mister knives from my sketchbook 🥰

ok I can't stop thinking about the jade winglet, here's my gender hcs for all of them

Moonwatcher - she/they (nonbinary)

I feel like this is fun bc rn (in canon) her gender is just "anxiety" but like,,, one day in the future she gets to actually play around with it

like she captures a very specific type of person I've met who you go "oh I mean I know she's gay but she's probably cis..." and then you have like one real convo and find out they're like not only nonbinary but better at it then you

I think she should get to be butch when she's older. I think she deserves being a) massive compared to her two twink boyfriends and b) gnc as shit

Kinkajou- any/all (genderfluid +transfem)

Kinkajou strikes me as being like. totally ambivalent to gender. Kinkajou changes her pronouns based on how the fruit he ate for breakfast makes him feel. Kinkajou is better than you

I think she was like staunchly using she/her for a while bc it just felt right and like changes pronouns situationally- Rainwing village is she/her, Jade Academy is any/all, close friends it varies, etc etc

Qibli- he/they (transmasc)

Qibli's just always kind of known who he is, and has been like. pretty contentedly in his corner for a while. I think it's like- a pillar of stability for him of like "at least I know I'm (x)"

Proximity to Moonwatcher puts the they/them in there bc I think it's nice when ppl get more comfortable so they start branching out a lil bit :> Qibli has like. guy who says "he/they" because he doesn't mind they/them and wants his friends to feel supported y'know

Winter- he/him (cis + gnc)

Look I feel bad making him one of like. two cis ppl at JMA but like I think it's funny if he's cis but inflicts a status effect of gender envy on every trans person in his proximity

guy who does makeup flawlessly because "it's fun" and decimates your sense of identity as you wonder why the fuck god gave these gifts to a man

extra funny for the fact that as a dragonet he gets offended by the implication he's pretty. he gets over it eventually I think

Turtle- she/her or he/she/they (transwoman/trans)

See here. Otherwise I think she's like trans and this could go in like. any fucking direction ngl

transmasc turtle??? hell yeah !!! transfem turtle??? hell yeah !!! gender is whatever Turtle has going on and god knows if she knows it

last egg to crack bc Turtle is immune to self reflection that isn't anxiety and self loathing

"Haha everyone hates how other people refer to them and their gender what do you mean? :)" (entire jade winglet: cringing with worry)

Umber- he/him (cis)

cis and a lil insecure about it but like. he's just nice :)

he's like experimented with pronouns and gender and found none of them really stuck so like. cis+. cis (extended dlc). you know what I mean I hope

gonna be honest I'm lost for him bc I genuinely forget he was there bc he peaced out so fast. justice for my boy I want to know more !!!!!

I could be persuaded for transman Umber ngl,,, it tempts me,,,,,,

Peril- she/her (trans woman)

On one hand I'm torn bc I think it almost doesn't make sense for her backstory BUT ON THE OTHER HAND the idea of Scarlet being supportive of Peril's identity and LITERALLY NOTHING ELSE is hysterical to me

though actually if we wanna get sad,,,, that 100% could be a manipulation tactic of Scarlet. "see I love you I even accept you" etc etc. now I just feel bad man

Peril's also in the same camp of Qibli of knowing this abt herself since she could think and being happy in it. She knows what she's about

BONUS:

Carnelian- she/they/he (transmasc)

Look butch can be a gender and sometimes you're a mean butch skywing idk what to tell you

wish she stayed alive bc her and Moon could've been legendary together. girl who will kill for you vs girl who desperately wants you to do anything else please we talked about this you can't solve your problems with murder

I think Carnelian's true gender is Skywing Patriot and idk how to put that in hc form but this is as best I've got

Hightower jumped

Recently, there was a fire at the largest multi-story apartment building in Florence, Alabama. It was on the 4th floor. One person died and one was seriously injured. The reason given was someone was smoking a cigarette too close to an auction tank and it exploded.

It was the largest thing that I can remember happening to the building since Hightower jumped. And he DID jump, or fell but contrary to whatever Lulu was telling at the time; I did not push him. Well, not that I remember. I have to admit though, things were kind of hazy that night. Let's get this story started.

Around 1982, Lucille Lowery moved to the top floor, the 14th, of Courtview Towers. It was new, maybe 3 years old then and was considered THE cosmopolitan place to live. The ONLY high rise in Florence! At the time I was making good money managing my daddy's rental and real estate business so I moved on the 12th floor. We were the queer version of the Jeffersons(Me) "Beans don't burn in the skillet" and Green Acres(Lucille) "I just adore a penthouse view". Of course, Lucille was on the top floor and considered socially over me but I viewed the east and her the west. I got sunrise, she got sunset. I overlooked the river and Wilson Dam so it was considered that I had the better view. My mother was impressed and went out and bought me new living room furniture and I had found a king-size platform waterbed. I was all set.

The queens were impressed. Sybil started coming by immediately after I moved in and even introduced me to one of her trashiest boyfriends, Terry Balentine. He was from what would be considered state line royalty. The Balentine name came from a long line of beer joint owners on the state line, bootleggers, car thieves, bank robbers and general outlaws. Terry's branch on the family tree was not as "prestigious" Mainly, drugs, drinking, fighting, breaking and entering and crimes of passion. What "trashy" outlaws do. Sybil had met him at the park and brought him up one night to show him off. He was rough trade gorgeous. He was 19years old with coal black hair and eyes, high cheekbones and a muscular body. Not lifting weight muscles, real country boy lifting cows muscles. Butch jobs: carrying loads of roofing shingles on his back and mixing cement MUSCLES! OHHH, I swoon just thinking about him! When we met, I threw everything I could think of at him. I bragged about my job and my new car (did he like Mustangs?) but knew to be careful around Sybil. "God help the sister who comes between me and my mister" was words the bitch lived by. I had a new set of radials on my car and truly did not want them slashed!

As I recall, the short time I lived there I really like living in "The Towers". I loved being able to run up to Lucille's to visit or drink or smoke. It was always yelled out at the door "Hon, got a cup of sugar?" We started calling each other Lucy and Ethel. Of course, I was Ethel. Her saying "Every Lucy needs an Ethel" has stuck with me all my life. And in my sitcom tv show life I have followed the pattern. I have always had a running sister. EXCEPT, I am LUCY!

Miss Lowery had already had several soiree's. These were the Van Pelts, the Tippers, Christine Collier, the artsy crowd, half of Trinity Episcopal church choir. The "upper crust" where only liquor was served but other novelties were available for the most daring. No trashy tricks invited along with no park cruisers. Queens allowed but they must be debutantes of the highest caliber. I had always been invited to all her party's but mainly filled the room just as furniture would and carried on very simple meaningless conversation until it was time to go. I was strictly filler. She was giving one the night in question.

This particular party was actually kind of dull. There was a quee call LuLu in attendance who was supposedly some third cousin or something of Miss Lowery. Her family came from the Leighton money same as Lucille's so she was one of the few younger queens allowed at the affairs. I had known her for awhile. We were not close but for some reason when I said goodnight at Lucille's she came with me down one floor to my apartment. Standing in the hall was Terry Balentine and some short boy I did not know. Yes, it had been a few weeks and of course I was getting with Terry on the side. He didn't care who he tricked with as long as the money was good you spent on him. A true hustler. Not a crackhead, or druggie a real bisexual who knew his craft and expected to be paid well for his services. Well, by Florence standards anyway. We didn't really have any rich old queens then, just closeted tricks who would pay as much as $100 to suck the right dick. I was never in that league but Terry didn't care. He liked me! My apartment was full of liquor and LULU had pot and poppers. As I recall, someone came over with some coke or maybe it was quaaludes. Anyway we all proceeded to get royally drunk and fucked up.

LULU knew better than to go for Terry so I told her in the kitchen to go for his friend. He had gone down the hall to the bathroom and I went into the living room with a drink for Terry and the next thing I know I hear the bedroom door close and lock. I went to the door and said "Look, whore this ain't a video booth, leave a quarter and make it quick" or some cute saying like that. We cut on MTV and started doing coke and smoking pot and snorting poppers and drinking and drinking and drinking and evidently we had sex because some time in the middle of the night, I got up off the floor, my pants were off and Terry was laying butt naked on the sofa. My mouth felt like the lower 40 acres so I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water,

The layout in these apartments is the kitchen is on the back wall next to the hallway. There is a large opening to a small dining room then on the far wall sliding glass doors to a small balcony with a high concrete wall. You can see all the way through from the kitchen. I looked out and there was the guy (LuLu's date or HIGHTOWER) as he would be nicknamed, sitting up on the ledge. I went to the sliding door and told him to get down he would fall. I walked back into the living room and woke up Terry to tell him to get his friend off the wall and when he went into the dining room there was nobody on the wall or balcony. I walked out on the balcony and looked down. The guy was laying on top of a roof used as a drive through. It was later determined that what saved him was this roof was constructed of steel beams with some kind of foam and tar in the middle of each square the medal beams form. He had landed perfectly in the middle!

Of course, all hell broke loose. Terry split, he had warrants. I woke up LuLu and we called 911. She kept asking me if I pushed him and I said no but it did seem like he wouldn't come down and I took his arm and told him not to fall. I went to the police station and told them what my muddled brain could remember. After all, I was still drunk and high! I think he broke an ankle or something, it was not serious, and when questioned it must have somehow got out that he was at a "queer" party so he made a statement that he did not know anyone at the party and the only reason he was there was because he was looking for a place to commit suicide and the door was open. He saw the ledge. It worked! It turned out he was about to go to state prison under the 3 strike rule but due to his mental state he got locked up in the local place for mentally ill patients, Riverbend. On a side note, as soon as he got out the state wanted to try him again so this time he climbed O'Neal bridge and threatened to jump: Sybil gave him the name "Hightower"

I moved out of Courtview probably the next month. I did keep slipping around with Terry Balentine until he went to Texas with one of his brothers and killed a guy in a gas station robbery. He was sentenced to the electric chair. Sybil called me up and said "Eva we are going to be prison widows" She knew all along.

There was a running joke about LuLu that nobody as far as I know would ever tell her to her face. "LuLu's got a killer booty, it drives her tricks to suicide"

This incident took place in probably 1982 or 1983 and is for the most part forgotten. Of the main characters alive, only me and Lu's killer ass remain!

hi, maybe you're tired about this kind of convie regarding hange's gender but i really need your opinion. is it that wrong if i consider hange as a she? istg i'm not anythingphobic, i'm just still stuck with female hange in anime. i stan aot since 2013 and felt just fine to open up about my preference in hange's gender but lately, considering hange as a she is like the most sinful thing in the whole planet and even being attacked and i don't know what to feel about it. 😩

Thank you for the ask anon! 

Lmao, I am tired of this discourse but I’ve kinda accepted that it’s never gonna end really so I’m still happy to give you my opinion about this again. 

I have written about it here.

Before I go into this long ramble again I’d like to clarify some terms which tend to pepper the discourse of gender, sexuality etc etc etc. 

Biological Sex: What genitalia where you born with? Either born male, female or with both genitalia. 

Gender: What do you identify as? CIS, Trans, Nonbinary etc.

Sexuality: Who are you attracted to? Homosexual, Heterosexual, Bisexual, Asexual, Pansexual etc. 

Gender roles: Where do you fall on the gradient? Feminine, Masculine etc. 

And the point of this is, the discourse on gender is soooo complicated. Like very complicated because Hange being interpreted as NB to some people only covers the question of gender. Like these do not cover every other facet of the gender sexuality discourse. 

Because everything up there is ‘mutually exclusive’ to a degree because everyone is so complex. Like you can take a random option in each of those, fit it together in our heads and you would still come up with a realistic person. Because that is how complex human beings are. I have friends who decided to get a boyfriend, realized they were trans, transitioned to male but had both boyfriends and girlfriends. I have a butch lesbian friend who dated a few guys then decided to date girls then decided to transition. You have me who literally tried everything on the sexuality spectrum, crushed on a few girls in high school, crushed on a few more girls in college, thought I was asexual for a while, fell in love with a guy and realized I love dick. 

You can actually have a biological male who identifies as nonbinary but is bisexual  but has feminine tendencies. 

And that’s why even I find it so confusing to address the issue of non binary Hange vs female Hange. Because they are not even in the same bracket. Like we can have a non binary female feminine bisexual Hange all at the same time if you think about it. 

If you have read all my fics and all of my meta about Hange, you would see that I refer to her as a ‘she,’ but at the same time, I do not portray Hange as overly feminine. I headcanon that Hange has tried dating women and I also head canon that Hange has female genitalia (yo, I write preggo Hange fics). She actually falls somewhere in the middle. And what makes the gender part so hard to consider is because usually whether someone decides to identify as CIS, NB or Trans is up to the person. 

And there are just so many other hcs I want to tackle as a fanfiction writer and as a Hange stan beyond her gender and that’s why I don’t really headcanon the whole discovery part because even as a kid, I have never been so particular about my gender. I know I’m a biologically a woman, I have feminine and masculine tendencies. I have loved both men and women. but gender just seemed like just a decision which I just didn’t want to think too hard about.

I mean where I live, my first language doesn’t have gender pronouns so I can avoid the whole discourse altogether by just using Tagalog. I’m the type of person who will just have this person think I’m a man all the way until they meet me because I just wanna get things done and I feel no need to correct people. My first crushes were all women, despite my being a woman and the first people I have ever loved were women and I didn’t want to decide whether I was bisexual, heterosexual, homosexual etc. yet because even teenage me just found it way too complex and too final and just went around saying I liked this girl or I liked this guy and generally because I’m that type of person, I don’t spend a lot of my time thinking about gender even in a fandom space unless somebody asks.   

And does it make me homophobic/LGBT-phobic etc etc for deciding to use ‘she’ and deciding to tackle questions about Hange beyond her gender? No. Like this conclusion is inherently flawed. I was hella gay for a huge point in my life. 99% of my crushes were women. Then there was this period where I didn’t enjoy romance The only guy irl I have ever crushed on is my current boyfriend. But even when I explored my own gender, sexuality, it was always an ‘in the back of my mind’ thing. I didn’t have huge personal metas about what exactly my gender was or where exactly I fall or what pronouns I prefer.

And nobody is obliged to look so deep into this discourse. The important thing is in real life, we respect people’s pronouns, we respect the names they want to go by and we respect people’s preferences (as long as they aren’t dangerously criminal.)

And the thing is, this isn’t even real life. This is a fandom space. And in a fandom space, everyone is literally interpreting characters however they want. We have people literally pairing off Levi with both men and women and technically we’re assuming Levi’s gender, sexuality etc. Sure it might diverge from canon but does that make our headcanon any less than the others? Like Levi’s sexuality has never been confirmed and technically we’re all just assuming what kind of person Levi would have wanted to fuck right? Like every yaoi pairing, every ship is just fans assuming someones gender, assuming someone’s sexuality. 

And sure people could argue, ‘Yams’ didn’t confirm her gender. But Yam’s didn’t confirm anyone’s sexuality either but here we are pairing Mikasa off with Annie then pairing Mikasa off with Eren. Like same energy with ships, are there ships which are inherently superior to others? And technically, I could headcanon Levi as a woman if I wanted to and no one could stop me. I mean sure let’s celebrate that some of our headcanon and preferences have been acknowledged but what battle are we trying to win here really. 

To answer your question, it is not wrong. Having any opinion and having whatever headcanon you have about any fandom in this space is not wrong.

Sure, Hange is a comfort character to many people for various reasons. Hange is a comfort character for me but Hange is not any single person’s comfort character. Hange is a gift to us by Yams to interpret and play with however we want. Hell, every other character we’ve ever grown to love was a gift to all of us by the author. And we can choose to hc them however we want. That is the magic of fandoms.

If I wanted to, I could make some eruri and ereri mpreg fics for the kicks, I could interpret Levi as every single gender, sexuality on the spectrum and it would be just as valid. I mean I won’t because I don’t jive with those headcanons or those types of ships but I would respect people who have those types of preferences.

This space is free for everyone. We can choose what we want to consume and we can choose how we want to interpret characters. 

The only responsibility we have as fans is to use the right warnings when we post shit and to respect everybody else’s preferences. 

What I would consider ‘sinful’ is just dropping some unnecessary hate into a place which is supposed to be our safe space or pushing an agenda or an opinion and being hateful about it in the process. Like sure, spread your agenda, spread your opinions and your headcanons but please be nice about it.

We’re all just sad people trying to survive in this crapsack world.

26&27 with Butch and BC?

26. “Do you ever think?” “27. I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

Okay I’ve never, at least I don’t think I have, written in 1st person perspective. So imma try it and you should all let me know what you think. If its good great if not be honest because I trust the opinions of you very much. 

----

This was bad, this was really bad. I thought the situation was under control, Blossom told me it was! But the pounding in my head was becoming too much. 

Of course right when I feel my brain pulsing, Bubbles loud ass had to belt out a sonic scream, in soprano none the less. My hands cup around my ears as the pounding increases. If I wanted to fly, I would be met with even more pain. 

Flying and headaches are a no go. 

From above I can see the monster stand and rush behind the building to be out of sight. 

“Hey Butters.” That voice. 

“Not fucking now Butch.” I scold and thankfully my head lets up. 

I don’t even have to turn to know hes wearing that shitty grin before waltzing his pansy ass over to me. “What ya doing?” He asks in such an annoying matter. Fucking asshole. 

I can only scoff. “Saving the day moron, now get lost.” I try to shoo him away but like a pesky bug, he won’t leave. 

“I know that dumb ass. Red sent me to get you. We got a new plan.” 

My eyes finally meet his. “New plan? Blossom didn’t-”

“Yeah don’t remind me. I’m not sure she even knows what I’m about to do.” His laugh was dark and my shoulders shuttered. 

“What are-HEY WHAT THE FUCK.” My scream is muffled as my body is jolted into the air and-did this bitch just throw me? I can feel the impact of the ground behind me as my head looks towards the sky. 

The stomping of the monsters feet vibrates through my body and my eyes widen as I understand now. Human bait. Fucking great. “Do you ever think?” I yelled as a shield activated just inches from my face allowing for the fire breath of the monster to not roast me alive. 

“Nope.” He smirks before hosting me up like some fucking rag doll, yeah my boyfriend was absolutely the kindest. 

So now my face is plastered into his chest and another shield encapsulates us like a bubble of steel. How come he got this cool ass power? Where was mine? Hello chemical X? Yeah thanks for giving everyone special powers but me, fucking douche bag. 

The claws scratch at the dome and I can just see the moment where we become cat posts for the overgrown lizard. I may have super powers but I don’t trust this plan, especially since it didn’t come from leader girl. Brick might rival her in almost everything but she had the title of commander and leader for a reason, not his dumb ass. 

“Butch.” I try to reason with a growl. Maybe he’ll drop it so we can get out of here and just blast the son of a bitch but he doesn’t listen but tightens his hold on me. 

“Relax” And in a flash the shield disappeared and reformed smaller around us, barely saving us from another claw. 

This death grip on me doesn’t allow me to get away and even if i could, I wouldn’t be able to tear down the electric green force field.“ I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

Above us i hear another crash come down on the shield. The impact made it bubble and I heard his breath hitch. “Just shut up woman. We are not gonna die so quit bitching” He scolds me as if im not the one whose gonna die first if the thing were to fall. 

I can heard the scream of Bubbles again and my head goes back to a violent pounding. I can also hear Blossom scolding the fucking shit out of Brick as they attack he monster while its still occupied with the hamster ball bait that is us. 

“Your hair smells good.” 

“Fucking creep.”

“um yeah i think I can say that about my girlfriend ass wipe.” 

“Well you smell like shit.” Lies. He smelt like fresh pine but he didn’t need an ego stroke, not when we are being useless due to him. 

He lets out a chuckle and I only roll my eyes and don’t even try to wiggle out of his grasp. Its a little comforting knowing that I had the person I trusted most by my side in times like this. 

“They are almost done.” He says and I forget that the only view I have is of him. His face is stern as he focuses on the monster and yeah know, not killing us. One of his arms is stretched to the side to keep the force up and I wonder what it would feel like to have that sort of power at my disposal. 

“Remind me why we were bait and not the blues?” It really wasn’t fair. Bubbles secretly loved being the bait. The way she flew faster than anyone was kinda cool and she had always loved tag as a child. 

“Because Boomer isn’t fire proof and neither is Goldilocks.” And with that another flame of fire hits the surface followed by Blossoms ice and a loud crash. 

It makes sense and soon I feel the breeze hit my back and I never noticed how stuffy it was inside. Butch still has a hold on me before pressing a small kiss to my lips. “See. I wouldn’t let ya die babe.” He winks and I wanna hide my smile but I can’t.

“Yeah whatever.” I lightly smack his arm before he finally releases me. “Still sucks we couldn’t do anything, or at least I couldn’t” 

He wants to respond but before his mouth can open a large pink blast sends him flying into the nearest building with a loud crash.  

“DO NOT EVER DO THAT AGAIN BUTCH!” Blossom yells before turning towards me and grabbing my cheeks. “Oh Buttercup I’m so sorry, someone.” She glares at her boyfriend who is sitting on the sidewalk pouting next to his blue eyed brother who looks like he is gonna cry, poor dude. “Decided to use you as bait and I for one did not agree because you could of just smashed that monster and we could have been done with it.” 

I bit back a laugh before hugging her. “Its okay Pink, you saved the day so all is well.” She huffs and nods. 

“I guess so but it was still dumb. I am surprised you didn’t try to kill Butch.” 

I looked towards where she sent him flying and he finally stands up from the rubble with a thumbs up and I laugh out loud this time. “Yeah but I trust him. Now Im going to go see if he’s alright and maybe you should deal with your puppy dog.”

Blossom smiles softly before turning. “I’m just happy you’re okay.” 

“Me too.” And I mange to get to my boyfriend who is leaning against the rubble. 

“Sup babe.” He has a cut on his forehead and I swipe away the blood. 

“Looks like you got a good beating.”

“At this point I don’t know who the real monster is.”

“I HEARD THAT!” Blossom yells from fifteen feet away. 

“GOOD!” He yells back with a smile. “I’m her favorite.” 

I snort before he throws an arm around me. “Well Boomers my favorite.” I joke. 

“THANK YOU.” We hear Boomer shout before Blossom tells him he is still on time out and not even Bubbles puppy eyes can make her reconsider. 

We both laugh. ‘So wanna go get a milkshake?” He asks. 

“Sounds good as long as you never use me as bait again.” 

“no promises.”

“Ass wipe.”

“Bitch” 

“i love you.”

“I love you too.” 

-----

Hi heres me never writing 1st perspective ever again cause its TRASH!!!! Also i think they would be in high school or maybe 19 in this? idk your choice but anon im sorry if this was trash. 

all the gay questions

Thanks friend, here we go.

1. Name one way you break the wlw stereotype. (Fat, trans, poc, autistic, etc)

I don’t know if it’s really breaking a stereotype but I consider myself spiritual. I pray and I feel like when I bring that up to someone that they’re unfortunately “surprised”. 

2. Who was the first girl you remember having feelings for?

She was in my fifth grade class and she had heelys. We were really good friends and I thought she was the coolest. (We both grew up and later came out as gay and she’s super happy and I’m super happy for her.)

3. What’s your opinion on the butch/femme labels? Do you think they’re harmful?

I think that labels can be harmful for some people and extremely helpful for others. I’m one of the people that feel helped by labels. Sometimes those particular labels can be annoying, but if they work for you then that’s great.

4. Do you have a girlfriend?

Yes. I have a loving fiancée that I’ve been with for a while now. She is the peanut butter to to my jelly, the sun poking through the clouds on a rainy day, the moon, the stars - all of it. Hi @remuspolaris <3

5. Define love in 5 words or less

Understanding, teamwork, friendship, illuminating, patience

6. What characteristics do you look for in a girl?

I’d always (back when I did look) wanted someone who has a really good sense of humor, understanding, similar interests and most importantly, someone I could have a friendship with. I feel strongly that your partner shouldn’t just be your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, but your best friend, too.

7. Do you participate in LGBTQ clubs and events?

I used to participate pride. I went to pride three years in a row in my hometown and would go again once it’s safe.

8. Are you out to anyone outside of tumblr?

Pretty much everyone. A few of the co-workers I talked to at my last job didn’t outright know because I worked in a highly conservative environment. 

9. Say some things you love about your crush/girlfriend?

I love her extra snuggles in the morning, I love how warm she is, I love that even when I’m feeling crazy or anxious or whatever it is that she still loves me and cares about me. I love that she cares about me as much as I care about her. I love that she doesn’t make me feel so alone in life. I love doing things with her.

10. Do you want to get married?

Yes, it’s on the gay agenda. I don’t know when it’s happening just yet, but I have an engagement ring on my finger. 

11. Do you want to have kids?

Yes. I’m not ready for them yet, emotionally or financially but it’s been a dream of mine for a long time to have children. Being with someone that is good with kids/babies and wants them too makes all of that a lot more appealing.

12. How would you describe the difference between sun lesbians and moon lesbians?

Like @welshdragonrawr said, sun lesbians feel like ABBA and moon lesbians are Fleetwood Mac/Stevie. 

13. What’s your favorite song about lesbians?

“She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert. The first wlw song I ever heard.

14. What’s your favorite book about lesbians?

My favorite fictional one is probably “Annie on My Mind” by Nancy Garden. It didn’t have a bad ending and at the time I read it it mirrored the kind of relationship I wanted someday. 

15. Who’s your favorite lesbian character?

Since she isn’t canonically wlw or lesbian I can’t say Cordelia Goode and that hurts me, so I’m going to have to go with Alex Vause from Orange Is the New Black.

16. If you live in a country where gay marriage is legal, where were you when it was legalized? Did you do anything to celebrate?!

I was in my living room and I woke up to @mightthxnktwice happily yelling to me about it.

17. If you could meet one famous wlw (dead or alive) who would you pick?

Sarah Paulson, Sarah Paulson, Sarah Paulson.

18. Have you ever kissed a girl?

Yes.

19. Do you have any favorite wlw positivity blogs?

@wholesome-gf-memes-uwu

20. Who was your first real life crush? (as in not Dana Scully or Jessica Rabbit)

See the above answer about first crush.

21. What is one thing you think your school/ place of work could do to create a safe environment for LGBTQ people

I don’t really think they could do anything. My previous job could’ve made sure that others didn’t spread homophobic comments with others.

22. Have you ever been to a gay bar?

Yes.

23. Do you know a lot of LGBTQ people outside of the Internet

I know some, I wouldn’t say a ton - and the ones I do know I met through the internet.

24. Describe your ideal gaycation (a vacation that you, a gay, go on)

Disneyland. Just a long expected stay at Disneyland, maybe during Gay Days.

25. Not a question, I just want you to know that you’re amazing and beautiful and I love you. Keep up the good work.

Thanks friend.

Pride: Alternate Take (Tommy x Nikki)

Title: Pride: Alternate Take

Summary: Requested by @sharon6713. Picks up where Tommy’s leaving the house.

Warnings:  Homophobia, depression, suicide attempt, language, but it does get sweet I promise.

Tommy took a deep breath and made his way out the door. The street was quiet. Their neighborhood was a lot better than the one that they started out in next to the Whiskey. There weren’t wild parties going on between the hours of 10 pm and 3 am every day. Things were so calm and peaceful. And sometimes Tommy ached for the old days.

He secured his bag onto his bike and took a deep breath. He knew his parents wouldn’t miss him. Nikki would at first, but he’d move on eventually. Vince and Mick would have a moment of silence before they went to find a new drummer. That was one thing Tommy always thought about himself. He was replaceable, no matter how much people said he wasn’t. They could find another drummer quickly. Nikki could move on and have a new family.

To Tommy, he was just a placeholder for the real thing.

He got on his bike and took off down the street, heading towards the High Desert Motel.

Two minutes after Tommy had left, Nikki pulled into the driveway. He had had a feeling in his gut that he was needed at home. But traffic and stop lights had delayed him. He made his way inside.

“Tommy?” Nikki called out as he made his way inside. The house was silent. That made Nikki feel sick to his stomach. Of course, Tommy might be at therapy, but something in the back of his mind told him that was not the case. He checked the music room, bathroom, kitchen (that one hurt a little to do) and every place else he could think of before he headed to their bedroom. He looked around. Nothing seemed off at first.

Until he looked at his nightstand where he kept his gun and saw the drawer was open. Rushing over to it, he dug around. The extra ammo was there (Nikki had never really learned proper gun etiquette), but no pistol. Nikki looked around the room, eyes wide, when it landed on a piece of paper on his pillow. Shakily, Nikki reached out and picked it up.

Nikki,

Let me start off by saying that I love you, and this isn’t your fault. I’ve tried for so long to make myself be the person everyone wants me to be, and I can’t do it anymore. By the time you read this, I’ll probably be gone. I checked into the Desert High Motel and I used your old name. I’m not sure which room I got. I took your gun with me, I hope you don’t mind. There’s plenty of better musicians out there who could take over the drums so Motley Crue doesn’t have to stop partying. I heard Randy Castillo is pretty good…

Anyway, I’ve got to go. I love you Nikki. I’m sorry that you wasted so much time on me.

T-Bone

“No!” Nikki tossed down the paper and ran back into the living area. He wasn’t sure where the Desert High Motel was, honestly. He grabbed the phonebook and scanned through it. Someday, he was going to break down and get internet installed in the house. Might make things quicker. But right now, he didn’t have time for that.

“Joshua Tree. That’s two hours from here!” Nikki’s hands were still shaking as he tossed the book down and headed back out to his Porsche. He was debating on calling the cops, but what if that just spooked Tommy even more. He could call Vince and have him head out there. He loved racing his car and probably knew all the shortcuts. But Nikki didn’t. Instead, he got on the I-10 and pointed his car towards Joshua Tree.

****

Vince might have been a racer, but Tommy was good at using his bike. What would’ve been a two hour trip, he cut down quite a bit by backroads and going ten or twenty over the speed limit. He didn’t care if he ended up wrapped around a pole in a non stripper way. He pulled up at the office, cash in hand, ready to pay for his room.

“Name?” The old lady at the desk asked.

“Uh F-Frank Feranna,” Tommy told her. She nodded and got the keys for him, took his cash, and pointed him in the right direction.

“You look familiar,” She told him before he left. “Are you someone famous?”

“For all the wrong reasons,” Was all he told her before he got back on his bike and drove down towards his room. He carried his bag in and tossed it on a chair. He closed his eyes for a second before looking around the room. It wasn’t as extravagant as the hotels they had stayed in before were. But it was going to do the trick. He went back to the bag and pulled out the gun, setting it on the bed while he paced and just stared at it.

“Do I want to do this?” Tommy asked. “Do I really want to leave Nikki all alone?”

‘Maybe he’ll get back with Brandi. Or that Donna chick the papers thought he was seeing back when the two of you got together,’ The voice taunted him. ‘I bet he likes her company better anyway.’

“Fuck!” Tommy cried out as he pulled at his hair. Why couldn’t he be stronger than this? Nikki had overcome addiction, which was a lot harder, in Tommy’s opinion. So why couldn’t he deal with his demons? Why did he still let his dad’s words cut him so deep? Why couldn’t he just force himself to be happy for once?

But, worst of all, why was he so willing to let Nikki, Vince, and Mick be unhappy with him? Why was he so willing to let them watch him like this? Why couldn’t he just let go so they could move on?

That’s when Tommy reached for the gun.

****

“Come on, come on,” Nikki was so close to Joshua Tree. He was sure that he had broken every driving rule California had to offer, but he really couldn’t care. His heart had steadily been beating faster since he left the house, and the minute things started to thin out and become more desert like, Nikki was sure you could see his heart beating out of his chest like those old Looney Tunes cartoons.

Joshua Tree was right there in front of him. And it didn’t take too long to find the motel. He pulled in, ready to go to the office to ask which room Frank Feranna, of all names he had to pick that one, was in. But that’s when he spied an all too familiar bike, parked in front of a room on the end. Nikki parked by it and took a deep breath, preparing himself for what he might find there. He finally got himself out of his car and walked towards the room he hoped was Tommy’s. His legs felt heavy as he approached the door.

Taking another deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked.

****

Tommy was staring at the gun in his hand. He had heard of people killing themselves with guns, but he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to position it. He was about to lift it to his head when there was a knock at the door. Tommy almost ignored it, thinking it was just the wrong person, because no one would be looking for him. But they knocked again. With a sigh, Tommy laid the gun down and went to the door.

As it opened, the last person he expected to see was Nikki standing there. But he was.

“N-Nikki,” Tommy’s eyes were wide.

“You’re surprised to see me,” Nikki pushed his way into the room. “Didn’t think I’d find your note until after you’d already been dead a few hours, didn’t you?”

“Nikki…” Was all Tommy could say. Nikki’s eyes fell on the gun laying on the bed before he turned to look at the drummer.

“What the hell are you thinking Tommy?” Nikki asked. “Is this because some asshole with a camera thought he could show off our lives? You want to take your own life because of that?”

“That’s not…” Tommy shook his head. “It’s not the only thing…”

“Then what is it huh? Do you hate me that much that you’d rather kill yourself than be with me? Are you that ashamed of us?”

“No!” Tommy yelled. Nikki had not expected that reaction. “I’m not ashamed of you or us. It’s me okay!”

“What are you talking about?” Nikki asked. “Tommy…”

“My dad has installed this idea in my head that I should be ashamed of who I am, okay?”  Tommy sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. It took Nikki a second before he put things together.

“That wasn’t your therapist on the phone, was it?” He asked. Tommy shook his head. “It was your dad?”

“Y-yeah…” Tommy whispered. “I didn’t think he’d call me. I’ve moved around so much since the last time I talked to him.”

“What did he say to you?” Nikki asked, moving to sit by Tommy.

“R-remember how I told you guys that my dad kicked me out because I wanted to quit school to join a band?” Tommy asked. Nikki nodded. “Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate.”

“What did he do to you?” Nikki asked, remembering the revolving door of step dads and boyfriends who liked to smack him around while his mother watched.

“I...when I was just a teenager, I kissed a boy from school,” Tommy told him. “I didn’t think anything of it. I thought he was cute, he thought I was cute, he just wanted to try it out. I had known for a little while that I liked boys. But, what I didn’t realize was my dad...he had seen us. He didn’t say anything until...until I told him and my mom that I wanted to quit school to spend more time working on the band with you, Vince, and Mick…”

“Tommy…” Nikki whispered, reaching out to cup his face and brush some tears away.

“His exact words to me were “is it because you’re a faggot?”.” Tommy told Nikki. “I was really confused until he told me he had seen me that night. I...we got into a fight and that’s when I showed up on your doorstep with a couple bags.”

“You could’ve told me baby,” Nikki told him, keeping contact because it seemed to calm Tommy some. “Back then though, I probably would’ve killed your dad. No one fucked with my favorite drummer.” He smirked a little.

“I just...I didn’t want you guys disgusted with me.” Tommy told him. Nikki frowned. “I heard the things that were said on the strip about guys like me. It was bad enough wearing the makeup and getting called names. Could you imagine what it would be like if people found out? Being gay, or bisexual, or whatever the fuck I am, it wasn’t exactly a cool and trendy thing. It was mainly stripped down to stereotypical, feminine men and butch women, waving rainbows and living in San Francisco. That’s not me...”

Nikki pulled Tommy to him. Tommy’s head rested in the curve of his neck and he just let himself melt into Nikki’s side. Nikki held him close. He had been so scared that he was going to walk into the room and find that he had really lost Tommy this time.

“Baby, you know I love you. I always love you. No matter what you do. You could braid your hair into cornrows and sing rap and I’d still love you.” Nikki rubbed his back.

“Then why can’t my parents?” Tommy asked softly into his neck. “Why can’t my dad love me for who I am?”

“I wish I had an answer for you sweetie,” Nikki held him close. “But I don’t exactly have a good relationship with either of my parents. And I know that you were really close to yours growing up. I wish I could tell you everything will be okay, that they’ll see their mistakes and realize that you’re happy, but I can tell you that I love you, and I’m here for you no matter what happens.”

“You deserve a better fiancé than me,” Tommy whispered. “You’re too good for me.”

“We both have been dealt shitty hands in life. I think this is the universe's way of saying sorry. It brought us together.” Nikki tilted Tommy’s head up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. When they pulled apart, Nikki offered Tommy a comforting smile. “Do you want to go home?”

“Yeah,” Tommy nodded, not really wanting to move away from Nikki but he had rode his bike here, and he didn’t really want to leave it.

“We’ll go home and have that date I  talked about earlier,” Nikki told him. “Just you and me. No one else.”

“That sounds perfect,” Tommy nodded. “I have a lot of making up to do.”

“No,” Nikki took his hand and pulled Tommy to his feet. “I’m here to catch you when you fall. Don’t ever forget that.” He kissed  Tommy again before they got Tommy’s stuff and left the motel room behind.

Forever Tags:  @anathewierdo @dekahg @marvel-af-imagines @feelmyroarrrr @nanie5 @imboredsueme @gemini0410 @aiaranradnay @babypink224221 @mogarukes @xxwarhawk @sandlee44 @shatteredabby @caswinchester2000 @supernaturalwincestsblog @lauravic @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @teller258316

Motley Crue Tags:  @primal-screamer @waywardprincess666 @twistnet @saint-of-los-angeles @vader-kai @motleyfuckingcruee @sharon6713 @kawennote09 @2dead2function @nikkisixxwiththebass @flamencodiva @iamtiber-andtiberismusic @jayprettymuchomw

Promises

(gif not mine, credit to owner)

Carl Grimes X Reader

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff? idk

Summary: The reader and Carl have been best friends since the beginning of the end. It was only a matter of time before one fell for the other, or they both fell for each other.

You caught Carl Grimes attention the moment Rick brought you through the gates of the prison. Your y/h/c hair was tied back in boxer braids, stray strands sticking out all over the place due to your time on the move. dirt caked your face which in the end only made your y/e/c eyes even bolder. Rick held your weapons in his hands, still unsure if the group could trust you or not. He was being cautious, you understood that. Carl had been standing just within the entrance of the prison, holding his three week old sister in his arms. Usually when the group came across new people they were weary and alert, but something about you was different. One look at you and he knew he could trust you. He couldn't explain it. 

Needless to say, The young Grimes instincts turned out to be right. You became a valued member of the group at the prison. You helped take care of Judith, you were one of the best when it came to quick supply runs, and to add onto that you were extremely skilled when it came to weapons. 

It didn't take long for you and Carl to become attached at the hip. Carl and y/n. y/n and Carl. The dynamic duo, partners in crime, Butch and Sundance, Calvin and Hobbes, Thelma and Louise, Rocky and Bullwinkle. You two were the ultimate duo. When the people from Woodbury moved into the prison the two of you desperately tried to desperate from the group of helpless children who now occupied the compound. So your time was spent mostly patrolling the outer fences or helping Rick garden. 

During the time that the deadly sickness was spreading through the prison, the western fence collapsed, sending dozens of walkers into the prison. You, Carl, and Rick cut down and shot every reanimated corpse in your path. You didn't realize your changing feelings for Carl until the last walker hit the ground and he kissed you right on the lips, thus propelling you into a crush on your best friend. 

You stayed quiet about it for years, pushing those feelings to the back of your mind because, lets be honest, there were bigger things to worry about. But once you found Alexandria something in your dynamic shifted. It was a good shift though. . .

*             *               *                *                 *

You tapped your foot impatiently as you stood at the closed gates of Alexandria. Carl and Michonne were supposed to be back any minute now, yet you were starting to grow worried.

“Y/n! Open the gates, they’re back!” Rosita’s voice echoed down from the platform across the street from where you stood. You quickly let out a sigh of relief, rushing forward to open the large gate. A smile immediately spreading across your face as the car rolled into the safe zone. Quickly closing the gates behind them you crossed your arms, striding towards the figure sliding out of the passenger seat. 

“Okay Grimes, what do you have for me?” You smirked, walking up to the blue eyed boy. You watched as he rolled his eye, before ducking back into the car to grab something. A moment later he was tossing the unknown object over to you with a similar smirk. You caught it quickly, looking down at what was in your hands your smile widened.

“No way. . .” 

“Yes way.” Carl laughed, tucking his hands back into his pockets and walking over to you.

“Where did you even find this?” You questioned, turning over the object in your hands to make sure what you were actually seeing was in fact real. Gripped tightly in your calloused hands was an unscathed, unopened bottle of Coca-cola. It was the one item you constantly looked for when you went on supply runs. 

“ An old factory a few miles north. There was a tipped over vending machine in one of the hallways. Had to fight a few dozen walkers to get it.”

Your smile fell as you looked back up at Carl.

“I told you not to risk your life to get me anything.” Carl shrugged his shoulders, looking at you with a soft expression.

“I had to. You brought me back that record a few weeks ago.”

It had become a tradition whenever you or Carl went out on runs. It was like a little game- maybe a promise even. If one of you was going on a supply run, you had to bring something back for the other. Weather that be half of a smiley face eraser or a license plate. The intention was that if they were bringing back an object, they would come back along with it. 

“Okay, fine.” You twisted the metal cap off of the bottle, shoving it into your back pocket.”But your sharing this with me.” 

“Its yours, take it.”

“Carl Grimes, you deserve half of this for going through the trouble of getting it.”

He knew there was no point in fighting you, so he surrendered, following you as you walked down the street towards home.

“Where are we going now?”

You raised an eyebrow in surprise, turning to your best friend.

“Your insane if you think im drinking this thing warm. The only proper way to drink this is with ice.”

The two of you soon found yourselves leaning against the kitchen island, chilled glasses resting next to your hands. It was one of those moments where you found yourself desperately wanting to turn to the boy next to you and tell him how you felt. How you liked him more than a friend- much more in fact. You turned to look at him for a moment. His one good eye was closed, letting the sun filter through the window and onto his face. He looked peaceful. Content. You knew it wouldn't last though. In the world that you were living in peace never lasted too long. It was that though that gave you that last ounce of courage you needed to speak.

“Carl, I need to tell you something.” You spoke- breaking the comfortable silence. Carl opened his eye, turning to you in worry.

“What happened?”

“Nothing! Nothing happened, its just something that I have been meaning to tell you for awhile now.” You looked down at the tiled floor, fidgeting with your hands. You fell silent again- worry consuming your thoughts. “Okay- so what are you going to tell me?”

“I have a big, fat crush on you Carl Grimes.” Your eyes widened as the realization of what just came out of your mouth sank in. “Now I totally get it and understand if you don’t like me that way, but I just needed to get that off my chest.” Before you could continue you were stopped by Carl.

“Your joking right? About thinking I don’t like you back?” He chuckled, turning his body towards you. You squinted your eyes in confusion, not knowing how to answer.

“No. . .?” You questioned slowly, not sure where this was going.

“Do you not remember at all what I said to you back at the prison?” He smiled again in amusement. Your eyes widened as the memory came back to you. This whole time you thought it didn’t mean a thing. How dumb could you possibly be?! You mentally slapped yourself.

“I though you were joking!” You raised your voice in surprise, eyes somehow widening even more.

“Why?! Why would I be joking?! It was the end of the world!- Hell it still is!” The both of you were in a mutual state of confusion and shock. Just two dumb ass, oblivious best friends who were completely head over heels in love with each other. Before you could retaliate, Carl was grabbing your face and pressing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. Your eyes widening for a moment before fluttering shut and melting into the kiss. After another moment, he pulled away, the faintest hint of a smile dancing across his lips.

“I’m going to be ding that a lot more- if you don’t mind.”

“Hell- i’m not stopping you.” You smirked, wiping his bangs away from his face.

“Good.”

*                    *                    *                    *                    *

And so the ultimate power couple was forged in a world gone sour. Some things changed in your dynamic, but many stayed the same. You still brought Carl junk and trinkets from your supply runs, and he did as well. The amount of flirting had risen though, and greetings and goodbyes always ended or began in kisses, and terrible pick-up lines were thrown left and right just for amusement and to get the other person to cringe. In other words- you were just two love-sick idiots living in a world ruled by the dead. It was like that for awhile- probably around the time span of a year before Carl threw another curve-ball at you.

Like always, you found yourself checking the time on your watch again, waiting for Carl and his dad to return from their current supply run. You were not on gate duty this time, so when you head the gentle hum of an engine entering Alexandria, you began your trek down the street towards the gates. When you saw the figures of Carl and Rick you rushed forward, pulling them each into an embrace.

“Glad your back. I was starting to worry.” You chuckled.  “You don’t need to worry Y/N. It was just a quick run to Hilltop.” Rick countered, resting a hand on his Sons shoulder.

“I cant help it. I’m a worrier.” You chuckled, turning back to Carl and holding out your hand to accept whatever trinket your boyfriend had brought back for you.

“Hand it over Grimes.” You watched Carls facial expression shift from amused to more serious. But not the kind of serious that would have you concerned. It was softer. He gently took your hand before using his other to reach into his pocket, he then pressed the small object into your palm, closing your fingers around it. As his hands fell back to his sides, you opened your hand to reveal a small, simple ring- cast from iron. Your eyes widened as you looked up at Rick and then to Carl himself.

“Carl Grimes-” You began, - but were cut off by him.

“We’re both 18 now arn’t we? Or somewhere around that age at least right?” He lightly titled his head, a smile gracing his features. Meanwhile Rick stood to the side- a confused, and amused expression on his face.

“You two mind telling me whats going on?” He questioned lightly, crossing his arms. Your eyes went back to Carl as you softly chuckled.

“We should probably tell him. . .”

“Probably a good idea.” Carl nodded. The two of you turning to look at Rick. Carl spoke to his father first.

“Back at the prison, the night where the walkers broke through the fence. . .” He stopped for a moment, waiting for Rick to show that he remembered what he was talking about.” I Kissed Y/N. It was a heat of the moment decision. All the walkers were dead and she had completely blown my mind. - So I kissed her, and I asked her to marry me. I was a kid who had a crush.” You watched an amused smile spread across Ricks face as he chuckled, crossing his arms.

“Is that so?”

“Oh yep! Your reckless, stubborn son did in fact ask me to marry me when we were 14 years old.” You laughed lightly, turning to look at Carl.

“Of course he did.” Rick spoke, massaging his temple, a smile still on his lips.

“I said to him: “Oh Carl, we’re too young. Ask me again when we’re 18 and Ill say yes.” I didn’t find out until about a year ago that he actually meant it.” You added, looking back down at the small ring in your hand.

“So I wanted to follow through with my promise.” Carl spoke up, looking at the smile on his fathers face.

“Michonne is going to get a kick out of this.” Rick laughed. “But I’m not gonna stop the two of you.” He shouldered his duffel bag, still laughing. “Ill meet you two at the house.” And with that he walked off, leaving you and Carl to walk home together. You slipped the small band onto your finger, admiring the simplicity of it.

“Where did you even find this?” 

“I didn’t. I asked the blacksmith at Hilltop to make it.” Carl took hold of your hand, watching your features soften even more. You shook your head in disbelief.

“You never cease to amaze me Grimes.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too Cowboy.”

A/N: This is longer than my normal pieces and it took me forever, but I had this idea awhile back. I hope you guys like it.

Behold, my sketchbook is full

And that means the dreaded sketchbook highlight reel I’ve been telling y’all about!!

This is gonna be a doozy, so look at your own risk jkslfjkafjdskals  

Page 1 of the sketchbook, late junior/early senior year of high school

A demonstration of what I was actually capable of at one point if I used effort and a reference 

The reference I used (Linda Ravenscroft 2011 calendar. Yes I still have a calendar from 2011 in my closet don’t judge me it was an eventful year and I want to have some record of it)

Early early EARLY Mark design. I didn’t even have his name down yet

An old OC design. Her name is/was Femi. She’s kinda faded out of use, but a lot of Jasper was inspired by and/or recycled from Femi

18 year old me: *casually draws what are still two of my favorite designs vibe-wise while paying 0 attention and drawing with nothing but GODDAMN PENS

You remember old Mark design? Say hello to old Georgie designs. I don’t remember when I made the call to make her a woman, but Georgie was a dude for quite a while also why did I drop the eyebrow piercings and tattoos because tattoos + piercings + butch lesbian = !!!HM NICE

Gregory design page. The actual look is still about right, which surprises me. Say hello to Jasper’s ex-boyfriend, everyone!! Don’t let his resting bitch face scare you

I can’t believe that I managed to draw cargo pants what was this witchcraft? (Another old OC design)

18 year old me: I’m totally straight

18 year old me: I’m going to draw the most beautiful OC I’ve ever created

18 year old me: *draws this*

Anyways I’m amazed Rey was my gay awakening when Lilith Shaw (above OC) existed

Hiroki and Georgies. First real attempted drawings after The Great Drawing Break (so, probably around summer 2018). Three years without drawing. I had to use reference pictures for literally all of these because I couldn’t draw anything. I’m pretty sure this is the first art I posted on tumblr too, so this one has a special soft spot in my heart

First page where I decided to go “you know what I’m never going to learn if I don’t cut loose” and promptly unleashed a whole bunch of visual bullshit. I had the time of my life doing it, too

Also yes, that does say “Gremlin Candace” and no, I don’t know what Gremlin Candace is hitting with her sword. It looks like a pine tree with eyes and I refuse to question whatever creative thought process made that decision because i had a good time

Some pages in, things were looking up. I still like that picture of Hiroki (the sad one with the long hair). I like the melancholic feel it has

Susan and Hiroki character designs, featuring Gay Fear as theirself and my really messily written Kanji

I still love this merm she’s so frikkin cute. Also with the new year, I decided to start dating my works so I could better track progress. You can see the 1/2/19 in the corner

Obtain a helper with taking pictures of sketchbook pages, and the page without a kitty helper demanding attention

Experiments with a shark mermaid design and stylized curly hair

The face in the middle is one of my mom’s favorites. I’m super proud of the hair. Also the eel creature became a bit of a muse of mine for a while i would draw him and his friends everywhere

I think I have a hidden gift called Dumb Luck With Pens When Not Paying Attention because a bored doodle page using a single black pen ended up creating the second best rendition of Forest ever created (the best was on my friend’s art tablet, and I accidentally deleted it so it’s lost forever. The linework wasn’t that different, but it was in color so you could really get a better feel for his essence/aesthetic)

There’s a super cute merm, a couple Lup fanarts, a Hiroki (plus the characters/Kanji I changed his name to), and a self portrait of me in the lower-right corner!! Guest starring: Still-Life Toilet Paper

I saw one (1) how to draw smooching thing on the tumblr and went absolutely wild don’t judge me no I did not almost cry drawing the Aaron/Hiroki kiss shut up

One of my favorite things I’ve drawn since the art break

More sketch things. Trying to get a hang of this whole drawing legs idea, and what better way to do that than start with low-stake stick people? Plus a merm couple and an attempted Taako because I have no self control

Final page in my sketchbook. Crammed to the brim because I didn’t have a new one lined up yet and was on a roll. My art’s definitely messier than it used to be, but I can see where I’m going and I like the direction

BLOOD IN THE WATER

summary: “I think we’re all going to have do some pretty terrible things,” Eddie said quietly. His hand came to wrap in Richie’s shirt, trying to burn out the violent grip of his father’s from earlier. “None of us have a choice in anything anymore. Whatever happened at Greta’s tonight-“ Eddie’s voice broke and he felt Richie press a kiss into his hair. “There isn’t a good and a bad anymore. There’s just die or don’t.”

[or: after the gruesome murder of his younger brother, Bill Denbrough is determined to bring about the end of the string of crimes in Derry no matter the cost. As stories unwind and fall apart, there’s only more questions as everybody’s lives hang in the balance.]

chapter count: 16/21

Taglist: @honkhonkrichard @hufflepuffkaspbrak @emmieliabedelia @reddie-for-anything @reddiesetrichie@beepbeepbitchard @lemonadeandrice @mirandosky @vanilluna @fivxharmony

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Bill Denbrough stared blankly as the episode of American Vandal continued playing in the background. The past few weeks had taught Bill that he really had never known the meaning of boredom before in his whole life, unable to leave the house, nobody ever coming to see him. All Bill Denbrough had to keep himself company was the homework being sent from school, content on Netflix and the burning images of his girlfriend dying whenever he closed his eyes. He fiddled his fingers together, letting out an angry sigh.

He’d had his phone taken away by his parents, an assumed punishment for a crime that Bill couldn’t completely bring himself to feel bad about. Sure, he hadn’t really intended for Criss to die, but he’d be blinded at the moment and all he could think about was getting that gun away from Henry. Bill supposed, in complete truth, he couldn’t regret killing Criss- because if it had been Henry he wouldn’t have felt anything besides victory. Bill felt as though Criss knew what we was getting into it when he aligned himself with the Bowers gang. Bill only regret was that he hadn’t managed to take Bowers and Hockstetter down, too.

The police hadn’t responded well when Bill had told them that, hence the house arrest awaiting trial he was currently living through. He didn’t care. He would’ve done all that and more for Audra. Maybe he was coming unhinged like they all said- but living through this hell, who wouldn’t?

The sound of the knocking on his front door startled Bill out of his darkening thoughts, dragging him away from matted, bloody brown hair and sightless eyes. He was ready to simply ignore it, he didn’t suppose that company was exactly permitted during his punishment, but then he recognized the knock. The quick three knocks with the singular harsh, one. A code, a knock known by only three people. Bill rolled off his ass and stomped to the front door.

Eddie Kaspbrak stood on his front step in a suit with classmates- hoodlums and scholars alike- surrounding him in similar fashion choices. Bill found himself frowning and rattling his brain before letting out a harsh chuckle. “Prom night already? I can’t go,” he told him, lifting up his leg and shaking his ankle to showcase the bracelet that insured his prison.

A pained look crossed Eddie’s face as he looked down at it, and Bill felt a small thrill at it. In the events of the past weeks, Bill had all but forgotten his and Eddie’s spat the night of Greta’s party, but seeing him at his front door now after everything brought it all rushing back. A small ball of anger settled in his stomach, even as rational part of Bill’s brain knew that nearly all his rage to Eddie was being misdirected. “What the fuck are you doing here, Kaspbrak?” He asked, already stepping aside to let him in as the words left his mouth.

Eddie flushed a deep red, mouth opening and closing rapidly with wide panicked eyes. Stanley Uris stepped out of the crowd and rested a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We need somewhere to meet and get our stories straight. You have literally the safest house in this whole town, and…” Stan raised one eyebrow. “I assume you want to know what you’ve missed out on?”

Stan and Bill glowered at one another for a long moment before Bill let out an aggressive sigh and waved for the mismatched group of teens to come inside. Bill knocked shoulders against Eddie as he walked past, causing him to curl into himself and wrap his arms around his middle. Aurora wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and shot a dirty glare in Bill’s direction, which he happily ignored.

Bill looked around the room of his peers and felt embarrassingly underdressed in his red hoodie and jeans. “So…” he said slowly. “Where’s your little delinquent boyfriend, Eddie?”

Eddie made an awkward noise in the back of his throat, turning away angrily. “I don’t know,” Eddie said, voice breaking slightly. For a moment, Bill felt a pang in his chest. That voice was from an Eddie he knew, an Eddie of asthma attacks and late night tears. That little bit of sympathy was quickly snuffed out when Eddie told a single deep breath and wiped every inch of emotion from his face in a move so Tozier-like that Bill got chills.

“I’m assuming that even trapped inside your own house, you know Henry Bowers escaped from jail when they were trying to transfer him to Shawshank?” Stan said coolly as the group moved into the Denbrough’s large living room.

“Henry Bowers is dead,” Aurora said, not looking up from her phone as she dropped onto the arm of couch and leaned against Ben’s shoulder. She looked up after the long pause of silence throughout the room caught her attention. She held her phone up and shook it. “Dorian Tweeted about it. That’s what the lock down was all about, they found his body in the hallway.”

“That…”  Mike shook his head slowly. “That changes a lot of things.”

“No it doesn’t,” Ben piped up. “Henry was never the killer, maybe he helped them but it was never just him. I got my letter after he was arrested. And somebody had to have broken him out, right? Even if it was just to kill him.”

“What letter?” Bill asked in frustration, only to feel slightly better once he realized that there were other voices in the room that echoed his question. Only Aurora and Eddie seemed to have even the smallest idea of what Ben was talking about.

“There was a letter dropped off at the paper,” Ben said. “Basically telling me to stop investigating or I’ll die.. but also that I was probably going to die anyway. Basically telling me that everything would be answered at prom.”

“Which we already knew,” Eddie said, gesturing to nothing in particular. “The word prom was written over Janie’s body when we found her.”

“Janie’s dead?” Bill asked quickly as the conversation swirled around him.

“And what happened at Neibolt,” Patty added from where she was sitting in Stan’s lap in the big red armchair.

Bill’s brain swirled. “Neibolt? Like, the street?”

“What happened in Neibolt?” Mike asked, frowning in confusion.

“A ghost tried to kill us,” Patty and Eddie answered in unison. Ben blinked in surprise and Aurora gave a disbelieving look while Mike nodded as though that made all the sense in the world.

“I think tried to kill is-“ Stan started but Bill made a loud, angry noise before Stan could get another word in. Stan’s eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“I hope you realize I have absolutely no idea what the fuck any of you are talking about,” Bill practically shouted. “I’ve been in this house since that night, with no contact with anybody except my parents or fucking… Butch Bowers… to talk to. So, please, I need you to start at the beginning.”

“The beginning is about thirty years ago,” Mike Hanlon added quickly. Bill let out an angry groan, running his hand down his face and letting himself fall onto the couch into the lap of Ben Hanscom, the action dragging Aurora down on top of them both.

“How the actual fuck does it start thirty years ago?” Eddie asked, shaking his head.

Stan and Patty turned towards Eddie with matching looks of surprise. “Richie hasn’t mentioned Robert Gray to you? He’s like an old Devils wise tale.” Patty said with a small laugh.

“It’s an a legend, he’s real.” Mike said with a frown. “He killed all those people thirty years ago, just like people are dying now.”

Stan gave Mike a pitying look. ��I don’t know,” he said slowly. “It always been pretty far fetched to me. It was a warning to kids of blood Derry Devils to stay loyal to their kind or else. Which is absolutely bullshit because look at Bill’s dad and-“ Stan stalled, glancing at Eddie.

“You can say my dad, too,” Eddie said with an eye roll. “I already know, he told me. Can’t say he’s good example of being successful after leaving the Devils.”

“He’s not in jail for murder,” Patty said helpfully.

“Yeah…” Eddie let out a short breath. “But I thought it was him at first.”

There was a long moment of silence through the room, the teens all looking at one another and avoiding Eddie’s gaze. It was easy enough, with how Eddie was staring stubbornly at the ground. “Well…” Aurora cleared her throat. “Robert Gray was a real dude, Mike and I went to Shawshank. Talked to some people who knew him. Got a picture of his little jailbait.”

Patty scoffed. “I think his jailbait was the tens of teenagers he killed, not so much the one he decided could live and he’d have sex with.”

“I’m still totally lost,” Bill said quietly, looking around the room with wide eyes “Can I have like.... a jot note point of whatever the fuck is going on?”

“Robert Gray killed a bunch of people back in the 90s,” Mike said, clicking and unclicking a pen he’d pulled from the pocket of his suit. “He was also dating a high school girl who we only know the initials of- L.B  - and when he got caught for sleeping with her, they investigated him for that crime and found all the stuff that connected him to the murders. They found the girl he was sleeping with to be innocent of the murders or anything to do with them, but he’s our best lead to what’s happening now- if we could figure out who she is.”

“Her initials are what?” Eddie asked, crinkling his nose and looking at Bill. Bill pursed his lips and nodded back at him. He knew the same disconnected rattling in his brain that Eddie was feeling- the knowledge that he knew what name that was, but couldn’t quite reach it inside his mind.

“Butch Bowers was also the one who reported the relationship,” Aurora rushed on over Eddie’s question. “And when we went to Shawshank there was a picture of her- with Maggie Tozier and Eddie’s dad in the background.”

Eddie nodded. “My dad is also the other person in the picture with your dad and Went Tozier that got leaked to the press,” Eddie told Bill. “That’s why I started talking to Richie in the first place, he knew it was my dad before even I did. My dad used to be a Devil before he married my mother, it makes sense that they’d be all these pictures together. He hung around with Went and Maggie in high school, he told Rich and I as much.”

“My dad, too, then.” Bill scratched the back of his head. “He’s older than your dad and Richie’s mom by a few years- maybe two? But they would’ve run in circles, yeah.”

“Then they’d all know who the girl with Robert Gray was,” Ben jumped in. “We just need to figure out which one would be easiest to get information out of.”

An angry look crossed over Eddie’s face. “Figuring out some stupid student-teacher relationship from the 90s isn’t going to help us find Richie!”

“You don’t know that, Eddie-“ Aurora started but Bill interrupted once again.

“What exactly happened to Richie?”

Stan exhaled hard. “We actually don’t know, he and Bev went off to do something to help set up for prom and never came back. Then the school went under lock down- because of Henry’s body apparently, which kind of throws out any idea I had of what happened to them.”

Patty nodded. “Richie and Bev are old, old Blood Devils. With the Denbrough line gone, the Toziers are the oldest family from South Derry. Beverly is the last of the Marsh’s, and raised by the Toziers most her life.”

“Okay, can you say that in normal non-gangster words for us good civilians?” Ben said lightly.

“It means Richie and Bev have been trained to fight off an attack and survive since they were diapers,” Eddie said tiredly. “So, whoever managed to get at them would have had to have been just as well trained- probably more so, because they over powered them both.”

“Not necessarily,” Stan said, tilting his head to the side in thought. “Richie and Bev’s energy have been off with each other ever since her trial… understandably. If whoever it was went at Richie first, it wouldn’t have been hard to get Bev to back down.”

“But what I’m getting here,” Bill said with a wave of both hands. “Is that we agree that only another Devil could have taken Tozier and Marsh? So it actually has been a Devil this whole time?”

Stan narrowed his eyes as he turned sights on Bill. “Nobody said that, don’t put words in people’s mouths. We just said it had to be somebody strong enough and stupid enough to go after them. I might add, only two people have gone down for any of these crimes, and neither of them have been Devils: Henry Bowers and you.”

Bill launched to his feet, Stan following quickly behind but Eddie was jumping up and forcing himself between them. “STOP!” He cried. “Fucking fighting with each other isn’t going to help anything!” He pushed at Bill’s chest until he backed off, before turning back to Stan and Patty. “What do you mean Henry wasn’t a Devil? He ran around with Devils as long as I’ve known anything.”

“So have I,” Stan said shortly with a shrug. “The Bower family doesn’t have Devils blood, so to join Henry would’ve had to prove himself. It was pretty agreed upon that he was too unhinged to be trusted, he spent time around because Hockstetter and Huggins are Devils.”

“Bowers was too crazy but Hockstetter wasn’t?” Aurora asked in disbelief.

Patty crossed her arms around her chest. “He said unhinged- not insane. Patrick Hockstetter is a deranged sociopath, absolutely. But he also wouldn’t go on some half-assed murder spree with .45 and blow away his classmates. If Hockstetter is going to kill you, he’d do it clever.”

“He’d just Henry to do it,” Eddie said slowly. “Make Henry think it was his idea….”

“And kill him when it looks like Henry might tell,” Stan continued Eddie’s sentence, the two of them staring at each other with wide eyes.

“Okay, hey!” Mike called to them. “I think everybody else in the room missed something.”

Eddie spun around with wild eyes. “You guys were there…” He said slowly. “How come Hockstetter didn’t get arrested with Henry?”

Bill held his hands up in defence. “I was a little busy getting fucking arrested to see what anybody else was doing.”

“I saw Hockstetter,” Mike said slowly. “He was talking to Sheriff Bowers when they pulled Bill from the house in cuffs. Nobody seemed to bother going after him, they had Henry, Criss was dead… open and shut case.”

“Except it wasn’t,” Ben said. “Bill, do you remember what he said to you? About how they weren’t taking their orders from the Toziers anymore?”

“Yuh-yeah…” Bill nodded slowly. “Said something about having a new player or whatever? He was there looking for Tozier. Kept saying nobody would get hurt if we just told him where Tozier was.”

“Doesn’t exactly sound like Henry just snapping and shooting up his classmates,” Ben said plainly. “Now Henry is dead and Richie is missing. So, really… what if Richie was the target the whole time?”

“If Richie was the target, who ever it was would’ve just killed him straight out.” Patty said. “Why waste the time and effort with kidnapping him just to kill him in the end?”

“What’s far fetched about that?” Mike asked with a dry laugh. “They kept Janie in the Neibolt House for four months before killing her.”

“You really think all these people died because somebody wanted to kill Richie Tozier?” Bill asked with an eyeroll. “I want to kill Richie Tozier once a week, and even I think that’s a little much.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “What about Bev? If they wanted Richie, then why take her, too?”

“Because she was there?” Ben suggested.

“Because she’s a traitor,” Patty said quietly. “She was working with them before, we know that. But she was going to expose them, she was playing both sides. Neither one could trust her, it’s enviable that one side would kill her. It was just a race to who was going to do it first.”

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair. “This isn’t helping anything! We still have no idea who took them! Or where!”

“Well, what about Neibolt?” Patty suggested. “It’s probably like their home base.”

“It’s a crime scene,” Ben pointed out. “They won’t go back there.”

“It’s not a well kept crime scene,” Patty countered. “Stan, Eddie and I already trampled all over it. Neibolt Street is no-mans land. It’s the best place anybody could go for anything.”

“So…” Bill cleared his throat. “They held Janie in the Old Neibolt house for four months? The one that Beverly killed her father in?” Patty and Stan both nodded, Stan a little begrudgingly. “Okay.”

Bill turned and rushed from the front door of the house. Eddie made a loud noise of protest and ran after him. He stumbled to the front door, nearly running into it while it was hanging open. He could hear Bill’s police bracelet beeping angrily as the boy ran down the streets. Eddie was debating chasing after him when his phone started charming in his pocket.

Incoming Call from Richie Tozier <3.

Gotham s4ep21 “One Bad Day”  Personal Review

“It´s an odd time for a nap” Warning spoilers below 

* “Oh, Jim, you still think that you're the only one who can save the city.” Okay that one was lovely. Almost a bit like that one Pirates of the Caribbean movie.  I love how everyone was vaguely rooting for the same thing: Save the City! while trying to as well reach their own personal goals.  > LUCIUS FOX of course is the precious cinnamon roll that he is and just wants to save the city.  > JIM GORDON kind of just wants to save the city as well. But I do think this whole talk with Edward, as entertaining as it was it was jarring plot wise. Of course we do have the “We're gonna settle this. No, Jim. This isn't the GCPD. Here, I make the rules, so we're not gonna do this until we talk about what I want to talk about.” line that claims Edward is the one that wants to discuss  relationship stuff while Jim is the one who wants to stick to saving the city. But Jim actually brought as much into the conversation as Ed did. Especially if he indeed thinks Leslie is just using Edward he should have just kept this to himself and let Edward run into his misery and laugh about it over the whiskey into which he usually cries. But for Jim it´s at least as important as it is for Ed to plant his flag in that conversation. He´s still asserting “ownership” (for the lack of a better word..) over Leslie Thompkins by claiming he knows her better than Ed does. Ed might have the relationship and the sex but Jim still got the connection to who Leslie really is, ha ha take that Ed (to be read in Jim´s voice.) > TABITHA GALAVAN worries about the city, BUTCH GILZEAN doesn´t comment it but both want a cure for Butch.  > BARBARA KEAN was really endearing in the scene with Jerome. She goes from “not really??!” to “absolutely not on my watch”, her personal stake in it was being nice to Tabitha. How Sweet.  > OSWALD COBBLEPOT is a bit more used to situations like this. He´s just keeping an eye on his goals: Money. While waving the city issue aside “Of course not” just to scramble and struggle and scurry to do all he can to make things better once they went astray. > LESLIE THOMPKINS want´s her “legal knots untangled” and of course save the city as well. It´s a win win thing.  “We solve it and we trade the information for clemency.” “I'm trying to protect what we've built.” > EDWARD NYGMA is bound to act in Leslie´s interest “Well, then the mayor would be wise to forgive Lee and I our indiscretions.”  But he´s in fact kind of the only one to declare that he personally doesn´t give a damn about Gotham. “If Gotham becomes a rock pile, I mind zero percent. I'm only helping you because I'm with Lee now.”  The situation is however one that he´s trying to use to figure out more about his nagging “does Lee even like me” question. > Oddly the show sent BRUCE WAYNE on a much more personal quest this week. By getting him out of the GCPD he´s separated from the Save Gotham plotline. Of course you could say everything that´s against Jeremiah could be useful for that other goal but there´s a split. SELINA KYLE also is just there to “be there for Bruce” what a muffin. * “I almost got killed fighting your ex-boyfriend's rotting corpse.” Everyone is so nice and grown up to each other. I don´t like the whole Tabs, Babs, Butch relationship mess but I really like how they keep treating each other. BARBARA KEAN sees how important BUTCH GILZEAN is to TABITHA GALAVAN and just a small reminder how Tabitha was there for her is more than enough to have her agree to helping her.   JIM GORDON and LESLIE THOMPKINS agree that the past changed things but they still care for each other and respect each other. As icky as the whole situation including Edward Nygma is (rant above and below), that is sweet. Then the third trifecta is SELINA KYLE also despite all the ups and downs being there for BRUCE WAYNE and even explicitly voicing this! It´s not a I hate you but I´m here. It´s also a unmistakable I like you. Progress.  And while we´ve had all those unusual little moments of agreement between Alfred and Bruce we have ALFRED PENNYWORTH acknowledge her by basically asking her to stay for dinner. Sweet.  So JEREMIAH VALESKA and BRUCE WAYNE. I´m not feeling it > Jerome still tries to tell everyone he´s better than his brother and saneTM.  “Are you out of your mind?!” “Why do you keep insisting I'm insane? What's insane about having a backup plan?” / “I'm nothing if not sane. And reasonable. Two things my brother never valued. Which is why I'll be successful where he failed. Well, that and being vastly more intelligent.” > He´s then again acknowledging that his brother was right that there was something inside of him.  “Jerome gave me what I thought was the worst day of my life. But only by losing everything was I  able to face what was inside me.  And I believe I've seen something very special inside of you as well. But to free it, you'll have to lose everything and everyone you hold dear.”  > I feel vaguely remembered of how RA´S wanted to kill everyone that Bruce loved to change him. > While talking to Selina Kyle Bruce wonders if that one day made part of him insane and if Jeremiah saw this and wanted to bring it out. I somehow could not care less. I don´t really feel medias obsession with that “beast/evil inside man” or whatever. Like just don´t? Even Jeremiah made an effort to “just don´t”, and it would have worked if it weren’t for him getting poisoned. That´s hardly relevant. > Then we have RA´s AL GHUL and Jeremiah both obsessing over Bruce Wayne and teaming up. Okay.  > On a side note: Ra´s what good are your visions if you have to makes sure yourself that they happen? How´s that different from you know ordinary people, usually that´s called having an idea. 

* “Ah, Lucius. It's making some kind of weird noise.” “What kind of a noise?” “A bad one, and and it's it's, uh, getting all glowy.” HARVEY BULLOCK so we got the message that mob mentality wise the GCPD  is still pissed because of the Pyg scenario and blames Harvey. But all it takes to get them clapping again is some (dumb) luck of choosing the right 50% option. Okay, okay and the willingness to run up to a bloody bomb. But to be fair all the police still in the city took kind of the same risk, so we are down again to the luck thing.  Look, I love Harvey. But the dynamics of “followers”, including the Valeska ones on this show are just ridiculous. * “Detective. Don't lie to me.” “It's not looking good, kid.”  Harvey keeping to lie to himself about Jim´s likely demise was sweet though. Also hooray for another case of directly addressing an issue (Does it show that I´ve been around too much passive aggressiveness lately, and tbh struggle with that myself .. ) *  “Leave Gotham. Start a new life somewhere else. Alone.” JIM GORDON telling LESLIE THOMPKINS that she should leave Gotham and should start a new life again (2x15). Like that one time when he already did, and she left and started a new life and then Jim shot her husband. Am I a bit sensitive here or is that additional “alone” kind of not okay? Like it feels like an implied if Jim can´t have her no one should. She´s  been through so much and has done so much that she´s not worth anything more than a life in solitude? Like I get why Jim would think that Leslie couldn´t have feelings for Edward (and I agree #Kristen #framedJimlostchild etc)  but hey how about she might think it´s nice that someone is around that cares about her, and even is ready to suppress his own narcissistic goals and ways for the sake of her.. While the scene with EDWARD NYGMA and Jim Gordon tattling about Leslie was funny I hate it in terms of plot. And if Leslie & Ed´s split is going to be about Jim Gordon or in general a “this is my wifey” conflict I´m gonna murder someone. There´s already been plenty of tension in between them before they mashed Jim into this. This could be about Leslie´s ambitions and goals. As much as I´m kind of meh about the whole atoning for her Virus related sins (or her injecting herself the virus in the first place .. ) thing I like that her character got a goal in doing god (even if they haven´t really shown how she wants to reach a better situation for her people in a way that does even seem slightly plausible) while at the same getting some badass scenes and now I fear this is going to be pushed to the background for the sake of everything being about Leslies feelingz. Nothing wrong with emotions but how about we can get her not being about her feels for men and about her feels for what she thinks is her duty. * JIM GORDON got some advanced phone trolling going on. Him being on screen just like the Valeska´s before is almost as good as him keeping hanging up on Jervis Tetch.   * And “A PALE imitation of Jerome”  how on earth could he drop that one with a straight face :D * “It doesn´t matter”  What kind of crap interlude was the SCARECROW scene? Like I appreciate the view, thanks. I also very much relate to just abandoning the task once it turns out to be more difficult than expected. Like a girl against three villains who would have guessed that much trouble. But that´s just a waste of a potentially so interesting character. Like do something with that beanpole of terror Gotham! But hey .. at least his lack of commitment to the task DID in fact matter in the end!  * And srsly why is the one that got tortured going to make dinner? I get that none of the three had an easy day so how about just ordering some food? ALFRED honey make that shower a very long hot and bubbly bath, that´s the least. * On another side note: Why did they spare Alfred? Why have a stand in? Why keep Alfred alive? Did they have something more sinister planned? Bruce killing real Alfred 2.0?  * “ You do realize the city is about to be blown up? It's an odd time for a nap. “You know that she drugged me.” “Yeah. Don't really care.”  * Think. Think. Think, think, think, think, think, think” * “ sighs You're behind me, aren't you?”  * “Would you believe it? They put me on hold.” Whoever wrote JERMIAH´s lines, bless you. They are so polite, polished and yet vaguely unsettling. I love them.  Of course bless Cameron as well! * “I hope you didn't catch a cold in my brother's grave. I know those things aren't exactly designed for the living.” * “No, not Alfred”  Oh hello there Theo Galavan, long time no see ..  they really refuse to do the “beautiful morning” thing with Theo (Aka you can´t have a dying character talk about something going to be a beautiful morning  2x11 and then have them be revived 3x6 and not have them say something like oh what a beautiful morning or not as beautiful as expected) but then repeat that one line with another character ??! Gotham?!   * Oddly it´s even nice to see Oswald getting a dose of what others that went against him had to put up with buuut .. let´s get back to Oswald having the great Plan B´s n stuff again soon pls

urban fantasy + jackparse

big thanks to @taggianto and @restfulinsomniac because they yelled at me when I asked them to I couldn’t have done it without you 💙 🌌brought to you by the parseposse 🌌

Bob was human before Alicia turned him

but she turned Bob only after Jack was conceived

so Jack is a halfie from the start

and in their real forms, vampires are unnerving. they have waxy, bloodless skin and sunken eyes but in artificial light they’re sparkling_heart

and Jack gets all his mom’s good looks and his dad’s love for hockey

but they know that putting him in hockey is unfair because humans just can’t compete

he never grows up with hockey as a burden on his shoulders. he’s allowed to be a geeky, chubby history nerd who loves taking photos of random stuff

Jack goes to samwell

the Samwell campus (since I can’t remember canon right now) is next to/in a lil town

right? and Kent is just this lonely sixteen y/o boy who has a little magic and he can talk to ghosts

and in Jack’s first year, this girl on campus and her boyfriend are found dead in the woods behind the Haus

and then weird shit starts going down near the Haus and their Captain, who is superstitious as fuck even by hockey player standards, is like. nope. we gotta do an exorcism

and he puts Shitty and Jack on the task because the frogs gotta be good for something, right? and so they ask around and someone gives them the game of someone who tells them about Kent

Kent lives alone. he got kicked out when he was 13 bc his dad was like, no fucking devils in my house. Kent finds this dilapidated cottage just a little bit into the woods on the other side and the ghosts there are friendly and kind and give him instructions on how to cook and which herbs to pick at what time for witchcraft and which herbs the florist will buy

and Kent survives and occasionally someone will ask him to do an exorcism and Kent will charge them to talk to some poor confused ghost who doesn’t know what’s going on

which is what Jack and shitty ask him to do, or so he thinks, so he shrugs and agrees. and I want it to keep in mind that this is Jack without hockey. he’s a slightly chubby, awkward history nerd who takes a camera everywhere and happens to be half-vampire by complete accident

he’s like, the last person you’d expect to have vampire parents

he’s adorable, okay? Kent can’t deal with this stupidly beautiful soft boy. he just can’t. he reacts in typical Kent fashion by being a jackass to Jack (ha!) who’s like ?? about it

(Kent is going to melt the first time Jack hugs him)

Kent is so going to melt, though. he’s been alone with nothing but ghosts for regular company since he was 13 and Jack is large and warm and he smells like maple syrup and almonds and he’s always wearing dorky sweaters and he’s got a slow, wonderfully calming heartbeat. Kent doesn’t stand a fucking chance

I think Jack doesn’t even need to be a vampire for this fic to work he just needs to not play hockey

anyway. Kent goes with Jack and Shitty to the woods behind the Haus and they a have a campout for 2 days where they toast marshmallows and wait for the ghosts to show up

Kent hears someone crying on the second night after Jack and shitty are asleep. he goes to investigate, like the entire dumbass that he is. who goes it turn out to be? the girl who was killed, ofc. and she’s all bloody and horrifying and shit and I won’t go into details bc I have to sleep in 15 minutes but she scary

but Kent is like, np. hey, can I help you out? what happened? starts talking to her in a normal person voice until she calms down somewhat. and she’s just getting somewhere when shitty pops up behind Kent with a really loud leaf cronch sound and the girl starts screaming again

Kent is like, good job, asshole. and they aren’t getting anywhere with the girl so they just go back to their tents, where Jack is taking photos of the fire and looking Hot As Fuck (ha!) and Kent is extremely flustered bc he is a smol teenagered boy. and they all go to bed.

Kent wakes up just before dawn, yelling. his nightmare is bad enough that he nearly strangles himself trying to get the fuck away from whatever it was and Jack and shitty don’t get what’s going on but Kent is terrified and won’t stop crying so they take him back to the Haus, where Drew, their manager, makes waffles for everyone but especially Kent

who is by this time wearing one of jack’s sweaters and also has their softest blanket draped over him like a cape

(interlude because I fell asleep)

so where I left off, Kent is sitting at the table, eating waffles courtesy of Drew, the SMH’s genderfluid manager and Lardo’s predecessor

Jack is hovering nervously bc Kent has been crying for half the night and vomiting for a quarter of it

but Kent insists he’s okay now, and Jack is hovering because he’s! worried! Kent is tiny and Jack doesn’t want anything to happen to him

Kent, between shoveling waffles into his mouth bc he’s only had them once before in his life, tells them briefly how the girl died

and the way she died is like, gruesome. it’s this horrible thing involving a high school cult and this girl was a witch with real power that got trapped in this thing and they tried to kill her but it didn’t work and it’s bad. let’s not go into too many details about it

and she told her boyfriend, who was a lax bro, and he was like, I’m gonna beat these people up, except there was a demon stuck somewhere that these stupid cultists set free and it killed her and her boyfriend

bad, long drawn out deaths

and once Kent is done eating waffles–which takes a while, because he eats a lot–he slams his fork down and says, grimly, “I’m going to kill them.” and Jack goes ummm? no? ur 16 u r a child?

they fight. loudly. there’s a lot of Jack yelling you are a child and Kent screaming, I’m the only one who can do this

Kent does not like Shouting he has a lot of bad memories of it.

shitty, walking in: we can,,,,,,all go,,,

Jack:

Kent:

and drew is like, the hell you guys are leaving me behind. I’m the only adult in this room and y'all all are kids

restful: (drew has adopted three children? somehow?? but they are all drew’s children and drew loves them)

restful: (one of them lives in the woods and needs more waffles in his life, another goes by the name ‘shitty’, and the third hangs around with the hockey team despite not playing hockey but they are all drew’s kids)

me: (the lax bro feud starts in jack’s sophomore year and it is 100% Drew’s fault. drew didn’t have to humiliate the entire team because zey were bored)

Drew uses zey/zer/zers

drew is a messy edgelord parent

so Kent and shitty and Jack and drew all go on an Investigation

(I feel like this fic should be written like an Enid Blyton novel)

so they around and ask people weird questions until Kent sees someone who has magic. people who have magic (and other supernaturals) show up in Kent’s vision with weird coloured auras.

and they go up to this dude, a Muslim guy in his third year who recognises drew, and this guy is like, yeah totally. I know about that cult of fucking weirdos that followed Allison around. I helped her get a restraining order on them

so they go track down the restraining order. the cop they meet first is this nasty cishet dude who refuses point blank to use Drew’s pronouns, casually calls Kent a slur, and won’t look at Ahmed and sideyes shitty suspiciously. this is where jack’s occasional vampire charm helps (or maybe it’s because Jack looks like a Fellow CisHet) and the cop agrees to dig up the file

Jack is not a Fellow CisHet and is very uncomfortable at being mistaken as such but he plays along because he Must

and everyone acknowledges the brave sacrifice that he’s making

restful: Jack, staring longingly at Kent’s every move. “Uh, yeah. Het. I can pretend to be that.”

me: [about Jack] me? heterosexual? yeah, uh, totally. I’m not. gay. or bisexual. *staring at Ahmed’s ass in those jeans * I’m Straight

Kent, also staring at Ahmed’s ass: I’m not

drew: you’re all dead to me except Ahmed, who can have my number whenever he wants

restful: Ahmed, wide-eyed and trying to decide which of them to stare at. “all of you can have my number, please use it.”

Ahmed: except you, Kenny. also, does anyone know to file for adoption?

the head of the (I had to google this) precinct is a butch Native American woman who shows up to ask them why they want records.

Captain: can someone explain?

Drew: please take me I’m gay

Kent explains the situation to her and she’s like, yeah totally. u can have the records. Allison’s restraining order was before i transferred here but totally

so they go thru the records and find the names of the people Allison restrained. and then they go track down those people

drew gets the captain’s number 'just in case we need some help’ but we all know zer True Motives

(Ahmed and Drew are gonna get together and work out a relationship where Drew gets to have as much sex as zey like and Ahmed gets to remain faithful to zer which is ideal for both of them, partly because Ahmed is just a lil grey ace? he’s uncomfortable calling himself that but he doesn’t like sex nearly as much as Drew does)

anyway, they have a showdown where Ahmed shows off his karate moves and Drew splits zer time between fighting (badly, needs to be rescued) and 😍@ahmed

drew is such a bad fighter because zer entire technique is to flail and screme

Ahmed loves his idiot person, okay? he’s made his peace with it

Kent meanwhile tries to exorcise a demon and he has no fucking clue what’s going on

or what he’s doing. but he cuts a deal with the demon that amounts to 'you can have the cultists but plz go from here, begone etc’. demon is okay with this, partly because Jack is being a threatening bloodsucker in the background and this demon isn’t that strong–demon boi might win. but he might not. boy ain’t chancing it

Jack and Kent become awkward friends who meet for dinner every week and they go trekking in the woods and pine horribly over each other. it’s gross. Kent is still living alone in a cottage in the woods and he still needs to be hugged about 6 times more than he is right now

but on the plus side, he has friends now! Jack and Drew and Ahmed (who’s teaching Kent magic !!) and *looks at smudged writing on hand * Skittles

and the entire hockey team.

and the Captain, who takes one look at this idiot boy and invites him home and feeds him and does it regularly enough that Kent is living there before he knows it

Kent goes back to school. he s t r u g g l e s to get grades good enough to get into samwell next year (he hasn’t been to school in 4 years ok) but he has Jack to help him study!

Jack kisses him at graduation

it’s just a quick little omg you made it kiss but Kent is! so happy! he feels like he’s bursting with it

he has everything he wants, he’s loved and hugged, he has a little kitten who’s his familiar, and even if he doesn’t get into Samwell he’ll still finds have magic and community college and he wants to become a teacher

the end

He cupped the two halves of my tush and spoke directly to them. “Run away with me, girls,” he whispered. “She doesn’t understand our love.”

I lay still, staring out the window, letting them have their time together. If I protested, I’d only make his case stronger: I’m less fun than my own butt. Which is not untrue. In my essence, I am a stone, unmoving for ten thousand years, unless picked up and moved. It’s not just sex; I find this whole experience—life—gratuitously slow and drawn out. See it crawl, second by fucking second. If I’m a workaholic, it’s only because I hate work so much that I’m trying to finish it, all of it, once and for all. So I can just ride out the rest of my life in some kind of internal trance state. Not a coma but, like, a step above that.

Our son, Sam, trotted in sleepily, and I warned him not to get in the bed: “It’s all bloody.” Alex quietly removed his hands from my body; he hadn’t noticed that I was bleeding. Sam pulled back the sheets and studied the mess, smiling giddily. “You got your period.”

“Yes.”

“You said it was coming soon and you were right!”

“Yep.”

This new generation of men has been taught (by me) to feel excited about the menstrual cycle. It’s like tadpoles turning into frogs or the moon that follows them wherever they go. I’ve been waiting a long time to have my period cheered on. More and more women my age have given up on our men and are getting together with millennials, youngsters raised by women who were born in the sixties, rather than the forties. I hear it’s great. Not a lot of hangups. But that isn’t an option for me because I need a man with a historical perspective that encompasses my whole lifetime. If anything, I regret not having met Alex sooner. If we had met at my birth and I had been able to assess how narcissistic my parents were, I could have left the hospital with Alex and got started on our relationship immediately. He would have been eight years old—young, but not too young to keep me alive. I need that in a man.

Sometimes my love for him is so intense that I want to crawl inside his body. I want him to be pregnant with me and never give birth, just hold me in. At other times, I wonder, Who is that guy? And why is he in my house? When I get that look on my face, he sticks out his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Alex. Your husband.”

Sam used his small pointing finger to tap each old bloodstain on the sheet; they dated back more than a decade, a disgusting constellation. It was one of those things you didn’t notice until suddenly you did. Like ants. Like everything.

I dressed and brushed my teeth. If I went to the mall immediately and got a new sheet, then the chore wouldn’t have time to gather weight. Once a task goes on the to-do list it settles in, grows roots—the trick is to preëmpt that. I could get a tent light while I was there. We were going camping the next weekend with another family, although unfortunately I wasn’t sure I would be able to join. Too much work to do.

“I can get new sheets,” Alex said, slowly climbing out of bed, limb by limb. Sam asked if we would be watching TV today, yes or no.

“Not sheets—just one fitted sheet. There’s only one place that sells Cariloha-brand California-king sheets individually. What is it?”

“Macy’s?”

“Nope.”

“Amazon?”

“Definitely no. I told you about my bad experience—”

“You did. I forgot.”

Bedding is an unregulated corner of Amazon, where companies charge radically different prices for the same bad sheets. You can’t even get nicer sheets by paying more—money has no meaning there. And don’t bother typing in words like “Egyptian cotton” or “thread count”—you’re just offering them more precise ways to bamboozle you. Get up, find your keys and your purse, and go outside. I hate it as much as anyone, but sometimes you just have to.

My plan was to park on the street and walk into the mall, get the sheet, and go. By not parking in the parking garage, I would outwit the psychology of the mall designers who wanted you to sever ties with the outside world. But walking in off the street was disorienting. I entered through Bloomingdale’s and had to wade through the store; it was like pushing through coats to enter Narnia. Once I made it into the mall, I had no idea where I was. It took me a long time even to find a map, then I traced my finger back and forth between You Are Here and the Low Cost Luxury Sheets Kiosk to memorize my path. The man standing next to me took a picture of the map and then trekked on, studying his phone. Pretty clever. As I walked, I glanced sideways at his tan, brawny body and floppy brown hair, just to confirm. Yes. He was a famous person. An actor. Or maybe a hotelier. Maybe this was André Balazs or whatever his name was. No, an actor. Electricity revved through my veins for no particular reason, just as a courtesy to his stature. I kept an eye on him as I walked toward the sheet kiosk, bracing myself for the moment when he would peel off in another direction. But he didn’t; we continued walking alongside each other, and I began to feel that we were together. And he kept looking at me, out of the corner of his eye. This couldn’t be true but it was. Somewhere between BabyGap and Lady Foot Locker the tables had turned. Now he recognized me.

I was twenty-two when the video was shot. I needed quick money so I could get out of a bad relationship—not a lot, just first and last and a security deposit. I couldn’t admit my plight to my parents, because I had already done this and they had written me a check, with great relief, and that was what my quasi-abusive boyfriend and I had been living off for the past six months. He had come up with the ploy.

“Make it sound bad but not too bad. Don’t say I hit you. Say I threw a chair at you or something.”

“You did throw a chair at me.”

“Obviously I wasn’t fully serious when I did that.”

I felt obligated to stay until my parents’ money ran out, since asking for it had been his idea. Then he punched not my face but the wall right next to my face and I had to move very quickly from terror to concern and rush him to the emergency room, where a young, temporary doctor said that we could either wait four hours for the real doctor to arrive and fix the bone in my boyfriend’s hand or let him “have a go.” The temporary doctor high-fived me after he’d popped the bone back in.

The next morning, I woke up early and walked down to the cluster of newspaper boxes in front of the old people’s bar, and discreetly pulled out the sex-themed paper. I’d always known that this option would be there for me if I really needed it. Just as my parents were there if I really needed them, except for this one time.

I chose the job that seemed to offer the most money for a one-time deal. I thought that they would shoot it in a hotel but it happened in an apartment, on an old couch. I wasn’t directed so much as given a series of props to make my way through, like an obstacle course. A turquoise Teddy bear, a pillow, an empty beer bottle, a metal bowl. Not everything was clear to me (the bowl), but I was too nervous to speak; I just laughed again and again to demonstrate consent. My biggest fear was that one of these men, the man with the lights or the cameraman, would misinterpret my nervousness and halt everything, shutting down the set on the ground that I was being objectified against my will. At that age, I assumed that everyone, deep down, was a feminist. So one had to be careful not to trigger feminism where one didn’t want it.

I was waiting for a costume, something black and sexy or pink and trashy that would help catapult me out of myself. Instead, a man with a baseball cap, who was maybe the director, just said, “O.K., we’re rolling.” I was in shorts, a T-shirt, and sandals. I looked down at my shirt. It was from a sushi restaurant in my home town, but if you just glanced at it you might think it was racist, because of the fake Asian lettering. I imagined thousands of viewers waiting for this racist girl to get herself off. I quickly undressed and made a scissors gesture to the camera to indicate that this first part, the part with the racist shirt, should be cut. No one acknowledged this suggestion, so I rubbed against the Teddy bear, and rode the big pillow. I held the bowl, uncertain, and then set it aside. I put the beer bottle into my vagina. With all this moving around, it was impossible to become even slightly turned on—back then I had to shut my eyes and make my body completely stiff to generate any feeling. But no one said anything until after I had heaved my last fake orgasmic sigh.

“O.K., we got that,” a woman with a clipboard said. The man in the baseball cap gave me a firm nod, like a satisfied coach. I understood then that the five-hundred-and-fifty-dollar fee was not the price of my beauty or my sex appeal; it was my naïveté that I’d sold. Every person, no matter how plain, has one great erotic performance in her—the one in which she doesn’t know what she’s doing and is desperately trying to save her life. A second performance would be a copy of the first, which would require skills I didn’t have.

My face wasn’t anywhere you could see it unless you entered a credit-card number and clicked past dozens of professionals—“college beauties,” “hot Korean girl,” and so on. But a few people made it through the gauntlet. The first time I was recognized was at a healthy-Mexican restaurant; a pale man in gym clothes stared at me for a long time before making a scissors gesture in the air. It was electrifying, as if all my clothes had fallen off at once. I looked away but there was no denying our intimacy; he’d come while watching me. The next one was a father with his family; he scissored his fingers down low, surreptitiously. The last was a butch lesbian teen-ager; she just walked right up to me and asked. Each time, I’d hurry home and enter my credit-card number, clicking quickly past the college beauties and the hot Korean girl. Though I’d felt nothing at the time, seeing myself through these people’s eyes was profound and overwhelming. I’d cry out with abandon; my body would shake and shiver as I came. Then I’d sleep, immediately, for at least two hours.

The video shoot became the central sexual experience of my life; to this day, I can’t orgasm unless I imagine that I’m the pale man, the dad, or the young lesbian watching it, sometimes all of them together, crowded around one computer screen. I’m them, I’m me, I’m them, I’m me, I come. I showed it to each boyfriend I had after that, to blow their minds but also to explain my sexual orientation; I was oriented around myself in that video and anyone who’d seen it. There was only one boyfriend I didn’t tell. He was a very classy man, emotionally speaking, and I didn’t want to give him any indication of basket-casery. After I married him, I kept meaning to bring it up, to draw him into the fold of my sexuality, such as it was. But I waited too long; we were so close now. And after the butch lesbian there was a lull, a seventeen-year lull, in which no one recognized me.

I arrived at the Luxury Sheets Kiosk and the brawny man with floppy brown hair idled a few feet away, trying to decide what to do. The scissoring gesture didn’t seem to occur to him. I ran my hand over the sheets while the cashier rang up a tall woman who kept adding one more thing. His eyes met mine, and I gave him a secret little smile. Truth is, I wanted to collapse with relief. Though a lot had happened in the past seventeen years—marriage, a child, my career—it was suddenly clear to me that I’d only been going through the motions, an exhausting simulation. I wasn’t a stone. I was one of life’s biggest fans, the best example of a living thing. The amateur sex video was like a seed I had planted in my youth; it would always sustain me. Not financially but by sending me these messengers when I was most in need. My blood moved around in my body; I felt the purpose of every muscle. I was ready to dance. And just then a beat began, so I rocked my hips and pressed my wrists together, swinging them like a girl in bondage who nonetheless wanted to party. The beat ended abruptly; it was the tall woman’s ringtone.

“Hello?” she answered impatiently; she had enough going on with all these sheets. I couldn’t believe I’d danced to her ringtone. Maybe it was O.K. Who knows? Who can really see themselves? He was approaching. He was nearly beside me, his face open with surprise. I opened myself, too.

“You’re my neighbor,” he said.

“In what sense?” I said, my eyes twinkling.

“Well, in the sense that I live in the house next door to yours.”

“The house on the corner?”

“Yeah, it’s a duplex. We live in the apartment that faces Amador Street.”

“Oh. Do you park on Amador?” I was bringing up parking just to hurt myself. I hated this conversation.

“I park on Amador and my wife parks in the garage,” he said. “Although lately we’ve been trying to ride our scooters more. I’m Joel.”

I thought about bringing up my husband, tit for tat, but I was too tired. The previous few seconds had taken everything out of me. We parted, saying that we would definitely see each other soon, ha-ha.

I drove the long way around the block to avoid Amador Street on my way home. I parked and turned off the car. It was hot but I left my seat belt on, folded my hands in my lap, and took some slow breaths. Before Joel, I had still believed I could be recognized. Now I knew I was too old. How do you mourn that kind of loss? It just pulls your whole life down. My phone rang: Alex.

“Are you home?”

“Yes. I’m in the driveway.”

“Yeah, we heard you drive up. You coming in?”

“In a sec. I need to pour my heart out to someone so I can be empty and unburdened when I come inside.”

I waited for him to say, “You can pour your heart out to me,” but he was quiet and we got off the phone. He never takes the bait. Which is good. It teaches me to be more direct in asking for what I need. Or does it? So far it hadn’t.

We’d been tunnelling toward each other for years. It was hard work, but the assumption was that eventually our two tunnels would connect. We’d break through—Hallelujah! Clay-encrusted hands finally seizing each other!—and we would be together, really together, for the remaining time that we were alive. So long as we both dug as hard and as fast as we could, everything would work out. But, of course, neither of us knew for sure how the other person’s digging was going. One of us might have been doggedly tunnelling toward the other person, while the other person was curling away in another direction. That person might not even have been aware of how off course he or she was. One of us might have tunnelled straight down for a few weeks, in anger, and then tried to get back on track, but now honestly had no idea where to go. We might break through—Hallelujah!—only to find that we were seizing the dirty hands of a stranger. What to do then? Or we might simply get tired, and stop digging, decide that here was good enough. All the while saying things like “We must be getting close!” and “I can’t wait until the day finally comes!” We might never meet up at all; we might die before it happened. Or worse: maybe there had never been any hope of our meeting up, because what was that even a metaphor for? Oneness? A child’s dream of love? I got out of the car and went inside, carrying the new fitted sheet and the tent light.

The next weekend, I was unfortunately not able to go on the camping trip. I stood in the driveway and waved goodbye to Alex and Sam, tearful for no reason. Then I went inside and walked around the house, room by room, looking at all our stuff through the judgmental eyes of a monk or a nun. I did my work, very slowly, over the course of the day. At 8 p.m. I started watching TV and at 2 a.m. I turned out the light. Then the earthquake happened.

I flew out of bed and moved down the hallway like a person on a wobbly rope bridge. I lurched out the back door and along the side of the house to the sidewalk. The shaking stopped. The street lights were off, no moon. Car alarms were beeping in syncopation. A huge branch was draped across my car. Someone was standing on the corner, waving. It was Joel. I had successfully avoided interaction all week. Now I ran to him through the dark.

“I didn’t get my shoes!” I yelled dumbly, as the pavement trembled again.

Joel thought it was safest to stay outside; I thought so, too—less stuff to be trapped under if it fell. He called his wife, who was in Sun Valley, Idaho. I didn’t call Alex, since I was safe and a middle-of-the-night call is always alarming. Joel’s earthquake-survival kit was more elaborate than ours; we spread out high-tech blankets and pillows on the lawn on his side of the duplex and lay down, waiting for dawn.

Once the car alarms had been silenced, the night was strangely quiet. The freeways were almost empty. Without the lights or the hum of cars, the sky took its place as the foremost thing. Joel and I stared up at it—an enormous gray arena we could fly around in just by lying there.

“Looking at the sky should be a ride at Disneyland,” Joel said.

This was such an accurate way to describe it. I thought about the accuracy for two or three minutes and then said, “Yeah.” We squinted at our houses in the dark and saw that they were leaning; they had shifted. I thought we’d probably move, rather than repair ours; Joel’s was a rental, so he said they’d move for sure. Maybe to Ireland. I said we’d probably move to Ireland, too. The chances seemed high that we would be neighbors again, in Ireland. We scooted toward each other, for warmth, and when I turned on my side Joel spooned me, very innocently. All bodies were good, I realized. Joel’s stocky form beside me was unfamiliar, but good. Hugging. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Hugging was so moving, so basic. Why had I ever taken pride in not being a “hugger”? Two people embracing was the very building block of life.

“Hugging is the building block of life,” I whispered. Joel was quiet and this was exactly right; more words would just take away. I pressed my hand against the lawn, palming the whole earth like a gigantic basketball. Warm tears ran into the hair at my temple, one after another after another. Hello, stranger, I thought. And by “stranger” I meant not Joel but myself. My blood moved around in my body. I felt the purpose of every muscle. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t seen the video.

When I awoke, it was light out and I was lying with the next-door neighbor on his lawn. I could tell right away that our houses were fine. It took only fifteen minutes to straighten up the books and the dishes that had fallen. The earthquake had been big, but no one was saying that it was “the big one.” When Alex and Sam got home, I told a story about hiding under the dining-room table. Our earthquake, the one that Joel and I had survived, was private. I friended him on Facebook the next day and we started e-mailing. Mostly we wrote about details from that night—the silence, the sky, how time had seemed to stretch out. I didn’t have any specific or adulterous plans; I was just wholly open. I saw us going on a road trip. Or maybe taking ayahuasca and throwing up in buckets. His penis was moving in and out of me most of the time. Sometimes I made it very small, like a finger, so that it wouldn’t distract me too much as I worked or emptied the dishwasher. Just a little thrusting tick-tock that drowned out the real sound of time: 7 a.m., 4 p.m., 6 p.m., the most brutal of time’s representatives, but hardly the whole battalion.

I was waiting for Joel’s response to my last e-mail when Alex and I stumbled on him, almost literally. We were coming home from a date night; Joel and his wife were lying on their lawn, staring up at the evening sky. They’d brought out the same pillows and blankets, and a bottle of wine. It was adorable in a way that people like us find cloying, so Alex raised his eyebrows at me before calling out to them.

“Sorry! We usually park farther up but the trash cans are out.”

“No, no,” Joel said, rising to his feet. “We’re good.” He swept his hand toward their reënactment. “It’s a lot more fun without all the shaking!” His wife raised her glass toward me and smiled; she knew the whole story. Alex nodded, cocking his head curiously in my direction. I stared at the familiar blue geometric pattern of the pillowcases. Joel had taken the exquisite energy of our experience and plowed it back into his marriage. How wise. This option had never occurred to me. I had always detonated each thing in the very place where I found it.

Even after I acknowledged that I hadn’t hidden under the dining-room table as I said I had, Alex was still confused. We’d been reading in bed for less than thirty seconds when he started up with the questions again.

“It’s just so unlike you. You hate camping.”

“I know. It was an extreme situation.”

“And you’ve never once said hi to the neighbors.”

“And I still don’t want to! Joel is a completely uninteresting person.” This was now true again.

I turned out my light. He left his light on and lay next to me, waiting. Leaving a space for my confession. I had done nothing. Nothing! My heart pounded nonetheless, the dumb beast. Just as I started to roll over, Alex turned to me and used his big hands to pull all my hair back, stretching my face into surprise. He held me like this, studying my posture of alarm, then let go abruptly and fell onto his back in frustration. We embarked on a silence. It grew and grew until it was a sort of god that we could only submit to. After fifteen or twenty minutes I almost giggled—somebody say something!—and then I realized with horror that he was probably asleep. This wasn’t our silence; it was mine alone. I lay paralyzed as it hollowed and darkened, expanding in every direction with a familiar cruelty. Hello, stranger. Once, many years ago, Alex had saved me from this black hole with the kind of understanding that makes everything else in life possible. Even ingratitude.

He shifted under the covers and I held my breath. If he was awake, I would try. If he was asleep, I would sleep, too, and probably forget to try, or forget that it mattered, or what I meant by try. Try to be brave.

“Are you awake?” I whispered.

“Wide awake.”

I sat up and told the story of the video, starting with my quasi-abusive boyfriend and ending with meeting the neighbor twice. Alex was mostly quiet, only asking a few questions (“What was the bowl for?”). I left out the hugging and the e-mailing and the tick-tocking tiny penis, but, still, when I was finished he silently walked out of the room. I took a breath and held it. I had made a terrible mistake. Why had I done this? My mind stopped, poised to shatter.

Then he came back, holding his computer. He solemnly opened it in front of me, like a violin case before a maestro. I typed in the URL. The Web site looked a little different, but the major landmarks were still there.

“You need a credit card to get to it.”

He left and came back with his wallet. He typed in his credit-card number and I clicked around. I wasn’t sure where to go because the college beauties and the hot Korean girl were gone. It was all new girls. They looked extremely young. I scrolled in a daze. Brunette. Underage. Small tits. I stopped clicking.

“When was the last time you saw it?” Alex said quietly.

“I don’t know. I have it pretty memorized so I don’t need to. . . . Not since we’ve been together.”

“Oh. I think they update . . . you know, just . . . for the viewers.”

It seemed obvious now that they wouldn’t still have a video from the nineties.

“Yeah, of course. I just thought maybe they had a section for . . . alumni or . . . I don’t know.”

I shut the computer. It was too bad. Really too bad. How bad? The consequences would be enormous, I felt.

Alex was in the kitchen now, opening cupboards.

He came back with a Teddy bear, an empty beer bottle, and a bowl. He picked up his pillow and pulled the comforter aside, arranging everything along the foot of the stripped bed.

“I can’t re-create it, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was true amateur porn, not fake.”

“I understand—the real deal.”

“The people who saw it . . . they were really overcome by it. It was their top video to watch, porn-wise.”

As we talked, Alex seemed to be riding the pillow slightly, maybe unconsciously.

“You’re talking about the pale man—”

“The pale man, the dad, and the butch girl. Yes.”

Now he was rubbing the Teddy bear against his crotch. He slid off his boxer shorts. Well. Well, now. I sat back. He was very much an amateur. He didn’t know what he was doing and he was desperately trying to save his life. I’d never seen him move his hips like that. It was funny, or no, actually not funny, just disorienting, slightly grotesque. He picked up the beer bottle, and, after a moment of honest hesitation, sucked its mouth and then—I reached under my nightgown—began slowly working it into himself. I had never wanted to see this, but I came immediately, and hard. He brought himself to the end of the show, manually. I held my breath, waiting for him to come on the new sheet. I’d have to wash it again. Who cares? I do. Just a little. Just enough to ruin each day. And then, with a swift and professional gesture, he grabbed the bowl and came into it. That was what the bowl was for. ♦

Published in the print edition of the

September 4, 2017

, issue.

Miranda July

is a filmmaker, an artist, and the author of five books. Her latest movie, “Kajillionaire,” will be released in September.

I can’t sleep so you know what that means - anxious rambling under readmore while I’m laying in bed at 1 am agonizing about life

so I’m at the point w/ my new gender therapist where it’s time to actually like…. get my Doctor’s Note Of Transness and actually start T and I’m having a whirlwind of feelings about it because

1) I need to have a good ol sit-down chat with Bryan’s parents about how this is what I actually want and who I really am. they’ve been paying this whole time for my gender therapy sessions but I have so far been too afraid to actually like… have a Real Talk with them about any of this. I’m pretty sure the only thing I’ve managed to say so far is ‘I think I might be a boy and I want to see a therapist who specializes in trans stuff’ so there is….. clearly a lot lacking there in my part of the communications.

I don’t know how they feel on their side of the fence other than them saying they 'support me in anything that will make me happy no matter what, but also you know it’s okay to be a butch woman, right??’…… so that is uh. well there’s a lot of uncertainty there and it’s scary

and then 2) I’m struggling with imposter syndrome SO fucking bad. a big part of my therapy has been me trying to actually… go out into the world and meet new people and introduce myself as Ewan and like…. interact more with the trans community here in Austin but I’ve only managed to go to one (1) trans social and then fail to follow up on the contact info I got from that… I also went to this cosplays figure drawing thing that I was supposed to be social at but it was just…. a tiny group of quiet introverts drawing silently in a room. I plan on making a habit of going back to it (free figure drawing is fucking nice), but it’s just….. I don’t know the first thing about actively trying to make friends as it is, never mind this whole added layer of trying to like… 'pass’ or whatever. I know my face is androgynous but I would be frankly kidding myself if I thought my body was also… I don’t even bother with a binder because my hips are truly a lost cause

anyways, there’s this monthly trans masc support group I really want to go to but I can’t get over this fear of just… not belonging or being judged. I didn’t feel that at all when I first got INVITED to the group by the people I met at the trans social back in October, so I know I’m just having a bunch of nonsense self doubts but they’re still hard to overcome. most of it is just centered around 'am I still a Valid Trans if I don’t experience constant and violent dysphoria? am I Suffering ™ enough to be taken seriously? am I still allowed to be a boy even though I want to be a FEMININE boy instead of a ripped dude who wears snapbacks and basketball shorts?’

and lastly 3) I know Bryan supports me and that gender doesn’t matter to him so it’s cool for me to stop being his girlfriend and instead become his boyfriend, but……. I am worried about, like…… what if I’m not his TYPE of guy. I know what his type of guy is and honestly that’s the type I want to end up looking like, but what if I just turn out like a lumpy ugly thing instead??? I’m a vegan who regularly exercises/lifts so that’s probably not likely, but STILL WHAT IF??????

there is just this massive cavern of uncertainty and change I’m staring into and I know I’m overthinking it so much because it’s so important to me - and honestly all this fear is the same reason I’ve put off actually exploring this part of myself for so long, but now that I’ve gotten so close to fully realizing who I am the stakes feel SO much higher. it’s a lot to try and sort out

anyways, this has been my ted talk on 'the anxieties of a baby trans’, thanks for coming out tonight (despite the fact that I sURE HAVEN’T LOL)

all the gay questions bc gay

Thanks friend, here we go.

1. Name one way you break the wlw stereotype. (Fat, trans, poc, autistic, etc)

I don’t know if it’s really breaking a stereotype but I consider myself spiritual. I pray and I feel like when I bring that up to someone that they’re unfortunately “surprised”.

2. Who was the first girl you remember having feelings for?

She was in my fifth grade class and she had heelys. We were really good friends and I thought she was the coolest. (We both grew up and later came out as gay and she’s super happy and I’m super happy for her.)

3. What’s your opinion on the butch/femme labels? Do you think they’re harmful?

I think that labels can be harmful for some people and extremely helpful for others. I’m one of the people that feel helped by labels. Sometimes those particular labels can be annoying, but if they work for you then that’s great.

4. Do you have a girlfriend?

Yes. I have a loving fiancée that I’ve been with for a while now. She is the peanut butter to to my jelly, the sun poking through the clouds on a rainy day, the moon, the stars - all of it. Hi @remuspolaris​ <3

5. Define love in 5 words or less

Understanding, teamwork, friendship, illuminating, patience

6. What characteristics do you look for in a girl?

I’d always (back when I did look) wanted someone who has a really good sense of humor, understanding, similar interests and most importantly, someone I could have a friendship with. I feel strongly that your partner shouldn’t just be your boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, but your best friend, too.

7. Do you participate in LGBTQ clubs and events?

I used to participate pride. I went to pride three years in a row in my hometown and would go again once it’s safe.

8. Are you out to anyone outside of tumblr?

Pretty much everyone. A few of the co-workers I talked to at my last job didn’t outright know because I worked in a highly conservative environment.

9. Say some things you love about your crush/girlfriend?

I love her extra snuggles in the morning, I love how warm she is, I love that even when I’m feeling crazy or anxious or whatever it is that she still loves me and cares about me. I love that she cares about me as much as I care about her. I love that she doesn’t make me feel so alone in life. I love doing things with her.

10. Do you want to get married?

Yes, it’s on the gay agenda. I don’t know when it’s happening just yet, but I have an engagement ring on my finger.

11. Do you want to have kids?

Yes. I’m not ready for them yet, emotionally or financially but it’s been a dream of mine for a long time to have children. Being with someone that is good with kids/babies and wants them too makes all of that a lot more appealing.

12. How would you describe the difference between sun lesbians and moon lesbians?

Like @welshdragonrawr​ said, sun lesbians feel like ABBA and moon lesbians are Fleetwood Mac/Stevie.

13. What’s your favorite song about lesbians?

“She Keeps Me Warm” by Mary Lambert. The first wlw song I ever heard.

14. What’s your favorite book about lesbians?

My favorite fictional one is probably “Annie on My Mind” by Nancy Garden. It didn’t have a bad ending and at the time I read it it mirrored the kind of relationship I wanted someday.

15. Who’s your favorite lesbian character?

Since she isn’t canonically wlw or lesbian I can’t say Cordelia Goode and that hurts me, so I’m going to have to go with Alex Vause from Orange Is the New Black.

16. If you live in a country where gay marriage is legal, where were you when it was legalized? Did you do anything to celebrate?!

I was in my living room and I woke up to @mightthxnktwice​ happily yelling to me about it.

17. If you could meet one famous wlw (dead or alive) who would you pick?

Sarah Paulson, Sarah Paulson, Sarah Paulson.

18. Have you ever kissed a girl?

Yes.

19. Do you have any favorite wlw positivity blogs?

@wholesome-gf-memes-uwu​

20. Who was your first real life crush? (as in not Dana Scully or Jessica Rabbit)

See the above answer about first crush.

21. What is one thing you think your school/ place of work could do to create a safe environment for LGBTQ people

I don’t really think they could do anything. My previous job could’ve made sure that others didn’t spread homophobic comments with others.

22. Have you ever been to a gay bar?

Yes.

23. Do you know a lot of LGBTQ people outside of the Internet

I know some, I wouldn’t say a ton - and the ones I do know I met through the internet.

24. Describe your ideal gaycation (a vacation that you, a gay, go on)

Disneyland. Just a long expected stay at Disneyland, maybe during Gay Days.

25. Not a question, I just want you to know that you’re amazing and beautiful and I love you. Keep up the good work.

Thanks friend.

*holds you at gunpoint* gimme 1, 2, 4, 5, 6, 13, 14, and 24 with my redbulls

*stuffing redbulls into your duffle bag* just take it easy many i got your redbulls right here

(read more post bc this will probably be Long)

1. What drew your character to their LI and vice versa?

Butch initially became attracted to Redmond following him saving his mother from getting eaten by radroaches, and realized that this guy he’s held contempt for during his teenage years is actually pretty cool. The feeling comes back stronger following Redmond’s return to the vault and Butch views him as a hero for killing the Overseer, even if Redmond thinks he’s the furthest thing from it. It doesn’t develop into a real crush until Redmond stops him from drinking himself to death and takes him on as his travelling companion.

Redmond associated Butch with being that asshole who bothered him incessantly growing up, so I suppose when that’s no longer an issue he sees him for what he actually is - charming in his own stupid way and boyishly handsome. Romantic feelings (or what he has of them) don’t develop until later, and he’s initially only drawn to his looks.

2. What was the first moment that they knew they were in love with their LI?

Redmond had that 3-day-long moment of “I think I might love you” following his return from The Pitt and being back in Rivet City seemed like a luxury to him, and he’s real sick with radiation poisoning for about a week afterwards. Butch, who missed him and is luckily the only person there for him, helps take care of him as he recovers and when he can’t really do basic human things on his own because he’s weak and recovering. He probably has this realization while Butch is doing something ridiculously mundane like handing him food or giving him RadAway. The idea doesn’t last long though and soon he’s back to feeling guilty and angry for trying to move on from Amata.

4. Their favorite physical feature on each other?

Butch thinks Redmond’s scar makes him look badass and ruggedly handsome. He also thinks he’s got a cute smile but it’s not like he sees it very much. When he does though, it makes him melt.

Redmond thinks Butch has a great jawline and beautiful eyes. Don’t tell him he said that.

5. How do they comfort each other when they are sad?

Butch tries to console Redmond himself and always tries to find a solution when there often isn’t an immediate one available, which sets Redmond off a little and makes him feel worse. He eventually learns to not try interfering directly, but rather just tell him he’s sorry it’s happening and he holds him or lies against him if he doesn’t mind until it passes.

Redmond has a hard time expressing comfort. Like a shockingly hard time. He genuinely does try and make an effort to distract Butch with something else, or give him a rational input to his emotions, but mostly he can only sit there awkwardly with him and make himself feel bad for not knowing what to do.

6. Who is the big spoon?

Butch lies against/on Redmond more and clings to him a lot but Redmond is always the big spoon when the situation calls for it.

13. How do they react at being away from each other?

When Redmond is off doing odd jobs with another companion or the Fallout 3 DLCs, Butch usually feels very lonely since Redmond is the only familiar thing he’s got out here. He’ll sit in Rivet City drinking a lot to keep his mind off him, or he’ll be offering to cut someone’s hair to get some stylist experience outside of the vault. I’d say at one point he visits the vault again when Redmond’s off on a long trip away, but he probably doesn’t stay long. It’s uncomfortable.

Usually when away, Redmond’s mind is occupied with survival or whatever the task at hand is. His mind drifts to Butch at night and realizes he does actually miss having him sleep next to him or held close against him. But mostly at night he is feeling bad and he would instead be occupied with thinking about Amata or his father and wallowing in guilt.

14. Is their anything they associate with each other?

Butch: (points at anything even vaguely romantic or involving a couple) usRedmond: (sighs)

But, they don’t associate eachother with anything significant except a mutual feeling of home within eachother, since both are the only things they have relating to their old lives out in the wasteland. This evenually becomes too much for Redmond.

24. Is their any moment that happens between them that you know happens and just makes you melt?

Honestly the sweetest moment is probably the aforementioned dying-after-the-pitt-but-my-boyfriend-takes-care-of-me. But they have a few nice times together, like having their first heartfelt conversations in bed at night and it sticks with Butch for a long time. I’m sorry I actually don’t know any other Extremely Soft moments with them fdhhfd the ship is heavily based on angst.