#we love a lesbian who shaves her head

[aroaessidhe]

2023 reads // twitter thread      

Wild and Crooked

YA contemporary 

about a girl whose father is in prison for murder, moving back to her hometown

and the son of the murdered man, a boy with cerebral palsy

they unknowingly become friends, until new evidence is found and their small town is thrown into chaos - and they have to find out the truth

lesbian & questioning MCs, no romance,

[v1sexual]

always forever ; vi (arcane) part three !

a collection of (modern) domestic life activities with vi ! college au , modern au , self indulgent

part one, part two, part three, part four soon !

note : this one’s a short one *sighs* i promise part four will be longer (& juicier, can’t wait for vi to meet the parentals)

content warning : swearing, nsfw (will let you know when the nsfw content starts!)

drable three : officially yours

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who ever since you guys made it official(ish), became more comfortable in parading around the apartment shirtless. sometimes she’ll have a sports bra on or a wrap around her chest, but most of the time she’d just have her bare titties out (especially during warmer weather). sometimes when you scold her, she’d even joke around and ask you to join her. “free the nips baby!”

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who’s your stereotypical masc lesbian. hello ?? the red/pink hair color, the one side of her head shaved, the tough exterior but is actually a softy deep down? i mean the woman looks tough and acts tough. despite that though, vi would 100% combust and explode into flames whenever you call her “my pretty girl”, “my baby”, “my girl/girlfriend”, most especially when you call her “my pretty violet”. if vi was a cut she’d be purring whenever she’s around you, if she was a dog her tail would be wagging 24/7z

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who definitely has attachment issues :( she hasn’t really opened up everything about her past (which you don’t mind, you know that she’ll tell you eventually when she’s ready), but you know that something bad has happened in her childhood that affected her mentally.

ꕀ ever since you and girlfriend vi ! became a couple (officially), you noticed how she became clingier and touchier than usual. cooking? doing the dishes? rest assured that vi would be standing behind you. her front against your back as her head rested on top of yours, her arms resting around your waist. showering? taking a soak in the bath tub? the next thing you know vi would be knocking on the door and asking if she could join you.

during times where she felt as if she’s being too much she would try to distance herself, which you’d notice of course and it would always end up to you two cuddling. you know damn well that you’re as clingy as her.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who has never slept in her own bed ever since she told you she loved you. to be honest, it doesn’t really matter where she sleeps as long as it’s next to you. staying over at ekko’s for band rehearsals? you bet your fine ass she’s crashing there as well. visiting your childhood home for the weekend? your phone would always end up dead in the morning, the battery drained from being on call with vi the whole night.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who loves spoiling you. during the days where she’d wake up earlier than you (because of rugby or hockey practice), she’d always make sure to drop by the coffee shop you fell in love with to grab you your usual coffee and pastry combo. whenever she’s running late and doesn’t have the time to wake you up, she’d leave the food on your bedside table accompanied by a sticky note containing her scribbled handwriting.

to: the prettiest girl

from: the love of your life :p

good morning baby :D i hope you had a good sleep (pretty sure you did, you snored so loud last night lol) anyways, sorry for not waking you up and giving you the pastry and coffee. we finished practice late and i had to attend heimerdinger’s class :< i hope you have an amazing day mi luv <3 enjoy the food.

p.s pls text me when u wake up ;)

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! absolutely loves buying the two of you matching outfits, especially if they’re the stupidest, funniest, brainrot thing ever. she got you two matching fairy princess batman boxers, hello kitty x batman pjs, and the corny sexual shirts from spencers. she’d also plan couple halloween costumes in the middle of december.

“baby! i know what we’re gonna be for halloween next year?”

“omg what??? i love matching costumes.”

“sukuna and cinderella!! i can be sukuna and you’ll be cinderella of course.”

“… what?¿”

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who loves taking you out for a late night drive, especially if you haven’t seen each other the whole day because of school, work, and extracurricular activities. vi hates it when she doesn’t get to spend time with you (yes, cuddling in bed before sleeping isn’t ‘spending time with you’). when both of you are finally home, she’ll offer to take you out for a drive immediately. doesn’t matter what you guys do or where you guys go, vi did not care.

feeling down in the dumps? had a rough day? failed a test? your girlfriend would immediately take you on a 30 minute drive to the nearest beach to stargaze (and maybe take a quick dip). hungry? vi will drive you downtown to ya’lls favorite fast food joint that’s open 24 hours.

ꕀ i think we all agree that girlfriend vi ! is a gamer. she has a gaming setup that costs around $5000 (probably more tbh), a ps5, and fucking nintendo switch. one day you got curious and asked vi to teach you how to play some of her favorite games and boy was she ecstatic ya’ll basically spent the whole day playing games, switching from the ps5, to the switch, and even her pc.

! nsfw !

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is a munch. there. i said it.she LOVES eating pussy. i don’t make the rules

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is a giver. she’d rather go down on you than you down down on her. despite that, she doesn’t really mind you eating her out (especially when you 69).

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is definitely a switch, but tops you most of the time. tbh she’s a service top. anyways, she absolutely loves it when you ride her and sit on her face. something about you showing the tinniest bit of dominance makes her pussy drool, oh lawd she coming.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! who loves your titties. rest-assured that she’ll either have her hands or her mouth on them all the time.

ꕀ sex with girlfriend vi ! be so good that it feels like two cis women might actually make baby.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! likes it rough, but still prefers soft vanilla sex. her fave position (other than 69) is missionary, she loves seeing your face (especially when you come).

ꕀ ya’ll this woman’s stamina though. girlfriend vi ! can go for hours and multiple rounds. i mean she does play rugby & hockey, so it makes sense. its still crazy how long she can last though.

ꕀ girlfriend vi ! is an absolute sweetheart. aftercare is always a must. she’d wipe you down, runs you a bath (when you’re not too tired), would get you water and food as well. cuddles after sex is a must as well.

[psychhound]

i ran a combat this weekend that went really well and one of my npcs got beat to shit but also got to revivify a pc and it was just really chewy and cinematic and not that she isnt always on my mind but shes been on my mind a lot more this week BUT

ive been reflecting a lot on her year in the game so far, and the reasons i made her gender conforming but visibly trans when i introduced her, versus how thats evolved with her relationships to the pcs and other npcs now

and i dont know. it makes me really emotional. i think theres no right way to do trans representation but there are certainly some wrong ways. i think making her the first binary trans woman introduced and also pretty clockable would rub a lot of people the wrong way. shes tall, shes buff, she has a deeper voice, she doesnt cover her adams apple. and as a trans man who passes pretty damn easily it means so much to me that she Doesnt and shes so like ... adored? and cherished?

she was introduced as a roadblock for the party and got adopted very quickly, soon becoming a staple of the game. my players are obsessed with her and adore her and talk about her all the time. anytime she does anything theyre like okay but shes our babygirl and we love her forever and also can we marry her. shes an autistic trans lesbian wolfgirl, and her being trans is a lore point because shes the angel of the female wolf god. shes dopey, shes awkward, shes a little stupid, shes very caring, she makes the puppy eyes emoji face just at all times

and shes not visibly gay but is visibly trans. shes not punk. she doesnt have a shaved head or tattoos. overall shes pretty cottagecore and has middle school girl handwriting. she really loves baking and sewing is her most "fun" hobby. shes very gender conforming and also its pretty easy to tell shes trans and everyone just. loves her? two pcs are very parental towards her, we're leaning towards a romance with another pc. despite being a big strong knight, when shes scared, she gets comforted and consoled. she got hurt during the fight and cried about it and got hugged

i dont know. this is a very long rambly post but. living in a very conservative bible belt state, i feel a lot of acceptance as a man and i feel its very very conditional on the average person not knowing im trans. my friends are great and my cohort is largely great and my professors have been supportive. dating has been,, mixed. but then i do wonder how review bombed i would get if my students knew. i wonder how much of how well people treat me is dependent on me appearing to be something im not

and florence cant hide that shes trans!! and people love her!! they think shes wonderful and loveable and hot and adoptable and also complicated when conflict happens. theres no reveal theres no coming out its just like. yep heres florence shes trans shes dorky and sweet and cute. because of the magic of this world, some people may have Questions of how she transitioned, but its not like ... her identity ever gets questioned. you know? its not hidden and also not a problem. its just florence. and shes been such a good character for me to play because of that

okay post over go support your local trans doggirl

[hiseyeisonthesparrow]

Mini Miracle #01:

[in which Sparrow records the little things that strengthen his testimony]

So I'm going on a blind date on Friday. That isn't the miracle. The important context is that we met in a BYU free food groupchat, and that he said that he would be willing to go on a date with 90% of the girls on campus. I know, I know, not the best guy for me to be seeing. But he offered free ice cream and I'm not gonna turn down free ice cream so I DMed him and said I would go out with him.

Anyways. The problem lies in the fact that I do not look like 90% of the girls on campus. BYU, if you didn't know, is full of like, the most gorgeous suburban blonde white girls you've ever seen, and I am a weird little gremlin with dyed and shaved hair, a face only a mother could love, a complete inability to wear makeup, and a wardrobe that screams "raging lesbian".

So this morning, I was sitting in my biology lecture, worried that I am going to be an utter disappointment to this guy. And to make it worse, last week, I saw the guy who I typically sit next to in lecture [who I thought I hit it off really well with] on a date with another girl. So when I leave my class, I put on my headphones and prepare to get the heck out of there, blasting some Midwest emo tunes.

But right before I head down the stairs, I see a girl running after me. I stop and take off my headphones, and she says, "Hi, I don't want to bother you, I'm so sorry, but I just wanted to tell you that you're so pretty."

Jaw drop.

I literally covered my mouth with my hand and told her, "are you serious??" She said, "Yeah! And also I really like your Harris pin." [I have a Vote Harris pin on my backpack] I said "oh my gosh thank you so much", and we both skedaddled to our respective locations.

I don't know what possessed that girl to stop me and tell me she thought I was pretty. I don't know if she actually did think I was pretty, or if she just knew I needed to hear it. I don't know if she knows that she made my day. I don't know if she knows that in that moment, she was a conduit of the Lord and of the pure love of Christ. But I hope wherever she is, she reaps the blessings of the kindness she showed me.

[treasureguardingdragon]

i adore freya in fanfic sm you don’t understand

first we get the classic angsty freylin canon vibes

but then we have lake wife!freya and she is adorable

then we have poly freya, who ,yes, is married to merlin but is so excited and supportive of merlin dating arthur or gwen or half the knights of the round table

and then theres modern au freya, who consistently seems to have pagan, witchy vibes and has the side of her head shaved, and is either stupidly in love with merlin or is so very lesbian, no inbetween

OH AND the chomp!freya who leans into her cutesy bastet vibes and is chaotic and bites people

this world needs more freya appreciation okay

[real-total-drama-takes]

the tddddi episode was so funny bc the teams and then they were never mentioned again. like.

team tired bitches trademark

goth bitch who hates half of the contestants while simultaneously being friends with all of them and kissing half of them

stereotypical sassy black friend who would beat up 20 people for the goth bitch and a cringe weeb

lovesick boy destined to be dumped in two weeks

team bisexual

boy whose entire personality is fart jokes and having a crush on a prettyboy

brickhouse who wouldn't hurt a fly but hates the prettyboy

absolute failure who asked out the same girl at least 3 times and got hit in the balls by her multiple times but somehow still got her bra

loser jock living off of participation trophies who likes girls but definitely likes boys too

team leftovers

mean girl who recently got her head shaved

cringe weeb who doesn't stfu

team duncney

punk wannabe who goes to jail every saturday

type-a do-anything-to-win mf

team gidgette

party boy who just wants to go home and hang with his bros

clumsy disaster who somehow made it to the merge after destroying a violin and then in the very next episode burning a tent down

team e-scope

clinically insane bitch who lies constantly

sarcastic asshole who has one (1) friend

anger issues lesbian who racked up more votes in one episode than anyone in the shows history

team small country

dumb blonde who forgot her boyfriend existed but also built two bikes from scratch easily

the ugly boy crazy best friend who we still have love for in our hearts

misogynist farm boy who has no friends

team BFFFLs

lesbian with no independence arc when she deserved one

her bi best friend who she's in love with and doesn't know it

prettyboy who has a short temper

.

[elizabethrobertajones]

I wish to hear the tales of siren Lizzy driving men into rocks with disinterested lesbian asexuality! Those sound like fun stories!

Oh my god, like, the most recent event, I think I manic pixie dreamgirled a dear friend, who we'd met in weird circumstances (he and his brothers were notable town characters being small business owners with a visible presence and themselves as a trio came across a lot stranger than they actually were. A bestie of mine met his brother and married him and he's the nicest most normal guy, so his brother (much nerdier) became a sort of friend-brother-in-law and we became friends, but I'd reacted in shock and awe to my friend having met her husband by chance since I recognised them in a very silly way and when I was a teen had used their appearance for characters in a story on account of them being Notable Strange People In Town and I'd thought they were only background characters in my life forever until then and therefore fair game to take inspiration from.)

I was just being me at him (chatty, fun, extremely weird, trying not to admit I'd basically made up spy fanfiction about him and his brothers a decade earlier) and he also was sort of weird in a benign normal nerdy way so I didn't think there was anything strange, until I realised he was coming around regularly and bestowing quite large gifts and writing really really really nice birthday cards specifically to me (easy to tell when you're a twin and your twin also gets a present and card from him) which made me start to realise he miiiight have a crush on me, and then I thought about it some more from his perspective of meeting me and how I can be rather full on in person and he was a wallflower who rarely got any attention especially compared to his two more conventionally normcore brothers, and realised I'd accidentally enabled him up to the point that I briefly considered just marrying him to avoid the embarrassment if he did proposition me. But I sort of gently ghosted and just toned back the interaction to group chats and collective meetings and while I feel sort of bad and miss hanging out with a friend who is in town, it was probably very sensible because he was way too nice to accidentally destroy through awkwardness :P

since I'm biromantic and demisexual I do end up crushing on guys and giving anyone a really long time to shoot their shot because I can't tell if I'm just mildly crushing and it could be more or if it's going to turn into more but it is Always a catastrophe and makes me feel More Gay Than Ever in the aftermath and I know now after so many failed attempts I am Not Meant to date at the very least any guy who is excessively cis, het, shy, or normcore in interests because I just end up in a spiral about not matching them in any way whatsoever despite my surface ability to start crushing, and it causes an enormous communication gulf that they are never equipped to handle and I always end up feeling like I'm trying to explain myself to a brick wall until I give up and things fall apart, because in the same time I was giving them a run up, they had already fallen completely in love or else thought we should already be having tons of sex and were hurt I wasn't interested yet and couldn't SAY that so they get passive aggressive and super weird and - aaurgh. Sometimes I just want to be friends, also, but that can also be seen as interest from some people so then they hit a double brick wall where I only ACCIDENTALLY led them on and I sometimes don't even know myself which one it was if I did crush on them at least a little at first.

I do catch myself thinking sometimes that I should just shave my head to try and get some sort of visible barrier up XD

[vi-sigoth]

Watching the most recent interview with Ellen/Eliot Page makes me so fucking ill that I don’t have any jokes left in me about her appearance. I just feel like crying when I look at her. Juno came out when I was in high school, and a lot of people told me then, and continued to tell me, when I was in my early 20s, that I looked like her. I don’t think we bear a huge resemblance to each other but we could be related, maybe cousins or half-sisters, and we both presented sort of quasi-androgynous, not butch at all but not extremely feminine either, and we have very similar low-timbred voices and I had and still have kind of weird, off beat humor, sorta like the character that Page played in Juno. I don’t think we looked like each other more so than my general demeanor and mannerisms sort of reminded people of Page. I always took it as a compliment. Ellen was very pretty to me. I was a fellow flat-chested, low-voiced brunette, someone that a lot wouldn’t consider, looks-wise, a feminine bombshell knockout. And that was devastating to me when I was younger. I hated my perceived ugliness. Hated my flat chest. Hated being tall and having a low voice. Hated all the jokes made about me when I was in music school about how I was “a man” (I have a low mezzo-soprano singing voice and can sing contralto roles pretty easily too). As I left my teens and then my 20s behind, I gradually started to like the way I looked. I started developing my own personal clothing style that was flattering to my body. I started not caring if others didn’t like my appearance. So some guy got insecure because I was taller than him? His loss. Some guy didn’t want to date me because of my tiny A-cups? Good, I don’t want to be with someone that shallow anyway. A lot of men thought I was too weird? I am weird and I’m not about to stop being weird anytime soon. My husband loves the way I look, and the way I am, and that’s good enough for me. And I learned, even as I became more conservative and traditional in my leanings, that the TERF girls are really correct: there is no wrong way to present as a women. A butch lesbian with a shaved head that wears nothing but cargo shorts and t-shirts is just as much of a woman as the girl who loves 1950s fashion and rolls her hair every night and applies makeup every morning.

But I don’t think Ellen got to have that realization. I think Ellen grew up as a child actor, suffered grooming, abuse, and the casting couch (she said as much in her memoir) and then suffered years of cultural grooming and brainwashing from Hollywood and leftist media that tells women that they are either Kardashians or men, and there is no nuance and no in-between anymore. Look like an inhuman bimboid sex doll freak like Kylie Jenner, or just simply, quit participating in it, and become a sexless object. Ellen Page has allowed a doctor to cut off her breasts, and she now exists in a bizarre state of not being a woman, but not resembling a man either. Her voice is bizarre and uncanny, coming from vocal cords too thick for a female throat. If she continues taking testosterone, she will have joint problems, as her muscles continue to grow too big for her 5’1 frame. She will be at a massively increased risk for liver failure and heart problems. Her vagina will possibly atrophy so much, that it will be impossible for her to have any sort of penetrative sex at all.

I laughed along with everyone else at that absurd picture of her at the Met Gala a few years back, but it’s not funny to me anymore. She looks like a lost little girl, wearing clothing not meant for her, that don’t fit her. That never will.

[velvetvexations]

i have a weight gain and stuffing kink. when i first moved into my apartment i got a little moon chair that said it could hold up to 350lb(im 280) and when i sat in it it instantly buckled underneath me and flattened. the bars were unsalvagable. it was the most embarrassing and sexiest thing ever. i want to be made fun of how fat i am so badly about it 😫

you're so very cute and adorable I want to pinch your chubby cheeks and maybe give your fat as a good slap to watch it jiggle

Kink time: I love being a pig. In the ‘pig nose, curly tail, fat shaming’ sort of way, sure, but also in the ‘forced to piss in the mud and then roll around in it like a barn animal’ sort of way. In the ‘head shaved and nose hook permanently installed’ sort of way. In the ‘gagged with some kinna toy that only allows grunts and oinks and squeals to come out’ sort of way. In the ‘teats stretched out and never allowed to stand on my legs like a human again’ sort of way. In the ‘fed leftovers and scraps in a trough and explicitly told I’m being fattened for slaughter’ sort of way. I’ve legitimately considered tattooing additional nipples on the rolls on my belly for the full piggy effect.

I used to be real into pig play! I switched over to being super into donkeys mainly because of a person of Moroccan heritage I dated very many years ago. It's weird, actually, because you'd think that would make pig roleplay even more degrading, but I just glommed super hard on treating them like a donkey and they were super into it, and it's stuck with me since.

My kink as a woman in her 40s is being a total loser simp for hot bitchy girls half my age. There’s nothing quite like publicly and pathetically calling a skinny stacked 20yo “mommy” as I follow her around while she shops using my credit card, as I beg to slurp on mommy’s titties, as I clean her house, as she fucks my husband.

ahahahahaha that's so pathetic <3

In my quest to be a total porn rotted gooner freak, I’ve recently discovered donkey transformation porn. It’s so fucking weird and edging to it makes me feel like such a degenerate porno addict, I love it.

high five for humiliating donkey kink

gay man anon - you are totally fine!! im glad it makes you worked up hehe. you deserve nothing but adoration and a nation at ur fingertips

you're so right

There's this specific genre(?) of porn that gets me off so hard and it's basically impossible to search for - I fucking love porn where all the people perpetuating the cruel or violent or rough sex have their identities hidden, whether masked or pixellated or whatever, but the submissive/victim is on full display, instantly recognizable if you ever see her in public. Sooooooo hot.

it's a great display of subtle cruelty

not sure if kink confessions are still happening but- I want my husband to fuck a hotter tighter better woman on top of my wedding dress

I'd let him jerk me off with it <3

Lmao your response to the anon who pointed out what trfs have resorted to with you reminded me of the 'Don't bully me, I'll cum' tshirt. Would you ever own one?

well then people might not bully me lol

we need to get hornier for small tits!!! big tits are awesome but they're the only ones people talk about!!! small tits r hot too shout out to everyone with A-B cup breasts

much love to all my smaller titted pals

Are we still kinkfessing? I’m a homoromantic bisexual girlie and my biggest kink is fetishising my lesbianism for men. Making out with and having sex with other girls in a way that is very porno rather than what actually feels good - sloppy kissing/licking each others tongues, light clit rubbing that’s angled so he can see it, etc. it’s so fucking hot and I love being a ~problematic~ lesbo teaching men that lesbians are sexually available to them ^-^

love that for you anon

Idk why I'm getting nonstop recommendations for mtf detrans/misgen blogs but crazy kinks are not just transmasc purview ok the girls are also gettin it

They sure are.

since it *sounds* like a fetish, i think if we should just *turn* "transemasculation" or whatever into a fetish term. just use it for maybe detrans forcefem or the sph that is specifically catering to trans men. that is if that gross term doesnt die soon. it actually makes me really uncomfortable

It was actually already a term coined by transmascs to describe a subset of transandrophobia, but I like the way you think and encourage you to apply the "turn it into a fetish" solution in the future.

Some of the humiliationy stuff some of velvet nation seems to be into kinda reminds me of this post so I thought I should share

making my subs dress cringe lmao

yeah I'd do that but I'd also probably be dressed like the guy on the right myself

Forever chasing the sexual high I got from the domme who held my head down and forced me to eat dog food while fucking me with a knotted dildo if we’re being entirely honest..

They had your head down forcing you to eat dog food, but they were using a knotted dildo? That seems...confusing!

realizing I have a bit of a mould kink.

fascinating

I’m 19, half japanese, and the only thing that’s ever been in my pussy are the beasty dildos from bad dragon. I have the tentacle the stallion and the tongue one. And lately I’ve been getting more and more obsessed with the idea of like — leaning into that? Like I’m a dumb little hentai addict anyway so why not let people use my throat and my ass but only ever actually get pussy fucked by monster cocks, you know?

you know what you want anon

Well if we’re still doing this: I’ve been thinking a lot about my dream T4T relationship lately. Me, the trans guy whose testosterone makes him insanely ferally horny constantly. Her, the trans woman whose HRT makes it difficult to achieve and maintain erections. Obviously the solution here is for her to torture and abuse me, satiating her sadism by forcing me into more and more fucked up and humiliating things in the interest of our sex life being fair and balanced. After all, if I can get horny from a stiff breeze, she deserves the same level of dedication and commitment to her arousal, right?

You'll make a t-girl very happy some day.

it's times like these that i am glad my kink is weird and stupid and nobody would ever attempt to make it into a political statement

lucky :(

[too far gone into tumblr discourse voice] i only jork my peanits to praxis and protecting women unlike those transandrodorks with their forced masc

moral purity is what kink needs

[inquisiorastoria]

To Touch the Sun authors note: I wanted to write sad lesbian inquisitor fic for a specific audience (me) for a game that is 10 years old, enjoy! < 1k female inquisitor x cassanda tags: yearning, unrequited love/feelings, religion mention

I never believed in a higher power. But now, as I stand behind you on the balcony, the sun settling into the lines of your scars, Maker, take me—I want to meet your eyes the way you meet mine.

You cursed me at first; you blamed me for her death and all of your suffering, yet even as I was your prisoner, I couldn't hate you. Trying to ignore you was like trying to ignore the sun. Even if I was blind, I could still feel your heat, the beams of light dancing across my skin. Your presence was everywhere, forcing its way through the cracks of my heart, making me believe there could be something more each time you say 'we' or 'us.' The Inquisition, being your Herald, I told myself I could maybe believe in the Maker if you were standing there beside me.

Back at Haven, I watch as you, again, sharpen your sword, steel shavings falling and staining your trousers, your whetstone scraping against the blade, again and again. I watch, mesmerized by your calm confidence, no arrogance to be found. I wonder what sort of woman you are when you aren't sharpening yourself, the blade of your mouth sharper than any weapon. I wonder if you realize how your presence is hotter than any forge.

You learned to trust me, a woman of no standing, with decisions greater than any I have ever known. You prop me up, light my path when I feel like the darkness of the Fade will consume me; you turn my head up from the ground to face the road ahead with dignity and strength I didn't even know I had.

It's hard not to love everything about you as much as you try to force everyone away. Your orthodoxy, your tradition. It should have turned me away like it has turned many others away. Your dedication to the Maker grounds you, and yet you will never know how those same roots have woven tendrils into my heart. You are so rooted to your ways, so assured of what is right, your ideals toeing the line of bigotry. But I am blind to all of your flaws, maybe not blinded, but accepting. Because the sum of all your qualities draws me in instead, a glow from inside you that cannot repulse me no matter how different we are.

You say as the right hand of the Divine, you give, you take, you make a fist to be the enforcer. But who stands beside you at your right hand? Do you know how badly I want to take your fist and soothe your bruises? Kiss the scrapes of your knuckles and feel the calluses of your sacrifices against my face?

You don't need protection. Your guard is up to all, not just me. Yet, I daydream more than I should, much more than I ought to. Feeling the crushing weight of never knowing what it could be like to soothe your aches, to hold your heart in mine, to tell you that I can take your pain away. Will you ever know me?

I feel the ache grow each passing day, your attention never drifting, Maker, how I wish it could drift to me. Another battle comes and goes, metal against metal, and I watch as you carve out your place and our destiny in this chaotic world.

As strong as you are, you are not immune to suffering, to pain. I see it in the flash of your eyes as you speak quietly about your brother. And for all of your muscle and discipline, you still are flesh. You can be cut down just as anyone. In those moments, as I push a flask of potion to your lips, all I can think about is how I wish I was made of glass so I could be the one to give you the kiss of life that keeps you tethered to this earth, to me.

I am no worshiper of the Maker, but Maker, take me, the void that lives in me where religion should be; when I look at you, you make me truly believe in the Sunburst throne. You draw me to my knees, like a page from the Chant; you turn me from skeptic to devout; your light is a balm to my weary, tired soul, outshining the anchor in my hand.

When I finally tell you how I feel, you are flattered of course. But you are swift and polite in your rejection. Like most things, you treat my confession in your own pragmatic way, which I've come to love to hate, cutting my feelings off quickly and cauterizing them so there's no chance of them growing back again. I try to tell myself it was nothing but harmless flirting; it meant nothing, and I can return to simply being your friend, the one that teases and pushes, the one who doesn't take anything seriously, the one who can get over my little crush. But as I turn away, my humiliation is fresh, a raw, open wound that makes it impossible to believe that it won't ever stop the scalding ache that lives in me now.

Maybe the distance you've given me now is a small mercy; you're giving me a chance to realize nothing can happen, to return to my work, and to be the Herald you believe I am. And that's all I can do, return and play my part for you, always being in your orbit, but never being able to venture nearer again out of my predetermined path. I should have known not to try to reach out and touch the sun. Because, in the end, I have nothing but a burn to show for it. 

Now her hand is raised A sword to pierce the sun With iron shield she defends the faithful Let chaos be undone —Victoria 1:3

header/divider credit to @saradika !

[our-transmasculine-experience]

Sorry this is a bit of rant, but I hate toxic masculinity and gender norms so so so much because now I'm subscribing to them, and I cannot stop myself. Sometimes I want to wear a dress, but if I do, or even so much as think about it, my body shudders or I want to vomit. Because the idea of being seen as feminine even in the slightest way physically hurts me, and its all because of the way I was raised. I'm in an extremely conservative household, and there is so much toxic masculinity. My brother has fucking curls for gods sake, he is a cis man and my dad makes remarks about how its gay (otherwise sayings its feminine) to take care of his curls!

Now me being a closeted trans guy, every time I hear my dad talking to my brothers, or talking to other men when women are around there is such a stark line between the two groups. My dad and his friends and my brothers are MANLY MEN AND WOMAN CANNOT BE IN THE MEN GROUP while the women around me kind of drag me into the stereotypical womanly position and giggle and joke around and there's so much internalised misogyny. I had my mother the other day berate me for not shaving my own damn legs, her big point was that it was 'unhygienic' even though my dad is covered in hair. Then the real point came out, apparently not shaving my legs makes me look like a lesbian!

It sucks man, it just sucks. I love my brother though because even though he also as equally as transphobic as them, he doesn't subscribe to their weird toxic masculinity and honestly he's the closest I'll ever come to being out of the closest.

I used to think my sister might be in the closest but as we get older and she conforms more and more to my parents ideologies I realise I was just fooling myself. And I hate being like this, because my family are good people in general and their not unkind to me, or treat me poorly, they treat me really well, I'm really well off and I'm grateful to them. But if I ever came out, I would be cut from this family so quick it would make my head spin.

Being around all these stereotypes just feeds my insecurities because sometimes when I listen to the things the men around me say I know its so misogynistic and I know I should strive to be better than that, but I can't help but really want to fit in with them because all I want to be seen is as a boy. But I never will be. I really really fucking hate it (excuse the language) when the women in my family try to pull me into their side. I hate that my older brothers just see me as my dad's daughter from his second marriage, I love them so much and I just want to be friends with them but I'll never get that, my younger brother will though BECAUSE HE'S A CIS MAN!

Its selfish, I'm really selfish for thinking like this, because I live really really well, I have parents who love me even its not for who I actually am, and we have money. Seeing how bad others are living compared to me and then complaining about my household is selfish I know. I just wish these stereotypes would go away, I wish I wasn't trans, I wish I was a normal girl, but I'm not, I'm a boy, I'll never be a girl and it's the worst thing in the world. It doesn't help either that I'm bisexual and got outed by my so-called best friend and had to pretend it was just a phase that I grew out of. I want to scream, but I can't, and I won't. Because if I ever want to succeed in this world, I need my family's support.

I hate this, because I do love my father and my mother and my brothers. I just know they only love the girl they see. That's what I hate. My mother keeps telling me to dress like a girl, to be a normal girl, and honestly her acknowledging that I am not like your average female is the closest I'll ever get with her acknowledging that I'm trans. But I still love them, I love them so much, please don't think that they are bad people because they really aren't. I just cannot fucking stand how they continue to think that trans people aren't really trans or that being trans is 'demonic' its screwing with my head. I know they would never utter a bad word against a gay or trans person they met in real life but god the things they say when the curtains close.

Not to mention that all the stereotypes have ruined having children for me. I want children, I want to get married, but I can't! I can't get married! I can't have children because all I can think about is how that is the 'WOMAN'S POSITION' EVEN THOUGH ITS NOT! But if I ever have kids or get married, I will be shoved right into the 'I told you so' 'You're a woman!' I will be put in the feminine box, and I hate it! I will just be another woman who got married to a guy that pretends to be nice in public but is not so nice at best and full on abusive at worst behind the scenes which seems to be the constant with every woman I know. God forbid I ever married a woman!

Sorry that this was long, I really needed to rant. I'm honestly so grateful that the internet exists because I can't be out in real life, but I can be out online, even if no one actually knows who I am. Thank you for listening have a great day! I love your page so much it brings me so much comfort and joy!

i would get tf out of that environment as soon as you can. never apologize for feeling unhappy with that situation because most people would be, too. that sounds horrible, and i’m really really sorry that you have to go through that.

best of luck, brother.

[ivyblossom]

I used to be a pantser, but now I'm a planner, and I have a spreadsheet that keeps track of everything that's going to happen in every chapter of my story. The number of chapters I have planned is how many chapters AO3 says the story will have, which is how many rows there are in my outline spreadsheet.

But what keeps happening is that I plan to have certain things happen in the story, but then doing just the one bit of the plan ends up taking up much more space than I expected, probably because I decided to linger at random in some unnecessary places in the story for no apparent reason, but then it turns out that like that unnecessary place so it stays, and then the whole thing gets longer. I love that fanfiction is all about doing what you want and screw it if it's unnecessary, right? My pantser tendencies are still a factor even when I have a very clear and solid outline. I am a feral creature and my movements cannot be anticipated.

Lately every time I write something for this story I stop myself and think, "this feels like a really big departure from the rest of this story, do I really want to take it to this place?" but it's all in my outline, it can't be that big a departure, and I decided to take it to this place months ago. So I don't know what that means.

This chapter introduces Susan Pevensie to my weird, canon-respectful but now a bit canon-fighty story. Because what happened to Susan was never okay, and you can't write a story like this without trying to make it right. We love Susan in this house, and she will get her happy ending even if it kills me.

Some random story-related observations:

Every narrator is unreliable in their own unique way.

Weird memory tricks remain one of my favourite things.

Peter Pevensie is my favourite person to give genuine 1940s slang to, it is the highlight of my week to write his dialogue. Apparently I have decided to give him ADHD, because he keeps blurting out super offensive things that he then needs to apologize for saying, which makes him seem like a dick, but I mean, if you're going to be a High King and a swordsman and all that, you're going to be a bit headstrong, amirite, and why not through impulsivity in there while you're at it? He rips everyone a new one at all times but he loves you a lot, can't you tell?

Edmund has oral fixation in this story and he has had it this whole time, it in of my original outline, you can see it there if you look. He got himself in trouble by asking for Turkish Delight, and he still wants to put things in his mouth, it's just who he is, sue me.

Edmund starts out as a dick, but he's actually the loveliest person underneath that, but Eustace Scrubb starts out as a dick and is always a dick, no matter how redeemed he is by the fancy lion who undressed him and threw him in the pool. He always rushes to judgment and we should always doubt him, because in his weird little Mormon heart he is very much still a dick.

Lucy's a lesbian and keeps hooking up with uninhibited women with shaved heads OR mer-girls. They all fall in love with her in ways that permanently change who they are as people because Lucy is a life-changing experience, but she gets bored faster than even she wants to and ends up moving on to the next one, causing much life-shattering and heartache.

I'm having a very good time writing this story.

[finefiddleheaded]

Hot take, but I actually really, really love Cassie Sandsmark's current costume.

It just... it looks like how I dress. I see me in that. I see my evolution in her evolution.

I too was an awkward (unwittingly) queer kid who thought every other girl in existence was born with innate knowledge I had no way of obtaining. In my younger years I generally looked like a dorky string bean.

Then as a preteen and teen I leaned real hard into being a tomboy. At the time my idea of fighting the patriarchy was to ~not be like other girls~, but if I'd allowed myself to be truly honest with myself I would have recognized that i actually didn't feel all that happy wearing baggy, oversized clothing and being mistaken for a boy. There's nothing wrong with that, let me be clear. But to me it was either THIS or THAT. And wearing or doing anything "girly" was giving in to the patriarchy. And that's not a really healthy way to make life choices.

Obviously Cassie did the opposite, leaning way into "doing girl right," but we were both reacting to same principle: there's a right way to be a girl and there's a wrong way and you need to either gather or throw away what doesn't conform. I was looking for a fight. Cassie was looking to belong.

What broke this mentality for me was moving to an art school thousands of miles from the heteronormative white suburb I'd grown up in. I met so many different people with different experiences of the world. And wow! Lots of them had personal styles that weren't Boy or Girl or Popular Subgroup with Distinct Rules (when i was a teen it was emo, scene, punk, prep.) And I started to go "hey no one knows me here... maybe I could try on being sexy or girly or pretty or cutesy or dye my hair or shave my head. Maybe i can play. No one here cares, there's no one to fight."

But poor Cassie had to try to do her wobbly, awkward self-exploration in front of the world, while standing next to Dianna Prince and Donna Troy (and getting bullied at school.) Everything she did or didn't do with her self-presentation was automatically in conversation with their choices. And as one would expect, often her attempts ended up looking either painfully clumsy or "not herself."

In college I had a close friend and roommate (a lesbian - i was the "token straight" in my friend group which lol no i wasn't), whose style embodied feminine cuteness. She always wore heels and had perfect makeup and wore pretty long skirts. Like Cassie did with Cissie, I paid attention to how she put on her makeup and copied stuff. She gave me tips when I asked about it. I felt awkward and clumsy and self conscious (and looked it, too.) After a bit I moved on, took a little bit with me (a lot of it wasn't my thing and honestly felt like i was cosplaying someone else) and starting trying other stuff.

Over time I also became acquainted with the wider queer community and learned the gender binary was false to begin with. (God, I wish I'd known sooner.)

ANYWAY what ended up happening was that I pieced together a really comfortable, eclectic style that's first purpose is to make me happy. Sometimes I wear makeup. Sometimes I don't. Sometimes i look like a witch with tall edwardian boots. Sometimes I look kinda punk. Sometimes I look like I stepped out of a historical picture. Sometimes I *do* wear baggy oversized clothes. I have brightly dyed hair. I've tried an undercut, and pixies, and long hair and the bisexual bob. I wear a large hat and a leather jacket and heels. I wear sparkly nail polish and bright red lipstick and I absolutely don't gaf what shape my eyebrows are.

But that took years and years of saying "oooh I like that look" and going home and trying it on. (Sometimes with the additional queer head scratcher of "do I like this look or am I just attracted to this person?" Yeah, definitely not something i can imagine Cassie ever thinking lmao)

But funnily enough you wanna know what makes up the bulk of my outfits nowadays? T-shirt, leggings, comfy skirt, and leather or jean jacket. And comfy 1920s workboots. Why? It's comfy and I feel cute with very little effort!

Anyway, that's why i earnestly love Cassie's stylistic evolution and back and forth with femininity (even if I have to retrofit/reclaim some uhhh pretty sexist stuff from the people writing/drawing her.)

Because this girl? She looks like she looked in a mirror this morning and went "damn, I'm cute." She looks like she chose that skirt bc it's comfortable and fun to twirl in and for the snap the fabric makes when she's flying. She looks like she feels cool with that jacket on. She looks like she put that eyeliner on and went "fuckin nailed it" when she got the point she wanted.

[resident-gay-bitch]

Let’s be honest here, if James and Sirius were girls (into eachother or not) they would be known as the “lesbians” around school.

As someone who went through highschool as a girl having a very close friendship with a girl (and let’s face it, yes I was desperately in love with her and no it didn’t end well, but that’s bedside the point because these rumours went around before I fell for her) we were Always asked if we were dating and when we denied it people didn’t believe us. And if people didn’t think we were dating they thought we wanted to date, and yeah it was primarily guys thinking that which I’m not even gonna get into because that’s a whole sexist fucking gross thing there, but still!

You can’t tell me, if you’re like gen z or in a generation where queerness is known through your highschool and like not the worse thing in the world, that you didn’t have a set of girl best friends that everyone thought were in a queer relationship.

I happened to be in like, almost all the “lesbian” rumoured relationships at my school because, after the first one, I shaved my head and became the school dyke and then any close female friend I had meant I had to be in love with them and if they seemed smiley around me back it was assumed we were dating.

But like, James and Sirius were That Close, and if they were girls, they Would be The Lesbians. If they were just best friends, everyone would assume they were lesbians. If they were secretly in love with eachother and never said anything until it was too late, everyone would assume they were lesbians. If they were dating and just didn’t tell anyone, everyone would assume they were lesbians. If they were dating and did come out and tell people, no one would be surprised.

I think there’s something special about that. And I know from personal experience being known as the lesbian couple of the school even when you’re not isn’t the greatest, but like as someone who’s experienced that and also experienced it in a more positive way (where people were just supportive and wanted us to date because they genuinely thought we’d be good together and we liked eachother) it’s just something that’s bound to happen.

Apparently you can’t have two girls that close to eachother that aren’t your typical “straight laced “normal” girls” and have them not be cast as the school lesbians.

James was a quidditch captain nerdy smartarse, and Sirius is an alternative black sheep with severe mummy issues. They’re gonna be the lesbians.

And I adore that.

[justsome-di]

Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 17

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years. Until his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

“This is Kris and Clara,” Martin said. “The couple friend I mentioned. Guys, this is Marcus and Alex.”

Kris and Clara sat on the couch, glasses of wine already in their hands.

Lesbians.

Huh.

For some reason, Alex hadn’t expected Martin to have gay friends.

“I’m Kris.” She had very short, coily hair that was shaved down at the sides and piled up high on top. She wore a flannel top and chunky combat boots. All Alex could think about was how much Eve would have loved to know where she shopped.

“I’m not Kris.” Clara had longer, blonde hair wrapped up in a bun piled on the top of her head. She wore a short-sleeved button-down top that Alex was 90% sure he also owned. There was a joke there about lesbian and gay man fashion, but Alex would have to think about what it was.

Eve was going to be thrilled that Alex had spent his evening with a married lesbian couple. He was going to have to memorize every single detail about them just in case Eve had a million questions.

“I’m Marcus,” Damián said.

“I’m Alex,” Alex said.

“They’ve told us all about you two,” Kris said.

“Not really,” Martin said. “We really only told them a few things.”

Damián opened his mouth but then quickly closed it. Alex could feel him holding back another harsh comment.

“Thank you for inviting us,” Damián said. And then turning to the women, “It’s very nice to meet you.”

Martin gestured to the sitting area, trying to nudge the awkward greetings to an end.

Alex had never been to a co-worker’s apartment before. Martin and Sam’s place was cute. Larger than his own. There were paintings on the walls and one wedding picture hanging above a short and wide bookcase. There was a framed picture of a cockapoo who, in real life, was currently sitting between Kris and Clara, getting plenty of pets.

Damián must have noticed the dog at the same time as Alex because he let out a coo, “A dog!” and sat on the loveseat across from the lesbians.

“His name is Yam,” Martin said.

“His name is Yam,” Damián cried.

It was like his heart couldn’t take it.

Kris and Clara released Yam and gently nudged him to Damián. Yam jumped down and, eager for attention, trotted up to Damián’s ankles. Ecstatic, Damián picked him up and set him on his lap. Yam’s tail wagged so hard he was almost hitting himself. His backside thrashed around from the force making him lose his balance on his hind legs.

“His name is Yam,” Damián repeated to Alex.

“I heard.” Alex took a seat next to Damián and patted Yam on the head. He narrowly missed getting his hand licked. “I’m more of a cat person.”

“Well, now you can be a cat person and a Yam person.” Damián lifted Yam’s front legs and turned him to Alex. “I think he likes you.”

Yam’s tongue lolled out of his mouth like it was too big to fit inside. He looked at Alex for a few seconds before turning towards his approaching mother.

“He looks indifferent,” Alex said.

“We named him Yam because he looked like a Yam when we rescued him,” Sam said. She scratched the underside of his chin. “He likes to be scratched here.”

“I’m obsessed,” Damián said.

Yam was a light brown, almost orange color. His fur curled up to hide almost all of his face. His eyes and nose were barely visible. If it wasn’t gaping open, Alex wouldn’t be able to see his mouth behind his bushy mustache.

Martin passed two glasses of wine to Alex. He quietly thanked him and tried handing one to Damián. Damián was too distracted by rubbing Yam’s floppy ears to notice, so Alex laid the glass on the end table.

They sat around the living room. Sam sat with the other women, and Martin took the only chair in the room. It was a spacious area. The “sitting room” sat lower than the rest of the apartment, and that simple design made the apartment feel so much more bougie. The step down made the area feel like an actual room.

It could fit way more furniture than Alex could ever dream of having in his own apartment. Maybe it was the advantage of having double income. Or maybe it was just that Martin definitely made more money than him. Either way, Alex was jealous.

“So, Alex,” Kris said. “We know you work with Martin, right?”

“Yeah. I’m the administrative assistant in our office.”

“Ooh. Sounds fancy.”

“It’s just a nice way of saying I’m the secretary.”

“But without him, we would all be late to meetings and not a single fax would be sent,” Martin said, laying it on so thick Alex thought he might need a shovel to dig through it.

“You guys send faxes?” Clara asked. “Are you only allowed to operate like it’s the 90s?”

“They’re more secure than emails, and they don’t violate HIPPA,” Alex said, finally ready to finish the thoughts he had tried telling his co-workers for years. “A lot of medical offices still request them for privacy reasons. And when we deal with patient information, we have to follow the same guidelines.”

“Hmm,” Kris hummed. “I never knew that.”

“Neither did I,” Martin said. “So, better put, Alex also keeps us from getting sued.”

Alex didn’t respond. He only gave Martin a quick glance.

“Marcus, Martin and Sam didn’t tell us what you do,” Clara said.

Without looking up from Yam who was now receiving a great two-hand scratch under his chin, Damián said, “I’m a sex worker.”

Alex held his breath. He cautiously turned to Kris and Clara. Their eyes were wide with surprise. Or maybe awe. It was hard to tell with all the blood rushing from his face.

“That’s genuinely so cool,” Kris said.

Damián shrugged. “It’s just a job. I like working with people, so I found a very people-y career.”

“Right. That’s how I feel. Only with dead people.”

Damián finally looked up from Yam. “Okay. Explain, please.”

“Kris is a curator in a museum,” Clara said. “She likes to make it sound as dramatic as possible.”

“I like the idea of people, but I don’t like being around them.” Kris held up her hands. “Not that I don’t like hanging around you guys.”

It earned her an obligatory laugh.

“I think I get it,” Damián said. “The idea of community is more palatable than going out and seeing people sometimes.”

“Studying how people interact is always less exhausting than actually interacting with people. I don’t lose any social battery this way.”

“I could be around people all day.”

Alex believed it. Damián was thriving sitting on that loveseat, surrounded by five other people and a dog who was begging for more affection.

“What do you like about people?” Damián asked. “Is it how people visit museums to see stuff about other people? Or is it how you can study people who are dead?”

“It’s a bit of both,” Kris said. Her eyes were bright. “When I get to pick up a bowl from a thousand years ago, I think about who else has held it, how it was used for the first time, all that shit. I get to learn about how it was made, and I can imagine who made it. Or when we get a toy, I just think about how an adult, somewhere, had to have made that for a child. And that child had to have been so excited to play with it. But I get to hold it now, all these years later, and years after me, someone else will hold it, and we all become part of this huge thing that started out as mundane and routine for the people who first handled it.”

Alex must have been more uncultured than he had initially known because he had never thought about museums like that. To him, they were quiet, dim buildings filled with stuff that looked a little bit like the stuff he had in his own apartment. He had never taken any time to think about the people attached to those things. He had never taken any time to think about how his things were attached to himself. Maybe in a hundred years someone would find his French press and feel connected with him over a shared love of pretentious coffee-making techniques.

“I think about sex work like that,” Damián said. “I get to meet with a client, and I get to be one part of this person’s life. And a lot of the time, people say sex work is free of all feelings, you know? Like in Pretty Woman, Vivian has that whole thing where she doesn’t kiss anyone because it’s too personal? I don’t think you can manage to isolate all feelings with sex work. I’ve had so many clients who just want someone physically with them, and then they feel relief and reassurance and, just, simple companionship. And sometimes that’s all they need to motivate themselves to find more personal connections with other people, and then I become a dot in that social web.”

Alex’s heart swelled. He could listen to Damián talk about sex for hours.

“That’s beautiful,” Clara said. “You have to be an extrovert for the job, don’t you?”

“I think it helps,” Damián said. “For your own sake. But I know some introverts who recharge alone between clients and won’t leave their apartments unless they’re working.”

“Unlike you right now?”

“I like people! I get my energy from others.”

There was no mention that he was, in fact, working right then with his client sitting right next to him.

Everyone settled into conversation. Alex even felt comfortable enough to start talking at times, offering his insights on the state of history museums, the medical industry, and even weighed in on what Yam’s Halloween costume should be. A firefighter, he agreed, would be the more ethical option over cop.

And then, finally, Kris and Clara asked the question Alex was hoping he wouldn’t have to answer.

“How did you two meet?”

Alex and Damián looked at each other. Martin sunk low into his chair.

“Well,” Damián said to Alex. “Do you want to tell them or?”

“You can,” Alex said.

Damián tried looking casual. “It started out as a prank. Someone hired me pretending to be Alex and told him that they were setting him up on a real date with a friend. And they let me believe it was just a normal appointment. He went through a whole dinner thinking it was a blind date, and I thought he was a client. Needless to say, things got a bit awkward.”

“Oh god.” Kris curled her lip up in disgust. “Isn’t that identity theft or something? Who did that?”

Martin, face red, sheepishly raised his hand. Damián gave him a pointed look.

“Martin,” Clara groaned. “What the hell? That’s not funny.”

“That’s what I told him,” Sam said.

“It wasn’t just me,” Martin said. “It was a few guys at the office.”

“What the fuck?” Kris said. “Why would you do that to them?”

“I didn’t—It wasn’t—I feel really bad about it. I’ve been trying to apologize for two weeks now, but I keep botching it.”

Sam’s face was also bright red, but she didn’t confess to her own faux pas.

Damián nudged Alex, tossed a glance at Martin, and shrugged. Alex was pretty sure he knew what he was asking, so he nodded.

“We can forgive you,” Damián said. “Totally. You’ve been absolved of all your sins.”

Martin looked quite pleased and relieved.

“Yay!” Clara clapped. “Martin, you’re still a dick. Your work friends are a bad influence on you.”

“Yeah.” Martin pulled at his sweater. “They might be.”

Alex wanted to hear more about that. He wanted the gossip on Andrew and Stu—mostly Andrew. He had endured their bullying for years, he wanted to know how the inner workings of their circle were dysfunctional.

But Damián laid his hand on Alex’s back, and Alex’s brain short-circuited. Every nerve ending in his body lit up in ecstasy.

“We can move on,” Damián said. “I’m glad Alex and I met, and that’s all that really matters. And, really, the more we dwell on it, the worse things get. Alex and I are ready to put it all behind us.”

He was now rubbing Alex’s back, his fingers moving up and down his spine. Alex was completely out of commission. It was such a simple touch, and yet Alex’s heart was racing. Something under his belt was starting to wake up, too, and Alex was scared that Damián kept going, he was going to pop a boner right there in front of everyone.

“In that case, does anyone want to play Trivial Pursuit?” Sam asked.

Kris groaned. “I was hoping you would forget about it this time.”

“Nope! We never forget!”

“I do want a rematch.” Clara pointed at Martin. “I’ve been studying.”

“You’ve been studying?” Martin asked. “Studying what?”

“Everything.” Clara waved her hand around in gentle, slow circles. “The world.”

Kris sighed and drained the rest of her wine. “Let me go to the bathroom before we start. I need to walk through the breathing exercises my therapist taught me.”

“I’ll get the game,” Martin said.

“Clara, I made little, tiny desserts,” Sam said. “Can you help me carry them in?”

“Only if they’re super cute tiny desserts.”

And somehow Damián and Alex were alone, awaiting a game of Trivial Pursuit. Even Yam had gotten up to retreat to his dog bed in the corner.

Damián pressed his palm flat to Alex’s back. He leaned in close until his nose almost touched Alex’s ear. “Are you doing okay?” he whispered.

“Yeah.”

“Just let me know if you’re not, and I can make something up to get us out of here.”

He laid his other hand on Alex’s knee, and that felt. Different. There was no one around who could see. There was no one to convince they were a real couple. If they were truly alone, if there wasn’t a risk of anyone stepping back in in the next minute, Alex wondered what Damián would do next.

“I think I’m actually enjoying myself,” Alex said. He was breathless. He’d have to excuse himself to do breathing exercises of his own in the bathroom.

“Good!”

Everyone returned, and Damián pulled his hands away from Alex. He left behind little cold patches on Alex where his body heat had been.

Clara picked up a tiny cookie, complimenting Sam on how she managed to make it so little. Martin sat up the board on the coffee table.

Alex hadn’t played Trivial Pursuit in years. It had been popular right before he was born, and he was familiar with the maroon box that sat in his parents’ hallway closet. Martin and Sam had an updated version that boasted its newness on the front. No more answers like “West Germany” or questions about what briefly-popular 1950s actor won an Oscar in what year.

“We’re kinda nerds,” Kris said. “Martin is the best out of all of us because he knows so much useless shit.”

Alex looked at Martin, sympathetically. His secret was safe with Alex. Martin could be a closet nerd as long as Martin was kinder to Alex and Damián, which Alex was confident was going to happen.

They split into their teams and rolled their die to decide who would go first. Alex let Damián choose their color—blue—and grabbed the first card for Martin and Sam. He cupped his hand around the back to block the answers.

“’What was the first music video to air on MTV?’” Alex read.

“‘Video Killed the Radio Star’,” Martin said.

Alex flipped the card over over. “Yup.”

“That one was easy,” Damián said.

“Everyone knows that,” Kris said.

Sam rolled again. An impressive four. Clara took a card and read a sports question. Sam answered correctly. The pattern continued, annoyingly, for another two turns until neither Sam nor Martin could answer what the former capital of Japan was.

“Alex, Damián,” Kris asked, “who hosted the first FIFA World Cup in 1930?”

Alex had never paid attention to soccer. He was impressed he even knew what sport the World Cup was for. But Damián’s eyes were wide, and he inched forward on the couch cushions.

“Uruguay!” he shouted—though he didn’t need to shout.

“Yeah!” Kris cheered.

“Do you like soccer?” Alex asked.

“Haven’t I told you?” Damián asked.

“No. It’s never come up.”

There was so much more about Damián Alex wanted to learn. He wanted to know what sports teams he cheered for, what his favorite meal was, what he actually did when he wasn’t working.

“Well,” Damián said. “I like soccer.”

“Roll again,” Clara told them, stern. “Talk about soccer later.”

Alex rolled a two. They were now one tile away from their first plastic piece of pie.

“’What are the members of Queer Eye referred to as?”

“The Fab Five!” Damián and Alex said in unison.

“Gay advantage,” Clara said, rolling her eyes and smiling.

Alex wanted to ask Damián if he wanted to watch the show later—the original. There were so many good memories of watching it in high school, in secret. Not that his parents cared. They also watched it on occasion, and Alex would always pretend like he had something better to do rather than sit through an episode with them, a confused feeling of guilt stirring inside him. 

Damián and Alex crushed the next three questions, getting their pie piece for Science and Nature. Damián nudged Alex every time they answered a question right, smiling and laughing.

Kris and Clara pulled ahead eventually. Then, Martin and Sam caught up. In the end, they all had five pieces and were leaning into the board like children.

Alex had never seen Martin relax and laugh. He was usually so stiff at work. Now, he looked goofy.

And Damián looked wonderfully happy. He was beaming. After two correct answers, they had landed on the pink wedge tile—the last one they needed to win.

“’What 1990 romantic comedy film was based on a Roy Orbison song?’” Kris read.

Damián’s mouth fell open. He grabbed Alex’s arm.

“You know this,” he said. “We just watched it together last week. I mentioned it, like, two hours ago.”

They had only ever watched one movie together.

“Pretty Woman?” Alex asked. 

“Goddammit!” Kris shouted, trying to throw the card down on the table. It gently floated down among the others.

Sam groaned and fell into the back of the couch with her arm dramatically thrown over her eyes. Martin scoffed. Clara quietly applauded.

And Dami��n grabbed Alex by the shoulders.

“Did we win?” Alex asked. “Was that it?”

“Yes! See, I knew it was a good idea to force you to watch Pretty Woman!”

And Damián wrapped his arms around Alex, pulling him into a tight hug. Alex froze there for a moment. Damián’s body was warm around him. Slowly, Alex laid his hands on Damián’s back. He could feel Damián’s shoulder blades, strong and poking out just a little. He could feel his heartbeat and the softness of his sweater against his skin.

They pulled apart, Damián keeping his head low as he turned back to the board and the others. Alex couldn’t see his face. He could see just part of a smile.

“And Martin and Sam’s win streak comes to an end!” Kris cheered.

“You fuckers,” Martin said, though he was smiling, cheeks rosy from the excitement.

“This feels good,” Clara said. “Cathartic. And we’d love to celebrate your defeat, but we should really head out.”

“Us too,” Alex said. It was already going on 10. It would be his bedtime soon.

They helped tidy. Damián carried empty wine glasses to the kitchen and complimented Sam on her wine choice for the night. Sam spoke so easily to him, the tension from the week before forgotten between them.

“You and Marcus are a cute pair,” Kris said.

Alex, his heart starting to ache, shrugged. “Thanks.”

“You two just… mesh well. I know you haven’t known each other for long, but I hope it all works out.”

Alex looked back to the kitchen at Damián. He was wrapped up in a conversation with Sam. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, head tilted.

They did mesh well. Alex firmly believed that. Damián was fun to hang around even if that evening had added another $200 to Alex’s bill. God. He was going to cry the day that Venmo transaction went through and his bank account reached an even sadder number than it was already at.

“You two are good together,” Martin said, face flushing. “So it might sound wrong, but I’m glad we did go through with the prank.”

Clara rolled her eyes. “Martin—“

“You’ve always been so timid,” Martin said. “We’ve known each other for, what? Six years? And this is the first time you’ve ever come out of your shell around the office. Whenever Marcus picks you up, you smile at him and rush out with him. You’ve never done that before.”

“I’ve never smiled before?”

“You’ve never smiled while running out of the office with someone else.”

Alex hadn’t realized he had been so sappy towards Damián. How embarrassing.

“I didn’t know you watch me from across the office,” Alex said.

“I usually don’t. But I really have felt guilty about the prank. And whenever Marcus comes in,” Martin lowered his voice. “Whenever he comes in, Andrew and Stu—mostly Andrew—has something to say, and I don’t know. They’re kinda pissing me off. So I let them leave on their own at the end of the day, and I end up watching you guys.”

Wow. That was way more thoughtful than Alex had ever expected.

“Can I ask why you guys did it in the first place?” Alex asked. “The prank? It was really stupid.”

“It was Andrew’s idea. I don’t know why he thought of it, but he said that if we got you a prost—a sex worker, then it would be doing you a favor. That you needed to loosen up. And Stu was jumping in, and then I couldn’t really say no.”

“You could have,” Kris said. “You could have said no.”

“I could have,” Martin said. “And I should have.”

But then Alex wouldn’t have ever met Damián, and he wouldn’t be sitting in a group of people who could be potential new friends. And he would have never gotten the chance to see the softer side of Martin.

He knew what peer pressure was like. He was starting to see the type of person Andrew really was—a bully, obviously, but a really nasty one.

“It’s okay,” Alex said. “I guess it worked out.”

But God, wasn’t that selfish? Damián could have been in real danger.

Damián walked up behind Alex and laid his hands on his arms. It was more touching than Damián really needed to do for the job. “Ready to head out?” he asked, rubbing Alex’s arms up and down.

Alex rose, wondering if that was how couples really acted. Damián grabbed Alex’s coat before sliding his own on. Kris and Clara lingered behind, slowly making their way to the coat rack.

In the elevator down to the lobby, Alex thought about Kris and Martin’s words. What was that hug about? And did Damián notice how Alex smiled at him?

“Do you want to do something else?” Damián asked.

“What?”

“It’s still early. We can go out or something.”

“It’s almost 10.”

“Ooh. Sorry. Forgot you have a normal job.” Alex thought Damián was being sincere for a moment. “I can take you home, and you can tuck yourself in bed and go to sleep for a whole eight hours. And then you can go to your little office job.”

Damián’s lower lip was jutted out in a fake pout. Alex shoved him with his shoulder.

“You’re making fun of me,” Alex said.

“We’re young! Let’s get a little ice cream or something and then you can go to sleep.”

Alex wouldn’t have said no for any reason. He followed Damián to the curb and climbed into an Uber to get to what Damián claimed was the best ice cream place in the world. Damián sat closer to him in the car than he needed to be.

Their date was over, after all. Damián could have gone home, job complete. $200 added to the total. But he was insisting on more time with Alex. And Alex could only tell himself that something good was happening.

[nervousron]

Chronological Lazlow Jones quotes and facts from Vice City, up to GTAV

22 year old radio intern Lazlow covers his eyes and hides in the corner when ladies enter the recording booth without their shirts

“Im 100% rebel. I got kicked out of school after the 12th grade, man” (for non-american readers, this would be university)

“Dont sell out. I never will”

“I am the master of darkness - that’s why my name’s Lazlow”

“Remember, Im going to be famous one day.”

Lazlow’s V-Rock Radio job application was sent in hand written calligraphy with a bouquet of flowers

Lazlow was in high school band

“I flunked school cuz im parkour”

He is pro gun and conservative

“How is that fair? I mean Im white, middle-class, very erudite -um, yknow, whatever that means- but people just respond badly to me, i don't understand it”

“-and you keep saying ‘im from the streets’, Yknow what dude? Everyone has a street in front of their house, that doesn't make you cool”

“Its kinda been a dream of mine to sleep with housewives…”

“I love your strap, you’re a great guy!”

Lazlow was tricked into joining the military briefly

Lazlow’s mom sent him to inversion and conversion therapy

“This is the west coast. I’m only into lesbians, man”

Lazlow breaking into tears when a caller continuously encourages Lazlow to shave his bush so his dick looks bigger

“Hanging upside down to sleep doesnt make you cool, or alternative. I know because I tried it”

A guy called in saying he moved from Hampshire and Lazlow told him his english was good and asked if it was hard getting used to the language

As of gta III Lazlow is married. As of IV he is divorced, balding, and has a mustache. His wife left him for his best friend after he brought home a heavily drugged woman for a threeway.

He used to look at his best friends dick when he was sleeping.

(About the Brittish)“I think they were speaking English before we were. I mean, the people here were speaking Cherokee and Shoshone.”

Lazlow gets upset when a man implies spanking kids is okay. He gets even more upset when he realizes the man doesn’t have kids and just wants to be spanked

“My father was strangely silent my whole childhood, which y’know, explains a lot”

“So you would MILK your grandmother like some kind of TEAR COW?”

Lazlow pushed a hotdog salesman’s head into a pot of boiled hot dog water and tried to drown him. This was a very cathartic experience for him.

“You stick your hand down a stripper's panties, yknow, and you discover a pair of balls. Well guess what baby? The bitch is back. But im not a bitch, Im a man. Uhh-”

Lazlow was regularly caught kissing men backstage at concerts in the 80s

Lazlow mentions its easier to spike women’s drinks with GHB in Liberty City than Vice City

“Go play sudoku and die peeing on yourself”

“You’re not my type. I prefer unconscious chicks or milfs with stretch marks”

Lazlow has tried blogging, being in porn, vinewood, working glory holes, and taking "facefulls of pills" to be happy.

“dude. Can you really not rub your junk and talk about schools. Dude. dude.”

“And you just wish that ONCE you could share a bed with someone who wouldnt get creeped out by the pictures of my ex wife on the nightstand”

“You can catch an STD! From a Him/Her!”

Lazlow bites strangers when he’s mad

“Im a RAGING heterosexual”

“There’s nothing wrong with that. Y’know, I’ve worn some panties. Its not weird if a chick asks you to do it. Then its hot”

He begs strangers on the street to watch him windmill his dick online.

“This mustache once got me laid. Yeah, Yeah.”

“Isnt there one where theres a cup and two girls…”

He accosts Fred Armisen in the street. Fred is somehow much worse than Lazlow.

“DUR DUR DUR text message. EL OH EL”

“You’ll NEVER get to experience the 80s”

“For once, Lazlow is not getting bummed. I’M doing the bumming”

in Episodes From Liberty City, Lazlow’s mother and step-father pay for his radio show and he lives in their home. He hates his step-dad and new step-sisters

“Im the g-spot of radio”

“I’m here to stay. Like the national debt. or syphilis.”

Lazlow’s brother is a tv producer

Lazlow promised $2 to a man to follow him down the street with a saxophone to set atmosphere for his radio show

“I’ve really gotta spread my scent right now. And by that, I mean pee”

Lazlow’s step-dad is a mortician

Lazlow is pro choice, but only because he doesnt want to be a hypocrite

Lazlow’s sister was supposedly kidnapped. He claims he did not personally murder her.

“Nicaragua. Which is a company that sells nicotine… water”

“Do have a second for gay rights?” “Okay, a second. Sometimes five minutes if I’m drunk and nobody’s looking”

Lazlow makes his intern follow him with a camera and pretend to be paparazzi. It backfires.

Lazlow got hairplugs some time between IV and V

Lazlow invented podcasting

“It’s not molesting if they’re ugly. Trust me, i’ve been doing it for years”

“Molesting is when they’re human and cant complain, or dont like peanut butter on their junk. Those sheep wouldnt have complained if they COULD have. They were loving it!”

Lazlow’s intern tells everyone at the gay bar that Laz wants to get railed by three guys. Lazlow, not understanding spanish, is very excited by the attention.

Lazlow knows space facts off the top of his head

Lazlow Wants to cum in zero G

He has a grandma fetish

Lazlow talks about his experience of getting pissed on by groups of strange men

Lazlow is "Left wing", but only because he doesnt want to be fired

Through tears “I dont understand valleys or clouds, it sounds like a nursery rhyme”

Lazlow told the press Michael "molested (him) into cutting his hair"

Lazlow got roofied at his Sex Addicts Anonymous meeting

Through tears “Tony? Can we hug? Please? You shouted at me a lot… And Tony? I dont think you can say ‘Gay Tony’ anymore, it’s not PC, the internet will go crazy”

Lazlow spins records at kids birthdays

“He wants me to beatbox, i’m gonna fuckin get LAAIIDDD”

“One more scandal will ruin me. I’m WOKE now”