So Guys I Got This Idea, And I Know Its Not Pride Month Anymore, But During June I Didnt Have Any Time

so guys I got this idea, and I know its not pride month anymore, but during june i didnt have any time because of tests and shit, so Im asking now if you would want this: i would write a short story about one sexuality or gender. i dont know if every day, but ill try. you guys can comment what gender/sexuality you want next. would you like that?

this is also a way for me and other people to get to know the lgbtqia+ comunity better, sooo let me know :)

Yeah, thanks

Soo I wrote another story. Enjoy :3

I wrote him a letter. Did he read it? I would love to know.

A week has passed, and he didn't write back. Not even a fucking word. 

I see him in school, but he ignores me. After that week I'm beginning to question if he even got my letter. But I can see it in his face. He got it. The looks he gives me, and how he quickly turns away the second our eyes meet. 

The problem is. I will continue to see him in practice, in school, and in our neighborhood. He can't ignore me forever. And that's the problem. I can't ignore him. Not after that letter.

I beat myself up for sending it, for even writing it. But, at the same time, it would have been written, some day. I wouldn't resist the urge to let him know. 

I also couldn't tell it in his face. Writing a letter that would explain it all was the best idea I had. 

But then there is a knock on my door.

My dad walks in, sees me wearing my headphones, and just throws a letter on my bed. He smiles, leaves my room, and I stare at the envelope, waiting a few minutes before opening it as if it could explode. 

When I finally opened it, its short. Too short for my liking.

I read the only sentence there is. I read it again and again. Not angry. Not sad. Not happy. Just…

I start to nod my head. "I understand,” I whisper, like he could hear me. 

The letter said: “Im sorry, but im asexual.”

I don't need to look up the meaning behind it. As a raging homosexual, I know everything. But…

I grab my pen and a paper, and start to write: “Ok, yeah, I understand. But still, can we talk, please? If you agree, meet me on the drug bench after lunch.”

The drug bench got its name after two teachers were caught selling students marihuana. From then on, everyone started to meet up there or some drugs. And it's the only place everyone knows where is.

I write the letter, run out of my house and grab my bike. I know his address, but he's in practice now. (I'm not because of my stupid sister I have to babysit. But when you give her a calculator and a plastic knife, she will be entertained for hours.) 

I cycle all the way to his house, and stick the envelope in his mailbox. I cycle fastly away, before someone can see me. 

I don't eat my lunch the next day. I run to the drug bench, sit on the backrest and wait. I wait for five minutes, but then I see him, walking down the school park. I wave, he waves back. I can't help but smile. 

"Hey,” I say. 

He just nods and sits beside me, but avoids eye contact. 

"Listen,” I start, "I understand you. But…still. Asexual doesn't mean to be unable to feel romantic attraction. I'm just…I really don't care about sex and those things. But if you don't want to be with me, I understand. It's just that…I understand.” 

He looks at me. I look at him. 

We sit there. It's just a while. But I could sit there and look in his eyes for way longer.

"I-” he starts, but then stops himself, and looks down again. "I…what's your sexuality?”

"Gay as fuck,” I say.

"Well. Im genderfluid.”

I blink. "Then Im bi as fuck.”

He looks up again, not saying anything.

Then the bell rings. Both of us are still sitting there, not flinching a bit. 

And then tears start pouring down his cheeks. He starts to sob. "I-”

I don't say anything, just scoop myself closer to him and hug him. I know how stressful it can be. Coming out to people. 

"Am I the first one you told?”

He nods. "The only one who knows I'm ace and genderfluid.”

"Supporting family?”

He shakes his head. 

I grab his face in my arms, wiping away his tears. "Its okay. You have me now. We can talk.”

"It's just that…I thought no one would want me. Because I'm ace and shit…People now care just about sex.”

"Well, I don't. And I don't care what gender you are, how you express yourself. The thing I like about you is your personality. Even though youre a piece of fucking art.” 

He laughs, brushing his hands against mine. Someone from faroff yells some slurs at us, but I flip them off. 

"I liked…like you too. Have been for some time now but…you're like the straightest looking guy I know.”

I groan. "Ugh. I know! People at the pride parade are always giving me weird looks.”

He smiles for a second, then his smile disappears again. "I thought no one would want me. That something is wrong with me. That I'm broken. And then I found out i'm genderfluid and my whole world started to fall down and my family is the most controversial thing in the universe and then im fucking omni and-”

"It just sucks, I know.” I nod.

I let him put his head on mine.

"By the way, what pronouns do you use?”

"Eh, haven't figured that out yet.” 

I ruffle his golden hair. "Don't worry. I'll help you.” 

He smiles at me. "Yeah…thanks.”

We skipped school that day. We went to my parents house, talked for hours. I helped him discover himself, or I did everything I could to help. 

See guys? It's not that hard.

Hope you guys liked it :))

@cmchill okay!! ill try to post a demiromantic story today :))

so guys I got this idea, and I know its not pride month anymore, but during june i didnt have any time because of tests and shit, so Im asking now if you would want this: i would write a short story about one sexuality or gender. i dont know if every day, but ill try. you guys can comment what gender/sexuality you want next. would you like that?

this is also a way for me and other people to get to know the lgbtqia+ comunity better, sooo let me know :)

Our first kiss

I had the craving to write something comforting and cute, so heres a little story :)

Our first kiss was…wet.

No, really. We were standing under a canopy, it was raining hard, and the canopy couldn't make it. It broke down, the water splashing on us. It wasnt romantic at all. But it was an iconic kiss. It represented our lives so well. Something beautiful happening, ruined. But not at all, at the same time. The water made us a memory we would never forget. Me and you. You and me. Under the broken canopy, wet as if someone sent Poseidon himself on us, laughing our asses off.

We went to hide in a coffee shop. We were far away from our homes, both in a new country. We sat near the fire, ordered hot chocolate and talked for three hours straight.

I remember the soft music playing in the background, and when the Queen popped up, we both shut up. We were listening to Freddy Mercury sing “Love of my Life”, and it seemed so peaceful. When the song ended, we continued, as if we weren't silent for three whole minutes.

We talked about everything. How much time we liked each other, about the future, our likes and dislikes, or about complete bullshit, like Eurovision.

We then walked out. It wasn't raining anymore, and someone fixed the canopy. We went to a bookshop after. We both liked reading. We bought each other a book the other would like, and then sat there again, now with a cup of tea, reading. You bought me “Looking for Alaska”, and I loved it. I bought you “The Song of Achilles” since I knew you liked Greek mythology back then. You loved it too, and we both read the books in one sitting.

Then we walked, and talked. We walked everywhere, not paying attention to where we were walking. We ended up in your apartment. You made us coffee. We shared other gentle kisses on your old couch, but dry this time. We talked, curled up in different positions, none uncomfortable.

We fell asleep.

I woke up to the smell of eggs and orange juice. You made us breakfast. I told you I could get used to that. You said you could get too, with a smile.

Jesus, your smile. I would kill for it. It always looked genuine.

You needed to draw, and I had a lot of free time. You drew me. I have that picture still hanging on my wall.

I was just sitting on a chair, reading a book with a wine glass in my hand. I think I know that page from my memory until now. “It was a nice day. All the days have been nice.”

The time spent on that chair was so worth it. It may have given me scoliosis, but it was so, so worth it. And you were so proud of it. Of me. Of yourself.

Our first kiss made us stay together for this long. Our kiss made us have memories. It made us us. It made us go under that same canopy every year, on the same day, and repeat our date.

We might be old now. But our memories will never age, never disappear. At least they will never disappear from my head, love.

Our first kiss was maybe wet, not in a way we would like, but it made us stay. Can you imagine, if it didn't go like that? If we wouldn't have a memory like that?

But it did. It was wet, it was laughable, it made us sick. But not of each other.

I dont know how to feel about this, but it made me smile, so maybe it will make you smile too :)

My rambling

My trip 1

My trip 2

Weird homophobe on uquiz

PRIDE MONTH

Homophobic girls

Apology and my cat

An idea

My viber channel

Been thinking about shit

hell no you dont have to!! ❤️❤️

Like/reblog if you think that you don't need to medically transition to be transgender