#slight lgbt relationship

[someonetooksendnoodles]

i had a much larger thought dump drafted, but as we approach pride month this year, this is your friendly reminder to not forget about small town queers, queers in deep red conservative areas, queers actively fighting legislation against our existence, and all of the queers who continue to exist and create spaces for us by simply existing.

our options for living in a safe community shouldn’t be limited to major cities.

sincerely,

a queer from a deep red area of the US

[narbevoguel]

I've always wondered why Aroace peeps feel excluded, when there's lots of cool friendships in media out there. But the more I interact with people across communities, I realize why they feel excluded, especially among their own LGBT peers. Two male characters are really good friends? They must be gay and kissing and doing naughty things! Two women spending time together? Must be lesbians! Two or more characters of any gender getting along just fine? Nope, must be all dating!

Like, I understand shipping characters is fun, I myself do it from time to time, but exploring characters' friendships I find much more appealing cause there's a charm to friendships that I believe romantic relationships ain't got. We gotta learn to appreciate the friends we have, for their unconditional platonic love is as strong as any romantic love, if not stronger.

That's why I will propose to myself a slight challenge: Aroaceptember. Sadly, I can't promise I will be able to draw something daily under this theme because I still gotta work to survive, but I'll try my best to, and in the days I can't, I can talk about my favorite friendship dynamics I've seen in media I've partaken in, or share fanfics/fanart of friendships that I've liked.

If you're interested in that, feel free to stick around, and if you wanna do it yourself, please, by all means. We gotta let our aroace folk know that they're also appreciated.

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 4

Co-written with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Javier confronts Santi, but Candy has Santi's back; we get a little insight into Santi's childhood and what makes him this way.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it.

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and had hair. I've decided Candy is just latina bc she's a sex worker in Colombia so this is what I'm doing. Reader also has curly hair and dark skin.

ADDITIONAL WARNING!: I'm adding implied covert incest to the warnings. If you don't know what it is, it's NOT the same as physical/sexual, its where the child has a relationship with a parent that is more like spouses than parent/child. I'll leave more to google. In the context of this fic, Santi's mom parentified Santi, made him the "man of the house", treated him like a husband and relied on him to help pay bills.

Thank you as always to my beloved Fen <3 I couldn't do this without your encouragement.

A short 1.8 words

Support writers! Reblog and comment!

**************

“GARCIA!” Javi chased after the young man, running down the stairs. Santi moved fast with his youth, but Javi’s longer legs gained an advantage, skipping stairs and eventually catching Santi and slamming him against the wall.

“I’m sorry!”

“You’re damn right you are! How did you get her number?”

“Your book!”

“You’re going through my shit, Garcia?”

Candy’s voice rang at the top of the stairs, her robe and wild curls flowing as she transcended down the stairs. “Let him go!” 

Javi backed up, letting go of Santi’s shirt with a shove. “You stay the hell away from her!” He said to Santiago.

“Excuse me?” Candy stood in front of Santi, crossing her arms over her robe to protect her modesty, for whatever that was worth. “He is my client, and if he wants to see me, he can see me! You don’t own me!”

Jaci sighed, pinching at the bridge of his nose with a huff. “That’s not what I meant. He’s a DEA agent-”

“And you aren’t?”

“He’s not going to be careful! Candy, you sleep with dangerous men, men we are after! If he’s not subtle, you both end up dead!”

“And screaming out his name in my stairwell is being subtle?” 

Javi didn’t have a response, chewing on his cheeks and Santi tried to excuse himself. “I’m just, I’m going to go.” But Candy caught his hand. 

“Santi, sweetheart, it’s okay, we can go back upstairs. You paid me, sweetie.”

He was still avoidant. “No, it’s okay, I reserved the time, I-I’ll just go… yeah- fuck,” he shook his head and tried to go.

Santi pulled away again, but Candy held on: tight but gentle. 

Javi tried to nudge him on. “Go on out of here-”

“I’m sorry-” Santi tried to apologize to the floor when the door opened, and an old woman in a black lace vale shuffled in.

Candy dropped Santi’s hand in favor of wrapping her robe better. “Hola, Señora Perez.”

The old woman eyes Santi and Javi, then looks at Candy. “You alright here, mija?”

With a soft smile, Candy assures her. “Si, Señora, gracias. El,” She nodded to Javi with a glare. “él se va.”

Señora Perez nodded, placing a withered hand on Candy’s shoulder and turning her away from the two boys. “Mija, have I ever told you about my grandson?”

Candy held back a laugh. “No, Señora.”

“He’s a nice young man, a church going boy.” She touched the cross around her neck. “If I may offer some advice, I would suggest you find some different company.” She glanced at Santi and Javi who both avoided her eyes, then back to Candy’s expensive, flowing robe. “And perhaps some more clothes.” Señora Perez patted Candy’s shoulder and moved on towards her door.

Candy muttered “Garcias, Senora” and everyone waited in silence until her apartment door was closed before Candy turned to Santi, as soothing as ever. “Would you like to come back upstairs with me?”

Santi seemed to be considering it when Javier butted in. “Garcia, don’t you fucking-”

“Enough! You are not in charge of him!” Candy shouted before grabbing Javi’s arm and pulling him out the front door and closing it behind her. “What are you doing?” She asked, unsure why Javi was acting this way. 

But Javi didn’t know himself. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew she saw other men. Hell, he saw plenty of other women himself. Was it that he saw Candy with another man? Was it that the man was Santi? Or was it what he was claiming, that Santiago couldn’t be careful, that he couldn’t protect her? Yeah that was it. It certainly wasn’t the bubbling jealous at the idea that Santi was fucking her, holding her, that she kissed his plush lips- uh, that he kissed her plush lips. No, Javier Peña was jealous. 

Instead of divulging all this, Javi diverted. “What are you doing with him? He’s just a kid.”

She scoffed at him. “He’s 25, plenty old enough.”

“Yeah, old enough to get sex from bars, or a nice girlfriend not-” Javi stopped, but it was too late.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “A prostitute? You can say it, Javi. I’m aware of my job title.” 

“Candy, baby, that’s not what I meant-”

Candy rolled her eyes, her hand reaching for the door. “Call me whenever, Javi, but you leave that boy alone.”

She opened the door and Javi only got a peak at Santi, connecting eyes before the door shut in Javi’s face as he took a step forward.

*

Santi watched as Javi walked towards the door, and when it shut he was certain Javi would open it… but he didn’t, and eventually the sound of descending footsteps signaled he left.

“Santiago? Can I call you that now?” She asked as she approached him carefully, with that soft smile that always put Santi at ease. Santi kept looking at the door. “I knew that was your name, before. Knew you worked for the DEA, didn’t know you were Javi’s partner.”

Finally, Santi turned toward her. “Can we not talk about him?”

“Sure. Would you like to go back upstairs with me?” Candy extended her hand that Santi took. She smiled wider. “Let’s go, handsome.”

As they ascended the stairs, Santi’s nerves were through the roof. He felt guilt, like he’d been caught. Santi never got caught before, because he’s never done anything wrong. The pressure from such a young age to be good, to do right, to be the man of the house… it carried over. Santi got his first job at 8 with a paper route he held for years until he found a less than legal job at 13 in a kitchen. The job had so many health code violations and safety hazards, Santi’s arms and legs were burned and cut with scars he now passed off as from the military. He had wounds from there too, but that was primarily the scar down his neck from the bullet that almost killed him, and a few in the chest that went straight through. Frankie said the 4th bullet you don’t even really notice anymore. Santi’s fourth bullet he didn’t feel because he thought he was dead.

All his life he’d needed to do right. His older sister, she was the problem child, the one causing mami problems… Santi loved her too. Elena had her own troubles, their father leaving severely affected her and she sought out that healing from men way too old for her. By the time she entered college, she was a full blown feminist and was teaching Santi all she knew. For his sister’s part, Elena was insistent that Santi be a good man. He learned a lot of valuable lessons about consent and how to treat a woman, not that he had much opportunity to use it.

Santi had become the man of the house when their dad left, his mother treating him like a husband some days. She called him her esposito; her little husband. She’d stay up late at night with him on the couch talking, talking to him about how his father did her wrong, her troubles at work or church… Sometimes it made him feel special, but often it just made him feel worried. He felt like all the problems were his to fix. Elena got into college on scholarship. She’d been a part of a women’s group and had worked hard to save up… Every dime Santi made in his youth went to his mom, so when it came time for adulthood, he couldn’t afford the luxury of college. Santi enlisted in the army at 17, sending home chunks of his paycheck to his mom until the day she died.

The pressure to be good, to be right, to never mess up even the slightest… it manifested in anxiety that Santiago pushed down and down and down… it was bubbling up right now, gurgling in his stomach and in the bile at his throat.

Mami would not approve. She was violently against Elena’s premarital sex, and had told him he could not be like her. God forbid she knew he was seeing a prostitute. Did she know? Was she watching him? Did she know of all the meet ups they'd had this month? Elena wouldn’t approve either, she thought prostitution was degrading to women and that men that sought out prostitutes were objectifying them… this act with Candy was desecrating the two opinions he valued most.

But he didn’t want to stop.

“Do you want to have sex, or would you rather just talk?”

Santi turned to her, confused at that statement. “I thought… do you…”

Her smile changed from soft and assuring to bright and joyful. “Talk? Yes Santiago I can do more than suck dick.”

Panic swept through him. He didn’t want her to think of him like that. She was special to him. He wasn’t stupid, he knew they weren’t dating, but he didn’t just value her for her body. “No! Oh god no, Candy I don’t think of you like that, fuck- you’re- I”

“Santiago.” She placed her comforting hands on his shoulder, a hunt of worry in her eyes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m just teasing you. Breathe, can you do that for me? In your nose, out your mouth…”

Santi did as she said, and slowly calmed down. “I’m sorry, I just…” When she cocked an eyebrow in concern again, Santi collected his thoughts better. “I enjoy your company. P-physical or not.”

Her reassuring smile was back. “Well I’m glad. I enjoy yours too.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No I’m not.” She frowned ever-so slightly, but unlike his mother he didn’t automatically feel like the frown was his fault or his problem to fix. “Santiago…” Candy took his hand, leading him to the small loveseat and sitting down. “I have a lot of different kinds of men here. I hope that isn’t shocking to say, but I do.” With a gentle nudge to his shoulder, Santi smiled again. “You’d be surprised how many men just want to talk. It’s a lot of them. Before or after sex, but sometimes that’s all we do. I like talking to them, getting to know them. And Santi?” She kissed his cheek and giggled at the tickle of his mustache. “I like getting to know you.”

So Santi stayed there with Candy curled up and lying against his chest on the love seat, just talking. She calmed him. He liked being with her, just being. He knew it was an act, at least part of it. She was paid to be here… but Santi couldn’t help feeling for her, wanting to be with her… With Candy, Santi felt like he could actually be himself, he could be that version of himself he was with Frankie, Benny, Will, and slowly but surely Javi, even if today set him back. Fuck, what was Javi going to say at work tomorrow? Would he yell at him again, get him fired for soliciting prostitutes or for going through his things, would he request a new partner- Santi’s finger wrapped around one of Candy’s curls, carefully letting the lock slip through his fingers as to not to mess them up… he found himself grounded again. That could wait until tomorrow. Candy mattered now.

*******************

Check out the playlist!!! Lots of fleetwood mac and eagles!

Prescious baby Santi <3

Now tell me...

please tell me why in the comments and reblogs! I love to here your thoughts on who had better chemistry, who would work better, who needs to work on themselves etc bc they both got their issues, Javi is a sad slut and Santi is a sad baby.

Thank you so so much for reading!!!

And I want to add, to all my readers effect by the war, whether you or your family or friends, I'm praying for your safety. I don't know how much that means to you, but it's what I have <3

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings@whatthefishh @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolboo @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleur @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant @nanfafnan @kirsteng42

[candy8448]

Lu lgbt headcanons Because im feeling very gender today:

Legend:

Genderfluid, any pronouns

Bisexual and demiromantic

Used to be in a relationship with Marin

In a relationship currently with Ravio but they haven't decided exactly how far their relationship goes just yet

Never wears trousers, even on a masculine day, just never. Nope. Wears a ton of jewlery

Probably has some magic ring or something with a gem that he can change the colour of to represent what pronouns they want to use

Wild

Also uses any pronouns

Decided to not use a name or label for gender

Before the shrine was probably not given any opportunity to explore any gender identities or sexual orientation, so went as a cis man

In a queer platonic relationship with Flora

Ace

Sky

Bigender, i saw this headcanon once and im stealing it for self projection reasons

She/he pronouns with a slight preference to he

Bisexual, polyamory

He, Zelda and Groose are all in a relationship together (Zelda is mostly straight and Groose hasn't decided yet)

Hyrule

Seen hcs that fairies aren't born with a gender and get to choose theirs

Intersex (though was treated more femininly by most of his sisters and mothers)

Nonbinary and trans male

Uses he/they/fae pronouns

Time

Saw hcs that the kokiri dont really pay attention to gender

Agender

Uses he/him pronouns for simplicity as that was what people used when he first left kokiri forest

Will not mind if someone uses whatever pronouns, will not correct since he doesnt really have a connection to any gender

Pan, again since he doesnt really recognise gender he doesnt have a preference to what he is romantically intrested in but he is married to Malon

Seen hcs that he used to have a crush on Sheik and sure, i like it when its written as a goofy childhood crush thing

Four

Cis male, ik most ppl hc them as the most gnc but i like this

They/them pronouns, they use them as plural pronouns but not many people actually know that

The colours themselves and mostly cis male though as individuals

Not sure their sexual orientation

They are at least 1/4 gay (looking at you, Vio)

Warriors

Trans male

Aroace, did not have a fun experience with that whole Cia thing and has just sworn off any kind of romantic or sexual relationships

Wind

Demiboy

He/they pronouns (is experimenting with the they/them pronouns and mostly prefers the he/him ones)

Straight as far as he is aware for now, might have a slight crush on Tetra but will deny it with his entire being

Twilight

Nonbinary, He/they pronouns

Had/has a big crush on Midna

In situations or aus where they are able to be with Midna, he is dating Midna and Midna is dating Dusk, but Twi and Dusk are not dating

Ive had this post in my drafts and completely forgot about it lol

[cruelsister-moved2]

like we are on our nine billionth positivity post for cis men with beards and masculine trans men and feminine lesbians and bi people in m/f relationships and nb people who are comfortable passing as their agab etc.... do we need more? is straight people not being able to tell you're gay/trans really the biggest issue facing lgbt people right now?

there seems to be this undiminishable reservoir of care and sympathy for the very idea of having ur queerness slighted in any context. meanwhile people who never get the choice whether or not to hide it are routinely dehumanised, othered, and ignored. if the issues facing these groups do get discussed it's almost never with much concern for their feelings. invalidation and erasure may be one of the issues facing lgbt people and it deserves attention too but I really don't think you can claim at this point that it isn't getting its fair share already.

for what it's worth, even your hypothetical most flaming butch lesbian/fem gay man/androgynous nb person etc still meets people who assume they're cishet, who even actively refuse to acknowledge that they're not. the false equivalence between erasure and overt prejudice alleged exclusively by those who largely experience only the former is in fact erasing the reality of people who experience both

[ukrainianfellow]

The story of a Ukrainian gay sniper couple

When Russian aggression began, almost all Ukrainian citizens stood up for their country regardless of age, gender, political beliefs or sexual orientation. There are a lot of LGBT representatives in the AFU. The rainbow flag has spread much wider across Ukraine.

Homophobia was a traditional value among Ukrainians before Russian aggression. However, it is widespread among only a part of the population now. Moreover, it is associated with soviet totalitarianism, and the homophobia-tolerant stratum of the population is actively expanding.

It is noted that the number of LGBT servicemen and homosexual couples in the ranks of the AFU has increased significantly.

Pavel Legoyda, an anti-aircraft gunner in the 112th separate brigade of the AFU, is an open representative of the LGBT community. He does not hide his orientation and has a love partner. Unfortunately, he has not escaped abuse from his comrades. Not everyone in the Ukrainian army shows tolerance to people of non-traditional orientation. Pavel felt it by himself when he was almost stabbed to death by a soldier returning from the front line.

Nevertheless, it is worth noting that in 2023 the LGBT Military group claimed that around 50,000 LGBT people were fighting Russian occupants.

We've checked some journalists, that are in Ukraine, and had a talk with a gay couple and find out what is it like to defend the Motherland and fight together with a loved one.

Interviewer: “Could you tell a little bit about yourself and how did you realize your orientation? “.

“Anderson“: "My call sign is “Anderson”, I am a former sniper of the 81st Separate Airmobile Brigade. Since the beginning of the Russian aggression, I decided to join the ranks of recruits to defend my homeland. At first, I served as a gunner in a motorized infantry platoon. I confess, that even before the service, I had a slight interest in guys. In the army, I made a final decision about my orientation, but I had to hide it from my comrades."

“Heretic”: “Yes, actually he hid it for about six months, maybe a little more. My call sign is "Heretic." I served as a sniper for more than four years. in AFU”

“Anderson”: “Well, I don't deny it – it was hard to hide my identity. It's a very sensitive issue because you have to worry about how your comrades will react on this."

Interviewer: “Yes, indeed, it's a very brave step. Many people still struggles about it. How did you meet each other?”

“Anderson”: “Well, I was quite good at marksmanship and combat actions. Even before the service, I attended individual courses of shooting, and when I had to use my gun in real battle, I immediately realized that not only could I shoot, but kill occupants. The commander noticed my talent and recommended me to snipers. From that on, I became Heretic’s sniper pair.”

“Heretic”: “At first, I thought he was a newbie who had recklessly joined the snipers. That’s why the relationship between us was quite dry and even cold. Of course, over time, the ice began to melt between us. The daily routine and the constant threat to our lives made me realize that I had misjudged him. I thought: “Damn, he's a good guy!.” Training together, escaping artillery fire, resting and living together in the trenches strengthened our bond. One day, I admitted that I was ready to trust my back to my comrade.”

Interviewer: “And how did you realize there something more than simple sympathy or trust?”

“Anderson”: “Well, I don't know exactly when, where or by what circumstances, but one day I suddenly realized that I felt something more than simple sympathy towards “Heretic”. Maybe it was when we wiped out another Russian orcs, maybe it was when we ate in the trenches. I worried that my feelings would be rejected by my comrade, so I didn’t tell him what I felt.”

“Heretic”: "Well, I was in a similar situation. I just realized that was terrified of losing him. And the constant threat to one of us just made feeling worse."

Interviewer: “And how did you decide to confess?”

“Anderson”: “While we were on another combat mission, and stuck under heavy artillery fire. It was so close that there was no chance of survival. Then we revealed our feelings towards each other.”

“Heretic”: “God bless that we had similar feelings!”

“Anderson”: “Unfortunately, we lost our legs and the ability to fight.”

“Heretic”: “At least we survived. We were found by comrades after the bombing was over.”

Interviewer: “Do your comrades know about your relations? What can you say about their reaction?”

“Anderson”: “Yes, they already know about it. After all we’ve been through we decided to reveal our relations to comrades. We talked with brothers after out hospitalization. We didn't care about anyone’s thoughts.”

“Heretic”: “We didn’t even think that our comrades will support our sights. It turned out that we are not the only ones who have such a relationship.”

[heterophobicdyke]

I think the reasons bisexuals hold so tightly to “queer,” not only as a personal identity but an umbrella identity for the entire LGBT, are numerous:

Queer indicates fluidity. It replaces specifics. When it’s used as an umbrella term for anyone same-sex attracted, then bisexuality becomes the default.

As an extension of the previous dot point, it makes bisexuals feel more connected to homosexuals if we can all forget our specific realities and focus on the fact we are all viewed as “queer” by the rest of the world.

Except, statistically, bisexuals end up with the opposite-sex. That’s not an insult, there are more people in that dating pool and it’s objectively harder living as gay-passing. But the problem is that these male/female relationships often include hiding the bisexual’s same-sex attraction to fit into the Straight World. You’re not telling your partner’s mother and father you’re bi. This happy OSA relationship is a heteronormative privilege, not oppression. When they’re dating the same-sex, or leaning more into that community, they often go polar opposite - it can’t just be “I’m bisexual,” it has to be completely hidden, calling themselves lesbian or gay, or they’ll be “the queerest queer you ever saw.” But you’re usually getting called “queer” because you’re mistaken for homosexual - heteropatriarchal society tolerates a mix of SSA and OSA, in fact it’s normalised as a part of being Straight. Look at threesomes. Society seeing you as normal or a slight deviation, rather than a full error, is not disempowering.

Leaning into this “queerest of the queers” identity when taking part in the rainbow community is over-compensation. I get the root of it, but it doesn’t mean I have to have unlimited empathy about it. Because the insecurity/guilt that causes this over-compensatory reaction is due to indulging in straight-passing privilege that homosexuals do not experience for lacking OSA. It’s not our job to feel sorry for people who can’t help indulging in their advantages over us.

[gabessquishytum]

Hoi, just dropping by so tell you that I have a slight obsession with you block and just love everybody's horny enthusiasm here. Very charming, very attractive.

You mentioned in one of your last answers your personal Trans Hob HCs. Would you be amenable to share those treasures with us?

If it isn't already taken, then I'll be 🦈 , it that's alright

Awww thank you so much 🦈 anon! We're so happy to have you here!

I am such a big fan of trans Hob!!! I just think he's so neat!

In terms of his body, I think he probably got his top surgery done sometime between 1389 and 1489. My fave idea is that Destruction did it for him but either way, he got it done. He's had additional surgery on his chest since then to improve how it looks and he's very happy with it in modern times. He can't even remember what it was like before the surgery tbh. I think he's definitely experimented with a lot of different treatments over the years but he's very very happy to be on T and thriving with how his body looks these days.

In the olden days if anyone ever found out that he was trans they were generally fairly accepting. His soldier buddies would occasionally find out but no one really cared. Eleanor knew (even before they were married) and they managed to conceive Robyn with the help of a friend. The worst time was when Hob was living on the streets because he couldn't hide things as well as he used to, and if people found out they treated him even worse than before.

He's always sought out other trans and gnc individuals as friends or lovers. For example Jim from the Hob’s Leviathan story - I like to think that Hob helped them on their journey and they developed a very close and loving relationship as time passed. They understood each other and Jim admired Hob greatly for everything he's achieved.

In modern times Hob is a massive trans rights activist in the academic community. People never guess that he's trans so he often has people assume that he's mtf when he comes out to them. He has to laugh and explain that actually he's ftm and he likes being a man very much, thanks. He writes articles for LGBT publications and sometimes gets invited to speak at events, and he's a great point of contact for trans+ students because he knows SO many people and resources. The New Inn is a dedicated safe space for everyone and he WILL beat bigots up with a cricket bat.

He's very into safe binding practices and making sure that the kids are being safe with their bodies. He spent so long strapping his chest up before his first surgery and he remembers how shitty it was for his body - sometimes his ribs still ache, 600 years later. He has stacks of leaflets in his office about 'taking care of your trans body'. He's determined that the world can and will be a better place, and he's going to be part of making that happen.

Coming out to Dream is among the scariest things he's ever done. But Dream just tilts his head and explains that he's known since the very beginning, and that there's nothing to be afraid of. Nothing will ever ever change how he feels about Hob, and he's just honoured to have been told. It's the sweetest response Hob has ever had, and it's very hard not to kiss Dream after that <3

[houseoftheanimefreak]

HAIKYUU SEXUALITY HEADCANONS

🐦‍⬛ Karasuno Editon 🐦‍⬛

Sawamura Daichi: Bisexual with the slightest female preference. Obviously he somewhat likes girls already in canon (The Kiyoko hand holding scene anyone???) And he just seems like the kind of man who could fall in love with another man if he found the right one. (cough*KUROO*cough). I could also see him being a straight but supportive ally as well.

Sugawara Koushi: Pansexual. He just gives off the vibe of not caring at all about the gender of his partner. He just wants to give love and receive just as much love right back.

Azumane Asahi: Pansexual. I am honestly not quite sure why I headcanon him as such, it just feels RIGHT for some reason.

Nishinoya Yuu: Pansexual. Similarly to Sugawara, I feel like Nishinoya cares little about the gender of his partner, my man just trying to be in a relationship without blowing a fuse from embarrassment every five seconds.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke: Bisexual with a heavy female preference. Obviously Tanaka likes girls, crush and eventual relationship with Kiyoko notwithstanding, he'll take any girl that gives him the time of day. But Tanaka/Noya and Ennoshita/Tanaka have my heart in a headlock so yeah self explanatory.

Ennoshita Chikara: Bisexual with no preference. He's definitely had crushes on girls, hell he's had a tiny puppy crush on Kiyoko at one point. But then he sees Kinoshita Hisashi for the first time and goes "huh so this is what going to heaven feels like–"

Kinoshita Hisashi: Gay. Look my Kinoshita Hisashi profile picture in the eyes and tell me you think he would like anything but men. Narita unintentionally has his heart in a death grip.

Narita Kazuhito: Bisexual with a slight male preference. I feel like Narita has had crushes on and even dated girls when he was younger. Then he met Ennoshita and Kinoshita in his first year and his brain took a swan dive into LGBT territory. He's had a small crush on Ennoshita that lasted like a week, then he saw Kinoshita laughing without restraint for the first time, and he hasn't had another crush since.

Kageyama Tobio: Bisexual with no preference. Contrary to popular belief, I think that Kageyama has the capacity to crush on girls. Not even his "volleyball is life" brain can deny Kiyoko's beauty. But his relationship with Hinata is where the capacity to love boys come from.

Hinata Shoyo: Pansexual. Loves anyone and anything that gives him the time of day. His heart is very big.

Tsukishima Kei: Aromantic Asexual. I just don't see him liking anyone at all. He just wants to survive high school and play volleyball that's literally it. The only person on the team who is immune to Kiyoko's beauty.

Yamaguchi Tadashi: Pansexual. Similarly to Hinata, I see him as having a lot of love to give.

Shimizu Kiyoko: Straight Asexual. Eheh. I'm definitely getting canceled for this... But I just don't see her as being interested in girls at all. Her and Tanaka have a special place in my heart. As for the asexual part, purely vibes.

[thewarnerbrothers]

alright i gotta say something

you really cant do anything when you have a moderately popular blog huh

look. im a lurker at heart. i just happen to have one issue: not being able to shut up when im interested in something. thats the only reaaon this blog exists. i didnt come here to make friends, though i ended up doing that along the way

i dont want or need your pity. what i need is for people i dont know at all to stop putting me under a microscope

newsflash: i dont matter. follower count doesnt matter. at all. do you know what its like having thousands of eyes on you all the time? it sucks

i literally cant do anything

if i block literal strangers, they get mad and try to publicly shame me for it. if i try to settle disputes amicably in private, its seen as bad. if i attempt to be open and transparent with modding decisions, its bad. if i ask people to actually talk to me, they dont. instead they kick up a frenzy in private to coordinate a stupid mass hissy fit disproportionate to any perceived slight they may have endured. if i make friends, people take it personally. people see that as some sort of insult. i cannot be friends with everyone. i wont. this hurts strangers feelings, dspite me not existing for their pleasure.

some of you feel very entitled to my time. you dont own me. i dont owe you anything. ive tried to not lose the few molecules of my mind left on a regular basis because of some people who are no longer in this fandom, and some who still are. and man. i am just. tired. of everyone. all the time.

i think even more than the fact that this series was released (mainly) as a bingewatch fest, what killed this fandom was you

not necessarily you, whoever is reading this. i mean the fans. in general. some of you are so annoying, rude, inappropriate, and willfully lacking in social skills. youre over dramatic. youre moody. youre dramamongering. youre liars. youre bullies. youre self-ascribed victims. you dont care about other human beings.

youre repulsive, frankly

you are part of the reason people have been leaving the fandom in droves. the homophobia. the transphobia. the ship hate. the inability to treat other people with basic human decency. the manufactured scandals. shut up and grow up

you know why i barely interact with larger fandom anymore? ill tell you

waves of harassment to varying degrees ad nauseam

creeps who refuse to even try to keep their fetishes to themselves in private groups that include minors

abusers (most of whom are thankfully now gone)

people befriending me only to reveal that they dont actually like or care about me as a person

the most willfully socially inept people to ever exist

nosy jerks who literally cannot stand not sticking their nose in personal problems that have nothing to do with them

people treating me and my blog like im google adsense. im not a billboard guys

people deciding i am evil for no apparent reason? sdkjfalsdjfa

thinly veiled anythingphobia pretending to be socially just (hi homophobes who imply that being lgbt by nature is 'adult')

people who just make things up. all the time. just make up a lie, say it passionately enough. if you try to defend yourself, youre seen as guilty/suspicious. if you try to resolve things quietly with only those involved, you're seen as guilty/suspicious. cant win

wankers who need to learn why parasocial relationships arent actually meant to be embraced wholeheartedly

really lame one-off trolls tbh

the most fandom discourse-poisoned takes i have seen since su hatedom was at its peak

im just tired of being nice all the time? i think you guys just like taking advantage of people you imagine to be good targets

listen. i am allowed to do whatever i want, regardless of how you feel about it. the same thing goes for you. i tend to try to resolve things reasonably and rationally, but i wont pretend ive never gotten mad or overreacted or made a decision i regret. ive made that pretty known. i like to think i've grown, and ive gone out of my way to apologize to people.

however.

some of yall do not understand that just because your feelings got hurt, it doesnt mean you are deserve an apology or an explanation. sometimes it literally is just a you problem. a skill issue. you need to grow thicker skin. learn how to curate your online experience. get. over it.

lets talk about blocking, shall we?

blocking is great. i block people all the time. i block bots, i block tag spammers, i block people who make posts with rancid vibes, i block people who ive personally interacted with and no longer wish to, i block because i get tired of seeing someones posts, i block people who post things that trigger me, i block blogs with icons i dont like. there's usually no grand reason for it, aside from egregious cases where i've been harassed. its also usually not personal. i will block people who ive followed for years. i dont care. i dont know most of yall. i know i've been blocked by tons of people and that's okay! i would rather people who don't want to interact with me do that.

if you get blocked, thats it. dont attempt to contact me again unless i reach out. im not the only blog in this fandom. youll live without my posts. i am not the arbiter of all things animaney.

im just some guy

i know that the people who need to hear this most will not care nor will they actually absorb what i'm saying. ive gotten a lot of hate over the dumbest crap. im done. i think i need to stop trying to be so friendly, because some of you think being a little pissbaby is the only way to interact with others online.

cant wait til i finally explode one day and just delete everything

tldr shut up leave me alone oh my god its not that big a deal jesus christ

[ghostsontelevision]

sorry the gaylor stuff is fascinating to me so i wrote a whole damn essay abt it under the cut

something i find personally really interesting about gaylor stuff is like - i see the sentiment expressed often in gaylor circles that taylor swift's queerness needs to exist to justify her art. like, if taylor swift isn't queer, why does she write so much about hidden romances? about feeling like she needs to protect her lover from the public? how come she writes about these big dramatic whirlwind affairs when in real life she just dates boring white guys?

there's a few answers:

writing about normal dating stuff isn't as fun as writing about big dramatic whirlwind affairs. yes, love can be stored in going to the grocery store together and cuddling and movie nights - but it's hard to get multiple albums worth of material out of the bliss of domestic mundanity

she is a woman in the public eye. her dating life has been heavily scrutinized by a million strangers since she was sixteen. publicly being seen with someone is in fact a big thing for her, even though she is a cishet white woman who historically has only dated cishet white guys

as much as she hypes up her work as autobiographical - she is capable of writing fiction and has done so before. to assume that every song is ripped straight from her diary seems like it's discrediting her own creativity (and, see point one)

and i think its fair to say that these themes she returns to of forbidden love and having to hide your feelings can absolutely resonate with queer audiences. yeah, i do think a lot of her songs probably hit harder if you imagine they're about a queer person. but relatability and identity are not the same thing, and i think it's important to both not assume that everyone with x identity has experienced y, but also to not assume that experiencing y means someone must have x identity.

however, there's another layer to this. if i were to tell a straight girl about my personal experiences with homophobia, and she responded by saying "i absolutely understand - my dad wouldn't let me date anyone until i was eighteen, i had to sneak boys in and out of the house" - i would understand this as well intentioned, but i might feel slighted or misunderstood by the fact that she considered society-wide discrimination equivalent to having to worry about getting in a fight with her dad. similarly, i've seen many gaylors express that taylor being an ally would make her absolutely unpalatable to them - if she's straight, that means she centered herself every time she talked about lgbt activism despite being heterosexual, that means all the lyrics about hidden relationships are actually about her public boring white boyfriends, that means she didn't ramp up her gay activism because she was planning on coming out and she just did it to promote her new album, that means there really aren't any more secrets to decode and she might actually be dating a football player. for a lot of gaylors, the gay subtext is in fact the entire reason they like taylor swift, and if she's a heterosexual woman, that means they have to find a new favorite artist

in case it's unclear: this is an outsiders perspective. i find gaylor stuff interesting in the same way i find paul is dead stuff interesting - the concept of this long running conspiracy theory surrounding celebrities is really fun for me. paul mccartney is alive, though, and taylor swift is, at least to my knowledge, heterosexual. i'm actually not really a taylor swift fan - i won't change the station if she comes on the radio, but i'm only familiar with her hits and also steadfastly believe that her being gay wouldn't outweigh the damage her jet has done to the environment. i don't have any investment in taylor's sexuality at all - if she's been secretly dating whatever woman she was most recently photographed with, ok cool. if she's actually for reals dating the football guy - cool. but i think a lot of gaylor stuff leans on starting from the assumption that she's queer and works back from that, which makes for poor theorycrafting. additionally, i think it's fuckin goofy to pretend the biggest pop star in the world would face career-ruining backlash for being gay, especially when she's made her stance on gay rights known. i can't imagine someone going "i thought the gay rights song was good and tasteful but knowing she herself is queer has ruined her for me". if she could come back from the kanye scandal, the jet thing, the dating a right-wing asshole thing - she will literally be fine, and to pretend otherwise is to ignore the plethora of other queer pop stars who are far less famous than her and still maintained their careers.

however, i do find that theory that she and harry styles committed vehicular manslaughter and had it covered up pretty funny. i will incorporate that one into my belief system.

[j-graysonlibrary]

Heartbeats; Paradise Chapter 1

Title: Heartbeats; Paradise

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 112K

Genres: Psychological thriller, drama, sci-fi, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Melvin Hardy and Kade Axel appear to be a match made in heaven. After a meet-cute in the rain, the two quickly find themselves in a burgeoning, wholesome relationship.

Yet, things feel…off. It isn’t the ghosts of their pasts that resurface to test the strength of their partnership—no—it’s something nebulous. Something indescribable. Melvin can’t put his finger on it but, the more time he spends with Kade, the more he starts to wonder what’s real and what’s pure fiction.  

Full chapter 1 under the cut:

Chapter One:

The sun sets.

I adjust the rod of my umbrella, cursing under my breath at the stiffness of the thing due to a long period of inactivity. It hardly ever rains here but I always carry the umbrella with me. Just in case.

Many of my colleagues rush past me, braving the drizzle before the storm really hits. They can have fun getting wet but I’m wearing one of my more expensive jackets. Probably not the best idea, in retrospect, to wear my designer suit on an overcast Thursday but I had needed some sort of pick-me-up this morning. And that just so happened to be dressing nicer to motivate myself to get to work.

My umbrella finally releases and the fabric pops open before me. I raise it above my head and step out from beneath the overhang.

With my apartment a few blocks away, I have time to think about what I’ll make for dinner as I walk. I wouldn’t say I’m a good cook but I have some staples under my belt—a necessity born from living on one’s own. A large portion of my meals may come premade but I still add a pinch of seasoning or a twist here and there. There are definitely some microwave dinners in my freezer which, at the rate this day is going, will probably be my answer.

After that, I think I’ll pour myself a glass of wine and relax some. It’s not the end of the week yet but it is close so letting loose, or, as loose as I allow myself to get, isn’t a bad idea. I’ll avoid the news stations and search for something more relaxing on the TV and, if not relaxing then at least mind numbing.

I could check my personal e-mail as well, I consider as the clouds darken and the rain pours down in sheets. The thumping against my umbrella lets me know they are big droplets and I’m even gladder that I always carry the thing with me. My mind quickly bounces back to my after-work agenda and I think of the possibility that my mother might have sent me something. It was my twenty-sixth birthday not too long ago and I have not checked my e-mail for a time.

I sigh instinctively when the woman comes to mind. She would probably have sent something vague and/or generic if she sent anything at all. With, perhaps, a slight passive-aggressive note on the state of my love life.

There is a far off rumble of thunder as the rain rages even harder and I’m forced to slow down next to a bus stop. My glasses are fogging and I have to either take them off or wipe them clean. I attempt to hold my umbrella in the crook of my elbow while I fish out my glasses case from my pocket.

I whip out the small cloth and run it quickly over the glass—it isn’t perfect but at least I can see in front of me again. I’ll clean them more thoroughly once I get home.

I check the road, finding little traffic between me and the pavement across the street where my path continues. There aren’t a lot of cars in town or, at least, there aren’t a lot of reasons to drive them. I, myself, have a car but it’s more out of want than need. My commute to work can easily be done on foot and more places in town can be reached by a bus or on bike.

Though I am sure the poor soul across the street wishes they hadn’t taken their bike out today. They have no coverage and the rain beats down on them without mercy.

As I rush over the crosswalk I notice something even more unfortunate. Their front wheel is loose and there is no way the bike is useable anymore unless the rider is less than fifty pounds. And, while they may seem petite, I doubt they’re that light.

I step onto the sidewalk and my presence alerts them. Their head rises, facing the rain, to look up at me and the world at large freezes.

Even if we aren’t the only two people on the sidewalk, it certainly does feel that way.

It’s hard to tell what gender they are but I do know one thing for certain—they are beautiful. Their hair, wet and heavy, falls past their shoulders and their eyes shine with the light of the nearby streetlamp. A pair of gorgeous blue-green irises, like the Mediterranean Sea, stares into me and I am struck by a feeling foreign to me.

“I could fix that,” I say without meaning to. While it might be true that I can fix their bike, I usually wouldn’t approach a stranger in such a way. Normally, I would think on how unlucky they were and continue my trip home but I am mesmerized by their face and I can’t seem to control myself any longer.

“You can?” They ask with a lower, almost boyish voice. Their eyes, somehow, get bigger at the prospect and their lips curl into a smile. Their pink, full lips that compliment the shape of their face as if they were created with the intent to ensnare me…

I nod eagerly. “I have a model similar to that so I have some spare parts.” I then realize what helping them entails and I worry they will be frightened by the idea. “I…it’s all at my apartment though. Are you okay with that?”

“Sure!” That brightness doesn’t fade and they look even more excited about the situation.

I lean my umbrella over their head and shield them from any more rain though they are already quite soaked. I keep my eyes on their face rather than the white shirt that clings to their body.

“Oh…thank you,” they remark cutely and inch closer. “I don’t want to get your nice coat wet though…”

“It’s alright,” I let them know, “I can get it dry cleaned over the weekend if needed.”

I keep the umbrella over us though my right arm is left out to get wet as well as some of my right side in general. My new companion drags their bike along and the rain becomes our soundtrack as we walk to my apartment, alone on the sidewalk. Even the volume of cars slows to nearly none as we get closer.

“So…” my company speaks up as if to fill the silence but maybe they are uncomfortable about long pauses. “Can I ask your name? I don’t want to keep having to refer to you as ‘handsome stranger’ in my head.”

We share a chuckle but I do feel my cheeks grow warm. This beautiful person finds me attractive as well? The odds maybe aren’t that bad since many people have commented on my looks before but still…it is a wonderful feeling.

“I’m Melvin Hardy.” I glance away, unbelievably shy at the exchange but I hope to hide it well. My heart is beating as if to leave my chest and my head is spinning just from this little bit of interaction. Just as I am ready to hear who it is I’ve become enamored with, I remember. While I feel it is obvious with one look that I am a man, I still say out of politeness, “Oh, and my pronouns are he/him.”

“Mine too!” he replies with a bounce in his step. “My name’s Kade. Kade Axel.”

So perfection has a name and it’s Kade Axel, I think. Somehow, I feel I already knew it but I’m happy to be told.

We come upon my apartment complex and I quickly lead Kade to the stairs where I can finally remove the umbrella. I shake it off and fold it back into it’s compact form while, at my side, Kade props his bike against the bricks under the stairs.

“My apartment is upstairs,” I tell him, “I hope I have a spare part…if not, you can just borrow my bike.” I add the last part and point to the bike nearby.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Kade shakes his head and raises his hands in protest.

“Only if I can’t fix yours.” I offer a smile. Plus, I add mentally, if he borrows something of mine, he’ll have to come back to see me.

“Well…okay.” He bites his lip, pulling both the skin and my attention.

I have to snap myself out of it and lead the way up. I’m relieved, momentarily, that I cleaned not too long ago. Though, to be honest (and a little proud) my place never gets too dirty anyway.

I allow Kade inside first and I shut the door after us, turning only the deadbolt lock. My part of town isn’t dangerous though I can’t say any part of town really is. People truly keep to themselves here.

“I have a hair dryer if you need it,” I say when I notice Kade fussing with his wet hair. He looks genuinely upset to have tracked so much water into my home. And, if it were anyone else, I might be irritated but it also isn’t his fault he’s soaked. “…And dry clothes too…though they might be a bit big.”

A pink blush rises to his pale cheeks and my heart swells at the sight. Kade brings his hands together in front of his chest and asks, “Are you sure that’s okay? I feel like I—”

I don’t let him finish. “It’s alright. Really.”

He still looks a bit bashful but he agrees to take some of my old sweats and dry out his hair. Before he shuts himself away in the hall bathroom, I ask,

“Do you have any food allergies? I’ll make dinner while you’re in here.”

“Y-you really don’t have to.” He flushes even more and part of me wants to continuously offer him things to see just how flustered he can get.

But, I restrain myself. “Well, if you’re getting dry then you don’t need to go out in the rain until it’s slowed down at least. And, if that takes a while, you shouldn’t go hungry. I was going to make myself dinner anyway…what’s an extra serving?”

His stunning eyes blink a few times and his brow furrows together, forming only one, small crease between them. “Why are you being so nice to me?”

Well that’s a loaded question. I can’t even be sure myself and saying ‘you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen’ already sounds creepy in my head—I can’t even imagine how it’ll sound coming out of my mouth. But if I say that he was in need and I help those in need I’ll be lying.

I open and close my mouth a few times before still, sort of, lying, “I’m not sure.”

Kade clearly isn’t expecting that as his eyes bulge and he steps back. “You…you don’t know?”

“It was an impulse,” that is a little more truthful at least, “Once I saw you there, I couldn’t leave you.”

This response brings his blush back and he avoids my eyes. Such a shame as I’ve found my new hobby in staring into his lovely irises.

“Well…t-thanks. I don’t have any food allergies, by the way. I’ll eat whatever you make.”

I leave him to head to the kitchen, worrying that I still, maybe, laid things on a bit thick. I adjust my glasses and then take them off entirely. My vision is a little blurry without them but I know my kitchen and pantry well enough to navigate it partly blind.

I settle on a simple rice dish and, while everything is cooking, I take the time to properly clean my glasses. In a way, I’m almost scared to see Kade without the streaks and water droplets in the way. How could he possibly be more gorgeous? And will I be able to handle it?

As I worry about possibly making a fool of myself even more than I already have, I check my hall closet to see if I have the parts Kade needs for his bike. I do, thankfully, but that also takes away his reason for coming back. Though, if I let him leave with my old clothes then that could be something?

I grumble to myself at how desperate I am. If Kade doesn’t want to see me again, it’s within his rights to. Just because I’m completely taken with him doesn’t mean he’s obligated to hang around. I’d be no better than a love struck teenager if I think otherwise.

Dinner is ready so I turn my focus to setting the table and making the meal look as presentable as possible. I’m slightly frustrated at myself for not asking what Kade wants to drink but I hope he’ll be alright with a glass of water.

I sit at the small table that straddles both the kitchen and the living room and I wait for a few more minutes. Maybe his hair takes some time to dry? It is quite long after all. I think on it and begin to feel anxious. There is no direction or cue so I simply wait a bit longer.

Finally, Kade emerges from the hall. He’s all but lost in my sweats but that makes him, painfully, even more adorable. His hair is shorter and blonder now that it’s dried, though it still brushes against his shoulders and looks so soft to the touch. He pulls the sleeves up on the shirt and his pace picks up when he sees the table. “Sorry I took a while—I had to call my sister.”

“Oh…no problem.” I swallow the nerves down and glance from him to the food as my mind whirls with questions and prompts. “…Do you live with your sister?” I settle on.

“I do,” he responds quickly and gets comfortable in his chair. “She’s letting me stay with her while I finish college and I help out at her café as payment.”

Finish college…he’s at least twenty-two in that case. Unless he graduated high school early, of course. He could also be older if he took a gap year or simply waited to go. It is hard to tell his age by his face as it’s so smooth and young looking—unlike me who has always looked like a grown man since middle school.

“That’s sweet of her,” I respond and urge him to eat with a simple hand gesture. After he takes a bite, I risk sounding like a creep to ask, “What café?”

Kade smiles and swallows before answering, “It’s actually the one right down the block from where we met today. Back the direction you came from.”

“Caramel café?” I question with doubt but Kade nods in confirmation. “I go there on my breaks all the time…I’ve never seen you.” If I had, I’d definitely remember.

But he laughs, covering his mouth and hiding his face. “I…it’s a new thing. I just started this past week.”

“Oh…I haven’t been this week.” I feel slightly embarrassed by my mini-outburst. I clear my throat and change topics, “So, what are you in school for?”

“Psychology,” Kade says as he drops his hand. He seems comfortable talking about this so I think it’s probably something he’s passionate about. After he takes another bite of dinner, he continues, “I want to be a grief counselor.”

“Wow.” I’m a bit taken aback. I had not expected something like that. “That’s a tough job.”

“But necessary,” he responds and, as swiftly as I had, he shifts the question onto me, “So what do you do, Melvin?”

“Nine to five office work. I got my degree in business so I went straight into the grind.” It’s boring to do and even more so to talk about.

Lucky for us, mother nature also wishes to move on from the topic. A loud crash of thunder shakes the building and a flash of lightning illuminates the room.

Kade jumps. “I guess I’m not heading out anytime soon…”

I shake my head. “You can crash on my couch if you want. I don’t mind.”

He smiles and pokes at the remainder of his food with his fork. “…You’re so nice. I’m almost waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

I raise one of my eyebrows. Does he think I’m hiding some horrible secret? Or that I’m really out to get him? I can’t exactly blame him with how odd the circumstances are and I truly do have no reason to be going out of my way to help.

“I’m not really a serial killer, I promise,” I say with a smirk, breaking some of the tension.

Kade laughs and shakes his head. “Well, I wasn’t thinking that…exactly. There just…there must be a downside to you. No way you can be so perfect. Handsome, nice, good cook, considerate, good and stable job…”

I’m thrown off guard. He had called me handsome before but I did not expecting to hear it again. “You like dinner then?” I decide to focus on that instead.

He chuckles again. “Yeah. It’s really good.”

Thunder crashes once more and I nearly jump myself this time. I use the shot of adrenaline to stand and collect our now empty plates. “Thank you,” I respond, “after I wash the dishes, I’ll grab you some blankets for the couch.”

I dip into the kitchen and quickly wash up, not wanting to leave Kade by himself for too long. My heart beats faster at the mere thought of him and I’m almost scared of how I’ll feel when he’s gone. This new cacophony of emotions can’t simply disappear, can it?

“Um…Melvin?”

His sweet voice spins me around and I take him all in. He truly is beautiful and more than a little cute bundled up in my clothes and nervously scratching at the side of his face.

“Yes?” I ask with a hitch in my voice.

He doesn’t notice or he doesn’t say anything about it at least. Instead, he starts to smile and he meets my eyes. “Thank you.”

It’s so honest and so warm that it fills my chest with a fuzzy, comforting sensation.

I don’t want him to leave.

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 3

Co-written with @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

Javier Peña x Latina!sex worker!informant!Reader/OC x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Javier goes to see Candy to 'get information', runs into the last person he was expecting.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it.

Additional warnings: References to BDSM and rough sex thats consensual, but consenual under the blanket of prostitution so much that I think I'll put it as dub con due to lack on comfort and ability to say no. None it is shown but the aftermath is, and Javi provides aftercare although he was not a participant. Smut today! The usual smut warnings I'm not gonna detail everything lol it's nothing crazy like my usual lol, there's lots of oral, piv sex, teasing, begging. B

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around dark themes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and had hair. I've decided Candy is just latina coded bc she's a sex worker in colombia so this is what I'm doing.

4.3 words, a good chunk of which was written by my beloved Fen. I've been rather burnt out of smut lately, and I wanted this to be good to establish Candy and Javier's connection and chemistry so my dear @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction wrote ALL THE SMUT FOR ME. They write wonderful fanfiction so pleeaasseeee check out their work!!

Support writers! Reblog and comment!

*****************

“And just what do you want to know this time, Peña?” You say, leaned up against the wall under a poster of Farrah Faucet.

Javier stepped up to you, broad frame and tall figure encasing you up against the wall of your apartment. He was anything but intimidating, and he wasn’t trying to be; Javier Peña was a good man, even if he didn’t think he was. You couldn’t help but care for him, blurring the lines of what a hooker and a John’s relationship should be, but you couldn’t help it, and Javi knew. Javi was protective of the women he sleeps with, and you were no exception. In addition to getting you out of legal trouble a few times, he had helped you when you had issues with creepy, dangerous men and had even helped a friend or two. 

He was someone you trusted and someone whose time you looked forward to; someone who made you cum, multiple times and hard. But it was more than that. Javier was gentle with you, fucking you hard but never leaving a mark and if he thought you were tired or in pain from previous activities, he’d allow you to take care of him in other ways, even down to a hand job. He loved connection, but he loved your comfort more.

Once, after a grueling bondage session with impact play from another client, you had been left worn, bruised, and in pain when Javi called you for a late night fuck. Sure. You could squeeze him in although you had been looking forward to giving yourself aftercare since clients didn’t pay for that side of things. 

Javi had come over in his usual charm, making out on the couch and grinding against you as per usual, touching you sensually to warm you up, but when he slid off your skirt and tried to touch you only to find you dry he stopped. “What’s wrong?”

You had tried to insist nothing was wrong, tried to promise it was fine; you had lube for a reason. When he lifted up your skirt and saw the bruises forming on your skin, he went into a rage.

“WHO THE HELL DID THIS?”

Eventually, you are able to calm him down and start to explain the concept of BDSM to him and he tells you that no one should be leaving marks like that. He gestures to the bruises and the welts

“He pays for it and I let him, Javi. You don’t have to be a hero to something I consent to.”

He begins to settle, tracing the bruises that showed despite your tan skin and the dim lighting. Yeah, okay, maybe they were kinda bad. He’d gotten carried away with the belt, but you had said he could use a belt. Technically, you could tell him to stop, or to go less hard… but this world didn’t look kindly on whores who had rules. 

“Where all did he hurt you?” Checking your exposed skin over but not undressing you anymore, Javier’s lips were pursed into a hard line and his eyebrows drawn together in focus. It was mainly just your ass that had taken the beating. Javi carried you to your bed, gently laying you down on your stomach and asked if you had any aloe vera. When you said no, he ran down to the bodega down the street. Javier took care of you that night, providing the after care you hadn’t gotten and held you close the remainder of the time he had asked for. That morning despite not giving sex and thus not expecting payment, you found the money he had promised on your kitchen counter.

“Can’t I just take time out of my day to visit my favorite girl?” He asked, leaning over you with his forearm pressed against the wall above you.

You scoff playfully. “You tell that to all your girls?”

Javi’s lip quirks up, eye squinting in a small smile that crinkled at the corners, showing the early signs of age on his handsome face. Pushing 40 looked nice on him. “I do, but you’re the only one I mean it with.” He solidified his tease with a wink.

“Really?” You raise your own eyebrow in turn. “This has nothing to do with Lorea?” 

At that, Javi pushes himself off the wall with a laugh, a genuine and hearty laugh that you love to see. “You’re a quick one, arentcha, Candy?” He crosses his arms, hip popped and takes in your whole body. He wasn’t just here for information on Lorea, after all. He’s never just here for information.

“Gotta keep an ear to the ground, never know when it’ll come in handy, like-” You gently shove him with one hand. “Getting me that visa.”

His playful manner faded but his face remained soft. “If it were up to me, I would.”

You knew that, of course. There really was no reason for the DEA to give you a vida; you’d been helpful, but nothing groundbreaking and there was no reason to believe your life was at risk so you were stuck. There were some days, however, that you dreamed… dreamed of moving to America… maybe with Javi… but those were just daydreams to get you through.

“I know, baby. Now, enough talking” Javi opened his mouth to protest, but you pressed a finger up against those lips. “We can go over what I know and what I can find out while you give me that after-sex massage.” You hook your finger on his collar and start pulling him towards the bedroom. 

“Oh, I see” He teases before grabbing your wrist, yanking it and twirling you towards him in order to wrap you up in his arms. “You think you’re in charge, all of a sudden?”

You smile sweetly at him, purposefully batting your eyelashes. There’s a familiar edge to his tone that you recognise immediately. One that just activates every bratty bone in your body.

“When am I not in charge, Javi?” You purr. 

He stares at you for a second, his muscles tense as he holds you, that split second of quiet before all hell breaks loose. 

And then he pounces. 

With a snarl his lips meet yours, all tongue and teeth as his right hand snakes up to grab your jaw and tilt your head up to meet him. The pressure is firm, controlling, but careful. Safe. 

He swallows down your chuckle and pushes you back against the wall firmly, moving his left arm to cradle your head from any real force. His facial hair scratches at your skin as he trails sloppy kisses and light bites over your cheek, down to your neck where he’s light enough not to leave a bruise but hard enough to leave you wanting. 

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging at his shirt as he slides his hand to your shorts and pops the top button. 

His fingers are warm against your skin and he wastes little time, barely undoing the zip, before he’s pushing his hand under the waistband. 

Javi groans, the sound low and deep in his chest as he realises you’re not wearing any underwear. He slips his forefinger over your clit, circling it lightly. His mouth hovers near yours, sharing your air, his hot breath against your cheek as he watches your face. 

The second you bite your lip, trying to muffle that first little whine of pleasure, he sinks two fingers into your heat and presses his thumb against your bundle of nerves. 

It’s a little awkward at this angle with the tight denim of your shorts still on your hips. He can’t quite sink as deep as you’d like, as you need. But you know he’s doing this on purpose. Working you up without giving you true relief. Wanting to make you beg. 

You squirm against him, trying to wriggle and get the angle just right.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He whispers teasingly. “Something wrong?” 

“Javi…” Your voice comes out in a whine and he chuckles. 

“Can’t the princesa ask for what she wants?” He lightly scraps the edge of his short nail against your clit, dragging downwards before falling back into the previous rubbing rhythm. 

You bite back a moan, screwing up your eyes as he presses lightly at that perfect spot inside before quickly moving his fingers away. “Please.” 

“Please what?” 

You glare at him. 

“Please what?” He strokes against you again and you gasp, your words falling out in a jumble. 

“Please sir.” You spit, shooting him a dark look that you know he’ll love. 

He chuckles, pressing the heavy bulge in his jeans against your thigh. “Oh, someone’s in a bratty mood today, aren’t they?” He kisses your mouth, not giving you a chance to retort back. And nips at your bottom lip as you slide your hands into his hair. 

He circles your clit faster, grinding against your leg as you scrape your nails across his scalp. “Fuck,” he breaks the kiss and presses his forehead against yours. His eyes screw shut as he drags his thick cock against your skin. How the jean’s button hasn’t pinged open from the strain of the size of him, you’ll never know. The burn of the denim against your thigh is oddly pleasant, the shallow thrust of his hips just punctuating the slick glide of his fingers in and out of you. 

The air catches in your throat as you try to hold in your moan and Javi’s eyes snap open. The look he gives you is dark and hungry. 

He tuts. “Oh, no, we can’t have that, can we?” He hooks his left thumb through a belt loop and tugs your shorts down over your ass before letting them drop the rest of the way to the floor. 

Now, without the material’s restriction, he sinks his fingers deeper into you. Curling them perfectly against your walls, your slick coating his skin. Liquid pleasure flows along your nerves and steals your breath. 

You grab hold of Javi’s shoulders, your fingernails digging in as your back arches. “Ah- oh god!”

He shakes his head, a condescending frown on his face. “Shouldn’t take the Lord’s name in vain. I thought you were a good little Catholic?” 

“Javi, please-”

“Not good enough.” He grows in your ear before suddenly pulling his fingers out of you and dropping to his knees. 

You gasp, but don’t have longer than a second to lament the loss before his mouth is on you. He sucks your clit into his mouth, pinching the bud lightly between his teeth as he flicks over it with his tongue. At the same time he grabs a hold of your thighs, spreading you wide and hooking your right leg over his shoulder. 

He groans deeply, savoring your taste as he sinks his fingers back into your aching folds. 

You moan loudly, grabbing onto Javi’s hair for support as he fucks you with his fingers and tongue, pushing up and against you so hard that you have to balance on the tip of your left toes and trust in his strong arms to support you. 

The words that fall from your lips are boarding on incoherent, whimpered out sounds of ‘more’ and ‘please’ that barely sting together. Javi knew your body far too well by now and used every single trick he had in fucking you dumb as quickly as he could. 

You fight your body’s urge to clamp your legs around his face, even though his forearm pressed firmly against your thigh would stop you from getting too far anyway. 

Your orgasm builds dizzyingly fast, just scratching on the edge of your mind. Your hips buck against his mouth wildly, no longer under your own control and instead just following Javi’s tantalizing rhythm. 

“Javi, fuck-” This is what you love about having sex with Javi; it felt normal, it was fun, it was good, and you gt paid for it. Win/win.

He growls low in his throat approvingly as you tug on his hair, trying to warn him of how close you are. He thrusts his fingers deeper, pushes his face against you completely as if he had no need for oxygen as he grinds against you.

Heat sparks up from your core and you come against him with a sharp cry, tears in your eyes from the force of it. The ecstasy overwhelms you, so sharp it is almost painful as he pulls your orgasm out from your soaking folds, demanding your pleasure.

He only moves his mouth away from you and stills his hand when he feels you slump a little against him, your limbs turning boneless. 

You breathe heavily, almost light headed as you come back to yourself. 

When you look down, you see Javi looking up at you with a shit eating grin that makes you want to slap him playfully.

“I think that was the fastest one yet, hermosa?” 

You scowl at him, but can’t keep the smile from your lips. “Maybe.” You say finally. 

Javi chuckles, pressing kisses to your thigh and slowly pulls his fingers out of you with a wet drawn out pop.

“Hmm, look at what a mess you made?” He raises his eyebrow teasingly as he holds up his fingers for you to see. Your creamy slick covers his fingers, catching the light as he moves his hand before he licks them clean. Purposefully making a show of it. 

He waits until you begin to speak before he swipes his tongue through your folds. 

“Javi,” you begin to chastise. 

“Just cleaning up your mess.” He mutters, dipping his tongue back inside. He hums approvingly, dragging his tongue along your slit and swirling around your clit before diving back in. 

“Javi-”

“Didn’t realize how messy you are.” He moans against your core. “Gonna take longer than I thought it would.” 

You whine as he curls his tongue inside, pressing against your clit with the bridge of his nose. That familiar heat begins to build between your legs. You worry your lip between your teeth, letting the sensation tighten in your belly until it becomes too much. 

You tug on his hair, pulling him away from you. The bottom half of his face shining. 

“Tesoro, ” you breath, “if you don’t fuck me now, I’m gonna-”

“Oh, you’re gonna what?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

You pause, then pout. “Cry.” 

He chuckles and sighs, getting up. “You sure have me bent around your little finger, bebita.” 

“What?” You blink at him in mock surprise, “I don’t know what you mean, you’re the one incharge here.” 

“Sure.” He murmurs, lightly taking hold of your chin again to kiss you deeply. He intentionally wipes some of your wetness from his cheek onto yours as he moves back, a cheeky smirk on his face. 

You tut, but he quickly kisses you again, wrapping his arms around you and pulling off your top and bra, quickly followed by his own clothes. 

His cock is burning and hard as he rubs it firmly against your skin, only breaking contact to grab hold of your ass and lift you up. He presses you against the wall and raises your legs to his hips, which you quickly wrap around him with a yelp and a giggle into his neck. 

“Gonna fuck me against the wall, sir?”

“Mmm hmm.” 

You grin. “Can’t wait the ten seconds it will take to get to the bed?” 

He shakes his head. “Nope. Plus I want Farrah to see.” He nods to the Farrah Faucet poster above you. 

You snort and shake your head at him. “You’re such a goof.” 

He kisses your cheek, rubbing firm circles into your thighs with his fingers as he holds you up. He slowly rubs the head of his cock against you, rocking his hips to make swallow circles. 

“You fucking love it.” He mutters against your lips as he thrusts into you. 

You moan as he fills you, the stretch of him igniting your deep burn of arousal into a full on blaze. 

“That’s it, that’s better isn’t it? Better for you to be full of my cock, sweet thing.” He mutters as he sheethes himself fully inside, the head of him rubbing perfectly deep. 

You barely manage a nod before he starts moving, fucking you hard against the wall. His hand once again around the back of your head to stop it from smacking against the plaster.

You hang on for dear life, your fingernails digging into his skin unintentionally as he hits that sweet spot again and again and again, knowing he would take care of you, relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure. 

You kiss him hard between your moans and gasp for breath, biting sharply at his bottom lip and whining when he nips you back. 

He shifts his weight slightly, pushing forward with his left  leg and your back arches as he presses deeper, your legs shaking. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around your apartment. Javi mutters in half broken sentences under his breath, jumbles of words that would probably still be incoherent if you weren’t distracted by the way rams into you. How he hits every sweet soft so perfectly. 

Pleasure builds in your stomach, your toes curl as he keeps up his relentless pace. Not giving you a moment of reprieve as your hurtle towards your second orgasm.  

You squeeze his biceps, trying to stave off your pleasure for a moment longer, but it’s seemingly impossible with the way he moves in you. 

“Gonna make me cum, baby.” You whine in his ear and Javi’s thrusts stutter for the smallest moment, a quiet groan escaping his lips before he recovers himself and focuses all his energy on stuffing himself into you at the exact same pace. 

“That’s it baby,” he grunts, sweat beading on his brow, “squeeze my cock, cum for me-oh shit!”

You cum hard against him, gasping as your walls clamp down around his thick length and digging your nails into his skin. For a second it’s like you're floating. 

He thrusts twice more before he buries himself to the hilt and cums deep, pressing his face into your neck and he groans and shakes with the force of it. 

You hold him for a second as he breathes hard, still pinning you to the wall. Once he regained his own composer, Javi took note of your shaking legs and knew as soon as his body weight was taken off you, you were going to sink to the floor. Always a caretaker, Javi gripped your thighs and hoisted you up; instinctively your legs wrapped around him as he carried you to your bed.

“Rub my back?”

“Happily.”

Moments like this seemed so domestic with him, seemed like you were just a normal couple spending a sweaty summer day in bed. Never mind the fact he had 10 minutes before he needed to get the hell out of here before your next client showed up, lest they ran the risk of running into each other. Always a little awkward, and you always tried to schedule a little time in between clients to prevent such meetings. Nothing but class in Candy’s room.

*

“What do you wanna know about Gabriel?” Candy asks him, the sun from her open window illuminating golden off the skin of her back. She lazily smoked a cigarette that Javi gave her; it was practically an agreed upon part of payment at this point.

“Do we really have to just jump into it? Feels so transactional.”

She laughed at that. “Well it is a transaction, Peña. I’m not just calling you up on a random Tuesday to talk drug lords.”

“Yeah, okay. What do you know? Apparently enough if you’re on a first name basis.”

She shrugged. “That’s pretty standard. I’m not going to call him Señor Lorea while he’s balls d-”

“I get the picture.”

Candy gave him some information that was useful to start with; where he socializes with other deals and producers (and hookers), how many children he has, and where they go to school (after making him promise the children wouldn’t be involved), and a few other details. Candy said she could find out more with some time, but Javi had to work to get her out of Colombia. 

“C’mon, you gotta get going before my next client.”

Javier groaned loudly, not wanting to move away from her. “I’ll pay for any time he’s paying for.”

“That’s not how it works, I can’t just call him up and cancel, this isn’t a dinner date.”

“You’re telling me you don’t have his number?” Javi teased, trailing his finger down her spin, noting the way it was more visible than the last time he noticed. He wondered if she was eating okay, or if this was a by-produce of coke parties.

“Most clients want to stay anonymous, they don’t want me calling them in the middle of the day to play boyfriend-girlfriend.”

Javi gently flicked her shoulder, making her giggle. “It’s for your safety, Candy”

“Oh yeah, I won’t know how to get a hold of you otherwise, I can’t just walk into the DEA office, heaven forbid.”

“Well, you could-”

“Can’t let the whole office know you solicit hookers.”

“I think that ship sailed.”

“Your sweet little catholic boy of a partner would have a heart attack.”

Javi chuckled at that. For his own privacy and everyone’s safety, Javi never told Candy the names of his partners; except for Steve, but Steve had met her several times. He did, however, give them all nick names if they stayed around long enough, and Santi’s was obvious. “Pope turns into a blushing virgin every time we have to go to a- a, uuhhhhh” He hesitated on what to call it without offending Candy.

“A whore house?”

“You said it, not me”

Candy turned over and smiled, shoving at him. “Go, I gotta wipe your cum out of me. This boy is a bit of a blushing virgin himself so I gotta be thorough.”

With an over dramatic groan, Javi rolled over and put out his cigarette and took Candy’s to put it out for her. Still, he stuck around as she went to the bathroom to clean up. He lit up a fresh one as he took a look around the apartment. It was clean, dressed up in an effort to hide how cheap the place actually was; posters covering cracks from age and holes made by angry clients, a carpet covering the scratches from when one shoved her into her side table, curtains perpetually covering a side window to hide the bullet hole and duct tape from when a John’s wife caught them. He wanted better for her, he did. He wanted better for all the women he was involved with, for his community, that’s why he did what he did. But Candy was special. He’d been trying to get her a visa for years, but she hadn’t given anything big enough and her life hadn’t been put in danger on behalf of the government for her to be granted one. 

Least he could do was fix her window next time. Let a little sun in.

He looked over the posters. “You got an Aubrey Hephburn poster yet?”

“No, surprisingly.”

“Good, I got you one I saw at a store. Didn’t wanna bring it in case you had one already.”

Candy poked her head out of the bathroom, watching Javi pull on his socks and shoes as he sat on the bed, jeans still unbuttoned. “Javi! You didn’t!”

“I did, hermosa, I’ll bring it next time.”

Grinning, she turned back to fix up her hair in the mirror. “You’re the best, I’m going to give you the best blowjob of your life. Can you hand me some lingerie, baby?”

“Making me pick out what you’re wearing for your next boyfriend, awfully messy.” He teased, but found a red and black bra and panty set.

She dressed as Javier finished smoking his second cigarette.

“Alright! Out!” Candy walked out of the bathroom in a silky, fluffy robe. Javier couldn’t help but smirk at the juxtaposition between how she looked for this new man and him. For him, Candy was perfectly happy to be dressed down with him comfortable, herself. She didn’t have to dress up for him.

As she ushered him out the door, Candy planted a kiss on his cheek before opening it, only to find Santiago on the other side of the door, leaned up against the wall.

“Diego!” Candy said, sounding surprised. “You’re early.”

Santiago, however, was staring wide-eyed at Javier with a strike of fear in him. 

“Garcia, what the hell are you doing here?” Javi couldn’t help the jealousy that crept up in him, instinctively trying to wrap an arm around her that Candy shrugged off. What was he doing with her? He needed to be careful, a DEA agent in bed with a prostitute that was frequented by powerful and dangerous men, he was setting her up for harm. Santiago couldn’t protect her like him.

“I… I was going to wait until it-it’s time… I didn’t want… to be… rudeImsorryIllgo” Santi averted his eyes and headed back towards the stairs. He stopped only long enough to stuff his hand into his pocket, pulling out the money he was going to pay her and sitting it on a wide guard rail before descending down the several flights of stairs.

Candy turned to Javi. “What the hell was that?”

Grabbing the money and placing it in Candy’s hands. “My partner.” Javi quickly ran down the stairs, following after the flustered kid. “GARCIA!”

*****************************

CATS OUT OF THE BAAAAGGGGGG

Poor little flustered santi ;-; I love him.

And my precious, protective baby boy.

Also, THERES A PLAYLIST NOW! Please comment songs you think fic the vibe. 70's music but 80's and 60's is okay too, even outside of those decades as long as they fit the vibe or the content (I.e. I have some Lana Del Rey because I think it sounds right, or I have sugar sugar by the archies bc the line "you are my candy girl" etc.)

Gonna take a moment to plus my latest series on my dark blog, Blessed be the Fruit, a Handmaid's Tale AU with Joel (and some Tommy) it is a dark fic so dub con due to the nature of the AU, but not the gaphic horrors of TWW.

Again, thank you thank you thank you for my beleoved Fen for writing the smut!

Comment to be added the tag list!

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @itspdameronthings @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbool @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @axshadows @englandsgray @starsthatwatch @laiisleitte @fairlyang @alwaysmicado @theywhowriteandknowthings @casa-boiardi @lostfleurs @ninebluehearts @puglover12 @sub-aro @laiisleitte @itspdameronthings @heareball @comfortlessjoy @csarab615 @calaveramangonda @bit-dodgy-innit @stevngrant

[esotericfaery]

Astro-snippet: The Sun is opposite Black Moon Lilith on March 7th.

Major ego issues will happen between men and women. Women, watch your tongues with men & look for the deeper roots and how to heal. Men, watch your tongues with women & look for the deeper roots and how to heal.

This is for all types of relationships, including (in many cases especially) acquaintances and co-workers. I'm seeing a lot of people confronting and confronted by people they don't know well, on slights or perceived slights.

Seeing, as in seer, though without cards this time. As always, if you (only people I'm actual friends with, as in, we have chatted and connected on a personal level) are doing your own card readings and would like my help clarifying, let me know. A lot of people (couples especially) are still dealing with delayed outbursts, or the aftermath of the Pluto-Mars-Mercury-Sun conjunction string recently.

And now, the stellium of Saturn, the Sun, Mercury, & Neptune in Pisces is causing confusion about whether or not people are using illusion or intuition to think & communicate.

LGBT people are also susceptible to this tug-of-war between feminine and masculine energies of course, though possibly not as much. Maybe for some, part of why they were born that way is that they’ve surpassed, or are further along in integrating their inner feminine and masculine energies.

[marciabrady]

Hi Marcia! I read your meta about Snow and Aurora's ages and it was very well thought! I wanted to ask you about how do you view the issue of Ariel's age? Unlike Aurora and Snow who are timeless or 16 in a fantasy world where it was the age of majority for young women, Ariel was written much like a very modern teenage girl. I remember that in the DVD commentary both Mark Henn and John Musker stated that they wanted Ariel to feel more like a real teenage girl in aspects like wanting to grow up but still being innocent or even in details like her fawning over Eric's statue, which Musker made the comparison of a teenage girl fawning over her favorite rock star poster in her room. She was also partly inspired in Alyssa Milano who was 16 at the time to model her physical appearance (alongside Glen Keane's wife and Sherri Stoner who were both adult women). Because of that, many people have issue that she married at age 16, because many feel as if an actual high schooler got married. I still don't buy it, because I remember in a magazine that Ron Clements said that through the movie Ariel grows from a teenage girl to a young woman and Glen Keane stated that her story is that about a teenage girl becoming an adult, in other words, her story is one of coming of age, but what do you think about it?

Thank you so much for letting me know how you experienced my thoughts! The Ariel topic is a very divisive one but, as always, I have an opinion about it lol

So, I can definitely tell you've done a ton of research from all the references you listed! I totally agree that there's an argument to be made about The Little Mermaid, in some ways, being a coming of age story for a young girl but I always felt it was more of an allegory for the gay experience and found the former take just substitutes as the straight, sanitized version of this. With the original author being LGBT and Howard Ashman adapting it, there's so many gay allusions and parallels that go over so many people's head, and it's so much more than just a straight woman who doesn't fit into her society. The inclusion of Ariel being sixteen, like in Aurora's case, was a nod to the original fairytale (though in most versions I'm almost certain that the mermaid is fifteen), and the film admittedly suffers from slight tonal issues because it's caught between being a fairytale and the newer shift to intentionally making stories more modern (despite the fact that the previous films all had timeless storytelling, I think every generation just thinks they're reinventing the wheel; I remember reading interviews Lesley Ann Warren did when the '65 Cinderella came out and she was claiming it was a much more realistic and modern take on Julie Andrews's Cinderella and, in retrospect, Julie's seems to emerge as the more realistic and modern one).

I think saying Ariel is sixteen does give the audience insight, as I mentioned in a previous ask with Snow White, of how much less...cynical she is about the world around her. She isn't blind to the horrors that humanity is capable of committing, but she has such an untainted view of life, especially in comparison with Triton, and she's his direct foil when it comes to the storyline of the film. I, personally, still take this with a grain of salt though because it's undoubtedly a fantasy film and the reason that we're clutching so tight is because 18 is the legal age of consent in our modern times, in America, but even if this was a super literal take...16 would've been the age Ariel would've gotten married anyway in the time she comes from? That's not even counting what the age of consent would've been in Atlantica or in Triton's kingdom, and those rules are probably different than ours. Besides, we don't know how much time passes between Triton turning Ariel into a human and the wedding happening. Also, nothing is sketchy about her and Eric's relationship because it's impossible that he's more than two years older than her, which still places their relationship in a healthy dynamic in terms of consent.

I think Mark and Glen and the directors, and even Jodi's, take on Ariel is valid but I think the most important, when examining artistic intent is Howard Ashman's, as he and Hans Christian Andersen, are the creators of Ariel. Jodi even says that she mimicked Howard's reading of the lines and, if anyone ever loves Ariel, it's because of Howard Ashman's take and how he coached her. Everything about Ariel comes from Howard, and I think the reason we never see Ariel in the sequels the way she is in the original film is because of the loss of that fundamental gay perspective. So, yes, technically Ariel could just be seen as a realistic teenager who's coming into her own but I personally see her as someone who's learning to live life in a society that oppresses her, against all odds, and in the face of a family that doesn't understand or accept her. It's about Ariel discovering herself and finding her place in the world and I think it's safe to say these things could be true about any teenage girl, and I think it's a great diversion for directors who want to make a film marketable to middle America and generally present it as more acceptable, but those things are so much more true to the gay experience and community. How do you live in a world where you constantly have to hide yourself, change who you are, lie to your family for your own safety, feel like an outsider? Where the life you want is seemingly accessible, but also out of reach? How that move, which will in so many ways be validating and help you feel like a participant in life as opposed to a prisoner, will at the same time give you a new life and love and family, while completely alienating you from everything you've ever known and is dangerous and can cause you to lose everything- even your own life? Does having a voice matter that much if you're stifling yourself and who you are on a daily basis? Or is the voice of authentic self-expression more important? I swear, I could talk about this forever, but to answer your question, I think the teenager coming into her own take is fine (and Ariel being sixteen...again, she came from a different time when people got married much younger, Eric wasn't that far apart from her in age, and we don't know how much time passed between her becoming a human and the wedding), but I ultimately think it's the story of a gay person finding their place in the world and having to navigate through life alone and risking everything to be able to live authentically. There's a reason the Disney studios credit Howard with "giving a mermaid her voice."

[honeyjars-sims]

Part of a series of flash stories intended as a supplement to my story Safe Harbor. Context for this post is here.

Solomon was feeling optimistic after he and David sat down with Cece to explain what all their jobs entailed. She did seem to understand more about how the family's financial status afforded them opportunities that others don't have. Of course, he knew it would take more than one conversation to help his daughter see the bigger picture, but at least he and David had a better idea of how to approach things.

Working at the LGBT Youth Center wasn't easy, but Solomon knew he was meant for his job. Everyday he was face to face with young people in the community who were experiencing things he also dealt with when he was their age. It was fulfilling to see them persevere through all of the challenges that had befallen them.

Solomon reflected on the day his dad Reginald found out he was gay. A friend of his father had seen Solomon entering the local gay bar and passed the information onto Solomon's dad. Solomon was finishing up his Bachelor degree and still living with his parents at the time. When he arrived home from class one day, he was confronted by an angry Reggie. What happened next was a blur, but he remembered snippets of what his dad told him: "not in my house," "I raised you better than that," and "you're not really like those people," were some of the phrases that came to his mind.

Reggie kicked Solomon out that night. He couchsurfed at some friends houses for a while, but the feeling of rejection and loneliness became too much to deal with. He returned to his father's house and promised to turn away from the gay "lifestyle." He tried for a while; he began dating women and focusing on his school work, suppressing his true feelings. When one girlfriend started talking about marriage, he knew he was in too deep. He couldn't fathom getting married to someone he didn't love and possibly having a family with them. So he told her the truth. She didn't take it well. Neither did his father when he officially came out and said he was done hiding.

Solomon and his father were once again on the outs. Throughout the years they came together and then fell back apart. Reggie did, at times, express regret for denouncing his son but still struggled with the reality that Solomon was in a relationship with another man. He grew to love Cece (he initially said she wasn't really his granddaughter since they weren't blood related). But when Solomon and David got legally married, Reggie retreated once more. A few years had passed since then, but they still hadn't spoken.

Later that evening Solomon received an unexpected text from his mother Simone. He initially feared the worst after their sporadic contact, but the text simply said: "Do you have anything planned for Cece's birthday? We would love to come and help you set up and celebrate!" He was at once filled with both hope and doubt. He wasn't sure if he would ever mend things with his father but he knew he would regret not trying. After a slight hesitation, Solomon told Simone that she and Reginald were more than welcome to come. He hoped he wouldn't come to regret that decision.