pls give me 1(one) reason aces have ever been oppressed, and 1(one) example of aces being a part of lgbt history(before 2004 at least) and then maybe i’ll consider the idea that aces belong in the lgbt community lol
Proof of the existence of asexuals in LGBT+ communities before 2000:
The Golden Orchid association (1644-1949) - a group of women in China that included lesbians, bisexuals, and “women who wanted to avoid both marriage options, and any romantic or sexual partnership” that today we would call asexual or aromantic.
Another Golden Orchid association link (which, interestingly, describes what appears to be a poly relationship).
Personal experience of a queer-identifying person noting that aces were part of the bi community in the 80s and 90s.
A book published in 1999 supports the previous link of someone’s personal experience, and notes that asexuals could be considered part of Kinsey’s “Group 3″ (the bisexuals) because they were “about equally homosexual and heterosexual” and “have no strong preferences for one or the other” just like bisexuals.
Another book that supports the personal experience source by noting that asexuals were considered part of the bisexual “Group 3″, which was published in 1999.
Another post of someone’s personal experiences of asexuals being part of the LGBT+ community in the 90s.
A source from 1999 noting that, while some female-female relationships in the early to mid-twentieth century were obviously lesbian relationships, not all of them were, but that it would be a mistake to label them all “friendships”. It specifically notes that asexual partnered relationships also existed.
This book describes a series of interviews done in 1990 by Catherine Whitney who interviewed heterosexual women married to gay men, and found that they were often asexual. It also describes how, in 1990, Ann Landers (a very popular advice columnist) asked her readers if married couples could enjoy a full life without sex and was flooded with 35,000 responses from people of all ages who had little or no sex and didn’t miss it. It also describes how “Boston marriage” was originally coined with a not-necessarily-always-accurate implication that such a relationship between women was nonsexual, but that later on the assumption was reversed to imply women in a sexual lesbian relationship, and how that caused some women involved in such relationships to hide the asexual nature of their relationships for fear of being called frauds by the larger lesbian community.
This 1997 book that states “To be a Kinsey 3 (bisexual) is to be equally attracted to men and women, i.e. completely bisexual…it is also to be equally unattracted to men and women, i.e. completely asexual. Bisexuality is never about two, only about one – asexual, or self-fulfilling – or three – continuously and equally attracted to both men and women”.
Proof of asexuality being considered as a concrete, distinct orientation before 2000:
One of the first online posts about asexuality in its current use, was made in 1997.
A study on anorexia and bulemia in gay and bisexual men done in 1999 found that 58% of anorexia patients were asexual.
The 1997 Australasian Gay & Lesbian Law Journal mentions asexual as a “relevant sexual identity”.
A 1983 issue of the Journal of Sex Research studied the Mental Health Implications of Sexual Orientation among heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, and asexual people.
The article “Asexuality as Orientation: Some Historical Perspectives” describes different historical studies on asexuality, including a study from Johnson in 1977 where the word asexual was used to describe women “regardless of physical or emotional condition, actual sexual history, and marital status or ideological orientation, [who] seem to prefer not to engage in sexual activity”. It also describes a 1980 study by Storms who included asexual as one of four orientation categories when mapping out sexual orientation. It also describes a 1983 study by Nurius that found out of 685 participants, 5% of males and 10% of females were asexual. It also describes a 1990 study by Berkley et al. that included questions “related to homosexuality, heterosexuality, and asexuality” and included four items (out of 45) that were specific to asexuality.
This book published in 1922 contains a lot of what I personally would describe as narcissism and pseudo-science, but acknowledges asexuality nonetheless: “In addition to the ordinary distinctive males and females, we have asexuals, homosexuals, bisexuals, and old women of both sexes.”
This book from 1996 that notes “A transsexual may have a heterosexual orientation, a homosexual orientation, a bisexual orientation – or an asexual orientation” and clarifies that “a very small number – are asexual or bisexual.”
This book mentions a study by Malyon in 1981 that noted the options available to gay and lesbian teenagers choosing whether, or how, to come out by “[describing] three possible modes of adaptation in adolescence: repression of sexual desire, suppression of homosexual impulses in favor of heterosexual or asexual orientation, or a homosexual disclosure.”
Kinds of oppression that asexuals face:
Eunjung Kim wrote a chapter titled “How Much Sex Is Healthy? The Pleasures of Asexuality” that describes how “the absence of sexual desires, feelings, and activities is seen as abnormal and reflective of poor health” in Western contemporary culture “because of the explicit connection between sexual activeness and healthiness” and argues that “medical explanations of asexuality as an abnormality that has to be corrected constitute a large part of the stigmatization and marginalization experienced by asexual people.” It also discusses the ways in which some groups, specifically Asian American males, that are desexualized can erase the space for asexual Asian American men to simply exist.
Asexuals also face sexual harassment, rape threats, corrective sexual assault, and corrective rape (which, no, is not a lesbian-only term according to actual South Africans) specifically because they are asexual.
There was a recent study by the AAU to identify sexual assault on college campuses, and broke down the responders to their survey by sexual orientation, including asexual. The results clearly show that asexuals are not immune to unwanted sexual contact, stalking, intimate partner violence, or sexual harassment.
A chapter of “Asexualities: Feminist and Queer Perspectives” that notes the specific way that asexual people are talked to/about: “Because asexual difference cannot be iterated in the linguistic field where sex and a sexed position dominate the discourse of sexuality and desire, the asexual subject is linguistically and visually dismantled and reconstructed in the position of a fetish object. This fetishistic conversion happens because the asexual person is made into an image, or spectacle, for consumption.” and “The difference between the unassailable asexual (someone who lacks all of the traits commonly blamed for asexuality such as past history of abuse, disability, etc.) and the spectacular asexual is that while the unassailable asexual allegedly makes asexuality digestible for a skeptical public and presents an accessible image, the spectacular asexual is always consumed as a fetish object, regardless of mental health, ability, and gender.”
The study “Intergroup bias toward “Group X”: Evidence of prejudice, dehumanization, avoidance, and discrimination of asexuals” is exactly what it sounds like. The article’s abstract states: “In two studies (university student and community samples) we examined the extent to which those not desiring sexual activity are viewed negatively by heterosexuals. We provide the first empirical evidence of intergroup bias against asexuals (the so-called “Group X”), a social target evaluated more negatively, viewed as less human, and less valued as contact partners, relative to heterosexuals and other sexual minorities. Heterosexuals were also willing to discriminate against asexuals (matching discrimination against homosexuals). Potential confounds (e.g., bias against singles or unfamiliar groups) were ruled out as explanations.”
The Invisible Orientation: An Introduction to Asexuality describes many issues that asexuals face, including: how asexuality is seen as “invisible” and lends to people thinking it does not exist, how asexuality is actively erased as “unimportant” or not its own identity, the explicitly and implicitly negative messages associated with a lack of sexual attraction, the fear asexuals face when they believe there is something physically or psychologically wrong with them for being asexual, the belief asexuals face about how they must be deeply flawed since they do not conform to other sexual identities, how asexuals face cultural ideologies that sexuality is biologically based and ubiquitous (that all humans possess sexual desire) and that don’t acknowledge asexuality, that to describe oneself as asexual is a statement of moral superiority or purity or failure to find a suitable partner, that asexuality is an immature state they will “grow out of”, that asexuality is a description of action or a preference, that asexuality is unnatural or unhealthy or has to be a symptom of something else, etc.
Asexuality has been shown in the media in a negative light for decades, reflecting the idea that (for various reasons steeped in classism and racism) any woman who wasn’t willing to marry and procreate was a threat to the status quo, as seen in this 1955 book that notes: “Women who did not marry incurred political and social scorn for another reason. The influx of eastern and southern European immigrants in the United States pushed the question into eugenic terms–the wrong people were reproducing. Educated women came primarily from white middle- and upper-class stock, the most desired element by dominant social norms. When these women refused to marry and reproduce, they forced a new concern into the public discourse. it is not a coincidence that the stereotypical asexual unmarried older woman emerged at this time as a source of popular humor.”
Some people in some religions are very explicit about hating asexuals specifically because they are asexual, seeing asexuality as “a perversion akin to homosexuality and bestiality”.
Other religions see asexuals as actually sinful if they choose not to have sex with their spouse.
While not every member of every religion looks down on asexuals, many people in portions of various religions choose to view asexuals negatively.
Some people even recommend asexuals avoid being in a relationship with non-asexuals and assert that “promoting and trying to spread” asexuality, or behaving in an asexual manner, is wrong or unhealthy.
Because of these religious beliefs about asexuality, that also opens up asexuals to discrimination in various legal ways, including (but not limited to) things like the new adoption bill in Texas.
Asexuality was implicitly pathologized until very recently, and even now, the DSM-V states that a diagnosis of HSDD may not be given only if the patient has a preexisting knowledge of asexuality and chooses to ID that way.
TL;DR:
Asexuals have long been considered part of the bisexual community. When people used to talk about bisexuals, it included asexuals because asexuals were the bisexuals too. Bisexual history is asexual history.
Asexuals have also long been considered as a stand-alone orientation that was part of larger non-straight communities and could be studied in comparison to other sexual orientations.
Asexuals face many of the same issues that other marginalized orientations face as well as issues specific to their orientation. These include erasure, medicalization, misidentification, harassment, rape specifically targeted at them for being asexual, and religious intolerance, to name just a few.
None of this is exhaustive. There are more sources to be found and studied.
I have to note as a historian that refusing to marry and have kids has been pretty much frowned on in virtually every society. A few socities had some kind of out, but that usually meant being bound in other ways (being some kind of holy ascetic and cloistered). This pretty much runs from the moment we know anything about any society to the present.,
There’s always been pressure on asexuals to conform to that norm.
My Shane is an enabler. He’s gonna roll his eyes and tell ilya to fuck himself, but he loves that shit. He’s icing Ilya injuries after a fight barely hiding the fact that he found it funny. He’s providing information for chirps. He’s joining in on the fun cause he loves his husband. Idk man I just don’t think Shane, who fell in love with the NHLs biggest asshole is gonna be annoyed when he’s being an asshole.
She's nice and objectively very beautiful, but that's where it ends. His last failed date was at least into baseball - something they could pass the time with after realizing they weren't gonna be A Thing. But tonight...Christ.
They also won’t be A Thing, only it’s obvious in less of a 'haha oh well - anyway did you catch that save in the fifth inning' way and more of a '...........' way, on account of the fact that Shane's blasted through all his prepared talking points, and now has nothing to do but notice all the other elements of the evening that continue to taunt him.
The soup is a weird consistency. The little candle at their table snuffed out fifteen minutes ago, sitting dead beside the clump of lettuce he somehow managed to drop between the bowl and his plate. There's a tiny bit of brussels sprout caught between his lower back molars that's driving him fucking crazy, refusing to be dislodged by each subtle poke of his tongue.
And he thinks, maybe, that he wouldn't care so much about this trainwreck of an evening if he didn’t feel like it’s being broadcast to the rest of the restaurant. Not that people are watching, really. Just one. Just the mean looking security guy who's posted up on the back wall, keeping an eye on the room with an easy, almost bored gaze that somehow keeps landing at Shane's table.
Or...well...less Shane's table, and more just Shane himself.
The restaurant is drenched in dim mood lighting, so he can't be positive it's a look of pity this guy's giving him. But realistically, he's not sure what else it could be. Shane's blowing it, after all. Hard. This whole thing has turned into some sort of lowkey humiliation ritual, each pass of the guy's attention over him causing heat to crawl up the back of his neck.
Whatever. They're about halfway done with their entrees. And he's willing to bet she won't be taking the dessert menu when it comes around, which is fine by him. They’re in the home stretch.
Shane wipes his mouth with the weirdly scratchy cloth napkin. Pokes his tongue at his lower molars as he goes for his glass of wine. Can't help but flick his attention over to the back wall, warmth settling in his belly as he takes in, not for the first time, how that black uniform shirt snugly stretches over a tight chest, sleeves clinging around big biceps. Security guy works out. Obviously. He's a fucking security guy. And he's looking right at Shane again, just close enough to catch how his eyes dip down the front of Shane's dress shirt and then back up.
It's got something fluttering in Shane's chest as he pulls his gaze away, bringing his wine glass right back up before he can set it down again. Right. Okay.
"Are you nearby?"
They’re the first words out of his date's mouth in what feels like twenty minutes, and to be quite fucking honest it throws Shane, his brow pinching in light confusion.
"Sorry?" Such a hot thing to say. He couldn't be nailing this more, could he?
"Your place..." she says again, and there's this insistence in it that finally gets the cobwebbed wheels turning, "is it close?"
Shane blinks.
Schools a quick lift of his eyebrows before they can fly up.
Oh.
She thinks-...
"Uh..." Right, right right. "Yeah, about...half hour maybe?"
So, no.
That doesn't seem to deter her. She simply nods, then goes back to eavesdropping on the date that's going much better at the table behind her.
They’re laughing it up back there. Clinking their glasses. There’s lots to laugh about here too, but it’d be in a pathetic way that he just can’t get himself to concede to yet. So, Shane tops off his date’s glass. Eats his salmon. Shakes off the little flutter of interest that skips from his chest down into his lap as he once again catches eyes with security guy, who seems to be finding this all very entertaining. Doesn’t seem mean at all, actually. The more Shane looks. The more he looks back.
More wine. They’re finishing the bottle. His date thanks him and is, to her credit, being very cool about how the metaphorical candle has clearly snuffed out between them before their meal is even done. Now they just need to get on the same page about metaphorical dessert.
Shane takes a gigantic swig, letting it sit in his mouth for a second before gulping it down - warm, warm, warm in his belly.
She thinks he’s gonna take her home and fuck her.
Maybe he should. To make it up to her.
Except Shane hasn’t been hitting any homeruns on those lately either, has he?
Fuck.
The bottom of his wine glass clatters loudly against the edge of his plate as he sets it down too rough, movements suddenly unsteady. It pulls attention from all around, because of course it does. Everyone look at the idiot who can't hold his alcohol.
What a nightmare. Security guy must be fucking loving this one.
But when he glances over, the wall is empty. No silent, teasing eyes. No intriguing presence. No muscles, thick and sturdy and big enough that Shane could really put up a-
“Be back.”
In a single blink, his date has pulled herself up from the booth and made her way towards the bathroom, already digging into her purse without looking back.
Right. Actually, a break to reset sounds better than any dessert they could offer him here. So, with a little nod to inform their server that he’ll be back too, he gathers himself and steps away from the table.
It's not until the cool October breeze washes over Shane's face that he realizes how warm he was getting.
Probably from the wine.
And the embarrassment.
And the impending doom settling in his guts, another realization not too far behind.
Whatever, he decides, using the privacy to slip a finger into his mouth and finally free his molars of the offensive feeling - thank god. Stupid brussels sprouts. They weren't even cooked right.
It's dark around the back of the restaurant. Nice and quiet too, tucked away from the busy road out front. Shane takes in the moment with a grounding tip of his head toward the moon with his eyes closed. Deep breath. Hold it. Don't think about why all his dates with women have been absolute dogshit. Aaaaand release.
Only when he breathes out, it's not alone.
He breathes out, and it's paired, horrifyingly, with a gentle huff of laughter from further down the building. The smell of fresh cigarette smoke.
Holy shit, he’s not alone.
Shane attempts to settle the startle in his heart, but it's no use when he turns to see the figure leaning up against the brick wall, those familiar eyes now watching him in the cool moonlight.
"Jesus Christ..." It slips out. Just on the end of Shane's breath. And suddenly he could really use another cool breeze for his face.
Because the security guy is as imposing as he was inside, simply trading moody burgundy for darkened brick. But his face is softer up close. Sweeter, somehow. And very, very handsome.
Shane tears his gaze away the second those lips curl into a teasing grin, shaking his head. All that red wine is really doing a number on him.
“When is big day?”
Oh god, his voice is deep.
Shane’s gotta get it together. And yet, it’s impossible to keep from being drawn right back into that grin, even as he seeks clarification. “Big day?”
“Mm, your wedding,” he says, nodding casually back inside without looking away. “Love at first sight, yes?”
It's...
Okay, so he really is an asshole. And what’s that accent? Russian?
Shane hangs his head, but can't hold back the breathy chuckle that falls from him. No use in denying it, he guesses. Especially when he kinda wants to hear this guy talk to him some more. "Really funny stuff, man..."
"Mm."
"Won’t haveta worry about a wedding gift, at least."
"Oh, no? You were doing so well."
Something weirdly giddy flips through Shane's chest as he straightens to throw the security guy a look. Because now that it's just the two of them, he's out here openly fucking with him. And Shane knows that. So why is it making his body light up from head to toe?
It's the wine probably. Sweet red historically gets him acting stupid. Or maybe it's the way the guy holds Shane so comfortably in his attention, as he draws his cigarette up to his lips to take a lazy drag.
Shane swallows. Wets his bottom lip. Pulls his heavy gaze up from the glowing tip to meet those intriguing, sparkling eyes as smoke fills the air between them.
Wow.
"I uh-... I'm usually...better..." he hears himself say. The short noise of curiosity floating on the smoke’s coattails prompts him to clarify. "I like-...you know...have game."
It's not a lie. And yet Shane has somehow never felt more stupid than he does in this moment, the need to clarify to this man that he's not actually a loser suddenly very very important to him.
Which is why his body doesn't know what the fuck to do when it's getting hit by that smile again. That tease. The sweetly shitty headnod he gets as the guy gives him a little "Mm...okay."
Oh god Shane wants... Much more than he wanted when he was sitting across from his literal date. "Alright, fuck you..."
It shouldn't be this easy. He shouldn't be smiling so big with a stranger. Playing so much.
He should go inside. Capitalize on this feeling and use it to turn his date around.
Or he could stay right here, feet planted to the asphalt, acknowledging the wanting tug of his own body.
If he moves right now, it’s not gonna be in the direction of the door.
“What is your name.”
Shane swallows, nostrils flailing with a big breath in. “Shane…?” He watches, with another one of those flutters under his rib cage, as his answer seems to satisfy. And before he can stop himself he hears it - from his own mouth - each word clung with the worst Russian accent possible. “What ees your name?”
Oh god what the fuck. He’s never touching red wine again.
Not even the genuine grin curling across those tempting lips can make up for the embarrassment - the laughter. “Wow. This is your best try?”
“No,” Shane insists over a scowl. And to be honest he doesn’t even know what he’s answering. His best accent? No. His best attempt at flirting? Also no.
Wait a minute. Is he flirting?
“I’m-… I should go back. …inside.” Never mind how something’s kicking and screaming in him at the thought. Never mind how he stays exactly where he stands.
A concept not lost on security guy. Who never did actually give him his name, by the way. “Okay, Shane.”
It’s noticeably kinder than he could be. He’s still teasing, obviously, but he says nothing about his date. No predictions on how the rest of his night will go. He just brings his cigarette up to his lips, pulling in a hit that hollows his cheeks in the dark as he keeps their eye contact.
It’s the first time Shane’s ever craved nicotine.
He needs to go inside bad.
With a huff, he pulls his phone out of his pocket. Half past eight. He has no idea how long he’s been out here. Only that it’s too long when he’s got someone waiting at the table for him. So they can pay. So they can leave. So they can-…
Shane shifts uncomfortably, jaw squaring. And he’s not exactly sure how he lets it slip out, but it does all the same, the question far too genuine for the situation. “How do I tell her I’m not gonna fuck her?”
It’s the setup of a lifetime. The perfect pitch for a grand slam. And yet the man in front of him doesn’t swing.
No. Instead, he keeps Shane in his sights, eyes roaming up and down the blush hopefully hidden by the shadows back here. And then he answers. “Simple. You tell her you are fucking someone else tonight.”
Shane can feel the exact moment his stuttery little heart sinks from his chest to his dick - to his voice, quiet but undeniably curious. “Someone else…?”
Because the atmosphere rushes forward with the guy, adrenaline spiking in his core as his phone is slipped out of his hand.
Shane watches him thumb something in with breaths that won’t fill his lungs. Swallows down whatever’s trying to fight its way out of his mouth right now, before it can shatter the tension and ruin the moment.
And when his phone is being handed back to him, Shane’s heart is fucking pounding, eyes hungrily taking in what’s been left on his screen.
A phone number. And a name.
Ilya.
He shoots his attention back up, but it’s too late. Security guy is making his way to the back door, snuffing out his cigarette on the brick.
Chatter and light and clinking glasses seep into the dark, easy vibe they’ve made themselves back here as he opens the door. A break in the trance. A pop of the bubble.
Shane pulls in a breath again, lungs burning.
And then Ilya tosses him a wink, voice low, “See you soon.”
The door shuts behind him.
Everything grows dark and still again.
And…
Shane blinks, tossing glances to the right and left of him in borderline shock because what the fuck. What just happened to him? That was all real?
There’s a very good chance the brussels sprouts actually killed him and they’re trying to resuscitate his lifeless body in the booth right now, his date long gone. But…
Another gust of October breeze…
Excitement, potent and real in a way he hasn’t felt for a long time now…
A smile works its way across Shane’s lips as he double-checks the number on his screen, and then he pockets his phone, inspired to make his way back inside to-
All movement stops for a moment as he looks down at himself. Or, more specifically, the front of his pants.
Oh.
…wow.
Okay, a few more minutes and then he’ll go back inside.
❌ reject shane not liking people hitting on ilya in clubs because it makes him jealous and insecure
✔️ embrace shane enjoying watching people make passes at ilya because ilya turns them down and also returns to shane immediately at the slightest tilt of his head, which means shane is winning at Having Hot Boyfriend Who Wants Only Him, something that is normal to want, and motherfucking possible to achieve 😎
David did not tell Yuna what he saw at the cottage. But, he did come home visibly upset so he had to tell her something.
"Is Shane okay?" Was Yuna's first question.
"Yes," David was quick to reassure her. "He's fine. He's great."
"David," Yuna said worriedly, hand on his bicep. "Is Shane okay?"
"He really is. I promise, sweetheart. I would tell you if he wasn't," David promised her because he would. "But I - he was - he's probably going to be headed over here soon."
"Why?" Yuna started to get more worried, despite her husband's reassurances. "David, what happened? Did you two fight?"
David did interrupt his silent retreat but Yuna couldn't imagine Shane getting into a fight with his father over that.
"No," David caught her eyes. "Do you trust me?"
"Of course."
"Then please don't ask. I saw something I shouldn't have and I - I want it to be Shane's choice if he tells us. I promise you he's safe. We didn't fight. He's - he might be upset with me, but he's okay."
Yuna searched his face for another moment before she slowly nodded.
She had an idea of what David might have seen.
She had considered that Shane's 'silent retreat' might not be the complete truth. She also recognized how upset her husband was at unintentionally learning something about their boy that he wasn't ready to share.
"Okay," Yuna pulled him in for a hug. "I'll make some tea."
"I feel so horrible."
"Shane loves you, he'll understand," Yuna said.
"I hope so," David pulled back. "I can make the tea. Shane will probably want some if he comes over."
He used to make Shane hot chocolate after nightmares, or doctor visits, or difficult practices. When he was a teenager, he started asking for tea instead.
Yuna, sensing David needed something to do, said, "use the new one my aunt sent us. It takes a little longer but I think Shane will like it."
~*~*~
"So, what did you see," Yuna asked her husband as they watched their son and his boyfriend, Ilya Rozanov, drive away.
"I wondered how long it would take for you to ask," David smiled.
"Hush you," Yuna glared. "Like you wouldn't be curious. Unless, god, did you walk in on-"
"No," David stopped her. "They were just walking up from the dock. I would have left but when I noticed it was Rozanov - or Ilya, I mean - I was just frozen there."
"Then how did you know they were, you know, together?"
"Well they kissed on the porch," David winced. "And Ilya..."
"Ilya what?"
"He, uh, had his hand on Shane's…bottom."
Yuna and David stared at each other for a few seconds before Yuna couldn't take it anymore, smile spreading across her face and burst out laughing, hand gripping her husband’s shirt to hold herself up.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Yuna laughed out.
"Yuna!" David admonished but he was laughing too. He reached out to steady her. "It's not funny!"
"When you put it that - that way!" Yuna tried to gather herself. "Ilya Rozanov. Ilya Rozanov. I can't believe it."
"He's a sweet kid," David was still smiling, thinking about Ilya standing awkwardly by his son, happily eating pasta, saying he'd leave the team that drafted him for their Shane.
Yuna softened. "He really is. He looks so much younger in person."
"Well," David wrapped an arm around her waist. "I think he might be ours now."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
My first Heated Rivalry fic!
Summary: Because people have always asked about the first time he met Ilya—what it was like, how it felt—and he could never find the right words. It had felt important. Momentous.
When things were still casual between them, he told himself it was because Ilya was his rival. That they were just sizing up their opponent, nothing more. Ignoring the way his body had gravitated towards Ilya’s presence, even back then.
So the first time Jackie had teased, “Love at first sight, huh?” He had gone along with it. It had never felt quite right, but it was close enough.
tangentwithtanner
kianamaiart
origamiaround
snowghoul
