#i’d be happy with whatever sexuality mike is but him being gay just makes all the sense

[castleclerics]

since ppl are talking about it one of the biggest reasons i think mike is gay and not bi is bc el this entire series has always thought that it was her. that she was the problem, the monster. if mike is bi then that means he was romantically in love with el but either fell out of love, or just likes will more than her. then she would still be stuck in the cycle of thinking it’s her, and that she wasn’t enough for mike even after him gassing her up about being a superhero/ “the most incredible person in the world.” (which narratively is confusing too and wouldn’t make sense).

if he’s gay she would finally have another moment of realizing it was never her. and it was never her own actions that made their relationship rocky like she might believe. mike being gay would help el understand why he acted the way he did since s3 and their relationship would only flourish and not have unresolved pieces floating around. she would be happy for mike and will too.

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

this might be a weird thought but the way jensen performs masculinity (and i KNOW it’s a performance cause like, have you SEEN the mockumentary?) is just.... so inherently queer to me lmao

ok. okokokokokok. you asked for this. i have a LOT of thoughts on this. it’s gonna be under a cut because i’m gonna be annoying and psychoanalyse a celebrity i’ve never met(and hope i never do) but trust and believe when i tell you i know what i’m talking about so

you want my opinion? here goes. there is absolutely no way jensen ackles is straight. i hear you, ‘how do you know that he’s bi? that’s invasive and creepy’ but may i counter that point by saying how do you know he’s straight???? why is the default for everyone heterosexual? that’s a toxic mentality to have; ‘oh you don’t know for sure so just treat him like he’s 100% straight just in case’ like....what? heteronormativity drives me wild i’m sorry

and also, um, just to, um, prove my point that this man is decidedly not straight™(i really don’t want to do this but like it has to be said) we KNOW he’s not straight because his d*ck has spoken for itself around misha, like, four times. I HATE SAYING IT!!!!!!! but, um, straight men don’t get aroused by men. ...do i really need to explain myself further???? that’s what i thought(and don’t give me the ‘it could have been for unrelated reasons’ or ‘that wasn’t a boner!’ crap because um good lord yes it was and misha caused every single one so no it wasn’t a coincidence i’m gonna move on before i collapse into myself like a dying star)

anyway, on to the topic at hand which is jensen and his performative masculinity. and it’s a juicy one.

after the unconscious amount of hours i’ve put into watching and subconsciously judging jackles, i have come to the conclusion that like, 90% of how he presents himself and talks and even moves is an act. it’s a facade. it’s a shield. he is not that person. it actually seems exhausting, because he tries to compose himself in this macho, manly, confident and effortlessly cool way, but he’s not that person he desperately wishes he was and wants to be perceived as. he’s on guard every second, even the slightest tilt of his head is like, pre-meditated in some way? if i’m going FULL body language analyst mode, i’ve noticed he has a certain posture he always shifts himself into, and it’s very ‘pursed lips, stoic faced, gruff voiced, square-shoulder, broad and manly’ but, not to be rude jensen, it kind of reads as a little kid imitating the adults he thinks are cool? oof i am going IN huh(it’s out of love though i promise)

he is trying to be this person at every second:

because that’s who he wishes he was, because that’s how he gets validation from the people around him that he looks up to; straight white guys. but to me, who he presents himself to be at conventions is just as much of a performance as this whole eye of the tiger bit is.

oh i should mention i know his body language isn’t naturally like that because how he naturally carries himself is actually pretty flamboyant? like he seriously must be toning himself down HARD

examples:

there’s no tension in his body here as opposed to the eye of the tiger gif. i’d describe it as...generally loose and free? he’s at ease when he moves like that and you can see it.

oh and dude!!! DUDE!!!! how could i not mention the fucking SPECTACLE that is his voice??? jensen. i watched season one. i know where your voice naturally sits. THAT IS NOT WHAT YOU SOUND LIKE. and there have been so many accounts of fans visiting jensen in his trailer and being surprised that his real voice is two octaves higher. again, his performance of masculinity is all encompassing. he can’t even talk normally because, in his mind, that’s a chink in his armour.

and, like you said, anon, this whole smokes-and-mirrors gong show of ‘i am the cool texan man’ is inherently queer. who are you trying to impress??? guys??? that’s pretty gay dude.(btw: gay[honorary])

i feel like i’ve already read this man for filth but i have to keep going bc i have so much to say

ok next thing i’m gonna talk about is how jensen says one thing but everything else about him tells us the exact opposite. another HUGE element of performative masculinity, ONE THAT DEAN WINCHESTER IS A MASTER OF. have i mentioned how dean and jensen are like mirrors of each other when it comes to their sexuality and queer identity??? because it is fascinating how everything i say about jensen also directly applies to dean.

allow me to introduce the grumpy face™. as in, the face he glues on when he’s enjoying doing something but doesn’t want to let anyone know it. and it’s ALWAYS when he’s doing something that could be seen as unmanly in any way. (and when i say manly i mean the ‘ideal’ version of manhood that doesn’t really exist but that jensen seems to be striving for[and dean too])

prime example is this video he did with daneel. the grumpy face™ doesn’t budge the whole time as he’s like,,,,playing an instrument and acting like he doesn’t want to bc i guess that’s too girly??? but i also find this video fascinating because the joke IN it is kind of that they’re both poking fun at him for being so insecure about playing a freaking flute. because, i mean, he gets into it, but he wants you to think he is not.

also this picture.

what is this. i hate them. jensen is smushing himself into misha’s forehead but noooo his face is telling us ‘i hate this’ because CLEARLY he does. also misha’s so happy ew gross

he does that face in photo ops with misha ALL THE TIME but how many times has he also literally asked the con goers if he can also have those photos on his phone too? because of course he actually loves touching misha and is actually a sentimental fool but he tries so hard to hide it and fails so spectacularly.

oh and this. and of COURSE this. actually let’s talk about the hitch kiss for a hot minute because it’s a perfect example of exactly what i’m talking about

(he is so transparent guys. he tries so hard but he’s so obvious.)

1. misha was never supposed to be onstage with him. so it’s a boldface LIE and OBVIOUS PLOY TO GET MISHA TO KISS HIM when he says ‘they’d like us to make out now’. but of course the way he says it is ‘oh my god can you believe what these crazy panel people are making us do haha but i mean what they say goes amirite’. same energy as ‘oh my god did you just dare us to kiss rn???’ ‘....no i didn’t’ ‘oh my god i can’t believe you’d ask that haha but i can’t say no to a dare lol’ it’s the SAME THING

2. the fact that he was in the worst mood before misha came onstage and FAKE KISSING HIM made him feel...SO?? much better? like not just a little better a lot better like, again, that says a lot, because if they weren’t dating he would not be in a better mood if misha kissed his cheek unprompted. bc that cheek kiss wasn’t a joke it was a genuine sign of affection and AHHHH

3. after the kiss happens. you know, the one that jensen actively leans into and is smiling like an idiot the whole time through and is quite clearly having the time of his life during....he says ‘well, that was uncomfortable’. .......my guy. um. i don’t know how to tell you that i do in fact have eyes and you are NOT pulling the fast one you think you are

like i’m so sorry jensen but i have you pegged. it’s literally no use.

god there’s so many instances of him doing this with misha specifically. the whole ‘ew gross lol’ but then everything about him tells us the exact opposite. like this(i hate this. how dare he say ‘he has though, hasn’t he?’ LIKE THAT?????)

so yeah my point with that is he really wants us to think he is one thing when he is the antithesis of what he’s trying to be. he really likes those things that he talks down about, and everything he’s loudly projecting is all to hide how he really feels. he went to a gay bar with daneel, for crying out loud. he wants to play a role in drag. he’s queer and he likes it. pov: you’re jensen ackles train of thought: ‘ok so i really like this thing that people might make fun of me for or call me gay for liking so if i just say ‘lol as if’ and make a grossed-out face they will be FOOLED. i am a genius. hey misha wanna blow on my ear lol i meAN GROSS EW’

i have two more things i want to talk about when it comes to this topic so PLEASE bear with me anon this is why you took so long to answer clearly lmao

ok so we’re now going to go over my favorite hot take of all time. which is ‘how do we know dean’s performing masculinity? because sam isn’t.’ only replace dean with jensen and sam with jared and oh my god do we ever have a case

jared is as STRAIGHT as they come. he is secure in that knowledge. and that’s why he is perfectly comfortable treating misha like this:

and not try to scream ‘i am not enjoying doing this!!!!!!’ at us. because he doesn’t care what we think of his sexuality like jensen does(because he has nothing to hide whereas jensen DOES)

something i found the other day that no one has brought up but i SCREAMED upon finding it is this one clip THAT I CAN’T FIND OH GOD but i promise i’m not making it up. i can’t believe i can’t find it guys it is gold. i need need NEED to talk about it. and if anyone knows what i’m referencing and can apply links in any way i will love you forever but here’s what happens off the top of my head:

ok so i’m a bit too braindead to explain it perfectly but um basically it’s a j2 panel and someone brings up magic mike and i think jared says ‘yeah i didn’t watch it’ and then jensen says ‘all the way through’. stupid joke. whatever. the joke is that jared is gay for watching magic mike.

and then i literally kid you not. jared gets this like ‘jesus christ ok dude? lol’ look on his face and then goes ‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ and jensen gets a guilty look on his face and walks away. and jared did not say it as a joke. he was being dead pan and earnest. and jensen knew it too, he knew he was projecting. i wish i could show you guys the clip i promise if i ever find it i’ll link it but IS THAT NOT SO DAMNING FOR JENSEN????? like come ON. also proves my point that when you compare how they feel about watching magic mike. jared doesn’t care bc watching it just doesn’t interest him, but he also thinks that just watching it in itself doesn’t make you gay. jensen however.......has a different mindset, clearly.

‘projecting much, mr. ackles?’ is actually a great title for my next and FINAL section(we’re almost there folks) which is how jensen projects his insecurites about his own sexuality and relationship with misha onto misha.

i hope by now we’ve all seen this video of jensen impersonating cas. it is a blatant microaggression on his part. and like obviously homophobic. it’s like in his mind if he makes fun of them for being gay it makes them both less gay somehow??? it’s self-deprecation in a way??? let’s just tell it like it is: that impression was just jensen’s overt internalized homophobia rearing it’s ugly head. he does it a LOT too when it comes to misha.

i mean:

and that whole mess where he’s making fun of misha for being a bottom in their panel in 2016? ‘so you’re saying, like with football terms, there’s a handler and there’s a receiver heheheehe’ jensen you’re not exempt from being gay just because you know football terms lmao

oh and his OTHER impression of misha where he mocks him for...bicycling...because it’s not a manly enough sport??? jensen NO ONE else has ever thought this hard in their lives about what constitutes as masculine enough to be a sport before. that’s all you bud. we don’t find those jokes nearly as funny as you do. you are reaching, sir

the good news is that misha thinks it’s hilarious and knows it’s projecting on jensen’s part and will tease him endlessly for it. many stories come to mind, like that one photo op story where they’re literally dressed in rainbow banners and pride stickers but when misha goes to hold his hand jensen said something like ‘no way’ and then misha stepped back, put his hands on his hips and went ‘that’s the part that’s too gay for you???’ and jensen LOST it

or when that whole underwear thing happened(messy messY MESSY BTW) and then a fan asked a question about what dean and cas would do in rome and misha just said ‘when in rome’ and jensen makes a face like ‘are you serious’ and then misha says ‘you can’t look at me like that anymore, because of what you did!!!!!!’

OH and that whole story about when misha suggested they put jensen in the closet for that cat video....yeah um

and then when jensen was asked to do bisexual finger guns for a photo op and the con goer said ‘he looks bisexual here’ and misha literally said ‘oh he definitely looks bisexual here. i would say he’s actually closer to the gay side of the spectrum’ so..um...make with that as you will

OH MY GOD i’m finally done. wow. WOW. that was a lot. i hope i’ve blown your minds. ty anon i really wanted to talk about this and i hope you’re happy with the outcome!!!!!!

[liesyousoldme]

in honor of eddie month, i’m releasing a collection of WIPs that will never be completed (usually because i just ran out of momentum writing them). they’re all eddie centric and canon divergent. here’s the third!

  this is about 3600 words! featuring a lot of internalized homophobia, a gay crisis, and eddie’s issues from the book with religion and worrying about going to hell and how that ties into his sexuality

“Meet back in half an hour?” Mike’s voice was cheery as he looked around at the six other Losers that stood in the hotel lobby.

Beverly and Eddie spoke at the same time – Beverly suggesting they do breakfast instead so everyone could get some rest, and Eddie loudly saying: “You expect me to get this nasty shit off of my body in less than thirty minutes?” He noticed Richie wince next to him. “What?”

“Dude, you’re screaming,” Richie told him, just as Mike agreed with Beverly.

“No I’m fucking not,” Eddie countered, frowning.

“As much as I hate to agree with Richie,” Stan said, “you are. Clean out your ears while you’re in the shower.”

Eddie gaped at his friend. “My… my ears?”

“Bet you got leper puke in there,” Richie added, grinning. Eddie was horrified. He hadn’t realized everyone else had already headed upstairs to their respective rooms to shower – except Beverly and Ben, who seemed to have entered the same room. He wasn’t even sure where Mike had gone.

“While you guys argue, I’m going to take a shower and call my wife,” Stan said, an embarrassed expression crossing his face. Eddie wasn’t sure what to say; they all knew the story: Patty had caught Stan in the midst of writing seven letters, stopping him from making any permanent decisions and calling Mike to find out what had been so awful that her happy husband had decided to calmly sit down and write suicide notes for the people he loved. Mike and Stan had explained the situation to her as well as they could; in the end, it had been his own wife who convinced Stan that he couldn’t turn his back on a promise.

“Well, I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Eds,” Richie said, when the door closed behind Stan. He started up the stairs when Eddie’s voice stopped him.

“There’s… I don’t have a shower curtain anymore,” Eddie told him, voice still too loud. “Or, it has a knife hole and blood on it…”

“Eddie Spaghetti, are you trying to get naked with me?”

Eddie floundered, face turning red. “Wh – I – No! I just. Shut the fuck up, Richie!”

Richie laughed, gesturing at Eddie to follow him. “C’mon, dumbass, you can use my shower. I’ll even let you go first.”

“Wow, my knight in shining armor,” Eddie muttered, following Richie up the stairs. He’d already brought his luggage back up and left it outside his own room, so he grabbed it and entered Richie’s room. Richie was already digging through the one small suitcase he’d brought.

“You know…” Richie started, then paused. Eddie looked at him, dropping his toiletry bag on the bed next to Richie’s luggage. Richie looked back, biting his lip. He finally shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Just take your shower, Eds,” Richie sighed. Eddie felt his stomach drop and knew there was disappointment on his face. Richie was looking down at his bag, still moving clothes around like he was looking for something, but Eddie was sure it was just a way to avoid eye contact. He waited for Richie to say something for a few moments, and when he didn’t, he rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom.

It was disgusting work, peeling off the clothes he’d been wearing for over 24 hours. He realized this outfit had been on an airplane, in a rental car, at a restaurant, in the basement of the pharmacy, covered in Leper puke, bled on from his own stab wound, through the Derry sewer system, into It’s lair and finally into the Quarry.

He already began making plans to burn all of it.

The shower in Richie’s bathroom was exactly the same as the one in his own, down to the ugly green color of the curtain, and the sight of it made him shiver. He stood under the water unable to close his eyes, constantly checking to make sure a crazy escaped inmate wasn’t waiting on the other side of the curtain with a knife. He’d seen Bowers’ dead body, but he couldn’t help but think the sharp end of a knife was going to tear through the curtain at any moment.

He started by cleaning out his ears, steadfastly avoiding looking at the gunk that he removed, then moved onto his hair, because he knew he’d have to keep his eyes closed the longest to rinse out shampoo and he wanted to get it over with. It took three washes before his hair felt sufficiently clean, and he’d only peeked around the shower curtain four times. After that, he used a washcloth from the hotel, lathered in his own antibacterial body wash, to scrub every inch of his skin until he was bright red but clean. He checked for an intruder only twice as he did so. He washed only the bottom half of his face with his face wash, choosing to scrub his forehead with the washcloth so as not to risk soap in the eyes. It wasn’t until he had opened the curtain and begun to dry off that he realized how hard his heart had pounded the entire time he’d been showering.

He was going to have to find a place with a walk-in shower, the kind with a glass door and glass walls, once he decided where he was going to live after he left Derry. Not only did his house in New York have tubs with shower curtains, but it had Myra and years of unhappiness, and he had already decided he was not going back.

Once he was dry, he stepped out of the shower and frowned, wincing when it pulled at his cheek. He wrapped the towel around himself tightly and exited the bathroom, already planning to avoid Richie’s gaze and letting his eyes go directly toward his suitcase on the bed.

However, they landed on Richie in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxers on the bed, instead. He was clean, hair wet against the pillow, and he grinned wolfishly at Eddie.

“Oh,” Richie said. “Do you have something you need to tell me, Eds? You sleep in the nude? I’m sorry, but I’m not your wife, so – “

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, ignoring the heat in his cheeks. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. How did you shower?”

“I used Ben’s, since he’s busy fucking Beverly in hers,” Richie answered casually.

“Christ, Rich,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head. “Don’t… You can’t say shit like that, they’re our friends.”

“Just because they’re our friends doesn’t mean we have to pretend like they’re not absolutely having sex right now.”

“I’d prefer not to think about it, actually,” Eddie said, kneeling down to the floor where Richie had placed his luggage and looking for something to use as pajamas.

“I’d prefer to think about it,” Richie grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Eddie, who had glanced up to give him a disgusted look.

“Stop thinking about Beverly naked, Richie.”

“Oh, it’s not Beverly I’m thinking about,” he said.

Eddie whipped his head around, clutching a t-shirt in his hand.

“Oh, come on,” Richie said, looking in the opposite direction. His fingers fidgeted where they rested on his chest. “Ben’s super hot now, and Beverly’s like… my sister.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what to say. Was this a joke?

“Um,” he cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “What?”

“Don’t act all oblivious now, Eds,” Richie continued, though Eddie could hear the discomfort in his voice. He always resorted to that fake laughter, to jokes that didn’t quite land, when he was nervous.

“Uh – Is this…” Eddie trailed off, staring at Richie’s poker face. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious about Ben. Like, are you actually attracted to him?”

Richie glanced to the side. “Attracted to him how?”

Eddie felt the urge to stomp his foot. Richie was being difficult on purpose and he wasn’t sure how, but somehow this was a ruse to make fun of him. “Attracted to him the normal way, Richie. Like, physically. Sexually. Whatever.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t say no if he offered,” Richie shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, “but is this you coming out to me right now?”

“I thought I did that at dinner when I talked about how hot Ben was.”

“Can you be serious for like, five seconds?”

“I am being serious!” Richie insisted, sitting up. Eddie pulled his t-shirt over his head without removing the towel from his waist. “I mean… if you’re okay with that?”

“If I’m okay… With you being attracted to Ben.”

“No, you fucking dumbass!” Richie rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about Ben!” He paused and shook his head. “Okay, no, I give a shit about Ben, just not like that. I just meant… if you’re okay with me being… not straight.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed. He was clutching his towel.

“I uh, probably should’ve done this at a better time, huh?” Richie said, cheeks red. He laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. “Like, when you’re not naked.”

“I’m not naked,” Eddie argued weakly.

“You’re naked enough,” Richie muttered.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“God, Eddie, please tell me you’re not this fucking stupid.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked angrily.

“Nothing,” Richie answered, shaking his head. “Just go back to your room, Eds. I’m sure your bed doesn’t have blood on it.”

“Dude, no,” he said.

“I’m not asking, Eddie. You need to leave.”

Eddie stared, eyes wide. He’d never heard Richie’s voice like that and it made his stomach drop. He felt glued to the floor, watching as Richie sat up and put his feet on the floor.

“Eddie,” Richie said, his voice still cold. “I can’t do this right now, okay?”

“Do what?” He knew he sounded whiny but he couldn’t help it, Richie wasn’t making any sense.

“I can’t talk about my fucking feelings with you, Eddie,” Richie yelled, standing up from the bed. “Not when I just came out to you and you had no fucking reaction, and you’re either stupid or purposely ignoring what I’m trying to tell you, and you’re fucking naked!”

Eddie exhaled heavily. “You said you were attracted to Ben.”

“Oh my God,” Richie laughed to himself, though there was no humor in it. “So you are actually just that fucking stupid, then.”

“I’m not stupid, Richie, I understand what you’re telling me!” He shouted, finding a pair of underwear and gripping them in his hand. “I just – I don’t know what to say! I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“Just say you don’t hate me,” Richie choked. He looked up and there were tears in his eyes. Eddie’s heart lurched. His eyes drifted down, taking in the way Richie’s t-shirt was tight on his broad shoulders, the way it was so thin he could see the pink of his nipples and the black of his chest hair, and even lower than that more black, leading down… “Eddie?”

His head snapped up, heat crawling down his chest. “I-“ He took a moment to regain his thoughts. “I don’t hate you.”

“You sound very believable,” Richie snarked, falling back down onto the bed. “Now that we’ve had this shitty conversation, can you please just leave?”

He was trying to sound unbothered, even verging on annoyed, but Eddie could hear the hurt underneath. He didn’t know how he felt, but he knew he hated to hear Richie sound like that. Gathering his resolve, he found a pair of pajama pants in his luggage and marched back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made short work of dropping the towel and dressing, ignoring the way his hands were shaking.

He'd never thought of another man like that. He’d never –

But that was a lie, and he knew it.

He had thought, he’d just ignored it. Even though he’d told Myra he wasn’t coming home, she was still technically his wife. And for his entire life, he’d technically been a straight man.

(Straight men don’t want a better look at their best friend’s happy trail, his brain told him, and he shut his eyes tightly to try and make the mental image go away.)

So he occasionally spent a little too long looking at other men. And he occasionally thought of strong thighs and broad shoulders and low groans when he got off. But it wasn’t…

He thought back to childhood. Had he felt like this about Richie then, too? He remembered how close they had been, physically. Had he been leading Richie on, all those times he climbed into the hammock with him? All the sleepovers where they shared a twin bed? The movie nights where he hid his head in Richie’s shoulder during the scary parts?

Was it leading someone on if you wanted it, too?

What if you didn’t even know you wanted it?

Did he want it?

He didn’t notice he had begun to wheeze loudly until there were two knocks on the bathroom door. He jumped, gasping for breath he didn’t have. He felt dizzy.

“Eds? Are you okay in there?”

There was concern in Richie’s voice, none of the hurt from before. Eddie yanked the door open to find Richie standing on the other side, his worried look exactly how Eddie had pictured it.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” he mumbled, stepping back so Eddie had room to get through the doorway without getting too close. Eddie didn’t move. He tried to breathe in deeply, gripping onto the door handle. “I didn’t mean to freak you out-“

“Can you help me?” He asked, interrupting Richie’s apology. Before he could answer, Eddie went on. “When I – When I breathe, can you count? Slow; 4 in, hold for 4, out for 4?”

He wasn’t sure if Richie could even understand what he was saying, but Richie was nodding, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed. Once he was sitting he closed his eyes against the dizziness and gasped for air, ignoring the tears that leaked out the side of his closed eyelids.

Richie’s voice was quiet as he counted. It only took a few minutes before Eddie was breathing on time with Richie’s count, and it was only then he realized they were holding hands. With his free hand, he wiped the stray tears from his face. Once he felt like he could speak again, he turned to Richie.

“Panic attack,” he whispered. “Not asthma. Myra always just made me use my inhaler but… I saw a therapist, for a little bit. She taught me how to… How to make it stop, without it.”

“Why would she still think you needed your inhaler if it’s not asthma?” Richie asked, keeping his voice at the same quiet level as Eddie’s.

Eddie huffed a laugh. “Because it makes me weak. She likes me weak.”

“Eds, you’re not weak. You’re probably the bravest of all of us.”

He shook his head. Richie didn’t say anything else, just sat next to him while he focused on keeping his breathing even. He didn’t want to think about Myra, or about the kinds of things you need to be brave for. Richie was still holding his hand, and he let his eyes wander his direction, past where their hands lay in between them and to Richie’s legs, bare in just his boxers.

He’d never paid much attention to his own legs, or really the legs of other men. It wasn’t something that had crossed his mind

(except maybe it had, when he was younger and laying in a hammock, but it wasn’t really about legs then, it was about skin, the electricity he felt on days they both wore shorts)

Except in his dreams, the fantasies he pretended he didn’t have, the ones where thick, hairy thighs were wrapped around him, around his waist, around his head, on either side of his own – and he pretended not to think about what was in between, either, how lightheaded he felt when he got fucked up enough to really let himself think about it, to think about what was inside Richie’s boxers

(but it wasn’t Richie’s cock he dreamed about (wasn’t it, though?) when he took enough of those anxiety meds that his filter turned off)

And he could see it now, at least the outline, where thin material didn’t do enough to hide what was inside.

He was breathing too quickly again.

“Eddie-“

“You need to put pants on,” he choked out, taking in a deep breath.

Richie stood up immediately but Eddie couldn’t look at him as he spoke, embarrassment evident in his voice. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it – I – fuck, I swear I’m not – I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“

“It’s just-“ He sucked in another deep breath, clenching his fists. His mouth started moving without his permission. “It’s – It’s hard to have a fucking gay crisis when your legs and your – your fucking dick are right there and I want-“ he closed his eyes when he heard Richie’s breath hitch. “I just… want. And I can’t have because the second I do I’m – I can’t – It’s wrong, Richie. It’s wrong, right?”

Richie had put on a pair of sweatpants while he was talking, and now he knelt next to Eddie, making sure to keep some distance between them. His face was red, and Eddie could tell his breaths were harsher than normal, could see his own hands clenched into fists. But he didn’t say anything, just looked at Eddie, who choked out a sob. “Help me,” he begged, though he wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking for. He just wanted, and he needed that to be okay.

“It’s not wrong, Eds,” Richie finally said. He sounded breathless. One hand came up to rest on the mattress next to where he sat. “I know it – it was fucking hard growing up when we did, right? Getting called names and listening to people talk about AIDS like it was punishment, and even now, hearing all the bullshit from people who swear it’s all a sin, like it’s something we chose. But we didn’t, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, and if you… If you choose to act on it, you’re still not doing anything wrong.”

“How do you know we won’t go to Hell?” Eddie whispered, grasping the comforter in his hands. He felt young, like a child asking for reassurance, but he felt trapped in his own mind.

“I don’t, really,” Richie answered. Eddie looked at him, helplessly. “But I think… You go to Hell for doing bad shit, right? For being a bad person. But there’s nothing – there’s nothing bad about love. I’m not doing anything bad by loving you.”

“What about sex? That’s – that’s the bad part, right? Love is great and whatever, but when it’s sex…”

“That’s not bad, either,” Richie promised. Eddie jolted when he grabbed one of his hands, uncurling his fingers from the blanket. “It’s natural and normal. But I don’t – I really don’t know what else to say, Eds. That’s probably more suited for like, intense therapy.”

Eddie nodded jerkily, laughing a little and squeezing Richie’s hand.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “for talking me down. You were always the one that took care of me.”

“Yeah, well,” Richie shrugged, voice still soft. “I love you, so I’m gonna take care of you no matter what.”

Eddie wanted to tell him, wanted to say he loved him, too, but the words felt stuck in his throat.

“I’ll always let you take care of me,” he said instead, and hoped Richie understood what he meant.

“What are you going to do next? With – As far as, you know, your marriage?”

Eddie sighed. “She already knows I’m not coming home, but… I still have a job in New York. I guess I’ll have to find an apartment. I don’t know. And you’re right, I should go back to therapy, because I clearly have some shit to work out.”

Richie nodded. “I don’t think there’s a single one of us that doesn’t need to go to therapy weekly for the rest of our lives.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t know how well a therapist would take it if you walked in and started talking about how you fought and killed an evil alien clown.”

Richie laughed. “Eh, I’ll write it into a standup routine instead. Comedy is basically therapy, anyway.”

“No,” Eddie said, vaguely alarmed. Richie was grinning at him. “No, Richie. It’s important to me that you understand joking about your trauma onstage to a bunch of strangers is not the same as therapy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie said, waving him off. He crawled backward until he was leaning against the pillows again, the same way he’d been when Eddie had gotten out of the shower. The bed was big enough that if Eddie were to lay next to him, they wouldn’t be touching. He thought about it. “And if you want, I have an apartment in the city. I’m not there very often, I spend most of my time in LA or on tour, but. There’s two more bedrooms than I need and… I mean, we could split rent or whatever. Even if it’s just til you find a place for yourself.”

Eddie looked at him. He wasn’t avoiding eye contact, but he wasn’t making an effort to look at Eddie, either. His hands were folded on his chest.

“Okay,” Eddie agreed, taking a leap and situating himself next to Richie on the bed. His head hit the pillow and he sighed. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how close Richie was. He fell asleep to the soothing sound of Richie’s even breaths, and when he woke he felt more rested than he had in years.

[yousaidyes]

I wish I could dig this “coding in a different way” but that’s allowing the writers to say nothing at all in the text. If gay narratives are intended, they must be presented tangibly in the plot. Abstract symbolism or obscure references open to interpretation only perpetuates debate. Most ST viewers are not on tumblr/twitter reading the meta or the S4 movie blueprint. I'm happy to get byler in any form, but who wants to rely on possible coding as a plot fill? It's not "more than enough" to many.

i hear that, and yes, i agree anon. im aware that there are a lot people - a really good chunk of st viewers - that do not participate in the fandom. and since they aren't present here to read all the meta and analyzes, its granted that i wasn't regarding them in my post. i doubt they even take st for more than your usual sci-fi monster show for kids. to those people, i understand that the coding isn't blatant enough, and it won't be until byler happens for real. and only then will they be like oh so that's what this was about and notice everything upon rewatching the series.

so, i wasn't talking about them. they aren't ever here. i was talking about the fans that are here, participating in the fandom, and have access to all the meta that there is to read, and they've read it, because of course they have. how can a st fan resist that kind of evidence? but then, like i said, i still see them hcing mike as bisexual after everything. i'd seen someone do it recently, and that's why i'd made that post. they know what is going on and yet they don't want to hc mike as gay - even though they do will - for reasons that i don't understand. especially when there's more coding for mike. will's is less yet it's so valid, but mike's isn't. and i don't think that's fair to his character, you know? will got called names by bullies and his dad, by mike? he has projected on a girl. that's just as huge imo, and definitely more unique than the primary way of traumatizing the said gay characters with bullying and abuse by people around them like how show creators usually go about to get the point across. but the way the duffers have dealt with mike is a really new way of coding a character as gay: engaging in projection on a look alike and participating in compulsive heterosexuality. that's why i called it different. but idk why the same people who take will's sexuality so seriously, don't treat mike's the same. and i totally get it when viewers like to hc characters as whatever they see fit - its sometimes done even after their sexuality is confirmed - but then if they are one of them, why side with will's coding with so much passion? because he got called slurs and mike dated a girl? sorry but it doesn't prove anything. and alright, even if nothing is different or more than enough, if dating the opposite gender - and failing at it - isn't one the major neon signs of being gay, then i don't know what is.

and it's not “possible coding”, mike realizing that he's gay by coming to terms with his feelings for will at the end of the series is literally what his whole development arc is about. and by saying that im not trying to make his character about will or byler, please don't take it that way. he's his own person, but to be that person he has to admit the biggest truth of his life to himself. and i just don't like how such a big part of his life which is scaring him shitless gets disregarded the way it is.

[bypowers]

stranger things 4...

(this is basically just a rant about the next season and what could/will/might happen)

i was having a hard think about stranger things 4 and where they’ll take Will’s storyline and my thoughts were just a battle between ‘what could stranger things give us’ and ‘what will stranger things end up giving us’ since we all know we want certain endgames, certain storylines explored and different things from the show and it’s really upto the Duffer Brothers in the end since they hold the power to decide where things go and not all of us will end up satisfied but here is what i had some thoughts about:

it’s most likely the duffer brothers will not give us byler in terms of them as an actual ‘endgame couple’ - but we can all still get canon byler if season 4 does them justice - and they write in the LGBT story-line well -- since they have hinted at Will’s sexuality throughout the entire show. may we please have half (+ more please!) of what the reddies got, thank you. i mean canon byler as in the show recognising this ship and incorporating scenes in the show in reference to this! if we get more than this - obviously that is fantastic but as people have previously said that we should be ‘realistic’ or whatever... (however - with the build up with Byler - Mike and Will in particular’s relationship and interactions - there is more at large that needs to be looked at, revealed and dissected because of all the hints! - i’d rather not have to dissect the part where they suggest ‘Oh yeah by the way, Will likes Mike - but we’re gonna make you work it out’ you know? just give it to us Duffers)

mileven may re-couple after their breakup because season 3 confirmed that lumax had broken up 8 times - suggesting that they had gotten back together multiple times and mileven is going through their first breakup so there’s a high chance the duffer’s will put them back together to make them endgame, perhaps for the plot of their story and also fan-service. they may be trying to show the struggles of kids and their first relationships - we see this through lumax and are now seeing eleven really question things - the 2 outcomes of this will be the duffer’s putting them together again, making them endgame really just saying ‘they overcame their problems’ or they’ll keep them separate and suggest that ‘they had a relationship but realised that sometimes it doesn’t last forever, and that you can be your own person, especially during your childhood where things are always changing’ which would allow mike and eleven to develop separately yet still be friends. 

another reason i think they will make mileven endgame is because in Mike and El’s fight - Eleven asks Mike ‘why do treat me like garbage’ - which is what Max says to Lucas in Season 2 ‘but then you just treat me like garbage’ and they become a couple by the end of season 2. whilst Lumax was not a couple before this particular fight - they did become endgame BUT are broken up by the end of season 3...it’s hard to ignore this parallel although because both couplings are broken up - it might not amount to much in the end. just that the choice of words is interesting because it may lead to a sense of freedom and women solidarity from max and eleven not wanting to be treated as inferior by boys if these couples are SEPERATED, but Lucas and Max’s relationship from Season 2 has changed - they trust eachother and got together, broke up but are still friends and Max did end up breaking up with him in Season 3 sooo we don’t really know. BUT it’s likely that if the duffer’s do not make lucas and max an endgame couple by the END of stranger things - it will not look good - similarly to why mileven may be just that ol’ ship that ends up together anyway...

similarly to love and relationships during your childhood - gays existed in the 80′s! it’s just a fact - children like Will - who is canonically/canonly ‘struggling with his sexuality’ can have multiple feelings - it’s not absurd to think he may have a/develop a crush on his BEST FRIEND - as many, MANY people do throughout their lives - many young boys are faced with this as well, the world is complicated and feelings are complex, it’s not absurd to be able to admit this. if the duffer’s do make byler canon - in any shape, way, or form, they are suggesting this narrative well - that young boys, young children face a lot of feelings and emotions - Will happens to be struggling with his a bit more than let’s say another child would be. 

comparing the byler fandom to the mileven fandom, it’s sad to think about how the duffer’s have the power to do whatever they want - and even if it’s not amazingly satisfying - Will’s sexuality coming to terms will be brilliant and some indication to his ‘crush’ on Mike would be great. stranger things was after all inspired by IT (Stephen King) too.

with all that being said/typed... i just need byler endgame - IN ANY FORM! it needs to be CANON. otherwise that is very obvious queer-baiting. give will byers happiness and everything will be okay :) he deserves his LGBT well-written story line goddammit! max and el should just become a couple as well - could they also give us canon elmax? feelings being acknowledged? that’d be superb. also give lucas and dustin (and all the other good characters) happiness, but that goes without saying.

[dalek-in-heels]

Hi hello, I have Feelings about some (not all!) of the ways I’ve seen bisexuality and polyamory discussed in Magicians fandom recently, mainly in the context of how queerness is represented in the show / speculating about what’s next. Queerness and polyam are two things that are near and dear to my own lived experiences, so I want to put my voice out there. This turned into a 2k word jumble, but as always I am open to discussion around any of it! My opinions/experiences, not law, I like hearing other viewpoints, etc etc. <3

tl;dr 1) I think it makes narrative sense why Quentin hasn’t explicitly confessed his love for Eliot to his friends yet.

2) I think it’s canon that Quentin and Eliot are each unique representations of people whose bisexuality/queerness/no-label-sexual-fluidity manifests in different ways.

3) I think it’s canon that there is polyamory in A Life in the Day.

—

First, I want to make clear that, after literally decades in fandoms that queerbait (or not even that), I feel passionately about the writers finally giving us more explicit queer love stories. Like, viscerally anxiously needing some emotional resolution for Queliot. I’m not sure I’ve ever been this invested in a ship before tbh.

That said, I won’t be mad about how Quentin & Eliot’s arc has been represented so far, as long as it does continue to develop going forward. Like, if it’s not explicitly addressed at all the rest of this season? That’s an issue. But if it’s only addressed again, like, tonight or even just in the finale, and leaves open the potential for more development in season five while Eliot is actually not possessed? I can see narrative reasons for why that works better.

In large part because of Quentin’s motivations this season. This is key: They are telling a story about a man who has been suppressing his feelings for the man he loves, who he thinks doesn’t love him back, and who is currently possessed by a monster. Quentin’s cautious. He’s depressed. He’s not going around making declarations, precisely because this is a very different love story than the ones we’ve seen between any of the other couples. Not only because they’re two men, but in large part because one of those men is possessed.

Don’t get me wrong (ha)—I am 100% in the camp of people who want Quentin to make some sort of confession despite all of this, and I definitely daydream about there being some sort of extra footage from their 50 years that we’ve never seen. But also? Story-wise? I get why it hasn’t happened yet: The more things that are out there in the open for the Monster to use against Quentin—and against Eliot’s body—the more damage can be done.

I think that’s one of the things that’s so powerful about that scene in 4x06, when the Monster asks, Why do you care about him so much? and Quentin simply says, Because I do. Yes, we know from Eliot’s memory that it’s because Quentin loves him, but like can you imagine Quentin admitting that to the Monster? What shit the Monster would pull with that knowledge?? It’d be horrible. Quentin knows better. He’s keeping details as close to the chest as possible for a damn reason.

—

Which brings me to Quentin’s bisexuality: I don’t think him not talking openly about his feelings for Eliot erases his bisexuality. Yes, arguably he could have a conversation with Julia or Alice or whomever about it, but what purpose would that serve? Him just feeling even worse admitting out loud that he’s trying to save the person he loves who doesn’t even love him back? Much easier to contain if you don’t say it out loud.

One of the things I’ve really loved about Quentin actually is that his bisexuality is a version that’s relatable to me on a personal level. Quentin is a queer man who has mostly dated women (as far as we can tell in canon). I’m a cis woman who has, largely due to circumstance, mostly dated men, despite coming out as bi 17 years ago. There were also long stretches of time where I didn’t date anyone. None of this has made me less queer/bisexual. My sexuality is an undeniable aspect of me, but also, I pass as straight. A lot. Which is frustrating because I never want to pass as straight in straight spaces or queer spaces, but it’s a super common experience for a lot of us. I’ve known so many women who pass, many of us because we date men, and therefore people don’t see our sexuality as valid since it’s ~ not in practice. It is a part of us; it doesn’t matter what we practice or not.

Quentin is bisexual—or whatever label we as fans want to put on it, but he is not straight. He has had queer experiences and expressed queer feelings. That is canon. Honestly, one of the reasons why I’m drawn to him as a queer character is because he hasn’t put a label on it in canon. They are telling the story of a character whose sexuality is not heterosexual, and it is not the most important thing about him. That is valid. That is the underrepresented experience of many of us, and it is satisfying to see someone represented on television who has experiences with people of different and similar genders, and that is not the core of the relationship conflict. He knows who he is. As Jason has put it before, it’s the one thing Quentin isn’t anxious about. I feel that.

But okay, back to trusting if the writers will represent Queliot or not going forward? I think it’s important to remember that this show has always been pretty fluid sexually, so the writers driving down this route with two of their male leads is, while new ground, not an absurd expectation. On a less queer show, I’d be less trusting of how they’ll handle it, but I feel like out of any writers I’ve loved, these might be the ones who get it on some level? Yes, there are still majority heteronormative things going on, but this is not the first queer relationship we’ve seen on the show: We’ve seen Eliot with randos, we’ve seen Eliot with Mike, with Idri—and with Quentin.

Which, while we’re on that—Eliot’s queerness? Should also not be erased. He is not gay. He is somewhere on a fluid queer spectrum. That’s literally canon, so any hand-waving away of that is erasing it. Sexuality is just so much more complex than that, and I think it’s simplistic to say otherwise. There are people who see themselves in Eliot’s version of queerness (mostly men, sometimes women), just the same way so many people see themselves in Quentin’s version of queerness (mostly women, sometimes men). We deserve more explicit text of their past relationship and Quentin’s current feelings, eventually, but tbh I still think how it’s being portrayed is valid and has made sense within the larger narrative so far.

—

Okay, now I really need to talk about how polyamory is portrayed on the show.

I’m not sure how many people active in this fandom are polyamorous or not (please feel free to give me a shout if you are? I’d love to make more polyam friends here), so extremely bare bones crash course here, since it is an often misunderstood, underrepresented, and stigmatized relationship model:

Polyamory is a relationship model that can take many forms (not necessarily marriage, not necessarily hierarchical), and is always rooted in consent, open communication, and building trust between all partners and metamours (your partner’s partners) in a polycule. All polyamorous arrangements and other versions of non-monogamy are consensual—if they’re not, then quite frankly it’s not polyamory; it’s cheating or, at the very least, pretty dang toxic.

For many of us, polyamory tends to be an alternative to the monogamous “relationship escalator”—instead of every relationship we form having the expectation that it’ll lead to marriage (and/or moving in together, having kids, etc), we choose to explore all the different types of relationships that can form organically in our lives: maybe a long-term partner or two, more partners who are casual but no less cared for and respected, etc. Or there’s solo polyamory, where your primary commitment is to yourself, but you have open consensual relationships with multiple other people, short-term or long-term. There are literally endless other possibilities.

As for how this relates to Quentin & Eliot’s time at the Mosaic: I’ve seen the argument that it couldn’t have been a happy polyamorous thing if only Quentin had two partners. I don’t buy that. Sure, it’s common for there to be relationships where two people each have another partner or multiple partners, but that is not the one right way that polyamory is done or that people who practice it can be happy with.

I personally have been practicing polyamory for several years, and there have been long stretches of time where I simply haven’t wanted to be with anyone else besides my primary partner, even when he has had other partners, and vice versa, and I have still lived my damn life with love. Yes there has been jealousy and insecurity to varying degrees, but there is a lot of support to identify their roots and actively work through them, and face fears. “Love isn’t zero sum” is a phrase thrown around a lot in polyamory literature, but it’s true: The partner who’s only with one person isn’t somehow getting less love. They have their partnership, they have a rich, full life outside of any romantic/sexual relationships, and they have the freedom to be open to other relationships should the opportunities come along.

So, anyway, back to the Magicians: Do I care if the writers intended to show a version of polyamory on the screen in 3x05? Not really. Because what happened anyway, is they did.

I don’t think the writers would or even could get away with representing an explicitly polyamorous relationship, mainly because that is still pretty damn stigmatized and rarely out in mainstream culture. But I do think that they did what they could to make Quentin and Eliot be able to build a family together, which I think was a key part of their narrative. How else would they have shown Quentin and Eliot having a kid in that context? In the space of a highlights montage? I’m not saying Arielle was a fully formed character either, or that she wasn’t a pawn of some sort, but I don’t think she was a pawn to somehow prove Quentin and Eliot had any less real of a relationship. I think if she was a pawn, it was so that they could raise a kid together and have a family. (Which isn’t great, but that’s a whole other issue, not a queer erasure issue.)

My personal headcanon for the 3x05 timeline is that Quentin, Eliot, and Arielle had a polycule that was basically Quentin/Arielle and Quentin/Eliot, with Eliot and Arielle as metamours, who also have some level of romance and maybe the occasional sexual relationship. In my headcanon, they were all happy together, raising a kid together, growing up and out of the insecurities and fears that Quentin & Eliot had back in the present-day timeline. Like, I can’t picture a 25 year old having the exact same hang-ups as a 35 to 75 year old, you know? People grow up. They settle into themselves.

I think that kind of happiness is inherent in how Quentin and Eliot talk about it when they come back: it was sort of beautiful, we worked, who gets that kind of proof of concept. So why would Eliot turn down Quentin when they get back, if that life was so good? I think it’s because wow that is a lot to live up to, when he knows they are not the same people now as who they’d turned into in that timeline. They have those memories and some of that wisdom, sure, but also they are the same people they were back in the future. Eliot doesn’t trust Quentin would choose him in this context, so he runs from things he’s afraid of fucking up or not living up to.

Whatever they are or will become now, I really think that the polyamory in that other timeline was real though. Even though nobody was boning or making out, there was a family of people raising a child together. There were people spending their lives together. It’s not as much representation as we (queer people, polyamorous people) deserve, but it’s not erased either. We focus a lot on the fact that Eliot, upon return, brought up You had a wife. But quickly following that was And we had a family. That’s not nothing.

I think I’ll just end on that note. This is already so long. Let’s see what happens tonight!! [screams into the void]

[monkees-on-the-line]

Glory Days - Chapter 2

Summary: (Modern High School AU) Micky and Davy are entering their Junior year as best friends just like every year. And Davy is planning to act on his feelings for Micky.

Though it seems that with the entrance of the seemingly standoffish Mike, everything changes.

Words: 3,280

Chapter 2: Ignorance 

Ships: Dolenzmith & Jork

Davy stood on the tips of his toes, a cup of tea curled in his hand as he tried to peek subtly out the window. Through the clean glass he could see the healthy green grass of their lawn with speckles of yellow dandelions. And parked almost perfectly on their curb was the bright car Davy was all too familiar with.

The front tire was raised the tiniest bit, climbing the curb and edging near the grass. Micky was sat cross-legged on the hood, the early morning sun seemingly outlined him with burnt orange light. Davy flattened his feet and took a deep breath as he turned back to walk through the kitchen. 

His father looked up from his laptop and gave him a small smile as a goodbye which Davy returned. He lingered behind the front door for a few seconds before he actually opened the door and started to walk over to the car. 

Micky’s head snapped up in an instant and he grinned. He threw his legs over the side of the car and waited until Davy stood in front of him to speak. “My parents are getting ridiculous.” He flattened his palm on the windshield as he leaned over. 

“Yeah? How’s that?” Davy asked as he leaned in the open window to set his books down on the passengers seat. He glanced at the ripping edge of the history book he was just given yesterday and grimaced. 

“They called you my boyfriend today.” Micky chuckled with a shake of his head and Davy’s stomach dropped. He knew well enough that Micky’s parents seemed to think they were dating which Davy couldn’t help but think was a good sign. It had to mean that Micky talked about him a lot. 

Micky did a little half roll of his eyes, stopping to glance at a bird as it flew over their heads to land on a nearby tree branch. “Apparently, we are a ‘cute couple’ Davy.” Micky did little air quotes as he laughed it off.

Davy grinned, feeling a little bit better about the day now. 

“I think they’re just gonna think I’m dating every guy friend I have. I’m afraid they are a little clueless about this whole...me being gay thing.” Micky hopped off the hood and finally went round to get inside. 

He looked at Davy, who shrugged as if to say ‘What are you gonna do?’. So he smiled back at him. “You have to admit. We would be a cute couple.” Micky gave him a tiny wink before pulling off the curb and driving. 

‘We would be the hottest couple, no doubt’ Davy thought to himself and chuckled under his breath.

Micky considered himself lucky to have Davy, who never seemed bothered or phased by Micky’s sexuality. It was stereotypical but most straight guys would rather die, it seemed, than have a guy playfully flirt with them. And Micky was glad that Davy was an exception to that stereotype. 

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

Micky stood on his tip-toes (though there was no need) as he shoved his books into his locker. His shirt riding up as he stretched his arms and Davy found himself paying too much attention to the small peek of skin just above his hipbone. 

Micky flattened his feet and twirled to face Davy who put on a grin, handing over his books. “Can you put these in your locker? Mine’s too far.” He shook them with a pleading face and Micky rolled his eyes before doing as he asked. 

The boys separated shortly after that when the bell rang. Micky hung his glasses from the collar of his shirt and knocked his locker shut with his elbow. He shoved his earbuds into his ear and grinned. 

He couldn’t lie, he did feel a little cool every morning when he strolled down the hall to whatever song he was obsessed with that week. And he was happy to start off the next school year the same way. 

He happily reached for the classroom door, it swung open and he looked over his shoulder to see if any of his classmates were coming. He bumped the door with his hip so it would stay open for a few extra seconds before strolling inside.

He was hit with the comforting cool air conditioner breeze that soothed the heat he’d been feeling. He was glad that he was no longer going to be sweating. He ran his hand through his hair to make sure it was still straight and not frizzing. 

He was doodling swirls on the corner of his paper when his teacher started to talk about the practice lab they’d be doing today....’Shit, the lab!’ 

Micky glanced down at his crocs under the table and swore under his breath when the teacher started to gesture for everyone to get to it. Micky rushed over to the head of the classroom where he was sitting at the desk. 

“Mr. Smith?” Micky rolled from heel to toe with nerves. 

“Yes, Mr. Dolenz?” The man smiled, a friendly teacher. 

“You see, I have ‘open toed shoes’ technically...so I can’t participate...?” Micky kicked his foot up for reference and Mr. Smith gave him a sympathetic smile and shrugged. 

“I’m afraid not.” 

Micky’s stomach dropped. He knew it was stupid. He got good grades. It would not be that hard for him to make this up, considering he was a whiz at Science. But this was the first lab of the damn year and he wanted to do it. 

Sensing his displeasure, Mr. Smith smiled again. “You’ll have to do this worksheet instead...” He handed the flimsy paper over. “Unless someone is willing to switch shoes?” He offered. 

Micky shrugged and turned back over to his desk. He shoved his glasses on and blinked when he felt tears well up. ‘Don’t be a baby’ he shook his head. He’d only written the ‘Mi’ of his name on the line when-

“Hey.” 

“Shit!” Micky jumped and he could feel everyone’s eyes on him, he frowned but turned to see who’d just made him curse loudly in the middle of class. It was the guy he and Davy’d seen the other day by the bleachers.

He looked mighty amused at Micky’s reaction, hands shoved into his pockets with a smug grin. 

“Hey?” Micky raised his brow.  

He gave Micky a thin lipped smile and gestured down to the worksheet. “I thought we might switch?” He looked amused again when Micky brightened. 

“Really?” He stood, chair wobbling behind him. The guy took a step back and chuckled, wiping his thumb on his chin. 

“Yeah, I can skate by with the points off. And I’d rather not to do this anyway” He shrugged, looking back at the students setting up for the lab. Micky pursed his lips, knowing it was quite a few points off. “So....?” 

Micky nodded. “Yes, thank you, thank you, thank you.” Micky sat on the edge of his desk and slipped his crocs off. Micky held out one of the shoes while he got the other one off. 

The guy took it, holding it a little ways from his chest with a look of amusement and judgement. Micky held out the other one as he dropped his thigh back on the table and shrugged. “They’re comfortable.” He pushed his glasses up his nose and rolled his lips together while the guy bent down to untie his. 

When he was done, he handed them over to Micky who beamed back at him. “Thank you, kind stranger.” He held the shoes and spoke with exaggeration but he was genuine. 

“Mike.” He nodded and Micky nodded. 

“I’m Micky. Thank you!” He hopped off the desk and took off towards Mr. Smith’s desk to explain. Mike sat down, sliding the paper towards him. 

He took a pen and used the already written ‘Mi’ to start his own name. 

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

Micky had switched back with the guy, Mike, after class. They’d exchanged amused smiles and went about their days. He was now perched at the edge of the rock behind the bleachers. 

Davy leaned on the fence in front of him, lines of light covering his face. Micky had yet again come up with another long & rushed explanation as to why Davy could not participate in gym. It worked like a charm again. Sooner or later, the teacher would just stop caring. 

“-Anyway I got to do the lab!” Micky tilted his chin up from his phone, blinking at the sunlight beaming down on him. He wiggled his phone in his hand and sat back. 

“Who switched shoes with you again?” Davy pursed his lips, laughing a little at Micky’s ridiculous shoe choice. He could feel the sunlight hot against his temple as he scrunched his eyes and crossed his arms.

“I dunno, some guy.” Micky shrugged, looking back down at his phone again as they could hear the distant sounds of pebbles shuffling. It was just those same guys smoking their weed from before.

Though this time, Davy almost thought he saw a little recognition on Micky's face. But the boy blinked it away, turning back to face Davy. “Wanna get ice cream after school?” 

Davy paused, debating on whether he should ask about that look but he figured it was nothing. He shrugged, “Sure.” 

Micky grinned, trying not to glance back at that guy and his friend. It was odd of him not to share every possible detail of his story to Davy but he figured it’d be better to keep who the guy had actually been, to himself. 

‘This Mike guy looks like a slacker anyway...’ Micky tilted his head to observe them when Davy wasn’t looking. 

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

Mike watched Peter roll his joint as he sat on the ground with a raised eyebrow. He leaned against the wall behind him and crossed his arms. The blonde was what his uncle might’ve called a ‘strange character’.  Mike kneeled down, the bones in his legs cracking a little causing him to grimace. 

Whatever it was about Peter, Mike sort of appreciated it. Peter did not seem to mind too much what people thought about him. Here he was hanging out with Mike, who had thought that he was just one of those stoner ‘Hot Rags’ employees who smelled too strongly of incense, and he didn’t even care. 

“Here.” Peter smiled kindly and handed over the joint which Mike took quickly while he politely returned the smile. 

As Mike blew smoke out, her felt a shiver go up his spine and he shifted. Peter glanced up from the rolling of his own joint and raised his eyebrow. “Got eyes on you, man?” 

Mike pulled back at the odd question and as he did, he caught a quick glimpse of that Micky guy looking at him from across the other side of the bleachers, like he was judging him. But Micky quickly looked back to his friend. 

He shook his head and turned back to Peter, he shrugged. “You a psychic or somethin'?” Mike sarcastically asked with a smirk that his mother once told him made him look like a ‘smart-ass’...of course she had said it in a polite Texan mother kind of way. 

Peter wiggled his eyebrows. “Maybe.” He laughed and Mike had to too. 

“Oh my-” He chuckled. “You were one of those kids that had a phase where they thought they were a witch, aren’t you?” Mike asked with a grin. He asked because Peter struck him as the type. And he remembered the girl who used to live down the street from his mother & him. 

Her name was Sally or something like that and she used to sit at the end of block in front of her house and draw with chalk. She wore ribbons in her pigtails, and was always running around the street all hyper. If Mike remembered correctly, she had that witch phase. Mike thought he had something of a crush on her, something he laughed off now. He would ride his crappy little bike past her on his way to the park to see what she was drawing that day. Though his mother had told him to stay away from her, she was an ‘off child’ she explained with an obvious struggle to put it in a way that he’d understand. But he rode past her still, her drawings had ranged from black cats to pointy hats, ‘she wasn’t very creative that Sally’ Mike laughed to himself. 

Peter looked as if he wanted to share the joke but Mike just shook his head. 

“It wouldn’t be shocking to say yes, would it?” Peter played with the joint between his fingers and grinned ear to ear. Mike shook his head against the wall and remained quite amused for the rest of the day. 

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

“Micky, slow down.” Davy grimaced as he sat down across from Micky at the patio table, under a long yellow umbrella. Davy had just got his cone and Micky was already working his way through his ice-cream. 

Micky liked his way up the side of his cone and shivered in his seat. The sprinkles pooled on his tongue for a few seconds. “You’re really sure you don’t wanna go to that party on Friday?” Micky asked with a mock pout. 

Davy frowned and shoved his spoon into his ice-cream.”I dunno, Micky. All High School parties are the same.” He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. Micky licked up the side of his cone again without speaking and Davy decided it was best to look away. “Like eight people threw up last time.” Davy scrunched up his nose. 

Micky chuckled. “You have to admit that it was really funny when that guy Steve slipped in it later-” Micky was cut off by Davy gagging at the memory. Micky just continued on licking his ice-cream without being phased while Davy pushed his aside with distaste for a moment. 

“That was disgusting, Micky....” He trailed off as he watched Micky again, still eating. “You’re a freak, did you know that?” Davy shook his head and wiped his mouth with a napkin. 

“In more ways then one.” Micky wiggled his eyebrows, the cone just covering his smirk and Davy just threw the napkin ball at him. 

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

Micky let his front door close behind him as he strolled into his house, the new backpack he’d bought on his way home was swinging under his arm. His father was sat at the kitchen counter and smiled upon his entry, pushing over a plate. “Your mother made cookies...if you’re still hungry that is.” He remarked, looking at Micky who told him he’d been out for ice-cream. 

Micky immediately sat across from his father, helping himself to the cookies to which his father laughed. “You never get full...always been that way.” His dad, George, rubbed his hand under his chin as he chuckled. There was a flicker in his laugh that told Micky he was about to get sentimental or emotional. He supposed kids just had that instinct with their parents. 

He swallowed the clump of food in his mouth and smiled, throwing his new backpack on the counter next to him. The mellowing yellow light-bulb above their heads bounced off the shiny holographic silver fabric. George’s eyes ran over it, eyebrows raising with that little aged crinkle just over the bridge of his nose while a small smile grew. “New?” 

Micky looked up from his cookie and smiled. “Yeah.” He licked the crumbs off his lips and shifted on the stool. “Like it?” Micky asked, his smile pulling at his fathers heart. 

George picked it up and held it under the light. “Oh, it’s beautiful. See how it shines?” He swayed it back and forth while Micky grinned. “You have such a good taste, like your mom.” He set the bag back on the table. 

“Aren’t I suppose to be like you?” Micky mumbled under his breath and George paused, it wasn’t like Micky to be bitter. 

“You are. Just like both of us-” George felt the need to ‘correct’ himself but felt a little deflated. Micky reached for another cookie with a neutral expression. “What do you mean, Micky?” He gave his son a look, who shuffled in his seat. 

“I dunno, really” Micky shrugged, voice back to it’s light tone. “When I got the backpack, the checkout guy gave me this look.” Micky picked at the chipping edge of the counter and looked down, the way he did when he was nervous or shy. 

“A look?” George asked his son, who nodded in confirmation. “I thought that was a good thing.” He leaned closer, eyebrow raised with confusion which Micky mirrored. Micky tried to read his father’s face before it clicked to him what he’d meant by that. 

“No, no, no, it wasn’t that- It was not- it wasn’t the kind of look I want from a guy.” Micky flinched at that response, physically wanting to drop the conversation and run. He immediately paused and looked up at the ceiling, his father sensed his discomfort. 

“Well what kind of look, son?” He tried again, wanting to get what was bothering him out of his son. 

Micky looked down from the ceiling again and back to his dad. “Like...like he was judging me.” He grimaced to himself, not even sure why he’d decided to bring this up. It was not as if he was particularly bothered. But maybe he was a little bit insecure. 

George looked across the counter to his son. “And does that bother you?” 

Micky paused, munching on his cookie. The expression on his face gave away the answer though he didn’t speak at all. George frowned for a moment. “Son, You’ve always been the way that you are and you should never change that. I know sometimes I may seem a little ignorant but I’m very proud of you. And so is your mom.” He smiled and Micky smiled back. 

“People aren’t always gonna understand you or your style.” He rolled his lips together and Micky rested the side of his face on his open palm, nodding. They sat in silence for a few minutes as Micky finished off his cookie. George silently hoped he was doing a good job for his son. He thought back on all the talks his father had given him as a kid. And as he glanced at Micky, he realized that his father and son talks with his own son wouldn’t be the same. Especially since he was now on the Father end of it all.  

“Hey dad?” 

George blinked out of his thoughts, looking back to Micky who had a question on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah?” He reached out for a cookie himself. 

“There’s this party on Friday...do you think I could go?” Micky was picking at the skin around his nails like he was a little nervous. George’s shoulders fell as he sighed with thought. Inevitability, Micky was going to ask about parties sooner or later. He was a teenager after all. But he couldn’t help but worry, like any parent would. The decision should be joint with Janelle, his wife, but Micky seemed genuinely cheered up by what he’d said and he wanted to keep him happy. Besides they’d let him go to a few parties in the past. 

“Is Davy going?” 

Micky paused for a second before nodding, he was sure he could convince Davy to go sooner or later. “Yeah, yeah he is.” 

“Well, ok. But don’t stay out to late. Now no more cookies. Your mother will be home with dinner after work.” George put on a stern voice but Micky was positively glowing with that answer. 

[floralreddie]

The Unfairness Of It All (Part 6)

bro wtf i’m so sorry guys this went for 0 to 100 real fucking fast

AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/12248406/chapters/28214214

Pairing: Richie x Eddie (Reddie)

Warnings: Swearing. Sexual implications. Child abuse (severe violence). Homophobic slurs. They’re seventeen. 

Summary: It was a Tuesday, and it was officially the worst day of Richie Tozier’s life. There were two reasons that contributed to this fact, and these are those reasons. The first was that Eddie Kaspbrak had a girlfriend. A quiet girl that was in Richie’s Biology class, but a fucking girl all the same. The second was that it was the first time in Richie’s seventeen years that his father hit him.

Richie is sitting outside of Eddie’s house on his bike with the others, and they’re all patiently waiting for the asthmatic boy to hurry the hell up. Bill had called them all, separately, to ask if they wanted to go to the Aladdin and watch some new action film.

Everyone, of course, had agreed.

It’s been a week since Eddie Kaspbrak told him he loved him, and Richie is trying this thing called patience. He is patiently waiting for Eddie to break up with Susie, because he knows it’s coming and he has to be there for Eddie when his mom asks why the hell he did that. When everyone asks.

Because, as Eddie had said, they were going to tell everyone soon.

And Richie can’t fucking wait.

He’s getting real, real fucking tired of having to treat Eddie like a best friend. He’s getting real fucking tired of not being able to kiss his hair and tug at his hands and call Eddie all the pet names in the world because, shit, he’s waited long enough to get to the point in which he can.

Then Eddie is slamming his front door and wrenching his bike off of the ground, and they can suddenly hear Mrs Kaspbrak shrieking from inside the house for her son. Bill sighs from next to Richie, muttering a low, ‘H-here we go’.

They’re pretty used to Eddie’s mom’s hysterics at this point, but Richie is suddenly nervous as shit, because there’s only one thing Eddie could have told her to make her go that insane at the moment.

Eddie’s wearing a pink polo shirt and black shorts, and he throws himself onto his bike and says roughly, already biking past them, ‘I’d get going if I were you guys. Especially you, Richie. She’s gone fuckin’ mad’.

And Richie gapes, long legs either side of his bike, and fumbles to bike after his somewhat boyfriend as the others scramble to follow, none of them fond of the idea of having Sonia Kaspbrak shouting after them.

They bike only around the corner, before Eddie is landing on the green where a hill slopes down to a few benches, and it’s kind of cold out today so none of the kids of Derry are out. Mike, Stan and Bill look at each other in confusion as Richie throws his bike to ground next to Eddie’s and hurries after the boy, his glasses falling down his face.

‘Eddie!’

Eddie turns, cheeks pink and eyes wild. Richie is really fucking worried he might cry as the others dump their bikes in the pile (Stan keeps his propped up, of course), but then suddenly a manic, relieved grin is spreading across Eddie’s face and he is laughing.

‘What the fuck?’ murmurs Stan.

‘I have no idea,’ replies Mike.

But then Richie is pushing up his glasses and a smile is twitching at his face, because Eddie looks free. ‘I fucking did it, Richie,’ he breathes, giggling and running a hand through his once neat hair. ‘I fucking told her. She looked horrified. It was great’.

And Richie knows. Eddie told his mom about them. Eddie told his mom he was gay.

‘Told y-you mom w-what, Eddie?’ Bill asks, stepping forward to stand beside Richie. Richie looks at him, catches Stan’s eyes, and fights a small smile when Stan gives a small eye-roll and a nod. ‘She didn’t s-s-sound happy’.

Eddie scoffs. ‘She wouldn’t do, I guess. I told her that I broke up with Susie, and that Richie and I are together now, and that I am very, very gay’.

Richie stiffens and whirls round to stare at Eddie because, shit, he didn’t think his Ed’s would blurt it out like that. Eddie stares at him, grin wide, and Richie wants to pepper kisses all over his face, because Eddie is free and saying whatever the fuck he wants and Richie is totally living for it.

Slowly, he turns to look at the other three.

Bill is gaping, Mike is pulling a half-impressed look, and Stan is staring at the tree behind Eddie with a half-bored expression.

‘O-oh,’ stutters Bill, cheeks pink as he blinks hard. ‘Well, I-I…shit, I’m actually n-n-not that surprised’.

‘No, right?’ Mike mutters, crossing his arms and turning to Bill.

Stan just hums in agreement and rolls his eyes again.

But Richie is too busy staring at Eddie. ‘You broke up with Susie?’ Eddie nods, slowly, and Richie is grinning like the sun. ‘Fuck yeah, Ed’s!’ Richie whoops, and then his long legs are taking him to Eddie and Eddie is rolling his eyes as Richie gathers him in his arms and plants a solid kiss against Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie is blushing and looking over at the others, but Mike is merely grinning from ear to ear as Bill stares at the sight with pink cheeks and says, ‘In r-retrospect, it k-kinda feels like you guys have been d-dating for years’.

Stan scoffs. ‘Because they have, even if the idiots didn’t realise it’.

‘You’re so utterly rude, Stanley,’ Richie quips, leaning away from Eddie but keeping his arm thrown over the shorter boy shoulders. ‘So, we good?’

‘We good,’ Mike grins. ‘Are we seeing this film, or what?’

‘Patience is a virtue, Mike. Jesus’. But Richie grins down at Eddie all the same as the others move to grab their bikes, and with their back turns he plants a peck on Eddie lips and tells him, ‘I’m proud of you, Ed’s. Really’.

Eddie snorts. ‘Don’t be a fucking sap, Tozier’.

-

The film is dumb as fuck, but Richie can’t help but enjoy the way he makes Eddie snort every time he leans over to point out another dumb part of said film. The others ignore them, as they usually do, and Richie thinks that he’s never really been this fucking content in his life.

He’s sure that’s why he goes home after kissing Eddie around the corner from his house, out in the open, with the intent of telling his parents about his boyfriend.

(He tells Eddie to call him when he gets home, and Eddie says he will after he speaks with his mom. She won’t hurt him, Eddie assures Richie. His mom loves him, she just won’t understand why he’s doing this to him).

His dad is in the kitchen when he gets home.

He doesn’t look a lot like his dad, he knows. He looks like his mom, with his pale skin, red lips and dark hair, he has that softness that his mom used to have. His height and eyes, though, he gets from his father.

He usually storms upstairs whenever he comes home, so even his dad looks half-surprised when Richie meanders into the kitchen. His pop’s is sitting at the rickety kitchen table, a beer in hand as he stares out into their overgrown garden. His moustache twitches as he considers his son, his eyes already half hazy. He’s not drunk, Richie knows. Just tipsy.

‘What do you want?’

Richie wants to snap that he hasn’t wanted anything from his father in years, but refrains. Instead, he steps onto the laminate flooring in his Docs, and breathes in deeply through his nose. He thinks of Eddie, who told his ma about them without fear and without trepidation, and Richie knows he’d be a dick to not do the same.

If he does this, they’re free.

If he does this, all they will have to worry about is the dick kids around Derry taking the piss, but that they can handle.

‘Dad,’ he says, fists clenched. ‘I have a boyfriend’. He doesn’t say he’s bisexual, because his dad is a small-town idiot and Richie doesn’t think he’d understand the very simple intricacies of what a bisexual is.

His dad pauses in drinking his beer and peers at his son over the top of his can, and Richie breathes in lowly when he sees dark eyes so like his darken that little bit more. And, he thinks, fuck. ‘No, you fucking don’t,’ Went Tozier snaps, slamming his drink onto his table. ‘No, you fucking don’t, son’.

Richie steps back, but keeps his chin held high and his eyes narrowed. Slowly, he clenches his fists some more. He knows, now, that his dad won’t hesitate in hurting him. ‘Yes, I do. I have done for a few weeks. I’m telling you now because people are gonna start talking around town, and-’

‘My son ain’t a fucking fag, Rich,’ his dad growls, and suddenly his clambering to his feet and he’s so much fucking taller than Richie.

So much bigger.

But he’s Richie Trashmouth, so he doesn’t back the fuck down. ‘I am actually,’ he grits out, pushing his chest out and staring his dad down. ‘Your son is a big old fag, pops. And proud’.

‘Who? What little shit have you been fucking around with? That Jewish kid, because I swear to God-’ He doesn’t finish, but he doesn’t let Richie speak either. ‘You’re a fucking fuck up. Disappointment after disappointment. Your fucking mother is going to-’

‘I don’t give a fuck,’ Richie snaps, and then his dad punches him.

It’s different than last time, because Richie knows that even after the first punch, it isn’t going to be the last. His dad grabs him by the shoulder as Richie sputters and blinks away the pain, and his glasses fall to the floor with a clatter. His dad holds him in place, and then suddenly there’s a blinding, spreading pain in his stomach and he knows that his dad has clenched his fist and punched him there.

He swears and shout and claws, but his dad doesn’t stop.

‘My son,’ his dad grunts. ‘Is not going to be a fuckin’ fag’.

Even though he knows he shouldn’t, Richie replies. ‘Too fucking late’.

That earns him another punch. This time it’s to his still healing nose, and there’s a crack and a spurt of blood, and Richie knows that this time it’s broken.

He thinks of Eddie. He thinks of his brown eyes and his cinnamon freckles, and he somehow thinks that this is worth it, because what the fuck is his dad going to do after this? He’ll know about them, and he’ll stop caring, like he does with everything Richie does. His mom probably won’t even give a fuck.

His dad doesn’t really care, Richie knows, his dad is just angry at the world.

So he takes the punches, and after his dad stumbles into the living room after hacking up some spit onto Richie stiff and shaking form (because suddenly he’s lying on the floor) he clambers to his feet and stumbles over the kitchen phone and dials Bill’s number.

‘Hey, Big Bill,’ he mumbles, and his mouth sounds like it’s full of cotton (blood, he realises, it’s blood). ‘Do you think you could borrow you dad’s car and come and get me? I think I might need to go to the hospital’.

Bill’s hanging up and saying yes before Richie can even comprehend what’s happening (he knows Bill knows what’s happened, because Bill knows everything), because his head is starting to feel a little heavy, and he’s eyes are starting to feel like they’re weighing him down (and, fuck, why can’t he see anything?). So, he wipes away the blood on his nose, holds the aching of his ribs, and winces as he stumbles past the living room (where the TV is blaring) and out the front door.

He trips over a good five times because he can’t fucking see.

He sits on the porch, head between his knees, for only six minutes before he hears a car engine stop and footsteps running toward him, and with one look up he sees big brown eyes and tear stained cheeks.

‘Hey, Ed’s,’ he murmurs, because even through the horrendous blur, he knows that pale skin and dark mop of hair anywhere.

‘Richie,’ the voice sobs, and cold hands are finding his aching jawline and pain blooms there, there, and everywhere. Still, though, he leans into the touch. ‘What the fuck happened? Bill – Bill, go find his fucking glasses! We need to get him to the hospital-’

He doesn’t hear the rest, because suddenly the buzzing in his ears because far too loud, and he’s passing out in the arms of Eddie Kaspbrak.

tagges list: @edskasqbrak, @reddie4love, @toopunktolivetooemotodie, @arielgirly, @trashmouth-smashmouth, @mzcescapie

[shadowgale96]

Snk Sexualities

*My impressions. Don’t get mad please.*

Levi: Gay. We’ve never seen Levi mention any type of romantic relationship. But I think he’s gay. Isayama has mentioned that Levi likes tall people, and he does have a mild obsession with a blond 6′2 Commander. Also, he’s wearing Erwin’s Jacket.

Erwin: Bi. We know he at least likes women because he mentions an interest in Marie, a woman he met at bar while in training. but there are reasons to believe he’s also interested in men. or more specifically his right hand man.

Hanji: Nonbinary, and Moblit all the way. Kind of debatable. In the manga, Hanji’s gender and identity is up for reader interpretation, but the anime seems to have decided on girl. Either way, Hanji is one of my favorite characters and I love watching them.

Moblit: Whatever Hanji needs him to be. 

Mike: Straight, probably has a thing for Nanaba. Isayama said Mike thinks she is the best smelling member of the survey corps and smells like fruit. 99% sure that’s slang for ‘they’re dating’.

Nanaba: Probably straight maybe Bi.

Eren: Straight, but to obsessed with Titans to date.

Mikasa: Straight, but to busy protecting Eren from Titans to date.

Armin: Unknown. I’m really not sure here. I’ve never gotten a romantic vibe from him. maybe. Ace.

Reiner: Bi (Ymir makes a pass at him being interested in guys, and he’s always trying to get with Christa, so it must be both.)

Berthold: Straight. I know some people pair him with Reiner, but I never really got the vibe he returned the affection in a romantic way. If I had to guess I’d say Reiner liked Bert, but Berthold just wasn’t into him that way. Reiner would’ve been sad but he’s such a bro, so he tries to get Bert and Annie together because he wants Bert to be happy.

Annie: Straight

Ymir: Straight up lesbian love

Christa/Historia: Lesbian, maybe Bi. However, there were a lot of guys that showed an interest in her in training, but she only ever returned Ymir’s affections.

Marco: Gay (you don’t look at your ‘buddy’ the way Marco gazed at Jean like he was everything good and right in the universe) 

Jean: Bi. Jean has a crush on Mikasa, but I think he had a crush on Marco as well. I like to think Jean never really grasped the depth of his feelings for Marco until his death. :C )

Sasha: Always a slut for potatoes

Connie: Straight, probably has a thing for Sasha.

Petra: Straight, and probably had a crush on Captain Levi. I bet the others tried to tell her he was gay, but she never took the hint.

Oluo: Straight, I think he acted like Levi because, yes Oluo respected him, but also because he liked Petra and wanted to be more like Levi to impress her.

[bristidbits]

Theodosius

I knew that I wanted to go in porn the minute that I held a camera in my hands. My life’s work was focused on telling a story in a moment, and while action photography cured that ache for passion for me, it didn’t calm it for long. My parents didn’t necessarily understand my choice to pursue pornography, but as a college student with barely no experience in another field of work, it was a job that paid well.

I wasn’t one to go broadcast to others that you had, but I felt a sort of passion in my job, captivating the moment of pleasure and passion that can be defined to a single moment, or in other cases, frames of moments.

I stayed in porn for about three years before I met Annaliese, or Lisa, for short. She was one of the models in one of my shoots, and I don’t know why, but after her shoot, she came up to ask if I wanted to take her out on a date.

I declined.

She laughed, and said that she’d eventually get me to say yes. Lisa, every time she had a shoot with me, would ask me out. Eventually I caved, but only because it was a small office party and all of the models of the company were invited.

I showed up to the party relatively early, and didn’t mind waiting for my date, but when she showed up, I was actually at a loss for words. She wore this...sparkling red dress that accentuated all of her features. For some reason, it was more arousing seeing her like that than naked on camera.

I was barely able to have a complete conversation with her before we found ourselves in the bathroom, and I was fucking her on the sink.

We stayed in the bathroom for long enough that my coworkers smirked when both of us had showed back up at the party. I got annoyed with them and soon after, Lisa asked me back to her place. I obliged.

Our nights often went like that soon after. She would have her shoot, she’d invite me out, our date would end up with her back at my apartment or in my car, or in some place where I could ravish her properly.

Soon after the passion between us had died down slightly, it was easier to invite her over, for dinner, for breakfast, to watch a movie, to exercise. Everything just felt simpler when she was around. It was no wonder in a few months, I asked her to marry me. My parents told me that I was rushing into the decision, that marriage was something that should be cherished.

But I didn’t know what to look for at the time, and we just worked. I didn’t think anything of it. We had met in August. By December of the following year, we were engaged and married.

Walking into our house for the first time was like a breath of fresh air. No longer did we have to wait to meet each other, or pretend that we were only there for the sex. We had a home that we could call our own.

Around the same time, I offered a job at another company – Sin City – to photograph and videograph their scenes. They were just a new company back then, but I thought of it as a place to grow and not get bored by the same processes repeatedly.

Sin City was an innovative company that focused on different ways to show their actors, to create an actual storyline rather than videotaping two people fucking. I soon fell in love with the work. I would stay late to edit, give my ideas to the current director, I’d even sit in general meetings with the cast and the crew. Before I knew it, I was spending more time at the offices rather than at home.

I met Jake around the time that I started working there. I was sent out to recruit at one of the strip clubs near Sin City. Apparently, a few of the strip club owners had some sort deal with Sin City, letting them recruit as long as they got a cut of whatever profits said person made.

The way that Jake moved on the stage wasn’t necessarily like walking sex – more like liquid. My eyes had never stayed on one person for too long when I went to the strip clubs, but with Jake, it was hard to keep my eyes away from him. He exuded sexuality when every step and gyration.

It was no surprised that when I offered him the job that he immediately took it upon hearing the pay. Over the years at working at Sin City, Jake and I had become close. I would come to him about my problems and vice versa. There were still a few things that he didn’t tell me, but I didn’t expect him to after the first few months of knowing each other.

With the addition of recruiting, I had been promoted to editor within the first few months of working there, to associate director within the year. My workload had increased ten fold, but with the amount that I was bringing home every quarter, I thought that Lisa would be happy with the spoils.

I suppose it was my mistake.

Coming home, Lisa and I would always argue, or rather, Lisa would have this passive-aggressive stance towards me. I didn’t necessarily have to do anything, but she found it a problem if I didn’t compliment her on her new hair or her cooking. I brought most of my work to the dinner table, which instantly disgusted her since it was all gay men work.

She’d scream that I wasn’t paying enough attention to her, and that was the only thing that would get me off of what I was doing at the moment. We’d have a bout of angry sex, before I love you’s were exchanged. But eventually, I got tired hearing her complain and started to work late nights at the office.

It was when I started my late nights at the office, I met Dakota, this bundle of bouncing joy. He was one of the newest models that Sin City had picked up – awkward, cute.

It was obvious that the boy had developed some sort of crush on me with how he acted around me, and no one else. Still, I was bound by the ring on my finger to pursue any action with said boy.

Still, we hung out during editing sessions. Talked over the sweets in the break room, went out for long walks and talked about the next shoot. I knew that neither of us wanted to talk about work, but it was the only way that I could keep myself from...

Well.

I think the one thing that made me fall in love with Dakota more was how he would place a black and white movie on my desk every time I had a bad night or morning. It was my favorite genre, and he always had some stupid note on it like “Smile 😊”, “It’s gets better”, or “Think of me!”.

It made the days that I had troubles with my wife more bearable.

I came home from work late one night to see her sitting in her chair. She sat there, drinking a glass of water before she gets up and walks over to me.

Then she shows me the pregnancy test.

In that moment, a bout of joy rushed over me. I picked her up, kissed her, spun her around. In that moment, for both of us, it was like everything about our marriage had been repaired. We were in love again. I tended to her, made sure that she was comfortable, had everything she needed to be comfortable. Some days I was late to work, but given my work ethic and my situation, they often overlooked it.

In that moment, everything was back to normal.

Then it all came crashing down, once I found my wife in bed with another man. It didn’t start there. There were text messages exchanged before Mike and Lisa. She told me that it was a coworker that she hung out with sometimes, and I believed her.

Mike was much more than just a coworker that she went out with every Friday for drinks I soon figured out. Especially with the man in my bed with my woman.

I didn’t even bother to get upset as I walked in the room. They went on for a bit before they even noticed that I was there. I didn’t get upset. I didn’t even feel a twinge of sadness. I simply closed the door, grabbed my laptop, and headed back to work.

The days following, were the hardest. Following up on getting the divorce papers done while juggling everything that was going on with work, I slept in my office on most days – wanting to avoid the hellfire that was at my home still.

Besides, I had other things to worry about. We were moving towards a new project – Answered Prayers – which had both Jake and Dakota being the main stars. I had been promoted to director. It took whatever thought processes that I had left to get that working properly. Thankfully, I had a new photographer, Reginald, who did the work and lifted a ton of weight off of my shoulders.

I didn’t really care that apparently, he had some sort of relationship with Jake, or...yearning for a relationship with Jake. As long as he did his work then I didn’t care. It took almost a month to get through with filming, and a few weeks to get through editing everything.

But then it was over. Answered Prayers was out there, getting well-received and we were getting well-paid. To celebrate, we went out to Pandora to celebrate. I had both Dakota and Jake stripping since they had some sort of synchronized dancing going on.

While at the beginning of this dance, I thought it was a joke, I quickly lost all inhibitions when Dakota had gotten into my lap to dance. That night ended up with me taking him home, fucking him repeatedly, and making love to him.

The next day, Dakota never came back into work. Despite my attempts to contact him, he never responded. I think that hurt more, knowing that something as small as that would keep him away from me.

Because I loved him, and he left my life.

[latinalesbi]

Stefs hair is awesome I mean she looks so butch and it's so hot I love how they have styled it this half of the season

I love the style. I knew it was longer, so I feared it wouldn’t look good. But the stylist is on point, we don’t need to worry if Teri’s delayed in getting it trimmed. Stef is so hot, I just love looking at her.

Anonymous said:                                                                      Of Stef and Lena had been where they are now when the whole monte thing started do you think that kiss would have happened or if it had had happened Lena wouldn't have kept it from Stef?

No, not at all. I mean Lena liked the attention because Stef wasn’t giving it to her. One of the first things that happens when things start to change is that Stef cries on Lena’s shoulder. And she says, I just wanted to see you. I think one of the most important parts of being in a relationship is feeling needed. You have to feel like your partner will turn to you for support. It’s so important. In short, no Monte would not have been able to get that close.

Anonymous said:                                                                      I always think that Stef would top Lena. With her being more butch and that but seeing Lena top Stef in 0410 and in 0203 is hot stuff             

Yep, that’s why I don’t write it with one always on top. I think for them, it’s dynamic and depends on the circumstances.

Anonymous said:                                                                      Do you think Lena knew Stef was a cop right away?             

I imagine she knew fairly quickly. The position she was at school would sort of lend itself to that knowledge. So if she didn’t find out the first day, she found out fairly quickly.

Anonymous said:                                                                      The twins actually wouldn't have been in foster care long. We know their last Christmas was with their Mom when they were 5. Lena said they fost-adopted the twins when they were 5 and Brandon told Court that they adopted the twins when they were 6 and he was 7. Now, they've screwed with the timeline a lot but they seem to have settled on the twins being with them when they were 5. I don't think it was until the Christmas episode until we found out the twins with with Ana until they were 5 too.             

We don’t really know. We know they were with her for Christmas but do we really know they weren’t moved around before that? (And I could be wrong because I never really rewatch anything but Stef and Lena). I know they came right out of a foster home when Stef met them. I have heard nothing to believe that they left Stef and Lena’s home after they arrived.

My experience with foster care is that they don’t take them away permanently at first. So I would imagine that they had been taken away from Ana before and returned. We literally don’t know. Here’s what we do know, they weren’t being raised. They were neglected in god knows what ways before that. And we know Ana was excommunicated from her home before the twins arrived. So they were exposed to her family’s culture.

Anonymous said:                                                                      Callie hugged Stef two times this half season but not Lena :(

You can’t be surprised by this. The fandom as a whole prefers that relationship. I like it when they mix it up. I still think Callie needs Lena.

Anonymous said:                                                                      I don't know what it is but there's seems to be something so off when it comes to Sherri and Kamar. He gives off such a weird vibe to me. I saw them on OLTL so it's not Teri that's messing up their vibe for me & this is a thought completely unrelated to her.  Their relationship just feels platonic & not couply. & he gives off an extremely self-centered vibe. Not in a narcissistic way but he definitely thinks very highly of himself. Just my opinion though. What do you think?

I don’t know Kamar, so basically all I know of him comes from their social media and from press photos. When he’s posing pictures with her, he doesn’t come off as a very warm person. He seems to be more about himself and the publicity. I have only seen one clip of them from OLTL (really only to get a comparison for Sherri’s style of kissing). The social media stuff, he seems focused on the boys. However, they’ve been married a long time so they must be real close or they’re focused on their family. Hollywood makes for volatile relationships.

Anonymous said:                                                                      I'm worried that Robert getting custody of Callie will happen. Like I won't be surprised if they do it like that because they want Brandon and Callie to hook up again (yikes)          

Look, Callie and the moms are the angsty relationship of the show, will they, won’t they. Robert is an external threat being wielded again. I wish they wouldn’t. I fear a cliffhanger but I don’t have a single doubt that this show ends up with Callie as their daughter.  They have brought up Robert’s money and privilege, and I don’t see the writers letting that win. I don’t.

Anonymous said:                                                                      What Lena and Stef outfits are your favorite?

I made a whole post about this. Let me link you:

First Stef, then scroll for Lena

  Anonymous said:                                                                      Do you think Frankie's death was necessary to the plot of the show?

No, I never think death is necessary on a show. I know they didn’t want a baby on set all the time, so they did what they had to do. I still hate that Ana has a baby and Lena doesn’t. Life isn’t fucking fair.

Anonymous said:                                                                      what does ur url mean             

hell yeah adamfoster. When I started my blog, there was a hellyeahstefandlena account and I kinda copied them when the few active fans decided adamsfoster would be a good tag for the ship.

Here comes all the OT questions, I deleted a few: 

  Anonymous said:                                                                      How do we know that Brandon's ex Cortney is white though? Like the actress is mexican so her character could be a WoC, from what I know they never stated Cortney's ethnicity so we shouldn't just assume she's white.             

The actress has nothing to with character. The fosters is not shy about race and so we don’t have to guess, even about ethnicity. For instance, with one small comment we know Emma is Jewish. If they wanted us to think Cortney was Latina, we would know and same for the following question.

Anonymous said:                                                                      Mike is clearly a person of color, so why wouldnt his biological son be half of whatever Mike is?             

Whatever in the fuck? Mike is a white man. I know another fandom has had a meltdown over an Italian playing a Latina, so let me tell you, it’s not the same thing at all. Just because a man is dark doesn’t mean he’s a man of color. Anyway, just as the above, if the show wanted us to think that, they would tell us. One time, a witness who ID’ed Mike mentioned he looked Mexican or Italian. That’s where many have gotten that idea, but he’s not.

  Anonymous said:                                                                      what's with all this silly debate about B's ethnicity? he is entitled because of his upbringing, not because of his race. B has always been in a stable (barring mike's alcoholism) and loving household. cal and jude, however, have not, and were profoundly abused emotionally, physically, and sexually while in the system. cal and jude are white. all this white privilege "it's cause he's white" rhetoric makes the fandom sound racist.             

While true, both things influence Brandon. His white race has kept him from encountering the same problems as someone like AJ. There’s a difference. So he doesn’t know how nice he has it. He has had stability at home and in society.

Interesting that you bring up Callie and Jude. Jude has a more nuanced experience because he’s gay and a foster kid. He still has white privilege. Someone pointed out that in the premiere we see a cop wanting to make sure that Jesus is interviewed for assaulting Nick, yet two white boys are seen breaking and entering into a boat to smoke weed and make out and yet they get to run away laughing and giggling as if nothing happened. Do you think if Jude had been black he would have even been allowed near the boat? Do you think the cops would have been looking for him if he had gotten to the boat itself? I think the situation would have been very different.

Callie supposedly meets a version of herself, introduced to her through Stef. I think she’s played by a black girl, and it will be interesting if she sees someone who has had it worse than her and has a positive attitude. I am interested in the parallels. Callie’s problems are often her own doing and she loves throwing pity parties. And maybe she does it because she knows she has 2 moms that will fight for her and a rich white daddy who will come to her rescue.

And people can be prejudiced against white people but not racist. Racism requires institutional power which people of color do not have.

Anonymous said:                                                                      how do you feel about jude's relatiomship with noah? i think hes problematic but he makes him very happy so im condflicted

Don’t like Noah, don’t like Jude with Noah.

 Anonymous said:                                                                      i really like emma and jesus as a couple as noah playing jesus. i feel like she and jake didnt have as much onscreen chemistry

I am not in love with new Jesus. I liked it better when he was more latino (-Gabe) and played by a latino. By that token, I liked Lexi and OldJesus much better than anything I’ve seen on that front.

Anonymous said:                                                                      How do you feel about Ana and Isabella moving in with Mike?             

Train wreck. But you shippers feel safe, I am sure the writers think it’s cute. I think it’s creepy. He wanted to kill her and she framed him for murder. Yeah, people grow and all but I’d like for them to talk about that. Strike that, I don’t want them talking because I don’t want them taking up air time.

Anonymous said:                                                                      I really hope Callie tells someone about what happen with that guard. I prefer it to be one of the moms or AJ. I'm sure she wad scared but had to stay strong and calm at the moment.

Who knows? Police corruption is a theme this season. However, at this point, I will take this as a plot device for Callie to want to fight this all the way to trial. Much like that time they put in her in foster care for a night as a plot device to get her to look for her father.

[home-is-where-the-tardis-takes-u]

Sherrinford as the Subconscious, Eurus as the It and Sexuality; or: John is not the only one who has repressed his sexuality Sherlock did it, too but for Holmes reasons. Quite literally, for science (and thinking).

I’ve just finished rewatching (no idea how many times I did. I’ve lost count) The Final Problem.

While I still most definitely adhere to the EMP theory (I mean, come ON!), I’d like to add my two cents about it all. 

It’s not orderly because they’re just my thoughts as I was watching the episode.  But I imagine anyone who’ll read them is suffiently acquainted with the episode to know to which moments correspond this or that particular thought.

'the man you are today is your memory of Eurus'... Memory... Something to do with the brain, then. SUBCONSCIOUS

'after that he was different (...) they took her away'... Heteronormative stuck up society made Sherlock get rid of 'Eurus'

East Wind. EAST. Exotic. What is 'exotic'? Anything that does not adhere to societal norms. Stuffed his homosexuality down in a prison 'since early childhood'.

'shot John during a session' Interesting. VERY interesting.

Could be a metaphorical bloodstain at John’s therapist’s office. That of John's heterosexuality.

'Six. Six. Six. The number of the beast' ... Homosexuality is still considered sinful...

The flat exploding.... Both Sherlock and John coming out as partners to Mycroft who did NOT realise they were. John's previous Not Gay stance literally thrown out the window.

Sherlock and John storming a pirate boat... Well, to be together some homosexuals had to use devious methods. Schemes. Pretend (hello again, Oscar.)

'headed for the rocks' the captain says....there's danger if we're caught.

'this man stole my boat'... // 'whatever shakes your boat' (ASiP)

'I don't even know who he is' ; John looks, surprised, at Mycroft. He REALLY was not expecting John to play in that team.

And pirates were all cool with crewmates being couples, captains often married them.

John is not... At ease. His hands are... Moving. Fingers twitching (in the scene after Mycroft’s reveal of his fisherman disguise)

'did you bring my hairband' Hairband, accessory to change one's appearance.

And we all know that John's hand twitches (reaching for his gun) when he's upset/emotional.

(or to keep things 'in check'? Use a hairband to put around your attraction?)

'I never know if it's beautiful only that it's right' (talking about music)...often they're the same thing - if they're not always the same thing what's the point in beauty? //poetry or truth - many would say they're the same thing.

The look on Eurus' face when Sherlock starts playing 'him'...... Remember. She said. 'no, not Bach clearly you don't understand him. Play you.' not 'yourself' but 'you' there's something at work, here. So, Sherlock's acknowledged and embraced his sexuality which he kept repressed because they're dangerous/sinful what have you hence Eurus having been able to escape. Why not before.....

'one of the nurses got careless' /John is a doctor.

And her Christmas present....... Moriarty is clearly the embodiment of Sherlock's sexuality in the outside world. Eurus (psychological representation) and Moriarty (physical representation) together..... Collided. At LAST.

The tender smile at the end of the scene. She's proud of him. Happy to see him after so long. As she is. Not in a disguise. (next scene) John's worried of the storm breaking outside/worried over others' reaction? Over how Sherlock feels about them knowing? Symbol of Sherlock's inner agitation?

'She was never the same after that Christmas' //'after that he was different' HALF AN HOUR after. They're repeating themselves. Tut-tut.

'touch the glass and I'll tell you the truth' The glass is supposedly keeping her in - but the truth is she's not really. Like Moriarty in TRF she's there because she chose to.

Right. She chose to go back.

Because Sherlock chose to put her  Because all of their friends don't... Quite agree? But still visit now and then (and there's nothing that says that she comes for a visit). The meeting with the whole family... Sherlock's coming out - they have to be exposed on a regular basis to understand and accept?

He's being 'the adult one'. By sacrificing himself again. He does not reject that part of himself (his visits... To stay sane, too and not go on a sociopathic murderous spree as Moriarty did? Remember, Moriarty was an actor pretending to be an actor. First time he 'accidentally' met Sherlock he was disguised as a gay man. And 'a disguise is always a self portrait') but he chose to put it back until it was 100% safe

'You're a celebrity these days Sherlock you can't afford a drug habit' (TEH)... You're a celebrity Sherlock, you can't afford being gay? That's not as frowned upon but...... But prejudiced people who would have come to him for help would not have done so had had he not been in the closet. (thinking of the US ambassador in TRF)

Also... The time line.

‘5 years ago.’ Sherlock might not have fallen for John immediately after meeting him (even though it certainly rattled something inside him) but...

18 months for series 1+2 

Two years gap, Sherlock being dead and John grieving him.

 Series 3 seems to span over a little less than a year (November-May/the wedding then Christmas and New Year/HLV) 

TAB Sherlock's auto analysis and Mary's pregnant as an elephant (in the room). something like a year for series 4. Also, Sherlock and John met on 29th January. Not exactly Christmas date-wise but close enough.  Besides it doesn't even say Christmas day. It says '5 years ago'

‘I want to break free’ That one does not even need any analysis, self explanatory.

Doesn't add up. 'so am I under arrest again?' er, that was 5 years ago. Assuming there's been a two years gap between TLD and TFP... Doesn't add up.

Moriarty has been under arrest as in Sherlock put him behind bars because he was starting to get promiscuous.

('am I under arrest again' references on an obvious level THB... But they've taught us to read between the lines haven't they...)

I mean 'she's noted your interest in the activities of my little brother' Said little brother thinks metaphorical and exterior sexuality and feelings should meet because things with John... Upset him and he doesn't understand (you're falling for him and you want him, you complete moron)

An event in Sherlock's childhood that made him aware that he liked boys? While not conscious it's far from being unlikely that a genius would not become mature earlier than his peers.

He might have rejected it because 'Ew, involves feelings. Messy. I'd rather stay focussed and logical.' Not homosexuality, but sexuality as a whole.

Noticed that Eurus meeting with Moriarty shifts into John opening his eyes.

Sherlock telling Mycroft to 'shut up, dear' shows how serious he is. Doesn't want to engage in banter. With his family. This is a serious matter.

He's 'met his sister', after all.

About the trials... 'it has to be your brother or your friend'... 'focus on moral conflicts'.... Deciding?

What if the time line in Sherrinford is skewed as well? Most of it happens 'five years ago' and in the end he does choose for Eurus to get back to the prison - but he will visit her and not forget his complete identity until time proves to be right.

'today we have to be soldiers' Important sentence, Sherlock looks up to watch John say it. Coming out even to oneself is a battle hence the soldier part.

The Garridebs is about sight. That's the most important clue. Sherlock's turning an inner eye on himself.

The coffin is about feelings of love. Save love. Don't let it die

'It's not a game. I need you to help me.' //'for God's sake Sherlock, it's not a game!' (TLD)

Molly not only is a John mirror she also (here) is the representation of Love. (Mike Stamford is the representation of Cupid)

And Eurus is emotional over it. 'look what you did to yourself'.

Kinda killed Love without having it really utterly die.

He's not ready (let's assume it's all 5 years ago. Would have been hard for the make up department to unage them all after all)

He refuses to make a choice - John or Mycroft.

'You shame the family name'......

‘Connection, connection, connection, there must be a connection.’

Well... John/sexuality/emotions vs Mycroft/reason/not- heteronormativity-but- close Holmes don't do these things. Because sex is base (as in ‘interferes with thinking’) And Holmes who pride themselves in their brain will hold that as the most important of all. Hence the 'you shame the family name' and Holmes reaction when Watson told him 'you are flesh and bones you have - you must have impulses' -  Not because it was Watson but because he does have impulses that interfere with thinking

'Just turbulence'....... Coming to a conclusion....? Or starting to.

'I am lost without your live save me soul seek my room' // I want to break free... And I want you to acknowledge me.

So by TSOT Sherlock's deduced himself in love with John but series 4 is about him and John coming to terms with their sexuality.

'locked him in her old cell (...) not as strong as he thinks he is' // Mycroft's repressing his own sexuality, too (also, back to the film he was watching at the beginning of the episode) 'I'm not lonely, Sherlock. - how would you know?'

(that film was a guilty pleasure. Because indulging in er, sensations. Couldn't show porn, could they.)

Sherlock and john rebuilding 221b. Phoenix rises from its ashes. (I know Ash!)

'who you really are, it doesn't matter. It's all about the adventures'

It doesn't matter, shouldn't matter to society because its YOU who come first. You and your adventures. It is YOUR life.

[liesyousoldme]

i wrote a Thing but idk how i feel about it so i’m going to put it here and just... see what happens. maybe one day it’ll move to ao3 as a oneshot but for now i’m super unsure about the characterization aksdfjldsfs anyway if you’re interested here’s a post-battle fix-it fic where eddie AND stan live but you only see stan for like five seconds

tw for some serious internalized homophobia including dealing w religious beliefs because religion is a big part of eddie’s fear of being gay and i never really put it in fics bc it can be such a tricky subject but. here we are.

also tw for thoughts/plans of suicide (it’s super brief)

this is...angsty.

“Meet back in half an hour?” Mike’s voice was cheery as he looked around at the six other Losers that stood in the hotel lobby.

Beverly and Eddie spoke at the same time – Beverly suggesting they do breakfast instead so everyone could get some rest, and Eddie loudly saying: “You expect me to get this nasty shit off of my body in less than thirty minutes?” He noticed Richie wince next to him. “What?”

“Dude, you’re screaming,” Richie told him, just as Mike agreed with Beverly.

“No I’m fucking not,” Eddie countered, frowning.

“As much as I hate to agree with Richie,” Stan said, “you are. Clean out your ears while you’re in the shower.”

Eddie gaped at his friend. “My… my ears?”

“Bet you got leper puke in there,” Richie added, grinning.

Eddie was horrified. He hadn’t realized everyone else had already headed upstairs to their respective rooms to shower – except Beverly and Ben, who seemed to have entered the same room. He wasn’t even sure where Mike had gone; he hadn’t heard the door of the inn open and shut but he also apparently had leper vomit in his fucking ears -

“While you guys argue, I’m going to take a shower and call my wife,” Stan said, an embarrassed expression crossing his face. Eddie wasn’t sure what to say; they all knew the story: Patty had caught Stan in the midst of writing seven letters, stopping him from following through on his plan and calling Mike to find out what had been so awful that her happy husband had decided to calmly sit down and write suicide notes for her and six people she’d never heard of. Mike and Stan had explained the situation to her as well as they could; in the end, it had been Patty who convinced Stan that he couldn’t turn his back on a promise.

“Well, I’ll see you in thirty minutes, Eds,” Richie said, when the door closed behind Stan. He started up the stairs when Eddie’s voice stopped him.

“There’s… I don’t have a shower curtain anymore,” Eddie told him, voice still too loud. “Or, it has a knife hole and blood on it… Also, there’s blood in my shower...”

“Eddie Spaghetti, are you trying to get naked with me?”

Eddie floundered, face turning red. “Wh – I – No! I just. Shut the fuck up, Richie!”

Richie laughed, gesturing at Eddie to follow him. “C’mon, dumbass, you can use my shower. I’ll even let you go first.”

“Wow, my knight in shining armor,” Eddie muttered, following Richie up the stairs. He’d already brought his luggage back up and left it outside his own room, so he grabbed it and entered Richie’s room. Richie was already digging through the one small suitcase he’d brought.

“You know…” Richie started, then paused. Eddie looked at him, dropping his toiletry bag on the bed next to Richie’s luggage. Richie looked back, biting his lip. He finally shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?” Eddie asked.

“Just take your shower, Eds,” Richie sighed. 

Eddie felt his stomach drop and knew the disappointment on his face was obvious. He hated when people did that, started to say something and then pulled a never mind, and Richie knew that. Richie was looking down at his bag, still moving clothes around like he was looking for something, but Eddie was sure it was just a way to avoid eye contact. He waited for Richie to say something for a few moments, and when he didn’t, he rolled his eyes and went into the bathroom.

It was disgusting work, peeling off the clothes he’d been wearing for over 24 hours. He realized this outfit had been on an airplane, in a rental car, at a restaurant, in the basement of the pharmacy, covered in Leper puke, bled on from his own stab wound, through the Derry sewer system, into It’s lair and finally into the Quarry.

He already began making plans to burn all of it. He’d get the others in on it, too. A big fire pit for all their clothes, something symbolic for burning up all the shit they’d been through - he’d ask Bill, Bill was a writer, he’d know symbolism. And maybe if they burned the clothes the memories would burn too, and if they didn’t have the memories of what happened down in the sewers then maybe the fear would burn right up with them.

The shower in Richie’s bathroom was exactly the same as the one in his own, down to the ugly green color of the curtain, and the sight of it made him shiver. He stood under the water unable to close his eyes, constantly checking to make sure a crazy escaped inmate wasn’t waiting on the other side of the curtain with a knife. He’d seen Bowers’ dead body, but he couldn’t help but think the sharp end of a knife was going to tear through the curtain at any moment.

He started by cleaning out his ears, steadfastly avoiding looking at the gunk that he removed, then moved onto his hair, because he knew he’d have to keep his eyes closed the longest to rinse out shampoo and he wanted to get it over with. It took three washes before his hair felt sufficiently clean, and he’d only peeked around the shower curtain four times. After that, he used a washcloth from the hotel, lathered in his own antibacterial body wash, to scrub every inch of his skin until he was bright red but clean. He checked for an intruder only twice as he did so. He washed only the bottom half of his face with his face wash, carefully avoiding his new stab wound, choosing to scrub his forehead with the washcloth so as not to risk soap in the eyes. It wasn’t until he had opened the curtain and begun to dry off that he realized how hard his heart had pounded the entire time he’d been showering.

He was going to have to find a place with a walk-in shower, the kind with a glass door and glass walls - not even the foggy kind, just plain old see-through glass - once he decided where he was going to live after he left Derry. Not only did his house in New York have tubs with shower curtains, but it had Myra and years of unhappiness, and he had already decided he was not going back before he’d even left.

Once he was dry, he stepped out of the shower and frowned, wincing when it pulled at his injured cheek. He knew he should go to the emergency room, knew he needed stitches, but he was so fucking tired. Every muscle in his body ached from overuse and he wanted nothing more than to sleep for 12 hours.

He wrapped the towel around himself tightly and exited the bathroom, already planning to avoid Richie’s gaze and letting his eyes go directly toward his suitcase on the bed.

However, they landed on Richie in nothing but a white t-shirt and boxers on the bed, instead. He was clean, dark hair wet against the pillow, and he grinned wolfishly at Eddie.

“Oh,” Richie said. “Do you have something you need to tell me, Eds? You sleep in the nude? I’m sorry, but I’m not your wife, so – “

“Shut the fuck up,” he groaned, his face heating up. For a moment he worried that blushing would make his cheek gush blood, but Richie didn’t react and he didn’t feel any wetness, so he figured that was probably paranoia. He really needed fucking stitches. “I forgot to bring a change of clothes with me. How did you shower?”

“I used Ben’s, since he’s busy fucking Beverly in hers,” Richie answered casually.

“Christ, Rich,” Eddie muttered, shaking his head. “Don’t… You can’t say shit like that, they’re our friends.”

“Just because they’re our friends doesn’t mean we have to pretend like they’re not absolutely having sex right now.”

“I’d prefer not to think about it, actually,” Eddie said, kneeling down to the floor where Richie had placed his luggage and looking for something to use as pajamas.

“I’d prefer to think about it,” Richie grinned, waggling his eyebrows at Eddie, who had glanced up to give him a disgusted look.

“Stop thinking about Beverly naked, Richie.”

“Oh, it’s not Beverly I’m thinking about,” he said.

Eddie whipped his head around, clutching a t-shirt in his hand.

“Oh, come on,” Richie said, looking in the opposite direction. He’d tried to hide it but the change in tone was obvious to Eddie. Richie’s fingers fidgeted where they rested on his chest. “Ben’s super hot now, and Beverly’s like… my sister.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what to say. Was this a joke?

“Um,” he cleared his throat when his voice cracked. “What?”

“Don’t act all oblivious now, Eds,” Richie continued, though Eddie could still hear the discomfort in his voice. He always resorted to that fake laughter, to jokes that didn’t quite land, when he was nervous.

“Uh – Is this…” Eddie trailed off, staring at Richie’s poker face. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious about Ben. Like, are you actually attracted to him?”

Richie glanced to the side. “Attracted to him how?”

Eddie felt the urge to stomp his foot. Richie was being difficult on purpose and he wasn’t sure how, but somehow this was a ruse to make fun of him. “Attracted to him the normal way, Richie. Like, physically. Sexually. Whatever.”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t say no if he offered,” Richie shrugged.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie said, “but is this you coming out to me right now?”

“I thought I did that at dinner when I talked about how hot Ben was.”

“Can you be serious for like, five seconds?”

“I am being serious!” Richie insisted, sitting up. Eddie pulled his t-shirt over his head without removing the towel from his waist. “I mean… if you’re okay with that?”

“If I’m okay… With you being attracted to Ben.”

“No, you fucking dumbass!” Richie rolled his eyes. “I don’t give a shit about Ben!” He paused and shook his head. “Okay, no, I give a shit about Ben, just not like that. I just meant… if you’re okay with me being… not straight.”

“Oh,” Eddie breathed. He was clutching his towel.

“I uh, probably should’ve done this at a better time, huh?” Richie said, cheeks red. He laid back down, staring up at the ceiling. “Like, when you’re not naked.”

“I’m not naked,” Eddie argued weakly.

“You’re naked enough,” Richie muttered.

“I don’t know what that means.”

“God, Eddie, please tell me you’re not this fucking stupid.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked angrily.

“Nothing,” Richie answered, shaking his head. “Just go back to your room, Eds. I’m sure your bed doesn’t have blood on it.”

“Dude, no,” he said.

“I’m not asking, Eddie. You need to leave.”

Eddie stared, eyes wide. He’d never heard Richie’s voice like that and it made his stomach twist into knots. He was glued to the floor, watching as Richie sat up and put his feet on the floor.

“Eddie,” Richie said, his voice still cold. “I can’t do this right now, okay?”

“Do what?” He knew he sounded whiny but he couldn’t help it, Richie wasn’t making any sense.

“I can’t talk about my fucking feelings with you, Eddie,” Richie yelled, standing up from the bed. “Not when I just came out to you and you had no fucking reaction, and you’re either stupid or purposely ignoring what I’m trying to tell you, and you’re fucking naked!”

Eddie exhaled heavily. “You said you were attracted to Ben.”

“Oh my God,” Richie laughed to himself, though there was no humor in it. “So you are actually just that fucking stupid, then.”

“I’m not stupid, Richie, I understand what you’re telling me!” He shouted, finding a pair of underwear and gripping them in his hand. “I just – I don’t know what to say! I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“Just say you don’t hate me,” Richie choked. He looked up and there were tears in his eyes. Eddie’s heart lurched. His eyes drifted down, taking in the way Richie’s t-shirt was tight on his broad shoulders, the way it was so thin he could see the pink of his nipples and the black of his chest hair, and even lower than that more black, leading down… “Eddie?”

His head snapped up, heat crawling down his chest. “I-“ He took a moment to regain his thoughts. “I don’t hate you.”

“You sound very believable,” Richie snarked, falling back down onto the bed. “Now that we’ve had this shitty conversation, can you please just leave?”

He was trying to sound unbothered, even verging on annoyed, but Eddie could hear the hurt underneath. He didn’t know how he felt, but he knew he hated to hear Richie sound like that. Gathering his resolve, he found a pair of pajama pants in his luggage and marched back into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He made short work of dropping the towel and dressing, ignoring the way his hands were shaking.

He'd never thought of another man like that. The way Richie seemingly thought about him. He’d never –

But that was a lie, and he knew it.

He had thought, he’d just ignored it. Even though he’d told Myra he wasn’t coming home, she was still technically his wife. And for his entire life, he’d technically been a straight man.

(Straight men don’t want a better look at their male best friend’s happy trail, his brain told him, and he shut his eyes tightly to try and make the mental image go away.)

So he occasionally spent a little too long looking at other men. And he occasionally thought of strong thighs and broad shoulders and low groans when he got off. But it wasn’t…

He thought back to childhood. Had he felt like this about Richie then, too? He remembered how close they had been, physically. Had he been leading Richie on, all those times he climbed into the hammock with him? All the sleepovers where they shared a twin bed? The movie nights where he hid his head in Richie’s shoulder during the scary parts?

Was it leading someone on if you wanted it, too?

What if you didn’t even know you wanted it?

Did he want it?

He didn’t notice he had begun to wheeze loudly until there were two knocks on the bathroom door. He jumped, gasping for breath he didn’t have. He felt dizzy.

“Eds? Are you okay in there?”

There was concern in Richie’s voice, none of the hurt from before. Eddie yanked the door open to find Richie standing on the other side, his worried look exactly how Eddie had pictured it.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” he mumbled, stepping back so Eddie had room to get through the doorway without getting too close. Eddie didn’t move. He tried to breathe in deeply, gripping onto the door handle. “I didn’t mean to freak you out-“

“Can you help me?” He asked, interrupting Richie’s apology. Before he could answer, Eddie went on. “When I – When I breathe, can you count? Slow; 4 in, hold for 4, out for 4?”

He wasn’t sure if Richie could even understand what he was saying, but Richie was nodding, grabbing his hand and leading him to the bed. Once he was sitting he closed his eyes against the dizziness and gasped for air, ignoring the tears that leaked out the side of his closed eyelids.

Richie’s voice was quiet as he counted. It took a few minutes before Eddie was breathing on time with Richie’s count without his chest feeling deflated, and it was only then he realized they were holding hands. With his free hand, he wiped the stray tears from his face. Once he felt like he could speak again, he turned to Richie.

“Panic attack,” he whispered. “Not asthma. Myra always just made me use my inhaler but… I saw a therapist, for a little bit. Right before the wedding. She taught me how to… How to make it stop, without it.”

“Why would she still think you needed your inhaler if it’s not asthma?” Richie asked, keeping his voice at the same quiet level as Eddie’s.

Eddie huffed a laugh. “Because it makes me weak. She likes me weak.”

“Eds, you’re not weak. You’re probably the bravest of all of us.”

He shook his head. Richie didn’t say anything else, just sat next to him while he focused on keeping his breathing even. He didn’t want to think about Myra, or about the kinds of things you need to be brave for. 

Richie was still holding his hand, and he let his eyes wander his direction, past where their hands lay in between them and to Richie’s legs, bare in just his boxers.

He’d never paid much attention to his own legs, or really the legs of other men. It wasn’t something that had crossed his mind-

(except maybe it had, when he was younger and laying in a hammock, but it wasn’t really about legs then, was it? It was about skin, the electricity he felt on days they both wore shorts)

-except in his dreams, the fantasies he pretended he didn’t have, the ones where thick, hairy thighs were wrapped around him, around his waist, around his head, on either side of his own – and he pretended not to think about what was in between, either, how lightheaded he felt when he got fucked up enough to really let himself think about it, to think about what was inside Richie’s boxers-

(but it wasn’t Richie’s cock he dreamed about (wasn’t it, though?) when he took enough of those anxiety meds that his filter turned off)

-and he could see it now, at least the outline, where thin material didn’t do enough to hide what was inside.

He was breathing too quickly again.

“Eddie-“

“You need to put pants on,” he choked out, taking in a deep breath.

Richie stood up immediately but Eddie couldn’t look at him as he spoke, embarrassment evident in his voice. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it – I – fuck, I swear I’m not – I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable-“

“It’s just-“ He sucked in another deep breath, clenching his fists. His mouth started moving without his permission. “It’s – It’s hard to have a fucking gay crisis when your legs and your – your fucking dick are right there and I want-“ he closed his eyes when he heard Richie’s breath hitch. “I just… want. And I can’t have because the second I do I’m – I can’t – It’s wrong, Richie. It’s wrong, right?”

Richie had put on a pair of sweatpants while he was talking, and now he knelt next to Eddie, making sure to keep some distance between them. His face was red, and Eddie could tell his breaths were harsher than normal, could see his hands clenched into fists. But he didn’t say anything, just looked at Eddie, who choked out a sob. “Help me,” he begged, though he wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking for. He just wanted, and he needed that to be okay.

“It’s not wrong, Eds,” Richie finally said. His voice cracked. One hand came up to rest on the mattress next to where Eddie sat. “I know it – it was fucking hard growing up when we did, right? Getting called names and listening to people talk about AIDS like it was punishment, and even now, hearing all the bullshit from people who swear it’s all a sin, like it’s something we chose. But we didn’t, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong, and if you… If you choose to act on it, you’re still not doing anything wrong.”

“How do you know we won’t go to Hell?” Eddie whispered, grasping the comforter in his hands. He felt young, like a child asking for reassurance, but he was trapped in his own mind, trapped in the church he went to as a kid, where taking the bread was an act of courage every day, because God was going to know somehow, and He’d come right into the church and damn him straight to Hell.

“I don’t, really,” Richie answered. Eddie looked at him, helplessly. “But I think… You go to Hell for doing bad shit, right? For being a bad person. But there’s nothing – there’s nothing bad about love. I’m not doing anything bad by loving you.”

“What about sex? That’s – that’s the bad part, right? Love is great and whatever, but when it’s sex…”

“That’s not bad, either,” Richie promised. Eddie jolted when he grabbed one of his hands, uncurling his fingers from the blanket. “It’s natural and normal. But I don’t – I really don’t know what else to say, Eds. The whole religion thing was never a major issue for me. That’s probably more suited for like, intense therapy.”

Eddie nodded jerkily, laughing a little and squeezing Richie’s hand.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, “for talking me down. You were always the one that took care of me.”

“Yeah, well,” Richie shrugged, voice still soft. “I love you, so I’m gonna take care of you no matter what.”

Eddie wanted to tell him, wanted to say he loved him, too, but the words stuck in his throat.

“I’ll always let you take care of me,” he said instead, and hoped Richie understood what he meant.

“What are you going to do next? With – As far as, you know, your marriage?”

Eddie sighed. “She already knows I’m not coming home, but… I still have a job in New York. I guess I’ll have to find an apartment. I don’t know. And you’re right, I should go back to therapy, because I clearly have some shit to work out.”

Richie nodded. “I don’t think there’s a single one of us that doesn’t need to go to therapy weekly for the rest of our lives.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t know how well a therapist would take it if you walked in and started talking about how you fought and killed an evil alien clown.”

Richie laughed. “Eh, I’ll write it into a stand-up routine instead. Comedy is basically therapy, anyway.”

“No,” Eddie said, vaguely alarmed, though still amused. Richie was grinning at him. “No, Richie. It’s important to me that you understand joking about your trauma onstage to a bunch of strangers is not the same as therapy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Richie said, waving him off. He crawled backward until he was leaning against the pillows again, the same way he’d been when Eddie had gotten out of the shower. The bed was big enough that if Eddie were to lay next to him, they wouldn’t be touching. He thought about it. “And if you want, I have an apartment in the city. I’m not there very often, I spend most of my time in LA or on tour, but. There’s two more bedrooms than I need and… I mean, we could split rent or whatever. Even if it’s just til you find a place for yourself.”

Eddie looked at him. He wasn’t avoiding eye contact, but he wasn’t making an effort to look at Eddie, either. His hands were folded on his chest again.

“Okay,” Eddie agreed, taking a leap and situating himself next to Richie on the bed. His head hit the pillow and he sighed. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about how close Richie was. He fell asleep to the soothing sound of Richie’s even breaths, and when he woke he felt more rested than he had in years.

[deafhard-blog]

How much controversial is Gus Kenworthy’s Olympic Kiss?

New Post https://obodoinfo.co/much-controversial-gus-kenworthys-olympic-kiss/

How much controversial is Gus Kenworthy’s Olympic Kiss?

On a Sunday morning pretty much like today, I woke up to a telephone call from HuffPost’s National Editor illuminating me that a solitary shooter at Pulse dance club in Orlando, Florida, killed 49 individuals, the vast majority of them strange ethnic minorities.

A couple of hours after the fact, amid the frantic chase for a thought process that takes after each apparently silly outrage like the one that unfurled in those early June hours, the attacker’s dad told correspondents that his was child “very angry” at seeing two men kissing a long time before the shooting, saying that could have been a piece of his child’s rationale.

Shattered, maddened and searching for some approach to process what had happened, I composed a piece contending that notwithstanding the triumphs the LGBTQ people group had secured as of late, a gay kiss ― even in 2016 ― was as yet thought about a shocking, frightening sight for an excessive number of individuals. I additionally contended that it was, in light of that devastatingly calming actuality, totally basic for eccentric individuals to keep kissing at whatever point and wherever they could.

Others felt likewise, and HuffPost Queer Voices propelled a #KeepKissing hashtag via web-based networking media that soon included a great many eccentric and non-strange individuals gladly kissing same-sexual orientation accomplices, companions, associates and even outsiders. The crusade made an impression on the two partners and foes that this basic, delightful show of adoration may in any case be viewed as appalling by an excessive number of individuals ― and was in this manner still a hazardous open act ― be that as it may, regardless of the genuine and conceivably perilous results that could take after even the most guiltless of presentations of love, we would not be embarrassed; we would be incapacitated by our dread and we would not quit kissing.

At the beginning of today I woke up to a photograph of Olympic skier Gus Kenworthy kissing his beau before a qualifying keep running in Sunday’s slopestyle occasion in Pyeongchang, South Korea:

I, obviously, had an altogether different response to seeing this photograph than I did to the news I got right around two years prior; however after my underlying elation died down, I really wanted to think how shocking regardless it is to see two men kissing out in the open.

In some ways, tragically, it might be considerably more staggering than it was in 2016 considering the America we’re attempting to comprehend at the present time: a nation that, out of the blue since the beginning of GLAAD’s Accelerating Acceptance contemplate four years prior, is allegedly encountering a “quick and disturbing” drop in general acknowledgment of LGBTQ individuals. The report additionally found a “noteworthy” increment in the quantity of eccentric individuals who have been victimized due to their sexual introduction or sex character.

Significantly additionally aggravating, there has been a 400 percent expansion in detest propelled murders against cisgender strange, gay, and swinger people from 2016 to 2017, as per the National Coalition of Anti-Violence Programs. Then, brutality against transgender ladies of shading keeps on expanding, and awful features portraying lethal assaults on dark lesbians and their families got the new year.

This news, while stunning, shouldn’t shock considering who is in the White House and what has happened in the most recent year. Since coming into office, President Donald Trump and his organization have revoked securities for eccentric individuals, named destructively against strange judges and government officials and transparently upheld ― or, sometimes, even pushed for ― hostile to LGBTQ talk on a national scale, all of which has made the effectively dangerous presence of being strange in America much more hazardous as we walk further and advance into Trump’s administration.

It’s now officially illegal to pay man more than women in Iceland

Which is the reason pictures like the one of Kenworthy and his beau are more imperative than any other time in recent memory ― and not simply in America but rather in such a significant number of parts of the world where being strange is viewed as degenerate, criminal or even deserving of death.

The evidently spontaneous kiss (his sweetheart tongue in cheek demanded “if I’d have known it was a big deal, I’d have made out with him””) is only the most recent move by Kenworthy, who, alongside kindred Olympian and companion Adam Rippon, has utilized the Olympics as a chance to oppose the counter strange talk leaving the Trump organization, particularly from Vice President Mike Pence, who went to the opening of the 2018 Winter Games.

“To be able to do that, to give [my boyfriend] a kiss, to have that affection broadcast to the world, is incredible,” Kenworthy said. “The only way to really change perceptions, to break down barriers, break down homophobia, is through representation. That’s definitely not something I had as a kid. I never saw a gay athlete kissing their boyfriend at the Olympics. I think if I had, it would’ve made it easier for me.”

@guskenworthy: Didn’t realize this moment was being filmed yesterday but I’m so happy that it was. My childhood self would never have dreamed of seeing a gay kiss on TV at the Olympics but for the first time ever a kid watching at home CAN! Love is love is love.

And keeping in mind that Kenworthy and Rippon would presumably contend that they are just being precisely their identity when they aren’t contending ― or under the spotlight ― on the world stage, their utilization of these chances to create an impression (even unwittingly) have been out and out exciting and matter like never before.

As much as I anticipate the day when eccentric kisses can be as ho-murmur and objective as non-strange kisses; as long as regardless they aren’t, we should keep on keeping kissing, recounting our stories and being whoever we are at whatever point conceivable without offering reasons or expressions of remorse ― not exclusively to demonstrate our foes that in spite of our exceptionally legitimate feelings of trepidation, we won’t be threatened into hush and aren’t going anyplace, yet in addition with the expectation that it may startle even one eccentric individual into understanding that there could be a place for them on the planet where they can move past the effectively debilitating every day assignment of just surviving and can really secure a life for their self loaded with everything ― from genuinely measure up to rights to a speedy peck the lips ― that make life worth living.