#standing against biphobia

[void-wolfie]

family ties

summary: you decide it's finally come out to your parents.

pairing: Jenna Ortega x fem!Reader

tw: homophobia/biphobia, angst

words: 2.26k

a/n: it's my birthday, yay! here is a slightly birthday-themed post. this one hits me a bit hard but mostly because it largely stems from my own insecurities. anyways, y'all love your angst, so I figured I would supply.

*I am not paying for y'alls therapy, reader discretion is advised

You sat in your car outside the small two-story house. Its brown walls and open windows seemed to mock you, tall and daunting. Of course, it wasn’t the house that set your nerves on edge, your anxiety growing the longer you sat, it was what lay inside. Your parents.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jenna asked, watching you worriedly from the passenger seat.

No. You didn’t want to do this. You’d rather go back home and binge-watch TV with Jenna for the rest of the night. But what would life be if not for making hard choices?

“Not really. But I need to.” You grimaced, thinking about what horrors the night might bring.

“I’ll be right here the whole time,” Jenna interlocked your fingers with hers, doing her best to reassure you.

“Thank you, baby,” You brought her hand to your lips, kissing the back of her knuckles.

You knocked on the front door, pushing it open without waiting for anyone to answer it. It was your childhood home after all, and you knew your parents wouldn’t mind.

“Mom? Dad?” You stepped into the hallway, Jenna following just behind you.

“y/n?” Your mom appeared from around the corner, your dad just a few steps behind her.

“How are you, baby?” She held out her arms for a hug, which you fell into.

“I’m alright,”

“Good! Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Mom,”

She finally let you go, her eyes catching Jenna standing just over your shoulder. “Jenna, darling, so good to see you again!”

You let the two of them do their thing while you greeted your dad.

He pulled you in for a hug, patting you on the back, "Happy birthday, kiddo,"

"Thanks, Dad,"

Your dad was more on the quiet side, unlike your mom who was very much a social butterfly. He was usually the more relaxed one, which you often found comfort in.

The sound of conversation mixed with that of clinking silverware. Dinner had been served and everyone was catching up. Your parents were currently talking off your girlfriend’s ear, interrogating her on her up-and-coming projects.

But you weren't paying them any attention. Your eyes were dead set on the table, lost in your own world of thoughts. Would they be mad? Disappointed? Upset? Of course, they would be upset, this was going against everything they believed in... Would they call you names, or just shun you altogether? Would they throw you out? Cut you off? Not that you relied on them much anymore financially, but still, they were your parents...

"Earth to y/n, hello?" Your name being called brought you back from your spiraling thoughts. You looked up to find everyone looking in your direction. Jenna was shooting you a worried look, her hand intertwining with yours underneath the table.

"Oh, sorry," you apologized, hoping to brush off the awkwardness that clung to the air.

"Where'd you go, kiddo? We lost ya there for a second," your dad said with a chuckle, taking another bite of his food.

"Just thinking," you squeezed Jenna's hand, hoping your parents wouldn't notice how anxious you were. Your knee was bouncing up and down under the table, you nearly felt sick from all the worrying.

"Thinking about what?" Your mom asked.

Of course, she wanted to know. Ever so the nosy one, always needing to be in everyone's business.

"Um," should you tell them now? You looked at Jenna, wishing you could read her mind and know what she was thinking, but she only looked at you with that same curious glance.

Fuck it. What do you have to lose... besides everything... "Actually, I- um. There's something I want to tell you both..."

You could practically feel the blood pumping through your veins, your hands shaking violently under the table. Your heart felt like it might burst from how fast it was beating. It's now or never...

"Okay?" Your parents exchanged curious glances, the two of them wondering what could possibly be so important to have you acting so oddly.

Fuck. Where to start? What to say? Your mind was reeling. Everything felt like it was too much. But you had to do this, you couldn't avoid it forever.

You took a deep breath in an attempt to calm your nerves, but that didn't stop the words from rushing out of your mouth, "Jenna and I are dating. We've been in a relationship for two years now."

The room was dead silent. The only noise coming from the rain outside and the air conditioner quietly whirring in the background.

Both you and Jenna were eyeing your parents, waiting for some kind of reaction.

"What?"

Both your parents wore blank expressions. You almost wished they weren't, that they'd have some kind of emotion on their face, that way you could tell if they were upset or not. But a blank face was debatably better than an angry one.

"I'm dating Jenna." You said it again, not nearly as fast this time and with a little more confidence.

More silence. It hung in the air like a thick smog, suffocating you as it squeezed the breath from your lungs. The longer you had to wait the less you could sit still, nearly shaking in your chair out of anticipation.

"Is this a joke?" Your mom’s voice held a dangerous tone, one you'd learned meant trouble over the years.

"No." You made sure to keep your voice flat, hiding how you truly felt inside.

You knew what was coming. Despite your hopes that they might actually care, that they might actually love you, you knew the truth. Your parents would never accept someone like you as their daughter. You would've been better off if you'd told them you were a murderer.

"Get out." Your mother refused to meet your eyes, staring down at her plate instead. She had said it quietly and calmly, but you could see past that cool exterior, you could see the storm raging inside. She was furious.

"What?" Jenna spoke up, looking between your mother and father.

She couldn’t believe it. Your parents had always been so welcoming, so warm to her. You had always acted like such a happy family, and she was just going to kick you out?

Your mom’s eyes snapped up, glaring daggers at Jenna, "I said. Get. Out."

You could feel the tension in the air, thick as it filled up the room. Time to go.

"Come on, Jenna." You stood up, hoping you could pull Jenna from the house before things got too ugly, "If they don't love me for me, that's fine."

You noticed your father wince at the comment, his gaze dropping to the ground. Part of you wondered if he shared your mother's beliefs, if he hated you as well. He has always been the more levelheaded one, maybe there was hope for him.

"No." Jenna stood up, her eyes were still trained on your mother with a fury like you'd never seen before.

"Jenna, don't." You tried to stop her, but you could tell from the determined look on her face she didn't care.

"Are you really that shallow? You'll shun your daughter completely, all because of who she loves?"

"I'll not have a daughter who's a-"

"Who's a what? Say it," Jenna was challenging her now, daring her to say that forbidden word.

"You're a disgrace, you know that?" Your moms’ eyes darted over to you, "It's a sin and you're going to hell."

You scoffed, trying to act strong despite the tears in your eyes and the ache in your chest, "that’s fine, as long as I don't have to hear your bigoted comments for the rest of eternity."

Your mom shot up from the table, her chair sliding backward across the tile. Despite the look of rage, her eyes were watering as well, "How could you do this to me? To us?!"

"Do this to you...? Do you really think I started dating her because I wanted to hurt you?" Your vision was blurred from the tears silently streaming down your face. Your hands clenched as you tried to bottle up your rampant emotions. Everything was going to shit.

"Are you? Because from here, that's exactly what it looks like-"

"No! I would never try and hurt you. You told me to find someone that makes me happy, she makes me happy!"

"I said go find a nice boy to make you happy! Not to go practice sacrilege!”

"Are you insane? Do you even hear yourself?" Jenna jumped in, standing in front of you protectively.

You pulled Jenna back beside you, taking a step closer to your mother, "Let me spell it out for you. I'm bisexual. It's not something I can choose. It's who I am, it's in my DNA. I love Jenna and that's not changing any time soon. And I love you, you’re my mom, you raised me and cared for me, and taught me everything I know. But a real mother wouldn't disown me for being me."

It all happened so fast. Before you even knew what was happening you were on the floor, a red handprint staining your cheek.

You were in shock. Your hand cupping the forming red mark. She slapped you. She actually slapped you...

When you finally focused back on the situation, Jenna was kneeling in front of you. Her eyes were swimming with so many different emotions, but you couldn't miss her little concerned pout. You melted into her hands, how they cupped your face so gently as she examined the mark.

At the flip of a switch, her face contorted. What once was full of worry and concern had been taken over by hate and rage. It scared you.

Jenna spun around, wildly flinging insults at your mother. A shouting match had started, but you weren’t listening. All you could see was the image of your mother slapping you, repeating in your head over and over. Her face was full of so much hate and anger. How could someone who was supposed to love you do something so horrid?

You stood up, shaking off the shock and your spiraling thoughts.

“We’re leaving.” You stated simply, interrupting their screaming. You grabbed Jenna’s hand, lacing your fingers together as you pulled her towards the door with you.

You stood in the doorway, a nagging feeling sitting in the pit of your gut. You had more you wanted to say, but should you? Your mother made it more than clear she wasn’t willing to listen, that she was more than fine abandoning you.

You pushed yourself out the door without another word, walking through the rain. You handed Jenna the car keys, silently asking her to drive home. She took them without saying anything, understanding what you were asking.

Neither you nor Jenna said anything as you got into the car, the two of you still comprehending the nightmare that had just happened.

"Please take me home," you asked softly, ignoring the tears falling down your face.

You had been in the shower for over an hour now. It wasn’t abnormal for you to take long showers, but never this long. Jenna was worried.

The warm water had long since turned cold, leaving you shivering on the tile floor. Your head was buried in your arms, your knees pulled up to your chest. The sound of the water running effectively drowning out the sounds of your sobs.

You were heartbroken.

Your whole life there was this belief that your family would love you no matter what, that they would accept you for who you were. It’s still true, but after the scene at your parent’s house… your idea of family had been fundamentally shifted. Your parents weren’t your family anymore.

There was a knock on the bathroom door, “You alright in there, baby?” Jenna’s voice echoed throughout the bathroom.

You took a deep breath, trying to stop the crying, “Fine. I’ll be out in a minute.”

Your voice came out shaky and hoarse. Jenna could tell you’d been crying from the other side of the door; if your voice hadn’t given it away the sound of you sobbing when she opened the door would have been.

Jenna wanted nothing more than to hug you tight, kiss your forehead and wipe away the tears. But she knew you needed some space. She closed the bathroom door and waited back on your bed, her patience wearing thin as worry settled in.

The minute you were out of the shower and done changing, you could see it. You looked like a mess. Bloodshot eyes stared back at you in the mirror. Your nose and cheeks were red from all the crying. Your chest ached and your throat felt like it was on fire.

The second you were out of the bathroom Jenna was already staring at you. The way you looked so hurt, eyes bloodshot and shoulders slumped, it broke her heart. You deserved better.

You didn’t say anything, just walking up to her silently and falling into her arms. You were fresh out of tears, with nothing left to give. You just wanted the pain to go away.

Jenna pulled you onto the bed with her, letting you cuddle up into her arms. It wasn’t long before you were asleep, the exhaustion from the day having worn you out. Jenna held you a little bit tighter against her chest before falling asleep herself. She silently hoped that you knew, even if your parents didn’t, she loved you more than she would ever be able to articulate.

#jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #void-wolfie

[blacksapphhicmaddonna]

HAPPY PRIDE MONTH, ALPHABET MAFIA

just a few reminders:

- first pride was a riot

- black & BIPOC queer people are the foundation of our entire nation and the global culture

- we owe most of our rights and progress to BIPOC trans women/femmes and different communities of lesbians, trans/gnc folks and elders.

- trans people have always existed, they are ancient and indigenous to many cultures and places and are SACRED.

- I’m glad you’re here and there is community out there for you, waiting with open arms. Don’t give up just yet, please.

- rainbow capitalism isn’t liberation

- we are all we have, be fucking better to each other

- lesbians have done so much for lgbtqia+ people and should maybe idk stop being erased for no reason

- biphobia is real and just bc your ex cheated on you doesn’t make it bi folks fault, you’re projecting babe

- being queer doesn’t dissolve white privilege, pls touch grass

- be safe at pride. they’re coming for us all and we need to protect ourselves.

- not everyone wants to use the word queer/dyke/fag etc. I’m glad you reclaimed the slurs used against you, me too, but not everyone wants to and you need to respect that. LGBTQIA+* exists for a reason.

- the black and brown belong on the flag.

- the A is for asexual/romantic or agender, not ally.

- get some pussy (or whatever you do (or don’t do)) and make space for joy! because black/queer joy is revolutionary and fucking righteous just as much as our anger is, too

- Juneteenth coming up too, issa parade in my city fr

- asexuals/aromantics belong at pride. Period. Full stop.

- safe sex is the best sex

- get tested!

- it’s okay to not watch the news. america is hell, go take a nap

- people 100% know themselves better than you ever will, people are who they say they are and you don’t get to decide that for them. respect pronouns, identity, etc. or argue w ya mama/god/someone else cause it ain’t finna be me ❤️

- you deserve relationships that feel safe and actually are safe. Don’t settle.

- learn your queer history. they won’t teach us. they took our elders from us.

- Black LGBTQIA+* history IS Black History.

- we all need to be thankful to the house mothers and the ballroom scene and those who gave us what we have now, regardless of who you are.

- don’t call yourself a stud if you’re not BLACK. wit a capital B and at least one BLACK parent.

- not everyone is out. happiest of pride month to y’all. you’re still gang and we love you just as much. 💗

- our collective liberation lies in the fact that we are all tied to each other. if you’re down for the gays but not the theys, you’re not as decolonized as you think you are.

- shout out to fanfiction writers who have been single-handedly providing queer art/content/representation for years while the industry continues to make a mockery of us or intentionally leave us out. one thing we gonna do is help someone find their queer awakening, and get that story right. love us 🤪 go team

- your life means something. it’s important beyond comprehension. you look good. your ass is fat (if you want it to be). get the mullet as a lil treat.

- LGBTQIA+* people across the board have ALWAYS existed in literally every culture and every continent (and Antarctica counts if you count the cute lil gay penguins😌). Don’t let them tell you different. We are not a “mInOrItY”, we have been MINORITIZED. we are not small, we are great and mighty and have ALWAYS been here. And we always will. We exist in the future just as we have existed in the past. We stand on the shoulders of MASSIVE collective ancestors. If that’s not an indication to keep going, keep fighting, keep laughing, dancing, voguing, and keep showing up authentically - then I don’t know what is.

- it’s gonna be ok baby. pinkie promise.

#pride month #pri DEMON th #black sapphic #sapphic #nonbinary #gang fr #rainbow shit #alphabet mafia #gay shit boutta ensue fr #they/thems assemble #munch szn #pansexual ig

[leikeliscomet]

The reason I feel disconnected from the term alloace and its tag is bc it's just not specific enough and bc of that a lot of commentary on alloaces falls flat to me. The specific gender(s) you have romantic attraction for greatly determine what type of experience you will have. There are so many straight ace experiences I can't relate to. Can you safely express romantic attraction in public? Are depictions of your romantic attraction banned in books and TV/film? Then there's race too. When your race is sexualised and your asexuality is denied, how can you then express romantic attraction freely? When your race is simultaneously desexualised, are you even allowed conventional romance to begin with? When you are seen as a sexual being against your will how can you decentre sexual attraction when no one has ever believed you?

Aroallo on the other hand is used to describe the collective experience of aromanticism without asexuality so there's a consistent community for that that's grown but go to alloace and its less active and a series of random posts, not really 'collective community' stuff. Most alloace content isn't called alloace like aroallo content is called aroallo, but just asexual. There's many ace posts that would fit the label but aren't under the tag. Not sure why but I don't think it's that deep. A lot alloace posts aren't even about alloaces specifically, they're posts about arospec experiences either comparing alloaces implying there's a type of privilege or actively blaming us for arospec erasure. The erasure is real and their anger is justified but again it's assumed under the banner of alloace that having romantic attraction automatically guarantees a certain experience when it doesn't, historically or systemically. The most visible alloaces are predominantly white and cishet. The 'allo asexuality' they have is one a lot of alloaces are actively denied and so we actually have more in common with arospecs bc we both have relationship models and exploration of romance that goes against what is societally expected of us. I relate to Black arospecs bc we share the history of how Black people are sexualised and desexualised. I relate to lesbian arospecs bc our attraction to women is unconventional, experiencing 'half' and not the other.

I'm then left scratching my head being asked to use the privilege I don't have and use the visibility I don't get. Does the aspec community ask aspecs to stand with gay, bi, pan and lesbian aces? Do they make posts on how biphobia and acephobia overlap to protect bi aces? Do they ask aspecs to learn the history of how gay romantic lit was censored? Do they ask aspecs to support alloace victims/survivors with the sexual violence they experience from non-ace partners? Do they ask aspecs to unpack compulsory sexuality? Do they do the community support they wish to see themselves?

So yeah, I'm frustrated. With other parts if my identity and if I don't see certain posts about it I'd be like 'well stop complaining and be the one to say something then'. I could do up 'allo aces are valid' content but again, who would I be referring to? Would anyone care? Is it even possible to make a catchall post that fits the whole experience? It's looking like no. Again I need this community to start to looking outside the scope of their own personal aspec experience cus community is in the name but it doesn't feel like it.

#alloace #alloromantic asexual #alloaro #asexuality #aromanticism #asexual #aromantic #aspec community #black asexual #ace lesbian #asexual lesbian #black asexuals #venting bout ace stuff again

[lesbian-polls]

Wait sorry, what’s wrong with m-spec lesbians? I thought that was what lots of butches were? 😭 sorry I’m from a conservative area + wasn’t allowed internet until I left home so I haven’t had much interaction with the queer community

Since you ask in good faith I'll give you a good faith answer.

M-spec doesn't mean "masculine presenting" it means your attraction is in the masculine spectrum of the gender spectrum, so men and male aligned-NB people (non-binary is not a third gender, it's a collection of every gender that I'd neither 100% woman or 100% man)

Butches tend to present masculine, this doesn't make them men.

A lesbian is a woman or woman-aligned NB person who is attracted to the same gender. That is, other women and woman aligned NB people.

The problem with m-spec and bi "lesbians" is that they're not lesbians at all, they're bi or pan people most of the time who are attracted to men but try to usurp the lesbian label and turn it into a synonym for sapphic or woman-loving-woman.

Lesbianism is the only sexuality that excludes men, both as targets of attraction and emitters of that attraction. Therefore we are being shamed into being attracted to men by this group of people. Hell, they even try to take the reclaimed d-slur.

It's an act of lesbophobia, homophobia (two different kinds of oppression btw) biphobia (bi and pan people have a history of fighting for their own label and protested against being called gays or lesbians) and transphobia since many of m-spec 'lesbians' and their supporters are trans men who claim they have a connection to womanhood by having the "right parts" which isn't true in the slightest and also hurts trans women, many of whom are lesbians as well.

Even misogyny, since m-spec and bi 'lesbians' can't stand the fact that we don't need men in our lives and that bothers them since in their mind everyone needs to center men in their lives.

Would you see gay men being told to include women in their sexuality? No, right? It's the misogyny as well.

Most bi 'lesbians' and their supporters also happen to be white, shielding themselves with their privilege.

To sum it up: m-spec 'lesbians' aren't butches or lesbians at all, they're bi and pan people who disregard their own history and struggle to try and steal our label from us, inspired by homophobia, biphobia, lesbophobia, misogyny and transphobia. They'll call us TERFs (many of us are trans women mind you) while employing TERF points themselves like with the trans man argument.

If you have more questions feel free to DM me. And, if you are not a lesbian please don't vote in the polls since they're for lesbians only. I made this blog as a safe space for lesbians due to our safe spaces on this accursed website being eroded (if you say you're a bi lesbian in a lesbian bar they'll laugh at you since this is online-only problem) and I'd like to keep it that way

EDIT:

This user is right, I got the two mixed up. M-spec is multi-spectrum

#lesbian #lesbianism #lesbian safe #lesbian positivity #anon #'bi lesbian' #anti bi lesbian #anti mspec lesbian #lesbophobia

[positively-bi]

It ain't over til the bisexual speaks...

The March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay, and Bisexual Equal Rights and Liberation took place on the 25th of April 1993 in Washington, D.C. An estimated 80,000 to over 1 million people attended.

The 1993 March was the first March on Washington to include bisexuals in the title. Out of 18 chosen speakers, only one was bisexual: Lani Ka'ahumanu.

Afterwards, she wrote an article for bisexual magazine Anything That Moves about her experience entitled "How I Spent My Two Week Vacation Being a Token Bisexual", which can be read on her website here.

The webpage also contains a transcript of the speech she made at the event, which has been copied below the cut:

Aloha, my name is Lani Ka’ahumanu, and it ain’t over til the bisexual speaks...

I am a token, and a symbol. Today there is no difference. I am the token out bisexual asked to speak, and I am a symbol of how powerful the bisexual pride movement is and how far we have come.

I came here in 1979 for the March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights.

I returned in 1987 for the March on Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights.

I stand here today on the stage of the 1993 March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay and Bisexual Equal Rights and Liberation.

In 1987 I wrote an article on bisexuality for the Civil Disobedience Handbook titled, “Are we visible yet?”

Bisexual activists organized on the local, regional and national levels to make this March a reality.

Are bisexuals visible yet? Are bisexuals organized yet? Are bisexuals accountable yet?

You bet your sweet ass we are!

Bisexuals are here, and we’re queer.

Bisexual pride speaks to the truth of behavior and identity.

No simple either/or divisions fluid – ambiguous – subversive bisexual pride challenges both the heterosexual and the homosexual assumption.

Society is based on the denial of diversity, on the denial of complexity.

Like multiculturalism, mixed heritage and bi-racial relationships, both the bisexual and transgender movements expose and politicize the middle ground.

Each show there is no separation, that each and everyone of us is part of a fluid social, sexual and gender dynamic.

Each signals a change, a fundamental change in the way our society is organized.

Remember today.

Remember we are family, and like a large extended family, we don’t always agree, don’t always see eye to eye.

However, as a family under attack we must recognize the importance of what each and every one of us brings to our movement.

There is strength in our numbers and diversity. We are every race, class, culture, age, ability, religion, gender identity and sexual orientation.

Our visibility is a sign of revolt.

Recognition of bisexual orientation and transgender issues presents a challenge to assumptions not previously explored within the politics of gay liberation.

What will it take for the gayristocracy to realize that bisexual, lesbian, transgender, and gay people are in this together, and together we can and will move the agenda forward.

But this will not happen until public recognition of our common issues is made, and a sincere effort to confront biphobia and transphobia is made by the established gay and lesbian leadership in this country.

The broader movement for our civil rights and liberation is being held back.

Who gains when we ostracize whole parts of our family? Who gains from exclusionary politics?

Certainly not us...

Being treated as if I am less oppressed than thou is not only insulting, it feeds right in to the hands of the right wing fundamentalists who see all of us as queer.

What is the difficulty in seeing how my struggle as a mixed race bisexual woman of color is intimately related to the bigger struggle for lesbian and gay rights the rights of people of color and the rights of all women?

What is the problem?

This is not a competition.

I will not play by rules that pit me against any oppressed group.

Has the gayristocracy bought so far in to the either/or structure, invested so much in being the opposite of heterosexual that they cannot remove themselves that they can’t imagine being free of the whole oppressive heterosexist system that keeps us all down?

Bisexual, gay, lesbian, and transgender people who are out of the closet, who are not passing for anything other than who and what we are all have our necks and our lives on the line.

All our visibility is a sign of revolt.

Bisexuals are here to challenge the bigots who have denied lesbian, gay and bisexual people basic civil rights in Colorado.

Yes, Amendment 2 includes bisexual orientation.

Yes, the religious right recognizes bisexuals as a threat to “so called” family values.

Bisexuals are here to protest the military ban against lesbians, gays and bisexuals.

Yes, the Department of Defense defines bisexuals separately as a reason to be dishonorably discharged.

And yes, out bisexuals are not allowed to be foster or adoptive parents,

And yes, we lose our jobs, our children, get beaten and killed for loving women and for loving men.

Bisexuals are queer, just as queer as queer can be.

Each of us here today represents many people who could not make the trip.

Our civil rights and liberation movement has reached critical mass.

Remember today.

Remember that we are more powerful than all the hate, ignorance and violence directed at us.

Remember what a profound difference our visibility makes upon the world in which we live.

The momentum of this day can carry us well into the 21st century if we come out where ever and when ever we can.

Remember assimilation is a lie. It is spiritual erasure.

I want to challenge those lesbian and gay leaders who have come out to me privately over the years as bisexual to take the next step, come out now.

What is the sexual liberation movement about if not about the freedom to love whom we choose?

I want to encourage bisexuals in the lesbian, gay and heterosexual communities to come out now.

Remember there is nothing wrong with love. Defend the freedom to express it.

Our visibility is a sign of revolt. We cannot be stopped. We are everywhere. We are bisexual, lesbian, gay and transgender people.

We will not rest until we are all free;

We will not rest until our basic human rights are protected under federal law;

We will not rest until our relationships and families are not just tolerated but recognized, respected and valued;

We will not rest until we have a national health care system; We will not rest until there are cures for AIDS and cancer.

We deserve nothing less. Remember we have every right to be in the world exactly as we are.

Celebrate that simply and fiercely.

I love you.

Mahalo and aloha.

#bi history #queer history #lgbt history #lgbt+ history #lani ka'ahumanu #1993 march on washington #bi rights #queer rights #lgbt rights #lgbt+ rights #bi #bisexual #bisexuality #bi pride #bisexual pride #pride #lgbt #lgbt+ #lgbtq #lgbt pride #lgbt+ pride #lgbtq pride #queer #queer pride #bisexual history

[rongzhi]

Hi Wawa! I'm curious about a trend in some of the douyins you've posted. It seems like the "punchline" of a lot of them is boys being romantic with each other (like ending up accidentally holding hands or staring into each other's eyes). Sometimes it seems like the script is supposed to be explicitly queer (like that series with the boss and his employee who have the silent conversations). I'm queer and I really like these douyins because I think they're funny and they don't come off as mean-spirited, but I was curious about the cultural context considering China's legal stance on lgbtq+ stuff. Thank you in advance if you can provide some insight!

Well first of all, you have to remember

the internet is more queer friendly than real life

the douyins you see are going to contain a bias from me, the person who is choosing them/reposting them with translations. I am not going to post douyins where being queer is the punchline because that would be absurd and hurtful. I'm only going to post douyins where the queer plot point is unrelated to the actual punchline. For example, in the 双面笑笑 douyins you mentioned, the joke there is supposed to be that workplace dynamic is inappropriate and exploitative, and the 'romance' always has to do with the boss trying to get the employee to work more (which the employee gets suckered into doing).

I answered a similar ask once before, and I stand by what I said there, with the additional emphasis on the fact that there is only so much cultural context I can offer considering I don't live in China.

To add onto it, I would be to stress that it's really a complex and multi-faceted issue on the ground/beyond just government policies or whatever. There is a diverse IRL queer experience in China, just as there is, for example, in the U.S. Depending on where you live and your socioeconomic status, you are going to be more or less burdened by your identity, and it seems (to me, as an observer who doesn’t live in China) that there’s sort of that simultaneous thing of there being continued prejudice at the same time that there is a sense of liberation due to the prevalence of LGBT rep globally/abroad.

↳ For example, I see an argument being made a lot of against gay men marrying/having children with straight women; online, straight and queer people alike will condemn this due to the fact that it is, objectively, unfair to straight women. What I find a bit mysterious is the argument that the gay men feeling pressured into the marriage/family pipeline are doing so out of pure selfishness, and that they should just 'be themselves', as if there isn't HUGE societal pressure in China to get married and have children. Similarly, there seems to be much derision amongst lesbians toward Ts (butch lesbians, approximately) who marry straight men and have children, I'm guessing because they're "visibly queer", although this gets iffy because not all tomboys/masc girls are Ts (i.e, lesbians), but lesbians will naturally feel tricked/betrayed when a masc girl 'profits' (directly/by creating lesbian aesthetics or through being ambiguous/private about their real sexuality) off being appealing to lesbians because she looks like a T, and then turns around and gets married to a guy (and of course, now we get into the subject of bisexuality/bi-erasure/biphobia :S). But I seriously digress.

As for douyin and depicting the queer, there is also some level of what I can best describe as shipping/fujoshi/skinship culture at play? I know tumblr likes to look down on that sort of thing, either as cringe or problematic, but it's quite normal for douyin users to ship IRL douyin users, no matter if m/m, f/f, m/f, etc. (The distinction to note here I guess is that it's quite lighthearted shipping. Sort of like spectating, I guess? Typically people don't read that deeply into it, they just will comment that they ship something if they think there's chemistry there or it'd be cute. There's also a pretty normal phenomenon of fans commenting 'can I ship this?' toward accounts, who generally agree/don't care/reply ambiguously, which is seen as passive approval).

The rise of danmei has helped promote queerness and legitimise/normalise it, but it has also aestheticised it to some degree. It's a similar phenomenon that you see in Western media representation, I feel like. Anecdotally, I've read many a douyin comment section of queer people lamenting that there are straight people using queerness and queer stories and aesthetic to profit, giving nothing back to the actual queer community or to the advancement of queer liberation; again, this is similar to what you can find in the west.

CONCLUSION:

I think I'm starting to lose the plot on this answer a little, so I'll just stop here. Just know that the landscape of queer content on douyin/the Chinese internet is vast and multifaceted, and the queer Chinese community/culture is not going to directly translate to western LGBT™ school of thought/discourse/expectations, though the nature of globalisation is that western discourse has naturally dictated a good portion of LGBT understanding worldwide.

With regards to douyin/Chinese internet depiction of queer "rep", some of it is mean-spirited or at very least, not intentionally mean but still off-putting, either by my personal standards and/or by western (popular discourse?) standards. I just don't post that content because I don't find it worth sharing.

#text #answered ask #long post #will i try to answer the question? yes. will i ramble about other things and potentially forget what i'm supposed to be addressing? yes. #ummm also others feels free to agree or disagree here since i'm literally just talking out my ass. these are just my opinions&observations

[leossmoonn]

Girl Crush

masterlist

pairing - steve harrington x fem!reader, robin buckley x fem!reader

type - angst, fluff

note - enjoy this monstrosity I typed up.

summary - while dating steve, you managed to develop a crush on robin

warnings / includes - mild language, little suggestive, underage drinking (although you all are 18+), food consumption, cheating, kissing, fighting, mentions of biphobia, little bit of body image issues. sorry for all my steve lovers <3

————

*gif isn’t mine*

She’s perfect, Robin thinks. Her eyes follow you as you throw a stick for your dog to catch. She’s mesmerized by you: your laugh, smile, the way you seem to float while walking or running. She can’t tear her eyes away.

But she’s forced to, especially when Steve sits down next to her. She lets out a little sigh, averting her eyes away from you and looking down at her lap. It’s probably for the best, she figures. She doesn’t want you thinking she’s a creep.

"I have your lemonade!" Steve shouts at you. "Okay!" you grin. You throw the stick for your dog to catch, jogging over to Steve. "Thanks, Stevie."

"No problem, honey," he smiles, leaning over and pecking your lips.

Robin gags at the two of you, but not for the reasons you both think.

"Someone a little jealous?" Steve smirks. "In your dreams. Any sane girl would run away from you. Uh, n-no offense, Y/n," Robin stammers.

"None taken. I guess that just makes me crazy," you giggle. You put your hand on Steve's chest and kiss him more, leaning into him as he slips his hand around your waist. 

Robin keeps her eyes down, heart sinking into her chest as you basically crush her dreams in five seconds. 

“Hey, Robin, do you want to play ultimate frisbee?” you ask her. 

She looks up at you, checking you out swiftly. You’re wearing a pair of high-waisted denim shorts and a Fleetwood Mac t-shirt that’s tucked into your jeans. Red sunglasses cover your eyes from the bright sun, and your hair is up and out of your face. Your skin is glowing from sweat and sunscreen. Long story short, you look like an angel. 

“Oh, you don’t want me to play sports,” Robin chuckles. “Aw, c’mon,” you pout. “It’ll be fun! Plus, you can’t be worse than Steve.”

“Hey! I’m good at ultimate frisbee!” Steve exclaims. “Yeah, okay, babe,” you pat his chest. You turn back to Robin and hold out your hand, lowering your head and causing your sunglasses to slip down the bridge of your nose. Between your smile and your captivating eyes, Robin couldn’t deny you. She never would be able to. She’s embarrassingly whipped. 

“Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Robin sighs. She slips her hand into yours and pulls herself up. She’s just a little taller than you from standing on the bottom step of the deck. Her heartbeat fills her ears as she realizes how close she is to you. Her knees almost buckle at your smirk. 

“Me and you against Steve and Leo?” you suggest. “Y-Yeah, sure. Girls against boys. Woo, go feminism!” Robin pumps her free fist in the air. 

She’s surprised that she makes you laugh, but she enjoys the sound. 

“You’re hilarious, Buck.” you lightly punch her shoulder. “More like a dork,” Steve snorts. 

Robin rolls her eyes at Steve. “At least I don't sing every song from Grease.”

“It’s a great musical, okay? I love Danny’s hair,” Steve explains himself. “Yeah, we know. He’s like, your hair idol,” Robin snorts.

“Okay, kids, play nice!” you grab the frisbee and walk to stand next to Robin.

“Sorry. He’s so annoying sometimes,” Robin mutters. “It’s okay, he can be grouchy sometimes,” you shrug. 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Robin mutters. “And stop saying sorry. You should have nothing to be sorry for,” you say. 

Robin stares at you with wide eyes. “Okay. Sorry. Oh, shit. Sorry. I mean —”

“Starting now,” you chuckle. Robin lets out a breathy laugh and nods. “Right. Um, thanks.”

“Thank me later when we win,” you wink. Robin’s heart flutters and her throat becomes dry, both from you and the heat. “I-I definitely will.” 

A couple of days later, Robin sees you again while she’s at work.

“Oh, hey, Y/n. Steve isn’t in today,” Robin greets you.

“I know. He’s hanging out with Dustin,” you say.

“Oh. What’re you doing here, then? Do you, um, need a movie to watch?” Robin asks.

You smile, “no, I’m here to see you, silly.” Robin audibly gasps. “M-Me? Um, why?”

“Don’t act all surprised! We’re friends, right?”

Robin gulps harshly and nods. “Yeah, yeah. We are.”

“Glad you agree!” you prance up to the front counter and rest your elbows on it, leaning forward to talk to Robin. You’re so close to her, she can smell the bubblegum that you’re chewing. It takes everything in her to not lean in further.

“So, I was wondering if you’re free this Friday,” you say.

“I should be. Why?” she asks. “Well, Steve’s 20th is coming up and I was hoping you’d be open to helping me plan,” you explain.

If Robin was drinking something, she would have spit it out. Instead, her stomach drops to the floor and she becomes nervous again — as if she’s not always nervous in your presence.

“I know I don’t know you too well, so planning parties might not be your thing, but I don’t want to do it myself. And I can’t ask Max because I don’t want to stress her out more after everything with Vecna, and Nancy and I aren’t exactly on the best terms, so —”

“Yes!” Robin shouts, a little too loud for her liking. Your eyes widen and your lips upturn into a satisfied smile. “Great! I love your enthusiasm, by the way.”

“U-um, thank you. Anyways, yeah, I would love to plan his party. Nothing like his best friend and, uh, girlfriend planning it, right?” Robin laughs shyly.

“Exactly what I was thinking!” you nod excitedly. “So, whenever you’re off work today, can you call me when you’re free so we can start planning and setting up decorations and stuff?”

“Yeah, sure,” Robin replies. “Groovy!” you laugh. You immediately face palm, heat rising up your neck. “I mean, awesome. I’m sorry. I’m hanging out with my dad too much.”

Now it’s Robin’s turn to act all confident and tease you a little bit. She thinks it’s so cute when you get all embarrassed and duck your head down. You’re never like this. You’re always so sure of yourself, but you’re also human and there are times when you slip up. Robin always finds herself enjoying those times the most. She thinks that she’s seeing the real you, behind the mom act you put on for the kids.

“It’s cool you hang out with your dad,” Robin says.

Your eyes light up. “You think so?” Robin nods, “totally. Being with family is nice.”

Something shifts in the air between you two. You both can feel it. Both of your hearts race as you stare into each other’s eyes. You both can’t seem to avert your gazes this time.

Usually, you’ve got your staring at Robin under control. You usually give her glances or take your chance to gaze when she’s talking, which is the most natural and discreet way to admire her. It’s not like you like her. You just thought that she was pretty. And to be fair, her outfits are always super cute. Plus, you have a boyfriend, Steve, whom you love very much and have plans to marry someday.

You are the first one to break out of your daze. You take a couple of steps back, needing fresh air. All you can smell is Robin’s scent, and it’s driving you crazy.

“So, call me, yeah?” you ask. “Yeah, of course. See you, Y/n,” Robin gives you a shy wave.

You flash a friendly smile. “Bye, Buck.”

The next couple of days are the hardest for you two. It’s more difficult than anything you’ve had to endure, and you both managed to escape the supernatural last year.

Robin’s feelings for your only grew stronger. Her heart feels like it’s about to explode if she doesn’t tell you, but to keep her friendships — especially yours — she holds her tongue.

As for you, it’a nothing out of the ordinary. Except when you two take breaks and chill on the couch listening to music.

When you’re decorating, you’re able to distract yourself and think about Steve. You always have a smile on your face, thinking about Steve’s reaction and how big his eyes are going to be, and how bright his smile will shine. But when you’re across from Robin, able to smell her shampoo and trace every feature on her face, Steve suddenly goes away. It’s as if he never exists, honestly. But you keep reminding yourself that he does and that you don’t like Robin.

Even if you did like Robin, what could you do about it? Who would ever believe you if you say that you like both guys and girls? You’re positive your sexuality hasn’t been excepted yet.

You also don’t know if Robin likes you or not. The signs are there, but Robin has always been an awkward person. You figure that she usually acts like this, and she does, but in the back of your mind, you know she behaves just a tad bit different around you.

“The place looks great,” Robin comments as she looks at all the decorations. “Steve is going to be pleasantly surprised.”

“Thank you. And I couldn’t have done this without you. Who knew decorating for a birthday party was actually a two-person job?” You chuckle.

“Always here to help,” Robin smiles.

You hum in reply, slowly tearing your eyes away from hers and looking down at your hands. You fidget with your thumbs, pushing back the aching feeling in your chest. You tell yourself it’s because you miss Steve, but you know that’s not true.

“So, um, you’re a year younger than Steve?” Robin asks.

“Yep,” you nod. “Crazy how he’s already 20. I remember knowing him when we were 10.”

Robin’s brows raise. “Woah, seriously? What was he like? You have to tell me all of his dirty secrets now.”

You giggle, “I don’t remember much, honestly. But I do know that 10-year-old Steve was sweet and kind and a people pleaser. It wasn’t until high school when he became the jackass we’ve all grown to know and love.”

“He’s not so much anymore. Probably because he’s with you,” Robin smiles.

“True, and thank you, but a lot of things have happened to make him change.”

Robin nods in agreement. “So, when did you two start dating?”

“Um, end of our senior” you answer.

“How come you guys didn’t date before?”

“Are you kidding? I mean, you know how bad Steve was. No offense to him at all. He was my best friend, but I knew his type, and I wasn’t about to get myself heart broken. I was just waiting for the right time, and when it showed up, I took my opportunity. Now here I am,” you smile dreamily.

You remember the first time you tell Steve you like him. It was the most nerve-racking thing you’ve ever done, but you’re thankful you did it. Turns out, Steve had liked you all along but never felt good enough for you. But everything seemed to like up and you two were able to get together. Funny how things work.

Robin can’t look away from you, even though it shatters her heart. You look so happy just thinking about Steve, she can’t imagine how happy you are when you’re with him.

Well, actually, she can, and it devastates her. She attempts to ignore her feelings for you, push them away and keep them locked up forever. Who is she to ruin a perfect relationship? Plus, you don’t even like girls. It’s a lose-lose situation.

Harrington 2, Buckley 0, Robin remarks to herself.

“I’m sorry,” you laugh. “I can get a little um… carried away thinking about Steve.”

“Oh, don’t apologize. He’s a great guy. I-I would too, if I was, uh, with him.” Robin cringes at her words, hoping you don’t take them wrong. Luckily, you don’t. You know Robin doesn’t like Steve any more than a friend.

“I’m a lucky girl,” you grin. “What about you, Buck? Meet any nice people in Hawkins?”

Robin’s cheeks dust pink. She ducks her head down so you can’t see, but you very much still can.

“Uh, no. No one here interests me,” she answers.

“Understandable. Everyone here is either old enough to be our parents, or is still in that asshole phase from high school,” you sigh.

“Maybe they need a supernatural experience to change them,” Robin chuckles. You laugh with her. “That’ll do the trick.”

Silence falls over you two. You lean against the back of your couch, closing your eyes to rest.

“A-Are you tired? We can stop for today if you need a nap,” Robin suggests.

“Hmm, that sounds tempting,” you say. “I still have to wrap Steve’s gifts, though. I don’t want to do that on the day of the party.”

“Right,” Robin nods. “How about you take a nap, and I can wrap them?”

You open your eyes and look at her. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she smiles softly. “Consider it a thank you for being my friend.” She curses herself in her head for how cheesy she sounds, but it’s true.

You smile and lean over, placing your hand onto hers. “Don’t thank me. You’re awesome, Robin. If anything, I thank you for being my friend.”

Robin’s heart pounds and her body becomes warm from your touch. She can’t stop looking at your hand that’s placed on top of hers. Your skin is so soft and your hold is gentle but not weak.

“Consider us both lucky, then,” she breathes out. You nod, “good choice.”

You slip away, standing up and stretching. The top of your shirt rides up your back and Robin tries her hardest not to stare. She keeps her eyes trained on your carpet, waiting until you’re done to look at you.

You take a little too long to stretch, but not on accident. You can feel Robin’s stare burn your back, and you like it. You find yourself wanting her to reach out to you, to hold your hand again. As you drop your arm, guilt and shame fill you. What is wrong with me? you think. I have a boyfriend, for God’s sake.

“If you’re hungry, help yourself. I’ll see you later,” you say, flashing her a little smile before quickly walking to your room.

Robin sits dumbfounded. Is it just her or are you acting weird? Usually, you weren’t so detached. Robin worries if she said something wrong, but she can’t think of anything wrong that she said. Maybe you’re just tired, she hopes. 

Robin rummages through your supply closet and finds the wrapping paper. She finds your gifts on the kitchen table and gets to work.

You had bought Steve one gift and made him one yourself. The gift you bought him was a new pair of sneakers that he’s been wanting forever, but he hasn’t had the chance to shop for them yet. And the gift you made him was one of those car decorations you can hang on the review mirror. It was a little picture frame of you two. Steve’s arm was wrapped around you while you were kissing his cheek, huge smiles on both of your faces. In the back of the frame, you wrote “I love you always”.

This just made Robin feel even more stupid for having a crush on you.

She carefully puts the picture in a little box you had set aside for it. She wraps both of the presents to the best of her ability. She set them on top of each other on the kitchen table and got up to put her shoes on and get her jacket. She wants to stay, but she has no reason to. You’re asleep and it wasn’t her house to just do whatever in. Robin left your house with a heavy heart, hoping that whenever you woke up, you would call her.

When you wake up, you’re a little disappointed that Robin left. You hoped that she would stay and you two could hang out more, but you understood why she left.

You put on a pair of shorts and one of Steve’s shirts you had stolen. You walk into the kitchen, wanting to get yourself something to eat, but the flashing red light on your answering machine caught your attention. You play the two messages that were left. One is from Robin and another from Steve.

“Hey, it’s Robin. Um, I wrapped the gifts for you. I hope you like how I did it. If not, you can totally redo it yourself. I’m not a pro-wrapper or anything.”

Her words make you laugh. You sit on the couch and lean on the ledge to continue listening.

“Anyways, I’m calling because I think I left my wallet at your house. It’s blue with a picture of my mom and me in the front pocket. I’m not sure where I left it, but if you could find it that would be great. And if you don’t mind dropping it off for me at work tomorrow? Or you can just have Steve give it to me if that’s easier. Thanks for having me over again. See you later.”

You play Steve’s message while you’re looking for Robin’s wallet.

“Hey, honey, it’s Steve. I was wondering if you wanted to catch a movie tonight? Thanks to Max, I realize I have been a terrible boyfriend and haven’t taken you on a date in a while. If you listen to this before 6, I’d like to take you out at 7. How do dinner and a movie sound? Call me back and let me know if you want to. I love you!”

Your heart warms at his message. He’s right, you two haven’t been on a date in forever, but it wasn’t his fault entirely. The world was falling apart again, and you all had to be the ones saving it. But you’re overjoyed that he asked you out, anyways. You already made up your mind without hesitation.

You luckily find Robin’s wallet, deciding to give it to Steve when he picks you up tonight. You call Steve back and get ready for your date. Steve shows up at your door 30 minutes later with a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

“Oh, for me!” You gasp as you look at the flowers. “Mhm. Pretty flowers for a pretty lady,” he flashes you his charming smile.

“How did I get to lucky,” you hum contently. You walk outside of your house and close the door quickly so Steve doesn’t see the decorations. Of course, Steve is confused.

“Aren’t you gonna put the flowers in a vase?” He asks.

“Yes, I will later. But I just want to get this date on already!” You explain. You weren’t lying, per se, but you didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

Steve studies you, reading your eyes. There’s no sign of lying, so he pushes any suspicion aside.

“Good choice. Let’s go, shall we?” He asks.

You nod eagerly, wrapping your hands around his arm as you two walk to his car. You kiss him sweetly as he opens the door for you.

“So, what are we seeing?” You ask. “Well, I know you were super mad that you couldn’t see Footloose when it came out, so I decided to rent the movie,” he explains.

“Really?” You ask, your eyes lighting up in excitement. “Yep. But first, I’ll take you to dinner,” he says.

“Ah, Steve! You’re the best!” You lean over in your seat, grabbing his face gently and kissing him. He smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He cradles your neck, leaning into you and allowing him to deepen the kiss. You let out a breathy moan of his name as his other hand grasps your thigh. Electricity surges through your body and you become intoxicated by him. All you can smell and taste is him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You whine as he pulls away, need growing inside you.

“You’ll get what you want tonight,” he winks. “I better. I haven’t gotten any alone time with you is like, forever,” you chuckle.

“Don’t worry. Tonight we’ll do everything we haven’t gotten the chance to do the last couple of months.” He slips his hand into yours and kisses every one of your knuckles.

And just like that, any doubt or looming feeling of guilt disappears. You soon forget about your encounters and thoughts about Robin, Steve stealing your heart for the hundredth time.

But that didn’t last for long.

The next day, which is Steve’s birthday, you’re reminded by your confusing feelings for Robin.

“Hey, it’s Robin again. Thank you for having Steve return my wallet. I would have quite literally died without it. I’ll see you tonight. I’ll make sure to keep Steve in the dark!”

You sigh as her message finishes. A part of you feels happy that she called you, but another part of you feels dread.

Last night with Steve was amazing. He was right, you two did get to do everything you’ve missed out on. He rented Footloose, making a makeshift drive-in theatre in his backyard. He even made you your favorite dessert, reminding you of how much he loves you. And you two ended the night wrapped up in blankets, bodies molded into each other, lips never becoming detached. It was truly magical.

But then you woke up and you had to go home. You had to say goodbye to Steve and go back to being torn between two people.

It shouldn’t even be a question of who you like more. Steve makes you the happiest girl in the world. He makes you feel so special and he’s always giving his 101%. But then there’s Robin. And she’s different.

She makes you happy as well. You feel as though it’s a little easier being with her, whether that’s her being a girl, too, or not, you have no idea. But she makes you laugh and you find yourself always wanting to spend time with her. You won’t deny, that you felt sparks when you touched her hand yesterday, too.

It’s all just so confusing. You’ve never had to choose between two people before. But you decide that it’s normal to be attracted to other people, especially when they’re a new person and it can seem exciting. But your heart lies with Steve, and it always will.

You’re running around the house to prepare all the food for the party. The kids are already there helping you. All you’re waiting for now is Robin and Steve to walk through the door.

You’re sitting on the couch, flipping through a magazine anxiously. You’ve never been so nervous about something, not even when you were always on the verge of death last year. You didn’t know why, but you had a bad feeling about tonight.

“Hey, you okay?” Max asks, sensing your uneasiness. “Yeah,” you nod, not making eye contact with her.

“You’re obviously not,” Max rolls her eyes. “Don’t hide things, Y/n. You know how that turned out for me.”

“Hey, don’t say that,” you frown. She shrugs with a smile. “It’s my trauma. I can joke about it.”

You sigh, “I suppose so.” “What’s got you beat?” Max pushes. 

“I can’t tell you,” you shake your head. “I tell you everything about my life,” Max says. 

“True, but this is very complicated, Max.”

“Try me.”

You close your magazine and lay your head on the top of the couch. “I… I think I —” 

“Guys, they’re here!” Dustin shouts. You look up at the ceiling, thanking whoever was up there for the change of subject. 

“You’re not off the hook,” Max pokes you. “We’ll see about that,” you remark. 

The kids hide behind the kitchen counter while you let Robin and Steve in. You swing the door open, your eyes immediately staring at Steve. He's wearing a white sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark-wash jeans. 

“Hey, why did Robin —” Steve starts to say, but gets interrupted by everyone else. 

“Surprise!” You all shout. You take Steve’s hand, rushing him into your house. 

“Happy birthday, baby!” You beam. Steve stares at everything in shock. “Holy shit. Y-You did all of this?” “With a little help,” you flash a smile at Robin. You get stuck on her for a moment. She looks so pretty. Her hair is actually in a different style, half-up-half-down. She’s black jeans and a Cyndi Lauper graphic t-shirt that’s tucked into her skirt. You can’t help but notice her curves that are accentuated by the belt she’s wearing. You lick your lips subconsciously before setting your attention on Steve. 

“Thank you so much,” Steve smiles at you. “I am such a lucky guy.” He scoops you up in his arms and kisses you, lifting you and spinning you around. You hum contently as your eyes flutter shut, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your fingers into his hair. 

He sets you down with a big smooch on your cheek. “I love you so much,” he whispers. 

You giggle and hug him tightly. “I love you so much more.” You shut your eyes and kiss his jaw. When you open your eyes, you’re met with Robin’s frown. She’s looking down at the floor, playing with her belt. You pull away from Steve's grasp, turning to the kids. 

“Who’s hungry? We have ribs, mashed potatoes, potato salad, beer, for the adults, and soda for the kids,” you say. 

“I’m basically 18, Y/n!” Dustin exclaims. “You can’t drive a car, Dusty. Talk to me about drinking when you can do that,” you snort. 

“Do you mind if I eat? I’m starving,” Steve says. “Not at all. It’s all for you, sweetie,” you smile. 

“Awesome. Again, you’re the best.” He pecks your cheek, his hand slipping off of your back. He goes over to talk to the kids while you stay near Robin. 

“You look great, by the way,” you smile. Her eyes light up and she looks at her outfit up and down. “You think so?”

“Yep. I gotta say, though, your Scoops Ahoy outfit looked better,” you joke. “I should get it back out then. I might have it still,” Robin grins. 

“If you can get Steve to wear it, too, that would be awesome,” you say. “I’m pretty sure he burned it,” Robin smirks. 

“Ah, bummer,” you feign disappointment.

Silence falls on you two again. You keep your eyes locked onto Steve while Robin is shamelessly admiring you. 

“You should eat before the food is all gone,” you say. “I’m okay. I ate before I came,” she says. 

“I’ll make sure to save a piece of cake then,” you say. “Did you make that, too?” She asks. 

“No,” you chuckle. “I can cook, but for some reason I can’t bake.”

“Well, I can’t cook or bake, so you’re better than I am,” Robin chuckles. “I can teach you how to cook if you want,” you offer. 

“That would be fun. But I might blow up your kitchen,” Robin jokes. You shrug and look at your walls and cabinets. “It needs a remodel anyways.”

Robin opens her mouth to reply, but she’s interrupted by Lucas and Dustin. 

“Dance party!” Lucas shouts. Dustin turns on the radio, blaring it as loudly as everyone’s ears can take. 

Steve slides over to you, putting his hand out. “May I have this dance, beautiful?”

You slip your hand into his. “Yes, you may.” You give a little wave to Robin before dancing with Steve. You wrap your arms around his neck as he grips your hips. You sway to the beat, staring into each other eyes. 

“You look so pretty,” he compliments. You smile widely. “And you look handsome. Is this a new sweater?”

“Yep. I bought it for myself for my birthday.”

“Well look at you spoiling yourself.”

“You know me. I live the lavish life.”

You take in a deep breath after you laugh. Steve is grinning from ear to ear. “I love that sound.” 

“Well, you seem to be very good at making it,” you giggle. “Good,” he states. He leans in to you and kisses your jaw lovingly. “I bet I’m good at making other sounds, too.”

“Steve! The kids are here!” You poke his shoulder. He chuckles and pulls back. “I know. I just want you to be prepared for tonight.”

“Oh?” You raise your brow. “And whats happening tonight?”

“Well, I am going to thank you for all your hard work by putting in my own work.”

“Oh, Steve,” you hum. “You always have such a way with words. I cannot wait.”

“Good, because I am —”

“Sorry,” Robin mutters as she pushes past the both of you. You step back from Steve, watching as Robin is holding her mouth and rushing to the bathroom. 

“Is she okay?” Steve asks. “I-I don’t know. You don’t mind me checking on her, do you?” You ask. 

“Not at all. I can have a dance battle with Dustin,” Steve grins. You chuckle and kiss him lovingly, pressing yourself into him to give the kiss more meaning. “Have fun with that.”

Your hand lingers onto Steve’s as you walk away. You put your ear to the bathroom door and knock softly. 

“Hey, Robin. It’s me, Y/n. Are you okay?” You ask. 

“U-Uh, yeah. Just an upset stomach,” she answers. “Do you need any help? Can I come in?” You ask.

“Yeah, sure.” You hear the toilets flush and the door unlock, signaling you to step in. You shut the door behind you, sighing as you see Robin on the floor, holding her stomach and head as she leans against the bathtub. 

You sit down across from her, leaning over and putting your hand to her forehead. “No fever,” you say. “What did you eat on the way here?”

“A bag of Doritos. And then I tried to have a beer, and well, here we are,” she sighs. 

“Robin,” you sigh. “I don’t know if you’ve ever drank, but I think it’s common knowledge to never drink on an empty stomach.”

“I know, but these jeans are so tight,” she complains. “Who the hell cares about that? I think you look fantastic,” you say. 

“Yeah, but I… I wanted to look nice,” she pouts. 

You smile softly and take her hands into hers. “Robin, look at me.”

She slowly lifts her head, butterflies flattering as you say her name. Her lips are so red from being wiped and her eyes are watering from vomiting. There’s a light blush that paints her cheeks, making her freckles pop. 

“In the couple of months I have known you, I never thought you to be the one to care about that stuff. And I mean, you have no reason to. You’re so pretty. But anyway, if the jeans are too tight, then all you need to do is lose the belt. Or hell, even take it off. I promise that you’ll look just as great as you did with the belt off,” you assure her. 

Robin gives you a thankful smile. “I appreciate it, Y/n, but that’s not the reason why. I mean, I do have insecurities, but that’s not the root problem here.”

“Oh,” you sit up. “I’m so sorry for assuming. I - God, I’m such an idiot,” you mutter.

Robin sits up and shakes her head furiously. “No, no! I wasn’t offended. It was really sweet. And it was my fault, I didn’t stop you or anything.”

“Thank you, I’m glad I didn’t make you mad. Anyways, do you mind telling me what is the issue?” You ask. 

“I… I shouldn’t,” Robin shakes her head. You nod, “I understand. Well, are you feeling better now?”

“Yes, much,” she smiles. “Thank you for coming in here. I’m sorry for making your bathroom smell like throw-up.”

“Nothing a little air freshener can’t do,” you pat her hand. 

Robin sighs and leans against your bathtub again. “You should go back out there. It’s Steve’s birthday and you’re his girlfriend.”

“I'm pretty sure he’s busy losing to Dustin in their dance battle,” you chuckle. “Can you believe he’s a grown man?” Robin snorts. 

You shake your head. “It shocks me every day.”

Robin laughs, looking at you through hooded eyes. “You really should go.”

“Okay,” you agree. “But not without you.” You stand up, bringing Robin up with you. 

“I’ll make sure to eat something before I drink,” Robin says. “Good idea,” you smirk.

“Can I brush my teeth first?” she asks. “For sure,” you nod. You pull out a spare toothbrush from the sink cabinet. You lean against the wall and wait for her to finish. You stare at her figure in the mirror. She looks like one of those carved statues in the museums.

“Thanks,” she says as she rinsed her mouth. “Let’s go.” Robin takes a step toward the door, but you stop her. “One second. Let me just —” you unbuckle her belt and throw it to the ground. The jeans puff out slightly, making her look more comfortable. 

“Thank you,” Robin breathes out. “Of course. Always happy to help,” you smile, looking back at her from the belt. 

Time stops again and the air between you two becomes tense and thick. You’re still holding Robin’s hand, and don’t realize it until she tightens her grip on yours. You gaze into her pretty brown eyes, dropping your eyes down to her lips. They’re the perfect shade of pink and look so incredibly soft. 

“Y/n,” Robin whispers. Your eyes flicker back to hers. “Yeah?” You breath out. 

“You were the reason why I wanted to look nice,” she confesses. Your heart leaps out of your chest. “R-Really?”

You watch as her eyes seem to switch between yours and your lips in slow motion. 

“Yes,” she nods. She takes a step closer, the tops of your noses rubbing against each other. “I like you a lot. And I know you’re dating Steve and you don’t like girls, but it’s killing me. Y-You’re killing me, Y/n.”

Her words echo in your spinning head. This is like a dream come true for you. A girl you like finally likes you back. You can’t just disregard this. But before you can think of a logical reply, your mouth speaks for you. 

“I like girls,” you spit out. “I-I like girls, and I like you, too.”

“Seriously?” Robin gasps. You smile, “yes.”

“Am I dreaming?” Robin asks. “I don’t know, Robin? Wanna see?” you propose. 

Her heart flutters as you say her name. “H-How?” Robin asks. 

You lean in slowly, sliding your fingers between her belt loops and pull her hips flush against yours. Her body against yours light a fire inside of you. She blushes heavily at the gesture, wrapping her arms around your back.

You keep eye contact as you’re about to kiss her. Robin’s eyes flutter close as your lips brush against hers. Sparks fly between you two as you fully press your lips onto hers. A thrill runs up your spine as her lips move with hers. You’re right, they are incredibly soft, and fit yours so well. 

Robin’s free hand reaches up to your face and cups your jaw, bringing you in closer and kissing you deeper. Your arm wraps around her waist and you pull her flush against you. She hums into your mouth, gripping the back of your head. 

“Y/n, what the hell!” Lucas exclaims. 

You and Robin jump apart, absolutely horrified. You’re thankful that Steve isn’t there, but Max and Lucas are. 

“Oh,” Max gasps. “So, this is what was so complicated.”

————

read part two!

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[no-one-fuck-a-man]

Berry Blues

Season Two

Part Fourteen - (Blame it on the Alcohol) The First Time

Quinn Fabray x Reader

Summary: With Alcohol Awareness Week came the exact opposite of what your school wanted for the pupils within. A party where every underage member would be getting drunk out of their minds, which only lead to the domino effect that was the Alcohol Awareness Assembly.

Word Count: 11,525

WARNINGS: Threats, underage drinking, Rachel “The Cockblock” Berry, descriptions of hangover(s), one night stand, biphobia, slight angst, Kurt being a dick, talks of sex, vomiting, jealous Quinn, fluff, talks of alcoholism, flirting

(A/N): Right, so it’s finally here! Sorry for the delay, palls. What with the holiday season, getting sick, getting busy, getting sicker, I’ve been having a tough time keeping up with everything. That being said, I’m afraid I will have to push the other two parts back until an undetermined time. Just until like gets back on track for me.

-----

It was nearing the end of the day, and you were forced into the dimly lit choir room by your sister, awaiting her special guest so that she could perform her originally-written song. Because she just couldn't let that idea go, not that you're surprised.

"What's up, my hot little Jewish-American princess? And Y/N."

"Always a pleasure, Puckerman," you said, watching as the boy moved to take the seat beside your sister at the piano. While you leaned against the large instrument.

"What do you want, Puckerman?"

"Word on the street is that your dads are out of town. And you're all alone in your house."

"I swear to Lucifer, if you're trying to get in her pants right now, you'll be going through the windows of Mr Schue's office," you seethed, fire behind your eyes as you glared at the boy. Watching as he shot his hands up in surrender, fear filling his own eyes at your threat.

"They are on the Rosie O'Donnell cruise," Rachel stated, "Wait, who told you that?"

"Sure as hell weren't me."

"It's the kind of information a guy like me tends to know. So, uh... party this Saturday? I'll bring the beer ball. It's a mini-keg."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"What? I can't get a full-sized one."

"That's not what I was talking about."

"Yeah, forget it, Puck," Rachel added.

"Come on, just the Glee kids," the delinquent said, getting up from the bench to stand opposite you on the piano, "We're losing our minds. All stressed about Sectionals and stuff."

"Regionals," your sister corrected, "Besides, you just want a place to have sex and get drunk." She couldn't help but cringe at that.

"Yeah. There's a word for that, a party."

"No- No. No, our dads they left us alone in the house because they trusted us to be responsible."

"They left you alone because you suck and are a total bore."

"Watch it, Puckerman," you warned.

"-And Y/N doesn't like parties." You glared at him as he left, just as Finn entered the room, greeting each other in passing.

"How's the songwriting going?"

"Hey. It's going amazing." Rachel rushed to get up, gushing to her ex-boyfriend, as you mouthed over her shoulder, 'help me', in reference to her song. "Which is why I wanted you to come by. I wanted you to hear it."

'Run', you mouthed over to him, once again. Before your attention was pulled to Brad sitting at the piano, out of the corner of your eye. "Do you just like hang around here, waiting for people to start singing."

The man shrugged. "Pretty much."

"Oh, yeah, cool," Finn finally said, not heeding your prior warning.

"Come here."

You watched as the two shared a hug, with an uncomfortable cringe on your face.

"Oh, that's awkward," you mumbled to yourself, Brad catching it and nodding in agreement.

"What was that for?"

"To break the tension. We- We were boyfriend and girlfriend, Finn. It's silly for us to pretend like we aren't comfortable around each other."

"I'm uncomfortable right now."

"Yeah, totally."

"And I know that we have some unresolved feelings, but, like my two new role models, Carol King and Gerry Goffin, I think it's important that we just put them aside and stay focused on our mission which is just to write an amazing song to win Regionals with."

"Which I still think is a bad idea," you gave your input.

"Well, I have no idea who those people are."

"You and me both, brother."

Finn shot you a dopey smile over Rachel's head before turning back to her. "But, uh, I'm on board. Let's hear it."

"It's just a little rough," she warned the boy.

'It's a lot rough'

"But, uh... I think it's really special."

Doing what you had grown used to the past week, you dazed off blankly, allowing your sister's song to wash over you and far, far away.

However, Finn soon came to your rescue.

"Uh, hold- Hold on."

"Oh, thank God," you breathed.

"Is this song about your headband?"

"Yes," Rachel stated, "It's called 'My Headband'."

"Right."

"I told you to run," you leaned forward to whisper to the tall boy.

"They say you should write what you know."

"That's a bullshit saying anyway." You shrugged. "How do you explain 'Dracula'? You think Bram Stoker was a flippin' vampire?"

"Well, anyway, it uh, it's really..." Finn searched his brain for the right descriptor. "Interesting. But it's not emotional of, like, good."

"It sucks."

"Yeah."

"I could have told you that. No. In fact, I did tell you that," you said with your arms folded across your chest. Turning to your friend, you continued, "There were worse first drafts if you could believe it."

"Y/N!" your sister yelped, scolding you for embarrassing her in front of her ex-boyfriend, who she was still hung up on, no matter her denial. With a sigh, she wondered, "How am I supposed to write a song like Jodi Mitchell of Carole King? They've lived."

"Well, maybe if you want to be an artist like them, you should do a little living," the boy offered with a shrug, standing to his full height.

"You're so right. I mean, even now, it's Alcohol Awareness Week, and we're supposed to sing about the dangers of drinking, and I've never even had a drink."

"Wait, seriously?" Finn smiled, "That's why I never got past second base."

Swiftly, you smacked him around the head, hard enough for him to wince and rub at the offending area, while muttering an apology to you. While Rachel rounded him, heading to one of the room's many exits.

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To find Puckerman."

Your eyes widened at that, putting two and two together.

"Oh, God, please no."

"-You know, my journey from little princess to "natural woman" begins this Saturday night. At my house."

"I don't think you understand how sexual that sounded!"

---

That Saturday night, you were in your room getting dressed, having just finished an extra shift at your work, when the door sounded with three knocks.

"Y/N!"

"I got it!" you yelled back, agitated by your sistered shout, rushing down the stairs to open the door, "Hey, guys," you greeted Finn, Kurt, and Blane, leading them through your home to the entrance of your basement, where your sister was waiting. Right by that painting of her, that haunted your nightmares.

"Welcome. Kurt. Blane."

"Do you have one of those?" Blane questioned, pointing to the oil painting.

"Nope. My parents keep booking for me to have it done, but I keep finding excuses for them to push it back. I told them that if I don't get a sword and a horse in it, I'm not having it done."

The boys laughed at your ways around not having an oil painting of your own, while Rachel stated, "Wasn't expecting you guys."

Finn was the one to explain, "Kurt's been blackmailing me ever since he saw my browser history. He kind of insisted on me coming."

"Dude, what type of weird porn are you watching?" you joked, bringing up the rear of the last of the partygoers.

"I'm totally off the clock right now, Rachel," Blane explained, taking off his scarf and coat, "I'm not a Warbler. I'm just Blane. I'm not even wearing my uniform."

"I'd be worried if you were, considering it's Saturday."

Blane pointed your way. "Exactly."

"So, this is your dads' Oscar room," Kurt said.

"Yes. They transformed our ordinary basement for our famous annual Oscar parties."

"Is that a stage?" Blane asked, pointing to the thing Mercedes and Lauren were sitting on, with Quinn hanging close by.

"I like to give impromptu performances for our neighbours sometimes."

The smile you pulled was both fake and painful looking as you turned to Blane to inform him, "I'm adopted."

"Yeah, that kinda makes sense."

Your sister gasped happily behind you, making you peer over your shoulder, only to see her talking to Quinn. "Hey, girlfriend. Having fun?"

"Yeah, " Quinn said, as Santana and Sam made out on a chair behind her, "Awesome party."

"You don't gotta lie to her like that," you said when the blonde walked by you, leaning her arms against the bar, trying to ignore her ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend behind her.

"O-okay. Let's, uh... let's go over the rules."

"Rules?" you asked sceptically, wondering what the hell you had missed while you were both at work and getting changed out of your dirt-covered clothes.

"Everybody gets two drink tickets to keep things from getting out of hand," she explained, handing the boys their hot pink tickets.

"Drink tickets. Really, Rach? What is this, a wedding?"

"We don't want things to get out of hand."

"Aha." You folded your arms across your chest, waiting for her to continue.

"We are serving wine coolers today. That is our speciality drink. It's actually all we have..." Rachel didn't notice the boys walking from her presence, nor you shaking your head at them at your sister's antics.

"See, this is why I should have been involved in the prep. But no!" You shot your hands into the air. "She said she could handle it herself."

"Brittany! Remember the rules. No sitting on anything."

Looking over, you spotted the girl sitting upon your family's dryer, looking utterly bored.

"Oh, leave her alone." You waved the blonded actions off, turning to your sister, gesturing to said machine, "I've fucked-" You grew quiet then, everyone's attention on you now, including your sister's. Who seemed angry and ready to snitch and tell your fathers if need be. "You know what, maybe you're right. Actually. Nobody should sit on anything." You waved around the room. "Including the furniture... especially the bar," you finished, pointing over your shoulder at the surface, making Quinn remove herself from it with an almost mortified, angered look.

"You're a slut," Santana called over to you with a knowing smile.

"Oh, you bet I am," you smiled happily. Not wanting it any other way.

"O-okay," Rachel spoke, moving on from your words, with a light shake of her head, raising her pink wine cooler into the air, "Okay, everybody. Cheers!"

"Great party, Rachel," Artie lied to the girl, fake praise dropping as he continued, "We gotta run."

"Take me with you."

"Yeah, dinner reservations," Tina tried to excuse to the disappointed girl.

Stuttering over her words, she tried to convince them to stay, "But we haven't even played celebrity yet."

"You know, you may have been named after Rachel, but you sure are a Monica."

"W-why's everybody leaving?" your sister whispered over to Finn, still loud enough for others to hear.

Taking it upon himself to answer, about ready to leave himself, puck replied, "Because this party blows."

"But- But..." Rachel looked your way. Disheartened and just wanting some support, hoping that you would jump to her defence.

But her hope was for nought.

"Oh, don't look at me." You shook your head, pointing over to the group getting ready to leave... and Puckerman. "I agree with them."

"I haven't even had my first sip yet. How am I supposed to write "Both Sides Now" if I can't even throw a party?" she questioned to no one in particular. Turning from everyone at the front of the basement, tension rolled off her shoulders as she paused momentarily before spinning back to Finn and Puck.

"Look, if you want everyone to stay, you have to let me break into your dads' liquor cabinet. No one's gonna get buzzed off two wine coolers."

"You know how much the stuff in there is worth, Puck?"

"I'll replace it before they get home."

Rolling your eyes at the mohican boy, you countered his argument, "You couldn't even bring that mini-keg of yours. How are you gonna replace that stuff?"

Rachel contemplated his suggestion for a few moments before looking to you almost for your permission- Or input, you weren't sure.

Giving a shrug, you raised your hands, not wanting anything to do with it. She said she could throw a party herself, so that's exactly what she was going to do.

"This is your choice. And you will be the one taking the blame if anything happens or doesn't happen." You finished by looking pointedly over to Puckerman, who just rolled his eyes at your -valid- distrust towards him.

Processing your words, and after receiving a soft nod from Finn, Rachel raised her drink high once more, voice wavering out of nervousness, "Let's party!"

Those were the magic words.

However, it seemed that they weren't enough.

Growing impatient, you strode over to where Finn, Puck and Mike were gathered around your father's liquor cabinet, muttering between themselves.

"What's takin' so long? We're gonna end up finishing the wine coolers before we get any good booze."

Agitated, Puck looked at you over his shoulder, gesturing to the lock with the bobby pin between his fingers. "The lock's really hard to break, okay?"

You hummed, nodding to the boy as he turned back to his task at hand.

"I don't know," you stated, reaching over for the lamp, sitting beside the many martini glasses, lifting it, and scooping up the thing underneath, "Maybe it would be easier to use the key."

Puckerman couldn't believe what you were holding directly in front of his face.

A twinkling, silver key.

"You let me try to pick this lock for five minutes when you knew where the key was?" he asked, backing away, allowing you to open the cabinet.

"Hey, I tried. But you said that you've broken into liquor cabinets hundreds of times before. Or were you just compensating for something, huh?" You backhanded his crotch, making him groan, while you turned to walk back to the bar, vodka bottle in hand.

"How did you know where the key was?" Mike smiled, jogging up beside you, as Finn made sure Puck was okay.

You shrugged. "I live here. Also, I've been breaking into it since I was fourteen." You pointed his way. "Don't tell Rachel. She's a total nark. Especially when it comes to this stuff."

"She'll hear nothing from me."

"Okay, who wants real alcohol?!" you called, raising the bottle high into the air, gaining cheers in return.

A few hours and a mass amount of red cups later, almost everyone was drunk. Some more than others. But still drunk.

The music was loud, and people were dancing.

You were one of them.

Standing upon the dark wood of your coffee table, dancing haphazardly beside Mike.

You knew you were drunk. You just didn't think you were as drunk as you actually are. Which was proven thanks to when you stumbled from the table and onto the plush rug underneath. Almost colliding with Quinn, who was massing with a table beside Zizes.

"Woah, sorry." Looking at the blonde's face, you spotted the new addition sitting on her face. Lauren's oversized glasses. Which, you couldn't lie, looked good on her. And thanks to the alcohol flowing through your system, she knew too, "Hey, you suit glasses. Like you look really hot with them." Curse your drink-induced tongue.

"You're not too bad on the eyes, either," she flirted back, holding the plastic cup up by her face, the liquid within giving her the courage to do so, even in front of others.

"When you're wearing glasses that you probably don't need, I don't think that's a compliment."

Swiftly, the blonde pulled the glasses from her face Puckerman, quick to pluck them from her fingers and wear them himself as he danced around you and the girl on his way to his current crush.

"Yeah," she uttered, looking you up and down, "Definitely not bad on the eyes."

Before you could flirt back, chanting filled the basement.

"Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!"

Peering over, you found your sister downing one of the many leftover wine coolers. Only to cheer and throw your arms into the air when she finished the drink.

After burping into the pink rhinestone-encrusted microphone, she yelled, "It tastes like pink. It tastes like pink! Pink!"

With a laugh at your sister's drunken state, you turned back, expecting to find the blonde still there after cheering Rachel on with you, but was sorely mistaken. Only to be met with an empty space where she once was. Checking over your shoulder, you found her almost swaying as she headed towards the orange sofa, or maybe she was just moving along to the music, like many of your other friends. It seems Quinn grew easily distracted in her alcohol-induced state.

Shrugging to yourself, you moved to dance with Mike to the music playing once more, busting out laughing with every silly move you made. But not long later, you found yourselves heading towards Mercedes and Tina, wanting to know what they were cracking up at on the other side of the room.

Little did you know, at the stage, your sister was getting a lesson on drunk archetypes.

Now, that's something they don't teach in schools.

"Guys and girls fall into certain archetypes when they get drunk," Finn explained to the drunk girl hanging all over him, waving his hands about as he spoke. Soon gesturing over to his first point. "Exhibit 'A': Santana. The "weepy, hysterical" drunk."

His description of the girl was accurate, to say the least. Because, at that moment, she was pointing and yelling at her blonde boyfriend, mascara pooled below her eyes as she cried.

"You like her more than me! She's blonde and awesome and so smart," she listed, obviously describing Sam's ex-girlfriend, who he was still hung up on after she broke his heart. If you were close by, you would have undoubtedly said something to point out how gay that sounded and like she was fawning over her ex-cheer captain. But alas, you weren't, so the girl was free to continue her weepy anguish. "Admit it. Just admit it." All the while, her boyfriend looked like he wanted to be anywhere but dealing with her in that state, looking around for help, which panicked the girl, quickly pulling him into her embrace, "No. Kiss me."

Moving onto his next "exhibit", Finn continued, "Lauren Zizes and Quinn, the "Anger girl" drunks."

At the other side of the room, in front of that same orange couch, stood three people. The two aforementioned girls and Puckerman.

Quinn and Lauren rounded him like he was wounded prey, and they were the predators in a wildlife documentary.

It was the blonde who had her outburst first.

"I can't believe what you did to my body. I used to have abs!"

Just like with Santana, if you were near enough and not distracted by your own little group of friends, you would undoubtedly be there, ready to give her as many compliments and kind words she needed to make her smile once more.

As she walked away, Zizes took that as her turn to ridicule the boy in her drunken state.

"Who told you that hairstyle was cool, Geronimo?"

"Chill out!" Puckerman tried to defend himself.

"Brittany," Finn continued to list, "Also known as the "girl who turns into a stripper" drunk."

No longer sitting upon the dryer, Brittany stood dancing for her boyfriend in nothing but her shorts, bra, and thigh-high boots. Swinging her shirt around.

The boy, who had obviously been digging through your sister's box of props and stage clothes, looked ridiculous as he threw dollar bills at the girl.

"Making it rain! Whoo! That's my girlfriend. I love you, baby."

"Mercedes and Tina, the "happy girl" drunks."

Upon the brown patterned sofa, before Mike and yourself, sat the two girls laughing hysterically at something the boy said. Tina repeatedly slapped Mercedes' thigh as the girl cackled.

"Bonus," Finn added, "Y/N, the "turns into a comedian" drunk,"

Harshly swallowing around the gulp of alcohol in your mouth, you continued your joke for the awaiting girls. With Mike's hand upon your shoulder, waiting intently for the punchline.

"And then- Then he turned to me and said, "what's between your legs?" I told him, "your mom's head"!"

"And then we come around full circle, right back to you. Rachel. And right now, you're being the "needy girl" drunk," he told the shorter Berry, whose cheek was pressed against his shoulder, basking in the presence of her ex-boyfriend, "Hanging all over me, being overly lovey. It's not cool."

Removing herself from his body, Rachel drunkenly pat his shoulder, moving closer to his face, "blessing" him with her strong alcohol breath, to ask, "Well, what kind of girl is that?" With the contents of her red cup dripping down her chin and her arms spread wide, she shouted to her friends filling the basement, gaining cheers from them, "Let's spin the bottle. Who wants to play spin the bottle? Spin the bottle."

It was an easy decision for you to opt-out of the game. Instead, while everyone gathered around in a haphazard circle, you sat in the chair behind your sister. The other two not joining in on the kissing game being Santana and Quinn.

The blonde sat not too far away from you, and the Latina hung out at the bar with a drink in hand.

Everyone spectated as Brittany spun the empty wine cooler bottle, only for it to land upon Sam Evans.

"You know what?" Santana called over, finger raised in warning, to the group, "A reminder: I owns that guppy mouth. Those trouty Aerosmith lips belong to me, so..."

You were so drunk that your brows furrowed in an almost studying expression as you watched the two blonded kiss. But still, you had enough wherewithal to peer over your shoulder to make sure the boys' ex was okay, only to find her watching the two with sad eyes.

Reaching behind you as best you could, you grasped her calf, rubbing into the soft skin underneath, trying to comfort her, gaining a soft smile in return as Sanatana reached over to separate the two.

"You know what this is not? Hey, honeys? It's not a Big Red commercial. No me gusta."

"Oh, I agree with Santana," your voice began to take on a dopey, slurred sound, "I don't wanna see that."

Rachel threw her arms up right after, blanking your words entirely.

"Whoo! Party. My turn. It's my turn."

You groaned, flinging your head back as the noise of glass spinning against the wooden checkerboard filled the room, "I definitely don't wanna see that!"

At the intense cheering and Kurt's playful words, you lifted your head to see what was going on.

"This is outstanding!"

Only to find your sister pointing to Kurt's crush.

"Blane Warbler, I'm gonna rock. Your. World."

You laughed at that, just glad that you weren't about to watch her kiss anybody who might try to sleep with her at the end of the night.

"Stop egging them on!" You smiled at your friends, playful in their cries for the two to deepen the kiss, "I don't wanna see my sister make out with anybody, gay or not."

When the kiss had gone on for a little while, and Kurt could no longer take seeing that right in front of his face, he clapped his hands, hoping to get the two to pull away.

"Okay, I think we've had enough of that!"

"I know I have," you called, continuing to cackle, "But get used to it, Rach. He's not the only gay guy you're gonna kiss in your life!"

Finally pulling away, Rachel told the boy, "Your face... tastes awesome," turning to the watching crowd, she yelled, "I think I just found a new duet partner!"

"Oh God, please don't start singing."

And so led to yet another Rachel Berry performance in your basement.

Taking up refuge upon the brown chair, you watched as the two sang upon the stage, bouncing energetically to the music. Too drunk to notice the look Quinn and Finn both shared.

However, as you took a sip of your strong drink, your eyes found the couples adorning the room. Tina and Mike danced erratically before moving into a make-out session. While Brittany and Santana parked themselves on their respective boyfriends' laps, kissing them. And you suddenly felt lonely in a room filled with your friends. Hell, even Puckerman and Lauren seemed to be affectionate with each other.

So, it was only natural how your eyes travelled to the blonde who had ensnared your heart.

With a wave of your hand towards her thigh, you caught the girl's attention.

Making a grabbing motion, you silently asked for her hand. Which she gave to you, no questions asked, allowing you to lead her towards you, settling her on your lap so that she was sitting sideways, with one arm thrown over the back of the chair. The other held her cup on her lap, yours beside it, as your free hand moved to hold her waist.

The alcohol in her system truly threw her fears and inhibitions out of the window.

"How you doin' with everything?"

"I'm heartbroken and it's all I deserve."

Jutting out your bottom lip in a pout, hand travelling to rub up and down her back while she leaned into you, playing with the short tresses of the back of your hair.

"I don't like it when you're sad."

Pulling her cup to her lips, she replied with a shrug, "Maybe I shouldn't have cheated on Sam then."

"Yeah, you shouldn't of." You nodded, agreeing with her. "It wasn't a nice thing to do to ol' Sammy boi. But hey, I do know one thing to be true though."

Quinn sucked the leftover alcohol from her lips, peering down at you in curiosity.

"What's that?"

"If you didn't, you wouldn't be sitting on my lap right now."

With a giggle, she leaned in close, holding your neck in place so that you couldn't pull away even if you wanted to. Her voice seemed to lower an octave or two as she muttered her information over to you, "It is very comfortable."

"Well, it thanks you for those kind words."

"How drunk are you?" she asked after a few seconds of silent thinking, eyes shifting to look at every part of your face.

"'Bout as drunk as you."

"That's the perfect amount, then," she whispered before leaning in.

However, before her lips could meet yours. You were pulled out of your little world by none other than your friends cheering for the finished performance.

Still, you had the desire to solely blame your sister for being a cock block.

---

You awoke the next day with an intense hangover and a splitting headache.

With a groan, you turned to read the time upon the clock on your bedside table. The thing mocked you with every tick it made, sending a sharp pain through your skull and deep into your brain. It almost wasn't worth finding out it was 11:15 AM. No... it wasn't worth it.

Ever so slowly, you laid yourself back onto your mattress so as to not further anger your hangover. Eyes slipping shut, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep under your belt before you had to deal with the task of trying to cure your hangover.

That was until you felt shuffling in the bed beside you.

Your eyes snapped open, fighting against the pain brought on by the sudden brightness of your room, hurriedly peering over to the space beside you.

Only to find a naked blonde lying face down in the bed beside you. Her hair fanned across her bare shoulders in messy waves, back raising and falling in steady breaths, captivating your eyes.

There were only two possibilities on who it could be.

One was more likely to happen than the other.

So, as the girl began moving, letting out soft noises in reaction to her own hangover, you found yourself silently chanting.

'Please don't be Brittany. Please don't be Brittany. I can't do that to Artie'

No matter how likely it would be her.

I mean, there was no way it could be the alternative... right?

But there she was.

In all of her hangover glory.

Quinn Fabray.

"What?" she breathed, now on her back, confused as to why you were lying beside her and why you were shirtless, "What happened? Why are you naked?" Glancing down, she found herself in the same predicament. Quickly scooping up the bed sheets as she moved to sit up covering her chest. "Why am I naked?"

At her mass amount of questions, you finally realised that you were, in fact, naked yourself. The full memories of last night hitting you light a freight train.

But if there was one thing you could never stop being, that was a sarcastic shit.

"I'm surprised that you would need the birds and the bees talk."

The girl placed a plan over her scrunched-up face, voice coming out slightly muffled as she spoke, "Oh, God, we had sex, didn't we?" The question was rhetorical. You could tell she was remembering your midnight activities together.

"Oh, gee, thanks. Say it like you regret it more, why don't you?"

"I didn't mean it like that." She shook her head at you. Quinn was silent for a few long moments before her voice trailed off, "I can't believe we were drunk the first time we had sex."

"First time?" you pointed out, with a wiggle of your eyebrows, gaining a roll of her hazel eyes in return.

"Shut up."

"I would say "make me", but you already did that last night."

Quinn groaned, resting her head in her hands. Soon surprising you, when she moved closer, laying on your -still naked- chest.

"I'm going back to sleep. This headache is killing me."

You hummed in agreement, hand coming up to play with her messy blonde hair, trying to tame it as best you could.

"Let's hope that Rachel doesn't barge in."

"At this point, I don't care. As long as she lets me sleep this off."

Scoffing lightly, as you slowly fell asleep along with the girl, you uttered, "You must be stupid to think she wouldn't scream the house down."

No words were spoken after that.

The room no longer held two hungover teens after a night of sex.

It now held two hungover teens after a night of sex that were now fast asleep.

---

The next time you were at school was great... for you.

Your friends, however? They were still suffering the repercussions of alcohol.

You probably should have known something was up when you spotted a large gaggle of them talking by the entrance.

But alas, you still strode your way over to them, greeting them with a smile.

"Hi, guys."

"Oh God, what the hell?" Artie asked when he saw you.

Smile drooping in confusion, you asked, "What?"

"How are you not hungover like the rest of us?" Santana clarified.

Shrugging, you explained, "I don't have hangovers. Well, I do, but they normally only last a few hours if I take care of myself right... but still, I think I have alcoholics in my DNA." Then a devilish smile of realisation took over your face, looking at them all. "Wait, are you guys still hungover?" Is that why you're these?" You gestured to their shades, soon reaching over to flick at Quinn's. "Wow, do you not have a pair of sunglasses that don't make you look like a bug?"

"Get off." She slapped your arm away. "I'm in pain."

"Oh, the poor baby," you said in a mocking tone. But still, you strode over to the girl, wrapping your arm around her shoulders, and pulled her into your chest.

For the first time all weekend, since she removed herself from your body in the late afternoon to go home, Quinn felt better. The scent that she could only describe as you wafted up her nose from your comfortable hoodie, almost seeming to soothe the intense ache in her brain immediately. Along with the darkness you gave her being pressed against you. If it was one thing Quinn was certain of, it was the fact that you were undoubtedly the world's best hangover cure.

"Hey, I'm in pain, too."

Rolling your eyes at Santana, you pulled her against you as well, feeling the blonde tense up suddenly under your arm, confusing you slightly. But you were quick to chalk it up as a reaction to her hangover continuing to cause her pain.

"We're all in pain," Mercedes spoke dryly.

"I'm afraid to say that I don't have enough arms to hug all of you."

"Well, I've got something to help with that," Artie smiled, raising the thermos and paper cups in his lap, "How about some Bloody Marys, y'all?"

You scoffed disbelievingly at the boy.

"Are you kidding me?" Mercedes asked, " The last thing I wanna do is drink."

"It'll help your hangover. That's what Bloody Marys are for. Hair of the dog that done bit yo' ass."

"Listen, all that's gonna do is delay your hangovers and make it worse when you actually deal with it."

"Well, maybe if you gave us your hangover tips, we wouldn't have to do this," Sam bit, obviously in pain and probably not liking the fact that you had your arms around both his girlfriend and ex-girlfriend.

"Okay." You shrugged, still holding onto the ex-cheerleaders. "As soon as you get up, eat something big and greasy- Sounds counterproductive, I know, but it works. Have a cup of coffee and some aspirin. Continue to take aspirin throughout the day. Drink a lot of water throughout the day. Sleep throughout the day. Done."

"That's... it?" Mike asked, making you hun and nod, "No weird concoction of condiments or anything?"

"No? Dude, I'd rather deal with a hangover than drink something you made me do when we went bowling last year."

"And that works?" Mercedes asked, referring to your "hangover cure".

Another shrug. "Works for me."

Looking down, you saw that Quinn was offering you one of the blue, medical-grade paper cups.

"You doing it?" you asked, plucking the cup from her hand. Confirmation in return. "I don't have a hangover and I don't feel like drinking right now, so no, thank you." You finished, bopping her on the nose with the cup before passing it off to Santana.

"Maybe next time you could give us those hangover tips of yours before we come to school."

"Well, Puckerman, with the big game you talk and how many parties you've been to, I'd thought you'd have hangovers in the bag by now."

Raising her hands between you and the boy, Quinn spoke, "Okay, don't you two start fighting now. I'm far too hungover to deal with it right now."

"Yeah, Puckerman."

"Y/N," the blonde scolded.

Even without Beth, she sure did act like a mother sometimes.

Later that day, your group performed a tester number for Mr Schuester in preparation for the assembly.

"Well done, you guys," the teacher praised, "I mean, you always bring it with the singing and the dancing. But what I was really impressed with today was your acting. I truly thought that some of you guys were drunk."

"Well, we take out craft seriously," Artie said.

"Yeah." You shot the teacher a faux smile. "We're such good actors."

"Right. Problem is that that song is great, but it- It kinda glorifies drinking, don't you think?" You nodded to the man's words while the rest of your team looked at him as if he had lost his damn mind. "I mean, we're supposed to sing about the dangers of alcohol at this assembly."

"Well, good luck finding a song that does that." You had to agree with Mercedes' words. Not a single song about not drinking came to mind.

"Mr Schue," Rachel said, sounding just as drunk as Mercedes did. Stumbling her way over to the centre of the stage, grasping a hold of Mike's arm for support, "First of all, that vest is very cute. You are all kinds of awesome."

You shook your head, rolling your eyes at how obvious she was being in her drink-induced state.

When suddenly, you felt a hand sliding up your shirt, coming to rest upon your abdomen. Looking down in surprise, you found Quinn Fabray, gazing up at you with that same look in her eyes that she had the night of the party. With her free hand, she pulled you down to whisper privately in your ear, her hushed words making your eyes blow wide.

"I want you again."

"Oh-kay..." you said, pulling back, "You've got to be sober before you say that to me," you told her, finishing it off with a flick of your finger against the tip of her nose.

"Or, you could just get drunk," she counteroffered.

Not even gracing her with a reply, you focused back on your sister's words, all the while hoping that this was some 'liquid courage' situation and not a 'she only wants you when she's drunk' thing.

"But second, maybe there's really no songs about the dangers of drinking, because there's really none, as long as you have a proper designated driver."

'Okay, Mr Schue had got to know she's drunk right now'

"Need I remind you of hangovers," you said knowingly, words going ignored.

"Have I ever told you have great you are?"

"No! Bad, Rachel!" you scolded, pointing over at the brunette as Tina carted her boyfriend off and away from your sibling.

"Well, Rachel, yeah, driving drunk is dangerous. Any of you guys ever heard of alcohol poisoning? Yeah, it kills about four-hundred people every year."

"Oh, it's way more than that. Are you kidding me?" you regarded the man.

"You are so smart," Quinn muttered to you as she continued drawing random patterns upon the skin of your abdomen, admiring you from her position pressed against your side.

"Santana, are you crying?" Mr Schuester asked, distracted by the girl before he could reply to your words.

The teenager sniffled, waving him off. "I'm okay. I'm okay." Then her tears finally broke free, and she quickly wrapped Brittany up in a hug.

As quickly as it came, Quinn's infatuation with you left, and that same anger from a few nights ago began to build up once more. Seemingly out of nowhere, and not the fact that your attention had shifted over to the Latina.

However, instead of taking her anger out on you, it shifted to someone else entirely.

"You're such a hypocrite," she told the man, removing herself from your body, nearing him in challenge, "You drink. Most adults do."

"I may have a beer every now and then, but I- I don't get drunk," he scoffed.

"We're just sayin' this is a waste of time," Puck gave his input now, "I mean, we're totally aware of alcohol. We see adults drinking it and having fun. Every commercial for NASCAR is for beer."

"I think there are way more fun things to do than drink."

"Thank you, Y/N." Mr Schue gestured your way.

"Yeah, we could be doing one of those right now, but whatever," Quinn mumbled so only you could hear, causing your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and tongue to tuck between your teeth and lower lip, shaking your head at her drunken wants.

"Look, tomorrow, come with your thinking caps on. Because, we're gonna spend the entire day brainstorming ideas for songs to sing at this assembly."

And with that concluded the performance.

Quinn's glare sent your way as she strode from the stage with her hands upon her hips, showing you just how your day was about to go.

The rest of the day, with drunk moody Quinn thinking that you don't want her.

That's just great.

---

You were exhausted when you arrived home from work. The knowledge that you had to work on your homework only furthered that.

However, before you could begin making your way upstairs, your attention was pulled to the voices wafting from the basement. Deciding to investigate yourself, you made your way down, only to see Kurt and Rachel cleaning up from the party the previous weekend.

"Hey Kurt, what are you doing here so late?" you asked, fiddling with your watch.

"I was in the neighbourhood."

"At ten o'clock?" Rachel asked sceptically, "Are you sure you're not here just to find out how my date with Blane went?"

The shock that you felt at her statement practically blasted you back. Raising your hands, you asked, "I'm sorry, what?" Isn't he, y'know, gay?"

"He's trying to figure that out."

"Oh, so he might be bi or something?" you shrugged, catching the look Kurt had out of the corner of your eye.

"Oh, was your date tonight?"

Rachel looked at him sadly, not liking his flippancy.

"Look, we're friends. So, I'm gonna be honest with you." She held the trashcan against her chest. "The date was lovely. We saw 'Love Story' at the revival theatre. We even dressed up as the characters."

"That's not gay at all," Kurt replied resentfully.

"I don't think that's, "gay"," you said, using air quotes, "People dress up to see movies and stuff all the time. Doesn't define their sexualities."

"I agree." Rachel smiled your way.

Clearing his throat irritably, Kurt moved on to ask, "Did you kiss?"

"No. Our lips split the evening, mouthing Ali Macgraw's dialogue. Frankly, I did expect a little snog as the date drew to a close. But I guess the timing just wasn't right."

You cringed at that, "God, please don't say the word 'snog'. It goes right through me."

"Or the blood-alcohol level."

Kurt was beginning to get on your nerves with his comments and the off-putting energy he was giving off.

So with your brows downturned in annoyance, you turned to the boy, question hot on your tongue, "Kurt, are you feeling okay? 'Cause, something seems to be up your ass, and not in a good way."

Not wanting to see a fight break out between the two of you. For the first time, Rachel tried to keep the peace.

"Look, I know that you have feelings for him, and I'm sure you think I'm crazy for asking him out. But... Blane is obviously conflicted, and if he turns out to not be gay, then I guess I will have done you a favour."

"Well, we all know one thing for sure," you stated, "He definitely. Likes. Guys. So, I don't know what the whole hub-bub is about," turning to Kurt, you floated over what his true anger was about, "Or is it just because you're scared you'd have more competition?"

"I'm not scared of anything," the boy spoke, clear as day, denying your obtuse words. Then pointedly moved to talk to your sister, as he moved to sit on the stage across from her, "I'm just doing you a favour by telling you that Blane is the first of a long line of conflicted men that you will date that will later turn out to be only the most flaming of homosexuals."

"Hey!" You pointed at the boy, the fire behind your eyes flashing dangerously. "Don't steal my joke like that. It may be true, but only I can say those things to her. And that doesn't negate the fact that this is just coming from a place of biphobia and jealousy."

"Blane and I have a lot in common," Rachel added, stopping Kurt from replying to your words.

"A sentiment expressed many a hag about many a gay."

Your hands flung up into the air, head thrown back, looking like you were almost asking some Deity or God what you had done to have to deal with this coming from your friends.

Jealousy sure was a bitch sometimes.

Rachel seemed to back into herself after the boy's words, causing you to inhale sharply, anger bubbling up inside you, along with the intense drive to protect your family.

"Look, I don't doubt that you and Blane would have a jolly good time shopping at Burberry and arguing who would make the better Rum Tum Tugger. I don't dispute that," he said, placing a hand over his heart as she smiled, amused, "But there's something you and Blane will never have, and that's chemistry."

"Well, they do go to different schools." You smiled painfully at the boy, knowing exactly what you were getting at.

Your attention was soon brought back to your sister and her self-assured words.

"Fine. Then I'm gonna prove you wrong. I'm gonna take the beer goggles off, and I'm gonna kiss him sober. And if the spark is still there, then I'm taking you to the bakery of your choice for a piping-hot slice of humble pie."

You gazed down at her with a soft smile drawn across your lips, proud at the fact that this was the first time she had even attempted to "kill someone with kindness". Until the word 'pie' dawned on you.

"Can I come? I like pie."

Rachel shook her head at you humouredly before it fell when she spotted the thing hanging at the back of the stage.

"Whose bra is that?"

Looking over, you found a pink, polka-dotted bra tied up in the long beaded tassels situated in front of a plush red curtain.

Sighing, you stepped over the two folded legs, swiftly pulling the thing from its suspension.

"It's Brittany's. I'll take it back to her before work tomorrow."

"How do you know it's Brittany's?" Rachel asked, looking at you sceptically.

"She literally stripped during the party." You gestured with the thing in hand. "But even then, how do you think I know?"

Your sister's face scrunched up in reaction, disgusted by the information of your sex life, and vocalised by her, "Ew."

Clearing his throat, Kurt uttered, "I better go."

"I'll walk you out," you stated, actually wanting him to be out of your house after the comments he had made.

It was only when you were at the base of the stairs with Kurt ascending them, did Rachel call out to you.

"Are you gonna help me clean this up?"

"Hell no! You wanted the party. You clean up after it. I have better things to do." Then you remembered your homework. "You know, on second thought, maybe I will help you."

It was building up inside of you, and Kurt could feel it too. The intense need to further chew him out. By the time you held the door open for him, and he stepped out, you couldn't find it in you to keep your words at bay.

"Kurt?" You watched as his shoulders dropped in a sigh, having been hoping that you would just slam the door and let him be on his way. But that, it seemed, wasn't in the books for him, so he turned, ready to take whatever you had to say. "Our community has enough hate flung at it for it to come from inside the house, too. There's a reason there's a 'B' in LGBT, and it's not for 'boobs'. I get that there's a stigma around it for being a "stepping stone", but that doesn't mean it isn't any less valid than our sexualities." You waved a hand between the two of you. "If I were you, I'd accept that. Sooner rather than later. 'Cause hell, if Blane does turn out to be bi, there's still a chance he could like you, and I'm sure he'd be just as disappointed as I am to find out you're a biphobe. If not more so."

And with that, you gave the boy what he had originally hoped for and closed the door in his face.

---

"Hey."

Looking up from where you were lacing up your shoes, you spotted Quinn standing not too far from you, playing with her fingers. You had never seen her look so bashful before. With her hair curled and teased for the upcoming performance.

"Het," you replied in turn, rising to your full height and coming closer to the blonde, "You fully sober, or are you gonna try to have sex with me again?"

She sighed, "That's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What is there to talk about?" you shrugged, "We had sex, and nothing's gonna come of it. It was just a one-night stand... even if you did try to sleep with me again after that."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. And how moodily I reacted afterwards. I guess I can get kind of angry when I'm drunk."

"You guess?"

"Sorry up," she half laughed, half scoffed, shaking her head at you. After a few moments of just watching you smile down at her, she spoke, "You know, most people wouldn't have said "no" to me."

"If you think it was anything against you, that wasn't the case," you told her, seeing right through her nonchalant exterior and into the volubility underneath.

Quinn's brows furrowed. "It wasn't?" A shake of your head. "Then what was it?"

"You were drunk, and I wasn't," you stated simply, "I wasn't going to do that with you in that state, no matter how much you wanted it. Even if you would continue to want it when you were sober. I'm not Puckerman. I respect consent in all its forms." Then a whisper, "I wouldn't do that to you."

It didn't take a detective to see the tears shining in her eyes, begging to be released.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

A shrug. "I try. But this isn't part of that. This is just me being a normal human being."

With one last soft smile her way, you turned to get in position for the number, that was until-

"It wasn't just because of the alcohol."

"What?"

"Us having sex," Quinn clarified, "I wanted it. I just needed the courage. And in the end, there was nothing for me to be scared of."

"That right?" you asked, coming closer, a flirty smirk that matched adorning your features.

"Yeah. I had a lot of fun. Didn't know I could feel that good."

"Oh, really? Well-"

"Guys!" Mr Schue called over, shattering the moment between you and the blonde, "C'mon, let's get into places."

Turning back to the Fabray, you shook your hands beside your face. "Show time." Revelling in the soft giggle she gifted you with just as your principal spoke to the gathered assembly as your teacher exited to join them.

"Quiet, please. Quiet, please, children. I would like to wish you and yours a healthy and happy alcohol awareness week. Unfortunately, Kitty Dukakis could not be here because of disinterest. But Lima police chief Lawrence Krowley is here to show you a grisly slide show of auto accidents. Take it away, chief."

"That's gotta be illegal, right?"

"He already showed me them after I stole the ATM," Puck stated, not answering your question, in the slightest.

Coming back from peering out into the crowd, Brittany's voice wavered in nervousness, "Guys, I'm really nervous. Ke$ha's been a cultural icon for weeks, and I really want to do her music justice."

"Don't you love a couple week-long icon?" you joked, hoping to break the tension and get the scared girl to laugh, only for it to fail.

At least you tried, right?

"We haven't had enough rehearsal," Sam stated, only furthering the club's pessimism.

"Or any at all," Mercedes added.

"And most of our assembly performances usually end in some kind of riot."

"I can't be blamed for the first one," you said, straightening out your backwards cap, "My eyes are still burning from that thing."

At just that moment, Rachel rushed up, a large plastic bottle filled with a murky brown substance in hand, along with a stack of red solo cups.

"Never fear, teammates. Now, it's a Broadway tradition for nervous performers to take a shot of whiskey before going on to calm their nerves and to mask the stench of bad dental hygiene," she rushed to say, handing out the cups as the team gathered around.

Watching as she poured some of the mysterious liquid into the red cup, you questioned, "Did you drain our plumbing and are now trying to make us drink it?"

"Of course not. Following the Broadway tradition, I have mixed us a playful showbiz cocktail of what was left in my dads' liquor cabinet."

"Don't become a bartender, Rach. Because this looks like sewage water." You pointed down at the substance Artie was now pouring and handing out to everyone. "What the hell is even in that?"

"There's some brandy in here, vermouth, and port wine, and scotch in here," she listed the ingredients of her concoction, "And also a little bit of Kool-Aid and some crumbled-up Oreos."

"Oreos? Wait, are you trying to poison us with this?" you regarded her, raising your own cup in pointless reference.

"Oh, my God. This tastes like cough syrup," Santana cringed after taking a sip.

"There's also cough syrup in here." Rachel pointed down to her own drink, cringing at the taste of herself.

"Oh, it's drugged too?"

That, it seems, didn't matter to the team, as they all cheered, raising their cups to tap them all together.

"To Ke$ha."

Pulling the cup to her chest, Quinn peered into the contents unsurely, debating whether to drink it or not. With the same look in her eye, she turned to you, silently asking your opinion. With the way your face was pulled into mild disgust, she further shook her head for clarification. Gaining the same action in return, she allowed you to reach over and pluck the drink from her hand.

"Don't drink that," you whispered. Pouring her shot into your cup. Collapsing the two together and placing them away from the audience's view.

"Thank you, chief," the voice of your principal sounded throughout the gymnasium once more as you all got into your positions, "And now, performing the hit single "Tik" and also "Tok" by rapper Ke-dollar-sigh-ha, the New Directions."

The performance was going amazingly well. Which was surprising. The students seemed to be loving it, and in turn, cheering you on. However, things started to go downhill in the middle of the performance when Brittany stumbled over to say something to your sister. And by the end, it had turned into a total fiasco.

It started with Brittany. The girl moved back over to Rachel, only to projectile vomit all over her. Reaching out to the brunette, she uttered, "Oh, my God." Shocked and sorry for what had just happened all the while, the shorter Berry rushed off the stage. Presumedly to get herself cleaned up.

Then, possibly in reaction, Santana stumbled past you, retching and gagging, as she herself vomited in the direction of the audience, further shocking everyone.

Dropping the arm you had lifted into the air, avoiding the Latina, you now rubbed along her back as she continued spluttering towards the grey-matter-coated floor. Free hand, coming to pull her puke-covered hair away from her face, holding it in a ponytail, like you remember doing so much for Quinn when she was pregnant last year.

She seemed to remember that too. Chest tightening, and face twitching in the background, as she watched you take care of Santana, just like you used to do for her.

Leaning down, you passed your arm under hers, dropping her hair as you pulled her into your chest. That seemed to be exactly what Santana needed, as on instant, she cuddled into you, letting you take on most of her weight.

"Just don't throw up on me, yeah?" you whispered down to the girl, gaining a sleepy nod in return.

That was all the information you needed to begin leading her way off of the temporary stage. Passing Finn, you said, "At least this one didn't end in a riot."

You think the riot might have been better.

"Everybody, drink responsibly."

---

Mr Schue seemed to have caught on to the reoccurring battle you and Mike had against Finn and Puckerman during his class. And so, he split you up. However, he wasn't smart enough to split you from your friends entirely. No. He just placed you behind enemy lines.

So, there you sat, at the front of the class, in your usual seat, with Finn now beside you. The other two behind you as the teacher strolled between the isles.

Everything was calm.

That was until the PA system sounded to life.

The jingle of a xylophone made an entrance for a speech yet to come, then Beck Jackson's voice poured throughout the school.

"Heads up, McKinley. Coach Sylvester's gonna shout at ya'."

"Students... colleagues... indeed, all who understand the Queen's English. We all still quake in terror at what we witnessed yesterday at the assembly by a Glee Club spiralling out of control. My nose is still finned with the acrid stench of teen vomit. And there is simply but one person to blame, the alcoholic teen-vomit fetishist. Will Schuester, the director of that club. Two days ago, I received a drunk dial in the middle of the night from a horny Will Schuester."

Your brows shot into your hairline, jaw-dropping, peering over your shoulder at Mike, sharing the same look of surprised horror before you faced the front once more.

"Open your ears, McKinley high, and behold,d the awful price of alcoholism." With a soft beep, your teacher's slurred voice replaced the coaches.

"Hey there, sexy lady. There's something I really, really want to say to you. I love how you eat your lunch with your little plastic gloves, and they crinkle and make the cutest sound I've ever heard in my life." Hastily, you moved to cover your mouth, stopping the laugh that was dying to come out from escaping, the whole school knowing exactly who he was talking about. Your guidance counsellor. Your married guidance counsellor. "Why don't you pick up some wine coolers and comer over here? And it'll be just one night of us just getting crazy. Let's just get crazy. Let's just get really crazy and roll around in the hay." It was getting harder and harder to control your amusement. "I was just in some hay earlier tonight, and I rode a bull, and I was thinking of you."

Your saving grace came in the form of the return of Coach Sylvester's voice, "Will Schuester, you've just been publicly humiliated. And on the road to recovery, it's the very first step."

Talk about your first class of the day.

Later that same day, the Glee Club and its director were hailed into the principal's office, ready for him to dish out the expected punishments.

"We're probably gonna get suspended."

"Second suspension of the year, and it's not even over yet!" you playfully celebrated, only to receive a scolding slap to your shoulder from Quinn in return, "Ow! Hurting me."

"I think you'll definitely get suspended," Mr Schue stated, "You'll probably all get suspended."

"Oh, you're one to talk. How about you crank a four loko, Count Boozy Von Drunk-a-thon?"

You had to speedily hide your snort at Santana's words as your principal entered at that exact moment behind you.

When he was finally behind his desk, the man spoke, "William. Glee club. I have one word for you... congratulations."

'What?'

"Those special effects at the assembly really paid off. I had no idea what brilliant musical-comedy performers you all have become."

Leaning over to Quinn, you whispered, "Is this guy for real?"

"The kids at this school are scared straight."

That was all you needed for your question to be answered. Whispering once more, "Yep." Then you moved back into your original position.

"Today is the first day in a month without a single act of public drunkenness at McKinley High!" Following in suit with the man, you applauded your surprising success. "And as a thank you, here are coupons for half-off frozen yoghurt. Yum!"

As Principal Figgins and Mr Schuester spoke in private, you held up the coupon Artie had handed you, flashing the Fabray a soft grin.

"Feel like grabbing some frozen yoghurt?"

She smiled back at you. "Sure."

"Okay. Achievement!"

"Achievement!"

You had no choice but to sit beside Quinn.

Literally.

The girl had her fingers wrapped into one of your jean loops since you exited the principal's office and headed for the choir room.

"I'm torn," Brittany said as soon as she sat down, "Part of me never wants to drink again because it made me so sick, but if it weren't for drinking, the assembly would've been a disaster."

"I, for one, am never drinking again," Rachel stated from the seat in front of yours, "Being thrown up on, it just does something to a person."

"All right, guys. While I'm happy things worked out with the assembly... I never want to see you guys pull anything like that again," Mr Schue spoke from the front of the class, "Drinking while performing is unprofessional. Drinking while at school is just stupid, and most importantly, any of you guys drinking at all is illegal."

"There's a fair amount of the pot calling the kettle back right now."

"Yeah." You nodded, agreeing with Quinn's statement. "Plus, I only did one of those things because I'm tough and can handle a hangover, unlike these weakens."

With a humoured smile, Quinn gently slapped your thigh.

"I couldn't agree more. Which is why I'm gonna stop drinking. Not even a beer at the end of the night to take the edge off."

"But if you don't drink, what will you have to live for?" Santana questioned.

"That's... really depressing. And a way that alcoholism can start."

"Exactly. I have plenty in my life without beer."

It was Mercedes' turn to ask a depressing question, "Like what exactly?"

Your brows ticked up when he silently stuttered in reaction to that question.

"The point is, I'm gonna stop. And I hope you guys do too."

"Isn't that kind of unrealistic?" Tina smiled.

"Yeah. Honestly, I think it is," he admitted truthfully, walking to pick up a McKinley High stamped manilla folder, "Which is why I'm only gonna ask you to do it until after Nationals. Consider yourselves like prize fighters, getting ready for a big heavyweight bout."

"I know I'd win!" you called, slapping at your biceps.

"I'm sure you would, Y/N," he chuckled while you continued to flex jokingly, wiggling your eyebrows at Quinn when you noticed the look she was giving you, only for the blonde to roll her eyes and turn away, intent on listening to the rest of the man's words, "Now. These are pledge forms." He raised the blue sheets of paper so that everyone could see. "And I want you guys to sign them."

"And what if we fall off the wagon again?" Puckerman asked.

Already prepared for that question, the teacher instructed, "Look in the top corner of your form. That's my cell phone number."

"Yes."

"Score!" Sam and yourself joked, gaining laughs from the team.

"Part of your pledge is that if one of you do slip up, no matter where you are or what time of the night it is, I want you to call me to drive you home. We got lucky this time that the only consequence of your drinking was some ill-timed vomiting. None of us wants to see any of you guys get hurt."

"Cool beans, Mr Schue. I'll sign."

""Cool beans"," you mocked Santana.

"Oh, shut up."

"Me too," Rachel spoke, "Alcohol has done nothing for my songwriting."

With that cocky smile on his face, Finn ventured a question over to the teacher, "What about after we win Nationals?"

After a pause for suspense, he replied, "I'm buying us sparkling cider."

A couple of minutes later, after waiting for Quinn to sign her name upon her own pledge and hand the pen over to you, you began to scrawl your own, "'Y/N'... should I put a middle name?" you asked the room, "Hey, Rach, what's my middle name?"

"You don't have one," she replied, confused that you don't remember something so basic about yourself.

Not taking that for an answer, you decided on putting one down anyway.

"'MacGyver'... 'Berry'."

"Why 'MacGyver'?" Quinn asked with a laugh.

To which you just shrugged and said, "Funny name."

---

"So, you said he comes this way at three thirty?"

You didn't know why you were here.

No. Correction, you did.

To support Rachel, to tell Kurt off it needed, for the delicious food, because she dragged you. So, it wasn't really your choice. There were a myriad of reasons.

You didn't want to be here.

But the muffin you were devouring sure made it a bit better.

"Like clockwork," Kurt nodded, "For his post-rehearsal medium drip."

"I just can't wait to lay one on him," Rachel said, adding more chapstick to her lips.

With your mouthful, you uttered, "Gross."

"You know what's gross?" she asked rhetorically, pointing to your chewing mouth, "That."

Very maturely, you opened your mouth, showing her the chewed-up contents within, sending a shiver through her.

"I've got a bad feeling about this, Rachel," Kurt started, once more, "I mean, I don't mean to be a scold, but I don't want you to get hurt either."

"I kinda agree with him," you spoke around another mouthful, pointing over to Kurt, "Just up and randomly kissing someone isn't always the best idea."

The boy sighed, leaning back in his chair, adding to his prior words, "There's no victory in this for me either way."

"Who cares about you, biddy?" she practically kissed over the table, "I may get a new boyfriend out of this, who can keep up with me vocally, and in the future, give me vaguely Eurasian-looking children."

"Okay... I will allow you to be bitchy to her once because of that," you told Kurt.

The boy quickly grew distracted, attention slowly upon the entrance of the coffee shop.

"There he is. Dreamy as ever."

"He is pretty good-looking." You nodded, peering at the other Warbler, before staring down at the last pieces of your sweet treat. "Is this muffin making me straight?"

Ignoring you entirely, Rachel whispered to your table, "Okay. Wish me luck."

Vaguely, you heard the boy greet your sister, "Hey, Rachel. What's going on?" Before he was cut off by her lips connecting with his own. Then once it finished, "Huh. Yep. I'm gay. One hundred per cent gay. Thank you so much for clearing that up for me, Rachel. Listen, save my space in line, will you? I gotta go hit the restroom."

Speedily finishing the last of your muffin, you followed Kurt over to your gobsmacked sister.

"That was hard, wasn't it?"

"Are you kidding?" she breathed, "That was amazing. I am speechless." Your brows furrowed at her gushing, having expected her to be at least somewhat heartbroken. "I just had a relationship with a guy who turned out to be gay."

"I don't think one date and two kisses counts as a relationship."

"That is songwriting gold. Oh!" she exclaimed, moving to kiss Kurt's cheek, then yours.

"Ugh," you sneered.

"Okay. I have to go compose, but thank you." She bounced in her place. "Thank you!"

Then she was off, exiting the Lima Bean, intent on writing a song you would be forced to hear over and over again as she worked on it.

Fantastic.

Leaving you alone with Kurt.

Brilliant.

"Listen, Y/N..." the boy started nervously, "I... I really want to say sorry for how I've been acting lately. I know there's no excuse for my words, but... you were right. I really was just jealous."

"I know." You nodded.

"This is the first crush I've had that could actually be feasible, and, I guess, I just couldn't handle anyone standing in the way of that, and it led me to say things I truly didn't mean- I'm not like that, I swear, I would never hate someone just for who they are, or think that their sexuality wasn't real. I can't even begin to explain why I acted that way. All I know is I'm sorry."

"I know that too." You nodded once more, reaching over to pat his back. "It's not my apology to accept. All you gotta do is show me that you mean what you say no, and continue to grow with it. But still, if you really wanna show me just how sorry you are, you can buy me one of those giant cookies I like."

Kurt laughed, relieved that things between the two of you were fine once more.

"You got it. I think I might have one, too."

"Hell yeah!"

Turns out your sister wasn't the only one having a date with a gay guy this week.

You were going to be seeing two when Blane came back.

-----

Prev Part | Next Part

#quinn fabray x reader #quinn fabray imagine #quinn fabray #original work #original fanfiction

[genderqueerpositivity]

May 17th is International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Interphobia, and Transphobia!

(Image description: an intersex inclusive progress pride flag with a transparent white square in the center, text inside the square reads "International Day Against Homophobia, Biphobia, Interphobia, and Transphobia"; above this is the date "May 17th, 2022" and below are the words "Take a stand against hatred and queerphobia.")

#queer #queerphobia #lgbtqia #op #q #genderqueerpositivity

[caeliangel]

If you don't mind explaining, what is BAB?

Sure thing!

The acronym bab stands for ;; battle axe bisexual.

The term battle axe bisexual is a term for bisexuals who fight and stand against biphobia. The term became really popular in 2018, and was originally created with no ill intent against other mspec sexualities and was even supportive of them! Although yes there is exclusionism among those spaces. I personally use the label to point out that I stand with bisexuals and will forever deffend them, along with the fact I hate separatism and will fight against it.

I just wish the term wasn't so known for the exlucionnists using it and rather for what it really stands for;; fighting biphobia, separatism and stereotypes that harm us! I need more inclus using it, my friends do but that's far from being enough to bring back its reputation.

What do you think of microlabels of bisexuality?

*Note. Bisexual is used like multisexual here. Bisexual is its own label but is also a label that encompasses many experiences ;; like mspec microlabels. Ie, I am NOT saying pansexuals aren't pansexual.

I think that pansexuality, omnisexuality, polysexuality, abrosexuality are all bisexual labels, or rather, more specific bisexual experiences. I think that all mspec labels are bi (as in MSPEC), but not all bisexuals are a specific mspec label, like Russian dolls! I believe multisexuality is broad and has as many definitions as there are bisexuals. [See bisexual manifesto] Some people will simply chose pansexuality and such because it communicates the specificity of their attraction better. For example, I could use the label pan, as I am genderblind, but I also feel like my bicycle sometimes makes me not be genderblind, so I stick with bi because it feels less limitating. Every reason to use x label is a good reason and should never be discussed.

#💌︰︵︵ letters

[wildwitchofthewest]

Really fast, you cannot be "pro aces/aros but only the LGBT ones".

NO, asexual, aromantic, and aroaces are queer.

Full stop.

It doesn't matter if they are also LGBT or not (cis and het)

Even if some are not, they will still face discrimination.

Sure, it's not the exact same discrimination, but it's just a different type.

Aphobia is real, and appears in many forms from:

"Jokes"

Being told they're broken and/or need a cure

The "A" stands for ally

Being told asexuality isn't real

Being told they have HSDD (a condition that's often used against asexuals for their lack of interest in sex)

Being told they're straight with extra steps

Being straight up raped or assaulted and also being subjected to an abusive relationship because of the other person's views on sex (the ace person owes them sex)

Being told they're not oppressed enough

If you're able to support LGBT aces who face this shit, you should also support aces who face this shit who are cis and het.

If you don't you're a part of the problem.

Also let's put this into perspective:

All my life, I thought I was straight.

Last year, I found out I'm asexual. (Here I wouldn't be considered queer enough)

Recently, I found out that I'm actually bi.

Biromantic.

So now all of a sudden, I'm queer enough? Let alone, that there's also biphobia?

Nope. I've always been queer enough.

There shouldn't be an Oppression Olympics.

Aces, aros, and aroaces, you are queer enough.

This year, this pride, we block aphobes on site. Don't engage, just block, we're sick of this bullshittery.

And if they double down and say some mean/cold hearted shit to you/harass you, report them.

You're valid.

You're are queer and here. We are queer and here.

#happy pride 🌈 #happy pride #pride #lgbtq+ #queer #we are queer and here #asexual pride #asexual #aromantic #aromantic pride #aroace #inclusionary #inclusionist #but most importantly stay safe

[tf2shipswag]

ok so first and foremost i dont agree with ppl being mean and insulting you because thats not how you get people to listen to what you have to say so i am sorry about the prev ppl immediately going to attack you but im not going to sit here and minimize their anger because its not baseless and they are well within their right to feel that way. im coming here to try and at least offer my view as a lesbian, which i doubt will do anything but its worth a shot i guess.

i dont agree with the implication that 'bi/mspec lesbian' labels are not harmful when they are fundamentally lesbophobic, biphobic, and transphobic from the talking points ive seen, and hurt us. implying that lesbians can feel attraction to men is the same rhetoric homophobes push onto us in real life to try and imply our sexuality is a phase and can be cured. "you just need to give men a chance." yk things of that nature. im not going to dive deep into the biphohia of it because i do not live the experience of a bisexual and i dont want to talk over bisexuals but i think it speaks for itself when people are so adverse to the label. you must ask yourself why are you so afraid to identify as bisexual? lesbianism has always included nonbinary, trans, gnc, and intersex people. and if its 'too restrictive' then it does not apply to you. lesbians do not and will not ever be attracted to men, i know its hard to believe but yes! people who arent attracted to men exist! we exist! i feel people are so angry and emotionally charged is because we are tired. tired of facing lesbophobia from outside and within the community. sorry for the long ask i tried to keep it short and concise. all i can say is please listen to actual lesbians.

hi, thank you for not being an ass an providing an actual argument, i very much appreciate that /gen. there genuinely is a horrid amount of lesbophobia, biphobia, and transphobia within the community. i know that there are a lot of arguments that the mspec label contributes to such. i just cannot get over the fact we are having fights like this within a community that is actively being attacked so heavily as a whole, especially right now.

your argument's reminiscent of the idea that the pan label is biphobic. genuinely, some people just identify with one label more than another, and sometimes people feel best defined by a combination of labels. even if the difference between the definition of bi and pan is miniscule to you, it might be big enough of a difference to someone else for it to matter.

it's not about "fear" of identifying as a certain label, sometimes it just doesn't. feel. right. once again! i could identify with bi, pan, omni, whatever label! but it's just not me. this has been said before, but nothing about identity is simple. feeling like we need to separate each other all into our own little boxes is incredibly isolating. the point of having this community to begin with, is so we all know that we're not alone.

everyone's just trying to live their lives. you genuinely seem like you have good intentions and god, i KNOW that this argument's tiring, and i can't imagine what it's like to deal with all the other arguments targeted against lesbians in particular, and i won't act like i'll ever understand the struggle with lesbophobic arguments, since i'm not a lesbian.

but people outside of the community are taking advantage of this argument even existing in order to make life worse for us as a whole, regardless of whatever label you choose to use. whether you're bi, a lesbian, or a bi lesbian, doesn't matter to the people passing bills against our rights and healthcare and protection. any difference to them is equally wrong. i'd rather stand against that idea as a whole than go along with it to suit whatever i'm trying to convey.

i just don't want to cause people to struggle to be themselves and live their lives simultaneously. majority of us have that same goal. even if we don't agree with each other along the way, at the end of the day, we all just want to feel safe and happy.

#not a poll #discourse

[aroaceconfessions]

I'm aroace and proud of it, even if my mom doesn't believe me, even if my brother, or other relatives don't believe me. But... Apparently, the reason behind the apocalypse or whatever they called it in Death Stranding, was because of "asexuals". I didn't buy the game as I had a bad feeling for whatever reason (probably because I don't like horror games and the trailers creeped me out) even though I wanted to support Kojima in showing 🖕 to Konami.

But... why... Aren't we standing up and saying that it's not okay for us to be treated that way? Someone said "it means something else", really? According to the game or someone involved? Because in the screenshots I saw it said "asexuals" as the cause. Are some of us suddenly evil as we don't like the process of making children? I know Japan has a low birthrate, I hate the "*pushes baby in your face* aren't babies cute? Don't you want one? Don't you want one?" genre with a passion, but painting us as evil by existing is outright aphobic...

Why are we letting people paint us as villains again and again? Ignoring us over allies in the LGBTQIA+? Calling us celibate because ace is apparently not good enough as we just "chose to be the way we are"? Erased by implied characters being forced together with a character with a crush on them (Teruhashi towards Saiki in Saiki K. recommended, even if some of the fandom is pretty aphobic) or called gay (Sherlock Holmes in the books and Light Yagami from Death Note, I know he's one evil stereotype) because they don't show sexual interest in women and not really men either but people tend to ignore that.

Even where I live, after the Conservative party voted against banning conversion therapy, then banned homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia (this after a series should have been cancelled in every way for how they treated a trans woman didn't meet any concequences) in media to seem nice, but nothing to stop aphobia... And they themselves come with jokes and worse about all 3 all the time, but get away with it as they are politicians...

I may be repulsed towards both, but as long as people don't force me into it, do not harm/take advantage of someone vulnerable or each other, and are happy together, people are free to do whatever they want in my opinion.

#arose #aroace #asexual #ace #aspec #acespec #aromantic #aro #arospec #aroacespec #aphobia #acephobia #Death Stranding #childfree #homophobia #heteronormativity #amatonormativity #allonormativity #conversion therapy

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Biphobia within the LGBTQ+ community is an unfortunate reality that bisexual individuals often face. Despite being part of the same overall community that advocates for acceptance and understanding, bisexual individuals may experience discrimination, misunderstanding, and erasure from both heterosexual and homosexual peers. Here are some key aspects of biphobia within the LGBTQ+ community:

1. Invalidation of Bisexual Identity: Bisexual individuals might be told that their sexual orientation is just a phase, that they are confused, or that they are simply seeking attention. This invalidation can be hurtful and dismissive of their lived experiences.

2. Stereotyping: Bisexual individuals may encounter harmful stereotypes, such as being seen as promiscuous, unfaithful, or unable to commit to a monogamous relationship. These stereotypes are not only offensive but also perpetuate misconceptions about bisexuality.

3. Bisexual Erasure: Bisexual individuals often face erasure, where their sexual orientation is overlooked or denied, both within the LGBTQ+ community and in broader society. This can lead to feelings of isolation and invisibility.

4. Bisexual Exclusion: In some cases, bisexual individuals might feel excluded from LGBTQ+ spaces or events, as if they don't fully belong to the community.

5. Double Discrimination: Bisexual individuals can experience discrimination from both heterosexual individuals and gay or lesbian individuals, which can create a unique and challenging position for them.

6. Assumption of Preference: Sometimes, bisexual individuals are assumed to have a preference for one gender over the other. For example, a bisexual woman might be assumed to be straight when dating a man or gay when dating a woman, depending on the partner at the time.

It's essential to remember that biphobia does not represent the views of all members of the LGBTQ+ community. Many LGBTQ+ individuals are supportive and accepting of their bisexual peers. However, addressing biphobia requires education, empathy, and active efforts to challenge stereotypes and promote inclusivity.

LGBTQ+ organizations and communities can play a crucial role in fostering understanding and acceptance within the community. Allies within the LGBTQ+ community and beyond can also stand up against biphobia and work towards building a more inclusive and united community for everyone.

#bisexuality #lgbtq community #lgbtq #bi #support bisexuality #pride #bi tumblr #bisexuality is valid #lgbtq pride #bi pride #bisexual #bisexual community #bi community #bisexual visibility #biphobia #end biphobia #biphobic gay people #bi men #bi people #bisexual education #bisexual info #bisexual facts #internalized biphobia

[bigxrig]

End of the year 11, 13, 20 🫶

Hello 🦑

11. Something you want to do again next year? I answered this already but I have so many things. I want to take my niece on another date just the two of us. She is going to be 5 in March and is so much fun. She's really matured in the past few months and can hold conversations. I want to spend more time with her.

13. How was your birthday this year? Well. Not great lol I turned 30 and went to a hockey game with my husband and his best friend. The hockey game was so much fun. It was an ATL Glads game and we were on the glass. I also got to fist bump the players coming onto the ice. I bought a replica of the 13 Going On 30 dress. It wasn't necessarily ruined but it turned sour because the best friend made some incredibly biphobic comments to me. And they were made in the car on the way to the game 🤓 defending myself against biphobia wasn't on my birthday plans.

20. What's something you learned this year? To stand up for myself and not explain myself when the other person clearly doesn't want to listen. Also, since turning 30 I'm too young and too old to not dress how I want to! If I want to wear my elf ears to Walmart I'm going to! Who cares!

[funnyanimalguy]

hey totally get if this looks like a bait ask so feel free to not answer lol just not sure where I can ask this without 13 yr Olds trying to dox me but what exactly is the context behind bi lesbians? I know it's a identity with historical context, also assuming the spilt attraction can come into play. Just wondering if you have resources or hell followers that can inform me if I'm missing something

no worries at all anon! i think it is good that you are open to learn :o) this will probably get slightly wordy...so you can just scroll down to the links if you prefer.

 i’ll start with a disclaimer that i am not an mspec lesbian myself, nor am i a lesbian or sapphic, and i do think getting info about a label from someone who uses it is more valuable. also worth noting i was born in the 2000s and don't have lived experience with queer spaces prior to that.

however, i do have some resources and knowledge because i hyperfixated pretty strongly on queer history and labels last year! 

firstly, you are totally correct that being using the split attraction model/being varioriented is a common reason for someone to identify as an mspec lesbian. - for example: “pansexual homoromantic” or “biromantic lesbian”.

the other most prevalent reason to consider is how the word “lesbian” itself, and the community surrounding it, has changed over time and not only ever had a singular, static meaning.

“lesbian” and “sapphic” are both derived from Sappho of Lesbos and were essentially synonyms until around the 70s or 80s (i think) …and even then, the community was split on if mspec women could be/were lesbians or a part of the lesbian community.

a lot of people would accredit this shift to the biphobia present in the radical lesbian feminist movement, specifically lesbian separatism (&lt;-wikipedia link). this is a specific movement within radical feminism that took off in the 70s, and related "only (with) women who cut their ties to male privilege". in layman's terms… they saw women who had Any sort of relationship with “biological males” (platonic, familial, sexual) as traitors and participants in the patriarchy. as such, they outcast bi women for sleeping with the enemy, so to speak. (this is ofc, a simplified and potentially biased interpretation based on the texts that i have read).

^ if that sounds a lot like modern-day TERFs… that's because the modern day TERF is the predecessor to the anti-”male” and anti-trans radfems of the 70s-90s.

OK now here are links:

-THIS CARRD has explanations as well as texts/excerpts which show the historical presence of the "bi lesbian" identity

-THIS POST by @posi-pan has a lot of exerpts/further reading as well

- EDIT: the #explanation and #history tags on @bi-lesbian are somewhere you could look too

and this pic

*note that i’ve mostly used “mspec” instead of “bi” here in order to be more broad, but the explanations work either way. for those unaware, “mspec” stands for “multisexual spectrum” or “multi-attracted spectrum”. AKA bi, pan, omni, etc. AKA the “bi umbrella”. AKA attracted to more than one gender. (you may notice that, ironically, the definition of “lesbian” that people who are *against* bi lesbians accept -”attraction to nonmen”- actually falls under this)

#quacks #bi lesbian #bi lesbians #mspec lesbian #mspec lesbians #sapphic #lgbtq history #long post #< sorry #📥