#GIVE THE ANXIOUS QUEERS SOME PRIVACY

[arabella-strange]

p.s. Robbie's question last ep? Had this Yasha energy.

[julienbakerpls]

Happy Birthday Part 1

Julien Baker/Reader

requests - "ok! i was thinking i’ve seen this concept before but like a fic where it’s like a tattoo/piercing shop au and julien works there and pierces reader’s nipples or does a tattoo for her and then asks her out afterwards? and maybe reader has lower pain tolerance and is nervous about it so julien comforts her?"

"need julien saying good girl…"

It was your birthday and you have been hyping yourself up for this for the last year and now you were really going to do it. You booked and prepaid the piercing parlor where you were going to get your nipples pierced. You'd wanted to do this forever but kept putting it off because of how scared you were, and also how much anxiety the thought of taking off your shirt in front of a stranger filled you with.

But it was officially your birthday, and you'd already told your best friend that you were doing this. And honestly she scared you enough that you now kinda had to go through with it.

Your appointment was at 12pm today and it was currently, you paused to check the clock in your car. 11:45am. Okay so it was now or never.

You slowly climbed out of your car, making your way to the shop door. The place had been advertised as a very queer friendly place and that was proven true when you walked in and saw all the pride flags hanging up.

You walked over to the woman behind the counter, she had short black hair, was wearing red lipstick and she was stunning.

"Hi, um I have an appointment at 12 for some piercings?" you asked, feeling anxious and overall too embarrassed to say that you were getting your nipples pierced. She smiled kindly at you and told you that the piercer would be with you in a few minutes.

You attempted to make yourself comfortable in the small lounge area, but failed miserably.

"Y/n?" a voice called, you looked up to see a woman covered in tattoos with big brown eyes smiling at you.

"Yeah, yes sorry." You answered walking over to her. You were surprised to be a few inches taller than her, considering you were usually considered short.

"Alright, if you'll follow me then." She spoke softly and turned around motioning for you to follow her. You took a deep breath before entering the small room after her.

"Okay so i'm just going to lock the door for your privacy, and we can get started. It looks like your getting both nipples pierced?" She asked, looking up from her paperwork.

"Um yes yeah." You stuttered still not fully over how attractive she was.

"Alrighty, oh and it says it's your birthday today, Happy birthday! I'm Julien, I realized I forgot to introduce myself earlier, sorry." She said, making her way over to you and smiling shyly. You felt your stomach swoop, at her big smile.

"Y/n, but you know that already." You spoke, face turning red. She laughed a little reaching back to tie her hair back into a bun. You weren't expecting the physical reaction your body had to that simple everyday action.

"Okay, so you can take off your shirt and bra whenever your ready.." Julien smiled, turning around to give you privacy, but then she seemed to think better about it and turning back around since she'd have to see you shirtless anyways.

You laughed at her actions, before pulling your shirt over your head and reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. You watched the blush creep up her neck and into her cheeks, as she tried to get control of her features.

"Okay, so i'm just going to mark on both sides where the needle is going to go through okay?" Julien said using a toothpick with ink on it to mark both sides of your nipples.

"I have to get your nipples hard for me to be able to pierce them, this is completely not sexual or anything." Her face still slightly pink, but over all completely serious. She helped you lay down on the bench, moving so she was leaning over you. She tugged on your left nipple, her face completely focused on her task. You had to close your eyes, and try to calm yourself down, chanting over and over in your head that this was her job and not sexual in any way.

"Okay, take a deep breath in and release it when I tell you to okay?" Julien asked, smiling down at you. You nodded and she signaled for you to take a deep breath in, you felt the needle against your nipple.

"Breathe out for me." Julien said, you did as instructed, and she pushed the needle through your left nipple.

"Good girl." She spoke softly, screwing the piercing closed.

"Mmmmm fuuuuck." You groaned out, tears filling your eyes.

"Hey hey you did so good for me." Julien soothed you.

"That hurt so much more than I thought it would." You said in almost a whine, your pain tolerance being almost nonexistent.

"Okay one more, deep breath in..... and out." She said in a quiet but firm voice, pushing the needle through.

"Ow fuuuck" You cried, the tears falling from your eyes. Julien quickly grabbed a tissue for you, whipping under your eyes.

"You did so good, and it's over now!" She smiled down at you, moving to get a cotton swab to dab the blood away.

"It's over?" You asked, feeling anxious that you'd never be able to think of another reason to see her again.

"Yeah, you're all set. Just some ground rules, clean them twice a day until they're healed enough to stop getting those little crusts around them. Oh and don't let anyone suck on them or anything for at least 2 months." Julien said, patting your thigh.

"Oh okay, um do I like need to come back for you to check on them at all?" You asked hopefully.

"Not unless you want to, or think you might have an infection." she said with her back to you disposing of the used needles.

"And if I just want to see you.... specifically?" You asked hesitantly, putting your shirt back on. You watched as Julien froze, it was subtle but enough for you to notice and feel like you crossed a line.

"Unless you don't want that... it's fine, uh thank you for the piercings." You called out, swinging the door open and quickly making your way to the front desk to pay. You saw another client go back as soon as you made it to the lobby, sighing and pulling out your card to pay.

"Okay so the total is 150 with the cleaning spray, if you have any questions or concerns feel free to call us." The woman at the front desk smiled, handing you your bag as her phone dinged. She stopped what she was doing to read the message.

"Oh and um there's this bar, that's like right down the street called The Red Door, it's a super chill place to just go and have a few drinks. They also have live music... you should check it out... specifically on Friday nights." She smiled at you, as you started to make your way out the door.

"Yeah sure, Thank you!" You called over your shoulder, you were so anxious you could almost ignore the throbbing coming from your chest. As you climbed in your car you noticed that you left your favorite bra on the table in there, deciding it was now gone forever you started the car and drove home.

-Okay so part two will be better but i wanted to do a little time skip specifically 2 months... so the end is kinda angsty but i don't think y'all are ready for how smuty the next part will be... 🫣

[bitchlessdino]

TPC: Seungkwan and Jeonghan's friend swap Pt. 1

Full series

Pairing: Seungkwan x afab!reader

Genre: smut, mature themes

Word count: 4.7k

tags: awkward convos, mentions alcohol, shy!kwan, heavy pining, car sex, oral (give and receive), dirty talk, praise kink, pussy drunk!kwan, body worship, hair pulling, cum swallowing, squirting

Summary: Seungkwan likes Jeonghan's friend while Jeonghan is more than willing to be the perfect distraction to entertain Seungkwan's friend. Looks like they're switching besties for the night.

Please read on browser the app is being weird 😭

Tag list: @iwouldbangchan @1uvlywon

Seungkwan had every right to be nervous tonight. This would be the first time he was breathing the same air as you outside a campus setting and he couldn't be more terrified. He had tried curating the perfect ensemble, nothing too much, nothing too casual, and all paired with floral musk cologne to seal the deal. Yet despite all that effort, he’d still turn to his closest friend an irritable amount of times for a second opinion, probably curating sweat stains while he's at it.

“I’ve told you no for the 20th time didn’t I?”

“Yeah, I know," he mumbles through his nerves, "I just. I don’t want them to think I’m a total dork or loser.”

They roll their eyes before taking either side of his shoulder, attempting to shake the jitters out of him. “You are fine, don’t worry. Look, they’re right there just go talk to them.”

He spots you instantly just as they mention,  already talking amongst a crowd of people with a familiar figure standing beside you, slowly fading the smile that initially began to form.  “Shoot, they’re with Jeonghan. That guy can be so intimidating. I can't."

They furrow their brows, squinting in the man’s direction, “What, that Tim Burton character? He’s nothing, you're fine. Just walk up to them. Say hi, or something.”

Seungkwan shakes his head frantically, feeling anxious tingling in his hands. “No way, I will shit my pants with that guy around.”

“Then, I’ll distract him, hmm? So then you can talk to Y/n and have nothing to worry about.”

"Really," he ask, eyes sparkling in gratitude, "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course, I would. Now just focus on getting some privacy and I'll handle the rest."

Seungkwan took their word for it, seeing their reliability in progress as they scoop Jeonghan's attention away almost immediately, dragging him to a corner of that that Seungkwan couldn't even make out despite watching. That leaves you on your own, sipping on your beer while you hummed to the music absentmindedly. In little steps, he trudges toward your side, politely greeting you when you finally meet eyes as you both rest against the bar counter. "Hi."

"Hey," you nod.

And in an instant, silence for all to hear it, louder than any of the songs playing in the background. You leisurely drink the beer you were handed moments ago, quietly watching Seungkwan internally panic in the corner of your eyes. You anticipated the words to come out of his mouth next, clueless about what’s about to come next.

"Having a good time?" he finally asks.

To which, you shrug, "Just got here."

"Right. Of course."

It was like you were playing the quiet game from your adolescent years and somehow you were both winning. Both of you kept matching awkward expressions: the same tight-lip smile, scrunched-up eyes that feigned having a good time, and tense shoulders that didn't show any sign of going down. You couldn’t look more like strangers.

“So.”

“So.”

This was killing him. He had to say something. Anything.“So, how do you know the host?”

You politely grin. “They were in my calculus class, we traded notes sometimes. You go to our college too, don’t you? We took Queer and Gender studies together. Seungkwan.”

He nods excitedly, finally seeing this encounter go somewhere for the first time. “Yes, that’s how we know each other. So, how was that class for you?”

“Interesting, I guess. Good, educational. You?”

“Same, same.”

And then some more of that dreadful silence. For Seungkwan, this was the worse possible situation he could be in. Here he was, standing next to the person of his dreams, striking out entirely. He’s almost already planning his escape, looking for a scapegoat to quietly leave you alone without him looking like some loner freak that can’t talk to people without sweating buckets. Maybe it was better off that it ended at that. One painfully clumsy conversation at a party neither of you will remember again. Yeah, he wouldn’t have to remember this again, when in fact he knew it’d be all that he’d remember for months. The moment he failed before he could even try.

“So” your awkward chuckles breaking out between every deafening silence, “obviously this is going…swimmingly. I thought it might be good to point out I don’t really go to parties. Just thought I would go since I was invited and Jeonghan really wanted any excuse to drink, so, sorry for not providing the most stimulating conversation.”

Seungkwan shakes his head reassuringly, somewhat relieved that he wasn’t alone. “I don’t really party much either.”

“I kinda got that.” You laugh warmly.

“Sorry.” Seungkwan laughs along.

“Well, at least neither of us is awkward alone.”

Seungkwan feels himself loosen up, relaxing his smile after seeing yours. He looks at you you finish and tosses away the can from the corner of his eyes before conjuring up that you perhaps wouldn’t mind. “True, could be worse. But if you want…Maybe you wanted to get out of here? There’s a pretty cliff that overlooks the city not far off from here.”

You scoff, brows furrowing in feigned suspicion. “Not gonna lie…Sounds like the beginning of a murder.”

His eyes shoot open, putting out his hands to shake in front of himself defensively. “I swear it isn’t.”

“That’s exactly what a murderer would say.” You lightheartedly point out.

“I’d say trust me but that doesn’t sound exactly reassuring either, huh?”

God, your laugh was infectious and your smile was impossible for anyone to emulate. If he could serve it on a platter, he's had it as a last meal, and all because of him. He almost couldn't believe it, you found him funny. 

“You know what, I'll take my chances. I weighed my options: I either have a great time or hey, I’ll be famous on the news of my death. Maybe. So you driving?”

Seungkwan, only having a faint idea at the time, would be wrapped around your finger more than he already had been. How he was gonna make it to the scenic location in one piece behind the wheel, he had no idea. His hands trembling to clutch on, his eyes tried to stay glued on the road in front of him but were unable to rest the pounding, almost audible, heart rate from his chest. You were a mere foot away from him with the console in between, radiating heat that he couldn’t help but fixate on. 

Throughout the entire ride, he is just conscious of your presence humming along to the song on the radio under your breath. He didn’t have to look back to know how nice you smell: a mixture of cinnamon, cardamom, perhaps vanilla; or know whatever you wore held up in the right places, clinging to your body like a second skin, because he already memorized it the second he saw you. He only knew you from a distance, and now an awkward encounter, but for him, this didn’t feel like some normal crush. It has evolved into infatuation, and if he’s not careful, obsession.

"And here we are!" Seungkwan unbuckles his seat as quickly as he could to finally get out of the car, catching his breath.

"Wow, you were not kidding. You can see our whole town from here!”

You follow right after him to stand by the cliff, seeing the streetlights and bright signs of local businesses blink in in midst of the dark air, flurries of pedestrians coming in and out of each of them. You take in the sights despite having lived here all your life, seeing how different it is from this high up. There was nothing quite like this you’ve ever seen. Seungkwan glances back at you, soon enough remembering a blanket he left behind in the back seat. He goes to retrieve it, your eyes not tearing away from the sky, and only notices his return when to spread it out on the grass. "Here. Sit."

"Thanks," you pop a squat next to him, returning your view to the bustle of the busy streets, "you take a lot of people out here?"

"Not really," he protests, " I just like to come up here sometimes in overwhelming situations--" this overwhelming situation he happened to bring along with him "--It's usually a private place for me and my thoughts."

You watch him from the corner of your eyes, peering at him curiously. "So, why bring me?"

"Thought you would appreciate it."

You hum at that, not suspecting such a simple answer but give him a look of gratitude nonetheless. You share the sky together in silence, a healthy distance in between. It's funny, the silence was all he worried about at the party previously but now he could finally bask in it. He was even finding it soothing for a change. It was just you, him, the city, and the wind. You blink up at the air in admiration, breath taken away by the sights and the untold stories they hold, a movie-eques scene right in the town you reside in. “Wow.”

“Isn’t it?”

Seungkwan kept this place to himself for a long time before deciding to invite you. There was nothing like the view from up here that could compare to anything he’s ever seen better…until he caught a glimpse of you basking in the night sky. He couldn’t imagine a more perfect night.

“The stars are actually really pretty tonight. Probably better because we’re further away from the city’s pollution.” You chuckle to yourself.

Seungkwan wasn't familiar with that kind of humor typically, but at the moment found it pleasant, endearing even. They were signs of you opening up to him. Before he knew it, he was speaking his own mind, thinking if there was a time to do it, it’d be now. “Well, I think you’re prettier, even in the polluted air.”

You turn to him slowly in thought, an unreadable expression on your face, causing Seungkwan to regret even breathing in your direction. “…was that supposed to work like a pickup line?”

His mouth drops to respond, words breaking apart in his brain for sentences long enough to finally stammer, “I was gonna stop at ‘you’re prettier than the stars,’ but it felt wrong to ignore your commentary on pollution.”

You take a moment to process his answer before bursting out into laughter, cupping your hand over your mouth. Seungkwan slowly starts to laugh with you, building up his awkward smiles into full-on chuckles seeing the sincerity in your smile. “You’re a lot funnier than when you put out Seungkwan. Really thought you were all looks.”

His eyes shoot open, falling in disbelief. Were you being for real right now? “You thought I only had looks to offer? You’re kidding.”

You give him a sheepish smile, “Sorry, that sounded offensive now that I say it out loud.”

“Oh! Not that. Um, did you just indirectly call me good-looking?”

You roll your eyes, amused that he was making you repeat yourself, thinking it was an attempt to inflate his ego. As if he didn’t already know. “Well, it wasn’t indirectly.”

That left Seungkwan blushing, timidly playing with the tip of his fingers like a flustered schoolboy before clearing his throat, and containing himself. He tries relaxing back on the ground, laughing off your comment, drawing your attention. "Wow, that one beer is really hitting you right now."

You snicker. "I'm totally sober now.”

Seungkwan swallows down his drool, almost drowning in your watchful eyes. Your wolfish grin settles on your lips only getting closer to him when you realize he questions you with utter sincerity. Your hooded gaze pierces through his wide one like a predator latching on his prey and he wonders how he got here in the first place. Every bone in his body was at civil war, either telling him to take the chance now or forever lose them in the face of cowardice. It was strange how you made him feel this way.

“Well, if you mean what you say, then I meant what I said.”

“Hmm,” you watch amused, “How I’m prettier than the stars?”

“Yes.” He barely manages to breathe out before he thinks otherwise. “More than just the stars.”

Your smile fades slowly, a tension that grows between your both and with an eye lock neither of you can break from. “Is that right?”

Your body only scoots closer, hands tingling clasp over yours and the distance between either of your lips only seems smaller and smaller. You can even smell his breath from so close, emitting a sweetness of orange soda, eyes falling shut moments before the pillowy texture of his lips would ghost over yours. “If I was lying…you’d know.”

Somewhere in the distance, thunder claps and a droplet falls on the crown of Seungkwan's head. Within seconds, the sky betrays him and rains on his parade, having you both jump up in reflex. Seungkwan scoops up the blanket in a swift motion and uses it to umbrella you both, “Come on!”

Your figures run off to shield within his car’s backseats, one wet shoe at a time. Seungkwan abandons the dirty blanket to the ground, shaking off the rest of the bit of the rain from his hair. Your giggles echos feeling his splash hit your cheeks. Seungkwan’s laughs follows suit, reveling in the pure joy you emit despite being rained on, almost intoxicated by the spontaneity of this situation. Never in his life did Seunkwan expect to be in such close proximity with the most tantalizing person he’s ever laid his eyes on only to be rained on the same night, yet still laughing like it was the most fun he’s ever had on a Saturday night, and in this case, it might actually be true.

“Where did that rain even come from?” 

Seungkwan shakes his head, a brightly lit smile on his face. “No idea.”

You run your hands through your dampened hair, peeking at Seungkwan through your loose strands, who was occupied by the mess mother nature creature rather than be concerned with what almost occurred moments ago. Can’t say you were surprised, he was avoidant almost all night together. Had you not taunted him you would’ve never seen that other side of him so quickly, nor would he have confirmed the feelings he’s been sitting on for as long as you were aware of the existence of each other. You had a lot of thoughts running through your head but one stayed precedence amongst the rest.

“Well, that sucks. Looks like we have to he–”

You tug him from his shirt to crash his lips into yours, blood pumping through your veins and traveling throughout your entire body. You want to devour this man. You had to have this man. There was nothing else at this moment that you wanted. There wasn’t a thing stopping you from taking it.

You hold on to him for dear life, mouth engorging on his, feeling insatiable. You had yourself digging his body against the bumpy surface of the car door, feeling his lips gradually reciprocate and grasp around your frame. You tug off the jacket from his body, feeling the heat of his body through his soft and supple skin, now goosebumps forming under your touch. You melt against him, finding yourself home in his embrace, teasing his lips, feeling his tongue. God, you never wanted anymore. “Y/n…”

Seungkwan wanted you desperately. It was unlike anything else he’s ever felt and could be more grateful you felt something too. Your kisses are sweet, your body feels incredible against his, and moans far perfect than anything he’s ever heard, yet, he feels himself resisting. His arms grow stiff, now pulling away from you, and dark thoughts settle in. A pang of unwarranted guilt drives you two apart, and Seungkwan finds the perseverance to pull away, seeing your eyes flit in disappointment. He knew what this was, or possibly could be. You were in your youth, maybe seeking adventure, freedom, and perhaps things he couldn’t provide for you. He wasn’t ready to have you, only to lose you. 

“Y/n, I don’t…hook up, but I just really like you, and if all you want is sex—and I might be really stupid for saying this—but I don’t want to be the one to give it to you.”

You sigh, “Seungkwan—“

“I'm probably being such a loser right now—“

“Seungkwan, I like you too. I really, really like you too.”

He blinks back at you with uncertainty, wiping eyes like some cartoon character, making sure he’s seeing and hearing things right. “Really?”

“How many ‘reallys’ do you need to hear?” You joke. “I am not here because I just want sex with you, I do, but I do want to do more than that with you.”

You reconnect your kiss, feeling him tenderly return and patting back your damp hair, and he smiles against your lips, “me too.”

He takes a breath to collect himself before returning your energy, a hand clasped to your face. He runs a hand over your back, settling in the small of your back, while your knee bumps repeatedly against the crotch of his pants, his grunts vibrating in your ears. He rolls his body into yours, hands inching above your ass, compulsively a gentleman.

You, on the other hand, weren’t so polite.   Crawling on top of him against the leather cushions, you begin palming the fabric over his bulge, moaning carnally over his mouth and hearing him softly gasp the more pressure you release. His body goes limp under your touch, digging his well-groomed nails into your flesh, almost like a warning. “Y/n…”

“You’re so cute,” You gush, running a hand over his thigh, “It makes me wanna take you whole in my mouth.”

“F-fuck, Y/n. I—“

“I promise I’ll take care of you.” You gingerly take apart the close of his pants, pull them over to his knees, and rub the shape of his cock through his boxers.

Seungkwan gulps nervously, loosening the neckline of his shirt. “Well, since you promised.”

You give him an amused grin before pulling the boxers down and have his cock spring out, watching it twitch into view. Your jaw drops in awe, brushing your finger from the tip to base, sizing it in your hand. “Wow…”

“Now you’re making me self-conscious,” he nervously chuckles, “I’m kind of used to sex in the dark. Less judgment that way.”

“I don’t think you have anything to be worried about, Seungkwan.”

He laughs to himself in disbelief, “You’re just saying that—“

“I’m really not,” You insist sternly, “Man, I have to show you, don’t I?” 

You fold your legs to center between his legs, head dipping down to reach his base, and your tongue gently meets his soft pair before licking up his shaft. That sent Seungkwan to a moment of shock, a moan caught in his throat. Your free hand creeps under his shirt, trailing your nails over his toned abdomen, feeling him flex in reaction. Kitten licks teasing the slit and around the perimeter before your lips wrap around the head, sucking until you’ve covered half the surface of his length. Seungkwan slouches, arching his back, propping himself against the door to be sure he has a view, damn was it a good view. “S-shit.”

“Your cock is so pretty, Seungkwan.” You kiss up his length, enjoying how his girth stretches your mouth when you hold his size, and squeezing around only to push it back out, having Seungkwan burst out in anguish, “And it’s all mine isn’t it?”

He pushes out a hard gust of air from his lung, feeling his heart pound against his rib cage while his cheeks turn a shy pink. His eyes flutter rapidly, getting in tune with the pleasure you put out, but is able to barely make out the image in front of him until he meets your eyes piercing right through him, rendering him soft and malleable. He tenses in your presence, legs periodically twitching, and sputtering nonsense like it's its own language. “All yours…fuck.”

Your laughter mocks him, bobbing against its shape. You had planned on deep-throating him until you’re sure you’re suffocating and found you successful when your vision blur, eventually a dribble of your saliva stretches from your chin to his cock as you pull away. “You’re so hard for me…I can even feel you in the back of my throat.”

Groaning rather loudly he instinctively jerks his hips in your mouth, hand running through your hair and guiding you gently, whimpering as you tell him sweet pleasantries that tickle his skin. Your eyes gaze up at his softly, lids dropping to create an allure, followed by the wet sounds of his length being plunged back and forth. The harder you pushed the longer your pupil would vanish behind your skull as you’re sinking down to his crotch, bobbing down until you’re gagging, coughing, and spitting his length out of your mouth out of necessity. You create a perfect gloss on your lips, your spit splattering out inconsistently as your hands replace your mouth's absence, a thick sheen coating him delectably. You were a mess, but even better, a mess for him. “You like that…you like me gagging on your cock?” 

Seungkwan nods gratefully, curling a strand of hair behind your ear, “You look so good…taking me like that…feel good too…”

His drool continues to get stuck in his throat, palm drilling into the leather and he feels so close he can almost taste it. His hips twitch uncontrollably, his knees writhing to hold your head closer to him, and his voice finally gives in. “I’m…gonna cum…”

You take deep strokes, angling him on the center of your tongue. “Jerk it off for me. I want you to cum in my mouth.”

“Y/n, you’re killing me,” he whines.

You take one of his hands and cover it against yours, giving him control to change the speed, “Do it, I want you to see how much I want it…cum in my mouth please…”

Seungkwan felt like his mouth was pried open, gasping in relief as the tension caused by your eager hands and your obscene mouth rushed to the center of his cock and he jerks in pulses, bucking his hips in immense arousal, “Y/n…God…fuck! Fuck!” 

Seungkwan pushes your head against the base of his shaft and hot streams of white shoot directly into your throat pipe. He forces his eyes open to watch you swallow his production with a smile on your lips, sucking the last bit of cum from the head of the cock, having spit and dribble border your cheeks. His body can finally rest, head hitting the window as he stroked your hair in pride and admiration, a permanent tired smile on his face, “You’re incredible.”

“Thank you,” You giggle and pull yourself up to catch some of the vicious liquid from your face with napkins from the cup holder. “We should probably get back soon. Let them both know we’re okay.”

He grasps your wrists in a sense of urgency, pink still on his cheeks but determination in his eyes, “Wait, I want to return the favor. Please.”

“You’re not tired?” You ask in concern, “You came a lot if I’m being honest.”

Hearing that, he shields his face, glancing down at his lap, “I don’t have much experience honestly, but if you’d let me, I’d really like to eat you out.”

“Well, okay then,” You chuckle anxiously before pulling down your pants.

You prop yourself in a comfortable position, where he had plenty of room to lie. He places himself in between to caress the fabric of your undergarment, thumbing over your inner thigh. You watch how shaky he is and you swear he looks like he’s never even been near one of these before. You finger through his hair, petting the top of his head. “Take it slow if you need to.”

“I know I look nervous, I just…I’ve thought about this more than I’d like to admit.” He confesses, momentarily parting his bangs.

“Mmh, have y—oh…” 

He doesn’t let you finish, already settling his mouth over the wet spot on your underwear, licking it in hopes of getting a taste. His cheeks press against your thigh, hot tongue teases your heat through the cotton barrier between you and him, getting a sense of skill level. You groan down at him in encouragement, twirling his wet hair between your fingers.

Impatiently, he tugs the elastic from your hips and pulls them off your body. He faces your entrances, committing it to memory, and lets his thumb sink into your slit. He draws his jaw, mouth-watering as his digit gets slowly swallowed by your folds. He replaces it soon with an index, joining with his middle, and coats them, an anticipating mewl leaving your lips. 

His patience visibly runs thin as his arms then slink around your legs and tug you against his mouth, earning your well-deserved gasp. He mouths your folds, tongue brushing between your divide slowly and carefully before he daggers your entrance, his nose pressing up against your clit. You prop your legs on either side of him, tensing up your abdomen, and your fingers run deep through his hair. You catch a hint of his bashful smile, sighing peacefully against your heat.

“The way I dreamt about worshiping this pussy…Worshiping you.” 

You can’t help but let out a throaty moan, trembling under his care to every inch of your core. He heavy-handedly strokes your thighs, burying his face until he loses sense of his other surroundings, only knowing the pulsing sensation of your cunt on his tongue. You clench in your stomach, toes physically curling while your heel digs into your seat. “Mmh, Kwan…”

You muffle his moans between your thighs, his pants tickling your thighs. You clutch at him with a lack of remorse, the stripes he runs are impossible to ignore. Your moans raspy and sweet, overtook the sound of rain, fogging the windows with your hot breath. 

You clench the back of his head to hold him still, unknowingly driving him to the brink of insanity. Breathing you in took more control than Seungkwan realized. As soon he got that initial taste, he knew he wouldn’t get enough of you, plaguing his head with your pussy and only your pussy. He’d be a slave to it, condemned to please it, and wouldn’t be satisfied if he didn’t get the same hair pulling, the same strained moans, or inconsistent buckling of your hips. He just wanted you more and more, using him how you see fit, making his sole purpose to catch your cum.

“Yes please, ride my face,” he gasps as you grind against his mouth, legs hooking him by his shoulders.

All you knew and could feel was the heat of his tongue, wrecking you senselessly. It was illegal to feel this good. If anything, you thought you had outdone yourself today, only to realize too late that Seungkwan would show you a fair match. If his mouth could do this, what could his dick feel like?

You shut your eyes, exasperated groans escape you. You cry out his name: feeling the harsh movement of your hips before your jaw is locked open and your aroused rambles flow out of you like water. “I’m—I—“

“Want you to cum all over my face…Please cover me…I want it. I want you to. Won’t you do it… for me?”

You feel a release and none like it before. Fluid sprays in all directions, urging Seungkwan to suck hard and flick against your bud faster. He laps up your climax, not minding how it ruins the interior of the car. Your body perks up from the seat until you’re empty, dampening Seungkwan's cheek, trailing down to his shirt from more than the rain, and filling his mouth with more than just cum. He moans into your core, collecting you in his mouth, and as good as it felt, you were stunned.

“I-I am so, so sorry. I didn’t know I could do that. I’ve, um, never squirted until now.”

You feel the shake of his head, fingers hooked into your walls, and still rummaging in you; Seungkwan picks himself up to face you. His kind eyes trace over the guilty expression on your face, and he leans closer, pressing a soft chaste kiss against your lips. “I don’t mind, because I want to see you do it again.”

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Hi there,

i wanted to ask for a BG3 and marauders matchup if thats okay :)

Here's the stuff:

Gender:

agender (afab if that matters lol)

Pronouns:

He/they/she

Sexuality:

Queer (i like men and women and nonbinary people lol but labels always feel wrong)

Appearance:

5'7, bit chubby, shoulder length brown hair that i usually tuck behind my ears, grey blueish eyes, black nosering in my left nostril, L and R tattooed on my wrist (yes for left and right lol). I mostly wear dark academia or cottagecore style clothes, usually dark and earthy colours with the occasional blue and red.

Personality:

Gemini infp, 6w5. Im usually more shy and anxious when i first meet someone or am in a new environment, but get pretty enthusiastic and talkative once i get to know someone. Im autistic, so i can get sensory overload or just overwhelmed, and sometimes this can lead me to get panic attacks or become nonverbal. This also means that certain topics can lead me to talk for like hours, even with strangers. My love language is physical touch, i love hugs or linking arms with people, and i have a tendency to lay against someone when sitting or if im very close with someone sometimes biting them (softly i promise lol). I do struggle a lot with recognising my emotions and i dont really like fighting. I dont really talk about my feelings, mostly opinions. I am known to be very good at debates, and usually lead them at school, because i am known to be able to form logic based opinions easily. I am creative and good at analysing situation and calculating the best outcome in my head. Also im very much the oldest sibling.

Likes (at least like three things):

- books

- flowers

- music

- singing

- animals

Dislikes (at least three things):

- SPIDERS

- sweaty sticky summers

- tomatoes

- (myself lol)

Extra fun fact (this is about whoever you are describing to me):

I have a breathing problem so i basically have to tell my body to breath, it doesnt to it enough by itself lol

BG3 EXTRA-

Race:

Woodland elf

Class:

Druid

D&D alignment:

Chaotic good

Sorry for the delay! I have been having a rough 24 hours. Hopefully, after some rest, I will be able to crank out these matchups faster again! I hope this is to your liking!

~~~~~ MATCH UP ~~~~~

BG3: Loyal, Regal, Protective, and Compassionate I present to you your Baldurs Gate 3 match------

Wyll Ravengaurd

I picked Wyll for you because his calm, relaxed demeanor will match your shyness and because Wyll, out of all the characters, is the most likely to just sit there and listen. There are numerous dialog options where he always wants to take the topic off of him and listen to someone else.

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

This man is a sweet bean who doesn't get much love and appreciation in the BG3 fandom. I think that stems from the slow storyline and questline.

However, he is just a gentleman who wants to protect and care for his people and those struggling.

Over time of knowing you, Wyll learns to love to dance again. He loves watching you spin around and enjoy time with him.

Will loves to listen. He would much rather sit and listen to you talk about anything you desire than dwell on his past. When he is with you, he desires nothing more than to listen to all the fun facts, quips, and stories you have.

Wyll is very protective of you, but he realizes he cannot always be there to protect you when times get hard in battle. So he makes duel dates and teaches you how to duel with his beloved rapier.

He is the most gentle being with you when you get overwhelmed or even have a breathing spell. He will help give you some privacy by casting Blur or Hadars Darkness (Let's pretend it doesn't cause damage).

If you have any special rituals to help you through your most challenging moments, he learns them by heart to be of the utmost help.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

The group was walking through the forest on its way to Baldurs Gate. You are deemed the fearless leader because you are the glue that holds everyone together. Too bad you are horrible with directions. Not that it really mattered. You had tons of friends and your partner surrounding you to help you correct your choices. Today, like any other day, you made a few mistakes, but the drawn-on 'L' and 'R' on your hands were really helping.

As you made it to what looked like an abandoned village, everyone agreed it was time to call it a day. The crew was exhausted, and Astarion looked deader than usual, even as a dead man. Setting up camp, it became apparent there needed to be more firewood and, most importantly, food. After a quick game of heads or tails with a coin, Wyll and you became the duo to save the evening, not that either of you would complain. You remembered that you heard a stream or waterfall not too far from here. Now, was it to your left or to your right? Shrugging, you chose a direction and set off with Wyll.

You two always had a calm relationship, and nothing really changed after you started dating, either. Wyll loved to listen to you and understand the inner workings of your mind. As you moved through the darkening forest, both of you realized there was no water nearby. "Y/N dear, out of curiosity, do you know where we are?" You paused, looking between the map and the area surrounding you. "Um, yes, definitely, we just need to make a." You look down at your hands, looking at the letters, "Left here and then one more left and a right, then boom, water. See, I can read a map!"

Will laughed softly, shaking his head. Following your lead, you two eventually came to a source of water. Of course, Wyll was not going to mention to you that had you just gone straight and then left originally from camp, you would have made it here faster. No, he was going to keep this to himself, seeing as you gave him the most radiant smile that could almost challenge Shadowheart's divine light. Getting lost with you would always be one of his favorite things.

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(After freeing yourselves from the parasite, Wyll and you started adventuring together. Finding new wonders and beautiful places to call your own.)

Y/N: Wyll, look over there, just over the horizon. Is that a flower field?

Wyll: Why yes, my love, it sure does look like one; care to partake?

(You nod eagerly and trek to the field. Picking a good spot, you and Wyll sit down in the field, eagerly picking flowers and making a crown.)

Y/N: You know what this flower means, Wyll. (You began to inform Wyll of every single flower and herb in the field. Wyll is just staring at you lovingly.) Hey, are you listening to me?

Wyll: (He proceeded to resay everything you had just said to him.) My love, I will always listen to you.

Alrighty, with BG3 out of the way, I have a good one as well for your Marauders Era match. They are kind, understanding, protective, and very goofy.

I match you with------

Lily Evans

Lily Evans is a kind, loving soul. She is also brilliant and very understanding. Lilly does not judge anyone unless they give her a reason, and she is so supportive. Now, she does have quite the goofy side—I mean, she has, too—she's best friends with the Marauders.

~~~~~ HEADCANONS ~~~~~

Lily is brilliant. Many have said she is the witch of her time. Being muggle-born didn't stop her from rising to the top academically.

Due to how smart she is she loves to debate with you healthily, even if she agrees with you 100% on a topic she wants to hear all your reasonings why.

Lily definitely has that goofy, youngest-sibling energy. Being the oddball sibling, Lily would have to comfort herself with jokes and humor.

Being the youngest sibling definitely counteracts your older sibling energy. She is the Ying to your Yang when it comes to the way you two see the world.

Lily loves hanging on to you, arms linked, walking around school, or even holding pinkies to Hogsmeade.

Though Lily isn't the biggest fan of many animals besides cats, she goes to care of magical beasts with you. She trusts you will make sure she doesn't do something stupid and let her get eaten.

Lily loves to listen to you sing. Nothing makes her happier than you two sneaking into the prefect bathroom and listening to you sing in the echoey room.

~~~~~ BLURB ~~~~~

You sat by the black lake, staring James Potter down. It was you and Lily versus him and Remus. The debate today is why any witch or wizard would learn dark magic. This conversation stemmed from Sirius's quick departure not even ten minutes prior due to something happening to his brother. There was speculation that the family had begun to bring the boys into more darker things. Being the black sheep, Sirius wanted out and moved in with James; however, Regulus wasn't so lucky, you all assumed.

The debate grew heated as you debated why a family would teach their child these spells but that no family should teach them. James' take on the idea was that they were bad news if a person even thought about learning the spells. Lily and Remus interjected occasionally as you two debated; however, it was clear you and James didn't need help. In theory, you were both saying the same thing, just slightly different flavors. The natural nail in the coffin for this debate was when James repeated the point you made ten minutes ago back to you but in his own words.

This caused both of you to stop and stare at one another. An exhausted Remus said, "Lily, you owe me ten gallons. It took them eight minutes longer than you thought it would take them to realize they were saying the same thing." Lily shrugged and coughed up the money, returning to her place beside you and wrapping her arm around your waist. "Best eight gallons I have ever spent seeing my partner speak so passionately on behalf of our dear friend." James turned to look at Remus, "Don't tell me you two bet on who would win the argument-" You quickly interjected James. "It wasn't an argument. You git. It was a debate. Get it right." Lily laughed gently and kissed your cheek lovingly. "That's it, my love. Show him who's boss."

~~~~~ EXTRA ~~~~~

(Summer had approached, and you all were staying at James' family home. The only problem was it was hot, way too hot. Luckily, James had a brilliant idea)

Y/N: If it gets any hotter, I will melt, I can feel myself melting.

James: No Y/N, that's called sweat. I thought you were smart or something. Anyway, everyone come grab your respective colored water balloon's. It is time for war.

(Everyone grabs a balloon. What Sirius did not inform James was the fact the balloons were filled with not only cooled water but coloring as well)

Lily: Alright, everyone, on the count of three....1.....2.....3.

(By the end of the fight, everyone was colored from head to toe in a rainbow of water.)

Lily: Hey, Y/N, come over here.

Y/N: What up, Lills?

(Lily leans in and kisses you gently)

Lily: Look, babe, we made purple.

Y/N: What a fantastic way to cool down.

[the-invisible-queer]

https://www.tumblr.com/the-invisible-queer/759998425354911744/httpswwwtumblrcomthe-invisible-queer75999317

Idk if you’ve seen it but this reminded me of the paris hilton documentary bc in that program she was they were not allowed to exchange numbers or even to really talk much with their peers, I hope you and them can become real friends after the program’s over

They have these rules in place because of past drama

It is a program with mentally ill people who are unstable getting treatment

I'm not just talking people who are depressed or anxious

Like we face the wide range of mental illnesses including but not limited to: schizophrenia, extreme substance abuse, bipolar, narcolepsy

It's a safety/privacy issue if we're talking outside of group which is why they have the rule

Like I fully understand

Let's say I give one person my number and someone else demands it

It becomes a safety issue and interrupts treatment

Because I'm polite to everyone but I've only connected with a few

And there are some people I haven't connected with who want to exchange numbers so I'm glad the rule is in place

Gonna have to come up with an excuse when I get discharged

[1d-discourseoftheday]

💙 Tues 5 Jan ‘21 💚

Is today's biggest story really a pair of socks I mean WHY NOT am I right, that may as well happen! With impeccable timing, as the fandom and the world went bananas about Ho-livia WildStyle (a drag queen name for the ages right there), the first of the limited edition TPWK socks that people ordered basically on blind faith (you fully couldn't tell what they were going to look like at all on the website, and now we know why lmao) have arrived with a bang: they seemed to come with either blue or pink hearts, but in fact it turns out you get one of two color combos, either pink and white or, uh: BLUE AND GREEN HEARTS. I'm not one to carry on about like jeans and a green shirt or what have you but this is a CHOICE, and if the antis don't have performative burnings of their evil larrie merch honestly WHAT is the POINT; the resale market of the limited edition socks is already booming though so there's always that option, if either side can bear to conduct business across the divide. My question is, did they really time it to play out this precisely on purpose? Unlikely tbh, but if that's a thing they're capable of I have some THOUGHTS about the way other Harry merch takes like 4 months to arrive...

Larrie socks aside however, the real discourse continues to be about you-know-what, with the players out there fanning the flames wildly. There's too much nonsense to bother with it all (the quoted sources in the articles directly contradicting each other's stories also makes it difficult) so let's just... *spins wheel*....okay I landed on 'tabloids say Harry's wedding speech talked about his girlfriend Olivia' here goes. Sjksdfjks WHY would you be talking about your girlfriend of three weeks in a speech for your close friends' wedding, OMG, how uncomfortable and inappropriate is that?? Imagine if any of this were real, that Harry ('I'd take my time and make sure a thing was serious before telling people about it', end quote, I mean that's ALSO a stunt quote (oh the layers) but just pointing out that it's contradictory) starts dating his co-worker who just got out of a huge relationship and is also a famous person with presumably an interest in privacy, and immediately the two of you get to work setting up a big reveal to happen right away (even in a weird fantasy world where any of this is real the possibility that JEFF AZOFF'S WEDDING had the paps present for any other reason than to do EXACTLY what they were told is flat impossible- what pap or celeb outlet can afford to be on Jeff's bad list?!) and then he casually writes her into his speech (a guy who's so anxious and shy about public speaking and what to say that he begs people to write speeches for him and practices endlessly) uh huh, sure Jan. There are so many things about this that are ludicrous, but more to the point, none of the things they're saying hold up to scrutiny any better than this. There just isn't any point in taking them that seriously though; Harry is a closeted artist and, just like the many queer artists that came before him who he repeatedly reminds us are his icons, he both lets us know all day every day in a million ways that he's queer, and also plays the industry game and winkingly gives the press their Straight Guy Harry fodder. You don't have to like it, or indeed anything at all in this world, but people do need to accept that whether they like it or not is neither the point nor anyone (including Harry)'s responsibility to respond to or do anything about.

Like I said I can't cover every detail but! I always have a little space for the absurd: today, our best entrant is the possibility that the whole wedding we saw was a sham– fans ask, was this public spectacle Jeff and Glenne's actual wedding? Listen if anyone would be up for it it would be this crew, and if they did stage it I'm sure they had a good laugh! Suspicion has been cast on Glenne's dress (allegedly an untailored 2018 off the rack number), the small guest list (wouldn't they just wait and have a huge event?), and the fact that they invited paps there at all. It would make the no explanation robe pics EVEN FUNNIER though if you imagine that was for our benefit but left totally unadressed (undressed). ANYWAY Don't Worry Darling filming is back in business and Harry was papped some more today, out for a casual not at all pap walk hike with a work associate and multiple items of his own merch (including an unreleased hoodie design.) On the topic of DWD, sometimes a different perspective can be interesting-- for example considering whether Harry is the point of all this at all? Or is he but a bit player in the real DWD publicity drama, an elaborate and very public dramatic reconciliation between Olivia and her ex husband? Either way, he's neither a clueless dupe, a helpless pawn, or anyone's 'boy toy', so please: can we rein in the hand wringing and pointless Olivia bashing a bit?

Let's talk about something else shall we? For example! Liam's setlist, just released for the upcoming LP Show Act 4. Look at that song selection! Fireproof! Strong!! Through The Dark!! More exciting 1D faves! Plus Slow and Home With You off his EP, NICE, singles and more, it looks awesome. The Hugo Man fragrance relaunch is less exciting, featuring the dopiest possible articles full of chat about his skin care routine (oh shucks I'm just  manly man, I don't have one at all... *names two products and refers to 'multiple moisturizers'*), trademark accidental candor (“I’m quite tired!”), and of course trying to describe a fragrance, always an entertaining gymnastics (“every time I spray it, it kind of takes me back to being on that rooftop in Berlin”), but also there are manly new pics of Lia.

A new song Niall co-wrote is coming out! The JC Stewart song, Break My Heart, will be out this Fri! Charlie Lightening posted pics from a year ago on the Walls music video set, featuring an intent Louis in the sun (and fashion voter underrated excellent Looks), and Louis commented on Dave Allen's post (“top man!”)-- the famous boxer is offering to help friends through lockdown by facetiming 3or 4 people a day for home workouts, damn, and also aww. That shitty Doncaster secondary school turned out some really sweet dudes, against all odds tbh. With Los Angeles experiencing some of the worst COVID surges we've seen since the beginning of the pandemic, Grammys organizers have elected to postpone the (already limited) ceremony. Originally scheduled for Jan 31 it is now TBA, tentatively for March. Harry's stalker, who menaced him in and near his London home in 2019, is being charged with violating his restraining order by attempting to contact Harry via social media, Global Fund for Women thanked Harry for donating, and HLDaily and other accounts were suspended for posting pap pics, always a risk, but one trick potato Jeff is on the job; HSD is back up and running, cause they can't have a proper stunt season without their most faithful mouthpieces. Niall continues to vote for himself on twitter threads about what to listen to in the New Year.

[solidandsound]

How Patrick Carman’s SKELETON CREEK Tapped into My Gay Teen Paranoia

Skeleton Creek is a 2009 middle-grade horror novel by Patrick Carman. Presented in a journal format, it follows Ryan, a teenaged writer who is stuck at home with an injured leg after taking a fall while exploring an abandoned mining dredge with his best friend, Sarah. The twosome are always getting into trouble together, and the accident is the last straw for Ryan’s parents: if Ryan ever contacts Sarah again, they are willing to sell their house and move to keep the two of them apart.

But these friends have a mystery to solve, so they continue to communicate in secret. Ryan deletes every email he gets from Sarah immediately after reading them, and keeps a close watch on his journal where he takes notes on their investigation. But could Ryan’s parents be reading his journal while he sleeps, or seeing Sarah’s emails before he can get to them? When they insist he spends some time out of his room, is it for his recovery, or so they can go through his things? And is Sarah all they care about, or do they just not want Ryan to discover the truth? He becomes paranoid, never sure his parents aren’t reading everything he’s writing. His privacy is constantly in question. As the book goes on, he trusts his parents less and less.

I think I started keeping my first journal in first grade. I wrote that I planned to marry my female best friend. Shortly after writing this deep dark secret, my grandmother joked about it to me. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she’d read my journal. I stopped writing in it immediately. If my private thoughts weren’t going to stay private, what was the point?

I didn’t attempt to keep a journal again until I was 14. I had known I was gay for a few years and was deeply, painfully in love with a straight boy. I needed somewhere to vent these feelings that felt like they were killing me. I was also much better at keeping secrets, or thought I was, at least. After all, no one knew I was gay, did they? So my journal, like my explicitly queer fiction and all the stuff I shouldn’t have been looking at online, was only one more small part of my big secret.

That doesn’t mean I wasn’t anxious about being found out. It seems melodramatic now, but I knew about gay bashings, I knew about kids being kicked out of their homes, and part of me was sure that if anyone knew I was gay, those things would happen to me. Meanwhile, my loved ones continued to violate my privacy. I would come home from school to find obvious signs that my mother had been in my room. She was brazen, unapologetic. She would throw out precious items she saw as junk. During one memorable fight, I screamed at her, saying, “I don’t trust you anymore!” I stayed in my room as much as I could; it was the only way I knew to protect myself. Any wrong moves, any slip-ups, and they would know. My world would come crashing down around me.

Skeleton Creek is not a queer book by any means. It has no confirmed queer characters (although Henry from New York sure does give me vibes™). Even so, what Ryan goes through resonates deeply with my queer experience. When he tries to remember whether or not he deleted his browser history, when he waits until his parents are asleep to watch a video, when he looks at his journal wondering if it’s been moved, I am pulled back into my 14-year-old self. At one point, he invokes Edgar Allan Poe’s The Tell-Tale Heart to describe his paranoia: “I can imagine my dad quietly entering my room in the dark. He’s moving so slowly it takes him an hour to get to my bed—just like the madman in that story. I hear something and sit up, but it’s pitch-black and I’m afraid to turn on the light, so I don’t see him standing there. I sit upright for a long time and I know someone is in the room even though I can’t see them. I’m terrified.”

Maybe this experience is more universal than I know. Maybe every teen keeps things from their parents. But I don’t think the stakes are as high for most teens as they felt for me and Ryan. When I lay awake in the dark, listening to my parents talk in the hall, trying to figure out if they were talking about me, I wasn’t afraid of getting grounded. It was a Tell-Tale Heart kind of fear. I was a closeted gay teen, and I was always terrified.

. . .

Thanks for reading. If you liked this, you can find more of my work at https://www.patreon.com/davisgsee

[babysizedfics]

Poor roman :( but that being said I am heka interested in 5

remus humiliates roman in front of jamal (but jamal is a sweetheart)

vote from this concept voting post!

TWs: swearing, emotional humiliation, arguing, remus is generally pretty mean in this - not "unsympathetic" but his behaviour is not ok, brief alcohol mention but it isnt a main feature

first some background info on remus and ro:

roman and remus' friend groups actually run parallel to each other by pure councidence in that theyre the same age and are both in the local queer scene

usually they only run into each other on nights out and avoid each other like the plague... until one of romans friends and one of remus' friends become a very serious couple and the friendship groups merge

remus tends to hang it over romans head whenever they argue or remus just feels like teasing him that he could so so easily spill romans secret littlespace to all his friends

and while roman claims to not care he also really doesnt want that to happen, especially the specific things remus threatens to reveal (namely him calling his cgs mommy and daddy, and his fear of the dark - which remus knows are romans biggest embarrassments)

and remus never USUALLY actually follows through on his threats, he loves to freak roman out but he doesnt mean to be intentionslly cruel.

but one night theyve had an argument recently and remus is out to hurt roman and finally follows through on his threat to reveal romans secrets. in front of jamal

((the actual incident below the cut))

all the friends are walking back from a night out, and remus hangs back from the group to talk to jamal. roman is just glaring at remus and not saying anything and holding jamals hand tightly. remus hasnt embarrassed him too bad so far, just asking jamal questions and referring to roman as his "baby brother" which is so annoying, but the thing is roman can tell hes building up to something

then suddenly remus smirks when he sees a completely pitch black side street thats theyre about to pass by, and he calls out to everyone "hey guys, there's a 24/7 mcdonalds through here and its a shortcut to the bus stop" and everyones like WOO mcdonalds and redirects to go down the side street

and romans heart pounds watching the friends all filter down the street without a second thought, theres no streetlights down there, theres light on the other side quite far away, but before that its SO DARK. and he freezes in place and jamal is tugged back by it and looks back at him. "babe, come on"

romans starting to feel shaky and he literally cant move his feet. his eyes flick between the street and remus' sadistic cocky smirk.

"whats wrong baby bro? you stuck or something?" remus leers with that stupid stupid smirk

and roman HATES him so so much

"ro, what's the matter?" jamal asks

"i- um," roman stutters, trying to keep his voice from shaking too much at the sight of his friends just having DISAPPEARED into the darkness - how are they okay with that?? "i- im not hungry"

"okay well i am, and remus said it was a shortcut anyway so-"

"i-i -- no i can't"

seraphina, romans best friend, looks back and notices whats happening and quickly jogs over (knowing roman is scared of the dark) "hey roma, it's okay we dont have to go down there" she soothes

jamal is supportive but he doesnt get it. he thinks roman is scared of criminals or smth. "i promise theres no one bad down there, hun. and i'll be right next to you the whole time, i'll protect you" and he smiles and tugs romans hand to pull him towards the side street

romans eyes quickly tear up and he panics and rambles "nononono dont please please i cant i cant" in a broken voice and plants his feet firmly on the ground, paralysed with fear

remus starts cackling "ohhhhh thats right~" as if he just remembered. "my baby brother's terrified of the dark, isn't he?"

"f*ck off, re" sera barks, standing between the twins, protective of roman

"wait, are you?" jamal asks sounding surprised. roman doesnt let himself look at him, too busy watching remus warily and knowing thats not all he has planned to embarrass roman

remus goes on, shouting out to jamal over sera's head "he's petrified!" he confirms sounding delighted. "yknow that massive blackout last summer? he cried like a baby. literally sobbing for his daddy patton to make it go away"

theres a brief silence because no, sera and jamal didnt expect remus to refer to patton as romans daddy - they both know roman calls him dad but this is a surprise.

and that one second of silence drags on for ages for roman, all he can hear is his heart pounding in his ears and remus' obnoxious laughter

he is shaking, frozen in shock rather than fear now. for all of remus' teasing threats at home, he didnt expect remus to actually do it. hes devastated and humiliated that remus told to his best friend and especially his BOYFRIEND of all ppl

and honestly he's not even thinking about the pitch black side street right now because the streetlights on the main road are blurred by tears welling in his eyes anyway

"why dont you just leave him alone!" sera hisses furiously after her mild shock

then jamal bounces back rlly stern to remus "yeah i already know about that! roman told me and it was HIS choice to tell me"

roman stares at him in disbelief but jamal is too busy staring daggers at remus to notice

remus looks suddenly offended and frowns. hes clearly hurt that the others dont think its funny "jeez youre both such bores. im just having some fun"

"youre demented if you think thats fun" seraphina growls and shoves remus away towards the sidestreet. remus rolls his eyes and runs ahead to join the others who are all oblivious to that coversation, howling with drunken laughter in the pitch black and jumping out and scaring each other

"f*cking prick" jamal calls after remus, seething

sera quickly throws a concerned look to roman "you okay?"

roman just swallows thickly and looks between seraphina and where he saw remus join the others in the pitch black. his stomach churns at the idea of remus telling more people. "i-is he gonna--"

"im on it" sera nods and starts turning around "i wont let him tell anyone else, roma, promise" then she runs ahead to keep an eye on remus and to give him and jamal some privacy

after a moment jamal turns back to roman looking so worried and holds his hands and asks very gently "babe, can you tell me how youre feeling?"

and roman is teary but he whispers "i - you stuck up for me"

jamal looks suddenly sad and cups romans cheek "of course i did"

"but you said i told you about it. i- i didnt tell you that i-" roman gulps after his voice wobbles "i didnt tell you about it"

and jamal smiles sadly and goes "i know babe... im sorry, i just didnt wanna give him any more power. it seemed like he's held that over you for a while"

suddenly the tears in romans eyes overspill and he doesnt really know why but he can't stop them

jama gasps a little "oh roman, its ok" and just pulls him into a tight hug

roman clings and sniffles, glad that he can hide his tears from his boyfriend even if it is in his neck.

and jamal just strokes his back and whispers "its ok baby, its ok" **

they talk about it quietly as they take the longer, well-lit route instead. roman admits he would never have told jamal abt his fear on his own - and the reason he's been avoiding staying overnight at jamals apartment is bc the one time he did he got so scared of the dark that he couldnt sleep and was just anxious all night but wouldnt wake jamal to tell him

after jamal finds out hes like baby why didnt u tell me its okay and comforts him about it not being embarrassing or childish. then:

"so you do actually want to stay at mine, its just because its so dark that you didnt?"

roman nods shyly "yeah... im sorry i know its a dumb fear i just-"

"its not dumb ro. i meant to say if it works for you, we could leave the hall light on and the door open. its not like i live with anyone who can walk in."

roman blinks "wait you - really? it wont make it hard for you to sleep?"

jamal smiles softly "no hun, honestly i could sleep anywhere. i fell asleep in the middle of the day in the staffroom just last month"

roman laughs, so so so relieved

"so... maybe next time you come over for dinner you could stay the night, yeah?" jamal says with a smile and a blush. he wraps his arm around romans waist and pulls him in, hip to hip

roman bites his lip and blushes. after a moment he suggests shyly "im free tonight..."

and jamal smiles so big, stops walking and puts his arm up to romans chest to stop him too then angles romans jaw down to kiss him

in the near future jamal promises to buy a plain nightlight and always leaves it on for roman when he stays overnight from then on

**side note: roman could never stand anyone calling him baby before because he felt infantilised at school becaus of his undiagnosed adhd. so he sees it as a derogatory name more than anything. but when jamal says it roman feels so warm and respected because he knows jamal would never mean it in that way. so jamal has "baby" rights basically

[noveltyreads]

Perfect on Paper by Sophie Gonzales Book Review

TRIGGER WARNING: Bullying, abuse, biphobia ARC kindly given by the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review After reading Only Mostly Devastated, I was absolutely over the moon to have received an ARC of Perfect on Paper. I loved the first book I read from Sophie Gonzales and had extremely high hopes for this one especially after reading a blurb that encompasses everything I could've wanted from a romance/contemporary.

Perfect on Paper follows Darcy Phillips, a sixteen year old girl who in her spare time gives the student body helpful relationship advice through her anonymous identity as "Locker 89."

She's bisexual and she has a major crush on her best friend, Brooke who does not know about Darcy's "extracurricular activity." If word gets out about it, some unfortunate events would come out and Brooke may never talk to Darcy ever again. Not only jeopardising their friendship but also Darcy's chances at turning it into something more. Luckily, Darcy's got everything under control and so far in the years that the anonymous locker has been run, nobody had ever uncovered her identity.

That is until one afternoon where she gets spotted taking letters out of Locker 89 by none other than Alexander Brougham, an annoyingly hot swimmer who blackmails Darcy for her privacy in exchange for her help in getting his ex girlfriend back. What could possibly go wrong with that plan?

A lot apparently and this book encompassed it all whilst still giving me relationship advice and an educative lesson on biphobia and what it truly means to be queer. I genuinely enjoyed how this book explored different relationship types and styles and I loved how this book showed me that there were so many different ways to love another person. This was mainly done through the letter format where we got to see the kind of advice Darcy was giving to other students. Most authors would steer away from showing that kind of relationship advice but I think that for this book it really worked since it gave another dimension to Darcy's characterisation. She was a flawed character and that was made so by the character revelations made along the way. My only issue with her was that I never could pick up on her personal issues until she pointed them out. Although she was at times an afraid and anxious character, I followed through with her but didn't understand why she did some of the things she did until she explained them. I would've liked for it to have been a bit more clear and obvious but it didn't take too much away from the story so I still enjoyed it overall.

What made me super happy though were the many Aussie references. We almost never get represented in books apart from maybe #LoveOzYA which is often set in Australia anyway. To see a character that was not only an Aussie but from my own home town too was so heartening to see. We also got so much information about Australian dialects even I learnt something about my own that I didn't know before. Just for someone to reference the Australian-British accents in the Southern parts of Australia made me jump for joy. Oh, and let's not forget the Jimmy Barnes, Midnight Oil and Cold Chisel references and the multiple mentions of fairy bread. My Aussie soul was 100% satisfied.

But my Aussie fangirling aside, it was definitely the characters who made this book. I already mentioned Darcy but this book was so layered with the character development it's not even funny. It dealt with so many hard topics like abuse, biphobia and bullying whilst still being light-hearted. I really loved reading about them all especially Brougham who was so patient and caring yet so held together in a world where, behind closed doors, was falling apart around him. I felt so sympathetic towards him and just wanted to give him a big hug. In fact, I think all the characters deserved a big hug.

Raina was the only character I wanted more of since we barely got anything from her end. I wanted her to have more of a presence but her short page-time didn't bother me too much. I think the book made up for it with Ainsley who, after Brougham, was my second favourite character for her bubbliness and for her crazy ideas and imagination. I was never bored reading about her and I loved reading about hers and Darcy's sisterly connection and how they always had each other's backs. It was really awe-inspiring to read.

All in all, I genuinely enjoyed this book. Compared to Only Mostly Devastated I think I liked the other one more but I definitely wasn't disappointed with this one. ACTUAL RATING: 4.3 STARS

[stevie-steven-stevington]

1-3 for the ask thing uwu

1. Tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

ok so. i have like....3 and a half? projects going on right now, in various states of progress from “actively working on and almost finished with” to “all i have is a few jotted down notes”. one of them is an original that i don’t wanna talk about on here for privacy reasons and shit (will tell you abt it if you pm me, bee) and one is a commission that i currently only have a premise and background info from the commissioner from bc i’m trying to finish this other project first but! i’ll talk about the other 2!

so one of them is my fic for marveltrumpshate, which. i should have done a long while back but then Shit Started Happening and it fell to the back burner and just hasn’t come back yet, but! it’s basically one of those “tony and peter gradually becoming family and learning how they fit with each other” fics - i’ve actually always wanted to write one of those and just never had the opportunity/energy to do it, so i’m excited about that. as of now i only have like 1 scene because i’m literally the worst and also MTH didn’t give an actual hard deadline and i. have ADHD. but yeah right now there’s not much to love but i do really like the amount of freedom that comes with writing one of these fics, since there’s so much empty time between SM-hoco and IW

the other is.......one of those “i don’t even go here but i got so attached to these 2 characters that didn’t turn out to be endgame and now i Have To” fics lol. i’m not gonna tell you the fandom. it’s not gonna happen, i literally hate the show and only watched it for like 4 characters out of the giant fucking ensemble cast and at this point i’m just here for 1 ship and that’s it. anyway though, it’s basically a rewrite of the latest season but this time with my ship as the main focus. it’s written as a series of scenes, started as a 5 + 1 and became.....an 11 + 1? we’re not gonna talk about that either. it’s sort of a showing of how one of the characters gradually realizes that he’s bisexual and in love with his best friend, who just recently came out too, while also dealing with deep-seated depression. i’m almost done with that one, i just have one scene left! and as for what i love most about it....i think just seeing the progression of the MC/narrator’s thoughts and feelings about his sexuality and mental health and like...the recurring motifs that i’ve sprinkled into it, like how the other character always taps his fingers on stuff when he’s anxious. it’s one of the only 20k+ fics i’ve written (which. it was meant to be like 5k max at first. it’s probably gonna be like 32k in the end. i hate myself) so it’s fun to see the progression from start to finish

2. Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

the original project i have in the works! i’m not gonna say much, but i will say that it’s (hopefully) meant to be a YA novel, it’s very much a queer story, and it’s got my vibe written all over it lol

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

so i feel like i definitely have one or two but i can’t think of any right now - i do, however! have a bunch of song lyrics that give me super vague but super palpable inspo so i’ll give yall some of those

“you left me stained, called it art” - trust my lonely, alessia cara

“i miss the days of a life still permanent” - i wanna get better, bleachers

“we might be hollow but we’re brave” - 400 lux, lorde

“only bad people live to see their likeness set in stone...what does that make me?” - still sane, also lorde

“the secrets you tell me, i’ll take to my grave. there’s bones in my closet, but you hang stuff anyway” - guillotine, jon bellion

the entirety of heather by conan gray

the switch from “how long can we keep this up” to “how long till we call this love” in distance by christina perri

“low on self-esteem, so you run on gasoline” - gasoline, halsey

“can’t take the kid from the fight, take the fight from the kid” - camisado, p!atd

“we tried the world, good god it wasn’t for us” and “with my mid-youth crisis all said and done, i need to be youthfully felt ‘cause god i’ve never felt young” - jackie and wilson, hozier

“my babe would never fret none, about what my hands and my body done. if the lord don’t forgive me, i’d still have my baby and my babe would have me” - work song, also hozier lol

the entirety of turning out pt ii by ajr, especially “you said you’d love me, no matter what. you said you loved me, is that what i loved?”

“and we’re not bruised, they’re just party tattoos” - party tattoos, dodie

[leigh-kelly]

And Don’t It Feel Good?

Some 80s AU.

Brittany is really excited about her and Santana’s anniversary. She knows that Santana has been planning this big dinner thing and she won’t take that away from her but she wants to do something for Santana too, she wants to show her how much she means to her and even if she’ll never have the kind of money that Santana does to spend on fancy gifts, Brittany has been putting a little money aside every week so she can buy something for the love of her life.

Because she doesn’t want to go shopping alone, Brittany calls Artie. He’s usually home during the day and he agrees to go look at gifts for Santana with her. Brittany is surprisingly nervous about it, knowing that she has to be really careful about what she buys Santana and she’s glad she has a second set of eyes to help her figure out what the best thing to get is.

“So you’re buying jewelry?” Artie asks, popping a wheelie in his wheelchair.

“Yeah, but nothing gaudy. She likes simple and classy stuff and it can’t be anything with hearts or something.”

“Is it hard being with someone in the closet?”

“Sometimes.” Brittany shrugs. “But she’s like, sort of out, you know? Just not to her family or at work, or like, in not gay spaces. It’s just different for people like her than it is for people like us. You’re a film maker, I’m a dancer, we’re pretty much supposed to be a bunch of queers.”

“I guess. So nothing that looks like it was bought by another woman?”

“Exactly. I was thinking maybe like, a chain that has my birthstone on it. Then everybody else can just think that she likes the color but she can know that she gets to keep me close to her heart.”

“You never struck me as a romantic.” Artie laughs. “And yet here you are.”

“She’s like, totally romantic and I want to try to do something awesome back. I couldn’t really afford to buy her anything nice until now, but since she refuses to let me pay a single bill, I was able to save a bunch of money to buy her a gift. So let’s do this.”

Brittany pushes Artie’s wheelchair into the jewelry store and she spends an hour looking over every single piece, even the ones way out of her price range. She finally goes back to her original idea and looks over the birthstones, picking out a ruby on a gold chain. Red totally suits Santana too, so it’s perfect and she has the cashier wrap it up for her. She’s a little nervous about whether or not Santana is going to like it, but Artie assures her that she will. Because Santana isn’t working late, Brittany declines Artie’s offer to come hang out with everyone and she goes home to hide the necklace in her drawer before Santana gets home.

Over the next few days, Brittany keeps checking the drawer to make sure that the necklace is still there, as if it was going to disappear, and each time she sees the wrapped box, she breathes a sigh of relief. On the morning of their anniversary, she’s the first one out of bed, wanting to bring Santana breakfast before she gets up for work. Because she’s a terrible cook, she turns on the coffee pot and runs around the corner to pick up Santana’s favorite omelet from the diner there. When she gets home, she slides it out of the styrofoam and onto a plate, then pours a cup of coffee for Santana before padding back into the bedroom.

“Brittany, what are you doing up?” Santana mumbles, rolling over in bed.

“I brought you breakfast.” She grins. “Don’t worry, I didn’t make it.”

“I’d still eat it if you made it.” Santana smiles, sitting up and leaning over to give Brittany a kiss. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

“If I would have had time I would have gone to the diner where I took you the first night we met...but then you would have been late for work and I don’t want to make you grumpy today.”

“Nothing can make me grumpy today. It’s been a year since you made my life so much better and I’m happy that we get to celebrate.”

“Duh, obviously me too.”

“I made reservations for tonight, I hope that’s okay.”

“Santana.” Brittany laughs, kissing her lips again. “I know you and I figured you would. I get out of work at five.”

“I know. I made the reservations for eight so you have time to come home and get ready.”

“You didn’t have to do any of this.”

“There are a lot of things I can’t give you, but I can give you this. Let me.”

“Okay. I will.”

After Santana eats her breakfast, Brittany goes back under the covers while she showers. She doesn’t have to be at work until eleven and considering she’s not the best morning person, she wants to go back to sleep. She does wake up again though when Santana kisses her goodbye and she promises that she’ll be ready by the time she gets home from work. Brittany sees that Santana is kind of giddy when she leaves and she thinks it’s the cutest thing.

When Brittany finally gets out of bed, she’s in a really good mood. She goes to work and she doesn’t even feel grumpy about teaching jazz aerobics to old people. She chats with Carl and Emma, she spends half of her lunch break in the studio practicing a dance she made up, she just feels good because it’s a really good day. By the time she leaves, she’s tired but she know she has an amazing night ahead of her so she gulps a hot coffee before she jumps on her bike and then she speeds home, wanting to be showered and ready before Santana walks in the door.

It turns out she has a lot of time and she relaxes in the shower, letting the hot water soothe her sore muscles from work. She gets out and she gels her hair before she pulls on a tight dress and takes a lot of time with her makeup. She’s just finishing up when Santana walks in the door and she grins when she sees her enter the bedroom. She looks really sexy in a pantsuit and Brittany sort of wishes they didn’t have dinner reservations so she could rip it off of her and throw her down on the bed. Sue her, her girlfriend is really sexy and she can’t control herself.

“What?” Santana asks, seeing the way Brittany looks at her.

“Do you know how hot you are? I mean, like, for reals, it’s taking everything in me to keep my hands off of you.”

“I’m just in work clothes...”

“Which you obviously look the hottest in. Are you wearing that to dinner? Because I might not be able to keep my hands off of you.”

“I’m changing.” Santana laughs. “I don’t want to feel like I’m at a work meeting.”

“Can we role play tonight that you’re the banker and I’m your client?”

“The last time we tried to role play I felt really weird...”

“Okay fine.” Brittany smiles and kisses Santana. “But I’m still going to rock your world when we get home.”

“I’m kind of counting on it.”

Santana changes and then they’re out on the curb hailing a cab to take them to the French restaurant where they had their late night date after Santana freaked out. Brittany is so glad that they’re in a good place and though she wishes she could hold Santana’s hand in the cab, she settles for the closeness to her and the idea that later on, she’ll have her all to herself where she can touch her everywhere and make her forget her own name. She loves when Santana’s mind goes blank and she loves that she can to that to her and when they get out of the cab outside the restaurant, Brittany feels a little flushed just thinking about later.

They’re led to the back of the restaurant where Santana requested a private table and Brittany smiles as she watches Santana tip the maitre’d. She thinks it’s really sexy that Santana is important and she loves watching her walk into a place with authority. They’re barely seated when a waiter brings them a bottle of champagne and then he steps back, giving them privacy with their glasses as their menus.

“I want to give a toast.” Santana murmurs, looking down into her glass. “To the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and to another fifty years with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Britt. I know I was weird at Mike and Artie’s wedding, but I never don’t want to be with you. I’ve found my person in you and I hope you’ll have me for that long.”

“I’m not going anywhere, babe. Seriously, I plan to grow old with you and travel the world with you when you finally get to retire.”

“You know it’ll be awhile, right?”

“Totally. But I’m going to be here for it. Imagine how much more relaxed you’ll be.”

“I’m sorry I’m so high strung all the time...”

“You don’t have to be sorry, that’s who I fell in love with. But I do want you to be able to not feel so anxious because it’s better for you.”

“I know.” Santana nods, then stops talking so they can both look at their menus. “Do you know what you want?”

“I think so, yeah. I’m just so excited thinking about giving you your present that I can hardly focus.”

“Brittany, you didn’t have—“

“I wanted to. You always buy me the best things and I might not have the kind of money that you do, but I saved to get you something special.”

The waiter comes back to the table and they order their food, Santana perfectly pronouncing the French even though she doesn’t speak it, and Brittany stumbling over the words but being clear enough so the waiter understands. When he leaves, Brittany takes the wrapped package out of her bag and Santana does the same from hers, sliding a long flat box across the table. Brittany grins at her and hands the gift she’s so excited about to Santana, who flushes.

“It’s a jewelry box.”

“I mean, yeah, but don’t do that thing you do where you try to guess gifts when the box is right in front of you.” Brittany laughs. “Open it.”

“Is that...” Santana unwraps the box and fingers the necklace inside. “My birthstone?”

“No, and it’s obscene that you don’t know that.” Brittany shakes her head. “It’s mine.”

“Brittany.”

“I knew getting you a heart or something would make Terry ask you questions at work, so I figured this could be a private little way of you having me with you.”

“I...” Santana tears up a little and takes the necklace out of the box, clasping it around her neck. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever given to me.”

“You really like it?”

“I love it so much. I wish I could kiss you right now to show you.”

“I’ll settle for this.” Brittany gives Santana’s hand a quick squeeze under the table. “Now me!”

Quickly, Brittany unwraps the package and finds the now familiar red Cartier box beneath the paper. She shakes her head at Santana, thinking it’s absurd that she spends so much money on her, and then opens the box. Inside is a chain with two joined rings on it and Brittany loses her breath. Considering the conversation they’d had the night of Artie and Mike’s wedding, it’s a lot to handle and she looks at Santana for an explanation.

“It’s not in place of an engagement ring.” Santana shakes her head. “I just wanted to let you know that I thought a lot about it and it’s a promise. I don’t know when I’ll be comfortable with the idea of a marriage that isn’t equal to everyone else’s, but someday I will be and you’re the only person I’ll ever want that with.”

“Jeeze.” Tears stream down Brittany’s face. “Okay.”

After putting her necklace on, it takes everything in Brittany not to dive across the table and kiss Santana. But she controls herself and their dinner comes shortly after. They eat in almost silence, both of them clearly reflecting on the year they’ve had together, and the finish the bottle of champagne before Santana orders another. When dessert is done and they’re both a little drunk, Santana makes to stand up and Brittany follows suit. They make their way out to the curb and Santana hails a cab, sliding in first so Brittany doesn’t have to.

The whole way home, Brittany notices that Santana fingers her necklace and she realizes that it’s the first time anyone has ever bought her a piece of jewelry. A shock of hair falls across her face, illuminated in the streetlights and Brittany longs to tuck it behind her ear. It feels like forever until they get home and Brittany can hardly wait to touch Santana. As soon as the door is closed behind them, Brittany pulls Santana to her and just holds her in an embrace. There’s no rush to have sex, there can be a moment of just being and Brittany breathes in the scent of Santana’s shampoo as she holds her close. A year ago, everything was brand new and now here they are, their whole life spread out before them.

“Thank you for dinner.” Brittany murmurs.

“Thank you for you.” Santana whispers back. “Do you want wine or anything?”

“I’m totally a little drunk from the champagne. I mostly just want to take you to bed.”

Santana nods and Brittany releases her from the embrace. They go to the bedroom and Santana stands in front of the bed. They both know that Brittany is really into undressing her so she doesn’t make to take off her dress. Instead, she pulls back the comforter and waits until Brittany stands in front of her, slowly easing the zipper down her back and kissing her shoulder. Brittany is always so adventurous when it comes to sex, but she knows that Santana’s favorite is soft and intimate and she wants to give her that. She slides the dress down Santana’s body and she slides her hands up Santana’s back, playing with her bra clasp before actually unhooking it.

When she finally does expose Santana’s breasts, she kisses her on the lips first, the moves her mouth lower, peppering kisses down her neck, across her collar bone, over the tops of her breasts, before stopping to take a nipple into her mouth. Santana arches into Brittany as she does it and Brittany smiles against her skin, letting her hands begin to slide down Santana’s panty hose. Putting her hands back against the bed to hold herself up, Santana has the balance so that when Brittany removes her mouth from her nipple and goes to finish undressing her, she has the balance to lift one foot at a time off the ground.

Once Santana is undressed, Brittany lays her back on the bed and quickly gets her own clothes off before crawling over Santana. She loves how she looks splayed out on silk sheets and she kisses her deeply, drinking all of her in. Santana tucks Brittany’s hair behind her ears so that she can see her face and Brittany just beams down at her, reveling in her own happiness. They do nothing but kiss for a long time and Brittany winds her hair through Santana’s dark curls, trying to get as close to her as she possibly can.

“I got so lucky with you.” Santana whispers. “You’re one of a kind.”

“You deserve good things, babe, and we’re good together.”

With a smile, Brittany moves back down Santana’s body. She laves plenty of attention on her breasts because she knows that it’s a sensitive spot for Santana, but then she moves further down, kissing Santana’s still-red scar from end to end. Santana squirms a little while she does it and Brittany is aware that she’s self-conscious about it—it took her a while to show Brittany, after all—but she wants to show her how she loves every bit of her, even the parts that are imperfect. Once she’s done with the scar, she spreads Santana’s legs and settles beneath them, propping herself up on her elbows. She’s been with women before but there’s never been anything quite like going down on Santana. It’s the one time in Santana’s life where she gets to completely let loose and Brittany loves watching someone so careful and controlled let it all go.

“Britt.” Santana moans as Brittany wraps her lips around her clit.

“You’re amped.” Brittany lifts her head and grins. “You know it’s better if you let me take my time.”

Brittany works her mouth against Santana until she falls apart, feet scrabbling against the sheets, hands holding her head closer. She waits until Santana’s hands loosen in her hair before she positions herself so her sex rubs against Santana’s. They’ve only done this a few times, but while Santana was surprised about it the first time, she’s seemed to enjoy it subsequent times and Brittany loves getting off like this. Santana is hot and slippery when Brittany moves against her and the though that she’s like that only because of her makes Brittany more turned on than she can imagine.

After she feels Santana come again first, Brittany finally lets herself go. As spent as she is after she falls apart, she manages to untangle her limbs from Santana and gather her up in her arms. She loves post-sex Santana, how sleepy and cuddly and warm she is, how she rests her head on Brittany’s chest and plays with her fingers. She’s soft and relaxed and Brittany kisses the top of her head. A year ago, she couldn’t imagine that they would be here like this. She couldn’t imagine that Santana would let her in, would relax in her arms, would let herself feel safe. But she has, and it makes Brittany really happy.

“Did you really mean what you said at dinner?” Brittany asks, touching the side of Santana’s face.

“I did. After the last time we went out with Mike and Artie, I think I started to understand why they did it. Things are falling apart right now and they wanted to make that commitment to each other in spite of everything else.”

“That’s what I wanted you to see that day. I don’t need a proposal from you until you’re ready, but I just want you to understand why our love isn’t less than anyone else’s.”

“It’s just hard for me. Maybe you’re too young to remember it, but back in the early seventies, Life magazine had this whole thing about gays. My father tore it up when he caught me reading it and cancelled his subscription. Every association I had with my sexuality was a bad one until you came along. I spent years hiding in dark bars and having one night stands. The idea of...oral sex was something I couldn’t even imagine because it was way too much. Even if we were to get married, I’ll still have to hide at work and from my family. Sometimes I just think that none of this is fair to you.”

“I want you, no matter what.” Brittany promises. “All I care about is how you make me feel, and you make me feel better than I ever have in my life.”

“I’m glad, because that’s how you make me feel too.”

“What do you think it’ll be like for us in fifty years?”

“I don’t know, maybe we won’t be living in the city anymore. Maybe we buy a house on Fire Island or up in the Catskills when we retire and we walk in the woods or on the beach every day. We could sit out on our porch and have our coffee in the morning. I guess all that really matters to me is that you’re there with me in fifty years, we can figure out the rest of the details when we get there.”

“Having a house out of the city sounds good, but don’t you love it here?”

“I like it enough. I love this house.” Santana shrugs. “But we could probably keep it.”

“I like talking about the future with you. I guess before I met you, I never really thought about it, I was just living one day at a time.”

“My future feels so much better with you in it. Imagine just thinking you were going to grow old alone.”

“Babe, that makes me sad.”

“You don’t have to feel sad, it’s not that way anymore.”

Brittany has to just hold Santana tightly for a few minutes after that, not saying anything. She may not have thought about the future, but she always figured she’d be with someone. For Santana to think she would have been alone makes Brittany feel heartbroken and she plays with the chain around her neck, knowing that’s not the case anymore. Santana burrows into Brittany’s chest and she kisses the top of her head. Santana is on top everywhere in the real world, but the fact that she lets herself be vulnerable in the bedroom, lets Brittany hold her, makes Brittany feel so glad that she can be something for someone that’s given her so much.

“I wish tomorrow was Saturday.” Santana finally says. “I’d really like to sleep in.”

“By sleep in, do you mean eight o’clock?” Brittany laughs.

“Hey, it’s sleeping in for me.”

“Do you want to maybe take a ride upstate on my bike this weekend? I’m probably not going to have much longer to take it out this year and the leaves are changing so it could be totally cool.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’d like to just relax and not think about anything.”

“Is work okay?” Brittany asks.

“We don’t have to talk about work in bed.”

“If there’s something you want to talk about, I don’t care where we are.”

“It’s just been a lot of stress lately. Hudson won’t leave me alone and I think firing him will just make everyone act up worse. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re the boss, they should respect you.”

“I’m a woman in a man’s world, a Hispanic woman at that. I’m never going to get the same respect as a man in my position.” Santana sighs.

“I think it’s kind of bullshit, you work harder than anyone.”

“Brittany, you know as well as I do that it isn’t always about how hard you work. There are workplace politics, I have to play the game and try not to ruffle any feathers. Honestly, I wouldn’t put it above Hudson to go to my higher ups if I fired him and who knows what he would say about me.”

“Are you scared about...you know?”

“I’m always scared about that. I know that standing up for Hummel put me out there but I couldn’t not do it. As far as they know, I’m single, I’m what they call a man-eater. There are tells there.”

“Babe.”

“I’m just saying he could blackmail me with his very little evidence and concealing something and lying are two very different things.”

“So you have to let him have control?”

“I have to do what it takes to keep me job. The life we live depends on it.”

“You know we could live in a tiny one bedroom apartment and I’d still love you, right? All of this is just...extra.”

“I know.” Santana nods, playing with Brittany’s hair. “But I worked really hard for all of this and I want to keep it.”

“I get that. I just want you to protect yourself too.”

“I think that’s what I’m doing, even if it feels like a shitty way of going about it.”

“I support you whatever you want to do, I just hate when you’re all stressed out.”

“I’m very relaxed right now.” She laughs a little. “You made sure of that.”

“And we’re going to have a majorly relaxing weekend.”

“Definitely. Let’s just get through tomorrow first.”

[demonsonthemoon]

We Shall Rule - Chapter 13

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Comics Pairings: Platonic Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton, background Kate Bishop/America Chavez Word Count: 4270 Note: this is the last chapter, only a small epilogue left. Happy #AggressivelyArospecWeek.

Also available on AO3.

Bucky found himself standing in front of Clint's apartment building. In the rain, because the universe hated him. He pressed the doorbell for the third time. He knew the intercom was broken from the last time he had come here, which was why he had sent Clint a text telling him he was on his way. Clint could have replied that he wasn't home, but he hadn't, which Bucky had taken as a sign that he was actually at his flat even though unwilling to reply.

He was about to press the button a fourth time when he heard a voice calling his name.

He took a step back and looked up, and recognised Kate looking down at him from the window of Clint's kitchen.

“I'm sorry,” Kate shouted. “He says he wants you to leave. And to stop ringing the doorbell because he's hungover as fuck and it's making his headache worse.” She turned back towards the inside of the flat for a second. “He's also telling me not to shout so loudly but since he's making me talk to you from here because he's too grumpy to deal with his feelings, I don't care.” She turned around again. “He just took out his hearing aids. What a child.”

Bucky was craning his neck and feeling quite in awe of Kate's energy even as her long black hair started gathering rain. Though that did not help him come up with a response, especially as Kate leaned against the window ledge, making herself more comfortable.

“I just want to talk to him,” Bucky finally shouted back. “We had a fight yesterday and... I just want to talk to him. I want to understand and...”

“Apologize?” Kate asks, tone managing to be soft despite the fact that she was literally shouting at him.

Bucky hesitates for a second. “I'm not sure. I don't think I understand exactly what went wrong, so I don't know if I have to apologize or not.”

He saw Kate nod thoughtfully then walk back into the appartment. Bucky guessed that she couldn't just talk with Clint from the window anymore, since she would need to force him to watch her signs to make herself understood.

For two minutes, Bucky awkwardly stood there, drenched, the rainwater constantly falling into his eyes and blurring his sight. At least he felt awake now, contrary to when he had woken up from his night of bad sleep. Bucky was really hoping none of Clint's neighbours was here, because he was certain the scene was quite a sight.

Kate came back to the window, beaming. “I am literally the best at life, and you owe me. I'll buzz you in.”

Bucky let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Kate!”

He took the two steps to the front door and waited for the sound of the buzzer activating, quickly pushing in. His long hair was sticking uncomfortably to one side of his face and dripping everywhere, but he couldn't bring himself to care too much. Instead he quickly started the climb towards Clint's appartment.

Kate was waiting for him by the door wearing a lavender sweater and pyjama bottoms.

“Look for the huge lump on the sofa, and you'll find Clint. I'm gonna take a walk to give you some privacy, but I will be back in fifteen minutes. So don't ruin this. Don't ruin him. I will kick your ass then ask my girlfriend to kick it again.”

Bucky nodded, almost solemn. He had heard stories about America's ass-kicking. That girl could be terrifying.

Kate stopped while walking past him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can do this.”

And then she left, in all of her pyjama-clad glory.

Bucky stepped inside the apartment proper, softly closing the door behind him.

“Kate is a traitor,” Clint mumbled as Bucky sat down on the arm of his couch, as far away as he could from Clint.

“I just want to talk to you,” Bucky said.

There was no response from Clint, who was really not much more than a mop of blond hair and two eyes peeking out of a blanket lump.

“I'm sorry. Not about what I said. I don't...” Bucky sighed. “I don't actually know what I said wrong that made you go off like that. But I'm sorry about what happened.”

There was a moment of silence, and when Bucky didn't start talking again, Clint just said “Okay.”

He wasn't gonna make it easy, then.

“I thought I was looking out for you. I get that... that you may have felt patronized. But that wasn't my point at all.” He tried to remember Clint's exact words. You're pissed off because I didn't get defensive? “I wasn't even angry. Not really. Not at you. I was... I don't know. I felt responsible. I felt bad, that you had to deal with Peggy like that... That you had been anxious about coming, and that I had told you it would all be okay even though I was also scared, and then that that happened. And I was... I was hurt. I knew it wasn't about me. It wasn't my problem. But it still hurt. I don't know.”

“You stopped talking,” Clint said, still tense under his blanket.

Bucky crossed one arm over his chest, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“I know. I... I get like that. Sometimes. Kind of... dissociate. Like... like everthing is distant. A step off.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Why do I dissociate? Because that's a-”

“No, no. Why did you dissociate this time. What triggered it?”

“I told you. I felt... bad.” It wasn't the word. It wasn't enough. It wasn't the good answer, and Bucky was trying, he was looking for something better to say, but he couldn't.

Clint mumbled something that he didn't catch.

“What did you say?”

“It wasn't your place. It wasn't your place, and it wasn't your problem. It wasn't your right to get hurt or angry on my behalf.”

“It's only because I care!” Bucky replied, trying to keep his voice calm even if he could feel the same panicked and defensive confusion he had experienced the night before rise up inside of him.

“I'm not your futzing responsibility.” Clint said, looking straight ahead of him and not at Bucky.

“You're my friend!” Bucky's voice wavered a bit. “We're... close. I... This is not about me feeling like I own any part of you, this isn't about propriety. I care about you. Of course I don't want you to feel hurt. Or invaded. I can't choose not to care about that.”

“I wasn't hurt!” Clint said, raising his voice a little and pulling the blanket off his face. “You were. That's always what happens. I try to deal with my own futzing problems, but other people still get hurt. I let them get close, and they get hurt. You wouldn't have thought twice about Peggy's comments before meeting me, and now they caused you to fucking dissociate at a dinner table.”

What... Bucky had trouble following Clint's train of thought and his changes in emotions.

“That's not... That's not your fault! I might not have reacted to what Peggy said before meeting you, sure. I probably wouldn't have. That doesn't mean it wasn't fucked up. That doesn't mean I regret that you opened my eyes about that. Sure, I could have lived unaware of how bullshit it is to think that every important relationship is romantic. Maybe that would have been easier! I don't know. Maybe I wouldn't ever have realised it on my own, or maybe I would have. But I don't regret it. How is anything going to change if everyone chooses to keep their head in the ground?”

“Change?” Clint asked, incredulous. “Who said anything about change? I'm not here to change the futzing world. I just want to live my life. That's literally all I'm asking for.”

“You...” Bucky felt slow. Had it always been this difficult to understand people? Was it just more difficult now? Or was it just because he hadn't tried to make new connections in so long, not connections that really mattered, nothing on the level of what he had with Steve? “You say you don't want people to get hurt. You say you don't want me to get hurt. But what about you? Why do you make it sound like it's so selfish for me to care about what people say to you? How is it any different? Why should you get hurt instead of me?”

“I wasn't hurt. I told you I wasn't hurt.”

“Maybe not yesterday!” Bucky said, raising his voice and gesturing with his hands. “You tell me you didn't care about what Peggy said, and fine, I'll take your word for it. But you must have been hurt before. At some point. You must have been angry at some point.”

“You want to know the truth?” Clint asked, finally lowering the blanket to his hips and turning to face Bucky. “For real? Well I am angry. I'm angry all the freaking time. I've been angry for years and it hasn't gotten me anywhere except for the hospital. You think I let people say anything they want because I don't have any self-respect or something? That's not fucking it. The truth is, I respect myself enough not to let my anger become one more thing people can hate about me.”

“That's...”

“No, let me finish. I've been at this for years. Trying to have people see something in me that's not just me being deaf, me being an orphan, me being a way to make money or the weird queer who wants to spend his life alone. I don't want to ruin all I've built to become the angry guy. That's no trade at all. You know why we call pride a fucking celebration? Because nobody likes an angry queer. That's why we show up with glitters and feathers, and not political slogans. Because if we did people might realise they still hate us just enough to beat us with a stick. So all of this anger, this hurt as you call it? It's mine. I've fought to keep it. You don't get to take it away.”

Bucky felt like it was pointless to argue this point. He could repeat endlessly that pain wasn't meant to be carried alone, that this is what friends were for, but he didn't think it would have any effect.

“What if I've got anger of my own? Don't you think I could be angry, not just on your behalf but because the world is generally unfair? Or do you have a monopoly on all the anger in the world?”

“That's not...”

“I don't know, Clint. I get that I fucked up. That I didn't communicate properly, or whatever. But this shit is hard for me. You're the first person I actually tried to get close to since... since I joined the army and nearly got myself killed. So sometimes I don't know how to say things. That's just the way it is. But I've been trying to fix things for the last ten minutes, and Kate promised to kick my ass in five, so just... I don't know. I want to know if you want to fix this too.”

“Fuck.” Clint lowered his head, putting his hands over it. “Fuck. I didn't mean for it to get this way.” He looked up. “You've got to believe me, Bucky. I didn't mean for it to get this way. I know it's stupid. I know it doesn't make sense for me to be this...” He sighed.

Bucky wanted to reach out, to run a hand through his hair like he used to do to Steve when he still had long hair, when he was too sick to go to school and ashamed that Bucky had to bring him his notes.

And then he did. He reached out towards Clint. He put a hand over the bunched up blanket on his knees and started playing with the fabric, his touch there but also easy to brush away.

“It's easier not to let people in.” Clint ended up admitting. “If I fuck up- When I fuck up, at least it's done, then. People leave, and I don't have to worry about hurting them anymore. I don't have to worry about not being enough, about holding them back. They're gone, and they're free, and I'm back at dealing with myself again. I've gotten good at that. Dealing with myself. Or at least decent enough.”

“Why would I want to leave? We had one fight. We misunderstood each other and had one fight. Do you know how many fights I've had with Steve? There were weeks when it felt like fighting was all we were doing.”

“Because I'm not enough. Because I'm never enough. It's really pathetic, Bucky, but I'm one of those people that are made to be left behind.”

The worst thing wasn't the words he had just said, though those were bad enough. No, for Bucky, the worst thing was that Clint smiled as he said them.

“That's bullshit,” a voice interrupted.

Clint and Bucky turned over the back of the couch to stare at Kate, who was drinking some kind of frappuccino, letting her hair drip all over the floor, and looking unimpressed.

“That's futzing bullshit and you would know it if you opened your eyes for one futzing second.” She had a way of seeming collected and threatening all at once that made Bucky feel awed. “I'm here. I've been here for years. I've dealt with everything there was to deal with, I've seen you at some serious lows, dude.” She took a sip of her drink. “And I'm still here. So stop the bullshit about being made to be left behind. It's just that people are too dumb to see through your game when you try to push them away.”

“You can't just call everyone dumb for realising I'm an asshole and trying to find something better!”

“Sure I can,” Kate replied vindicatively. “Because you're not an asshole.”

“You call me that all the time!” Clint protested.

Bucky was starting to feel like a third wheel in the argument, but at the same time he was grateful that Kate had managed to pull Clint out of his coldness. An angry Clint seemed somehow more natural than one pretending he didn't feel anything.

“I call you that when you're being an asshole. But you're not one in, like, your insides. Fundamentally. Whatever. You're actually a genuinely decent person. You let me squat your flat and even keep cereals stocked in a cupboard for me. You bought a building just so your neighbours wouldn't be evicted. Hell, even Lucky is a stray you picked up when anyone else would have left him to die!”

“That's nothing.”

“It's not futzing nothing, Clint! You do all these things, you always try to be such a good person! And then you fuck up. Sure! You've fucked up a few times, maybe even a lot of times. Newsflash. Everyone does. But at least you try to be something else than your fuck ups. At least you try to get back up. Some people would just wallow in their fucked-upness, and not even try anything else. You don't.”

“That's a low bar you're setting.”

Kate groaned, running a hand through her hair and clenching her fist. “You know what's the one thing I can't stand about you? It's this. It's this pushing-people-away thing. Because you don't actually want people to leave. You try to convince yourself that you do, but you don't, not really. It's all some kind of stupid self-punishment. You think you've done something bad, so you think you deserve to be left alone, and so you force people to leave. But you're punishing them, not you. You're burning bridges and telling them it's so they won't have to do it themselves. But you're not letting them decide for themselves if they actually want to cross the futzing river or not. And that's what I call being an asshole.”

Clint drew his knees up and hugged them to himself, clearly feeling the edge of truth in Kate's words and not liking it. There was a small silence as she took her breath back and Bucky started fidgeting a bit, unsure if he was supposed to leave or not.

Before he could make any decisive movement, though, she stopped him. “I'm not done. Because god help me for once I have a chance to stop this before it all goes to shit. This one-” She pointed at Bucky with her index finger. “You keep. I don't care what happened last night. If he's here right now he clearly wants to stay, so as long as he does, you keep him. Non-negotiable.”

“That's not how this work, Kate,” Clint replied.

“Did I futzing stutter?”

Bucky couldn't help but smile. Kate Bishop was truly a hurricane of a human, a force of nature to be reckoned with. He was glad that Clint had her in his life. He also wondered what would happen were she ever to meet Steve, and decided that this was a dangerous path to tread.

When there was no more response from Clint, Kate nodded to herself. “Okay. Good. Now. I can see you still haven't finished your heart-to-heart, so I'll give you some more time because I am very generous.”

“This isn't even your flat, we don't need your permission to-”

Kate ignored her friend and went on. “But before that, I'm going to get dressed. Because while I can rock the just-out-of-bed-haven't-changed-yet look to go to the local coffee shop, I am now drenched and would appreciate not to catch pneumonia.” And with that she left the room and went inside Clint's bedroom, droplets of water from her hair trailing behind her.

“So,” Bucky started, wanting to break the silence but not actually knowing what to say.

Clint sighed. “So.”

“I don't want to leave.”

Clint let his head drop to the back of the couch, covering his eyes with one hand. “Fuck.”

Bucky didn't quite know what to say to that.

“Maybe I believe you,” Clint finally continued. “That you don't want to leave. But that doesn't mean you won't. It doesn't mean you won't find something else. Something that's actually good for you, instead of my bullshit. And then... well. How could I blame you, right?”

“By something, you mean someone, right?”

Clint chuckled darkly. “Yeah. That's usually how it goes.”

“I can't promise anything,” Bucky said, and the words felt bitter and wrong in his mouth. Not enough, but true. “Obviously I can't promise that I won't ever leave you. But I don't want to. And I'm not looking to replace you. Us. Anything. I like you. And I like what we've got. And I want to keep it. Whatever happens in the future, you've got to believe that that's true now. And that I want it to stay true.”

He raised his hand off Clint's knee and pulled it back to himself, giving the other man more space as he prepared his question.

“Has it happened often? People leaving you?”

Clint took his time to respond. “A few times. Enough times.”

“What happened?”

The question was vague. Vague enough to let Clint choose how many details he was willing to give away. Vague enough for him to say nothing, if he really believed that Bucky was out of line once again.

“They all left. Some because they'd found a girlfriend, or a boyfriend. Others because I just wasn't enough. Because I was too much work. Most of them because I ended up pushing them away. Because they felt too close and too important and it felt wrong and I was scared and I thought I would ruin them. Because if they were gonna leave anyway, it might as well be before any of us got too involved. It might as well be while we still have a chance not to be hurt by it.”

“If your goal was not to get hurt, you did a pretty poor job of it.”

Clint started laughing, before the sound turned into a sob. “Didn't I?”

There was no denying it, not when Bucky had found him hidden under a blanket and refusing to open the door, not when Bucky had seen the worry in Kate's eyes.

“That's what I'm saying, you know?” Clint was rubbing at his eyes, as if he could dry them before the tears had even fallen. “I fuck up. I always fuck up. I can barely deal with my own shit, why would anyone take it upon themselves to care about it too?”

“I ask myself the same thing all the time,” Bucky replied. Thoughtlessly, he started rubbing his thumb against the wrist joint of his prosthesis. “I...” He hesitated, but, fuck, if they were having a heart-to-heart, might as well go all the way. “I'm a burden for Steve. I mean, objectively speaking. He would kick my ass if he knew I had said that. And then he would apologize for it. But objectively speaking... I can't work. I don't really have any hobby. I just hang around the flat, cleaning stuff and cooking, and let him invite me to hang-outs with his other friends. I get... benefits. For my time in the army and the injury. But it's not much. A lot of it goes into therapy. So yeah.”

Clint was looking at him now, obviously sorry though nice enough not to actually say it out loud. Bucky hated when people apologized for something that had nothing to do with them. He knew they were trying to be nice, but he couldn't help feeling pissed off by it. Even if it was true, even if people really were sorry, it felt wrong to say.

“Objectively speaking, I'm useless. But that doesn't mean anything, to Steve. He keeps telling me that it doesn't mean anything. And obviously it was hard at first. I didn't... I didn't want to rely on someone. But I couldn't not, you know? And some bad stuff had happened between us after I'd left for the army, but he forgave me. I was here, broken, unwilling to be helped, ruining his life, and the first thing he did was forgive me.”

Bucky stayed quiet for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts. It was still difficult to look back on that time when he barely talked, barely got out of bed. Realising that he was a stranger to his family, that his best friend was a stranger to him. But Steve had forced him to get up. He had dragged Bucky kicking and screaming into his life.

“What I mean to say is... That's not how it works. Friendship. Relationships. Anything. People who love you, they don't care if you're objectively good for them or not. The only thing that matters is that they do love you, even if you don't know why and even if they don't know why, and that's good enough. You can't really do anything about the fact that you love someone. Pushing people away for no good reason won't help you or them. It will just hurt everyone.”

Clint sighed, body relaxing slightly. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Okay?” Bucky asked, surprised. He hadn't believed it would be as easy as that. Words had this way of never being enough, usually. He'd talked for days with his therapist now, and it never felt like it was enough. Even the things that rung like the purest truth in one moment would lose their meaning the next second.

“Okay. I'm not... I'm like you. I won't make promises I can't keep. So I won't promise I'm never going to pull this shit again.” He chuckled darkly. “I'm probably gonna pull this shit again at some point. But... you should call me out on it. And I'll try to be better.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Shit.” Clint let out a short laugh. “We're like the futzing Fault in our Stars. I can't believe this.”

Bucky smiled too. “So I'm forgiven?”

Clint shrugged. “I don't think I ever had a good reason to be mad at you. Just... oh god this is gonna sound so weird. Sorry. Just tell me if you ever fall in love with someone? That's... That's the main reason people end up leaving.”

“Okay,” Bucky said. “I'll do that. I'm not... I'm not looking, if that's something you're worried about. It's not really something that's been on my mind at all these past few months.”

“Cool. That's good.” There was a slight pause. “I mean, if you're okay with it. It's not... it's good for me but only if it's not bothering you. I didn't mean...”

Bucky couldn't help but smile. “It's fine, Clint. I'm fine. I'm okay. I don't miss it. I've got you right now, I've got Steve. I have friends. That's enough. It's good.”

“Okay.”

They leaned towards each other then, resting their foreheads against the other's.

And maybe Kate snapped a picture on her phone after silently creeping back into the living-room.

Maybe.

[theangelshavethephonebooth]

OKAY so, concept*: semi closeted trans lesbian Niles Crane. 

*At first it’s denial, a lifetime of being called gay and a girl like it was a bad thing, just because of the stuff she likes, but Fraiser likes the same stuff and he’s just like her right? So that’s it then, she can push those troglodytes out of her mind and that’s high school sorted. 

*(Of course, there’s the Field Hockey incident with Frasier, and she wants to point out that the “F” probably means girls but then, why does she notice when he doesn’t? She stays silent, and it all blows up in his face and he throws the “kilt” out in disgust and embarassment. Niles picks it up, intending to wash and return it to the school. They replace the uniforms the next year and never notice one is missing.)

*But, then college, med school, the study of the human mind. psychology introduces her to the concept of being trans. Some professors refer to it as a mental disorder, which doesn’t sit well with her, some a lifestyle choice, which isn’t great either. Theres one professor, an anthropology 101 class she had to take, who talks about how gender and sex are different, how many cultures had genders beyond male and female. The rest of the class was bored but Niles was riveted. 

(She still talks to that professor, years later with a wife and son. They have a lot in common, as it turns out.)

 College doesn’t quite do it, but Niles starts to examine her life and sexuality, and knows Fraiser does the same, but his anxious introspection seems almost like a intellectual exercise in a way her’s never does.

Her’s feels serious, life and death, like she’s teetering on the edge of some kind of breakthrough.

Then she meets Maris, and it all goes out the window.

She’s head over heels, absolutely smitten. Maris is the first girl who’s liked her for how she is, fussy and intellectual and a bit obsessed with shoes. Maris is just as strange as Niles, thin and sick and rich beyond belief in a way that makes her eccentric and exciting. 

Niles figures that if she’s in love with Maris, then she can’t be a gay man. After all, men are the ones who fall in love with women. Aren’t they?

Infatuation and mutual appreciation for each other’s strangeness gets them through a few years, but eventually that fades, and Niles is stuck, married to a women she doesn’t really love and as a person she’s starting to believe she’s never really been.

Then she meets Daphne. 

quick step back: Roz, (who is pan in this AU), has her gaydar screaming at her when she meets Niles for the first time. Of course, so do most people, but most people believe Niles when they see "him" struck dumb by women, when told by “his” family that Niles is straight. Most people aren't Roz. She knows off the bat that Fraiser isn't and Niles is, that Daphne gave her the lesbian nod when they met, that Tom the station manager has a thing for Fraiser, etc etc

She doesn't catch the trans thing until months later she recognizes a silk shirt Niles wears under his waistcoat as the same one an ex girlfriend had. Covered up, it looks like any dress shirt, but the ruffles and lace give it away.

Niles snipes at her at first bc she's jealous, of Roz's hair and skirts and open sexual identity**, and Roz does bc she doesn't stand for men, queer or straight, taking potshots at her sexuality. By the time she figures out that Niles may be closeted but most def not a man, it's settled into a snarky battle of barbs between frenimes.

A sidenote: Roz is absolutely not the first queer person in Niles social circle, but she is the first women. Niles might not seek out queer spots, but she appears to be an effeminate man with the associated social circles: fashion conscious, foodie, shoe obsessed with a thing for nice suits, theres no way she doesn't know queer men. This goes for canon too, although in canon i suppose he doesn't befriend them?

So, if Roz is the first queer women Niles meets, Daphne is the second. So, when Niles meets Daphne, well.

Niles is, like many of us, a bit of a useless lesbian around attractive women.

As much as I would like to make Daph the british butchy but still femme lesbian of my dreams, love the trope where the trans person is all "but you only like X gender/sex, and I'm Y" even tho they are, of course trans, and the cis partner is all "exactly, i only like X gender, which is why I like you" and then everyone blushes and is happy and validated and goddamnit, its wonderful, BUT it interfers w/ characterization too much. Fraiser and Martin would, i suppose, be a bit firmer with Niles if they believed the crush was that of a fruitless and predatory nature, a straight man chasing an uninterested lesbian. (Or at least, I hope they would!)

So, Daphne's bi, or pan, or frankly doesn't give a shit, maybe she only brings home men, or maybe she is gay and the boys, clueless as they are, don't notice that when she says girlfriend she doesn't mean "girl who is my friend"

Niles notices.

Daph is in a weird position, especially if she is gay. She's an employee, much as they all sometimes forget, her housing and job is contingent on keeping them happy. Fraiser might seem accepting but Martin is sometimes, especially in the early days, v rigid about gender roles, and Frasier a bit nosy and dammit, a women has a right to her privacy.

So maybe she's gay, but she plays the pronoun game, avoids names or only mentions names like "Sam" "Donnie" "Andy" or "Josh"

And of course, there's "Uncle Jackie", who canon is kinda shitty 2, but Daph seems pretty accepting of. Its the 90s, so IDK proper terms, but here, Daph always uses she/her pronouns. Fraiser and Martin use he when the subject comes up, or similar ones, like a caller on the show, tho both usually try, (training or, for Martin, the memory of the strong slap he received upon calling a 6'2 witness "he" at a crime scene once) but Daphne doesn't correct them, at least not until later, when she's truly family, not just the help.

Niles always uses she to refer to Jackie, always asks how a patient identified themselves and takes a best guess, and eventually notices that Daphne does the same

Niles’s crush on Daphne is one part actual crush, one part "do I want you or want to be you" and honestly, is the last straw, the catalyst that make Niles actually admit that she's a women. (Probably a gay women, although in the right light she can find men attractive.)

She's always bought Maris gifts that, in hindsight, were a bit too big (tho it is actually hard to find things that fit her garden rake of a wife), and just masculine enough to pass as fashion forward male garb, and she remembers the hoarded skirt from high school, never returned or worn but hidden away, still somewhere in her side of the house.

She wants to tell Frasier, Maris, even Dad, but though her personal revalation is elating to her, its really big, too big, and it's still the 90s or 2000s, out trans people aren't exactly common and frankly, this is too scary and she's still fussy anxious Niles Crane, so she stays in the closet.

Roz, we know, figures it out, sees the change from effeminate but male fashion to a more feminine style, women's blouses masquerading as dress shirts under vests, manicures not only becoming more common but slowly replacing simple buffing with clear polish, or a nude tint, almost pink. She sees Niles grow out her hair, just a bit, just enough so that when she tilts just right it almost looks like a bob, but she never says anything. They aren't friends like that, aren't close, and Niles seems to be discrete. Roz suspects that if Niles knew she knows, she'd come out b4 she's ready.

Niles knows she can't do much, not while married to Maris. They live in the public eye and the rich snobs she aspires to be would never accept her, and, crush on Daphne aside, that's alright with her (for now), but playing with her hair, a bit of makeup or clothing now and again was fun and makes her feel better.

She wants to tell her family soon.

Martin suspects...something, tho I don't suppose "my son is actually my daughter" would be his first thought, and Daphne always calls her Dr. Crane, never Mr., not focusing on her unfortunately male sounding name. 

Niles, is a bit clueless, thinks its just respect or formality, a sign she'll never be close to Daphne, but Daphne, unaware of the crush, means it as an acknowledgement of who Niles is, the women hiding in men's Italian suits.

Then the seperation, Maris cheating, the divorce, the therapy, Donnie and Mel.

At this point, Daph is out to the Cranes, Niles knows she has a chance (v slim, for Daphne believes her to be A Man, which of course she doesn't but Niles doesn't know that) but Frasier and Martin dial up the "keep Niles away from Daphne" campaign, believing themselves more then ever to be helping (eye roll, even in canon F did more harm then good, keeping them apart during the whole bs w/ Maris, I have to believe its mostly habit at this point, although in this AU it makes sense)

And then Niles hires the top divorce lawyer in Seattle, Roz's ex.

Donna "Donnie" Douglas.

When Niles and Roz scheme to get their ones who got away back, Niles, worried that Roz will think her some kind of exploitive homophobic trash, comes out to her. Roz of course knows, makes sure she's ok for about for a second, then goes right back to their weird teasing friendship

Somehow it all comes out to Daphne too, but everything else goes much the same, only now,  Niles is officially one of the girls.

From there, everything again, works out much the same, Niles meets Mel, Donny and Daph get serious, they all decide to get married, Niles and Daphne realize they're in love w/ each other more then their respective gfs, but Daphne cancels her wedding/commitment ceremony while Niles goes through w/ hers.

EXCEPT: Niles has been preparing to come out, just to the rest of her close friends, family and Mel, means to do it b4 the marriage but loses the nerve, so when it all comes out with Daphne, it really all comes Out.

the thing is, Mel knows, and Niles told her, but Mel is very deliberately obtuse about it, and its a quiet part of the party argument, something about lying and excuses. Niles keeps trying, hoping to make her Get It, to no avail. After the hoopla she pretends she had no idea, that Niles kept this from her, yadda yadda.

Mel is awful (and I hate her), so she forces Niles to pretend to be a doting husband rather then an unwilling wife, up until the point she gets fed up. 

Niles gets angry, Daphne feels abandoned and alone so she tells Mel its over

She won't pretend to be someone she's not with Mel, she won't hurt herself or the women she loves anymore.

A snippet from that night: "I can't be your husband Mel, I never could."

Mel storms out, friends around her and the Cranes are better for it.

After that, Niles stops pretending, grows out her hair long again, considers hormones and surgery, but lives mostly stealth, content to pass as male to strangers and patients as she adjusts to her family knowing her as their daughter and sister, instead of son and brother.

It's weird, but good.

In this au that whole "make Daph fat bc Jane is preggers" arc doesn't happen, instead it's Niles body image arc, presenting as female and all the passing issues

When their mother's friend visits and assumes Roz is Niles she responds by saying "no, sorry I'm Roz, I work with Frasier, but you're not far off the mark." And Frasier adds something along the lines of "Niles will be here soon, she's just running late."

Martin also keeps slipping up, refering to sons, youngest son, brothers, he, my boys etc, correcting himself but not used to it yet, but this episode is the first time he consistently and firstly says my daughter, your sister, she, my kids.

They get married a little earlier, but having their son takes time bc Niles already had "slow sperm" and the hormones interfer a bit.

They still are about to decide to get help whn Daphne realizes shes knocked up

Niles never drastically changes her appearance, comfortable in her lean body, shortish hair, too big hands. She takes hormones and has her clothes altered to fit her changing frame but never tries to change her voice, or enhance her breasts, and choses not to undergo any kind of surgery until after she and Daphne are done having kids

*born of thinking about lesbian Niles and a throw away joke made in an episode where an old family friend mistook Roz for Niles, which took “oh what if Niles was trans to” from a background thought to a full blown AU

**Roz and Daphne date for about 10 seconds, more of a sexual friendship then a romance, then settle into a comfortably queer friendship, but Roz dating Daph first certainly didn't help her and Niles becoming friends

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

A beginner's guide to sexting as enthusiastic consent

Sexting gets a bad rep. But we shouldn't confuse the sins of an unsolicited dick pic with the gift of an enthusiastically consensual dick pic.

Getting horny with your partner over text isn't just great foreplay. For many it can also act as an ideal space for establishing enthusiastic consent, exploring each other's sexual fantasies, kinks, boundaries, and limitations.

In the age of #MeToo, we're finally talking about how to change our sexual culture to ensure everyone's having a great time during a sexual encounter. But often, dissenters frame consent like it's a contract you have to sign before touching each other. (Those people clearly haven't seen Fifty Shades of Grey, where the BDSM contract is hotter than the actual sex scenes.)

Far from a binding contract, enthusiastic consent is by definition exciting, sexy, flexible, and an act of discovery. But sometimes — especially in monogamous heteronormative relationships — it's hard to know what it looks like IRL, or how to avoid the awkwardness of having those conversations in the heat of the moment.

SEE ALSO: A survival guide to dick pics (both solicited and unsolicited)

"Sexting can be great for negotiation because you can talk about all of it without looking directly into their eyes. And for many people, that lessens the fear of rejection or feelings of shame," said psychologist, author, teacher, and sex coach Liz Powell.

Swiping right, but in a sexual way.

Image: vicky leta / mashable 

Aside from being a great avenue for enthusiastic consent, SMS thirstiness is already redefining the way we have sexual and intimate relationships. And studies have shown that it can be an essential part to a healthy relationship, including potentially increasing sexual satisfaction.

"Sexting is becoming normative," said Jeff R. Temple, a behavioral researcher from University of Texas who studies the impact of things like sexting. According to his findings, "over half of emerging adults report sexting, and with the ubiquity of smartphones, that number is only going to increase."

Whether or not we like it, sexting is here to stay. And like IRL sex, we need to start talking about ways to do it right, ensuring that we engage in this newer form of intimacy safely, consensually, and positively. Which is to say: Let's make sure sexting stays sexy, not creepy.

So here's your guide to having a healthy sexting relationship with your partner(s), as a form of sexual communication that's still hot and heavy, but also chill and on your own time.

1. Establish rules of engagement

First to state the obvious: Absolutely never assume someone wants a sext from you, even if you've had sex before. And even if you've talked about sexting before, you need to lay down some ground rules for how you each like to sext. And this guide assumes the reader is of age, since there's all sorts of legal and safety issues that come into play if you're a minor.

Before diving head first into a full on sexting relationship, have an explicit and straightforward conversation.

"A lot of the time we wander into the first time we sext our partners .... One of you says, something like, 'Oh I'm thinking about you' or, 'Remember how hot that kiss we had was?'" said Powell. "I suggest checking back in after that first time and saying, 'What was great for you about that? What are things I can do more, or less next time?' But also practical things like, "Hey in the future do we need to get explicit consent before? Can I send you sexts any time? Do you want pics?'" 

For example, some people like a surprise sext while others feel it's a total violation. Being considerate is the most important part of this early negotiation process. 

"At the beginning, start by initiating late at night or at a time when you know the other person has some privacy," Vanessa Marin, a psychotherapist who specializes in sex therapy, said.

If you're worried about being caught while your screen sharing during a meeting, make sure you both turn off "Preview Messages" mode on your phone setting. 

No one wants to see their partner's genitals at the dinner table.

Image: vicky leta / mashable art team

Or try designating Snapchat or another app like Signal as your sexting platform, keeping things separate and so you know what the fuck is up without needing to open anything. It's important to note that Snapchat does not guarantee your privacy, since pictures you send are stored by the company and are also vulnerable to workarounds so users can save your pictures. Signal has end-to-end encryption and disappearing messages, but someone can always take a screenshot or picture of your sext using another camera. 

Both Powell and Marin suggest pacing yourself at the start of any sexting relationship, regardless of how long you've been together or how far you've gone sexually IRL.

"You don't want to get carried away because it's easy to put the other person in an uncomfortable situation before you know how they like it," said Marin.

That's not to mention that ramping things up slowly is a totally great tease. If you go too fast, like jumping from super explicit texts right into nudes, you don't leave enough room for anticipation.

Give each other time to develop a natural sexting cadence. This is about enjoying the (at times agonizingly teasing) journey, rather than racing to the finish line.

2. Initiate by first calling back to a moment of real-life intimacy

There's one pretty sure-fire way to test the waters with a potential sexting partner.

"If you and your partner have already been intimate in real life, ease in by talking about what a great time you had or why you can't stop thinking about it," said Marin. "You're introducing the topic without being too explicit. It gives your partner the opportunity to respond in a way where you can gauge whether they want to go into more detail or not."

Also, Marin pointed out, "because you're referencing something you already know the person was into, there's a higher chance they won't be uncomfortable by reliving it through sexting."

3. Learn more about your own sexuality, body, and desires first

Maybe all this still sounds too fast for you, especially if you've never sexted before. That's why an essential part to developing your sexting skills is understanding your own sexuality on a solo basis.

Checking in with yourself is in important step.

Image: Vicky Leta / Mashable

In Powell's experience, that's especially the case for people who were socialized as women, or who are trans, queer, or non-binary.

"Cis-gendered men get a lot of encouragement to explore their own bodies, sexualities, a variety of different types of porn," she said. Even then, though, they're still taught to not explore the less traditionally masculine forms of pleasure, like anal or pegging.

"But people who are socialized as women don't get any of those lessons. We are the sexual objects, not the sexual subjects ... You're given the message that your partner will explore sex for you, so you don't need to take the time to explore your own pleasure," she said.

"For people who are trans or nonbinary or when you're in a body that doesn't always necessarily match your understanding of your own gender, it can be really complicated to know what embodied pleasure looks like for you."

That's why both Powell and Marin believe that everyone — regardless of gender — can up their sexting game by venturing into new forms of self love before bringing a partner into the mix.

"Finding ways to tap into what turns you on when you're alone is essential to connecting with other people," said Powell.

4. Develop your own sexual vocabulary (together)

The most common fears Powell and Marin hear about sexting is how people don't know what to say. They both have handouts for clients with common phrases, words, verbs, and strategies.

"We don't have a lot of rich sexual language modeled for us in our culture. So having a bank of words that you can pull from so that it's more like mad libs and less like creative prose can be a lot easier, especially if you're starting out," said Powell.

But ideally, you'd find your own sexting voice. Which is where those lessons in self-exploration come in. Read erotica to see what resonates with you and put those sentiments into your own words to develop your own "cheat sheet," Powell said. You may want to start with Literotica, a free online anthology of textual porn, Marin suggested. Or if you want to peruse more curated and better-written examples, Refinery29 does a weekly erotica roundup.

"Practice your own erotic writing without sending it to your partner so you can figure out what turns you on, what doesn't," Marin added.

This practice goes hand-in-hand with the next step, which is creating a sexicon (a lexicon of your own vocabulary, phrases, nicknames, situations, etc.) with your partner. Talk about what kind of nicknames they like (if any) and how you both like to refer to your body parts.

You also need to make peace with the idea that not everything will click. You might say some awkward things that won't land. That's all a normal part of sex, and can be a fun bonding experience for figuring out your sexy repertoire.

"Sexting and dirty talk is the most awkward when we're in a really anxious mental space or trying to phrase it perfectly. We become disconnected from the actual sexual experience we're trying to communicate," said Powell.

5. Practicing on your own makes perfect

But what about pictures and videos? That's a whole other frontier that you can also ease into without your partner at first.

"Taking pictures of yourself can feel really empowering," said Marin. Getting to know what angles work best for you, what assets you want to emphasize, or how much you're comfortable showing takes practice. And it's all about enjoying and discovering what you love about your body.

"So feel free to do that whether or not you plan on sending it to someone else."

The group chat gets it

Image: vicky leta / mashable

Powell suggests you take a whole bunch of pictures too since, "You're gonna hate three-quarters of the ones you take at first .... Learn to be OK with a bunch of terrible pictures of yourself too." 

Practice is not only part of the process, but can also be part of the fun. Powell has even seen a recent trend of friends getting involved in helping to up each other's nude game.

"Set up a supportive sexy selfies group with your friends to talk about how hot each of you is, how you love that angle, or that color on them. Whatever it is, find ways to build each other up," she said. "It's a great way to get started that's low pressure."

6. Let's get personal

Bringing it back to your partner, sexting gets really hot when you personally tailor it to that specific lover.

"So many of us have an idea of what sexy is supposed to look like and how we're supposed to behave to be sexy. But it's way more about your own unique, individual personality," said Marin.

Who you are is a huge part of what makes your partner want you. So play into that, not only through the sexual vocabulary you develop with each other but also in your pictures, videos, or even voice memos.

Don't try to emulate glossy pin up shots from the early days of adult magazines because, honestly, that's not what our culture even finds sexy anymore. When Playboy relaunched its first non-nude magazine issue in 2016, there's a reason why the cover invoked the casual sext aesthetic of Snapchat. Your partner wants to see you as you are, not as an impossible ideal.

"If you're someone who's kind of dorky, for example, that's also going to be sexy as long as you embrace it and embody it," said Powell.

Aside from bringing your own personality, it's incredibly sexy to tailor your sexts to the specific person your texting.

"Make it super personal to every lover. What are the aspects of their particular body that you love? Is there a specific birth mark, or dimple, or way that they laugh? What are the things that are really unique about that person?" said Powell.

In the case of a sexy Snapchat, don't forget that you can combine visuals and text. And there is something indescribably hot about a nude alongside a message naming your partner and what you want them to do with it. Marin suggested sending videos or pictures where you're even wearing an outfit or piece of underwear you know the other person likes.

#Throwback the first non Nude Playboy Model 👼 @Playboy #thanks #proud pic.twitter.com/cZ043HkvRC

— Sarah McDaniel ( Krotchy ) (@SarahMcDaniel_) August 5, 2016

People love to be seen, and sexting can be a great way of helping someone else see their own sexiness through your eyes.

"In particular it's great to highlight aspects of that person that you love that they may feel uncomfortable about," Powell said, pointing to common insecurities like belly fat, stretch marks, or scars. Describing how their perceived flaws are sexy to you will make anyone get hot and bothered. 

7. Negotiating boundaries can be hot as hell

So far we've been assuming that you and your sexting partner are on the same page. But that's definitely not always the case. But far from being a problem, those instances can become opportunities to get to know each other's sexuality better.

This is especially true when you're using sexting to explore new territory, like kinks or desires you haven't tried before — even when it's something the other partner doesn't initially find appealing.

"When someone brings up something you think isn't your thing, the first question that can be useful to ask is, 'Tell me what's hot about that for you,'" said Powell. 

That question should open up an honest, judgement-free dialogue for you both about the larger source, sensation, or sexual fantasy that the kink or sexual act represents. Because, "the specific act is never the full story behind what they're actually into. Figuring out what's driving that desire helps you renegotiate."

You might even find that, after hearing your partner describe what's hot to them about it, their sheer excitement or desire stirs some of your own. But if you're still not into doing that specific act or kink, you can find other acts you are comfortable that fulfill their larger desire.

"It's about treating it like a collaborative activity. Think about it like improv, where it's always 'Yes, and.' That doesn't mean you always have to say yes to things, but the idea should be understanding where that person is coming from, and meeting them where you can," said Powell.

But, Powell clarified: "Being able to give your lover an empowered 'no' in a way that doesn't make them feel rejected is a super essential skill."

And having that negotiation conversation, even if it goes nowhere, allows you both to exercise that skill.

What's important for both parties, Marin said, is to remember, "You're allowed to have your own boundaries, you're allowed to have your own reactions, and share that feedback with your partner."

8. Safety, trust, and privacy are part of what makes sexting sexy

Even though sexting has become a ubiquitous and often positive experience for many, there's no denying the inherent risk.

Marin, Powell, and Temple emphasized that unfortunately, there is absolutely no way to ensure your sexts won't be made public or used in ways you didn't consent to. But there are helpful ways to frame that problem.

You can't guarantee a consensual sext will remain consensual.

Image: vicky leta / mashable 

"Because it's the internet and because it's the age that we live in, don't ever send pics or videos that you would not be OK with ending up on the internet," said Powell.

That's not because it will or you can't trust anyone. It's more about considering whether or not that potential outcome would ruin your particular career, like for people who work with kids, for example.

"If you're going to be sexting someone, just ask yourself, 'What is the worst that can happen here,' and set your engagement based on your risk profile. How much risk are you willing to assume?"

Some people avoid this in pictures by never showing their faces in a nude, making it harder to prove it's you. But again, that's still fallible. As mentioned, no app guarantees privacy. We wrote previously about some apps that can help protect your nudes, and would also recommend turning off automatic cloud back up.

But also, taking the leap of faith with your partner adds to what can make sexting feel special. It's something you do with a person you trust, and trust is sexy.

"Sending a naked picture of yourself is scary and makes you vulnerable to the receiver," said Temple, the behavioral researcher. "You’re trusting the other person to not violate that trust."

9. Watch out for these bad, or even abusive behaviors

Sexting can be a huge rush of excitement, and it's easy to get caught up and do something thoughtless. Everyone makes mistakes, especially if they haven't had a lot of experience.

But there are a few behavioral patterns you can remain vigilant of, either to avoid doing any of them yourself or to not let them unwittingly happen to you.

Marin and Powell raised the issue of an uneven conversation, where one partner is always initiating and volunteering all the ideas during a sexting session. This can not only breed resentment on the part of the initiator, but also is an indication that the receiver might be uncomfortable. 

"Text is harder because you can't see the other person's facial expression, hear their tone, or read their body language. You don't get any of that information," said Marin. "If the person is not responding or fully engaged and you keep insisting, then something is wrong."

Even if that person seems to be agreeing to your advances, not supplying their own sexting fodder should make you immediately stop and check in.

In his research, Temple found that the most common forms of straight up abusive sexting behavior includes sending explicit visuals and texts without asking first, or any form of pressure when sexts are sent — even with phrases they might've intended as an innocent tease like, "Now it's your turn."

Of course, forwarding or showing others an explicit picture you receive without the senders permission is absolutely unacceptable. And people should also be aware of sextortion, where a partner demands more pictures by using the previous ones as blackmail.

To avoid any inadvertent pressuring, Powell advocates for going a step above even the "Golden Rule." It isn't just doing unto others as you would have done unto you. With sexting, "it's about the platinum rule, which is to do unto others as they would have you do unto them."

10. Remember that digital consent and IRL consent still differ

This goes hand in hand with the idea that consenting to stuff during sexting absolutely does not translate to consenting to do it in real life. Part of the fun is creating a fantasy together, and people often don't want to have what they fantasize about to happen to them IRL. 

"Sexting can sometimes trigger unwanted advances from the receiver. A sext might indicate that the person is ready to take it to the next level, but we shouldn't ever assume," said Temple. "Even if they sent you 500 pictures of their naked body they still might not want to have anything physical with you. The same courtship and consent rules still apply."

Any form of IRL sexual exploration still requires an explicit, verbal, enthusiastic "yes" in order for consent to be established.

But sexting makes getting to a point where you're both ready to give each other that enthusiastic "yes" a whole lot less intimating.

WATCH: After CES rejected a female sex tech company the CEO calls for change

[somepersonalqueerrunes]

A lecture noone wants

So... Recently, I’ve been having a lot on my mind. Approximately 4 things at once. I thought it might be helpful to write it down, sort through it. And considering how quickly these thoughts are racing, it seems far too slow to write it down with ancient runes in a tucked away notebook like I normally do. While reading through “Symptoms of being human” by Jeff Garvin (For the second time, might I add), I though “Hey, why not write them down as runes and then share it on the internet!” (Thus, the name Some Personal Queer Runes, Rune for short). Original as it may be, it seemed too convoluted, and I can’t find any good rune font that would work on most screens. No more runes, bar those of the Latin alphabet (Hey, the name of the blog also spells out SPQR, what a happy coincidence!). Anyway, I ought to fix up the appearance of this blog eventually, but today, I think I’ll stick to two things. Tell you a bit about myself and tell you two nice things that happened today. [End of rant] (Was it a rant? Was it just me feeling I need to explain my every move? Probably both.) A Christmas, a couple of years ago, I was reading a book (”Magnus Chase: The hammer of Thor” by Rick Riordan). There, a particular aspect of a character resonated with me, and I realized I am gender fluid. Now this is the part that annoys me, I live in Norway, and most of the people I’ve met here, is very openminded to sexuality and gender identity. Heck, I was given that as a topic for a minor exam I had to do a few years back. Regardless, no matter how open-minded people are, few know of all possible gender identities (Who does?). It just seems that whenever I say “I’m gender fluid” I also need to give a lecture explaining what it is. Nobody wants a lecture. I don’t because I feel anxious enough about telling them I’m gender fluid, and whoever I’m lecturing is victim to a huge information dump that if successful, would permanently change how they perceive me. I don’t even feel qualified to hold a lecture on the topic. I’ve had the most success using a series of animated gifs. I’ve already managed to mention two books that explain it, but they are both different in their explanations, and (naturally) neither of them explain exactly how it is in my specific case. However, my explanation will borrow a few elements from “Symptoms of being human”. Now, let’s end this rambling (honestly, I should rename this blog to “Some Personal Queer Rambling”) and start “The lecture” [Cue sarcastic yay] Most people perceive gender as binary (meaning only having two possible states). For these people, it is as if in the womb, there is a switch, and it is either set to male or female, and is then stuck in that position from then on, to death and beyond. In LGBTQ terms, these are referred to as Cis (Pronounced sis as in sister). Some feel that their gender does not match the sex they were assigned at birth. Plenty here transition then from what they were assigned at birth to the “opposite” sex. These people form the T in the LGBTQ alphabet soup, in other words, transsexual or transgender. Some people perceive gender as a spectrum (imagine the colour spectrum, the whole rainbow) where what normally called boy and girl, or man and woman, are merely two shades amongst an indefinably large sea of colours. A term popular here is Non-binary, and there are plenty of gender identities in here. If you’re still following this line of logic, I first of all want to congratulate you on being a patient and intelligent human (or other species) being, thank you for still reading. Then we come to the more fluid view. To gender fluid people, their gender identity is a bit more fluctuating. The gender they identify with changes over time. For some it changes over years. For some it can fluctuate many times in an evening. I have myself experienced identifying with one gender for a whole week, then fluctuate several times in a single day. This is the gist of being gender fluid, gender is not a solid state, like a rock, it’s a fluid, like water. (Come to think of it, the sound of gender freezing and/or evaporating feels strangely appropriate.) The genders gender fluids fluctuate between changes from person to person. Alex Fierro from Riordan’s works is described to essentially toggle between male and female at random. Meanwhile, Riley from Garvin’s book describes it as a compass that instead of north and south has masculine and feminine. The compass is always changing without Riley’s control. It’s not a switch it’s a dial, constantly changing. I bet this all sounds confusing. I’m frequently confused myself. How is my gender fluid experience? I feel like it’s a map, or a co-ordinate system. I’m not certain which. Instead of north and south, it has masculine and not masculine. Instead of east and west, it has feminine and not feminine. Both ranging from 0% to 100%. Sometimes I feel masculine, sometimes feminine, sometimes between, neutral, sometimes I feel both. Most of the time, I feel like one of the aforementioned states, but leaning in a direction, like neutral leaning towards masculine, or female leaning towards neutral. I need to keep track of where I am on this weird gender map, I’m stilling figuring out how to read it, I only really started looking at it this spring. If you understood that, wonderful! If you did not, welcome to the “Confused by gender club”! [Cue small background yay and confetti] For reasons I’m not going to go into here, I somewhat stopped exploring my identity shortly after the burst of realization I was gender fluid, and really only picked it up again this spring. Because this fall I began at a “Folkehøgskole” (Essentially, a one-year school focused more on learning than getting through the curriculum, and students are viewed at equals to the teachers, and primarily, one subject is focused on through the year) and I wanted to be comfortable enough with myself to introduce myself at the start of the year as gender fluid, and be free to fluctuate as much as I needed throughout my stay here. Long story short, I didn’t reach that goal, albeit I did make some great strides. Now I’m sitting here, in my dorm-room that I’m supposed to share with someone that I share gender with, but it doesn’t always match. If I want to go to the toilet or shower, I have no other option, but the rooms labelled with male or female, which I particularly have avoided these last couple of years due to not wanting to enter the “wrong” restroom. I’m nearly constantly surrounded by other people I have not told of my gender identity. There is hardly any time I have enough privacy to wear clothes that do not match what I was assigned at birth, without being seen. Thus far, my gender has “fortunately” been mostly “frozen” (yes, I’m now using that term to explain my gender) as what I was assigned at birth, but the fear and confusion as to what to do when that stopped was suffocating. Then, these last couple of days, it has been fluctuating like crazy, bouncing all over my little gender map. Regardless, right now, I wanted to tell you the two good things that happened today. First of all, our first assignment was to create a small video or something similar, that explained who we were. We were allowed to be as artistic, liberal and deceitful in our project as we wanted. Knowing the video would likely only be showed once, and probably not reviewed frame by frame, my theme became to show some very personal information in the video, but so quickly and drowned out by other information no one would have a chance to catch and process more than a hint of what was going on in it. Today we showed our projects to each other, and a guy in my class noticed that “Symptoms of being human” was briefly featured in it and asked me afterwards if he could later borrow the “white book with the Hitler haircut on the cover”. He still wanted to read it despite me explaining that it had nothing to do with WWII or anything else he would expect. That makes me hopeful. I brought the book with me here to more easily explain a part of myself, and it seems that might happen. It’s far easier to say “I have this in common with this character from this book” than it is to say “I’m this, you probably don’t know what that means, let me give you a lecture. He shall have it once I’m done re-reading it. Assuming he promises to return it to me unharmed. It isn’t a book sold in Norway. The second thing was small and simple. While playing a card-game arranged by the school (Werewolf, similar to mafia or town of Salem), someone was referred to as her, and they quickly corrected “I prefer “hen”” (Hen is a gender neutral pronoun used in Sweden, since Norwegian has no gender neutral pronoun in the dictionary, many uses this one from Swedish, as we otherwise use the same pronouns) and everyone was ok with it. It shouldn’t surprise me as “Discrimination based on gender identity” is illegal in the rules of the school, but I have nevertheless been terrified about telling anyone about that part of myself regardless. I wanted to applaud them and give them a pat on the back for doing something so simple, yet important that I was too cowardly to do. Of course, my cowardice prevented me from doing that too. These are such small simple things, but they mean the world to me, they give me hope. Although I didn’t make my last goal, I’m not giving up on it. My new goal is to be comfortable enough with my identity to reveal during this year that I am gender fluid. Sooner better than later. And I guess this will be my (b)log documenting it. -Rune

[em-n-kini]

“We are that boy.”

What isn’t rare is a arthouse film hinging upon the intersectionality of race and sexuality to create a narrative about the duality of “love.” What isn’t rare is for niche cinema to reproduce the stilted experience of melancholic coming-of-age in tandem with larger concepts of masculinity and self-identity. But what is rare is for a movie to do all such things while at the same time coming to massive critical acclaim and winning Best Picture at the Academy Awards. “Moonlight,” directed by Barry Jenkins, is the story of Chiron told in three parts. The audience watches as he transitions between his youth, adolescence, and early adult life amidst the inner turmoil he endures over his need for self-identity. A testament to the success of it’s content, “Moonlight” ended up sweeping the 2016/2017 award season and became notorious for it’s infamous Oscar award for Best Picture. It was lauded for not only it’s gorgeous cinematography and eclectic use of storytelling techniques, but also it’s intimate handling of LGBT and racial themes. 

It would be unfair to say that it doesn't come with it’s own share of criticisms. “Moonlight” suffers from the same “gay for pay” issue that “Call Me By Your Name” has been plagued by. Many have also accused it of being “straight washed” in order to be more palatable to mainstream audiences, thereby copping out of telling the true queer experience. Some have even accused it of it being nothing short of unoriginal as a coming-of-age drama. And while this is all fair and valid, there is still a careful consideration of it’s other more conducive aspects that are needed to be kept in mind.

There is a certain tenderness that permeates throughout the entirety of “Moonlight” in order to replicate the interiority of it’s protagonist, Chiron. Viewers are made to “ look past Chiron's outward appearance and his superficial signifiers of identity” in order to climb “inside familiar stereotypes... to quietly dismantle them from within.” The cinematography itself heightens the realism of everyday life to be “thoughtful and harrowing, sensual and earthy, achingly romantic and uncommonly wise” in it’s aesthetic choices. Amidst the aching heartbreak that is Chiron’s home life and societal status, we see him awkwardly encounter the bouts of unconditional love, first through Juan and Teresa and later his own mother and possibly even Kevin. “Moonlight” is comprised of a multitude of silent actions, ones that speak for themselves to the greater forces of intimacy. Even during the pivotal scene on the beach, wherein Kevin gives Chiron a handjob, they are shot from behind as the crashing of waves overrides all sound. The shyness of this moment adheres to the film’s own storytelling, as Chiron’s suppression of his sexuality has at this point reached a crippling low. It gives a certain privacy to him that hasn’t been granted before, preventing voyeurism from straying too far into the queer experience to turn it into a spectacle. The film respects it’s viewers “enough to let us just sit still and watch the glorious faces of his characters as they move through time,” without trite dialogue or unnecessary melodrama. 

However, “Moonlight’s” more technical accolades are what make it stand out as a breakthrough film. It features an all-black cast, was written by an openly gay male, and resulted in Mahershala Ali to become the first Muslim to win an acting Oscar as well as Joi McMillon to be the first black woman nominated for an editing Oscar. With that considered, it exemplifies the fact that it is also a crowning achievement in terms of representation, providing a success story for the narratives of African Americans and queer individuals alike. It’s intersectionality has created a space in mainstream film for others to follow suit, bringing forth the onslaught of individuals who have longed for a movie that so closely mimics reality. Its a concept that is still hard for people to grapple with - that an openly LGBT, African American centered film could come to such critical acclaim - but Hilton Als himself has worded it best. “Did I ever imagine, during my anxious, closeted childhood, that I’d live long enough to see a movie like “Moonlight,” Barry Jenkins’s brilliant, achingly alive new work about black queerness? Did any gay man who came of age, as I did, in the era of Ronald Reagan, Margaret Thatcher, and AIDS, think he’d survive to see a version of his life told onscreen with such knowledge, unpredictability, and grace?”

Throughout the course of this blog, we’ve strived to point out the intricate ways in which queer individuals are fetishized and diminished in visual media. The mass production of heteronormative, hyper-sexualized, and stereotypical LGBT content is a problem that has permeated the intersectionality of queer experiences. And even with the very little “acceptable” media available, there is still no ethical consumption in a patriarchal and capitalistic society. No content is without it’s faults. Despite this, “Moonlight” is a unique exception to the norm. It’s pros outweighs it’s cons, providing a narrative and opportunity for minority individuals that is desperately needed in the current film industry.

SOURCES

http://www.latimes.com/entertainment/movies/la-et-mn-toronto-2016-barry-jenkins-moonlight-makes-the-case-for-quiet-eloquence-20160911-snap-story.html

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2016/10/24/moonlight-undoes-our-expectations