#just a table full of the lgbts

[tevinter-pariah]

Shoutout to academic literature™️ for giving me those Critical Role Campaign 2 spoilers I’ve been trying to avoid for the past few years. Truly an experience I never expected and would rather not replicate again.

[thesituation]

i can’t stop the gay thoughts i’m down atrocious rn. i might get a girlfriend before moving out bro i don’t know if i can wait until summer anymore. i want a girl NOW

[skylarsblue]

✦Incorrect C.o.D Quotes Nine✦

(Sexual Implication) Ghost, trying to be sexy by whispering: Gaggin’ for it, aren’t ya, love? Soap: Nope. Ghost: No? Soap: I don’t gag on anything. Ghost: *404 Error* Soap: …Ghost? Si? Simon, are you alright?

-- Y/N: Let’s play a word association game! Ghost: Why? Y/N: Because I saved your ass last mission and I’m bored, so you owe me. Ghost: *sigh* Fine. Y/N: P e r f e c t . Gaz: ?? Y/N: Cold. Ghost: Winter. Y/N: Spring. Ghost: Mattress. Y/N: Soft. Ghost: Comfortable. Y/N: Pleasant. Ghost: Sunset. Y/N, With a shit eating grin: Beautiful. Ghost, unconsciously: Johnny- Y/N: YES Gaz: OHHHHHH Ghost: Soap: *gasp* Simon!~ Ghost: I’m going to go crash in a heli. Y/N: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT-

-- Alex: Bitch do you want me to jump across this table? Because I don’t have all day for this. Norris: You feeling froggy? Leap. Alex: Okay, well here I come- Farah: Alex no, no- hOLD OFF

-- (NSFW Joke) Y/N: Oh sorry. I almost drank out of your cup. Soap: Wh-Just go ahead, it won’t matter! Y/N: Well I- Yeah no, you’re right. I’ve drank out of your cups dozens of times. Soap: We’ve sucked the same dick- Y/N: That’s a good point! Ghost: ….*sigh*

-- Gaz: What kind of girl do you like? Soap: My wife. Gaz: And you? Ghost: Johnny’s wife. Gaz: OH- Price, knowing they recently started a poly situation: Pfft-

-- (Use of the word pussy because haha) Gaz, filming: Pffft- Soap: Shhshh- Y/N in the hallway: FORTY THREE FUCKING CENTS! AHHHHH Soap: *wheeze* Y/N: I NEED A SUGAR DADDY!! Gaz: PFFFT- Soap: I can’t breathe- Y/N: At this rate I’m ready to plaster my fuckin’ pussy on the sidewalk for some sPARE CHANGE! Gaz & Soap: *doing that silent cackle thing and smack each other in the arm* Ghost, leaning into the room: What the f- Y/N: SPAARE CHANGE, SPARE CHANGE! ANYONE GOT ANY SPARE CHAAANGE?! Gaz: *coughing* Soap: Steamin’ Jesus I’m fucking crying- Y/N, passing by the room: 🎵Walkin’ in a winter wonderlaaaand🎶

-- Y/N: Would you love me? Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Y/N: Gaz: Would I love you if…? Y/N: nO ThAt wAs tHE QuesTiOn-

-- Y/N: Pretty boy! With me I said! Rudy: Rudy: Rudy: Oh I’m pretty boy! Y/N: Yes! Oo that came out a bit quick- (Also works with Soap & Gaz, honestly)

-- (THIS IS A CONCEPT IM TOO WHIMPY TO WRITE, SO HAVE IT HERE! THIS COULD WORK WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS Also, NSFW warning) Ghost: I don’t miss. Y/N, on his ear piece: Never? Even with distractions? Ghost: *turns his scope* Not ever. *just about to take a shot* Y/N: Hmm…what if I went… Mm Simon~ Ghost: *misses* Y/N: Ya missed. Ghost: Cheeky bitch…

-- Gaz: Alright, so, since we’re now in America and we have some time to kill, I went and I got you something. Y/N: Aww Gaz, you really didn’t have to- Gaz: *puts down their Whataburger order* Y/N: OH MY GOD Price: Really? Gaz: *shrug* Soap: *snickering as Y/N Fucking demolishes some fries* Y/N, having the time of their life: Garrick you ever need your dick sucked, a dead body buried, a beer or whatever, you call me. I got’chu Gaz: BAHA- Soap: *wheeze* Ghost: Are you fucking crying? Y/N with their mouth full: I missed it so much.

-- (Team bonding exercises) Soap: You’re a football player, it’s in ya blood! Gaz: That’s racist. Soap: Your soul? Gaz: That’s racist! Soap: …your eyes? Gaz: That’s gay- Soap: That’s homophobic. Gaz: That’s black. Soap: That’s racist!! Gaz: Damn- (this one is extra funny since Gaz is now confirmed LGBT)

-- Gaz: You overrated little twink! Soap: Hey I am a TWUNK, alright?! That is a combination, twink, and HUNK, get it?? Hunk-

-- Soap: Hey~ Fem!Y/N: You’re Gay. Soap: …oh yeah. Soap: *looks at Ghost* Soap: Hey.~ Ghost: *sigh*

-- Soap: I’m gonna have to meet men lying down. Y/N: …I thought’cha did?? Soap: OI!

-- Soap: Everyone says what a giving person I am! Y/N: He’s talking about when you’re in an upright position.

-- Graves: What if there’s a connection? Y/N: I think there’s a connection between your brain and wallpaper paste.

-- Shepard: Now you’re always ornery, rude, unpleasant, and sometimes downright mean. That’s part of your charm. Y/N: Thank you, you colluding-county-hopping-idiotic-relic. Price: *pride*

-- Alex: Oh my god, how are you such a good driver? Soap: Because there’s illegal shit in here. Alex: Soap: Because if I don’t use my turn signal, we’re both gonna do fifteen. Because I am going to lie and say yours. Alex: ….. Soap: Put your seatbelt on, sweetheart. Alex: *clicks it in places* Soap: You are not safe!

-- (Sucking dick joke) Kidnapper: You’re gonna do as I say or I will make you regret ever being born. Y/N: Oh please, I’ve sucked dicks more intimidating than you. Soap: Oh this is why Simon was the way he was after we rescued you both last time.

-- Soap, shoving marshmallows in his mouth: This isn’t very ha-*chokes* MILF!Y/N, across the fucking base: ….*mom instinct* Price: ??? Ghost: Uh- Y/N: Something just happened. Kyle: PFFT-

-- MILF!Y/N: *letting Soap & Gaz lean on her while Price and Ghost stand close behind* Untrue. I’m a mother now. It’s really changed my perspective. Graves: And do you find it hard juggling life and a career? Y/N: You can juggle these nuts.

-- Soap: *rambling* Soap: Agh, sorry, I’m just goin’ on and on- Ghost: Oi, keep talking before I kick your ass. Soap: ….. Gaz: See? This is exactly what I m-where the fuck are these flower petals coming from?? ARE THOSE SPARKLES??

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

I’ve seen someone else mention this, but I also wanted to talk about this

The erasure of queerness in the movie is something I definitely did not expect.

Sure, it’s a love story between two men, but grab Alex and Henry and make them a man and a woman, the movie doesn’t change much. Maybe monarchy instead of being homophobic and racist now it’s only racist, and they hate Alex not because he’s a man but because he’s brown. They kept it a secret because of monarchy’s racism, but love triumphs at the end. That’s why the movie didn’t hit as hard as the book. The movie is just some forbidden love movie, rwrb is a book where the main characters are in a forbidden relationship, but it’s not the whole point of the book.

Alex discovering his sexuality, Nora being bisexual, whatever Pez had going on, whatever June and Nora had going on, Alex learning about queer history, the historical lgbt love letters at the ends of their e-mails, all the references to queer history and literature, THE SHELTERS, monarchy’s homophobia (yes, it appears on the movie but it’s really glossed over. It doesn’t show just how homophobic they actually are in the book), Alex stating how he knows more about himself the more intimate (both in the sexual and non sexual sense) he is with Henry, Luna being gay and unapologetic about it and being exactly Alex’s queer role model, even before Alex knew he was queer himself, THE FUCKING SHELTERS

I’m so so mad about the shelters being missing.

Henry and Pez made shelters for lgbt youth, so they can never feel as alone as Henry once felt, so they can always have a safe space so they know there’s nothing wrong with them no matter what the adults in their life might say, no matter what the preacher or their classmates or the right wing politicians in their tv might say, where they can find hope, and friends, and a home if they never had one before, or at least, one where they could truly be themselves. The shelters are, I would say, crucial to Henry’s character development. He went from hiding, believing being gay was “the most unforgivable part of him”, not even trying to come out because he just succumbed to live an unhappy life in the closet, to someone who’s out, living with his boyfriend and running lgbt shelters with his best friend so young queer people can move past all the things he felt and believed time ago, so they know they are perfectly normal and loved and safe in there, as long as Henry and Pez are there they’re safe, they don’t have to hide anymore.

Henry became the queer elder he needed in his life when he was younger. The lgbt adult who could tell him than it would get better, no matter how bad it was at the moment, no matter if he couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel, because it was there, he just had to hold on a bit more. Than there was absolutely nothing wrong with him.

Another thing than I seen changed than a normal person might not notice, but I did, because im obsessed, is the karaoke scene.

In the book, it takes place in something resembling a gay bar (maybe not exactly, but it’s full of queer people), and look at this

Three rounds of shots appear —one from a drunk bachelorette party, one from a herd of surly butch chicks at the bar, and one from a table of drag queens. They raise a toast, and Alex feels more welcomed than he ever has before, even at his family’s victory rallies.

Look again

and Alex feels more welcomed than he ever has before, even at his family’s victory rallies.

This book is about about finding community, finding yourself, finding love and letting yourself accept that love.

Do you think Alex in the movie has felt “more welcomed than he ever has before, even at his family’s victory rallies” at any point? Has he been with another queer person in the whole movie, except Henry, at all?? Because Nora’ sexuality was not mentioned at all no references nothing and with the whole Pez thing everyone could see Nora as just straight

Henry and Alex in the movie are kind of without community, alienated from it, they are, in my personal opinion, the kind of gay people republicans would consider “good gay people” who “don’t shove it on everyone’s faces and just wanna be left alone” (in the rwrb universe where they exist and are real not actual republican people watching the movie). They don’t really take a role on the community, in the book, Alex and Henry being queer is an important part of themselves, again, Alex feeling like he knows himself better, Henry whole internalized homophobia, their shared interest for lgbt history and literature, Henry and Pez making the shelters, etc etc meanwhile in the movie Alex and Henry just happen to be gay and bisexual, but it’s no deeper than that.

And don’t get me started on creating Miguel, a queer character, and making him the one to leak the e-mails or smth instead of a republican candidate

[ohsalome]

love seeing people (westerners) WHO HAVE NEVER EVEN MADE A SINGLE PEEP ABOUT UKRAINE AID, EVER, reblog russian lgbt aid funds after the recent news.

i'm very anti whataboutism but holy hell. when it comes to a certain country we all agree that liberation comes before improvement of lgbt issues. *i* agree with that, at least. but then the same people would rather pay to save lgbt people from a country that's actively besieging another country, it's just... beyond words how hypocritical it is.

I have so many things to say, none of them being nice.

Ukrainian army is, so far, the only force that is presenting challenge to "putin's regime". Wouldn't it make sense for people who "want to protect russian lgbt+s" to support us then? We are conctantly being degraded for "not allying with good russians" who are supposed to be our "natural allies" because they are "anti-putin".... Funny how it doesn't work the other way around, doesn't it? And yes, I have personal experience with russian lgbt+ and feminist circles (prior to the full-scale invasion), and I remember clearly how they explicitly ignored all pleas from ukrainians to speak up on our behalf. And how can one forget the famous "women have no nationality"...

This is, from my memory, the third time russia has "banned lgbt+s", and I believe I have a good reason for being sceptical about the real consequences of russian laws which, as we all know, are worth a little more than toilet paper. It is common knowledge which people of russian elite are gay, and I sincerely doubt their life will change in any way with this new law. As a matter of fact, most of them are a part of russian propaganda machine, like the infamous Anton Krasovsky. Also, what is the point then of this law, if it functionally duplicates all the previous ones already existing and brings nothing new to the table? I will not repeat the conspiracies about "diverting attention from Ukraine", because you've probably already heard of them. My own conspiracy is that its goal is to further the international reputation of russians as innocent victims of the regime, all while ukrainians are being actively slandered and forced into fake opposition with palestinians. One example relevant to the discussion I've seen recently is a post of a russian "war refugee" who has fled from russia either when the war started, or during one of the mobilisation waves. She was complaining about how much she dislikes living in the West and how she plans to return to russia, fully knowing that it is an authoritarian hellscape, and she will have to collaborate with it, because "it is more comfortable there"... This is what I think about russian "victims of the regime" - this is all masquerade for them, which they are ready and happy to take off once they are tired of play-pretending being part of the civilized world and want to return to their comform zone swamp.

Just like pussy riot monetizing Bucha imagery for their fame and profit, russian lgbt+s jumped on the oppostunity to appropriate the suffering of ukrainian war victims to earn more $$$$$. And I blame western media which has for day one has put us on the same scale, equating ukrainian civillians to russian ones, even though only one side has to live under constant bombardment, only one side had to seek refuge due to the threat of occupation, only one side is being actively genocided... But russians are having meanie mean words said about them on the internet, and this is just as bad - nay, mayhaps even worse! Remember how during the first months of full-scale invasion westerners were claiming that russians will starve to death due to sanctions, and I was preaching to the choir trying to explain that we are literally dying due to west feeding the russian war machine that is exterminating us? Well, almost two years have passed, no russian have famished because Chanel has left the market, they are successfuly importing all the missiles components through Kazakhstan, and Ukraine cannot even count all the losses we've had because how much of our territory remains under the occupation. But westerners have already congratulated themselves about how they've "immediately gifted ukraine all the weapons they need once the war started" (hahaha!) and moved on to playing with their new palestinian toy, all while for some reason pitting us against each other (and stealing footage from Syria and Ukraine to misrepresent them as Palestine)

Oh and don't get me started on western "political activists" who go out of their way to mention every single conflict happening on planted earth, excluding Ukraine. I will never forget that.

[very bitter and pessimistic conclusion censored]

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids,

Dealing with homophobia (and other forms of discrimination or hate) takes a lot of strength.

You may think about people who have to go face-to-face with homophobic people, like listening to (or even arguing against) your dad's anti-gay rant at the dinner table - but it's not only situations in which you could point at one person in the room who is clearly being homophobic right now.

It's also walking into a room full of people you never met and instantly feeling like there's a target on your back. It's sitting amongst your friends and wondering if they'd still be there if they knew. It's lying in your bed at night and feeling overwhelmed by the thought that there is just so much hate out there.

It'd be absolutely wrong to say that being gay is nothing but constant sad thoughts about homophobic people - but we do carry the knowledge with us that homophobia exists. Even if it's not aimed at you directly or you are not staring in its face right that moment, it is a burden to carry that with you.

Sometimes we don't think about that burden at all and sometimes it can literally feel like a huge weight is lying on our chest.

If it feels heavy for you right now, it's not a sign that you are weak. You are actually doing a very brave thing! You are carrying something really heavy... and also invisible. Something you maybe can't really share with others or feel like they don't understand. That is a tough thing to deal with and you are dealing with it! Giving yourself permission to actually feel the weight of that burden takes a lot of strength - and you do that. You feel the weight and you are still here. Good job, little fighter.

With all my love,

Your Tumblr Dad

[bullet-prooflove]

City Boy: Che 'Taza' Romero

Tagging: @drabbles-mc @ficnation @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

The first thing Taza notices about Ben is his ability to connect with other people.  The other man has an easy smile, and a laugh that resonates through his entire body, the kids flock to him and he makes the time for each and every one of them. It’s important in a community like theirs, parents are fighting tooth and nail to put food on the table, they send their kids to the community centre, to a place they know they’ll be supported and listened to.

He doesn’t realise he’s an LGBTQ counsellor at first, not until Riz explains it to him.

“Latinx LGBT youth are 45% more likely to attempt suicide compared to non- Latinx youth, it’s an epidemic.” The younger man tells him.

A lot of these kids don’t have a safe space to explore who they are, the community centre is trying to change that by becoming an affirming space, picking up the mantle where home and school can not.

Carmen’s brought Ben in to address that issue. He’s run successful programmes up in Boston, Detroit and Cincinnati and now he’s here in their little border town. Taza sees the disparity and it makes him wonder why Ben’s really here. Santo Padre shouldn’t even be a blip on his radar, not when he’s running programmes with big city money.

When he asks Carmen, she gives him a look, one that he’s become well acquainted with throughout their friendship.

“Ask him yourself.”

Taza decides to bite the bullet and do just that.

Ben’s in the midst of his lunch break Taza sits down across from him. He’s eating empanadas from the food truck outside and writing something down into a A5 notepad. His handwriting is neat and concise.

“You have questions.” He says in that gruff voice of his, closing the note pad and setting his pen down on top of it.

“Yea, a ton of them.” Taza responds, his arms crossed over this chest.

“You can ask me over a beer tonight.” Ben says as he finishes up his lunch. “I’ve got back-to-back sessions, starting in the next five minutes.”

This is how it starts, the thing between the two of them.

After the community centre has closed Taza finds himself standing in the garden that Lila helped create. There’s fairy lights entwined in the wooden struts that jut out of the ground, casting a warm glow across the space. In his hand, he holds a beer from the local brewery. It’s the one with the citrus tang, his favourite.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Ben says as he stands next to him. “You don’t get to see stars like this in the city.”

“I heard you were a city boy.” Taza returns, tilting his head so he can study the profile of Ben’s face.

He’s a handsome man. A full head of salt and pepper hair that Taza wants to run his fingers through, it matches the beard that lines his jaw. His shoulders are board, muscular like a boxer’s. Taza wonders if that’s what Ben does in his spare time.

It’s been twenty-five years since he’s felt this way about another man. He’s had fleeting attractions in the past, but this is different. It transcends physicality, he wants to know this man intimately. His thoughts, his feelings, his hopes, his dreams. He wants everything.

“I was.” Ben responds to Taza’s question before he gestures to the memorial bench underneath the fairy lights. One of the kids had taken his own life last year, Carmen had wanted to make sure he was remembered, and the bench was how she honoured him. Taza sits down alongside Ben, their knees bumping against each other lightly. “Small town living sits me better these days.”

“Why here?” Taza asks, gesturing at the landscape. “Santo Padres a big step down from the kinda cash you must have been pulling in the big city.”

“Not everything is about money.” Ben says quietly, his thumb scratching away the label of his beer bottle.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Taza points out as he watches the paper peel.

“No I didn’t.” Ben says as he reviews the skyline.

Silence falls between the two men. It’s a mild night, it’s light and balmy. The scent of Ben’s aftershave floats along the breeze, something earthy with a mandarin overtone. It’s intoxicating, rich and deep, Taza wants to spend the rest of the night breathing it in. He’s tired of being alone, of hiding the truth about who he really is.

“My partner died.” Ben says finally into the space between them. “I couldn’t stand living there without him, so I left.”

“I’m sorry.” Taza says softly.

He means it. He knows what it’s like to lose a piece of yourself. He thought he would spend the rest of his life with David and then El Palo murdered him.

“You didn’t kill him.” Ben says taking a sip of his beer.

“Someone else did?” Taza questions.

Ben runs a hand through his hair, a loose wave falls across his forehead and it takes everything in Taza not to reach out and brush it away.

“Yea.” Ben says as he stares straight ahead. “Someone did.”

“I lost a friend the same way back in 95.” Taza finds himself telling Ben. “It destroyed me.”

There must be something in the tone of his voice, he doesn’t realise he’s betrayed himself until Ben asks.

“Just a friend?”

It’s the first time he’s talked about David, he hasn’t breathed the other man’s name in over twenty years. It still hurts to think about him even after all this time, but there’s a catharsis in it because sitting here with Ben…

He knows the other man gets it. He might be the only other person in the world who does.

“I loved him.” Taza confesses into the darkness. “And he loved me.”

“Your club doesn’t know do they?” Ben says, taking a swig of his beer.

 Taza shakes his head.

“I’d appreciate it if it stays that way.”

“I’m not in the business of outing people.” Ben tells him as he leans back against the wood, his arm coming to rest along frame. “That’s not what I’m about.”

“This is probably the most honest I’ve been with anyone in twenty-five years.” Taza says quietly, rolling the beer bottle between his palms.

“That’s a long time to hold a secret.” Ben says as he tips his head towards Taza. “Let me ask you something, does it still need to be a secret?”

“I don’t know anymore.” Taza says as he studies the label of his beer bottle. “Five years ago, I would have said yes but now… Things are changing, we’re more involved in the community, in programmes like yours, I don’t know if it matters anymore.”

“Give it some thought.” Ben says as he raises to his feet, his hand lightly clasping Taza’s shoulder. “You might find it’s time to step into the light.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[dyrewrites]

**Writing tags**

All the stuff I've written, or am currently writing, in a convenient spot so as not to get bogged down by the myriad of tag games I like doing.

-> common tags used are also tagged on this post <-

A warning, of a sort.

Trauma is spread thick and deep throughout these pages. My stories tend to dig down into dark, uncomfortable, confusingly depraved places and languish there. In some cases they roll around and giggle there. I promise some resolutions, and breaths of sweet release. There are quiet moments to counterbalance the agony…but not everything resolves easily - or at all - and there are always worse horrors around the corner. If that sounds interesting to you; grab some tissues, find a safe, comfortable place where you can snuggle up and allow me to invite you into the dark recesses of my imagination. 

**Published**

In Fog -- Novella

Available in ebook and in print

Horror Romance // Supernatural // LGBTQ+

Memories live in shaky breaths, in gasps and giggles, in screams and tightly held silence. The moments adored, the moments feared, all soon forgotten which lie in wait for peace, for quiet, when they can be felt full and complete, relived in visceral detail. It was one such memory that took me then, standing at the edge of that long abandoned park, eyes jittering too fast to make out the rusted playground in all its growing shadows. I didn't need to see it. I knew its shape as surely as I knew my own. I remembered the curves of its slide, the jagged holes in its stairs, its broken bars, and its crooked playhouse. It had changed over the years, as all things are wont to do, but still I knew it. Then, as fog rolled in to pierce those familiar shapes with the eerie whites of its jagged fingers, slipping with such ease to fill the cracks my mind could not…I wondered if the park remembered me. It answered, in its way. With a gasping breeze it fluttered the fallen leaves, toying with the weight of them as easily as it did the tail of my coat. We did not speak, the park and I, not in words. Yet we understood one another through the memories that followed. In those memories I felt your hands—chill as ever against my cheeks–and we were together again, whole as we were meant to be, whole as we had been so many years ago…

In the Marrow -- Short

Horror // Suspense // Supernatural

Hazel’s bones are creaking louder than they ought to be and there’s something off about the light on the second floor of her home, something that smells decidedly hotter than sunlight should.

Excerpt

She had no time to consider the fresh oddity as the midday sun raged and fierce orange light broke free of the window and rushed into the hall. It burned along the tables, blasted through vases of crumpled flowers, crackled along family portraits and clawed across the worn and peeling wallpaper. The sunlight devoured all it touched in its searing bright and she felt, in its baleful glow, an insatiable hunger. A hunger for her.

Can’t You See Me? -- Short

Horror // Suspense // Supernatural // LGBT 

Madelyn died a few weeks ago, which is fine, she’s fine, but her wife and kids haven’t noticed…and that’s less fine. She needs them to see her, to know she’s gone, how else can she move on?

Excerpt

It was a silly idea, really. I don’t even know why I tried it, but I did. I had to. I could go downstairs after all, anywhere in the house actually, there’s just so little point in it if no one could see me, you know? But frost, in July? That they’d see. That they might investigate. Where to put it was the question, I could only scream so long before everything went fuzzy and then I went away. I wasn't sure where I went, it was just…away. Somewhere else. Somewhere dark and cold and empty. I didn’t like being there but if it meant being seen by my family again, of them finding my body and pulling me out of this strange in between I was in…

The Portrait -- Short

Horror // Suspense // Supernatural // Historical

Miriam was kept but kept well, pampered even, without need to work or wed or endure the shame of aging within her parent’s rooms. Aunt Mimi had left her a life of solitude and luxury. And so, though the sight of it prickled her skin and stole her breath, she did not throw out the package in the foyer. She would open it, and hang it, and allow its eyes to watch—to leer—because it was a gift from Aunt Mimi.

Excerpt

Portraits were leering things that sought to reclaim as much as was captured to create them and that belief, that discomfort—that abject terror—was why she did not allow them in her home. It was the reason not a single portrait adorned her walls, only empty spaces where faces once loomed…and it was, of course, why the parcel bothered her so. Why it sent her into a panic that sent her, in turn, to the floor and scooted her into a wall. 

Don't Look -- Short

Horror // Suspense // Supernatural // LGBT

The apartment is cheap. Good area, rent controlled, a dream come true. Sure, it’s a bit drafty and the hinges creak and the pipes bang but that's normal for an old building. It's the smell that’s worrying. It’s only in the bedroom and it gets stronger near the hatch in the closet...

Excerpt

And I stand in the shadows of the doorway. Unsettled, uncertain…but it’s been paid for, papers signed, and it’s not the end of the world if the landlady is a bit of a creep. We can look past that. I can look past that. How often does one see their landlady anyway? It’ll be fine. It’s a nice building, in a beautiful city, for practically pennies. “Everything will be fine,” I whisper to the threshold of my new home, my new life, but it rings strange to my ears—like a lie—as I step inside.

** Finished / In Beta**

Weald and Wen: Book One of Children of Mar -- Novel

Dark Fantasy // Horror // Nonhuman // LGBTQA+

Weald and Wen -> prologue

Mar flourished once. Warmed by the heat of the Lady’s Heart, its lands stretched full within the walls of a great, glittering egg. Then its shell cracked and a darkness seeped in; squirming, hollow and hungry…

There had been neither antler nor tail to mark the passage of Auru hunters through the Weald for full rotations. Yet Mitra heard of hungry shadows from the few of their traders—those yet willing to deal with her—as they packed up and headed for the relative safety of the Wen. They spoke of fewer creatures skittering along the trunks and grass and far fewer hunters willing to seek them through the Weald's deeper woods, or the Dreadmire that split it from its Wen twin–her brother's Dreadmire. The news of fewer meals scrounging his fog had sent her brother into a clanking fit. He blamed gasps in the Breath, or magics running rampant and demanded she find the Touched responsible. A task she was certain would prove fruitless. The Weald was vast and flush with dark places for things far worse than shadows to dwell. It was more likely that the hunters were lost to Naemit webs or Fiori mists than shadows, no matter how hungry they might be. But at the sight laid bare before her, at the carnage in shades she had not seen for ages, all of Mitra's assumptions rotted away. What left that statue could not be the work of Weald predators, wayward gasps of the Lady's Breath or even a wielder of its magics.  That horror, which squelched into deeper dark, had been cold, empty...and familiar. 

**WIPs**

Pale Blood: First Book of Morne (in revision) -- Novel

Tag for Snips and such

Urban Fantasy // Cyberpunk // LGBTQ+

The magic in Morne is acting up, leaking in from the wylds beyond the barrier and tainting all it touches. Som’s eyes, the twin suns that heat and light the mishappen ball of a planet, remain open far too long and never fully close. Night is lost, replaced by a meager in-between the inhabitants have come to call ‘halfnight’ and the shadow-walking, blood-sucking fangs that once ruled Morne’s only city have been driven into hiding. They’re left to wheel and deal through netlinks and vidscreens, safe from the glare of the suns, for all but the dimmest hours of the wretched twilight Som offers. All but one, whose half-cursed blood keeps him safe in the bright. But despite his usefulness, he’s used as little more than a delivery boy. A delivery boy who’s noticed a change in the blood he’s ferrying, a change no other fang has noticed, one that will lead him on a journey he’d rather run from.

Before Deluca (stand-alone) -- Novel

The bloodiest chapter so far has been shared in its entirety

Full Chapters on Cohost

Horror Romance // Historical fantasy // LGBTQ+

An autobiographical tell-all told from the present-day perspective of a roughly middle-aged vampire looking back on the 18th-20th centuries in which he was created and the life he led with the man that made him.

Shorts

Random horror shorts I’m working on.

Erotica -> in print now

Self-explanatory, one would hope -- enter at your own peril.

Come, My Pretty is a filthy little tale of a bored witch and a promiscuous princess she accidentally summoned into her dungeon. A princess who takes a decidedly unorthodox approach to "subduing" the monsters that inhabit said dungeon...

Snippet Tag

Should you just wanna read the snips and don't care which they're from.

** Extras **

Cover Art

All my covers go here. Made by me, so if they’re terrible there’s no one to blame but myself.

Voiceover Tests

Audio tests of me reading my snips aloud as I try to learn to make audiobooks. Some of the older ones have a horrible whining sound in them because Audacity hates me, but the newer ones do not.

[thistransient]

- I managed to log out of tumblr for a grand 24 hours or so. I wish I could say it made me more productive, but I tend to just look at reddit instead. To my credit I did do some reading before bed in place of scrolling, and actually attempted to work on my CV today... before the program crashed and everything was lost 🙄

- I finally bought a new phone, after my old one had gotten to a truly unendurable level of dysfunction (I told myself I simply could not go to job interviews with such a device, which for the past few months has been held together with tape and good fortune, taking at least five attempts to coax the screen on, refusing to run even two apps at once, and freezing at a rate the polar ice caps would envy...) The only benefit of waiting so long is that the regardless of what model I acquire, I'm always blown away by the most basic functionality, much less whatever technological advances have manifested in the past couple years (I am pleased this thing takes tolerable photos in low(er) light though).

- Today I met up with a new language exchange buddy I met while volunteering for the LGBT nonprofit. She picked a cafe I'd coincidentally been recommended by someone else because they used to host linocut classes (indeed the walls were full of interesting art). The reviews, though, suggested the baristas had an attitude, and thus I was a little apprehensive when the door was affixed with multiple signs proclaiming "Full, do not come in" in Chinese (my acquaintance had already staked out a table inside). I sustained some dubious looks upon entry before hastily explaining I was here to meet someone. I am quite sure the exorbitant price for a tiny sandwich was more of a fee for enjoying the atmosphere (and being graced with the presence of the intimidatingly aloof, attractive staff) than a reflection of the ingredients...

- Of course the one day I didn't bring an umbrella it started pouring as I was on the train, and while in theory I knew there was some sort of underground bookstore near Zhongshan Station, I'd never actually been in there, nor known how far the complex extended- it's huge! I was able to pop out of an exit quite near the café and make a swift dash for it. Later on I decided to go for a walk before getting on at a farther stop, and was treated to the sight of a middle aged man dressed all in black with a long ponytail and the wispiest of pompadours still arising proudly from his scalp mount a ludicrously large cruiser and rev it, the very picture of washed up motorcycle gangster...

- In totally unrelated news, the avocado pit I have been trying to sprout has put forth a root 🎉

- I may try to log out of tumblr more often, but never fear, the queue will go on for months even if I meet an untimely end crossing the road or something (as one does in Taiwan).

[literallybyronic]

hi! your post abt polari in the sandman popped up on my dash, and while i haven't watched the sandman at all, i do have an interest in polari. do you have any resources you'd recommend for someone wanting to learn about the history? books, documentaries, whatever. a lot of the stuff i've found is the same surface-level information, but i'd love to dive a bit deeper, especially its usage diachronically. thought i'd ask since u seem knowledgeable. thanks!

Hope you don't mind, but I've put some Sandman-specific commentary at the bottom as I've had several people in the tags of that post asking stuff as well so it's easier to just make one response to the whole thing and link to it. I'm also not by any means an expert, I learned of Polari initially from 70s-80s UK tv comedies and then learned a bit about it studying linguistics in general. Unfortunately there's not as much material out there as one would hope, being that while in use it was mainly a sort of under-the-table thing used so someone who heard a snippet of your conversation couldn't immediately clock you or what you were saying, and when being gay became legal/less stigmatized it fell out of fashion because it wasn't necessary. But if you want truly thorough academic sources, particularly that analyze its roots, Paul Baker is the man you want. Polari: The Lost Language of Gay Men and Fabulosa! The Story of Polari, Britain's Secret Gay Language are about the history of it, and Fantabulosa: A Dictionary of Polari and Gay Slang has a lexicon of Polari and other LGBT-specific terminology (mostly 20th cent. IIRC) Now, if you want to get hold of these works you'd likely have to find them in a library or purchase them. If you know of a site that offers discount or free uni textbooks, you may find it there as well- I know I have seen these sorts of sites floating around tumblr but I don't remember them off the top of my head. If you want something completely free and easy to grab, I found this paper (UofM dissertation) which seems like it has a decent, fairly detailed overview of the language as well as details of some of the initial linguistic sources of various bits & pieces of it- it has many different bits from different sources like thieves' cant, carnivallers' cant, yiddish, romani, italian, latin, sailing slang, cockney rhyming slang, it's a bit of a mixed bag. If you want to hear full Polari in conversation, Putting On The Dish is a short film almost entirely in Polari. Note that full Polari is near-unintelligible unless you know it- this video is a presentation on Polari that breaks down Putting On The Dish line by line into modern layspeak so you can get an idea of what's actually being said in the film.

Now, while full Polari went very quickly out of fashion after the decriminalization of male homosexuality in England in the 60s because it was no longer necessary to avoid arrest, certain specific terms and bits of slang were carried through into mainstream gay and drag culture in the latter half of the 20th century and the populace at large were made aware of them via pop culture- duck/ducky among them. Which is why throwing it haphazardly into Hob's speech is an issue if you don't know the etymology- if you're not a granny talking about her grandchildren in an old fashioned way, but a young (appearing) man talking to another man in casual conversation, it's extremely camp. It would be something like having him go around calling people "hunty" today, minus the AAVE connotations. Could he get away with it today, in the 2020s? Sure, although it might come off a bit strange for a younger guy to be throwing out nigh Dame Edna levels of old-fashioned queenieness. But during the 80s, during the renewed backlash against homosexuality that occurred during Margaret Thatcher's term and the passing of Section 28 and the AIDS crisis? Not so long after decriminalization, but long enough that the entirety of Polari slang wasn't a secret anymore, long enough that everyone knew what it meant when you used that sort of language, even if they couldn't parse just what you were saying? The decade in which you can find "ducky" used as a homophobic slur on BBC One in one of the most popular britcoms ever made? Not so much. Sure, it wasn't arrest worthy anymore. If you were out in pop culture/performing arts circles, or even among college students, likely no one would bat an eye. But if you wanted to keep your respectable establishment job teaching children of conservative parents and not have whatever the 80s UK equivalent of One Million Moms was breathing down your neck trying to get you fired "for the children", it wasn't something you would do unless you were very sure you were safe being out in that particular company and that it wasn't going to get back to your employers. So, while I'm not saying DON'T use it, I'm saying, be aware of its context in the 20th century in general, and in that time period (1970s-1990s) specifically, its potential to be used as a stereotype and/or slur, and when and how it would be no big deal to use it and when it would be potentially dangerous.

[lastweeksshirttonight]

What is this?? Lee actually following up on promises of posting longform writing??? I know, I'm scared too.

Last Lee Tonight (wherein Lee quotes noted political commentator Olivia Rodrigo) Season One, Episode Nine

(Original air date: 6/29/2014) Topics covered: Burwell v. Hobby Lobby, LGBT rights and discrimination in Uganda

Trigger warning: discussions of homophobia

"That is why I, personally, refuse to pay for Mennonite cabinets. Because Jason Bourne could, conceivably, beat someone to death with one of those things."

Because the last time I posted one of these reviews was (checks notes) August 2023, a brief recap of where we are in terms of the season developing is in order. Episode Eight was the first time the entire main story was put on LWT's YouTube page, after a very... scattershot approach to uploading segments onto social media. The show is also coming into its own - although the recap of the week segments are bouncing between being extremely surface-level, sometimes only one joke long, and closer to the current iteration of a small yet rigorous dive into a relevant topic for a few minutes before the main topic, the main stories are beginning to take longer form, even though they are still tied to the idea of the show being immediately relevant.

This episode is one of the few I think is, with a few exceptions, almost completely available on the LWT YouTube page worldwide. Both major segments are uploaded, as well as an extended interview segment. Looking forward, they do experiment with the idea of breaking up most of the episodes and loading them onto YouTube for the rest of season one. At least they're actually, um, loading the main parts of the episodes on YouTube from here on out. As I've said many times before, no one had any idea what kind of show LWT was supposed to be or what it would become.

Another fun fact - apparently you can no longer screenshot these episodes I bought on YouTube on my desktop with PrtSc. What the fuck. Is up. With that?! (aaaah~) Fuck you business daddy you complete sack of daddy-shaped shit. (Clearly I have my ways of getting around this, even if the screenshots seem a bit blurry to me, but... fucking hell, I'm just trying to take a screenshot OF SOMETHING I PAID FOR.)

ANYWAYS. There's an episode of LWT we're ostensibly discussing!

Our first topic is the 2014 World Cup. England has been knocked out, so the tournament is dead to John. Oh John. So innocent. So full of life. You have no clue about the shitstorm you're gonna drop on FIFA's doorstep next season.

At the World Cup, an Uruguayan player, Luis Suarez, bit an Italian player, something I totally forgot about. He also bit TWO OTHER PEOPLE. John calls the Italian player "a delicious piece of prime Italian steak" - I forgot that chaotic bisexuality has been baked into this show from day one but I love it.

(Based on the only hate comment I've ever received, I know someone will probably deign to tell me that John is not bisexual, which... I know. But the writing of this show has chaotic bisexual energy - in some seasons, like the one where John begs Adam Driver to chokeslam him into a table regularly, energy honestly isn't a strong enough word to describe whatever's going on - and I like acknowledging that element of the show.)

John mentions the week has been awash with depressing terrorism news but leads into a segment about Boko Haram being driven out of their hiding places by snakes and bees, an incredible victory for the scariest parts of nature. John is furious that scorpions have instead decided to hide in bananas in supermarkets instead of fighting terrorism. John's grin after delivering that joke is effervescent. He loves this kind of stupid, "now THAT'S a sentence"-style joke.

He's so happy y'all

We take a hard left turn into discussing Syria, and that the US is looking to send money to "appropriately vetted" rebel soldiers. The obvious question is asked - how do you vet rebel soldiers? John suggests a trade-school-style commercial to recruit potential rebel soldiers. (The offer is open to bees and snakes!) One thing I like about the early episodes that does still come through from time to time on the show are these sorts of Daily Show-style fake commercials and PSAs. They can get repetitive after seeing the segments they're covering, but there's usually some fun twists and chances for some real absurdities and escalations you can't do in the show proper.

Our first real segment follows after this, on Burwell v Hobby Lobby. You may remember this as the court case that allowed for Hobby Lobby, a crappy JoAnn's knockoff run by evangelical Christians who also stole artifacts for a bible museum, to not pay for an employee's birth control through the Affordable Care Act because it went against their religion. As a corporation. Because corporations are people now. God this country sucks.

At the time of airing, this decision hadn't been made yet by the Supreme Court, so John is going over the details of the case, including the questions at the center of it - do corporations have freedom of religion, and are corporations people? John confidently says "no" before realizing he has to actually discuss this, and I really want to live in 2014 John World. This whole segment has a lovely capper extending two ideas to their logical, absurd extremes - government cannot be an a la carte system, something John demonstrates by showing a wild variety of things people don't want to spend their taxes on which starts fairly even-keel but spirals into Fox News talking heads saying that their tax dollars are being spent on Mexican prostitutes. And on the flip-side, if corporations are people, well, people die. Amongst other things.

Something that's been a bit lost about this case in the ten years since is that a Mennonite sect that owned a kitchen cabinet making company also sued the government over providing birth control. I totally forgot about that.

Our "And Now This" segment is on politicians misusing the word 'literally'. Chris Traeger literally adored this segment. (It's short and is exactly what you'd expect. Not much to say here.)

The next segment is on LGBTQIA+ rights in Uganda. Interestingly, John introduces this segment by saying "finally tonight..." despite being only 12 minutes into a 30 minute show. Definitely had me checking the clock in confusion.

I appreciate that John opens this segment not sugarcoating anything happening to LGBTQIA+ individuals in Uganda, even before he gets into the details of the anti-gay laws there. While there's been segments prior that have been obviously extremely serious, this is the first one that feels like John is coming from a place of seriousness first, jokes second. There are plenty of jokes, yes, lots of very funny ones. But when you compare how this segment opens, with no frills or equivocating, to even the Hobby Lobby segment earlier this episode, there's a pretty obvious difference.

People really didn't know how to react to the line "the moral arc of the universe is long, and it bends away from Uganda." There's like one scattered laugh at that. I'm pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be a joke.

A lot of the details of this segment are deeply upsetting, especially post-Trump in a world where it feels like freedoms are rolling back everywhere and extremist hatemongers like Scott Lively are being treated more and more seriously. The fact that he was laughed at here in the past is refreshing, but knowing that he'd likely be a top senate candidate now is so distressing. There's a lot of things that can be seen in this show in hindsight, most of them so far more benign than this. Unfortunately, the exportation of homophobia now looks less like the death throes of a dying political position, as John posits here from 2014, and more like a big factor in sowing the seeds for this last decade's right-wing global surge.

That being said, Pepe Julian Onziema is a true portrait of grace under fire. The interview with Onziema in the show is extremely illuminating, the kind of interview that makes me wish John did more interviews. Onziema is a delight - I love his seriousness in speaking to the realities of living as an LGBT+ person in Uganda, and his bravery in fighting this fight despite the looming threat of severe prison time. Relatedly, "Sorry doesn't cut it" is such a great comeback to John apologizing for being part of two groups of people that brought this wave of homophobia to Uganda.

There is an extended interview with Onziema on YouTube that dives further into some of the specifics of certain social elements, like context into how Ugandan discourse took on elements of American homophobic talking points (like "gay people are recruiting children") and a timeline of Scott Lively's touring of Uganda. John manages to completely break him by singing part of an early hateful song about "the rainbow belonging to God" as well, which made me so happy. Turn those hateful things into ludicrously stupid ones to destroy them.

I do highly recommend watching this interview - it's one of the best things that LWT has ever done, still. This has stayed with me for 10 years.

Other notes:

Hey. Hey Lee. You gonna talk about the fit?: Yes of course I am, the meds didn't change my brain THAT much. We have a light blue shirt with a dark blue tie with lighter piping, and a gray suitjacket. This is a subdued look but I like the neutral slate color combination going on here. 8/10

I haven't mentioned the unique title cards for each episode of LWT yet, mainly because this is the first one I found really funny - it's a picture of Renaldo with the caption "Kickus Ballium". (New name for football ahoy!)

Please enjoy this incredible "I'm so smooth" looking freeze frame that I took while pausing the episode to write. So smooth.

"I've got to be honest, being British is sometimes a little like being an alcoholic. When someone says you did something awful, you find yourself going, 'Honestly, I don't even remember doing that, but yeah, probably, probably. I'm a dick, I'm a dick.'" He slipped so easily into that Ian Duncan mode for this line, I so hope he comes back for the Community movie.

[homomenhommes]

STORY: Ups And Downs 21

Roast Pheasant and Ground Beef

After a full day of orgies in the fitness center and our hotel rooms, you might think Rafael and I     would be exhausted, but we were actually pumped up about the reception and dinner that evening. Mr. Block and Woody were scheduled to attend an international conference on LGBT rights at the United Nations on Monday, and they took the opportunity to invite a few men who would also be attending. This was not a business dinner, though. These were friends that Mr. Block and Woody had gotten to know over the years.

The cocktail reception was scheduled to begin at 5:30 p.m. with dinner at 6:30, but I decided to go to Mr. Block’s suite an hour early just to make sure that everything was in order. When I got there, the bartender was already setting up the open bar, two waiters were busy setting the dinner table and placing name plates at the assigned seats. And, of course, Conrad was expertly overseeing all the preparations, making sure that every piece of silverware was placed exactly where it should be. The three young staff members wore tight black pants, tapered white shirts, and rainbow bowties—what I call “party formal” but also damn sexy. Conrad, of course, looked absolutely dashing in his Edwardian butler uniform.

Dressed in our new Brooks Brothers suits, Rafael and I looked very professional and handsome—if I do say so myself—as we took pictures of everything so that we would be prepared for our meeting with the hotel manager next week. We also made note of the seating arrangements. As usual, Mr. Block would be seated in the middle of the table with Woody directly across from him. Rafael and I would sit at opposite ends of the table.

I introduced myself to the staff just so they would know who was in charge. They were all very friendly, and I would have jumped any or all of them on the spot under other circumstances.

The first guest to arrive was the CEO of one of the country’s largest and most active gay rights organizations. I was sworn not to reveal any of their names, so I’ll just refer to this man as Mr. Right. He was followed by General Peace, a member of the U.S. Joint Chiefs of Staff, who looked very commanding in his uniform with all its ribbons and metals. I would have let him jump me under other circumstances.

Mr. Yen, as I will dub him, the CEO of one of Japan’s most successful international corporations arrived with Señor Papi, Spain’s ambassador to the UN.

I expected Rocky, the rock superstar known for pushing boundaries in both his music and his public behavior, to arrive with a flourish, but he was upstaged by the pansexual Bollywood film star known only as Arup—meaning formless or shapeless in Bengali. While Rocky was dressed in a conservative leather jacket and business slacks, Arup wore the traditional Indian sherwani, a kind of knee-length shirt-jacket, but that is where the traditional style ended. His white sherwani, atypically unbuttoned down to his sternum to show off his very hairy chest, was adorned with swirls of brocade in pink, blue, and yellow, the colors of the pansexual pride flag. Instead of traditional pants, he wore opaque white tights that showed off the muscles of his dancer legs. A flaming red silk stole draped over one shoulder fluttered in the air whenever he waltzed across the room, which seemed to be the only way he could transport himself. It was all self-aggrandizing, and he played it to the hilt.

Watching Woody and Mr. Block mingle with these mammoth egos was an education in itself. Regardless of the stations they had reached in their respective careers, they all deferred to Mr. Block. Of course, he didn’t flaunt his authority or his charisma; he didn’t have to; it was just there, and they all knew it.

Most of the chatter over cocktails was just that, catching up on what everyone had been doing since the last time they had met, new projects they had launched or were working on, and, of course, who was sleeping with whose husband or boyfriend, who had been caught with his pants down—literally—and who was a good lay and who wasn’t.

Señor Papi, being from Barcelona, was delighted to learn that Rafael spoke not only Spanish but also Catalan. “You will love Sitges,” he told Rafael. “It is a beautiful village, and there is always lots of excitement,” he winked and nudged Rafael with his elbow on that last word, assuming that Rafael would know what kind of excitement he was talking about, and, of course, Rafael understood completely.

“I understand that Barcelona is a very beautiful city as well,” said Rafael, trying to keep the conversation sociable and respectable.

“Indeed,” said the Ambassador. “You must come visit me at my villa, and I will give you the royal tour.” His words seemed normal enough, but his intonation and gestures added a whole other layer of meaning—the emphasis being on ‘lay-er.’

Rocky had a reputation in the media for preferring younger men, and since I was the youngest man there, I suppose it was inevitable that he would zero in on me. As it turned out, though, he was nothing like the media made him out to be. He was affable and outgoing, but not obnoxiously so, and when it came to big heads, his was probably the most sedate of all the guests. He was cordial, even respectful, toward the hotel staff, thanking them for the most minor courtesies. Frankly, I don’t think he gravitated toward me because I was young; I think he was just seeking to avoid the maelstrom of egos in the presidential suite.

As we were chatting, I noticed that the Spanish ambassador strayed for a few minutes into the dining room and then returned a couple of minutes later to whisper something to Conrad, who nodded and then strolled into the dining room himself. When Conrad returned to announce that dinner would be served, I lagged behind, making sure that everyone was accounted for, and when I went to take my seat, I noticed that Rafael was in my chair. Conrad quickly, but smoothly, ushered me to the seat that was originally reserved for Rafael.

So now I am sitting directly across from Rocky, and Rafael is sitting directly across from the Spanish Ambassador. All of a sudden it hit me: Señor Papi’s presence at the dinner was not coincidental. Mr. Block had engineered it for Rafael’s benefit. For me, getting to sit across from Rocky was just a serendipitous consequence of Rafael’s good fortune.

Dinner would have made Kim proud: roast pheasant with a rice pilaf containing wild mushrooms, water chestnuts, and diced carrots, an acorn squash casserole with a parsley garnish, and French-style green beans. Beside each plate was a three-section tray with a choice of three sauces: spiced apples, cranberry sauce, and mint jelly. All of this was served with a hearty California burgundy. When everyone complimented Mr. Block on the feast, he deferred the praise to me, and I, in turn, credited Conrad and the hotel’s chef, which brought a subtle hint of approval from Woody.

Conversation over dinner consisted mostly of a continuation of what had been discussed over cocktails, but I noticed that Mr. Block very diplomatically and very smoothly coaxed the VIP guests into sharing ideas about how everyone could advance gay rights and particularly the protection of gay children and teens. All of the men present were either very wealthy and powerful or had influence with people who were, and Mr. Block wanted to make sure they left that evening with ideas and a bit of prodding to advance the causes dear to him. Arthur Block’s talent was having his guests leave the gathering with renewed motivation and the conviction that the ideas exchanged had all originated with them.

After dinner, the party continued with brandy back in the living room. All in all, it was a very pleasant and productive evening. As the guests departed, Rafael escorted Ambassador Papi to the elevator. I hung back, of course, to tie up loose ends and to thank and tip the staff, who could now let their hair down and gush over the presence of a rock star. Rocky handled the attention with aplomb, joking around with the guys and signing autographs graciously and cheerfully.

As I walked to my room down the hall, I passed General Peace who was walking back to the presidential suite. “Forgot something,” he said as he passed me. Yeah, forgot to get laid. Is it Mr. Block, Woody, or both?

I had assumed that Rocky, who had followed me out of the suite, had taken the elevator down to the lobby, but when I got to my room and turned to close the door behind me, Rocky stood in the doorway. After a moment of stunned silence Rocky finally broke the spell. “Well, are you going to invite me in, or are we just going to screw here in the hallway?”

The small talk didn’t last very long, but the foreplay did. Rocky was a true gentleman. He kissed me slowly, sweetly, and lovingly, and he undressed me in the same manner, purring over various parts of my body as he exposed and savored them to his delight. Once he had me completely naked, instead of undressing himself, he rose from the bed and stood facing me, just staring. “Something wrong?” I asked.

“Everything is just perfect,” he sighed.

“Well, don’t you want to make love to me?”

“Of course, I do—all night long,” he said. “But right now I just want to drink in your magnificence.”

I know it might sound corny, like a line he had used to seduce men a thousand times, but he was truly sincere. He was genuinely worshipping every inch of my body with his eyes.

I lacked his patience, though, and he had the advantage in that I was completely naked and he was fully clothed…but not for long. I grabbed him by his leather jacket and pulled him back down onto the bed, where I unceremoniously ripped off his clothes and threw myself on top of him, kissing him passionately as our stiff cocks rubbed against each other, aching for relief. I licked his body from head to toe and back up to his crotch, where I devoured his beautiful cock.

When I offered my ass to him, he said no. “I want you to make love to me,” he said. “I want you inside of me.” That sentiment caught me by surprise. Based on his reputation as a wanton Lothario, I expected him to be a confirmed top, but if he wanted my dick, I was more than happy to oblige.

I approached him as he had with me—slowly, gently, tenderly licking his rosebud, gingerly inserting one finger and then two, rubbing them in and out cautiously while at the same time sucking his cock and playing with his nipples.

“Oh, Joe. You are so fucking hot. I need you.”

I didn’t require any more persuasion. I lubed his hole and my pole with saliva drooling from my mouth. Though I entered him delicately, he gasped when my instrument breached his spinchter ring. Even though I knew he was in pain, I had to smile because I also knew the ecstasy he would soon enjoy. Once his rectal muscles had adjusted and relaxed, I proceeded to fill his canal with my meat, edging forward and back and forward again until I reached his prostate. Another gasp. Another smile.

I moved in a slow, steady rhythm, massaging his tunnel with my manhood until he practically screamed, “Oh shit, Joe! Fuck this. Shove it in! Fuck me hard, Joe. Pound the goddam shit out of me.”

Who was I to disobey a rock star? I slammed him hard and fast, like a jackhammer demolishing a concrete wall. He yelled and writhed so uncontrollably that I had to hold him down as I destroyed his ass. ­­­But then I took a sharp turn. I slowed down almost to a crawl. I pulled my dick all the way out and slowly, very slowly pushed it back in. After the third time, Rocky barked, “What the fuck are you doing, you idiot? Fuck me!”

“I’m sorry. Did you say something?” I teased.

“I said, ‘fuck me,’ asshole.”

“Oh,” I said as I thrust once as hard and deeply as I could. And then I punctuated each word with another powerful thrust. “You. Mean. You. Want. Me. To. Fuck. You. Like. This?” It was sweet torture, and I was loving it.

“Ah. Shit! You just wait…you goddam muthafucka. Ah! Gawd! You wait ‘til…ah…it’s my turn. Ah. Oh, fuck!”

“If you don’t like my dick,” I mocked, “I can stop.” And I did. With my dick pressed deep into his hole, I froze—just waiting for him to beg me for more, which, of course, he did.

“No, no. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Fuck me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you say ‘please.’”

“Please. Please don’t stop.”

“Please what?” I cajoled.

“Please, sir. Please fuck me.”

“That’s. Better,” I said, again punctuating my sentences with single deep, forceful thrusts, slowly picking up speed until I was once again ripping him like a dynamo.”

“Oh, fuck!” he shouted. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” And though neither of us had touched his stiff rod, he exploded all over himself, his dick firing like an automatic assault weapon. As I released his wrists from my grip, he flailed and pounded the bed with his fists as he experienced the most violent orgasm I had ever witnessed.

As he was blasting away, I slowed my pace but didn’t stop, and just when it seemed that he had finally caught his breath, I attacked again, drilling his hole fast and furiously until I also burst wide open, flooding his guts with my voluminous man seed before I collapsed on top of him.

After about five minutes of gradually coming down from our highs, Rocky finally spoke, “Well, I was right.”

“About what?” I asked.

“You really are magnificent.”

I had to laugh, but then he added, “but you just wait ‘til it’s my turn. I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna cry tears for me to let up, but I won’t. I’ll double down and then triple down until there’s nothing left of your sorry ass. When I get through with you, it’ll be nothing but ground beef.”

To be continued

la famille Tapin en expo

+

[bengiyo]

GAP the Series Ep 4 Stray Thoughts

Last week we got to experience the tension between Mon and Sam, and it was everything I hoped for from a GL. We'll need to follow the traitor plot and Kirk's involvement, but I am mostly here for Becky and Freen, and everyone's outfits.

Starting off with the Dutch angles, I see.

Interesting, they both said goodnight in English.

Sam is not ready for this hangout to be over, and I'm here for it. she's so pathetic though. Just tell her you want her to stay.

I wonder what the story behind the name Martha in this group and why Tee doesn't want to use it.

I love these friends failing to get Sam to leave the table so they can talk to Mon.

"Operation Natasha Romanov activated now." I'm dying.

I loved everything about this interrogation. Sam's friends definitely care about her.

I was not expecting young versions of Tee, Jim, and Kade!!

Nevermind. They were bullies.

Okay, they're better now and teaching Mon how to read Sam. This is now adorable again.

Mon said she'd hit on Sam, and something LGBT happened to her.

Mon is wearing so much pink holy shit. Glad to see she's feeling herself.

Bestie pointed out that Auntie Meane is treated as a full member of the staff and isn't condescended to.

This black and pink juxtaposition looks so good. Sam and Mom look amazing.

I'm here for the friends of Sam group chat.

Sam needs to stop calling Mon poor, lol.

Okay, I'm in love with the choice to put Sam in the room with Mon for this text chat.

Mon's outfit for the date is cute.

I've decided I really like Heng for this role.

Yesssss bring Yuki to the party.

Love these plotting ass friends.

These pants were not sparkling before, but I'm okay with it.

[j-graysonlibrary]

Fort Heaven Chapter 30

Title: Fort Heaven

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 69K

Genres: Suspense, investigative, drama, LGBT+

Available on: Kobo and my website

Synopsis: Some call it a hoax. Others claim it’s a cult. But, to Evon and his friend Yasmine, two online journalists, Fort Heaven is the subject of their latest story. Along for the assignment is cameraman and not-so-secret crush of Evon’s: Russet. With a drunken, murky night in their recent history, things are especially tense between them but, of course, personal matters take a backseat when the interviews start. The trio speaks to ex-members of Fort Heaven and, while some of the accounts are shocking, the job remains just that: A job. That is until one of the women they interviewed, along with her daughter, goes missing. It soon becomes clear that not only is Fort Heaven a real threat but Evon and his friends are being watched. And what started as a simple cash-grab article is now a matter of life and death.

Full chapter 30 under the cut

Chapter 30

There seemed to be no end to the cruelty and resourcefulness of Fort Heaven and Willow had begun to wonder if Simon had known all along about her connections. If the entire thing had been a roués. Each moment—each word—could have been a lie from the start.

And, somehow, that theory wasn’t as horrific as the reality that was presented to her. The genuine interest in torturing a young woman just because she disagreed with the holy Simon--the idea that she would want to help with that torture…it was too much.

Yet, Willow couldn’t break down and cry like she wanted to. Even if her insides were on fire, she still had to act as though nothing was wrong. If she showed discomfort it would have to be minimal and she knew if she let even a drop of her real emotion escape then the floodgates would open.

That was how she ended up standing, motionless and silent, in front of a table with long nails driven into it from the underside. They weren’t even and the table looked like it had definitely been used before judging by the discoloration.  Nichole was laid on her back, her body being pricked and punctured all over while her weight gradually inflicted more damage. To make matters worse, every time she refused to speak or answered one of Simon’s questions “wrong”, a small cement block was placed on top of her.

Nichole had a block on her forehead and two across her stomach when Simon placed a fourth on her right knee.

“If you’re thinking you can live even if you  make it all the way down to the table then you are sorely mistaken,” Simon chided, “No one has survived more than eighteen weights. Even if the puncture wounds don’t get them then they will, eventually, bleed out.”

She said nothing and just closed her eyes when he pressed down on her leg. When he didn’t let up, she winced and made a sound of discomfort.

“I didn’t even know about your stupid cult until the other month,” Nichole said through a tight jaw.

“But your mother passed onto you her filth. You now hold the sins of your own intolerance along with her heresy and treachery.”

“If you hated her so much, why go and hunt her down?”

Willow looked between the two who were locked eye to eye. She could slip away if she wanted—it could even take a moment for Simon to notice her absence. It would be a betrayal to her best friend but, in her own mind, she’d already hugely let her down.

She could at least use the opportunity to do something important. Even if it was a long shot.

“All sinners must be punished,” Simon responded to Nichole, kneeling even closer to her face. He wasn’t blinking and neither was she.

“And what do you call what you’re doing?” Her voice was sharp despite her circumstances. She still refused to lose to him—even at such a major disadvantage.

For a second, Willow second guessed herself but, as their staring match continued, she started to take steps backwards.

The moment she knew she was out of Simon’s peripherals, she ran out of the door. The cold hit her with a gust of wind but she didn’t slow—not until she saw Seth.

His brow rose in surprise so she could assume that he knew his father had plans with her. Once the initial confusion passed, he seemed happy.

“Did my father let you go early?”

Willow shook her head, deciding—on the fly—that she needed to be honest. Sort of. “Can I talk to you in private? Very quickly?”

Seth dropped his defenses and frowned. His eyes were glued to her and his stare was intensely concerned and genuine. “Sure.”

They ducked into the nearest building which was on the side of the compound. No one was in the hall so Willow knew they were safe.

“Your father is trying to get me to help him torture people…and I…” She held his eyes and whispered, “I can’t.”

Thankfully, Seth showed zero disappointment. He reached out to hold onto her shoulders and squeezed. “I’m sorry…He just wants you to be capable of defending yourself…defending us and our cause. He’s got his priorities mixed up though.”

Willow closed her eyes for a second as she ran several half-baked plans through her head. She settled on one. “Do you think you can convince him to rethink this? I can’t be in a place like this anymore…I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize,” Seth said in a muted tone, “You’re a loving, bright person…I never liked this plan of his. And…I’ll see what I can do for you, Willow.”

“Thank you,” she responded before leaning up on the tips of her toes and giving him a kiss.

It was the last thing he was expecting considering her lack of affection up to that point. He froze for a second before he kissed her back and she used the moment to move further into his arms.

One of her hands gripped onto Seth’s back as she opened her mouth to take his lower lip between hers. Her other hand moved slyly and searched for his cell phone. Once her finger felt the cold metal case, she slowly pulled it out of his pocket.

For a second, she almost lost her grip when Seth took her face into his hands to deepen their kiss. She went with it, now knowing for sure that he had no awareness of anything other than their kiss. His phone fit into her palm and she slid it up her jacket sleeve.

It was her objective but she didn’t pull away from Seth immediately. She did try to slow the kiss which eventually coaxed the man to do the same. With a gentle rub against his chest, she put some distance between them.

His eyes were clouded with an emotion she didn’t want to see from him. Still, she managed a smile and silently prayed that it appeared real.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Seth’s jaw hung open for a second. When he recollected himself, he replied to her in kind, “I…I love you too. I’ll go talk to my father right now. Don’t you worry…”

Willow kept her smile and nodded in appreciation. She held her hands together in front of her, keeping a good hold on the phone. Even as Seth left the building, she kept her hands there as still as she could even if her heart was ready to burst out of her chest.

When the adrenaline hit, it hit hard.

She rushed into a room by herself and took out the phone. It had a passcode but she knew that already (though she wasn’t one hundred percent sure she could correctly recall it). The one other time she’d had his phone in her hands, he had to reach over and press the numbers in quickly. She’d pretended not to look but she knew—at the moment—it would be vital somehow.

With trembling fingers, she pressed the right sequence and the screen lit up. She felt her eyes become hot and her vision started to blur but she did her best to reel all of that back in.

Willow had to hold the phone with both hands as she listened to the ringing on the other end.

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

“I’d like to report a concentration camp and a lot of unlawful imprisonments. I know the general area but not the exact address…but I’m on a mobile phone so could you track the location?” Her voice audibly shook and there wasn’t much she could do about that.

“If the location is on, that is correct.” There was a pause on the other end. “Can you tell me anymore about the imprisonment you know of?”

“It’s run by Fort Heaven—the cult—and they torture people here and there have been deaths. No one can leave to get help…I stole this phone to call you.”

“Okay, ma’am, please stay calm. We were able to retrieve your location and I am sending word to the police and the EMTs. Until they arrive, keep low and just try to stay safe.”

Willow gulped. “Thank you.”

The line went silent and a few tears fell down and hit the floor. It was impossible to describe how she felt—there was happiness that she knew help was coming but there was also a tremendous amount of anxiety considering all that could go wrong in the meantime.

If she wanted to do everything she could, she’d have to make sure everyone was ready to go the second the police arrived. Knowing what she did of Fort Heaven, she knew they were bound to take extreme measures once they realized what was happening.

Especially Simon.

If he figured out she had anything to do with it, her life would be forfeit.

Willow stuffed Seth’s phone safely into her jacket before making her way to the core of the main building. The guards who were off duty were most likely sleeping so she snuck through the dorm area to get to the main elevator.

She rushed to the room where she had led Russet into just the other day. Outside was a guard with a morose expression.

“Um…Excuse me?” Willow spoke up but kept a decent distance from the man.

He snapped out of a fugue and shook his head. “Yes?”

“Simon the Usurper of Evil asked me to interrogate the heretic in place of the assigned guard. Sorry, I forgot his name but he’s helping his holiness with something rather important.”

Willow watched his face intently and started to feel the relief flood in when it became apparent that the man didn’t care too much as to what or why. He simply stepped to the side.

“Head on in.”

With the guard’s help in unlocking the door, she walked in.

Similar to the last time she was inside, the room was dimly lit and eerily silent with a faint, bitter scent hanging in the air. In the back, alone, and shackled to the wall was Russet.

His hair was down, covering much of his face, and his skin and rags were stained with blood. For a second Willow had an intense fear of him being dead but she saw him move and take a breath.

“…Willow…?” Russet’s voice came out strained and hoarse. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” she whispered back and hurried to his side.

The bloodstains made much more sense as she got closer though she wished she didn’t have to see it. His right hand was wrapped up and it was clear that his fingers had been cut off at the middle knuckle. His thumb was clean off and there was no telling when his hand had last been redressed.

Cuts were visible in several places on his body but nothing looked serious—same with the bruising. Willow’s only big concern besides his hand, was the possibility of internal bleeding but she figured if that had been the case then he’d definitely be dead already.

“I’m getting you out of here,” she said as she used one of her few important keys to free him.

“Is everyone safe?” Russet asked. His arms fell limply at his sides and Willow could tell he had lost a lot of strength.

“Everyone will be soon.”

“Are you sure?” He pressed the issue.

“Don’t worry about it. I won’t let any of you get hurt again,” she responded and led him to the door.

He heavily leaned on her but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Russet was taller than her but he was fairly thin which was heavily exacerbated by recent circumstances. She opened the door and, immediately, the guard became curious.

“What’s going on?” He asked—more with confusion than suspicion.

Willow looked over to him. “He confessed some interesting things. I’m taking him straight to Simon. He’ll want to hear this.”

“Why not lead him here instead of taking the prisoner to him?”

She shook her head. “The boss’ rules, not mine.”

The guard accepted the answer with surprising ease and shrugged. “Well alright. Need help with him?”

“No—he’s really weak. I’ve got it.”

With that, Willow walked to the elevator with no other run-ins. Her adrenaline was pumping but she took slow steps alongside Russet.

When they stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, the man glanced over at her. He even chuckled under his breath.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Russet mentioned with another chuckle. He could hardly stand and his eyes were heavy but he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Where there was no hope before, he suddenly felt a small surge of optimism.

[seroquelling]

pondering the bat shit / funny things i've done / experienced in my 28 years on this planet:

drove my car into a fence post at 3am in the middle of nowhere. lost my side mirror and spent the next 20 minutes on the side of the road in a wheat field looking for it. never found it.

drunkenly fell off of someone's balcony at a party and landed ass first into a trashcan below. it took three people turning the trashcan over to get me out because i'm short and thin so i had folded in half inside of it. managed to not spill my beer, somehow.

drove in the middle of a severe snowstorm on the highway to go to my friends house at 4am. tried to drive through a snow mound and got my car stuck. had to flag down strangers that were driving past. they let me sit in their truck while they pushed my car out of the snow. instead of turning back and going home, i drove the rest of the 30mins to my friends house.

had a psychotic break and tried to cut my arm off with a machete.

broke into my bosses warehouse after my shift @ 12am because he left his puppy in there overnight and wasn't feeding it.

was climbing up the stairs to my friends apartment at 1am in the middle of the winter. had a heavy ass backpack on full of booze i'd stolen from my job, and a 30pack of beer in my arms. slipped on the second to last step at the top and fell head over feet all the way back down. passed out cuz my head hit concrete at the bottom. friend found me five minutes later and had to drag me up the stairs. had a concussion. still enjoyed beers with them.

used to beg people to have 'friendly fist fights' with me at my old job. still have scarred knuckles because of it.

went to a very country bar in the deep south of my hometown. not a very safe place for lgbt ppl. slammed a pitcher of beer, and bought a rose and gave it to a pretty girl at the table next to me that was with some guy. ended up charming her enough that we slow danced together. almost got into a fight with the dude over it.

sold all of my shit and moved to a foreign country with no real plan in mind. twice.

convinced an entire bar to do the cupid shuffle with me

drove to taco bell in the middle of a snowstorm because i was craving it. ended up in a ditch on the way back. had to call a towing company a few days later to get my car out. got a concussion from that too bc my head hit the steering wheel

three days after trying to hack off my own arm with a machete, i went to a party full of people i'd only met once. convinced some guy that was there to let me pierce his nose. did. then hooked up with him. made out with two other people the same night.

almost died while swimming in the ocean because i got caught in the riptide. didn't yell for help because 'that's embarrassing'. in the end some dude on a surfboard saved me and got me back to shore.

took acid in the middle of the woods with a coworker i barely knew. went to work the next day still tripping bc someone called in.

snuck out of my house and drunkenly climbed up a mountain with friends, in flip flops. they broke on the way down and i had to be piggyback carried by one of the guys in our group all the way back to the bottom. when we got to the bottom, one of the guys realized he left his keys at the top - i had like barely an hour to get home before my mom woke up and realized i'd snuck out. made it back to my side of town with five minutes to spare. friend took a wrong turn and instead of letting him turn around, i jumped out of the (still moving) car and ran across peoples yards, vaulted over fences, barefoot, before diving back in thru my window. managed to get back into bed just before my mom came to check on me before work.

defended my coworker from people who were trying to steal / cause a scene with my switchblade.

threw a used tampon into my friends neighbors open kitchen window because they'd called her a slur. he came outside with a shotgun and we fled into the cornfield behind his house.

got dropped off after a party and tried to make my way back toward my window to sneak back in. passed out in the front yard face down in the grass.

got into a (verbal) fight with an old ex boyfriend in a parking lot because he'd cheated on me. he dropped a taco he'd had in his hand and as he was bending to pick it up i kicked it all the way across the parking lot. it exploded into a rain of shredded cheese and lettuce.

a coworker at an old job dropped his phone into a large dumpster out back. trying to win his affections, i jumped inside and waded thru trash juice and muck to look for it.

hooked up with someone at a funeral.

tried to contact the fae and bargain with them to take out a coworker i hated. he had a heart attack (lived.)

i realized halfway thru writing all of this why maybe no one sticks around for me in relationships.

[quietblueriver]

Very fucked up few days over at SCOTUS.

Quick, self-indulgent queer law nerd reflection on Justice Sotomayor's powerful dissent in 303 Creative (case in which SCOTUS said a web designer can exclude queer couples from her hypothetical wedding site business because 1st Am.) because the internet is the void I can come scream into about this.

She is not pulling punches at any point. This is what she says about the argument that Smith (web designer) isn't actually refusing to serve queer people: The majority protests that Smith will gladly sell her goods and services to anyone, including same-sex couples. She just will not sell websites for same-sex weddings. Apparently, a gay or lesbian couple might buy a wedding website for their straight friends. This logic would be amusing if it were not so embarrassing. I suppose the Heart of Atlanta Motel could have argued that Black people may still rent rooms for their white friends. Smith answers that she will sell other websites for gay or lesbian clients. But then she, like Ollie McClung, who would serve Black people take-out but not table service, discriminates against LGBT people by offering them a limited menu. This is plain to see, for all who do not look the other way. (Quick context without getting super into the weeds: in Heart of Atlanta and Katzenbach v. McClung, the Court found that business owners could be forced to abide by the Civil Rights Act. They did this by holding that Congress has the right to regulate interstate commerce under the Commerce Clause of the Constitution and discriminatory actions interfered with interstate commerce.)

She cites almost all of the major LGBT rights cases and Loving, the case that struck down anti-miscegenation laws. She also cites Kenji Yoshino in making the argument that asking queer people to hide who they are can actively put them in danger on top of the emotional and mental harm it causes: By issuing this new license to discriminate in a case brought by a company that seeks to deny same-sex couples the full and equal enjoyment of its services, the immediate, symbolic effect of the decision is to mark gays and lesbians for second-class status. In this way, the decision itself inflicts a kind of stigmatic harm, on top of any harm caused by denials of service. . . . It reminds LGBT people of a painful feeling that they know all too well: There are some public places where they can be themselves, and some where they cannot. K. Yoshino, Covering 61–66 (2006). Ask any LGBT person, and you will learn just how often they are forced to navigate life in this way. They must ask themselves: If I reveal my identity to this co-worker, or to this shopkeeper, will they treat me the same way? If I hold the hand of my partner in this setting, will someone stare at me, harass me, or even hurt me? It is an awful way to live.

She closes with a quote from the dissent in Korematsu, the case in which SCOTUS said Japanese internment was constitutional because it was about national security. It's an incredibly disgusting and embarrassing part of legal history. Interestingly, Justice Sotomayor also brought up Korematsu in Trump v. Hawaii, the travel ban case. There, she compared the majority's logic in upholding the ban to the logic in Korematsu, which Chief Justice Roberts, the author of the majority opinion upholding the ban, really did not like. Anyway, her use of the case again is a shot at the logic of the majority but it is mostly a very clear shot at what she thinks of their position morally and about how it will be viewed historically: I fear that the symbolic damage of the Court’s opinion is done. But that does not mean that we are powerless in the face of the decision. The meaning of our Constitution is found not in any law volume, but in the spirit of the people who live under it. Every business owner in America has a choice whether to live out the values in the Constitution. Make no mistake: Invidious discrimination is not one of them.“[D]iscrimination in any form and in any degree has no justifiable part whatever in our democratic way of life.” Korematsu v. United States, 323 U. S. 214, 242 (1944) (Murphy, J., dissenting). “It is unattractive in any setting but it is utterly revolting among a free people who have embraced the principles set forth in the Constitution of the United States.”

Basically, all of this is absolute shit but the progressive Justices are not being quiet about it and I'm very grateful for that.