leaning on each other

I’ve been contemplating for several days something, and I’ve been trying to distill it into meaning, and put nice little bullet points on how this relates to things that have been bugging me about some common Discourses I’ve been seeing, but at the end, I only really have a story. So here, have a story.

About ten years ago, sometime in the eventful 2006-2007 George W. Bush-ruled hellscape of my identity development, I was just starting to figure out how I felt about my conservative upbringing (not great) and whether I was some brand of queer (probably, but too scared to think about what brand for too long). I was working as a server at a popular Italian-inspired sit-down restaurant that was the closest thing my tiny South Carolinian town had to “fancy” at the time but isn’t really fancy at all.

The host brought a party of four men to one of my tables. It was hard to tell their ages, but my guess is they were teenagers or in their early 20s in the 1980s. Mid-40s, at the time. It was standard to ask if anyone at the table was celebrating anything, so I did. They said they were business partners celebrating a great business deal and would like a bottle of wine.

It was a fairly busy night so I didn’t have a LOT of time to spend at their table, but they were nice guys. They were polite and friendly to me, they didn’t hit on me (as most men were prone to do – sometimes even in front of their girlfriends, a story I’ll tell later if anyone wants me to), and they were racking up a hell of a tab that was going to make my managers happy, so I checked on them as often as I could.

Toward the end of their second bottle of wine, as they were finishing their entrees, I stopped at the table and asked if they wanted any more drinks or dessert or coffee. They were well and truly tipsy by now, giggling, leaning back in their chairs – but so, so careful not to touch each other when anyone was near the table.

They’re all on the fence about dessert, so being a good server, I offered to bring out the dessert menu so they could glance it over and make a decision, “Since you’re celebrating.”

“She’s right!” one of the men said, far too emphatically for a conversation on dessert. “It’s your anniversary! You should get dessert!”

It was like a movie. The whole table went absolutely silent. The clank of silverware at the next table sounded supernaturally loud. Dean Martin warbled “That’s Amore” in some distorted alternate universe where the rest of the restaurant went on acting like this one tipsy man hadn’t just shattered their carefully crafted cover story and blurted out in the middle of a tiny, South Carolina town, surrounded by conservatives and rednecks, that they were gay men celebrating a relationship milestone. 

And I didn’t know what I was yet, but I knew I wasn’t an asshole, and I knew these men were family, and I felt their panic like a monster breathing down all our necks. It’s impossible to emphasize how palpably terrified they were, and how justified their terror was, and how much I wanted them to be happy.

So I did the only thing I knew to do. I said, “Congratulations! How many years?”

The man who’d spoken up burst into tears. His partner stood up and wrapped me in the tightest, warmest hug I’ve ever had – and I’ve never liked being touched by strangers, but this was different, and I hugged him back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, halfway to crying himself. “Thank you so much.”

When he finally let go of me and sat back down, they finally got around to telling me they were, in fact, two couples on a double date, and both celebrating anniversaries. Fifteen years for one of them, I think, and a few years off for the other. It’s hard to remember. It was a jumble of tears and laughter and trembling relief for all of us. They got more relaxed. They started holding hands – under the table, out of sight of anyone but me, but happy.

They did get dessert, and I spent more time at their table, letting them tell me stories about how they met and how they started dating and their lives together, and feeling this odd sense of belonging, like I’d just discovered a missing branch of my family.

When they finally left, all four of them took turns standing up and hugging me, and all four of them reached into their wallets to tip me. I tried to wave them off but they insisted, and the first man who’d hugged me handed me forty dollars and said, “Please. You are an angel. Please take this.”

After they left I hid in the bathroom and cried because I couldn’t process all my thoughts and feelings.

Fast forward to three days ago, when my own partner and I showed up to a dinner reservation at a fancy-casual restaurant to celebrate our fifth anniversary. The whole time I was getting ready to leave, there was a worry in the back of my mind. The internet web form had asked if the reservation was celebrating anything in particular, and I’d selected “Anniversary.” I stood in the bathroom blow-drying my hair, wondering what I would do if we showed up, two women, and the host or the server took one look at us and the “Anniversary” designation on our reservation and refused to serve us. It’s not as ubiquitous anymore, but we’re still in the south, and these things still happen. Eight years of progressive leadership is over, and we’ve got another conservative despot in office who’s emboldening assholes everywhere.

It was on my mind the whole fifteen minutes it took to drive there. I didn’t mention it to my partner because I didn’t want to cast a shadow over the occasion. More than that, I didn’t want to jinx us, superstitious bastard that I am.

We walked into the restaurant. I told the hostess we had a reservation, gave her my last name.

She looked at her screen, then looked back at us. She smiled, broadly and genuinely, and said, “Happy anniversary! Your table is right this way.”

Our server greeted us, said, “I heard you were celebrating!”

“It’s our anniversary,” Kellie said, and our server gasped, beaming.

“That’s great! Congratulations! How many years?”

And I finally breathed a sigh of relief, and I thought about those men at that restaurant ten years ago. I hope they’re still safe and happy, and I hope we all get the satisfaction of helping the world keep blooming into something that’s not so unrelentingly terrible all the time.

@jenniferpierced/ @irohed i was your secret santa for @antisvldexchange !!!!! here’s some klance first kiss for ya! (bonus thing under the cut 👀)

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everyone come look at this BEAUTIFUL commission I got from @flurgburgler right now please!!!! 

We're Already Married

So, I am supposed to be working on a chapter of a story and an angsty oneshot. But this fluffy drabble had to be written. It just had to.
——–


               “Draco, we need to talk.” Lucius told his son firmly as he and Narcissa walked into the room.

                “Mhm. Go ahead.” Came the little three-year-old’s distracted voice.

                Lucius rolled his eyes before stepping behind his son and peering down. “What in heaven’s name is that?”

                That had Narcissa circling the table and looking at her son’s face. His tongue was peeking out of his lips, eyes were narrowed in concentration while brows were furrowed and he seemed to be drawing something on a spare piece of parchment. She blinked uncertainly at the pure disaster of scribbles that were everywhere. If it wasn’t supposed to be a ball of rubbish, she honestly had no idea what her son was attempting to draw.

                “It’s Dobby. Can’t you tell?” Draco looked up with a wobbly lip and sad eyes as he pointed across the room to the house elf. As if the thought of it not looking like Dobby was a disaster.

                Lucius looked over for the first time and noted that the elf was in an odd pose with an apple balancing on his forehead.

                At his arched brows, Dobby hurried to explain. “Master Draco asked Dobby to be his muse.”

                “Is that so?” Lucius drawled with a heavy sigh. “Draco, you can’t order Dobby to play with you.”

                “Why not?”  

                Patience was not Lucius’ strong suit. He looked to the ceiling briefly before shaking his head. “We will have this conversation at a later date. There are more important things to discuss.”

                Draco hummed a little before looking up with wide eyes. “Am I in twouble? If so, Dobby did it.”

                A soft surprised noise emitted from the elf and Narcissa couldn’t help but laugh lightly. “No, you aren’t in trouble and don’t blame Dobby for things he didn’t do.”

                “Sowwy.” Draco apologized as he looked down at his hands.

                “Sorry.” Lucius corrected. For some reason, pronouncing R’s were hard for his son.

                Draco’s brows were pinched in confusion. “That’s what I said.”

                “No, you said—” Lucius paused as he decided to let it go. “Nevermind. What I have been trying to tell you is that we have come to discuss a pureblood tradition with you.”

                That had Draco’s expression souring. “No thanks.”

                Narcissa covered her mouth as she tried muffling her laughter. Salazar, she loved her son.

                “Draco.” The hard tone of his voice had his son straightening up and giving him a serious look. Finally.

                “When you come of age, you will be drawn into a marriage contract. This is something that most purebloods do and it is a standing tradition of the Malfoy family.” Lucius shot is wife a look when she crossed her arms. He knew that she didn’t agree and wanted Draco to find his own spouse but that wasn’t the plan.

                “I’m alweady mawried.” Draco interrupted excitedly!

                Lucius blinked rapidly. “You want to run that by me again?”

                “Hawwy asked me to mawwy him today! I said I would if he let me have his pudding. He did!”

                “And who pray tell is Hawwy?” Lucius shuddered at the pronunciation.

                “Hawwy is my best fwriend. He has pwetty eyes and he said I do too! We are mawried.”

                Narcissa smirked at her husband. “You hear that? He’s already married. Looks like that marriage contract is moot.”

                “Narcissa, you can’t possibly—”

                She stood up rapidly, holding out her hand for her son to take. “I can and I will. You want to explain to your son why he can’t marry his best friend? Because if so, you can deal with the aftermath.”

                Draco looked between them rapidly. “But…” His eyes filled with tears. “We alweady mawried.” The sniffle he released had Lucius closing his eyes. “Tomorrow’s the anni- anniver-” He scrunched up his nose as he looked to Narcissa for help.

                “Anniversary?” She offered picking him up and holding him close.

                Draco nodded rapidly as he wiped his eyes. “Yes. I want to give him a gift.”

                Narcissa smiled softly. “How about we go see if we can have one of the house elves cook him something. What kind of desserts does he like?”

                “Tweacle tawrt.”

                Lucius watched his wife and son walk out of the room with a shake of his head. He looked over and noticed that Dobby was still in the same awful pose. “Cease that at once.”

                When the elf let out a noise of relief, Lucius rolled his eyes. “What are the chances that I’ll get my way in the end?”

                He knew that Dobby couldn’t lie to him, so he was interested in hearing the response.

                The *pop* of the elf’s departure was heard and it had Lucius putting his face in his hands. “That’s what I was afraid of.”


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quality things in the bmc bootleg

- jeremy rapidly squirting more lotion into his hand

- dONt tOuCh mE T A L L A S S

- everyone dancing in class and just getting down while jeremy sings

- JEREMY AND MICHAELS HANDSHAKE OH MY GOD

- CHRISTINE. JUST. EVERYTHING THAT CHRISTINE DID AND HOW EXAGGERATED HER MOVEMENTS WERE

- michaels dancing

- WHEN CHRISTINE GETS LIFTED UP TO SIGN THE SIGNUP SHEET

- I LOVE PLAY REHEARSAL. ONCE AGAIN I LOVE YOU CHRISTINE YOURE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE

- rich’s lisp

- r i c h ‘ s l i s p

- RICH’S LISP

- rich lifting up his shirt

- rich’s dancing

- ITS FROM JAPAAAAAAAAN

- i love rich

- TWO! PLAYER! GAME!

- MICHAEL AND JEREMY LEANING INTO EACH OTHER

- THIS HAPPENED EARLIER BUT MICHAELS EXPRESSION DURING THE BOYF RIENDS SCENE

- F A V O U W I T E P E R S O N

- the guy selling the squips was hilarious and i secretly want him to he mr reyes because the way he spoke was so dramatic and funny

- i think i just wasted my bar mitzvah money on a wintergreen tic tac

- JEREMYS FREAKOUT!!!!!! AAAA!!!

- WHEN THE SQUIP APPEARED AT THE END AND I FELT MY HEART EXPLODE

- THE WHOLE BOOT IN GENERAL IM CRYING FEEL FREE TO ADD ON

can’t believe we’re here, at a point where dan posts a video like That to his main channel, the one with the quality threshold, the one where every video is deliberate and intentional and Important™ and meaningful for him. and here we are with a video where phil comes on with no introduction, no ‘glamorous assistant,’ no nothing, just .. phil … bc who else would it be at this point, starring alongside dan? a video consisting of 25 minutes of them being liTeRaLLy conjoined, shirtless under their sweaters, 25 minutes of sex jokes, 25 minutes of fond staring and occupying each others’ spaces, of leaning on each other figuratively and literally, of talking about their shared kitchen, their shared cereals, their shared home, their shared life. the casual depression and anxiety jokes, the casual ‘husband material’ and jokes about fucking a cartoon boy from dan, the casual surfing nsfw reddit and ‘pain in my ass’ and staring at dan’s mouth and calling frankenstein sexy from phil,, the casual EVERYTHING .. im just like totally lost for words? and as if that wasn’t enough, dan going out of his way to give phil a personalized little title on the end card bubble, referring to him as his literal other half … he didn’t need to do that. he knew what it sounds like, how everyone would interpret it, and he did it anyway :( this video was a blessing … idek how to process it 

steve falling for you [headcanon]

Originally posted by jyncassian


Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Summary: Steve finally meets you after dropping off Dustin after the Snow Ball.


  • Dustin talked about you
  • a lot
  • you were his role model to be honest.
  • Steve never believed anything Dustin says
  • you’ll like her dude! she’s amazing!”
  • how come I’ve never even seen this ‘so-called’ sister, dickwad?
  • I dunno.”
  • you know everything there is to know about the events involving Upside-Down.
  • (you were the kids’ home base)
  • So you’re a bit shaken up due to the events that have just happened (#season2)
  • (you were Hopper’s second-in-command this time)
  • but you feel okay letting Dustin go out because you know how Steve was involved and you know that he’ll protect that dipshit
  • anyways
  • you open the door, mouth full of mashed potatoes
  • in one hand is a fork
  • in the other, a bowl of KFC mashed potatoes d o u s e d in gravy.
  • Steve has a hand on Dustin’s shoulder
  • and that dork is hardcore staring at you
  • (like jaw dropped, wide-eyed staring)
  • and he leans down and whispers in Dustin’s ear: “damn”
  • Dustin’s all like: “dude, chill. that’s my sister.”
  • he then proceeds to thank Steve for all the help and the ride before walking inside
  • you ruffle his hair and smile
  • and Steve swears his heart does some weird jumpy thing.
  • you then turn back to the door, arching an eyebrow
  • “…yes?”
  • Steve stutters.
  • homeboy actually stutters.
  • u-u-uh I see you have KFC! I uh- I love KFC. best chicken ever right?”
  • you stare at him for a while, before…
  • yeah, I guess. I don’t know, I’m a vegetarian.”
  • and you promptly shut the door in his face.
  • Steve stands there for a few minutes
  • (more like ten)
  • he just can’t understand why he’s so awestruck by you
  • the next day at school, he notices you
  • and of course, you’re friends with Jonathan Byers
  • Steve quietly curses him out before approaching him
  • hey Byers!”
  • Uh, what’s up…steve?”
  • meanwhile, Steve is just staring at you
  • jonathan notices, obviously
  • Nancy notices too
  • and they hatch a plan
  • they start to subtly bring up Steve a lot
  • so does Dustin
  • Jonathan and Nancy have roped him in to their plan
  • (he’s all for it, I mean, his sister and his mentor??? yes!)
  • you ignore them at first
  • but then you begin to notice how soft Steve’s hair looks
  • and how his eyes really do seem to sparkle in the dull, unflattering cafeteria lights.
  • and have his lips always looked that soft???
  • you start to realize that you may have a tiny, miniscule crush on Steve Harrington.
  • so you do the only logical thing
  • you act completely indifferent towards him
  • there’s no way you’re going to change the way you act towards him
  • if he likes you, its gonna be for you.
  • soon enough, Mike, Lucas, and Will also join in
  • they always want the two of you to babysit during their campaigns
  • (mostly because you’ll join in)
  • and Steve will just watch bc
  • aw you’re such a dork and he can’t believe that he likes you this much
  • eventually the night winds down to a juvenile game of truth or dare
  • (you’re dared to mess up Steve’s hair)
  • so he has to lean in towards you in order for you to be able to reach
  • and the kids are in awe
  • like, he’s willingly letting you mess with his hair.
  • you and Steve are pretty close together
  • and you kind of stop running your hands through his hair
  • you both subconsciously start leaning in closer
  • Steve’s eyes are drawn to your lips
  • it about to happen
  • until
  • just kiss already, god!”
  • you spring apart
  • shut up dipshit!”
  • cue the kids all slapping Dustin for ruining the moment
  • it starts getting pretty late
  • so you and Dustin gots to go
  • the kids (except Mike) are getting their bikes
  • Steve comes up to you at the doorway and grabs your wrist gently
  • hey (Y/N)?”
  • “yeah?”
  • I just…I uh- well you see…I just wanted to-”
  • you’re kind of just standing there, waiting for him to get to the point.
  • well uh- its better if I just show you.”
  • so Steve pulls you in and captures your lips with his, kissing you slowly
  • (you waste no time in kissing back)
  • you pull away at the same time bc y’know…
  • air
  • y’all need air.
  • and you guys are just smiling at each other so dorkily
  • (awwwww)
  • Steve leans down for another kiss
  • you break apart because the kids start cheering too loudly
  • “finally!”
  • thank god you finally grew some balls!”
  • “at least we won’t have to hear him talk about her all the time anymore.”
  • hey Harrington! stop sucking face with my sister!”

Tags: @delicrieux, @broken-pieces.


Y’all help me out pls. What should I post next: a Bill Denbrough story, a Beverly Marsh one, a Jonathan Byers one, or a Mike Wheeler fic???

so how about them s3 spoilers,,

ok i had a whole comic idea for this but it didnt pan out well mostly because of my laziness and i wanted it to be really good and thought out but thats way too time consuming so heres a rough doodle instead rip

SO ANYWAY the idea was that one night keith cant sleep because hes too worried and miserable about shiros disappearance so he wanders out into the halls and finds pidge holed up somewhere typing away at her computer which is Normal for her since shes a night owl

at first its kinda awkward because pidge and keith arent exactly close but then pidge starts talking about shiro and how he was like a brother figure to her too and that she misses him too and knows how keith feels considering her own familys disappearance and soon theyre just sitting and talking about shiro and eventually keith asks pidge about matt and as the hours go by they start sharing dumb funny stories about their respective brothers (or surrogate brother in keiths case) and due to sleep deprivation they begin laughing loosely over every little story and tidbit through the night

the next morning the rest of the team finds keith and pidge sprawled out on the floor, leaning against each other, fast asleep

SORRY THIS GOT SO NEEDLESSLY LONG but on a completely unrelated note if you are at all interested my commissions are currently open lmao

Stripped Bare

Title: Stripped Bare

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Summary: The reader plays strip poker with Dean.

Characters: Demon!Dean Winchester x female reader

Word Count:  2801

Warnings:  canon typical violence, nsfw, explicit language, explicit sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex

Author’s Notes: Written for @deansdirtyduchess Birthday/1000 Follower celebration. My prompt was strip poker.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Originally posted by the-captain-destiel

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