#lgbtq writing

[clinical-space-podcast]

I mean, there's always been some straight characters in fiction podcasts, occasionally. I'm not saying there hasn't. I'm just saying these days it feels like every. single. one. you listen to. just has to have a straight character in it. Sometimes multiple! For no reason too! I mean, how many straight people do you even know, personally?

It's just not very realistic is what I'm saying.

I don't have a problem with straight people, I just wish they wouldn't throw it in our faces all the time, you know?

[hananabanana2010]

Wanna have fun with me?🍆🍑🤤, HMU on telegram @Hannah2023BA 👈for booking only

[bugboy-behaviour]

a collection of queer Palestinian stories in Gaza from queering the map.

Don't let pink washing get to your head. Queer people live everywhere, including in Gaza, where they are currently being massacred.

images are from the tiktok link i attached, there's even more there.

[shadybiotics]

T a r g e t p r a c t i s e

× pairing: Grayson x reader

× words: 887

× content: fem!reader, subtle student/teacher dynamic, implied age gap, suggestive, reader is pining

× summary: You are at the training range working on bettering your aim, but seeing you struggle Sheriff Grayson offers you her help.

[ A/N ] Something shorter cus i rewatched Arcane for the nth time and fell for Grayson all over again... Also i know nothing abt guns so dont expect this to be accurate or anything ok im just gay and horny for older women.

With the rifle securely in your grasp you focused in on the wooden target planks in the distance as the cold winter wind passed gently through your hair.

With one eye shut and a slight tilt of the head you took aim, and pulled the trigger.

A sharp bang echoed through the sparse woods but the bullet barely grazed the stand.

"Dammit" you cursed under your breath.

You were so shocked by your own amateurishness that you failed to register the footsteps approaching. Almost immediately you were ready to take aim once again and give it another try.

"Your stance is off" A voice stated plainly from behind you. In the same second that it almost startled you you quickly recognized the voice. Sheriff Grayson.

You didnt know she was watching the whole time.

"Im fine" You scoffed stubbornly without turning, not wanting to meet her heavy gaze. Instead you tried focusing back on the target once more. Rolling your shoulders you took a new stance until you felt a pair of hands sliver up yours that held the gun, making your breath hitch as the Sheriff took charge of the gun and you.

Grayson usually kept to herself and stayed within her own business, but with you, she always seemed so eager to help. To guide your ways. You assumed it all came down to you being not as experienced as the other enforcers, thats what you always told yourself.

She almost chuckled. "Oh is that so" Her raspy voice with a tinge of humour was right in your ear as she leaned closer to you.

But her touch only made you falter more. Her gloved hands made yours almost jitter out of nervousness. The woman was much older than you, and much more experienced. Definitely more experienced with a gun, amongst other things.

You have always looked up to her as the Sheriff of Piltover and head of the enforcer team, but you couldnt deny the feelings that sprouted within you quicker than you wouldve liked. Overtime, respect grew into interest, adoration into excitement.

With a firm grip on your hands Grayson guided you and thus the gun, straightening out its direction. All of the focus you cultivated quickly left the targets that sat in the far distance and instead latched onto Graysons touch on your skin. Your heart was pounding.

Her one hand kept the rifle steady while her other wrapped around your waist suddenly, making you hold your breath for a second, and pressed you assertively against her. Your eyes widened.

"Straighten yourself" she commanded.

Immediately you did as you were told.

Her tender yet demanding ordering you around, positioning you to her liking quickly took effect on you and made your core tense up with developing desire that you tried your best to ignore.

But for a moment, you wished she had grabbed you harder, dug her fingers deeper as she held you closer. Roughly pulled you to her liking. . . or gripped your neck tightly while-

With a gasp of surprise you were abruptly ripped out of your fantasies as she slid her thigh between yours, separating them and your feet. Grayson hand fixed on your hip helping you retain balance. Skin almost burning at her touch. Even in the cold winter afternoon your face began feeling incredibly hot.

"Legs apart"

God, you wished she had said that under different circumstances.

You tried your best to focus and not let your mind wander. She leaned her head closer checking the alignment of the muzzle and the target, her cheek grazing yours ever so slightly as she looked over. Her slow and controlled breaths contrasting your shallow ones.

This was insanity. She had to know what she was doing to you and you swore she would soon hear the thrilled pounding of your heart. You felt as though you might break at any moment if Grayson didnt stop.

"Take aim"

You tilted your head somewhat and intensely eyed the target, or at least tried to but your sight kept darting between it and Graysons hand, which still held yours. As you waited for her next order the older womans hand reached up without warning and gently tucked few loose strands of hair behind your ear. In that moment seconds felt like hours, the womans movements slow and deliberate. A shaky sigh escaped you.

Fuck. You shut your eyes trying to recollect yourself before your head became too fuzzy but you werent allowed no break.

"Shoot"

With your eyes still shut you instead put all your trust into her judgement and pulled the trigger without looking.

Bang

You slowly took a peak as you opened your eyes. Sight passing through the thin smoke leaving the barrel and onto the wooden target ahead now with a new cavity.

A perfect shot.

"Good job" She complimented proudly after a moment, still holding onto you for longer than necessary, before letting go. As Grayson stepped back you didnt dare to turn, scared to reveal how flustered you have become in these short but tense moments, but you trusted she would be smiling.

You dropped your shoulders, finally able to relax.

"And dress better next time, you shiver too much" She added half jokingly as you listened to her footsteps leaving your side. Leaving you hot and bothered.

[yuriskies]

Can't recommend the Otherside Picnic novels enough as a Pride Month read. I could write paragraphs about how good the romance is, the humor of its narrator accidentally casting sanity damage on the people around her, its handling of family trauma and the downstream effects on relationships, or its brilliant use of ghost stories and cognitive science fiction to really take apart and understand queerness, but honestly it's best just experienced for yourself. It all comes together in the most beautiful and ethereal way, and I don't think you will regret the effort at all.

[itgetsbetter]

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ Call for writing submissions: we want your queer back-to-school blogs! 🍎✏️

We're looking for new (very gay) guest blogs for the blog at itgetsbetter.org relating to the back-to-school season!

Are you an LGBTQ+ high school student, recent grad, GSA advisor, or queer teacher?

What's something you want fellow LGBTQ+ students to know going into this next school year? How about a queer school survival guide with tips for navigating bullying and bathroom bills, making new friends, or finding trusting adults? Or maybe the story of "that one teacher" who made a difference for you?

You can read the guidelines, see example blogs, and submit a piece here (accepted submissions are paid)!

Plus see other topics we'd like to highlight soon, including:

❤️ Hispanic Heritage Month

🧡 Bi Awareness Week

💛 LGBTQ+ History Month

💚 NCOD

💙 Indigenous Peoples' Day

💜 Ace Awareness Week

[lgbtqwriting]

imagine if people wrote queer characters like so many men write women. “she gayed gayly down the rainbow sidewalk”

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Regina George X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Fluffy Prompt [Sneak-Peek]

• Takes place after the occurrence of the film [2024 ver. with Reneé Rapp]

• Some mild changes made to some elements of the story

• The prompt will be dropping in its entirety on Saturday + There will be more!

• This is another new idea, but does not impact the other ideas I am already writing for!

!TW: Being stuck in a toxic relationship, insult(s), mention of previously being kidnapped, implied suffering from PTSD + Depression + Separation Anxiety + Anxiety in general, mention of previously being abused + injury detail - If I’ve missed any, please let me know ❤️!

Birds’ Eye View/Heart’s Desire

“Are you done, or-?” You inquired, raising your eyebrows, after Regina threw another line of insults at you; you’d told her to rant, seeing she needed it, but…

“No,” she answered, without hesitation, even though she appeared a little exasperated, wincing, before she looked away from you, and sighed heavily, knowing she shouldn’t get you involved with all that was currently frustrating her following her recent arguments with her boyfriend, Shane Olman, especially when you didn’t even know him, and hadn’t ever talked to him, only a recent student at Northshore High School, managing to take on Senior Year after you’d been expelled from your last school. “Yes,” she added, barely audibly, and you would appear surprised, not expecting such an answer from her as you tilted your head partially, a pained as well as skeptical expression on your face; you didn’t want her to feel as if she couldn’t talk to you about all that was burdening her the way you feared she did, hoping against hope - however - at the same time, that she had instead managed to clear her mind a little, until she crumpled, and looked up at you again with a hurt look on her face before she said ‘no’, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. “N-No, I’m not, I-.. I’m-..” She shrugged, before awkwardly bowing her head, and you would nod gravely, smiling sadly over at her, before you timidly inched closer to her to gently squeeze her shoulder, prompting her to express relief, her heart skipping a beat, before she glanced up at you again, and felt strong enough to continue just by having her gaze lock with your own in the best way possible. “I hate you,” she spat, her gaze never leaving your’s, whilst you couldn’t help, but smirk in her direction, amused though you knew you shouldn’t be, but it didn’t stop your heart from aching as you wondered who had hurt her the way you could tell that they had, before she’d come back to your Uncle’s ranch with you. “Y-You stink, and I hope an air conditioner falls on you,” she added sharply, clearly through gritted teeth, whilst you appeared taken aback - of all things you thought she might say, that was one of the least you’d been expecting to hear, but it still made you have to fight back a giggle regardless of how it had shocked you, at first, “okay.” She drew in another shallow breath, before releasing it through her nose like you’d told her to, just to try and calm her down when she’d almost broken one of the mucking up shovels you and her had been using to tidy up the horses’ stalls here. “Okay, I - I think I’m-.. I think I’m done, now,” she stated, and you would almost feel disappointed, though at the same time of course you were relieved to know that she seemed at least somewhat relieved, now that she’d slung out yet another insult in your direction, though she wasn’t directing anything of what she meant toward you; she couldn’t.

The thought startled her, just for a moment, as she winced again, and forced a smile in your direction, trying to hide that such a small thing had flustered her the way nothing else ever had before.

“That’s good,” you stated, and she would hesitate, before nodding, and smiling softly over at you, this time the smile was genuine; it was hard not to allow the corners of her lips to curve upward whenever she was around you, “that’s always good - so-.. are you ready to talk about it, now?”

She would appear taken aback by your question, her smile faltering a little, before she awkwardly cleared her throat, and nodded slowly, though you could tell she was reluctant to discuss what had been happening between her and Shane recently.

“I guess,” she answered, and you would smile warmly back at her, glad that she felt able to talk about such things with you - it even made you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, like a sense of pride was washing over you in response to your hope that she seemed to trust you, just as much as you trusted her, and somehow had ever since you’d first met her that day; the day she’d first been sent here by her mother to distract her, and take her mind off of the tense situation between her and Shane, before you’d even started at Northshore High. “But - if we’re gonna talk about it,” she began again, and you would tense up for a moment, wondering what she might be about to say, next; you were always terrified that maybe something bad would happen - that maybe she would up, and abandon you, though you couldn’t imagine why. You always put such dread up to how you’d been kidnapped, and abused the way you and, a few years ago now; you were quite young when it happened, and the nights you’d spent screaming and crying had never left your mind, especially not at night, where your nightmares were at their most vivid moments. For a moment, you remembered your kidnapper coming in to kick at your side for how you’d tried to call your home, after successfully sneaking out of his basement, but that wasn’t the worst of the punishment; he spent every night after that breaking each and every one of your fingers, and he would have moved onto your wrist, or toes, if the police didn’t locate you when they did. You winced at the memory, but you wouldn’t let her see the pain in your eyes as you bowed your head, before she could lock eyes with you again, making her heart sink a little as soon as she realised she wouldn’t be able to lock eyes with you again, if you didn’t lift your head the way you had, before, trying to act as if you were distracted by the next pile of dung you were shovelling up at your feet. “Can we do it whilst we’re mucking up, l-like we are, now?” You appeared taken aback again by her request, forgetting your previous thought as you looked up at her again, forgetting how to breathe for a moment whilst she silently admired your eyes without even realising that she was, trying to tell herself that it was just because it made sense to make eye contact right now, rather than glance down at your lips, or just down at the ground when you were both in the middle of a conversation the way that you were, or had been, now.

You appeared skeptical again, once you’d recomposed yourself, and could finally breathe again, as soon as you remembered how your lungs were supposed to work, ever since you’d been born a few years ago, now.

“I don’t know,” you answered warily, prompting her heart to sink, and eyes to darken a little; it made something ache within her for a reason unbeknownst to her to see that you still didn’t seem to trust her with the shovel, but she guessed she understood after she’d been wielding it the way she had earlier, wanting to either break it or smack someone over the head with it whilst she’d been thinking about her and Shane’s recent argument. It was seeing the hurt on her face - even if it were only there for a moment - that made your heart cave in, as you - without hesitation - took up her shovel, before holding it out to her, and forgetting how to breathe all over again as you waited for her to take it from you. “Here, of - of course we can,” you reassured her gently, a little breathlessly, but you tried to hide that you couldn’t breathe as you tried not to watch her hand as it inched closer to your own, before she accepted the shovel from you, and couldn’t help, but allow the pinky finger of her left hand to brush against the back of your own, prompting your heart to stutter, and you to tense up again as a makeshift spurt of electricity seemed to run down your arm - something you’d never felt before. You wondered if she felt it too, noticing the dazed expression on her face, making your cheeks heat up as you hastily looked away from her again, though you longed to keep your eyes focused on her, and only her, despite your not knowing why you’d even had such a reaction to her skin touching your own the way it had, for a split second.

“Thank you,” she replied, once she’d been able to find her voice again as she smiled timidly down at the ground beneath her, “that was-.. really brave of you, considering.”

You lifted your eyebrows again as you glanced over at her, confused by her praise, but still you couldn’t keep the smile from your face as your eyes glinted a little over at her, prompting her heart to skip a beat again as soon as she felt your eyes upon her, encouraging her more than enough to glance up at you again, her eyes not hesitating to lock with your own as you both faltered in place for a moment, staring over at each other as if nobody else existed anymore, besides you two, right here, right now.

It took her more strength than it ever had before to stay stood where she was, seeing herself in another universe inching closer to you, whilst she lifted her right hand up to your left cheek, only making her heart begin to pound a little as you warily glanced over at her, your heart skipping a beat, almost as if you were picturing the same thing as she was, hardly breathing, just like she was, stood before you, before her eyes darkened, and she awkwardly cleared her throat again to break herself from her previous daze, as well as you from your own as you silently cursed yourself, before digging up at the muck again to try and clear your head somehow, only to fail miserably as soon as you felt her hand upon your shoulder.

“Reg-” You spluttered out, before you even knew her name was slipping from your lips, but before you could continue, she pressed on, determined to show you that she meant everything she told you, whilst she knew you silently doubted some things about yourself, though you’d not even told her her about what had happened to you, when you were younger, and felt more hopeless than you ever had before.

“I meant it,” she cooed, gently squeezing your shoulder as you timidly glanced up at her, wishing you could breathe normally again, whilst at the same time you were terrified of losing the way she made you feel, whenever she was with you the way she was, now, “you’re the bravest girl I know.”

You tried not to shudder, your eyes threatening to fill with tears as a lump began to form within your throat, only making it harder for you to not break down in front of her as you forced a shaky smile in her direction, before bowing your head again as soon as small tears began to form within your eyes.

“Bravest, huh?” You mused, and she nodded hastily, not hesitating at all because she meant every word, and knew she always would. Being hit by a bus the way she had last year had made her feel different; more grateful, of everything, as well as everyone, around her - for a split second, whilst she was unconscious, she swore her life had flashed before her eyes, and it made her feel guilty for almost everything she’d ever done - well, everything, until now.

“You - mean a heck of a lot to me,” she expressed, and you would appear taken aback again, your heart skipping a beat, before you glanced up at her again, and wondered why your heart felt as if it were being squeezed even though at the same time it felt as if it were currently soaring with every word she shared with you, and you’d reacted in similar ways ever since you’d first met her, and began to feel alive whenever she was with you the way that she was, now, “you always have, e-ever since I-.. y’know, got to actually know you, and talk to you, and that’ll never change, I promise - you know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassured her, your voice briefly trembling, prompting her heart to squeeze alongside your own as she frowned, and carefully eased you into a hug whilst you melted into her embrace, and wouldn’t hesitate to return it as you buried your face into her left shoulder, feeling safer than you ever had before as you subconsciously drowned within her sweet scent in the best way possible.

“Good,” she returned gently, “I’m glad.” You both fell quiet for a moment as you tried to recompose yourselves, before she held you at arms length blissfully, her eyes glinting alongside your own. “So,” she chimed, and you couldn’t help, but giggle softly whilst you carefully brushed away any remaining tears, “should we continue mucking, or-?”

You smiled warmly at her, before nodding, and taking up your shovel again, as if she hadn’t had you almost breaking down completely within her arms a brief moment ago.

“I’d love to,” you replied, brighter than she’d ever heard you before, prompting her heart to jump alongside your own as she smiled sheepishly back at you, evidently glad to see that you were happy again, now that she’d admitted to you that you were more than what you thought you were to her, before, “as long as you’re still up to talking about whatever you wanna talk about, as we go?”

She tensed up again, remembering Shane, and the fight he and her had had, earlier today, and for a moment you regretted more than anything bringing up the situation, until she smiled reassuringly over at you again, and nodded, before taking your free hand within her own to soothe you even more, indirectly making your heart pound faster than it ever had before as you tried not to glance down at her fingers intertwined with your own, whilst also silently praying that she couldn’t hear what was currently going on within your chest.

“Always,” she answered, and you would express relief, your expression softening, before you glanced down at the ground again, your cheeks heating up even more than they ever had before, “but before that - where should we start?”

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it, and are looking forward to the dropping of the full version! ❤️

[maveras-posts]

Funky ART HC’S

Some ✨FUNKY✨ Art Headcanons:

This fucker has IBS I mean he shat his brains out (I feel his pain ngl🤡)

It’s a trade off to being ✨ImmOrTal���

(Shi at least he has SOMETHING, I got NOTHING)

Art can also play the Kazoo at the professional level

You’ll be running from him and he’s doing the Gangnam style whilst ✨KaZoo✨ is in his mouth 😭

Also Penny, Jack and Art are besties the iconic trio we didn’t know we needed frfr

They try to force him to take a bath😭

He’s like a hissing cat

Art actually is good at keeping generally good hygiene but it has to be on his ✨OwN TeRmS✨

Also is a major pothead I don’t make the rules

Also he smells like nickels (it just seems fitting)

Honestly Satan has a hold on him and it only got worse after Art witnessed what he was contributing to

I feel like after the events of All Hallows Eve he descended more into madness

He has a short attention span you gotta *jingle jingle*

It’s all one big comedy to him, it’s all organized chaos🤪

Hes also obsessed with any and all popcorn he has tried every flavor at least once

Art also has a Dr Pepper ✨PrObLem✨

Like fr he will drop kick a child for one, he’s a fiend

Art also hopes somebody would try to mug him, he wants any chance to uno reverse with his ✨Mouse Ka Tool✨

SO…. Art the clown has taken this page by storm, I have to keep giving the ppl what they want. I never realized how many fans there are of Terrifier. I shall continue to write more slasher content as the spooky season progresses. Also I’m gonna go watch Terrifier 3 to get more ✨ConTent✨ also might show my Art cosplay here someday…anyways… TOODLES

Mavera (V)

[illarian-rambling]

Hey people on the internet! I'm looking to write an aromantic allosexual character for the first time, and I'm wondering if any aroallo folks out there had some pointers?

(For context, this character doesn't realize she's aro. She's in a rocky relationship with another woman, mostly because she believes "relationship" is a box she needs to check for a successful life, along with "career" and "house.")

If there's any details that might be good to include, or tropes I should avoid, I'd love to hear your opinions :)

[morally-earl-gray]

would anyone be interested in this aspec book couple concept?

so the romance aspect of it is subplot. its mostly adventure with focus on the found family character dynamic and the dynamics between siblings.

there is a romantic subplot though, and I have a concept in mind but I don't know if its good or not:

a hopelessly romantic bisexual boy. he's never managed to make a relationship work, hes has had a few short ones although they never last longer than one or two days. he's the second born prince, but isn't betrothed (although his older brother is). his whole life, he just wanted someone to spend his life with (he wishes he were in an arranged marriage, because his parents wont let him choose a partner) he meets a girl and falls head over heels for her. eventually, they start to become closer and he gets a feeling that shes the one. (although he tries to talk himself out of it because he's fallen in love before and it never ended well) and eventually, he says that he loves her and she says that she loves him. but she doesn't seem really into it when they kiss, despite the fact that shes in love with him. eventually she tells him that she cant love him in the way he wants her too, or she cant love him in the same way that he loves her (shes asexual) but that she does love him. she expects him to reject her, but he tells her that he understands. he doesn't need her to love him that way, and he doesn't want to make her uncomfortable. he fell in love with every part of who she is, and he can love her like that. because all his life, he's just wanted someone. not inherently romantic or sexual, though. and once he finds her, he's happy.

so yeah, this is my plot idea. just wondering, would anyone be interested in reading something like this, or should I just make them a alloallo-straight couple?

ok this was a little longer than I was expecting it to be.... kinda turned into a synopsis for my own sake sorry chat

[reliablegal]

Do not put two neurodivergent transfems who are writing in the same room. We’ll will come up with the most heinous tragic comedy this side of the planet.

Yes my story has some brand new ideas and a million more are on the way. Are they any good?

What are you a cop?

[banyangulf-if]

YOUR HONOR THEY WERE IN LOVE ONCE!!!

(excerpts from banyan gulf short story "under the moon")

[icaruswithwingsofwater]

Enjoy this frazzled meme I made today while procrastinating 😵‍💫😅

Whether you’re writing drunk or high, remember to edit sober, my friends ✌🏻😌✨

[ruthwritesalot]

What's My Age Again?

Overview

Previous chapter

Next chapter

PART 2: Chapter 19

I decided to make the story have parts, and this is the beginning of Part 2, which means there's a time skip. I tried to make this chapter introduce Jamie again as a character, because he's obviously changed a lot in the time we missed. I'd love to hear any thoughts and constructive criticism!

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Jamie

My breath fogged the mirror as I leaned close to it, concentrating. I’d gotten a lot better at eyeliner over the years. In the beginning, it had taken me twenty minutes to manage an awkward, jagged line but now, it was flawless in less than two minutes.

I still ended up running late, like I always did. I grabbed my backpack and ran past Alex, deciding to skip breakfast. “Bye!” I yelled.

He called something back, but I was already awkwardly walking to the elevator with my boots half put on. I quickly tied my laces as I watched the floors get lower and lower, then began trudging through the snow, barely making it to the bus stop in time.

“Nice makeup,” Oliver snickered as I walked past him.

“Fuck you, too,” I threw back, softly enough so Mrs. Broderick wouldn’t hear.

Still, I threw myself onto a seat at the very back of the bus and pulled up my hood. The confidence boost I’d gotten this morning was already beginning to wear off, leaving room for anxiety. I put on my headphones and selected Ancient Dreams in a Modern World to drown out my thoughts with Marina’s voice. It worked to an extent, but I still caught myself thinking about running to the bathroom and smearing off the makeup the first chance I got. What had I been thinking? Now that I was almost an adult, I was incapable of being bullied?

I stared intently at the ground as I got off the bus, so I only noticed Omar once he was standing right in front of me. I jumped a little, then threw my arms around him. “Happy birthday!” I squealed loudly enough to make a few people turn their heads.

He happily let me ambush him. “You, too!”

“Mine’s not ‘till tomorrow,” I reminded him, like I did every year. Omar, unlike me, loved being the center of attention. I didn’t see why he had to try and share his spotlight with me before it was my turn.

“Yeah, but we’re celebrating today,” he argued. “You look great, by the way.” I’d pulled away from him, so he could admire my makeup.

“Yeah, I got a stupid burst of confidence this morning,” I explained. “I don’t know where it came from.”

He tilted his head. “You want my makeup wipes?”

I did, but I’d also promised myself I wouldn’t backtrack this morning. And what if I ran into Oliver again? He’d know he won. “No, it’s fine.”

The bell rang, so we turned around and started heading inside. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind.”

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

I should have wiped the makeup off. I could feel people watching me as I moved through the halls, desperate for the day to be over. I could have cried I was so relieved when the final bell rang. I almost ran, my mind blank except for getting to the bus, when I suddenly collided with someone in a full-body slam.

“Hey, watch where you’re going, you fucking faggot.” It was Oliver. He didn’t seem particularly angry, he just snickered, which somehow made it all worse.

I saw red. Later, I’d realize that my fight or flight response had apparently changed to fight at some point in the last four years. I didn’t have control over my body. It was as if the fist that connected with Oliver’s jaw was someone else’s, and I was only watching it happen. He stumbled back a few steps, holding his chin. I couldn’t tell if he was in pain or just in shock. It didn’t matter though, because everyone around had seen what happened, including three teachers.

I instinctively looked around for Omar, but he was nowhere to be found. I heard someone say “Hey!” and felt myself being physically pulled away from Oliver, which seemed unnecessary. He’d already put some steps between us, and I’d made no move to fill them. “Both of you to the principal’s office. Now.”

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

Oliver’s parents didn’t seem like very nice people. His dad was currently towering over me, berating me for daring to lay hands on his son. The confident Jamie from this morning would have told him that if he was gonna raise such a homophobic asshole, he had to be prepared for the consequences, but of course all current Jamie did was shrink back into the stiff chair. I watched as Oliver smirked at me over his dad’s shoulder, ignoring his mom who was fawning over him as if he’d just been traumatized for life. He wasn’t even traumatized physically. There was only a slight bruise. To their side, Principal McLean was sitting at her desk, holding her head in her hands, giving off the energy of someone who just wanted to go home.

The door opened, and the sound of Alex’s quick steps cut through the room. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he said to Oliver’s dad, shoving him to the side before kneeling in front of my chair. “Are you okay? What happened?”

Someone sucked in a sharp breath. “Is he okay?” Oliver’s mom said incredulously. “He attacked my son!”

It was as if I’d suddenly and violently fallen back into my body, the weight of the situation punching me in the chest and knocking the wind out of me. Tears welled up in my eyes and quickly started streaming down my face. Alex immediately got up and wrapped his arms around me.

“I’m sorry,” I sobbed. Did he understand it was meant for him and not Oliver? I’d ruined everything. I was gonna be kicked out of school months before graduation, and Alex was gonna have to pick up the pieces like he always did. What had he been doing when Principal McLean called him? Had it been important?

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he calmed me. I was painfully aware of the other four people in the room staring at us, but I felt physically unable to pull myself together.

Eventually, my sobbing lessened somewhat, and McLean cleared her throat. “Jamie, you still haven’t told us your side of the story.”

I swallowed and lifted my chin to look him straight in the eyes. “Oliver called me a faggot, so I punched him.”

She raised her eyebrows slightly, then looked to Oliver. My heart thumped as I tightened my grip on Alex’s arm. Like I’d been hoping, he seemed to pick up on the name Oliver. He gave me a questioning look, which I answered with a slight nod, at which point he turned back to face the room. “Ma’am, this isn’t the first time this has happened,” Alex announced in his grown-up voice that left little room for argument. “This kid has been bullying Jamie for years, which has gone largely unnoticed by the teachers and administration. He was bound to break at some point. If anything, the school should feel responsible for letting the situation escalate to this degree.”

Okay, I hadn’t been expecting him to go that hard. He seemed to be fuming behind the tight-lipped stare he was directing at Ms. McLean, who seemed to be taken aback.

Oliver’s dad actually scoffed. “Oh, give me a break. Everything’s bullying these days. Hurt feelings don’t give him the right to go around punching people.”

Alex fixed his piercing gaze on him. I’d never been more glad not to be on the other side of it. “What would you call calling people slurs for years?”

Oliver’s dad stared at Alex for a few moments, then apparently decided to try a different approach. “I’m sorry, who even are you? You’re not his dad, that’s for sure. You’re like, twenty.”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but I’m his legal guardian,” Alex informed the room. “As I was saying, Principal McLean, can I expect the school to take any measures against the rampant homophobia among students?” His hand was still on my shoulder, making me relax. I slowly started to sink back into the chair and let myself zone out as they argued. Eventually, it was decided that we’d be moved to different classes, nothing else. I couldn’t believe it, and neither could Oliver’s family. They stuttered in protest, but McLean had had enough and kicked us all out of her office. Alex quickly ushered me past them and to the parking lot.

“Jamie,” he said once we were in the car.

“Yeah,” I said to show him I was listening, not moving my gaze from the window.

“I’m not mad at you,” he assured me. “I meant it when I said you did nothing wrong. But you need to be careful. The world isn’t fair, and you might not get off as easily next time.”

Nothing about this had felt easy. “I know,” I replied, forcing back tears.

He sighed and reached over to stroke my hair. “Don’t let this ruin your weekend, okay? Let’s just forget about it.”

I nodded. It seemed to be enough. He didn’t mention it again.

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

The sound of Omar’s excited footsteps could be heard the second Aaliyah rang the doorbell. He wrenched open the door with a grin.

“Happy birthday!” Aaliyah said, giving him a hug.

“Come in, come in!” he said, moving to the side.

We all walked in, Alex carrying the cake and me carrying my present for him. It wasn’t heavy, but it was lumpy and impractical for both holding and wrapping. I’d thought I’d done an okay job at the latter, though. The creases were almost only in the places I’d wanted them to be.

“You can put that in the kitchen,” Omar directed Alex once we’d taken our shoes off.

“Thanks,” he said, following the sound of voices.

I was about to head after him when Omar stopped me. “Are you okay?”

I tried to look believably confused. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t know, you’re kind of quiet.”

I glanced in the direction of the kitchen, trying to gauge if they could hear us.

Omar followed my gaze, then said more loudly, “Why don’t we bring my present to my room?”

I gratefully followed him. The second he shut the door behind him, the information burst out of me. “I punched Oliver.”

He spun around, looking understandably shocked. “What? When? Are you in trouble?”

“After school,” I explained. “And everything’s fine, Alex handled it.”

“You’re not even in detention or anything?” he asked in disbelief.

I shook my head. “Nope. You should have seen Alex.” We sat down on the bed and I detailed everything that had happened in Principal McLean’s office.

“I can’t believe you actually punched him,” Omar said. There was a tone of admiration in his voice. I looked up to see him grinning at me.

I couldn’t help it. The corners of my mouth curved into a small smile, too. “I did.” It was something I’d been imagining for years, but never seriously.

“Thank God Alex was there,” Omar said, rocking back and forth. “Just… wow. You just made this the best birthday ever, you know that, right?”

I laughed. “I thought you were gonna tell me how stupid it was,” I admitted.

“I mean, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do,” Omar said. “But it all worked out, so who cares? It’s not like he didn’t deserve it.”

Maybe Omar was right. It didn’t feel fair that I had to feel bad about the one time I’d retaliated after years of bullying. I reached over to hug him, already feeling better. “Do you want to open your present now?”

He took it eagerly, feeling the shape. “Did you knit me something?”

I pursed my lips, my heart pounding as I watched him rip open the wrapping paper. This moment had been playing over and over again in my head since I’d come up with the idea, and I had to focus to make sure my face wouldn’t give away how anxious I was.

He picked up the cardigan I’d gotten to know by heart over the past few months and studied it. “Oh my god, it’s Mabel’s star!” he said, already ecstatic as he pointed at the shooting star on one of the pink patches. I smiled, waiting for the rest to dawn on him. “Wait,” he said as he touched the patch with the question mark, then the llama. “Are they all…?”

I nodded.

“You knitted me a Gravity Falls cardigan?” he said, looking at me in disbelief.

“Yeah,” I confirmed, my heart swelling as he excitedly pulled the sweater he was wearing over his head and put the cardigan on. It was a perfect oversize fit.

“It’s really good,” he said, running his finger along the ribbing.

“I practiced a lot before I started,” I explained.

“I can tell.” He hugged me again. “I’m never taking this off.”

I laughed into his shoulder, but a twinge of sadness stabbed at me as I thought of him wearing it in some college dorm far away from me. At least he’d always have a part of me with him.

He was the one to eventually pull away. “Do you want to open yours, too?”

I gave him a look. He knew how I felt about celebrating early.

“Okay, okay,” he relented. “Let’s just go downstairs.”

We found Omar’s family, Aaliyah and Alex sitting around the coffee table. “There you two are,” Omar’s dad joked. “We were getting close to cutting the cake without you!”

We laughed politely and I squeezed next to Alex on the couch while Omar sat cross-legged on the carpet. It was a nice cake. Pumpkin spice with a layer of frosting on top, and lettering that simply said ‘Happy 18th birthday’. ‘Jamie and Omar’ probably would have been too long. His mom offered me the knife, but I motioned for her to give it to Omar. I couldn’t even enjoy the cake properly as I watched the minutes tick by.

“Can’t wait for it to be your turn?” Alex teased when I pulled out my phone for the fifth time.

“Nope,” I lied, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth that had nothing to do with the cake.

Alex raised his glass for a toast. “To Jamie and Omar. May the two of you achieve everything you want to in life.”

Damn, that was intense. A shiver ran up my spine. I glanced at Omar, relieved to see that he looked uncomfortable, too.

“Speaking of what you want to do in life,” Aaliyah started, making everyone look up, “Jenny asked me if any of my students would be up for teaching the after-school classes for the little kids. You know, the Monday and Thursday ones.”

“Why isn’t Jenny doing them anymore?” Omar asked curiously.

Aaliyah shrugged. “She just said she wanted to cut back her hours. She said to tell you you can do it together if you want, since it’s your first time teaching.”

Omar looked strangely thrilled. “That would be so cool! Imagine us working together.”

I wasn’t so sure. I looked at the pair of them skeptically, then at everyone else since I seemed to be the only one seeing the obvious problem with this suggestion. “We’d be teaching?” I asked Aaliyah pointedly for confirmation.

“Yeah,” Aaliyah said, much too casually for my liking. “I thought you might want a chance to earn some easy cash.”

“How is teaching easy?” I asked, still unconvinced. “Are you sure we’re like, qualified for that?”

Aaliyah and Alex exchanged a look, and I saw Omar’s smile slip. “C’mon, Jamie, it’s just the basics,” he pointed out. “It’s the dance equivalent of teaching a first grader how to add.”

Yeah, but if you fucked that up, it would ruin the first grader for the rest of their life.

There was an awkward silence, then Alex nudged me. “Why don’t you think about it? I think it’s a great idea. Getting your first job is a part of growing up, and wouldn’t you rather do this than work at McDonalds?”

A pit formed in my stomach at the words growing up.

“Yeah, and for the record, I’m definitely qualified to decide that you’re qualified,” Aaliyah chimed in.

I hated how good of a point that was.

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

It felt like hours until Omar and I were finally allowed to leave. Everyone followed us out the door.

“Be home by one at the latest, okay?” Omar’s dad said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Omar waved him off.

His dad narrowed his eyes but let us go. It was the only occasion we were ever gonna have such a late curfew, he knew we were smart enough not to abuse it.

We got to the main road before Omar asked for the wine and I directed him to my backpack. He unscrewed the half-empty bottle, took a few sips, then hid it again. Omar didn’t act like Dad when he got tipsy. He laughed a lot, like now when he thought the way the radio host pronounced Eminem was hilarious for some reason.

“He made it sound like M&Ms,” he couldn’t stop giggling. “You know, like skittles?”

It all went to show that Dad had been the problem, not the alcohol. I still wouldn’t trust myself with the stuff though, which Omar didn’t complain about, seeing as it meant he always had a driver.

“You know, if we drove to Canada, this would be legal,” Omar carried on. “Want to drive to Canada?”

I smiled at the way he was acting. “I think that might make us miss our curfew. I can offer you McDonald’s or a lake.”

“Lake,” Omar said. “I don’t have money for McDonald’s.”

I drove through the park and stopped close by the lakeside, leaving some distance between us and the few other cars that were parked. In the summer, we’d lay down a picnic blanket, but now we were glad to have the warmth of the car as we stared at the icy sheets.

“Do you want your present now?” Omar asked.

I took the large rectangular package from him gingerly, suspecting it to be art of some kind. He’d given me some of his printed-out work before, but never anything this big. My favorite was the comic-style Taylor Swift currently hanging over my dresser. It was too thick to be just a drawing, and it didn’t feel like anything framed, either. As I carefully pulled off the tape and undid his neat folds, I caught a glimpse of a canvas.

“Did you paint something?” I asked, intrigued. I’d barely seen him work non-digitally, except maybe sketches.

He just smiled, obviously proud of himself as I uncovered the painting completely. I stared at it in shock.

“Do you like it?” Omar asked, unnerved by my non-reaction.

“I…” I couldn’t find the words. I felt bad, but all I could do was look at it with my mouth hanging slightly open.

It was a portrait of me, except it wasn’t me. It had all of my features down to the scar on my lip and the freckle on my left cheek, but that was where the similarities ended. The person in the portrait looked radiant, almost like an angel. His face shone in a purple light, complemented by the lilacs surrounding him. I had to look closely to see where his curly hair ended and the stems began, giving it the effect that he was one with the flowers. Was this how he saw me?

“Oh my God,” I said, and realized I was crying. What was that, the third time today? “Wow.”

Omar chuckled, interlocking our fingers. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Uhhuh,” I mumbled, not able to tear my eyes away. There were so many details. Every petal was different. I was going to have to hang it somewhere I could easily spend hours analyzing it. “Thank you, really. I love it more than anything.”

He squeezed my hand. “I’m glad. I spent forever deciding how to start. I have almost half a sketchbook filled with ideas.”

The weight of what the painting meant was slowly reaching me. How many hours had he spent painstakingly making sure every brushstroke was perfect, just so he could give me this testament to how much he cared for me?

“I love you,” I told him. Saying it wasn’t awkward anymore. The first few times, we’d both hastily added ‘platonically’ or ‘as a friend’, but that soon stopped being necessary. We both knew what we meant to each other, and we didn’t hesitate to say it as casually as saying goodbye. I was certain no matter what happened, he’d always be my best friend in the entire world. But there were some moments like these where it had to be said with intention.

“I love you, too,” he replied easily, then glanced at his phone.

“Well?” I asked.

“10:30,” he said. “Only an hour and a half to go!” He took another sip of the wine for good measure.

“Great,” I grimaced.

He studied me, then set the bottle down. “Why aren’t you happy?”

Lying to him was about as useful as lying to Alex. “I don’t think I’m ready to be an adult,” I admitted.

Omar rolled his eyes. “Turning eighteen doesn’t make you an adult.”

“Maybe not, but graduating does,” I protested, blinking back tears again. “Going to college, getting a job? I’m not ready to move out. I feel like I just got here.”

Omar chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “Aren’t you excited, though? I can’t wait to not have my parents breathing down my neck 24/7.”

“Yeah, but you’re a lot braver than me,” I dismissed. “I cried today because I wore eyeliner.”

Omar raised an eyebrow. “You also punched Oliver.”

“That doesn’t count. I wasn’t thinking.”

Omar leaned back in his seat and stared out at the lake. He was silent for so long, I was starting to be concerned that the booze was hitting him a little too hard when he said “I’m not particularly brave, either. I can’t even tell my parents I got a full scholarship to art school.”

I gaped at him. “What? In Chicago?”

He wiped away tears. “I don’t want to be a fucking doctor or lawyer or whatever.”

Some things clicked into place. “Is this what’s been bothering you lately?”

His silence was answer enough.

“I don’t think you should rule it out just yet,” I tried to encourage him. “Maybe they won’t react as horribly as you think.”

Neither of us believed what I was saying.

“You got a full-ride scholarship,” I protested. “That has to count for something.”

Silence.

“How’d you get it, anyway?” I pushed. “I didn’t even know you applied.”

“There was this competition, and I won,” he explained. “There’s an award ceremony next month, but I’m not gonna go.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Okay, you’re going.”

He gave me a look that said not to push it, which I risked ignoring. “Look, if your parents won’t go, I’m going with you. Promise me you’ll at least think about it.”

He rolled his eyes again, which were still teary. “Okay,” he sniffled, then added, “Does it bother you that we’re both crying on our birthdays?”

I laughed. “A little.”

“Good, ‘cause it bothers me, too.”

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