#lgbtq+ story

[thegood-thebad-andtheundead]

The Good, the Bad, and the Undead masterpost

Part one

Part two

[kerryanniswriting]

Been posting on Wattpad now like a week (maybe? I’m not good at remembering stuff) and I just cannot find readers. So if anyone wants to read a cute young adult about two girls who go from friends to lovers please wander my way please and thanks so much! I update every day :)

But also there are TWs on the description page so make sure you check them out before reading!

Wattpad username: kerryanniswriting

[dantes-motel]

Welcome to Dante's Motel. Dante's Motel is a webcomic created by me Katie Chock and KT Chock's Artwork.

Jessie has been caught cheating on their wife, the guilt is so great that Jessie is transported to a hell of their creation. Jessie is given a chance to overcome their mistakes and grow from this experience. But they will face their demons and actual demons along the way. 

Join Jessie in their trail of redemption, with new post coming every 2-3 weeks.

Please enjoy Dante's Motel!

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[who-canceled-roger-rabbit]

Some spins on the "mostly male team with a token woman" trope:

The woman is trans and stayed in her old circle of bros even after transition

The woman is the only one in her circle of "girls" who didn't turn out to be a trans man

[talesofphantombandits]

The UnHoly Trinity ~ Children of the Marked.

Hero ~ Prologue.

Summary:

Ziggy’s eyes hadn’t left the grand clock in the ballroom since she arrived three hours ago.

Every tick ran through her like a violent vibration, her dress was starting to feel far too heavy on her slim frame.

She wore a skirt that was made of a sheer, pale blue fabric that was bulked out by many underskirts, gold accents like gold leaf trailed down the front of the skirt. The corset was the same but it was off the shoulder with puffy sleeves made of the same sheer fabric the skirt was, Ziggy let her long, wavy ginger hair flow down her shoulders and back. A golden swirled mask adorned her face, the mask faded into a matte black as it reached over her delicate nose, a single golden teardrop dangled on her left cheek.

Hero was never this late to their own El Sacrificio ball, they thrived on it and wanted to spend as much time drinking and dancing as they could. Not to mention how much they thrived on teasing Ziggy.

Ziggy and Hero had a love/ hate relationship, but no matter how they felt about each other, for two hundred years Hero had always saved the first dance of El Sacrificio for Ziggy, it was an unspoken rule that nobody questioned, and nobody dared to take the first dance away from Ziggy.

The first dance of the ball was a special honor, one that kicked off a night of sacrifices, weather that be secrets or lives given up to keep the realm healthy and thriving. Some sacrifices where volunteered, some not so much. Somewhere small and caused no harm but some would end lives, which is just what the devil wanted.

Hero’s sacrifice was always their pride, which to anyone else didn’t seem that big of a deal, but for Ziggy it was. Putting aside what hate she felt for Hero, to dance with them for one night.

Hero relished in it every year, Hero knew Ziggy was in love with them, Hero also knew deep down they were in love with Ziggy, but they weren’t prepared to give up their biggest sacrifice yet.

For Hero was extremely powerful and now they had become ruler of the realm, Hero had more responsibilities than ever, they also knew that Ziggy would never be safe with them. They knew full well that Ziggy could look after herself, but also in human terms Ziggy have no doubt been classed a villager, a peasant.

Ziggy wasn’t important enough to be married to the ruler of the realm, but if Hero had it their way? They would have married Ziggy two hundred years ago.

Ziggy prepared diligently for the ball every year, hoping that, maybe this year will be different. Hero would too swallow her pride and tell Ziggy how they really felt about her.

Ziggy was a maid in the palace but only every now and again she would glance over to where Hero would be sat, only for Hero to already be looking at her longingly. Their was something unspoken between them both, something that over the years had turned into frustration, that then turned into hate. Hero chose Ziggy to have the first dance every year so that for just one night, one dance they could be together how they truly wanted to be, but for Ziggy it wasn’t enough anymore, she wanted more and she didn’t know how much longer she could continue this charade.

Twelve o’clock sharp. That’s always when Hero made their entrance. But twelve had struck all it’s chimes what felt like a lifetime ago, and still Hero wasn’t to be seen. Ziggy never worried about Hero, never needed to before, for her harsh reality was that they weren’t hers to worry about and they had the power to rule over the realm, they didn’t need someone as lowly as Ziggy worrying over them.

But tonight the air felt different and the butterflies in Ziggy’s stomach started to feel like they were dying and turning into ash and sludge, her mouth became dry as a faint white mist started to flow firstly from under the entrance door, and then seemingly from every window. Ziggy looked around curiously, baffled when she noticed that not a single window was open, and the balcony doors at the back of the hall, were open but the mist didn’t seem to want to cross the threshold and travel up into the night air.

Everyone stood around the magnificent ballroom, they had already been trying their hardest not to not look concerned at Hero’s blatant absence, but now they definitely couldn’t hide their concern about where the mist came from. Ziggy felt a certain breath of relief leave her lungs when she saw she wasn’t the only one concerned. She was so distracted observing everyone else that she hadn’t felt a presence sneak up next to her, that is until they started to speak.

“Shouldn’t you be dancing by now?” Ziggy didn’t even have to look, she’d know that voice anywhere. “And what is with all the mist? Is this some new party trick that Hero has up their sleeve?”

“Always a pleasure Robin.” A tutting noise ringed through Ziggy’s left ear, she smirked as she looked to see the beautiful male beside her. “And how would I know? I’m just a lowly servant remember, I don’t have the rulers ear.”

“What have I told you time and time again miss Ziggy?” Robin was leaned up against the table behind them both, long lean legs clad in tight suit pants crossed over one another and a champagne flute held in his delicate fingers. “To call you Keys, I know. I just like teasing you.” The brilliant smile that crossed Keys face almost made Ziggy forget why she was sad. Almost.

“You know how much you mean to Hero, even if they don’t say it.”

Just as she was about to rip that flute from his hands, debating either to drink it whole or smash it over his head, the band started up. Ziggy flinched from where she stood, there at the top of the grand stairs stood Hero. They looked as good as ever, and with the mist flowing up around them, they looked godly. but Ziggy’s eyes were suddenly drawn to the beautiful woman stood next to the ruler. There, on Hero’s arm where Ziggy should have been stood another woman, her face, just like everyone elses was enclosed by a mask. Ziggy wanted to rip it off the woman’s face, she must have moved a step forward because Keys now stood directly behind her, grabbing her arm to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid.

This had to be some sick joke, Looking around she catch Key’s expression, it was as cold as stone.

Ziggy had been lucky enough to never see this side of Keys before, but she’d heard about it and she would be lying if she said it didn’t scare her. This is how Ziggy knew that Hero had screwed up somehow, she was pissed that she wasn’t on Hero’s arm, where she belonged. But Keys was pissed for another reason. This was bad.

She turned to face the strange scene again and took another step forward, Keys still held her elbow, moving with her, he was now right behind her. So close that she could feel his breath move the hairs that dangled beside her cheek, she ignored the way it tickled as the couple started to descend the marble steps hand in hand, the mist swayed with them with every step they took.

Ziggy had never felt as much rage as she did in this moment, she could feel Keys hand on her elbow get tighter. Not enough that he was hurting her but enough that she knew, with each step they took, Keys got madder and madder.

“Who is she?” She didn’t look over her shoulder to Keys this time, her eyes were fixed on the couple in front of her. They had reached the middle of the dance floor, Hero swung the woman around to get into position to start their dance.

Everyone in the ballroom tried to hide their gasps, but some weren’t so lucky. Ziggy could feel their stares on her, waiting to gauge her reaction. But she felt nothing, she felt numb.

“You don’t want to know.” And just like that, Keys warmth left her.

As it did a new emotion took over her.

Embarrassment.

[vietlad]

Jacob Buckenmyer in Steam Room Stories, 2019 dir. J.C. Calciano

[sparklemaia]

yes I'm now on the other side of top surgery and I'm allowed to lift things again 💪 You might have already seen this one on my substack -- did u know you can subscribe to my substack for early access to comics like this?! Sent directly to your email inbox??? FOR FREE????? (there is also an optional paid tier for exclusive bonus content for five bucks a month but like 80% of my posts will be free and publicly available) ty ily♥

[tooth-with-eyes]

[descendant-of-truth]

Shipping is fun and all but I swear every single time someone makes a comment, whether as a joke or in a legitimate analysis, about there being "no other explanation" for a pair's interactions, I lose just a bit more of my sanity

Like, no, you guys don't get it. Romance is not about the Amount of devotion, it's about the COLOR. the FLAVOR of it all. a character can be just as devoted to their platonic friend as they are to their romantic partner, and they don't love either of them more, just differently.

But because the majority of people still have it stuck in their minds that romance exists on the highest tier of love, I'm stuck seeing endless takes that boil down to "these two care about each other too much for it to NOT be romantic" as if that's the core determining factor to how literally any of this works

In conclusion: stop telling me that I don't understand the story if I don't interpret the leads as romantic, I am TIRED

[newblvotg]

[thegood-thebad-andtheundead]

A figure watched him from a dark corner on the far side of the saloon. Deep red eyes fixed upon the hunter’s blonde hair before tracing the curves of his mouth, his jaw, and down the slope of his neck. The elf had certainly captured everyone’s attention, and it was no different for the dark haired man. He hadn't found the time to make a pass at anyone in a while, and despite the grumbling and hushed slurs around them, he was painfully tempted- and had drank enough whiskey by now to brave it.

“Worth a shot, Henry old boy.”

He stood, taking a long last drag of his cigarette, and eased his way up to the bar, a cocky sway in his gait. This was bound to be dangerous, but Henry Morgan had always liked to play with fire.

“If I’ve learned anything in this part of the world,” he crooned, “it’s that a man looking that serious at a bar has quite a story to tell.”

The blonde looked up.

“And he shouldn’t be drinking alone.” A smile spread across Henry’s face, devilish in the way it made the muscles of his jaw catch the light, the way his mustache bristled in its movement.

The hunter’s blue eyes studied Henry. Vampire. He blinked slowly. “'m done drinkin’,” he said, words slurred. “s’gonna turn in.” His eyes drifted down to the mustache and then back up.

“What a shame!” Henry pulled out a stool anyway, making himself comfortable and leaning an elbow onto the bar. “You see, there’s nothing really to do in this bore of a town. Nothing but drink some particularly good whiskey…” he leaned closer, “with a particularly gorgeous man.”

The blue eyes narrowed, the expression on the blonde's face shifting to suspicion. “Whadya want?” His fingers curled around the glass in front of him- he'd been on the receiving end of unwanted attention before, and he'd smashed a glass into more than one face.

“To buy you a drink, of course,” Henry mused as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. The dark eyes never left the hunter’s face, swirling with excitement, red tones glinting in the light. Even drunk this man was sharp. Challenging. It tickled Henry’s senses. Oh, he was well worth the risk. “Come on. Just one drink?”

The blonde sighed and looked down at his almost empty glass. He quickly gulped the rest of his drink down, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and gave in. “Fine. One drink.” He extended his hand in greeting. “Qynn Halnan.”

“Excellent,” Henry took his hand with a curt shake, “Henry Morgan.” His smile widened, carelessly showing two long fangs. “Barkeep!”

The orc raised an eyebrow. He had grown fed up with Henry’s cheekiness the last few days he had been at the saloon, but the man paid well.

“I think he likes me,” Henry purred. “Ah, yes, the uhhh… the 16 year there, my good sir, thank you.”

The barkeep set a tall deep brown bottle and two glasses on the wood with a loud clunk, giving a gruff grunt and rolling his eyes as Henry winked playfully. “Or maybe not? Here we are.”

“He don't like you,” Qynn stated flatly, eyeing the bottle. “An’ you said one drink. That's a whole fuckin’ bottle.”

“It is whisky…” Henry pulled the cork and began to pour, “it is in a singular vessel… and therefore, technically, a glass.”

He set a glass in front of Qynn with a happy, “Cheers,” but before taking a drink of his own, he pulled a small ornate flask from a pocket. It was glass with delicate swirling metal vines encasing it and something dark sloshing inside. Henry poured a drizzle, thick and syrupy, into his drink and gave it a swirl, watching as the amber took a reddened tone.

“Wha’s that?” Qynn questioned, his glass already near his mouth. He was playing dumb, on the off chance the vampire didn't already know he was a hunter.

“My medicine. Have to take it some way or another.” Henry answered, taking a long drink.

“Helluva mixer,” Qynn muttered before draining his glass. He set it down sharply and clapped Henry on the shoulder. “Well, ‘s been a pleasure.” Rising from the stool he immediately slapped a hand down on the bar to steady himself as he swayed on his feet.

Henry jumped up, clasping Qynn’s shoulder firmly. “Slow down,” he breathed, “we’ve still got a glass to finish.”

Line art and last image by @lcmccomics

Colors by @wildingfoxart (with the exception of the last image)

[k-eke]

They are back 🏳️‍🌈

I could not focus on their story for some times but now I want to do more so I wiill post more about them and build a story as well!

This will be an ongoing story, will post episods as gifs, will see how it goes :)

[voxtablr]

The Day I came out to my Mom

So like, there's this one kid in my neighborhood who once had the audacity to beat me up for no reason, and afterwards, everybody was asking if I was okay, and the kid's brother asked, "Are you straight?", and I told my mom, and she was like, "Well, are you?", and I said, "no.", and since then, she's been with me along the way, and even bought me a pin with the Pansexual flag!

[parlapina]

I love middle age gays

[andresmounts2]

Normalize letting trans kids live.

Every trans child on this planet deserves to be safe & supported.