#also it is fucking late i just got home from a day long queer event and i even skipped the last event

[forabeatofadrum]

aap noot mies (2/14)

Notes: This fic will be a short one, by the way. I am aiming for 400 - 600 words per chapter, although I already fucked that up with chapter 7, so maybe it’ll be 500 - 700 instead. It’s always a challenge for me to keep things short, but I’m gonna try!

AO3 | S&C

–

DECAY - 11 points

“Welcome, hi, you must be Blaine!” Kurt(?) says excitedly. Blaine did have a profile photo, so this must be Kurt, since he recognises Blaine. “I hope you didn’t have to come from far.”

It was only almost an hour by train and then I got lost, Blaine wants to say, but instead nothing except for an “It was” comes out.

Kurt frowns.

“Oh… uh…” Kurt trails off awkwardly.

“I don’t mind, though!” Blaine quickly adds. Kurt shouldn’t look so sad with a frown like that! Blaine ever wants Kurt to be sad, that’s what he’s just decided.

Then his mind catches up with the situation and Blaine suddenly remembers that he has manners. Human manners! He holds out his hand.

“I’m Blaine, which you know. Blaine. That’s me.”

Kurt has an amused look on his face when he shakes Blaine’s hand.

“Aangenaam kennis maken,” Kurt says, because yes, of course, Dutch! That’s why Blaine’s here, to teach the language, not to gawk at Kurt.

“Aangenaam kennis te maken,” Blaine says back.

Kurt steps aside so that Blaine can enter the loft. Kurt explains that it’s not much, but it’s home, and he shares it with two friends from high school. Blaine looks around and sure some kitchen supplies are clearly second hand because they’re in a clear state of decay, and the furniture doesn’t match so it’s obvious that they thrifted a lot, but it’s so home-y. There are photos everywhere. Clothes are on the floor, as if someone just got home and immediately unwinded. There’s a nice smell in the air from some leftovers.

It's perfect.

“This place is amazing.”

“It’s home,” Kurt says with a shrug, “Where do you live in New York?”

“Upper West Side,” Blaine says as he still looks around. He should convince Wes to buy more knickknacks for their place.

“Oh my, I didn’t know! You really did come from far,” Kurt sounds embarrassed, “We can also meet up for lessons somewhere in the middle. Or around Broadway, since I work at this Diner there. Sorry I just assumed-”

“Hey, Kurt, it’s fine,” Blaine reassures him, “I knew I was going to Bushwick. You invited me and I decided to come here. For Dutch stuff.”

“For Dutch stuff, yeah.”

“May I ask, what prompted you to learn this language?” Blaine asks.

“Coffee?” Kurt asks, “I mean, do you want coffee? We can talk then.”

“Coffee sounds nice, yes, thank you. And, uh, may I use the bathroom?”

Blaine needs a breather.

Kurt points towards a wooden door and Blaine thanks him before rushing towards him.

In the bathroom he splashes some cold water on his face.

Keep it together.

Blaine’s not an idiot. He’s not ignorant of what he’s feeling. He’s had crushes before. Kurt is good looking, Blaine likes looking at him, simple as that. But he needs to have a moment to compose, since he needs to prove to Kurt that he’s capable of being serious. After all, if he’s out there stammering like a nervous wreck, then he doesn’t make a great impression. He needs to be verbose and great with language and speech!

Once he thinks he’s ready, he goes back to Kurt. He can do it.

[hyperfixated-homo]

ooh I'm gonna be super predictable but I adore big brother Virgil in any capacity, so if you wanna write that go wild. muah <3

Tired, but never of them

Virgil has a bad day. His little siblings comfort him in their own special way.

Ao3 Link

A/N: This took a while, sorry! Sibling stories are not my strong suit lmao. It’s not even really explicit that he’s the older one here, but you know that he is and I guess that’s what matters. Also I almost got to 2k words with this fic!! Yay me :D

———

He was having a bad day.

Everything had gone wrong from the moment he woke up. He was late for school because he needed to stay up all night to study for a test (which he missed, thanks to his lateness). Then he got a call from his boss and he had to leave his brothers alone in the house because obviously he didn't want to get fucking fired and lose their only source of income. Then it felt like the only customers at their shitty little convenience store were all angry moms and spoiled brats who would take forever to buy their stupid fucking candy and gum and then complain when he didn't give them a discount when they gave him dirty looks. Then in a tiring series of events:

Some kids from his school showed up and started fucking around with the displays.

One of them jokingly asked him out and then called him gay for not immediately saying no.

They all proceeded to laugh at him for being queer for like, half an hour (which he was, but they didn't know that so what was the point?).

A middle aged man yelled at him for five minutes because he wouldn't give him a free beer for an expired coupon that wasn't even for their store.

A kid started crying really fucking loudly in the corner (she didn't stop for fifteen minutes and her parents refused to leave the store. He didn't know if he felt more sorry for them or for himself).

Someone smashed a bottle on the floor trying to take it out of a six pack even though they had a massive sign that clearly stated that they didn't sell single bottles.

And then, to top it all off, one of the kids smoked a cigarette in the bathroom and set the place on fire.

So yeah. In conclusion; Virgil Sanders was having an absolutely horrible fucking day.

When he got home, it was already seven pm and he hadn't eaten since his rushed breakfast (the granola bars at the store didn't count for shit). He was exhausted and stressed out and so sick of everything that he didn't bother to say hi to his brothers when he got back, deciding instead to immediately go to his room and flop onto his bed.

He didn't even take off his shoes or jacket. He just laid there staring at the ceiling and wondering what the fuck he was doing with his life. 

Everything sort of hurt, but not in the sharp way it hurts to get a scrape, or hit your head. It was more like a general soreness that spread throughout his entire body once he laid down. His stomach hurt. It always did when he got stressed or overworked, but it made him feel miserable.

He would need to redo his test. And have to explain to his science teacher why he had to redo the test. Would he need to do it alone? Was that better or worse than having to do that in a room full of people? He didn't know. But he was still thinking about it. For some reason. And probably would be for the entire evening. Fuck.

He stared at the ceiling for a moment and then let out a long sigh. He probably needed to make some food for his brothers. Fucking-

His brothers! Had they eaten anything for lunch? He hadn't had time to come back home after his second morning class, he didn't even check on them when he came home. What if they'd gotten in trouble? What if they thought that he hated them because he was in a bad mood and didn't talk to them? He knew that they got upset when he didn't pay attention to them, how could he just-

A knock sounded at his door. He called out (much more shakily than he would like to admit) for them to come in.

His door opened slowly and two big blue eyes popped out behind it.

"Hey Logan." Virgil croaked out (when did his throat get so dry?)

"...Hi." He sounded small, like he didn't want to say anything. Was he scared? Upset maybe? God they probably did think that he hated them-

"We made you some stuff."

Virgil blinked at him. That was most definitely not what he expected. "You made me things?" Logan nodded, almost shyly.

"Jay and Patton wanted me to give it to you because I'm the most quiet and they didn't know if you had a headache or not." The little seven year old explained, opening the door more and revealing a little tray behind him. Virgil couldn't quite make out the contents from his spot on the bed.

"Can I come in?" He asked. Virgil let him in, sitting up to talk about him better.

Logan picked up the tray and brought it over. Placing it on an empty spot on his bed, he pushed himself up and sat next to Virgil, putting his little hand over Virgil's.

Virgil damn near cried.

On the tray was a plate of pasta, some water, a little box of Pepto-Bismol, two cards and a little blue gem.

The pasta was clearly Patton's, heated warm enough to feel the heat in his stomach but not hot enough to burn. It was sprinkled with sliced ham and Parmesan, which was funny because Virgil was the only one who actually like Parmesan in this house. The ham and cheese combo was simple but it had become a sort of comfort food for Virgil, who had gotten used to making foods like that on a very low budget. When Patton started taking over some of the cooking a the ripe age of ten, he managed to make the recipe even better by adding melted cream (it was legendary; cheap, tasty and made the pasta so much better. Virgil was so amazed at his abilities that he upgraded him to the house chef on the spot).

The water and Pepto-Bismol were probably Janus' doing. Most of his siblings didn't know the difference between it and other over the counter medication like Advil or Tylenol. Janus had helped him do some research on which ones were safer after Virgil expressed concern about how much medicine this family needed (Seriously, between the twins’ chaotic habit of slamming into every possible surface of any place they go—plus Patton's leg injury and Logan's chronic pain, Janus' headaches and Virgil's stomachaches—the drugstore nearby basically knew them by name). Janus had probably taken the time to think about what type of pain he was in and somehow figured out exactly what medicine would make him feel better. He did that all the time, but it never failed to amaze Virgil. 

The cards had so much detail both on the back and front that it could only have been the twins' work. There were drawings and doodles all over the paper, Roman's featuring chibi versions of his younger brothers giving Virgil a big hug, while Remus' showed some more realistic drawings that featured an odd amount of eyes and limbs. They were both equally endearing. What really took Virgil aback was the amount of stickers the two had put on their cards. They loved to collect stickers, but had a general rule that using them was strictly forbidden. They were meant for looking and not using. The two of them using so many made the cards feel really special, as strange as it was.

Opening the cards, Virgil was met with a pop up drawing of himself on Roman's card and a big monster of limbs and eyes and mouths on Remus' that was labeled "the bad day". He was a bit confused for a moment, but then Logan put the two together and he couldn't help but laugh.

When the pages were pressed against each other the pop-out figures it formed a scene where Virgil was a heroic knight, holding his sword out and fighting The Bad Day. It was so thoughtful and creative and them that it almost made Virgil choke up a little bit.

The final thing on the tray was a crystal, small enough to easily fit into his palm. It was smooth on the bottom and jutted out into a natural looking formation, the bumpy pattern giving it a wonderful texture and a frozen appearance. It was slightly transparent, and through it Virgil could see that the edges were a bright cyan, while the middles were a deeper shade of indigo.

It was a salt crystal, one that Logan had made himself at home after a class demonstration left him interested. He'd kept them afterwards and called them his comfort crystals, because the knowledge of their creation made him feel better when he was sad, and the texture was pleasantly stimulating to him.

The crystal on his tray now was one that they had made together. It was one of the first crystals that had ever actually formed (when Virgil realized that the reason they weren't forming was because it wasn't humid enough for it to crystalize). It was also the first one they'd dyed.

It was Logan's favorite comfort crystal.

"Sometimes I feel better when I'm just holding it," Logan murmured when Virgil picked it up "so you can borrow it for a bit."

It really wasn't much, but it meant everything to him. The pasta had too much ham and the glass wasn't filled all the way, and there were spelling mistakes in all the kind words in the cards and there was no way to put the crystal down so that it wouldn't start rolling when the bed moved but it was so, so perfect and oh fuck he was crying-

"Virge?" It wasn't from the little boy beside him, but rather his door. "Are you okay?"

Patton's concerned voice from the doorway was enough to make him sob. He walked in immediately and started going through breathing exercises to calm him down.

Virgil spluttered for a minute, trying to find a nice way to voice his thoughts without sounding like a complete idiot but eventually just said fuck it.

"'I'm not sad." He said in-between sobs "I just really, really love you guys, you know?"

Patton's concerned face split into a grin, and he squealed, pulling him up and into a hug. "I love you too!" He said, squeezing him tightly.

It took a while for Virgil finally calmed down enough to get out of the hug and wipe his eyes. When they broke from their hug, he could see the others standing in his doorway. It seemed that Logan had gone to grab them while Patton comforted him through his sob fest.

He snorted, slightly wetly, and said "Well, what are you waiting for?"

Instantly, he had two little balls of red and green in his arms, loudly asking if he's okay. Janus came over to pluck the food from its spot on the bed and put it somewhere safer, and Logan rejoined him by his side.

It was nice. They were nice. He could feel himself relax and calm down as the twins explained the thought process behind their cards a little better, the background noise doing wonders for his overstimulated mind. Patton and Janus sat down eventually, Janus on his right and Patton holding Logan on his left. They gave him back his pasta so that he could eat while they talked about their days. 

They were so careful to not talk about anything that might trigger him. Every time he thought about it, it made him want to burst into tears again. 

There was warmth on all sides, not trapping but simply surrounding him. And he felt safe.

It had been a bit of a bad day. And he was still a little tired, but he knew at the end of the day he could never be tired of his family.

[londonspirit]

October in London

I just realized I have not yet shared pics from my latest (and last) London trip (this year; I will be back now that traveling is doable again).  Four and a quarter glorious days in my fav city with the most beautiful weather one can ask for at the end of October! 

Arrived on Thursday on my own as C was going to join me on Friday so I had a day to myself. Sadly my evening plans got cancelled just two hours prior: the play I had wanted to see didn’t happen. Which was a shame as I’ve read quite a few nice things about it. (My Son’s a Queer But What Can You Do). So wandering around Camden Town/Greater London it was. Which is always nice. I LOVE London at night, it’s got that special feeling to it. Also: Camden Town this late isn’t as busy as over the day (although most shops and stores are closed or closing but still nice). (I also realized I may get to old for shared dorms... but it was just for one night so that wasn’t too bad) 

On Friday C arrived and we moved into our private room at the YHA in Earl’s Court. Basement, no wifi but with a garden and no strangers to share it with! After an unsuccessful trip to the nearest Tesco superstore for tea, we got ready for the Letters Live event at the RAH.  God, what a beautiful venue (even thought the first thing I saw was a freaking DALEK *hehe*). So very gorgeous! And what a line-up we had: Benedict Cumberbatch, Louise Brealey, Sue Perkins, Jonathan Pryce, Stephen Mangan, Graham Norton and so many more. The Letters were funny and heartbreaking, BC’s sea gull story had me in stitches (you know the one, with the hotel room and the pepperoni), and the period one was hysterical as well. There was some organ playing towards the end and DAMN, I still have goosebumps just thinking about that! Being in a place like that is such an amazing experience! Stage door was a bust and it was cold and windy and we were tired so thus endeth our Friday night adventure. 

But... we were back at the RAH on Saturday morning for a backstage tour. I always love these: you learn sooo much about a building and its history and the Royal Albert Hall is fascinating! Def going back there.  Sadly there was another stumble as the friend I wanted to meet up with was stuck in Leicester Square with no buses going and after some back and forth, we cancelled that meeting as well. Which is a shame, I haven’t seen her since the summer and I miss hanging out with her.  But we had to be at the Harold Pinter for our second trip highlight: the great David Tennant on stage!!! Having had booked tickets back in 2019 (!!!), it finally happened, almost two years later.  ... well, I’ve never left a play this disturbed, let me tell you that. I LOVE DT on stage, he always gives it his everything and his performance was outstanding as was the rest of the cast (well, two more people, Elliot Levey and Sharon Small). But the topic was just... ugh. I mean, it was so harrowing it really ruined the rest of the evening for us. And I’ve NEVER had that. I don’t know if it was because we’re Germans and shit like this ALWAYS hits differently, or because it’s too fucking relevant again these days, it was a freaking mood killer and we quickly went ‘home’ and to bed. (I will probably never get the image of DT in THAT uniform out of my head, and not for a good reason. *shudders* And I absolutely despise people saying he looked good in it.) 

Sunday morning we got up bright and early to FINALLY buy ALL THE TEA!!! (my backpack STILL smells like it and it’s the most beautiful scent!!)  The newly opened Battersea Power Station was our next stop where we waited about an hour to have London’s most amazing pancakes!!! Well worth it. The place just opened a week prior so things didn’t go as smoothly as one would expect but the manager soo made up for it! Everyone was stressed out but she was fluttering from table to table, checking on people, making sure everyone was happy (and our teas were on the house because we had waited so long). So if you go to ‘Where The Pancakes Are’ at Battersea Power Station be extra nice to her!  After that we had to hurry a bit to be at our booked slot for the Skygarden. First time for C to watch the sunset from there (second time for me) and it’s sooo worth it, even though it’s usually rather packed that time of day!!!  Also: the cocktails are super potent (and super expensive) so we spent the second half of the day a tad tipsy and very giggly, having another wander around London (even though we said we didn’t want to walk that much again - guess which day was the one where we walked the most? Yep, that Sunday! *hehe*)  It was late when we came back home but the spirits were once again high and happy! 

Monday was leaving day, always a sad one. But as always, London provided us with sooo many memories that it’ll last till the next time!!! 

Lots of love to C for coming along with me: soo needed, so wonderful! Here’s to the next time hopefully very very soon!!! 

[shadowfae]

We’re all pretty aware that the tumblr otherkin community is at a huge decline; I was wondering if you have any theories as to why that is?

American Protestantism, the decline of queer oppression in North America and the AIDS crisis, helicopter parenting, web 3.0, morality politics, and  Tumblr’s porn ban; roughly in that order and rolled up into one bombshell that was a few years in the coming but nobody really saw it and understood it until it was far too late.

That was a mouthful and probably only made sense if you follow current cyberpolitical theory. For some of you reading this, as with every other hot take I have this has a chance of being passed around, that alone is enough. But for others who had no idea what I just said and need the ELI5 version, let me explain that. Buckle up, this’ll be a long one, and will go into fandom history a bit as well because it is actually relevant.

As we know, tumblr is a very American-centric platform. Twitter is also this way, but less so, but tumblr has it bad. Now, I’m ‘lucky’ in the fact that I’m Canadian and a twenty minute drive from the American border, so that puts me in the ‘privileged’ majority. (I say privileged because I’m not really sure what else to call it. Most of the information going around about politics either directly affects me or indirectly affects me approximately one or two links of contact away. Someone who’s only influenced by American politics because it makes their sister’s online friends sad is not going to be privileged in that way.)

This means that American politics and their social climate overwhelmingly affects tumblr’s social climate. This also bleeds through into other fandom spaces, on twitter, instagram, and Pixiv to name a few places; but here’s where I spend the majority of my time so here’s what I’ve witnessed.

America’s main religion, as far as I understand (from the raised agnostic and currently neopagan view I have), is some weirdass capitalistic-Protestantism that is so many miles from what the actual Bible says that if I were a betting man and knew more about cults than I did, I’d say it’s some weird fucking cult and never set foot in the country again for any reason that isn’t gaming free shipping through a PO box. If you have no idea what I just said but are at least vaguely familiar with Christianity, this graphic explains it pretty well. So we can see there’s some glaring issues with that ideal.

The decline of queer oppression and the rise of queer rights in North America, which is to tenderly include my own country but we all know when people say ‘in NA’ they mean ‘America, and Canada where it applies because the right-wing Republicans are really good in the propaganda department to convince everyone that Mexico is a drug-lords-and-anarchy wasteland to the point where even I don’t actually know what’s down there other than bad drivers and heat’; means two things. One, it’s a good thing by a long shot and do not mistake this as me thinking queer oppression being lessened is a bad thing. But two, it means that thanks to the AIDS crisis, queer folks lost a lot of first-person sources as history.

The queer elders in NA who survived are typically either a) bitter anarchists who are often POC, probably still dirt poor and do recreational drugs or b) university-tenured TERFs (trans exclusionary radical feminists). Category A are the people who Republicans have deemed worthless in every way, because racism, queerphobia, ableism, and all the other ways to be wrong and different and Evil that they can’t handle, because Jeezus would never want them to actually learn to love someone who wasn’t just like them, and they don’t have the compassion to do better. Category B are the people who want to be different in just a teensie little bit, typically with TERFs they want to be lesbians, but they don’t want to challenge the status quo. They’re fine with the way things work, they just want to be on top oppressing others over ripping the whole damn thing down and building a more forgiving system.

Now, due to all those ‘isms and the cheerfully malicious aid of the Republicans, pun not intended but drives home the cruelty of it all, we also see the rise of helicopter parenting. The invention of the internet did not really help this. Basically what you’ve got is a whole bunch of parents who saw the civil rights movement, just got access to the internet and things going viral, know the world is changing, and like all parents, they’re scared for their children. Now instead of parents knowing one or two people in their classes who just went missing one day and everyone assumed they ran away, they hear about eight homicides in the city of kids going to parks at night and dying. The Satanic Panic was another event around this time that contributed to that, but I’ll let you research that one.

This means that all of these parents, instead of doing what their parents typically did and let their kids wander off for the day so long as they’re back by sundown, they can’t let their children out of their sight. There might be a freak accident where their child is decapitated on the playground swing! Their baby might get murdered by an evil Satanist walking home from school! Their dearest darling might go online and tell their address to someone who’s got a 100% chance of being a pedophile who will show up and kidnap them in the night!

…You get the idea. 

Combine those three things I just established, what we’ve got is a lot of queer kids who have a lot of internalized shame for being different and wrong, because they’re queer, and they can’t find spaces offline to be themselves, because all of the elders who would do that are dead and/or inaccessible and their parents won’t let them go to any clubs that aren’t school-related, which they’ll never find a GSA or queer club because Republicans, ‘isms, propaganda, and the war on Category A queer adults have all done their best to ensure that those spaces don’t exist.

So you have a generation of kids who I am the youngest of. The first generation on the internet. The late Web 1.0 (usenets and Geocities) and early Web 2.0 (livejournal was the big one, ff.net too, also 4chan but fuck those guys) generation. What we were taught was: trust nobody on the internet with your real info no matter how much you like them, this is a wilderness and any crimes that happen won’t be punished or seen so don’t put yourself in a position where you’re going to be the victim of one, and everything you put online is never getting taken down so don’t put anything up that you’re not willing to have on the front page of your local newspaper.

This worked out pretty well, actually! You had kids who knew that if they got in trouble, there was no backup coming to save them. Because the form that backup might take - parents and police - wasn’t going to help. Best case, they’d be banned from their friends and online support groups for being queer. Worst case, they’d be jailed and put in juvie and conversion therapy and turn to drugs and become evil Satanists just like everyone says they secretly are already. So they learned very quickly to take care of themselves. Nobody was going to save them, so they learned to not need saving.

And then, well, Web 2.0 shifted to Web 3.0. Livejournal died because parents - the Warriors for Innocence was the big name - went “gasp how horrible my children are being exposed to the evil pedos and homosexuals they’re going to do drugs and die of AIDS!”. Which is uh. It’s filled with a lot of bigotry, and I’m not excusing them - absolutely I am not - but you can kind of see where they’re coming from, if you tilt your head and squint.

Either way, LJ died, tumblr took its place, Facebook was fast taking off, and the fandom folks who had seen mailing lists go inactive, web admins take their fanfic sites down due to copyright, entire fandoms burnt to the ground in flame wars, said ‘fuck that we’re making our own place’ and that’s how AO3 got made.

That’s important. A lot of folks move to AO3, because well, the rules let them. The rules say ‘you can throw literally anything up here so long as it’s fan content and is not literally illegal, so we don’t get taken down’. It’s a swing for the first generation internet users, those kids who know this place is a wilderness and are carving out our own sanctuary.

But. The children under us. The children for whom AIDS is a nightmarish fairy tale, for whom the ghost stories are conversion therapy, for whom know they can’t really talk to their parents about being queer but can trust they probably won’t get kicked out over it. The children who haven’t spent ten seconds without supervision except online, and their reaction isn’t ‘oh thank god I’m finally free to express myself’ but ‘if I get in trouble, who will protect me?’.

And there’s nobody there. Because we went in knowing there was no backup. And that was fine. But now, the actual adults have figured out that hey uh, maybe we should make cyber laws? Maybe we should make revenge porn and grooming children over the internet crimes? And they grew up with that. They grew up learning that no, even if your parents are suffocating and controlling, they’re always be there for you! Some adult will always be there to protect you!

That isn’t the case. It’s not. But they expect it, because it’s always been done for them. They don’t really want to change the status quo, because that means doing it themselves. They can’t do that, because they don’t know how, they’ve been controlled for every single part of their lives thanks to helicopter parenting and without that control, they don’t know how to keep their lives together, and they demand someone come and control it for them, without restraining them.

Effectively, they want someone to ensure they never face the consequences of their actions. Helicopter parents will rescue you from whatever you did, because you’re their precious baby and it doesn’t matter if you punched a kid, you can do no wrong and the other kid clearly started it.

But being queer is doing wrong. Being queer is something Jeezus doesn’t approve of. So they want to make it something he could approve of! But if it’s too off what they consider to be okay, if it’s too different and weird and wrong and evil, that can’t do, that’s still bad, and they’re precious angels, and children, and minors, why are we the adults not protecting them and letting them see it? Why aren’t we being just like their parents  but queer-friendly, why aren’t we protecting the children?

The adults who taught us were the children of those who died as a result of AIDS. The eldest of my generation knew some of them personally. My therapist’s younger brother died at 20 of AIDS, and she told me what it was like. But they don’t have that. These kids of web 3.0, they don’t have that. What they have is over-controlling parents, and the expectation that someone will always be there to protect them but hopefully in ways that don’t hurt them this time, no real understanding of why Category A queer elders are the way they are, and so much internalized shame that they have to do some pretty fancy logic-leaping to keep them from collapsing entirely.

They can’t turn into Category A queer youngsters, because they don’t know how to unravel the system around them, because they’ve never had to actually make choices in their lives and live with the consequences, because they don’t have the example of how to do it. They can’t unravel their internalized shame because again, that’s hard and they don’t have their parents to take away the consequences and pain. It doesn’t come easy to them, so it may as well not come at all.

But, you ask, if Category A queer elders aren’t around to teach the kids, then how are they learning anything positive at all? Well, Category B, our university-tenured TERFs, who don’t want to change the status quo but want to just be at the top of it instead.

For a lot of kids who don’t know how to make hard choices but want to be queer, this is an extremely attractive option. But when they go online to queer spaces, a lot of them say fuck terfs, we don’t support your hate, and they go ‘yeah okay that makes sense’. They can say fuck terfs without ever actually questioning why terfs are bad. They’re Bad and Evil, just like drug addicts, just like fairytale nazis, just like the evil homophobes.

And we saw them say ‘yeah fuck terfs’ and we were like, ‘aight you got it’ and we never questioned if they actually understood us. They didn’t. They didn’t, and we didn’t do enough to fix it, because not enough of us realized the problem. So terfs got a little sneaky. They hid behind dogwhistles and easy little comments, hiding their rhetoric in queer theory that you’ll absolutely miss if you just memorize it and never actually question it and understand why that point is being made.

This goes back to America sucking, because their school system is far more focused on rote memorization over actual logic and understanding of the text. They’re engaging with queer theory the way they’ve been taught, which is memorize and don’t think, don’t question. Besides, questioning and understanding is hard. Being shown different points of view and asked what they think is not only hard but requires them to go against all of the conditioning that says to just listen and agree and never question it, which goes back to tearing the system and internalized shame down, and we’ve established they can’t do that so naturally they don’t do that.

This begets, then, the rise of exclusionary politics. They’re turning into Category B queer youngsters, because we told them ‘hey that’s a terf talking point what are you doing’ and they never questioned why. They learned you can do all sorts of things, just don’t say X, Y, or Z, because they never thought deeply about it.

The children who have grown on Web 3.0 do not want to do any heavy lifting to make things easier for themselves long-run. They want to do as little as possible and have things get better for them. There isn’t enough of us left in Category A, because Category B terfs are very good at recruiting young folks and Cat. A is overwhelming poor, dead, and easily dismissed in the system as evil and bad, so we can’t exactly convince the young folks to listen. If all of the young kids could agree to tear down the system, a lot more older folks might listen. Change always starts with the young, and there’s a reason for that.

But Republicans have figured out, if you get people fighting, they never put together a force that can actually stop you. TERFs, who want the exact same thing as Republicans but with themselves on top, are doing this to queer youth, and Cat. A elders can’t fight back because there isn’t enough of them and the odds are against them, and the young folk like me who follow their lead.

People can kinda handle gay people. It’s not so far from the acceptable normal that it’s impassable. But you want them to handle kinky people? Gay people of colour? Kinky gay people of colour? Trans people? Those are bridges too far to step across. The original idea was to get the foot in the door with marriage equality and inch our way through with racial equality, sex positivity, dismantling ableism and perisexism (forgive me if that isn’t the word for anti-intersex ‘ism), and see if we can’t patch up the system instead of inciting a civil war over this and have to tear down the system entirely.

Well, we might’ve managed that if not for AIDS being the perfect ‘Jeezus is killing all the evil gay people for being sinners’ propaganda machine. As it stands now, not a chance in hell. So long as Republicans and terfs keep everyone fighting, nobody has the power to dismantle their empire, and they stay in power.

So then, you ask me, “Lu what the fuck does that have to do with the decline of otherkinity on tumblr???” and now that you’ve got all that background knowledge, here is your answer.

Those children who want their experiences curated for them and the evil icky content they don’t like to be gone because it disgusts them and anything that disgusts them is clearly sinful problematic and should be destroyed, are what we call ‘antishippers’, or anti for short.

They like being progressive. Sort of. They learned what Republicans and terfs have honed to a fine talent: keep people fighting, hold them to a bar they have to constantly make or risk being ostracized, and harass the people who don’t play along into getting out of your sight forever. Sound familiar?

They learned of otherkinity, and particularly fictionkind, because web 3.0 means if something goes viral on one site, it doesn’t just go viral on that site, it makes it to worldwide newspapers and twitter and nobody ever, ever fucking forgets it. They realized the following: “Hey wait, if I’m this character for realsies, not only does it help me deal with the internalized shame I’ve done nothing to actually fix because that takes work, I can also tell these people who draw gross content I don’t like they’re hurting me personally, and that actually sounds credible, and I can shame them into stopping”.

If this is your first time here and that sounds sickening, it damn well should, and I am so, so sorry that any of us had to witness this, and I am more sorry I and everyone else who personally witnessed this didn’t realize what was going on and put a stop to it. I answer asks and browse the tags and clear up misinformation and it isn’t just a genuine desire to help. It’s damage control, and my own way of trying to deal with the guilt of not stopping this. I’m well aware I couldn’t have seen it coming, I was a teenager myself still learning and no one person has that much power. I still feel like I should have done more, and I’ll do what I can to fix what’s within my power to fix.

So back to the story. This all culminates around 2016 or so. Trump wins the election, and every queer person ever knows they’re fucked, and the younger generation’s only ever heard horror stories, never seen actual oppression that this could bring. We’re all scared. We all don’t know what to do. Nobody has any answers or any control over the situation.

So they lash out. They attack others for drawing things they don’t like, for challenging them in literally any way, for asking them to reconsider the vile shit they just said, for so much as defending themselves from the harassment they just got. And when challenged, they yell “But I’m a minor! A literal child! How dare you attack me, clearly you get off on this, you evil pedophile!” and they sling around every insult in the book until one sticks. Pedophile is a pretty good one, so is abuser, and sometimes zoophile works out too. Freak is great, everyone gets right pissed off about it.

The fact that Category A queer elders were called pedophiles and freaks is not a fact they know or care about. The fact that they are quickly making every fandom community super toxic is also not a fact they care about. The fact that the ‘kin community has words and terminology and they actually mean shit, and the fact that they’re spreading misinformation faster than we can keep up with, are not facts they care about.

So they come in, take our terms, make it impossible for us to find new folks. They realize our anger is easily a power trip, because we’re already made fun of, so they get off on the little power they can find and make fun of us too, and then when we get rightfully annoyed and pissed off, they can hide behind being minors.

Then tumblr implements their porn ban, because nobody’s stopping them, because it isn’t profitable to have porn on here. Considering most of the otherkin community, and most fandom communities, are full of adults who do occasionally talk about NSFW things, and the fact that they’re just banning everyone who so much as breathes wrong, this begins the start of a mass exodus, scattering already fragile communities to twitter, pillowfort, dreamwidth, and a few other places. Largely, twitter, where you can’t make a post longer than a snappy comeback and where the algorithm is literally designed to piss you off as much as possible.

So community elders have largely left, because they can’t stand the drama and the pain of what’s happened, and that’s if they didn’t get banned for being kinky furries who do talk about how their kintypes merge with their sexuality. Most community members have also left or stopped talking about being ‘kin, because they get associated with antishippers and toxicity and it’s just not worth it. Those of us who are left get drowned out by misinformation and trolls and wishkin and antishippers who appropriate our terminology because it supports them getting a power trip, and whenever we argue, we get called pedophiles and freaks and worse.

And now there isn’t much left. I hope we get to find a better place. Othercon was a good place to talk about it, I did a whole panel (it’s on Youtube!) about what we want to do about it. But I don’t really have any answers. 

But to sum it all up... America’s political climate ultimately culminated in destroying queer spaces, and we survived, and then people who wanted to destroy smaller communities to get on top showed up and we were all but defenseless against something we had never, ever dealt with before on this scale.

One of my twitter mutuals mentioned how kinning and otherkin are now completely separate communities. It’s really the best I can do to keep hoping that continues, until nobody realizes the words are at all connected to each other. It’s the best anyone can hope for, now. I hate it. I hate every part of this. But maybe we can salvage what’s left.

[artificialqueens]

Fool for You (Crygi) - Frankenvenus

After realising she has fallen for her straight best friend, Crystal’s therapist recommends she write her crush love letters. So instead of communicating her feelings, she scribbles then down and slips them into Gigi Goode’s locker.

A/N~ I hope you like this cause it took forever. I finished it super late at night and I did read through it twice but I apologise for any errors.

Crystal stormed her way into her therapist’s office, throwing herself onto the pink sofa that she sat and rambled on for an hour and a half every week. Her therapist looked at her bemused as the blue-haired girl uttered the words, “I’m in love with my best friend.”

Her therapist, Widow, huffed out a sigh, placing her clipboard down on the coffee table in front and pushing her glasses slightly down her nose, “Well. That’s a common issue for young queer folks like yourself.”

Crystal groaned and rolled over, displaying her puffy eyes and messed up bangs, “But I thought I was immune to it.”

Widow chuckled slightly and leaned towards where Crystal lay, brushing her hair from where it stuck itself in her lip gloss, “Do you need to rant to me about it? You know that’s why I’m here, sweetie; to listen.”

The young girl groaned again before sitting up, straightening her back and recounting the events of her day.

It had started off a normal Thursday. On Thursdays, she would usually peddle to her best friend Gigi’s house before school began so they could scribble down fake absence notes for phys ed, then Gigi would hop on the back of Crystal’s bike and they’d cycle the last half mile to their high school. It was routine for them. Never weird, never crossing any lines. It had always been the two of them, best friends, since middle school. So when things shifted, it took Crystal by surprise.

“I wanna do something different today instead of just sitting in the library until Phys Ed ends. I’m sick of the librarian shutting us up. We literally aren’t even loud,” - Gigi had said, fixing her dirty blonde ponytail in the school bathroom mirror after the bike ride messed it up.

Crystal had agreed with her, before asking her if she wanted to try something new. Although Gigi was her best friend, she hung out with the stoners whilst Gigi hung out with the high-fashion Instagram girls. The dirty blonde had never tried weed, and Crystal never offered - but today she did, and Gigi was eager.

The two of them snuck to the abandoned bike shed at the back of the school, covered in ivy with smashed windows. It was a spot that only Crystal and her friends Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff knew, so Gigi was curious to see it.

“This is so cool,” Gigi had gaped, finding a spot in the corner while her friend rolled her a joint. Crystal had to assure her multiple times that they wouldn’t get caught, but Gigi didn’t shut up until the sizzling rice paper was placed in her mouth. The older girl talked her through how to inhale it properly, and soon enough Gigi was coughing the smoke into the air.

“Can you feel it in your chest?” Crystal had asked, and when Gigi nodded, she said, “Good. That’s how you know it worked.”

They sat there, minds foggy, trying to hold conversation despite their thought process and immediate short term memory being cut off every few seconds. At some point, their pinkies intertwined, followed by the rest of their fingers. And then, Gigi was nestling her forehead into the crook of Crystal’s neck. That’s when it all tumbled down on the latter.

The contrasting feeling of the coldness from Gigi’s skin against her own warm, buzzing skin sent jolts of emotion through her, and the gentle brush of Gigi’s wavy locks against her jaw caused her heart to squeeze itself in a way that was unfamiliar to her. It didn’t seem too serious to Crystal whilst she was still in her high, but when the effects of the weed began to fade by fifth period, the sudden feeling of need for her best friend’s touch remained in place.

Her mind kept travelling elsewhere during fifth and sixth period, which happened to be double Spanish. Jaida had to pinch her multiple times, bringing her back down to Earth. Jaida didn’t question Crystal’s behaviour too much though, because the latter wasn’t usually focused in Spanish class anyway, and that’s why she was failing.

Gigi had debate team practice after school on Thursdays, so instead of going home together the same way they would travel to school, Crystal biked alone. She had her earplugs in, blasting Clairo like usual and wondering what the hell it was that she felt today. It wasn’t until ‘Sofia’ by Clairo came on did everything click in her mind. Something about the lyrics ‘Standing here alone now, think that we can drive around, I just wanna say how I love you with your hair down’ made her realise that oh, she wanted to be able to call Gigi her own, and not just platonically. Then she almost crashed her bike.

She swerved into a fire hydrant, gratified that her bike sported thick mountain bike wheels to soften the hit. Luckily, she didn’t fall off - she just got a fright. She decided to walk her bike the rest of the way home, which thankfully wasn’t far.

When she reached home, she spread herself across her bed and allowed herself to make connections that she should’ve made before. Why else could she never take her eyes off Gigi’s plump lips? Why else did people at school assume they were a couple because they were so touchy all the time? Why else did she feel such tremendous jealousy whenever Gigi showed even the tiniest bit of romantic fondness towards someone that wasn’t her.

Her mom knocked on her door, reminding her that she had her therapy appointment in an hour, and that led back to the present.

“That seems like quite the epiphany,” Widow smiled warmly, passing Crystal a tissue box when tears began to spill over, “Normally falling for a long-term best friend is something that you realise over time, but not for you apparently.”

“I think maybe I’m just an oblivious fuck,” Crystal sniffled. “But even if I realised it today, years ago, or tens of years from now, she still wouldn’t like me back.”

“Well, I’m not your friend’s therapist, but we can’t be so quick to assume.”

“Once you see the girl, you’ll know. She’s a hardcore ten. I’m a five, at best.”

“Crystal, remember what we went over…” Widow began, and the blue-haired girl finished the sentence.

“…Instead of self-deprecation, tell yourself you’re the best person ever, no matter whether you believe it or not - yeah, I get it,” Crystal rolled her eyes, “It’s just hard when you know it’s not true.”

“Well, I have a little tip I give my clients when they’re in a similar situation to you. The whole unrequited love thing,” the older woman got up from her seat and walked towards a cabinet, pulling out a packet of fresh, plain envelopes, “I usually tell them to write their crush love notes. It’s up to them whether they send them or not, or whether it’s anonymous or not, but they can be very therapeutic when needing to express bottled up emotion. Do you see where I’m coming from?”

Crystal raised a brow and tilted her head to the side slightly, the hint of a smile on her lips. She actually didn’t mind the idea.

“That’s actually super cute,” she giggled, taking the stack of envelopes from her therapist, “Thank you.”

.

As soon as Crystal got home, she sprinted to her room and grabbed an old notebook from the back of her stationery drawer. It was a plain A5 paper notebook, but spread across each page was a ginormous red opaque One Direction logo. Crystal had got it for Christmas about a decade ago, but it had only been used a handful of times for random sketches and one draft of a Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles fanfiction.

She grabbed an ink fine-liner from her art pot which she would normally use for her pointillism artwork and began the first letter.

You don’t know who I am. Well, you do but like, not who is writing this. I hope you aren’t scared or anything - cause that’s the last thing I wanna do. I promise I’m not a freak. Well, I sorta look like one but, I know you aren’t one to be bothered by that kind of thing. It’s beautiful, you know. The way people look at you and assume you’ll hate them for who they are cause you’re so pretty and popular, but then you’re just as wonderful on the outside as you are within. That look on your face when you meet a new person drives me nuts. The way you look like you’ve swallowed the sun. Radiant. Always.

Sometimes I wish I could just tell you how I feel about you to your face, but I think you might faint out of disgust. You do that a lot. I sound like a stalker, but I promise I’m not. I think I’m just smitten.

She finished the letter, reading it over to make sure her handwriting looked unrecognisable. Although Gigi wasn’t the most observant person, she and Crystal were so familiar with each other that she was bound to notice her unique handwriting. She also made sure to spray it with an old perfume that she never wore, so Gigi wouldn’t connect their scents. Gigi always made comments about how she loved Crystal’s perfume, so the blue-haired girl had to take precautions. Her strong scent of cocoa and vanilla was bound to rub off on the paper, so she sprayed it with a men’s cologne that she had likely shoplifted years prior, spraying it onto the paper from a distance.

Although Widow had given her the option not to post the letters, Crystal felt like the weight of her crush wouldn’t be eased unless she actually posted it. So, she placed it into the envelope and slipped it into Gigi’s locker the next day at school when the blonde wasn’t around, her heart pounding in her ears with anticipation and verve.

She sat through her first class of the day, social studies with Daya, desperately trying to take her mind off the painful wait. Daya ranted to her about dinosaurs and how everyone’s perception of how they looked was wrong, but Crystal hardly paid attention. She would nod every so often, just so Daya wasn’t insulted, but she wasn’t really in the conversation.

After social studies, she shared a free period with Gigi. She made her way to their meeting spot in the library after the bell dismissed them from their first period, and sooner than she would’ve liked, Gigi was marching across the library towards her with the smuggest grin on her face.

“Oh my God Crystal Elizabeth you will never guess what I just found in my locker,” she squealed as quietly as possible, sliding into the seat opposite Crystal’s.

“What?” Crystal raised a brow, her mouth full of skittles. Now here was the hardest part - pretending to be shocked.

Gigi reached into her blazer pocket and pushed the familiar envelope towards the older girl, who plastered a confused look on her face. The dirty blonde gestured for her to open it, so she complied. She pulled out the letter that was already likely covered in her own fingerprints and unfolded it with a faux-expression of excitement.

“What the fuck is this?” she chuckled, trying to suppress the shake in her fingers as she held the letter.

“A letter. From a secret admirer,” Gigi beamed, placing her beautiful shaped chin into her palm and flashing her angelic white teeth. Wow, Crystal was more whipped than she thought.

“This is so dumb,” she lied blatantly, and to her surprise, Gigi frowned.

“You think so? I think it’s so sweet. And shit… whoever wrote it has a way with words,” she exhaled, tugging her plump, peachy lower lip between her teeth.

Crystal’s breathing hitched and she felt her skin redden. She assumed Gigi would find it painfully corny, but it seemed like she felt the opposite. The blonde promptly took the letter back from Crystal’s grasp, taking a look at it once more. The older girl wished she was imagining the blush that began to cover Gigi’s face, but it was definitely there.

“I hope they write again. I wanna play Nancy Drew,” Gigi smiled sheepishly, taking Crystal’s hand suddenly, “Will you help me, you know, try and crack the code?”

“Sure!”

Fuck. Crystal felt like Hannah Montana.

.

They spent Saturday together, drinking on Crystal’s roof and gossiping about their own respective friend groups, however, the conversation kept moving back towards the letter. Gigi was conflicted on whether or not she knew the person, but her repetitive use of he and him pronouns when she referred to the secret admirer caused Crystal’s blood to simmer.

When Gigi left the next morning after spending the night on Crystal’s couch, the blue-haired girl was quick to begin her second letter.

I hope these letters haven’t made you uncomfortable in any way. The look on your face when you read it tells me they haven’t though. What I want to tell you though, is that I’m not what you think. I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not a boy. I’m a girl. I don’t know if you like girls. If not; I’m sorry, but if you do; so do I. I like you a lot. All I want is to make you smile.

She spent Sunday at the skatepark, smoking with Daya, Daegen, Lux and Tiff, before slipping the note into Gigi’s locker first thing on Monday morning. The two of them, as well as Gigi’s friends Nicky and Jaida, all shared music class first period of Mondays. Whilst Crystal was pulling her viola out of its case, Gigi suddenly began dangling the envelope in front of her nose.

“Another one!” Gigi grinned, her voice cracking with adorable excitement. She took a seat beside Crystal and opened it. “I haven’t read it yet.”

Crystal watched her friend’s face with anticipation whilst she read the letter aloud, quiet enough that surrounding people wouldn’t hear. Gigi’s eyes widened as she read it over, and her grin faltered into an unreadable expression.

“What does it say?” Crystal questioned nervously.

“The person who wrote it isn’t a guy,” Gigi sighed, scratching the top of her head, “It’s a girl.”

The tanned girl pursed her lips, not knowing what to say next.

“Wow, uh. So… what do you think about that then?” she queried stupidly.

“About what?”

“You know… a girl liking you…”

The blonde crossed her legs and looked away from Crystal, “A pair of tits isn’t gonna stop me from loving this girls way of words. The anonymity is sexy. I should’ve known a man wouldn’t have the mental capacity to do something so romantic.”

This could not be real. Crystal felt like she was lucid dreaming.

“So you like… girls?” she pressed.

Gigi turned to her with a glint in her eye, “No gender or sex will stop me from wanting to kiss someone pretty.”

Oh.

“What? Are you homophobic or something?” Gigi added, and Crystal simply laughed.

”As if! Have you seen me? I think I should get ‘flaming lesbo’ tattooed on my cheek. I just didn’t know about you…” Crystal rushed out before she could even think about it. Never did she think she would come out in that way. In her mind, for most of her life, she had anticipated coming out in a very deep, emotional way - likely crying on Gigi’s bed. This was nothing of the sort.

“You’re a lesbian? Wow. I should’ve known,” the blonde simpered, and Crystal shoved her shoulder playfully.

.

When my therapist recommended I write these, I thought it would help me get over you, but fuck I think I’m falling harder for you. That floral outfit you wore yesterday was so cute. When you walked into class, it lit the whole room up. You truly are God’s favourite, huh? Just kidding I don’t believe in God, but whoever sculpted you took their time.

“Crystal look at this one! This is the most poetic piece of artwork I have ever read,” Gigi gaped, rushing towards Crystal after the latter had waited outside her human biology class for her.

The older girl took the letter and read through it, biting hard on her lower lip whilst Gigi watched with a smile, “It’s cute,” she said.

“It isn’t just cute! It’s… beguiling!”

“Do you even know what that means?”

The blonde groaned as they began to walk through the hallways together.

“I think you’re jealous because no one is writing you captivatingly beautiful love letters.”

Crystal shrugged and continued walking, eventually bumping into Daegen and going for a much-needed smoke. The blue-haired girl didn’t want to come off as cold to her best friend, but she feared that if she said too much, Gigi would make the connection. She smoked in silence, allowing Daegen to rant about her weekly argument with Daya that would likely be resolved by Friday. Occasionally she would nod, but she kept quiet.

It was surprising to Crystal that Gigi appreciated the letters so much. She thought the blonde would find them creepy and stalker-like, and perhaps fear for her own safety, but the opposite reaction was apparent. So now Crystal didn’t know what to do. Gigi was falling for her words, but she didn’t know it was her.

Apparently Daegen had been saying something because suddenly the girl was snapping her pink acrylic covered fingers in front of her eyes.

“Are you listening to me, Crys? I asked what you were planning on doing for Halloween this Friday?”

Oh. Crystal had almost forgotten that she had been working on her Corpse-bride inspired Halloween costume since July, putting her entire soul into the concept and causing her fingers to bleed with the many late nights of sewing layers of tulle. Everything with Gigi must have been really getting in her head - so much so that she forgot about the object of her whole summer.

She was too old for trick or treating now, unfortunately, but she had been planning to have a small get-together (edging on a party) with her remote friend group as well as others. Gigi had promised to attend, after spending the last two Halloweens with the popular kids getting shitfaced at college parties.

“Don’t you remember? I’m throwing a party. My dad is out of town for work and my mom is spending time with our grandma. The house will be empty,” Crystal grinned, puffing a cloud of smoke into the air.

“Crystal Lucia Elizabeth throwing a party? Who would’ve thought,” Daegen smirked, “Is Geege coming?”

“Yup,” Crystal said, her smile faltering slightly as she popped the ‘p.’ Daegen didn’t press on, so soon they were both putting their cigarettes out and heading to their next class.

Word of Crystal’s Halloween party spread like a virus, and the prominent conversation around the school was what everyone was wearing. Thankfully for Crystal, most of her friends were art kids, so instead of wearing a slutty (insert random occupation) costume, they’d all be wearing actual thought-out looks.

At lunchtime, Crystal and Gigi sat under the bleachers together, sipping Yakults and talking about their days. The blue-haired girl asked Gigi what she’d be wearing to her Halloween party, but the blonde wouldn’t tell her.

“It’s a surprise.” her eyes were glinting smugly. Gigi was a seamstress, and everyone knew it. She would create intricately designed, beautiful outfits and sell them to big names on Instagram. Crystal often wondered why she hadn’t just dropped out of school, considering it seemed like she had a strong career set in stone.

But oh boy, Crystal knew whatever it was that Gigi was planning to wear would sweep her off her feet. Figuratively and literally - she was quite clumsy.

.

I can’t wait to see you at the Halloween party tomorrow. I know you’re going to look ethereal. You always do. It’s so hard to look at you without kissing you. I don’t know why I would ever think you would kiss me considering I’m not even half as pretty as you, but I will continue to manifest it as long as you’re in my life. I think I love you.

“She said she loved me in yesterday’s letter,” Gigi shouted through the wind, holding onto Crystal’s waist tight as the latter peddled through the neighbourhood.

“Do you love her?” Crystal replied, thankful that her friend was unable to see her expression at that moment. She couldn’t think straight with Gigi holding her in that way.

“I mean. I guess I have to talk to her face to face. For all I know she can’t speak for shit in real life. She said she’s going to your party tonight. Maybe all will be revealed…”

Crystal breathily laughed out a response as she turned into the school gate. She knew she wasn’t ready to come clean yet. Gigi would simply have to wait another day.

The day passed in a blur. The girls skipped Phys Ed as per usual, but instead returned to the library again for extra revision instead of going back to the bike sheds to get high like last time.

Friday night took a painfully long time to come, but when it did, Crystal could hardly breathe the entire day. She managed to flirt her way out of sixth-period history so she was able to speedily bike her way home to make a start on her eccentric Halloween makeup. People were set to begin arriving at 9 pm, and there wasn’t much preparation to be done aside from throwing a couple of fake cobwebs around the place and placing stacks of red solo cups on the kitchen counter. Her makeup would take at least an hour and a half, so as soon as she got home she took a five-minute shower before beginning the look.

She painted her entire body a silvery grey before carving out strong cheekbones with black paint, giving her an undead appearance. She shaped her brows in a way that would make her look constantly mournful. She slipped her dress on, threw on four different silver necklaces, pulled her voluminous black wig over her head, and clipped the vail to it carefully. After admiring her masterpiece through her phone camera for a few minutes, the doorbell rang. It was Lux and Tiff, who had texted to say they were arriving early.

“Oh my God,” Crystal squealed as she opened the door, revealing the two girls. Both of them were dressed in beige prison outfits, and it quickly clicked to her that they were supposed to be Alex and Piper from Orange Is the New Black. “Lesbians, I assume,” she grinned, but the two girls in front of her were too busy gaping at her own outfit.

“Wow. You are Tim Burton’s wet dream,” Tiff said, pushing past Crystal and entering her home.

“No, I’m not. I’m not white, remember,” Crystal joked.

Lux had brought her large overpriced speaker to blast music. She heaved it into the living room and plugged it in, immediately starting to blast Stupid Love cause she was that girl.

Luckily for Crystal, her neighbourhood adored her. Her street was predominantly old women, but instead of constantly yelling at Crystal for dressing slutty, partying and smoking weed on her roof, they would simply envy her recklessness.

After an hour of pre-shots, people began to arrive. Most people brought their own alcohol, but it was clear that many of them were already drunk before they even arrived. Crystal remained in the foyer, leaning against the wall, singing along to Lux’s music and answering the doorbell whenever it rang. Every time the ringing echoed across the house, she’d subconsciously pray Gigi was on the other side, but for the first two hours, it never was.

Nicky, Jaida and Gigi all arrived at once, and Crystal felt herself get cotton mouth for a second when she looked over them all. Nicky was dressed in a basic white gown with her blonde hair down, however, she was absolutely drenched in fake blood and she wore a small prom queen tiara and sash. It was obviously a Carrie cosplay, and Crystal adored it. Jaida had her entire body painted green and wore a black catsuit over it, cosplaying as Gamora from Guardians of the Galaxy.

Crystal complimented their costumes first, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Gigi. Her Halloween costume wasn’t as bold as they had been in the previous years, but there was something about it that took Crystal’s breath away. The blonde had her hair down and curled in smooth waves and she was wearing a loose white dress with a victorian-Esque corset pulling her waist in impossibly tight. She had dripped wax below her eyes, giving a crying illusion, and her makeup was a shimmery purple, making her look angelic. Yes - that was her costume - an angel. Strapped across her back was the largest pair of faux feather angel wings Crystal had ever seen. They were reminiscent of the ones a Victoria’s Secret models would wear, and they shimmered under the moonlight.

“Holy fuck…” Crystal blurted, before squeaking slightly.

“I know right? They’re so fucking heavy,” Gigi giggled before hopping in and air-kissing Crystal on each cheek, “You look so good, girl.”

“Thanks,” Crystal smiled, deciding that she would no longer be taking doorbell duty. She wanted to enjoy herself, so she walked through to the kitchen where Daya was doing body shots with some guy she had never seen before and promptly decided to join her.

Every so often, she would catch Gigi dancing and knocking things over with her wings. She didn’t mind if Gigi ended up shattering a vase. She would glue up every fragment of china for her.

After her second shot, Crystal made her way to the living room with Daegen to observe people’s dancing, and that’s when she saw them.

There was this guy from Gigi’s geography class that she never shut up about. His name was Toby, and he was one of those ‘hipster boys.’ He was a self-proclaimed feminist but probably cried about rejections from women on the internet. Every time Crystal saw his lanky frame enter a room, she felt sick and fantasized about decking him. There was something about him that was just so irritating to her, and every time he stuck his tongue out at her friend or wiggled his eyebrows like a fucking loser, Crystal wanted to cave in on herself.

And there he was, in her home, dancing with her best friend to ‘If You’re Too Shy’ by The 1975, grinding against her cause her angel wings were too large for the roles to be reversed. Gigi was biting her lip and grinning wide - evidently drunk - and she flipped her hair and bounced to the upbeat synth. Nicky was cheering her on from the couch, and Crystal wished she could just shut the party down. So much for Gigi falling in love with her words? Now she was grinding over some flimsy incel that looked like he would have to be pegged by a woman in bed.

It only got worse from there. The blonde caught Crystal’s eye and she walked up to her slowly, her hand still intertwined with Toby’s. Her words were so slurred that the older girl almost didn’t catch them, but she heard Gigi say: “Hey Toby was wondering if your bedroom was free? All the other ones are occupied but I’m desperateeee.”

Crystal had to hold back the mouthful of vomit threatening to spill from her lips. Gigi was so incredibly drunk, and it seemed like Toby was sober, so the entire endeavour didn’t sit right with her at all. She mentally cursed herself for being so generous, because before she could even register what she was doing, she was pulling a small key out of her bra and Gigi and Toby were rushing their way upstairs.

“Fuck, Crys. Have some respect for yourself,” she mumbled when she was out of earshot from her friend. Decidedly, she made her way to the garden where she knew Daegen was smoking with Tiff. She had to ease her mind.

.

“Fuck, Goode, you’re so hot,” Toby grunted, carelessly pulling Gigi’s wings off her arms. Gigi’s mind was hazy and she couldn’t think or speak properly, so she wasn’t able to tell the boy that the wings were handmade and extremely fragile.

“Thanks,” she slurred as he began to undress her, “Wait.”

“What?”

“Let me try and find a condom.”

She hopped off Crystal’s bed and somehow managed to find her way to her friend’s chest of drawers. She found panties and tampons among many other things, but she couldn’t find a condom. She reached the final drawer and frantically poked around for one. Then she grabbed something, and suddenly she sobered up.

It was a red A5 notepad with a black swirly binder. On the red cover, Gigi spotted five faces; Zayn, Niall, Liam, Harry and Louis. She chuckled slightly, before opening the notebook. Her heart dropped. If the familiar 1D watermark print paper wasn’t enough to make the connection, the titular scribble saying ‘Love letter for Geege draft’ at the top sealed it.

“Are you okay, Gigi?” she heard Toby ask from the bed.

The blonde paused and furrowed her brow, not sure what to do next. “Um. I can’t do this. Sorry.”

“But it was gonna be so good… You look so fine…” “Not tonight, Toby. Sorry.”

Her tone was serious, and Toby knew not to cross her. The boy watched as she pulled her dress and wings back on, and squinted his eyes when she saw a small red notebook in her hands.

“What’s that?” he pressed.

“Get out. Crystal wouldn’t want you in her room.”

After muttering a few disgusting insults under his breath, he left the room, leaving Gigi alone on her best friend’s bed with an overwhelming amount of thoughts.

Downstairs, Crystal had a growing concern as to where Gigi was, because she swore she saw Toby leave with another girl on his arm. Instead of being petty, she decided to be a good friend and creep up the stairs. To her surprise, her bedroom door was wide open. Upon entering, she realised it was empty. And then she saw the small A5 One Direction notebook wide open on her bed, and knew it was time to shut the party down.

It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes to get everyone out, but she was still met with groans of annoyance due to it only being little after midnight. Daya stayed back to help Crystal clean up, but the blonde knew something was wrong.

“Crys? What happened?” she asked, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder. Her other hand was occupied with a large bin bag filled with chip packets, put-out cigarettes and paper cups.

The small motion of comfort caused Crystal to break down, tears tumbling down her cheeks and creating streaks in her white face paint. Patches of caramel skin showed through as she cried more and more.

“No one… touched you… did they?” Daya questioned, dropping the trash bag and wrapping her arms around her friend’s waist.

“No,” Crystal sobbed, “I don’t really wanna talk about it. I’m fine. I just have to figure out a couple of things.”

“Do you need me to stay over?”

“No. It’s fine. I need some alone time.” The house was back to its usual state after twenty minutes, then D aya’s Lyft arrived and she left. Crystal found herself in front of her vanity, scrubbing at her face with cotton pads in an attempt to remove her many layers of makeup. She turned on her ‘Sad Girl Hours’ Spotify playlist whilst she cleaned herself up and continued playing it when she slid into the bath.

Gigi knew.

She couldn’t even think about why Gigi was snooping about in her drawers, she just knew that Gigi knew. Gigi finally made the connection. Crystal’s mask of hiding behind her romantic words was gone. There was no coming back from this. Part of her wanted to slide her body down the white acrylic bathtub surface, submerging herself in the water and remaining there until her lungs couldn’t function without another breath.

Instead, she simply sat there, neck and below beneath the steaming water, eyes shut. Her mind swarmed with escape plans. Would transferring to another school be worth it? Her current school was the best in the district. Should she give it up merely to run away from her problems? Should she face the issue head-on and talk about it with Gigi? Yes. Will she? Absolutely not.

She clambered out when the steam from the water began to make her dizzy. She straightened her blue hair every morning, but it had returned to its curly, frizzy state when it became dampened by the water. She rang it out into the sink using a hand towel, droplets of water falling from her naked frame. Everything was calm. The only thing that could be heard was the occasional sniffle - for Crystal was still crying sightly.

But, like all things, the peace came to an end when Crystal heard a clattering noise come from her bedroom. She yanked a towel from behind the bathroom door before hesitantly making her way back to her room, gasping when she saw someone climbing through her window. Instinctively, she grabbed a tennis racket that was hanging in the corner of her room.

“Jesus Christ - put that down!” the intruder gasped, and Crystal realised that it wasn’t an escaped prisoner coming to steal her and hold her captive in their trunk - it was Gigi.

Part of Crystal wanted to hit Gigi across the head with the racket painstakingly hard so the blonde’s memory would be wiped, forgetting the humiliating events of the day, but instead, Crystal just placed the racket down and covered herself tensely. She was still in her towel, and her hair was still dripping down her shoulders. She likely looked a mess, but it was too dark to notice.

“It’s almost 3 am…” Crystal whispered. Although she didn’t ask anything, it was clear her statement meant ‘why are you here?’

Gigi’s eyes trailed over to the blue-haired girl’s bed where the notebook still sat. Crystal had been afraid to touch it.

“Listen, if you’re going to ridicule me, do it on Monday, cause I’m too tired for this-” the older girl began, but Gigi stepped closer towards her.

The blonde had removed her costume and had her face now bare of any makeup. She was just stood there in black sports leggings and a pink sweater that was three sizes too large, swallowing up her slender frame. Her hair was damp and now in plaits, and her eyes were as puffy and tear-stained as Crystal’s, yet somehow still so beautiful.

“I’m not going to ridicule you, Crys,” she whispered, “I just wanna know… Was it you all along?”

Crystal didn’t wanna say it. Her body had never burned so bad, despite being bare and dripping with water. It was impossible to look Gigi in the eye, so instead, she looked at the gathering dust on the floor, gulping instead of responding.

“Answer me, Crys.” - she was getting closer.

“I don’t know if I can- if I can say it-” Crystal stumbled, her voice cracking under pressure.

Gigi stepped into Crystal’s bubble suddenly, reaching for the latter’s shaky hand. She took it in her own and pressed a soft kiss to it. “Don’t be scared to talk to me. We are best friends, remember. We vowed to always be transparent with one another - so I need you to tell me.”

After too long, Crystal finally met Gigi’s sparkling blue gaze. She swallowed back yet another lump in her throat before nodding. “It was me. I wrote them. All of them.”

The older girl swore she heard Gigi’s breathing hitch, but if the blonde was shocked in any way, she didn’t show any sign of it.

“I wanted to believe it was you, but when you seemed so disinterested in the letters, I began to question it. I never knew that you could write in such a way, Crys,” Gigi smiled sadly, reaching over to catch a tear spilling from Crystal’s eye with her thumb. The touch seemed to burn, sending electrifying sensations through both of them. “Did you truly mean everything you wrote in those letters or was it all a big joke to make me feel special?”

Crystal gasped slightly and furrowed her brow.

“Gigi Goode… You are special. When we got high during Phys Ed and you were all touchy I- I realised that I liked you. Even though it hasn’t been long since I realised it, I know my attraction to you has been there from the start. It started to become impossible to be around you without telling you how I felt, so I wrote it down in letters and hoped I could send the feeling away.”

Crystal was crying now - hard. She was a crier, and everyone knew it, but there was something about the quiet whimpers escaping her lips at that moment that took Gigi off guard.

“I wish you would’ve told me but, I can’t blame you. It’s terrifying,” Gigi sighed, stepping even closer. “I can’t even begin to explain how those letters made me feel, Crys. They made me feel like I hold some significance in somebody’s life. That someone might want me. That I am good enough for someone. You made me feel all that.”

In a bold move, Crystal was reaching towards her friend and tucking an escaped wisp of blonde hair behind her ear, “I can’t imagine a world where you aren’t good enough, Geege.”

“Your letters made me feel so loved,” Gigi sniffled. “Do you love me, Crystal?”

Crystal parted her lips, her hand still lingering by the side of Gigi’s face. It was a make or break moment.

“Yes,” she breathed, and then Gigi was leaning in.

The blonde paused before their lips could meet, looking for a sign of approval in her friend’s eyes. Crystal nodded, and that gave Gigi what she needed to finally press her lips against the former’s frown. They instantly became so content like that, lips moving together so perfectly like they just fit.

It was so gentle, to begin with, Crystal’s hand barely touching the side of Gigi’s face - but then the blonde’s fingers grabbed the top of Crystal’s arm, pulling her closer and prying her mouth open with her tongue. Their lips shifted clumsily against each other, but it still felt so right. Crystal tasted like teardrops and pineapple juice, and Gigi tasted like mint.

As the kiss became more and more heated, Crystal figured out what to do with her free hand. She took Gigi’s hand and led her towards the knot that held her towel together, staring at the blonde with dark, lustful eyes.

“I want you,” Crystal said, like it was a promise, “I need you.”

“I’m yours,” Gigi replied, pulling the knot loose and watching as the towel dropped by Crystal’s feet, showing off tanned curves glistening in water drops, begging to be marked.

They pulled one another in once again in a knee-weakening kiss, their noses colliding with each other as the passion fogged their minds. Soon, they were falling onto Crystal’s bed, and Crystal was watching whilst Gigi undressed herself in front of her.

“Promise me we’ll do this, and then we will talk everything out?” Crystal asked whilst Gigi was pulling her leggings off.

The blonde pressed a gentle kiss against Crystal’s cheek before whispering, “Of course. I love you.”

While Crystal watched Gigi hook a naked leg over her own, all she could think was: Widow VonDu needs a pay rise.

[daniellewade]

was pride really that different this year ?

idk about y’all, but I’ve had a lot of late night thought revelations lately, many of them about myself. and I wasn’t sure if this was worth sharing, but after a conversation I had earlier this week, I want write something out and ramble for a second. this won’t be coherent in any way shape or form. it probably won’t be edited either, but here’s a stream of thought. 

june is usually a month where everything is plastered with rainbows and its this big celebration. this year we all had our attention somewhere else and I think it’s incredibly important. given the matters at hand, I felt bad taking up space saying something for myself. however, I’ve thought about this too much and I want to get it off my chest and into the world somewhere. 

pride for me was never about the parades and public celebration. last year I did get to go and spend the day with some good friends and we had a great time. but I enjoyed it most bc people I loved were having a good time. pride this year was very personal. it was introspective and about the way I saw and felt about myself not how other people felt about or saw me. I then began to think “huh, this feels like pride from before I came out”. but realized, this was always how I celebrated pride regardless of how I told the world I labeled myself. 

since probably 2017, I’d been pretty comfortable identifying as “not straight”, though since I hadn’t picked a label, I assumed that meant I was still questioning things. that went on for a bit and I wasn’t uncomfortable about it by any means bc I wasn’t in any kind of rush to “decide” something. a couple years later, something changed and I subconscioulsy decided that I needed a label to validate it. that time came and went and I didn’t feel anything wrong with that label, so I let it be. if someone asked, I was perfectly comfortable saying I was bi and explaining what that meant to me personally.  

though as of lately, somewhere between lockdown and a very nostalgic pride celebration, I put a few things together. I remembered explicitly saying it, and acknowledging it, and not particularly feeling anything wrong with it. but I remember saying that I chose to label my sexuality bc that made it easier for other people to understand. however, a few months ago I realized that wasn’t what I wanted to do, and it didn’t feel authentic when I voiced an exclusive label. then it really hit when my queer friends started talking about how different pride was going to be this year bc I didn’t completely understand why. but it clicked that bc I never had an eventful coming out or a specific moment of realization to myself, that this year was just a continuation of all the other june’s I spent at home watching documentaries on the history of queer culture, or reading, or whatever the fuck. I simply got to have time with myself and appriciate what I have and the lgbtq+ people in and surrounding my life. 

in that, I realized that though I said it, I didn’t see what I actually meant by it. and that I had labeled my sexuality for the benefit of other people, rather than realizing that simplying acknowledging for myself that I’m not heterosexual was plenty valid. 

I’m not uncomfortable with labels. I don’t mind queer bc to me it has grown to become a large umbrella term that doesn’t necessarily have to be defined. I don’t dislike bi, it doesn’t feel wrong. but it also doesn’t feel like a box that I want society to use to contain me bc I feel like there’s more to me than that. I also don’t mind simply lgbtq+, that’s the community that I idenify with and again, it feels broad enough that I’m not limited by someone elses expectations.

I had a long post last year about pride and those were very real and valid feelings at the time, but I think that as I’ve become more in tune with myself, I’ve discovered more about that part of myself. I think the beautiful thing about the lack of a defined label is that it isn’t a constraint. I may look at this in another year or two and see something from another perspective. but for now, as june draws to a close, I guess I’ll leave this here for now. 

this is someting that has been running through my mind a lot lately, and since this is an unedited ramble, it probably isn’t coherent. but, I wanted to say it out loud somehwere in case someone else needs it. 

happy pride, y’all. 

[quarterfromcanon]

Gradation

Heather & Valencia - Femslash February - Day 7 - Nail Polish [2,503 words]

Home Base was in one of its periods of flux. The late lunch crowd shuffled out while the early dinner customers ambled toward their usual seats. Heather was in the final stretch of her scheduled work hours and expected nothing special from such an unremarkable Thursday. So, when Valencia stepped out of the glaring sunlight and swept in through the door, the surprise visit made for an especially welcome turn of events.

Heather’s excited expression dimmed, however, when she noted an all-too-familiar shift in her companion’s appearance. Valencia’s hair was pulled into a messy bun that looked as though it had been worn up overnight for at least seventy-two hours; her shirt appeared to be a forgotten garment from her high school years, and the legs of her sweatpants pooled around her ankles. Her purse strap was held together by duct tape. Heather had already noticed the discrete Facebook relationship status change the previous week but, even without that prior knowledge, she was familiar enough with Valencia’s dejectedly single fashion sense to recognize it on sight. 

None of the Gurl Group members knew what happened. Right now, Rebecca was only aware of whatever news from the outside world was brought to her on visiting days, but Paula and even Heather herself were kept similarly in the dark. Heather anticipated a severe fallout in the wake of the split from Beth, but witnessing it firsthand was another matter entirely. The sorrow was more physically profound this time than it was after Josh. Valencia’s eyes were ringed by dark, sleep-deprived circles and she was unusually pale in a way that made her seem ill. Several passing patrons corrected their course across the room just to allow her a wider berth. She reached the bar and pulled herself onto a stool. 

Heather waited for a moment, but Valencia did not speak. Her gaze flicked briefly in Heather’s direction and darted away again before there was any risk of eye contact. Instead, she settled for staring at the shiny surface of the bar.

“Hey, stranger,” Heather greeted when several minutes of unbroken silence had passed.

“Hi,” Valencia rasped. Her voice was feeble and scratchy from lack of use, coupled by what Heather guessed had been multiple days of frequent and heavy crying.

Valencia hugged her torso, still not quite able to regard Heather directly. As Valencia rubbed shaking hands up and down her arms, Heather noticed that her fingers were sporting chipped polish in a variety of hues. Heather was momentarily surprised that Valencia indulged in applying paint to her nails, but then it dawned on her what day it was.

“I like your Pride colors,” she told her.

Valencia laughed humorlessly with tears in her eyes. “Happy National Coming Out Day to me.”

She blinked rapidly before splaying out her fingers to examine what remained of the days-old coat. “Beth did these for me, before...” Valencia faked a cough but didn’t finish the sentence. “We decided that since I’m still Official Identity Pending, a rainbow was the right call for my first year being out. She taught me what they meant, too.”

Valencia turned the backs of her palms to face Heather and wiggled each finger as she identified its color symbolism. “Sex, life, healing, sun, nature, the arts, harmony, and spirit. Fitting that the life one ended up on my middle finger since its favorite thing to give me is a resounding ‘Fuck You.’” She shook her head, clenched her hands into fists, and tucked them under the crooks of her elbows. 

“What are the white ones on the ends?” Heather asked tentatively.

Valencia whispered to conceal a break in her voice. “Clouds.” She cleared her throat and chanced a quick look at Heather’s face. “I’m sorry. The last nine days have been hell. I only left the apartment because I didn’t think I could stand being surrounded by the memories any longer. I don’t mean to keep sounding fragile and melodramatic but those are my only two modes right now. Please, ignore me.”

Heather leaned over the bar and brushed her fingers along Valencia’s forearm in a concerned gesture. “Valencia Perez never wants to be ignored.”

Valencia looked into her eyes for the first time and had to visibly choke down a sob. “You’re right. That’s not what’s going to help me. To quote one of the godawful conversation t-shirts she and I saw while we were shopping online together: I’m here. I’m queer. I need a beer.”

Heather gave her a gentle smile. “I’ll take care of you.”

She turned her back and began preparing a glass, but Valencia’s voice stopped her.

“Heather?”

“Hmm?”

“The beer thing was just for the sake of the rhyme, so--”

“One finger of bourbon? I kinda assumed and already started pouring that.”

“Perfect,” Valencia confirmed. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

Heather brought the drink over and set it down before her. Valencia took a sip and shut her eyes. She cupped the beverage on either side and slid it back and forth between her hands. 

“Hey, my work day is done in, like, two minutes. Nobody’s gonna care if I ditch early. I’m basically their boss now, anyway. Do you wanna maybe come outside with me and sit at one of the tables?” Heather suggested.

Valencia twisted around to consider the rest of the clientele, then peered beyond them through the window at the warm glow of the setting sun. “Yeah,” she agreed with a little nod. “That sounds nice.”

“Cool.”

They left the bar and found a spot far enough away from the doors that they were unlikely to be disturbed. Valencia put her drink down and faced the horizon, her back to Heather who was seated opposite from her.

Heather lightly tapped her hands against the rusted tabletop. “The breeze feels good.”

“Autumn’s settling in,” Valencia remarked. 

“Sweatshirt weather.” Heather rocked forward and back on the bench and tapped the toes of her shoes together.

“You can ask if you want to.”

Heather frowned and leaned on her elbows. “I don’t want to make you face something before you’re ready, V. But, if you wanna talk to me, I’ll listen. To anything, really. Not just about this.”

Valencia took another drink. “It’s okay. I’ve been wallowing in it for long enough. I think I can at least get through telling you the basics.”

“Okay.” Heather gripped the crosshatched metal under her fingers and waited patiently.

Valencia took a deep breath. “Beth asked me to come with her to New York,” she announced on the exhale.

“To visit? Didn’t you just go on a weekend trip not that long ago for her parents’ anniversary?”

“Yeah, we did. And no. Not to visit. To live. Permanently.”

Heather’s stomach lurched at the thought. “Oh.”

“I said no.”

In spite of herself, Heather’s heart gave a relieved throb. “How come?”

“It just wasn’t right for me. I tried to keep an open mind. I swear to God, I did. Beth and I had fun on the visit and I could see how much she lit up to be back around familiar places and people. I’m all she really had out here. But New York is so big and crowded and confusing. It swallows you whole. I just kept remembering what Rebecca said on the party bus, the day you and I first met. To me, it looked and felt just like she described. That city may be home to some people -- it clearly is to Beth -- but, as far as I’m concerned, I’d side with Rebecca on this one. Much as this place annoys me and pisses me off, I’d take West Covina over NYC any day.”    

Valencia polished off the last of the alcohol.

“So, she’s going back?” Heather cautiously filled in the blanks. “...Without you?”

“Yeah.” Valencia swung her legs over the bench so she and Heather could be eye to eye. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave my life behind. My family’s here. Everything I know. And my friends... I finally have those, for the first time in so long... possibly ever... real friends, and I just got them. Was I supposed to put a whole country between myself and the happiest I’ve ever been, go back to just being somebody’s girlfriend who doesn’t really fit in with their crowd? Should I have done that?”

The teardrops she’d been keeping at bay thus far spilled down her face in two winding trails that reached her chin and then plummeted to the cement underfoot.

“Beth’s one of the most caring, patient, and kind people I’ve met in my entire life. I never wanted to hurt her. But the move would’ve destroyed me. I knew she wouldn’t want me to lie to her but, God, telling the truth broke both our hearts.”

She folded her arms, dropped her head onto them, and then began weeping in earnest. Heather climbed up and over the table to sit beside her. She pulled Valencia into her arms and held fast while her best friend shook with bereavement.

Heather rocked from side to side and rubbed circles on Valencia’s back. Her own throat was burning with sympathetic emotion that she could barely keep in check. “I’ve got you,” she murmured, distraught by the inadequacy of the only sentence that would come to mind.

Eventually, Valencia quieted to sporadic shudders and an occasional sniffle. “Your poor blouse. It’s sopping wet now.”

Heather pulled back and gripped Valencia’s arms. “I don’t care. It’ll air dry.”

“I’ve kept you with me so long,” Valencia said apologetically. “You could’ve been home with Hector ages ago.”

Heather tensed and let her hands fall into her lap. “Um, yeah, he’s not worrying about me, so... it’s fine.”

Valencia detected the evasiveness in her tone. “What do you mean?”

“He kinda moved out. I kinda encouraged that... by calling if off between us.” 

Valencia’s brow furrowed. “I don’t understand. Also, how long were you going sit there and let me rattle on about myself without telling me what happened?”

“As long as you needed.”

Valencia’s expression softened. “Well, now I need to be able to return the favor. So talk to me.”

Heather ran both hands over her tied-back curls and sighed. “He didn’t do anything bad. He’s a great guy. We got along super well. I think he might be the first time I ever felt like I was dating a friend.”

Valencia shook her head, perplexed. “Then what changed?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay, I’m lost.”

“Yeah. So was I.” Heather lifted her shoulders helplessly. “That’s the problem. I know I’m not a big planner -- that’s your specialty -- but, even for me, I got into bed with Hector way too fast. Literally and figuratively.”

Valencia grimaced but smoothed her features once more and patted Heather’s knee. “Go on.”

“He was reliable and accepting and a total sweetheart. We were getting used to the flow of our routine and building up a new life together,” Heather continued, “but, it was like you said about New York: it just wasn’t right for me.”

Heather met Valencia’s gaze for a moment but then fiddled with the shoelace on the foot she was resting atop the bench. “Not to make Rebecca’s jail time sound like a good thing -- because it’s not, at all -- but without her around, I got a taste of what a future with just me and Hector could be like. I couldn’t find anything wrong with it... but nothing felt right.” She fidgeted and kept her eyes downcast. “Anyway, we sat down at the table one night and had a really long talk. There wasn’t any yelling; it wasn’t over-the-top. Just really sad. But we came to an agreement that this was for the best. He’s crashing with WhiJo now.”

Valencia nodded and gave herself time to absorb the information. “Wow.” She trailed her fingertip along the edge of the bench. “Why’s it so painful if we made the choice?”

“I don’t know. I just know it fucking sucks.”

“Hear, hear.”

They both sat in silence for a minute while the breeze tousled their hair.

Valencia slapped her hands against her thighs. “Enough of this. I need a distraction. I think you could use one, too.” She adjusted the taped strap over her shoulder. “Why don’t I paint Pride nails for you? I still have a few of the bottles in the bottom of this purse.”

Heather thought it over for a bit and shrugged. “Okay.”

“You’ve got to go back to the other side, though, so I’ve got room to work.”

Heather dutifully clambered over to her previous bench, the awkward process of which made Valencia laugh for the first time in weeks. Heather smiled too and, once she was settled, fanned out her left hand across the table. 

Valencia rummaged through her bag and produced three colors: pink, lavender, and blue. “That’s the order, right?”

“Yeah, you’ve got it.”

Valencia unscrewed the first lid and took Heather’s hand in hers. She applied the pink in small, delicate strokes. “You know, I really didn’t thank you enough for coming out to me when I was struggling to come out to myself. You showed me a side of the journey that I don’t know if I could have pictured otherwise. You’re so confident in your own skin, so at ease with who you are. Sure, I saw some of that with WhiJo being so openly gay while we were growing up, but it all has a way bigger impact when it’s coming from someone you trust.”

A flicker of pain crossed Heather’s face, but Valencia’s focus on the task prevented her from catching it. “Glad to help,” Heather said simply.

Valencia opened the lavender bottle. “You always do.”

Heather’s senses felt heightened and the touch of Valencia’s fingers beneath hers left subtle bumps along the sides of her arms. 

“All right, one blue and this hand will be ready,” Valencia declared.

“Looks good.” Heather gulped and turned her attention to the sun, which had now disappeared halfway behind the crest of the land. “The baseball field is actually kinda pretty at this time of day.”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Valencia agreed. “But I’d better hurry. If I don’t wrap this up, the sky will match your nails and I’ll be painting the right hand in the dark.”

She finished the blue fingernail and brought Heather’s hand close to her lips. “This one’s ready to dry,” she explained, and then began to blow on the polish. 

Valencia’s breath tickled across Heather’s ring finger and she shivered. “Thanks for doing this. You were right about it being a distraction. It helps.”

“My pleasure. I’m glad it’s working for you, too.” She locked eyes with Heather again. “I want you to know I’ll always be here for you.”

Heather’s pulse thrummed against her ribs. “Thank you. And you know you can count on me too, right?”

Valencia ran her thumb across the backs of Heather’s fingers and smiled. “I do.”

[hahanoiwont]

Also please explain abt the spn thing

alright my dude, buckle up buckaroos. Here’s how Supernatural (yes, that Supernatural) led me to the college of my dreams and a haunting question that I can never even attempt to answer.

So. A while ago, I was just beginning to turn my life around after like 3 years at rock bottom. At the same time, I started getting into Supernatural. It was about brothers, it had supernatural (ha. haha) themes, it wasn’t too involved episode to episode, I’d been meaning to check it out for years--it was perfect. It was everything I was looking for.

So, of course, I got hardcore into it. I read fic, I wrote fic. I read some cringey, cringey stuff. I loved the character Sam. He didn’t fit into his family, he was always cast in feminine roles despite being a man, he was one of the only characters that didn’t fall so much into violent masculinity, he had consistent possession/agency themes; I loved him. And idk if you’re familiar with the fandom, but there’s Discourse(TM) about that. He’s not the most popular major character.

So. When I ran out of fic that really explored what I wanted to see, what do I do? I go to the authors I like and I check their other works. And I see that link. the link that I have been avoiding for so long, but which haunts and tempts me. more work from authors you already like, it says. don’t you like this summary? it’s basically the same thing. But new. something you haven’t read before. don’t you want that?

You know. This link:

I click the link.

I justify it to myself. They signed up to be in the public spotlight, I say. It’s not like I’m gonna be weird about it. I don’t think they’re like this at all, these are just characters. It’s fine, I say. But the cold, hard fact is: I click the link.

And I do find a really, really good fic. I haven’t read it before. It’s a new, refreshing take on a college au, which I rarely like, but this one is great. It really gets what it’s like to be a young queer man who’s struggling to accept himself, to decide who to come out to, who’s combating compulsive heterosexuality and trying to find his way in the world all at once. It makes me feel understood, accepted, when I’m just beginning to come to terms with myself. And it’s based on this real college, say the author’s notes. With real locations all listed.

Oh, but it gets better.

The author’s notes also say that whoever wrote this wonder fic works at the college in question. That’s their real, adult job. And they love it. They couldn’t be more impressed with the campus, the students, the culture...the love they have for this place pours out of every word and detail.

Cool, I say to myself. I wonder what that college is.

I was a young fool who did not see where this was clearly headed.

I leave my comment, I bookmark the fic for my bad day folder. I move on.

But college admissions is around the corner, and if there’s one thing I know about me, it’s that being sat down by An Adult(TM) to do something is a surefire way to get me to do something else. So when I’m supposed to be looking up real colleges that I’ll really go to, I look up this fanfiction college, and I tell my advisor that I’m thinking of applying there. I get a little giggle about it, but no harm done, right?

But then, when applications time comes, I need to apply to one more college. And I need to choose quick if I want financial aid with the apps. Like, 5 minutes quick. So, what the hell, right? I apply to fanfiction college. It does actually have a lot of things I want: small classes, undergrad research, pretty good academic rep, far away from home. I’m not gonna go there, but it looks nice on my ‘other schools I’ve applied to’ forms.

Joke’s on me, though. through a series of events, I am given the ability to visit 2 colleges on my list. And my parents say, hey, that one in Texas looks pretty nice. Why not that one?

It is not a suggestion.

Oh, no, I think.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” I say. So I visit two colleges. One in Florida (lizards on campus are a strong selling point, transphobic relatives very near by, Florida, and the fact that everyone there is fucking creepy are stronger dissuasions)

And then the fanfiction school. I visit when it’s raining. It’s unbearably hot. I get lost twice and embarrass myself in front of the cab driver and the admissions guy on two separate occasions. But it’s still a really nice visit. It’s a really nice school. I can see myself going here, I think. It has everything I want.

Oh, no.

I step back and review my options (the one I read about in fanfiction? seriously???), but it’s too late. I already visited. There are cats on campus that you can just visit whenever you want. The professors are friendly and available to students. The campus is really nice. I’m a little in love.

But somewhere. Somewhere on campus, someone wrote

and that’s why I’m here

I need to live with that. If I go here, that is a part of my life that I cannot escape.

But it’s too late to save me now. Also, the other school was fucking creepy, I’m not going there. So I apply to the fanfiction college.

Since then, I’ve had an incredible time. The education can’t be beat, I think my professors are great, campus is beautiful, it never gets too cold. It’s a dream world for me. But like Pandora and her box, there is one thing I must never, ever find out.

I can never know who wrote that god damned fanfiction.

[chemically-imbalanced-romance]

I Won’t Say I’m In Love [Pre-Draft]

I’ll try to keep this short even though I have a lot to say

This fic was meant to be a one off, but a lot lot longer, and it didn’t end up that way. I got a sudden surge of motivation and since it was the first and so far only dose I’ve gotten for months, I went with it. If you guys like this enough for me to actually turn it into what it was originally envisioned- A cute origin fic of a quiet moody Virgil and a sheepish flirty Roman -then just lmk, and I’ll see if I can stir up any leftover motivation.

A huge huge thanks to my dear boy @confusedcaleb​ and @dazedtrains​ ((idk which blog you’d want me to tag lmao)) for reading this for me and encouraging me to actually write it. Fun fact: He’s the cute transboy I was talking about meeting a bunch of months ago.

Wow this really was supposed to be short

Anyway, no trigger warnings except for some crude language 

   “You’re kidding, right? He’s kidding.”

   Logan quirked an eyebrow. “Well, generally, I’d agree. He doesn’t look kidding, though.”

   Patton whined. “Come on, what’s the big deal?”

   “I have plans,” Virgil muttered.

  Patton squinted at him, trying to decide whether to call him out on his bullshit or congratulate him for getting out of the house.

   “Don’t bother, Patton,” Logan said. “He’s lying to you.”

   Patton gasped. “That’s so unfair!”

  Virgil turned away and resumed shoving his things in his backpack. The week’s worth of homework he’d been hoarding stuck out of his binder messily; He planned on using his assignments to kill time over the weekend. Usually he’d spend the weekend sleeping, or crashing at Logan or Patton’s house, but is only two friends were going to be busy and he’d been having trouble sleeping lately.

   He slung his backpack over his shoulder and looked at them. “He invited you, okay?” His voice was quiet, but strong. “You can go if you want, but don’t drag me into it.”

   Patton pouted, his eyes shining. God, why me. “Please?”

   Logan offered Virgil a sliver of a smile. “Don’t make me brood alone.”

   Tag teaming. Totally unfair.

   “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled. “Can I get a ride?”

  Patton squealed, jumping to throw his arms around Virgil. He squeezed the life out of him and moved on to do the same to Logan.

   “Remy’ll be picking us up. Just be ready at seven, okay?”

  Virgil cursed under his breath as a car honked outside. He stumbled around his room, snatching his hoodie and the two Monsters he had left on the desk, before dashing out.

   “You don’t know what a text is?” He muttered so that only Logan could hear as he climbed into the back of Remy’s car.

   Remy pulled away from Virgil’s house before his door was even closed. He started towards Patton’s house.

  Remy grinned at him through the rearview mirror, a sharp grin on his face. Due to the darkness, he was lacking his favourite sunglasses, showcasing his gray eyes.

   “Virgil! Glad you could make it.”

   “Can’t relate.”

   “Can’t help but notice you have two of those.”

  Virgil held out one of his Monsters. “Figured I could prevent some kind of fire,” he said while Logan opened it and handed it over to Remy.

  Remy was one of the most intelligent, talented people on the theatre crew. He knew this, too, which was why he refused to let anything lack his touch. He took on every project he could and got less sleep than Virgil, which was really a world record. One time Sophomore year, Remy’d gone a week without any sleep, and fell asleep in the middle of opening night- On the soundboard. He vowed not to let that happen again.

  He stopped at Patton’s house, also only kind of allowing him to get in before starting again. Patton grinned and attack-hugged Virgil again.

   “Yay! I thought you would change your mind.”

  Patton was the only one who apparently saw this as an event worthy enough of a new outfit. The rest of the boys were wearing what they’d been for school that day, but Patton picked out a lavender skirt and matching combat boots.

   Patton babbled on through the car ride, Logan and Virgil idly listening but Remy really the only one indulging him, until they got to the school. Remy thanked Virgil for the caffeine before he left to join the rest of the crew backstage, Virgil, Logan, and Patton taking their usual seats in the front.

   Virgil crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, sliding down in the seat.

  Remy had been inviting them to performances of all kind since Freshman year, and they went to every single one. Virgil knew the name of pretty much any student in the school who was A) slightly queer, B) slightly creative, or C) both. Any new faces stuck out like a sore thumb. So when the lights went down and the leading role came out onto the stage, Virgil’s honest-to-God first reaction was to lean to Logan’s side and mumble, “Who’s that asshole?”

   “Roman. He got here a few months ago. What, Remy hasn’t mentioned him to you yet?” Virgil shook his head. “Lucky you. He won’t shut up about him.”

   “Why?”

   “He’s an asshole.”

  Virgil snorted and sunk back in his seat, focusing back on the production. As always, the would-be trainwreck was pulled together last minute by the few drama kids who actually gave a shit, and managed to be pretty enjoyable. The only difference was the new guy practically sparkling in the stage lights.

   When the lights came back on and the majority of the audience poured out of the auditorium, Patton rushed to pull out a crumpled bouquet of flowers from his backpack. Virgil and Logan followed behind, muttering congratulations as Patton went down the line to hand a flower to everyone.

   Virgil and Logan both had been ready to leave for a half hour by now, but Remy was their ride home and they would’ve stuck around to congratulate him, anyway. Patton approached Remy with his arm slung around Roman’s shoulders with the remainder flowers. He grinned as he held them out.

  Virgil rolled his eyes, Logan chuckling as Remy made a big show of accepting them, kissing Patton on the cheek and handing one over to Roman.

   Roman blushed. “Thank you.”

   “You did so good!” Patton bounced up and down, hardly containing his excitement. “I told you!”

   They’ve met before?

  Well, that did make sense. Patton went to practically every rehearsal- It wouldn’t make sense for him to not have latched himself against Roman’s side. Any time there was a new kid, Patton was the first one they met. He tended to hover around and shower them in gifts and favours until they found their own friends. It would be annoying if Patton wasn’t so damn good at being a friend. He read people really well and adapted quickly. Logan and Virgil wouldn’t have ever imagined they be friends with someone like him, but, well, Patton really knew how to take care of them.

   Virgil went to take out his phone, knowing Patton and Remy could sit talking for hours, when Logan nudged him.

   “What?” He grumbled. He didn’t look up, but Logan nudged him again, so Virgil shot him a glare. “What?”

  Logan nodded to the boys; Virgil glanced over and caught Roman poorly disguising the fact that he was clearly staring at him.

   Virgil blinked. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable.

   “Okay,” he mumbled, hurriedly pulling his phone out.

   “You’re an idiot,” Logan sighed.

   “I know,” he snapped. His heart was racing.

  With Remy and Patton completely distracted by their conversation, Logan was free to shove Virgil as hard as he could without Patton’s scolding.

   “Motherfuc-”

   Logan was probably going for something ‘romantic-’ Shoving Virgil into Roman’s chest, having Roman catch him, maybe some life-changing eye contact. Unfortunately for everyone involved, Logan sucked. He completely missed, slamming Virgil into the stage next to Roman while Roman watched with wide eyes.

   “Virgil!” Patton rushed over to him, cutting off his sight of Roman. “Are you okay? What happened?”

   “He tripped,” Logan cut in before Virgil could cut him out.

   “Are you okay?” Patton asked.

   “Fine,” he grumbled. His hip hurt and his face was on fire. “Can we go?”

   “Actually, Patton-”

   Oh my god I’m going to throw something at him.

   “I need to talk to you and Remy before we leave.” Logan’s face was the picture of innocence. “Is that okay?”

   Patton bit his lip, looking between Logan and Virgil. “Uh… Yeah! Roman?”

  Oh my god.

   Virgil glared at him, silently promising murder as Patton asked Roman to walk Virgil to the car.

   Roman blushed. “Yeah! Sure. Okay. Sure.”

   “We’ll be there in a few minutes!”

   Before Roman could get to him, Virgil turned around and stormed off, ramming his shoulder into Logan’s on the way.

  Outside, despite being several steps behind, Roman talked like they were right next to each other. “I didn’t get your name?”

   He wanted to tell him to fuck off, but rather it be anxiety or manners, he couldn’t. “Virgil.”

   “I’m Roman. Do you, ah-?”

   “I can walk myself.”

   “Right.”

  Virgil stopped at Remy’s car, Roman stopping a few inches in front of him. He twisted his flower between his fingers, biting his lip. Virgil crossed his arms over his chest and looked away.

   “I, uh… I like your hair,” Roman mumbled.

   Virgil glanced up. “Uh. Thanks.” He’s gotten a few compliments on his purple hair. Never from hot guys.

  What the hell did Logan even have in mind when he sent them out here? It wasn’t like anything was going to happen. Clearly. They were both messes of anxiety, they were just going to stand there the whole time.

   “Are you friends with Remy?” Roman asked, desperately trying to keep up conversation. Great.

   Virgil shrugged. “I’m friends with Patton. Patton’s friends with Remy.”

   “He talks about you a lot,” he said quietly.

   Virgil furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah?” Roman nodded.

  Awkward silence washed over them and Virgil prayed for Logan to come outside so he could strangle him. He’ll have to find a way around Patton to get to him…

   “Jesus,” Virgil finally groaned. How long could they take?

   “He probably knows…” Roman trailed off, his face red.

   Virgil glanced at him. “What?”

   “Well, uh… He probably figured we wouldn’t really talk… Easily…”

   “Logan?”

   “Mhm.”

  Right. He wasn’t an idiot- Of course he knew Logan planned this. Which means Roman’s probably not this awkward at all- Just uncomfortable with the thought of being set up with a dude.

   “Just ignore him,” Virgil mumbled. “He’s an asshole. I know you’re not interested.”

   Roman looked at him in surprise. “I’m interested.”

   “What?” Virgil’s heart slammed against his chest.

   Roman stuttered around his words. “I, ah- I’m interested. In, uh. In you.”

   Virgil’s first instinct was to say, ‘No, you’re not,’ but, God, what a dick move. Save that for later.

   He blinked. “Okay.”

   Roman deflated a little. “Are, uh…”

   “Oh, fuck- Right! Yeah. Yeah, I’m, uh…” Goddamnit. He didn’t think he’d ever been so embarrassed.

  The front doors to the school opened, Logan, Remy, and Patton walking out, heavily engaged in conversation. Roman hesitated, before stepping forward and pressing his flower into Virgil’s hand, and walking to Remy. Virgil gripped the stem, frozen, his eyes wide and his cheeks red.

  He still had to sit in the front seat on the ride home to keep himself from killing Logan, but he stayed silent the entire ride, a flurry of embarrassment, excitement, and anxiety swirling around in his stomach.

  He didn’t know what the hell to do with a flower when he got home, and he was too damn tired to Google it, so he just set it on his dresser and fell back on his bed.

   The knowledge of it sitting across the room kept Virgil up half the night; He persistently tried distracting himself, as every time he thought of Roman giving him the flower gave him a powerful surge of emotion that he just didn’t know what to do with.

   He prayed the feelings would go away soon, but he seriously doubted it.

   Fuck you, Logan.

[please-dont-hurt-me]

Who The Hell Is Kevin

Minor warning: there is a crossover because not only is this fluff, angst, but it is also crack. Day 3: Comfort.

ao3 link

“I’m just so surprised that they wanted me to lecture there.” Bruce said excitedly as he shrugged himself into the formal blazer that Tony had bought for him after one sleepless night watching binge watching Queer eye.  

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Thor reached over to softly wrap his hand around Bruce’s tie to pull Bruce into a deep, gentle, and loving kiss before he pulled away and smiled. “You are the leading scientist in regard to Gamma radiation and Asgardian specific Xenobiology and Xeno-anthropology. You’re so brilliant and they’re lucky to hear you speak.”

Bruce blushed but rolled his eyes. He leaned back into Thor to meet him halfway for another kiss. “Yeah, but I never thought I would be able to lecture at my old college.”

Thor laughed and tugged on his own formal attire, “That’s true but you never thought Aliens could exist and yet here we are.”

Bruce giggled as he agreed, “Here we are indeed.”

Thor leaned in for another kiss but then Bruce’s phone started ringing in his pocket. Bruce pulled the phone out and jabbed the green button.

“What?” Bruce asked rather harshly, blushing from the interruption.

“Don’t act like that, Mad scientist number 2, you told me to make sure you get out of the door. Also, did you drop Jodie off yet or is Happy just taking his time?”  Tony’s voice rang out of the phone.

Thor and Bruce groaned in unison. They had asked him to do that. But now they were kind of regretting it, though it was good that he had followed through on the promise since they might have not gotten out of the house at all.

“We’re heading out right now.” Bruce blatantly lied into the phone as he wrestled his feet into his dress shoes. “And yes we have, she’s been out of the house for the past five minutes. ”

“Uh-huh, sure you are.” Tony said so blandly and clearly unconvinced. Bruce obviously couldn't see Tony, but he could almost see Tony looking at his well-manicured nails in a sense of boredom.

Bruce ignored it and grabbed his keys from the mantel piece.  “Yeah, yeah. Well, call you later.”

He waved to Thor, mouthing ‘Let’s go’ and Thor nodded.

Tony laughed in Bruce’s ear. “Yeah, Biday nichchhi.”

Bruce huffed in amusement as he opened the door and held it open for his husband, “Bengali?”

Thor passed him and gave him a kiss on the cheek before stealing the keys out of his hand and heading towards the car.

Tony laughed again, "Ever since Hulk cursed at me in Portuguese during the last mission, I needed to figure out what else you could speak.”

Thor beeped open the car and sat in the driver’s seat. Bruce locked the door behind him and smiled. “Have fun with that, Bhalo theko.” Bruce said and then hung up. He hurried himself down the stairs and sat himself in the passenger seat.  

He turned to Thor and smiled at how ... human his husband looked in the formal clothes. Thor usually had a godly air about him with his royal armor and stuff. And while that was attractive, Bruce liked this side as well.

Thor smiled at his approving gaze but looked away to focus on the road.

“Now we take our leave, kjæresten min.” Thor said as he drove out of the driveway and to the road.

___________________________________________

Bruce and Thor rushed into the hall.

They were a bit late. Bruce will admit it. Though there was no way that this was his or Thor’s fault, it was bad traffic and bad parking. In hindsight, they probably should have gotten a lyft or whatever.

But that wasn't important, what was important was finding room 327.

They were in the right hall, Bruce was sure of it, but there were so many goddamn doors. Each one had a different number and some of them shared a classroom.

Bruce was growing impatient. And anxious. His hands were probably growing greener by the second.

“Excuse me, are you Doctor Bruce Banner?” A small voice asked, which led to both Thor and Bruce turning abruptly to see a young latina woman.  

“Yes, I am, and you are?” Bruce asked nervously, Thor grabbed his hand and squeezed his hand.

“I am Professor Alexandria Flores.” The woman smiled sweetly at Bruce before looking at Thor and seemed quite confused when she said, “Kevin what are you doing here? When I asked you if you were coming to the lecture, you said that you were going on a date? And you never told me you knew Doctor Banner.”

Bruce blinked and looked around but there was no one but Bruce, Thor, and the professor. Who was Kevin?

Before Bruce could voice his confusion, Thor step forward and greeted the professor in a very not-Thor kind of way. ” Oh yeah. About that... My date cancelled on me and Bruce here offered me to come to a lecture though I didn’t realize that it was the same event that you invited me to. Sorry ‘bout that.”

That was so put together, Bruce almost believed it. Which was weird because Thor isn't usually this good of a liar, given how he folded whenever Bruce raised an eyebrow at him at the slightest lie of omission or white lie.

Professor Flores waved of Thor’s apology. “It’s no bother Kevin, life happens.”  

Bruce looked back and forth between the two people in front of, equally confused. But Thor patted his shoulder and gave him a face that Bruce assumed to say, ‘we’ll talk later’. “We should go to the lecture hall; can you guide us there?”

“Certainly.” Professor Flores said and led the two of them to a door and into a large lecture hall.

-----------------------------------------------------

Bruce finished his presentation less focused than he had been originally. His brain just kept going back to the conversation in the hallway.  

Did she make a mistake between Thor and this Kevin? Was there a clone epidemic? Was there someone who looked like him that was being called something bland like David? Why did Thor respond? Did Thor follow some of the Avenger’s example and get a secret identity?  

Bruce felt his eye twitch with the enormous effort not to look at his Husband. What the fuck, Thor?

Originally, he had a couple more jokes in his presentation and more minutes for questions. But after the hallway incident, he made time for 3 jokes and 3 questions with decent answers, not as short as Bruce would have had if he had less self-control.

He looked at Thor and grabbed his hand, starting to walk out but ended up bumping into professor Flores. He smiled at her and hoped his teeth didn’t looked like a threat display. He had a habit of doing that when he was stressed. “Thank you, Professor, for allowing this to happen but we have to go.”

She smiled kindly at him, so he wasn’t giving her chimpanzee fuck-off face (with green veins courtesy of Hulk). Thank god that wouldn’t be easy to explain to Avengers PR (a.e Tony). “It was a pleasure Doctor Banner. It was nice to see you too, Kevin.”

Before Thor (or Kevin) could answer, Bruce pulled his arm. “Sorry, but there is something we have to get to. He’s got a doctor’s appointment at 9 in the morning and it’s already 8 pm. So, we should go.”

He didn't stay long to see whatever face that Professor Flores made.  

He dragged his very heavy husband to the car and look at him dead in the eye. “We’re going to go home, I’m going to drink a pot of chamomile tea and eat some of the fudge you made, and then you’re going to tell me who on earth is Kevin. Because right now, my bets are either on pod people or clones.”

Thor smiled, “I will.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Bruce groaned and then lightly hit his head on the steering wheel (he didn’t want to accidently honk right now, that would have been embarrassing). He shifted his head to look at Thor from the steering wheel. “Sorry for being weird in there. I just wanted to go home and figure out what’s going on.”

Thor’s eye softened. “Let’s go home and I’ll explain.”

Bruce lifted his head, nodded, and put the keys in the ignition. They start the drive back home in friendly silence until Thor turns on Npr. Bruce lets himself turn over their shared words on the familiar road home, letting them settle halfway there, and chuckling at joke on the radio.  

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

But by the time that they’re both back home, Bruce is back to confused and slightly stressed.  

He took a breather like Thor had suggested when they had crossed the threshold. He had sat down in the large comfy couch that Thor had brought home one day. He held his head in his hand and started doing a breathing exercise.

After 20 minutes, he almost felt completely calm and then he heard a scraping sound and looked up to see Thor gently pushing the coffee table in front of him. He looked at the table to find a Hulk sized cup of tea, a pan of fudge, and a (very new) weighted blanket.

He remembered his comment in the car that was soon followed by babble about bets and pod people, and he felt himself melt into the couch. “You remembered.”

“Of course, I remembered.” Thor said softly after he had kissed Bruce’s forehead gently. “Drink this for a little bit. I put some honey in it.”

Bruce smiled while he sipped the not-too-hot tea. He watched his husband walk around the room and do various tasks, like dimming the lights and turning off the radio in the other room. Bruce smiled. His husband. God, he loved saying it and thinking that. His husband. Bruce giggled softly, not even going to deny it.

He just loves Thor so much.

Thor hadn’t always been this... perfect, when dealing with Bruce’s issues. He had become frozen before or tried to hug him. Well at first. When Bruce had explained, he was better. He had learned when to back off and when to comfort. But this, Bruce thought as he took another sip, this was a new development.

Thor sat down on the couch, though he was a foot away from him which was sweet (they had a big couch because they frequently had more than three guests over at a time). “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bruce nodded and took another sip of his tea, setting down the mug for a second, then picking up the weighted blanket and putting it over his shoulder. He picked up the mug again, taking a sip before he said, “Yeah, it would be nice to know what Professor Flores meant when she called you Kevin.”

Thor nodded softly. “I will, but I must warn you: it’s quite a long story.”

Bruce chuckled and shook his head. “Our entire life is just one complicated long story. I’m a radioactive semi-sane scientist with a habit of seeing green instead of red and you’re an alien god who can control the weather.”  

Thor chuffed and tapped the couch three times. I love you. “I know, but I warned you.”

Bruce smiled and tapped back, I love you. “I’m listening, so explain to me why you all of a sudden have a secret identity that neither Shield or your husband, me, know about and give some context into how you know a teacher at my alma mater.”

Thor bit his lip and looked up, probably trying to remember the specifics. “Okay... so you know how you weren’t here because you landed on Sakaar.”

Bruce lifted an eyebrow. “Yes. I’m very aware of this.”

Thor smiled at him and tapped again. “Okay, so before Steve meeting his brother-in-arms and The Avenger’s First Breakup (or whatever in the nine realms that was), I was bored and visited Tony. He made a reference about me being a blond man of steel. I didn't know what that was, but Steve did. So then there was a movie marathon and a lot of comic store raids.”

Bruce looked at Thor in disbelief. “So, you decided to get a secret identity after reading comics and binge watching the Superman movies? ... Even that one with Batman that Tony showed me?”

Thor clenched his teeth in embarrassment. “.... Bruce, it wasn't just that. It sounds very silly now that you say it like that. There’s more to it.”

Bruce laughed. “Sorry. Please explain why you became Clark Kent and how you know the Professor?”

Thor was quiet for a moment before saying, “The secret identity has a lot behind it so you will have to wait for how it ties into present times. But I will get to it in good time, please be patient my love.”

Bruce should not be melting this much; his husband was a health hazard. Bruce’s heart was going to explode. Bruce tried to mask how much that pet name got to him by softly saying, “I’ll try.”

Thor nodded and then continued where he left off before Bruce interrupted him.  

“And I found myself bored. Often. There were missions, but they were few and far between, our teammates were drifting and starting to lose contact with me, Jane was busy with getting a new grant and I had been explicitly instructed not to distract her, Daryll told me to leave after five months, and I was an irresponsible prince who was avoiding Asgard and my father. So, I tried asking Tony if he knew anything that I could distract me with. He was busy in his lab like he was after Ultron, so Pepper told me to act human and get a job.”

Bruce nodded, “And that’s where the identity came from.”

Thor nodded before continuing, “Pepper made it look like I was a.... how did Tony put it.... Oh yes! He called me a ‘trust fund kid working on an bachelors in the arts at some off brand Ivy league school with my daddy’s money.’ ”

Bruce laughed, that definitely sounded like Tony. “Takes one to know one.”

Thor nodded, his grin getting bigger by the minute. “That’s what Pepper said. But then nothing happened with any kind of job since I didn't know how to make a resume or know how to do anything with modern electronics. I told Darcy about it and she laughed at first but then a couple of months later, she sent me an ad for a receptionist that was made by a group called the Ghostbusters. Darcy told me that she knew one of them, Erin gilbert, a brilliant professor in Quantum physics but got fired due to a viral video and a book that she co-wrote about ghosts. ”

Thor paused there, clearly expecting a reaction.  

Well, Bruce is going to give one.

“Doctor Gilbert got fired? Ghosts? Are you sure?” He asked and raised his eyebrow.

Erin gilbert was one of his friends (or classmates, they didn’t talk much especially after January of junior year and Bruce has a sneaking suspicion that Joey was the cause of it) who was in one of his 3-hour long classes when he was working on his first degree. She was always very shy and twitchy. People seem to always make fun of her, for either something to do with ghosts or because they thought she was queer.

Thor nodded. “Yes, she did, but she ended up having a better time out of the school.”

“How do you know-” Bruce spluttered before sighing. “you took the job, didn’t you? How did that even happen.”

“She had put out an ad for a receptionist and also sent it to people she knew to try and get help. So, I ended up in a Chinese restaurant, telling them that I came in for the job and got it with my pretty face.” Thor grinned at Bruce.

Bruce laughed before lightly hitting Thor on the shoulder. “You did not!”

“I did. I was kind of an idiot at playing human. I didn’t know how to answer the phone or anything. And it was kind of apparent with how Erin kept looking at me.” Thor said and looked ... like how Jennifer always felt when a guy cat called her. “It was odd... but it ended up being fine after she and Holtz got together. But that’s not the point. I got possessed by a evil ghost and then tried to start the apocalypse. ”

Thor smiled at the last bit, so Bruce is going to focus on the other parts of that sentence. He took a sip. “... Ghosts?”

Thor nodded quite sagely, “Ghosts.”

Bruce nodded, still mulling it over. “I can see why you told me that it was a long story. Wait a second, you got possessed?”

Thor shrugged. “Yeah it was really weird, it took over my body and killed a bunch of people. It was weird, and the ghost apparently was a ‘sexist asshole’, so that was a disturbing experience.”

He blinked. Thor smiled. Bruce nodded slower, getting more and more confused by the minute. “Okay... continue I guess.”

“Uhm. Alright, so I was their receptionist before the dreams started.” Thor said and then stopped. A glassy look in his eyes.

Bruce tapped his shoulder. “The dreams?”

Thor blinked, coming back to himself. He nodded. “I didn’t know it at the time, but I started to see variations of Ragnarök. I saw Sutur, flames encircling Asgard’s highest towers, Baldur falling to the ground and staining it with blood and his eyes glazing over. I saw Loki and Heimdall fall to dust, the world eating giants at war with father, and a giant wolf eating the sun. I saw Asgard’s reckoning, so I took a pause at playing human and went to stop it. And ended up bringing it.”

Bruce put his hand on Thor’s shoulder and put his mug down. “Thor...”

Thor hummed.

“I know it’s not my fault, not entirely. But I was a part of it and Asgard had almost completed it’s fall before we arrived to stop Hela. She and her undead army killed over 65% of the realm. We saved my people from certain death, and yet... we are now so few.” He ran his hand through his short hair. That’s not a good sign.

“No.” Bruce said. He grabbed Thor’s hands and replaced them with his own two.

Thor blinked, his eye shining with unshed tears. “What.”

Bruce pulled Thor over (apparently a smaller difference than he originally thought) and pressed his forehead to Thor’s. “I know it’s probably due time for an angst fest on your end after all this time listening to me and you definitely need it. But you were in no way responsible for Ragnarök. You didn't tell Odin to cage Hela, you didn’t make the prophecy, you’ve loved everyone and tried to appeal to their better nature. I love you and you are the reason that Asgard still lives. Heimdall said that Asgard is a people, not a place. And you’ve saved them from extinction. You are not a bad person. ”

Thor sniffed and brought one of his hands out of his lap to wipe his eye.

“Thank you, my dearest love. I needed that.” He then made a face. “I was supposed to be comforting you, not the other way around.”

Bruce smiled and kissed Thor’s forehead as he intertwined his hands with his husband’s. “That’s what marriage is, supporting each other through the bits where we remember our tragic backstories like young adult characters. Now, can you please explain how this relates back to why a teacher of my alma mater knows your secret identity.”

Thor sighed and leaned back. “I’m trying. So.... after Ragnarök but before we landed on earth. It was one of the first nights where we started sleeping in the same bed and... you started screaming on the top of your lungs about not meaning to break something, and you started to turn green. I woke you up quickly, but Joey took control.”

That’s a surprise.

“He asked me for a cigarette and told me it usually took the edge off when you had a nightmare that had your dad in it. He explained something that your brain tried to forget, and he told me how he was made from violence that your father had caused. So, when you came back to your body.... I just felt so helpless. You were so close to me and was able to help me whenever I had nightmares, but I couldn't do anything to help any of you.” Thor said, looking so sad. So helpless.

Bruce made a small whimper at the back of his throat. No, he hated when Thor looked like that. It made him want to yell at whoever caused it but Bruce can only yell at himself so much before Thor notices.

Thor looked at Bruce with his singularly beautiful blue eye full of such sadness and fondness. “Don't make that noise, you know that you didn’t like to open up and I was slightly clueless on how to help. My forms of helping would have been physical contact and that’s not the best course of action given your past. ”  

Bruce keened as he forced himself not to melt. “Honey-”

But Thor cut him off.

“So, when I we got back to earth and figured out how to integrate Asgard with Midgard successfully, I asked Tony if there was anything he would suggest and he suggested taking some courses on Psychology. And I took the advice. I applied for a university that was close and got a major in Psychology and worked when you had work, so you wouldn't realize that I was gone. Professor Flores is one of my teachers and helped me with some of the technically stuff. I sometimes go back to help Erin and her friends with their work to have some spare pocket money.”

Bruce felt his jaw drop. God, he loved this sappy, handsome, thoughtful god. Forget trying not to melt, Thor would have to clean him out of the couch since he had turned into Liquid Banner. Extra radiation.

He squeezed nine times. I love you, I love you, I love you. Bruce smiled at Thor with almost lovestruck awe. “.... what did I do to deserve you, you perfect alien god with a heart made of something clearly purer than love.”

Thor smiled and used his free hand to push a piece of hair out of Bruce’s face. He returned Bruce’s delicate and gentle kiss to his forehead, like he was some fairy princess giving a favor to a knight. “You were just as you always are; selfless, kind, charming, and world endingly handsome

He keened again and grabbed Thor’s face and planted a kiss firmly on Thor’s lips before going on to shower the rest of his face. “Jesus Christ, you are so-”  

Kiss. “Goddamn sappy-”  

Kiss. Firm kiss. Oh, French kiss? God damn Bruce loves Thor so much.  

He pulled away. “I love you so goddamn much”  

Thor looked at him, smiling like Bruce had given him a constellation, hung the moon, and had gotten him a horse. So goddamn sappy. “I love you as well.”

Bruce chuckled on his way to another kiss on that perfect face.

“Wait, I thought of something funny.” He giggled against Thor’s lips.

Thor’s eye came back from his lips, still half-lidded. His voice was quite low and deep when asked, “What is it?”

Bruce pulled away a couple of millimeters and grinned, “Isn't this a conflict of interests?”

Thor groaned but then chuckled. He looked at Bruce with the same adoring gaze. "Well I’m not a licensed psychologist and you’re not my client. So, short answer, no.”

Bruce giggled before closing the distance.  

“Thank god.” He whispered against Thor’s lips and didn’t speak for the rest of the night.

[notyourprettyboyxo]

Bonfire - 2

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Billy Hargrove

Warnings: referenced abuse, swearing, nsfw

Summary: It’s been five years since the events of season two. Steve has gone on with his life and he never expected to run into Billy Hargrove who has grown since that fateful night all those years ago.

Words: 1.7k

Read Part 1

Also on AO3

Let me know what you think!

Steve got home around four in the morning and tried to sleep again, he managed two hours before he was up again. The nightmare’s as raw as the day they’d begun, seeing Billy and with the upcoming anniversary of the incident didn’t help. He woke up instantly, rigid as a board and he had to work to unclench every muscle in his body. A headache had formed from clenching his teeth for the last two hours.  

Steve sighed and sat up, he ran a hand through his hair and looked at the clock. It was only six thirty in the morning. Fuck. He needed coffee if he was going to make it through the rest of the day on only four hours of sleep in total.

He filled his day with errands, getting groceries and cleaning. Something he’d been putting off for a couple weeks but he couldn’t help but hope that maybe he wouldn’t be coming back here alone and for that to happen, he needed a clean apartment.

Before he realized it, it was almost seven and he should have already been getting dressed. He was swearing as he dug through his closet for something to wear. Bet Billy wasn’t putting as much thought into this as he was. In the end, he put on a pair of tight-fitting black jeans that he knew made his ass look great and a dark red sweater. It was October after all.

He looked over his hair quickly, good enough. It was already 7:45 and it took at least a fifteen-minute walk to get to the bar. Quickly grabbing his coat he ran out the door.

He was late. Only five minutes but Steve had always prided himself on being on time. “Hi sorry I’m late. Lost track of time.” He sat heavily down across from Billy, shrugging out of his coat he sat back and looked at the man. He was dressed in a dark blue button down, only the top two buttons undone instead of the first five like in high school. The color made his blue eyes pop even more and Steve felt a pull in his lower abdomen. Fuck this man was attractive.

Billy smirked at him, “It’s fine. I got you a beer, but I can get you something else if you want.” he gestured to the bottle in front of Steve.

“A beer is great.” Steve gave him a small smile as he grabbed the drink. Something to wrap his hands around instead of fidgeting with them.

Billy ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat, “I…thanks for coming tonight. I wanted to apologize for what happened years ago.”

“Why now?” Steve asked leaning back, his eyes narrowing as he stared at him.

“I haven’t seen you for years….and I…started therapy to handle the anger,” he said the second part so quietly that Steve almost didn’t hear but his eyes widened on their own accord.

“My dad was a manipulative asshole who took his anger out me and after that night Max made me realize I was turning into him and with her help I was seeing someone without Neil knowing,” Billy said it all without taking a breath like it was hard for him to even get the words out and Steve wouldn’t have been surprised if it had been the hardest thing he’d done. Billy wasn’t known for being honest or even open but something about that night years ago made him realize that he was on the wrong path.

Steve didn’t know what to say to the admission but it seemed like BiIly wasn’t looking for anything as he continued, “So I just…wanted to say I’m sorry. My anger shouldn’t have been taken out on you and it was wrong of me.”  

Billy looked at him through those fucking long lashes of his and Steve’s breath was caught in his throat and all he wanted to do was kiss him. He had to push the feeling down and deal with the matter at hand, he found himself nodding, “I forgive you. It’s all in the past now. You seem like a different person than the Billy Hargrove I knew in high school.” Steve reached out and put a hand on top Billy’s, which was resting on the table. He wasn’t expecting the heat to rush through him at the touch of his skin and from the widening of Billy’s eyes, he’d felt it too.

Billy cleared his throat and Steve pulled his hand away, his mind reeling, “I’m trying to change.” Billy said quietly, his hand going to wrap around the beer bottle, a blush was creeping up his neck.

Steve gave him a small smile, “I can see that.”

Billy met his eyes and one side of his mouth was up in a smile, Billy Hargrove had changed. He’d never seen anything resembling an actual smile on the man’s face. Then Billy was asking him about school and life and one topic blended into another and without realizing it hours had gone by until Billy looked at his watch and swore.

“Fuck. I’m sorry I have to go, my shift starts in a half hour.” Billy stood quickly and Steve glanced at the clock it was 11:30. Where had the time gone?

“You’re working tonight?” Steve was able to keep most of the disappointment out of his voice but apparently, some got through.

Billy looked down at him, “Yeah…weekends the best pay.”

Steve nodded, made sense, it didn’t keep the disappointment away though, “You walking?” Steve asked, standing up beside Billy. He hadn’t realized he was so close and when Steve stood his chest brushed Billy’s and he saw the man swallow hard.

“It’s only a couple blocks away. I figured I would.” Billy shrugged not meeting Steve’s eyes.

“I’ll walk with you,” Steve said and followed Billy once he’d nodded his acceptance.

They walked together in silence for a while until Billy said, “So we just go back to not seeing each other after this?”

Steve didn’t say anything for a minute, he didn’t want that. He wanted to see Billy again, something about this new Billy made him want to explore and discover, he hadn’t felt that way since Nancy. “I hope not.”

Evidently, that wasn’t the answer that Billy was expecting as his head shot up and he stared at Steve in almost muted shock.

Steve almost laughed at the look on his face, “What?”

Billy looked away again and even in the dark Steve could see him getting red, “I didn’t…I didn’t think you liked…”

Ahh. That’s what this was about. Steve shrugged, “I like boys and I like girls.”

Billy linked his hands behind his head, “wasn’t expecting that. Part of me always thought you were queer Harrington.”

“You’re not entirely wrong,” Steve said, a crooked smile on his face.

Billy looked at him, studying him, “guess not Harrington.”

The bar was just around the corner and Steve was sad to see that the walk was shorter than he thought, he enjoyed his time with Billy. Something he’d never expected to say.

They were passing the alley when Steve found himself pulled to the side and pushed against the wall. Billy’s mouth was on his and Steve’s hands grasped at the man. Heat shot through Steve as he kissed Billy Hargrove, it was all tongue and teeth, nothing refined. Slopped and hot as hell. Steve’s arms grasped Billy’s shoulders and pulled, trying to get closer to him.

When they broke apart both were gasping. Billy’s pupils were blown wide with lust as he stared at Steve, his lips swollen. Billy leaned his forehead against Steve’s, the blue eyes filled Steve’s vision, “I’ve been wanting to do that since high school.” Billy whispered.

Steve’s eyes widened, since high school? That was… five years ago. “Not bad Hargrove.” he laughed as he brushed a finger across Billy’s cheek.

“Guess I should take you on an actual date hey?” Billy asked before kissing Steve slowly.

Pulling away Steve gave him a lazy grin, “Gotta wine and dine me before you can get in these pants.”

Billy’s eyes flicked down and he seemed to lick his lips unconsciously, “I think I can do that Harrington.”

“See to it you do.” Steve pushed away from the wall, missing the body heat of the other man instantly, and reached into his pocket and took out a notebook. He scribbled his number on a piece of paper before handing it to Billy, “here, call me and we’ll organize it.”

Smirking Billy took the paper and carefully folded it and put it in his pocket, “will do. I’ll see you soon Harrington.”

He gave Steve one final look that did things to his insides before leaving, he was almost to the corner when Steve found himself calling out, “Hey Hargrove!” Billy turned around, an eyebrow quirked, “call me Steve.” and Billy let out a loud laugh before nodding. He lifted his hand in farewell before turning the corner and disappearing.

With a sigh, Steve leaned back against the wall. A date? With Billy Hargrove? There was something about the man that made Steve want him more. More than just a casual fuck. He wanted to see what made him tick. He pushed off the wall and started his way home.

It wasn’t long before he was home, lying in his bed and dressed in only his boxers. His mind couldn’t help but drift to the events of earlier that night. The way his body had pressed against Steve’s made him want more. Steve reached down and pulled himself out of his underwear, letting out a sigh as he wrapped his hand around himself. He thought of Billy’s lips and what they’d look like wrapped around his cock, Billy on his knees pretty pink lips stretched as he took Steve to the hilt. Steve thrust into his hand, imagining he was fucking Billy’s face. HIs hand wrapped around the blonde boy’s curls as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge. Just the image of Billy on his knees for Steve was too much and Steve was arching his back and letting out a gasp as he came in his hand.

Fuck he hadn’t done that in a while.

Getting up he cleaned off his chest before laying down, maybe he’d be able to get some actual sleep tonight.

[araliyaintheskywithdiamonds]

I’d Kiss You With The Antidote - A CrissColfer Fic

I wrote this for a prompt asking for the aftermath of Confirmation Day and Darren’s performance of Teenage Dream in Toronto. 

Of course, since I can’t stay away from angst, get ready to read a fic that’s absolutely doused in it, but I promise there’s a happy ending. The title is my favorite lyric from Darren’s blatantly obvious CC song, “I Don’t Mind”.

Rated NC-17.

Warnings for mentions of Mia and the assistant, as well as issues with alcohol. 

Thank you my lovelies, I hope you enjoy! 

Read on AO3

A/N : I wrote this with Safe Inside by James Arthur on repeat, go listen along with it here. 

Chris had known even before he saw the video that something was wrong. Last night, he’d woken up  from a fitful sleep, sweaty and shaking, stomach clenching with a phantom ache. He’d shrugged it off, blaming the fact that he wasn’t sleeping with Darren’s comforting presence next to him, and tried to go back to sleep.

Now, as he watches his laptop screen, it’s not his stomach that clenches, it’s his heart. In the video, posted barely an hour after the event itself, Darren is hunched over the piano, the tendons in his neck prominent from the force he is putting into the song. His shoulders and thighs are tight and tensed and his expression masks nothing.

It’s breaking Chris’ heart.

He can’t bear to watch any more, to watch Darren pour his soul into their song with such sadness. He couldn’t manage last year, when Darren was performing it live for an episode of the show, and he can’t now. That song is meant to be tipsily strummed out on the burgundy couch in their living room or whispered in his ear in bed.

Not like this, not when Darren is so close to tears that the words break and his fingers slip on the keys.

Chris knew yesterday had been a bad idea, even though he and Alla had planned it perfectly, down to the last camera and clutch of fingers. His assistant had been perfectly cooperative as well, performing the charade with him with a knowing grin. Thousands of miles away, Darren had done his part too, ‘admitting’ that he was in a long-term relationship with a woman.

The two tasks were worlds apart. Chris only had to lie about who he was dating. Darren had to lie about part of his identity.

His hands fumble for his phone, mentally calculating the time in Toronto. It’s half past two in Paris, Darren should be awake by now, since he’s flying to Michigan later in the day.

The call is answered abruptly, and there is solid silence on the end of the line.

“Dare…?”

“Darren’s not here right now, Chris.”

He stiffens at the unwelcome sound of Darren’s manager’s voice on the end. 

“Where is he? Why do you have his phone?”

“He’s not in any capacity to answer the phone.”

Chris bristles with anger and disbelief as he hisses in reply, “Are you seriously trying to prevent him from speaking to his own boyfriend?”

He can almost hear the manager wince on the other end at the emphasis on his words. “He told me not to let him call anyone, especially you-”

A voice interrupts him, loud and raucous and unmistakably Darren.

“Is he drunk?”

The silence in response tells Chris everything he needs to know. “Give the phone to him. Now.”

There is a huff of resignation, a muttering of words and then suddenly Darren’s voice is on the line, familiar and comforting and home, even in its slurred state.

“Heyy, gorgeouss…”

Chris sighs, unable to stop the rush of solace that floods through his body even though he is monumentally worried. “Why are you drunk at eight ‘o'clock in the morning?”

“There was a party after the show last night? Actuallyy, it kinda started at like three in the morning, but I sstarted drinking reallyy late, but Canadians are soo nice and they kept giving me drinks-”

“You’ve got a show tonight,” Chris says softly.

“I’ll be hungover as fuck but it won’t be the first time,” Darren replies dismissively, and he can almost see him wave his hand as if he doesn’t have a care in the world, curls flopping haphazardly into his shining eyes.

Chris knows how Darren gets when he lets his thoughts run wild without anyone there for him- they fester and eat him from the inside. Darren has a penchant for drinking to forget, to escape from the gilded cage that his life has become. He’s spent countless nights after parties or events, peeling off Darren’s booze and sweat soaked clothes, coaxing Oolong tea down his throat to calm his churning stomach and curling around him protectively when the drunken laughter inevitably turns to tears.

But Chris also knows that Darren takes his performances more seriously than his life, living and breathing for the music and its audience. He wouldn’t risk tainting his show, doing only half as well over something as irresponsible as day drinking, unless it’s bad.

“Dare…”

“You’re disappointed, aren’t you?” Darren whispers, suddenly serious.

Chris blinks back tears that he hasn’t known have surfaced. “I’m just worried about you. Yesterday was-”

“Yesterday happened. It’s over. I’m fine.”

There is a sudden muffled smash of glass and Chris flinches reflexively. Someone yells in the background and the line crackles.

“I gotta go. Enjoy Paris, Chris.”

He opens his mouth to say goodbye but the call’s already been ended. He stares blankly at his lock screen, an image of Darren sprawled and sated on his bed staring back at him. It feels like it’s taunting him.

There’s nothing Chris can do but wait. Darren will be busy all day (if he’s not still drunk, that is), and Chris has a conference in the 1st Arrondissement. His fingers fidget for his phone all day, itching to contact him, but he doesn’t want to be clingy- he should let his boyfriend breathe. It’s the old insecurity creeping back, the fear that he’s not wanted, that he’s being a pain, that everyone’s lives would be better off without him. Darren is the first person who’s truly made him feel loved and needed, and maybe it’s selfish, but Chris can’t lose that.

It’s midnight when Darren finally texts him. Chris is sitting in his hotel room with Alla, sharing a box of pain au chocolat and bingeing on Queer As Folk when his phone vibrates on the comforter. It’s a one word question.

Baby?

Alla raises an eyebrow at him as he scrambles to reply, and he knows it’s disapproval he sees in her eyes when she catches a glimpse of the contact name.

“I’m sorry, I-” Chris gestures down to his phone. She nods in understanding and reaches over for another pastry before turning back to the TV screen.

What’s wrong? Are you okay?

We arrived at the venue an hour ago. Everything’s going fine.

That’s good.

Can I call you?

Of course.

Chris picks up on the first ring, and Darren’s tired voice fills his ear. “Chris… god, I’m so sorry about this morning. I was stupid, and irresponsible as hell, but I just wanted to- to-”

“To forget, I know.”

There’s a soft sigh, and then to Chris’ distress, a choked sob that’s hastily disguised as a cough.

“Dare? Sweetheart, talk to me,” he urges, shaking his head at Alla when she looks at him questioningly.

“I miss you,” comes the barely there reply.

“I miss you too,” Chris breathes.

“It’s just so hard. A-after yesterday everything kind of felt finalised- we’re going to be doing this everyday for god knows how long, being apart and not getting to see each other for months on end. What happens when the show ends? What happens when we don’t have that one thing tying us together?”

Chris brings his hand up to his chest, pressing down on his heart as if he can physically stop it from hurting. “Nothing’s going to change. We’ll still be us.”

“You can let me go if you want.”

The words are so quiet that Chris barely catches them, but he does and it hurts even more.

“Stop, Dare. We’re not going through all of this for nothing. As long as I get to be with you, to call you mine, I’ll go through anything. Please believe that.”

“Okay,” Darren whispers.

“And besides, isn’t this kind of like the movies? With the whole forbidden romance and the fake relationships? We’ve got a more dramatic love life than half the celebrities in hollywood.”

Darren laughs thickly. “I don’t want a dramatic love life, I just want you.” He pauses. “When are you back?”

“Three days after you are. And then we’ve got a week and a bit together before you go off again.”

“A week and a bit.”

“Yes. So hold on, okay?” Chris tries to sound strong, tries not to let his voice waver and betray himself.

“Okay.”

“Bye, darling. You’ve got a show to put on.”

“Bye, Angel.”

Chris’ fingers tremble as he ends the call. He looks up to see Alla staring at him, her head tipped in sympathy.

“I’m fine,” he mutters, before she can say anything, probably along the lines of ‘I told you so’. He reaches for his fourth pain au chocolat and prepares to wait out his insomnia.

Chris comes home to an empty house. The light on the landing is on, and Darren’s Italian loafers are strewn across the doormat, but the air is thick and heavy with silence. He lets himself hope that Darren’s in his bed when he goes upstairs (as he should be, it’s late), but that’s empty too. Someone’s definitely been sleeping there though. The sheets are unmade (“why make the bed if you’re just going to get back into it?”), and there’s a pair of glasses on the nightstand.

Chris settles on the couch instead, unable to sleep upstairs without Darren there with him, and he curls up with Cooper at his feet. He’s prepared to wait all night, armed with cinnamon roll pop tarts and Season 2 of Outlander, but he barely makes it to the second episode, sinking inevitably into a long awaited sleep.

A loud clatter startles Chris awake. Immediately he’s up off the couch, blinking at the time on the wall (03:28) before rushing out into the hallway. Darren stands there, one hand braced against the wall, the other clumsily pawing at his shoelaces. He doesn’t realize Chris is there until he quietly pads over to him, stilling Darren’s hand so that he can untie the simple knot.

His surprise should make Chris feel thrilled, and it almost does, until the expression is quickly replaced with one of guilt.

“Chhris?”

He’s drunk. Of course he is.

Chris remains silent, stoically moving to slip the other shoe off, reflexively catching Darren by the waist when he sways and stumbles (it shouldn’t be something that’s a reflex, it just shouldn’t). He’s got something spilled down his front, the same liquid clumping his hair together, and Chris wrinkles his nose at the sharp smell of it.

He somehow finds the words to speak, to say something that isn’t ‘Why are you doing this?’ or ‘Again, Dare? Again?’.

“Come on, sweetheart. Upstairs.”

Darren complies, determinedly placing one foot in front of the other as they climb the stairs to the bedroom, taking care not to stumble as if he is trying to prove to Chris that he’s not that far gone. Chris knows better, the glazed look clouding those hazel eyes is plenty a clue. When they finally reach the ensuite, Darren turns to him, placing both hands on his cheeks and leaning their foreheads together.

“You’rre early.”

“I wanted to surprise you. What’s one more day in Paris when it’s one more day away from you?”

Darren grins lopsidedly and leans in for a kiss, missing the target and hitting the corner of his mouth instead. Chris laughs in spite of himself, shoving at him light-heartedly. Suddenly Darren’s apparent quota for voluntary motor control seems to run out, and he sways precariously, clutching the edge of the sink before he can hit his head on the toilet bowl.

Immediately Chris’ worried self comes back, and he pushes Darren to lean against the sink, setting to work on the buttons of his shirt since he obviously won’t get anywhere with them himself. He wrinkles his nose at the red stickiness of his fingers as a result.

“Ugh, what did you get on here?”

Darren looks down in surprise, as if he hasn’t even realised anything was there. “Uh, I don’t... actually know. I kindd of just took whatever Mia got mme.”

Chris stiffens imperceptibly. “Mia.”

“It was Ricky’ss idea, and anyway, she’s alwayss been a good drrinking partner.”

Chris doesn’t even bother to hide his irritation any more, roughly shucking the shirt of Darren’s shoulders and kneeling to forcefully pull down his jeans and underwear in one go. He holds them down so that Darren can step out of them.

“Get in the shower.”

Darren does as he’s told, using his hands as leverage to step into the glass stall, not before slipping on the still-wet tiles. Chris is by his side in an instant, wrapping an arm around his waist to stop him from falling yet again.

“Dare!” He admonishes. “You literally almost cracked your skull against the taps.”

“Guess that just means you’ll have to get in here with mme,” Darren slurs, waggling his eyebrows.

Chris rolls his eyes before peeling off his own aeroplane-stale clothes. He tries to blink away a memory that surfaces at the action. It’s of him stripping off Darren’s vomit stained garments after a particularly bad night, hauling them both into the half-full bathtub, and holding Darren until he fell asleep in his arms. They woke up the morning after with all the water drained out and bruised all over from the hard porcelain of the tub.

He can tell Darren remembers it too, or what little of it Chris told him the day after, and he reaches out to smooth Chris’ tense brow.

“I’m so sorry, Angel.”

Chris doesn’t reply, instead leaning around him to turn the tap on. Darren doesn’t even jump at the sudden rush of water, ice cold before it starts to warm up.

“Come here.” He maneuvers Darren in front of him, using his height to easily run his hands through his hair. The water runs pink on the tiles as he painstakingly rinses the red clumps out of Darren’s curls. Chris hooks an arm around his torso to stop him from falling and their bodies slot together like puzzle pieces. Torso to torso, connected from shoulder to ankle, it’s like an equilibrium Chris never knew he needed.

He blinks away the tears before they even surface but Darren’s worried hands are on his face in an instant, eyes wide and worried. Chris smiles thickly at how quickly Darren knew he was hurting, but he shouldn’t be surprised- the man could empathise with an inanimate object.

“I’m fine,” he whispers, when he meets Darren’s questioning gaze.

“You’re not. Please don’t pretend like nothing’s wrong. You- you shouldn’t have to take care of me like this, like I’m some sort of burden. You don’t deserve it.”

Chris shushes him with a finger on his lips. He has to be strong for the both of them, hold Darren up when he can’t do it on his own, just like he’s done for Chris time and time again.

“You’ll never be a burden to me, Dare.” He traces an eyebrow, a warm feeling settling in his stomach when Darren immediately leans into his touch, nosing at the palm of his hand.

“Sometimes I think that I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you,” Chris continues. This isn’t just for Darren, he needs to hear himself say it as well. “When I can’t get to sleep, or can’t seem to find my breath, I think about you, and you ground me. Knowing that I have you makes everything- all the lies, all the heartbreak, all the stress and pain- it’s all worthwhile. I’d give anything a thousand times over if it’s you I get to keep.”

It’s truly the best Chris can do in return, because Darren’s heart isn't just on his sleeve, it's resting right there exposed on his outstretched palm- giving, giving, giving and never expecting anything back. He was the last thing Chris ever expected and is now the only thing he needs to survive.

The lump in his throat threatens to rise even further, so he pushes it down by surging forward to kiss Darren. The rush of water from the shower and Chris’ words seem to have sobered him up a little, and his lips respond enthusiastically, tender instead of sloppy.

Chris’ mouth parts instinctively as Darren probes further, tongues slotting together with ease as he pushes Darren against the steamed glass. The sudden need for him is overwhelming and almost makes Chris’ head spin with the intensity of it. Darren gasps against his lips and there’s a rush of heat downwards, leaving him hardening against his thigh. Chris knows that Darren has noticed, if the kisses becoming more desperate are telling him anything, and he breaks away to pant brokenly,

“Please tell me you’ve sobered up?”

Darren grins, tracing circles on Chris’ shoulder. “I can recite the alphabet backwards, if you’d like.”

“You were tripping over your own feet not ten minutes ago.”

Darren tips his forehead forwards to rest against Chris’. “Yeah, ten minutes ago. I think you kissed all the alcohol right out of me.”

“That’s not possible,” Chris argues, somewhat feebly. “No one has that fast of a recovery period.”

“I spent a lot of years as a teenager mastering the art of sobering up.” Darren kisses him, once, twice, three times, each one scorching enough to send his heartbeat into a frenzy and his dick twitch against his thigh. “Now, are we going to fuck, or not?”

Chris reaches up to the ledge next to the taps, where there’s a bottle of (shower specific, silicon-based- they’re prepared, alright?) lube stashed among the shampoos and conditioners. It’s only once he’s got one of Darren’s legs hooked around his waist and two fingers inside of him is he laughing helplessly into Darren’s shoulder.  

“How did we get from practically crying to fucking in less than three minutes?”

Darren snorts and rolls his eyes as best as he can with someone’s hand between his legs. “When are we not fucking, Colfer- ah!”

Chris adds a third finger without warning, crooking them so that they’re brushing up against the bundle of nerves that has Darren whining helplessly, nails digging into the skin of his back. The head of his cock shines wetly, caught up between their torsos, and it makes Chris’ mouth water.

He drops down to his knees, keeping his fingers still in Darren’s body while he noses at the base of his cock. The skin here is softer than the skin on any other part of Darren’s body and smells intoxicatingly of him as well. Chris laves the shaft with tiny licks, working his way upwards until he’s got the tip of it in his mouth, tongue tracing the ridge. Darren jerks and his hands scrabble for purchase, one threading through Chris’ hair and the other slamming against the glass partition, the sound of it reverberating through the shower.

“Jesus Christ, baby, I won’t be able to- ah- last...!” Darren grits out, and Chris gives him one last suckle before getting back off his knees, taking his hand with him. The emptiness leaves Darren clenching around nothing, and Chris aches.

“In me- in me now, Chris,” Darren babbles, hooking his arms around Chris’ neck as he slowly maneuvers his slicked-up cock into Darren. The tight ring of muscle gives after a little resistance and they both release long breaths as Chris bottoms out. The thick heat of him is sudden and overwhelming, and Chris’ knees almost buckle with the intensity of having Darren surround him like this.

He takes a moment to let Darren adjust to the inevitable burn and stretch, and then hikes up his legs around Chris’ waist so that he’s pressed up against the tiles, steam from the shower rising around them. Slowly, slowly, Christ begins to thrust, savouring the almost pornographic slap of Darren’s body hitting the wall as they move together. Pleasure spikes up his spine and and he can’t tell if the rivulets running down his forehead are sweat or water.

Darren’s head falls back against the tile and a flush spreads down his chest, letting out a gasping uh uh uh as he squeezes his eyes shut and lets Chris take him. He’s only ever quiet during sex when it’s like this- sweet and slow with Chris leading and taking care of him.

Darren hooks his ankles tighter as Chris increases his pace, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses against his neck as he angles his hips in a direction in which he knows will hit Darren’s sweet spot perfectly. It’s sweaty and wet and messy and perfect and Chris’ thrusts grown more stilted and frantic the closer he gets. He drops one of Darren’s knees in favor of reaching down to grip his cock, which is pressed up between them and smearing their stomachs with precome.

Darren bites his lip so hard that it draws blood, and Chris leans his forehead against his shoulder as the familiar coil of heat tightens in his stomach.

“Let go, sweetheart,” he pants, twisting his hand and stroking once, twice, before Darren comes with a cry, in thick ropes between them.

It’s enough to send Chris over the edge, releasing hot and hard into Darren, and the overpowering spark of pleasure that floods through his body really does make his knees give way this time. They slide to the floor in a messy heap, delirious and loose limbed, Chris’ body curled around Darren’s as they try to catch their breath. The water’s now tepid, and it falls around them like rain, the rhythm of it against the tiles beating in time along with their hearts.

Darren’s laugh suddenly echoes through the shower and Chris looks up blearily from where he’s buried his face in Darren’s hair.

“Thank god for your biceps,” he says in explanation, and Chris groans, seeking out wet black curls again.

“You should be thanking me, I’m the one who did all the hard work.”

Darren laughs again, running his fingers up Chris’ spine to tangle at the base of his neck. A tender kiss presses against his forehead, warming him down to his toes.

“You’re the best gift life ever gave me,” Darren whispers, and Chris just smiles.

[wistfuldragon]

Coming Out, Sort Of

I came out as bisexual this year, sort of. And it’s both a big deal and not a big deal at all. I say I “sort of” came out because a few people knew - my husband, surely all of my sisters (sibling gossip travels fast), and a few friends. But I never talked about it with anybody except my spouse and, occasionally, friends. I wasn’t sure what to say, or how to say it, or even if it mattered at all. I still feel like I’m sitting on an iceberg floating aimlessly around the ocean asking the water, “Is this okay? How about this? Am I allowed to feel these things or say these things? Does it matter?”

Almost twenty years ago I got my first big, obvious crush on a girl in college. It hit me like a sack of bricks. I didn’t understand. And - please forgive me for sounding so unbelievably naive - I wondered if was I a lesbian now? Except I still was attracted to guys. Was I straight but confused? Or a lesbian but confused? Did I need to “pick a side”? Was it a phase? What was this “bisexual” thing and why were a lot of people saying it didn’t exist or it was offensive? I stayed up late in the computer room reading scathing internet blog posts talking about college girls “experimenting” or articles about how bisexual people gave real gay people a bad name and conversion therapy proponents more fodder. (It’s important to note that I was a social idiot and never talked to anyone online or in person to get other perspectives. Give me a choice between believing the worst thing and the best and guess which one I’m likely to choose. It’s like a bad romantic comedy where you’re screaming at the screen, just TALK about it goddamnit.)

The girl I liked was straight, dating a long term boyfriend, and - oh yeah - she was my college roommate and friend of several years. That didn’t make life incredibly awkward or frustrating at all. I’m pretty sure I was an asshole for a while.

I also thought about my conservative family - and whether I would even be allowed to bring a girl home for holidays. Maybe, I decided. Probably? Still, the history wasn’t great. When I was about 8 or 9 I remember one of my sisters telling me that queer was a bad word - not precisely because it was a slur but because it meant gay and being gay was bad. She was trying to protect me, I think. She didn’t want me to get bullied over it. I lived in a lot of homophobic places growing up, though maybe that was everywhere at the time. Even though I eventually realized that being gay was normal and natural, I clearly didn’t internalize it enough. In the end, mired in cowardice and doubt, I squashed it all down and locked it in a room. All of it. I had school to focus on, good friends, zero romantic game anyway. I’d never actually dated anybody at all. Maybe it was just a phase. Maybe I was just confused. I’d ignore it and think about it later. That’s how I was raised to deal with problems, after all, and it felt like a problem I wasn’t ready to tackle.

I met my husband at a party on my first night in the dorms, had an unrequited (but secretly requited - it’s a long story) crush, and then we became friends, but we didn’t start dating until a few years later. We had a solid friendship underpinning our relationship. It was a good thing. But my sexuality continued to sit in a locked room in the back of my mind. One night about a year after we started dating we went to an LGBTQ (as it was labeled at the time) awareness event. It was a maze of exhibits highlighting love and hate. And though I considered myself an ally and not unschooled in the level of horror in the world, there was something about that evening that broke me apart. I didn’t fully realize it until the small tour group gathered in a room at the end of the exhibit to talk about the displays and why it was important to be a good ally. The facilitator went around the room asking people what they learned. I tried not to cry as people went around the room blithely talking about things they’d taken away from the exhibits. I tried deep breathing. I dug my nails into my palms. And when they got to me, I realized I should have just gotten up and left because I burst into tears. Actually, I started sobbing. And I couldn’t stop. I sobbed through the rest of the (much more rushed) follow-up interviews. I sobbed as we gathered coats in the lobby. I sobbed as we walked out to my boyfriend’s car. We sat there for a while as I struggled to get my emotions under control. And then we started to talk about it.

We talked about a lot of stuff and he asked without a hint of judgment whether maybe I could be bisexual. And something within me cracked open. I apologize for the analogy I’m about to use, but you know that scene in Goonies where they have to play notes on an organ to open the bridge? This was a correct organ note and the closed door I’d built opened a little bit. I felt freer to just have one person I cared about act like A) it was real and B) it was fine. So I started thinking about it again.

The door still wasn’t open all the way, though. Soon after that I mentioned to one of my sisters that I thought I was bisexual. She said absolutely nothing about it, neither in condemnation nor support. (And, okay, I’m fucking terrible at talking about feelings. I had slipped this into a text message conversation about something else entirely because I am an utter coward.) So, in typical fashion for me, I read the worst into our lack of communication. I decided that she probably said nothing because the internet articles were right, and it either wasn’t a big deal or it was offensive of me - a woman dating a man - to put myself forward as bisexual. Did I ask her about it again? No, because I’m an idiot.

And besides, a voice in the back of my head whispered, what if it really was just a phase?

So I waited. I fell in love and got married. I opened the door sometimes to peek inside. “Still attracted to women, too? Okay, just checking.” (Door click.) I did this for a while before I felt confident in saying, like a grand pronouncement, “I am bisexual.” Only I didn’t pronounce a damn thing, not to anyone else.

There were a couple of reasons, at this point. For one, it had been SO GODDAMN long since I first realized it and accepted it fully. Like, would I have to explain to people, “Heh, yeah good friend, sorry I should have said this years ago but, you know, I’m an emotionally repressed human being.” I actually sat around trying to imagine the conversations but always managed to come up with an excuse not to talk about it. I remember sitting on a friend’s couch one day with this new/old news balanced on the tip of my tongue. But I decided, at the time, that coming out was something people did when they needed support for a relationship. In the end, I was married to a man. I didn’t need anybody’s acceptance of my relationship. I was in the safest possible position - married for years to the opposite sex. In the eyes of the world, I might as well be straight - anything else be damned. What did it matter?

Plus, I was ashamed at how fucking long it took me to accept that I was bisexual. I tried for years to be a good ally, but it turned out I was a shitty ally when it came to myself. The shame I feel that my first response was fear will stay with me the rest of my life. I felt that I didn’t deserve to talk about my feelings. I didn’t deserve anybody’s messages of support.

And then 2016 rolled around and Trump/Pence got elected. I was commuting to work with my small daughter a few days later, still burning with rage and shock. I looked at my daughter and several great, thunderous organ notes sounded and the door opened so much wider. What kind of world will we leave for her? What kind of world is it now where someone with such a transparently hateful platform could be elected to such a high office? And I realized that I think every voice is important. I felt culpable, in my silence. Growing up, if I had known just one person who had openly said, “Hey, I’m bisexual,” I truly think I would have realized this about myself sooner. It could have spared me years of wondering. It might have spared me all this shame I feel now that I ever felt ashamed about my sexuality. Basically, I looked at my daughter as we waited for the traffic light to change and desperately wanted a better world for her. And I realized I had to start with myself.

Fandom gets a lot of flack for being a toxic place. But in the fandoms I was participating in I saw people posting about coming out on social media and I thought…yeah, I should do that. Like, it’s literally the least I could do. But it’s something. I worked my way up to it, still more than half convinced that my voice didn’t matter. Instead, I started by telling a total stranger online that I was bisexual - in a conversation related to a fictional character possibly being bisexual. I couched it in apologies about being married to a man for so many years and was told quite clearly and politely, that I had every right to talk about being bisexual - it didn’t matter who I was married to. BONG. Another organ note. The door opened further. (And, me being me, of course I cried at even the merest scrap of validation.)

So I posted something small on Facebook and Twitter, terrifically nervous about the reactions of family and friends. What kind of backlash would I get? Was it just way too weird to post this now after so many years? It turned out that all my fears of being called fake or confused or not important or a fucking coward were unfounded. Several family members and friends were supportive. At the time of that post I tried to brush it off as not really coming out. After all, “coming out” sounds so dramatic. I talked briefly about the experience it in an online chat and then felt deeply embarrassed that it had taken me so very many years to do even this one tiny thing. But, yeah. I was pretty much coming out.

Being more open is still a work in progress, I guess. My parents and I are strictly on a don’t-ask-don’t-tell plan. I don’t ask them how they feel and they don’t tell me. They didn’t “like” any of my Facebook pride posts, anyway. Yeah. Communication is…not our strong suit. I fully realize this, but I’m scared to ask them and hear something I don’t like. God, even in my upper thirties and mostly really happy with my life I’m scared of that. I find that I care and don’t care at the same time. It’s always disheartening to realize that you’re still kind of chickenshit. I’ll give them some time to process it and maybe next year I’ll work up the ovaries to talk to them about it.

Shame at my past doubts, ever-present weaknesses, and my own intrinsically awkward nature mean that I’m still bumbling around on my little iceberg asking the ocean if I’m being offensive, or overstepping, or if my voice even matters. But I will strive to be better. For my daughter, and maybe even for other people, I want to be a better advocate. And I really, really needed to start with myself this time. Our experiences constantly shape and reshape our lives and I’ll do my best to be a better, more open and self-accepting person. Maybe someday I’ll even forgive myself and shed past regrets.

So it is and it isn’t a big deal. It’s changed my life and it hasn’t changed it at all. But I’m going to keep trying to be a better person for myself and also for my daughter who might someday try to sort out her own sexuality. I’ll be able to be there saying, “I’m bisexual and proud of it and I love and accept you no matter how you identify or who you love.” That’s far more than I ever had, and I think it’s a good start. This is the first year I’ve done any kind of personal acknowledgment or celebration of pride month, and it feels really good.

[ofcloudsandstars]

Spring equinox week has been intense so far omg I haven't even wrote fully wrote what happened to me at the ball ohhhhmygodddd Sunday- The eve was incredible. In the afternoon I went with my father to the supermarket to pick up more food ingredients for my party that I couldn't find at the farmers market. We got snap peas, broccoli sprouts, full, lemon hummus etc. since my contributions are going to be spring veggie heavy one of my friends who's providing the space is making a meaty quiche and another colorful tea eggs so there will be a balance. That evening I went to another witchy friends event (who cohosts the witchy church) that was a community dinner and it was a great way to start the night to meet many different people of her local community, get very drunk on beer and meet a few other witches. We spoke about mead making plans and she's inviting me to a mead bar after her ostara celebration this Sunday! The ball was beyond what I was expecting. I did think it was more for practicing witches yet it was more like an over the top flamboyant LGBT party with the theme of wizards which honestly in my opinion made it no less magical. I met a handful of new people who were so creative and didn't know shit about astrology, equinox or anything but when I spoke to them in detail they understood cause they are pretty untuned with themselves. I tend to find a lot of queer people are a bit more spiritual but that might be because they're already on a journey of being true to themselves and bettering themselves and trying to find answers beyond institutions that demonize them. But anyway the costumes were over the top, the cakes were like flowing rivers of color, so many people were dressed with horns which I loved cause it was the beginning of aries season. So much red!! So much sexual energy (you guys could probably tell from my videos). There were sequined outfits, glitter, unicorn horns, majestic drag sorceresses, pentagram fishnets, ribbon dancing trans mermaids, butterfly capes, crazy wigs, neon sigil art and persephone burlesque. I met a man there who like perfectly embodied the spirit of aries that had a costume of gold armor and a helmet that only covered his nose and brow and his curly dark hair tumbled over it. Then he had two long curled horns coming from either side and dark smokey eye make up. He had a very fit body like toned and his style was kind of Greek god. He was so flamboyant and kissing the men he introduced to me but was saying how he was very straight (my mind was like: there's no heterosexual explanation for this) so anyway I met a bisexual man who had the right amount of femme traits and masculine balance and they are like fucking unicorns honestly. I wonder if his qualities came out cause he was very drunk and in an LGBT space cause often men like that 'pick a side' in order to not get castrated by society. I was loving how flamboyant he was, smoking his long cloves like a 1920s ritzy gal with a long cigarette while shooting me sultry looks with his smokey eyes. We spoke a bunch about spiritual practices and what we wanted to grow from this spring. He was very interested in paganism and my practice but he was also very interested in me in my silver dress haha I'm kind of sad I couldn't go further with him cause my uterus is being gross and I also promised to hang out with my best witchy friend who came late and we danced later on the floor together. But he had a good intense sexual energy that I kind of needed in my life and I'm lowkey wondering if I attracted him cause I was fooling around with the orange flowers on my altar and thinking about a guy that fits that description (to a ducking T now that I'm recalling it 😧) maybe I need to do a real focused sex spell when I'm ready. It was another round of fun once my best witchy friend came. We danced, drank more and some older lady approached her to talk about me?? She really liked me for some reason but would only tell my friend about it. So I had to ask her after and she said this woman thought I would be best working in a humanitarian job like healing or the Red Cross was what she thought though I would never work for them lol. It was a weird occurrence though that woman seemed sweet it was just bizarre to have a stylish crone approach my friend on the dance floor to say some cryptic shit then leave but I guess that's just what happens in a wizard discotheque. After we left I filled her in with the rest of the party. Two blocks down most strangely in the snow was a FULL pack of coronas!! And we were like wtf!! Like just there mounted on a pile. Forgotten. In the middle of Brooklyn. Girl of course we took it and drank them on the short walk to her place and took it as a good sign haha. Monday- The day of the equinox was nice but not fully how I wanted to spend it. The morning was great. We got up and went to get groceries. I got this amazing fiery fresh squeezed fruit juice (I took pictures of) and she got ingredients to make pancakes. She made lemon ricotta pancakes with freshly whipped cream as we watched Buffy. We later did tarot for spring and I listened to her new music tracks (she's in a band). We spent time outside in the park which was gorgeous and we took her cute doggo out then after I realized it was getting late we went to the city to pick up the last stuff for the equinox party then split ways. I charged my ingredients to make magical tools with later for my ostara ritual but I was too tired to assemble them once I got home. Yesterday was just busy. I had therapy and work. After my tarot exercise I realize there's some growth I have to do and anxiety I have to grow past like a sprouted plant cracking through some asphalt. After was work which I was blessed to get tons of left over vegetables like fennel and fancy lettuce I can serve with the dill and lemon hummus for the party. Today I'm baking and making treats while finishing my game, the tools, ritual, treats and everything for my party tomorrow. I'm also going to try and do my hair. I'm glad I don't need to do too much cooking cause a lot of the stuff are light vegetables so I'm not so overwhelmed for once!! Anyway this spring week so far has been crazy and symbolic and it's only half way done! Will probably add on to this once Saturday arrives!

[polyamorous-mysme]

this is weeks late, unrequested, and it has an #agenda but here’s some feminist rfa headcanons for you All With Jaehee And Most With MC (several poly ships but u can apply most hcs to most ships) because a nazi got beat in the face and im living and also: i love girls i literally love girls so much

all of these r as though MC is female/female-leaning but if anyone has male/male-leaning/agender/etc feminist MC headcanons you can Send Those The McFuck In

this is also super gay and trans because all ur faves r gay and/or trans

707 x MC x Jaehee

jaehee and MC literally gearing up to go to marches/rallies/protests and seven gushing because he loves how strong his partners are 

he can’t technically go to many because the agency but he calls and texts to check in and is constantly looking through security cameras just to make sure they’re safe

comes up with great gay slogans

jaehee and MC making sure to especially advocate for their gnc boyfriend because inclusion is the only option

jaehee and MC being the Best Girl Duo and an even better Interracial Gay Couple who do not deal with white feminist nonsense

jaehee and MC kicking people out of the coffee shop for microaggressions or giving them lukewarm coffee/stale food

jaehee wearing subtle lesbian/bi pride colors every day and ESPECIALLY around valentine’s day

seven has so many pictures of his partners even if he doesn’t like to be in many himself but he just super loves them??? he’s so proud of everything they stand for and is so happy to support them even when he worries about their safety

seven sending Wholesome Memes all the time 

Jaehee x MC x Zen

zen using his platform to make his opinions known even when jaehee tells him to be careful but No My Girlfriends Are The Most Important Thing To Me And Their Lives And Safety Matter Just Like Everyone Else’s

zen literally refusing to work with people when they make disgusting comments

zen having a blocklist longer than mine bc people tweet him lesbophobic bullshit

jaehee and/or MC getting followed on their way home for work and zen literally making sure to come pick them up every day afterwards

zen also saying occasionally :/ shit but like. genuinely willing to listen esp if it’s from MC or jaehee

jaehee and MC going to events with zen wearing openly feminist attire. jaehee refuses to wear suits ever again but her dresses are always related to current issues, or she’ll talk about them openly and unapologetically. 

zen speaking out against poor casting choices. disabled characters go to disabled actors! queer characters go to queer actors! 

zen actually realizing the homophobic/transphobic things he says in chat nonchalantly are bad and like. actually apologizes and is understanding when he gets called the FUCK out

jaehee and MC gaining a small following of their own for their #iconic gay posts on social media sites

feminist movie nights all the time i love it

Jaehee x MC x Yoosung

yoosung taking classes explicitly abt women’s struggles and other oppressive histories

yoosung sheepishly asking jaehee and MC if they wanna go to a protest/vigil/etc on campus like. the day before because he’s been too shy to ask bc he didn’t know if it was his place 

yoosung exploring his own status as someone who might be gnc/not het and jaehee and MC encouraging him to explore it

the first time he goes to class in a skirt or a dress or literally anything not “masculine” and coming home so happy 

jaehee and MC doing their makeup before work and yoosung asking if they’d do his a bit (not too much yet)

jaehee and yoosung both growing their hair out a bit more

shared hairclips all around the house

jaehee and MC coming home angry as hell because fetishizing customers and yoosung patiently listening with wide eyes and getting teary-eyed because his girlfriends are so upset

they/them yoosung

xe/xem yoosung

he/him yoosung who’s still a Boy but is much more aware of and concrete in his masculinity

yoosung’s mum knitting matching “girlfriend” sweaters for the whole bunch

Jumin x MC x Jaehee

jumin listening to jaehee and MC’s discussions about misogyny and homophobia (esp lesbo/biphobia) and sexual violence patiently and not quite Getting It at first

jumin realizing he’s fucked up when jaehee gets so upset to the point of almost leaving a few times

jaehee and MC using their coffee shop as an abuse/lgbt/etc safe place and jumin providing the funds to make it safer

jumin and jaehee researching the best organizations and shelters for women, abuse victims, homeless, mentally ill, lgbt+ community members, etc. and donating All The Time

jumin tightening anti-harassment in the workplace esp after jaehee goes into long rants about some of the shit she had to deal with while working for him

MC and jaehee passive-aggressively holding hands/kissing/basically displaying as much PDA as possible that time jumin made a comment about gay pda/pda in general without actually thinking about what the fuck he was saying

jumin getting in an actual argument with his father when he makes some gross fetishistic comment about how jumin has “every man’s fantasy” or some bullshit

jaehee and MC holding hands and walking through the c&r building to spend lunch with jumin and jaehee giving Looks to her old coworkers 

bonus appreciation for jaehee: she’s a grown ass woman who literally questions her entire life and identity and especially sexuality bc she met a Girl and she’s like? wow i might be gay. wow. i love jaehee and i love girls and i especially love girls who love girls ha ha but i guess you could say im a bit . . . biased 

[icefireeclipse]

Ice’s Annual Post for 2018

So here is my annual post of everything that I did over the course of 2018. Now one major change in this post from last year and the year before is that, I only updated this post at the end of the month instead of gradually as these events occurred. Which means that some events that may have happened at the end of the month are among the first on the list, so basically it’s all scrambled.

 Now I know with certainty that each of these events happened in the corresponding month, as I otherwise didn’t even post it so I believe for next year (if I’m still on Tumblr) I won’t do that again and go back to updating these in chronological order.

Without further ado, here’s the list! 

January:

Purchased a few games on Steam for the Winter Sale

Played through Season 8 of Overwatch

Signed up for a Payment plan for my college

Watched Moana for the 1st time

Ordered a tax return transcript with my dad’s help

Played Go fish with Uno Cards for the 1st time

Tried homemade coleslaw for the 1st time

Started University at a 4 year college for the 1st time

Got my Certificate from my tech college in the mail

My sister got a new car: A 2006 Volkswagen Beetle/bug? idk

I renewed my driver’s license

I now have a regular license instead of a probationary one

Got my liquor licence for my job 

Got a car wash for the 1st time this year

I got a new purse and knee length boots as an early birthday present

February

Had really bad insomnia on the morning of my birthday

Officially end my teenage years

Got a fuck ton of gift cards on my birthday!

Joined my 1st club at campus

Played What do you Meme for the 1st time

Found out that I’m suffering from chronic stress

Went to IT on campus and finally got access to the computers there

Had my history class cancel twice in two weeks

FINALLY WENT TO THE DOCTOR FOR MY HANDS THANK GOD!

Got diagnosed with eczema and got cream for it

Watched some of the Winter Olympics

Hands are finally improving after 11 months of dry bleeding hands

Started watching Yugioh for the 1st time

Downloaded Yugioh Duel Links on my phone

Began sinking into Yugioh hell

Played Scribblenauts for the 1st time (check name later)

Went to a Study Abroad fair on Campus

Went to Olive Garden for a late birthday dinner

Tried Calamari for the 1st time

Discovered that I may be able to drop out of my math class

Wrote a poem for the 1st time in a long time

Changed my phone homescreen

Made some homemade essential oils for the 1st time

March

Watched the live action Fullmetal Alchemist movie

Found out my dad got a Sheltie puppy for his birthday

Dropped out of remedial math after passing the placement exam

Met with my advisor for Fall Semester classes

Got free pizza from some business at work kinda randomly

Played and beat Life is Strange Before the Storm

Stressed about Midterms

Watched Black Panther in theaters 

Took the midterms for the 1st time since AP Bio in high school

Spent most of my Spring Break working

Bought a Sudoku book for myself just because

Used my job’s carwash for the 1st time

Got an Ultimate Car wash for the 1st time

Played Brigitte on Overwatch for the 1st time

Played The Moon Sliver for the 1st time

April

Got some candy for Easter/April Fool’s Day

Played through Season 9 of Overwatch Comp

Watched Spiderman: Homecoming

Bought a faux leather body con dress for the 1st time

Bought makeup for the 1st time

Finally got to go to prom: Queer Prom! 

Finally got the chance to wear my prom dress

Attempted to play Rise of the Tomb Raider...my computer can’t run it without horrible frame drops....

Started playing Dragon Age Origins: Ultimate Edition

Got Yugioh Duel Links on Steam

Got the okay to to buy a Playstation 4 after the semester is over

Worked with two minors in a row at my job

Had to go to work and prom in a fucking blizzard in the middle of April...

My gas station closed the north station for the first time since I worked there due to said blizzard

Watched the 636th episode of The Simpsons

Wore lipstick in public for the 1st time

Played through the first few minutes of Realmyst: Masterpiece Edition

Started hearing wedding plans for my dad and stepmom

My dad got surgery for his hernia, was successful

May

Went to see Infinity War in Theaters

Was elected into council for the LGBT+ club I’m in on campus

Saw the new Steven Universe episodes

Bought Tongue in Cheek, I suppose is my 1st NSFW purchase ever

Also bought pasties for the first time

Worried about finals and took my finals 

Passed all of my finals (A, A- and a B+ to be exact)

Started my Interim course about Modern American history

Got straight A’s in the 2 exams for that class that were in May

Purchased a Playstation 4 Slim and 4 PS4 games

Car battery died on campus so I was stranded there for 2 hours

Got my haircut at a salon for the 1st time in a long while

Bought a funeral dress and attended a funeral for my mom’s boyfriend’s mother

Someone left an old box TV at the car wash at work. That was interesting

My sister fainted at a baseball stadium while singing the national anthem and had to be hospitalized for dehydration, she later was released a few hours later 

Went to that same sister’s high school’s graduation a few days later

Went to see Deadpool 2 in Theaters

Returned the 1st set of my textbooks that I rented 

Found out what role I’m going to have in my father’s wedding

June

Kinda forgot about June oh shit

Took my last exam of my spring semester

Passed with straight A’s in my Interim class

Rewarded myself by hooking up my brand new Playstation 4

Finally got to play Until Dawn, ended up killing Emily and Sam 

Started playing Rise of the Tomb Raider on PS4

Played Overwatch on PS4 for the 1st time

Got invited and later attended grad party for friend from high school

Spent most of June either playing PS4 or going to work

Started working on weekdays again for the 1st time since January

Introduced Steven Universe to my step-siblings, currently watching Season 1

Made dinner for my step-family for the 1st time, a chicken alfredo recipe from Tasty

Bought fireworks for the 1st time by myself

My mom’s boyfriend got a new puppy, Bella, without telling anyone

Played Gone Home on PC for the 1st time

Bought about 70 dollars worth of games during Steam’s Summer sale

Also bought a few games on PS4 during E3 sale

Watched Below her Mouth for the 1st time

Saw Deadpool 2 again, this time with my mom who wanted to see it

May or may not have started writing fanfiction again during this month

July

Ordered my textbooks

Started reading the Umineko no Naku Koro ni Question Arcs

Finished the 1st Question Arc and started the 2nd one

My dad’s dog got fixed in late July, went perfectly

Dentist appointment at end of the month

9 minutes late to work due to traffic

Went up north for a weekend

WENT TUBING FOR THE 1ST TIME IN 6 YEARS THIS IS A BIG DEAL! (am afraid of tubing on the water due to childhood trauma so this was huge for me)

Got to see my dog go swimming, she’s so good on the boat!

Watched the Steven Universe Heart of the Crystal Gems Bomb OMG

Saw White Diamond’s reveal

Commuted to Kitsune Kon 2018

Bought a whole bunch of posters

Finally bought a copy of Death Note Mafia after 5+ years

Went to the Ramen eating contest there

Bought a whole bunch of food for my step-siblings

August

Not much happened in August tbh

Finished the Umineko 2nd Question Arc

Went to work....uh yeah

My cat had a bladder infection and I thought he was going to die...scariest 4 days of the year

He recovered thank goodness

Went school supply shopping

Got a new backpack for the 1st time since junior year of high school

Received my new textbooks for the semester

Tried Chocolate Molten Lava and Pumpkin Spice lattes from Starbucks for the 1st time

Met with the council members of the LGBT+ club I’m in for the 1st time

Played through Undertale’s Neutral and True Pacifist Routes

Got an account on Chess.com for some reason

Went to see The Meg in theatres, loved it!

September

Went back to college/classes

Tried aligot for the first time

Also tried artichoke hearts for the 1st time

Got a tattoo appointment

Got my very first tattoo (to cover up a scar wound)

Had to wear a bandage on my left hand for 5 days due to said tattoo

Visited my campus’s LGBT Resource center for the 1st time

Started browsing for next semester’s classes

Started learning Japanese in an actual classroom for a change

I went from knowing zero hiragana/katakana to memorizing all hiragana and some katakana in one month!

Taking math hopefully for the last time

Got back into playing Rise of the Tomb Raider since July

October

Midterms in October....

Got a C+ on my math class but since I suck at math that’s okay with me

Everything else got A’s on 

October kind of went in the blink of an eye

Signed up for classes next semester

Wore a leather dress for Halloween just because I wanted to wear leather

Met with a faculty advisor

Had a Japanese Midterm that I did super well on! A+

Bought Hitman 2016 and played it for the 1st time

Bought Oxenfree which I’d been meaning to do for a while

Got a new umbrella from my mom

Discovered a Steven Universe White Diamond AU Blog

November

Donated to a Patreon for the 1st time

Finished Rise of the Tomb Raider (finally)

Started and finished playing Beyond Two Souls

Started playing Bloodborne (help me)

Went to a SAFE training session (that I realized halfway through I didn’t really need but got me out of work I guess)

Saw Ralph Breaks the Internet in theaters

Also saw Bohemian Rhapsody in theaters

Didn’t have to work at all on Thanksgiving break

Ate ham for the 1st time on Thanksgiving 

Went to a buffet restaurant for Thanksgiving for the 1st time

Had my 1st Japanese Oral examination (passed 96.75%)

My dad and stepmom got a cat, Shadow and then gave him away in less than 2 weeks (still bitter about it)

Had a thanksgiving dinner the Saturday after with my stepmom’s family for the 1st time

Saw She-Ra on Netflix for the 1st time

December

Got a pay raise at work

Went through the hell that was finals 

Passed all my classes thankfully (Two B’s, A- and an A) 

Finished taking my final math test

Now officially done with math in school!!! (passed with a B)

Got Guess Who and Connect Four for my step-siblings for Christmas

I got my sister a Webkinz retired Pegasus for Christmas, something she wanted since she was a child (really proud of that)

Got Sonic Forces/Mania, Dark Souls Remastered, Shadow of the Tomb Raider, Hitman 2, Quantic Dream Collection and for Christmas

Went to see Welcome to Marwen with my grandma for the 1st time

Played Cards Against Humanity with my family for the 1st time (that was an experience)

Also finally got my family to try out Death Note Mafia for the 1st time, which had mixed results but that’s okay :)

Fuel my car with gas went down to under $2 for the 1st time 

Finished Umineko’s 3rd question arc (finally) and started the 4th and last one

Started playing Sonic Forces for the 1st time

Got new windshield wipers on my car

Introduced my step-siblings to Tomodachi Life on the 3DS

Skimmed through the raw version of Junjou Romantica Act 48

Played Super Smash Bros Ultimate for the 1st time!