genderfluid problems: you would think that on a more masculine day, finding something to wear would be easier, but nope you have to change your shirt more than you usually do because you have to find one that doesn’t show off your boobs
sometimes i feel like i need a shirt that says YES HELLO I LIKE GIRLS AND ALSO BOYS AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN because i feel like it would not only help me pick up cuties but would also be a great way for me to come out to my family
It kinda sucks… when it turns out you are probably the only person out of you and your friends looking forward to a new comic series.
Like me with Agent of Asgard >3>;;
As far as I know, none of my other friends are looking forward to it.
And I am just like, “Fine then. I will just stay in my little fandom corner.”
And just ajdjdjsnsjsnjsnalsjdke… Blegh. Fuck eet.
Warning: These stories all revolve around an AU world where Kurt and Blaine both have serious mental health disorders and end up rooming together at a boarding school geared towards special education. I work in mental health, so I’m familiar with this stuff and will try to be as accurate as possible, but please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. There will be some angsty parts and some happy parts and many parts that are in-between, and I don’t have a definitive plan in mind other than a happy ending.
Also, Kurt and Blaine are in the same grade here, both juniors.
This part is PG, 2317 words
July 2011 ~ Jukebox
Their home had so many things that were put there just for Blaine—the baby grand piano he had struggled to learn to play. The old jukebox, loaded with classics from the fifties and sixties. The “play corner” they put together for him when he was little, which he’d made use of for far longer than most children would. It hadn’t held his interest for a few years now, but they hadn’t taken it down.
If she had her way, they never would.
Pamela had known her son would be special from the moment she learned of his existence. Henry had been content with only Cooper, and she’d had to be crafty to conceive again. When it finally happened, she was thirty-eight and her son was eleven; her husband was angry, but she wouldn’t hear a word against her child. Blaine had been her treasure, her precious miracle, from the very start.
The fact that he’d been born a little more special than she’d anticipated hadn’t changed that. In fact, a part of her rejoiced in the knowledge that this boy would surely never leave her, never grow up.
“Pam, what are you talking about?” Lily turned her head to look at Pam sprawled out on her bedroom floor.
Lily had come home exhausted from a day of shooting and collapsed into her bed, only moving to place Ollie in his customary position over her legs. Pam had texted asking if she wanted food, and Lily accepted, not so much because she was in the mood to socialize, but because the idea of having delicious food delivered straight to her bed was impossible to turn down. Pam had shown up twenty minutes later with wraps from Lily’s favorite restaurant and, bless her, cupcakes from the gluten-free bakery down the road. Lily had scarfed down the food and then lay back down on the bed, watching the shadows the fan made on her ceiling, while Pam looked at things on her phone.
“You asked me how many movies it was possible for two people to star in together. And the first couple I thought of was Fred and Ginger, who, according to IMDB, starred in 10 films together.”
“Oh, god. We’re half way there,” Lily groaned.
Would this be her legacy? No one would ever remember her for her own merit. It would always be “Lily and James.” The red haired beauty and the dark haired, quirky boy who shared names with another popular literary couple. Who were always a couple, sharing epic kisses in the rain. The damn rain, every time, Lily fumed to herself. Except it wouldn’t even be “Lily and James,” would it? Twitter and tumblr and every other stupid social media site had dubbed them “Jily.” She wouldn’t even get to have her full name remembered!
“No!” Lily clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say anything out loud.
“No, what?” Pam asked.
“I can’t do any more films with him, Pam, I just can’t.”
“What do you mean? Of course you can!” Pam cried.
“No, I can’t. No one’s going to remember me. I’ll be Jily for the rest of eternity!”
“So it’s not because you don’t actually want to work with James again?” Pam asked.
“What?” Lily shot her friend a weird look. Why was she getting so worked up? “No. I mean, he’s infuriating, but we work together fine. I guess. I would never let one actor scare me away from a project I really wanted to do. I just want people to remember me for me.”
“Oh, Lil, you don’t have to worry about that! You’re brilliant! You will have incredible, Oscar-worthy roles that have nothing to do with James Porter. But I don’t think you have to go swearing off projects with him just yet.”
Lily smiled. “Thanks, Pam.”
“No problem,” Pam replied, typing away on her phone.
“Who are you texting so intently?” Lily asked curiously.