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maira-writes-shit · 3 years

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Salt, saltier, Yahaba and Shirabu

Haikyuu Yahaba Shigeru and Shirabu Kenjirou friendship

Fluff, mild angst, Yahashira childhood friends

Yahaba and Shirabu met when they were 8.Some may ask: How did that happen? Well this is the story:

Both of them had been dragged to a business dinner by their parents...

Shigeru’s parents were business people. That’s just what they were.Everything they did, they did it for business.

They got married for tax benefits and to combine their companies. Sure they did love each other but that wasn’t the main reason they got married.

They got children for image. They used them to seem closer to the „average family“, to try and seem more trust worthy and kind.

So that’s what he was here for.“And this is our son Shigeru.“,his mother said with a fake smile on her thin lips. She was talking to a small woman with copper hair. Something suddenly moved behind her legs and Yahaba tried to get a glance.

The woman took a step back and a boy with the same copper hair as the woman became visible.

He was a little bit shorter than Shigeru, had chocolate brown eyes and a pale complexion.

“Well this is Kenjirou!“, Shigeru’s mother put out her hand, she had to crouch down a little do to her wearing the heels that her son always wonder how she could even walk in, the boy -Kenjirou- took her hand and nodded to her.

The two women walked away chatting with equally fake smiles and cheerful voices, leaving their sons on their own.

The awkward silence between stretched out for multiple minutes until Kenjirou sighed.

“I’m Kenjirou Shirabu...“

“Well I know that.“, Shigeru whispered looking away.

“Hey jerk! I’m trying to talk to you!“ „Well you're not succeeding!“ „You’re talking to me, right?!“

Shigeru opened his mouth but shut it again.

He was right

The taller pouted.

“Why are you like this?“

“I’m trying to not fuck this up for my parents.“ at that Shigeru looked up at Kenjirou.

„What do you mean?“ „We just moved here and my dad says he needs friends under the other higher ups...“...“I’m Shigeru Yahaba. You’re the first other kid I’ve seen here.“

“Really?“ „Yeah. I only come along for the image.“„Well I guess we will probably have to cross paths a few more times so-“, Kenjirou extended a hand with a sly look on his face „-We should probably get along.“

Start

They were 11.

They had ended up on the same middle school.

Easy to say:The teachers both hated and loved them.

Both were smart and talented people and they knew it. And they abused it.

They didn’t pay attention in class and would always make snarky remarks only loud enough for each other to hear because they knew they could keep up.

Fun

They were 12.

“You know...I think I wanna join the volleyball club.“

Kenjirou looked up from his homework a bit startled.

“Huh?“ „I mean every time we play in gym class I just have so much fun and it makes me feel good! You know?“

Do I know? Yes I do know.

“I feel like I have the control yet at the same time I can play in a team!“

“I want to join too!“ „Really?!“ „Yeah! We can play together!“

Friendship

They were 14.

Sweat was dripping down Shigeru’s face.

24:23 for the other team...it seems useless...

The silver haired boy turns his face to his best friend.

I can’t do it. It’s too much.

Those thoughts wash away as soon as he sees him.

He was determined.

That’s what he admired the most about Kenjirou...he didn’t give up.

Shigeru was weak alone. All it took was a B on a test to send him spiraling but Kenjirou was always there.Kenjirou was his setter and Shigeru was his spiker.

They were feared for being able to know exactly what the other was thinking.

They were a threat.

Shigeru couldn’t do it on his own...but he wasn’t on his own.

Kenjirou was there and he was looking at Shigeru with that look of determination that always made him go though with all the shit they thought of.

They won.

Determination

They were 14.

This wasn’t normal.

He shouldn’t feel like this.

But he did.

Chikara Ennoshita.

The brown haired boy had been his and Shigeru’s friend since the start of middle school. He was smart, determined, kind and he was able to handle the combined salt level of both Shigeru and Kenjirou.

He had been his first real friend after Shigeru.

And now here he was...having a crush on him.

That’s all it was though: a crush. Still...he was a guy...This wasn’t right.

“Kenjirou? You ok?“

The copper haired boy jumped a bit at his best friends voice. He looked up and-“Shigeru I think im gay-“

Why did I say that? I never planned on telling anyone! Let alone Shigeru...what will he think of me now-?

“Same.“

“Wait what?“

“Well I’m not completely gay- I do also like girls...so bi? Maybe even pan or something...I don’t know yet.“

„Wait you aren’t surprised?“ „Shirababe...nothing about you staring at Chikas ass is subtle. Turn the horny down child!“ „I AM OLDER THAN YOU!“

“NO YOURE NOT! WELL AT LEAST NOT MENTALLY!“, Shigeru threw a pillow into Kenjirou‘s face.

The shorter got hit right in the face and let out a dramatic gasp while throwing the pillow right back.

“STOP WITH YOUR MENTAL SHIT, ASSHOLE!“

Acceptance

They were almost 16.

“Wait what?“

“I said I’m going to apply for Shiratorizawa.“

“But-we said we would got to Seijoh together!“

“Well there is still the possibility of me failing the exam because we both know I won’t get a sports scholarship.“

“Oh who are you kidding!? You are going to pass that exam with flying colors!“

“Well thank you.“

„KENJIROU YOU PROMISED!“

“I WAS LIKE 13!“

“YOU SAID- You said you won’t leave me alone...“

“Oh boo hoo! Little baby Yahaba can’t take being alone!“

Yahaba? He had never called me that...

“Well that may have to do with the fact that you always need to show me that your better than me in everything, Shirabu!“They stared each other down.

Sure they had had fights over the years but nothing quite like this.

There was so much to lose.

But also so much to gain.

I can’t do it. It’s too much.

Shigeru walked away.

Fear

They were 16.

Kenjirou had made it to Shiratorizawa.

He looked down at his test results with a grain of salt though.

He had passed with flying colors...just like he had said...

They hadn’t talked since their fight. They had graduated without a word to each other and now they were separated.

Shigeru got his test scores back some time ago, he would go to Seijoh after summer break.

Ennoshita would go to a different school as well.

Kenjirou‘s Heart hurt a bit at That thought as well. Not only was Chikara his only other real friend but Kenjirou also still had his stupid crush on him.

Kenjirou Shirabu was sitting in his room alone.

He was alone.

He had forgotten what that felt like.

Ever since that faithful day 8 years ago Shigeru- no Yahaba- had always been there somehow. Kenjirou had always seen him or texted him in some way and even when they were fighting he would always have Chikara to talk to.

But now both of them were gone.

Empty

They were 16.

Everything reminded them that the other wasn’t there.

It hurt.It hurt worse than when Yahaba got rejected by the girl he liked.

It hurt worse than Shirabu being beaten in his favorite subject.

It hurt more than the punches exchanged when they fought over something so seemingly little now that they forgot what it was.

How do you feel after the person you spent half your life with leaves?

Broken

Lost

Alone

They were 16.

„Yaha-Chan we Are playing a practice match today and I want to put you in.“

The dyed brown haired teen turned around a bit startled.

“But Oikawa-san I’m not even that good! I just started really playing this position! I can’t possibly-“ „Trust yourself more Yaha-chan!“

Yeah as if that’s so easy...Kenjirou was my setter and I was his spiker...I honestly just wanted to try this position but-

“I can see you overthinking Yaha-chan!“, Shigeru’s senpai snapped him out of his spiraling thoughts.

„You are a great setter Yahaba. Don’t forget that.“

The younger looked up from the ground.Instead of the usual sing songy voice of Oikawa those words were said with a kind yet very stern voice.

He cracked a little smile.

Change

They were 16.

Winning.

That was what he did all of this for.

Winning.

So this was being part of a real team, huh?

He only stood on the court for a few minutes but here he was...screaming, laughing and hugging his teammates.

The last time I was this happy I was with Shigeru-

The copper haired boy turned around to the other side of the net.

There he was.

Yahaba Shigeru was crouching over a third year crying on the floor.He went around giving everyone water bottles.

He hadn’t played.

He had sat on the bench observing and filling up water bottles.

Anger rose in Kenjirou. How could they not let him play? There was definitely more than one of the third year spikers that was way worse than Shigeru!

Why won’t they let him play?

Or did he choose to not play?

Did they think they could win against Shiratorizawa and then use him as a secret weapon?

What was up with him?

He was slapped on the back by his senpai, their setter Semi Eita.

One eye contact was all Semi need to check up on him...

One eye contact and he could feel himself falling.

He wanted to tell Shigeru.

Longing

They were 16.

Loss.

That was the worst part about this.

Losing.Shigeru was on his bed looking up at the ceiling, like he and Kenjirou used to do when they told story’s till 2am.

His phone pinged.

Bangsie:

“Heh“, Shigeru smiled. He had forgotten to reset the nickname.

What does he want though? Rub his win under my nose? Tell me how much better than me he is again?

He picked up his phone anyways.

Bangsie: Shigeru we need to talk...same place

Same place.

Shigeru knew what he meant by that.

When his older brother was younger their parents had bought him a little treehouse at the outskirts of the woods not far from the Shirabu residents.

They would go there when Shigeru‘s little brother was being noisy, they wanted to get away or they just didn’t feel safe enough at home.

The Fake brunette sighed and put on his shoes.

Fixing

They were 16.

He came.

They sat in silence.

Until The copper haired boy broke the silence: „I’m sorry.“

„I know I made a promise and I knew what it meant to you but-“„No no I get it! Shiratorizawa fits your needs as a person and for your future more...I was being selfish.“

“But you had all right to be! Your brother left you behind and he was the only one there for you, I did the same!“

“Don’t fucking blame yourself for my problems!“

They stared at each other down for a good minute until they broke and they ended up hugging and crying.

The next hours were spent catching up.

Shigeru learned about Kenjirou’s crush on his upperclassman Semi.

Kenjirou learned about a guy named Kyoutani that absolutely drove Shigeru crazy and now even quit.

He also learned that Shigeru had switched to being a setter.

The night ended like many nights in the treehouse ended: with them curled up in blankets falling asleep on each other.

Home

They were 17.

I need to get better. I need to work harder. I can’t stop-

„Yahaba!“

The ball dropped on the other side of the court and he turned around to see his spiky haired senpai Iwaizumi.

“You are overworking yourself, Yahaba...“ „Oh I’m sorry I didn’t-“ „Oh no you know exactly what you’re doing! I already have one of you dumbasses!“, he looked at Oikawa, standing in the door talking to a few fan girls.

“Don’t freak out too much, ok?“, he sounded concerned...

“I’ll try, Iwaizumi-san!“

Shigeru hurried out of the locker room.

He was late to his and Kenjirou’s weekly movie night!

While he was mentally crossing all the things in his bag off a list as to not forget what to bring the boy ran into someone...and crashed to the ground.

“Hey watch were your going!“ the guy he bumped into only gave a little growl as answer.Kyoutani.

Of course it was Kyoutani.

“You’re good...“ came a little murmur from besides him where Kyoutani had apparently set off into the same way as him home.

Shigeru raised an eyebrow.

“You’re a good Player...“ Shigeru shoot around at that.

“Wh-what? You t-think I’m a g-good player?“

“I mean yeah...“Shigeru could feel a flush creep up his cheeks.

Wait what? Im supposed to hate him! He quit the team! But...

Diffrents

They were 17.

“This arm has to be a bit higher.“

Kenjirou was maybe having a so called gay panic.

Semi was too close. He was also correcting his form and touching him in all these places- Kenjirou couldn’t do this.

He threw the ball into the air, jumped and smashed that ball to the ground.

“Not so bad-Not so bad! But there is still some things you need to work on.“

“Well I wanna see you do a jump serve.“, he whispered.“As you wish, Shirabu my highness.“ The older said with a little bow before he got up to serve.

Kenjirou refuses to admit that his heart danced a little cha cha cha when Semi said his name.

The ash blond threw the ball up into the air, the perfect hight, he took two large steps and leaped into the air and finally his hand made contact with he ball and hit the ground with a beautiful thudh.

Kenjirou stood in awe for a few minutes before he excused himself to the bathroom.

Beauty

They were 17.

The ball dropped.

They lost.

Again.

Shiritorizawa won.

Again.

Again

They were 17.

They were sitting in the treehouse again.

„You guys played really well you know...“The copper haired boy looked over at his best friend and found the tear rolling down his face.

Neither one of them have ever been good at putting their feelings into words so all Kenjirou did was hold him.

Hold him while he crys.

Emotions

They were 17.

Karasuno.

Every point was a battle for power.

Yahaba got to play again...

He got to feel the ball in his hands again...

He made points!

He let the ball drop...This was his fault.

He thought he could be better, he thought he could finally face off against Kenjirou but no.

He was still weak.That’s all he was.

Weak

They were 17.

“This will be our first practice match with you as captain Shirabu.“, Kenjirou’s Coach looked at him. „You can do it.“

The new captain smiled and walked behind his team again.

“Hello and welcome at Seijoh!“ a familiar voice said. Kenjirou smiled.

“It’s a pleasure to win agains you.“

“Hahaha win? Yeah sure! We will stomp you to dust, Shirabu.“

“Game on, Yahaba.“

“Well what do we have here?, a singsongy voice said from behind Shigeru.

Oikawa Tooru

To be continued

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#my fanfiction #haikyuu fanfiction #yahashira #yahaba shigeru #shirabu kenjirō

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galaxina-the-pyro · 3 years

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A Cure That Ails You

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" "I'm sure it's not, hon..." "Like, he asks me to all these things NOW?! While I'm trying to get over him?! That oblivious, kerfluffin-!" Schnitzel sighed deeply, rolling her eyes towards a sobbing mess of a seventeen-year-old Isabella. In hindsight, this was all on the former Fireside Girl - Phineas had asked her out to some stupid festival that Danville was setting up. Isabella turned him down. Phineas was disappointed but never once felt upset over Isabella's answer, only telling her that he'll still meet up with her at the festival or whatever with whomever she was gonna go with. She told him that that one kid named...uh...what was it...Everett? No, wait, that was the bastard who broke her heart after her Bat Quincinera Mitzvah party thing. That other boy who started showing signs of having a thing for Isabella was that one kid with that completely fake British accent. Bland and forgettable to Schnitzel, though Isabella fawned over the kid's sense of humor at the very least. Humor was important in a relationship. But if Schnitzel remembered this particular kid, she remembered that he seemed much more...flamboyant for someone Isabella would be pursuing. Not that Phineas didn't have those moments, it was more like this particular kid- "CLINTON!" Schnitzel shouted, "That's his name! Clinton, right?" Isabella whined. "Yes, Clinton," she leaned her head back against her couch, covered in crumbs of cookie dough and chips, "He already asked me before...before he did. I told him I was gonna think about it..." She scooped another clump of cookie dough into her mouth and chewed. Schnitzel examined her jaw bobbing up and down like a well-oiled garbage disposal. "Don't you like that kid?" she asked, "You told your other friends you liked him, anyway. They won't shut up about how..." she trailed off and shook her head, "You flipping lied to them, didn't you?" Isabella threw her hands up into the air, nearly sending her spoon flying into the air in the process. "They wouldn't shut up about it!" she cried out, mouth still full of dough, "The girls kept pushing how I shouldn't give up on him just yet!" she had the sense to swallow before she could choke on a chocolate chip, "That we were meant to be! Love knows no limits! You have to wait for it-UGH! I just-I couldn't take it anymore!" "I get what you're saying, kid," Schnitzel frowned deeply, "But that's not a cool thing to do to a guy like Clinton. He's a cool...well...nice dude, at least. Leading him on is kind of a jerk move on your end." The fat woman could feel the sense of irritation drooling from Isabella's tone as she turned to face her. Isabella sighed. "You really can't tell?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "Clinton's gay. Like, really, really gay." Schnitzel was taken aback, but not by much. "...then," she paused, "Then why is he-?" "He's not out of the closet yet," Isabella shrugged, "I and another one of his friends are the only ones who know. Though honestly, I'm surprised no one's figured it out by now. It's kinda obvious." Schnitzel blinked. "I mean, I figured," she admitted, "But, like...why would he be pretending to-," she facepalmed, "Oh, duh, this is a setup. You're trying to cover up your crush, he's trying to cover up his," she smirked, "Which one of your friends is he pining for?" "Buford," Isabella said, "Totally Buford. He hangs out with him the most. The two like to jerk around with each other." Schnitzel nodded, smiling for a moment before she noticed Isabella slumping back into a depressed pile. The former villainess scowled slightly at the sight, having hoped changing the conversation to that of Clinton's dilemma would snap Isabella away from what happened with her and Phineas. Schnitzel picked up one of the empty cookie dough canisters and lifted it up for examination. "You know," Schnitzel said slowly, "You really don't have to lie to your friends. Just talk to them. Explain that you don't appreciate-." "They wouldn't understand," Isabella insisted, "They only ever backed off when I was with...you know...and now they're kinda backing off now that I'm...interested in Clinton, you know? I...I wanna keep it that way." "It's a dumb move," Schnitzel stated bluntly, "But...I see why you're doing it...at least partly," she turned the cannister, looking for the ingredients - the odor of the dough making her lick her lips, "Your friends mean well. They do. They shouldn't push this stuff, but they definitely care," she looked over at Isabella with a frown, "But maybe you're backing the wrong horse here, too?" Isabella squinted her eyes at the greying woman in her early fifties at best. "What do you mean?" she practically scowled. "I mean that maybe," Schnitzel leaned back slightly, not looking at Isabella, "Maybe they have a point...I'm not saying you should go back to how things used to be," she briefly placed the plastic onto her lap, "It's good to take breaks. Learned that from experience," she turned to the teen carefully, "But...is giving up on the kid entirely really what you want? Or do you think it's what you have to do because you need to start 'growing up' and moving passed those supposedly childish endeavors?" "I can't revolve my entire being to him all the time," Isabella insisted, "I'm more than that!" "Yeah, well," Schnitzel drummed her fingers on the bottom of the plastic canister, "Who said you had to give up on being with Phineas in order to do that?" Schnitzel regretted her choice words, regretted the look of sheer agony that graced Isabella's face from hearing the name of her heart's desire ring in her ears. The floodgates reopened as the strong, fearless leader, Isabella, once again succumbed to a sniveling mess. Schnitzel let out another deep sigh as she returned to examining the cannister. "Why does the world hate me?!" "Heck if I know." "I don't understand why emotions work the way they do! Why can't I just MOVE THE HECK ON?!" "Feel ya, girl. I really do," Schnitzel lit up, "OH! Here it is! Ingredients!" Isabella wailed, "H-he's just so PERFECT, Alice," she insisted, "Why must he make it so hard for me to move on from?! Why does he feel the need to squeeze at my heart?!" The broken sobs that followed were bone-shattering, even for Schnitzel. A wave of guilt washed over onto her, even as her eyes refused to leave to words on the container. "Oh, Isa..." she paused upon looking at the part of the container that specifically said 'do not consumer before baking' in bold letters, wondering why she hadn't noticed that before; she glanced around the empty as well as the partly empty containers on the ground, and barely noticed the large black garbage bag beside Isabella, slowly putting two and two together, "...uh...Isabella, how much cookie dough have you been eating?" Isabella's response was a mere hiccup and a cough, having nearly choked on some more cookie dough. "Why won't Phineas love me?" she sobbed before hugging her current container close to her chest like it was her offspring. Schnitzel swallowed some air and slowly stood up, the container in hand. "Ooooookay, that's enough cookie dough, Is," she looked at the container once more and gaped, "Why...why would you buy cookie dough that uses unpasteurized eggs?" Isabella coughed again. "Why does THAT matter?" she groaned. "Well," Schnitzel walked towards the garbage bag, opened it, and saw a lot of containers and empty chip bags of varying flavors, "Raw cookie dough already gives you a strong likelihood of getting foodborne diseases," Schnitzel failed to notice Isabella's coughing suddenly turning into gagging, "But when you use unpasteurized products, it also gives you the high risk of getting-" Schnitzel cringed as she heard Isabella lurch forward and, for lack of a better word, tossed up her cookies all over her feet. The woman need not turn to look at the poor child, but did so anyway and sighed as Isabella trembled in a bent up position, whimpering. "...salmonella." (~) "Oh, Izzy...oh you poor baby..." Isabella moaned as she leaned against the toilet, feeling Phineas' hands gently rubbing her back. He sighed and shook his head, as if somewhat disappointed in her. It was both painful to see, yet far more comforting than any medicine would do for her right now. "You really should be more careful," he said sternly, "What compelled you to eat all of that anyway?" "I was," Isabella gagged again and clutched the seat, wincing, waiting...but nothing came; she slowly turned back to Phineas and swallowed dryly, "Clinton broke it off with me. I...I didn't take it well." The look on Phineas' face was as heartbroken as it made Isabella feel. She hated to see Phineas look so hurt, even when it was because she was the one in pain. She felt his arms gently wrap around her waist and his chin rest on her head ever slightly. "I'm so sorry," he said, "I know you liked him a lot." "I...yeah," Isabella laughed softly, "I did...I do...but..." her chuckles became shaken, "Phineas, I...I need to..." she fought the need to wretch as the words echoed in her mind like a broken record. "Who said you had to give up on being with Phineas...?" "Isabella?" Isabella could barely turn to look at Phineas like her neck was locked into place. But from the corner of her eyes, she could see the kindness and love that Phineas had on his face. Platonic or not, that love was real - that love was far more than worth fighting for. Worth pursuing even. He proved that by coming over today on such short notice. He proved that by dropping everything just to go see if she was doing okay. He loved her. He loved her so much... "I lied." Phineas blinked, tilting his head. "Lied?" he asked, "About what?" Isabella breathed slowly. "About me and Clinton," she explained, "I made it-made it all up," she sucked up on some air and choked in down, "I'm so, so sorry, I was," the tears poured, "I was just so tired of it all...they had so many expectations for me," she shook her head, "I just couldn't stand it. I wanted to prove I could really stand on my own." "What are you talking about?" Phineas seemed to pull in closer to Isabella, his voice filled with...hope, perhaps? Isabella wasn't entirely sure. But she desperately wanted that to be the case. That would make this so much easier to do. "From the day I met you," Isabella paused, "No, that's silly...for a long time, since we were little," she grimaced, "I felt strong feelings for you...I...loved you...and whether I wanted to or not, I," she almost broke out into a sob, the pain too much for her to handle as her stomach twisted, "I still love you. I still want you. I wish I was," she shook, "I wish I was strong enough to have told you this when-." "Izzy." Isabella flinched at her nickname, her body finally allowing her to turn and look at Phineas, who pulled his arms away from her. He cupped her face. A tender grin formed on the boy's face as he rubbed his thumb across her cheek to wipe away a stray tear. "Izzy," he repeated, "I always-." Before he could finish, Isabella gasped out in agony and turned back to the loo, chundering once more. Phineas immediately went into position, lifting up Isabella's hair, serenely humming as she finished, a worried frown still in place even as he continued to try and soothe her. Once Isabella had finished, she looked over at Phineas, a shaken up smile forming. He opened his mouth to finish his previous statement before the door opened. "I'm back with some water," Schnitzel stated walking in slowly, looking around, "Were you...talking to someone?" Isabella was afraid to look away from Schnitzel. She was afraid to look behind her. She really didn't have to. She already knew the truth, anyway. But that didn't mean it wouldn't hurt her to see the confirmation first hand. And yet her head turned. Like an idiot, she looked, a small, stupid bead of hope shining in her chest. The same one that refused to die like the rest of it. And the fruits of that hope was met with an empty spot where Phineas was once kneeling at. Some hair that he had been caressing slid onto her skin as she sniffed. Schnitzel took another step closer. "Isabella?" The automatic action of any human being with even the smallest shred of decency was to immediately reached down and clutch the poor, sobbing mess close to her. The once ugly tears of over-dramatics had turned into something far more self-destructive. Schnitzel felt this the moment she felt Isabella's tears on her shoulder as she hugged her close. Rather than disappear, the bead of hope in Isabella's chest proceeded to taunt her with small maybe's and what if's before it was briefly drowned away in fragmented sorrow. Who did Isabella think she was kidding? Phineas would never truly feel that way for her, no matter how many times she could've sworn he did.

"Let it out, Izzy," Schnitzel cooed, brushing the girl's black locks between her fingers, "Let it out..."

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life-through-my-eyess · 3 years

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Hello!!! i’m here seek advice, please help :’)

(apologizing in advance for any mistakes, forgive me english isn’t my first language </3)

So i’m a 19 year old girl, I have a wonderful girlfriend and she’s the only person I want to be with for the rest of my life, and our relationship is everything I have ever wished for. 💖

Problem is: I have no idea if i’m bisexual or lesbian… Let me explain! All my life, through out kindergarten, middle school and high school, i’ve only ever had crushes on other girls. And late high school (and now, university) i’ve only ever been in LOVE with a girl! (my GF, let’s call her “L”)

Now, “L“ and I have been together for about 4 years (yay!) and we’re both very happy and satisfied with each other. (emotionally, physically, intimacy, etc!) And it’s worth mentioning that she’s the first person i’ve ever dated, I have not been with any man or woman before in any sort of relationship.

So.. this is all I know, you know? like I’m very happy that my first dating experience (plus: with a woman!!) is a very a satisfying and fulfilling one, however, I do not have any experience with the opposite sex. But the idea of me dating a man, being intimate with one, or being pleasured by a p*nis makes me uncomfortable. I could never imagine myself marrying a man, having kids with a man or having children from a man either. And this isn’t just because i’m happily taken, this has been my thought process ever since I was a little kid, and have been like this WAY before I even knew “L”.

I know exactly what you’re thinking: “you’re obviously a lesbian!” Right? well.. here’s where the issue comes in. People say lesbians cannot be attracted to men. And here’s me, attracted to men, but not in a “i’d fuck that guy” kinda way, but more like when i see a cute/handsome/good looking dude I can acknowledge that, y’know? Like oh look that’s a fine looking man right there, like I appreciate the beauty or whatever, and would not hesitate to look twice at a nice faced fellow. (wether he’s masculine or feminine doesn’t matter either) I am however not interested in getting to know any guy for the purpose of romantic or sexual attraction. (I’ve been like this as long as I can remember)

This is a bit embarrassing to admit, but I have actually had a “crush” on a male, ONCE! And guess what, he is not real LOL, he’s a fictional anime boy and was the first dude i’ve ever “wanted to be with”, I was 11 years old. And what’s even more embarrassing is that i used to read “character x reader” fanfiction, because that’s how much I “loved him”… yikes! Anyways I got over him after like a year, and now he’s just my favorite character, but yeah…

So, my simple question is: am I a lesbian or a bisexual?

Hey, bud let me tell you. Your English is freaking dope, well done 👏. Should be proud of yourself 🥰.

Honestly that’s so sweet, that’s really cute and adorable.

The thing is, you don’t need to label yourself or rush into anything. Take your time and take it easy, don’t rush into labels or feel like you need to because you don’t. You see, lesbians can find men attractive and find them handsome. For sure I see men and I’m like oOOooOo he’s good looking and handsome and everyone’s like, “aren’t you gay”, like bruh doesn’t mean I can’t find a man handsome. Im gay not blind?. Anyways, it’s normal and it doesn’t mean your bisexual. I find them handsome but not in an objectifying way like I want to do shit with them. I don’t objectify women let alone men.

I hope this has helped I didn’t want to make my response so long because I can talk for the whole of England 😅😂. But honestly, this doesn’t mean your Bi and being gay doesn’t mean you can’t be attracted to the opposite sex. It’s your world and don’t allow anyone to tel you how to run it especially not society.

I hope you had a lovely day and thank you for asking and stumbling across my blog. Best of luck with your girlfriend, hold her close as it is so hard to find anyone decent. Take it easy, you got this 💕👏

#anonymous #advice #my ask #tell me about your crush #send asks #girl who loves girls #uk lesbian #gay blog #gwlg

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shotgun--rider · 4 years

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Fake It Till You Make It - One

A Sam x Reader Series

PART ONE

Y/N knows it’s a bad idea to try telling her family that she’s dating Sam Winchester. But it’s just for the week of her sister’s wedding, and it’s all fake anyway. What could go wrong?

Word Count: 3600

Warnings: plus size! Reader, background Destiel for a hot sec, fatphobic comments, Y/N’s family are demons

A/N: Has this trope probably been done five million times? Yes. Am I about to do it again? Yes.

Your cellphone rang and you grimaced, rolling your eyes as you took in Dean’s all-too-amused expression. Your best friend may have thought your situation was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, but that didn’t mean you were of the same opinion.

“What?” you snapped out, not bothering to read the caller ID. Who else would be calling you for the fifth time in as many hours?

“Well that’s not a very nice way to greet your mother.”

Here you went again, the same thing over and over. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “What do you want now, Mom?”

Bent over something under Baby’s hood, Dean snorted, shamelessly listening to your half of the conversation. He could probably hear your mother too, you thought wryly. The woman was certainly loud enough.

“Well, listen, honey,” your mother began. “I was just talking to Jimmy...you remember Jimmy? From down the street, you used to--”

“Yes, Mom, I remember Jimmy.” you said tiredly. “Why do we care about Jimmy?” Please don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

“For the wedding! I just asked, and Jimmy agreed to come with you.”

You let out an alarmed noise before you could stop yourself. “Mom, no.” you said firmly, with an undercurrent of panic at the thought of being trailed around by awkward Jimmy for a week. “I know it’s hard to imagine,” you drawled sarcastically, “but the vows will still be successful if I’m there without a plus one. Not like I’m the one getting married, you know.”

Still focused on the Impala, Dean’s shoulders were shaking with suppressed laughter. You seized the apple core you’d been munching on earlier and chucked it at him, feeling marginally better when it bounced off of his back.

“Y/N L/N! You should be a little more grateful. Besides, have you even thought about how it’s going to look to Dick if you show up alone?”

“I don’t care,” you said automatically. “He’s a dick, pun absolutely intended.”

“He’s marrying your sister.”

“At least it’s not me.”

“That miserable attitude is exactly why you’re going to die alone, young lady,” your mother snipped. “You could at least make an effort. Maybe if you just lost some weight--”

“Yeah, okay Mom.” You hung up the phone before she could get another word in, immediately flopping back onto Dean’s front lawn in defeat. “If I ever get married, it’s going to be in Vegas with Elvis, and nobody is going to know about it.” Not that you would. Given your complete inability to keep a boyfriend for longer than two months and your habit of getting hung up on guys who were completely out of your league, marriage, or a relationship of any kind didn’t seem to be in the cards.

“Who’s Jimmy?” Dean’s green eyes were sparkling with mischief, and you let out a groan, smoothing out the skirt of your sundress as you sat back up to answer him.

“Straight-laced, awkward, kind of greasy. Went to high school with me.” You wrinkled your nose. “My mother is really scraping the bottom of the barrel. She’d throw a fit if I actually tried to bring him home. But apparently Jimmy is a better temporary solution than being single while my sister marries my ex.” You trailed off into silence, your hand pulling absently at a few strands of grass in your best friend’s front lawn. “Maybe I should just rent a boyfriend to shut her up. That’s a thing, right? Like a non-sexual escort.”

“If you’re going to the trouble, you should also get the sex,” Dean returned, still smirking at you as he wiped grease off his hands. “Or you could take me. I would make the best fake boyfriend. And I’m free if you feed me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing at the mental image. “My mom knows you have a boyfriend,” you sighed. “Which, believe me, is a great source of sadness to her every single day.”

Dean laughed loudly, both of you glancing toward the house as the screen door swung open. “Maybe we broke up,”

“Well, she still doesn’t understand the concept of bisexuality, so as far as she’s concerned, you’d still be gay.” You rolled your eyes, long since over your mother’s narrow-minded opinions.

“Who’s gay?” Castiel inquired vaguely, making his way over to the flowerbeds.

“Dean is,” you pointed out helpfully, prompting a wide-eyed stare from Cas.

“Really? Dean, you should have told me!”

When you’d first met Dean’s new boyfriend, he’d been stiff and absolutely useless at sarcasm. It was always nice to see yours and Dean’s combined efforts working.

“D’you want me to ask Sammy?”

You were still laughing at Cas’s antics, and snapped your head back to Dean so fast that you were positive something popped in your neck. “W-what?”

“I can ask Sam if he’s free that week,” Dean repeated, looking at you like he thought you were stupid. “If you want,”

You blinked, irrational panic running through you at the thought of Dean’s younger, perfect, brother.

“It’ll shut your mom up,” Dean went on, oblivious. “Sammy wouldn’t mind.”

“Dean, I barely ever see Sam,” you protested after an awkward pause. A fact that was quite devastating, actually, not that you’d ever admit to your hopeless crush on the younger Winchester.

Your best friend and his boyfriend shared a look. “That’s because he’s a hopeless do-gooder on top of being a hotshot lawyer,” Dean said fondly. “But I bet we could talk him out of taking a bunch of free cases for a week,”

Walking into your sister’s wedding with Sam Winchester on your arm sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. On the other hand, it would shut your mother up. She’d been vocal in her fears of you dying alone since you’d been barely out of college, sending you links to weight-loss workout videos and advertising her fixer-upper daughter to single men in the grocery store for years. Sam’s presence might even serve to stave off comments about your weight, which seemed to be the family’s second-favorite discussion topic any time they were together.

Still, that meant pretending Sam Winchester was your boyfriend for a week, which just seemed like some masochistic form of self inflicted torture. Besides, if even you knew Sam would never go for a girl like you, how in the world were you supposed to sell it to your nosy, skeptical family?

“I was mostly kidding about the whole fake boyfriend thing, Dean,” you said wearily, not wanting to devote any more thought to the idea.

Dean shrugged easily, sharing one more pointed look with Cas before refocusing on you. “Fair enough. You’re still staying for dinner, though, right?”

You’d have to be crazy to turn down one of Dean’s steaks. “Obviously.”

“Great,” he returned brightly. “I think Charlie’s coming.”

You were going to kill Dean. And Cas too, potentially, though it was entirely possible that he’d genuinely just been too preoccupied with his backyard beehive to remember the full extent of his boyfriend’s dinner plans. Because, apparently, “Charlie’s coming” actually meant, “Charlie and also Sam are coming.”

It only took about five minutes for Dean to bring up your mother’s nonsense, prompting you to consider just face planting into the mashed potatoes in embarrassment while Charlie burst out laughing. She thought the whole thing was unbelievably hilarious, and had immediately offered herself up as a fake date. The offer was well meant, you knew, but you were only trying to get your mother to shut up, not disown you for bringing home a girlfriend.

“I don’t need a date,” you finally huffed out, irritated with the whole thing. “I’m perfectly capable of showing up by myself. It’s not like anyone’s going to have anything to say about it that I haven’t already heard.” It was true. Your mother, and you sister and all of your aunts and uncles, for that matter, had been making the same jabs at your weight and relationship status for the past decade. You were used to it by now.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to hear it,” Charlie shrugged. “If we’re too gay for your mother, get somebody else.”

“I tried to tell her Sammy would do it,” Dean put in unhelpfully, elbowing his brother, who had been silent up until this point. You contemplated kicking him under the table.

“Poor Sam does not need to be subjected to my family for no good reason,” you said firmly, hoping that would be the end of it.

Sam was studying you across the table. “Or you could just ask me,” he said finally, and you felt your face heat up as you realized you’d basically been speaking for him.

“Yes!” Charlie burst out before you could come up with a reply. “Sam doesn’t mind, do you, Sam?”

Too late, you realized Charlie was the real villain in all of this. Your old roommate, after all, was the one who knew about your little crush. You wondered if it was worth running the risk of trying to kick her under the table without hitting Cas, who thus far had remained off of your hit list.

Sam cleared his throat roughly, looking between you, Charlie, and his plate. “No, I don’t--I mean, I don’t think Y/N really--”

“No, I do,” you blurted out, scrunching up your face immediately after the words left your lips. I do? I do? Since when? And what was it about Sam fucking Winchester that always made you act like a complete idiot?

Dean was smirking at you across the table, and you idly wondered what would happen if you tried egging Baby.

“Oh,” Sam brought you back out of your thoughts, looking hesitantly pleased. “Well, I just wrapped my latest case up, so I don’t mind coming up with you for that week. If you want.”

“Are you sure?” you bit your lip. There were a lot of emotions vying for your attention, but the dominating one was concern for Sam’s wellbeing. He had no idea what he was trying to agree to.

Sam sighed, staring you down with those hazel eyes. “Y/N, you’re basically family. Of course I’m sure. You just worry about the maid of honor stuff, and I’ll watch your back. Okay?”

This was a significantly softer ending to dinner than you’d expected, but you couldn’t deny the warm feeling that rushed up inside you at his words. I’ll watch your back. Pretty much no one in your life had ever done anything of the sort, until you met Charlie, and, through her, the Winchesters. You’d known Dean for months before you finally met Sam, and of course he was perfect.

It was easy with Dean, since he’d been the big brother you’d never had from day one. Sure, he wasn’t bad looking (seriously those boys won some kind of genetic lottery, you swore) but it just wasn’t like that. And then Sam had shown up and he was six and a half feet of walking perfection.

And now he was smiling reassuringly at you across the dinner table, having just agreed to pose as your completely fake boyfriend in front of your god awful family. Well, at least you’d be able to pinpoint the exact moment your life went completely sideways, if you ever had to look back.

Two anxiety-filled weeks later found you in Sam’s car, because subjecting his long legs to your tiny vehicle for a seven hour drive just seemed like cruel and unusual punishment. You were driving at his insistence, and Sam was in the passenger seat with a legal pad on his legs like he thought he was going to take notes.

“Sam,” you whined out, “is this really necessary? Can’t we just... you know, lie?” Since the whole thing is a big fat giant lie anyway.

Sam raised an eyebrow at you, and it just wasn’t fair how sexy that made him look. “Y/N, you’re the one that kept trying to warn me about getting cross examined by your mother,”

“Such a lawyer,” you huffed. “Okay, fine, you’re right. Let’s write our fake love story,” You batted your eyelashes at him exaggeratedly, punching a surprised laugh out of Sam. He watched your antics in amusement for a moment, and then refocused, absently playing with a pen in his long fingers.

“Okay, how did we meet?”

You cocked your head to one side. “My mom knows who you are,” you explained. “Vaguely, but she knows you’re Dean’s brother. We can just tell them how we actually met and stuff,”

Sam smirked at you. “You tell your mother about me?”

You made a face at him, smacking his arm as the heat of embarrassment suffused your entire body. “Just in passing, don’t go getting a big head. Well,” you made a show of studying him, “a bigger head,”

He looked affronted, running a hand briefly through his hair. “Okay, fine, we met because of Dean. Where did I take you on our first date?”

“Why did you have to take me out? What if I took you out?” You were mostly arguing for the sake of arguing, trying to keep yourself from thinking too hard as you imagined a fake life with Sam that had never happened and never would. He thought of you as family, he’d said as much, and you had to remember that.

“Because I had been waiting forever to ask you out, and I had all the good date ideas saved up,” Sam answered immediately.

“O-okay,” you said hesitantly, jarred by the conviction in his statement. But that was the point, wasn’t it? You were trying to sell it, and Sam was obviously a good actor. And unfairly attractive. And kind. And...and oh god. Your fingers gripped the steering wheel harder as you thought about the unexpected trial he hadn’t signed up for. “Sam, can you golf?”

He shrugged. “I know how it’s supposed to work. I’m just...not that good at actually getting the balls in the holes.”

If Dean were here, he would have taken that opportunity to make a lewd joke. As it was, you just winced. “My dad is going to force you to go golfing,” you explained tiredly. “I should have thought of that, I’m sorry, I--”

“It’s no big deal, Y/N,” Sam assured you easily. “I don’t mind. Besides, I want to meet your dad,”

You blinked at him, almost missing a turn in the process. “You actually want to meet my family? Sam, they’re terrible. Well, my dad’s probably the least awful of the bunch. Mostly he just hides. But Ruby will definitely try hitting on you, even though she’s supposed to be getting married, and Dick will try hitting on everything with legs, which is just gross, and Gramma Lilith is gonna give you the speech about how you could do so much better, and my Uncle Az is going to start Googling you and making weird threats, probably…” you trailed off in a huff. “It could be worse, I guess. At least if Uncle Fergus shows up everybody’ll start yelling at him instead. One can hope. He’s pretty harmless,” you shrugged, “if sometimes high. And my mother will probably just stick to the usual fat girl comments, so…”

Sam’s quiet laughter at your descriptions trailed off. “Y/N, you know there’s nothing wrong with you, right?”

You just shrugged again, deflecting. “Oh, come on, Sam, you don’t have to pretend like you think I’m a size two or something,”

“I’m...not,” Sam sounded genuinely confused, and you risked a glance over at him in the passenger seat. Oddly enough, he didn’t look like he was lying. Huh. “I think you’re beautiful.”

You didn’t want to have to pretend not to be affected by that, and this was maybe the first time in your life you’d actually been grateful to see the turnoff for your family’s old estate. “Here we go,” you narrated a little shakily. “It’s a big house,” you warned, still smiling a little at the way Sam’s eyes widened.

It had been a given that the wedding would take place at your Aunt Abaddon’s old estate house, which no one was quite sure how she’d acquired and which no one questioned. The only fun of the house was watching people’s reactions on the rare occasion that you brought someone here.

“I’ll get the bags,” Sam said vacantly, still staring at the house, and you chuckled softly, getting out of the car in a rush. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt important that you got to your family before Sam did, to put yourself between them, though at this point you weren’t quite sure who was being shielded from whom.

You smoothed down the little sundress you’d decided to wear, grabbing your small duffel out of the backseat and hastily going up the front walk, Sam still rummaging in the trunk.

“Y/N!” Ruby opened the front door to meet you, her smile already insincere and condescending. “You’re late. We thought you weren’t coming.” She glanced behind you briefly, then smirked. “And you’re alone. I mean I figured you wouldn’t actually find a plus one, but you know you’re gonna owe me for the meal--”

“Got everything?”

Oh thank god for Sam Winchester. You smiled tightly at your older sister, glancing briefly at your shoulder to reassure yourself that Sam was there. He was, holding a bag in each hand and a pleasant smile on his face. It was totally his false courtroom smile, but Ruby didn’t have to know that. “Ruby, this is...my boyfriend. Sam.”

Ruby blinked long eyelashes at him, processing. You figured she was torn between insulting you and flirting with him, and, as expected, the flirting won out. “Hi, Sam,” she purred. “I can’t wait to get to know you a little better,”

“Right,” Sam said flatly. “Well, I can’t wait to put these bags down, so…”

Something in Ruby’s expression soured as she looked at him, and her hand fell away from the doorframe as she stepped back, letting you both into the house. You lost no time in ducking past her, Sam right behind you.

“There’s rooms on the second floor,” Ruby said quietly, then, “I’m up there too, just in case you get bored...”

“Great,” Sam returned, and he shifted both of the bags into one hand to put a hand on your back as you walked toward the staircase. You shivered at the touch, exhaling the frustration that was already tensing your shoulders, and started up the stairs. God, it hadn’t even been five minutes. How were you supposed to get through a whole week of this?

Sam’s warm breath on your ear startled you, and he whispered, “So, third floor?”

You turned to catch him with a mischievous spark in his hazel eyes, and nodded quickly, a little smile pulling up the corners of your mouth as you started toward the second staircase with a new energy in your step.

“Hurry your fat ass, Y/N!” you heard Ruby shriek from somewhere below. “Everyone’s already out in the garden,”

You blew out your breath, hastily swinging open the first door you saw. The room was mercifully unoccupied, with a queen bed in the middle of the room and not much in the way of decoration. Your Aunt Abaddon had always been pretty minimalist.

Sam shut the door behind you both, setting the bags down in a line at the foot of the bed.

“I can sleep on the floor,” you said quickly, figuring that it was best to get that out of the way as quickly as possible. “I’m the one that got you into this, so--”

He turned to face you with a quizzical expression. “Why would you...Y/N, you didn’t get me into anything. I said I wanted to be here. If you’re not comfortable, I’ll sleep on the floor,”

“No,” you sighed out, defeated. “Ruby’ll probably try barging in here anyway. I don’t think she believes you’re dating someone like me. We’re adults,” you went on with more confidence than you felt, “we can share,”

Sam’s brow furrowed adorably. Stop that. “Someone like you?” He moved to stand in front of you, one hand sliding very gently along your upper arm. “She doesn’t think I’d go for someone that’s funny and clever and really pretty?”

Something in your chest eased at his words, and, before your malfunctioning brain could stop you, you leaned forward to rest your forehead against his solid chest. “Thanks. She’s a bitch,” you mumbled into his shirt.

Sam’s hand migrated to gently rub over your back. “I’m beginning to get that impression,”

You stood there for a few more moments, letting yourself breathe within the safety of Sam’s arms, and then you straightened up and shook yourself. “Alright, boyfriend, ready to go meet the rest of the firing squad?”

He smiled down at you. “Whatever you say, honey bunch.”

You grimaced, but it got a laugh out of you, which you supposed had been his goal. “Absolutely not.”

“Cutie pie? Boo bear?”

“Stop it,” you threw a mock glare over your shoulder, opening the bedroom door.

“Okay, darlin’,” Sam murmured, and somehow that one sat better than all the rest. “I’ve got your back, remember?”

You smiled back at him, letting him slide his hand in yours for the show, and you braced yourself to head back downstairs and deal with the full force of your family.

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #x reader #reader insert #spn #series

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 3 years

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Les Huguenots (Grand Théâtre de Genève, 2020): Reactions, Part I

Given that my current Act of Hubris Involving Video Editing is putting English subtitles on this production, I guess now is a good of a time as ever to finally officially liveblog it.

@monotonous-minutia you have seen this and @sweatershowgirl and @tatyana-dreaming you have not but all three of you are interested in this Act of Hubris, so...here you go! (there are spoilers in this liveblog)

Night of the Living Dead

well now they’re just Dead (except for a couple of principals. also spoiler alert these people keep coming back occasionally. don’t ask me. I was not one of the codirectors so idk)

“this production is sponsored by Adidas”

that one dude in the back obviously did not get the color memo

that or the costume department ran out of white/off-white shirts

JOHN!!!!!!! *heart eyes forever*

FANTASTIC chair setup

Nevers and Raoul are such a BROTP

spotlight’s on you buddy

also this viola d’amore solo is SO PRETTY

how is it that John Osborn is able to turn anything his voice touches into gold

also, UNBELIEVABLY PRECIOUS CHILD

It is a lovely morning in Touraine and you are a Bass Emerging From The Bog (not actually but...yeah) About To Crash A Party

“no, I already told you I needed twenty stuffed-crust pizzas from Medici’s for the Renaissance Faire!”

(I’m only half-kidding, as this is apparently supposed to be Catherine de Medici. yes, this production is weird. yes, it somehow works in the end. also it’s the most musically complete one on film)

you’re going to regret giving Marcel the megaphone

see? Marcel is just Ultimate Chaotic Energy

anyway this aria BOPS and Michele Pertusi is (as always) amazing

the valet (at right): “I do not get paid enough to deal with this shit”

RWS is so pretty *heart eyes*

@rayatii work your meme magic on this I know you can

also I guess this is supposed to be a farewell kiss or something?

also also I love how all the chorus people just start clapping

also also also I am the newspaper dude that is Such A Mood

Raoul please stop jumping to conclusions so quickly (although I will acknowledge that the kiss doesn’t really stem from canon)

tfw your fiancée breaks up with you the day before your wedding

Alexandre Duhamel is me jamming out to this chorus

*dies of Adorable Mezzo*

also: I don’t care that (according to behind-the-scenes video) Urbain is technically played as a woman in this production; I will proudly continue to say that this Urbain is wonderfully genderfluid because that was the Vibe I got

SASS HIM

ABSOLUTELY GLORIOUS

tfw you’re asked to go blindfolded to a Secret Rendezvous

he’s so freaking adorable I can’t

their energy

when you’re the new royal protégé but have no idea

magic movie makeover

off into the Great Unknown (better known as Act II)

we love the Old Hollywood Vibe

CAN I HAVE THIS OUTFIT IMMEDIATELY PLEASE AND THANK YOU

we stan both onstage instrumentalists and dancing sopranos

there’s just something about her and her voice that makes her one of my top 3 people I’ve ever seen or heard in this role

(her name is Ana Durlovski; the 2 others are singers you’ve likely heard of-- Lisette Oropesa and Joan Sutherland, with Erin Morley and Marlis Petersen not far behind)

I aspire to have her confidence and flair

everyone is Bopping feat. Costume Porn

also: sometimes the ideal Friend Group/Professional Network is a bunch of strong, confident, talented women, a strong, confident, talented, genderfluid director’s assistant, and one (1) Kindly Elderly Gay flutist (not pictured)

Léa Desandre and Anyone brings out wonderful energy

Urbain: “ma’am you are great at what you do but we are on a schedule and that schedule does not include you coloratura-ing”

we have no choice but to stan a QUEEN

Urbain: “really? the PUMPKIN PANTS?”

VALENTINE!!!!!!!!! *heart eyes forever for my favorite character in this opera*

stop being so perfect please I am begging you

Marguérite just checking in to make sure Valentine is okay is like *heart eyes forever for my SISTP. also I kinda ship them*

picture-perfect

WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT BEING SO PERFECT

“now we are going to call your douchebag of a father whom I have to act like I don’t despise so I can persuade him by hook or by crook to let you marry your dream guy”

aka Girls Supporting Girls

this aria should be done every time and LÉA YOU ARE KILLING ME HERE

ooh... (the ladies are INVESTED)

I would like to thank the directors for making this happen

poor Valentine :(

Protect The Clueless Baby

Blinded By Spotlight, Round 2

iconic duo

twice the cadenza, twice the awesome

Raoul: I gotta admit that I’m a bit horny

Marguérite: okay maybe I am a little too BUT I am a good best friend so I’m not gonna do anything with you

Directors: *decide to end this duet with them making out*

Me: >:(

(John Osborn and Ana Durlovski though? LOVE THEM together)

Marguérite: oh shit I am officially regretting the last thirty seconds

also, tfw you walk in on your boss/crush/girl you just kissed making out with someone else you’ve barely met #awkward

CHILD

Urbain: well, you’re a person who...exists

“are you gonna get that?”

“no, are you?”

aka, the Nevers and Urbain Beef continues

someone’s on the phone please be quiet

also, something that happened a bit later but I couldn’t get into a screencap: Nevers has a very firm handshake while Saint-Bris has one like a limp fish

“yes we are all swearing eternal peace yes we are all friends no this will not implode within the next five minutes :)”

this moment is just SO CUTE

Raoul/Nevers BROTP (spoiler: that does not last long)

“here she comes...MISS AMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERICA”

RAOUL NO DON’T PUBLICLY HUMILIATE HER

the SLAP

this ensemble SLAPS

meanwhile, Marcel is just vibing and living his best life

Urbain: okay NO I NEED TO DO DAMAGE CONTROL HERE BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS FUCKED UP AND IF SOMEONE’S GONNA FIX IT IT’S ME

Marcel: but I wanna make Chaotic Energyyyyyyyyyyyy

“well that went well” said no one ever

#opera #opera tag #Act of Hubris Involving Video Editing #Les Huguenots #opera liveblog #Meyerbeer #Giacomo Meyerbeer #*Albert Finney voice* LET'S!!! GO TO!!! THE MOOOOOOOVIIIIIIIIIIIIIES!!!

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goldenpinof · 5 years

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so basically here’s a script of “Basically I’m gay” by Daniel Howell, if someone needs it

link to a google doc

Hello Internet.

«Sex! Secrecy! And a whole lot of internal screaming. Starring Daniel Howell. One of the greatest mysteries of our generation. What is Dan’s sexuality?»

Spoiler alert. I’m not straight. Sex, the foundation of life and the only thing we’re really supposed to do. Everyone’s obsessed with it. You bunch of degenerates. In the list of things that identify a person, one of the most important for other people to know is their sexuality. For, if sex is the primal force propelling all of these humans forward by their hips, they have to know. Are we gonna fuck? Or like could we? Or are you, ‘cause I’m just wondering. Now, we live in a heteronormative world, which is a long scary word that makes people feel attacked for some reason. Shh it’s okay.

What it means is people are presumed to be straight. If you’re not, then at some point, you have to “come out”, which is a whole thing. Or people might just try and guess based on something you do or the way you act, because yay stereotypes. So this is something you have to be clear on, because if you’re not, how are all these other people that aren’t you going to cope? But I’m pretty sure no one that knows me thinks I’m straight. So I don’t really need to come out as much as just clarify what the hell is going on. As here I am at age 27 and my sexual preference is seemingly still a vague, debatable, confusing, impenetrable mystery. But why? And what is it? Well, those are some big questions. Are you sure you wanna know my answers?

[YES]

Okay, well, if you say so 'cause this is a complicated and sensitive issue and when it comes to me, boy, there is a lot to unpack here and it is a total clusterfuck. So strap yourselves in and let me tell you a queer little story about a boy named Dan.

Chapter 1 – The Word

♪ When I was a young boy ♪

♪ My father ♪

Didn’t have much time for me because my conception was clearly an accident and he was a narcissistic proud man suddenly inconvenienced in the prime of his life and this emotional neglect gave me lasting problems.

Sorry that’s not all relevant right now.

I was an only child for seven years and with working parents. This meant I had to make my own fun so I was imaginative and loud which is something that my teachers used to say quite a lot followed by, “However.” Here I am age five. Look at me. Cute, poised, sassy, turning out this photo shoot like sorry, Grandma, I stunted on this set. Are you seeing this? In almost every way, I literally peaked age five. I loved being the center of attention. People said I had an infectious happiness, that my beaming smile brought them hope and joy. People that know me are laughing right now. But a boy, in the '90s being happy and generally polite acting? Sounds kinda GAY if you ask me. Literally, masculinity was so fragile, people were so proud and scared and society so aggressive that a boy smiling!?.. appearing to be empathetic or in any way emoting was seen as a threat. How dare they laugh and feel comfortable? They must be soft and weak and girly and GAY. So basically thanks, Grandma, for raising me to be a nice child, you dick. Just kidding. That’s a joke and I told you not to watch this video because it would be rude so if you send me a disappointed text telling me you’re offended, I don’t know what to tell you. Although, now I think about it, you did make me go to church for 10 years, which in hindsight probably also didn’t help ♪ Hallelujah ♪ the issue here so. But then it was time for little Dan to go to school and this is when it

♪ All went wrong ♪

'Cause it turns out most children, evil pieces of shit. Doesn’t matter if you try to raise a happy innocent child, throw that kid into school, aka, a literal Mad Max Battle Royale with the feral offspring of your local community. Yeah, that crap’ll be undone in about two weeks. I was six years old running around the playground pretending to be Sonic the Hedgehog or something when two brothers come up to me aged seven and eight with an unexplained aggressive look in their eye. And the younger one pushes me to the ground, kicks me in the stomach, and just says, “GAY.”

This was the first time I ever heard that word. Well, I don’t know what the heck gay means but apparently it means people kick you on the floor so that ain’t good. I didn’t know this child or give them any cause to have an opinion on me. And, actually, I never directly interacted with them again. What epic clustershit of failed parenting and general culture brought this tiny child to get angry and attack someone, then call them gay for looking like they were having fun outside. Are you okay, 1990s? And so my relationship with sexuality began.

I wasn’t looking to define myself as a child indiscriminately playing doctors and nurses with various friends until once somebody’s mum walked into a room to find three fully naked children sat on a bed sticking sellotape to each other’s butts. Yep, which I don’t recommend. Also, Jesus Christ, the poor woman that saw that. Then you get to the magic age around 10 or 11 where everybody suddenly wants to pretend they’re totally a “cool teenager” who’s doing all the drugs and the sex and the fights, totally. Boy, gay was a really popular word back then.

[[Boy] Uh, homework is gay. [Girl] Uh, my mum’s so gay. [Boy] Uh, you touched a girl, gay.]

This one little shit who I won’t name was one of the school bullies and he loved the word gay. He had it in for me and I have no idea why. You know me, Mr. Winnie the Pooh Meets Slender Man. Well, when I was 10 just Winnie the Pooh. I didn’t do nothin’ to no one ever and yet this guy used my pacifism as a punching bag where any group situation was an excuse to single me out call me gay for some reason and then make everyone else exclude me because they were scared of him. I had a girlfriend. We dated for six whole weeks. We kissed in a game of spin the bottle once by literally sucking on each other’s faces. Then she ended dumping me over speakerphone at a birthday party that everyone in my class but me was invited to but, hey. I don’t know what I was doing wrong, but at this age, I understood one thing. Being gay, whatever that meant, was clearly the worst thing you could be. On a Darwinian level, I was being told, okay bitch, “Survival Code”. Don’t be this apparently. Evolution. Plot twist, this bully I think he was a bit gay because once he asked me to have a sleepover at his house and I thought was me finally getting socially accepted only for him in the middle of the night to come up and ask me, “So who’s going to be the boy and the girl?” I was an innocent smol bean who didn’t really understand what he meant because, to be honest, I didn’t actually understand get how babies were made yet. But needless to say I think he was disappointed. Wow, closeted child turns into homophobic bully. Thanks again society. But this whole primary school journey was really just an amuse-bouche for the full six-course tasting menu of suffering that would be secondary school.

I went to an all-boys school. It was a literal hellscape. I thought it was hard making it through a school of 200 kids with two or three bullies. Try over a thousand where a clean 800 are fully psychopathic gorillas fueled by testosterone, Red Bull, and Eminem albums. Making sure that the word f- no longer means an innocent bundle of sticks or a cigarette anymore in the British lexicon. Nope, now it was a cool homophobic slur along with gay, gaylord, gayboy, puff, pufter, ponce, batty, batty boy, bum-boy, bender. Shit, this is so long. People have a lot of words for something they don’t wanna think about. Look at me in this stupid blazer. Oh, “you’ll grow into it at some point in the next four years”. Thanks, Mum. Day one, kid in form class, some stupid hedgehog-looking motherfucker side eyes me and says, “What you lookin at, puff?” First interaction at a new school. Great! My entire existence on a daily basis then becomes navigating this school like I’m in the bloody “Maze Runner” trying to avoid aggressive pricks with chode ties. And you know being verbally abused for being a nerd or a Greebo at least felt relevant to me at the time. Greebo, definitely one of my faves there and I’m sure that Korn and Slipknot would have been proud to have 12-year-old me as a fan. I kinda knew who I was in the hierarchy at that point. I was essentially a theater kid who spent all of his free time playing Runescape on the AOL browser on his mum’s PC instead of football. I accepted it. But at least I wasn’t actually this “gay thing” people kept throwing around because by now I understood a gay is a boy who fancies other boys. And to be honest I don’t really feel like I’ve ever fancied anyone before.

Then puberty happened.

Oh yeah, this is fun, tingly feelings, I smell bad. It was quite fun dribbling on this girl’s face playing Truth or Dare, maybe later we’ll go behind that bike sheds and, there I was sat in English class, my friend next to me. I watched as he delicately removes a pencil from its case. We briefly make eye contact as he flutters his long black eyelashes with a blink before staring forward. His eyes are so bright and beautiful yet they seem so sad and deep with emotion. I wish I could just understand. Oh fuck, I think I’m a bit gay. You’re telling me this whole time I actually have been the bad thing that people keep calling me? Shit!

Chapter 2 – Feelings

Oh do you hear it that faint hum, something coming from a deep, dark place too powerful to control? It’s the self-hatred. She is here and she’s only getting started. Short version, I fall hopelessly in love with a friend of mine who doesn’t feel the same way which crushes me into a million tiny pieces and years later actually it turns out he was gay the whole time. He just really specifically didn’t like me. [Double kill.] Here I am, 13, crying to evanescence alone in my bedroom feeling like there’s no point in really being alive as I’m clearly a faulty outcast person that has no place in the world. I stopped going to church with my grandma because I felt like I wasn’t really supposed to be there. Also, by this age, the whole Christianity thing didn’t really make much sense to me. And the adult services were dry AF compared to coloring in a picture of Jesus’s face at Sunday school. So other than the free tea and biscuits they gave away after the sermon, religion didn’t really have much to offer me. Damn, there was some good biscuits though. I miss that. But wait! All is not lost yet. Do you see that? A triumphant, rallying cry of guitars, stripey hoodies, and black hair dye. Emo had arrived! I swear to God, emo is one of the best things that happened to pop culture in the last 20 years. As well as inventing eyeliner and skinny jeans, a new word hit the theater, nerd, goth, band, kid corner that would change my world forever.

Bisexual. You can be normal and gay at the same time and some people think it’s cool? Well, slap a long fingerless glove on my arm and sign me up to Myspace 'cause Mum, I’m bi. It was a good term 'cause it was a catchall for anyone who felt sexually confused or curious that didn’t want to commit to something stronger which is very me. Big commitment issues. Thanks, fam. To be clear, regardless of whatever the 2006 teenagers thoughts and feelings were, being bi is valid and should not be excused away or erased by anyone. Thank you.

From this moment, I was a loud and proud raving bi to my close friends and the strangers on the internet who saw my clearly-labeled sexual preference on my Myspace page. And the emo friends I made at this time were awesome. We just used to hang and make out with each other and listen to music and drink bottles of Smirnoff Ice until we were sick on each other with no judgment. The judgment came several years later looking back at the photos that you can’t delete. So I didn’t need to tell my family or people at school anything. But the thing is with a Myspace page, anyone with an internet connection can read it. And so the rumors started spreading through my neighborhood that Dan Howell was in fact a bisexual. I had a friend in French class who one day, totally unprompted, just turned to me and said, “Hmm, yeah, I thought so. You give off a bi-vibe.” A bi-vi-, what the fuck is a bi-vibe? Great, yeah, nothing to make a 15-year-old feel self-conscious about his behavior like being told he emanates a bisexual aura. What am I supposed to do with that? Sorry that I give off mixed signals. I’m versatile. Turns out it was actually a social upgrade from being called gay all the time 'cause bisexual was a new word that only referred to sexuality so people actually had to decide how they felt about the fact I was attracted to boys. As opposed to gay which as we all understand is synonymous with bad and also implies a general threat, plague, curse/evil force that simply must be destroyed. People at school were actually almost nice to me with curiosity about it and a few of the boys that previously loved to just generically call me gay while throwing a compasses at me or something, now started to low-key flirt with me and some stuff happened. Go figure.

But then I entered the dark ages and no I’m not talking about my hair because I was never actually cool enough to commit to dying it black. As quickly as they arrived into my life, my emo friend group vanished into the night. Like the tip of an eyeliner pencil snapping or the HTML on your intricately-crafted MySpace page falling apart when the host websites of your embedded gifs die, so, too, did my social life. One had to suddenly focus on school, another moved town, two of them just fell out with each other and started hanging out with their old friends again. Well, we don’t all have back up friend groups, Lindsey! I went all in on the emos! You’re telling me I have to go back to sitting in my kitchen playing Runescape now! Thanks a lot. So for a year I literally had no friends. And this is when the bullying at school really stepped its pussy up. The things people used to say offhand to me in a corridor were now said loudly in classrooms where everybody would laugh. People used to sing songs about me being gay on the bus while my fellow nerds sat around me just stared awkwardly out of the window not wanting to get involved. People shouted things out during GCSE exams in front of the whole school and the low key pushing became punches. People used to wait for me after school just to throw things at me. Once a guy put his hand around my throat and pushed my head against a coat peg in the locker room while everyone was watching and just slapped me for five minutes. But I never reacted. I never cried or got angry or fought back 'cause then I’d be giving them what they wanted and I refused to play along. But this way of dealing with things definitely had an impact on my relationship with emotion going into life. I became a total outcast. No one wanted to come near me out of fear that they’d get targeted, too. So no one ever stood up for me. And, you know, I don’t blame them. I just resent them even to this day. No, I’m kidding, I don’t really. I do. No, I don’t. I, hmm. Teachers at the time obviously did nothing. In fact, one of them saw this happening to me and laughed 'cause you know, boys will be boys especially the gay ones that get killed by the other ones, am I right? Ah, classic lad banter. And home. See, keeping this on the topic of sexuality and not economic class, violence, addiction, and health issues, let’s just say some shit was goin’ down. I didn’t think I could ask my family for help or share my feelings about this, mainly due to my dad. Funny guy, kind of a woke hippie who did and said a lot of things I did respect but at the same time used to walk around the house saying how he hoped someone he had a problem with at work would *clears throat* “die of bum cancer.” Yep, so picked the one area to be a bigot that would further traumatize your child. Nice! This experience coming from a childhood hearing the word gay meaninglessly thrown around as an insult at home and school, in music, on TV, to then realizing I am actually kinda gay, to then very specifically being attacked for it was traumatic. The world was clearly telling me if I ever wanted to be accepted by anyone or, in my particular environment, survive, I couldn’t be gay. I was afraid of it, literally homophobic of myself. I am talking Pavlov, sunken place, North Korea-level mind alteration that made me terrified of and repulsed by this part of me. This is called internalized oppression. It’s a real thing and it’s some real shit.

Chapter 3 – Internalized Oppression

From this moment I was no longer advertising myself as bi. No, BRB deleting that Myspace real quick, xD lemme get on that Bebo. “My Chemical Romance”? No, I’m listen to what’s this, N-Dubz? Jesus Christ. I go away for the summer break and come back to school quiet and serious and fully straight. *coughs* I needed me some new friends that were a bit higher up the social ladder, you know what I’m sayin’ for security so I go ahead and join “The Inbetweeners”. Literally this group of friends, the exact middle ground between nerds and desperately wanting to be cool. And oh how desperate we were. The great thing about these friends was they knew loads of girls. So firstly, instant cool points. Secondly, if I date a girl *scoffs* super not gay. The problem with that was it’s not like everyone just forgot everything that’s been said about me and this group of friends, casually homophobic pretty much all the time and also they hung out in places near some even more aggressive and super homophobic peeps. Just full-time Runescape would have been a better in hindsight. I find myself going through the same shit at school but now voluntarily going through it at the weekends from the people that are supposed to be my friends thinking I’m doing the right thing whilst constantly telling myself I’m now totally heterosexual. So I did what many people choose to do at that point and I got a girlfriend. But this is pretty messed up because I really liked this girl. In fact, I loved her as a friend and I was genuinely attracted to her but I was so afraid of sexuality I didn’t even wanna do anything straight in case I had some weird gay panic that I was totally frigid and I led her on. And when she got pissed at me, understandably, for being a terrible boyfriend, I just felt even worse. This was someone who I liked that I was hurting and lying to but I couldn’t leave as then I’d have no armor. Beautiful irony here is having a girlfriend didn’t in any way stop the abuse 'cause remember, gay is a great all-purpose general insult. (Call someone gay today and we’ll throw in a free set of steak knives.) And when these neighborhood teens started heavy drinking and getting into drugs, things suddenly got quite scary as people joked about setting fire to a tent as I slept in it at Reading Festival. Or saying, “You know that notoriously unstable guy? Yeah, he said he’s gonna kill you next Saturday.” Awkward.

This was definitely the lowest point in my life. I just felt totally alone, confused and I deeply hated myself. I used to ask God, in case he was there, to please, just make me straight and everyone stop. But I saw no end, no escape, no way to change the world or who I was. So one evening I thought fuck it and I attempted suicide.

I say attempted, because just before it was too late I thought

“oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit what have i done what have i done fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck?”

“what will your grandma think don’t do this to her she tried her best and she loves you”

“your family aren’t total dicks and this will fuck them up can’t you just get over it surely”

“you’re gonna get to the last year of school and give up now really what was the point”

“I heard this is one of the most painful ways to die so not a great choice if I’m being blunt”

Felt kinda bad for a few days otherwise I pretended it never happened and I didn’t tell anyone, until now, literally. Hmm, I know pretty dark right, but hey spoiler things kinda worked out. I mean still gotta lot of issues but here I am. I’m so glad I failed for so many reasons, for the people in my life, for the future I would’ve wasted. The most important being that I thought I was trapped in a situation forever when in reality, the entire world I lived in and my life changed completely. I thought it was hopeless when in reality there was so much to hope for and that’s it. Time changes everything. With the lives that we have, we can try anything we’ve dreamed of. I want anyone that’s ever felt like this to realize you are never trapped. There is always hope. You just need to believe in yourself and get to the other side. So yeah school age 6 to 18, I’m gonna give that a bad Google review. The thing is I did stand out. I’ve always been a loudmouth, class clown, annoying shit. Since graduating, it turns out half the people I knew were fuckin’ gay. That group of friends I had, all lovely people now. Five of them were gay, five gays! That is statistically irregular. Oh but they flew under the radar. All I’m saying is I wish people just hated me for being annoying and immature. Leave the gays alone!

My light at the end of the tunnel was university. I was gonna get my A levels move to a new town and ghost these bitches. But I took a gap year first to earn some money which was very boring sitting at home and working at ASDA where I was not happy to help. My shift started at 5 a.m. on a Saturday. Signed up for a Twitter account to run my mouth off and then bam. “So my name is [Dan].” My YouTube story begins, a new chapter of my life to redefine. So you know what I do? Get a Formspring because nothing gives you that attention feeling like one of those anonymous question and answer websites that are inherently toxic and no one should use. And straight out of the bat bisexual Dan returns. 'Cause hey, just like Myspace, I’m only telling a few people on the internet right now. It’s not like one day I’m gonna get so many followers that random strangers and my family might see it. Wow, I had a lot fun with many different kinds of people in 2009. Let’s just say I got a lot out of my system. Got a couple of things in my system, too. Sorry.

And this is when, through the magic of the internet, I met Phil. And obviously we were more than friends but it was more than just romantic. This is someone that genuinely liked me. I trusted them. And for the first time since I was a tiny child, I actually felt safe. And the relationship we formed at that point was something that I needed in my life. We are real best friends, companions through life, like actual soulmates, not that souls are a real thing that exist. It’s so lucky to just find someone you can be that compatible with and especially to anyone that has experienced the kind of self-hatred that I have dealt with, one person accepting you can make all the difference. And I bet so many people wanna know so much more about that which, honestly, I take as a compliment. But here’s the thing. I’m somebody that wants to keep the details of my personal life private. So is Phil. I know lots of people these days, thanks to social media, want to share and monetize every aspect of their life and then as soon as something changes suddenly it’s this huge drama because everybody got invested in the story of your life like it’s a soap opera. I don’t want that. I wanna do certain things without an audience. I wanna be spontaneous. I don’t wanna feel afraid to take risks. I want to enjoy totally fucking something up and not have to post a statement about it. And if anyone thinks people really have to share these things about their life, you need to rethink your position. And look, I understand that sex is a fun and interesting thing to talk about. I get it. I am also a disgusting pervert. But the specific minutiae of who I be fuckin’, when, why, where, how long, how, uhh, I mean? Sexuality is a general fact that it can be very useful to know about a person for several reasons, but we can’t force people to disclose that either. We don’t know this person’s life story, what they’ve been through, if they haven’t told people, if they’ll lose their job, if they’re in danger. There are so many reasons someone might not be open about it. We can preach the message that being out is good, but aggressively speculating or trying to out someone is really bad. They might not be gay, in which case we’re just harassing someone and probably stereotyping. And if they are there’s gonna be a reason why they haven’t talked about it. So I don’t wanna see any responses to me finally talking about this like no one is surprised. “Dan we been knew.” Wow, you huge galaxy brain genius. What’s it like walking around with all those brain cells in there working overtime? What, you got like three in there? Don’t lose your balance, mastermind. I haven’t exactly been subtle have I? I’m an awkward, sexually ambiguous nerd. “What the fuck even is your sexuality?” That’s not the point. I’m already dead inside so it doesn’t matter here, but to me if someone’s reaction to a person coming out is just, “yeah, I knew”, they’re showing no empathy towards the issue or that person. They’re just making it about themselves like it was a fun piece of gossip they already knew. All we have to do is listen and be accepting.

So anyway back to the tale. Whilst things were looking up for Dan aged 18, things quickly got messy again. Wow, that beats the emo streak of temporary self-acceptance by like six months, nice. There was a point around 2011 where the relationship with my audience shifted from what felt like direct communication between me and individuals that just saw me as a comedy creator to communities of people that formed to talk about me when I wasn’t there. Which is fine, but for some people it was about getting generally invested in me and my real life which I thought was a bit strange 'cause inevitably like anyone who puts themself out there, some people started to really dig into my private life to find out information about me that I wasn’t ready to share. And this was around the same time that YouTubers finally started to get mainstream recognition in the British press. We had the BBC knocking at our door trying to offer Dan and Phil a radio show. From that, Dan and Phil became this entertainment duo that we could have a creative career with. And we love working together, so when all these opportunities came for Dan and Phil, we were really excited but I was also scared as people clearly knew I wasn’t straight and I hadn’t told my family that. None of my old friends knew about this, and what me and Phil had was ours and personal and yet some people were trying to get access to it for their own satisfaction. It was no longer a few people on the internet, no big deal. So I just shut down. It felt like I was back at school again, surrounded by threatening people trying to expose me for their entertainment. Most I’m sure just wanted what was best for me and I feel such genuine sadness and am sorry that I couldn’t be closer to and more truthful with the people in my life that were just trying to be nice but I wasn’t ready to deal with it at this time so I had to do something to contain it. I definitely sent some mixed messages. Some were just joking around, others were super defensive that in my panic came across like “I’m now telling everyone I’m totally straight” when all I really meant was “please fuck off and don’t invade my privacy, you creepy stalkers, thank you”. But this experience seriously triggered some PTSD in me and I was back in the dark place. I didn’t want to just disappear from the internet to escape it and throw away this creative hobby that actually started paying rent. Thanks. So I just decided to put anything to do with my sexuality in a box to come back to later as I was still processing my past and I wanted to understand my identity on my own terms and timeline and not just have it hijacked as fuel for people’s sexual fantasies or some headline in an article. And whilst we’re not exactly living in a utopia yet here on YouTube, the general internet culture only five or six years ago was a much less wholesome, progressive place as this little bubble is now. Sure, a lot of people probably would have been supportive, but there was just as much open bigotry and general toxicity 'cause people felt less accountable and it was okay to say certain things 'cause it’s just on the internet and I couldn’t handle that at the time. And, generally, I can handle a lot. I have big hands with a very wide reach for playing piano, you fucking.. get your mind out of the gutter. We can’t ask people to just put their lives on hold to address their sexuality first. If a kid dreams of being a footballer and age 18 gets signed to a club and all their dreams come true but they’re scared to come out because of the insane homophobia in that community, they shouldn’t turn it down. Yes, it’s so important to be truthful about who you are and open and proud in front of the world but it’s our society’s fault that these people are scared to say who they are. So let’s all focus on making it a welcoming place and people will come out when they are ready. So when was I ready? Well, it’s always been on my mind that I need to talk about this at some point. I couldn’t just keep going forward in my life ignoring it, not only just so I can be authentic, which is very important for general existing, but also just letting people know what kind of sexual attention I want from the world. All of it from everyone. God I’m so thirsty. And if anything motivated me, it’s the idea that I can help someone else 'cause that’s basically my whole career, isn’t it, admitting to shit that I’ve been through so you will feel better about yourselves. There we go, you’re welcome. I have a platform and a following of millions of people, many of whom I know have been through exactly what I have. And if I tell my story as painful and flip floppy and flawed as it is, I know it will mean something to someone as every time someone speaks openly about sexuality, it saves lives. I’d never met a single out gay person until I was 18. And if I had, or even just seen better representation in the media, I wouldn’t have felt so totally alone. I wouldn’t even be saying this to you now if it wasn’t for TV shows, musicians, and public figures in the last couple years reinforcing this to me. It doesn’t matter if I was living the life privately as there was still so much confusion about my feelings and fear. But things are better now, on the internet, on TV, in my real life. It’s not perfect but it feels safe enough in this space right now for me to feel confident. So thank you, sincerely, to all the brave people that came before me and to any of you that made this world seem welcoming for me. And instead of procrastinating from this by focusing on work, which was a way for me to insure my own independence and survival in case I was rejected, or just doing things for other people to take my mind off it instead of asserting my own needs, which my therapist keeps telling me is one of my biggest problems. Here I am with a fresh void of time in front of me to fuck up however I want. Now look, we all have different experiences in life. Some of us are lucky, some of us not. It just so happened that the first 18 years of my life were horrendously shit. It failed me. But we get dealt cards from the start, too. If you look at my life, I was born into this world as an able-bodied, white, cis-man in Britain which immediately gives me so much privilege in this current world and I am fully aware of how much harder making it to today could have been for me, which is why we all need to stand up for equality and social justice even if it doesn’t apply to us. No one stood up for me when it mattered the most and that almost cost me everything. So if you see a woman being harassed, a gay being threatened, someone muttering something racist, say something, do something because if you’re still or silent, the victim will just think that you are against them, too. We all have a responsibility.

This tale was just some of the stuff relating to sexuality. We all have a whole sob story if we wanna tell it but I just wanted to explain the journey of how I got to this point and overcame the obstacles that tried to block this path. And now I’ve arrived.

Chapter 4 – Labels

Okay cool story, bro, it’s answer time. What’s your answer. Whaddayalikedafuk? Here’s the thing, you want me to talk candidly about sexuality as if it’s something that I understand? I don’t know what it is, why it is. Turns out no one knows. I’ve been sitting here for years waiting for scientists to just work it out like bleep bloop. [Oh this is why and exactly how it’s different for people. There we go.] Thinking I shouldn’t run off my mouth on the internet in case my theories and opinions on varying gayness get debunked next week. Well, I waited long enough and it didn’t happen. Science, ya fucked up, you let me down. And I fully expect to have to delete this video in two weeks when you find out all the answers suddenly. Thanks a bunch. What makes someone gay or straight or all the things in between? What the ever loving fuck is gender about? This is a mess. Yet people want you to give them a word because that’s how humans communicate with words that have meanings. Which is why our disgusting species is impatient, stupid, and obsessed with labels. And this applies to everything, sexuality, gender, political identity, what obscure genre of synthwave you listen to. People just want a label that represents something they understand so they already know how to feel about you and don’t have to bother thinking. [Oh you’re a feminist well I don’t need to know anything more. Oh you’re a leftist. Oh you’re a K-pop fan but but but but.] If people just want to find a way to disagree with you or dislike you, they can refer to the label and turn off their brains. Hey, what does my label say? Huh. The issue is, especially when we start talking about the writhing mass of confusion and suffering that is sexual and gender identity, the limits of language and specific terminology become a big problem. What does being gay mean? You never thought about a boob once? What does being a man mean? You wanna be an emotionless rock rubbing raw steaks against your biceps? It’s not like humanity is all in agreement right now. I don’t like the stereotypes and drama that come with all this terminology so I’m just not gonna use it. Thing is gender identity isn’t my issue. I feel comfortable with the identity that I’ve had my whole life. Dan, a tol boy from England. But being a man means nothing to me. I wouldn’t feel uncomfortable wearing makeup or a sickening pair of heels, though I can’t even draw in a straight line so that would be a disaster. Also is anyone really comfortable wearing heels? Hmm. Icons of masculinity aren’t really a big part of my life. Might as well call me a fucking formless blob that sounds more relatable. Shout out to all my formless blobs out there, rise up. I don’t have to do anything or be anything and I personally wouldn’t feel offended if I wasn’t referred to as a he. Well, she’s feeling hungry today. Stop fucking judging me, Susan. I’m sad and I’m gonna eat this whole damn cake whether you like it or not. But anyone that has this don’t really care attitude about their gender identity is in a way privileged 'cause some people, especially trans, care a lot about their gender identity and using the correct pronouns which other people should respect. Likewise with sexuality, whilst to me the endlessly increasing list of tribes and flags being flown is a bit daunting and confusing and personally stresses me out 'cause I almost find it constrictive, some people like it. Because if you’re feelings are confusing and then you look at a word that represents something and go, “wow, that me”, it can help you realize you’re valid and find a community and that’s great. There is so much controversy around this issue and others but if we all just calm down, respect each other’s experiences and try to just be nice, reasonable people, which is a lot to ask, let’s be real, it’s quite simple. If you wanna use language to express your honest feelings and identity, that’s great and other people should respect what you say. Likewise, if you hate labels and you just wanna be a formless blob, that’s fine, too. No one should force you. The only thing that isn’t cool is telling other people what they should or should not identify as 'cause that ain’t your problem or your business, bye. This was one of the things that held me back from talking about this for years. Shit’s confusing, man. Let’s just go back to cellular reproduction by mitosis so I don’t really have to be specific. Two people that I really look up to and respect, Harry Styles and Janelle Monae, both famously say that they don’t feel the need to label it which, to be honest, is how I feel and is perfectly okay. But I get it, for me, you want a word. Oh, that’s hard, though. I’m an annoying guy. I feel uncertain specifying my sexuality in the same way I wouldn’t say I am an atheist. Who the fuck am I to say whether God does or doesn’t exist? I don’t know shit 'bout shit and neither does anyone else. I mean I think it’s unlikely in the same way I know I like DICK. But I’m not gonna pretend to have a definite answer here. Looking at my public statements is inconsistent and confusing. Looking at my personal track record through life is super confusing. And looking at the void inside my soul threatening to crush the entire universe with the force of its event horizon of misery and melodrama, well, fuck let’s close that shit up. One thing’s for sure whatever heterosexual is, I ain’t it. Really if you ask me, I don’t think anyone’s totally straight. I think there’s a lot of social and emotional issues getting in the way of yet to be understood feelings of attraction that can be very flexible. And trust me, I’ve known a lot of straight guys until a couple of drinks, some deep conversation, and lingering eye contact, and suddenly they just start leaning in. What does that make them? And am I totally gay? No. Am I slightly more gay or is it just easier for gays to hook up with each other because of societal norms. It’s not like the signs for male and female bathrooms are what I’m attracted to. I don’t care what flesh organ you have between your legs, what your hair’s like, if you’re covered in it or a fuckin’ beluga whale. I’m gonna be honest, I’m not picky. I’m easy. So am I bi or pan or poly? Well, now we’re just in a clusterfuck of defining language and I’m confused and sad and horny. This is why I personally love the word queer. I understand that some people don’t as it is a slur but as someone that’s been the target of it several times throughout my life I’m up for some reclamation. It’s like recycling. The definition makes sense because until society is equal with all sexual and gender identifies, it is literally strange from a conventional viewpoint plus it’s better than a super long acronym, it’s inclusive of everyone and therefore great for formless blobs. There we go, an identity I feel comfortable with. A highly-strung, depressed queer praying for a giant meteor to hurry up and finally eradicate humanity. LMAO, yeet!

But to come full circle, I know that even today, deep in my heart the word gay scares me because that’s how I’ve been conditioned my whole life. So, you know what? Fuck the literal definition and the scientific definition and what everyone thinks. I finally have to just confront and accept this.

I’m gay.

Oh look, didn’t spontaneously fucking combust. Well, there we go, that was a lot of stress about nothing, wasn’t it? Bloody hell. So yup, I’m here, I’m queer, and don’t worry I’m still filled with existential fear.

WE’RE HERE, WE’RE QUEER WE’RE FILLED WITH EXISTENTIAL FEAR.

Chapter 5 – Fear

Even though I’m at this current place, there is still so much I’m afraid of and this has taken months to make because of that. Telling my family was a big fear. I have problems connecting with them emotionally because reasons. So I only came out to them this month and if it didn’t go well, as I’m now the independent adult that I fought so hard to be, I was ready to cut them off like the bottom of a sweater turning into a seasonal crop. But I didn’t have to, love you. I didn’t think they’d reject me these days but coming out is still a surprise. It changes things. And I’m a pretty awkward person generally but the idea of just dropping this in conversation in front of them all terrified me. And I tried several times this year to do it but I just couldn’t. So you know how I finally came out to my family? E-mail. Yep, I literally just sent them an e-mail saying and I quote,

“Hello gang. I’ve been meaning to talk to you all for a while, something quite important that should be disclosed at some point. I thought I would around Christmas, then Mum’s birthday, then last Easter Sunday, etc., but every time I meant to, I either felt like I would ruin the mood of the day or I just felt awkward and didn’t want to. So I decided just to email you all instead which is really inappropriate and just weird but that somehow seems appropriate for me and at least I’ll just finally say it.

Basically I’m gay.”

Yup. It was just getting ridiculous so I thought screw it and hey, it worked. Turns out my remaining family, pretty chill bunch of people. Even my Christian grandma said this,

“We love you for being you. It must be a great relief to finally acknowledge who you are. Popsie and I just want you to be happy. People are born as they are and have no say in it. I hope that now you will feel free to live your life as you want with no pretense.”

Aw.

“Don’t forget the iPad.”

Yes, I said I’d give her my old iPad. She mainly cares about that I thing. Wasn’t so sure when I was 17 but it went well now and I know that makes me lucky but, hey, it shows that times change. As for the other people in my life, obviously all the friends I have now are cool. If anyone in my life I’ve ever known isn’t cool with it then I don’t care. And sure here online there might be a few incredibly lost bigots following me or just some classic trolls who I think should get fucked. No, like literally, I think you should try it. You’ll probably enjoy it and you might learn something about yourself. Inevitably some of you watching this might have a weird reaction if you just feel like it was a shock or you feel hurt that I kept it from you. But I feel like I explained myself reasonably here and going forward I can’t have any space for that, sorry. I’ve come to terms with who I am and now you have to, too, ha. Funnily enough straight up homophobia is probably the one thing I’m not that afraid of, because I just don’t agree so it doesn’t hold much emotional power over me but you bet I’m opening myself up to all new kinds of in real life and international discrimination now which is fun. But one of the other big fears holding me back was, honestly, that I wouldn’t be accepted by the community. I know that it’s a big pride flag covering a lot of ground and even the idea of it and certainly most of it is amazing. But there is a lot of drama within it right now especially on the internet. You’ve got Grindr gays arguing about how manly gays should be, bi’s getting ignored, trans people, especially of color, not being historically appreciated, acephobia, fucking SWERFs and TERFs. No thank you. So even though they are my people, I know some of them will have problems with something. And even then, just seeing such a loud and proud, strong and opinionated group of people celebrating something just intimidates a smol introvert such as myself. And in my mind if these people don’t accept me because I’m not being definitive enough or I took too long then I almost feel like I’ll be alone all over again, and this is a fear that a lot of people have honestly. But I’m a nice guy and I’m trying my best so you better be welcoming, you bunch of fuckin’ queers. And obviously with the topic of sexuality, it doesn’t matter where we are or how far you think we’ve come, by merely mentioning it, I will be opening up a primordial box of bullshit which will include every single stupid argument and question since the dawn of time. [It’s not natural.] There’s gay animals. [Adam and Steve.] That’s based on a story and the protagonist that arrives later probably doesn’t agree with you. [Why can’t we have straight pride?] I could spend 10 hours on all the classic crap and people would still be asking the same things. This being posted on the internet, my hopes are so incredibly low, lower than my self-esteem. Wow, that is unhealthy. I need to stop doing that. This video is about internalized oppression and the problems of language. I’m not here to pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the entire concept of gayness. *ASMR voice*: Pontificate on every topic tangentially related to the concept of gayness.

There’s other humans and all the time in the world left for that. The time in the world coincidentally being not much longer. Climate change LMAO. But I had to tell my story so people would understand me and these things. Why coming out is still a big deal because queer people are often invisible and suffering until they have to do it. Some people grow up in supportive environments and it’s a positive experience. But more likely, especially around the world outside of the big cities, it isn’t. This is not a fight that is anywhere near over. Even in Britain today people are debating whether children should be taught to be accepting of sexual and gender identity in school.

Queer people exist. Choosing not to accept them is not an option.

To anyone watching this that isn’t out, it’s okay. You’re okay. You were born this way, it’s right, and anyone that has a problem with it is wrong. Based on your circumstance, you might not feel ready to tell people yet or that it’s safe and that’s fine, too. Just know that living your truth, with pride, is the way to be happy. You are valid. It gets so much better. And the future is clear. It’s pretty queer.

So there we go. Now I can proceed authentically in my life with full disclosure. Cute mutuals know to slide into the DMs. And you can all fuck off and leave me alone.

Bye.

#basically i'm gay #daniel howell #danielhowell #dan and phil #amazingphil #phil lester #yes im tagging i dont care #if there's a flaw somewhere (like a missed part or sm) dm me so i could fix it #id go through it again anyway but just in case #oh and it's literally just dan's substitles so all credits to him or whoever did that #hmm i wonder if they hired someone. interesting #have fun #the script

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funkyfreshramblings · 3 years

Text

A Story Twenty Years in the Making

CW: Swearing, sex, transphobia (Look, I'm not proud of who I was).

Shortly after I was born, a cousin of mine was as well. My mother took me to a store where she looked to buy a dress for her new niece to celebrate her birth. A woman stopped and looked at my mother, baby Devon in the stroller, dress in her hand, and curiously spoke up.

"Excuse me miss, but you know that you have a boy, right?" The woman shopping, presumably for her own daughter, had said to my mother.

"Of course I know I have a son. What about it?" My mother said in response.

"Well, that's a dress you're holding. Why would you be buying that for your son?" The woman puzzled.

My mother, quick as a whip and smarter than most people I know today, responded without a second thought.

"I'm letting him experiment with his sexuality."

---

At twelve (12) years old, I became aware of this really weird website. You see, everyone was talking about it, a schoolyard rumour we didn't dare to talk about in front of the teachers. The mythical status of this website was nothing to scoff at, students would huddle around and talk about their findings. It was like an ARG, a new puzzle added every day. The school was rife with these conversations, and everyone was hooked.

I'm of course talking about Pornhub.

Obligatory "don't go on Pornhub unless you're the legal viewing age in your country" aside (even though I'm aware those warnings stop nobody), I too became a curious mind. One day, when my parents had slipped out of the house and I was alone, I pulled it up on my computer upstairs. What I say fascinated me, women and men having sex.

Sex. Woah. Penises, vaginas, anuses. There was everything on this website. Everything. Including this one tab which I didn't dare click.

This one category had what appears to be two men on it. I assumed it was two men, after all neither of them had pronounced breasts like all the women had. And the title of the category? Gay. 'What the fuck does that mean?' twelve-year-old (12) me thought. I ignored it, thought it was weird, and continued on.

In the back of my mind, I was curious. A few weeks after watching straight porn and being mostly repulsed by how awful the women screamed in those videos, I tried it. I clicked on the category tab and was immediately hit with my first exposure to the gay community.

'Twink? Bear? Fisting? Now that's nasty.' I was curiously disgusted but clicked on anyways. "Twinks" looked cute, so I clicked there. Wait, cute? Did I really think these guys were cute? Like I thought my girlfriend was cute?

The video was, simply put, less aggressive than straight porn. Holy shit was straight porn aggressive. It terrified me how much those women screamed like the men were killing them by inserting their penises too far into their bodies. But gay porn looked softer. It was sweeter, with more love. After all, sex is about love, right? Forgive my younger self, you see. He clearly did not understand that nothing in porn is about love. But hey, when working with a half deck, you have to make the cards work.

So I watched gay porn over straight porn. That doesn't mean I'm gay! But wait, if gay porn is between two men, what is porn between a woman and a man. What's porn between two women? Never mind, I'm not that curious about two women together.

A quick Google search sent me down the most soul-searching adventure I'd ever partake in. At least, up until this point.

I soon learned what gay meant, what straight meant, what lesbian meant. You mean boys liking other boys was normal? Girls can like other girls? Wait, you can like boys and girls?

Oh, wait, you can also not be sexually attracted to anyone.

Asexual was a term I first read those years ago, and I soon thought that it described me. See, up until this point, women never interested me sexually. I was twelve (12). Sex really never crossed my mind, even when it was supposed to. But I was watching porn, I thought!

Doesn't matter. I didn't want to be part of those acts. That's what made me ace, I thought.

My lord was I wrong. (Not about ace people, but about my identity. This is where things get juicy. And chuddy.)

---

Okay, so cut to two years later. I'm fourteen (14), in grade ten (10) during Art class. One of my friends sat beside me, my ex across from me, and I hated Art class. Why'd I taken this god-awful course again? Regardless, as I sat there and thought, I thought about my bullying up until high school.

I filled out as a kid. I mean that literally, I grew tall and wide really quickly. No one fucked with me when I was in high school. No one wanted to, and I faded to the background.

But in elementary school, I was the new kid. Backing up to 2009, eight-year-old (8) Devon moved. I would celebrate my ninth (9th) birthday in a class where no one knew me or no one cared. Well, that's not true. One kid cared. Bless that kid. Regardless, 9-year-old (9) me had a target on his back. A big one, and it quickly meant I was being bullied.

My mother is terrifying. I use bold there because I don't think italics can describe just how terrifying mama-bear is when she's angry. After finding out that I was being bullied, she pulled into the school and chewed out the principal. And the parents. And the kids. Hell hath no fury like a mother who went through the shit mine did. So quickly the bullying died down.

Stopped? No, but quieted. My new friends surrounded me in a wonderful bubble of love, but that didn't mean they also didn't pick on me. The most common insult? Gay.

Gay? Like, porn gay? No no no, I said. I'm not gay.

Cut back to 14-year-old (14) me, thinking throughout Art class. I swear Ms. Taylor had it out for me. Oh, right, gay.

'Holy shit.' I thought.

'Wait. They're right, I'm gay. I like men. Holy shit I really like men. Men are hot, and I want to be with one so bad. But I live in this crap town of conservatives (my parents taught me right, conservatives are some of the shittiest people on the planet after all).'

Okay, so I'm gay. I figured that out at the very least! Now I have to tell people.

Oh. Fuck. I have to tell people.

Coming out. Hell, as I like to call it. First to my friends. My friends would understand, after all, I had a pansexual friend. What the fuck does pansexual mean? Never mind that Devon, focus on your own damn self for a second.

Oh. My. God. I have to tell people.

I pulled up my big boy pants and blurted out in the middle of class...

Nothing. What did you expect?

I waited 'till the next morning. That made sense.

---

"Hi, Sierrah!" I said to my colourful friend. Her hair was always a different colour every month and still is. I wish I had half the hair strength she must have.

"Hey, Devon!" She said, blue backpack on her back, meeting up with me to walk to school in the morning.

"I have something to tell you. I'm gay." She looked at me and squealed before wrapping me in a big hug.

"I'm so proud of you!" Okay, one down. A lot more to go.

My best friend in high school used to be someone who I absolutely despised. We bonded over our shared dislike of our shared ex. We became really close. Telling him was pretty easy. Okay, two down.

Remember that girl I sat beside during Art? Not my ex, the one I bonded with my best friend over disliking, I meant the girl sitting beside me. Well, let me tell you.

No one can give me a reception nearly half as good as what she did when I told her.

"Sara, I'm gay," I said. Less than five (5) seconds later, my face was buried in the tits of Sara. That was... fun. Not sexual in the slightest, it was fun. She was warm, and she loved me. I could tell that as a friend, Sara would become the most important person in my life. Thank you, Sara. Should you ever read this.

I hope someone reads this.

Anyone?

Moving on, I eventually told all my friends that day. None of them gave a shit! Cool!

My parents.

Oh no. My parents were next.

I'm skipping that part, it's no longer relevant.

Sorry. (Not sorry in the slightest.)

---

So I graduated the gay kid of 2018. Yay! Seventeen-year-old (17) me made it to grad!

But before I did, I need to preface this part of the story. I was, unfortunately, a fan of Soygon of Asskad. And Blairina Weiss.

Shame. Shame. Shame. Not a day goes by where I'm not sorry for my actions during this period of my life. I am so profusely sorry for the racism and transphobia I perpetuated during this period of my life. I was even homophobic. God damn it, Devon, what the fuck are you doing?

I am now a proud socialist. University helped. So did Vaush, and BadBunny (who's chat might be reading this. Henlo Nicole! Henlo chat!).

Scream at me about Vaush later.

Okay, where was I? Right, grad. University applications.

I made it into the University of Toronto Mississauga. Canada's best university. One of the best universities in the world. Holy shit, I should be more proud of myself for that. I am proud. I made it there, and as I write this, I'm on my last year.

Here's to me becoming a med student soon, I hope!

So school happened. I went to school as a shy gay kid with undiagnosed anxiety problems. That wouldn't last, and soon my anxiety was written in the prescriptions I was handed over the counter for Lexapro. This is where I met my first friend from university.

He will remain unnamed for legal reasons.

He introduced me to one of the most beautiful men I've met to this date.

S. (Name redacted for reasons you need not know. Not legal reasons. Personal ones. Please respect this decision.)

Woah, was this guy just... hot. He was an athlete, no way he'd like me. He probably also sleeps around, and I don't want that.

Boy was I wrong. I soon found out that S was very much into me. I was someone's crush. Wow!

That eventually turned into a... relationship. You get the gist. Affirmation.

I was very, very gay. S helped me understand that I was very very gay.

Okay, so eighteen-year-old (18) Devon was gay. That was very clear.

So that's the end of the story, right?

No.

We just crossed the halfway point.

---

Cut to twenty (20). I am gay, an active chatter in BadBunny's (Twitch streamer, not singer) discord, and really really confused.

See, progressive streamers like BadBunny typically have features to add yourself to a role on Discord that would tell everyone your pronouns when they clicked on your profile. This is a really good way to affirm pronouns of everyone, so I'm down.

Well, I do have one problem. Any/all isn't listed here. Wait.

Wait...

Any? All?

Why do I feel like this?

I'm cis. Let me make that clear. I am cisgendered. I identify as a man, I was born a man, and I think I will always be a man. I think.

But I know pronouns don't necessarily tell you someone's gender. They is a really popular pronoun for all sorts of non-binary identities, all of which are different from each other. So pronouns do not equal gender.

Can I really use they/them, she/her, he/him, fae/faer, fawn/fawn, etc/etc. all while being cis? I think so, let's try it! I don't know how to describe my gender, all I know is I'm apathetic to my pronouns.

Cut to a TikTok video. I learned my fucking gender identity from a TikTok video. This is why representation is important.

"Gender Apathy" we're the words coming from this person's mouth. She? He? Them? Didn't matter, they didn't care. I didn't care.

We didn't care.

Holy fuck.

---

Google has been a really important resource for me as an academic student. Wikipedia articles affirm my suspicions before I move onto Google Scholar to look up articles.

I'm fucking kidding.

Fuck Google Scholar.

But Google did introduce me to the world of fandom wikis.

Is gender wiki a thing? LGBTQ+ wiki?

As it turns out, it is.

Gender Apathy is an article there, as well as many many other identities. If you're question, do some keyword searches. You'll never know what you find.

Anyways, Gender Apathy. Cisapathetic, which I kind of interpret as someone who identifies as cisgender but doesn't really care? I guess? This is all still confusing, but whatever. Cisapathetic.

I quickly shared this with all my friends. I found something new out!

But we aren't done yet.

---

Cut to a little while later. It's Pride month, 2021. This month, if you happen to read this as soon as it goes up! Someone on TikTok is making Pride moths.

Fucking TikTok.

Moths were, at one point, a really popular meme online. Lämp. Gen Z humour will be the end of us all.

So naturally, people found a love for moths. Great, that's lead us to this point. I notice during these videos that these moths are pretty. I want one, or rather, two.

I want the modern Pride moth. The trans flag and a black and brown stripe were included on this modern Pride flag to signal that BIPOC are central to Pride, and need to be celebrated and that our trans friends need our help. Need our platform. Need our rights too.

And I wanted the Gender Apathetic moth. After all, it was something new I discovered! Well, I noticed something in the comments while I was requesting a Gender Apathetic moth from this creator (they were open to suggestions, so please don't heckle me about it). One commenter said the words "are you doing a Neptunic/Uranic/Saturnic moth as well?" What the hell are those?

To the LGBTA wiki!

Neptunic is described as a sexuality "attracted to women, feminine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Saturnic is described as a sexuality "attracted to androgynous aligned non-binary people."

Uranic is the one I'm really curious about then. I'm attracted to men, after all. Uranic is described as a sexuality "attracted to men, masculine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Woah.

So let me back up a little bit.

When I had access to Twitter (they suspended me for defending my sexuality from someone who was saying gay men all have AIDS, so thanks Twitter) I once made a thread talking about how I didn't feel comfortable with calling myself gay.

"But Devon," I hear you say, "the whole first half of this story was dedicated to you realizing you were gay! How can you say that after wasting so much of our fucken' time?"

Give me a minute, dear reader. Let me explain what I said in this thread.

As I type this out, I recognize the transphobia I had against trans-men even while typing out that thread. I want to say, right here, right now, that my sexuality is trans-inclusive. Men with vaginas are still men. I am still very much attracted to men with vaginas. But this thread still falls on transphobic remarks. Once again, I profusely apologize for my past. I am currently working towards being a better person to my trans friends, both online and offline. I am doing my best to be better. I love you all, and I thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this.

Oh, and U of T, if you're reading this, before you even think about kicking me out for admitting my previous bigotry, I urge you to think about your staff first. Jordan Peterson still has a job and makes the campus trans-exclusive as he continues to teach. Catch yourself before you come for me, a student doing his best to be better.

Okay, so back to the Twitter thread.

I essentially said something along the lines of this:

I really struggle with calling myself gay when in reality, I'm only attracted to people with penises, and who lack vaginas and breasts. I would have sex with non-binary people who have penises. So am I really just "gay?"

But in a lot more words. Before I continue, I want to take the time to explain how this comment is transphobic, and why I am sorry and why I want to explain that I no longer feel this way. Okay? So, here's the short of it:

I go by the term gay, but by saying I'm explicitly only attracted to people with penises while liking men, I was indirectly making the point that trans-men are not men if they too do not have penises.

This is not true. Trans men are men, and I have come to realize my attraction for trans men as well, despite genitalia. My sexuality encompasses men of all kinds, and non-binary people who are masculine aligned or neutrally aligned. Once again, I can only apologize and do better.

I am sorry for my previous transphobia. I hope I can make it better by acknowledging it and doing my best to avoid these implications ever again.

Okay, now that we have all of that out of the way, let's talk Uranic again.

Uranic really does describe me. I feel it in every bone of my body, that I really do find myself sexually attracted to even non-binary people.

So, gay is out, uranic is in.

Where does that leave me today?

---

When I started this post, I explained how I was a cisgendered gay man who was a liberal who almost fell down the alt-right pipeline. But as I type this post, not only has my identity evolved, but so has my political ideology. I am a cisapathetic, uranic man who still uses the term gay in casual conversation because it's easier even though it doesn't really describe me, socialist.

BadBunny/Nicole, chat, if you're reading this, thank you. You helped me a ton in discovering socialism and to reject ideas of capitalism that only serve to continue the systematic racism against black people, the systematic transphobia that kills trans people, and even the systematic homophobia I face as a "gay" man.

Wow, that was long. Really long. If you made it this far, give yourself a pat on the back. You just read the life history of a twenty-year-old (20) and how he came to understand his identity.

I love you all.

Signed,

Devon.

FunkyFreshHomo on Discord.

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emilialuciasantos · 3 years

Text

Is It True? || Self-Para

Where: Valentine/Santos residence, Santa Monica, California

When: January 29, 2021

Featuring: Blaine Valentine, George Valentine

Triggers: N/A

After the gossip debacle of the previous night, Emilia didn’t want to leave bed at all that day. However, she had to tough it out and go to class. By the end of the day, she had almost forgotten about the whole ordeal-- especially regarding where she was allegedly “always looking”-- but of course Blaine had to bring it up. It was after dinner, and Emilia and Blaine were cleaning up; she was doing dishes, he was cleaning the table and putting leftovers away in the fridge. As he shuffled through the cabinets to find a tupperware, Blaine asked her, “So, did you see last night’s gossip?”

“Yeah, Gossip God sure has a thing for you and Isabelle, huh?” she asked, trying to deflect.

“Yeah. The guy seems to ship me with every woman I make eye contact with. But he seems to have more of a thing for you and some chick named Lola,” he countered, pulling out the container he was looking for.

Her heart dropped to her stomach when he said that, not only because the whole world seemed to know about her crush, but also because she had never formally come out to her step-family. “She’s just a friend,” she responded, curtly, turning off the sink.

Blaine could tell that she was hiding something and trying to deflect. As he put the last of the spaghetti into the tupperware, he stated, “Look, I don’t care if you’re gay--”

“I’m not gay, Blaine” she interrupted. She knew she couldn’t get out of this one, that Blaine would keep pestering her until she fessed up. That seemed to be what Blaine did best. “I’m pansexual, okay?”

Blaine blinked at her, staying silent for a moment before saying, “Okay.”

“Okay? That- that’s it?”

“Well yeah. It’s fine. But back to the topic at hand,” he smirked, handing the pasta pot to Emilia. “You and this chick. Is it true?”

Emilia whined at his question. She did like Lola, a lot. She didn’t have the words to express just how much she liked her. She also didn’t fully understand why she felt so strongly about someone she had only known for a few weeks. She wanted to know everything about the other girl. She also wanted to make out. “I doubt she feels the same way.” Why would she?

“You doubt yourself too much. Gossip God seems to think it goes both ways.”

“Well what does he know? He’s just some old weirdo.”

George popped into the kitchen to get a snack when he heard his kids talking about a familiar figure. “Wait, did you say Gossip God? That guy’s still around?”

“Wait, you know about Gossip God?” Blaine wondered.

“Oh, of course I do! The guy’s been around for years and years. Local gossip isn’t anything new. In fact, I was in a few of his articles back when he wrote for the local paper.”

“Okay, now you need to tell us more!” Emilia exclaimed.

“Well, the one I remember the most is when I got married to Blaine’s mom back in ‘95. Ol’ Gossip God called it the ‘Most Surprising Shotgun Wedding of the Year,’ or something like that. Funny part was that Roxy wasn’t even pregnant! But boy did I get an earful from my parents after that article came out. ‘George Luca Valentine, how dare you get married without telling us! You better get that kid baptized!’” George laughed. “Anyways, are you two done in here yet? I want to put that movie on.”

“I’m done,” Blaine answered, exiting the kitchen.

“Almost. I just need to wash out this one pot.” Emilia turned the water back on and started to scrub the pot.

Meanwhile, George went into the pantry to grab a large bag of chips. Before going into the living room, however, he turned to Emilia and said, “Oh, by the way, I heard what you and Blaine were saying, about you liking a girl. I still love you no matter what, okay?”

She stopped in her tracks, taking in everything George said. This definitely wasn’t how she had wanted to come out to the Valentines, but it somehow went better than she could imagine. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Any time. Now hurry up with those dishes. I want to put the movie on before your mom falls asleep on the couch.”

#self para #Blaine Valentine #George Valentine #yes I did write this instead of finishing my homework don't judge me

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not-the-cleavers · 4 years

Text

Target II - Chapter 5

I’m back with another chapter - still on alert for evacuation here but writing takes my mind off all the anxiety around this fire.

Underneath the chapter I have a little snippet of pure friendship that came up while writing this chapter!

Tags; @adrenaline-roulette and @amy-brooklyn99 - if you would like to be tagged just let me know

Pairing; Four x Eight (female reader) Fandom; 6 Underground Warnings; Swearing, smoking, drinking, reader kissing a girl (read that how you’d like in terms of sexuality), mentions of sexual acts (including non-consensual but only briefly I promise), mention of arousal and hinting at masturbation. Word count; 1.6k (total so far 7.9k)

Also I used an answer from this Ben Hardy interview in this chapter!

Summary; The team has moved onto their next target after dealing with Rovach Alimov, a war criminal named John Dough. Eight has just joined the team and is dying to show how much she deserves to be there

Catch up; Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

“You first, your number is lower than mine” I laughed. Four ran his hands through his hair again as a smile broke out across his face. “Alright I’ll start easy. What’s your favourite movie or movie series?” he asked. “Super easy! I love the Saw franchise” He laughed at my response “Hey I know that it’s not the best horror series but I love them” I said pushing his shoulder a bit. “If you could only listen to one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?” “Led Zeppelin ‘Thank You’ because it’s a beautiful love song, and everyone loves a beautiful love song.” “That’s kind of adorable” I sighed, why did he have to be so damn cute? “It’s super adorable I’ll have you know!” he laughed After a few easy questions surrounding hobbies, he blurted out “Tell me about your first kiss” “Not a question, but I’ll roll with it” I said gently mocking him “I was 14 at it was at a school camp a bunch of kids all entered our cabin and we played spin the bottle…” “Oh so a pretty boring story” Four interrupted “Will you let me finish? Mary King spun, and it landed on me, I thought she would just spin again, as were the rules laid out by the boys in the room, but instead she pulled me up and we kissed.” The look on Four’s face said it all. His mouth was slightly open and he looked like he was far off in thought. I waited patiently, sipping at my drink until he snapped out of it, finally he shook his head slightly and downed the last of the beer in his bottle before cracking open another one. “Tell me about your first kiss” I said lighting another cigarette, not giving him time to say anything in regards to my story. “Um, well, I was 15, down at the pub back home with some mates, drinking and smoking, being stupid kids really. In walked Ashley Reid, she was easily the prettiest girl in school and I had the biggest crush on her. We started dancing and having a good time and then all of a sudden she kissed me.” He said with a shrug, seemingly past the whole I kissed a girl thing. “What was your first sexual encounter?” he asked hesitantly, maybe testing the waters to see how I’d respond. But seeing as I’m a woman with zero shame I had no issue answering him. “Do you mean sex or messing around, those are two very different things.” “I guess just messing around” he shrugged. “I was 16 and I was at a high school party, I had been chatting with Scott Davis for quite some time and one thing led to another and I ended up giving him a blow job in the bathroom of this persons’ house.” I said sipping my drink, leaving out the fact I was blind drunk and he had basically taken advantage of me, I was trying to keep things as light as I could. “So…you’re not gay?” he asked, again very hesitantly “No” I laughed, ‘you have a shot with me’ I thought to myself. “Same question right back at you” “No, I’m not gay” he replied, laughing when he saw my pissed off expression. “You know what I meant” I half yelled, his laugher only making me angrier “You need to be specific love, and now you’ve lost a question” he patted my leg “Did ‘Jack and Jill’ ruin Adam Sandler’s career?” he asked, trying to calm me down by asking a pointless question. “Did he ever really have a good career?” I replied with a grimace, I couldn’t stand the guy. “Wait that’s not my next question!” I shouted, not about to lose another question to a technicality. “Good point, I guess you’re right there” he laughed. “Now you can ask the question you really wanted me to answer.” “Alright, have you ever done anything sexual in public?” I asked, slightly changing the question to catch him off guard. “Honestly, Ashley Reid when I was 15…” “C’mon don’t fuck with me, you can’t be serious” I slapped his bicep but his face told me he was in fact, being serious. “Yeah, after she kissed me we danced some more. When we got tired we sat down in a booth and she gave me a handy under the table. I had to run to the bathroom shortly afterwards and ditch my boxers. Went the rest of the night commando” he said jerking his head to the side slightly before taking another sip of his beer. Honestly was not expecting that response.

We kept going back and forth asking each other questions, going well and truly over the twenty question limit, but we were having fun. Our questions kept getting sexual and then easing back into being light hearted and funny and then back again, but as we got drunker the sexual questions became more heated. I could see Four was holding back so I piped up “I can see you have a question, I have no shame so go ahead and ask me” “Alright, do you have any kinks?” he asked, his eyes darkening slightly just waiting for my response. “Domination, tie me up and choke me…” I started rattling off a few things bound to get me hot and bothered while looking at my hands. I felt Four shift slightly to reposition himself on the bed next to me as I talked ‘am I turning him on?’ “Oh and I’m into pegging” I joked, which caused him to tense up. “Oh…” did he think that last comment was serious? I wonder how far I could take this, so I kept a straight face and asked him “what about you, what gets you going?” “Uhhh…” he scratched the back of his neck, seemingly considering whether or not to answer “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to” I told him, rubbing his arm. I didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. “No it’s not that. I just haven’t really developed any kinks. I’m a pretty vanilla guy” he said shyly, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Well there’s still time to work on that” I told him, trying to put his mind at ease. “How? I’m dead remember?” “There’s some people out there into that” I joked, causing us to collapse in a fit of laughter. My side felt like it was on fire but I didn’t care, I felt a complete sense of relaxation with Four that I had never felt with anyone else in my life. I found myself leaning against his chest, my body seemingly melting into his chiselled one. I had never noticed just how muscular he was, he was always wearing his hoodies, hiding his figure.

He eventually stopped laughing, and I felt his hand find its way under my chin, lifting it up so I was looking straight into his jade eyes. My eyes darted towards his lips right before those exact lips gently collided with mine. My hands flew up and my fingers knotted themselves into his blond locks. A slight moan escaped his lips. Without him breaking the kiss, he started to slide his leg underneath me and leant backwards so he ended up on his back. I rolled on top of him so that my chest was flush with his. His hands played at the hem of my hoodie, and I became acutely aware that I still had no shirt on underneath, but even with this sudden realisation, I didn’t stop him from snaking his hands underneath. The rough calloused skin on his hands felt unusually comforting against my hips. He only broke the kiss long enough for us to catch our breath and allowing me to steady myself above him, before crashing his lips back into mine. His urgency grew at the same rate as mine, and then I felt it, right against my thigh through both of our sweatpants, he was hard. His hands started to slowly travel up my back and I was loving every moment, that was until his hands made their way to my sides, causing one to land right on my healing bullet wound, causing me to jolt in pain breaking the kiss. “Fuck!” my eyes stung and the room felt like it was moving, I sat upright and moved myself off his lap. Four took a moment of realisation, before scurrying to check I was ok. “Shit Eight I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me” he said hurriedly, hiding his head in his hands, his face turning bright red in embarrassment. “Y/N” was my only response. “Sorry?” he lifted his head to search my face for some kind of clue. “That’s my name, I think we’re well beyond calling each other our numbers” I laughed weakly “Billy” he introduced himself “and I’m sorry, I crossed a line” he said sheepishly “Don’t be sorry, it’s just this fucking bullet wound. I was having the time of my life” I winked at him, causing his eyes to darken. “Look I, um, I think I should call it a night” Billy stammered. What the hell was he talking about? One quick look out the window confirmed that it was indeed late. “Holy shit, alright” I planted a quick kiss on his cheek “sleep well. Come see me again soon” I muttered. Within moments he was out the door, probably needing to go ‘take care’ of things.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that’s chapter 5! I promise there will be more about John Dough in the next chapter, and again I don’t know when it’ll be out but I’ll release it as soon as I can! I hope you enjoyed this little chapter all about Four and Eight getting to know one another, maybe a little more than they were expecting! I’d love to hear from you guys!!

Also huge props to @adrenaline-roulette for all her help and for this glorious moment when I realised I’m shit at 20 questions!

Also yes I forgot the term “straight people” and went with non bi, you are allowed to judge me for that - also before anyone asks, the best way to describe my sexuality is Bi or maybe Pan (I don’t fucking know honestly, everyone is attractive to me!)...Anywho...This post has gone on for long enough, enjoy and I’ll catch ya in the next chapter!

#ben hardy #ben hardy fic #ben jones #6 underground #6 underground fic #four x reader #four x eight #billy/four #four fic

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elyreywrites · 4 years

Text

do you know who you are?

a fic written for Pride Month 2020!! (yes, i know pride month is over, but i posted this on AO3 on June 30th so.) this is a projection fic. it’s not an exact projection of my experience, nor is it meant to be a generalized representation. this isn’t everyone’s experience.

warnings: slight mention of Jack and Janet Drake potentially being homophobic, and discussion of compulsory heterosexuality

thank you to my betas in the Capes & Coffee Discord - Bumpkin, ZulieTheProgrammer, and Oceans!!

title is from Moana’s “I am Moana”!

please REBLOG - DO NOT REPOST

AO3 Link

Teen 1,678 words Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent slight one-sided Tim Drake/Jason Todd - as in, tiny-Tim has a crush on Robin-Jason

Summary:

He’s twelve and watching Robin fight. He’s seventeen and staring up at the ceiling. He’s nineteen and text-spamming his best friends.

Tim’s growing up and finding himself, and he would really appreciate if the Realizations didn’t happen when he’s trying to sleep. Kon and Bart would probably appreciate that as well.

- - - - -

It starts as he’s watching the second Robin knock out some muggers. It’s not the first time Tim has seen Jason’s Robin take down a group of criminals, but it’s the first time that he nearly gives himself away as he squeaks.

Jason’s so strong, and cool, and pretty, and – oh. Ah. Okay.

He calls it a night at that, bright red from the questions that are swimming around in his head. He spends most of the trip home lost in thought. When he’s sitting on his bed, one of his best pictures of Jason’s Robin sitting in front of him, he gives them a voice. Talking usually helps him get his thoughts in order. “Okay,” he whispers, “do I like boys?” He doesn’t dislike them – not at all. But does he like them? Maybe, but… how is he supposed to know? “Is that too big of a topic?” he wonders aloud to the picture. “Let’s start with this: Do I like Robin? Jason-Robin.”

That doesn’t turn his brain into a jumbled mess like the previous question did. Of course he likes Jason-Robin. He’s absolutely amazing, protecting people and checking on the working girls and kicking criminal ass! He’s only a couple years older than Tim is, but he does so much more! And he’s real in a way Dick isn’t.

Jason’s just a kid like Tim, though they have such different backgrounds. Dick was a trained acrobat, with skills Tim never really believed he could learn. Jason seemed closer. He was still more amazing than Tim could ever hope to be, but it wasn’t an entirely impossible stretch like it was with Dick.

“And he’s so passionate, especially when it’s a kid that’s in danger. And every time he smiles, it just makes me so happy that I kind of want to giggle and—” Tim stops babbling. He doesn’t need to anymore, after basically answering his own question. Yes, he does like Jason Todd, the current Robin. As in, he has a crush on him. Tim falls back on his bed to stare up at the ceiling.

“Well,” he says, “that explains the weird, squirmy feeling I get in my stomach every time I imagine talking to him.” That feeling is always accompanied by a fierce blush and Tim hiding his face for a good two minutes. He thinks he probably should have caught on sooner. Deciding that was enough Realizing Things for the night, Tim quickly locks the picture of Robin up with the rest and collapses on his bed to sleep.

The next day – a Saturday, which is Mrs. Mac’s day off – Tim hops on the computer and starts researching. He has a crush on one boy, but Tim still thinks girls can be cool. Batgirl is pretty awesome, after all! After a few hours and a lot of new information, he settles back on his bed again. He’s bisexual, and sexuality can apparently be really fluid. In all honesty, it didn’t take him hours to find the term, he just fell into a rabbit hole of researching sexual orientation and gender identities. Tim’s fairly secure in his gender, but he’s glad to have learned. It’s something to keep in mind about other people – to not assume anything based on appearances.

He’s bisexual, with a crush on a boy, and his parents will still expect him to only date girls. At least the boy was Robin and completely unattainable.

- - -

Years later, Tim is laying on his bed, staring at the ceiling once again. It’s a different bed by now, in his own apartment at seventeen. The thing is, he’s pretty sure he has no interest in romance. And now his brain was mixing everything up in a tangle of thoughts and feelings again.

“Holding hands is nice,” he admits. “I like cuddling. That was fine.” He hasn’t gone further than making out with anyone, so that’s about the limit of his physical experience. It’s the implication of emotions that makes him want to skitter away. Specifically, emotions of the romantic variety. Now Tim’s reassessing every romantic relationship he’s had, though he’s only ever dated women.

At the time, he had thought he was happy while in each relationship, but… it’s becoming much more likely that it’s because he was previously starved for affection. He suddenly got that affection while dating someone. That thought makes him want to hide from everyone he’s ever dated. Stephanie is the only one he really still has to see, and that has him burrowing under his blankets.

It sounds awful, honestly. Like he was using the relationship to get the affection he so desperately wanted. Logically, he might be overthinking this. He just wishes his dumb brain would tell that to his anxiety and the ingrained societal expectations. “I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled into the blankets.

Romance, dating, being happy in a relationship? He has no other experiences to reference! He didn’t know that something wasn’t right.

Hell, he’s only having this Realization because a woman was flirting with him at a gala and asked if he would like to get dinner together sometime. A romantic dinner date with a woman he wasn’t close to. The entire scenario would be romance with no physical affection, and that didn’t sound pleasant in the slightest. It did, however, make him realize that he might need to think things through again.

So, here he is. Thinking things through. No romance – if he’s remembering his research correctly, the term is ‘aromantic’, similar to ‘asexual’. Asexuality was something he’d heard more about over the years, but he rarely heard of aromanticism. It had just stuck out because while the terms were similar, their meanings were pretty different.

Now he’s glad it stuck in his mind. It gives him less reason to panic about being confused. So, he was bisexual and aromantic. That’s fine! He’s a vigilante, romantic relationships would be difficult anyway.

- - -

A year and a half later, Tim’s fingers fly across the screen of his phone, sending text after text without waiting for a response. Either his friends would wake up or they wouldn’t. Hopefully they would.

Tim: Oh my god. Guys, wake up, I’m an idiot. Bart, Kon, please. I’m so dumb. How the hell am I this oblivious? I’m not bi-aro at all. I’m just fucking gay. It’s 5 am and I can’t sleep, and I just want a boyfriend. I want to do couple things, like cuddle up while watching movies.

Clone Trooper: dude, it’s the middle of the night. why do you do this to us?

Tim feels no sympathy for his friends – he’s been running on less than six hours of sleep for years. Sometimes less than four hours. High school and vigilantism don’t mix well. Anyway, they can deal with waking up to deal with his Realization.

Sonic: bro we cuddle up when we watch movies are we not good enough for you anymore

Tim: Yeah, but that’s platonic, Bart. And yes, I’m aware of the time. I’d like to be asleep too, but I’m lonely and sad and having Realizations! Suffer with me.

Clone Trooper: … suffer how? are you expecting us to have an existential crisis too, or is this just suffering by being awake?

Tim: Being awake. It’s not an existential crisis, it’s just a Realization.

Sonic: its the middle of the night i think it can be deemed an existential crisis

Tim: But seriously, someone please tell me how I jumped passed the logical conclusion I should have come to of “I’m just not attracted to women” and directly to “I have no interest in romance at all”? How did that make sense to me?

Sonic: society conditioned u to like women

Tim blinks at his screen. Bart isn’t wrong, but Tim has absolutely no idea where he’s going with that. He already had the Realization about societal conditioning, thanks.

Tim: Okay? I’m aware, but I’m not sure how that translates to how I didn’t think of the logical conclusion.

Sonic: dude. for years it was a fact – since you were a kid u were so conditioned that u should like women it was just a fact

Clone Trooper: think of it like this, tim: as far as you knew, you liked women. later, you figured out you like guys, but you still think you like women too.

Tim: We’ve established, yeah.

Clone Trooper: so, suddenly something is weird. the only really new thing is that there is romance involved. so that’s clearly gotta be the issue.

Oh. He stares so long the screen goes dark. He drops his phone on the bed and stares up at the ceiling, turning that over in his head. So. He jumped to not wanting romance because it was so deeply ingrained that he was supposed to like women? His exhausted brain seems to accept this explanation enough to calm the edge of self-recriminations.

Tim: That. Makes sense, I guess. But still, it really seems like I should’ve realized a while ago. Also, I’m kind of surprised that you aren’t teasing me for being oblivious.

Sonic: oh thats coming but teasing is saved for when u arent having a crisis

Clone Trooper: later, we’ll absolutely laugh about that jump in logic. but right now it’s too early and you’re already having A Time.

He’s not sure if he has wonderful friends or terrible friends. Tim suspects that he’s still going to hear about this in a few years. It’s the kind of thing they won’t let die for a while.

Tim: Fair enough.

Clone Trooper: great, glad we got that cleared up! now tim...

Tim: What?

Clone Trooper: please. GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP.

Snickering, Tim plugs his phone in and smothers his face in the pillow. He’s still lonely and he still wants to analyze every missed evidence over the years, but he’s also exhausted. The chat with his friends did get his brain to shut up enough that he might actually be able to sleep. He can rethink his entire life again after he wakes up.

#fanfiction #elyrey writes things #tim drake #kon-el #conner kent #bart allen #friendship #lgbtq themes #lgbtq character #self-discovery #coming out #pride month 2020 #dcu

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