to have with him, discussing everything from the poetry of Catullus to the Oscars. I sent him a few of my own poems, about which he invariably gushed and even kindly posted a couple of them on his own page.

The Thursday before Easter I sent him a poem of mine called "A Prayer for Maundy Thursday," and on April 12 he wrote back to say that he read it ten times and found it "...more frightening with each reading. What a brave poem." I'm choosing to take that as praise; in any case the idea that Robert Patrick saw fit to read anything by me once, let alone ten times, is quite an If My 18 Year Old Self Could See Me Now sort of moment.

He then asked me if I had ever heard the story that Dante's neighbors called him "the man who's been to Hell." I replied that I hadn't heard that, and he asked "Do you think Milton's neighbors whispered about his trip to Eden?" This was his last message to me; I messaged that maybe Milton's neighbors thought that's why he was blind, but he never replied.

R.I.P., and peace and joy eternal on your own travels sir. Thank you for the encouragement, the example and all that abundant, exquisite verse.

[bird-of-eternia]

Sylvia (Pt.5) Pariah

(Sylvia listens to a new album and Rose introduces her band)

Inspired by Dr Hooks Greatest Hits album and girls being gays.

In the dining room of a large brick home six people sat around a table. Four older people chattered on about complementary colors, flowers, were they sure that many people could fit in the church, and how many gifts could fit on the fold out tables? Two young people sat quietly observing and nodding along in agreement.

The wedding was in a week.

Sylvia sat quietly half listening to everyone chatter on. She hadn’t really been involved with the planning of the wedding. After Freddie had proposed, in front of the entire congregation, their mothers had been a joint force. They knew what colors would go well with Sylvia’s complexion and which flowers they could get at the local flower shop. The food would be takin care of pot-luck style of course and the dress...well there was no getting around it. She would wear her mothers wedding dress. The same one her grandmother had worn. It was itchy and covered every inch of her body. She hadn’t realized how sweaty the light material would make her. Or maybe it was nerves.

Freddie was ecstatic. He had already talked about how many kids he’d want, five, just like his parents. They would live with his parents until they found a nice place in town and the honey moon would be spent at the cottage. This time his parents would leave them be for the night. “I expect a handsome grandson next year!” Pastor Doyle had laughed heartily, Sylvia had gotten nauseas.

Freddie’s little sister Eliza came dashing into the dining room holding a small square case. 

“Honey, the grown ups are talking. Why don’t you go play?” The girls mother, Doreen, said the words like a robot. Likely, she had said them countless times before. Freddie saw the excited smile on her face waver and motioned for her to come over.

“What is it ‘Liza?” Freddie ruffled the girls red hair. She groaned, trying to fix her hair but the smile was never left.

“Cassie Fitch let me borrow her new CD!” Eliza shoved the case in Freddie’s face. “Look! Isn’t it that girl who Sylvie knew?” Eliza was beaming.

Sylvia’s heart lurched. She knew Rose had made some success in her music career. They had written each other haphazardly throughout the months she had been gone. One year and two months. In all that time Rose had written three times. Once to let Sylvia know she got to California safely, once telling her she had a band now, and once to say she’d met someone who agreed to be her agent. Sylvia had sent back her congratulations, told Rose about the engagement...but nothing since. It had been months. 

 She missed Rose so much. They would walk by her old house, now occupied by an old retired couple, and Sylvia would have flash backs of sneaking in at night. She would remember dancing with Rose in the kitchen while they made late night snacks, or giggling as Rose explained the deep meaning behind certain lyrics getting lost in her own head. She guessed Rose had been busy. Or more likely, wanted to forget this place ever existed, including Sylvia.

The CD cover art was of a giant yellow heart, in the middle stood a group of girls. They wore all black except the one on the left had red leather pants and some of the others were sprinkled with colorful accessories. Right in the middle of the group, standing tall with a little smirk on her face was Rose. She was wearing all black like the rest but had a chunky studded belt, a red bandana around her throat, and to pull the outfit together she wore a ratty looking jean jacket. She reminded Sylvia of Joan Jett. Her hair had grown long and was quaffed up out of her face, the sides shaved, showing her scalp. She looked good, more than good really. 

Something stirred inside of Sylvia. That familiar feeling.

Freddie chuckled and glanced at Sylvia, uncomfortable. 

“Oh I don’t know Eliza. Maybe it is.” He gently pushed the CD back towards his sister. “Why don’t you go show James huh? Not my type of music.” 

Eliza shrugged and ran off again. Freddie squeezed Sylvia’s hand under the table.

Sylvia focused on breathing normally.

.

Inside a dark venue a hurdle of people jumped and whooped to loud music. The mass of people shouted and danced around, not caring that they flung sweat on each other.

“Yes! Okay Los Angeles!!” The singer high fived the bass player next to her. “Thank you for coming out tonight!” She raised both fists to the air and roared as loud as she could. The crowd followed suit. The sound was like a drug, seeping into the girls skin and electrifying her blood. “I’m Rose!” The crowd screamed arms flailing wildly. “And give it up for the mother fuckin Thorns!” She stretched her arms to either side of her and turned around. The other girls in the band laughed each one acknowledging the crowd differently. Rose smirked as the bassist, Caroline, flipped the crowd a double bird and stuck out her tongue.

This is what Rose was meant for.

Not stuck in that town.

The thought bounced off of her. There was too much to be happy about tonight.

Hours after the performance Rose sat with her friends and a handful of groupies in their cramped LA apartment. They drank and laughed and came up with new ideas for songs. When the cacophony died down Rose could feel that heavy rock forming in her chest but then she would take a drink or someone would make a stupid joke and it was dissolve. Caroline complained about her boyfriend cheating on her again and August, the drummer, waggled her peach colored eyebrows.

“I can help you forget about him Carl.” 

Some girl sitting on the floor spit her drink across the floor, laughing.

Caroline shoved August from the edge of the couch and the room burst in to laughter.

“Ah man, that’s it, I’m beat.” August pulled herself up from the floor. She looked desperately at Caroline playfully pouting her lips. “It’ll be so cold all alone in my big bed.” Caroline rolled her eyes, they had been through the same act before. “One day Carl. One day you’ll come to your senses.” August turned holding on to the wall for support, making her way to bed. A few of the groupies tried pulling her back but she brushed them off stumbling down the hall.

“I should go talk to Pete then.” Caroline flipped her hair out of her face. “He’s in a right awful mood again.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t tried to cat-fish him again?” Bette, the other guitarist, said around a mouthful of cold pizza.

“I needed to make sure he wouldn’t cheat again.” Caroline said indignantly.

 Two legs appeared across Rose’s lap. She looked up, smirk on her drunk face.

“Hello there.” she raised her arms to let Maeve, the most constant groupie, get more comfortable. This happened more often than Rose thought it would. Male rock stars got plenty of groupies sure but she never expected she would get as many. Of course, these days people in California didn’t much care about that kind of thing. Her first day off the bus Rose had observed more than one same sex couple holding hands or kissing. If Sylvia could see...

There had been others. Many others, but Maeve was the most consistent.

Rose checked how much beer she had left, sloshed it around once, nodded, took the last swig and tossed it on the table. It clanked against the countless other bottles before rolling onto the floor.

“Well then..” She gripped Maeve’s chin bringing her closer.

.

Sylvia woke up with a giant headache. She hadn’t slept well after seeing Rose on the cover of that CD. Eliza had been in the front yard playing with her twin brother James when Sylvia asked to borrow it.

“Our little secret okay?” She winked. Eliza had been more than happy to lend her the music. Sylvia had listened to it all night on repeat. Rose’s soft voice soothing her into a soft relaxation and then yelling in the next song, angry and defiant. The most surprising song was titled Pariah. She didn’t want to full of herself and say it was about their relationship but it obviously was. It gave her an idea but it was ridiculous. 

~Pariah! Pariah! P-p-p-pariah! I’d rather be a pariah than a piranaaaah!!! Eating up the hopes and dreams of future generations! Fuckin bloody! I’ll love who I wanna do what I wanna and if you wanna come along baby buy a ticket!~~

Over the last year she had grown more and more angry with herself and the people around her. Irritable whenever some one made a gay joke or homophobic comment. Before it was normal, every day life, and she didn’t think twice about it. Now she found herself biting her tongue and clenching her fists more often than not. She began to loathe going to church, not because she had lost her faith but because the people around her started to change. They were becoming more judgmental and hateful than she remembered. In four days she would walk down the aisle and commit herself to a life of being a wife and mother and a part of that community.

~When the lights are low and your breath is loud, makes my blood boil. Yeah lets go now, some where we can become one. Dont worry about the eyes they’re full of lies, lies baby, lies.~

[reggieslocket]

prepare yourselves because i'm going to give you a bunch of reasons and hints that will show you the high chance of eddie being actually gay and him and steve becoming a thing >:)

1. "freak" as a queercoded word

let's start with the scene where dustin, robin, steve and max find eddie in the house where he was hiding and particularly on the dialogue between the five of them

there's this scene where eddie says something about how the people in town are getting ready to hunt him because they think he's guilty and he says "hunt the freak right?" and we see robin giving him an almost sad but understating look before replying "exactly" and i find it curios that they made her respond that out of everyone, i feel like it could be because she kind of relates to eddie's situation? she also would probably be considered a freak by people if they knew about her sexuality and that's why i believe the word has a queercoded meaning, if you think about it, "freak" was already used in the past seasons when bullies made fun of will, who also happens to be a queercoded character (even though we know he's coming out this season)

2. the handkerchief code

the handkerchief code gained popularity in the 70s and later on in the 80s and it was used especially by gay men to let others know their sexual preferences and fetishes. there were different and specific meanings depending on the color of your handkerchief and where you decided to put it (left pocket or right pocket)

now if you watch closely eddie can be seen wearing a black hanky in his left pocket throughout the seven episodes and of course these little details have their own meaning, in fact the black one was used to indicate S&M (sadomasochism) and as mentioned before the fact that it is placed in his left pocket isn't casual because that placement indicated that the person wearing it was a top (the dominant one in bed) while if you put it in your right pocket it meant you were a bottom (the submissive one)

this whole hanky thing made quite sense for me except for the fact that it was hard to believe that eddie is into sadomasochism but then rewatching the show a few days ago i noticed some handcuffs in his room and i found it weird because honestly what is a 20 year old man doing with those? he's not a cop or anything and so the fact that they are in his room is a bit strange for me... i just hope that the choice of making eddie wear the handkerchief isn't casual but a powerful move by the duffer brothers in order to hint at his sexuality

3. joe and joseph's interview

this interview really do be getting my hopes up. basically the interviewer asks joe what season one steve would think of his season four self and he replies with "surprised, approving... approval" WHILE looking and smiling at joseph who is also grinning, like there's no way they aren't hiding something and i hope it's the relationship between steve and eddie and steve's bisexuality. plus the fact that even maya is smiling while it seems like natalia is the only one able to be subtle about the whole thing lmao

then obviously there are steddie-antis saying that he would be approving of him and nancy getting back together but like... what should he be approving of? they were already a couple in season one so it wouldn't make much sense

4. gaten ships them as well

remember: if gaten ships it then it's canon

i love how the first couple that came to his mind is steddie and how proudly he says their names. he seemed so serious while saying it that it made me reflect on the fact that it's not that impossible seeing it happen and if not in season 4 maybe in season 5 since i read somewhere that luckily neither steve nor eddie are going to die in the last two episodes of this season (i don't know if it's true but let's hope so)

5. the chrissy-eddie thing

almost everyone who hates the fact that we headcanon eddie as gay will give the same explanation that he is clearly straight because he was flirting with chrissy and honestly i didn't see that as flirting at all, i just thought he was being really nice to her like he is to everyone. she was having a hard time and he was able to make her laugh and loosen up a little, i didn't find it as something romantic and furthermore who says that every interaction between a man a woman has to be romantic?

like friendship exists as well people?? and don't try and say "tHeRe cAn'T bE sO mAnY qUeEr cHaRaCtErS iN oNe sHoW, iT's nOt rEaLiStIc" like trust me it's more realistic having a group of only (or almost) queer people than one where everyone is straight and i know the show takes place in the 80s but gay people existed even then but they just couldn't openly say it so stfu

6. steve's attempts to find a girlfriend

we all know mama steve is trying his hardest to find a girlfriend but none of them really "suists" him right? what if eddie is the person that suits him? i mean it would be epic if he spent two seasons trying to find a girlfriend and then he ends up with a dude lol, i'd like to see bi steve happening so bad and i just know that robin would be super supportive of him and my boy dustin would be the happiest person on earth if his two dads got together

you can't tell me that they aren't developing a little crush on each other or that they don't care about each other, just look at eddie's face and his loving eyes in that scene and steve staring at eddie's lips for the whole time. i swear if they are really trying to get nancy and steve back together i'll start a riot because honestly they would be so forced, it wouldn't be good for both of their character development and also my boy jonathan doesn't deserve this, they made jancy dirty this season and i'm still pissed ugh

anyway if you read the whole thing ily and thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

[sjw-publishings]

Filtered Retropolitians

The Retro’ed Hetpression

—————————

A story based on @catolysttfs @catolystexponentiel recent Retro filter TF Comic over here: Applying the Retro Filter

Special thanks to him for allowing me to edit and use a part of his comic for the final TF picture!

—————————

“Hey Babe, got time for a Selfie?”

The blond smirked, placing his arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder.

Fred Mitchell was always the Gungho, idiot next door guy who you loved to be around with. Well…to be precise they are in his small apartment.

Living in a messy apartment, having an average build and grades in his Sociology course but who cares! He was living his best life, dressed in a slightly patterned tee, with an unbuttoned grey dress shirt on top as well as typical dark blue sweatpants and red sneakers.

Mismatched but so what? The dark-blond college senior could barely care less! He knew looked good! Without needing to step up his game for anyone or anything!

Just like his loving boyfriend.

“You mean Usie, babe?”

“Nah, you’ll get what I mean when you see this!”

Jonas Sanders was his match. A relaxed, chill hipster, yet was ever so passionate about democracy.

Leaning towards the left. The dude was a fighter against the greed of cooperations and capitalism. However, he knew how to make sensible arguments and not baseless accusations and objections without a solid foundation.

He fought for honestly, and dressed his truth. Not hiding anything, wearing a sky blue buttoned down. Rolled up sleeves and an unbuttoned top to show the muscle amidst his thick fat. A comfy, dark beanie matching his shoulder-length raven hair and luscious beard, as well as a pair of navy blue jeans and a belt, knowing he did not need to put in the effort to emphasise his large behind that his boyfriend loved to explore.

And vice versa.

“See! We look straight out of The Great Depression, Babe!”

Yep, that joke snags Fred a point!

Yeah, its always been a running joke on their campus, especially with that incredibly backwards state getting notoriety. Something about how several conservative cultures are spreading about in the nation for a while now…or has it always been that way for over a decade now?

Especially with how old fashioned this app was, took decades to activate…well actually 5 minutes, but that is like forever in this day and age! Not to mention how scary realistic the filter is, in terms of how both the hats and attire are fittingly layered on top of the two of them.

Heck! With how these , maybe this photo app is created by one of them!

But nah, Fred ain’t gonna fall for one of those conspiracy theories. And so what if the app promised a ‘photographed into the past’ experience literally? Sure life wasn’t as glamorous back then and probably was too straight for him and his boo.

But as long as Fred had his boyfriend Jonas by his side, he was certain he could handle the 1930s without a problem!

“Yeah, except I’m pretty sure back then gay people haven’t been invented yet!”

And once more, the scores for humour are even again.

Honestly, it was a no wonder why his relationship with his boyfriend went incredibly well for the last four years of college. Both him and his boyfriend were inseparable. Two halves, same humour, they were bound to be a lovable couple regardless of time-period.

Click!

And yet…as Jonas blinked, he noticed a split second change of the image reflected in the camera. The two ‘reflections’ of him and his boyfriend smirking, …far more ‘matured’ versions of the two, as a split between the two men.

They looked…incredibly different, almost conniving even. The type of men that would take anything, and everybody down just so they could be at the top.

A split second, to stop the reality they are about to-

“Ha-ha! Good one! Let’s see how we-“

“W-“

[ ///RETRORIZE!/// ]——

But it was simply too late.

Here comes a flash, and an overwhelming wave of monochrome coloration burst forth into the room. Engulfing the walls, sofa top, and the two photographed men in an old time rewind as the phone-machinery snapped open into two.

THUMP!

Falling onto the tabletop, as it sunk onto the furniture its glossy glass sheen, while surrounding the base with the metallic elements down to the legs. The electronic material left behind faded with its time, stretching forth uniformly into two identical, flat moulds which get-

-sliced-

Into thin strips of well laminated documents, the original and a signed copy of the endless terms and conditions of the new reality these men were about to find themselves in, as well as the nature of their relationship.

Setting the record straight.

Fred’s light brown eyes swarmed into a deep spiral, and likewise, Jonas’s emerald go-getter green pupils fell into the same fate. Both men still stunned by the…whatever they were doing just now. As they struggled to stay in their respective poses.

As an attempt to preserve whatever they had before their world becomes black and white.

But as the top of their attire materialises the beginnings of old fashioned office wear, as plain white collared buttoned downs promoted themselves like an executive, presenting these men with the direct dress codes they will never forget.

After all, the 1930s was one of the fiercest competitions for men, and neither of them wanted to be solely relying on the other.

And with that realisation, so did Fred feel uncomfortable holding onto the broad shoulders of his guy…without an ulterior motive, feeling the beginnings of facial hair twist his intentions of care and concern.

And with all due respect, there was much more reservation from our buddy Jonas, arms crossed tighter than a conservative in court, beard splitting with the considerations of fitting in with the men of his day and age.

Clothing taking on a darker hue than Fred’s grey, as both men with the upper parts of his suit and hat taking their respective colours. Hair trimming upwards in each passing second, as the takeover continued to the rest of their attire alongside the refurnishing of the room-THUMP.

Thump, THUMP!

Did the small apartment room re-built itself, sewing messy sheets and clothing into a huge rectangular collage, before engulfing the floor with a very expensive, Persian rug. The small, stained wooden bed elevated itself, becoming purely mahogany as it became a new office desk.

Many more shifts occured alongside the expanding of the room, with metallic cabinets filling up with numerous files and documents of unmentionable businesses behind the desk, fresh sleek office plants right at the entrance, large, well invested paintings filling up the walls of the business owner’s room.

And the cherry on top, the polished nameplate on top of Mr not-so idiot’s desk.

“Loook….?Uhhh….”

And of course, Fredin was intrigued.

His grip on his guyfriend’s shoulder loosened, struggling to stay connected to the other man as he craned his neck to glance at the credentials engraved on it…and by extension, the rest of the corporate space..

It was his office after all.

Straightening his posture, the man couldn’t help but grin at the time and effort put into designing it. All the hustle and convincing really did pull off? Didn’t it?

A part of the man tried to resist, but as the rest of his jacket blended one with the suit, the more he felt that it was necessary, especially at his time and age of the early thirties.

Growing independent was important, he wouldn’t want to rely on his guy-friend to do all of his funny business would he? He had to be in control, both in his appearance and where he worked at.

‘Always make sure to clean up the mess, see?’

A really accented echo blitzed through his skull, as a wave of grey sparked down his trousers. Tailoring longer it to the new business owner that owns them, crackling a size larger for those sneakers as they became smooth dark leather.

“W-Whaa…”

Meanwhile Jonase’s bottoms followed suit. Darker colours taking hold as his pants tightened stronger, fats ripening into muscle as they strained domineeringly as compared to the sleazy lankiness of the otha guy’s.

Of course, he had to be in charge of his life.

It was without question, putting his foot down, the hard clunks of his dress shoes dulled the atmosphere further. Straightening his tie, narrowing the reality and beliefs placed upon him.

It was so hard for him to resist, after all-he had a reputation to uphold, didn’t he? Which preventing him from fooling around in his duty…

Especially when he had such fine-lookin’, conservative co-workers.

“Argh…This Headache…”

Fredlin leaned over to his side, shifting away from any dependence on his companion. Clutching his temples, sorting out the endless details of schemes and conniving deals he would conjure in order to come out on top.

The fading part of them tried to rationalise between good and evil, but the rising formal part of him came in like a lawyer, decking a deceptive graph of profit after profit, wealth after wealth. The facial dusting of a sinister hair curl began to grow above his upper lip.

He could not help but smirk at that.

“Hold on…”

Following in suit, Jonase leaned over to the opposite end. Getting a grip on his noggin, as he felt the bristles of his prized beard clipping away like a grown husband on Sunday morning!

Or at least that was what he heard what some of his colleagues always rambled about. As he nodded, reluctantly…until he could recall those manicured fingers over his aftershave.

He grinned at that memory.

RRRRRRRRRRIP!

As the two men set their priorities ‘right’, the sounds of a shredding echo becoming two sleek, cushioned chairs. Pushing apart parallel as they faced one another across the table.

One for each men, their lips pursed as they tried to utter a syllable, a sign of recognising the other…to show how much their company meant to them-

“If only there’s fine women nearby..”

Fredklin initiated the remark. As his mouth could not help but contort to a twisted grin, rocking the hardest tent the late thirties business guy ever had in all his years of ‘entrepreneurship’.

But wait a sec? Wasn’t he into some…thing else more? Spotting the contract on the table, brainwashed eyes locking down on the numbered deposit stated in the paper.

Scanning up the freshly inked set of contracts, hands simultaneously kneading himself and twirling his moustache at the bold capital letters at the top.

-PARTNERSHIP AGREEMENT-

Partnership? With…this guy? But why? They were both men for Pete’s sake! And there’s no way he’s doing it with that stickler! Specially in the workplace…his office.

The more he tried digging in the confines of his mind however…the more such traces of guy on guy activity…fizzle out of his era. Coloured flags becoming the same dull American patriotism most men always had since he was working under his former Boss and mentor.

Of course, not sayin’ he stuck to the mold.

A sharp man like him ain’t a part of the crowd. They’re already proceeding to the mid 1900s! The ladies preferred some man slicker, more cunning as they ruled above the other guy in a contract, the man in charge and not his employee…

“I’m sorry Fella-”

Of course, Jonaseph’s southern roots kickin’ in, desperately trying to assist the otha guy with…some relationship issues, but from being grown from the county fair, raised and built up in the bustling city. He had been taught to be faithful to one woman only!

…No wait…that was not what he meant!

But as he tried sourcing his temples, the fine memories of going downtown with the farm with his gorgeous lady sent his attention flying away from da sleazy guy.

No…! Wasn’t he a ladies man? No! He was fine indeed~ Shaved with the trickles of aftershave around his cleft jaw, his gelled locks tucked underneath his Fedora like his bud across the table.

Heh, ‘bud’. A southern saying…as the residents of his town like to call em outsiders. But as for him, its reserved for those of em’ fellas that think they can outsmart em…

Right before realising they are in the rodeo…

“I’m already married.”

GRAB-

GRIP!

PUMP! PUMP! PUMP!

Stoking their sizzling Cigars, tight steely Rumps clenched shut in the absence of any foreign trade. Two men fervently gripped themselves hard, fully made aware of the nature of the contract…

Jonaseph thinkin’ about his beautiful wife at home and how he’s looking forward to raising his kids to further on the Smith legacy. A traditional American marriage, built from the foundations of his nation and political party.

It was another agreement, one in which he knew how to take charge by FORCE if he needed to!

Contract signed, No questions needed to be asked.

It made sense that an ultra conservative man like Jonaseph would already have a wife.

Besides, he was a dirty sleaze-bag after all, far from a model citizen like Mr right-winged conservative opposite him. Who cared if the other man stuck to a lady like WHATEVAH! The less competition for him, tha better.

Fredklin sheepishly grinned.

“Heh, you’re missing out, sucker.”

With that, the forty something year old lenses spiralled into a sinister glare. Welcoming all the various maidens flooding into his mind, luxurious hotel rooms, and outwitting his opponents by nefarious means.

Who cares about love when can earn a quick buck? Slouching, tipping his fedora down, trading kindness for an insatiable greed as corruption flows into his system, saliva like venom…words seeping silently into his adversaries like they’ve never known.

Sides, he knows how to be charitable…as long as it profits him of course.

“Tha masses will hear what they oughta hear!”

A faithful, traditional, conservative marriage. Lifting his shoulders upward, spreading his wide muscular back across the confines of the chair as he leaned back. Pumping away his tool that will produce generations…after generations.

A Proud American father, his eyes glimmered rock solid competition. Dedicated to being the top of his nation, his wealth, and his political party, a true All-American Meal…providing for his wife every night in bed…

Everything pushes him up further, no matter how deceptive the challenge may be…

“Try HARDER! Bud!”

“Get OUTPLAYED! Sucker!”

Churning hard, the two men yanked the brakes! Two men, such a bad influence on each other and yet…! AND YET!

They loved every second of it.

PSSSHHHHHHHH

PSSSHHHHHHHH

The two men blasted their barrels, full of grey selfish pride as waves of affirmation and prosperity poured onto their manly bodies.

Fishing out a quick handkerchief, the two business owners quickly wiped away their drool. Quickly extending out their arms for a handshake as though nothing personal has happened.

They were two men meeting for business after all.

“Ahem…as I was sayin Thank ya…”

A Quick cough, being a skilled ‘negotiator’ like himself, he never expected to be caught off-guard by another one of those ‘conservative cronies’ he’d meet on a weekly basis…

Its about time Mr Franklin Mason got some challenge. He definitely has to dedicate more of his personal time to this guy, and while he’ll miss having hot sessions every day…it will surely be worth the investment.

“No no, the pleasure’s all mine…”

Mr Joseph Smith, the poster American Man of his time, stumbled slightly…ever so faintly. He must have let his guard down when it came to the expensive cigars in the corner.

He was a Man for Smith’s sake! But MAN, was it thrilling to meet his match…corporation wise! Not that he will ever tell the otha’ guy of course…

“Thank you Mr Smith for signing the contract. With help from your Business, our profit-margin is sure to increase.”

That being said, something about Joseph Smith really gets him riled up…more so than those hot ‘chick flicks’ they started airing as of late.

Maybe he’ll be able to ride his arse and get to the top. He ought to be generous with tha’ guy, maybe even take him out for spin of drinks at the pub, just him and his charitable self.

He’s looking forward in corrupting that all-American family man…

“Of course. We look forward to corresponding more with you in the future, Mr Mason!”

Likewise for Mr Smith, most of his right-winged colleagues will be opposed to the idea of partnering anyone out of their inner circle, much less a notorious scammer.

But something about Franklin Mason really caught his eye…something exciting and exponential. Something that he’d probably tell no one, not even his wife about it.

He’s gonna have that scumbag all to himself.

But there certainly won’t be any ‘hand-holding’ aside from firm business handshakes, much less any ‘sweet talk’ between the two heterosexual men. What were they? A bunch of pansies?!

Rough, cold manliness, that’s more their cup of joe in the morning, and way late in the evening.

Ain’t letting the other outta their sights that’s for sure! From their workplace, to their hobbies and their women. With or without their permission…they will make sure to get their partner’s cooperation.

The competition is as good as smoked. Only be a matter of time till the Franklin and Joseph business duo end up in the big leagues. Controlling all the wealth and power and seizing a monopoly with them at the top.

The only question would be…whose gonna take charge and be leading their partnership.

Tightening their grip, the two businessmen narrowed their pupils as they starred into the other’s eyes. They could almost kiss the other, but alas its all ‘fair-game’ since the two of them are both men. And besides…

A sickening smirk over on the con-man.

An arrogant sneer over on the traditionalist.

Only one word had to be conveyed.

“Partner.”

FRANKLIN N JOSEPH INC. , A FEARSOME COLLABORATION -193X

[magniloquent-raven]

(pt1 here)

billy grew up afraid of finding his soulmate.

when he was eight his father caught him trying to wash nail polish off with soap and a hand towel.

he’d heard girls at school saying it was what you did when your soulmate was a boy. you were supposed to paint yourself up all pretty and find the person who matched. and it was easy enough to sneak into the vanity and steal a bottle of his mother’s nail polish. but once the paint dried he realized it would be impossible to hide from his father, and he panicked.

his mother showed him the bottle of nail polish remover after neil left. dabbed some on a cotton ball to rub at the thick layer of paint. she was silent, kneeling on the floor in front of him cradling his sprained wrist while he sat on the edge of the tub and cried.

they both had questions, but neither of them got answers.

it took billy months to work up the courage to try again.

he wasn’t sure why he was bothering, at first. he knew he couldn’t look for his soulmate the traditional way. and he was constantly terrified that his father would find the supplies he’d started hoarding. it seemed like more risk than reward, and yet. he couldn’t stop himself.

every time he was allowed to wander off in a store alone he’d slip something into his pocket. a tube of lip gloss. a compact full of shiny powders. he wasn’t even sure what some of it was, he just liked the colours. liked the pictures they hung alongside the displays. he wanted to look like that. beautiful.

and in his heart of hearts, he wanted the boy who was out there waiting for him to know he existed. whether they’d be able to find each other or not.

he’s more careful with this than he was with the nail polish. his father works saturday nights, and his mother always visits their neighbour while he’s at work. despite having the house to himself he locks his bedroom door.

the first thing he tries is the watermelon lip gloss. it’s sticky, and the wand doesn’t fit in his hand comfortably, but once he’s smeared it on he feels...good. he likes the way it catches the light. likes the way it smells. he looks at himself in the mirror and likes seeing something different.

the high doesn’t last long, it inevitably gives way to paranoia, anxiety that has him glancing at the locked door every thirty seconds, heart pounding, wondering if just maybe his father will get home from work early, and he jumps at every sound, hearing boots thudding on the porch and car doors slamming and anything that could be neil coming through the door.

cleaning himself up is hard. panic makes his hands shake, his eyes well up. he drops everything on the floor when he tries to tuck the bag away. and he has to spend twenty minutes with his back to his bedroom door getting his breathing under control when he’s finished.

but he does it again the following saturday. and the one after that.

for five months he does this. locks himself away with his stolen treasures and lets himself live a little. it gets easier as time goes on. and his mind wanders sometimes. to a future where he gets to share this with someone. the boy out there who’s supposed to love him one day.

it’s a small bubble of a dream. one he doesn’t spend too much time dwelling on. not when there’s neil’s voice in his head, telling him that no one could love a fucking freak, ‘cause fags don’t get real soulmates anyways.

he wants and he wishes, but the more he thinks about it the more he doubts. he’s never gotten a mark from his soulmate, and even if he did some day, what if his father’s right, and his “soulmate” doesn’t want him or makes him miserable or...worse.

so he does his makeup for himself.

until, like all good things in his life, his father ruins it.

he never found out what set neil off initially, something going wrong at work maybe, or the martial strife of the week getting to him. whatever it was that started it, neil eventually decided billy should bear the brunt of the fallout.

so he went through his things. said billy’d been acting cagey lately, and he was going to find out why.

and then found the makeup bag stuffed into an old sweater in his closet.

it was ugly. the things neil said that day would play on repeat in billy’s head for years afterwards. the scars his belt left on billy’s back were nothing in comparison.

the next saturday came and went. billy spent the evening curled up under a blanket not bothering to wipe away the tears dripping down his face.

by morning he’s resolved to forget the whole thing. to put it behind him. because it was stupid, and risky and childish and maybe his father was right. he’s almost convinced himself. and then he notices ink on his arm, as he reaches up to rub his eyes. messy scrawl, i bet you looked pretty crookedly written up his forearm.

he didn’t think he was able to cry any more, but he manages it.

for the first time his soulmate isn’t just a concept, or a what-if, he’s...a person. he’s a real person out there somewhere. someone who doesn’t even know billy and still wanted to reach out, to offer comfort. it’s more than he’s gotten from anyone else. even his mother. who he knows loves him, and she does her best to protect him, but when she found out about his makeup stash she just looked sad, and she’s said nothing to him about it.

but his soulmate…

can never, ever meet neil.

the thought hits him right in the chest.

whoever he is, he cares, he’s good. and neil breaks good things.

billy falls asleep that night tracing the empty space where his soulmate’s message used to be, wrapped up in worries and dreams, and terrified for someone he’s never met.

the doodles that come and go over the years are terrifying and exhilarating and billy manages to hide every single one from his father. they only ever show up during the day, and they don’t linger. something billy is both grateful for and resentful of.

sometimes he’ll watch other boys’ hands in class. check them for drawings. he thinks he’s being careful, but a girl in his chem class, becca, catches him. she says it’s only because she knew what to look for. they share a cigarette under the bleachers and she tells him about a girl who likes green eyeshadow and writes homework reminders on her wrists using stars instead of bullet points.

it takes billy six months and a couple shots of tequila to tell her about watermelon lip gloss and bet you’re pretty and they both cry when he starts to wonder if his soulmate will be disappointed that he isn’t a girl.

on a rainy april afternoon she asks him to go to a gay bar with her. he tells his father he’s going on a date. she tells her’s that she had to reschedule a tutoring session and it’ll run pretty late.

they wait til it’s dark and get ready in a dingy gas station bathroom. when she’s smearing on her eyeliner she catches sight of his face in the cloudy mirror. he wasn’t going to ask her for anything. he wouldn’t have brought it up. the twinge in his heart and a hollow feeling of longing aren’t anything new, he can deal.

he feels and empty kind of rage every time old, well-meaning relatives give max girly lip gloss kits and eyeshadow pallets and shit normal preteen girls who care about finding their soulmates actually appreciate. she always rolls her eyes and throws them away. susan will fish them out of the trash sometimes, and leave them under the bathroom sink, like if max just sees them there she’ll suddenly give a shit and start using them. like them being there does anything but taunt billy with what he can’t have.

neil watches him like a fucking hawk every time that shit comes into the house. and max doesn’t fucking care. doesn’t notice.

but becca offers.

and.

he’s not about to say no.

he should’ve said no.

it feels good at first, like it used to, it feels like freedom and he likes what he sees when he looks in the mirror, and he kisses a boy for the first time and it isn’t fireworks but it’s something, and he thinks maybe it’s going to be a good night, but then…

neil is waiting on the curb outside becca’s house. they were heading there first, because her parents wouldn’t notice, she said it would be fine, she has makeup remover he can use, he can clean up and head home and everything was supposed to be okay, except. it wasn’t.

it’s the last time he sees becca. neil tells her parents what was actually going on, and she isn’t allowed to visit him in the hospital.

and then six months of rehab, one rushed wedding and a big ugly sold sign later, neil carts them off to hawkins, indi-fucking-ana. as a “family.”

billy was certain this town would be nothing but a prison. it’d be somewhere he’d never find a place to be himself, neil would make sure of that. there wasn’t a single thing to like about this place and its bullshit small town sensibilities. for all the open space it might as well have been stone walls and steel bars.

except.

except...here was a boy with soft eyes and nimble fingers, who gets a little wrinkle between his brows when he concentrates, and is always moving, fidgeting, fiddling with zippers and touching his elbows and looking at him makes billy itch. to touch, to soothe, to take, and…

things get complicated when aimless blue waves scrawl up billy’s arm. when steve follows him out into the parking lot. calls him pretty to his face. and suddenly billy’s eight years old and realizing this shit is real. terrified of what that could mean. spinning fragile dreams like spider’s silk, hard to shake but easy to destroy.

even entertaining the idea of putting on makeup while he’s still in hawkins is stupid and dangerous, but goddamn if he hasn’t risked more for less.

he’s sure he’ll regret it. like he’s regretted every other desperate bid for freedom. but when faced with steve harrington’s smile, he can’t find it in himself to say no.

(edit: pt3 here)

[treesandtheirberries]

Dad!Harry talks to his daughter about her questioning sexuality

A/N: might make this into a blurb series? so presh. if you have any concepts around this, send them my way. 

wc: 2,249

June was Harry and Y/N’s first baby, their biggest accomplishment before they were soon having another child. June was currently 13, the awkward age of Middle School, puberty, and overall questioning of identity. Y/N and Harry wanted this weird stage to be a smooth transition. They always encouraged her to express herself, with clothes, in hobbies, with their conversations. Although their first child, they both felt as though they managed to get through the difficulties of becoming a parent easily (thanks to the massive amount of parenting books, from birth to adolescence, that Harry kept buying while June was still in the womb). 

Yet, there is only so much you can prepare your child for, and surely you can’t be there to guide them through every difficulty. Harry and Y/N weren’t sure if June would question her sexuality as both of them weren’t straight, they didn’t know if the process was the same for heterosexuals. But they never skirted around the topic. If anything, they encouraged watching same-sex couples in movies and such, even having many friends who had families with someone of the same gender (or a partner that was non-binary). 

Harry hoped that this would be an excellent way to acclimate their children to the varying diversity of the world. Y/N grew up with racial diversity, but anything deviant from heterosexuality or cisgender was heavily frowned upon. They hoped that with their lack of omission of the varying aspects of identity their children would have the opportunity to understand themselves easier rather than constantly question their identity. 

They forgot to take into account that this was simply a stage in adolescence they had to endure though, as Eric Erickson put it: a fight between identity and role confusion. And June was currently right at the center of it.

June, even as a child, was usually calm and they rarely had problems with her being fussy like they do with the twins, Mazzy and Mick (named after the artists constantly playing on their home turntable). Thus, any changes were quickly noticed in her behavior. 

-------

Picking up the kids from daycare and June from school was on the top of Y/N’s list of things to do for the day. She adored seeing everyone’s faces after a day at work and seeing their warm smiles and tight hugs always brightened her mood. 

Today, things seemed different. 

June jumped into the front seat with a grunt, a frown, and even went as far as throwing her bag onto the floor of the car forcefully. This was generally out of character, except Y/N and Harry have noticed these bursts of anger more recently. 

“What’s eating at ‘ya bug?” Y/N calmly asked, wanting to maintain a balance of emotions although knowing June was perhaps all over the place as most teenagers are. 

June rubbed her hands on the top of her thighs and noticeably took a few deep breaths; a calming tactic her father taught her when she was younger to calm herself. She took a few more breaths until facing her mother to talk. “Sage didn’t want to hang out this weekend,” she finishes, the frown being found on her face once again.

“Oh, is she busy? Thought you two were having a sleepover at home?” Y/N inquired. She knew Sage and her daughter were best friends since the beginning of sixth grade, and she hoped they would maintain their friendship although she knew the ups and downs adolescents faced it might not be possible.

“She said she’s going to the mall with Rye.”

“As in the bread?” Y/N chuckled, trying to lift the mood.

June rolled her eyes, another behavior that has risen in frequency. “No mom. A boy. That she likes.” She grumbled crossing her arms and sinking further into the seat.

“Oooooh I see what’s going on here, Sage is going on a date!” She rose her voice to a pitch of puppy love, which didn’t sit well with June. 

“We promised we wouldn’t date boys in Middle School. They’re all so stupid and ugly. I don’t get why she’s ditching me for him.” 

Y/N was a bit surprised by this. Harry and she have talked about the day they’d have to worry about June’s infatuation with others and they were dreading it. Hearing that June didn’t have interest in it now was a relief, but of course, this whole conversation was concerning. 

“I understand, not the nicest to make plans with someone when she already made some with you. But June-bug, you guys are teenagers. Of course, she’s going to take an opportunity to go on a date with a freaking boy!”

“Language momma!” Mick yelled, the three-year-olds’ well acquainted with naughty words.

“I guess. Just rude s’all.” June finished with another grumble. She wasn’t known for throwing huge fits, and her outbursts were usually this short. 

Still, Y/N knew that this would be something that would affect her for the rest of the week. Her daughter is calm but incredibly sensitive, and the two parents have learned how to work through her internal struggles. She decided to ask the usual question during June’s turmoils: “wanna talk to dad about it?” 

“Yes please.”

--------

Harry was finishing washing the plates as Y/N was getting the twins ready for bed. The small domestic moments like these reminded Harry of how lucky he was to have a family like his. He noticed June’s mood as soon as everyone entered the house, and once Y/N confirmed they would need to talk later, Harry was preparing himself to support his daughter through her problems. Y/N and he were definitely lucky with their firstborn being like June. Sometimes he’ll credit his efforts in teaching June meditation early, and depending on the day, Y/N agrees. 

As he dries the plates to put back in their cupboards, June walks in. 

“Hiya bug. C’mere give Poppa hug.”

June rolls her eyes (he’s having a hard time adjusting to these teenager habits) and walks closer to her father. Although she’s extremely close with both of her parents, there is a timeless connection she has with her father. “Not a child anymore dad. And please, do not call yourself poppa again. You’re not that old yet.” She mumbled in his chest, clearly needing the affection.

“Mom said you wanted to talk? Want her there?”

“Uhm. Maybe we could just talk in my room please.” 

“Of course, let me just put these plates all back” Harry smiled, only letting go of the hug once he felt June move away. A small trick he learned from his mother after she attacked him with countless parenting trips: never let go in a hug with your child, let them determine when the hug is over. It gives them more comfort and stability in their lives and although he saw this as minimal, he understood its significance.

“I’ll help.”

----

As they walked to June’s room, they caught Y/N walking back from the twins’ room. “Hey baby, twins are done for. I’ll be in the room. “ She pecks Harry quick on the lips and turns to June to wrap her in a hug. “Love you cutie,” she winks at June as she goes to her room.

“Love you momma” June smiles, happy that she has a supportive family like this one. 

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Harry smiles, his arm going back to June’s shoulders, giving it a squeeze. 

Once they get to her room, both take a seat on June’s bed. Her back is on the headboard while Harry sits at the edge facing her, cross-legged. Every once in a while June would request to speak to Harry, Y/N,  or both of her parents on the issues bothering her. Harry and Y/N were proud of having a daughter that felt comfortable enough to communicate with her parents, and they always were looking for new ways to enrich themselves with the issues kids have a different ages. 

“Speak to me June, what’s on your mind lady?” Harry starts, initiating the push. He can tell that she’s struggling to bring her thoughts to words.

“Did you....well. How did you ... realize you didn’t like ... uhm, just girls?” She hesitantly asked, too flustered to look at her father on such a strange topic. 

Oh, it’s happening, Harry thought. “Well, I was pretty young, I guess around your age, and I realized that I just wasn’t fully straight. It developed from there I guess, I talked to a few friends about it, spoke to your grandma, and eventually met a boy I really liked. It was really scary, I’m not going to lie, figuring out my feelings at that point. After that, it wasn’t a big deal and everyone in the family understood. I just knew something like gender wasn’t a big deal to me, and if I liked someone I liked them. But it’s different for everyone. Your mom can tell you how she found out she’s bi.”

June was soaking in the information her father gave her. She knew both of her parents weren’t straight, but hearing how they found it out was something entirely different. It wasn’t that she was foreign to the concept, but in personal terms, it was utterly confusing. 

She finally looked to her father, giving him a small smile at the personal information he shared. They were a very open family, but something about this felt even more personal. “But, did you ever think you were faking it?” 

“Not really, but you already know how pretentious your father is,” he chuckled, lighting the mood. “Your mother, as she’ll tell you, had a completely different experience. Said she struggled for years thinking she was either faking it or actually completely gay! She once told me that she just couldn’t disclose it with anyone, and that led her to a lot of contemplation. But if you’re feeling this way too, I need you to know your mother and I are here to support you in any way we can.”

“Dad,” June scrunched her eyes looking down at her crossed legs. “I think I might like girls. Or at least, I think. After Sage told me she’d ditched me I just realized I don’t like her just as a friend.” 

At this moment, tears began to form in her eyes from all the confusion. Instantly Harry brought her into aa encompassing bear hug, keeping her safe in his chest. It hurt him to see her going through this dilemma, the inter-workings of adolescents were never fun. 

“It’s just,” June suddenly choked on a sob, grasping her dad’s hoodie. Harry began to rub her back for support. “I like her I think. Like really like her dad. I don’t want her to date a boy, I want to date her. But she won’t like me and...I don’t know! Why did this have to happen to me!” She continued, clearly soaking his hoodie.

“Oh baby, please don’t ever think this is a bad thing. Sexuality is a spectrum, many of our friends are somewhere on it, and you already know Elizabeth and Mary are married. This is a beautiful thing to discover baby. But yes, I won’t lie to you, it’s going to be hard. There may be times you like someone who doesn’t like girls but bug, that’s simply life.”

“What if I am dad. I don’t know if I like boys at all.”

“Then you are. As simple as that. You can label how you feel or not, it’s all about what feels most comfortable to you. As you know, your mother and I will be here to support you in any way we can. If you like girls, so be it, you’re still our daughter and you know that. If you like boys, which I mean yuck,” he imitated a gagging noise, rising a laugh out of June “then okay. Both or everyone? It’s all okay bub. I do want you to think about it, It might take some time to accept it but we’re accepting you any way you are. You’re so beautiful and strong, and your sexuality doesn’t diminish that in any way.” He made sure to hug her tightly as he said this, expressing his full support. 

“Dad, thank you.” June exhaled, releasing herself to wipe her tears. 

“Of course, June. I’m so happy you were able to tell me this, I know it must’ve been hard.”

After a deep breath, June looked calmer after her small crisis. “I knew you guys would be okay with anything but it’s just, much harder than I expected to really like your friend who doesn’t like you.”

“It’s hard, so so hard. Ask your mum, seriously I swear she told me she also liked one of her friends at your age. Universal gay experience perhaps?” Harry pondered. 

June gave a small laugh to that. “Yeah, I’ll ask. I don’t want her to think I left her out of this, it’s just that I’ve heard about your sexuality in the media more.”

“Pesky things, but I understand. It was so hard for your mom in comparison to me. Do you want me to let her know first, is it okay that I let her know you might be questioning?” He gave her daughter a sincere inquisitive look, valuing consent over everything. 

“Yeah, of course. Probably talk to her tomorrow after we drop the twins off. I really appreciate it, dad.”

“No problem bug. Let’s get you tucked away.” 

__________ part 2

OH MY GOD this is my first I HOPE YOU LIKE. please any feedback would be so sexy. 

[raziroo]

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Lotor x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Saying "Shit" twice

Word count: 2,076 (yay) (also, I edited this, I still need to update the word count)

Author’s Note: I'm crap at writing dialogues, and this is my first time writing for a gay couple. I'm so sorry if it seems forced or unnatural or shitty. Don't be afraid to call me out.

Story Moodboard!

It’s with a grunt of effort that I manage to lift the carton containing the cotton-candy-maker.

‘Here, dad,’ I say as my dad takes the box from my hands. ‘That’s all?’

‘Yep, that’s all of it. We’ll conquer this carnival with our delicious cotton candy,’ I nod, doing jazz hands while saying the last part. Dad chuckles. I grin.

‘Hey, Honey!’ I turn back, squinting to spot where my other dad is in the crowd of bustling people. Where, where…? Yep, there he is – in his embarrassingly brilliant sunshine yellow and bottle green striped shirt and hot pink trousers, a sharp contrast to his natural bright red hair. Don’t say that it can’t look that bright; you’ll never know just how blindingly bright bottle green can really be until you see the shirt my dad’s wearing. And trust me, he usually dresses in simpler tones; such bland tones that you’d be surprised to know he was capable of wearing colourful hues as well. It’s only that he’s very passionate about his job, and so whenever we set up a booth in fetes such as the current one, he never misses to match the shop logo.

‘Hul-lo, father dearest, how seems to go your day?’

‘Oh, quite lovely, if I do say so.’

‘Well, that’s simply charming –’

‘Alright, enough,’ my other, not redhead dad snaps with an exasperated sort of smile on his visage. You see, my not redhead, a.k.a. brown-haired dad happens to be British. And that means that me and dad would rather paint our teeth blue than to not tease him. ‘You both need to shut it and start helping me with the decorations, now. You know I’m trash at all that.’

‘Aw, now don’t get discouraged,’ I say, patting dad on the back. ‘After all, not everyone can be as blessed as me, can they?’

‘Hey, why don’t you go look around for a bit? You’ve been helping out since before I have.’

‘Yeah, he’s right, pet. You should.’

I huff, rubbing my palms on the fabric of my jeans. ‘You guys sure? I’m not tired, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘We’re not worried, we’re just saying you should also get a look, you know? There’s a lot of surprising booths this time around. I mean, there are aliens participating too, so…’

‘Hmm,’ I play with my bottom lip a little, then, ‘yeah, okay. I’ll be back in like, an hour? Forty five minutes? Sound okay?’

‘Sounds great.’

‘Bye, then.’ And with that, I turn on the heels of my Converse, wandering about the pretty stalls and eager children and kissy couples and aliens with curious features.

It really feels bizarre, just how astonishingly fast mankind has accepted the existence of aliens. It seems simultaneously ages and just a day before when conspiracy theorists raged all around the world, presenting baseless theories and concepts as to why and how the three-man squad on the Kerberos mission disappeared. Then came the Galra, bringing along with them global terror – because alien life, intelligent alien life existed and humanity remained oblivious all these millennia, and now they were actually attacking us. It could’ve been, perhaps even was, in some other dimension, the end of Earth. But then a defender appeared; Voltron appeared in all its glory, bringing along with it proof that however much these purple aliens claim that humans are scum of the universe, humans were, in the grand scheme of things, the ones that saved the universe too.

It feels even more puzzling to actually be on a first-name basis with the leader of Voltron; that’s right, I’m personally acquainted with Keith Kogane. It was around six months after him leaving the Garrison did I come across him. He’d been loitering around the neighbourhood, had ended up in a fistfight with some other kids, and along with that a split lip and bruised cheek. I’d been watching. When the fight ended, I (somehow) persuaded him to come along so that I could at the very least provide him with a band-aid.

Long story short, we’d bonded over how our moms were no-shows and how dads were the best and we became surprisingly close friends; the only difference was that after the death of his old man, he lived alone. I’d been adopted by my two current fathers. I told him about how when they’d initially adopted me, I was excruciatingly shy. I wouldn’t even come out of my room except meals. It was only when I came to know that they knew how to make candy floss had I timidly approached them if I could have some, because previously I’d always been grossed out at the thought of having to eat that. I’d overheard this group of kids saying that cotton candy was actually just dyed granny hair, so that’s where that came from.

I love cotton candy now. So much so, that even at the age of twenty-six, I will pout if someone takes some of mine without my permission. As if I’d ever allow them to.

Speaking of Keith, I haven’t seen him in years. We lost all contact when he turned eighteen, and then he went off into space, and even when he came back, I didn’t get a chance to meet him. I bear no ill will, though. He must have formed some close relationships. Our past friendship is comparatively much more trivial.

I spot a booth selling grilled corn. I instantly head there.

As I’m about join the crowd of humans and aliens who also want corn, a familiar call of my name leads me to pull a three sixty.

Lo and behold. Keith Kogane.

Despite him having obviously grown a lot, the face was still the same. I’m sure that, if he gets a split lip and bruise on his cheek right now, he won’t look all that different.

There’s a questioning hesitance on his features; he’s probably wondering if he’s got the right person. My pleasantly surprised smile and raised eyebrows assure him. As I step away from the grilled corn stall, I notice a motley crowd behind him; some are purple, some are holding Voltron plushies, and some look way too curious to be in a carnival. The introduction is going to be fun.

‘Keith! You're gonna live a hundred years - I was just thinking about you. But anyways, it’s – it’s great to see you,’ I say with a little giggle. ‘Though I am kind of surprised you actually approached me. The sixteen-year-old you would never.’

He smiles awkwardly in return. ‘Y – yeah… I, just… oh God, this is – I’m sorry,’ he says, his inner turmoil evident.

‘It’s all good. I know you’re shit at small talk, so… like, introduce me? Maybe?’

He nods rapidly, brows furrowed. ‘Yeah, um,’ he turns to the people behind him, telling them my name, how we met, the whole affair. I give them a wave. Most of them greet me back.

‘And, this is Shiro and Curtis,’ he points to the tall, white-haired yet young man, holding hands with a tanner guy, ‘Lance, Pidge and Hunk,’ he points to a lanky, bright-smiled guy, a buffer, kind-seeming person, and a short chestnut-haired woman who, despite wearing baggy jeans and a baggier tee, looks somehow better dressed than me. ‘Then that’s Allura, Coran, and Romelle, they’re Alteans,’ a woman with enchanting beauty and a regal aura surrounding her, a redhead who’s significantly older than the rest with an impressive moustache, and a youthful appearing girl with a big grin, ‘and Lotor, he’s Galran. The Galran Emperor, in fact.’ Lotor is a tall, lilac-skinned man with aristocratic features who shares the same cheek markings as the Alteans. Oh, and he’s unfairly gorgeous, his hair a luscious mane of white which I just know will be soft. It’s hard not to stare. You remember how I said Allura looked like royalty? Yeah, the way this man carries himself, he has the aura and visage of a God. Even in a white tee-shirt and jeans he looks way better than should be legal.

I rip my eyes away.

‘So…are Noah and Oliver here too? I’d love to see them. I mean, I never did get to thank them to permit a possible criminal to sleep in their house.’

I laugh. ‘Never mind that, but we actually sit up a stall here. I could, you know, maybe even get you guys something to eat.’

‘Free? Please don’t.’

‘It’s nothing, really, just… I don’t know, accept it as a small thank you present for not letting the planet go to shit.’

A bit of thinking. Even after a nod from Shiro, it was Lance who said yes. Good ol’ Keith.

When we reach the stall, my British dad is the only one we find there. He looks up, about to say something to me, when he notices Keith.

‘Dad. You remember Keith?’

‘Your possible criminal friend who turned out to be the saviour of the universe Keith?’

‘That Keith. He wanted to see you.’

‘Oh? Well then,’ he dusts his hands, stands up, and greets Keith. Both of them engage in a conversation.

‘You guys wanna try something?’

‘What do you got?’ asks Pidge.

‘What do we got? Um, we got chocolates, candy, marshmallows, jellybeans, tortilla chips, ice cream, popcorn – butter, cheese, caramel, peri peri – Lays, like, a lot of Lays, and the good old cotton candy. What d’you want?’

So, after providing the humans with two Cream n’ Onion Lays, a pack of tortilla chips, a double scoop of butterscotch and chocolate, a small tub of popcorn, and three cotton candy sticks, I turned to the aliens.

‘I’m assuming you guys aren’t familiar with a lot of this stuff, so you could either pick whatever looks to be good, ask your friends, or I could recommend something. What’ll it be?’

Romelle was the one who asked, ‘What’s ice cream like?’

‘It’s sweet. It’s cold. And it’s like… heaven in mouth.’

‘Ooh. I want an ice cream. The… pink one?’

‘That’s strawberry. You can eat it in a cone, or in a cup.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Well, the cup you can’t eat. The cone is like a crispy biscuit,’ judging by her face, she didn’t know what biscuit was. ‘I’ll just give you a cone. It’s all on the house, so no worries if you don’t like it.’

I watched eagerly as she licked the ice cream. An unreadable look crossed her face. Then – ‘This is almost as good as Hunk’s cookies!’

‘Really?’ Coran asked, twirling his moustache. ‘Well, then…’ he squinted to read the names of the various flavours. ‘I would like “cookies and cream”. Yes.’ A cone of cookies n’ cream was served.

‘Allura?’

‘Do you have something that isn’t sweet?’ That was a plot twist. I’d have taken her as someone who appreciated sweeter foods.

‘We do. You want spicy?’

‘…Sure.’ Peri Peri popcorn was given and enjoyed.

And last… ‘Lotor. What would you like to have?’

It takes me a lot of will to not laugh at Lotor’s way too analytical expression. ‘What would you recommend?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Out of all this stuff, candy floss is my favourite.’

‘Candy floss… the item that looks simultaneously like a cloud and an old woman’s hair?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I would like a helping of candy floss, then.’

As I hand Lotor a stick of cotton candy, I wait with anticipation for his reaction.

‘How am I supposed to eat this?’

It takes me a moment to process that. ‘Uh, you just… pinch a little of the stuff in between your fingers, then eat it. Or you could just, um, go in directly, which I’m thinking isn’t really your style.’

He narrows his eyes, but follows my instructions nonetheless. Only a second after putting the stuff in his mouth, Lotor purrs.

Everyone around him, being me, Coran and Romelle (Allura’s off telling Lance how great Earth food is), looks with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Lotor appears as if he’s just died inside. The berry-shaded blush on his face is adorable, though.

'I didn't, like, poison you or something, right?'

'No. It's that... I would never in my lifetimes have expected something so tooth-rottingly sweet to be this delicious.'

'So you're okay?'

‘Yes. In fact, I quite like… this cotton candy.’

I grin.

[zaceouiswriting]

Life

Good sad day my friends!

I would’ve never thought that I would write a message like this. But here we are. Today we are getting a bit personal, maybe even a bit more than most of you are comfortable with.

I’m a 24 year old dude. As many of you might already have guessed gay. But there is also a very dark side of me, despite all my creative work. Since as my therapist believes, my birth, I suffer from manic depression. To top this all off, I got hit by a truck when I was nineteen. It almost ripped my left foot from my body. 

After getting into a hospital it took two weeks, before doctors could save it, in an operation that with some complications took over twelve hours.

Up to this point in my life, I was hyper focused on school. I had to learn a third language, because I didn’t do it when I was younger to finish school, which seemed impossible for me. After this accident, every little thing took a backseat.

My mental health fell into a dark pit, worse than anything I had encountered before. The worst thing was, that no-one around me seemed to really care, except for my father who tried everything to keep me going. But something in me died that day. As I was laying on the street, after getting hit by this truck, on my way to school, on my bicycle.

I couldn’t hold myself together. Went less and less to school, until the point, I wasn’t able to finish it anymore. After the school year ended, I was able to leave the house for two-three more months, before this was impossible for me.

Since then I have developed a fear, a panic to leave my home.

You might asked yourself: „Why is this dude on the internet on Tumblr of all places, who writes stuff, telling me all of this?“

Well my answer is a sad one. Since that day, I of course needed something to cope with. To keep me afloat. Because I am actively trying to get the only talent I have, telling stories, to finance a future for myself. It is also the only thing, that is keeping me actively alive.

But there are things, that keeps my head from the more darker thoughts. And as silly as this might sound, it is mostly youtube gaming content.

Im a gamer, when I'm not writing, which is a big part of my life. Today a news, that shocked my world broke to me trough.

I don’t know how many of you are gamers themselves or watching gaming content, But there is a guy his name is „Technoblade“, who is a beacon for me. Someone who could make me laugh, at the darkest of my moments, giving me a hand, to help me on a ledge to get out of the darkness to at least exist without the hopelessness, my head wants me to feel.

Today I learned, that he died. After as it seems a long hard battle with cancer. Which hit me extra hard, because a couple of years ago, when I was seventeen, I was at the side of a childhood friend, until her passing away from the same illness. I told her stories to keep her head off of things. But we all knew that she was going to die.

When we were kids, I promised her that I would be there, when she passes on. Then, neither of us knew what that meant. But I kept my promise. And hold her until her very last breath. Before she passed on, she told me that she loved me. She knew that I could never reciprocate her feelings, but I loved her too, not in the same sense, she did me, but it was enough to tell her that I loved her too.

I hoped, to never get trough an experience like this, at least not, until I was better myself. Even without knowing Technoblade personally. He saved my life countless of times. Not only he, but other content creators as well.

It hurts deep down, that everything I can get help from, are now only old videos of him, things I already watched, love but already know. To be aware of the fact, that he is gone, hits so much deeper, than I ever thought was possible. At the end of the day, I and so many others, did not know I’m personally, but he still was a part of our lives. A bright one at that.

Im angry, at the audacity of life to let someone, even younger than me, go trough this, to die such a horrible death. I’m sad for his family and everyone who got impacted by his humor, wit and friendliness. But I’m also happy, that he was a part of my life and so many others too. His death might be a great loss, but his memories are treasures we all should keep in our hearts.

We should take an example of his strength, his will and mental fortitude. 

And to the unasked question, why I telling this on Tumblr? To be honest I don’t have any other meanings of doing this. As I had said, I was hyper focused on school and after my accident, had not the strength to build anything else up. Just now years later, I slowly come out of my own shell. But I have no experience with Social Media, or Youtube or such. So this is really the only place I can tell a part of my story and tell people, how much Technoblade helped me get trough a lot of the darker times.

I just hoped, I could’ve keep his spirit alive. But as incompetent as I am at social media, more than this post, most likely will not happen. Which is sad, because for the impact he had, he would’ve deserved so much more from me.

Thank you for reading all of this, I just hope, enough people get to read this. And sorry for the ramble, when I’m under mental stress, I tend to jump between the things I want to tell.

Rest in Peace, Technoblade.

Have great day, you beautiful people, even with this news and these circumstances. I will take this day off from any work and will rewatch most likely all of his content.

We see us tomorrow hopefully under more heartwarming circumstances.