what if you were the bastard son of a rich catholic cattle rancher and I was the British priest whose mission to America your dad sponsored and now we have to ride all alone across the Wild West but we’ve just been burgled and I can no longer repress my emotions by hiding in my bible and I am feeling the full strength of your penetrating gaze of concern and hesitation as you try to see if I was hurt during the burglary overnight but you’re too scared to touch me even though it’s obvious you want to also I’m trans. Jk.... unless?















