#gay Wine Country

[gaytravelinfo]

Gay Wine Weekend 2024 - Sonoma, CA

Out In The Vinyard – Gay Wine Weekend 3 DAYS OF LGBTQ+ CELEBRATION IN SONOMA WINE COUNTRY JULY 19-21, 2024 3 DAYS OF LGBTQ+ CELEBRATION IN SONOMA WINE COUNTRY Gay Wine Weekend makes a move to the Russian River Valley & Healdsburg wine region of Sonoma County, with all-new venues, wineries, restaurants, and more! Join us for a weekend of wine and celebration, benefiting Face to Face, Sonoma…

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#gay friendly Sonoma #gay sonoma #gay tours #gay travel #gay travel blog #gay travel influencer #gay travel information #gay Wine Country #gay wine tours #Gay Wine Weekend #Gay Wine Weekend 2024 #Gay Wine Weekend Sonoma #Napa Valley gay wine tours #Out In The Vineyards #Out In The Vineyards Gay Wine Weekend #Sonoma Gay Wine Weekend

[starchaserdreams]

I'm so drunk and Sirius is so sexy and I have no deeper thoughts than that, he just is

#drunk on good local wine #i live in wine country so you know it's good #Sirius Black #marauders #marauders era #dead gay wizards

[mikereads]

“Hey you don’t want me to go? Fine, I won’t go.” - Jo

“You can’t back out now. Your name is already printed on your Nat cup.” -Blair

“Can’t you find somebody else?”- Jo

“You gave me your word, Jo.” - Blair

“All right, I’ll go but remember. It’s a favor. Not a date, a favor!”- Jo

#gay #Jo was so jealous of Alison #also out of context this seems like a date #it was gay enough in context/ a double date with Jo again Blair trying to make her jealous with Alison and it clearly working #anyway #Blair x Jo #jo x blair #the facts of life #3x03 #also very gay of you Jo to remind her this isn’t a date loll #but again out of context 👀🏳️‍🌈 #also we get it Jo you are gay but come on we all know this is a date with Blair #forget a faceless nameless man #it’s Blair’s country club #like Blair never did this with Sue Ann or anyone else #and Blair hasn’t gone on a date all season #but did get two bottles of wine for her and Jo while on her vacation #and did unconsciously have a matching costume with Jo at the party #just saying #wlw #blair warner #jo polniaczek #the way Blair doesn’t answer her after that but does nod her head- gay

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

We had one of Steff's comedian friends staying with us on the weekend, lovely lad called Sam from Singapore. He had never been to Wales before, and he requested that we take him to a Welsh restaurant so he could try Welsh food

That's surprisingly difficult, actually. Like a lot of Welsh culture, our culinary traditions have not exactly been applauded over the years, so you don't really see them. But a lucky Google search revealed a brand new one has just opened in SA1 called the Welsh House, so great! Away we went.

Fuck me, they went all in.

It wasn't just the menu (though fuck me, what a menu - one of their 'for the table to share' options was little mini leek and cheddar Welsh cakes with salted butter and they were paralysingly good). It wasn't just that every alcohol was Welsh, even including the wine (surprisingly good btw, called 'Naturiol'.)

The table centerpieces were daffodils. All signs for the toilets were Welsh only. The walls had photos of Wales, modern and historical; the windows had the fleur de lis; the specials board (pork belly in Welsh cider and damson sauce with honey and wild garlic glazed carrots) had dragons on. I realise this is probably normal for country-themed restaurants, but I've never been to one for Wales before.

But the best bit, see, was the music

I clocked, when we walked in, that they were playing If You Tolerate This Then Your Children Will Be Next by the Manic Street Preachers (you always clock the Manics). Ah, I thought. A Welsh song! In a Welsh restaurant! Ho ho ho.

As they seated us, it became What's New Pussycat. Ah! I thought. Another Welsh song! Fu fu fu.

Then they played Monster by the Automatic and I was like my god are they only playing Welsh music?? That's so cool! What an eclectic mix that's going to be. We should suggest to them they should look into Welsh language music too, really mix it up.

And then they played Anrheoli by Yws Gwynedd and lads, Steff and I lost our shit. We lost our fucking shit. Sam's sitting there, utterly bewildered. The staff are nervously edging away from us. We don't care. It's the first time I have ever heard a Welsh language song played outside of a Welsh language setting. We're so excited.

"They're playing Welsh music!!!" says Steff. "Holy shit!!!"

"Imagine if they played Sebona Fi!" I say, humorously.

"Nah," says Steff. "You can't in a restaurant. There'd be a riot, it's faerie music."

"...what?" says Sam

We explain the cultural phenomenon that is Sebona Fi. The song changes: Primadonna Girl, by Marina and the Diamonds.

"She's Welsh??" says Sam.

"She's from Abergavenny!" we beam.

"I don't know what that means," nods Sam, who is from Singapore.

Next: The Bartender and the Thief, by the Stereophonics. We're in high spirits. The extraordinarily Welsh wine arrives, as does the rarebit on sourdough starter. Sam, a gay man, delightedly orders the faggots and peas.

They play Ben Rhys by Gwilym Bowen Rhys, and we lose our shit again. Sam is now used to this, because comedians are adaptable. "They even have daffodils!" I say, misty eyed. "Is that relevant?" Sam asks, fascinated.

They play Hiraeth, by PLU. Hard to explain that one. Very hard to explain the effect it has when it's played in a restaurant, but Sam looks around the suddenly muted room and whispers "Are we in church?"

"It's about Hiraeth," whispers Steff. "So kind of."

Next: the Masses Against the Classes, by the Manics. Utter tonal whiplash. This playlist is not remotely restaurant appropriate. It's perfect.

"You'd think they'd pick like... a genre," Sam says dreamily. "We just went from church to the barricades."

The faggots arrive. "I forgot it would be a western sized portion," Sam says morosely, of what to me is a normal sized plate of food. He tries one, and brightens.

They play Sebona Fi.

The place erupts.

#I am going back there #going to try the rarebit next time #and the popcorn cockles #WALES! #closed for cleaning on mondays

[fiddleleafedfig]

@wolfstarmicrofic | April 23:rd Teacher AU | Also inspired by this incredible post | 971 words

“It’s because I’m gay.”

Dora’s words had echoed in his head for the better duration of two years.

Two years.

Jesus Christ.

It sounds more clear now that there isn’t an ever pressing haze of alcohol clouding his brain. But alas, he frankly can’t afford to be an alcoholic anymore. He wasn’t even that good at it. A bottle of wine every evening and Remus just turned into a weepier version of his otherwise quite bleak self and watched old rom-coms on tv until he fell asleep on the couch.

But an English teacher’s salary isn’t hefty enough to really support a proper addiction and Remus hadn’t ever been the type of person to steal a car or break into someone’s house just to fuel his habit. With his luck he’d get caught right away anyway.

“This can’t come as a surprise, Rem, we never even had an active sexlife.”

Sure, fine, maybe they hadn’t. But they had been married for years; university best friends turned adult lovers and confidants turned married at twenty five and divorced at thirty three.

The divorce had at least been simple, easy, just like anything else about their relationship. One second she was there, dying her hair in the tub and staining it all bubblegum pink — the next she was moving out and downloading lesbian dating apps.

Remus munches salad from his little packed lunch. He should be planning his classes whilst having lunch — he refuses to, he’d rather sit here all bent-backed and pretend that the salad actually tastes better, that he isn’t regretting moving across the country to get away from it all. That his new life isn’t sinking his mood just like the old one did.

There’s a knock on his classroom door.

Remus looks up from his sad salad. “Come in?”

The door, covered in prints of Shakespeare plays and old illustrations of Of Mice and Men and other English class classics, opens to reveal the knocker.

Sirius has his hair in a bun today, black strands tied back and into a scrunchy that could rival the cheekiest of cheerleaders’. Other than that he is in his usual all black attire, all except his rainbow colored lanyard which holds his keys and the miniature periodic table keyring.

Sirius smiles. It’s all gray eyes that look like they’re sparkling under the hideous fluorescents and can make even the toughest lunch lady blush.

“Hi Remus, is this a bad time?”

Remus tries to swallow the tightness in his throat.

He can’t really deal with Sirius popping by like this, he’s done it quite frequently since Remus’ first week.

“No, not really,” he says, trying to keep his hands from fiddling and his eyes from darting around the room. “What can I help you with?”

Sirius shrugs, careless and relaxed. “I was just wondering if I could borrow your stapler. Seems like mine’s wandered off.”

Sirius drives a motorbike to school.

Remus saw him get off it in the parking lot not too long ago. It felt like the world stood still or maybe moved in slow motion when Sirius removed his helmet and shook his hair out, kitted out in leather. Then his neck got all hot, for some god forsaken reason, and he had to go splash cold water on his face before facing his students in the first period.

So many of Sirius’ supplies have gone missing in the short time where they have worked together.

“Erhm… Yeah, sure— absolutely,” Remus stumbles through sentences as he stands to go fetch the stapler in the supply closet. He turns the little key and quickly looks over the closet, a bit too aware that Sirius is coming closer; if he isn’t misinterpreting the scuff of boots on the floor.

He grabs the stapler, turns around. “Here.”

Sirius is right behind him, right in front of him now. Looking up at Remus with his easy smile and rows of lovely black lashes and… and… and pink lips.

“Thanks, I’ll give it back as soon as I’m done, okay?”

“Yeah…”

Sirius leaves. Remus has to go sit down, he’s feeling dizzy.

“Are you even attracted to me, Rem? I mean— it’s fine if you aren’t. Maybe I’m not your type or something.”

There was always something hidden in Dora’s words, at least in those words. Remus hadn’t come any closer to figuring them out, not even two years later.

He just sits in his darkening apartment, playing those words over and over whilst watching-but-not-really-watching tv. He should really go over to Sirius’ classroom tomorrow. You know, just to make sure he remembers to give the stapler back. And it has absolutely nothing to do with what Dora said those years ago, nothing at all.

In the following morning, Remus dresses in his good shirt and wrestles with his hair for a touch longer than usual. Why? Don’t worry about it.

He goes into work with a determination and anxiety churning in his belly.

He walks up to Sirius’ classroom, a print of Neil deGrasse Tyson on the door, and knocks.

Deep breath.

Sirius opens the door. Light eyes and smiling lips and an overall undeniably beautiful face.

Stapler, that’s what he’s there for.

“Will you go out with me?”

What?! No!

Remus was supposed to ask about the stapler!

Fuck!

Sirius just looks back up at him, glittering eyes and widening smile. He doesn’t say anything.

Remus tries to backpedal. “The stapler — I really need my stapler, that’s what I meant.”

Sirius just smiles. “So I just missed the point two second window of going out with you?”

There’s cotton in Remus’ ears, ringing in his brain. “No— I mean… Wait— Did you want to go out with me?”

Sirius’ smile looks like it’s almost too big for his face. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#wolfstar microfic #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #writing #fig’s venturing out into the world of microfics #anything to procrastinate my actual large writing project

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hi! I started listening to Chappell Roan after seeing a post about her on your blog, and now I'm obsessed. Could you please give me some more music recommendations? Thanks!!!

god I love this. no further specifications, just carte blanche to go hogwild and recommend anything.

you didn't even ask for any structure but I'm nothing if not constantly looking for an excuse to be extra, so I've provided one tangentially thematically related recommendation for almost song on Midwest Princess (not all of them, tumblr won't let me do more than ten audio links booo)

Femininomenon 🏍️

listen, girlies: we're NEVER going to have a femininomenon if we can't even stop talking about these mediocre boys. move along! forget about them!

Red Wine Supernova 🍷

the theme is being so horny it changes how your brain is wired.

After Midnight 💃

mom doesn't like you wearing that dress and red lipstick and dad doesn't like you bleaching your hair, but what if you just had fun?

Casual 🧜🏽‍♀️

so, you've escaped an unbearable situationship.

Super Graphic Ultra Modern Girl 🛸

this is a song for the guy with the fugly jeans who didn't ask you a single question and won't dance

HOT TO GO! 🍟

I'd like to think serpentwithfeet is getting closer than those damn gloves in the same club where Chappell is trying to get to hot hands on her body. gay hands cinematic universe.

My Kink Is Karma 😈

is sitting back watching them ruin their own life not enough anymore? get proactive!

Kaleidoscope ✨

so. the relationship got Weird and now nothing will ever be the same :/

Pink Pony Club 🐎

the queer country king himself. incidentally I would KILL for Orville Peck to cover Pink Pony Club.

Guilty Pleasure 🚬

Chappell said we could go to hell but we'll probably be fine; Rina said this hell is better with you. songs for queer girlies who aren't scared of the devil, you know what I mean?

[nats-firefly]

i touch my phone as if it's your face

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: nat's on a mission every valentine's day. this time she can call you. right?

warnings: none really, just kinda sad

a/n: happy valentine's day to all my long distance gays. i feel your pain. this was something i very quickly put together. vent fic, sue me.

words: 750 | feedback is always welcome | masterlist

divider source | gif source

You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, swiping the tip of your index finger under your lip to fix your lipstick. It had been over an hour since you started getting ready, the anticipation of seeing your girlfriend growing bigger every second that ticked by. 

Valentine’s day is apparently a surprisingly busy time for superheroes, in all the years the two of you have been together, Natasha has been away for all of them. But this year she promised you you’d be able to call and have dinner together. She was undercover as some unreasonably rich guy’s assistant like she had been for Tony back in the day. While he was enjoying the night with his girlfriend, she’d have the chance to call you after doing recon in his private study. Allegedly. 

Natasha being away meant you didn’t get to talk or text or see her very often. It also meant since this was your first time seeing her in months, you wanted to dress up for her. You even put on a special set of lingerie under your clothes so you could give her a show after dinner. 

You had spent the better part of the day preparing for your date with Natasha. You made a hearty plate of pasta, poured yourself a glass of wine. You even lit a candle. Then you waited. 

You picked up your phone to check your messages to see if Natasha had said anything. 

Can’t wait for our date tonight. Delivered.

She hadn’t texted you back since you sent her that text this morning. You didn’t know which part of the world she was in, but from the small details she’d told you it didn’t seem like she was out of the country. Maybe it was just not dinnertime for her yet. Maybe something was wrong. Maybe she’d been caught.

You checked your phone again, but nothing had changed. Maybe you just needed to get your mind off of it. You took your glass of wine and settled yourself on the couch, putting on an episode of your favorite show. One glass turned into two, which turned into three. It was late at night, so you decided to reheat your cold and forgotten plate of pasta. 

As you slumped against the kitchen counter waiting for your food to reheat, your phone screen lights up, followed by the repeated vibrations signaling a video call. Your face lit up and your heart beat loudly in your chest as you clicked answer.

“Baby,” Natasha breathed in relief when she saw your face pop up on her phone. She had been looking forward to talking to you all day. Her ‘boss’ had sent her on a wild last minute goose chase to set up a Valentine’s surprise for his girlfriend. In true rich guy fashion he had done none of the work, but Natasha needed to stay on his good side for a little while longer. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Nat,” Your finger slides over her cheek and down the side of your phone. Your eyes tear up a bit. Your chest aches and your lip trembles. “I really miss you.”

“Me too, angel,” Natasha says, she notices the change in your expression. She thinks about quitting her job. “Happy Valentine’s Day, malysh.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” You answer. The microwave beeps, but you ignore it, deciding to focus on the redhead on your phone instead. You want to crawl through the screen. Desperation rises in your chest. You don’t know what to do with yourself. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Natasha feels a knot in her throat. She hates being away from you. “Tell me how you’ve been, baby. How’s work? Did that guy in accounting get fired?”

“Oh, Tom? Yeah he-” You were interrupted by a muffled male voice. Then things happened very quickly.

“Oh,” Natasha said, being caught off guard then briefly looking at you with an almost apologetic look.

“Natalie, can you fi-” Call disconnected. 

You stared back at your reflection on the phone screen. You got two minutes with her. 

You went to bed still wearing the clothes and lingerie that were supposed to end up on the floor that night. With the plate of pasta forgotten in the microwave, and mascara stains on your pillow.

As you numbly scrolled through your phone every Valentine’s day post was like a slap to the face. 

Everyone had their someone. Except you. 

Happy fucking Valentine’s Day.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x reader angst #bonk.nat #bonk.angst

[feelingthedisaster]

so, me and my mom's bonding activity is to watch shows together, so this means i get to hear her live commentary and opinions. i made a list of my favourites

(disclaimer: this doesnt mean i agree/support what she said)

she talked about jared padalacki and jensen ackles's hotness through supernatural, but not like who's hotter or aged like wine/aged badly, she talked about it in an analytical sense: how the producers used their physical attributes for views and how it changed their portrait as the fans reacted/the actores aged (she says sam started as the 'pretty boy' of the show but as it progressed it stopped)

she insists the actor of eddie was going through some health issues during the filming of season six of 911. her reasoning is that they didnt show his abs as much as they did in the previus seasons so they were covering something up (yep, she went "im not seeing my regular order of firefighter abs, something is wrong")

on the same lane, she also says he got better bc they did show his abs more in season 7

"is this by netflix, right? the intros are all the same"

she diagnosed castiel with autism (she is a psychologist btw)

intense staring at me when rosa diaz came out as bi (which i obviusly ignored)

*watching the harry styles fanfiction movie* me: "dont you ever do that to me" / her: "all your faves are dead"

a lot of complains about the recycling and predictability of the plot of supernatural

an incredible awkard car conversation about lockwood's survivor guilt (we googled his backstory) as the reason of his reckless/almost suicidal actions [she clearly did not want to add to the conversation but i guess the psychologist in her had to]

spn s8, aaron flirting with dean scene "they are making dean gay, arent they?" (didnt tell her anything, there some things you gotta let them figure out on their own)

*edwin payne exists* "well, that's a repressed gay"

[context: we watch shows in english with english subtitles but we are not from a english speaking country, she learned english when she was young and i currently go to classes] me: "i dont need to study for the english test i have tomorrow, i just need to watch one more episode. in fact, tv is actively studying for the listening comphrension part" / her: "right, then im not procrastinating work, im just helping my daughter study for her test then" / "right" / "right"

#gotta love her #thank god this is a “secret” account bc i dont think she would appreciate me telling on the internet about her comments #supernatural #castiel #jared padalecki #spn #jensen ackles #911 #911 abc #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #brooklyn 99 #rosa diaz #eddie diaz #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #autistic castiel #destiel #dean winchester

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

i explain india but i'm drunk.

Hello maggots of mine you're all such babygirls and bastards just like Aziraphale and Crowley. I'm so proud of you all for existing. Yes i'm a wholesome drunk you now know this about me. The wine tastes like rotten grapes and smells of battery acid and cost 245 rupees INR. Speaking of INR, thanks to a maggot's ask, I'm here to explain India. I've never set foot outside of this country. But I'm also very very shit at general knowledge.

To any non-Indians reading this, this is a totally legit 1000% everything covered all-inclusive summary. To any Indians reading this, I'm so so fucking sorry.

India, explained.

So there's south india and there's north india and there's north east india. north india is very racist about south india and they're both very racist about north east india. Most of these people are also probably racist either to other countries or they have internalised racism. It's a wild trip.

There are. A lot of languages here. And a LOT of scripts. I can read two scripts, understand four Indian languages and speak in two of them (badly), and those two are not my native tongues. I cannot speak in my native tongues. It's basically English at this point. These aren't dialects, those are separate. Picture like, Europe, but more, in terms of how many languages.

Everyone hates each other which is valid for the entire planet honestly.

In south india we have a lot of coconuts. Like a lot. There are so many coconuts you have no fucking idea guys you cannot escape the coconuts. I was nearly killed by a shower of coconuts when I was 5 I escaped by one second.

There are also cows. People will tell you that you are being racist when you say India has cows everywhere. But it's true. Two weeks ago I had the pleasure to be stuck in a traffic jam. Next to the street barrier thing (what divides a street im too drunk for this) I saw a huge bull fucking HUMPING a cow. The vehicles just had to move around them. They were having sex right there.

If you're a middle class Indian kid, your career options are: doctor, engineer, scientist, CA, lawyer, government official or family disappointment.

Needless to say, I was going to be doctor and am now instead family disappointment. I'm babygirling so hard it's insane. The prodigal son.

It's very ace-friendly and heterophobic in the sense that you are not supposed to be exhibiting any sexuality whatever in a respectable household. Just shut up and give virgin birth already. But be married. That's crucial.

Oh yeah gay marriage isn't legal trans people are constantly othered by society and/or given no respect whatsover and we're just all vibing here this is totally not why I'm finishing a small bottle of cheap wine on a thursday past midnight alone in my room.

Foreigners are like a zoo species you see them you're instantly concerned like what are they doing outside the TV screens and then either people are normal (rarely), they run up and take photos or try to slip into conversation (more often than you'd think, even I've been guilty of the conversation thing as a kid) OR they start talking about how 'this western culture is ruining our culture'. Which is fair but honestly both the 'cultures' these people are talking about usually involve incredible amounts of bigotry and are more similar than they think.

I think the lesson here is that humans just suck as a species. Except for you maggots. I love you all and I will defend you with my life.

THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT IS INSANELY AMAZING. YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND THE CHAAT. I HAVE NO SPICE TOLERANCE SO I HAVE TO BEG ON MY KNEES FOR THE SPICES TO BE REDUCED BUT STILL. THE CHAAT. THE CHAAT, YOU GUYS. YOU NEED IT.

Sorry yes I'm normal. ALSO THE STREET DOGS. THE INDIES. THEY'RE SO LOVELY AND SWEET AND CHAOTIC AND I KEEP TALKING TO THEM. Once when I was crying I made the dog distress while and like five dogs that I didn't know came running to me and comforted me and licked me.

INDIAN DANCE MUSIC. I FUCKING LOVE IT IT'S INSANE. My family were elitist as fuck so I never got to listen to Bollywood music as a kid but it's AMAZING I'm so glad it exists. Bhangra too.

Beaches very very pretty hills very very pretty honestly the nature is fucking beautiful if you can just quickly pretend humans don't exist, which again is true of this entire planet. Yeah. Okay I'm so fucking drunk.

Yeah lots of diversity which is very nice when the humans aren't screaming at each other about it but the rest of the time it's very nice

The garbage and sewer stories? yeah they're all true im sorry

Traffic rules more like traffic suggestions amirite

Well, we still have far better healthcare access than america. so. there is that.

If you speak English well you'll be mocked and isolated. If you speak English poorly you'll be mocked and isolated. Honestly, just be rich. That'll fix it all.

All the conservatives hate each other and don't realise they're the exact same but in like different flavours.

Oh yeah we have auto rickshaws. Look them up. They're so much better than cars I don't get motion sick as easily in them. But the drivers all hate you and never want to take you anywhere.

Eyyyyyyyyyy it's so fucking fun here *drinsk more alcohol* I am so fucking not looking forward to college.

Please someone crowdfund me out of here let's all go chill in Alpha Centauri I've heard it's nice this time of the year.

I will, however, miss the casual live cow pornos. A true highlight.

[I got this peer-reviewed by my friend in India's top law school, just in case, because I'm too drunk and generally dumb. They say I will not be killed. And they've been on Twitter so.]

Irrefutable legal proof y'all. I don't mean to offend anyone except bigots. Fuck you, bigots, if you're not offended then I've disappointed my community.

#good omens mascot #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #maggots #lgbtqia #india #indian fandom #desiblr #desi tumblr #being desi #india explained #trans rights #marriage equality #lmao marriage equality imagine that #transgender rights #transgender #lgbtqia rights #lgbtq rights #lgbtq community #queer community #asia #asian parents #indian parents #truly a species #man humans are wild #gay rights

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

Specifically the support team with a tall fem! Reader! (To be detailed like 6'0ft and over 6'0 if in heels)

Just admit you people have mommy issues. I cannot take this ask seriously lord please help me.

Tall Fem!reader with the TF2 Support mercs

Warning: mildly NSFW. why are you doing this to me. I’m a gay cis dude irl

Sniper:

- Fucking short circuits. Think brock levels of simping from pokemon. Maybe not outwardly but on the inside he’s promising you the world. Wishes to be your little step tool. Every time you play rough with him he becomes a submissive little shit. Goes “oowwww :(((“ when he’d otherwise not. Other Mercs are outstanded on how fast you humbled him. Regardless of your relationship with him he’ll ask you if you could be his mother figure because his current mother is.. Well I mean she’s dead. This is entirely non-sexual.

- 50 points if goth girl and 100 points if trans girl. He’s into men and nonbinary folk too but whenever it’s a girl, it’s always mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry.

- Gets oddly soft with you and nobody else. Becomes clingy and desperate for your attention to the extent of protecting you on the battlefield and overall showing off with his shots. Becomes more awkward than he usually would. Stumbles over his words and panics when speaking to you. You find it cute.

————————————————————————-

Medic:

- “Ah! Yes! the new person. Hello little fräulein!” He immediately turned around and waved to greet you the first time… Before slowly realizing your head was higher than his shoulders and trailed his eyes upward. Meeting your gaze with awkward silence. He had bent down suspecting an innocent, small and adorable woman and so had to immediately stand up and straighten his posture. A majority of girls from his village were abhorrently short.

- “Ah… I see…” He turns away and fixes his glasses. Going back to whatever the hell math he was jotting on his chalkboard. You could vaguely make out it was some sort of failsafe for in case the medigun failed to deploy charge. You were more intrigued over the fact you were taller than this man. You leaned over his head to check your height— Which made him nervous of course.

- “Must you be so nosey? Hah! Relax. It’s not a shrink ray or anything!” He joked. You didn’t know if you should be offended by that or that or not. “Of course, mind you, I do know how to make that. But I don’t have the time nor resources sadly. Then again, everybody must be shrunken to you.” Medic then proceeds to suppress his mild attraction to you; instead opting to tear you to shreds with his sick roasts about your height. Wow, somebody’s insecure.

——————————————————————-

Spy:

- BARK BARK BARK WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF!!!!! Heterosexual beams primed. Neurons activated. Eyes bulge out of head awooga awooooga

- ONE single glance of you is all it takes and his seduction skills become second nature. The next day you find roses on the end table next to your bed. With a letter, written in flawless english incursive about meeting you on the roof of the base after sunset. The letter even had hints of his sweet smelling cologne on it. Talk about overkill.

- Well you see him there and he’s there, leaning against the railing with his suit unbuttoned. His tie hanging loose on his neck and treating himself to a glass of wine. “Ah, pardon me mademoiselle, I’m afraid the deserts of this country are a bit.. Harsh on me sometimes.” You have never seen such a cheesy display in your entire life. There’s even a picnic table there with candles and dinner. You almost wanted to dropkick him because of how disgustingly sweet this was. Yuck.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #medic x reader #spy x reader #sniper x reader

[lesbiankimdahyun]

Summer Session

1K words

CW: None!

A/N: we are so back, baby <3 special appearance (in name only) made by SEVENTEEN’s Vernon!

[Sana x F!Reader] 

Requested: Yes

Your start to the summer was boring. You hated to admit it, but it was a little lonely without the rest of your classmates around in your college town. For the 65 members of your graduate school cohort, summer meant trying to fulfill mandatory internship requirements and putting in a few hundred hours of service in your soon-to-be field. You were lucky to get an internship in the city, avoiding the hassle of subletting and juggling double rent for the next three months. But staying put also meant you were separated from everyone else; your closest school friends were now scattered across the country, interning in other cities and less available now that you were all in different time zones. 

Desperate to be able to talk to someone face to face instead of over FaceTime, you downloaded Tinder. Finding a partner was of zero interest to you at the moment, but you figured if you went on enough awkward first dates, you’d meet someone who could stick as a friend. A lot of your current friendships had started out that way, anyway– as first and second dates that shifted into platonic relationships instead. You knew it was possible, you just had to put in a little effort. 

One warm Friday night in June, you prepared dinner for yourself eagerly, happy to be done interning for the week. Clearing some space for your plate on the coffee table, you sat down in front of your TV. Taking a sip of the chilled wine you’d poured, you hit play on a new drama series and settled in to watch and eat.

Your meal was delicious, but the pilot episode of the show wasn’t as good as you’d hoped. Part of the way through, you pulled out your phone and opened Tinder. Your eyes flicked back and forth between the television screen and the profiles of girls on your phone. You swiped halfheartedly for a while, but quickly lost interest in that, too. You were just about to grab your book and turn the TV off when you did a double take at the next profile Tinder brought up for you. 

You knew her.

It was a girl from your cohort: Sana. You sat up straight, nearly knocking your wine over as you blindly reached for it, eyes still taking in the pretty dark haired girl on your screen. You had always thought Sana seemed fruity, but since she never attended any of the queer student activities for your program and you’d never seen her at any of the gay clubs, you thought for sure you’d read her wrong. 

Taking a quick screenshot, you hurriedly took another sip of wine and quickly sent it to Chaeyoung, a close friend in your program. Within seconds, your phone was vibrating with her reply.

Chae 🍓: omg 

Chae 🍓: SANA?!?!?!?!?!

Chae 🍓: !!!!!!!!

Chae 🍓: i fucking knew it!!!!!

Chae 🍓: was it a match 👀

You hesitated for a moment, then went back to the app and swiped right before all of your courage left you. The app simply presented the profile of another girl after Sana’s disappeared. You chuckled to yourself, slightly embarrassed as you crafted a reply. No, you sent. Sorry to get your hopes up~ 

You hadn’t realized your own hopes had been up until Sunday night arrived and you noticed that  none of the matches you’d gotten on the app over the weekend were Sana. And when Chae texted you curiously about it on Monday, it was even more embarrassing to admit that you had nothing new to report. You decided to give up on having any hope at all the next day. It wasn’t like you and Sana were close, after all. You’d only ever hung out outside of class to work on occasional group projects with her. There was no reason at all to expect anything from her.  

But on Wednesday while you ate lunch alone on the outdoor deck of your internship office’s downtown headquarters, your phone vibrated. You sighed a little, setting down your sweating can of pop before grabbing your phone. You assumed it was a Slack message from a coworker at worst, and at best a text from Chaeyoung or another one of your friends. To your surprise, the two incoming texts you had just gotten were from a number you didn’t know. 

Unknown: hey, is this Y/N? 

Unknown: it’s Sana 😊

Your eyes went wide. How did she get your number? You were about to pull up your message conversation with Chaeyoung, but another text from Sana appeared. Your feeling of pleasant surprise changed to complete and utter horror. Sana had sent you a screenshot of your own Tinder profile. 

Maybe: Sana: saw you~ i didn’t know you were around for the summer! 

You locked your phone immediately and screamed silently, begging the earth to swallow you whole. It didn’t, so instead, you saved Sana’s number, then took a screenshot of the whole conversation and sent it to Chaeyoung with lightning speed. You had to, you thought, before you died of mortification. You gave Chae all of fifteen seconds before you then glanced at your watch and called her. 

“I was literally just about to call you,” Chaeyoung’s voice was bursting with excitement. “She totally wants you,” she teased, laughing. “Well?” 

You groaned. “I haven’t replied yet! And stop laughing, I might have to transfer to another program out of state because how EMBARRASSING this is.”

“Oh come on, this is a great segue!” Chaeyoung replied. “Tell her–” Chae’s voice cut out a little as your phone vibrated– another incoming text. You pulled your phone away from your ear and exhaled sharply. 

Sana: vernon gave me your #, i hope that’s cool. we should hang sometime! are you free this weekend? :]

“Y/N? Hello?” Chae’s voice seemed soft and distant as you stared at your screen. You hadn’t put Chaeyoung on speakerphone, but her waiting silence felt louder somehow. 

“She–” you cleared your throat a little as you processed everything and put your phone back up to your ear. “She just asked if I’m free this weekend.” 

#twice imagines #twice x f!reader #twice x fem reader #sana imagines #twice x reader #we're not sinning yet #but we will be

[radfemverity]

Tucker Carlson's interview with misogynist, human trafficker and rapist Andrew Tate has been endorsed by Elon Musk, the man who brought Tate among many other reactionary and far-right commentators back to Twitter when he purchased the platform.

There is nothing spontaneous about Musk doing this, and if you're surprised then you're a fool. This has never been about upholding free speech - hence why you've never seen any of these men promote interesting left-wing thinkers.

The ‘SJW’/‘woke’/progressive Left, as unbearably annoying as so many of them are, just keep getting proven right.

They said Nick Fuentes and Kanye were Holocaust-denying anti-semites.

They said Jordan Peterson supported rapists, and didn't believe women should have legal equality.

They said Ben Shapiro and Matt Walsh would use the gender critical movement to blame gay people and women for any and all degeneracies.

They said Tucker Carlson and Elon Musk's recent ‘free speech’ moves were about repositioning themselves so that they could more effectively elevate the voices of overt extremists.

Again and again, their accusations are ageing like fine wine. The reactionary right’s mask is well and fully off.

Andrew Tate, Elon Musk, Tucker Carlson, Jordan Peterson, Ben Shapiro, Matt Walsh, Joe Rogan, Konstantin Kissin, Paul Joseph Watson, Ian Miles Cheong, Andy Ngo, Michael Malice, Elijah Schaffer, Zuby, Milo Yionnopoulous, Tommy Robinson, Nick Fuentes, Kanye West, Donald Trump… obviously some of these men could dislike each other, I can't imagine Shapiro and Fuentes at the same house party.

But their ideal societies don't look too different. None of these mens’ do. Because any racial, religious or ethnic prejudices they have against each other will come second to their common-ground.

The organised reaction against this brand of progressivism that has rapidly come to monopolise every sector of public life in the last 10 years, is well and truly underway. Musk, Carlson and Tate have given us the sign. And while I pretty heavily dislike the current ‘woke’ progressive ideology (and have a lot of questions about its top-down cultural spread), I'm scared of these guys way more. And if you're anything but a straight man who doesn’t care about any demographic besides straight men, you should be too.

The reason I say ‘straight men’ and not ‘straight white men’ is because, come on, the reactionary right is more racially diverse than most left-wing groups at this point. 😂😂 White nationalists the world over have bent the knee to a mixed-race man who admitted moving to an Eastern European country because of their more lax laws on sexual assault, and in turn, the ease he would have in exploiting the local women in the country’s already active sex-trafficking trade.

White nationalists (whose role in the reactionary right cannot be discarded any more, after Trump and Kanye had a personal dinner with Nick Fuentes) feel more of an affiliation with a non-white, human trafficking violent rapist, despite evidence of his crimes having been public for a while now, than they do with his WHITE victims.

Jordan Peterson, whose daughter has revolved her entire public image around him, who works with and for him, and whose lingerie photographs were retweeted by him, made a dogwhistle in May about women having their right to vote retracted.

Examples of men devaluing the contributions and rights of the women in their families, communities and wider societies are withstanding the test of time, over and over again, because no matter where in the world they are, and no matter what tensions the different religions, cultures, ethnicities and races of men have with each other, there are traits that unite them all. Misogyny is the most obvious one.

The men of these diverse, far-reaching societies, in many ways feel far more of a kinship to each other, than they do to any woman, girl, gay person, disabled person, mother, child, or any other demographic.

The pendulum always swings back, and now that we know these men have got the owner of the world's biggest social media platform on their side, that is a major sign it could be coming soon. Be on guard and look after each other gyns ❤️

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I was chatting to my uncle about his time in service the other day and what it was like in 2000 when gay people were allowed to openly serve in the military for the first time.

I didn't tell him I was researching fanfic, he just likes chatting with me about politics and history because I'm his Pet Socialist Nephew and it's like a whole new world for him.

(My aunt worked for MI5 and they met in Cyprus while both were deployed; I'm pretty sure they're the reason I got to the late stages - NePoTiSm - but then I disappointed them to become a Tofu-Eating Wokerati Teacher. Yes, I am an ex-Tory, let's not.)

He was a lawyer in the RAF and spent most of his time prosecuting soldiers for misconduct. There is shit he has to take to his grave, especially surrounding the Gulf War. But he remembers dishonourable discharges for "sodomy" and how distasteful he found the "whole sordid business" when there were people still serving who had done "unspeakable things", and he told me about the slow dismantling of those laws, with the help of Stonewall, and the impact it had on so many men and women in the service.

He recalled one particularly terrifying NCO who often ridiculed him for his belly (my uncle likes cheese and wine, a lot; we got through a bottle of Merlot each...I'm pretty sure he opened a second) kissing his partner of 16 years openly, in full uniform, at the 2008 London Pride; how this "incorrigible" man broke down in tears because for the first time he wasn't torn in half: he could love both his country and his partner openly.

Now, this story is a fucking gold mine for me... Cause...

Can you imagine the 141 going to 2008? They think they're going to support their pet bi-disaster, Soap. Figure they'll go in No2s cause they'll be drinking and walking a lot. Then fucking Ghost rocks up in full No1s, shoes polished to an inch of their life like he's turned out for the god damn Queen.

When Soap teases him about how Extra he's being for lil ol' him, Ghost simply sighs and says, "I've waited my whole life for this, Johnny... I'm doin' it right."

That's how Ghost "comes out" to the 141, because of course it is. He doesn't do things in half measures. Soap looks him up and down and tries to play it cool, but Price can see how he's vibrating on the spot and figures they should fall in before Soap executes an unscheduled halo dive on Ghost's dick...

Johnny gets his kiss; by the lions of Nelson's column, under the admiral's watchful eye. Ghost's beret clenched in fist, strong arms clutching him so close, like Ghost's worried the moment might still be snatched from him at any point.

Johnny won't ever mention the tears he tastes between their lips. Some things just need to be let go.

#call of duty #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #personal #ramblings #tldr i frisked a retired Group Captain for some intel on the gays and struck gold

[rebeccasteventaylor]

Still thinking about Frank and Bill and it occurred to me that an apocalypse is the only time Bill even felt he could allow himself to be gay.

He’s a prepper - a survivalist, someone steeped in a ‘macho’ culture where being gay would be looked down on, rejected, even got him killed.

I wonder - when he dreamed of the oncoming apocalypse, the one he spent all his life preparing for, did he also dream of perhaps meeting someone? Of a man coming out of a forest? A man who would appreciate his cooking skills and piano playing (not the kind of skill the men who knew Bill would appreciate. Too sissy). At night, lying in bed, listening to his neighbours, did he allow himself to dream of a world where he could be alone, live as he liked, not be judged or condemned? And perhaps - someone he could love, who would love him - but that was asking too much.

And then he found himself alone, and free to do what he liked, and run his world as he wished, and drink fine wine with rabbit and listen to soft country music. And he thinks that’s enough, that all he can ask for.

And then the alarm sounds and he goes to the hole on the ground and sees Frank standing there and he allows himself to think ‘oh. There you are’

And the world has fallen apart and the air stinks of death and he has to fight to protect his life but finally - finally the world has changed into one on which Bill can fall in love with Frank with all his soul.

#tlou #the last of us #bill and frank #long long time

[communistkenobi]

i know next to nothing about queer theory, but i did exist online during (what felt like) huge exclusionary periods (ace discourse, bi/pan discourse, and transmedicalism were the big ones i remember)

i wonder if the first drive for sexuality being something unchangeable and intrinsic to you had something to do with those things, that queerness was fixed and definable, which meant that there were strict lines to be drawn about who was and wasn't gay/lesbian/bi which was only made worse by trans and nonbinary people who didn't exactly fit the previous molds

ill be doubly honest and say i only interacted w/ the community online at the time bc living in a homophobic country doesnt give you a lot of opportunities to meet up in person which means my view of the whole thing is skewed. im not sure if this makes any sense

What I’m about to say isn’t a diagnosis of the causes behind those discourses (partly because i don’t think there is a single reason animating those arguments), but like I guess in general a very baseline authority people fall back on is biology. Dominant reactionary discourses describe being gay trans etc as a lifestyle choice, as an active decision to participate in sexual and gendered degeneracy, and so a very appealing counter-claim to make is to point to biology - we are born this way, we can’t help who we are just as cishet people cannot help who they are, so you should accept us because we can’t change our identity. That rhetorical strategy requires/assumes a stable sexual and gendered ontology, a primary authority of the body that can’t be altered. While I believe this argument is fundamentally flawed, I think this is a straightforwardly easy argument to make re: sexual orientation. With trans and non-binary people this is more difficult because the foundational claim to our existence is that gender is mutable, is alterable, is subject to change (and also “I’ve felt this way since I was a child” is a pathological model of gender dysphoria that is enforced through medical and psychiatric institutions, not a reflection of lived reality for many, many trans and non-binary people). That doesn’t necessarily mean being transgender is a “choice” (although if someone said they woke up one day and chose to be transgender then that is a perfectly authentic justification), especially because “choice” in these discussions is often framed as individualised, private, detached from the social world - we are all just free agents making rational autonomous decisions in a field of equally rational choices, etc. which I think is a very impoverished way to understand choice and agency. Gender is an institution, it is a set of behaviours and performances that we choose to engage in in many different ways, and my use of the word ‘choice’ there does not imply these choices are free from coercion, violence, or harm. I chose to transition, I chose to engage in performances and behaviours that signal to the social world that I am a man - where that desire to make those choices arises from is another matter, and honestly not one I’m super interested in figuring out. Like if I discovered the ‘origin’ of my transness it wouldn’t make any difference to me. Similarly, how I choose to signal masculinity is very obviously bound up in dominant gendered assumptions. Trans people get accused of upholding gendered norms a lot, but that’s only because we aren’t taken seriously unless we do so! It is a survival mechanism that allows us to better navigate incredible amounts of violence and social exclusion, and arguing that our desire to do gender with our bodies comes from some grade-school assumption that dress = woman and pants = man or whatever is pure projection on the part of cis people. cis men think if they drink pink wine they’ll become gay - trans people are not the ones enforcing these norms here.

Getting a bit far afield here, so to loop back around - I think a stable state of sexual and gendered subjectivity or “being” is very appealing to a lot of people because it’s a way to dismiss reactionary fears and to justify to yourself that your oppression is entirely out of your control (which is true obviously!). Again I think these arguments are flawed because they buy into cisgendered and heteronormative ideas about gender and sexuality, that it is a biological burden imposed on us, that deviance is not a choice, that gender is done to us as opposed to being gendered agents, that we are similarly trapped in a sexual prison and should be accepted on those grounds, etc, but they have massive rhetorical power.  

As I’ve said before I’m a pretty staunch believer in Butler’s assertion that it is social all the way down, that gender is not discoverable in the body but rather the body is the medium through which gender is done in the world. Cis people choose to do gender just as much as trans people do! The only difference is that institutional architecture is set up to facilitate and make invisible (in very misogynistic and racist ways) those gendered practices. I think the stronger counter argument to make is that cis- and het-normativities are deeply violent and miserable status quos that need to be dismantled and discarded, that true choice can only emerge vis a vis gender and sexuality once those institutions are abolished, and that choice is actually a desirable end-goal - I want people to be able to participate in gender and sexuality as free agents, as non-coercive practices that are sites of great joy and wonder and pleasure. And this world is only possible if we accept that there is no gendered or sexual ontology, that it is all smoke and mirrors, that this current system’s primary function is to reproduce the nuclear family, to maintain the hereditary nature of class and wealth and race, to provide a standardised system of labour division, to maintain a distinction between the public and private labour realms, and so on.

So again like, is this what animates discourses about who gets to be counted as lgbtq/queer/whichever label you want to use? I don’t know. Probably some of it has to do with that. Queerness is in party a pathological category that is used to describe a failure to meaningfully reproduce cishet norms and practices, it is a set of relationships you have to legal and political and medical and administrative institutions (which is especially true for trans/non binary people). I like this definition because built into it is the possibility of change - I do not want trans people to be assimilated into cishet society, I want society to become transgender, thereby making transgender an irrelevant medical and legal category of person. Much like communism aims to abolish class by universalising the proletariat, I want to abolish gender by universalising the legal and political and medical mechanisms of transition. Only then will cisgenderism be abolished.

One thing I have been thinking a lot about is something a friend said to me, which is that human rights to do not begin with a definition of human - in the same way, I think trans rights do not require a definition of transgenderism. Just universalise and de-pathologise the mechanisms through which transition is expressed. Make it easy to change your name, remove all barriers to hormones and surgery, make everyone economically secure enough that they can change their wardrobe however they please,  desegregate all gendered spaces, de-gender clothing, remove gender markers from all documents, and so on and so on. Doing so would make both cisgender and transgender an irrelevant legal and political category and, again, allow choice to emerge as a meaningful mechanism of gender expression. 

This isn’t a comprehensive policy platform, there are many things I’m sure I haven’t thought through and a large portion of this discussion has to contend with the colonial and white supremacist nature of the western binary gender (bringing us into discussions of decolonial efforts, socialist efforts, and so on), but this is already getting long and I feel like I’m rambling. But like fundamentally I believe in a radical political imaginary that argues that all of this is subject to change and therefore any arguments about an essential gendered or sexual being is, at the end of the day, a reactionary description of gender and sexuality 

#asks #even old new york was once new amsterdam #effortpost #um. hope that makes sense lol #DO NOT START ARGUING ABOUT THIS IN THE NOTES BTW. FUCK OFF I AM NOT DOING ‘DISCOURSE’ ABOUT WHO COUNTS AS LGBTQ #I reject the premise of the question genuinely I think it is fundamentally irrelevant to our liberation

[aclaywrites]

This question is hilarious to me for several reasons.

In 1985 when I was a confused 16 year old in Midwest City, Oklahoma, I wanted to look for information about homosexuality. Me being me and it being 1985, I did the natural thing: went to the public library and looked up HOMOSEXUAL in the card catalogue. They had two books, the Kinsey Report (which I’d read) and another book whose name I wish I could recall. It was a blue canvas cover, clearly the dust jacket had been removed in case someone saw the word Lesbian, I assume.

I opened the book and leafed through it, looking for some sort of help and found a sentence I can still see when I close my eyes: “If you think you are a Lesbian, the first thing you have to do is decide if you’re butch or you’re femme. Otherwise no one will date you.” Slamming the book shut, I went home to think about it for a few more years.

Then when I was 21– in 1990, the year this book came out— I was ready for the dating scene. I put on my vintage dress, got my movie star face on, curled my long red hair and set out, only to meet a unified wall of dykes in cargo shorts who told me that I wasn’t really gay because only straight girls dress like that.

Butch/femme wasn’t just out of style, it was heteropatriachal regression and bad news. Not an option.

There was one moment— the first bar I ever went to, a lesbian bar called Partners. It no longer exists, alas, but I remember the smoky dark and the jukebox. My friends in their cargo shorts had bottles of Corona and I’m having white wine in a plastic cup. A country song comes on, and a woman appears at my elbow. Older than me. In her 40s at least, with a cowboy shirt, string tie, hair cut high and tight. “Would you like to dance?” I took her hand and we went to the floor. “I don’t know how to two-step,” I said, and she replied “I got you baby, just hold on.”

So to answer the question, I’m a lot femme and have a lot of love for butches.

#lesbian queries #lesbian query of the day #lesbian #lesbian history #herstory #butch/femme #gay #history #dykes #dykes to watch out for #dykes of tumblr #lgbt #lgbtqa #butch