#honestly I call myself queer now but I reserve the right to change as I age and my experiences and way of relating to the world change!

[kindred-is-obsessed]

Reasons you should be watching Craig of the Creek

Not enough people are watching this wonderful show, so I thought I’d do my best to introduce people to it. It’s made by former Steven Universe crew Ben Levin and Matt Burnett, so if you’re missing Steven Universe while it’s on hiatus this is a great way to keep away the hiatus blues, or if you just enjoy in cartoons. It’s great for a whole list of reasons, which broadly fall into the two categories of great representation and great storytelling:

Canonical queer representation

-       The witches premiere in the episode The Curse. If you aren’t sure if you want to watch this whole show definitely watch this one at least! It’s my absolute favourite not least of all because it’s about teen goth girls in love. It has a sequel The Last Kid in The Creek which is also wonderful, and the witches cameo throughout the series. I don’t want to spoil too much but The Curse is essentially about the two not wanting to be separated and struggling to admit their feelings for each other. (Spoilers: they do and walk off alone, blushing, staring at each other lovingly, while the kids aww at them)

-       Bernard and his girlfriend watch a cooking show hosted by a gay couple.

-       Other cameos, hints and coded queer kids such as JP’s sister (who has fancy dinner reservations with Kat, a woman with a shaved head who compliments Kelsey’s fake sword). There’s also Raj and Shaun (two very close friends), as well as several very boyish tomboys, including Handlebarb and Turner.

-       All public bathrooms I’ve spotted in the show have gender neutral signs on them which is nice.

POC representation

-       Craig, the main character, is black and has a loving family explored in depth, including an activist grandmother working for the council, a wise and fun grandfather, a supportive fun dad who loves his amazing wife, an adorable assertive little sister, and an angsty overachieving older brother who just wants to be a good grownup who loves his family and girlfriend.  

-       There are MANY characters of colour. There are black and brown characters, Raj is Indian, Stacks is Hispanic (and it’s implied she is an immigrant), there are several Asian characters, Kelsey is Hungarian and Jewish, a persistent background character wears a hijab (I’m pretty sure she was named at some point but I can’t find her name anywhere. She definitely has lines at one point). I’m sure there are others I have missed. No one is a stereotype as far as I am aware.

Subtle neurodivergent representation

-       JP is possibly on the autism spectrum. I’d love neurodivergent people’s opinions on this, but while the representation isn’t canonical or obvious I think it’s good that while JP is represented as having different thought processes from his friends, he isn’t made fun of for it, at least not by them. It’s noteworthy I think that he’s the eldest of the core trio, probably because he finds it easier to relate to younger people who still share his imagination and care less about his unique way of thinking. His neurodivergence is explored most explicitly in the episode Jextra Perrestrial, so if you’re interested in this kind of representation definitely check that episode out.

Non-nuclear family representation

-       While the main character is a member of the typical nuclear family you see on TV (except black, and actually interesting) most of the other families we see are not.

-       JP is raised by his mother and older sister. His father is never mentioned and their house is definitely in worse condition than the others we see. His family works hard to take care of each other. His sister is a nurse and both her and her mother are away a lot of the time, but they both love JP very much. JP’s sister also happens to be really openly body positive. I love them a lot.

-       Kelsey’s father is an only parent. There’s still a lot of mystery surrounding how Kelsey’s mother passed away. It’s a very subtle but important part of Kelsey’s character and comes through in really bittersweet adorable ways (not limited to Kelsey using her “half-orphan”ness to guilt trip a man into giving her money)

-       Other kinds of families are scattered throughout the show, including families that move around a lot, a home-school kid with a strict mother, and more.

Unique approach to fantasy and sci-fi

-       You know how most kids show will take a kid’s fantasy and bring it to reality? Well Craig of the Creek keeps the fantastical and nostalgic element of that line of thinking but never confirms or denies whether the kids fantasies are real or in their heads. And not in a Scooby Doo way where the fantastical elements are explained away, but are hinted as a possibility right at the very end. Instead, two perspectives (the fantastical perspective and the realistic perspective) are woven into every episode.

-       This means there are two ways to interpret every episode. You can view the witches as real witches, or as goth teenagers. You can view Helen as a kid from another dimension, or a home-school kid who is never at the creek at the same time as the other kids. You can view Deltron as a cyborg from the future, or as an imaginative kid from a big city.

-       This is super unique and fun to watch. They come up with so many new ideas and its always fun to figure out what’s actually happening, while still getting to relive childhood fantastical nostalgia.

-       Almost all of these episodes use this to talk about an issue, but these issues can get quite complex and are definitely not shoved down your throat.

Overarching mystery plot about a colonialist kingdom / cult

-       Love the slow burn storytelling of Steven Universe’s Diamond Authority? Love putting together the mysteries of Gravity Falls? Then you’ll love this plot about colonialism, classism, bullying, peer pressure and more and its mysterious build up including cryptic graffiti art and flower symbolism.

-       Even before this arc properly begins, Craig of The Creek primarily centers around the microcosm of the Creek. Many of the episodes have a lot of commentary on society, politics and how different factions of people form and interact.

-       The show is over 50 episodes in and this arc is only just starting to kick off so now is the time to catch up and watch.

-       Fun complex villain(s)

Complex relatable characters

-       Want commentary and nostalgia about horse girls, children’s tea parties, weird kids, angsty teens, young weebs, dweebs and more!? Every childhood obsession is represented in this show.

-       Adults! All the parents and older teens in this show are just as rich and complex as the kids. They are all so interesting and fun.  

-       Want characters with arcs, aims, fun relationships and complexity!? Look no further! Redemption arcs! Revelations! Found family! It’s all here!

Great art and soundtrack

-       Cute background and character designs that make you nostalgic as hell and are also beautiful and well thought out.

-       Sometimes the art design is changed up for a particular episode to portray a certain fantastical / sci fi element. It’s very fun and engaging. 

-       An opening song that’s fun to sing along to, bittersweet ending song that makes me want to cry, a couple of musical episodes including a super fun rap musical episode, and a great OST

Queer headcanons

-       There are tons of ways to interpret the show but here’s some of my head canons just to get an idea.

-       (Note that despite my headcanons I use the pronouns for the kids that they use in the show cause I’m not certain about any of it and they’re kids who haven’t come out yet and also for clarity and consistency’s sake – I’m not saying trans people are not their genders. Don’t worry I’m nonbinary)

-       I headcanon that all the main trio grow up to realise they are queer. They strike me as that weird group of friends that doesn’t fit in with the other kids and aren’t quite sure how they all came to be friends, only to later realise they all showed early signs of breaking gender roles and that’s why they stuck together.

-       Craig definitely grows up to realise he’s gay, bisexual or queer. His admiration for characters like Deltron and Green Poncho are definitely crushes that he mistakes for a strong sudden and eager desire for friendship.

-       Kelsey probably grows up to realise she is nonbinary, a trans boy or a WLW. I mostly headcanon this because I relate to her a lot and I’m nonbinary and queer so I said so. She reminds me a lot of myself as a kid. She throws herself into books, mostly fantasy for escapism. She fantasises and writes a lot for the same reasons. She dresses like a tomboy (She always wears her hair up in the same bun which strongly reminds me of my own childhood hair dysphoria) and she hangs out solely with male friends.

-       JP gives me strong trans lesbian vibes, or to a lesser extent nonbinary vibes. (I know his sister is WLW coded but take it from me there can be more than one queer in a family). He is interested in girls, specifically Maney the horse girl (he even joined the horse girls for one episode). He wears a long V-neck shirt that is essentially a dress ALL the time. He’s aware that he’s different and while self conscious sometimes, mostly just wants to express himself the way he wants to. He also chooses to go by initials JP over his very gendered name Johnathan Paul (In a recent episode he names a ship after himself, calling it “The SS Johnathon Paulina”).

-       (Sidenote if you do start watching this show and I see any nasty shipping of these characters in non puppy-love fashion so help me god)

 Other reasons

-       The show is at times very intertextual and references Princess Mononoke, Super Smash Brothers, Sailor Moon, Lord of the Rings, and a billion other things. It also has some fun cameos, including background images of the Tres Horny Boys from The Adventure Zone, a TARDIS from Doctor Who, and a Cookie Cat from Steven Universe.

-       Honestly, this post hasn’t done the best job explaining why I love this show so much. You honestly just have to watch an episode to understand fully what I’m talking about, so give it a go! Watch The Curse at least, it only goes for 10 minutes.

[itsclydebitches]

Lovely Good Omens fandom! Many of you have asked for/mentioned having a text version of the Yelp reviews, which if I were a better person I would have remembered to include in the first place. Better late than never? So here’s a version below and I also threw this up on AO3 so there are options. For the record, I’m not at all trained in transcribing visual media, so if anyone wants to add to/edit/do whatever to this post, especially to make it more accessible, you have carte blanche to do so 👍

Also I typed this up in a hurry so, as always, apologies for any typos. 

Tagging: @lethargicdolphin, @marithlizard, @pearwaldorf

A.Z. Fell and Co. Antiquarian and Unusual Books 

Recommended Reviews 

Lindsay F. 

London, United Kingdom 

71 friends

3000 reviews

9874 photos

So I slipped into this place because I spotted my ex across the street and would have rather chugged a cocktail of bleach, lighter fluid, and a condensed solution of all my middle school years then talk to that asshole. Owner was on me the second I walked through the door and I thought he was gonna be one of those ‘Either buy something or get out’ types. Nah. I spilled the story, said I really wasn’t looking to purchase anything, and he LIT UP like nobody’s business. He gave me tea and promised I’d never run into my ex again. Which is a super sketchy promise on its own and also should have been hilarious coming from a guy a century behind in style.

...Kinda believed him though. 

Marina G. 

London, United Kingdom 

0 friends

33 reviews

48 photos

Pretty sure this guy wants a library, not a bookshop. I mean, he’s nice and all when you first come in, but trying to actually buy a book? Good fucking luck. He’s too busy to see you right now (for the record he’s super bad at pretending to be busy). Or claims that this book has already been put on reserve (then why wasn’t it in the reserve pile...?). Or the price suddenly jumped an obscene amount. Or he just straight up hems and haws until you get fed up and leave. I watched him pull a novel straight out of a woman’s hands once when she claimed that price was no object and she wouldn’t be leaving the store until she’d purchased it. You’d think she was trying to kidnap one of the guy’s kids!

So yeah. Feel like popping in to browse, maybe take pictures for your research, all while making quiet conversation with someone who quite frankly knows his stuff? This is the place for you. Want to actually buy something? Go elsewhere. Pretty sure Fell doesn’t even own a cash register. At least I’ve never seen one. 

He wants a library and I’d honestly tell him as much if he didn’t scare me just a little bit...

Aaron S. 

New York, NY

68 friends

212 reviews 

337 photos

I stayed here for three days once. Found a bathroom off the romance section and a chair hidden away in the back. Way comfier than my mattress at home. Mostly played iPhone games and kept real quiet at night. Experiment ended when I popped out for breakfast and didn’t make it back before a random 10:00am closing. Don’t think the owner ever realized what was up. 

Hana S. 

London, United Kingdom 

112 friends

115 reviews

208 photos

I really love this place. I’ve been coming here since I moved to London, about twelve years ago, and it’s one of the most soothing bookstores I’ve ever had the pleasure of visiting. Yeah, you hear talk of weird things going on at Fell’s, but really? We could all do with a bit more quirky in our lives. And Fell provides that in spades: Annual plants that never seem to wither, let alone die. The smell of incense mixing with cocoa. Strange books tucked horizontally into the shelves, feeling like they have a touch of magic to them. Nonsensical conversations taking place in dark corners (I’m talking candid chats about the apocalypse and whether angels could actually bless all the rains down in Africa. I swear Fell and his boyfriend are the religion Mythbusters or something.) I’m going to sound like a total nerd here for a moment, but it feels like some sort of liminal space. You know when you were a kid and you were just desperate to receive your Hogwarts letter? Or find your own wardrobe to Narnia? That’s what walking into Fell’s feels like. Like you’ve finally found that portal and can stay as long as you like, provided you don’t try to take anything back with you into the ‘real’ world. Hell, maybe that’s why he won’t let anyone buy his books. 

Robert T. 

Union City, CA

4 friends

26 reviews

3 photos

There’s a snake?? In this shop?? A reALLY MASSIVE SNAKE????? What are y’all doing talkin’ about your meet cutes and shit someone call pest control!

Malini D. 

London, United Kingdom 

0 friends

48 reviews

99 photos

I’m not gonna pretend I have anything to say about whether this is a good bookstore or not, but if you ever want knitting help you should definitely stop by. Mr. Fell knows an absurd amount about crafts for a guy who looks like my grandpa and he’s now replaced Youtube as my go-to for alleviating “Omg please fix this how the hell did I manage to reverse the pattern??” panic. For the record, I didn’t just wander up to a random bookseller one day and demand that he help me salvage the ruins of my first sweater. I’d taken a seat inside to wait out a storm, had my messy sleeve stuffed into my purse, and he’d offered the help. Bit of a bastard about things like gauge and color--not everyone wants to wear tartan, dude--but you get used to that. He means well. Said I should come back to show him the finished piece, which I did. Things just kind of spiraled from there. He’s an absolute treasure trove of knowledge once you get him talking and a muffin to boot. If he were twenty years younger and in any way straight I would have asked him out in a heartbeat. As it is I’m considering setting him up with Grandpa. 

Tiffany L. 

London, United Kingdom 

132 friends

312 reviews

34 photos

I’m not really a book person myself but I followed my wife in with our seventh-month old and was kinda embarrassed when he started making a fuss. Normally I’m full Badass Mom mode while in public--I’ve got a kid to feed, change, sooth, and you all can damn well deal with it--but this place was so quiet Liam seemed extra loud in comparison. I was about to take him back out when a man appeared out of nowhere. The owner I guess, based on how some of these other reviews describe him. Older gentleman with clothes out of some period piece. Anyway, he scoops Liam into his arms like he was born for it and started bouncing. Our fussy, temperamental, drama queen Liam settled in an instant and my wife got to browse to her heart’s content. I don’t know how he did it, but that man is an absolute angel. Full stars for that moment alone. 

Gillian L. 

The Hague, The Netherlands

283 friends

256 reviews

60 photos

Anyone know if the old Bentley parked out front is for sale? 

Update: It’s really, really, really not 

Billy H. 

Austen, TX

40 friends

2073 reviews

774 photos

QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS QUEER BOOKS SO MANY QUEER BOOKS!!!

Gabriela G. 

London, United Kingdom

3 friends

22 reviews

1 photos

Run by this delightfully frumpy guy who sometimes hands out biscuits from a sewing tin like my gran used to. He asked me if I was looking for anything in particular and I told him my name was Jared, I was 19, but sadly I’d never learned how to read. I have NEVER seen a man more confused in my life. 10/10 would meme him again. 

Colie A.

Enola, PA

201 friends

2778 reviews

10382 photos

I’m setting the record straight here since there are a bunch of reviews claiming it’s just London folklore: there is a snake at A.Z. Fell’s. Must be an exotic pet he usually keeps upstairs because I’ve only ever seen it twice. Is it big? Yes. Scary? Fuck yes, but I’ve never seen it do anything more than give a warning hiss at this drunk who wandered in and started yelling. (Are snakes good guard dogs? This one is.) The other time he was just chilling on top of one of the shelves. Snoozing, I guess. I asked Mr. Fell if I could pet him and he said maybe after he woke up, but then I had to get to class and all. 

Afraid of snakes? Steer clear. Otherwise I’d really recommend popping in and seeing if he’s around. Idk, maybe I’m just a snake fan but he looks super sweet and chill. Life is short. Boop the snake snoot. 

Jeremy W. 

London, United Kingdom 

86 friends

409 reviews

12 photos

I live down the street from A.Z. Fell’s and let me tell you, this place is spooky as fuck. All sorts of weird lights and noises coming from it. At all times of the day and night too. Either this bowtie wearing bookworm has one crazy sex life or the place is haunted. Jury’s out on which. 

Heather Ki. 

London, United Kingdom 

0 friends

3852 reviews

1 photos

This shop smells. Not that old book smell either, oh no, but like something is molding. I took my little Johnny in here to try and get him interested in something other than those damned video games and I walk into what smells like a whole cloud of toxic mold! My boy has a weak constitution as it is and if he comes down with anything I will be pressing charges, you mark my words. 

Jo. W. 

London, United Kingdom 

32 friends

410 reviews

61 photos

Hey, does anyone want to talk about the fact that this place burned down last month? As in, completely up in flames, I saw it happen, nothing but a smoking husk afterwards? Does no one else remember this??

Tiggi N. 

London, United Kingdom 

32 friends

33 reviews

24 photos

Has anyone read this guy’s opening hours? I included a photo above: “I open the shop on most days about 9:30AM perhaps 10:AM. While occasionally I have opened the shop as early as 8, I have been known not to open until 1.” Absolutely insane. This guy’s a madman and I love him. If anyone actually manages to get into this place please let me know because I need to shake Fell’s hand. 

Mackenzie J. 

City Centre, Manchester, United Kingdom 

807 friends

2592 reviews

13218 photos

I told my girlfriend this shop’s got a snake named Anthony and she didn’t believe me. Going back for proof next week. 

Update: got the snake selfie!!!!!!!!

Penny O. 

Chicago, IL

87 friends

557 reviews

16 photos

Caught the owner snogging some hot twink behind the cookbooks. Well done, my dude. 

[acedesigns]

Precious [Good Omens: Aziraphale X Reader]

Word Count: 4225

Warnings: Alcohol mention, sexual harassment mention, minimal editing, politics, death mention

A/N: Woot, this is my 100th fanfic post for Good Omens. This was heavily inspired by my time running for political office.

--

Politics had always made him a bit squeamish. He has seen time and time again the death that it can cause. If two leaders didn’t get along, then citizens would be killed. It was no wonder politics was basically a nest squirming with demons. That was why, despite his dislike for it, Aziraphale found himself wandering around a political event, keeping an eye on demons that weren’t in his arrangement.

Everyone was gathering in the auditorium. They each had a voter card with their precinct number, voting district, and name. The political party they were in didn’t matter, they were all in the same party, after all. And while he didn’t necessarily agree with everything this party did, they were certainly better than the conservatives.

The session was already fully underway. Now, the party was trying to make sure every position had someone running. A list was projected onto the screen for what positions were still vacant and its basic description. There was a section for city council. He looked around at the crowd, wondering if anyone would volunteer when the time came. One by one, the leader of the group went down the list. Then, almost immediately after she said city council, a voice shouted, “I’ll do it!”

He looked over and saw you stand up in the auditorium. You held your head high and shoulder back as you made your way down the steps and towards the stage. He was shocked to see such a young individual volunteer to run for office.

When you made it to the stage, you exchanged words with the leader, giving her your name. She then spoke into the microphone and handed it off to you for an improvisational speech.

“Hello, my name is [Y/N], and I am running for city council,” you spoke with such confidence that it appeared you were already a well-seasoned politician. “I am honored to have this privilege in connecting with you today. It is my goal to also make sure that we connect our amazing city to the ample amount of options available to us. We can connect our power grid to clean, renewable resources. No longer will we have to rely on dirty, Earth-killing factories. We can connect all of our citizens to high-speed networks. Our citizens will be able to call for help, work on school projects, and search for jobs with this network. We can connect our most vulnerable communities to the resources they need to survive. As a queer individual, I know the struggles we go through in feeling accepted.”

You paused as the audience erupted in cheers at you mentioning you being queer. Aziraphale found himself smiling at the warm reception you were receiving. He began clapping along with the rest of the crowd. Once it quieted down, you continued, “But I cannot do this alone. Together, we must connect with our community, gather support, and get out to the polls later this year! My name is [Y/N] and I am running for city council.”

You bowed slightly and waved as the crowd grew louder. It was the loudest they’ve been thus far. Aziraphale watched as you made your way off stage and sat back in the chair you originally came from. He tried to sense if there was any demonic intervention going on, given with the near-perfect speech you gave, but there was nothing. Throughout the rest of the event, he kept an eye on you just to be sure.

He stood up once everyone was dismissed and made his way over to you. He was curious as to what would drive you to run for office, especially at the age where individuals weren’t too keen on politics.

You were speaking with some other individuals. Given your more reserved body posture, he could tell you didn’t know the people. They shook your hand and took a selfie with you before thanking you and leaving. You sighed slightly and wiped your brow with the back of your hand. It was only then, he noticed you looked a sickly pale.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he approached you.

You looked at him and nodded but stumbled while standing so slightly. “I-I uh, I am going to the hospital after I’m done here.”

“Goodness!” Aziraphale eyes widened in alarm. “Do you need someone to take you there?”

You held a hand up to your mouth and turned away from him. For a moment, he thought you were going to be sick. For a moment, you thought you were going to be, too. Then, you turned back to him, after having seemingly swallowed down the vomit before nodding your head sheepishly. “Yes, probably.”

“Just one moment! Let me call my friend and he can take us,” Aziraphale hesitated before he miracled a cellphone in his pocket and dialed Crowley’s friend. He spoke quickly in the phone before he hung up. “He’ll be here soon. Do you want to sit down?”

You nodded and staggered over to a nearby seat. “Thanks,” you grumbled and sat up straight when you noticed other people looking. “Sorry, I should be more professional.”

“Professional?” Aziraphale chuckled as he made sure you were comfortable. “If you’re going to the hospital, I’d say I’m amazed you’re still concerned over what others are thinking. May I ask what’s wrong?”

“Food poisoning,” you grunted and wiped your brow once more, the nausea was making you feel hot. “I’ve had it for a couple of weeks, now.”

“And you came here?” Aziraphale was stunned at how you held yourself on stage while being so sick.

“I had to,” you mumbled.

“And why’s that?”

You looked up at him and sighed. “This city is so broken. None of the other politicians are doing anything about it. They’re all just being bought. I was so angry when I figured I’d fix it myself if no one else would.”

“That’s very admirable and brave.”

You chuckled lightly. “Brave is just another word for stupid.”

“Hopeful, but not stupid,” he said when he felt his phone vibrate. “He’s here. Let’s get you to the doctor, shall we?”

--

“Are you sure your people haven’t tempted them with anything, Crowley?” Aziraphale asked while he was getting ready to attend one of your political events.

“Positive,” Crowley hummed while lounging on Aziraphale’s couch. “The only ones that would have would have been Hastur or Ligur, and they haven’t been here for a while. ‘Course, that’s not to say that they won’t try something.”

“Yes, then I shall keep an eye on them!” Aziraphale straightened his bow-tie and glanced in the mirror.

Crowley smirked as the angel was fretting over his appearance. “To make sure they don’t get tempted or for your own personal reasons?”

“Personal reasons?” Aziraphale turned to the demon with a stunned expression. “What sort of personal reasons would I have?”

“I’d say you fancy them,” Crowley said smugly. “I’d say you have a crush on them!”

Aziraphale cheeks were tinted red. “I do not have a crush on them!” He turned back towards the mirror and fixed his hair before applying some cologne. “I simply enjoy their company, is all.” Crowley snorted. “And that is all! Now, if you’ll excuse me. I must get going.”

Crowley followed Aziraphale out of the bookshop. As Aziraphale was locking up, Crowley started to walk away and yelled, “Enjoy your date!”

--

You were at the event, and you were already dreading being there. You glanced around nervously while trying to keep a polite smile on your face. Someone that had been harassing you was going to be there. You honestly hoped he wouldn’t show up, but you knew he would.

“[Y/N], my dear! How are you?” You jumped and turned before relaxing at who it was.

“I’m doing well, Aziraphale. How are you?” you asked with a smile that was no longer forced.

“Tip-top!” Aziraphale grinned. “Are you ready for tonight? You always ace your speeches!”

You laughed lightly. “I wouldn’t say that, but thank you.”

“There they are!” a voice called from behind you. You stiffened and swallowed down some fear. Aziraphale frowned at the sudden change in your mood. “[Y/N]! It’s me!”

You slowly turned and the corners of your mouth twitched as you tried to force yourself to smile. “Hello, Richard.”

“It’s so nice to see you,” he said while looking you up and down. He stepped forward and opened his arms out wide.

Aziraphale stepped forward. “I’m afraid [Y/N] has actually injured themselves, so hugging is painful for them right now.”

You glanced at Aziraphale before smoothly nodding and following along with his lie. “Yes, I pulled a muscle. Sorry.”

Richard frowned while trying to decide if he wanted to force you to hug him anyway. “Alright. Why don’t we get a drink before this thing starts? There’s some beer.”

“No thank you,” you said with a tone that said you were trying to be polite, but he could die for all you cared. You turned away from the man that was making you skin crawl and towards Aziraphale. “How is your bookshop doing?”

"I only read comic books,” the man said and tried to force himself between you and Aziraphale.

Aziraphale gave him an incredulous look before looking back at you. “Doing quite well! I procured the most fascinating book a few days ago. I’ll have to show you the next time you stop by!”

“We should go together, [Y/N],” the man butted in once more. “It’ll be a date.”

Aziraphale glanced down to your left hand that was clenching into a fist. Your knuckles were turning white. Your nostrils flared as you tried to take in some deep breaths to calm yourself. With a tight smile, you looked at Richard. “I’m too busy.”

Richard shrugged, “Find some time, then.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Aziraphale finally had it. “But I’m afraid that they declined already and are simply too polite to straight up tell you to beat it. However, with them running for political office, they cannot afford to be what could be considered rude. Though, with your behavior, I would hardly consider it rude if they did tell you to bugger off.”

Richard turned towards you with a scowl. “Are you going to let him talk to me like that, [Y/N]?”

“No, he’s right,” you snapped and glared over at Richard. “Take the hint.”

Richard’s scowl darkened. “Why won’t you go out with me? It’s just one date. We’ll just go to the bar.”

“Why? So you can try to get me drunk and take advantage of me? No. I said no. Accept it. I don’t owe you anything. You’re not even in my voting district.” You grabbed Aziraphale by the arm and dragged him away from a stewing Richard. “I’m sorry about that, Aziraphale.”

"Don’t be,” Aziraphale puffed and straightened his jacket. “If we weren’t at a political event, I would have said some stronger things! Perhaps even cursed!”

Laughter bubbled out of you and tears welled up in your eyes at the idea of the cheery man actually cursing someone out. You leaned against Aziraphale to keep yourself propped upright. Aziraphale chuckled with a soft smile. Then, he paused. His cheeks warmed. In his mind, he did actually curse. Crowley was right.

--

The bell to the bookshop rang. Aziraphale glanced up from a book he was reading and automatically felt his heart quicken. He watched as you softly closed the door behind you and turned towards him. You gave him a small smile.

“Mind if I hang out here for a bit?” you asked. “I need a break.”

“Of course not!” Aziraphale closed his book and put it back where he found it. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Please.”

Aziraphale nodded and motioned for you to follow him. He put the kettle on and prepared the tea just the way you liked it. “What is it that you need a break from, [Y/N]?”

You sat down on the couch and rolled your head back so you were staring at the ceiling. “My opponent attacked me on social media. She said I was too childish because I still live with my parents. I can’t afford to move out and my dad has that heart issue, so I don’t know how much longer he’ll be around for.”

Aziraphale frowned and nodded. “That’s completely understandable. And one living with one’s parents does not say anything about their maturity level.”

“Yeah,” you hummed. With a sigh, you continued, “I was ready for her to attack me. I have more campaign contributions than her and am garnering more support than her. But there was just…like…This little voice in my head tempting me to attack her back and say these awful things. I had to just take a break and clear my head, you know?”

Aziraphale froze. He glanced over at you with a thoughtful look. Then, the phone started ringing. “Excuse me,” Aziraphale apologized and picked up the receiver already having an idea of who was calling. “Hello?”

“Aziraphale, it’s me,” Crowley’s voice sounded on the other line.

“Crowley.”

“They’ve targeted them,” Crowley warned. “Hastur tried to tempt them earlier. It didn’t work, but he might try again.”

“Yes, I’m already well aware of that,” Aziraphale mumbled and turned to face you while you started to play with a loose string on your cardigan. “Is there a way to stop it from happening?”

“You know as much as me, angel. Just try to balance it out with miracles.”

“Right. Thank you, Crowley.” He hung up the phone just in time for the kettle to start whistling. He quickly made his way over towards it and began to pour the hot water out into two mugs.

“How’s Crowley?”

“Hmm? Oh, fine, fine. He was just telling me about something that happened to him. Nothing, really.” He made his way over with a mug of tea. “Here you are, my dear.” He sat down next to you, opting to not sit in his chair as usual. “You know, I was thinking. Perhaps you could put a positive spin on how your opponent attacked you. Maybe say why it’s a good thing you’re a young candidate. It’s not a bad thing. You have fresh ideas that no one has ever had! You understand how the future the world is heading in better than anyone.”

You took a sip of the tea, it somehow being the perfect temperature after just boiling. For a moment or two, you simply pondered over what Aziraphale had said. Then, you dug out your phone and started typing away. “That’s a good idea. Thank you.”

Aziraphale smiled with a certain gleam in his eyes before taking a drink of his own beverage.

--

There was a death in your family and you were absolutely torn up about it. You had spent the entire night crying. When you woke up that morning, you told yourself you weren’t allowed to cry. You had a political event to attend. If your opponent caught wind that you were a wreck, she’d only attack you for it.

With a slow exhale, you got out of your car and walked towards the building you’d be giving the same old speech in. Aziraphale was already there. He looked at you with a sad smile.

“How are you doing?” he asked and greeted you with a warm hug.

“I want to cry,” you croaked and clung onto him. He was the only thing keeping you grounded at that moment.

“It’s alright to cry, my dear.”

“Not when there are people here,” you reminded yourself more than him and pulled away. “I can’t cry right now.”

He watched you and nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I have to do.”

“Alright. How about after this we go back to my shop so you can decompress?”

You looked down at your feet and nodded. “I’d like that.”

Aziraphale watched as you interacted with people. He stayed close in case you needed him for comfort or to get you out of a conversation. Though, you didn’t. You remained strong. Sure, your responses might have been shorter, but you managed to smile politely.

Finally, the even was over. You made your way towards Aziraphale. He offered his arm out towards you which you gladly took. He led both of you towards the bookshop. It was a silent walk; you didn’t really have that much to say. Aziraphale allowed you the time to get more acquainted with his thoughts. Though, the moment you made it in the bookshop and he locked the door, you collapsed onto the ground.

Aziraphale hurried towards you and wrapped you up in his arms. Tears poured out. You bawled and clung onto him for dear life. “I want her back,” you wailed. “I want her back!”

“I know, I know,” Aziraphale hushed and rocked you back and forth.

"I just want to wake up. This can’t be real.”

You ended up crying yourself to sleep in his arms.

--

There was about one month of the election season left. Since the first couple of months of the campaign, you had gone from being extremely sick from food poisoning, being sexually harassed by random guys (that was still going on), losing a loved one, being sick just about every week to sitting in Aziraphale’s bookshop. You sat with your feet tucked underneath you on the couch. A hot mug of tea was in your hands. There was also a blanket around your shoulders that Aziraphale had placed there. Aziraphale was busy helping a customer.

Though, there was something nagging at you. You couldn’t help but think that so many of the people you had become acquainted with, perhaps even friends with, were just using you. It was eating away at you. You felt that after the election they’d all just leave you. With a sigh, you put your mug down on a coaster on the end table and stood from the couch.

Aziraphale had just finished convincing a customer to leave without a book. He pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance at almost losing something so valuable to him. Then, he felt a sudden weight hit his side. He glanced down and smiled slightly seeing you had just headbutted him.

“What was that for?” he asked and still watched you as your head didn’t move away from him. You grumbled to yourself. “Sorry?”

You pushed yourself off of him and looked up at him with a slightly guilty and embarrassed look. “I show affection through headbutts.”

Aziraphale chuckled with a light blush. “So I am worthy of your affection?”

“Yeah,” you admitted. “It’s a very high honor, you know?”

“It certainly is.”

“I…” you started and paused as you tried to gather your words. “I’ve been having some thoughts.”

“Oh?” Aziraphale’s eyebrows bunched together in concern. “What kind of thoughts?”

“Are you going to not want to talk to me after the election?” you asked quietly and bit your lip. You refused to make eye contact with him.

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. He held his mouth open in shock. “No, of course not! Did I do something to make you think I would?”

You shook your head. “No. I just…I can’t help thinking that people won’t want anything to do with me when this is all over.”

Aziraphale frowned. It sounded like the work of a demon. With a deep breath, Aziraphale took your hand. “I promise I won’t do that, [Y/N]. You are far too precious to me.”

Your eyes darted up to meet his. A blush slowly formed on your face. You felt your heart skip a beat. A warmth started to spread from your chest through the rest of your body. It was a warmth that made you feel giddy, excited, but also calm. Your thoughts slowly started to wonder if it was love that you were feeling.

“Thank you, Aziraphale,” you murmured softly. “Can I hug you?”

Aziraphale nodded with a light chuckle. A blush of his own started to form as he held you to him tightly. He lightly inhaled your scent, allowing him this one moment to be selfish.

--

You were holding a mental health seminar. There was a crisis happening in the world where people tended to stigmatize mental illnesses. It wasn’t right and it was costing lives. And although you knew you wouldn’t win this election, you thought that you could perhaps make a difference. So you invited mental health professionals to the seminar to discuss what mental illness is, what contributes to it, and how to treat it.

“I’m so proud of you, my dear,” Aziraphale greeted you with a hug after the seminar had ended.

“Thank you,” you whispered and shyly looked to the side.

“Really, you are making a tremendous difference,” he spoke so sure of himself. “I am so, so very proud of you.” He took a hold of both of your hands and swung it back and forth with a soft smile on his face.

You just barely kept yourself from crying at the overwhelming emotions that filled your heart. Instead, you laughed as his arms swung faster. The warmth was back. You were definitely in love with him.

--

About a week after the seminar, Aziraphale had called you. He sounded scared. Immediately, you dropped what you were doing and rushed to his bookshop. When you opened the door, you heard him sniffling in the backroom. You ran towards him. He was sitting in a chair, with his face in his hands.

"Aziraphale, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” you asked and knelt down in front of him.

Aziraphale sat up and rubbed his eyes. He looked at you with a heartbroken frown. His eyes were red and puffy. His breathing stuttered every so often as he tried to collect himself.

“I have to be honest with you,” Aziraphale spoke quietly. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I didn’t know how, but now I realize I’ve been far too selfish.”

“Tell me what?” You were starting to panic. Was he sick? Was he dying?

“I understand if you don’t believe me. But I have proof if you need it. The truth is,” he paused and another sob escaped him. “I don’t want to lose you,” he gasped out and rubbed his eyes again before breaking down.

“Lose me? You’re not going to lose me,” you comforted and wrapped your arms around him. “I promise you won’t lose me.”

Aziraphale buried his face in the crook of your neck. He stayed there in your arms until he calmed down. He pulled away and took a deep breath. White wings shot out from his back and folded in. “I’m an angel,” he said suddenly.

You blinked and looked at him in shock. He looked absolutely terrified and broken. You reached your hand up towards his face. He flinched and clenched his eyes shut. Slowly, you cupped his cheek and rubbed away his tears with your thumb.

"You’re not going to lose me,” you promised.

Aziraphale opened his eyes and looked at you with wonder. “I’m not?”

"Of course not,” you hummed with a smile. “You are far too precious to me.”

--

It was the night of the election. You had reluctantly gone to a watch party. You knew you weren’t going to win, but your supporters wanted you to show up. Still, you had set up an escape. You had plans with Aziraphale that you would leave the party for.

After thanking everyone for their support, you quickly dashed out of the bar. You got in your car and drove through London to get to where you were meeting him.  He said he wanted you to meet him at St James’ Park. When you parked, you made your way towards the gazebo. Though, you paused when you got there.

There was a trail of candles and flower petals leading off the path. You slowly followed it with your heart hammering. A blush had already started to form on your face and burned hotter than the candles. When you got to the end, you looked up and saw Aziraphale standing there with a nervous look. He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. On the ground next to him, was a picnic basket. You walked up to him with your eyebrows raised.

“What’s this all about?” you asked quietly.

Aziraphale adjusted his bowtie. “Well, I wanted to celebrate all of your hard work and how much you have accomplished this year.” He took a deep breath. “I also wanted to tell you just how important you are to me.”

You sniffled and wiped away a tear that had started to fall. “Oh?” You were finally right in front of him.

He took one of your hand and lovingly rubbed his thumb in circles. “I am amazed by how strong, intelligent, and caring you are. Getting to know you has been one of the best things I have ever experienced. And…And I realized that I have fallen in love with you. I love you.”

You laughed and threw your arms around his neck. He immediately wrapped both of his arms around your waist and held you in an embrace. “I love you,” you hiccupped through your tears of joy.

[exercisingmyinnerwriter]

Staubrey: Flood, Chapter 1

Change from canon: Stacie went on the USO tour with the Bellas and Beca actually told Chloe how she felt after the competition. I should probably watch the third movie at some point, but really, I just want to live in that happy little bubble where Bechloe is A Thing and heteronormative bullshit and queer baiting from Warner doesn’t exist.

“Isn’t it better to tell her how you feel?” Aubrey asked. “Get it all out into the open? If she says no, you move on with your life, you heal, you get over it. It’ll suck, yeah, but at least you won’t be in this limbo. But you’ll never know if she’d say yes if you don’t take the risk.”

Beca dragged her eyes away from Chloe across the bar and back to Aubrey. Emily, Stacie, Jessica, and Ashley all nodded agreement with the blonde’s hushed words of encouragement. With one final glance at each of their faces, Beca took a deep breath. She blew it out with a firm nod before standing up and striding over to tell her best friend that she was in love with her.

~A~

The rain sheeted down, definitively ending the Georgian drought as only the remnants of a dying hurricane could. A lone figure tramped up through the rivulets of mud that had once been the paths of The Lodge at Fallen Leaves, finally reaching the relative safety of the cabin. Aubrey Posen dragged her hood back and shucked her rain gear off while still on the porch, being careful to shake as much mud and water off of each piece before taking them inside. Aubrey grabbed the towel that she’d left by the door and began drying off while running down the To Do list she’d written out over the last few days while preparing for the storm.

“Reservations rescheduled or transfered,” she mumbled, “food, water, gas, oil all stocked. Generators ready to go. Truck in the garage, sand bags made, put out, holding up well.” The tall blonde moved further into the cabin as she continued triple checking that everything was done. As long as she’d done everything she could to lock down the retreat, there would be nothing left but a nature-created few days off in which she could indulge in sleeping in, reading, and a few long, hot baths, and plenty of tea and hot chocolate. Aubrey pushed away the niggling doubt that she had still forgotten something by going over her list yet again.

The cabin had weathered many similar storms over the years Mr. and Mrs. Davis, the previous owners, had assured her when they heard of the storm coming. Aubrey appreciated that they were so willing to keep in touch and offer their advice and wisdom since she had finally purchased the retreat from them officially earlier that year. They had come to be like family to Aubrey over the few years she had worked under them. She fished her phone out of her pocket, dialing them up to assure them that the lake had yet to overflow its banks, but that yes, the sandbags were already lining Fallen Leaves Creek for when that inevitably spilled over later. Yes, the fire department knew she was staying at the lodge and yes, she had a canoe ready, just in case she needed to rescue herself.

They had nothing new to add to her list and so, with a resigned sigh, Aubrey set about her evening routine, several hours earlier than usual. Workout, stretch, shower, food. She hesitated in front of the fridge, that doubt about missing something flashing through her mind again. Aubrey chewed her lip, trying desperately to remember what it was and why she couldn’t remember it, but it was gone again. She closed the fridge and opened it again, as if that act alone could summon up the stray thought so she could examine it.

A knock on the door made Aubrey nearly jump out of her skin with a yelp. Then it clicked. She’d never called Stacie. Never let her know that they were closing the Lodge this week. Aubrey bolted to the door and threw it open and, sure enough, Stacie Conrad stood on her porch. She knew her jaw was hanging open because Stacie only chuckled. “It’s, uh, a bit wet out here, Captain,” Stacie said by way of greeting, indicating the torrential downpour behind her. “I hope you don’t mind but I pulled my Sub in next to the truck. Figured it was the best place for it.”

“I never called you,” Aubrey said quietly. “I am so sorry.”

Stacie raised an eyebrow, looking at the blonde curiously. “Were you supposed to?” she asked. “I meant to text when I left my apartment, but honestly forgot. Wanted to get here before the roads got bad. They’ve, well, they’ve gotten bad.”

Aubrey blinked a few times before realizing her friend was still standing on the porch. “Jesus Stace, come in, get dry,” she said, waving her Stacie in and stepping aside. “Did you make it safe?” she asked.

It was Stacie’s turn to blink. After a moment, she shrugged, and deposited the bags that Aubrey hadn’t noticed yet. “I mean, I’m here. Definitely not a drive I want to repeat right now, but nothing’s flooded out yet. Ground is a bit too dry and the rain is just pouring over the dirt without really sinking in, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the flooding is bad but recedes quick, you know? You alright, Aubs?” She removed her boots and raincoat before grabbing the offered towel.

“I meant to call,” Aubrey responded with a wince, by way of explanation.  “We rescheduled everyone for the week and closed down. You’ll be stuck here.”

Stacie simply shrugged. “I’ve got off this week, remember? I needed a break from the lab and I’d rather spend it here, flooded in with my friend, than alone in my apartment,” she said. After a moment, she froze, “Unless, of course, I’m cock-blocking you,” she added quickly, glancing around to assure herself that they were, in fact, alone in the cabin.

Aubrey glanced around her cabin too, confused. “Cock-blocking?” she muttered before shaking herself out of it. “It’s good you’re here, Stace. I’m glad you came, even though it was a stupid thing to do in this weather.”

“Aww you do care,” Stacie said, throwing her arms around Aubrey and pulling her into a hug. “God, I’ve missed you. I brought wine, fancy cheese, and some movies, since I figured we won’t be doing much stuff outside given the weather.” She kissed the blonde on the cheek before grabbing the bags of supplies and hauling them into the kitchen space, separated out from the rest of the open floor plan by the counter.

It took Aubrey a few moments to readjust her mental plans for the week. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that Stacie was supposed to come and that the other woman had planned on making use of the spa facilities and time on the lake while Aubrey worked, and that they were going to hang out in the evenings once Aubrey was done with her daily duties. Somehow, she’d gotten her weeks mixed up because she could have sworn that Stacie was coming next week. Luckily, Stacie being around didn’t really change Aubrey’s plans too much. She still planned on sleeping in, reading, and taking long, hot baths; she knew Stacie wouldn’t mind and probably had plenty of reading of her own to do. Her mental readjustments made, Aubrey finally breathed a relaxed sigh.

She helped Stacie unpack the bags, grabbing a cutting board, cheese knife, and a selection of crackers to go with the cheese, olives, sausages, and other assorted finger foods that Stacie had brought for them. Stacie fetched wine glasses, a bottle opener, and the stack of movies before they headed to the couch. “Let’s see. I was feeling the fantasy, sci-fi vibes so I grabbed a weird selection,” Stacie mumbled, laying out the choices on the low coffee table. “Gattaca, 1997, Uma Thurman, Ethan Hawke. Uh. Galaxy Quest, 1999, Tim Allen, Sigourney Weaver, Alan Rickman, I know you like him,” she said, pointing to each one. “Alien, 1979, because Sigourney Weaver again. A Knight’s Tale, 2001, Heath Ledger and a bombshell cast, both of the new Star Wars films, since I know you haven’t seen them yet, the first Hobbit-”

“Do I have to have seen Lord of the Rings before I see the Hobbit movies?” Aubrey cut in. Stacie’s horrified gasp made her glance up. She almost laughed at how scandalized the other woman looked, but managed to bite her cheek. She held up a hand, stalling Stacie’s next comment. “Yes, I’m serious. No, I’ve never seen them.” This time she did laugh when Stacie’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head.

“That’s it,” Stacie said, sweeping the other movies off of the coffee table and onto the floor. “We are watching The Fellowship of the Ring. Extended edition.”

Aubrey’s eyes crawled up her forehead. “Extended? That’s a thing?” she asked bemused, but Stacie shushed her and went back to the door to grab her overnight bag. She watched in fascination as the other woman dragged her laptop out and pulled up the movie before plugging her computer into the TV. “Didn’t realize my TV could do that,” she mused, never really using it for much with her full work schedule. Stacie disappeared for a moment, so Aubrey took the opportunity to open up the bottle of wine and pour out a glass for each of them and start slicing into the cheese. She barked with laughter when the other woman reappeared with the blankets and pillows off of her bed and dumped them onto the couch.

“It’s six PM now,” Stacie said, glancing at her watch. “Unless we decide to pause halfway through to get more snacks, or make real food, we should be done around ten, which isn’t too bad, if I do say so myself. You might want a bathroom run now, before we get started,” she added as an afterthought. “Also I stole one of your flannels.”

Aubrey was speechless for a moment. “Four hours?” she repeated slowly, making sure she had calculated that right.

“Yeah. And two more after that. You’re lucky I’m not making you watch all three right now. Go pee and then get your cute butt back here. We have an adventure to go on.”

AO3 Link

[artificialqueens]

So Emotional (Sashea) Chapter 3 -MissChimKi

A/N: It’s been a minute. School has started full time for me again and I’m still working, but I’m going to try to update like every other week. I also have a few other projects I’m working on as well. I’m going to try to finish this before I start any other chaptered works though. Anyways I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Summary:

That wasn’t really the problem though. Sasha could admire the beauty of others without feeling attracted to them. Most of her friend group were beautiful queer girls and she hadn’t even thought about hooking up with them. The problem was her undeniable connection with Shea. In not even a month of knowing her it felt like a lifetime. Even though she didn’t know this huge part of Sasha’s life, she still knew about almost everything else. They related on a personal level that Sasha had never experienced with anyone else before. They could talk for hours on end and Sasha had never had a friend like her. .

In which Sasha and Shea are roommates for their freshman year of college and Sasha is a useless lesbian who doesn’t want Shea to know that and Shea is just trying to live her best Chicago life while being in NYC.

Sasha’s day to day routine was becoming second nature now. Almost a month into school and she finally felt like she had it down pat. It wasn’t necessarily hard, school had never been hard for her, but it was a lot. It required a delicate balance and Sasha could admit she was struggling with it a little. She hadn’t even visited Bob’s since school started.

It felt strange to her to be so close to home but also be completely cut off from it. She texted her dad every day and still sent snaps and memes to all her friends, but it wasn’t the same. She knew they missed her and she missed them, but she had to have her priorities in order if she wanted to be successful, which was definitely something she intended to be.

The way her schedule was set up, she consistently had 8am classes. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world because it meant she had plenty of time after her classes to get stuff done. She had fell into a routine of going to classes, studying and working out.

Spending time with Shea had become a constant as well. They got food and studied together almost every day. Shea understood her dark sense of humor and they could talk for hours on end. Sasha found herself getting less sleep at night because they would just stay up talking for hours. Luck was on her side with getting Shea as a roommate and now friend.

She had also been adopted into Shea’s friend group in a way. They spent a fair amount of time together and would always invite her when they met up for coffee or to study. She got along with all of them well considering they had just met. She even had a class with Trixie. The two of them sat in the back and made snide comments back and forth, trying to hide their obvious laughter.

She’d made friends in her other classes too. Given that she’d taken a lot of her general classes back in high school, she could jump straight into her major classes which had more upperclassmen in them. It was nice to be surrounded by people who cared about what they were majoring in and who probably wouldn’t be switching out anytime soon.

Her professors had been great too. Choosing a smaller, liberal arts college had been the right decision for her. She had professors that cared about their students for both her majors and it showed in how they taught. It was a completely different world from high school and she loved it. Raja, one of her art professors, was her absolute favorite. It was one of her 8am classes but she engaged the class still. Raja wasn’t too thrilled about the time either, always rushing in five minutes late, looking unruly in contrast to all of her pictures online. She made the class fun and Sasha was learning a lot from her even if it was an early class.

All in all, her life was going extremely well, but it could be better. Since coming out, Sasha had no intention of ever going back in the closet. Yet here she was, living her dreams but constantly feeling worried about her secret coming out. She hadn’t really admitted it to herself yet but the main reason she hadn’t gone to Bob’s was because she was embarrassed to admit how insecure she’d been. Those people were her family and she didn’t want to let them down.

So she kept that part of her life to herself and she threw herself into school and her new friends. It was almost too easy to keep it a secret. She tended to keep to herself anyway and was more reserved especially around new people. That meant it wasn’t a problem as long as no one who really knew her saw her.

She had managed to successfully avoid Dusty and Aquaria the whole time she’d been on campus. With both of them being in completely different majors she didn’t have to worry about having classes with them. Every time one of them asked to meet up with her it was easy enough to make an excuse about classes and whatnot. They knew how serious she was about school so it wasn’t that much of a lie, but she knew she could only keep up the rouse for so long. Luckily she knew they both had their own love lives to worry about which kept them fairly occupied for the time being.

Sasha sighed as her class was dismissed early. She hadn’t really been paying attention for most of it but she figured it couldn’t be too important. She could always ask one of her classmates for the notes if she needed to. It was her last class of the day and it was nearing lunchtime. She knew Shea had a break about now so she sent her a text asking if she wanted to meet up for lunch. They ate together pretty much every day sometimes multiple times a day depending on how their schedules lined up. It was nice having a friend she could always meet up with. Not that she minded eating alone but she didn’t mind the company either.

Shea responded quickly, saying that she’d meet her in the dining hall by Sasha’s class in five minutes. Sasha headed into the hall to find seats and grab her food while she waited for Shea. She had already started eating her salad when Shea walked in spotting her quickly, her face lighting up as she made her way over.

“Hey girl,” she greeted, setting her stuff down, “I’m absolutely starving, I’ll be back soon,” she made her way to pile her plate with food before returning to the table and digging in.

They chatted about their days and how much Shea couldn’t stand her mean design professor. “She bullied someone into dropping out the first week of classes. People are only staying in because they have to, and of course she’s supposedly the best teacher in the department. I think that’s bull,” Shea complained.

Sasha frowned, “You’ll have to give her an awful review at the end of the semester then,” she felt bad since she loved all of her professors.

Shea nodded, “I’m sure everyone has but everyone probably does well enough in the class for it to not make a difference.”

Sasha gave her a sympathetic look and they continued on with their meal. Shea telling her about the hot guy from her classes that was now hitting on her. Sasha felt some type of way about it. She knew it was jealousy but she couldn’t tell if she was jealous of the guy or that Shea could talk so openly about her love life. Sasha knew that was her own fault though and not really Shea’s. She kept quiet as Shea talked about it. Focusing a little too much on her food. Shea didn’t seem to pick up on it though, or if she did she didn’t comment on it which Sasha was grateful for.

Sasha changed the subject to Trixie once she was done, “She was texting Katya literally all period. It’s getting hard to watch. The poor girl is so in love that Katya has to know it doesn’t she?”

Shea shrugged, “You’d think but from what I’ve heard she’s either completely oblivious or just doesn’t want to hurt Trixie’s feelings.”

“It’s so sad. I really want to meet her. Trixie talks about her like she’s the whole world but I’d like to see for myself.” Sasha felt for the girl. At least Katya liked girls according to Trixie. Maybe that wasn’t great though because it made Trixie feel like she had more of a chance and Sasha didn’t want to see her hurt.

“Yeah I wouldn’t mind meeting her either so I can give her a piece of my mind,” Shea joked.

“That’s probably why she doesn’t want anyone meeting her. She’s afraid you’ll tell Katya all her secrets,” Sasha said, only half kidding.

Shea looked mock offended, “I would never. Kim on the other hand.”

“I wouldn’t put it past either of you, whether it’s on purpose or not. Clearly it means a lot to Trixie so I’m assuming if we do ever meet her it will be unplanned.”

Shea nodded as they stood up to put their plates away. “Do you want to go to the library to study with me? I have a quiz this afternoon that I need to review for.”

“Yeah, I’ll help you review if you need me to,” she offered, holding the door open for Shea to follow her out.

“You’re honestly the best. I don’t know what I would do without you,” Shea beamed giving her hand a quick squeeze. It was something Sasha had a hard time getting used to at first. Shea was definitely a touchy feely kind of friend. She loved to braid Sasha’s hair when they were talking or rest her head on her shoulder when they were watching Netflix. Sasha didn’t read too much into it though. This was how she was with her other friends too so it didn’t mean anything more than friendship.

They reached their favorite library quickly. It was on a far corner of campus and it was rarely busy. Typically they were the only ones in there which was nice. They never had trouble finding a study room.

They spent about an hour with Sasha quizzing Shea on the content. It was just for a general English class so none of the content was hard necessarily it was just a lot of memorization. At this point Shea pretty much had it down pat and they were just goofing around when Sasha heard her name being called. She turned around to see Aquaria standing there with an awkward smile on her face.

“Oh hey Aqua,” Sasha felt obligated to invite Aquaria to join them since she was one of her oldest friends. She had gone to school with Aquaria since she moved to New York. She had stayed by her side when Aquaria got kicked out of her home for being gay. The two were close friends and at some points in their relationship a little more. Sasha was a little relieved to see her friend but at the same time she didn’t really want her and Shea to interact.

Aquaria looked awkward as she moved to stand at the edge of the table but she smiled at her friend, “I thought you’d dropped off the face of the earth. I haven’t seen you since we’ve been here.”

Sasha felt bad but she plastered a fake smile on her face, “Yeah I know, school’s been kicking my ass. Basically all I do is go to class and study.”

Aquaria seemed to accept her answer, nodding sympathetically.

“Hey,” Shea interjected, “You’re in Miss Del Rio’s class aren’t you?” she asked Aquaria.

“Yeah,” she nodded, “What a bitch honestly,” she giggled, “sorry for not introducing myself, I’m Aquaria,” she had a worried loom on her face probably hoping that she didn’t insult Shea’s favorite teacher.

Shea took her extended hand, “I’m Shea, Sasha’s roommate.”

Aquaria nodded in understanding, still awkwardly standing at the end of their table.

“You can sit if you want, were just pretending to study at this point,” Sasha offered, noticing how she eyed Shea uncomfortably. Aquaria had never been good around strangers. It took forever for her to get comfortable with Sasha and now she never stopped talking but at first she hardly said anything.

Shea seemed to pick up on the tension, “I actually am going to head out. I want to get coffee before my quiz and I know how obnoxious those lines can be. I’ll see you back in the room,” she said goodbye to Sasha, “Nice actually meeting you, I’m glad I’m not the only one who can’t stand Miss Del Rio,” she addressed Aquaria before heading out to the coffee shop.

Aquaria took her seat once she had left, “So that’s why you’ve been MIA then?” she raised a perfectly plucked brow.

Sasha rolled her eyes, “I’ve genuinely been busy. Adjusting to college hasn’t been a breeze,” she defended herself.

Aquaria put her hands up, surrendering, “It hasn’t been easy for me either and you’d know that had you been around.”

Sasha looked at the ground, guilt starting to eat at her, “I’m sorry Aqua, I really am. This has been a new beginning for me and I know I’ve been focusing so much on that that I left you and the others behind. I have to do better, I know.”

Aquaria gave her a sympathetic look, “We just miss you is all. It’s not the same there without you.”

Sasha nodded, “I miss everyone so much honestly.”

“You should come Saturday for open mic,” Aquaria pushed excitedly, “There’s a new girl that’s been coming and she’s absolutely amazing I think you’ll like her a lot.”

Sasha smiled back feeling Aquaria’s enthusiasm rubbing off onto her, “That sounds great, I’ll try to be there.”

Aquaria’s eyes narrowed, “You’ll try to be there or you will be there?” she pressed.

Sasha sighed, she really couldn’t put this off for any longer. It was truly shocking that she’d managed to go this long without going to the bar. “I’ll be there,” she decided, reveling in the genuine smile she got from Aquaria. Her friend had been through a lot and seeing her happy always lifted Sasha’s spirits.

“You can bring your roomie if you want,” Aquaria suggested.

Even the thought of doing that terrified Sasha. She was sure Shea and the rest of the girls would enjoy it especially since most of them were queer. It was different with Shea though because Sasha had to share a room with her for the rest of the year and Shea was straight. She didn’t want anything to be uncomfortable. She didn’t fall for straight girls, she knew better, but she would be lying if she said she had no attraction to Shea. Physically she was gorgeous. She pulled off every look she tried and Sasha envied her confidence.

That wasn’t really the problem though. Sasha could admire the beauty of others without feeling attracted to them. Most of her friend group were beautiful queer girls and she hadn’t even thought about hooking up with them. The problem was her undeniable connection with Shea. In not even a month of knowing her it felt like a lifetime. Even though she didn’t know this huge part of Sasha’s life, she still knew about almost everything else. They related on a personal level that Sasha had never experienced with anyone else before. They could talk for hours on end and Sasha had never had a friend like her. Sure she had closer friends but no one she’d ever had this much of a connection with upon first meeting them.

“I’m not sure if it would be her scene,” she decided on saying.

Aquaria frowned, “Is she homophobic or something? You two seemed to get on so well I can’t imagine that she would be.”

Sasha shook her head, “It’s a little complicated. She doesn’t know I’m gay.”

“She is homophobic then?” Aquaria looked confused.

“I don’t think so. She has a lot of gay friends and seems completely okay with them, but it’s different with me because we’re roommates. I just don’t want to make her uncomfortable,” Sasha explained.

Aquaria didn’t look any less confused, “Why would you being gay make her uncomfortable. If it did that would be her problem to deal with. The only issue would be if you’re attracted to her.”

Sasha hated that Aquaria could see right through her, “I’m not like in love with her or anything but she’s stunning it would be hard not to notice that.”

She didn’t miss the eye roll that Aquaria gave her. “That’s not how you are though. There’s plenty of beautiful girls that you don’t feel anything for but with her there’s something else or else you’d have just come out no problem,” Aquaria pointed out.

The thing was both girls were confident in their sexuality no matter how scary it had been. Aquaria came out to her family hoping against all odds that they would accept her or at least try to but they didn’t. Sasha came out to her Russian dad and it wasn’t easy at first but she knew she had to live her life being authentically her. And this, this was not doing that.

“You’re right,” Sasha gave in, “I hate that I don’t know what to do about it,” she sighed.

“I think you should just tell her. It’s only going to get harder the longer you wait,” Aquaria suggested. She was right, Sasha knew this but it didn’t make it easier. “I also think you should come to the bar and talk about it with your closest friends. It’ll help you more than you think.”

That was the truth. Their bar family had taken Aquaria in when no one would. Sharon had essentially taken the role as her mother, letting Aquaria move in with her. Most people though it was a sugar mama type of deal but Sasha knew it wasn’t. It was a woman who had been ostracized by her family for being gay taking in a girl who had been in the same situation. The difference was that Sharon hadn’t had anyone to do that for her when she was young and she didn’t want to see anyone else go through that.

“I know it will. You guys are the best form therapy for me right now,” Sasha agreed. It was time for her to face the music and her fears.

Aquaria beamed at her before getting up, “I need to get to class now but I’m texting everyone that’ll you’ll be there so now they can hold you accountable too.”

Sasha chuckled, “Thanks for having faith in me.”

Aquaria winked before disappearing from Sasha’s view. A sigh escaped Sasha’s lips. It was going to be difficult explaining why she hadn’t been around in a month. Even though she knew that no matter how long she was gone, they’d be there to welcome her back with open arms. There were still some nerves she couldn’t shake, but she knew they would have her best interests in the end and give her good advice.

~

Saturday came quicker than Sasha was prepared for. As it got later, she got more nervous. She was getting ready in her room. Shea was away somewhere with her friends, they’d invited Sasha, but she told them she had a paper to finish. She was glad to have the room to herself for the time being, it would have been difficult to explain where she was going and why Shea couldn’t come.

She was putting a final coat of lipstick on her lips when Shea, Kim and Trixie stumbled in, laughing loudly. They had clearly already started pregaming. It was evident by the flushes on their faces and them talking over each other even more loudly than usual. Sasha laughed at the sight of them. “It’s not even eight yet. Are you guys even going to be able to make it to wherever you’re going?”

Shea plopped down beside her and plucked the lipstick from her hand, “This shade is seriously the bomb. Do you think it would look good on me?” she held the tube close to her lips and puckered them dramatically.

Sasha rolled her eyes and tried not to let them linger on Shea’s lips, “Girl please you know everything looks good on you,” she snatched the lipstick back without any difficulty given Shea’s reflexes were pretty much non-existent when she was tipsy.

“Don’t compliment her, it’ll just go to her head and then she’ll think she’s somebody when we’re out tonight,” Kim joked to which Trixie let out a scream of laughter.

Shea flipped them both off before turning back to Sasha again, “You’re all dolled up. Did you change your mind about coming out with us?” she asked hopefully.

Sasha shook her head, “I’m actually meeting up with some friends. You remember Aquaria?” Shea nodded. “Well she managed to convince me to meet up with her and a few of our other high school friends tonight,” she explained.

Shea pouted, “Lame, you should totally come out with us instead.”

“Next time,” Sasha promised, giving Shea’s shoulder a squeeze. “I gotta get going, enjoy your night,” she waved bye to the two other girls before leaving the room and heading to the place that had become her second home over the years.

She arrived at the bar a little before it opened. She texted Bob letting her know she was outside and waited to be let in. The first time she had come to Look Queen was in her sophomore year of High School. She, Aquaria and Brianna had managed to sneak in. Though they didn’t really sneak in at all since it was Brianna’s mom that owned the place. They did however sneak drinks. Back then she had no idea how much this place would become home to her. She remembered feeling humiliated when one of the resident queens called her out for being too hairy, that was back in her unibrow days and she was still struggling with accepting her sexuality so having any attention on her terrified her.

The queen later apologized and snuck Sasha drinks. After that night the trio would go there every weekend. Sometimes they were joined by Brianna’s sister Monet and Dusty but mostly it was just them. They all had a close bond as they were in the same boat with figuring out their sexuality, which had led to some experimentation over the years. While Sasha cared for both girls, she never really had romantic feelings for either of them. Not the way they had for each other, or at least the way Aquaria had for Brianna.

She was greeted at the door by Peppermint, the vibrant woman smiled excitedly and pulled her in for a squeeze. “Sasha, girl it has been too long.”

Sasha knew she’d be in for these reactions the whole night, “I know, I know, school and all,” was all she offered for an explanation.

“We’re gonna talk more later,” Peppermint told her, “But right now you’re gonna go get a drink and apologize to Bob for making her worry.”

Sasha nodded guiltily and followed her inside. It was no surprise that the place hadn’t changed. Still brightly colored with glitter everywhere. Still smelling like booze. The mural she’d painted still covering the far wall. And still feeling like home. Sasha smiled at everyone when she walked in. Most of the people she was closest to would hang out before Bob opened to the public, either talking or preparing for their show. This particular night was open mic night which basically meant everything goes. Sasha frequently did spoken word there, it helped tremendously with her confidence and she enjoyed doing it. She hadn’t yet decided if she wanted to do anything that night, if she did it would just have to be a classic from her repertoire. One she could recite in her sleep.

Bob stood behind the counter of the bar, tidying up and making sure things were in the right place. Brianna was sitting on the counter, chatting animatedly with her sister when she spotted Sasha come in. “Sasha!” She yelled, jumping down from the counter and running to give Sasha a huge hug.

“Hey,” Sasha greeted the armful of blonde hair. Monet walked over to them as well, giving her greeting too.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Alexis glanced up from the magazine she was reading to give Sasha a smile.

Bob seemed to be purposely ignoring her, which she understood. Since she’d been coming there Bob had taken such a motherly role in her life. She had sat and listened to all of Sasha’s worries and helped her come in to herself. She was the first person Sasha told about her acceptance into Charles and she had set up a bar night in celebration, with all the tips they had received that night going into Sasha’s college fund.

Bob meant the world to her and she felt awful that she had let her down. She slowly made her way over to Bob, knowing it was best to just rip off the band aid. “Do you need any help setting up?” she asked, in lieu of a greeting once she’d reached the counter.

“No I’m mostly done with everything,” Bob shrugged, stopping what she was doing to turn to Sasha. “Do you need any help?” she returned the question.

Sasha sighed, “I know I haven’t been around in a while, but the truth is that I’ve just been caught up in the new world at school and the longer I stayed away the more I felt bad about coming back,” she admitted.

Bob’s hard stare softened a little, “Aquaria told me about your roommate thing,” she told Sasha.

“Well there’s that too,” Sasha smiled sheepishly.

“I can’t tell you what to do, but just know that I’ll go rough a bitch up if I need to,” Bob informed her. It was said like a joke but Sasha knew he was completely serious. Sure Bob wouldn’t actually hurt anyone but she would for sure go have an intimidating conversation with anyone who disapproved of Sasha.

“I know that. And I know she wouldn’t disapprove of my sexuality but I’m worried she might pick up on whatever feelings I have towards her,” she explained.

Bob nodded in understanding, “And those feelings are romantic? Or at least more than platonic?” she pressed.

Sasha shrugged, “Yeah I guess. I don’t really know how to categorize them but they’re there and they probably won’t be going anywhere so I’ll just have to learn how to deal with them for this year.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to force yourself back in the closet for a year,” Bob pointed out.

“At least until I figure out how to tell her. She’s such a good friend now that it complicates things more for sure.”

“Maybe if you found yourself a lovely gal it would make it easier. Both in getting over her and coming out to her,” Brianna interrupted their conversation.

It wasn’t a bad idea, but no one had caught Sasha’s eye in a long time. She wasn’t necessarily picky when it came to people, but her personality didn’t jive well with everyone’s and that could cause trouble for her love life.

“Maybe,” Sasha offered. Brianna shrugged and got in position behind the counter. Bob went over to open the doors signifying that the conversation was over, at least for the time being.

People began to file into the bar. Brianna handed her a gin and tonic with a wink before getting to work. Sasha made her way over to where Dusty was chatting with Alexis. She easily slid into conversation with them while slowly sipping on her drink and waiting for the open mic to start. “Are you gonna perform tonight?” Dusty questioned.

“I’m not sure yet,” Sasha told her. The bar was filling up quickly with lots of familiar faces and some new ones. She saw Aquaria at the bar with a girl she didn’t recognize. They were getting drinks from Brianna. She briefly wondered if Aquaria was with the stranger to make Bri jealous, however she didn’t look too phased, chatting happily with them while she shook their drinks.

Once the bar had started buzzing with people Thorgy took to the stage to announce sign-ups for the open mic. Sasha watched as a bunch of eager people rushed to sign up while others stayed behind wanting to get their courage up before signing up, which meant doing shots.

The line would die down in a bit and she would probably sign up whenever that happened. She was deciding on what piece she wanted to do when she was interrupted from her thoughts by someone bumping into her.

“I’m so sorry,” the girl apologized, reaching a hand out to steady her. “Oh hey Sasha, I didn’t expect to see you here.” Of course it was Pearl that had bumped into her.

“Yeah, this place was kind of like my hangout in high school so I’m just visiting with everyone,” she explained. It wasn’t a lie really, just not the whole truth.

“That’s crazy, I’ve been coming here with Vi recently I love it,” Pearl responded in her soothing voice.

“I’m just now realizing that your girlfriend is Violet Chachki.” Sasha didn’t know why it took her so long to put it together. Violet and Fame had been coming there almost as long as she had. She always though there was something between them, but maybe they were just close friend.

“Yeah. You know her? I guess you’ve never been around when she is so I never thought about it,” Pearl shook her head, “That’s weird though,” she lamented.

They talked for a while and Sasha found out that Pearl was originally from New York, but she moved to Chicago after she finished high school early to live with her dad and go to beauty school. Thankfully she hadn’t asked about Sasha’s sexuality yet or mentioned it if she already knew. Hopefully she wouldn’t say anything to Shea. Sasha didn’t want to risk anything by asking her not to so she just kept her mouth shut.

Violet came over to join them and they had a commentary about all of the people on the stage. Some were awful but there was one girl who did a spoken word about having the same parts as the boys who flirted with her. Everyone found it to be hilarious. It was early in the night so most people were lackluster or regulars that Sasha had seen many a times.

One girl, however, caught her eye. It was the girl that had been talking to Aquaria earlier. Sasha recognized her when she stepped out onto the stage but she had no idea what to expect. The girl was confident as she graced the stage. She didn’t even announce her name before she launched into a rap about being an art god. Sasha stood mesmerized the whole time. The girl was articulate and enchanting and Sasha was hooked on her every word. When it was over Sasha clapped loudly along with the rest of the crowd. The girl smiled widely and exited the stage.

“Did you guys catch her name?” She asked Violet and Pearl, eager to know who the mystery girl was.

“Oh, that’s Aja. She’s been coming these past few weeks. She’s a huge hit,” Violet filled her in.

“She’s incredible,” Sasha told them.

“Yeah she’s been really good every time we’ve seen her,” Pearl agreed.

Watching the performance left Sasha feeling inspired, “I’m going to go sign up for a spot. I’ll see you guys later,” Sasha waved at them before going to put her name on the list. After she’d signed up she went to get another drink for good measure. She figured she wouldn’t drink anymore until after she went and she would be fine.

She went to find Aquaria and hopefully find out more about Aja. Aquaria was sitting with Dusty and Yuhua, the latter loudly laughing at something. She greeted them all before taking a seat.

“Have you signed up yet?” Aquaria asked.

Sasha nodded, “I just did,” she told them, “I was feeling really inspired after Aja’s performance. Is that the newbie you were talking about?”

“Yeah,” Aquaria said excitedly, “Wasn’t she amazing? I knew you’d like her.”

“She was great,” Sasha smiled, “Is she around anywhere? I’d like to compliment her.”

“Hm, I think she’s off with her friends somewhere. Probably smoking in the bathroom honestly. I’ll introduce you guys later,” Aquaria promised, “but in the meantime let’s do some shots!” Dusty and Yuhua agreed happily.

“Save mine for after I go please,” Sasha laughed, “I’m not going through that mess again.”

The others laughed, “We would love to see that again though,” Dusty joked.

Sasha rolled her eyes as Aquaria went to get them shots. She cheered for the others while they took them. It wasn’t long before her name was being called to go. The others wished her luck while she took the stage.

She mainly just did spoken word about whatever was on her mind. This particular piece was something she wrote while coming to terms with her sexuality. It was one of her favorites and it related to her just as much now as it did back then. Especially since she’d pretty much entered the closet again. She briefly worried about Pearl hearing it, but it wasn’t too obviously about her being gay. Pearl didn’t seem like the kind of person to care all that much or sell her out, so she decided to go for it.

She always blanked when she performed. She couldn’t really tell how the audience reacted during because she was so in the moment. Once it was over she would come back to her senses but something about performing made her a completely different person. It was good though, she supposed, because back in her stage fright days she was just in a state of fear the whole time.

Once she was done the crowd cheered for her. Her friends shouts being louder than the others and she felt warm and happy. She loved this group of people more than anything else and she had no idea how she managed to stay away from them for so long.

Aquaria greeted her with a shot once she got off the stage, which she took with no hesitation. “C’mon, I think I saw Aja by the bar,” Aquaria tugged her arm, leading her to Aja and her friends.

“Aja,” Aquaria called loudly to get her attention.

“Sis,” Aja smiled turning her attention to them, “And you’re Sasha. I’ve heard so much about you,” she said, eying Sasha up and down before offering her a warm smile.

“You too,” Sasha responded, “Everyone’s been telling me about you.”

“You too. I was starting to think you weren’t real,” Aja joked, “I’m glad you are though. You’re spoken word was brilliant for real. I used to feel exactly the same way it was weird hearing it in someone else’s words,” she complimented.

Sasha blushed, “Thank you so much. You were the amazing one though. Your flow was insane and so natural I have no idea how you do it.”

Aja grinned proudly, “Lots of practice,” she admitted.

“You’re seriously talented. I can’t wait to see more of your work.”

“Yours too. I heard you do art as well?” Aja inquired.

Sasha nodded, “Yeah, it’s actually one of my majors.”

“That’s so cool!” Aja exclaimed, “I’d love to see it sometime.”

Sasha pointed to a mural that took up the back wall of the bar, “That’s actually my work over there,” she explained.

Aja’s eyes went wide, “You did that? It’s always caught my eye when I come in, I had no idea it was yours.”

Sasha nodded sheepishly, “Yeah Bob had me do it once she found out I painted. It was a good project for me, I’m glad I was able to add to the environment of this place.”

“For sure,” Aja agreed, “You want a drink?” she offered.

“Sure, I’d love one,” Sasha agreed. She spent the rest of her night drinking with Aja. They traded stories and compliments. Relating with someone on an artistic level was so refreshing. Sure she had her classmates but it was less intimidating this way. It was nice to have an informal and relaxed artistic conversation without the pressure of grades and being better than everyone else. It was incredibly chill talking to Aja and they shared the same humor. She was disappointed when the bar started to close and they had to leave. She walked out with Aja and her friends, making sure they got in their uber safely before making her way back into the bar.

Luckily she had exchanged numbers with Aja before they got too drunk. She definitely wanted to talk to her more. She made her way over to Bob to talk with her while she closed up.

“You and Aja hit it off then?” Bob asked.

Sasha nodded happily, “Yeah, she’s super chill and very talented like wow I’ve never met anyone like her,” she tried to explain, fumbling over her words a little.

Bob laughed, “Everyone knew you guys would get along, I’m glad you finally met.”

“Me too,” Sasha hummed in agreement. Bob finished cleaning for the night and offered Sasha a ride home which she accepted quickly.

The ride back was fairly quiet, Sasha beginning to get sleepy. Bob dropped her off at her dorm and got out to give her a hug goodbye. “I’m glad you came back,” she told her after letting go.

“Me too. I could never stay away long,” Sasha said. “Text me when you get back.”

“I will,” Bob agreed even though they both knew Sasha would be fast asleep. “Love you kiddo,” Bob told her before getting back in the car.

“Love you too,” Sasha called, watching Bob pull away and then walking into her dorm. She fumbled a little with the key to her room but she managed to get in successfully. She noticed Shea was already asleep when she got in. Her makeup still on her face and she was snoring softly. Sasha chuckled at the sight before climbing into bed and passing out quickly.

[guineapigsinwinter]

Au One shot first half.

So got the idea of doing a series of one shot au shorts, all on the idea on what if Legoshi had thought of romance/love sooner. So here is the first part of one of them, a tad spicier then I would normally write and cuts to a time skip at the end. Riz sighed as people slowly meandered into the auditorium for the first meeting of the drama club after the summer holidays, wincing as Bill shouted out. He really wished the tiger wasn’t quite so loud constantly.

“Hey Legoshi, what’s with the rainbow suspenders?” The tiger yelled, making Riz look up, quickly spotting the tall wolf look up from where he was talking with the rest of the art team. He was wearing rainbow patterned suspenders, other then that no difference from before summer other then maybe a slight increase in height. 

Bashfully smiling, Legoshi replied, thumbing the suspenders that had caught Bill’s attention. “Oh these? My dormmates got them for me to show support after I told them I was gay. I quite like having some colour I think.”

A fair few of the drama club were staring. It was the most animated they had ever heard the wolf talk, and the plain matter of fact way the wolf had stated something which normally constituted some kind of drama. Or at least did in the shows and films Riz had watched online.

Before anyone could react any other way Louis let out a loud cough and called for attention. Remembering Legoshi normally stayed late to work on the lights after meetings, Riz decided he would talk to him afterwards, a part of the bear’s mind being giddy at not being the only queer in the club anymore.

 --

The meeting had finished early, and everyone else had left, though Bill and Tao had stayed and talked to Legoshi before leaving. Riz hadn’t been able to work up the courage to talk to Legoshi. They had only had a few conversations before, a reflection of both being reserved and working in different teams in the club. He wasn’t entirely sure what to say. He’d just finished checking the auditoriums speakers when he saw the wolf leaving and heading to the changing rooms. Taking a calming breath, Riz followed. 

Legoshi was taking his backpack out of his locker when Riz caught up with him, the wolf turning around looking at him quizzically.

“Umm about what you said earlier Legoshi, is that true?” Riz asked, internally wincing at how uncertain his voice came out.Sighing and looking down at the ground, Legoshi subtly shifted into a defensive stance, surprising Riz. 

“Yes. Though if you have a problem Riz could we please keep it out of the club? I’d rather not cause any trouble for anyone.”

Okay, Legoshi had completely misunderstood him, Riz felt his cheeks flush in embarrassment, and found himself scratching the back of his head. This was going to be so awkward.

“Nope. It would be rather hypocritical of me to have a problem, it’s nice to not be the only queer in the club anymore.”  Riz mumbled out. The smile that burst across Legoshi’s face and sudden tail wagging that started after the few moments of confusion on the wolf’s was as surprising as it was adorable.

“Re, really? I wouldn’t have guessed, not that Tao is obviously gay but he’s, well he’s Tao.” Legoshi happily said, putting his bag down. Riz hadn’t know about the panther, he’d suspected but hadn’t felt comfortable making assumptions. Still, it was nice to feel there were others like him.

“Well I mean other then the suspenders you are not exactly screaming it out either muttboy.” Riz replied, wincing internally at his sarcastic tone.

Quietly chuckling, Legoshi leant back against the lockers, seemingly uncaring about Riz’s tone. “Heh, that’s true, though none of my dormmates were surprised so who knows.”

Walking over and leaning against the lockers next to the wolf carefully, Riz replied. “Sorry if I came across as harsh. Okay to ask how you realised? You didn’t really seem exactly interested in romance and such before summer. Some summer love story you are hiding from everyone?”

Legoshi let out an amused bark before tilting his head to look at Riz. “Nothing so dramatic. Honestly never thought about romance or love before. Didn’t seem exactly likely considering how everyone seems to just see me a terrifying creepy wolf, let alone as a man. Ended up thinking about it after Durry and Migs, sorry two of my housemates got together over the summer.”

Legoshi’s admission stung Riz, though he perfectly understood what the wolf was talking about. “Well they are idiots, you’ve got a handsome face and clearly present as male. Get you on people only seeing you as a stereotype or your species, it’s the same for us bears, at least the carnivorous ones.” Riz said laconically, trying to keep and anger he always felt about the preferential treatment herbivore bears, particularly pandas got down.

After a few moments of silence, he looked over at Legoshi. The wolf was staring at him, blushing and mouth slightly agape in a rather cute manner. Seemingly realising he had spaced out, Legoshi stood up, awkwardly chuckling whilst looking at the floor. “Sorry about that, no one’s said anything like that to me before, weird to think I could be considered handsome.”

Now Riz found himself gaping at the wolf in surprise. Really? The hunching over wasn’t great, but wolf wasn’t ugly by any stretch of the imagination. Quite handsome in a scruffy stoic kind of way, though the way that tail was wagging was adorable.

“Re, really Riz? You mean that? This isn’t a joke or something right?” Legoshi asked hesitantly, confusion on his face. Riz hadn’t realised he’d thought out loud.

Feeling his cheeks burn, Riz palmed one of his hands to his face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry man, if if, wait why would saying how you are handsome and adorable be a joke?”

“Like I said Riz, no one has said that to me before. And I’ve already had a few jokes and insults thrown my way in the cafeteria, the guys try to help but half the time they are making sure Jack and Miguno aren’t getting beat up, turns out that happens to smaller gays.” Legoshi said sadly, tail and ears drooping.

Riz felt a flash of anger at the idea of anyone treating Legoshi like that, and found himself hugging the wolf before he knew it. “As I said they are idiots. You Legoshi are a handsome wolf, even if you should stand tall more.” He said, finding he quite liked the feeling of Legoshi in his arms.  

“If you open yours eyes properly, pretty sure that squint is wrecking your eyesight, how else would you think I’m handsome?” Legoshi replied in a half joking, half laconic tone, surprising Riz.

So the wolf had some bite eh? He did have a point though. “Well I’ll open them properly if you stand up straight okay? Pretty sure that can’t be good for your back pup.” He said to Legoshi, enjoying the sight of the wolf’s tail starting to wag again.

To his surprise, Legoshi did then stand up, putting his arms around Riz, his back popping as he straightened it out. Not as tall as Riz, but was far closer then anyone else bar Bill. And the way the he grinned took Riz’s breath.

“You shouldn’t hide them so much, they are beautiful you know?” Legoshi giggled out, making Riz realise he’d opened them in surprise at the wolf’s true height. 

Finding himself looking sceptically at Legoshi, Riz snickered. “Well you are still handsome, and quite the flatterer when you talk more it seems.

”Blushing, Legoshi chuckled. “Thanks, still weird to hear and I’m not sure I believe it myself.”

“May I prove it then to you please?” He certainly hadn’t been planning this earlier, but Riz found he quite liked the way this was going.

“Heh, sure but I don’t kno-“. Riz cut off Legoshi’s self deprecation by kissing him. He wasn’t sure if he was doing it right, but took Legoshi returning it as a good sign. The wolf tasted good, and Riz certainly felt energised as he and Legoshi’s tongues explored each other’s mouth, and their hands started to do the same. 

Riz found himself moaning as the wolf’s hands found his ass, spinning around and pinning Legoshi to the lockers, making the wolf whine in pleasure. Fuck this was hot. Legoshi was hot. Riz wasn’t sure he had been harder in his life, and he could feel Legoshi was similar. He wasn’t sure how long they had been like that, grinding against each other, hands roaming and just relishing in the sensation, both moaning and whining as they found sensitive spots.

“Bloody hell that’s hot!” The shout caused Legoshi to freeze and Riz to stumble back, only just managing to catch himself from falling over. Turning around, Riz had no idea what to say.It was Tem standing in the doorway, and the smirk on his face as he looked at Riz and Legoshi was positively devilish. 

“Please, don’t stop on my account. As I said you two at it like that was hot.” The alpaca said as strode over, before his neck contracted as his confidence dipped slightly and he rubbed the back of his head, his voice taking on a more bashful tone.

 “Or would having a third help?” 

[iwantasecretgarden]

Dear Misty,

@mercedeslackeyblog​ - please print this for her in the hospital! I want her to know we all love her and are rooting for her.

You have been one of the icons in my life for as long as I’ve been reading. Seriously. I picked up “Arrows of the Queen” when I was twelve and fell dizzyingly in love. So in love, in fact, that my father bought me the set of them leatherbound. It was one of the last things he ever bought me. They sit on my shelf with me wherever I move to (and I have moved a lot). They are the epitome of my childhood.

How do I even begin to explain what you have meant to me? I wrote you a fan letter in my teens, but I don’t think it ever reached you. Websites were less...polished then. I tried to find a copy to see what I had said, but I don’t have it anymore, so I’ll write this from scratch.

First off, for someone growing up in the 90s, sexuality was a difficult topic. My father was Catholic about it. My mother was liberal about acceptance, but not very liberal about giving us the tools to recognize it. I didn’t really accept the fact I was bi until I was 26 (last year). It was an embarrassing realization, because I had always been conditioned to already think women were interesting and cool and beautiful. But I honestly and truly believe one of the reasons I grew up being so tolerant of sexuality wasn’t my mother’s liberal attitude, but because of the fantasy I read, which didn’t use sexuality as a dramatic plot device. Your books, especially, in depicting queer relationships, poly relationships, and interracial relationships in such an ordinary light, in such a non-complaining, non special, non interesting way (as it should be!) that to me it became ordinary. I didn’t understand the big fuss when people started coming out in eighth and ninth grade. Well of course Brett could like boys. Silverfox did, and he’s one of my favorite characters, a fictional hero who I use to help combat my own anxiety and work through impossible situations. I didn’t understand why liking girls was so shocking. Keren was the impossibly cooler most perfect big sister/coach figure. I was into horse back riding until 16 (when, unfortunately, my horse died). Keren has a lot of the surly riding instructor in her, and it was a far more interesting aspect of her personality than her relationship with Sheri. Keren had even assured Sheri she would have been welcome as their third. As a kid, it hadn’t even occurred to me to make an argument against it. I - Talia’s age - agreed with her. When life gives you child brides and weird cult compounds, it’s better to find love where you can. Genuine love. Regardless of anything else.

Secondly, it was a book I needed when I didn’t know I would need it. A lot of fiction - especially geared at children - skates lightly over topics of depression, anxiety, and loss. Don’t get me wrong, I love Harry Potter with my soul. But even at the age I read it I felt the shallowness of their reactions when Sirius died. I felt my own reaction even crying while reading the book to be stronger. It would infuriate me that the next book they sort of conveniently forgot it had only been a few weeks/months. That Harry was “sad but manageable.” For context, my dad contracted Lou Gehrig’s disease at 44. They told him he had likely already had the disease 10 years. He lost everything; his temper, his dignity, bits of his mind at a time. Any filter between his brain and his mouth. His fine motor control, like holding a spoon. His major motor control, like being able to stand up. He was in a powerchair within the year. As the oldest daughter, it was expected that I would help turn him, change his catheter, and answer his shrill screams in the night. I was fourteen years old. 

Dad and I were inseparable. Father-daughter relationship compounded by the fact he had, in essence with a flexible work schedule, been a stay at home dad. He had been my primary caregiver, my confidante, my chef, my advisor, my everything. And now I was his punching bag as he lost a bit of himself at a time. “My friend, who’s a psychiatrist,” Mom always said it this way, to make sure we knew she wasn’t so weak as to need therapy. A challenge to dare us to say we did. “He says that he’s hardest on you, because he’s most assured of your love. That he can abuse you and scream at you and curse at you because he knows you’ll go back the next day. A moth to a flame.” And me staring blankly at her: “Of course I will.” Because even if it was my worst fear - it was, always had been - even if it hurt worse than I could have ever imagined - his death would have broken me, but only in half. His suffering crushed the pieces of me into dust and left me a gaping black thing sucking in the world - “I love him too much to miss a moment of this.” Even if every minute - every possible second - was me reminding myself I had to breathe and feeling my lungs on fire, my head was on the edge of a migraine, it was impossible to interact, but I had to. I had to smile. To go to high school. To turn in assignments on time regardless of the cost between going to bed at 2 and hearing him scream at 3. 

Your books, though, weren’t fake. I held onto them with the assurance of that one quote: life is the scream into the void; art is the answer you are not alone. I held onto the depression and grief and trauma of your characters and felt sane. If I hadn’t, I might have thought I was losing my mind. I was, of course. And I had been conditioned Catholically to think of mental health as a weakness, a secret shame. I had been told by my mother psychologists and medication were wonderful advancements for those people; sick people. Sick in their mind, she would say smugly. Her adamant assurance was: “We have to go on like usual. We can’t let people know we’re struggling.” And so we did. Social events. Big smiles. Sleepovers (somewhere else, my friends explained, your dad bums us out). People didn’t find out he was dying until prom of my senior year. I was on the receiving end of a lot of horror from teachers (why didn’t you tell us? Ask for an extension?) I had to be normal I wanted to tell them, but I didn’t even know how to begin to explain.

Once a pediatrician told my mom I was deeply angry and tired; I was losing my father. I was fifteen. I needed to see a counselor. My mom went ballistic in a public waiting room. She aggressively turned to me and asked if this was true? There was no chance, of course, for me to disagree. I didn’t even want to. My loyalty to my family was (is) so strong that seeing anyone upset her so badly had put my back against the wall and made me bare my teeth. I reflect a lot on it now; how poorly that doctor handled it, the way she would have bungled it much worse if it had been physical abuse. You never confront the person in front of the child. Never don’t have a safety plan in place. 

“She said you were so young,” my mother snarled on the way home. “When we both know you haven’t been young in years. I watched you. Watched you go from fifteen to twenty in months instead of years. Don’t you think?”

I could only nod, and when I covered my mouth, fingertips touched wet skin. I hadn’t been young in years. 

Darkwind was someone I identified heavily with. Someone who changed his name, cut his hair, let his grief consume him. Someone who shied away from Silverfox’s help. Someone who was glad when his father still got some. The day of my dad’s funeral, I cut off my hair. I was 19. The nightmare had lasted five years. I had stayed home to go to a local college so I could keep living at home, keep shielding my younger sisters, keep driving them to school and viola practice and karate. I had to give up my extracurriculars early on (and lie, of course, on my applications). It was actually a disaster at the hair cutting place (not important, but the lady called the police thinking I had stolen her cell phone which had fallen behind some tools). I went home. My mother took one look at my hair and told me it made my face look fat. “It’s for Dad,” I said steadily. In my mind, I was howling like Darkwind. I wondered if I could break my name into grief and sorrow, but it was too hard to think of the name I might have been, since the person I had been was as dead as dad was. 

On days where my two younger sisters were scared and confused (the youngest was 13 when he died), I read them The Fairy Godmother and One Good Knight. They liked that one especially well. I went on to absorb almost all of your works (I think it’s impossible though, to be honest. There are just so many that either you’re a witch or I keep reading the same ones again and thinking I’ve never read them. For instance, I have a Bard Song on my nightstand right now from a bargain bin. Never read it before. Recently read Four and Twenty Blackbirds). Of course, my favorite series was Valdemar. I know all those characters the best, having reread most of them over again several times. I liked Elemental Masters, 700 Kingdoms (some). I was sad that the Beauty & the Beast stories in both weren’t my favorites (The Fire Rose, Beauty and the Werewolf, since it’s my favorite Disney film (but as your stories follow the traditional fairytale a little closer, and that tale is a bit gross, I understand). I think my favorites were The Firebird, Phoenix and Ashes, Reserved from the Cat, The Wizard of London).

Honestly, I may be a tiny minority, but I ADORE Joust. I was sad there weren’t more of them. I spent much of the time I read them inventing my own dragon egg, my own falling through time and space. My own female girl rider takes on the Team without being just a sidekick who talked to animals. It is hard to recommend or talk about it without people laughing, and I appreciate it IS an incredibly hard-core nerd fantasy genre (ancient Egypt, jousting, dragons). It feels a lot like Anne McCaffery crossed with a Naomi Novik story (since Temeraire and Napoleonic Wars are equally hard-core nerd stories. I was lucky to stumble on that line recently - I feel like there’s not enough of the true blue 80s/90s fantasy voice anymore. Sometimes it feels all too dark and plot driven, lacking the characters and slice of life that your works have nestled in my heart, places like the Palace Compound that I know as well as I knew my middle and high schools. A place as real to me as they are, including my own room. My own Companion. My own Heraldic Whites when I turned 18 and took the leatherbound books from my father in an eyestinging rush of love. 

Even now when I was looking up a list of your work, I’m amazed and appalled to see I haven’t caught any of your works since 2009 or so. HOW MANY ARE THERE 100? 200? I thought there were 70 something, but no, you’ve far outstripped yourself. I usually pick up the books in secondhand shops. I’ll go straight for “L” and then just tip all of them into my arms if I haven’t read them. It’s one of my favorite rainyday activities. I noticed you even have a book out this year! CRAP! It should not be POSSIBLE you can write faster than I can read! I’m 27 and I still read a lot of the books that came out when I was born or in diapers. Sometimes I wonder which books you’ve written are your favorites. If there are books you’ve written you skim through like “hmmm I don’t even remember this” and read it with the same laughing intensity as the rest of us, resting your thumb on “oh yes, this was when I was...”

Anyway. I know this letter is long. You’ve been a saint for even getting this far. So let me say this. When I think of the BEST writers of fantasy in the 20th and 21st centuries, your name is among the greats. I’ll say something like: Anne McCaffery’s Dragonriders of Pern; Orson Scott Card’s Ender’s Game; Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time; Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar...and EVERYTHING ELSE. A lot more people know the names of George R.R. Martin, of J.K. Rowling, of Neil Gaiman. But none of them have put out the solid, unending stream of work that literally POPULATES what most people consider “fantasy.” Your ideas, your work, your world-building influence television, influence Dungeons & Dragons, other works. You are a Giant in your field, and even if you don’t feel it, you have laid the groundwork for an entire generation to lay themselves reverently on the altar of your sacrifice, your reflection of relationships, and taught young girls like me what it was to embrace themselves, in all shapes - black tar and bi pride. 

I know you probably tire of hearing this, but I want to be an author. And I’m a good writer. I don’t say it boastfully. I say it as something I’ve always heard, from teachers and friends and magazines. But mom said being an author was like being an actor - a pipe dream, a thing to do “on the side” and “as a hobby.” And it is a hobby of mine, for now. I did the Responsible Thing and became a lawyer. It was quite horrible. But I did it. For Dad, you know. Legacy and all that. 

But don’t you DARE die before I’m published. I’m not talking about the hospital right now. I’m talking about choking on a banana; slipping on the sidewalk; getting mobbed by adoring fans. It is literally my bucketlist to publish a book, to meet you, to dedicate the book to a woman who I’ve never met, who I’ve never known, but who had influenced and impacted my life SO profoundly I consider her characters as pieces of myself. Her worlds as places of safety when I’m sad. The helping hand she held out to a twelve year old girl, and fifteen years later the one I’m still gripping tightly. 

YOU are one of the best women in my life, and one of the best role models I’ve ever known. Even if we’ve never met, knowing that you could be a deeply nerdy human who loves horses and magic and reading every day and still be “successful” when the world outside told me I dressed wrong and looked wrong and felt wrong. That I needed to pick up a magazine, or watch sitcoms, or generally stop making them feel pitying and uncomfortable because of the things I liked. You made me proud to be a feminist, an ally, a writer, a dreamer, a reader, and maybe only lately of my sexuality, but still growing and going forward. 

So, here’s lots of love and adoration and gratitude flooding your way from:

One herald (whose companion was someone she knew in real life reincarnated too early, obviously grove born, with mindspeech, with magic, of course and lifebonded with a Kestra'chern. Predictably, I fought the lifebonding every step of the way, and consider him a great nuisance).

One dragon rider in the jousting wars (with a dragon named Altaira (high flying) who is such a deep dark color she seems black but ripples cobalt and violet).

One grateful apprentice to the Fairy Godmother, who herself was saved from one of a great many plots by the impetus of her father’s illness/death.

And of course, from one persnickety lawyer in DC, drowning in student loan debt and of course too many books, one cat too pretty to be a boy named Gandalf, and his Greyhounds (yes, two, who are very lowkey and I think you would like. They’re like large sleeping cats more than dogs, but very friendly with horses). Of course I named the cat Gandalf simply for the introduction of “Gandalf, the Greyhounds.” Originally I wanted to name a dog “Gandalf...the Greyhound” but because of who I am I went to the shelter and asked for the dog least likely to get adopted and sort of came out with a bonded pair and then it seemed they needed twin names so they’re named Fred & George after Harry Potter. 

But rambling aside, I adore you. I adore your books. I adore the world you’ve given freely for us to play in. Get well soon, and lots, lots, and lots of love. I’ll be playing in my worlds today especially a lot, thinking of you.

All the best,

Kaylee

[dominavontana]

Wed Aug 15 #sexed @sugartheshop Sensual Bondage with Pervertibles

Perveritble: any common often domestic item that can be used for a different purpose other than that originally intended by the manufacturer in a style that is part of a BDSM or kinky play scene

Below are three separate blog posts because ain't no body got time for that...separate posting bullshit.

I just want to go play in the woods.

1. Sugar classes, when sex workers lose clients to death, and the amazing Domme I met

2. The post I promised you yesterday

3. Summary of the successful summer tour (and whatever shit I decide to write about along the way)

First up...SUGAR

Below is the post I promised you yesterday.

 But before we get to that...please check out this  bondageworkshop I’m teaching on August 15 in Baltimore at www.sugartheshop.com. Tickets are $25 and the classis 90 minutes, from 630 to 8. I always hang around til close because it’s fun and the teaching space is super gorgeous. The stores great too :) and they share the same space…

 On a more personal/professional note, I’ve read about the grieving process particular to sex workers who loose long term clients. And now I am both proud and saddened to say I find myself for the first time at this place in my peculiar career. Both clients are regulars and souls that I genuinely enjoy, cleints who respect me and men I believe are a blessing to those who know and work with them, and especially those that may love them or call them family. Good people. I’m not sure what this chapter of my journey is going to have in store but I’m prepared to face it without fear or reservation, because as I see it? My job is to make every moment feel like life its self until the last moment the slave can retire to the great Master of us all, that quaking moment between here and forever.  

 Last Wednesday after my class at Sugar I attended the wake for the untimely end of the Baltimore Eagle and bumped into an amazing Domme with the verbal gymnastics of the best stand up can offer and she was dressed like a pin up doll, veil and all. And I wondered, why can’t we all be like that? When I discussed my style with her, professionally speaking, her replay was,

 “Oh honey, you work so hard, that’s why they have to pay you for it.”

 Such a siren with the sweet tongue was she that still I do not know if I am flattered, or being scolded.

 I liked her. It’s a lonely sport, topping the top 1%.

 One. More, Eclipse. This week. Then you can all breath but my ruler is gonna play hopscotch across my sky for the NEXT two months so I’m just gonna keep riding this ride and asking for patience because GD if I couldn’t slap a bitch on a day like today #PMSRealness B r e e e a t h e

 See you on the 15th.

2. Yesterday's blog post is about domestic violence, the kind I have lived with most of my life until now, so I'm finally ready. Let's all take a deep breath.

DV stands for a lot for a lot of things. Not just my initials, Domina (D) Vontana (V), but also...domestic violence. This post is a coming out story. This is my emotional psychological and mental #metoo moment. I’ll never be capable of sharing the stories of my multiple sexual assaults. I’m too much of a scorpio for that shit. Last week I picked up a new pickup truck and it’s been glorious. I’ve started rapidly checking things off my to do list at the farm that have lingered for months, years even. And then finally today the clouds part, the sky clears and FOR FUCKING ONCE there is sun in the sky on a Saturday. If you live in the Mid Atlantic you appreciate what I know. For those of you who don’t let me say this - I arrived back from Asia the last week of April. I arrived at the farm the first week of May. It has rained. Every. God. Damn. Day. Since minus maaaybe...a total of 2 weeks. Today is one of those days that makes up those two weeks and so I took a nice long drive through the country in my new truck. And that’s when I realized...I haven't been yelled at by a man in a year and a half. That is a record in my recent history. And by recent I mean the past decade, at least. Because strong women get abused too. Honestly, I’ve often wondered if my abusers didn’t take more pleasure in hurting me BECAUSE I was a dominatrix. My father was a Pisces and a preacher. My mother was a Sagittarius and a musician. If you know your astrology your cringing right now, and probably laughing. Both my parents were trauma survivors. Especially my father. He was as queer as his daughter here and just as charismatic and beautiful. My mother was the codependent to his addict and as the eldest child and a daughter I was expected to perform the role of caretaker to both. And it sucked. It sucked every single day. There wasn’t a god damn day that went by that there wasn’t some potentially humiliating and or completely unjust situation to deal with while the world outside the window carried on like inside everything in my life wasn’t completely absurd, completely violent and completely religious, all at the same time. Mind fuck is not even the word. Oh and the cherry on this shit cake is that the context for all of this is rural, white America where everyone knows your name and your business. The only place to hide is literally, the corn fields. My parents did their best. I know this now. And it was not that great. I accept this now. And that is why for most of my adult life I have loved men who returned my love with vicious emotional and often violent attacks. Some of these men I am still friends with and they may read this and be upset at me and that’s a price I’m willing to pay because the very reason I haven't been screamed at in the past year and a half is because finally, finally...I am putting myself first everywhere in my life, not just in the dungeon. It is a choice who’s time had come and a choice that has made me more available to the people in my life, not less. If I hadn’t had the figurative and literal space of the dungeon to practice speaking up for myself and EXPECTING to be heard I would most certainly be less fulfilled than I am today. And today I am filled with all the things that make life worth living - love, friendship, passion, creativity, community and family. And I’m almost positive that the only reasons I’m coming up with this blog post now, at this moment, rather than any other I’ve contemplated revealing the truth of my struggle is probably the intense PMS I’ve experienced during the full lunar eclipse on my moon. So bare with me, babes. And what the actual fuck is my part in all of this? I stayed. I believed the lie that obligated me to fix these men. I honestly thought I could heal someone, all I lacked was resources. Then I found myself in a situation with limitless resources and it didn’t make a damn bit of difference - the addict stayed sick for a very long time. Long enough for me to finally skip country and fulfill my expat fantasies and also to finally quit my codependent habit. Now I am in control of my life in and out of the dungeon and no longer suffer fools in any area of my life. And for that every broken bone, every stint in the ER, every bruise and every scar is worth it because I am free at last. Psst. Come closer. I have another secret to tell you. The final reveal. Remember when they said it was scary out there in the real world and so maybe we closed our heart chakras to feel safe? Turns out that is a red flag for predators that sends them knocking at our doors. It was only after I took the chance and did the work that I found myself starting to attract the kind of people and experiences I had always longed for that’s why recently when I felt my heart trying to close again I reminded myself that THAT was NOT the path to security. My brother (biological): “Once a woman realizes she doesn’t need you? It’s over.” 3. Summer Tour Summary

This note is to tell you Mistress had a wonderful summer tour and will be taking the next week off to do even more fun stuff, the old fashion way - without social media.

 Three a.m. and the gypsy finally rests, alone, on her bed. It’s been ten days and four states. At least 1,000 miles.

 I.am. so. Blessed.

 Several years ago I was up for a full ride to UNC so I moved to Chapel Hill. Thus began a period of restoration. My work is very demanding and there are few opportunities for training or mentorship. I left my vanilla life behind when I went pro out of necessity, not choice. This past week I visited the very people who gave me back my vanilla life.

 It wasn’t until this week when I stepped back into the wooded paradise I called home for two years that I felt like I was finally back from Asia. That yard is where the Japanese Ume plum blossom first appeared in January and I didn’t even know what I was smelling, but it was fantastic. Fast forward four months it’s April and I was stepping off a plane in Tokyo with just a backpack. My dream to change my life yet again started in that yard, and it ended there. Last week.

 Some people know what they want. I know what I don’t want. The path to perfection for me is a process of elimination, not acquisition. Turns out, I want less of myself and more of others. I want more experiences and less things. I want love. And beauty. And art. And laughter. And dialogue. And play. And I’m an introvert. So quality not quantity.

 I’ve spent much of my life alone, in one form or another, often literally alone. I admit that part of this lifestyle is self sustaining for me, if not self serving. But all good things must come to an end. Now that I’m back my gypsy spirit has managed to work out a reasonable circuit: Baltimore, DC, rest at the farm, repeat.

 So I’ll see you there (www.sugartheshop.com)

[fandomshatelgbtqpeople]

(1) I'm sorry for this long ask but I'm looking for advice and I really love your blog. I grew up with parents with conservative views and I would uncomfortably agree with everything they say. They would both always pressure me to be “feminine”. So much so, that I just give in. My mom would even give me future marriage/motherhood advice even though I was still a teen. I just sit there silently and wait for her to finish. Now that I'm away from home, I'm learning more about the LGBTQ+ community.

2) I’ve learned that being queer is not as simple as being gay or transsexual. It’s a lot more complex than that and that there are more orientations that people still need to be educated about. Lately I’ve been a little braver with my parents talking about LGBTQ+ rights. It hurt that they would give me the “well you have your opinion and I have mine” defense. But in time, their viewpoints start to change. They would read posts and letters from the LGBTQ+ community and are now in support of

(3) their rights. They even went so far to apologize for how they raised me. It’s been easier to talk to them now. But as I learned more about LGBTQ+ rights, I’ve also been learning more about myself. I would think back at certain situations as a kid and thought “is it because I’m ____ that I thought that way” or “is it because I’m ____ that I was interested or not interested in this person”. There’s actually a show I love where I would replay scenes of a character having revelations of their

(4) orientation over and over again and still give them my undivided attention. I guess what I’m asking is, am I thinking too hard and too much? I believe I know my orientation, but I still want to learn more. Is it because that I didn’t grow up learning all these info about LGBTQ+ that I’m not sure about my own orientation? That I refused to learn about them as a kid because I was afraid what my parents would think of me? That it didn’t take until the beginnings of my adulthood to come to grips

(5) about myself? It seems that even people who came out knew who they were even when they were in the closet. Should I just finally accept it, in my mind, if though I don’t feel comfortable to say it out loud? I mean, I can’t even admit it anonymously. Is it weird that I’m projecting myself on one single fictional character? I’m sorry if I’m bugging you. What I love most about your blog is how intersectional you guys are. I hear that there’s discrimination even among different orientations. The

(6) racism sadly isn’t surprising. It’s hard enough being Asian, but to also be queer. Also, I want my parents to be the first people that I come out to. But at the same time, I’m scared, even if they are getting better. I’m an adult, and yet my parents still frightens me. Should I just stop caring what they would think of me?

Hey there, Nonny. How are you doing today? Thank you for coming to us with how you feel. It mustn’t have been easy, but I want you know that we’ve got your back! There seems to be a lot on your mind, so I hope you don’t mind if my reply’s a lengthy one.

Firstly, I’m very touched reading through your messages, because as a fellow queer Asian person living in a strict, conservative household myself, a lot of the things you mentioned really hit home for me. I hope what I have to say will be able to help you out, or at the very least comfort you, one way or another.

Am I thinking too hard and too much? I believe I know my orientation, but I still want to learn more. Is it because that I didn’t grow up learning all these info about LGBTQ+ that I’m not sure about my own orientation? That I refused to learn about them as a kid because I was afraid what my parents would think of me? That it didn’t take until the beginnings of my adulthood to come to grips about myself?

I think the thing about identities is that it’s a personal journey for everyone. How one feel about themselves and their identities can vary between people, as well as the ways of figuring out the details. Some have very deep thoughts and researches to how they identify, even if they’ve spent years learning about themselves or not, others consider them to be something natural to who they are from the get-go, and so on. 

It’s not your fault for not having everything figured out, nor is it something wrong. Plenty of queer adults only know that they’re queer when they’re much older, some didn’t even know until they’re senior citizens. “Knowing you’re queer” tends to be trivialized as this thing known from ages as young as early teenage years, when in fact, learning about the LGBTQ+ community is probably a luxury to many of us out there, especially among communities of color (due to the awful stigmas they have regarding non-cishet people). Many aren’t even allowed to think about the possibilities of them being anything more than Cisgender Heterosexual. While it’s sad, it’s the reality. Late beginnings of self-discovery are worth acknowledging and sympathizing, and they’re completely okay. Confusions and doubts are a natural part of everyone’s journey. They’re a telling that you need to have more patience with yourself. Don’t pressure things too much.

I’m happy for you, Nonny, that you’re making an attempt to know more about who you are. There’s never a thing called “thinking too hard and too much” when it comes to it (along with how you ID, your comfort with labels and self-presentations, etc.), because understanding helps you to connect with yourself better, and love yourself. I don’t think anyone ever really “stops” learning about themselves, even when they’re already sure of how they ID from early on. Identities have a lot of personal layers to them that only you can figure out for yourself, so it doesn’t matter if your own journey is longer, more elaborated, more complicated. Your experience is your own uniqueness. There’s no need for comparisons or set standards. 

It seems that even people who came out knew who they were even when they were in the closet. Should I just finally accept it, in my mind, if though I don’t feel comfortable to say it out loud?

This one, I’d say, is up to you. Self-acceptance is a difficult thing, I can empathize, so whether you end up accepting yourself or not, no one can police you on that. It’s all up to how YOUR comfort, YOUR safety, and that’s more important than anything.It’s okay if you don’t want to say who you are out loud. If you’re queer, you always belong to the LGBTQ+ community, no matter if you’re open or reserved about it. Give yourself more time, and relax. It’s going to be okay.

I mean, I can’t even admit it anonymously. Is it weird that I’m projecting myself on one single fictional character?

The interesting thing about fictional characters is how much we’d connect to them, even if our initial idea is just to enjoy a fictional person in a fictional story. This is why good representations of marginalized groups are so important! It’s a natural thing to deeply relate to s fictional character, especially when you’re in a place where you feel like you don’t belong. Heck, it’s even how a lot of people started to feel that maybe they might not be as Cishet as they thought. Fiction reflects reality to certain levels, ergo it affects reality. Many takes comfort in the characters they love. If that makes you happy, then go for it!

Also, I want my parents to be the first people that I come out to. But at the same time, I’m scared, even if they are getting better. I’m an adult, and yet my parents still frightens me. Should I just stop caring what they would think of me?

It’s nothing strange to be afraid of how your parents/family would react to you coming out, not to mention when they’re the people who had made such a tough environment for you to truly embrace yourself without fear. The Asian community has never been all that swell with the idea of queer people. Among us there are still so many conservatives, traditionalists and just overall bigots.You’re an adult and you’re still frightened of your parents, that’s honestly understandable. Our parents are the people we’ve always been relying on so much, and they’re the ones determining what we should and shouldn’t do, even how we should and shouldn’t feel about things. It’s suffocating. It’s exactly the reason why we’re so afraid of them in the first place - because they didn’t allow us to be who we are, or feel about certain things for ourselves, we’ve come to fear that the slightest difference in our own agency which doesn’t align to theirs are wrong, and should be shamed, even when it’s completely normal, hell, even when it’s the right mindset to have.

Saying this might sound a bit confusing, but I think whether you should stop caring about your parents’ opinions or not is also up to you. This includes the magnitude of impact your family has on your life, and whether or not you’ll be safe. Safety is always the most important thing. If you’re in a place where you can take care of yourself (even in the worst case scenario), then if you want to come out, you can always help them to open up to that idea more before you make the announcement. If your situation is that you can’t separate yourself from your family during the worst case scenario, then it’s better to not go for it, or if the situation is allowed to get better, you can always wait some more. There’s really no rush. You can’t imagine just how much time can make a difference in people’s thoughts.

It’s important to know that coming out is NOT a necessity. You don’t owe it to anyone. Your IDs are your own, and whether you want to share them is your own rights to do. Don’t feel guilty if you can’t come out right now, or even end up not coming out. Your well-being always comes first.

I hope things will work out well for you, Nonny, no matter what you choose to do. Take care of yourself, and take heart. We always have your back

~Mod H(ave waaaayyyy too many thoughts about this)

[chickenstuffedwithmozzarella]

Haaau. Oooh. Thats sweet. Do i really say holiii that much? I havent noticed. Okay, let's blame tumblr. It's not as if it works perfectly so...😂 Oooh, yes!! I'm in. Tag me in whatever you want. The meme of H and the lamb was hilarious. I love that comparison. Jajajajajja Gosh, can you imagine when he sings Familiar all by himself? Without JBalvin to do that part? If he sings the whole song when he comes to Spain, fans will lose it😂 (1). ((Any update of Liam the cat?))

HI!!!!! I don’t know! You have say it just a couple of times, really, but this girl says all the time and you reminded me of her, and now she reminds me of you,jejje. Honestly, that lamb is Honey! Jajajja. He’s like that too! He looks at you like: what? Do you have something to say? No? okay, bye. Jajaja. And let’s be honest, harry is very meme material,jajajajajja. (I’m so behind in his tour updates, btw. Haven’t seen anything🤦🏻‍♀️) Liam is coming in a couple of weeks? The 4th. Imagine if he sings in Spanish!!! I would die! If he does, he will do it Perfect (Perfect is capitalized bc of the song, omg). I’m sure he’s learning new words in Spanish. Hola sacapuntas, ¿como están todos? 🤣🤣🤣

Oh nono. Dont apologise. I was just laughing at myself. But thanks for the effort💖 This asks was easy to figure out. Oh, dont worry. Im more concerned about the inbox eating my asks (are they safe or are they lost? I never know) than you not answering. Really. (2)

Right? Like, you take the effort to write something and then you put it out there, without knowing if it will reach their destination or not. And at least with me, you know for sure if the ask is missing or not. But when you write people who has a lot of ask you’re like: did the ask get lost or did I say something rude? Are they ignoring me or have the blocked me??? Hjdfojriofjnoeirvjerv @staff!! Work on it!!!!

I dont like the sentence that goes “seria mucho mejor si participa”. Its nothing, but…me chirría* bcs of the possible undertone. Im very sensitive. Thats it. Though i must say that they compensate it with tge next sentence “voy a hacerte todo *lo que me permitas*”. Bcs consent!! Thats important. Oh, same. I dont usually hear anything in Spanish, mainly bcs i havent found anything that i like. Oh, you have almost the whole week free? Thats good!! (3) *i cant think of how to translate it xd

Jo, I haven’t read the lyrics yet (sorry Liam, I’m a very busy person,😅), but yes, you might be right. That sentence… if she isn’t participating… what are you doing then? And yes, that other sentence is better. I have to take my work (as a fan,lol) more seriously. Sdicsjdlncinsldcnlcjvls LOUIS JUST TWEETED LIAM???? Jfdbhkdbffvdfkv WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!!No, but my friends are idiots, jajajja, because I like a lot of Spanish music, actually. Like from the 80s and such,jajajajaj. And once, we were watching OT el reencuentro, and I knew all the songs and they wouldn’t stop teasing me, jajajaj. And o was like: see?? I like Spanish music. OLD Spanish music. Now, even Bisbal sings reguetón 🤦🏻‍♀️.I have to babysit my cousin on Wednesdays starting this week, so good. Bc I only work on Tuesdays and weekends. And someone else have offered me to babysit their children occasionally, so good good. More money for me to spend on the boys.

No idea what is Terra Chat. I guess i was too young? But i do remember messenger! You talked for 6h each day? Thats insane! I could not talk for so many hours. I would run out of topics or something. First time you failed anything, and you 6? Wow. Go big or go home, right? Jajajajaja. Luckily i dont think i’ve ever had any problem with the internet🤔. Its a lifesaver, really. (4)

Seriously, Terra’s chat was the boom back them, jajajja. But I was like 15, so maybe you were still starting to walk, jajajaa (I DON’T KNOW!!)? And yes we would talk for 6h every day. I would eat dinner at my computer, the days I would eat something at all. I lost 4kg the first week I started talking with him,jajajaja. IT WAS TRUE LOVE 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 (gaaa, I used to be the most embarrassing teenager you can imagine,jajaja (haven’t change much, I admit)) [philosophy moment of the day] Kids from today’s day should know the struggle to not be able to text every moment of every day. Having to compact your words into 180(?) caracteres, bc you only could send a text, and it costed money! EVERY. TEXT! Uffff, that gives personality to someone,jajaja. They have so easy to communicate these days😌. [end of philosophy moment]

You also have a JHO shirt????😍😍😍😍 one shirt for each? Well then, 2 more to go. I’ll swear, someday i’ll get myself something like that. What?! You didnt like Niall??? Soraya!! How so? He was lovely! Yes!! He (& his team) is doing so good! He’s conquering the world and im here for it. And also, his new dressing style is a blessing. I love the trousers he wears for the shows. He looks really handsome😍 (5)

The better part of them putting out they’re careers at different times is that you don’t notice you’re spending so much money,jajaja. Because everything is so expensive!!!! Don’t remind me, I’m ashamed I didn’t like him. 🤦🏻‍♀️. It’s not that I didn’t like like him. I just didn’t see anything special about him?? How??? Was I blind??? Probably! But now I just jsdkhfiowjefijowef  love everything about him. And yes, absolutely yes no his new style. I can’t wait to see him in person, omg!!! I’m so excited already, jajajaja.

Over again? Listen, can you belive that i discovered very recently that when they sang “hole in the middle of my heart like a polo” there werent talking about shirts?!! I used to hate that sentence bcs it made no sense to me! But they are talking about candys!! Of course. Solo songs. How did i forget?? Small stage? Mymy. You are a genius😂 Oh cool. I know nothing about cameras, but this one has an impressive name. JAJAJA. (6)

Jajajajajaja, I was shocked too when I knew about that too!  Jajajaja, I remember thinking, oh that’s makes much more sense that a shirt with a hole??? Jajajajajja. But I love that song live, seriously. You’d have to hear me and see me the concerts I perform in my car!!!  🤣🤣🤣🤣. I lose it with that song! My dream? To drive for 5-6-7 hours singing every 1d and solo songs, singing (screaming) every song, and with other four friends/fans. That’s my dream. Jajajaja. No dram job. No being rich. No nothing. Just singing 1d songs, jjajajaja.

Okaaay. I will call you if necessary. Same goes for you. JBieber and Zayn? What about them? Are they making a colabo or something? Are you asking about my toughts on them?? Sorry. Im a bit lost. (7)

No god, how could you Thing they would be collaborating, 😖, jajajajaa. No no. Your thoughts on them. Nah, I asked be I was going to tell you things my mom says about them, but I don’t want to offend you if you like them, jejeje.

Guess what. My friend (who is the most up-to-date on pop culture and music, and the one i always tell my theories to) called me yesterday “la reina del ocultismo”. (Just bcs i said that Shawn latest song sounded queer to me). JAJAJAJAJAJA. Anyway, I felt so proud. I might be crazy, but at least i have cool name. And i dont get bored🤷 (8)

LA REINA DEL OCULTISMO!!! Oh yes!!!! Jajajajajaa. Hey, I don’t follow very close Shawn, just what I see in my dash, or I’ve hear the songs they play on radio, but girl!!! He so gay!!! (And I don’t want to be offensive, okay? Offensive as in assuming he’s gay or something (wow, they just started playing It Isn’t in My Blood by Shawn,jajja) just because stereotypes). I saw and interview the other day, and he’s stance…mymy. But, well, again, I don’t know anything about him. “I might be crazy, […]And i dont get bored” #aboutme, jajjaja. And, please, share you’re crazy theories with me!!! Jajaja

YES YES YES. Of course i read fics. I read them everywhere, shamelessly. On the train, on the subway, at college, at family dinners (that one was risky, i must admit). JAJAJA. But sadly i have too many fics on the “to read” list. Bcs i dont feel like reading something with the length of a book on the phone, and also bcs once i start i cant stop until im done, so its quite inconvenient if i have to study. So, yes. I read them. What were you reading yesterday??? (9)

Same!! I read fics everywhere. I don’t worry to much about my family knowing I’m reading, bc no one understands English. But I freak out every time I let my iPad with a fic opened, bc they can see Harry’s or Louis’ name and I don’t want them to know I’m reading about them,😅😅. I run out of fics to read sometimes! That’s how much I read, jajajja. They’re always part of my bedtime routine, jajajjajaa. And, well, I was reading a fic, I liked it a lot, but I checked the author and she’s a bit “questionable”, so… I’ll reserve my opinion, if you don’t mind. I read someone’s opinion on the fact that people write stories about Harry and Louis, but then they don’t think they’re gay (as in part of LGBT+ community), and believe Louis is a dad, and all the rest. And they said why that is wrong, bc they’re fetishizing gay relationships. And it made sense. And if a queer person (I don’t know if I can use that word, sorry) says that, I have to believe it, y'know. So, when I read a fic from an author I don’t know, I check their blog, just to see. And I saw that, so I won’t be sharing the fic, sorry (which is a pity, but… 🤷🏻‍♀️)

Yeah. It was totally predictable. I know know. But…he looked cute. Well rested. Happy. And we had been deprived for too long so it was a gift to see him again. Thats it for tonight. Sleep well😙 (10)

He always looks well rested after a few days with his boy,jajajaj. I can’t wait to see what the future has planed for him. And also, I’m so curious about this new LiLo thing 🤔🤔. What’s all about? They now tweet each other. Liam talks about him all the time… we’ll see, we’ll see.

Well, that was a productive morning shift, jajaja. I’ve been almost 4h writing this,jajajajaa. The whole morning! Now, I have to check everything is correct before I close to go for lunch,jajajja. Thank youuuu. Bye bye!!

Pd: waaaa, I almost forget about my limo (liam,jajja). Well, I was going to bed, but before it I looked out the window, and called him. I was calling for a good half an hour. And then a black cat appeared, and I thought hey! they are coming! Then another black and wait cat came. And I didn’t stop calling Liam. And HE CAME!!! He came to my window, where Honey and I were. And I told him to jump, but his so fat… jajajjaa. So I called at my house phone so my mom would go to open the backdoor, and I went out from the front door. And when I reached my window he was up there, but he couldn’t go in, bc I had closed it, so Honey wouldn’t go out. And he jumped and went to the back door to wait for my mom no open the door, and then he run and run till my room, jajajaj, to see if there was food in his bowl. And, just that. They I “bath” him. And gave him a pill to desparasitarle(?), and put him a collar para las pulgas? Jajaja. And then I feed him. He was exhausted and hungry. My poor boy. I don’t know why he keeps going ou, if he doesn’t like it,jejeje.  Honey kept smelling him bc he smelled different, just FOR A DAY OUT!! (Jo, hablo TANTO!!!) Thanks for asking, love.

[babygirlgiles]

personal life rant below the cut, I guess. tw: abuse, trauma

Wow, I just??? Have so many??? Things??? Going on???

Like I’m actually sitting in bed with Chopin nocturnes on the bluetooth speaker on the brink of tears because my life has been the perfect shitstorm of everything all at once. And it would be fine?? If it wasn’t??? For my mother???

For context, in the next ten days I have four papers and three job applications due. Normally, that would be stressful and I’d be beyond burnt out by the end but yeah, it’d be manageable, I did basically the same thing earlier in the semester so I’m not too concerned. I cut my family out of my life completely about a month ago but let’s be real I probably hadn’t talked to anyone in my family for about a month before that. It’s been hard but tbh at the same time it’s bizarrely easy to bury my guilt prob because the joy and relief at not having to interact with people who abused me throughout my whole childhood, who actually had no business raising not just me but multiple children (not just bc shitty abusive people but??? poverty??? like abject poverty that).

(Let’s not all forget my therapist said last session that she was able to get in contact with the three different trauma therapy programs that rejected me and they all said it was because I was actually too traumatized. Like that shit is embedded too deep for any kind of short term program, no matter how intensive. Literally what kinda fuckin PTSD have you gotta give someone to where a program run by some place called The Victims of Crime Association is like nah)

ANYWAY. My mom used my school email (my whole ass school email that she probably had from years ago but whatever) to email me and be like “Why are you cutting me out of your life? Can you at least give me an explanation? Don’t you at least owe me that?” And like??? No. I don’t owe you anything. And I moved on.

But that night (Sunday) I had fucking rough nightmares and I mean I woke up screaming and then cried for a while and just decided to stay up until my alarm. Just reliving the actual physical pain of being beat up constantly, plus the constant fear and instability like... even writing this right now my breath got short and I feel anxious. And my dream brother said that things had only gotten worse since I’d left and that my father had broken his jaw-- which, like, I am guilt-ridden now.

Also I thought I was going to die at work today like I thought my heart was going to give out from the sheer horribleness of it all. Okay, so I’m in a one-on-one with my boss (I hate this person with an actual fiery passion, btw, and have for a while so that’s nothing new).They don’t know details but they know that I’m involved in some kind of situation that involves me being under school and police protection. For example, any information about me is on lock down. Like, a fellow student or even a professor can’t look up my school email and if they were to, for example, call the Registrar and ask, I’m immediately alerted.

Because of the actual literal protection I am under from the actual, literal government, my case manager here suggested “hey, maybe having a Facebook isn’t the best idea?” and it makes sense bc even though I never use it, even if I like accidentally check-in somewhere yeah that’s fuel to the fire. So I did what the school administration did and deleted my Facebook. So flash forward actual, literal WEEKS and I ask my boss a question. “Check the Facebook,” they say, with Facebook clearly open on their desktop (mind you this is the same boss who was two hours late to a meeting yesterday that was ultimately rescheduled to today that they were 45 minutes late to AGAIN). I say I no longer have Facebook. This does not come up again for actual WEEKS.

Flash forward weeks AGAIN. Today in my one-on-one this boss tells me I should really make a new Facebook so I can do work with it. I explain (for the 100000th time) that I cannot bc LITERAL POLICE PROTECTION. They tell me to use a fake name and use the work logo for the profile picture and like, yeah, sure, guess I could. I tell this boss that it would actually make me so uncomfortable though because, even though I know it’s safe, it would really fuck with my paranoia.

But this self proclaimed radical queer tells me that it’s an unfair distribution of labor if I don’t spend the 3 minutes making my own Facebook events and that I should then give it a try. Because fuck my peace of mind I guess. Anyway, later in the meeting they say that we should come together as a staff to help me the event I just created and organized (not with any of the space reservations or people coordinating mind you, but with the DECORATING) because it would be a fair way to distribute the labor. But it’s too much to ask for someone to make two Facebook events for me so I can keep the small thread of my sanity? I have never understood true anger until that moment. But whatever, I guess.

So yeah, I’ve felt on edge basically since. Here are a multitude of examples:

Had more nightmares last night and this morning when I was walking down the hall to the bathroom I was so scared I actually had to remind myself that I was safe over and over.

Bad OCD habits cropping back up (oh my fucking god if only I could tell you how dirty my hands have felt for absolutely 0 reason the past few days). 

Been snippy and irritable to people around me. I got drunk for the first time in... months the other night.

When a girl said something stupid in class today (and it was actually asinine, she said that white flight was “a return to community values” like okay, sweaty) I couldn’t stop myself from actively grimacing and I don’t normally have this much of an issue not being an ass.

When someone said “have a good day to me this morning”, I wanted to snap back for no good reason (when I looked a little further into this thought I turned up “I don’t deserve happiness” as the reason which is wild like classic 2011 Elliot bullshit.

But let’s be real. Okay, sure, maybe these are some small examples of little fuck ups triggered by weird circumstances but normally this shit doesn’t affect me at all. I go days without thinking about it lately, especially not having contact with these people. It’s just been the perfect shit storm of shitty papers plus shitty job plus shitty mother.

I think on the whole though I’m really happy. Like, I’ve been able to recover from a lot and create a full and meaningful life for myself. I take care of myself in a multitude of ways. I’m just gonna list some here so I can like finish this 20 page venting essay no one will read and then feel better.

I go to the gym and then exercise in healthy ways

And then after exercising in non-maladaptive ways, I eat meals to replenish

I go to sleep at a reasonable hour every night so I can go to the gym and then have a good day

I light all the candles in my room so it smells good. I also keep my room tidy because it makes me feel good

I listen to soothing music

I am studying a subject that I love and having thoughtful conversations with my professors and fellow students on the material and honestly it’s the best

I work with two researchers and not only do I #makemoney, I get to look into super interesting stuff

Also I’m loved by my friends and adults in my life so that’s pretty lit

Top surgery is basically right around the corner

So it my name/gender marker change

T is going great!!

I shower everyday which may seem like a small thing but that’s some #NewYearNewElliot shit

I take my meds (what a concept)

I don’t drink myself into a coma four nights a week anymore like wow??? Sobriety???

I’m going to finish with a degree I want, surrounded by people who love me, very soon and that’s 10/10

Anyway, this will pass and it’ll be fine so yeah.

[prohealths]

Boys In Chairs: That Time I Couldn’t Masturbate By Myself Anymore

In the summer of 2014, I wrote a blog post entitled, “Boys and Girls in Chairs: The ‘Right’ to Get Off”. In the post, I spoke pretty candidly about my experiences with masturbation and the trials and realities of performing this act when one is as disabled as I am. It was light and funny with a few quips here and there about “choking the chicken thrown in for brevity”. Towards the end of that post I asked, “What happens if one can’t do it themselves?” At the time, I was talking about a hypothetical person. I never considered — really considered — the realities of what it might feel like to not be able to achieve self-pleasure. I was very happy that I was, in my limited fashion, able to please myself; using only one finger and my thumb I could bring my Queer Crippled self to states of ecstasy independently, and that was indeed a liberation like none I had ever experienced before.

Over the past while, I have noticed that my disability has changed over time. With my spastic Cerebral Palsy being what it is, my dexterity has decreased while my spasticity and muscular tension has increased (I feel like there might be a sex pun in there somewhere). By all accounts this is a pretty common occurrence for people who experience my level of disability; what the doctors refer to as “severely disabled”, but what I will refer to as “severely sexy”. On the one hand, I’m not surprised or stunned by this development, but I have to admit that I am angry and scared of what this means for my sexual health and mental well being overall. I worry about what this means for me as a disabled person, sexual being and as a queer cripple working in sex and disability.

I remember when it first happened a while back. I wasn’t able to sleep late at night. I was lying in my bed listening to the sounds of night envelop me; the ticking of my clock, cars revving their engines and people coming home from nights out. I could see the bright red lights that bathed the city as I stared at my iPhone as it blinked 3 A.M. The best way to cure this bout of insomnia was to get off, I thought. I typed in my favorite porn site into my phone, and as the scene was starting I snaked my hand under the covers. I tried to get my thumb in its familiar position so that I could start enjoying myself. I immediately noticed a marked difference; my hand wasn’t doing what I wanted it to. The muscle contractures were too strong, and I couldn’t relax enough to find any rhythm or momentum. I was doubly annoyed because I could hear the muted, mumbled voices of the porn stars enjoying each other in their scene on my phone. I bet that they had no clue how much I wanted to rub one out to them. I was simultaneously angered that I hadn’t heeded the advice of my physiotherapist when I was younger. I wish I had done those seemingly unimportant finger strengthening exercises then – that mobility would come in handy now (pun definitely intended). Goddamnit! I was determined to keep trying. I contorted my body and hands as best I could, but to no avail. For a split second, I began laughing uncontrollably thinking, “Maybe God does punish you for masturbating. Or maybe it’s just the disabled kids?” I then let out a reserved sigh of anger and frustration, which was wrapped in a huge overwhelming ball of fear and uncertainty that I can’t even really describe in words. I rolled over in my bed and forced myself to turn off the porn and try to sleep. The fear churned in my stomach and I started to cry, angry that this was happening, and thinking, “What do I do now? Why me?”

I had so many questions that were whirling around in my head. I wondered what my sex life would look like now? I was worried that people would see me as even less of a sexual being than they already did. Would guys still want to do me? Am I still sexually attractive? There was even a small part of me that was concerned with my performance of masculinity as a queer man with disabilities. Intellectually, I understand and agree that queer men’s obsession with “masc4masc” is rooted in oppression, internalized homophobia and frankly utter bullshit, but I can’t pretend that this recent change in my functionality didnt make me wary of my status as a disabled man. There’s something very primal, independent and downright masculine about a guy being able to whip his dick out and please himself if he so chooses. This is his moment to be with himself, it’s all his, and now that sense of bodily autonomy was stripped away from me without warning. That hurts, there’s no other way to say it. I also considered my professional persona with my brand DisabilityAfterDark. I didn’t know if I was even really allowed to call myself a sex educator anymore. How could I talk about sex if I couldn’t even have it with myself?

All those feelings kept nagging at me and bothering me, and they haven’t really subsided even now. Everytime I see someone stroking themselves (which, when you are as horny as I am, and work in sex positivity, is a fair bit), I get resentful of their ability and the privilege they are employing that I no longer have access to. I want to scream at them, “imagine what would happen if you couldn’t do that anymore! How would you feel?” I wish they could understand how I feel about this loss.

I have always been someone who adapted to things thrown at me. I often didn’t have a choice. But, honestly, how the fuck does one adapt to this? Who do you turn to? I’ve thought about asking my friends for help here, but this feels like a definite crossing of boundaries that even for me, someone who prides themselves on being a saucy, seated individual and a provocateur with disabilities, this feels somewhat unnerving. How would that conversation even start? “Hey man, if you’re not too busy today, do you think you might help me get off?” You’re not meant to ask your friends these types of questions, and even considering that as an option feels altogether icky and off-putting.

There have been a rare few moments in which I have been genuinely angered by my disability. I have always considered it an integral part of me. I still do, of course, but in many ways this feels like bodily betrayal. I don’t have much else to say, except that I am worried that I will have blue balls or have random emissions without wanting to. I miss all that which I held (and rubbed) so dearly and hope that I can calibrate my own joystick again soon.

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Boys In Chairs: That Time I Couldn’t Masturbate By Myself Anymore syndicated from http://ift.tt/2llz9hF

[yes-dal456]

Boys In Chairs: That Time I Couldn't Masturbate By Myself Anymore

In the summer of 2014, I wrote a blog post entitled, "Boys and Girls in Chairs: The 'Right' to Get Off". In the post, I spoke pretty candidly about my experiences with masturbation and the trials and realities of performing this act when one is as disabled as I am. It was light and funny with a few quips here and there about "choking the chicken thrown in for brevity". Towards the end of that post I asked, "What happens if one can't do it themselves?" At the time, I was talking about a hypothetical person. I never considered -- really considered -- the realities of what it might feel like to not be able to achieve self-pleasure. I was very happy that I was, in my limited fashion, able to please myself; using only one finger and my thumb I could bring my Queer Crippled self to states of ecstasy independently, and that was indeed a liberation like none I had ever experienced before. Over the past while, I have noticed that my disability has changed over time. With my spastic Cerebral Palsy being what it is, my dexterity has decreased while my spasticity and muscular tension has increased (I feel like there might be a sex pun in there somewhere). By all accounts this is a pretty common occurrence for people who experience my level of disability; what the doctors refer to as "severely disabled", but what I will refer to as "severely sexy". On the one hand, I'm not surprised or stunned by this development, but I have to admit that I am angry and scared of what this means for my sexual health and mental well being overall. I worry about what this means for me as a disabled person, sexual being and as a queer cripple working in sex and disability. I remember when it first happened a while back. I wasn't able to sleep late at night. I was lying in my bed listening to the sounds of night envelop me; the ticking of my clock, cars revving their engines and people coming home from nights out. I could see the bright red lights that bathed the city as I stared at my iPhone as it blinked 3 A.M. The best way to cure this bout of insomnia was to get off, I thought. I typed in my favorite porn site into my phone, and as the scene was starting I snaked my hand under the covers. I tried to get my thumb in its familiar position so that I could start enjoying myself. I immediately noticed a marked difference; my hand wasn't doing what I wanted it to. The muscle contractures were too strong, and I couldn't relax enough to find any rhythm or momentum. I was doubly annoyed because I could hear the muted, mumbled voices of the porn stars enjoying each other in their scene on my phone. I bet that they had no clue how much I wanted to rub one out to them. I was simultaneously angered that I hadn't heeded the advice of my physiotherapist when I was younger. I wish I had done those seemingly unimportant finger strengthening exercises then - that mobility would come in handy now (pun definitely intended). Goddamnit! I was determined to keep trying. I contorted my body and hands as best I could, but to no avail. For a split second, I began laughing uncontrollably thinking, "Maybe God does punish you for masturbating. Or maybe it's just the disabled kids?" I then let out a reserved sigh of anger and frustration, which was wrapped in a huge overwhelming ball of fear and uncertainty that I can't even really describe in words. I rolled over in my bed and forced myself to turn off the porn and try to sleep. The fear churned in my stomach and I started to cry, angry that this was happening, and thinking, "What do I do now? Why me?" I had so many questions that were whirling around in my head. I wondered what my sex life would look like now? I was worried that people would see me as even less of a sexual being than they already did. Would guys still want to do me? Am I still sexually attractive? There was even a small part of me that was concerned with my performance of masculinity as a queer man with disabilities. Intellectually, I understand and agree that queer men's obsession with "masc4masc" is rooted in oppression, internalized homophobia and frankly utter bullshit, but I can't pretend that this recent change in my functionality didnt make me wary of my status as a disabled man. There's something very primal, independent and downright masculine about a guy being able to whip his dick out and please himself if he so chooses. This is his moment to be with himself, it's all his, and now that sense of bodily autonomy was stripped away from me without warning. That hurts, there's no other way to say it. I also considered my professional persona with my brand DisabilityAfterDark. I didn't know if I was even really allowed to call myself a sex educator anymore. How could I talk about sex if I couldn't even have it with myself? All those feelings kept nagging at me and bothering me, and they haven't really subsided even now. Everytime I see someone stroking themselves (which, when you are as horny as I am, and work in sex positivity, is a fair bit), I get resentful of their ability and the privilege they are employing that I no longer have access to. I want to scream at them, "imagine what would happen if you couldn't do that anymore! How would you feel?" I wish they could understand how I feel about this loss. I have always been someone who adapted to things thrown at me. I often didn't have a choice. But, honestly, how the fuck does one adapt to this? Who do you turn to? I've thought about asking my friends for help here, but this feels like a definite crossing of boundaries that even for me, someone who prides themselves on being a saucy, seated individual and a provocateur with disabilities, this feels somewhat unnerving. How would that conversation even start? "Hey man, if you're not too busy today, do you think you might help me get off?" You're not meant to ask your friends these types of questions, and even considering that as an option feels altogether icky and off-putting. There have been a rare few moments in which I have been genuinely angered by my disability. I have always considered it an integral part of me. I still do, of course, but in many ways this feels like bodily betrayal. I don't have much else to say, except that I am worried that I will have blue balls or have random emissions without wanting to. I miss all that which I held (and rubbed) so dearly and hope that I can calibrate my own joystick again soon.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from http://ift.tt/2lldkOG from Blogger http://ift.tt/2kFvqLZ

[liberallifeblog]

Boys In Chairs: That Time I Couldn't Masturbate By Myself Anymore

In the summer of 2014, I wrote a blog post entitled, "Boys and Girls in Chairs: The 'Right' to Get Off". In the post, I spoke pretty candidly about my experiences with masturbation and the trials and realities of performing this act when one is as disabled as I am. It was light and funny with a few quips here and there about "choking the chicken thrown in for brevity". Towards the end of that post I asked, "What happens if one can't do it themselves?" At the time, I was talking about a hypothetical person. I never considered -- really considered -- the realities of what it might feel like to not be able to achieve self-pleasure. I was very happy that I was, in my limited fashion, able to please myself; using only one finger and my thumb I could bring my Queer Crippled self to states of ecstasy independently, and that was indeed a liberation like none I had ever experienced before. Over the past while, I have noticed that my disability has changed over time. With my spastic Cerebral Palsy being what it is, my dexterity has decreased while my spasticity and muscular tension has increased (I feel like there might be a sex pun in there somewhere). By all accounts this is a pretty common occurrence for people who experience my level of disability; what the doctors refer to as "severely disabled", but what I will refer to as "severely sexy". On the one hand, I'm not surprised or stunned by this development, but I have to admit that I am angry and scared of what this means for my sexual health and mental well being overall. I worry about what this means for me as a disabled person, sexual being and as a queer cripple working in sex and disability. I remember when it first happened a while back. I wasn't able to sleep late at night. I was lying in my bed listening to the sounds of night envelop me; the ticking of my clock, cars revving their engines and people coming home from nights out. I could see the bright red lights that bathed the city as I stared at my iPhone as it blinked 3 A.M. The best way to cure this bout of insomnia was to get off, I thought. I typed in my favorite porn site into my phone, and as the scene was starting I snaked my hand under the covers. I tried to get my thumb in its familiar position so that I could start enjoying myself. I immediately noticed a marked difference; my hand wasn't doing what I wanted it to. The muscle contractures were too strong, and I couldn't relax enough to find any rhythm or momentum. I was doubly annoyed because I could hear the muted, mumbled voices of the porn stars enjoying each other in their scene on my phone. I bet that they had no clue how much I wanted to rub one out to them. I was simultaneously angered that I hadn't heeded the advice of my physiotherapist when I was younger. I wish I had done those seemingly unimportant finger strengthening exercises then - that mobility would come in handy now (pun definitely intended). Goddamnit! I was determined to keep trying. I contorted my body and hands as best I could, but to no avail. For a split second, I began laughing uncontrollably thinking, "Maybe God does punish you for masturbating. Or maybe it's just the disabled kids?" I then let out a reserved sigh of anger and frustration, which was wrapped in a huge overwhelming ball of fear and uncertainty that I can't even really describe in words. I rolled over in my bed and forced myself to turn off the porn and try to sleep. The fear churned in my stomach and I started to cry, angry that this was happening, and thinking, "What do I do now? Why me?" I had so many questions that were whirling around in my head. I wondered what my sex life would look like now? I was worried that people would see me as even less of a sexual being than they already did. Would guys still want to do me? Am I still sexually attractive? There was even a small part of me that was concerned with my performance of masculinity as a queer man with disabilities. Intellectually, I understand and agree that queer men's obsession with "masc4masc" is rooted in oppression, internalized homophobia and frankly utter bullshit, but I can't pretend that this recent change in my functionality didnt make me wary of my status as a disabled man. There's something very primal, independent and downright masculine about a guy being able to whip his dick out and please himself if he so chooses. This is his moment to be with himself, it's all his, and now that sense of bodily autonomy was stripped away from me without warning. That hurts, there's no other way to say it. I also considered my professional persona with my brand DisabilityAfterDark. I didn't know if I was even really allowed to call myself a sex educator anymore. How could I talk about sex if I couldn't even have it with myself? All those feelings kept nagging at me and bothering me, and they haven't really subsided even now. Everytime I see someone stroking themselves (which, when you are as horny as I am, and work in sex positivity, is a fair bit), I get resentful of their ability and the privilege they are employing that I no longer have access to. I want to scream at them, "imagine what would happen if you couldn't do that anymore! How would you feel?" I wish they could understand how I feel about this loss. I have always been someone who adapted to things thrown at me. I often didn't have a choice. But, honestly, how the fuck does one adapt to this? Who do you turn to? I've thought about asking my friends for help here, but this feels like a definite crossing of boundaries that even for me, someone who prides themselves on being a saucy, seated individual and a provocateur with disabilities, this feels somewhat unnerving. How would that conversation even start? "Hey man, if you're not too busy today, do you think you might help me get off?" You're not meant to ask your friends these types of questions, and even considering that as an option feels altogether icky and off-putting. There have been a rare few moments in which I have been genuinely angered by my disability. I have always considered it an integral part of me. I still do, of course, but in many ways this feels like bodily betrayal. I don't have much else to say, except that I am worried that I will have blue balls or have random emissions without wanting to. I miss all that which I held (and rubbed) so dearly and hope that I can calibrate my own joystick again soon.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

Boys In Chairs: That Time I Couldn't Masturbate By Myself Anymore posted first on http://ift.tt/2kDxLY4

[imreviewblog]

Boys In Chairs: That Time I Couldn't Masturbate By Myself Anymore

In the summer of 2014, I wrote a blog post entitled, "Boys and Girls in Chairs: The 'Right' to Get Off". In the post, I spoke pretty candidly about my experiences with masturbation and the trials and realities of performing this act when one is as disabled as I am. It was light and funny with a few quips here and there about "choking the chicken thrown in for brevity". Towards the end of that post I asked, "What happens if one can't do it themselves?" At the time, I was talking about a hypothetical person. I never considered -- really considered -- the realities of what it might feel like to not be able to achieve self-pleasure. I was very happy that I was, in my limited fashion, able to please myself; using only one finger and my thumb I could bring my Queer Crippled self to states of ecstasy independently, and that was indeed a liberation like none I had ever experienced before. Over the past while, I have noticed that my disability has changed over time. With my spastic Cerebral Palsy being what it is, my dexterity has decreased while my spasticity and muscular tension has increased (I feel like there might be a sex pun in there somewhere). By all accounts this is a pretty common occurrence for people who experience my level of disability; what the doctors refer to as "severely disabled", but what I will refer to as "severely sexy". On the one hand, I'm not surprised or stunned by this development, but I have to admit that I am angry and scared of what this means for my sexual health and mental well being overall. I worry about what this means for me as a disabled person, sexual being and as a queer cripple working in sex and disability. I remember when it first happened a while back. I wasn't able to sleep late at night. I was lying in my bed listening to the sounds of night envelop me; the ticking of my clock, cars revving their engines and people coming home from nights out. I could see the bright red lights that bathed the city as I stared at my iPhone as it blinked 3 A.M. The best way to cure this bout of insomnia was to get off, I thought. I typed in my favorite porn site into my phone, and as the scene was starting I snaked my hand under the covers. I tried to get my thumb in its familiar position so that I could start enjoying myself. I immediately noticed a marked difference; my hand wasn't doing what I wanted it to. The muscle contractures were too strong, and I couldn't relax enough to find any rhythm or momentum. I was doubly annoyed because I could hear the muted, mumbled voices of the porn stars enjoying each other in their scene on my phone. I bet that they had no clue how much I wanted to rub one out to them. I was simultaneously angered that I hadn't heeded the advice of my physiotherapist when I was younger. I wish I had done those seemingly unimportant finger strengthening exercises then - that mobility would come in handy now (pun definitely intended). Goddamnit! I was determined to keep trying. I contorted my body and hands as best I could, but to no avail. For a split second, I began laughing uncontrollably thinking, "Maybe God does punish you for masturbating. Or maybe it's just the disabled kids?" I then let out a reserved sigh of anger and frustration, which was wrapped in a huge overwhelming ball of fear and uncertainty that I can't even really describe in words. I rolled over in my bed and forced myself to turn off the porn and try to sleep. The fear churned in my stomach and I started to cry, angry that this was happening, and thinking, "What do I do now? Why me?" I had so many questions that were whirling around in my head. I wondered what my sex life would look like now? I was worried that people would see me as even less of a sexual being than they already did. Would guys still want to do me? Am I still sexually attractive? There was even a small part of me that was concerned with my performance of masculinity as a queer man with disabilities. Intellectually, I understand and agree that queer men's obsession with "masc4masc" is rooted in oppression, internalized homophobia and frankly utter bullshit, but I can't pretend that this recent change in my functionality didnt make me wary of my status as a disabled man. There's something very primal, independent and downright masculine about a guy being able to whip his dick out and please himself if he so chooses. This is his moment to be with himself, it's all his, and now that sense of bodily autonomy was stripped away from me without warning. That hurts, there's no other way to say it. I also considered my professional persona with my brand DisabilityAfterDark. I didn't know if I was even really allowed to call myself a sex educator anymore. How could I talk about sex if I couldn't even have it with myself? All those feelings kept nagging at me and bothering me, and they haven't really subsided even now. Everytime I see someone stroking themselves (which, when you are as horny as I am, and work in sex positivity, is a fair bit), I get resentful of their ability and the privilege they are employing that I no longer have access to. I want to scream at them, "imagine what would happen if you couldn't do that anymore! How would you feel?" I wish they could understand how I feel about this loss. I have always been someone who adapted to things thrown at me. I often didn't have a choice. But, honestly, how the fuck does one adapt to this? Who do you turn to? I've thought about asking my friends for help here, but this feels like a definite crossing of boundaries that even for me, someone who prides themselves on being a saucy, seated individual and a provocateur with disabilities, this feels somewhat unnerving. How would that conversation even start? "Hey man, if you're not too busy today, do you think you might help me get off?" You're not meant to ask your friends these types of questions, and even considering that as an option feels altogether icky and off-putting. There have been a rare few moments in which I have been genuinely angered by my disability. I have always considered it an integral part of me. I still do, of course, but in many ways this feels like bodily betrayal. I don't have much else to say, except that I am worried that I will have blue balls or have random emissions without wanting to. I miss all that which I held (and rubbed) so dearly and hope that I can calibrate my own joystick again soon.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from Healthy Living - The Huffington Post http://huff.to/2k0dA9o