#if her way of coming out is just seeing a lesbian flag and smiling and pointing at herself then good for her she doesnt owe anyone anything

[demadogs]

gonna say it again, REAL PEOPLE CANNOT BE QUEERBAIT. QUEERBAITING IS A SHITTY WRITING TACTIC FOR FICTION. SOMEONE JUST BEING THEMSELVES IS NOT BAIT FOR ANYONE.

[vampiefemme]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞! ** 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: modern au; ellie moves to a big city to escape the past. she goes to her first lesbian bar, where she meets you.

cw: porn with…a whisper of plot; alcohol use, fingering (e!receiving), strap-on sex, bottom!ellie, slightly sub!ellie, she’s whiny here

Ellie’s never been to a lesbian bar.

It’s surreal - banners of colorful pride flags are strung across the room, some of which she can’t even identify. Distressed and faded posters are plastered on the stone walls, advertising drag shows and queer punk bands with names like The Cranky Dykes and T-Girl Social. Nearly every patron is tatted or pierced, and there’s more platform boots and fishnet clothing than Ellie’s ever seen in one place before. Before she’d moved to the city, Ellie had lit up with excitement at the thought of visiting a lesbian bar. But now, in her worn Harley Davidson tee and a pair of jeans with unintentional rips at the knees, she feels very much out of her depth. 

Steeling her nerves, she internally reminds herself that this is exactly why she’d moved in the first place - she needed new experiences. She needed unfamiliarity. What she’d left back in Texas was her normal, and she planned to build a new normal here. One that was the antithesis of everything she’d known before. 

The bar isn’t completely packed, but she does need to push past dancing, sweaty bodies, girls sucking on each other’s faces, and chatting cliques to get to the edge of the bar, where more clusters of people are calling out drink orders and thrusting wads of cash tips at the bartenders. By some miracle, an empty barstool presents itself after a drunken patron with a mohawk stumbles out of it, and Ellie swoops in to snatch it before someone else does. She sits there for a good few minutes, trying to capture a bartender’s attention, until someone shuffles up beside her and sticks a hand out to wave one over. And, of course, they notice immediately, heading over with a towel slung over their shoulder. Ellie sinks lower into her seat, cheeks burning.

“I’ll have a spicy marg,” the woman beside Ellie says, voice projecting loud enough to hear over the clamor of music and chatter. The bartender nods, then goes to step away, but the woman next to Ellie stops her, speaking with that attention-commanding voice.

“What are you having?” 

The bartender’s gaze shifts to Ellie, still hunched over and beet-red in the face. She flushes impossibly redder when she looks up at the woman who’d just ordered, realizing that the question had been directed at her. 

“Oh,” she blurts, posture straightening. She glances at the woman, anxiety flaring, then back at the bartender. “Um, an old fashioned. Please. Thanks.”

Just as quickly as they’d come, the bartender disappears again, off to pour precisely-measured shots and mix cocktails in shiny silver shakers. Ellie’s hands are in her lap, fiddling restlessly, when she finally forces herself to look up at the woman who’d practically had to order for her. 

You smile at her when she meets your gaze. Though she’s trying to be subtle about it, you can feel the way Ellie drinks in your every feature, eyes flickering over your face, then your body. It’s obvious that she likes what she sees, because she has a hard time looking you in the eye again. 

“Thanks,” she says. “I’ve been trying to order for a while.”

“So I saw,” you respond, but not unkindly. You take a moment to look her over, although you’d already done plenty of that before you’d even approached her - you had seen her from across the bar, looking forlorn, her leg bouncing beneath the edge of the bar as she tried (and failed) to order herself a drink. Her lack of confidence is what piqued your interest; it was hard to believe that someone that gorgeous wasn’t oozing arrogance and self-importance. She’s all lean muscles and shaggy hair, her forearm decorated with a sprawling fern tattoo. You could already imagine yourself running your hands through that hair, kissing the length of her sharp jawline, pulling those narrow hips up against your own. 

At a lesbian bar, a hot girl who couldn’t carry herself with confidence usually meant one of two things: she’s fresh out of a breakup, or she’d never been somewhere like this. You’re determined to find out which of the two applies to her.

“What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.” You angle your body to face Ellie, popping your hip out as subtly as you can. 

Ellie, determined to keep her eyes on your face and not the curve of your hip or the delicious sliver of cleavage peeking out of your square-neck top, peers up at you from behind her bangs. “Uh, yeah, I’ve never been. I just moved here. I’m Ellie - what’s your name?”

You tell her your name and she repeats it slowly, like she’s tasting every syllable. “Pretty.”

Your drinks arrive before you can fumble for a response. 

“Spicy marg, old fashioned,” the bartender lists as they slide your drinks over the smooth wood of the bar. Ellie murmurs her thanks and you nod at the bartender before they disappear, your hand curling around the glass. 

“Cheers?” You tip your drink towards Ellie. She clinks her own glass against yours and the two of you take your first sips, the bitterness of the alcohol burning its way down your throat. You feel it settle in your stomach, warm and satisfying. 

“So,” you begin, licking jalapeño and lime-tinged tequila from your lips. Ellie’s eyes follow the movement for a moment before she catches herself and looks away. “Where’d you move from?”

Ellie smiles shyly. You watch her index finger trace the rim of her glass. “Texas.”

“Oh?” One of your brows lifts. “And what made you want to move here, Texas?”

“For one, I’m gay.” 

“Thank you for stating the obvious.”

She lets out a little laugh, and the sound makes you want to grin - you take a sip of your margarita instead. 

“I just… Couldn’t be there anymore,” she elaborates. “It wasn’t right for me. I needed to start fresh.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, letting Ellie’s words sink in. Clearly, something severe enough had happened to make her want to shed her life in Texas like an old skin. And this lesbian bar, filled with every unique kind of queer this city had to offer, was part of this new version of Ellie - the version she’d chosen to build from the ground up. You’re struck by how brave Ellie must be for that. And yeah, maybe she’d struggled to order a drink for herself, but that didn’t take away from her bravery - not when she’d willfully chosen to uproot her life, a decision most people could never follow through with. 

“I’m impressed,” you say honestly. “And I hope the city gives you what you’re looking for.”

The corners of Ellie’s lips twitch, and that pretty blush fights its way onto her cheeks again. You’re about to say something when you hear the first notes of one of your favorite songs thumping through the speakers, a few other bargoers cheering to express their own excitement. 

“Dance with me,” you say to Ellie, reaching forward with your free hand to grab her forearm. She looks up at you like a deer in headlights.

“I can’t dance.”

“Doesn’t matter, just follow my lead. C’mon.”

“I don’t know if—”

“Didn’t you come here to try new things?” You curl your fingers around Ellie’s wrist, and she lets you pull her to her feet. You’ve made a good point, and she doesn’t argue again - just follows you to the dancefloor, where dozens of others are already moving to the beat of the music, hips rolling, heads nodding. The lights pulsate in the vibrant colors of the rainbow, the crowd painted shades of sunset orange, hot pink, deep indigo. You sip your drink and start to dance, turning to face Ellie; she’s gaping at you, unmoving. 

“Come here,” you say, having to shout over the music. Ellie steps closer to you as you move to the rhythm, hips swishing. You’re wearing a pair of flared pants that makes your ass look incredible, and after Ellie finally starts to dance along with you, you turn around to bring your backside closer to her. As if by instinct, Ellie’s arm loops around your waist - she presses her palm into the front of your pelvis, rolls her hips against your ass. You grin, wide and self-satisfied, as you lift your drink to your lips again - only to realize it’s almost gone. You make a mental note to head back to the bar after this song, but for now, you enjoy the last few drops of your margarita, revelling in the feeling of Ellie’s hand, strong on your hip, as she presses ever-closer into you from behind. 

Ellie’s in awe of you. 

The way you’d strolled up beside her at the bar, posture proud, buying Ellie a drink and flirting with her like it was easy, natural. The way you’d let your eyes wander over her figure, not shy at all about the lust in your gaze. The way you’d dragged her to the dancefloor and ground your ass back against her, smelling like lime and tequila and something headier, something distinctly you. 

Now, after two strong drinks and several songs-worth of dancing with you, Ellie’s so turned on she feels like a live wire, sparks erupting from her every nerve. 

On the dancefloor, Ellie had looped her arm around your hips, leaning in so close she could smell the liquor on your breath. You’d needed to fight down every urge to kiss her first - you weren’t even sure if she’d ever kissed another woman before, and you’d already done enough to pull her out of her shell for the night. But Ellie had leaned her forehead against yours, noses brushing, eyes fluttering shut… And your mouths had crashed together in the sort of kiss you’re going to have a very hard time forgetting.

After making out in the crowd like that for god knows how long, you’d invited Ellie back to your apartment. Which brings you to your current predicament: Ellie’s backed up against the front door, your hand under her shirt, fingers dancing over every inch of her deliciously solid abdomen. If Ellie’s inexperienced, she’s doing a fabulous job of pretending she isn’t. But you’re not sure just how innocent she is now, as she moans unabashedly into your mouth, your hand squeezing her tits over her sports bra. 

“Hey,” you breathe, pulling back from the heated kiss you’d been sharing. 

“Mm?” Ellie blinks at you, dazed. You want to ruin her. 

“Is this okay?” You peck at her lips, then her cheek. “We don’t have to… Do anything. Not if you don’t want to.” 

Ellie’s bangs are gorgeously tousled, and she looks at you like a kicked puppy - all round eyes and furrowed brows, worried you’re taking something from her. “But I… I want to.” 

“You sure?” 

Ellie nods. 

“Have you ever been with another woman before?” Your stomach twists at the directness of your own question, but you really want to know. Need to know. A bar hookup might not be the best way for her to pop her cherry - or, at least, her gay cherry. 

Then again, it’s not exactly unheard of in the community.

“Yeah. I have,” Ellie says, her hand reaching out to grab your hip. 

You find yourself wanting to pry, dig deeper for more information, but there’s no real reason for it. She’s not entirely new to this. She wants you. That’s all that really matters, right?

So you take her to your bedroom, let her undress you with shaky, calloused hands, kiss her slow and sweet while she unbuttons her jeans and kicks them aside. You help each other undress until you’re both naked, and then you’re stumbling into bed, your legs straddling Ellie’s hips as you kiss down her neck, stopping to suck pretty purple bruises into the sensitive skin. Ellie makes a noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper, sending another white-hot jolt of arousal through you. Your cunt is spread over her pelvis, and you grind down against her like that, letting out a pleased sound of your own.

 “God, you’re so hot,” Ellie mutters, watching you roll your hips as you kiss down to her chest. She reaches for your tits, squeezes them in her palms. 

“Yeah?” You smile, sharp and wolfish, down at Ellie. She looks at you like she can’t believe this is happening - like she can’t believe you’re real. “Gonna let me fuck you, Ellie?”

She moans at the obscenity of the question, nodding quickly. “Yes, god, please fuck me.”

“Mm,” you hum, “need to get you ready first, baby.”

Ellie’s breathing is ragged, her hips lifting, seeking friction. You climb down her body until you’re settled between her legs, pulling her knees apart to give yourself access to her center. She’s fucking soaked - you bite your lip at the sight of her, clit swollen and puffy, labia shining with arousal. 

You start with one finger, dipping into the wetness pooled at her entrance and spreading it up to her clit, drawing sharp breaths and staggering moans from Ellie’s kiss-bitten lips. Every sound she makes has you yearning to hear more, more. You slide your middle finger into her clenching hole and groan when you feel her walls open up smoothly around the digit. She pulses around you, hot and slick. When you begin pumping your finger in and out of that tight heat, Ellie’s noises become even more drawn-out, even more frantic - you look up at her and find her eyes already on you, dark with lust, a desperate, pleading expression etched onto her face. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby,” you coo at her, revelling in the way her pussy tightens at your words. 

“I–nngh, fuck–I need…” She trails off, jaw clenching. 

You fake-pout at her, puff out your lower lip in faux sympathy. “What is it? What do you need?”

“Need more,” Ellie pants out.

“I can give you more, sweetheart,” you reassure her, “all you had to do was ask.”

So, you give her more. You slip another finger inside of her, press the heel of your hand against the sensitive nub of her clit; your fingers curl upwards in the warmth of her cunt, finding that spongy, sensitive spot that’ll make her see stars. She whines - actually fucking whines, high-pitched and desperate, as if to say yes, right there.

“Shit, oh my god…” Ellie’s hands are clutching the sheets, knuckles blanched. “‘M so close.”

You don’t let up, and it only takes a few more moments of your careful ministrations before Ellie’s falling apart, a mess of jolting hips, strangled gasps, and a rush of wetness. You watch her come undone, wishing you could committ the sight to memory. After, you lick your fingers clean.

While Ellie’s spent and recovering from the height of her orgasm, you shuffle to the side of the bed to reach for your nightstand. You roll open the drawer, rummage around, and return to Ellie’s side with a tiny bottle of lube and your strap, the harness made of powder pink fabric. The brunette sighs contentedly when you lean over to kiss her, swiping her sweat-damp bangs away from her forehead. 

“You taste so good, did you know that?” You press another kiss to the corner of Ellie’s lips, feeling the way they twitch into a smile. 

“I really doubt it,” Ellie says.

You scoff. “Don’t doubt my taste.”

“Mm, okay. Fine. I believe you.”

Fighting your own smile, you move back to sit on your heels, cheeks heating when you notice Ellie’s eyes roaming over your naked body. 

“Need something?” 

Ellie nods, then sits up and pulls you in for another kiss, her hand on the back of your neck. “I want you to really fuck me now.” 

“Oh yeah?” You grin at her, your hands making their way to her tits and smoothing over her pebbled nipples. “Think you should learn some manners, Ellie. How about please?”

Her expression goes soft - eyes rounding, mouth pursing. 

“Please,” she says, and her voice is so sweet, it might rot your teeth. “Please fuck me.”

And who are you to deny her what she needs?

As it turns out, Ellie’s pussy was made to take strap. She’s leaned over, face down in one of your pillows, her ass propped up perfectly to give you access to her cunt. Still soaked from her last orgasm, she hardly needs any lube, the strap pushing into her all the way to the hilt without any resistance; she keens when you’re fully seated inside of her, a sound that makes your own pussy throb with need. Every noise she makes is pure heaven - you wish you could record them all, listen to them when you’re in bed at night with your hand between your thighs. 

“Fuuuuck,” Ellie cries out when you hit that sweet spot with the tip of the strap, her head shifting to lean on one side, allowing you to see the look on her face - the roll of her eyes, the way her lips part to let out each of her gasps and moans. 

“How’s that feel, princess?” You ask as you pound into her from behind; you admire the way her back arches deeper, like she’s encouraging you to fuck into her further and further. 

“S-so good,” Ellie stutters weakly. 

“Yeah? Doing so good for me, baby,” you pant. Every slam of your hips against Ellie’s ass makes her grunt, a pleased little sound, short and needy. 

That tiny grunt turns into an impatient whine when you pull out of her entirely, a lewd, wet noise accompanying the motion. 

“Why’d you stop?” Ellie asks, voice small. She cranes her neck to look back at you and the expression on her face is absolutely pathetic.

You give her ass a playful smack, admiring the way it recoils from the contact of your palm. “Want you to flip over. I need to see you come again, you looked so pretty the first time.” 

She does as instructed - she’s already so good at following directions, you’ve learned. When Ellie’s on her back, her face, neck, and chest tinged red with equal parts arousal and exertion, you lean in and whisper praises to her, lining the strap up to her entrance and pushing into her again. 

“Hold your legs up, sweetheart,” you instruct, pushing her thighs up until they’re folded against her body. She nods, panting, and lifts her hands up to hold her legs in place. You slip deeper into her like this; Ellie goes cross-eyed, lips pursed into a pretty “o” shape as you fuck her senseless. It doesn’t take much longer for her to get close again, and when her legs begin to shake with the effort of holding them up for you, you tell her to relax.

“Play with your clit, hm? I want you to come.” 

Ellie nods. “Y-yeah, I can do that. For you.”

“Just for me?” You grin.

“Mm, just for you.”

Her hand shakes as she brings it between her legs, drawing sloppy circles over her clit with her fingers. You keep fucking her, hips snapping restlessly, every lewd squelch of her cunt making you gush wetter and wetter. But as desperate as you are to come, you’re more focused on Ellie - the way she bites her lip, her entire body tense with her impending orgasm. She warns you before she finally tips over the edge: an endless chant of right there, I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come, oh my god…

You’re not sure how long you lie there on top of Ellie, still buried inside her, before her breathing finally rights itself again. You spend that time kissing all over her face and running your hands through her auburn hair, untangling a few knotted locks in the process. You’re both covered in a thin layer of sweat, bodies glistening, but neither of you seems to mind. Content to lie there together, you rest until Ellie pulls you in for a kiss - one that turns needy and sloppy not long after. 

“Can I taste you?” Ellie asks between kisses, her lips shiny with saliva. She says it with such hope, like she’s not sure what you’ll say. But you’re still drenched between your legs, inner thighs sticky with it. 

“There’s nothing I want more right now,” you confess. 

So Ellie finds a place between your legs, mouth latching to your clit like it’s muscle memory. You curl a fist into her hair and guide her every move, murmuring instructions, which she follows like the good girl she is. The night continues that way - all whispered pleas and tremoring orgasms, tangled limbs and slick-coated fingers, until the two of you finally doze off, wrapped in each other’s warmth.

And Ellie thinks she’s made a good decision, moving here. Trying something new.

[demonmarker]

Beautiful with you

Regina x Reader (Masc. Lesbian)

Chapter 1

Regina George. The Queen B of North Shore High, known for her dominance and the fact that anything she does is always for her self-gain, and you have absolutely nothing to do with her. Never had, never will, so you thought.

Like any other day you sat by yourself in the cafeteria at lunch, drawing in your sketchbook like you always did with your Doc Martin feet kicked up on the table, earbuds in with Bad Omens playing in your ear as you work on your latest idea for a new tattoo on the back of your neck when at the corner of your eye you see movement and… pink? You glance in the direction of the movement and see none other than THE Regina George clicking her fingers at you to get your attention. You had a small hallway crush on Regina. But who doesn't? You even have a realism drawing of her in your sketchbook, but you didn’t bother drooling over her or even bother trying to talk to her. You tried doing the whole friends thing when you were a kid and you were always left crying and humiliated, so it was a loner life for you and your sketchbook was the only friend you needed. Curiosity getting the best of you, you pulled out one of your ear buds showing she got your attention, “Regina” your voice low and husky since you never really talked much at school. “Oh my god finally,” your eyes narrow, not impressed by her opening line. “Come sit with us”, waving a beaconing hand. You lift one of your eyebrows up in suspicion, “Me? The tattooed lesbian loner freak? Sitting at the Plastics table? With the most popular and beautiful girls in the whole school? Yeah, I can see a red flag when I see it so… I’m going to pass.” Regina stuck her chest out proudly with a matching smile, “You think I’m beautiful?” You rolled your eyes and put your earbud back in your ear signalling that that was the end of their conversation. At the corner of your eye you see Regina get out of her seat and walk off, guessing you did the trick, no way was she really wanting to hang with you, like every other time it would probably have ended in a cruel prank that everyone but you found hilarious. Without warning your sketchbook was ripped out of your hands by the familiar blond using your book to swat your feet off the table, sitting where they once were. “Hey! What the fuck?!” Regina just held up her hand to silence you, and it. Fucking. Worked. The abruptness took you off guard. Queen B started flipping through your drawings, your cheeks going red knowing that the drawing you did of her is in there. “Hey, that’s private!” you tried snatching your art diary back but she was quicker, moving it out of your reach. “I don’t know why, these are surprisingly good. I was expecting stick figures at best, look you even coloured inside the lines.” Ignoring the insult your leg starts anxiously bobbing up and down rapidly from the anticipation of her discovering the drawing of herself, in that moment you’d rather defuse a bomb. Flicking another page Regina stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening and her mouth agape. The feeling of being so helpless to stop the inevitable made your anger rise, flashbacks of people laughing and humiliating you start running through your head. It wasn’t fair! This keeps happening again and again. Your anger gets the better of you and you abruptly get up from the table and storm off.

Getting to your locker, you attempt to enter the code into the lock but of course in you fit of rage you missed a number and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as you smash your fist into the metal door “Fuck!”, removing your bloody fist from the now red dent in the locker door, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you feel a migraine coming on. “My god, you are such a drama queen!” the familiar voice of the cause of your anger exclaimed from behind. Your head snaps to see the blond beauty again, her eyes go to the bloody fist print you dented into your locker “Got it all out?” her eyebrows raised, seeing the blood, her eyes darted to your bloody knuckles hanging by your side. She gave an exaggerated sigh and grabbed you by the sleeve of your dark red leather jacket, “Come with me”, not like you had an option.

Pulling you out to the car park and to her red jeep she opened the passenger door and then the glove box grabbing a small first aid kit out, she held her hand out for your injured one and all you could do was watch in stunned silence as this woman–who everyone saw as the Queen Bitch herself–delicately cleaned and bandaged your injury. She glanced up at your confused expression “Stop looking at me like that you dork.” Being called out made your cheeks go red, instantly reacting you let out a “Sorry” like you got caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “Wait, why am I apologizing? You started this, give me back my sketchbook!” tying the bandage’s knot she raised her hands defensively. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to chuck a hissy fit and punch your locker now did I dummy? Say please and I’ll give you the sketchbook,” she grinned. Your eyebrows scrunched “No!” you snapped back. Lifting an eyebrow with a mischievous grin, she took a step closer to you while pulling your face down to hers, your faces barely inches apart, “Say. Please.” Your cheeks went beat red, being so close to the beautiful goddess you could smell her perfume and feel her breath on your face, all making you want to give into her, the want to obey your submissive side was almost overwhelming, “P-please”. Her grin grew, her hand still holding your collar pulled you the rest of the way to her lips. Those lips. Those soft, plump, intoxicating lips. You completely lose yourself, never wanting the kiss to end. She wraps her arm around your neck, her hand gently caressing the back of your head under your tied up black hair where your undercut is shaved almost to the skin. When you let a moan escape your throat you feel her something flat being pushed against your chest which you instinctively grab blindly. Pulling back, Regina ended the kiss by pulling on your lower lip with her teeth which you automatically moaned to. She put her forehead against yours reaching up she wipes her lipstick from your lips, softly whispering to your lips “Good girl”.

When you come down from cloud nine you see her already walking back to the main school building, Fuck, what just happened? You look down to the object in your hands and find your sketchbook with one page dog eared. You turn to the marked page which was the drawing of Regina, a message written in the open space of the page “You're kinda hot, come to my place after school today. Meet me by my car.” You couldn’t stop your heart from racing, Regina George just kissed you! And she wants to meet up with you again! The rational side of your brain kicked in and made you question if this was all some sort of trick, telling you to keep your walls up, scenarios like this don’t happen to loners like you. It’s not like you could hang out after school anyway.

Trying to get through all the scattering people at the end of school was always a nightmare but you manage to make your way to Regina’s jeep, the blond standing against the bright red car in waiting. Seeing you approach she straightens up “Hey Loser, you ready to go?” you roll your eyes at the nickname. “I’m sorry I can’t today.” She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “Oh? And why not?” “I-“ you start but you hesitate, you look off into the distance as you argue with yourself whether to tell her the truth and let her in, no one knows what really goes on in your life and you liked that way it kept everyone safe. Or should you just brush it off and leave it at that? You release a sigh, “Would you be up to letting me show you?” Regina narrowed her eyes wondering if she should trust you or not “You’re not going to take me to some creepy warehouse and murder me are you? The pretty blond always dies first and you got the whole broody, loner killer vibe going on” she gestured to your whole person. You roll your eyes “Do you want to or not?” Chucking her hands up in defeat “Argh fine”, she walked to the passenger side of her car as you got in the drivers. Once comfortable you get a confused look on your face as you look at the dash, Regina looking at you with her own look of confusion, “Remind me again which one is the brake and which one is the accelerator”

The look of disbelief she gave you was priceless, “You can’t be serious” You cackle from her reaction, “I’m joking” you continue to laugh as she slaps your arm, already feeling at ease around her. “Don’t worry I’ve got my full license, your baby is safe with me.” “She fucking better be” she mumbled.

Ch.02 Ch.03

[skateisawesome]

dear the young trans girl who gets my bus,

i shouldn't know that you're trans, i don't know you at all. but i'm an observer. couldn't help but see how you always have the flag painted on your nails and the pride pins on your bag and the words on your phone case saying "trans pride".

i think you're about 12. that or you're just super short for your age. either way you're not big and cool, you're small and scared.

i know your friends don't get it. i've watched them make fun of other people for being gay or for coming out as nonbinary. i've watched as you sat there while that other, older girl, rants on about how so-and-so said she was a lesbian but now she thinks she's bi.

but most importantly i've watched them make fun of you. i sat there on the bus silently as your "friends" sat around laughing while saying 'you're a boy?? oh my god i had no idea you were a boy!' and they giggled and giggled for the whole 20 minutes. i sat there as you cowered down in your seat after saying 'no i'm not' about a thousand times over.

so i'm sorry. for not saying anything. for not interfering. i'm sorry you are friends with them, one day you'll realise that you deserve so so so much better. i'm so sorry that the only person who you seem to actually have decent conversations with is your younger brother. i'm sorry that your dad had to start getting the bus with you so that the bullying would stop. i'm sorry that all i can give you is a smile and a glance across as busy bus. i'm sorry that this is the world.

so dear young trans girl who gets my bus. you don't know me and i don't know you. but i watch you every day afterschool to make sure you get home safe. i make sure to smile at you and your brother, give you my seat if the bus is busy. i always give the older girl an attitude and purposely bump past her on my way to a seat.

it's not nearly enough. but i promise i'm looking out for you.

this year, i promise i'll do more. i'll tell them to leave you alone. for as long as you tell me, you're a girl. a gorgeous, lovely, amazing girl.

love, skate

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚃𝙸𝙼��� 𝚃𝙾 𝙶𝙾

description: In reader's last game of her career, her wife and team make sure she understands how loved she really is

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vicky losada x female reader

disclaimer: I am in now way saying vicky is bi-sexual or lesbian, this is all fiction

warnings: language, bad google translations as per usual!

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y/n just posted

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y/n spooky season... 👻

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username1: she is so pretty kill me now! 🙀🙀

username2: HOW CAN YOU LOOK LIKE THAT 😳😳

username3: love love love it!

losada_vicky: Jesus, I am a lucky woman... 🤯

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y/n: proud to wear Losada on my back baby ! 🩷

username4: UGHHHHHH

username5: PLEASE MA'AM 🔥🔥

username6: Break me like a glowstick I beg

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y/n: ya'll need to touch grass oml 🤨

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username6: OMG OMG ❤️❤️

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losada_vicky just posted on her story

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Twitter/X

username1: I don't know if I can take it today - I cannot believe it 😭😭

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username2: I am going to miss her so much.

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username3: She is only 33, why do you think she is retiring? 😶

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username4: She was really badly injured during her second world cup, her ACL tore, cracked two ribs and gave herself a dent in her skull, so...

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username3: well, then that makes sense...

username5: I am so used to seeing her, I am going to miss her so much! 😭❤️

username6: I AM GOING TO CRY THEIR FUCKING STORIES GOD NO ❤️

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When the whistle blew, y/n couldn't believe it, the air was pulled from her lungs and as her teamed cheered in relief from the win, a tear dropped down her cheek at the idea of leaving for real this time.

Her wife wrapped an arm around her and the team swarmed her soon enough, a lot of people crying as they enjoyed a last group hug with their captain of four years.

As they pulled away, y/n looked out at the crowd who were screaming, cheering, waving Brighton Flags for her, and she laughed tearfully and waved out at them in thanks.

"Right." Vicky's voice echoes a microphone held in her hand.

"My wife has given a lot of her life to Brighton, and she honestly loves everything about this club, the players, the staff and especially the fans. I love this club because of her." Vicky says.

The crowd aww's at that, and y/n smiles sadly as she watches her wife who was looking around, proudly talking about the one she called her own.

"She may be retiring, but y/n Losada will be remembered for years as the best Brighton, fan, player and Captain because she has changed so many lives in the course of her own." Vicky finishes.

The crowd erupts at that, cheers showing such agreement to Vicky's speech that the captain covered hr face and took a deep breath, trying to stop from bursting into tears.

A microphone was somehow passed to her, and y/n shook her head, but the chants of 'speech speech speech' were telling her she was over-ruled.

"Um, wow, where to start?" She asks. "First of all, I came through the Brighton academy and played on a senior pitch at the age of 16. I am now 33, and after a brief few years at Barcelona, am honoured to have done my final game here." y/n begins, the crowd cheering for her.

"I am so grateful to every fantastic person on this team, in this club and in this crowd. Because you have made my job the easiest thing in the world." y/n smiles, her wife chuckling and wiping a tear.

"My wife is crying, though I wish she wouldn't because we both know, if I play any longer, I will be sewn back together with how many injuries I have got." y/n laughs, her hand coming up to cup her wife's face lovingly.

"I won't say much more, but thank you for your support, thank you for your love, you will all always have mine. Thank you Brighton and Thank you football. See you around!" y/n finishes and the crowd bursts into cheers.

Two loud bangs happen and y/n jumps before laughing in shock at the fireworks that had been set off from the stadium, the officials giving her a proper goodbye as people cheered.

"y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n! y/n!!" The crowd cheered, repeating her name over and over while the Brighton team piled on her one last time. y/n knew she'd enjoy being a wag, but she would miss football.

Vicky wrapped an arm around her, pressing her lips to her lover's temple as the woman sighed and relaxed in her hold, finding comfort in her wife's warmth.

"I know my love, I know." Vicky promises.

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y/n just posted

liked by, losada_vicky, brightonfc and 429, 736 others

y/n

Words cannot express the pain I have saying goodbye, football has given me a family, several teams, a wife and so much love.

I may be hurting, but I heard you all and I am so thankful for you, and the happiness you gave me tonight and always shall never be matched!

Thank you all so much, I have had such a fantastic time in this career. I will see you all soon, when I am fulfilling my WAG duties!

All my love

y/n Losada xx

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losada_vicky just posted

liked by y/n, alexiaputellas and 392, 921 others

tagged y/n

losada_vicky There may have been several reasons my wife took a step back from football. We cannot wait to meet this reason. ❤️

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username1: OMG OMG AHHHHHHH 😱😱

alexiaputellas: congratulations you two! Cannot wait! I will be favourite Tia!

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marialeonn16: No I Will Be!

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onabatlle: honestly I think I will be ☺️

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y/n: @losada_vicky baby, I am just realising how many aunts this child is going to have. 😂

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lucybronze: They're all idiots I will be the favourite aunt! 😌😌

username2: English and Spanish national teams as aunts, jesus some people just live the life I dream!

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username3: This baby is going to be so loved holy shit

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username4: And the entire Brighton team as well!

leahwilliamsonn: HOLY SHIT AHHHHH ❤️❤️

_bethmead: SO EXCITEDDDDD ! ❤️❤️

keirawalsh: so proud and excited !!! 💙☺️

username5: :( I miss her playing already 😭

y/n: Can't express how much I love you, I am so excited! Serás una mamá fantástica.

you will be a fantastic mama

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losada_vicky: I love you and our baby so much

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username6: I am not crying you are.

ellatoone: I AM CRYING OMG 🩷

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alessiarusso99: HONESTLY SAME 🩷

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mbrighty04: SAME

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racheldaly3: SAME

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khiara.k98: SAME

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lj10: same

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y/n: I love you all so much xoxo

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lucybronze: @lj10 you ruined the 'SAME' chain there mate with your lazy lowercase

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lj10: 🖕🏾🖕🏾

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lucybronze: 😚😚

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END

flufffffffff

kinda love this, kinda don't

meh

-

Queenie xx

[writing-rat]

The Bond Between a Dragon

Pairing: Katie Torres x CC Walker

Content: Fluff, getting together

Summary: Katie has a crush on CC. That's when she finds a way to start a conversation...

WC: 1139

It was science class and Katie was excited. She loves science after all, it is one of her favourite subjects. No one knew she was a science nerd, however, knowing she would be bullied for it like she was with owning rats and being able to knit. She also had another reason to be excited about science class… she managed to sit next to CC, her crush.

She had a crush on CC for years and it was still there. She knew she would crush on her for years. Speaking of the devil, CC just walked in with a pair of shorts on and her blue hoodie as well as her blue beanie. She wasn’t late as per usual, she didn’t want to mess up with her attendance. “Hey,” CC greeted Katie before she sat down. 

“Hi,” Katie responded, blushing lightly. They also greeted each other in every science class. This time would be different Katie concluded though. She would speak with her more. 

She admired the taller girl next to her before she saw something she could start a conversation about. “Nice tattoo,” Katie spoke. CC looked at her and then down before she saw how her shirt was riding up and her dragon tattoo was sticking out with an obvious lesbian flag on it. “Thanks,” she spoke as she knew Katie was already bisexual due to her being outed 2 years ago but she took it in stride. She, however, wasn’t out to anyone but her football team who didn’t snitch luckily. Katie nodded and smiled. “My friend helped do it,” CC added as she was looking at the smaller girl, deciding to make conversation as the teacher wasn’t in the classroom yet. 

“That’s nice! I always wished I could get a tattoo but my mom would freak,” Katie admitted. “What would you want? And true. My mom freaked but she doesn’t mind anymore,” CC asked intrigued and added how her mom reacted too. 

“I would get a rat tattoo I think,” Katie admitted and CC couldn’t help. “Where would you get it?” she asked, looking her up and down and bit her lip discreetly. “My forearm,” Katie spoke. CC nodded.

“If you want, I can get my friend to do it for you?” CC offered. Katie widened her eyes and nodded. “Yes please,” Katie spoke. CC nodded.

“I’ll sort that out for you. Just give me word when you want it,” CC confirmed before looking forward and friending Katie on Instagram discreetly. The teacher just entered the classroom after all. Katie meanwhile was excited that she was being followed by CC and would help her get a tattoo.

-

It had been 2 weeks after that talk and Katie and CC were talking more. CC walked to Katie’s house and picked her up, walking her to school every day too. Katie was falling faster for the girl day by day and her parents could tell. They honestly knew about it from the start as Katie had immediately told her parents how she thought she was bisexual and they were supportive of her. They just wished that Katie would be happy with CC. Little did she know that CC crushed on her too.

In fact, CC’s parents had been watching her for weeks too and even took note of what horror movies she was watching. “Hey. Nightmare on Elm Street 2 is heavily queer coded right?” Jess asked her when both of them were alone. CC immediately knew what her mom was getting at but tried to deflect the blame. “I don’t know what you mean,” CC spoke, trying to act casual however it didn’t come out like that. Jess heard the panic. “You do… I know you do. It’s ok if you are gay honey, I don’t mind. We love you no matter what,” Jess reassured. CC couldn’t help it but she got tears in her eyes before she hugged her mom. Jess just smiled and kissed her forehead. “Now… tell me about this girl.” CC just laughed and then talked about Katie, about how amazing she was and how she wanted to see her out of school and hang out like normal teenagers.

The next day was a Saturday so Katie wasn’t expecting someone at her house for her. That was at least until noon and there was a knock on the door. “I got it!” Katie called out before she opened the door. She was wearing a flannel with ripped jeans. There was also a shirt under the flannel with a picture of Spider-Man on it. “Hey,” CC spoke casually, wearing a pair of shorts and a football shirt.

“Hi,” Katie asked, her eyes wide. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. I heard you have rats,” she spoke with a grin. Katie nodded happily. “Yeah! You wanna go up to my room?”  Katie asked and CC nodded, walking in and smiling as she took off her trainers before following Katie.

This led to her mom and dad seeing CC and Katie together, both smiling at each other. They were sure the feelings were requited. 

-

This also led to the daily schedule of CC going over every Saturday playing with the rats and just talking or watching films. She even got Katie into football which she was proud of. They had a few rounds now and then and Katie was improving every time. CC was proud of her.

They were currently in the living room where CC and Katie were cuddled up together like usual, watching a kid's movie. They were watching ‘Encanto’ and Katie seemed to love the film. CC was holding her as she smiled, then instinctively kissed her forehead. Katie froze before she turned around and was bright red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” CC immediately apologised.

“Do you… like me like that?” she asked, wanting an honest answer. CC meanwhile was panicking inside and was nodding.  

“Yes, yes I do,” CC responded. Katie smiled before she kissed her and held her hand. “I reciprocate your feelings,” Katie said. CC grinned and smiled, before kissing her harder, soon returning to watch the film. 

-

They had been together for 2 weeks and CC and Katie finally had matching tattoos. They were on the back, and it was a rat with a football as its head. It combined their 2 interests after all. They now had a photo and were prepared to share it online. Their backs were facing the camera, showing them and Katie and her held hands while they were kissing too. They were just thankful for the football team helping to take the photos and angle them perfectly before they hit upload on sharing the photos. 

They sent a smile to each other, kissing each other again before they started to walk to classes, ignoring the whispers and murmurs.

[v-tired-queer]

So You're A Queer Kid and You Spot a Fellow Queer In Public: A Very Quick Guide Because I Have Class in an Hour

I just saw (and reblogged) a post talking about how queer kids will all too commonly approach a fellow queer person in public and unfortunately, are putting others--and themselves--in potentially dangerous situations, not to mention just straight (*snorts*) out uncomfortable. So I got to thinking, "Did . . . did anyone teach the baby gays how to interact with fellow queers in public . . . ?" because, lets face it--technology is advancing, and weather you think it's a good or bad thing, that doesn't change the fact that culture changes with it, especially for kids, teens and young adults. Even language changes for them, like it did for us (I do, in fact, use Vine Language, but I have no idea what drip, rizz or cap is, and at this point, I'm too afraid to ask).

So, queer kids: first of all, hi, nice to meet you! I--a demiflux lesbian--know it's exciting to meet or see another queer person in public, outside of the internet, but remember: safety comes first. So, as stated in the title, here's a quick guide to interacting with other queers in public.

Don't: Assume Anything

Seeing a patch on a jacket or dyed hair and a lot of piercings doesn't always indicate that that person is queer. Maybe they're an ally and wearing the patch in solidarity with a loved one, or maybe they just like alt fashion. Of course there's every possibility that this person is queer, but remember that looks =/= sexuality or gender identity. I'm absolutely positive that you've passed by or met a lot more queer people in public than you realize because a lot of us don't "look" queer. For example, I'm fem presenting and wear a lot of floral print dresses, heels and makeup--a lot of people assume I'm straight (which, rude.) So remember, looks won't always tell you if someone is also queer or not.

Don't: Ask

You know that policy that the US military had called Don't Ask, Don't Tell? Basically, it allowed queer people to enter the military but only on a hush-hush agreement--higher ups didn't ask, and you, as a queer person, didn't tell. Unfortunately, being in public spaces, it's kind of like that. The world just isn't as safe as we'd all like it to be, so we have to be careful. That means not asking someone their sexuality or gender identity in public, where others could hear. If the wrong person overhears that conversation, it could trigger a whole host of bad situations for everyone involved.

Not to mention, it can just be plain uncomfortable. Not every queer person wants to be approached about their sexuality or gender identity. Use your discretion. If someone looks like they really don't want to be approached, respect that.

You also want to be careful about accidentally outing someone. If someone is out with another person, but has a pin on their bag, that doesn't always mean that that person knows about the other person's presumed queerness. For example, when I was a young girl, my mom took me into the city, to buy some new clothes. I used to have a pin with the pride flag on it on my bag, but I wasn't out to her yet. Someone flat out announcing my sexuality to mom because of a pin would have outed me way before I was ready to come out to her. So remember to be discreet.

Do: Complement Them

So, you see a person, you've deduced that they're probably queer, just like you--yay! That's a very exciting thing. I still get excited when I see other members of the community out in public. But again, safety comes first. So, how can you low-key let them know that you know? Complement them! But you want to do it in a safe way, too.

See a patch on their jacket? Complement their jacket, not necessarily the patch itself.

A person has a lot of pins on their bag and one or more is representative of who they are as a queer person? Compliment their pins, plural.

There's a person with blue hair that is just giving off That Vibe? Don't ask if they're queer, just smile and complement their hair.

Trust me, we'll know what you're talking about.

Do: Use Code in Social Settings

I. Freaking. LOVE queer codes. Basically, back in the day, there were a couple of ways that someone could discreetly ask another person if they were queer. For example, asking someone--usually a gay man--"Are you a friend of Dorothy?" was a way of asking if they're gay, Dorothy being a reference to the Wizard of Oz, as the actress who played Dorothy, Judy Garland, is widely considered to be a queer icon. I couldn't find any information on her sexuality, but I did find that a lot of queer people related to her back in the day, if not on a sexuality level than on a personal one.

There was also the green carnations, started by Oscar Wilde, as a subtle cue to fellow queer men that you yourself were a queer man. For women, you could give another woman violets as a representation of sapphic love and desire. Though, to be honest, I'm not sure how well known this one was, especially after the fall of using floriography, or the Victorian language of flowers (which can also be used to express negative feelings for someone, too, just so you know--don't like someone? Send 'em a bouquet. They probably won't get it, but you will).

Queer code still exists and is used to this day! For example, sometimes a sapphic person will ask someone if they listen to Girl In Red, which is a modern way to discreetly ask if someone is also sapphic.

Queer code should really only be used in a social setting. If you're at a café, and you spot someone who is fem presenting, and they seem open to conversation and you want to actually meet fellow queer people, you can ask if they listen to Girl In Red. But remember to read the room, and the person. Not a place where conversation can be had? Then probably not the appropriate place to be using queer code.

Long Story Short

While spotting a fellow queer out in the wild is a very exciting thing, remember that safety and comfort for everyone involved comes first. You never want to accidentally out someone, or put you and them in an unsafe situation. Use common sense and manners.

Happy socializing! 🏳️‍🌈🩷🏳️‍⚧️

[lamardeuse]

We'll find our promised land

by lamardeuse

911 || Buck/Tommy, Buck/Eddie || Rated M || c. 2700 words

Written for @911actions thanks to the kind donation of captnvalkyrie. Hope you enjoy!

Prompt 576: Fanfiction about Buck and Eddie at their first Pride as a couple with the rest of the 118.

2006

The first time Buck goes to a Pride parade, it's a mistake.

His parents are taking him to the Whitaker Center in Harrisburg to enrol him in summer science camp because he nearly flunked science last year. It's not that he doesn't like science – he loves it, actually – but he's been forgetting a lot of stuff lately, and even though he tried to keep on top of his assignments a few slipped through. His mom read his final report card with her face all pinched and he braced himself for the inevitable lecture.

I swear I was trying my best, but I – I kept forgetting.

Well, your best simply isn't good enough, Evan. Now that Maddie is gone, you can't rely on her to be your memory any more. You have to buckle down and smarten up.

He can't remember a time when he didn't feel like he was stupid every now and then, but lately it's been a near-constant thought, mainly because there's no one around to counteract the voice in his head, a voice that sounds more and more like his mother.

He's been to this place before and liked it well enough, even picked up the brochure for their summer camps and had a look at it the last time he was here. Now, though, it feels like a punishment.

Before they reach Market Street, his father slows to a stop and mutters under his breath.

“Why is the road blocked?” his mother asks.

“No idea,” Dad says. “There shouldn't be any construction, I was just here three days ago.”

“Well, a lot can change in three days,” Mom says primly.

His father grunts unhappily, then turns down another street where he finds a parking garage that's nearly full. By the time they trudge down the stairs to the bottom – because of course the elevator's broken – the mood is tense. Well, the mood's always tense, but – tenser. Whatever.

Evan hears the thumpa thumpa of a disco beat long before they reach Market Street. There are random cheers from what sounds like a huge crowd, which is confirmed when they round the corner and come up against a sea of people.

“Oh, for Heaven's sake,” his mother says.

“What's the parade for?” Evan asks. The Fourth of July is another week away, and he doesn't see an American flag waving anywhere. No one answers him.

And then a float goes by with about a dozen guys wearing really tiny shorts and body glitter and not much else, and Evan thinks, oh.

“We can sign him up tomorrow,” his mother says. “We can come back tomorrow.”

His father's jaw twitches. “We came all this way. I just walked down six flights of stairs and I'm going to have to climb up six flights to get the car. Let's just –”

“Do you really think this is a place for children?” his mother says, a little too loudly if the glares of a couple of people around him is any indication.

“I'm not a child,” Evan protests. “I'm gonna be fourteen in –”

“Evan, be quiet,” his mother hisses.

“And lots of gay and lesbian people have kids,” he blurts out.

“Don't remind me,” his mother mutters.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Evan demands.

“Don't take that tone with your mother,” his father snaps.

“How are we going to get through this crowd?” his mother says. “The museum is across the street.”

“I don't even want to go to this camp!” Evan yells. “I'm not stupid,” he adds, more weakly because he doesn't sound convincing even to himself.

“Then don't act like it,” his father says. They stand there for a minute in silence, watching the parade. There's a car going by now, one of those huge old convertibles. There's a really tall lady in a hot pink satin evening gown and matching gloves up to her elbows sitting in the back seat and waving at the crowd. She looks right at Evan and smiles. Evan can't help but smile back. She looks so happy.

“Six flights it is,” his father mutters, turning on his heel and heading back the way they came.

read the rest at the AO3

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

There are easier ways to keep secrets

Summary: Emily confides a secret to Penelope. Penelope, in an effort to keep it a secret, tells a white lie. Eventually the truth is revealed, and everyone has a good laugh. And maybe a relationship or two starts.

Word count: 2017

Can also be read here on Ao3

“Can I tell you something personal?” Emily asked. “Something that I’d really appreciate you not telling other people, but it’s really important to me and I’m telling you because I trust you and know you’ll support me?”

Penelope looked concerned. “Yeah, for sure. I can do important. What’s going on? Are you okay? Is this a champagne conversation or a box of tissues conversation?”

“Uh, neither? It’s really not something I want you making a huge deal out of.”

“Emily, why are you telling me, then? I make a big deal out of everything! I make a big deal about eating the last avocado before it’s gone bad.”

Emily laughed. “Okay, okay, fair point. But it’s not something that needs a big reception, okay? At least, not yet. I’m sure once I work up the nerve to tell everyone else you’ll throw me a party, but not yet.”

“Oh, this is only a temporary secret? And it’s a good, party-worthy thing? Wonderful I can do that. Yes yes, tell me please, tell me now, Emily Prentiss, or I may just explode.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll tell you,” Emily said, putting her hands on Penelope’s arms to calm her down. She took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m lesbian. And that is the first time I have said those words out loud to someone other than my reflection.”

Penelope’s eyes welled up, and she threw her arms around her friend. “Oh my god, Emily! Thank you for telling me! I’m so proud of you, I love you so much, I am so happy that you’re coming to these realizations about yourself, this is so great! So so great! As if you weren’t enough of a history maker already, miss First-Female-Unit-Chief-of-the-BAU. Once you tell everyone you’ll be the first openly gay female Unit Chief of the BAU, and the first gay one in general! You are just awesome on top of awesome on top of awesome. There is so much awesomeness in you, Emily Prentiss. This is so amazing!” 

Emily wrapped her arms tight around Penelope. “And this is exactly why I told you first. You are truly such a great friend, Penelope.”

Penelope was hugging her so hard they were swaying from side to side. “I’m. So. Happy. For. Youuuuuu.”

Emily laughed. “Thank you. Seriously.”

“So… any ladies you have your eye on? Do you have a girlfriend? Is that why you told me?”

“No, no girlfriend yet.”

“Yet? Oh so there is someone.”

“There is a… person of interest,” Emily conceded. “Although I highly doubt that will go anywhere, but it’s okay. I’m just… happy for the realization. It’s nice to be able to put a name to this way I’ve always felt, and how different it is, you know? I was told how I was supposed to feel, and with guys it never made sense, I didn’t understand. But now… wow. They weren’t exaggerating.”

Penelope giggled. “No, they were not.”

***

Penelope came nearly running up to Emily the next day with her quintessential I-did-a-thing smile. “So, I did a thing.”

Emily smiled at her. “I gathered. What thing did you do?”

Penelope extended her hand, showing Emily a ring that appeared to have some sort of sunset gradient on it. “I got you this ring. It’s kind of a subtle lesbian flag design. I thought maybe if you wanted to wear it, it may be a nice way for you to subtly hint-slash-come out to the team and see how long it would take them to notice you were wearing it, but also if you don’t want it that is totally and completely cool because this needs to happen on your own timeline and no one can force you to tell anyone because that’s literally traumatic.”

“Thank you, but I’m just not sure I’m ready for that,” Emily replied. “I think I want to adjust to being out to one person before I’m out to everyone.”

“That makes perfect sense. In that case…” Penelope slipped the ring onto her own finger. “I shall wear it in support of you because you are my friend and I love you, Emily Prentiss.” Emily grinned widely. “I love you too, Penelope.”

***

In the end, it was probably a good thing that Emily had elected not to wear the ring, because Tara’s eagle eyes spotted it right away.

“Hey, Penelope, is that ring the lesbian flag?”

Penelope lit up. She loved it when people picked up on the Pride colors she was wearing, even if they weren’t her Pride colors, and even though she shouldn’t have been surprised, because it was Tara, and Tara had a jean jacket with the pansexual flag embroidered on the back of it in flowers. “Why, yes, it is, Miss Keen Eyes.”

JJ squinted at Penelope. “Is there… something you’re trying to tell us, Penelope?”

Penelope almost denied it, but then froze. She couldn’t tell them the truth, she had to make something up. “Um, yes. I’m lesbian.” Well. That was certainly something.

Tara affectionately punched Penelope on the arm. “Hey, that’s awesome! Thanks for telling us!” 

She received warm words with similar sentiments from the rest of the team, but she’d be lying if she said Luke’s reaction, his slightly pinched face, bothered her the most. She’d also be lying if she said there wasn’t… something between them. Something he now obviously thought he had been imagining, and was actually completely one-sided. And, because he was a complete and utter angel, he’d probably feel guilty about the fact that he’d been flirting with a lesbian, even though he’d had no way of knowing. Oh, and, also, he hadn’t been flirting with a lesbian.

“I have to say,” Tara said, “I was not expecting that at all. I mean, I honestly thought you swung both ways, and you were going to say you were wearing the ring in solidarity of a friend or something, or in support of Lesbian Visibility Week.”

Penelope almost face-plamed. Either one of those options would have made more sense than the one she’d gone with, especially since neither of them were lies. But Penelope was trying to keep a secret and she panicked, so she was stuck in the predicament she put herself in. So she shrugged. “I am full of surprises.”

*** 

“You did not have to lie for me like that,” Emily told her later.

“I know, but I panicked. Whatever, it’s fine. It’s not totally a lie. I am into women, I just have to pretend I’m not also into men.”

“You mean, pretend you don’t have feelings for Luke.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been doing that anyway, so— I mean. What? No!”

Emily smirked and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Penelope…” 

“Okay fine maybe I have something of a huge thing for him but that is beside the point. The point is, I already push those feelings away, so I can do that for however long I need for this. It’s no biggie, I promise.”

***

Tara was, unsurprisingly, the most chill in regard to her reaction to Penelope’s “news.” More than anything, she was just glad it was confirmed that she wasn’t the only queer person on the team anymore.

Reid didn’t say much on the subject, just gave Penelope a hug, and occasionally lovingly rambled off some statistics to her about people who came out later in life. Penelope took note of them to relay back to Emily.

JJ, Matt, and Rossi filled their roles as supportive straight friends, even if they all were a little shocked, since they were sure she had feelings for Luke, but, after all, what did they know?

Emily worked on her confidence. She appreciated Penelope infinitely, but she didn’t want her to have to lie for too long. Plus, the team’s positive reactions only made her feel more secure in her chosen family. She knew they’d love her no matter what. 

Luke felt guilty. He’d been blatantly flirting with Penelope for years, he couldn’t imagine how uncomfortable he had made her. He hoped she wasn’t angry at him. He immediately backed off, more than happy to fill a supportive male friend role like Reid or Matt.

Unbeknownst to him, Penelope was saddened by the sudden lack of extra affection from Luke. Sure, she understood and respected it, since she knew he was just deciding not to flirt with someone who, as far as he knew, would never be interested. He was respecting her. But she missed it. Missed him. If she had ever needed confirmation that she wasn’t imagining the way he felt about her, she had it. And she could do nothing about it.

***

Emily decided she had had enough of the secrets. She wanted to free Penelope from her predicament, and, honestly, she was more than a bit curious to see if she could truly win over a certain tall, dark, and gorgeous woman that had stolen her heart, like Penelope was so certain she could. 

“I have an announcement to make,” Emily stated one morning. Her team looked up at her with expectant smiles. “Penelope and I have been lying to you guys for a few months now.”

Penelope perked up. “Oh, are we telling them?”

“Yes, we are.”

Tara looked between the two of them. “Are you two…?” Emily wondered if she heard a slight twinge of jealousy there. 

Emily laughed the comment off. “No, no, we’re not.” She extended her hand to Penelope, who handed her the ring.

JJ spoke up, confused. “Wait, what’s going on?”

“I came out to Penelope as lesbian two months ago,” Emily explained. “She got me that ring as a small gift, but said that if I wasn’t ready to wear it yet, she’d wear it in support of me. When you guys saw it, she came up with an excuse.”

Tara burst out laughing. “By telling us you were a lesbian? Penelope, there are easier ways to keep secrets!”

“I know! But I didn’t want to out Emily and I panicked. Plus I’m bi anyway so it was only really half a lie.”

“Anyway,” Emily continued. “Yeah. I’m lesbian. So now you know.” 

Emily was quickly met with the same warm reception that was given to Penelope, although it was interspersed with a lot more, “I can’t believe you guys tricked us for months.” She couldn’t have been happier in that moment.

Tara came by Emily’s office at the end of the day. “Hey.”

The sound of Tara’s voice alone was enough to make Emily light up like a Christmas tree. “Hey.”

“I still can’t believe you two pulled the wool over our eyes for months. I can’t believe Garcia didn’t squeal.”

“Nah, she’s good with really big, personal secrets. I think she might hate the idea of outing me more than she hates the idea of keeping a secret.”

“Yeah, that makes sense for her.” She looked at Emily, and something about the way Tara’s gaze traveled her made Emily heat up from the inside out. “I am really happy you felt comfortable enough telling us.”

“Thank you. I think I was just trying to wrap my head around the discovery myself, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Do you wanna go out and get drinks tonight to celebrate?”

“Sure. Who else is coming?”

“I was thinking, maybe tonight… it would just be you and me?” Tara’s confident smile never once wavered.

Emily’s grin threatened to split her face in two. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that a lot.”

***

“So…” Luke started when Penelope joined him in the elevator. 

“So.”

“So… you actually managed to keep a secret for longer than twelve hours.”

She slapped him on the shoulder with her purse. “Shut up. Newbie.”

“And… you’re bi.”

“Mhm. You sound relieved,” she teased. “Are you glad I’m not lesbian?”

“Not that there’s anything wrong with it, obviously,” he answered. “But maybe, selfishly… I’m a little glad? Does that make me a bad person?”

Penelope smiled and slipped her hand into his. “Well, maybe, selfishly, I’m a little glad you’re a little glad. And I happen to think you’re a great person.”

[hyperfixatedoncrimminalminds]

BAU team x LGBTQ + Teen reader

So it's pride month so of course im going to write a oneshot about teen reder making everyone go to Pride with them becuase i dint nearly see enough of these on here.

summary:  It's pride Month and the reader wlaks in to the teams work and demands that they all come to pride with them to celebrate.

Y/N - They/Them pronouns using (any Sexuality)

My headcannons for the team

Hotch

- Bisexual

- definitely Trans (FtM)

-Demisexual as well (loves Haley and obviously had a baby with her)

Rossi

- Biromantic (apart from 3 wifes he definitely experimented with men in his youth)

- Gives the best Dad/Grandad hugs at pride

-Is proud of his Queer children

Spencer

- Bisexual

- Genderfluid (he's my baby he has to be Genderfluid)

-Asexual

Derek Morgan

- Biromantic (hasnt done anything Sexual with a man before because of buford (Bastard)

Emily

- do you have to ask obviously a fucking raging lesbian (definitely had a crush on JJ at some point)

JJ

- Bisexual but is in a committed relationship with Will, had a crush on Emily at some point( I ship them okay)

Penelope Garcia

- Pansexual and Panromantic very open about who she is and is very happy

-Demigirl she still feels like a girl but also not uses She/They pronouns.

(these are my headcannons it's okay if you don't agree woth them just don't come at me in the comments!!)

Third person pov...

It was the first of June which meant Pride Month! Y/N had been excited about it all year, they couldn't wait to get thr team to go to a Pride Parade with them and to celebrate it all together.

Y/N themselves was Non-binary and (What Sexuality you are) and are very proud to be it, they are always seen wearing their pronouns badge and Non-binary pin.

Y/N was making their way to the FBI building, in their hands were mini pride flags and stickers for all their friends, once they got to the floor they skipped out of the elevator and into the bullpen.

The team didn't see them so they quickly began putting each team members flags into their pen pots. Bisexual, Asexual and Genderfluid for Spencer. Biromantic to Derek. Bisexual for JJ. Lesbian for Emily.

As Rossi, Hotch and Penelope all had offices Y/N lefts their flags outside the doors and knocked so they saw them, once the Teen was done they went to the round table and sat on a chair waiting for the team to notice them.

A couple minutes later all 7 members wondered into the room, smiling when they see the teen not expecting them to be there. Once everyone was sitting Y/N stood up.

"Okay guys as you know it's Pride Month, which means Virginia is having its Pride Parade and I was wondering if you'd like to go to it with me?" They ask nervously, they had never asked the team anything to do woth pride even though they had been out as Non-binary to them for years.

Thw first perosn to speak was Penelope they squealed and stood up a giant smile on her face. She then reached out and hugged Y/N tightly. "Of course we will sweetie, won't we giys?" She says making then other all say yes and take turns hugging Y/N.

After they had finished hugging Y/N the teen began ruffling through their bag again and pulled out pin badges for everyone with their flags on. "For you guys I have mine" they say pointing to their Non-binary pin and (Y/S) badge proudly.

Once everyone had theirs, they all went back to work, the pride parade wasn't until that Saturday.

Timeskip...

It was Saturday morning and Y/N was awake and doing their make up for pride, once they were done they left their house and made their way to the middle of town where the team was waiting.

JJ had brought Henry and Will, Hotch also had Henry with him, Y/N was happy to see them all wearing something to do with their flags.

Penelope was decked out in the colours of the Pan flag and had a small demigirl flag painted on their face.

Hotch had a Bisexual flag on his face and a trans flag in his hand, he also had a Demisexual flag pinned to his tshit, Jack was holding a small pride flag in his hand a hug grin on his face.

Y/N almost cried at what Rossi was wearing, it was a tshirt that read 'Free Dad hugs' Y/N laughed when they saw 'Grand' written infront of the Dad part definitely Morgan or Emily's doing, he also had a small Biromantic flag painted on his face.

Spencer was wearing the Asexual colours, had a Bisexual flag tied to their shoulders and had the Genderfluid flag painted on his cheek, he too had a huge smile on his face.

Derek had a Biromantic flag on his cheek and was wearing the Bi colours definitely Penelopes doing.

Emily had the lesbian flag painted on her face and the Lesbian flag tied around her shoulder proudly.

JJ had a Bisexual flag painted on her face, Will was wearing a tshirt that read 'I love my Bi wife' which was cute and little Henry was holding a rainbow flag like Jack.

"You all look amazing!" Exclaimed the teen, very happy to see the team in the spirit, they really thought they wouldn't wear anything especially Hotch. "Let's go enjoy the parade!" They yelled before running into the park.

The park itself was filled with people who were there celebrating pride and wearing their flags. Rossi got so many hugs from teens who got kicked out or aren't supported by their parents which made the old man cry.

They stayed in the park until the parade was starting one it did the team all joined in and took any pictures together to remember the day they had.

By the end the kids had fallen asleep, Jack and Henry had gotten alot of stickers and were covered in them, Y/N was scrolling through their phone smiling at all the pictures and videos they took together.

Before everyone left they stood up and turned to all 7 of them. "Thank you all for doing this with me I had alot of fun" they said making the Adults smile at the teen.

"Of course Y/N, your our kid how could we not do this together" Hotch says making the teen tear up, thw teen then hugs the man tightly to hugs them back

It truly was an amazing day for everyone.

The end!

Hoped you liked thus oneshot, I've been meaning to write thus for days but didn't have any ideas but now here it is.

As always sorry for the grammar and Spelling mistakes. Request are open!

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH!

❤🧡💛💚💙💜

Word count: 1163

[cosmicarchivist692]

Radiorose Week Day 6 BONUS: The Pride Party and Distance

[Radiorose Week Day 6/Turning A Wrong Alley Right]

Rosie opened the door, Al quickly stepped in and started pacing. "Al, what's wrong?"

Alastor stopped for a moment to look Rosie in the eye before pacing again. His stitched smile was as close to a frown as it could be. "Charlie is insistent I participate in this, 'pride party,' today at the hotel. It's going to be crowded and I'm going to likely be bored out of my mind.... Rosie, will you come with me?" Alastor asked, still annoyed he was being forced to go.

Rosie sighed and grabbed Al's hands to get him to stop pacing. "You're going to run a hole into my floors at this rate, and you're going to pay for a replacement." She joked before turning serious, "I do think this would be a good experience for you, but I understand your hesitancy. I will go with you deer."

Al sighed. "Thank you Rosie."

Rosie dressed up a little nicer and came back downstairs and offered her arm to Al. They quickly linked arms and started their walk to the hotel. As they got close they saw a huge pride banner that had been hung from the roof while Al was gone. Al sighed, he was already sick of this month.

Rosie elbowed him lightly, "come on! It'll be fun, I promise."

2 hours and hitting the mandated limit of 2 drinks later, and minimal fun had been had. The most fun he'd had was when Lucifer had accidentally set the kitchen on fire making "pride-ffles" (pride waffles).

Lucifer looked so defeated and the waffels ended up looking like a goth pride flag. Charlie, of course, thanked her dad anyways before he headed up to his room.

Al sat on a seat at the edge of the circle of everyone who were talking and laughing. He sighed, Rosie was in the middle of it all having a blast.

"Y'know, this might be the gayest party I've ever been to." Angel Dust said, getting a laugh from Husk, Rosie, Cherry, and Vaggie.

"Oh, so he gets to say it?" Alastor asked, crossing his arms. The entire room went silent as Angel and Cherry tried to stiffle a laugh. Charlie was slightly mortified and Rosie quickly came over and rested her hand on his. "Deer, when you said it you used it technically as an insult, this was a statement of fact and it's also okay because... well, he is gay."

Al sighed, they had already had this conversation before. "Ah... fine. You're right... I'm sorry Angel for disrespecting you and the other gays-" "queer people" "-when I used gay a couple weeks ago." Angel and Cherry started laughing their heads off.

"Oh no worries Al, we forgive ya." Angel turned to Charlie. "Speaking of my gayness, since you're hosting this pride party Charlie... Do ya know what everyone's sexualality is?"

Charlie took a moment to think, "Well, you're gay, Husk is Pan, I'm bi, Vaggie is lesbian, Cherry you're...?" "Eh, dunno yet, I just fuck who I wanna" "Well, um, okay... Nifty is straight, I think. Al is aroace, and Rosie, you're bi right?"

No one said a word as they just stared at Charlie before all turning to Al. "I'm what now?" Charlie turned red, embarrassed and turned to Rosie mouthing, 'so sorry!' Rosie responded with a sigh and a wave of her hand.

"Wait, the tall strawberry twink over there is aroace? I did not see that coming." Angel said. "Always thought he'd make a good movie star."

"Can someone please enlighten me what this 'aroace' is? And why you are so certain I'm it?" Rosie bit her lip, annoyed, "Al, aroace is short for aromantic asexual. Basically, you aren't romantically or sexualy attracted to anyone. It's part of the lgbt-"

"Wait, so I'm a gay?!" Rosie rubbed her forehead, she was too tired for this crap. "That's why I insisted you come Al... you're one of us, we couldn't leave you out." "You have a lot to learn deer. Starting with the fact that not everyone on the spectrum is gay! The proper term is queer."

"So wait, are you saying that I'm not the only one who's felt this way before? Interesting." Al stumbled up and proclaimed, "In that case, I am indeed aroace. I'm a ga- queer too."

"Sit down deer." Rosie grabbed Al's hand at sat him back down.

The rest of the party went great. Al ended up joining in more and by the end of the night he ended up having a great time.

Al didn't respond.

"Al did you hear me?" He zoned back in and turned to Rosie. "Sorry darling, I must've zoned out."

Al had been doing this more and more often recently, Rosie wasn't sure why. He seemed more distant than ever. "Look Al, you've been doing that more and more recently, is everything okay?"

Al shrugged, "Everything's marvelous."

"Mhmm... that's not true. You've been... distant recently. I'm worried." Rosie stepped closer and tilted her head.

Al took a step back. "It's nothing. I'm just... confused. That's all."

"Confused? About what?" Rosie respected Al's boundary but it worried her more.

Al didn't respond.

"What's going on in those frequencies of yours up there?" Rosie pointed at his forehead and pushed the topic a tad more.

Al finally decided to open up a little and said "I'm confused about us. We've been friends for ages, but we don't act like normal friends."

"What do you mean? Give me an example." Rosie thought she knew where Al was going with this, but wanted to make sure.

"Think of your other friendships and partnerships." Al started. "Think of you act with them. You'd never go on a walk with your arms linked with any of them, would you? Nor would you pick them up and move them around like you do me. What's... what's different about our friendship? Perhaps it isn't right."

"You're right. I wouldn't do that with anyone else. But with you, it's different." Rosie sighed, she didn't know how to explain this to Al. "It doesn't mean this is wrong. Our friendship is just different, we've been friends for... forever. Even before... y'know." She glanced to the side, Al didn't like talking about it.

Al didn't immediately respond, he was lost in thought. "I just don't understand my feelings about it all, darling. They're odd..."

Rosie looked at Al and turned her head. She thought for a moment before saying, "Now I'm not saying anything about anything... but, there is something called a QPR." Al looked up and started paying attention. "It's a sort of friendship that many people in the aroace community end up being a part of."

"Rosie, I thought you said you wouldn't hide stuff about my sexualality anymore." Al squinted and turned his head slightly.

Rosie took a deep breath and told Al, "I have taught you most things about being queer and aroace Al, it's just I haven't taught you about QPRs yet. QPR stands for queer platonic relationship and, like I said, many aroace people end up having one. Now it's not necessary, or anything, just an option. Simplest way to describe what it is, is a friendship that functions similarly to a relationship, except there are no romantic feelings involved."

Al didn't say anything but seemed a little on edge. He waited for Rosie to continue.

"It's more nuanced, of course. It usually happens when two very close friends agree to it." Rosie bit her tongue, hoping Al would finally pick up on a hint.

Alastor's eyes squinted and he suddenly became a little more open to hearing about it. "What sort of things do two people in one do? Is it really everything a normal relationship does?"

Rosie had a spark of hope, but she continued steadily. "Well it's all up to the two people in it, they can do as much ou as little as they agree on. It's very different and open compared to a normal relationship."

Al didn't say anything but thought for a moment before looking back at Rosie. "Sounds interesting. I'd have to think about if that's something I'd ever want to be in."

Rosie nodded, "Of course, there's never a rush. You have a whole afterlife ahead of you after all."

Rosie and Al both nodded with a mutual understanding and they started to gossip about something else. Al did still zone out from time to time throughout the rest of the night, but Rosie didn't mind. He was deep in thought about himself and what he wanted for the future.

Author's Note

I was this close to writing them becoming a qpr in a 3rd section. 🤏 THIS CLOSE. But, as I was rereading everything else I wrote for this week, it wasn't the right time. It felt quite rushed. I even had already written quite a lot of it, but it felt super off. They were characterized mostly right, but it seemed wrong. There must've been too much that happened off camera (writing? What do I call it lol?) and it didn't feel right to rush it. I'd have to do more to lead up to it.

This was originally called 6b, but I think, seeing how I didn't make them official, it being a bonus story is better. I also think, no promises, I will come back to this AU sooner rather than later. (Calling this an AU because no way is Al throwing garlic bread at Rosie canon.) If I do come back, I'm definitely figuring out how to earn making them official.

In terms of how I feel about writing this one? I love the pride party and Al actually learning he's aroace. Going into this one, I knew 2 things. 1. Charlie accidentally let it slip to Al, and 2. Angel caused it to happen. I do see Al as, not necessarily homophonic, but just ignorant to the proper terms. Luckily he's got a Rosie to teach him. Glad to finally finish though, I spent maybe a 3rd of the time working on all these fanfics combined on the two today alone (I'm so tired. I started working on all these fics for the week two weeks before the week began, and finished this one on day 4... and I still have to do day 7).

@radioroseweek

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[kamii-2]

how i think the outsider boys would react to you coming out as lesbian

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

so like this is my first time writing headcannons so i’m very sorry if they suck 😭 please enjoy this post and have a good day :))

i’m sorry that some of them are short then others 😞 idk what to put for them

warnings: mentions of homophobia, cussing, and slurs

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

ponyboy curtis

he would most definitely support you

he would probably ask what it meant

after you told him he would say something along the lines of “OHHH, we’ll just know i support you” and give you a big hug

he would (attempt to) stick up for you if someone was homophobic to you

he would try to put you on with EVERY girl you say is pretty

he would help you tell the rest of the gang about you being lesbian

during pride month he would definitely give you some kind of rainbow or lesbian flag colored gift 😭

he would probably cry when you tell him bc you trust him enough to tell him first

he will definitely almost out you a couple times

like i can imagine him trying to make some random man leave you alone and he says something like “she doesn’t even like bo- ..you.”

johnny cade

johnny wouldn’t know what to say at first 😭

like he would just stare at you then say “..what?”

you’d probably have to explain to him what it means

he would thinks it’s a disease or something

he start to freak out a little 😭 “what does that mean? is it a sickness? is it contagious?”

he would most definitely support you

yk bc he’s gay and all (just like ponyboy)

he would ask you who ur crush is then ask pony to help out you guys on

he would probably accidentally out you to the whole group

like i can imagine him saying something along the line of “so how’s everything going with you and your girlfriend?” then everyone stares at you 😭

tbh i can’t really picture hum doing/saying anything else to you besides checking up on you and your crush/girlfriend

he seems like he wouldn’t care if you were lesbian or straight or anything else

dally winston

he would laugh at you at first bc he tougher you were joking

once he sees you not smiling he said “oh- you’re for real?”

he would be slightly homophobic 😭

he’s the type of guy to accidentally out you to the whole town

he would beat up anybody who made fun of you

he would says slurs but not in a mean way (ifykwim)

bro would jokingly bully you for being gay

like he would say stuff like “that’s why you’re gay” and you would say “don’t you like girls too?”

dally would see something rainbow and immediately say something to/about you

*sees rainbow cup at store* “look its your twin” and he would start laughing extremely loud after 😭

just like pony, he would try and put you on with EVERY SINGLE GIRL you call fine or look at

sodapop curtis

he would give you a big fat hug when you come out to him

he would start to cry a little 😭

he would protect you from homophobes

i could see him yelling at someone or beating them up bc they were homophobic to you

he would be so nice to you and help you with any type of relationship problems

he would be ur therapist

“soda i don’t even know what to do anymore man, i just want her so bad but-“ “shhhh it’s okay, why don’t you find a new crush?”

soda would somehow get you with your crush after only talking to her about you one time

“sooo…how do you feel about my friend y/n?” and then he would go on for like 30 minutes on why she should be with you and stuff like that

he would also get you gifts for pride month 😭

steve randle

he would be kinda frozen for a second

“steve…i like girls..” “……….me too”

he would be super duper chill about it

he would help you with any type of relationship advice or anything to do with relationships

he would teach you how to flirt

he would help you get ready for dates

he would definitely ask you to work at the DX with him and soda just to see hot girls all day (and to actually work, but mostly to look at girls all day long)

he would give you pep talks before dates/asking girls out

two-bit matthews

biggest hype man ever

would yell in happiness at you telling him

you both go to the nightly double and rate random girls

“what about that broad over there” “7/10”

you both have completely different taste in women

“that lady that just walked by was fine as hell” “two-bit matthews, that lady was ugly”

he would be so interested in all of your love life drama (all of the guys are)

he would give the worst advice ever

like don’t trust any advice he gives you bc you might get beat up 😭

he would say slurs aswell but once you tell him what they mean, he would stop

“stop it fag” “two… that’s a slur” “IM SO SORRY, I DIDNT KNOW” then he would give you a big hug 😭

he would attempt to be ur relationship therapist but would fail horribly

darry curtis

he would not care at all

“darry.. i’m gay” “…okay?”

he would protect you from homophobes (they all would)

he would let you rant to him about your love life

idk what to put for him 😭

i’m so very sorry this one is so short

—————————————

i hope you guys enjoyed this post :)) i hope you all have a good day!! bye love you all 💋💋

[sibillascribbles08]

Oh it's aro week ! Here's a short Off Colors drabble for the occasion feat. Leo and April

April watched the credits rolling up the screen of her TV. Leo sat on the bed with her, his shell pressed against the wall and her legs rested over his, as usual on movie nights.

"So..." April broke the silence. "That was pretty good, right?"

"I guess?" He shrugged.

"You guess? What's wrong with it?"

"You know." He waved a hand. "Once again we have this intense adventure plot going on and there's some romance involved."

She sighed. "Leo, that doesn't make it bad."

"I know, I know." He tossed his hands up before crossing them and slouching down further in his seat. "It just has to come up every single time. And like, why? Do people really want romance in all their stories that badly?"

"I mean, yeah? Most people do, I guess." She climbed over Leo to reach the remote and turn the TV off. "Though I kind of get it. Like, why does it always have to be a guy and a girl. We need more girls falling in love with girls."

"No offense April, but I'd probably stick my tongue out at that too." As if to emphasize, he did it now.

April lightly kneed him in the stomach as she returned to her usual seat. "You don't have to complain about it that much."

"It's just... frustrating." He mumbled. "You say it's normal. Dad says it's normal. Hueso says it's normal. But I can't wrap my head around it."

She sank into her pillows and put her legs on his lap again. She took a moment to swallow her anger, after all Leo wasn't trying to be rude about it. He probably really didn't get it.

She tilted her head. "And you're certain it's not a find the right person situation?"

The turtle rolled his eyes and held one of his hoodie strings, swinging it around. "Well gee, how would I even know that? What other teenagers do I interact with besides you? Love you, by the way, but not like that."

"Good cause I don't like boys." She lifted a foot and used it to give his head a light shove.

He pushed her leg back down in an instant. "Dad keeps saying I'll get it when I'm older but he's been saying that for years. Like hello, I'm thirteen now. Doesn't it happen to most teenagers sooner than that?"

She shrugged. "I guess. But you're not exactly most teenagers either."

"Quick, google sexual maturity of red eared sliders."

She snorted at that, and was glad to see Leo crack a smile, but it didn't last.

Then, it gave her an idea.

"Actually, hang on." She climbed off her bed to grab her laptop off her desk. "I might have an idea."

"Are you actually going to google it?"

"No." She smiled and sat back down. "But you remember the whole thing with that flag on my pin board yeah?" She pointed to where it probably was behind her.

Leo nodded. "Yup, lesbian flag. Which you lied to me about at first and convinced me it was a country until my dad had to explain it."

She bit her lip to keep herself from laughing at that old joke. "Right, well there's a lot of other flags out there. I did some brief reading on them and I think one might help explain some things." She pulled up her internet browser and began to type.

He moved his legs and crawled over to sit next to her. "You're telling me there's a flag for people who hate romance?"

"Not exactly that but..." April scrolled down the page, glancing at the various lines of colors until she finally saw the one she remembered. "There, that's the one!"

Leo leaned closer to the screen, studying the bars of green, white, grey and black. "Aromantic?"

"Yeah." She clicked on the hyperlink which brought up the full page. "People who feel little to no romantic attraction." With it loaded she slid the computer onto his lap to let him scroll and read for as long as he wanted.

Which turned out to be for a while. April felt awkward with the silence so she climbed off the bed and grabbed all the empty bags of snacks and soda cans. "You want some water?"

Her friend just let out a hum of acknowledgement that she took as a yes. She carried the trash to the kitchen and tossed it in the bin, passing by her mom in the living room.

"Movie done?" Her mom asked, watching her own TV.

"Yeah, just chatting for a bit."

"He can stay the night if he wants, but you both aren't staying up all night."

"I know." April sighed. It wasn't a school night–they never did movie nights on school nights–but her mom was still mad about three weeks ago when the pair of them accidentally stayed up talking until one in the morning.

She pulled a couple of water bottles out of the wrapped plastic next to the fridge and shuffled back to her room, replying to her mom's quick good night.

Leo was still on the laptop when she returned, though now laying on his stomach and staring at the screen like it held the secret to life, love, and everything.

April wouldn't interrupt. She set his bottle on the nightstand and opened her own, taking a few sips and settling back onto the mattress.

"So..." Leo finally spoke up. "Maybe it is normal? That I'm not into romance? If this is apparently enough of a thing to make a group name for it."

She smiled and lightly scraped her nails over his shell. "Yeah! You might be ace too."

"I assume you don't mean that in the sense of 'extremely cool.'"

She snorted and leaned across his back to use the touchpad. She scrolled down to the related links, clicking on asexual.

"Hm, not as crazy about that flag." Leonardo raised a brow. "Prefer the greens." He scanned the page for a second. "Wait, is there a difference between romantic and sexual attraction?"

"Yeah." April tapped her mouth with the lid of her bottle. "I mean, I don't personally get it but it makes sense? After all, ace people aren't sexually into people, at least not always, but they still fall in love?"

"Hmm, yeah I don't think I'm into any of that."

"Then in that case..." April, still laying on his back, scrolled down again and clicked on the aroace page.

"Huh? They have a different flag?"

She laughed. "There's a lot of those."

"I like this one though." She could practically hear the smile in his voice. "It has blue in it. And orange! Doesn't yours have orange?"

"Yeah!"

"We could match! Sort of!"

"Yeah!" She giggled, and Leo responded, and soon both of them were falling into a fit of laughter.

April rolled off him while catching her breath, and then took another sip of water.

Leo got up and grabbed his own bottle. "It's not weird for me to just go with that, right?" He tilted his head as he frowned. "I mean, what if Dad is right? Maybe I'm still not old enough or haven't meant the right person or something."

She shrugged. "You're allowed to change your mind, Leo. I mean, I thought I was bi until I realized my interest in guys was just me trying to match what the girls in class were doing. Helps that my mom has knowledge about this though, I guess."

She kicked her legs. "Anyway, point is, you can go with it and change your mind later."

He smiled and drank some water. "I almost hope I don't. What if our flags stop matching?"

April snorted and tossed an arm around his neck to pull him close. "I'm sure we can find something else to match."

Leo's smile became softer and he turned to pull her into a proper hug. "Thanks, Apes."

She returned it, though she wasn't entirely sure what he was thanking her for. Could be any number of things, and she chose not to ask.

"Of course, Lee."

[not-so-private-thoughts]

On lesbian relationship abuse

I really do think that queer women* are uniquely vulnerable to abuse in first queer relationships. It’s an experience that I’ve seen anecdotally over and over again in niche queer circles but rarely discussed beyond that. I know there is writing about lesbian domestic abuse from the 1980s and 90s, but I don’t know of much from more recently. With the growing mainstream awareness of queerness, there has been a growing push to sanitize and purify experiences of queerness in order to gain acceptance. This has resulted in moves away from talking about the ugly things that are also a part of queerness. Something from Carmen Maria Machado’s memoir “In The Dream House” that really stuck with me was the idea of over-purifying being dehumanizing. Humans are imperfect and placing the expectation on one group to be above that removes them from that level of humanity. I think that widespread conversations on lesbian relationship abuse will have genuine positive impacts on many lives. It’s hard for me to say if these conversations would do much to prevent abuse or flag early warning signs, but certainly, it’s something that will help survivors. I also know that there are parts of this that will be relevant to straight experiences of relationship abuse, and even other gay experiences, but in speaking from my own experience, this will draw heavily on experiences of lesbianism.

Machado is nearly 20 years older than me, and her experience of queerness is necessarily different than mine because of that. She didn’t talk a whole lot about her early experiences with ideas of lesbian relationships, but I believe that the way we conceptualize those is important. When I was just coming into my queerness, I believed relationships with women to be magical. Why did I place women on this pedestal? I wasn’t as deeply into online spaces as a lot of my peers were, but I dabbled. I was present enough to absorb general attitudes of queerness from queer women. And they were ones of fantasy and perfection. They taught me that girls are soft and sweet and warm. Growing up disillusioned with relationships with men, feeling something for a girl only served to confirm these ideas. The girls I had crushes on gave me butterflies with their smiles and their giggles. The boys I knew bothered me with their boisterousness and grossness and everything else that is just a fact about teenage boys if you ask a teenage girl. Plus, I was a girl, and that sameness immediately earned these crushes an extra level of familiarity. Familiarity, closeness, trust, it all gives someone passes to be shitty. And that’s not to say I am disillusioned with love or care, I believe wholeheartedly in the importance of companionship and partnership. I just also know firsthand how someone can break you by knowing you.

Since rereading “Dream House” this fall, I really haven’t been able to stop turning these ideas over in my head. I see them everywhere. It’s become an obsession. Maybe it’s to do with the closure I never got and my experiences of abuse that have never been voiced or validated. I think moreso though, there is a pervasiveness to these ideas of queer female fantasy that are lovely but so dangerous. They blind us to the cold reality that some women are scary. Like not in a fun romantic way, truly the stuff of nightmares years later. (As a side note, the nightmares that I run into now nearly three years out about her are that we meet today and she is kind to me. Those are the scariest ones yet, because they mean I’ve been wrong all along.)

This isn’t a finished thought, I really do have a desire to turn this into something more, but I have no idea what that means. I want it to be something that has the depth, rigor, and simultaneous accessibility of a high quality video essay, but I have none of the skills for that. And so for now it will simply grow between a personal google doc and an unnoticed tumblr blog.

🪼

*The language here is imprecise and imperfect. By queer women, talking about these relationships, I’m referring to people who are in relationships that exhibit the positionality of lesbianism. Neither party in the relationship must necasarily be a lesbian or a woman. I will contunue to use the words lesbian and queer woman but the understanding of nuance in those terms should be assumed throughout, these words are used for convenience.

[commanderbuffy]

Heart’s Canyon: ch. 3 - orange rainbow dinosaur (snippet)

“Rainbow and dinosaur cake?” Elora asks, fiddling with her pen over the order booklet. “Not the weirdest combo I’ve made for a kid’s cake. Not a problem.”

“Pia was very specific,” Kit explains, remembering the way the young girl had flapped her arms about as she’d talked about her ideal birthday them. “She wants a rainbow dinosaur. More specifically, an orange rainbow dinosaur.”

“An orange rainbow dinosaur. What exactly is an orange rainbow?”

“My brain immediately went to the lesbian flag, but something tells me shades of orange is really what she’s looking for.”

“Okay, let me sketch something up and text it to…you?” Elora asks.

“Yeah, me,” Kit says. “I said I’d organize the cake.”

“You gonna ever tell me where that adorable child came from, why I’ve now seen you with her three times, and why you’re buying her an admittedly over-the-top birthday cake?”

“It’s complicated,” Kit barely brushes the surface of the whole situation.

“Something tells me it’s a bit less complicated that you’re making it out to be.”

Kit desperately wants to change the subject, but she still has another question to ask of Elora. “Pia’s mom, Jade…she and I were high school sweethearts and dated for eight years.”

“Shit.”

“Six years ago, I totally broke her heart and I…dude…I just want her back. Which is stupid and maybe a little desperate. And I don’t know why I’m even telling you this other than the fact that Jade said she wants to try being friends and I told her I had made friends in the past six years so I’m cool with friends, only I haven’t and she told me to bring a friend to Pia’s birthday so what I’m getting at is, please come with me and pretend to be my friend?” The words come out like word vomit and Kit looks up pleadingly at Elora, hating how desperate she sounds.

“Kit,” Elora chuckles in that twinkly sweet voice that makes her sound like a Disney princess. “Of course I’ll go with you. And we are friends. Or, at least, I’ve kind of been operating off that assumption.”

“Oh, okay,” Kit says, stunned. She was pretty sure the only friend she’d ever been successful at making was Jade. And that was never really a friendship. Maybe she didn’t know what friendship actually looked like? “My brother is going to be in town too and he’s coming. He said he’s bringing a co-worker…Grayson or Gravy or something. TBD on if they’re dating or not, you never know with Airk, so it’ll be a weird hodgepodge.”

“I said I’d go,” Elora smiles. “You don’t have to convince me. Now let me get to designing this cake. It’s going to have to be perfect if I’m going to be there to see the birthday girl’s reaction.”

[toastybugguy]

This is a small, joyful moment I had during the D.C. pride parade last weekend that I just have to share.

We (me, my mom, my dad) are standing in the staging area to be in the parade. We end up standing there for quite some time waiting for the parade to begin, and in the same company group as us is an energetic late-teens-to-mid-twenties looking girl wearing the progress pride flag, who is accompanied by who I assume is either her mother or grandmother, an older transgender lesbian woman. She’s wearing a lesbian flag blouse, a stained glass patterned skirt in the trans flag colors, a large round sun hat, and sunglasses. She looked so fabulous, and I couldn’t help but notice her. There weren’t many people there in specifically trans apparel. I want to say something, but there is absolutely no casual way for me to express the emotions I feel when I see her— old, trans, happy, alive.

I, wearing my trans flag around my shoulders, was predictably too shy to say anything while we were in the staging area, despite the fact that we were near each other several times while waiting for the parade to begin. I could vaguely feel the same energy emanating from her when we were around each other, but neither of us said anything.

Then, the parade began. We had gotten moving and were walking for somewhere in the ballpark of just 5-10 minutes when the woman came up to me. She asked me if I wanted to help hold a banner (one of the three the company we were walking with had), and I turned to see the girl with the progress flag holding one of the rings on the end. She smiled widely at me and looked grateful to rest her arm when I said “Sure!” And quickly bounded off to rejoin the other lady. My mom was a few steps behind me, looking very pleased.

Only a few minutes later I felt a hand on my back, and because my mom does that all the time I assumed it was her, but come to see it’s the older woman again. She has the most beautiful, happy smile on her face, and says to me in such a gentle and genuine tone, “You look great.” I have a cape around my shoulders and I’m wearing trans-tape on my chest in public for the first time ever. Her hand remains on my back. I laugh, not because it’s funny or because I don’t believe her, but because I’m so happy I have no other way to express it. I thank her and tell her how much I love her outfit. She rejoins the young girl.

I hold that banner for almost the entire parade after that. By the end, I’m a professional at holding it with my one hand and waving a small flag with the other. My arms are tired, and I don’t care one bit. Occasionally, I watch the crowd cheer for the older woman as she passes. My mom and I pick out as many people behind the barricade holding trans flags or wearing trans apparel as we can— so many of them are young, younger than me— some with a parent— at that age when being trans exists with a couple people in your bubble, and they look excited but shy in the way I often used to. They are excited to be at pride, but are waiting to feel like they, too, belong there, the way a lot of trans kids are. I wave to every single one of them. I make a point of showing off my flag. Their faces light up every time. Each of them have the most glowing smiles.

There’s a way to connect it all. I picked this woman out of the crowd because, simply by being there, she was a reminder to me of trans people growing old, of living long and happy trans lives, of having loving families, of having a future. She picked me, a scrawny trans guy wearing my (our) flag like a faux superhero, out of the crowd because I am a reminder of trans people continuing to exist, of having a place. We pick each other out because we are members of the trans family. We are both a momentary expression of trans people fearlessly living. When that woman and I spoke, the day was ours.

There’s something so innate about being trans and seeing other trans people, especially those younger than you, and wanting them to thrive. I wave to every person donning the trans flag because a woman I didn’t know made me feel seen. I wave to them because there is no limit to how much trans people can touch each other’s lives. I wave to them because I want them to take up space— because my first pride was D.C. pride, years ago, when my friend was in the march and my mom and I clambered over the barricade at their request (I nearly fell; the hands of people in the crowd grabbed and steadied me. I never saw their faces.), and I had my shoulders hunched the whole time because, even on a day of community and acceptance, I didn’t know if I had the right to be there. They should know that they do.

Maybe on some level, this is why we choose to put a flag around our shoulders during pride. The trans flag is a cape to all of us who own it— it rests upon the same place the hands of our trans family do. And when this year’s pride month ends, the day is still ours.