#and then said white queers will turn around and be like “well if you don't agree with me you're just a queerphobic fascist!!” etc etc

[wewatchyoujuno]

some of you guys have to realize that just because you're (white) queer people on tumblr that like to pretend to be intellectuals and use big words doesn't exempt you from having bad takes and being a general piece of shit and talking over queer poc btw

[pretty-weird-ideas]

Anne Rice, Literature, and Literacy

As a Black book reader of Anne Rice, seeing racist IWTV fans doing the "Black kids in Brooklyn don't even know what a computer is" bit by stating Black fans that they are "anti-intellectual" for discouraging or telling Black fans to not read the books (or simply implying that reading the books aren't important) is disturbing.

Black people are allowed to protect their peace, and not read a book written with racist themes, by a well-known controversial author. Furthermore, the implication that not reading a specific series from an author that had a sharp downward turn in quality after Memnoch (I know hot take, I'm sorry) makes a person immature and unintelligent is a level of self-aggrandizing racism that not even Rick and Morty fans could pull off. Black people refusing to read racist content and instead choosing to prioritize content with Black characters and less harmful political themes being associated with a lack of culture and media literacy is repulsive.

Anne Rice fans (not fans of her books, but fans of HER) are in such a large fandom bubble that they have forgotten that people have been actively harmed by Anne Rice THE PERSON who was alive and isn't a figment of fandom imagination. You can READ her opinions and her political beliefs, you can read what she has said and done to real-life people who are still alive and are in fandom TODAY.

People have been harassed by Anne Rice, and people have been threatened and doxxed by Anne Rice and her supporters. She isn't a figment of imagination or a historical figure without living memories. Fanfiction.net isn't Fanfiction.net for no reason. AO3 isn't aggressively "like that" (positive and negative connotations) without cause. The existence of modern fandom culture was built by her horrid actions, and the further and further we get from acknowledging the harm and change she brought to fandom culture, the closer we get to losing fandom culture altogether.

I'm not going to say names, but once again it is repeated offenders who I have spoken about who have once again implied that Black fans are "encouraging" stupidity in Black people. That Black fans are unintelligent and that they are "uncultured" of their own volition. I'm not going to mince words here, the IWTV fandom is full of pieces of shit who believe that Black people are unintelligent and that their unintelligence is "self-inflicted". That their lack of interest in reading a singular book written by a controversial figure is a sign that they are inherently inferior. We've seen this with "Black culture encourages unintelligence" and "Black culture encourages violence" so seeing it within the confines of a space made up of queer losers (for lack of a better term as I am one myself) isn't surprising. But it is disappointing in ways that words, barring expletives, cannot describe. The xenophobia and racism towards African Americans in a show that centers African Americans is revolting. If I want to hear a rant about how Black Americans are encouraging vice and delinquency I could listen to Richard Spencer or Nick Fuentes wax poetic, I don't want to hear it from fans of a woman whose harassment campaigns towards critics are continuing from beyond the grave.

I don't want to be the person that begs people to read Black literature, but I wish a black person would walk up to white people and scoff when they say they haven't read N.K Jemisin or Octavia Butler. That we shall roll our eyes and say "What has literacy come to?" when someone says they don't know who Zora Neale Hurston is. Who walks around and rants about how "White culture is in such a bad spot because their people don't encourage listening to Jazz and Hip Hop. And how I shed my Black savior tears about how destructive their culture is,". Maybe then we would start to see shame.

[crowleysgirl56]

The vast majority of people who work on a show are paid upfront for their labour

They don't get paid dependent on how successful a show is

They also don't do work that doesn't get paid- if they are working on a show that gets cancelled, they get paid for the work they did

All this 'stream GO for the hard workers behind the scenes' is bullshit

They work for companies are will be put on different projects

Just be honest that you want more GO (despite the message that it sends to studios- that audiences are ok with abusers! Just turn a blind eye to them! Yes that gives them more power but who cares because people will watch and make them money!)

Don't pretend your doing this for moral reasons

(And acting like you're doing this for Terry- for all we know he might want his work with an abuser completely destroyed- it's stupid to assume he'd want the series to be continued)

Like say this shit with your chest, you know?

Oh boy, ok. Gonna take a minute to answer this.

Firstly, I and a lot of the fandom, are heartbroken over what NG has done. Because we were duped into thinking he was a decent person. From the things that he wrote to the things that he said we thought that he was good person. And it is horrible that there are people out there suffering because yet another rich powerful white man decided he had the right to take advantage of them.

You seem rather angry and if that anger stems because you have experienced something similar yourself then I hope you have love and support around you so that you can heel.

If you want to talk about money, let me remind you that NG has already been paid for season 3. He will continue to get royalties, and thanks to the writers strike last year, he will now get more money for those royalties than before. If S3 doesn’t go ahead then hundreds of people will lose their jobs. Will they get other jobs? Sure, maybe. But any loss of job in this current economic climate is terrible and stressful (and I’m not talking about DT or MS here. They’ll get more work).

I don’t know if you understand how hyper fixation in neurodiversity works, but this is extremely painful for some people and takes a lot of time and energy and therapy to get over when a hyper fixation is threatened or taken away. Some people, like myself, need closure for things otherwise we can find it extremely difficult to move on emotionally. This obviously does not compare to someone trying to survive after SA, but emotional diversity can be extremely debilitating as well. They are apples and oranges to compare, but you can’t invalidate one person’s pain because you think another person’s pain is worth more.

As for the show itself, there is so little queer representation in media. There is a lot more nowadays compared to a decade ago, or even 5 years ago, but the little representation we have is so extremely important. Do you know how many people have found a truth to themselves thanks to GO? How many people discovered something about themselves that finally gives them answer to how they feel? How at the age of 40 I finally realised that I’m asexual and NOT BROKEN. That’s fucking important.

And this. ALL of this is why everyone, including me, are so fucking angry with NG. Because he has left us emotionally devastated. He has not just physically hurt these women. He has emotionally hurt hundreds of thousands of people. He is a stain.

I have spoken before when this all first happened about how I was angry that my one teeny tiny corner of the internet that made me happy was on fire. I left for a bit. I came back. I want to continue to interact with like minded people who love this fandom. I won’t stop that.

And frankly, and here’s the last I’ll say on this, the world is on fire. It is filled with a lot of fucking awful shit right now. I have suffered a very deep depression of late where some nights after I put the kids to bed I just stare and cry. You don’t know that about me because I don’t say those kinds of things on the internet, because our internet personas are facades. They’re not real. They’re not true life. I’m a real person and I’m aching inside about so many things. And these kinds of messages are just breaking me further. Seriously, when you send stuff like this do you even consider that?! So when I decide to hold onto one of the last bastions of entertainment that brings me joy, I’m not going to be guilted into dropping it because someone involved happens to be a monster. Because let me tell you if we did that every time someone turned out to be horrible, then we would never watch or enjoy anything ever again. EVERYTHING you watch or listen to or enjoy or like or cared about is connected to someone who is horrible or produced by a gigantic evil corporation (Nestle, Disney, Microsoft, Facebook, Google just to name a few). Every. Single. Thing. It’s the clothing you wear, the electronics you buy, the food you eat, the furniture in your house, and ALL the entertainment you consume. So if you gave up everything for some moral stance, then you would literally have nothing left.

Dropping Good Omens does nothing. It sends no message to anyone because the next really fucking awful person is about to produce the next big thing you might happen to love and care about. So what’s the point?

Let me have Good Omens. You don’t like that, then you can block me. That’s what the button is there for. You don’t need to send anonymous hateful messages. And if you want me to “say this shit with my chest” maybe you can send me an ask with the Anonymous off. So I can see your chest too.

I’m turning off anonymous asks now. Considering the only asks I’ve ever received is abusive shit telling me to kill myself or saying David Tennant is a paedophile or just telling me I’m a horrible person for supporting NG (when I’ve already stated before that I don’t anymore).

Sorry for those who’ve managed to get to the end here. Thanks for reading if you have, sorry it was so long. I hope you aren’t receiving the same type of messages. If Anonymous has read this far, I don’t know, maybe think twice before being horrible to random people on the internet?

[lizzieisright]

How can you support Palestine? It’s constantly ranked as one of the worst countries for lgbt rights/safety and people who are found out face death in many instances. A man was decapitated in the street for being found gay and gay sexual relations are illegal with a penalty of jail time… Who do you think you are crusading for? The reality is if you went there with a rainbow flag walking down the street you would not be ok. Queer people flee to Israel for safety because society there as in many Islamic regions is notoriously anti-lgbt. Israel bought their land and have every right to defend themselves contrary to what the people wanting to wipe out their entire country believe

Hello!

I support Palestine because every person has a right to live. Because what is happening is a genocide. It's a fact. You can argue about it to the kingdom come, but it's done by the book genocide and, since it's a fact, opinions can't change it.  

With this being said, I'd like to address two specific points you made.

You can't shame me - or anyone who is queer and supports Palestine - by talking about hate crimes against queer people or describing them. Because before that you should look at your own country and check when was the last time a hate crime happened. I bet it'll be recent. Hate crimes and homophobia are not exclusive to arabic/muslim countries. This point of view is narrow minded at best and racist at worst - either by the lack of education or lack of interest in the world.

"The reality is if you went there with a rainbow flag walking down the street you would not be ok." - At this point I thought you might be a troll because saying this to me? I really am the wrong person to come to with this. I live in Russia. It's illegal to wear rainbow flags here and you will go to jail for it. Chechnya has torture camps for gay men. There's police raids in gay bars in Moscow happening regularly. Trans people are in danger of being forced to detransition. I live in the scenario above, you don't need to scare me with it out of supporting Palestine.

But my point is - I support Palestine as a queer even more as just a human, because I know what it means to live like this. Just because Palestinian queers might not be all loud and proud doesn't mean they don't exist; just because being gay is condemned and puts one's life at risk doesn't mean queers just suddenly stop existing.

And I also know - just as I have support here (my closest friends are straight women with traditional beliefs and they are very comfortable with me being gay, most people I know are not violently homophobic) Palestinian queers have their support, their communities and their people who love them and care for them. And they need our support as well. We don't get to turn our back on our fellow queers just because they happen to live in unsafe places. (and again, this kind of belief stinks of racism or of the need to broaden your worldview horizons. Believe me, the majority of queers are not white and don't live in lgbt-friendly countries)

"Israel bought their land and have every right to defend themselves contrary to what the people wanting to wipe out their entire country believe." My point in this is also really affected by me being Russian. (I'm sorry if some of you are uncomfortable with it, I can't really change it.)

You see, these reasons are very similar to what I've heard when Putin tried to justify the attack on Ukraine.

"Israel bought their land" is just as disgusting to me as "Ukraine didn't exist until 1991". "Israel has every right to defend themselves" is Putin's "We're defending ourselves against the collective West". Which is fucking nonsense.

And this is done by the book propaganda - and I'm not saying this because propaganda is a big word people like to throw around. I know this because I studied propaganda for my bachelor degree as a part of "changing public's opinion" course - me and my classmates were trained in this. They take some historical facts you can't deny or make an enemy out of someone (them vs us) and manipulate it to fit their rhetoric. Once you know how to recognise it you'll never not recognise it again.

Israel is not defending itself by targeting civilians and sniping children - they killed more children in these months than Russia in two years which is horrifying to me - they confirmed multiple times they want to erase Palestine from the face of the Earth. These words don't mean self-defence. It's a colonial power that really wants to show how powerful they are and how unstoppable they are. And again, I know this from the side of the colonial power. For me, people who side with Israel are the same people who side with Russia - and it makes me sick. 

Also please don’t assume that people who support Palestine want to destroy Israel, this is again, very narrow minded. Saving people from genocide by committing another genocide? This is plainly stupid. The world is not black and white, it's more complicated than just taking sides. I'll give an example: I'm queer and I know I'll be in danger if I ever come to Dagestan (close to Chechnya) - but dagestan people fund rise to send humanitarian aid to Palestine and I donate to them, because people are dying and I don't really care if people who'll help them are homophobic to me. Because it's not about me.

But there are moments in history when you need to take a stand, and I will not stand with Israel. (or Russia for that matter)

Anyway. Stand with Ukraine. Free Palestine. 

[wol-fica]

-𝕊𝕙𝕖-

pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - before jenna ortega became a huge actress and held the world in her hand, she only had you

warnings - angst, high schoolers lol, all characters are 18 and up :)

an - school au! senior year for these babies, new series?

—————————

You hooked up with Jenna Ortega.

Big statement to say, but it’s very very true. How it happened though, well that’s a long story. It dates back to when you were both seniors in highschool….

———Past———

You were a dream girl; straight A's, decently pretty, wasn't talkative yet everyone ended up having a conversation with you, just all around good. You were the girl everyone wanted to be friends with, the girl that guys would fawn over and other girls would envy for your vigorous reputation. But alas, that's only the shell that people saw.

In reality, you were someone a mom would scold you for hanging out with because you’re so risky. When you were nine, you climbed a telephone pole and did the macarena sitting on top of it. At fourteen, you somehow hot wired your fathers car and proceeded to crash it, breaking only a toe. And now, at the ripe age of eighteen, you have caused your entire family to move from Miami to Coachella Valley; what a big jump.

It wasn't your intention to almost burn down the school just because you got into a fight and your first defensive measure was to whip out a lighter attached to a can of hairspray and try to turn poor Greta Stone into a Doctor Phil look-a-like just because she called your brother a fag.

You liked to say it was an accident.

But expulsion was given and boy were your parents angry, so angry that they hopped a few states and ended up in a small town full of party people.

Your brother, Theo, was so disappointed in you that he called you a "queer failure".

"I am not a 'Queer Failure'!" You snarled, mocking your brother's voice.

"But you are, and that is a tragedy." Theo replied, his nose buried in a picture of Rob Lowe.

He was already engorged in a magazine from the local drug store that he didn't even realize he was spilling his Pepsi, which you found of the utmost amusing.

"Will both of you please stop bickering? You've been nipping at each other for so long you didn't even notice we are here." Your mother said, scolding you both..

You peered out the window, your y/e/c eyes focusing on the large familiar building. It was already busy with people, some rushing through the doors while others loitered around their cars and by the bike parking area.

You frowned, but got out of the car with your usual calm demeanor. Theo followed suit, hopping out with what he would call a 'gay swing', and strutted off into the ocean of high-smoked teenagers to presumably get a buzz.

"Behave, okay? I don't want a call again." Your mother said through the car window, smiling warmly at you.

"I'll try mom." You replied, leaning down to kiss her cheek before you walked off.

It was a normal thing for teachers to call home about your behavior; you always ended up being reckless and snappy with everyone and everything you come across. 

But that's just how you are.

With your bag loosely hung over your shoulder and your head held high, you lazily walked towards the school, ignoring the looks you received from passersby.

See, your wardrobe was different from most girls. You didn't wear any of the typical sundresses or skinny jeans with floral shirts, you wore guys clothes, nike shorts with hoodies and converses, no matter the weather. Not trying to peg yourself as ‘i’m not like other girls’, but you were definitely a heavy masc.

As you walked in, you noticed a pair of three girls ogling a guy walking past. He had blonde curly hair styled back into a mullet, with matching denim jacket and jeans, and a white button down. A cigarette hung loosely between his lips, completely disregarding school rules as he went towards the parking lot.

'Typical lazy fuck.' You thought as you passed by.

You eventually made it into the school, and proceeded to head straight for your locker as you didn't need any interaction with anyone here. You fumbled with the lock and it's nerving combination before successfully opening it. You took out your assortment of books and binders, placing them neatly on the top shelf before hanging up your backpack.

You were so engrossed in organizing your locker that you almost missed a certain latina girl walking out of the bathroom. Your eyes snapped to her and followed her down the hall to three lockers down from your own.

That girl was Jenna Ortega, the prime jewel of your highschool, or so you liked to think. She was drop dead gorgeous in your opinion, with wavy brown hair that framed her beautifully freckled face, chocolate brown eyes that sparkled in the sunlight, and slightly tanned skin that looked warm and inviting. She was the girl that you first fell in love with, and probably the last.

You first met Jenna when you were outside fixing your bike in the driveway; Jenna happened to go a different route on her morning walk and had noticed you working your ass off in the California sun. She stopped to say hello and introduced herself seeing that you were new to the neighborhood.

Ever since that day, you couldn't stop thinking about her.

Jenna’s heart belonged to no one, but that still didn’t mean should or even could make a move.You didn't mind, it was actually easier to just admire and imagine instead of embarrassing yourself with a potential rejection.

Doesn’t mean that you still yearned to be with her.

"Hey Y/n!"

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a voice you knew almost instantly, your body turning to the short girl.

"Hey Jenna." You replied smoothly, though your heart was running forty miles a second from the voice of a girl who could easily end your life with a wink.

“How was your weekend?” She asked, looking up at your with the most gorgeous eyes you’ve ever seen, “Was it enjoyable?”

“Meh, it was alright.” You said, grabbing your binder out of your locker, “How was yours?”

“It was relaxing, just what I needed.”

You hummed and nodded, reaching down to grab your water bottle, “Did you need something from me?”

"I was wondering if you had anything to do after school today? I need to study for my chemistry quiz and you are the only person who I trust to help me get it done." Jenna asked, toying with her fingers.

Truthfully, Jenna didn't need help studying for her chemistry test, she actually didn't need help studying at all due to the fact that there wasn't a chemistry test. She just wanted to spend time with her friend, the one she couldn't get her mind off of for some reason.

See, she found you to be one of the utmost unique. From your cinnamon brown skin, to your silky hair that was always pulled back into the cutest pony tail. Jenna saw you as the prime reason to why she questioned her sexuality.

But she wouldn't tell you that, she wouldn't tell anyone that.

"Uh...sure, I don't have anything to do today." You muttered, shutting your locker.

"Awesome! Want me to drive you there?" Jenna asked, smiling brightly, which you found entirely cute.

"Whatever works best for you."

Jenna whooped and threw her arms around your neck, burying her face in your green sweater. She loved the smell of her undying crush, finding that your scent was that of coffee and morning air, far better than any candle or air freshener she could buy.

"I'll see you later!" She said, leaning back to smile at you for a moment before hurrying off to her first class.

You watched her go, smiling to yourself as the girl of your dreams waved to every person she saw. Times like these made you question whether love was a feeling or a curse, especially since your heart thumped for one of the most famous upcoming actresses ever.

What a predicament you were in.

——————————

taglist: @cartierdreamx@tundra1029@red1culous@vorsdany@andsoigotabutterfly@theafterofnevermore@yomomisgay@house-of-lovin@slvt4lanadelrey@thenextdawn@nepobaby08@dunohilly@somekindofpoet@alexkolax@cinffy23@pedrosprincess@amberfreemansburntface@myfturn

[gor3sigil]

About being a freak, queer, trans etc.

In all the years I've spent going back and forth with my gender, being sure one day and unsure the next about how I wanted to present, if I wanted to be more fem or masc, if I wanted to be neither of them, there's one thing that I never wished: I never wished to be born cis.

There's something so magical in being trans. To me it's like a never ending childlike wonder of myself and others. I see my body as a white canvas I can do anything with and as a playground for me to explore and find secrets at every turn. It's shedding so many times that I had hundreds of silhouettes and I'm not even 30. It's seeing the most deepest and honest smiles when you hang out with your peers, and they're fully themselves and you are fully yourself even if it's just for one moment.

Being trans is being more naked than ever. My understanding of my own flesh at its core like I'm dissecting it once a year is so whole and complete. Noticing the patterns, the intricate map of my skin, how it grows and stretch with every change even well before HRT as I was practicing new poses and expressions and clothes.

I don't see myself as a flower, I see myself as a whole garden, with bees and critters everywhere, bursting with life in the warmth of the sun under a sky as blue as the cleanest seas.

Regarding the way others see me, mind you, I always was, and I mean ALWAYS, all my life, seen as a freak.

Try to picture this, even tnough you maybe can because this is the story of a whole bunch of us: growing up as a goth, queer and undiagnosed autistic girl, in a little shitty town, the last child of a family of disabled and neurodivergent folks that everyone saw as a family of, well, freaks. The teachers at school knew your brother who was bullied, and your sister who always caused troubles. They don’t know which of these paths you’re going to take but they sure as hell don’t like you. And the only other queer kids you know are a couple of girls who’d chugg down vodka before class in middle school because they were not accepted at home and bullied during recess.

My first queer relationship, also in middle school, was the typical “I loved her to the moon and back but she only wanted to experiment” and it tore down my soul. It took me years to recover from this. I think that, apart from my longest relationship to date, I never put that much of myself into someone I loved. But she was just goofing around and I mean, fair, we were kids, but man did it hurt. I resented her for years after. Now I just hope she’s happy and doing the job she always dreamed of doing.

Anyways, all that to say that I was used to being seen as an outcast. I hated that for years and tried and tried again and again to fit in. It doesn’t work. Because this in not the answer. Remember when I said that my family members were always all disabled ? My father espacially was physically disabled (and probably also autistic but undiagnosed), and he’s still to this day one of the most ableist person I’ve ever met. He knew his kids weren’t “normal”. He fought tooth and nails for us to fit in. Because that’s how he survived. But despite it all, it never worked. Because you can’t force your way into society’s standards.

I never felt more free than when I just gave up trying to. If I was going to be seen as weird anyways, might as well go all the way. Dress as I please, date who I wanted (another story for another time but it didn’t go as planned), enjoy the shit I enjoyed, unapologetically. And guess what ? It stopped the bullying. Because I gained confidence in myself and most of all, pride. I grew proud of being an outcast, so much so that people just started to be like “well, they’re like that anyways” and left me the fuck alone.

I’m rambling lmao but I think it’s important to be aware that nobody will live your life for you. Being your weird self, it’s so hard, butn so rewarding. More rewarding than anything. You’ll start making new relationships based on you TRUE self, you’ll go all the way for your passions, and trust me, you’ll be more free than anyone who bent themselves to fit in the mold and still need to painfully stretch their limbs everyday to keep the act on.

I know that sometimes it’s something you have to do to survive, and that’s perfectly okay. But don’t forget to keep your true self close and to let them out from time to time, okay ? Water down your inner garden. That’s the only way you will truly live.

[clonerightsagenda]

I'm really grateful I have a group I'm already involved in right now, because I'm seeing a lot of despair and "I don't know what to do" and "I'm the only one in my community who feels this way", whereas we're like. well. we know what to do. It's going to suck, it might not work, people are going to get hurt in the meantime no matter how hard we try to limit the damage, but we do know what we need to do.

The reality is, this is not a mobilization problem. It's not going to get fixed by convincing more people to go to the polls, or if a few third party voters had held the party line, so you might as well stop blaming them. Actually unfortunately the next steps rely on stopping blaming individual people, but go ahead and take however long you need to get it out of your system. I get it.

As I said, it's not a mobilization problem. A large portion of the population voted the way they did on purpose, and a big reason for that is because for a large portion of the United States population, life kind of sucks and has been getting worse. The Democratic party has failed to run on a coherent narrative of why this is and how they're going to make it better. The Republican party, on the other hand, has run on a very strong narrative of how they will make it better by getting rid of all the things and people who are to blame. It's a narrative that has worked for a lot of groups in the past. It's working now, in the increasingly polarized social media landscape, even in demographics Democrats have typically considered safe. Everyone loves the luxury of having someone to blame.

Unfortunately, the fix to this is long, and slow, and hard. It's not begging politicians for scraps. It's getting offline and going outside. Talking to your neighbors about their lives, their fears, their needs, and what kind of world would meet those needs. Even the one with the Trump sign in their front yard. Some of these people are in it for the racism and the cruelty and siphoning everything to their rich cronies, but a lot of them are struggling and desperate and grabbed for the life preserver someone threw them, even if it's secretly stuffed with arsenic. If thrown a different life preserver, they can be convinced to grab it.

And no, it's not ok that they decided to shove vulnerable minorities' heads under water just so they could theoretically get theirs. You're allowed to be angry! But unfortunately further isolating these people only pushes them deeper into the fascist movement ready to embrace them. They need to interact with real representatives of the groups they've been trained to blame and fear. They need to be given a different narrative with real solutions, but screaming it at them on Twitter won't do it. Long conversations where people take their hardships seriously but direct them more constructively might.

That's not going to be easy. You may not like or forgive them. And not everyone can do this work! It's going to be safer for white, not visibly queer/gnc folks to make some of these initial contacts. (At one of our meetings, a femme woman of color was talking about canvassing transit riders and dealing with misogynistic comments and having to decide, ok, where do I personally draw the line saying I cannot work with this person versus being aware that a lot of people are not steeped in politically correct language and can change. It's a tough line to walk!) People also aren't interested in answering their doors for canvassers these days, so organic social connections work best. Maybe you're talking to people in your workplace. Your apartment complex. Your neighborhood. Your own family. Maybe you join a book club full of seniors at your public library. Many people want positive change! My state notoriously always votes for progressive ballot measures and then turns around and votes in conservatives who try to dismantle them. There's a logic gap there, but in that gap is a potential for conversation, because we have places where we already agree and want to work together.

The theory here is, if we can talk to enough people, if we can build genuine real world offline connections where we agree on our shared problems and our shared desires for a better world and come up with solid solutions beyond pointing fingers, we can build a large enough coalition to start making demands, most likely through targeted disruptions (strikes, walkouts, etc.). The handy thing is, if you can get that many people demanding something, it doesn't actually matter which party is in power.

Is that possible? I don't know! Organizing that many people is really really hard. It's hard reaching out to people who've just punched you in the gut. Some people will not change. Some people will have hard lines that don't mesh with your hard lines. And I'm certainly really scared myself about the likely takeover of all three branches of government and probable draconian measures against dissent. We're going to have to carefully consider risk/reward when planning actions and disruptions. We're going to have to fight through fear and exhaustion and apathy and pain and betrayal, and I don't know if we can. I don't know if I'll see something like this happen in my lifetime (although the UAW sure is gonna try in 2028). Hell I don't know if we'll have elections 4 years from now. But that's the path. If you're not up for walking it right now, that's fine. If you're not up for walking it ever, ok. But I don't think there are any shortcuts or miracles. This is what we can try, and if it fails, at least we did what we could.

(If you see this post and your instinct is to reply with some variation of 'nice speech but we're all fucked and might as well give up', I understand why you feel this way. It's a feeling a lot of us are struggling with right now. Take the time you need to take care of yourself, and when you're ready, you can come back and we'll be happy to have you.)

[finnglas]

Let me tell you a funny story about baseball.

I'm not a sports gay. I enjoy some sports a moderate amount. (I discovered during the 2024 Paralympics that I really enjoy women's wheelchair basketball. Hot ladies with shoulders, and no squeaky basketball shoe sounds to make me want to rupture both eardrums! But I digress.) The one sport that I've traditionally enjoyed, both playing and watching, is baseball.

For a brief period of time, around 2008-2009, I followed MLB pretty closely. I very carefully decided I was going to have A Team that was my team, and deliberately chose said team. I had some requirements: I wanted a team who was in the American League, not the National League (don't ask, idk), and I wanted one that had been around since the beginning of said league, not one of the newcomers. I also wanted them to have some connection to something I enjoyed, even if it was only that I liked the team uniforms. I ended up with a primary team (the Chicago White Sox) and a secondary team (the Boston Red Sox). (Did I call myself a polysoxxer? I did. Leave me alone.)

Anyway. I followed them religiously. I had the best experience of living in Charlotte, NC, where the White Sox had a farm team in the Charlotte Knights, and I knew exactly which players were in town while they were recovering from an injury - oh, and one time they played an exhibition game and I paid extra for a seat directly behind the White Sox dugout, and was in arm's reach of Carlos Quentin, my absolute favorite player.

Anyway. Things happened. The White Sox traded Quentin and fired Ozzie Guillen. Half my Red Sox got traded - some of them to the *mutters* Yankees. Varitek retired in 2012. I got busy. I hit a period of deep clinical depression. I finally admitted to myself I was queer and started getting more into connecting with the queer scene in town. And I quit following both teams. They weren't "mine" anymore.

For a period of several years, any time I'd express any interest in baseball, people would ask who my team was, and I'd joke that I needed to do some interviews and find a new one. Couldn't be the Tampa Bay Rays because I'm still mad at them for changing the name from the Devil Rays because the new owner is some weirdo Christian, didn't really care about the rest. (My dad, who has been loyal to the St Louis Cardinals since he was eight years old, is baffled as to why I didn't just come over to his team. Well, Dad, they're National League for one thing.)

Well, a few weeks ago, I was traveling for work and I wanted some background noise in the hotel room so I turned on the television. It was on MLB, but on commercial break. I was like you know what? It's time I got a new baseball team. Whoever is playing, I'm going to pick one of these two teams as my new team, provided it's not the Cardinals or the Rays.

Reader. Do you know who was playing that night?

It was the Chicago White Sox vs the Boston Red Sox.

Anyway so I got back together with both my exes during the worst season in the White Sox's history, and every time I see a new update about how bad they're doing I just have to be like, yep, that's my team.

[transificationbeem]

what was tobias’ initial reaction to sev being trans? cuz obviously we see that they are now in a semi stable relationship where they watch out for each other’s addictions…

Hello!!!

There's a very subtle nod to this in chapter 13, but Tobias is actually queer himself in this fic! He's a bisexual man, which of course does not always guarantee acceptance, but Tobias was almost... relieved? This was (in comparison to magic) a normal kind of strange. It was a queerness he was capable of rationalizing (whereas doing literal magic was far beyond his reckoning and also...frightening, given the dynamic of the household and Eileen's moods). Tobias certainly wasn't the best cis father possible to a trans child, but it was him that gave Sev masculine clothing, for example, and was most likely to respect his identity. Tobias was certainly an outlier in their community when Snape was a child—the Snape household in general was noted as strange and unsavory, but not just because they were a magic house. Tobias, at one time, had himself been that strange Snape boy, who ran off and played with girls (to his parent's own horror!), and didn't quite mesh with the ideas about how gender and sex should work in that time. So when his little girl came to him, and said she was actually a boy? Well, he'd seen stranger, hadn't he?

And it's notable that while Tobias was brought up with some very time period typical views on what women and men should be and do—and how deviating from that was wrong, and shameful—he was also brought up by a WWII veteran who himself was wrestling with all the horror he'd seen inflicted on people thought "lesser," and was taught to keep somehting of an open mind. (You can imagine the kind of complicated and uneasy feelings Tobias has on Severus' own history, given this).

And, well, this is probably about how it would've went:

It's that little spot between breakfast and afternoon, which means Tobias isn't hungover anymore, and hasn't yet started drinking. He should lay off, really, on the drinking. He doesn't like himself, when he does it, but he can't seem to stop himself, and— "...da?"

"Aye?" he says immediately, turning to see a pair of dark, round eyes peeking at him through the doorway. Those eyes examine him for a long moment, before the entirety of her darts through the doorway and around the table, tiny hands wringing, dark brows knit.

"How's today?" she asks, child-like but just a little too leading. He feels something catch, knows what she's asking.

"It's a good day, isn't it?"

"Can I tell you somethin'?" she asks.

"'Course you can, Sabrina," he hauls out a chair and slumps into it, then, before she can protest, he hauls her onto his lap, in an armful of gangly limbs and frumpy, moth-holed jumper. "What's got you?"

"I..." she watches him worriedly, yanking on the ends of her hair, which—

He blinks, and pulls some of the strands out of her little fingers. "...Did you cut this?"

"...maybe," she whispers.

"Ma's going ta be pissed," he murmurs, worry furrowing his brows. "What's this you wanted to say?'"

"Well—" a huff, "What if—what if... I wasn't a girl? Would you of...what would you of felt like, if you'd had a boy instead? Would you have liked him?"

Tobias feels a flicker of surprise, eyes widening a little, but Sabrina shrinks, as he smooths his hand over her thin back—and feels guilt snap through him, at how bleedin' thin she's got. She's so small, and someone so small should still have all that baby fat, no? But she's just—tiny. Tinier than any of the other workers' kids. He hums thoughtfully, and considers her words. "Why you askin?"

"...no reason."

"D'you want to be a boy?" Sabrina ducks her head, eyes scrunched shut, shoulders bunched up. Her hands are white-knuckled, bruised from some fool thing she's done this week. "Hey?" he taps her chin. "We answer our fathers when they ask questions, don't we, now?"

Sabrina's face flushes, ruddy and red, and she says, explosively, "Not want. That's just what I am but I—it's all—wrong!" Then, suddenly, she...he? looks terrified. Sabrina scrambles off his lap, eyes round, beige face very blanched. Her little hands shake, and he tastes bile on the back of his tongue. Knows he did that. Don't know how to fix it, not even a little. Doesn't think that's even possible. "I didn't—I mean—!"

He blinks, shaking away the guilt, useless that it is. Considers this, for a moment. He hasn't known any—well, anyone who's done it this way. He's known a couple women, who's like that, in, well, the less than savory places he'd duck into or sneak off to in his wilder days, before Eileen. And, really, he'd take this over...over everything else gone wrong in their life, he supposes. This isn't screaming and crying and dead eyes and shattered glass, or spontaneous fires, or Eileen hurting Sabrina in ways he can't even—can't do nothing about. Him hurting her, in ways he could probably do something about, but doesn't know how. He trails his eyes over the bruises peaking out of her sleeves and collar. He can't give her much—can't really give her anything—but he could do this, couldn't he?

"So you're a boy, then." He nods. "Good 't know."

"...what?"

"You deaf, boy?" he gruffs, brows raising. Maybe this is just a flight of fancy, maybe it's real—but, well, it ain't hurting nobody. And Sabrina's eyes widen, and then, to his shock, fill with tears. Sh—he darts up and hugs him, and maybe his own eyes get a little misty. Not that he'd ever say.

[deluweil]

Based on the shows history with Eddie, I’m not expecting the Abuela and Shannon pop ups to do anything more then propel him into the find new wife for himself and new mother for Chris mission successful. Especially with Edy still on set and them almost being done with the season. Why bother going for a better story when a lazy makes no sense hetero story will do just fine. It’s their specialty when it comes to Eddie after all. Plus They already got that extra queer rep with Buck and Tommy 🙃

Yeah, *sigh* I feel the same on the Eddie front.

God forbid the talent that is Ryan will get a worthy story when we get two white dudes getting the interesting storylines.

I mean, much as love Buck being thrown into curious situations, I am getting tired of the storylines Eddie keep getting, because that's always more of the same, and that's exhausting.

If they weren't going to invest in his story they could have tied him to the first gf he had - being the serial monogamist that he is - and have his storyline revolve around domestic problems, new babies and managing that with work - at least we'd be clear of what his essence is aside from loving Buck like they've been married and intimate for years.

They had that queer rep with Henren and David and Michael - which WAS a great rep and such a well written relationship! I miss them and Michael's interactions with Bobby are sorely missing as well.

I don't think that Buck's storyline is as happy and healthy as ppl make it to be, Tommy literally left him for feeling uncomfortable and fibbing in front of his best friend because he's newly minted out of the closet and maybe he wanted to figure this out by himself first before sharing it with the people closest to him?

Tommy had no right to get upset, and if he wasn't sure of them, he shouldn't have agreed to go to that wedding with Buck, he should have said that he understands where Buck is coming from and to take this slow and that there is no pressure - and maybe keep this friendly until they figure out what they want to be together.

Buck, it felt to me, that has done what he did, the chasing that he said he wouldn't do, because in a certain way he is still in a place where he pleases people even though it is his journey to make and no one should push him to get to that finish line as fast as possible.

Like I said before this is more of the same, Buck does this chasing because like Taylor said, and not in a kind way mind you, that he can't stand not being liked by everyone.

Eddie nudging him to call tommy wasn't exactly the best thing either, because would Buck have still done it if he wasn't told to?

A lot of things don't sit well with me in this story, I've made journeys with my friends when they first came out, one as early as the seventh grade, it is not something that becomes normal immediately, I also saw after the fact what happened when one is shoved out of the closet to his family and friends by force. And how my best friend still bears the guilt of being gay almost 20+years later because that's not how he was raised, and his father didn't accept him, and his first serious boyfriend was a demanding asshole.

He didn't seem like this to us, he was friendly and seemed like a really good guy, but neither one of us knew what really happened there until my friend opened up about it years later.

So when I say Buck's story feels rushed, I talk from experience.

So maybe we have queer rep (which we had before only it wasn't bi) but it doesn't feel like quite there to me, maybe it's the flawed writing, maybe that's the way it was intended to be told to get to some kind of turning point and epiphanies, who knows? I've learned not to expect higher purpose from this show.

I will tell you that though, if the whole Eddie story is to push him to somehow marry M I will retire from this show, I mean that is the laziest form of writing there is, and makes this show completely unwatchable for me, because there is no way we were dragged 7 seasons just so that Eddie can force marry some lukewarm LI out of the need to follow the traditional hetero normative need he was raised into.

Especially since originally Eddie was the one who was supposed to be the coming out story, it would be disappointing on so many levels and I'm not even touching buddie here.

Ryan deserves better than to end with that kind of crappy story-telling.

[ty-the-trainwreck]

thinking about cowgirl!nancy and bartender!robin

(this was the product of me realizing that natalia and maya have photos of them wearing cowboy hats and im just)

( plus a little photo of what i think nancy’s pants would look like in this but if they were white)

robin works at a saloon, and one day nancy comes into town and it's not everyday that a woman comes riding in on a horse with her head held high and felt hat held even higher. robin tunes into the gossip circling around the saloon, even though the men insist that it's not gossip. no, that would be too dainty. too feminine. too queer.

the men say things like, "someone's got to show her what a woman's place is in the world." robin barely knows who this mysterious cowgirl is, but she's tremendously livid at each word that comes out of the crusty lips of those bacteria ridden men. she contemplates spitting in all of their beers, but decides to swap out her saliva for six tablespoons of black pepper. robin relishes in the way every man that had said a sour word wrinkle their nose and cough into their elbow aggressively.

eventually, robin gets to meet the mysterious woman.

she waltz into the saloon with her hands clutching her studded rhinestone belt, her black button up had the two top buttons undone and her white pants were tucked into her light brown cowboy boots.

robin was mesmerized.

the woman walked up towards robin, and she finally got to see her face. the woman had sharp blue eyes and an even sharper jawline. robin felt her knees liquify and she barely kept herself standing.

"you serve anything but rum here?"

oh god.

the woman had a southern accent.

"pardon?"

"i don't see one glas that isn't filled with rum."

"oh, yeah. we do, but nobody that visits this place has actual taste buds." robin tried her best to play it cool and not freak out about how attractive this woman was. "wanna take a seat?" she gestured to one of the barstools and took out a table wipe to start wiping down the bar. "gladly." the cowgirl said, her sentences seemed to be short and clipped, quiet compared to the hooting and hollering around the saloon.

"so, want anything to drink? or do you not have taste buds too?" she teased, stuffing the table wipe into her back pocket. the mysterious woman huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. "whiskey, please. i need some after my ride here."

"ah, so you have only lost a few of your taste buds then."

"bless your heart."

robin rolled her eyes with a smirk, turning around to grab a bottle of whiskey and pour it into a tall glass. she slid it towards the lady and watched as she picked the glass up and take a big swig. robin felt her heart beat a little faster as she witnessed the woman's throat bob and swallow all the whiskey. robin quickly redirected her gaze and stared down at the woman's hands instead, making robin even more pathetic that she already was.

she cleared her throat, blinking rapidly and stumbled on her words before she finally found something to say. "what brings you into town? we don't see cowgirls very often." the lady looked up with a piercing gaze. "you got a problem?" robin shook her head immediately. robin was too gay too have a problem with this fucking goddess.

"no! of course not, it's just nice to see someone that doesn't smell like they dived head first into a riverbank made of mud." the lady laughed, taking a smaller and less urgent sip of her whiskey. she savored the sip, swishing it in her mouth for a moment before swallowing and leaning forward. “care to tell me your name, pretty lady?” robin felt shivers shoot up her spine when she heard that southern drawl.

“robin buckley. what’s yours?”

“nancy. nancy wheeler.”

nancy.

“nancy.”

the name felt so good on her tongue.

“when do you get off work? i want to show you my horse.” the lady- nancy, questioned, her fingers traced the rim of the glass on the counter.

robin looked down at the movement, biting the inside of her cheek before replying. “well, in an hour. but i can leave early.”

jesus christ—

was that flirty?

oh my god she was flirting with this woman.

“you better, buckley.” nancy looked up at robin through her eyelids. the curly haired girl in-front of her fixed her hat, bumping it up a little so she could get a clearer look at robin.

robin gulped, walking backwards before bumping into the cabinets. she let out a string of curses that would make a sailor blush. she was embarrassing herself in front of a hot cowgirl!

she scrambled away and ignored the amused look on nancy’s face as she unbuttoned her black vest and straightened her blouse, making sure it wasn’t wrinkled before fixing her hair in the reflection of the window.

robin came back and nancy was behind the counter, pouring out her whiskey and rinsing it. “y’know you’re not allowed back here, right?” she snickered. nancy looked over at her, taking in the slight adjustments to robin’s outfit. “had to clean my glass.” she held up the glass and tapped it. robin reached for it and placed it one of the top cabinets. and she just now realized that nancy was about a few inches shorter than her.

nancy grabbed robin’s arm, tugging the girl into the direction of the doors to the saloon. they pushed open the wooden doors and robin winced at how bright the sun was. “god, the sun is usually down by the time i get off work.”

“couldn’t say the same for me. i need the sun to work so i can too.” nancy led robin to where a beige mustang with a black mane lapped at some water from a wooden trough.

nancy slid her hand off of robin’s arm and robin instantly missed the touch.

“this is my mare, barb.” robin nodded, watching as the horse lifted her head and bumped her nose into nancy’s chest. nancy hummed, running a hand down the horse’s snout before she turned back to robin. “wanna pet her? promise she don’t bite.”

“i want to..it’s just- i had an accident with a horse a few years ago. so i’m not the most trustworthy of horses.” robin watches the mare brush up against nancy, and she thinks back to her horse.

the horse had white and orange spots on it, robin had often referred to them as ‘freckles.’ since they looked like the ones on robin’s face. robin has rode that horse everywhere, wherever robin went, that horse was there with her. until one day, the horse had gotten spooked and bucked. flinging robin off and sending her straight into the ground.

the horse was taken away, and robin had never seen it again. her best friend, gone.

“that’s alright, she’s patient. she won’t push until you reach out first.” nancy reassured in a comforting voice. robin looked at nancy, the woman was so beautiful, and now robin had to deal with the fact that she was kind?

robin was going to fall in love.

“have you ever fallen off her?”

“a few times, yeah.”

“was it scary?”

“terrifying.”

robin looked at the horse in front of her, it blinked at robin with a strange sort of gentleness. she took a hesitant step forward, flinching a little as the mare let out a sigh. “easy…” nancy whispered, scratching behind the horse’s ear. “it’s alright, she’s giving you permission.” robin nodded, letting out a sigh as well before she left her hand up and her fingers were trembling.

it had been years since she had ever touched a horse. sure, robin was surrounded by horses everyday, but watching a horse shake the ground and witness it’s hooves banging against the ground like the dirt it galloped on was a drum and riding said horse was two different things.

yet, the way nancy soothed robin with her soft southern drawl had given her courage.

robin gently pressed her hand onto the mare’s muzzle. the horse closed it’s eyes, leaning into the touch and robin smiled a little. she was still hesitant as she slid her hand up the mare’s snout.

“you’re doing great.” nancy praised, and robin was thinking some extremely inappropriate thoughts as soon as the words left the woman’s mouth.

“can i ride her?” robin asked, her voice barely there. nancy looked a little surprise. “you sure?”

robin nodded, brushing the little white star on the mare’s forehead. nancy sighed a little. “how about this, i’ll let you hold on to me and i’ll take you somewhere we can watch the sunset.”

“trying to take me out on a date, are you wheeler?” robin teased, and nancy let out a laugh.

“i could be, only way to find out is jumping into the saddle.” nancy hoisted herself up and into the leather saddle, patting the spot behind her. robin placed her foot onto the stirrup and pushed up, taking a deep breath before she pushed up and swung her leg over and sat down on the saddle. “i forgot how hard it was to get onto a horse.” she huffed. “not hard when you adapt to always being in danger.”

“very true.”

nancy picked up the leather reigns, gripping them in her palms before she looked back at robin. “hold on.” robin nodded, taking her hands and placing them on nancy’s waist. she decided to pretend that she was not extremely attracted to this woman as she leaned forward a little and got to smell nancy’s hair.

they began to move, albeit slowly. but they were moving, robin was nervous but she trusted nancy to not kill her (trusting a stranger? that would usually be a death wish in the wild west) so she squeezed nancy’s waist a little.

nancy understood immediately, squeezing her calves and the mare picked up the pace. robin let out a tiny gasp as the horse transitioned into a fast trot. “you okay?” nancy asked, giving robin a concerned look before she quickly returned her gaze to the road ahead. “yeah, just a little nervous.” nancy nodded, and she turned them onto a dirt path.

after a few minutes, robin was more comfortable, and she squeezed nancy’s waist once more to signal that she was ready to pick up the speed. “get ready, when she gets going she gets going.” nancy chuckled, letting out another chuckle as robin wrapped her arms around her waist. “i swear wheeler, i will take the reigns myself if i have to.”

“yeah yeah, i hear you.”

the mare sped up and now they were on the edge of a canter and a gallop. robin let out a tiny scream as she looks down and saw how the ground was a blur under the horse’s hooves. “holy shit holy shit!” robin hollered and nancy let out a boisterous laugh in response. the two laughed as they slowly came to a stop and the scene before them was one of the most beautiful robin had seen in her life.

nancy had brought them to a plateu, the winding rocks were shaded an apricot orange as the sun was slowly making it’s descent down the sky. a creek was below them as well, the water a earthy green color as it flowed on by and into the distance.

robin slowly slid off the horse and stood off to the side, staring at the view and she was completely lost in the moment before nancy walked over and bumped their shoulders together.

“it’s nice, isn’t it?” nancy asked. even her felt hat had orange light rimming it’s edges. robin smiled and nodded. “yeah, it really is.” she wasn’t only talking about the view.

“i agree.”

they stood there in silence before nancy reached up, and adjusted her hat. and robin focused on the interesting pattern on where the rim was lifted a little. it was green and black, and the green looked like a handful of snakes had been let loose them frozen and flattened into the hat. robin wanted to touch it.

yes, robin knew that this could absolutely destroy this little thing her and nancy had going on, but she reached out and lifted the hat off the brunette’s head. nancy raised her eyebrows a little but let robin do so, and she smiled a little as robin placed the hat on her head and adjusted it a little.

“hey.”

“hey.”

silence.

“do i look good?”

“more than good, sweetheart.”

robin melted at the way nancy said her words in a slow voice, her words mixed together in the most perfect way and it was possibly the most alluring southern accent she had ever heard.

“you are aware of what it means when you take a cowboy’s hat, right?”

robin looked a little confused.

“no, i am not aware.”

the corners of nancy’s mouth perked up and she turned to robin completely.

“wear the hat ride the cowboy, buckley.”

—

(i am literally from the south but i know no southern sayings and stuff but i was feeling gay at 4 in the morning and wrote this)

[phantomhunting]

We're Here and We're Queer // Sanders sides modern teen AU

CHAPTER 1 - queer teens have immense crushes on each other and wont fucking CONFESS ALREADY.

<Next chapter coming soon>

CW: implied abuse, and intrulogical being intrulogical (mostly Remus)

Ships: Logan x Remus, Roman x Virgil, Remy x Janus, Emile x Patton

Patton was sitting in his room in front of the mirror, trying to make his light cyan hair look good, but it was too messy. He sighed, the reflection of his soft blue eyes staring at him from the mirror. "I hate this" he whispered. He sighed again and got up, going to his closet and taking out his favorite top, a baby blue vest with a white button-up. He put it on and grabbed his school bag and walked downstairs to get some breakfast.

There wasn't much to eat at home, even though the Mor family (which Patton was part of) had a lot of money. He decided to eat some overly-sugary cereal with lactose free milk (because he's lactose intolerant). When Patton finished eating, he could hear his father walk up the stairs. He quickly washed the dishes he used and placed them neatly on the dish rack. He checked the time, '8:10' was what the clock read. "You're late to school again." his father exclaimed as he entered the room. Patton started breathing heavily, scared of what his father might do. "I-i was just leaving!" He grabbed his bag and ran out the house before his father could do anything. He ran all the way to school, not wanting to be even more late.

- - -

Virgil was sitting in the back of the class with his small dagger shaped fidget, barely listening to the teacher. He was waiting for the break so he could hang out with his friends. He and his older brother, Logan, have recently moved into this city, and a group of students have accepted them in as one of their own. Virgil always doubted if they actually liked them or if it was just because they're new, but at least he'll make the most of it. After two long and boring math classes, it was finally break time. Virgil put all his stuff in his locker and grabbed his food from his bag. He ran to the back of the school, which was where the group always stayed while in there. Roman, Patton, and Remus were already sitting and chatting there. Virgil was hesitant to approach, not wanting to intrude. Then, he suddenly felt a hand touch his shoulder. He jumped and let out a squeak, turning around to see... His older brother, Logan!

"Lo.. don't ever do that again" he tried to sound intimidating but he was so much smaller than him. "What did you get?" Logan asked, pointing at Virgil's lunchbox. "Oh- umm, it's just some bread with a piece of cheese on it" Virgil answered. "You know, you need to eat more than that, Virg" Logan's tone seemed harsh, but Virgil knew Logan cared a lot about him. They both walked over to the group, and sat down next to them.

"Virgil! Logan!" Patton called, happy to see his friends. "Hello!" Remus called as well, only happy to see Logan. "Hi..!" Roman whispered quietly to Virgil, blushing slightly. "Hey, Roman.." Virgil responded, hoping his makeup hides his red face. "Ree, is that new?" Virgil asked, pointing at the collar on Remus' neck. "Why won't you ask your brother~?" Remus responded, making a flirty face to Logan. "Ew- you could've just said yes" Virgil wanted to throw up thinking about his brother and Roman's brother having... Adult times. Remus scoffed. "Has anyone seen Barry? We were supposed to study now but he's not responding to my texts." Logan quickly changed the topic. "Probably still asleep, he oversleeps constantly" Remus responded, taking out his bottle (that's full of some blue liquid that seems full of sugar) and taking a sip. Logan is disgusted by the drink, but moves on, "he's usually here by now..." he checks his phone's notifications again. "Ugh, why does it matter? We're having a conversation here now" Remus rolled his eyes.

There was silence for a few seconds, only the sounds of Patton's chocolate chip cookies in his mouth were heard. "Wassup nerds" Janus sat next to his younger brother, Patton, and placed his bag of oatmeal cookies besides him. "Good morning, Jan" Remus smiled. Virgil and Roman rolled their eyes, they both disliked Janus a bit too much. Janus flashed a sarcastic smile back at them both, raising the tension.

"hey, Remus, may i speak to you in private?" Logan asked, cutting the tension. "Ooo~" Remus smirked. "About a serious topic. Now." Logan hurried. "Alright alright" Remus got up, and Logan followed. They both walked inside the building, they were out of sight in a moment. "Well.... Uh, Roman, did you see the vid i sent you?" Virgil asked, attempting to start a conversation without Patton or Janus. "I did! Wait- we're talking about the dnd one, right?" Roman hurried to clarify, and Virgil nodded, "yeah so i did watch it, it seemed really interesting! I'd love to do a game with you some day" Roman blushed. Virgil smiled awkwardly, wanting to show Roman his years of campaign planning just for him, but he knew it'd seem weird. "Hey, lovebirds, there are more people sitting with you" Janus exclaimed, signaling at himself and his brother. Roman and Virgil both burst into denying chatter, while Patton giggled to himself. They all spent the rest of the break talking about some math teacher that got pregnant from a different teacher. Remus and Logan didn't come back.

- - -

At the end of the school day, as Patton walked out, he saw two cute boys talking right outside the school's gate. He took a deep breath and approached them. "H-hey! My name is Patton, and I think you look really cool, wanna be friends?" He asked, seeming as innocent as a baby. The taller one chuckled, "sure. Im Remy, this is my twin brother, Emile" he smiled, and took a sip out of his coffee. Emile smiled a bit, already knowing he's got feelings for Patton, he always saw him around, hanging with hus classmate, Virgil, and he always seemed so sweet and caring. It was obvious he liked puns, just perfect for him. "He's awkward" Remy whispered to Patton, and preceded to be slapped by Emile. Patt giggled, but in a friendly way rather than a bullying way. Thats when Janus whispered into Patton's ear, "we need to get home, bitch" and laughed.

"LANGUAGE!!" Patton shouted. Janus just kept laughing. "Sorry, uh, this is my brother, Janus" he explained to his new friends. "Is Janus your actual name?" Emile asked, his sweet honey colored eyes glowing with curiosity. "Nope, its Julia. But i really hate that name, so i changed it. Too feminine" Janus explained, grabbing Patton's hand, "now, me and my beloved brother need to head home. See ya!" he dragged him off to the bus stop.

- - -

"he was amazing!!" Emile called, flapping his hands. "His brother was hotter." Remy replied, sipping his coffee like the bad bitch that he is. "Sometimes i really dont get how you're my twin brother and not some distant uncle of an uncle" Em joked. "What can i say, I'm the Picani with the most personality" Remy flipped imaginary hair (his hair is too short). "Pfft, yeah, right. You dont even know what you're gonna do next week, i already know what im learning in college." Emile joked as they both started walking home.

[minimag1c]

Day 6 of Radioapple trick or treat and my favorite so far!

The entity fell in love with a Twink!

Day 6 ----->ᵈᵉᵛⁱˡ ʷᵒʳˢʰⁱᵖ/ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉ

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 ✏ 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

Here's my favorite prompt so far because I mixed it with Ouija board yipeeee!!

Anyway spiritual/mystic Alastor with Rosie and Mimzy trying to find out what kind of entity is haunting an abandoned underground factory that is somehow below the ground because I've watched a video about it and wanted to write something about it am I right

Also Vaggie tags along because she's so fucking underrated and I love her

Surprisingly there isn't really a tw or whatsoever just supernatural or horror stuff probably and that's it lol

Also

It's rushed

Oopsie daisy I suppose

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"So is it the place?" Vaggie asked, looking at her phone before looking forward, a flashlight in her other free hand while Rosie stood next to her, putting her hands on her hips while contemplating the view.

"Apparently? I was not even really sure myself but Carmilla was the one who told me that this area was where the townspeople had the most of manifestations and paranormals activities that occurred."

Someone next to Rosie hummed, a shorter and chubbier woman, who looked at the said place with disdain.

"It may be a spot where some shits happened but still, why did it has to be so goddamn ugly." Mimzy complained as Alastor butted in, a small faint smile on his face.

"Well. Those kind of places were never meant to be really pretty in the first place" he explained. Vaggie shrugged.

"Unless if it's some shitty fancy ass buildings like castles or manors."

"Even those are creeepy-" Rosie shuddered but then Alastor interjected

"Bleh! Who cares?? We were called here for a reason. Let's see what is it all about!" The only man of the group said as Rosie nodded thoughtfully, following her queer platonic lover's enthusiasm.

The four carefully slid and climbed down the muddy and slippery hill where the abandoned toy factory was. This place was pretty recent one if they have to be honest about their experience as paranormal investigators and mystics, only being active since the 19th century unlike the old medieval castle on the coast or the mysterious hut like house that was in the middle of the forest. Still, being recent didn't meant activities wouldn't be that much. In case, it was the opposite because it was freshly new thus more prominent energies.

And it was already the case when Alastor felt something brushing his right shoulder.

Instinctively, the man turned his head, not scared but more curious as Rosie immediately stopped her tracks and so did the two others.

Rosie was more concerned however.

"Are you okay Al?" She asked cautiously as Alastor shook his head slightly, blinking a few times before shrugging nonchalantly.

"It's fine. Just felt something going past me." He admitted. Mimzy couldn't help but groan out, complaining again.

"Great. We've barely entered in and we're already having weirdos pouncing around" she said as Vaggie rolled her eye although it was more of amusement.

"And we should probably keep our mouth shut if we don't want more unwanted manifestations." The brown haired woman responded as they dived deeper into the unknown.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

The whole place was actually a giant cave, with a few constructions made out of old iron using the walls as a support, mushrooms sprouting almost all around with mold. There were no source of lights or whatsoever except the faint white rays of each flashlights on. The smell was a weird mix of moss, humidity and runned up gasoline that instantly flared up in the nostrils.

"Well, without no doubt I can say that this place was completely abandoned." Rosie commented, making sure she wouldn't step on anything that was suspicious even if she wore combat boots.

"Do you feel anything Vaggie?" Alastor asked to the latina who thought for a fraction of second before shaking her head.

"Nothing. Neither something really that energy sucking or another presence aside from you three. Just... The void."

She then frowned slightly as Alastor was the only one who could notice it as she muttered something under her breath.

"A weird void though. As if there's something in this nothing. Weird."

The group continued their exploration, as Alastor couldn't help but cling furthermore on the ouija board in his side bag.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Do you think they had any possession left here or not?" Mimzy asked, helping Rosie to go through a narrow entrance to a completely ruined shack or what seemed to be a garage judging from the destroyed cars and other engines that lingered like corpses on the ground and at the corners.

"I don't know. It's almost as if the whole place was ran over and they didn't had time to actually take everything they had." Vaggie suggested, feeling a bit weirded out by the fact that barely a few milliseconds ago, this room was okay ish.

But when the group actually arrived, something heavy was put on her before suddenly disappeared.

Rosie also seemed to notice this as a rare frown was visible on her face, looking around while dusting away the dirt on her clothes.

"There's something wrong with this room."

"Wrong like what dear?" Alastor piped in, going closer.

Despite being a mystic too, the man was lean about visions rather feeling energies which was complementary with Rosie who was more of an empathic and developed an hypersensitivity with what surrounded her. Vaggie was kin on the two sides and could communicate with spirits while Mimzy, despite her lack of skills in the spiritual field, was the down to Earth friends the trio needed as to not go entirely crazy.

The latina nodded at Rosie's statement.

"There's a weird energy going around here. I don't even know how to describe it. It's as if... It's apart from what really happened in this room." Vaggie tried to explain, even shivering slightly.

Alastor and Mimzy looked at each other, feeling concerned until the shorter woman shrugged.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Let's pull up the board at this rate, we didn't had that much activities until now."

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Hello whoever owns or is in this place-" Vaggie started, crouching on the floor with Rosie and Alastor, hesitant before she continued, knowing there was no turning back as her tone was less scared however more apprehensive.

"-I will introduce myself to you either way. My name is Vaggie and these are my friends: we have Alastor, his queer platonic partner Rosie and Mimzy. Before we begin, I may want to add that we do not mean no harm nor cause disturbance. We just want to communicate with you and be able to reach you in anyway, if you want obviously but aside, if you want to talk with us you may not give us troubles nor hurt us and less forbid us to escape."

She stopped slightly on her explication, biting her lips in slight tense but Rosie nodded, smiling softly as to encourage the other woman to continue. After all small pause, Vaggie continued, her barely touching finger on the board shaking slightly.

"This ouija board is simple: there are letters, numbers alongside with a "yes" and a "no". Depending on our question, you may move the indicator here according to the answer you will communicate. Again, thank you for your patience and we will now ask a first question."

After a few seconds of silence, Alastor spoke up, his tone trying to be affirmative.

"First thing first: Are you with us right now?"

At first, there was nothing until, slowly and actually very slowly, the indicator started to move to the yes, even barely reaching it. The three made sure their fingers wouldn't touch the small instrument.

"Wait I have question for y'all." Mimzy suddenly hushered, probably as to not startle the entity, looking around in discomfort. "If the person- or whatever- actually says no, then isn't that just expose the fact that it's still there?"

"When it says no, it doesn't necessarily means it's an entity." Vaggie whispered back as Rosie continued, careful with her words.

"There are a lot of various energies going around especially in places like this. Other types then respond instead of the the one we actually want to find.

Mimzy just hummed, still sensing something fishy in the whole garage.

When she realized her friend didn't had anymore question, Rosie piped in, her tone gentle as possible.

"Thank you for response. Now, it may seems like a personal question, but what is your name mon cher?"

Again, a pause before the indicator slid shakily to the letter L.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, seeing that the small pod didn't seemed to move.

"L?"

"Maybe it doesn't really want to tell its name?" Mimzy asked, mirroring Alastor's confused expression.

Rosie was a bit disappointed however, before she could thank the shy entity again, it sudden slid fastly to another letter that even Vaggie was taken aback by the sudden determination.

U.

".. Lu?" She asked before the white indicator moved again, now its movements were more fluid as even Mimzy even found herself widening her eyes at the sudden shift.

C.

I.

L U C I.

Then it was calmer now... Except they heard a loud booming sound not from afar but actually outside of the underground garage. The four all turned their head at it before Mimzy suddenly froze, her face showing dread.

Alastor felt his heart suddenly beat rapidly, feeling something conflicting inside before the shorter woman breathed out in an almost exhaustion, her eyes blinking rapidly.

"Something was trying to touch me all around my body. It had an actual weight, not wind nor some other stuff like that." She said, putting her hand on her quickly beating heart.

Vaggie frowned at that before she sighed, looking at Alastor and Rosie before she nodded.

"Alright. Thank you so much for your answers Luci. I hope we didn't disturbed you that much and so we say you goodbye. Have a good rest." She said the last part awkwardly before feeling that the board was calmer again as she removed her hand from it.

Rosie and Alastor obviously did the same thing and, despite the familiar flash of wind who was now on his back and neck coming back, they had a singular thought. Not really that motivating but as investigators, it was a question of matters.

Time to see where this sound was.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"I think it was around here-?" Rosie suggested, looking up and down at the giant yet completely dark part of the cave, the rays of her flashlight not even being able to reach the top.

The rest of the small group followed her, making sure they wouldn't step on a rusty steel nor a destroyed piece of metal that was thrown out like scrap.

Alastor, specifically, was feeling unwell but not, fortunately, in a physical sense.

More like it was as if something was constantly trying to push his insides, pressing his organs with iron, with barely enough space to make him breathe or walk.

Mimzy, who walked next to him, couldn't help but notice her friend's sudden shift of behavior. He was way less energetic and more sluggish, keeping a pace that made the shorter woman judge it was the fastest he could go without fainting. Fuck, even his look seemed distant almost glazed as he blinked profusely.

"Alastor man, you good there?" Her voice rang out, an unusual worried tone in her words.

That seemed to alert both Rosie and Vaggie who stopped on their tracks. Now the three women looked at the man, Rosie being the one to speak up after a small moment, frowning deeper.

"Al, mon cher do you want a break? We can stop for a while if it's too much for you."

Said Alastor immediately snapped from his dizzy trance as he looked around, a drop of sweat running down his forehead before he slowly and shakily nodded his head.

"I-I think I'll sit down a bit."

Vaggie nodded, solemn before she helped Mimzy to make their tall friend lay a bit on what they judged the least infected rock by mushrooms, moss or mold. Alastor took a deep breath, Rosie kept trying to study around the zone, feeling even more frustrated.

"Clearly there's something wrong but I can't even put my finger on where-!" She whispered yelled, making sure to not make the cavern shake because of her voice.

"I feel something yet I can't put my finger where." Vaggie added, leading her ear for any signs or suspicious sounds.

"Don't want to bother the- whatever they are- the entity-?" Mimzy started before she continued, her tone more hushered and careful. "Luci. When they stopped talking with us, we had more manifestations-"

As the three women debated on a few theories or observations there and there, Alastor felt a bit better.

Still, the weightening was still persistent but it was a tad better than just a few minutes ago.

"-But there are chances that Luci is probably a trapped entity, meaning they can't go outside the gar-"

Vaggie didn't had time to finish what she was trying to say that a quite loud sound of water running down, just next to the gargantuan cavern.

The group froze in place, all wide eyes.

"... It can't be a coincidence that the water decided to act up when we mentioned their name." Rosie piped in, gripping her flashlight furthermore.

"What?" Mimzy inquired, titling her head as she raised an eyebrow. "Luci-?"

Another suspicious sound echoed, almost startling the latter as Vaggie shivered.

"Maybe Lu- they are not that restricted as we think"

"I can try and find them" Alastor suddenly spoke, Rosie widening her eyes at the suggestion before she got even more worried.

"Alastor, mon cher, don't tell me you're gonna-"

"-try and see or communicate with them."

Everyone went silent for a moment until Mimzy interjected, her tone unsure and wary, feeling tense for her friend.

"Alastor, you're still recovering and not able to really do severe efforts. Are you even sure you want to do that-?"

The concerned man took a small breath as to calm down the chaos that lingered on his energies before he nodded slightly.

"Better try than be on suspension. I'll try."

"In that case then I'll go with you" Vaggie suggested, getting up, putting her hands on her hips as a determined look was on her face.

"If this ever got out of hand, we still need a backup."

Alastor, at first, was a bit taken aback but, after hindsight, judged it wise.

It wasn't everyday after all he would communicate with something that seemed to have the same signs close to a demon.

What a strange sparring demon though.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Holy-" Vaggie breathed out in disbelief and almost dread as her own flashlight pointed at the spot she was staring as Alastor stood next to her, his eyes wide as a plate.

"... Holy shit indeed." He finished after her, viewing the same sight as her.

The stone wall in front of them were just as enormous and imposingly gran like the others only the crater of water that was just a stew of chemicals or infected plants made it noticeable...

... And the gooey black liquid that was running down from the very top of the carven to the bottom, on the dirty burned down floor and almost below the two's feet.

It was still running and fresh. That's what struck them the most.

"What the fuck is that-?" Vaggie whispered yelled as she couldn't help herself but crouch down a bit, inspecting more the substance, curious but then she just stopped at getting closer, not really wanting to meddle herself with it.

Alastor also got closer but not that unlike Vaggie as he observed, cautious.

It wasn't like mud for the texture was smoother but not gasoline nor oil leaking from whatever holes or something similar in particular since the color was actually pitch black, not hue, nuance or anything else that would ressemble.

Then something else hit Alastor in his mind.

The gushy and oppressive feeling he had earlier.

It was gone but instead, the uncanny feeling was replacing with another variant of it, as if something or someone wanted to be able to reach him out or feel his own physical energy in any ways.

Just like the two time he felt wind brushing past him.

"This zone tastes weird."

"How so?" Alastor inquired. Vaggie frowned furthermore.

"I don't even know how to describe it precisely or in- normal words let's say to be honest. It's like- it's obvious something is here and it's not even supposed to be here. And yet, it's... Sweet. Almost a sugary scent." She then grumbled, massaging her forehead. "I know it's a very weird thing to say especially out of context but- I don't know!"

Alastor looked at her, patient. Honestly, she had a point. In that specific spot, who wasn't even not that far away from Rosie and Mimzy who were just a few meters away, the two weren't alone. However, unlike the usual disturbed energy or the unsatisfied weeping ghost who couldn't find an afterlife, it was more like an entity that... Was just there. Meaning no harm or whatsoever. The thing was just there, not really existing literacy speaking but you get it.

"Do you still want to try and communicate with them or not? We can still go back" Vaggie warned one last time, wanting to make sure Alastor would scale his choices well.

This time, however, he didn't hesitated that much anymore as he nodded.

Vaggie sighed a bit before backing away, giving the man space as he sat on the ground, barely touching the black liquid, crossing his legs before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

The last thing he could discern before completely dissociating was a vague red but small figure standing in front of him.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"D...e....d..r"

Alastor was already out of his body as he already felt another presence either behind on next to him. A new voice then rang out in his ears, completely unknown as he started to feel the warmth spreading out all over his body and the wind blowing almost all around.

"Hello?" He called out, moving slightly as to not startle whoever was with him.

Even if, judging by the sound and the tone of the blurred voice he could discern, they didn't seemed to be that sacred of him.

Well. He was lucky.

"I don't think I presented myself and I do apologize for that. My name is Alastor and I am here as a mediator. I just want to be able to communicate with whoever you are. I mean no harm nor cause disturbance here. If I am ever bothering you, I am deeply sorry and if are not willing to partake in I will not force you."

He took a small pause before he continued.

"However, we do engage each other with this, I have conditions. No harming or hurting either me or anyone in the underground."

Then Alastor stopped as he widened his eyes in surprise furthermore, seeing the bright although blurry orb just in front of him.

The entity's energy.

But it was weird yet they didn't seemed to be angry.

Without that much hesitation, he got closer to it and then the word that he vaguely heard a few moments ago was clearer now.

"Oh! Chadine!"

When he cleared his internal vision more, in front of him stood a short man, blonde hair and pale skin, almost similar to Mimzy. He was smiling brightly at Alastor, even slightly bouncing before waving at the taller.

"Hello!" He greeted as Alastor have founded himself dumbfounded.

"Uhm- hi-?" He reculantly greeted back while the other man smiled even more. Even the taller man felt a bit unnerved by this mysterious person's behavior, finding his smile a bit too much.

And the fact that this is the in quote demonic entity they have found down here-? How the fuck-

"Your hair."

Alastor couldn't help but be startled by the sudden words spoken by the individual.

"... Excuse me-?"

"You hair!" The blonde man insisted, pointing at the brunette's head before he added, with tone sweeter. "Really pretty."

Oooookay. Alastor wouldn't lie if it was probably getting a bit creepy.

"Uh thanks- I guess?" He awkwardly thanked as the other beamed furthermore.

"Luci." He spoke again pointing at himself before Alastor could connect the dots as his heart almost gave up.

"You're- you're Luci-"

"-fer."

"What?"

"Lucifer."

He pointed at himself, his smile going softer as to not startle the human.

"Name is Lucifer. You Alastor?" He asked, curious.

Without paying that much mind to the full name revealed, Alastor didn't say a word before he nodded, still wary but less tense than a few moments ago. Lucifer seemed to get that the taller man was still suspicious of him. The entity couldn't help but chuckles just slightly, raising his hands out.

"Not harm. Only curious." He tried to reassure which, unfortunately, wasn't that helpful that Alastor could only grasp a few comprehensive words there and there who weren't clear enough without context. The devil then continued, his tone slower as to articulate.

"Me no harm. I'm here wondering. Like new things. No hurt" Lucifer tried to explain as Alastor stared at him, still disoriented and deadpan.

However, the entity suddenly frowned as he looked at the human and the latter almost got scared, thinking that it- he would change his mind.

"You. Hurt. You not okay." Lucifer then brought as Alastor frowned in turn.

"Wait what do you mean? I'm fine." He argued back but Lucifer vividly shook his head.

"You sick. Ill. Need rest." He insisted as Alastor couldn't help but no trusting even more whoever this Lucifer was.

"I can assure I am not. Only... Tired."

But Lucifer wasn't having it.

"Like you but you need aid. Not tired. Burning hot. Shaking. Not feeling well." The blonde was persistent before shrugging, his tone less cheery although it was more caring. "Need to stop. Tell your friends. Will follow you. Make sure you're fine"

Alastor blinked rapidly for a few seconds before he realized what Lucifer meant as he was filled with dread.

"Wait Lucifer-!"

But just like that everything was gone and he almost choked out on his saliva when he came back on the physical world.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Alastor! Are you okay??" Vaggie's worried voice rang out as the concerned one almost collapsed on the disgustingly filthy concrete ground, not even caring that the black gooey liquid was starting to stick on his hands and pants as he put an hand on his chest to calm down his fast beating heart.

"Alastor? Al?" Vaggie kept asking, taking the man's shoulders firmly as her frown deepen. "Alastor look at me." She asked firmly. "Alastor please-"

"I-I'm fine Vaggie I'm fine-" he finally managed to croak out after what felt like an eternity, rubbing his face in tiredness and exhaustion.

Said Vaggie was still gripping onto him almost like for dear life but then loosened a bit as she sighed in relief. "Thanks Atzi you're still with us. What happened? You seemed really shaken up." She inquired, her tone still concerned. Alastor shook his head.

"It's not- well-" he groaned out in frustration before he couldn't just keep it for himself. "I was able to be in contact with them- well him in that case"

Vaggie perked up at the statement.

"Luci??"

"Actually Luci is not his full name. It's almost like a nickname let's say. His name is Lucifer-"

"Guys."

Mimzy's voice suddenly rang out as the two immediately snapped their heads at it, seeing the short woman with Rosie, going towards them. Vaggie realized that the two didn't seemed that happy and her heart sped up when Rosie spoke up, her tone unusually unsure.

"Alastor? Mon cher, are you alright?"

"I'm fine dear." The man quickly responded before he swiftly changed the subject. "What happened to you twẞo? I thought you would stay next to the garage?" He asked.

The two concerned women looked at each other, unsure if they should share to the other duo what they have found.

But then again, their goals were to inspect and sees what kind of entities was floating around this uncanny place thus it was a crucial part of their findings.

Mimzy took out her phone as she searched for something in her gallery. Meanwhile Rosie explained, feeling even oppressed than the first time they entered underground.

"Technically me and Mim were actually waiting for you two to finish the communication thing but then I felt an energy, not stronger than when we did the ouija board but it was still prominent, going past me as I heard a voice following it. Mimzy didn't seemed fazed but felt a sudden shift of atmosphere as we decided to follow whatever this was, preparing ourselves..."

"Alright I've found it." Mimzy interrupted as she landed her phone to Vaggie, knowing Alastor wasn't fond on her own, who brought the phone closer as to watch was she tried to show until she instantly backed away, her expression dreadful as she processed what she saw.

"Wh-what- what the fuck???"

Rosie only nodded.

"The voice and its energy was masculine. I don't know if it's linked with Luci but- whatever that specific spot in here-"

She said, showing to Alastor the photo of what seemed to be a bedroom who had a ruined altar dedicated to the half destroyed statue of a naked woman with goat esque attributes, numerous words written on the walls and candles scattered all around.

The man couldn't help but shiver.

"The liquid we have found splattered all around the altar was not blood, fortunately but we did found bones and it was rather a sticky muddy weird mix of black-"

"-Just like this one." Alastor finished, raising his now dirty hand soaked with the same substance as Mimzy was definitely taken aback by it. Vaggie continued after she judged the two didn't had anything else to say.

"Alastor was able to be in contact with the entity that resides here."

"So it was indeed just one who was responsible of all of this?" Rosie asked as Vaggie nodded, continuing.

"Luci is not his full name. It's Lucifer." Alastor added, surprisingly nonchalant as the group all fell silent, the new information keeping them on edge.

After a while, Mimzy was the first to speak up, her words completely betraying her need to leave this place as fast as possible.

"Well?? What are we waiting for? This place is haunted by a fucking demon. Let's just get out of here as possible."

The rest couldn't agree more.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ���•

After a few cleansing and procedures that would make sure they didn't forgot anything else , the four finally made it out of the underground factory. The exit they have found was way smaller than the spot where they entered but the ground wasn't as slippery as the other and, after dragging and crawling their bodies out of the dirt, they were all out, in the middle of afternoon as Mimzy grunted in pain upon having the sun flashing at her face after hours being inside something dark.

"Well at least it's not night. I hate going to a forest when it's completely devoid of lights." Rosie cheered up as Alastor nodded, agreeing with her while smiling at his queer platonic lover. Vaggie added.

"Yeah. Plus, we have more chances of getting lost when it's night."

"Ugh whatever. As long as we're out of this mad place I'm glad." Mimzy piped in before she smirked at the group. "Come on guys! Our tips is at Carmilla's house!"

Thus the shorter woman was the first to immediately lead the way, Vaggie shrugging and following her. Rosie carefully took Alastor's hand as she smiled at him before the two followed Mimzy, discussing other topics than what happened.

"Let's go guys!"

Alastor was about to bleat, feeling a sudden wave of stress coming back as his eyes widened in terror. Rosie didn't seemed to realize what was going on as she kept discussing with the others, smiling all the way.

And Alastor didn't know if he should bring it up the fact that he heard Lucifer's voice next to his ear, a sudden presence following close.

Shit-!

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

I didn't know if any of this shit made senses but I'm happy I wrote and finished this.

Anyway do you want it to be a small series or not? Because I would like to write about it too after the week will be finished and the following chapters/requests of my other stories!

See ya!

[30/10/2024]

(4806 words)

----

Wattpad version

Archive of our own version

[nagdabbit]

i got recommended a little life by another coworker today—another straight, white, not disabled coworker, mind—and she called it a Gay Masterpiece. she just Cried So Much and it was SO Cathartic and she thinks i would get So Much Out Of It and it really just made her see the struggles of Being Disabled and Depressed.

i have read it, it was bad. i think there's something to be said for not calling it "trauma porn" which it kind of isn't, but actually it is. it's "oh, i agreed about these ideas of race" for white people reading black characters written by a non-black author who refused to do any research. it's "oh, im gonna internalize these ideas and opinions of queerness" for straight people reading queer characters written by a straight author who decided not to do any research. gay men in this book are either predators or victims, and there is no in between. it's "oh, my, being disabled is just the worst and if they can't be fixed, then they serve no purpose and may as well die, they'll be better off that way" for people without disabilities, who have seemingly no one in their lives that they care about who are disabled, written by a non-disabled author who, for those in the back, refused to do any research. same for the resulting depression and self harm. "oh that's awful, here's more of it." it's trauma porn for people who what to know what it's like to struggle.

the point of the book for those who don't relate, or see themselves in the characters, is voyeurism. it's trauma on trauma on trauma, for the sake of, "ooh, look at that, that's awful. oh well, no use doing anything. here's more trauma." it's a manifesto for those who don't bother trying to save people, because they don't think broken people deserved to be saved.

the point of this book, for those who may find themselves in this characters and these events, is that you are alone. there is no help for you, there is no hope for you, life isnt the answer and you can't be saved. in fact, if you're broken enough, if you're traumatized enough, if you're disabled enough, if you're depressed enough, you may as well kill yourself because there's no reason for you to live.

it's not about found family, it's not about the "limited emotional vocabulary" of men, or whatever else yanigahara said she's fascinated by. it's about one character getting repeatedly hurt and being failed by everyone around him at every turn.

good books about bad and flawed people exist. this isn't one of those. this is a book for the purpose of saying, explicitly, that there comes a point where you are too broken to save. the author has said so, said that this was written from the point of view that therapy is worthless, and at some point people just need to die instead of trying to live. the author has said, in her own words, that life isn't the answer, and she resents therapy and mental illness treatments for pushing that idea.

"i didn't do any research" isn't a badge of fucking honor. it's ignorant and it's harmful. i fucking hate this book, i hate hanya yanigahara. whoever recommended it to my coworkers should eat shit.

[sparkles-oflight]

Polaroid Photos - Part 3

Master Post | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Hi everyone. Long time no see. You might have noticed I changed the chapter count. You'll get 4 chapters because I couldn't finish all the plotlines I wanted in 6k haha.

Also, I added one more trope to this... hehe. Chaos.

In this chapter, we have mentions of vomiting (really quick ones) and we deal once again with homophobia and queer problems (it's basically the soul of these two chapters haha)

Sources for what's real or not are below! (If you don't see something that should be there, I probably put it in the last chapter's sources list)

The door shut.

He was slammed against the small table next to it. His hands grabbed it as his knuckles turned white and his nails craved new marks on the wood.

He had hands on his head, a mouth on his mouth, then on his chin, then neck. It was warm, it was hungry.

He chuckled.

It wasn’t the first time he brought someone home. He had done it countless times. But he loved to bring this person to his house over and over and over again.

He drove him completely insane.

- Shush… - he grabbed the man’s shirt and slowly pulled away – Nace, what did I tell you about pushing me?

Nace pulled away and smiled.

- Don’t tell me you don’t like it.

And he can’t deny it, he loved being manhandled by him. Not today though.

- I would rather you obey the rules. – he pushed Nace’s hair away from his face – Do you remember them?

- Your house, your choice.

- Exactly.

- And what has mister Peteh chosen?

Jan put his fingers on Nace’s chin and pulled him closer. Their lips were so close to each other that Nace could feel his breathing against his mouth. When a smirk formed on the younger’s lips, it made Nace falter a little in his steps.

- Today, I’ll take care of you.

- Sounds tempting.

Jan was about to kiss Nace when they were suddenly interrupted by a loud sound coming from a small figure. Igor.

- Well, maybe I should give him a snack first. – Jan gave him a quick peck and pulled away – But you go to my room and I’ll be there in no time.

“My room” is a weird thing to say, in Jan’s opinion. Jan spends a lot of nights in Nace’s house and when he does come back to his own apartment, Nace is always with him. They were basically living together - clothes scattered around both apartments.

- Okay, I’m ready. – Jan says as he closes the bedroom door.

Jan was certain of one thing: he was utterly in love with Nace.

Jan had loved a lot of things throughout his life—the first of them being music.

He doesn’t remember when it started, but he remembers what it felt like when he heard music through his own headphones and felt comfort in it for the first time.

It was always there for him. Music was there when he needed peace in his mind, when he wanted to sleep, when he felt happy and energetic. It was everything. It provided security, a friendly hand when everything seemed dark.

The first time Jan liked someone he was 12.

There was this cute girl from another class with very pale skin, chubby, light brown hair, and brown eyes. Jan talked to her a few times. Her name was Karolina.

One day, he decided to talk to his classmate who was friends with Karolina, Ema, on how he should approach her. Ema told him she’d talk to her, and he should have an answer by the following day.

The next day came along, and Ema told him Karolina didn’t want to talk to him again.

- Oops, she said she doesn’t want to talk to you. Sorry, guess you are just not her type. – she laughed.

It was mean. The way she said it was mean.  But 12-year-old Jan accepted it. And, once again, music was what helped him deal with the situation. Karolina ended up moving out to Ljubljana the following year.

Two years later, Jan went to Italy with his class. He made some friends there including a girl called Francesca. She was part of the dance team of the school they visited.

Jan couldn’t point out exactly what made him so attracted to her. Whether it was the way she behaved and how she filled the room with her loud laughs, and melodic voice or if it was something physical.

Francesca looked nothing like Karolina. She had short hair which gave her a bit of an androgynous look, tan skin, dark brown hair, and eyes. She was one year younger.

- I’m actually going to Slovenia during the summer with my parents. – she said – Maybe we can meet up then?

When Francesca went to Slovenia, Jan made sure to be her personal tour guide. He showed her his favorite spots, his friends, important historical places, and most importantly, the Ljubljanica river where Jan confessed his feelings to someone for the first time…

- Fran… I have to tell you something. – Jan cleared his throat – I… I like you… Like. A lot. Ti amo.

“I love you”, it had been the first time Jan said those words out loud. Even if in another language, it was a powerful statement.

What he met in Fran’s eyes were tears being held back. Jan was mortified when he felt her trembling hands on his, so he gripped them more.

- I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have said that-

- No, it’s fine… it’s just. – she breathed and calmly continued as the tears rolled down her cheeks – Jan… I like you too, but- Fuck I’m crying. – she laughed – It’s just… I haven’t been totally honest with you.

She hadn’t been honest? How come? Sure, they hadn’t spent that long together, but he was sure that-

Before his brain started spiraling further, Fran began speaking.

- I don’t know if I’m the right person for you…

- Why not? Slovenia and Italy are neighbors. You practically live next door.

- No, I mean… Okay Jan, nobody knows this. Can you keep it a secret?

Jan nodded.

- I’m not… a girl. I mean, I was born in a girl’s body, but I am… hell, I don’t know. I’m not sure if I’m a boy either it’s just… something’s off. I am both. Or none of them, I don’t know.

Jan had never thought about who he was attracted to. He always did whatever his heart felt like it was right. He always did as his heart told him. When Jan was in love, it produced beautiful melodies. And right now, his heart produced a nice sound despite the new info. Jan didn’t feel any less attracted to Fran just because she wasn’t either a girl or a boy. Jan just liked her as a person.

- And I don’t think this confusion in me should-

- Hey. – he wiped the tears coming out of her sobs.

- It’s just that… I don’t want to be a bother.

- You don’t bother at all. I couldn’t care less about what you identify with. I like you because you are you. Girl or not.

Fran’s expression changed suddenly. It seemed as if the whole world had just lightened up in one second.

- Jan! – she hugged him so strongly he almost had to pull away to breathe.

Then she whispered something against the jacket he couldn’t catch so he pulled back to look at her.

- Anch'io ti amo.

“I love you too”.

He smiled. God… he was happy.

- Should we kiss or…? – Jan asked.

That’s what people do when they like each other right? Fuck, he didn’t think that ahead.

- Yes, we can kiss. – she smiled back at him.

It was there, Jan had his first kiss, and it was with someone who wasn’t a girl. But she wasn’t a boy either. Just a person trying to find themselves out.

When Jan got home, he searched for everything he could concerning gender identity and sexuality.

“Queer”, that’s a label that fitted with him. Yeah, that works…

Fran? Was she perhaps… Non-binary? Or maybe not. Jan isn’t sure if she even cares about the label’s name.

Jan thought it was a beautiful thing to be able to love everyone he wanted and for people to be able to present themselves however they wanted. But then he scrolled down, and down, and down…

Countless cases of homophobia and transphobia end in tragedies. Jan was scared. Jan grew scared of acting how he wanted in his home country – a country in the Balkans. Prejudice was something Jan wasn’t ready to fight against and he wasn’t ready to tell anyone that he wasn’t… Jan wasn’t straight. He’d keep that secret within him.

Fran and Jan’s love story only lasted for so long. After a couple of months, Fran broke up with Jan due to the long distance. They stayed friends.

Music found a way to warm Jan’s heart yet again. He had always been fascinated by the old guitar they had in the living room, but never had the courage to touch it.

- Mom… dad... can I start taking music lessons? – he asked.

His parents didn’t seem opposed to the idea until Jan said:

- I want to study in Ljubljana.

Ljubljana was quite far away from Vrhnika.  But he knew it was possible. Ema, for example, was going to Ljubljana every week to do gymnastics.

- Why? – his dad asked.

- It has this teacher I’d really like to study under and in Ljubljana…

Jan was too scared to admit it, but… Here he goes.

- I would like to be a musician when I grow up. Just like Matej. And I’d have more chances in the capital.

His brother was a music producer. One time, Jan tried to create a music track, which Matej made it 10x better in mere minutes. But Jan wasn’t one to give up. If he was to become a musician, he would do it well. He would aim high.

- Jan, music is not for everyone. – his mother said – Especially in Slovenia. No one ever makes it big and I… we are not sure if you should take the same path as your brother.

- Mom, I can study something else as well. – he proposed – I would just like to start with a good teacher and see if I like it enough to keep it going. It’s not going to stop me from studying and getting into a university. And-!

Jan kept showing all the ways he could make the trips to Ljubljana work and how he was willing to pay for his classes if he found a job during the weekends. In the end, his father asked:

- Is this really what you want to do?

- More than anything.

His father glanced at his mother who nodded and after a sigh he declared:

- You can study in Ljubljana.

- Yes! I just need you guys to authorize me to work and-

- Jan, we will pay. Besides, you are too young to work. You can pay us after you graduate. We don’t want you to be overloaded, deal?

- Deal.

Jan hugged his parents and thanked them countless times, even offering to cook risotto for dinner as a gratitude gesture. His parents refused.

Music, to Jan, ran in his blood – it was his blood. Without music, the world had no meaning and no place for Jan. And that’s why Jan has to belong to that world. And he worked hard on getting better and better.

That’s when his teacher presented him to a skinny pale kid with a half-assed haircut and piercing blue eyes. He didn’t seem friendly at first, but Jan understood him. He didn’t look like the type who came in to make friends. He was very good for someone who had just started, so Jan figures he was just as hardworking as Jan if not more.

- Very well, Jan. – their teacher said – Jan, this is Kris. Kris this is Jan.

- Hello. – Jan smiled at him.

- Hi.

Kris looked stunned after Jan’s little performance and asked more about him on his way to the bus station.

- So… You are from Vrhnika? – Kris asked.

- Isn’t my accent a giveaway?

- Yeah yeah, I was just making sure… Uhm… How do I ask you this? – Kris pulled out his phone and showed him a photo of a girl – Do you know her?

- Ema? Yeah, we used to be classmates. What about her?

- So, I… I kind of like her? – he fidgeted with his hands.

- Is she the reason why you start playing the guitar?

- Something like that.

Jan looked at Kris. “Of course, he is this dedicated to music because of a crush. Love motivates us in interesting ways”, Jan thought. “But if you knew how I feel love, I bet you wouldn’t understand. I think you’d call me all sorts of things. I think you’d stop being near me…” Vil thoughts plagued Jan’s mind whenever something like this happened – whenever people his age were in love with the “right person”. The “right person” is, of course, someone from the opposite sex.

- So… if it’s not much to ask, could you please- Ah, shit. – Kris took his buzzing phone out of his pocket and picked up the call – What do you want, flower boy!?

Jan observed Kris in his call with this mysterious “flower boy”. He looked irritated, but then he smiled. Then he yelled again, but quietly told this boy sweet things after. What was this? Was Kris perhaps-?

- Sorry for this. It’s Bojan, he’s annoying.

- Uhm. I see, it’s okay.

- So, what I was going to say, uhm…

- I can help you with Ema. – he promptly said.

Jan had no fucking clue how to help Kris with Ema.

Ema hates him. Well, at least hated him. They hadn’t seen each other in years. Maybe Ema had changed. I mean, this boy, Kris, couldn’t have possibly fallen for someone like the old Ema.

Jan starts following Ema on Instagram to see what she’s up to nowadays and how he could strike up a conversation with her. However, he’s caught by surprise when he receives a following request from Ema too. Jan accepts it, not sure if it was the best decision or not.

After a few minutes, he gets a notification:

Ema: Heyaaaaa Ema: sorry to bother you but I saw you follow Kris Ema: yk the gustin kid Ema: I was wondering… Ema: how well do you know kris?

Jan didn’t reply for a bit. He had just met the guy. But he wondered why Ema cared so suddenly about his friendship with Kris.

Jan: he is my friend Jan: are you interested in him? Jan: or gustin? Ema: Jaaaaaaaaan always so mean :v Ema: okay, don’t tell him (or do hehe) but I have a MASSIVE crush on him :) Ema: and idk if you remembeeer, but I helped you out once Ema: you can return the favor to this old friend of yours <3

Jan remembers why he doesn’t like Ema: she’s annoying and manipulative. Kris, what the fuck did you see in her?

But as any 15-year-old, Jan helped them both get together, not wanting to let Kris down nor did he want to be forever in debt to Ema, of all people.

After a while, their teacher suggested Jan and Kris play together in a band... which they both seemed eager to start. Buržuazija was created by them and some of their friends.

To celebrate their first concert, Jan and Kris got drunk at Kris’ house. They were outside stargazing, lying on the spiral stairs of his backyard storage shed, so as to not disturb anyone.

- Hehe, Bojan was there. – Kris giggled – And he looked so stuuuuuuuupid. You should have seen him. He knows I’m better than him.

- Why does it matter?

- It matters because I… - he sat up sideways – because I started playing because of him, hehe.

Oh.

Oh.

Jan had known Kris for a while and understood he wasn’t some homophobe and he looked more than comfortable with sharing physical contact with people of the same sex but-

Jan always thought what made Kris start playing was love. He could see it in the way Kris works so hard to achieve his dreams. He could see it in the way Kris is eager to learn more and more and he could see it in the way Kris moves and smiles at the sound he produces with his guitar. And he thought the source of that love was his stupid crush on Ema, but now-

Jan had joked about Kris liking Bojan countless times, but now he had his suspicions.

- I want to vomit. – Kris announces before he turns to the other side and pours all over his garden.

One day, after one of their shows, Bojan asked Kris for Jan’s number. A couple of days later, Bojan invited Jan into a new band with Martin and Matic. He immediately agreed and said goodbye to his fellow bandmates.

If you ask why Jan changed bands so quickly, he probably wouldn’t be able to come up with an answer. But at the time, what he felt was that he wanted to be near his best friend Kris, and he wanted to understand more about this mysterious figure that was Bojan Cvjetićanin and what drew Kris to him so much.

The day Jan was formerly introduced to everyone, he stopped in his tracks and looked up and down the tallest in the room: Martin, the bass player.

He gulped at the sight. The melody in his heart was playing yet again.

- You like to stare, uh? – Martin chuckled.

Jan cleared his throat and presented himself to the figure.

If it weren’t for Martin’s height and skinny body, maybe he wouldn’t stand out as much as he does, but Jan saw something in his eyes, that he couldn’t quite understand.

After a couple of months in the band, Bojan proposed for them to perform at his girlfriend’s birthday party. They all agreed of course, even if Ivana and Bojan were disgustingly close, but it was when Jan was near the beer that he noticed the presence of a familiar face: Karolina’s.

She had stopped growing and she looked so small from Jan’s perspective, but it was still good old Karolina. Introverted and sweet.

- Hi. – she shyly said.

- Uh… hi.

- I haven’t seen you in a while. After, you know, moving to Ljubljana…

- Yeah. I know.

- Uhm… - she started fidgeting with her hair – I thought it was really good to see you perform up there.

- Uhm, t-thanks. – he stuttered.

They spent the night chatting. Jan learned that Ema had apparently badmouthed him to Karolina - fuck Ema – and that’s why she didn’t want to see him. But after seeing him perform, she thought she’d give it a try. At first, it was awkward, but they ended up making some good talk and exchanging contacts at the end of the night. After a few dates and getting to know each other, Jan eventually asked her to be his girlfriend and she agreed.

With the year of their graduation, Bojan, Jan, Martin, and Matic were particularly busy with schoolwork and didn’t get much time to practice. Then, one day:

Krisko❤️: My girlfriend dumped me

Jan began celebrating over the fact Ema was gone from Kris’ life. Then he remembered his friend was probably not doing so well…

Jan: are you okay? Krisko❤️: I don’t want to talk about it anymore Jan: then what do you want? Krisko❤️: I want to go out! I want to drink! And I want to forget about everything Jan: alcoholic :/

In the end, they decided to go to a nearby gay bar. Jan was more comfortable with the idea of being in queer spaces nowadays. And he wasn’t planning on staying with anyone in there - he was with Karol after all. He just wanted to distract Kris. And he had to admit: he felt safe here.

They stayed mostly isolated at the club. Some guys hit on Kris, but Jan was the one flirting back at them to divert them away from his friend who was feeling emotional.

- And I was just being honest! – Kris laughed after too many drinks to count – I just wanted the best for her.

- Hey! Are you going to drink that? – Jan pointed to Kris’ shirt in which he had spilled bear earlier that night.

- Drink what?

Jan licked the stain making him giggle. He didn’t want to see his friend cry over someone as bitchy as Ema. He wanted him to enjoy himself in this place.

Eventually, Kris started to feel more motivated to talk to people and dance at the club. That’s when Jan lost sight of him and got worried. Did all the gays in Ljubljana have to be giants? Why couldn’t he find a drunk 17-year-old tall kid in the middle of this sea of heads?

When Jan found Kris, he saw something he wasn’t expecting: Kris was kissing Bojan.

“Oh my god, that fruit!” Jan pulled them away and dragged Kris back home. That was it.

On their way home, Jan tried to scold Kris for getting too drunk and for kissing people he wouldn’t otherwise and for leaving his sight and for- Honestly, just as Kris didn’t hear a word of what Jan said, Jan doesn’t remember much of what he said either. The alcohol was hitting him just as hard and making his head dizzy. But it was okay because that meant that Kris and Bojan were finally going to get together and resolve their fucking issues.

Oh, how wrong he was. Of course, these two couldn’t be normal and talk about what happened. No! That would be too easy. Instead, they forgot what happened and Kris fell for Klara.

Well, at least Klara seemed nice. They studied similar fields and seemed to have the same hobbies. She supported his career and decisions, unlike a certain ex Kris had that he refuses to mention.

During the summer, Kris stormed into the rehearsal room and told them that Ema knew about his and Klara’s relationship and told them all the things she told him. Ema is still a bitch.

- Wait, hold on. – Jan stopped Kris’ discourse – What does she mean by the band “broke up once”?

Everyone in the room looked at Jan.

- What? – he asked.

- Jan, did you seriously not notice? – Martin asked.

- What? What did I have to notice?

So, apparently, after Bojan fought with their producer over the creation of Gola, he quietly quit the band and was planning a solo career – news to Jan’s ears – and Kris made him come back by helping him finish composing the song.

- And that’s that. – Bojan concluded

- And how was I supposed to know!?

- Jan, Bojan went radio silent for months! – Kris argued with him – Well, that’s not the point! The point is-

And then he kept rambling and rambling about Ema’s bitchy attitude. Thankfully that’s the last he heard of her.

While Kris was writing Dopamin, he showed up at Jan’s house once to show him the final version before he showed anyone else in the band. Jan could see him visibly shaking. He was strongly gripping his shorts and looked down as a child who had been guilty of something.

- Do you-

Jan was about to ask him about it, but he was interrupted by Kris.

- Please just listen to the song first.

Jan liked the demo Kris presented him, especially the lyrics. According to Kris, it was about Klara, but the only thing that reminded him of Klara was the chemical “dopamine” itself.

- I like this a lot. I think Bojan will like it too.

- Thanks.

A moment of silence goes by. Before Kris breaks the ice again.

- Jan. Jan, I-I. – he stuttered in his words and started fidgeting with Jan’s pillow.

Jan, with his rolling chair, got closer to Kris who was sitting in the bed.

- I… Promise to not tell anyone?

- I promise.

- So… during the band’s break, I… Remember when we went to the gay club?

- Yes, I do.

- I ended up kissing a guy.

- Yes, you did.

- So… I think I liked it? Or the guy? I don’t know… I think I’m some flavor of gay.

Jan face palmed, before taking the pillow away from Kris and putting it back on the bed.

- Lay down. I’m getting a notebook. This is conversion therapy now.

Kris looked scared - eyes dilated. Jan chuckled.

- Kris, I’m joking. I’ll give you a normal therapy session. – Kris released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding – Plus, I was the one who took you to the gay bar, what the fuck do you think I am? A homophobe? Honestly, I am offended.

They both laughed and with that, Kris laid down and he started talking about how it all started and what he felt like. After they were done, Kris asked:

- Jan, how do you know so much?

Jan felt a knot in his stomach. All the voices in his head told him to trust no one with this information, but he fought against them. This was his friend Kris. Kris wouldn’t hurt him.

- Kris, I’m pansexual.

“Pansexual” that’s the label Jan chose some time ago. Possibly after meeting Martin. He is not sure what Martin meant to him yet, but he definitely made things clearer to him. Clearer than Fran did.

- What’s that? Jan, please tell me you are not attracted to pans or something- 

Jan took the pillow from behind Kris’ head and hit him lightly, making the younger one laugh.

- Idiot. – he said, smiling.

For a while, the boys tried to fit their careers with their studies and jobs, but, in 2020, everything closed. While in lockdown, Jan and Karol had to get some distance and that’s when he spent most nights talking to the boys online. Hours and hours of calls on Discord talking to his friends, until he started noticing his grades dropping.

- Do you want help? – Martin asked after everyone else left the call and the two of them were left alone.

- I mean, of course.

At first, Martin and Jan would stay until later in call to help each other out with schoolwork. Then it was before the others joined. Then it wasn’t even about homework anymore. It was about listening to music, about philosophy, about space, about science. It was just so nice to have someone to talk about all these things

- When this is over, we can go on a date. – Martin suggested.

- I can show you Vrhnika around.

- Yes, and we will hold our hands as we stroll across the river. – he laughed.

After the first wave of the pandemic was over, Jan and Karolina met in Vrhnika.

When Jan was able to feel Karolina in his palms, kiss her lips, put his hands on her hair, he felt… He felt disappointed. The song in his heart was gone.

Karolina was still Karolina. Same old Karolina. But that’s the problem. His feelings had changed from the distance, she didn’t. And he didn’t have the heart to tell her that the moment they met again wasn’t special. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that they didn’t feel special to him anymore. But even so, he kept dating her. Because that’s what he knew. He had always had old Karolina.

The band eventually reunited, and it was a heartfelt moment between the five of them. Bojan had grown – or claimed to – a couple of centimeters, Matic gained some weight, Kris let his hair finally grow a little, and Martin… Martin was different now. He didn’t stand out because of his height. He stood out because of the thoughts and kindness he had shared with Jan. Martin had become a true gentleman.

In December, Karolina had to talk to Jan about something that was concerning her.

She showed him clearly fake news articles about them both and how Karolina was his wife. She said she has also been getting a lot of people questioning about it in her DMs and she couldn’t keep up with it anymore. She apologized to Jan, and he simply nodded. That’s when she said:

- Jan, I feel you distant. You are just nodding along. And you have been nodding along for months now. Do you even like me anymore? Or are you just with me out of habit?

Jan didn’t say anything.

- Jan, I can’t have you when all you do is nod. Jan… I’m sorry, but this is the last time I want to be next to you.

Jan went silent for a couple of weeks after that.

He had moved on his own with Igor by then. He only got up to feed Igor and to munch on something. He didn’t clean up, he didn’t cook full meals. The food was disappearing from the shelves, and he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to keep refilling them.

It was over. He had to let his first love go after months of Jan dragging on the end of their relationship. It was sad. It was sad because he truly didn’t want to hurt Karolina. And now she was gone.

Kris called. Bojan called. Martin called. Matic called.

Jan’s phone ran out of battery eventually. He didn’t charge it.

Kris called again. And again. And again. And “Brr”, his doorbell rang. Jan didn’t go to the door. It rang for longer. Jan didn’t go to the door. Then he heard the door opening.

- Sorry, Jan. – he heard a voice – I used the spare key.

It was Kris. Of course it was.

For the first time in weeks, there was sound in the apartment. Not even Jan’s heart was producing sounds, not even Igor. Jan’s heart thinks Kris’ voice is a nice sound.

- I don’t have COVID. Do you? – he yelled.

Jan didn’t reply.

- Ugh, of course, you don’t. – Kris said after looking around the apartment – You haven’t opened a window in weeks, let alone go outside.

Kris’ steps grew louder, though Jan could hear he wasn’t wearing shoes, instead wearing his spare pair of slippers.

- I’m entering your room. I don’t mind seeing your balls but I’m giving you some time to dress up if you want to.

No reply. No sound. No nothing.

Kris’ heart picks up as he enters the room.

- Jan? – he calls out in fear – Jan?

He gets closer and touches his shoulder. Jan doesn’t react, but Kris can feel him breathing. That’s good.

- Jan, we have been all worried about you.

Jan uttered:

- Where did you get the key?

- Karolina gave it to me.

Jan covered himself more with the duvet.

- Jan! – Kris took the duvet away from him – Fuck this, I’m not letting you stay like this.

He grabbed Jan’s hand and noticed how thin his wrist was, but even so, he dragged him out of his bed. Jan fell on his butt.

- Janči, let’s do music, guitars, piano, tuba whatever the fuck you want, I’ll even steal my dad’s most precious equipment so that you can play something. But please let’s do something!

Jan chuckled. So, it was Kris’ turn to help him now?

- You laughed! Ah! Jan, please let me help you.

Kris kneeled in front of him and cupped his friend’s face.

- Please let me help you… Let me Janči… I-

Jan looked at Kris’ eyes and noticed how he was holding back tears.

- Jan… I just want my best friend to be okay.

Jan stroked his cheek as the tears were now falling down them.

- And I can cook for you… even that damn risotto you love so much. And-and I can help you clean your apartment! I can-can even t-take you out to bars and- and I can take you to your favorite guitar store and help you with your ho-homework. And I- I want to help you, Jan!

His cries had turned into full sobs. Jan pulled Kris into a soft hug. Weak even. Jan’s body was trying to reserve energy, but he couldn’t see his Krisko like that. Desperate.

Jan kissed him on the side of his head and then pulled away to look into his eyes.

- Thank you, Krisko.

Kris wiped his nose with the back of his hand and smiled. He looked like a mess. Then he walked to the window, looked at Jan – who nodded – and Kris opened the curtains, shutters, and window to let some air and light get into the room. Jan didn’t like the light hitting his eyes.

- Has anyone ever told you you are like the sun, Kris?

- What is that supposed to mean? – he said as he put one of his hands on his hip and the other on the window frame.

- You are annoying when you wake up people in the morning.

- Well, geez, thanks.

- But you are also essential.

A soft smile formed on their lips. After a moment of silence, Kris got out of the room. Jan could hear him opening all the windows and after a few minutes, he heard the younger one using the microwave.

Jan walked out of his room to the living room and Kris came back to him with soup.

- I passed by the store before coming. I assumed you needed to eat something, so I brought you something hot and easy to digest to help your stomach be able to… you know, warm up before you eat a full meal. – Kris set the soup aside on the table – I hope you don’t mind I brought some things for you.

- What did she tell you? – Jan asked the question that plagued his mind.

- Uhm… - Kris pondered, ultimately deciding to be honest – She said she noticed you were more distant ever since the pandemic. Karolina told me about the articles and the harassment and said she couldn’t keep up with this and with the way things were going.

- Uhm… - Jan nodded and started eating the food in front of him.

- I’ll see what clothes you have clean and… - Kris slapped his knees and got up – I’ll get you ready to shower. Okay?

Jan nodded.

After Jan was done eating, he got up and left his things on the kitchen sink. “I need to clean that up”, Jan thought as he looked at the dishes pile.

Jan went to his room to put his phone to charge and yes, Kris removed his bed sheets. “Explains the washing machine noises”.

When Jan entered the bathroom, Kris had filled up his bathtub and refilled his toilet paper stock, bought a new toothbrush, and more shampoo.

- How did you know I was missing all of this?

- I know you too well. Get in the bathtub.

Jan undressed and did as he was told, now feeling better.

- Why are you doing all of this? – he asked.

- Uhm… think of it as my good action for Christmas day.

- Wait, today is Christmas?

- Oh, yeah. That’s why I’m spending the night here as well. I talked to your parents already. The band too. No one is worried anymore, and I told them to not annoy you. By the way, they told me they came to check on you, but-

- I told them to go away, I know.

- I wanted to give you some weeks before I check on you. Honestly, I don’t know if I could have helped the moment the breakup happened. I don’t have a good track with breakups myself. – he chuckled – Turn around, I’m washing your hair.

When Jan was finally facing his back to Kris, he began talking.

- I loved her… for a while you know. – he took a deep breath as Kris’ fingers ran through his hair - But… Kris, I like Martin.

- WHAT!? – Kris pulled his hair.

- STOP, YOU ARE HURTING ME!

- Sorry, Sorry. How did you not tell me!? How long has this been going on!? Does he know!? Did something happen!? When!? Why!? Where!? Actually, don’t tell me! I don’t need to know-

- Kris, shut the fuck up. – he got the younger one’s hand off his hair – I knew you’d react like this, Mom.

- Sorry, sorry.

- It’s just… it’s the first time I like a guy. I mean… a guy that isn’t a celebrity. And he’s my friend and he’s… He’s probably just that: a friend. And I’ve been thinking a lot about it. I walked around the matter over and over. Would I be able to handle being rejected by him? I’m not sure I would.

Kris didn’t say anything, waiting for Jan to put his thoughts together.

- And I’m scared. I’ve always been scared I’d fall for someone I was friends with. And of falling for a guy when I feel like I can’t show them around. I couldn’t even show a girlfriend before she got harassed. I can’t be myself. I can never let people know my true self. I can never-

- Jan. – Kris touched his shoulders and kissed his cheek – The world is shit. And being famous doesn’t make things easier, but… What if… okay I know this isn’t Buržuazija, but what if we, as Joker Out, try to make the world a little bit better? Slovenia better. Vrhnika better. It can be something as small. We can try, and I know we can do it.

Jan looked at Kris, he had the brightest smile.

- Use that love for music to make the world a better place.

♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩♫♩

And then Jan told Kris that pulling his hair turned him on.

I loved making gay jokes in this chapter hehe. Sorry for taking so long. Sources:

CHAPTER 3: 1. Jan's first crush: https://youtube.com/shorts/adn0Lzj4LtY?si=FIkfPMj03FeUBoeW 2. Jan and Italy: https://www.tumblr.com/fuckthemforthis/742555943225671680/bojan-languages-georg-cvjeti%C4%87anin-i-also?source=share 3. Jan's first kiss and gf: https://youtube.com/shorts/7iSr3Cg4MxY?si=yyJTbTqbn5H7-cci 4. Jan's first song and his brother: https://www.tiktok.com/@jokeroutsubs/video/7259802154502802715?_r=1&_t=8o4Fbw1L90K 5. Jan didn't know about the band break: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C1wFfuTvrij/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== 6. Just Martin saying he has gone on dates with Jan: https://youtu.be/0KjMRzLKdjY?si=uIMCyFigLHyyf06u&t=157 7. Pretty sure he said the same in this interview but I'm too lazy too find the timestamp: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DuRRrOSUIZE 8. Same interview as the previous one, but Jan calls Kris passionate at 4:28, plus JaRtin flirting is always welcomed in this household

[tehnakki]

I just wanted to thank you for posting that selfie. I’ve been nervous about my career prospects since I’m going into engineering and dress a lot more eccentric (for lack of a better term) than like 90% of the people in my classes. It’s nice to see that someone who dresses fun and colorful doesn’t have to tone it down to do a major presentation (and to NASA at that, holy fuck)

Awwww, don't be nervous! Wanna know a ridiculous thing that happened to me as a intern/new hire?

So I worked in a human testing lab at university, and usually would run tests whenever I could get human subjects, so sometimes that was the middle of the night because college students. So I got pretty comfortable wandering about campus in my pajamas.

So I was napping in the human centrifuge between tests (like you do), when the light suddenly turned on and there was a whole horde of people in suits and polo shirts gathered around me.

My professor had forgotten to tell me that NASA Johnson was visiting for the day to see our progress.

I ended up having to give a presentation on the lab and then demonstrate the test campaign (with no bra to hold my giant bazangas). Also, my hair was pink at the time.

Fast forward 8 months and I'm working in the NASA Johnson Exercise Lab on an extension of the project I was on and on my first day multiple people said hi and called me "pajama intern", people who I am SURE were not at the lab test. That ended up being my nickname until their was a classic Houston downpour and I got soaked on my way to building 6 to give a presentation to a different team (I truly am cursed when it comes to presentations). So I stopped in the locker room and tossed all my clothes in a dryer, and sat around in a towel for a bit, but the dryer was taking forever. So I grabbed a lab coat, put it on OVER the towel (to try to disguise that I was just wearing a towel??? I still don't know what I thought would happen). And headed to the conference room.

Where I pretended to be completely oblivious to the fact that everyone was dying of laughter as I got setup and gave a very good presentation on lunar regolith.

Then I was "Labcoat [First Name]" till I left to go to industry, where I immediately died my hair blue and started wearing a Lemur onesie to the office everyday.

Anyways, for as shallow as most people are, I've found that it takes very little time for me to establish my credibility regardless of what I'm wearing. And the people who don't treat my experience and skills with respect were never going to anyways, regardless of what I was wearing. I'm a nonbinary black queer person in an industry still dominated by cis white men. If they are going to hate me for things I can't change, I may as well ignore all social mores and conventions and just have a good time being the most "myself" I can be.

And by being "myself" and not trying to mask all the time, I free up so much of my brain from anxiety about meeting some arbitrary requirements and tend to make better connections with people. So I end up with really good friendships with people who never interact with queer weirdos like me but find me fascinating. Like my buddy, a high ranking officer in The Space Force (LOL) who sends me the stupidest emoji text messages every time I snicker in a call with them. And loves that I mock the military usage of "sir/ma'aming" every sentence by calling people 20years older than me "my bud".

I have no idea where I was going with this.... But fuck the haters, have fun with your life. YOLO!