Hello, Dear Comrade/occasional Visitor!

what a week huh?

On gallifrey what would happen if a couple were married and they were both straight and then one of them changed gender

Red, White, and Royal Blue out of context

Women in the life of Henry VIII

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Alex Claremont-Diaz being a 5-year-old: a saga

saw this photo and knew i had to redraw it as them LMAO

“So you’ve heard, then?”

“That our parents want us to get married? Yes, I’ve heard.”

The protagonist lounged in their travelling tent, a glass of wine in hand. They were, in their mind, the very picture of regal despondency. 

“You don’t seem happy about it,” said the protagonist’s friend – their fiancé, now, they supposed.

“Are you?”

Their friend meandered further into the tent, looking over the protagonist’s books. “I don’t know. I guess if I have to be with someone …” A shrug. “It may be my best option for it to be you.”

“Your passion is overwhelming,” the protagonist deadpanned.

Their friend gave a wan smile. “I’m just trying to face facts.”

“Do you love me?”

Their friend looked up in surprise. 

It normally would have been embarrassing, to ask such a question so bluntly. But now, more than ever, was the time to have all their cards on the table.

To their friend’s credit, they didn’t shy away. “No,” they said. “Or … yes. But not how you mean.”

The protagonist took in a breath. “Explain.”

Their friend settled onto the sedan across from them, and was silent. The protagonist thought for a moment that they wouldn’t answer at all. But then they said, “If I could love anyone like that, it would be you.”

“But you can’t.”

Their friend cast their eyes over. “I’ve long suspected you of being the same.”

The protagonist leaned back, staring at the tarp ceiling. “Somewhat. I don’t feel romantic love, this is true. But I do feel …” They smiled to themself. “I find people sexually interesting, you could say.”

Their friend stilled. “Oh.”

“Do you think me a whore, for this?”

“No.” Their friend’s response was quick, and certain. It startled the protagonist.

A small lock of dread released in their heart. They smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.”

Their friend cleared their throat. “Do you find me … interesting?”

The protagonist raised their brows. But, well, fair enough. Cards on the table.

“Yes,” they said, in all honesty.

Their friend nodded, seeming to pay close attention to the woven rugs splayed on the grass.

“I take it the feeling is not mutual.”

Their friend rubbed the back of their neck. “Do you think me cold, for not being able to feel any of it?”

“Never.”

Their friend nodded again.

But that did leave one question …

“Marriages usually involve sex,” the protagonist said. They placed their wine on the end table, leaning forward. “How were you planning to deal with that?”

Their friend shrugged. “Every station comes with its chores, I suppose.”

Horror washed over the protagonist.

“The wedding isn’t happening,” they said, bursting upwards. “I will speak with my father, I will – ”

“You will bring your country to ruin,” their friend said, rising to meet them. “Your kingdom needs this alliance even more than mine.”

“I will not take someone who is unwilling.”

Their friend stepped closer, and took the protagonist’s hand. “I would be willing.”

“Would you? Would you truly?”

Their friend faltered.

“I could not do that,” the protagonist said. “Not to anyone.” They squeezed their friend’s fingers. “And never to you.”

“So what, then?” Their friend met their gaze. “You’ll resign yourself to a life of celibacy? Because this marriage is happening, whether we like it or not.”

Now it was the protagonist’s turn to falter for words.

They both stayed like that for a time, stuck.

Then, a light flicked on in their friend’s eyes. “What if we got married, but as friends?”

The protagonist huffed out a laugh. “That’s an oxymoron, if I’ve ever heard one.”

“No, I’m serious.” Their friend took their other hand. “A marriage in name, but in practice …”

They dropped down to one knee, grinning. “[Protagonist], will you do me the honour of being my friend?”

The protagonist had to smile, in spite of themself. “What are you even suggesting?”

“We do the ceremony. Our kingdoms join. But we have separate beds. Separate rooms, even. And you can have a harem, with as many interesting people as you’d like. And I …” Their smile changed from scheming to sincere. “I get to spend the rest of my life with my best friend.”

The protagonist blinked. The idea sounded crazy, but …

“It could work.”

The next day, the two of them informed their parents the betrothal was happily accepted.

who is doing it like him

when she says she doesn’t send nudes