Rafy

When a divine being of glamour accidentally inspires a Roman emperor, history gets high heels. This hilariously fabulous short story reveals the true (and very sparkly) origin of drag — or rather, D’reg.

I arrived in Mykonos with three shirts, zero beach towels, and a suitcase full of good intentions. The moment the taxi door opened, the heat slapped me across the face like a sassy aunt who hadn’t seen me since Christmas. It smelled like sunscreen, grilled octopus, and just a hint of desperation—mine, mostly. Technically, this was a break. Spiritually? A soft reboot. When I told my boss I needed “some time off to decompress,” I think she assumed I meant yoga or therapy. Not fleeing to

When Alex escapes to sun-soaked Mykonos to recover from burnout, the last thing he expects is a run-in with Luca—his charming college crush with a complicated past. What starts as casual beach banter turns into sizzling chemistry, paddleboard mishaps, and almost-kisses under the stars. But just as romance begins to bloom, Luca’s ex shows up, turning paradise into emotional purgatory. Will Alex risk heartbreak for a love that finally feels real—or walk away from what could’ve been? A heartwarming, witty vacation romcom about second chances, missed moments, and the one kiss worth waiting for.

Thank you so much! 🤗 I'm doing my very best, and I’m thrilled you’re following along! Next up is a 30-minute romcom — packed to the brim with all the glorious clichés, of course! 🥰✨ Stay tuned!

Eleni Panagopoulos had not planned to come out that Sunday. She had planned to survive. That was the goal. A simple, quiet lunch at her parents’ home in New Jersey’s mini-Astoria, with her “partner” — a vague, flexible word she hoped would camouflage the glaringly obvious truth: she was, in fact, very much in love with a woman. After thirty-two years of hearing, “Where is your boyfriend, Eleni?” and “Even Yiayia married — and she didn’t have teeth!”, she had finally cracked. “Just… be

Thank you all for your comments! By the way: Although the story is fictional, it’s actually well-researched! “Fly Me to the Moon” is widely known in Japan because it’s the ending theme of the iconic anime Neon Genesis Evangelion (and yes, nerds — there’s a little Easter egg referencing it in the story 😉). What’s really fun is how perfectly it also fits the Sailor Moon theme — magical girls, emotional transformation, the power of song! So… consider this my glittery contribution to international anime education 🌙🎤✨

Yuki, 22-year-old exchange student from Osaka, had been in Dublin for precisely six days — five of which were spent nodding politely at people she didn’t understand and surviving on a diet of digestive biscuits, supermarket sushi, and accidental coleslaw. She missed karaoke. She missed rice. She missed silence that didn’t come with drunk shouting from a passing hen party. So when she spotted a flyer taped to the cracked window of the university café that read: “KARAOKE NIGHT – Tuesda

Next time: Drag Strip Poker 😱🤣

Dave just wanted nachos. He was a simple man. A flannel-shirt-wearing, IPA-sipping, dad-joke-making kinda guy. He didn’t ask for much in life: a good snack, a quiet evening, and a properly sized parking spot for his SUV. But on this fateful Thursday night, Dave walked into The Gilded Lily Social Hall, lured by a flyer that said “Bingo + Beer = Bliss!” and a poorly photoshopped pilsner with googly eyes. What the flyer did not specify was that the “bingo” would be called by Madame Lavish

Liam had done the work. Three hundred and forty-two consecutive days on Duolingo. He had battled owls, survived more than 113 passive-aggressive push notifications, and conjugated more irregular verbs than anyone with a social life ever should. His phone buzzed with congratulatory confetti every time he nailed the subjunctive. He was, in his mind, basically French now. Maybe not native, but spiritually a Parisian with strong opinions on cheese and an unearned sense of superiority. So when h

Oh my god! 😱 I hope you fully recovered!

Thank you! We all Italy !

When Luca suggested a “simple dinner” to tell Nonna the big news, Devon blinked twice and reached for the wine like it was a seatbelt. “It’ll be cozy,” Luca said cheerfully, chopping basil like it owed him rent. “Just us and her. No drama.” “You say that,” Devon muttered, “as if you didn’t invite a Sicilian nonna into our apartment to feed her store-bought cannoli and a lasagna you made with oat milk ricotta.” “It’s artisanal,” Luca protested. “It’s a crime.” Still, he l

This collection of short stories celebrates queer lives through humor, heart, and honesty. With lovable characters and a light-hearted tone, each chapter a story that offers a feel-good escape into the everyday ups and downs we all face — dating disasters, awkward dinners, unexpected joy, and the little moments that make life beautifully ridiculous. Told with warmth and wit, these stories aren't about being queer instead of being normal — they're about being queer and wonderfully human. Sometimes messy, often hilarious, always full of charm.

Thank you so much! That was exactly my intention: to celebrate diversity while also sprinkling in some summer and vacation vibes. So glad it came through! ☀️🌈✨

The atmosphere in the dressing room at Playa del Pecs Beach Club was thick enough to contour. It tasted of desperation, setting spray, and the faint, microwaved ghost of a DJ's career. “Update from the front lines,” Patty O’Furniture announced, scrolling on her phone with a look of profound disgust. She was in what she called her “Post-Apocalyptic Loungewear”—a caftan, flip-flops, and a towel turban where her wig, a majestic blonde beehive named “Marge,” was supposed to be. “DJ Daddy Issues

When a glamazon in towering heels and her caftan-clad bestie take a “fashion stroll” across a gay beach, chaos, crabs, and bratwurst-related trauma ensue. Heels in the Sand: A Beachside Drag-edy is a hilariously sassy tale of sun, shade, and stilettos, where the only thing higher than the heels is the drama.

@drpaladin “You’re still a good boy” — I grinned way too hard at that 😄 And you’re right, the decoy idea would’ve been smart. But Joshua relied on surprise and brute force, like always. He still thinks like a lone wolf, which made sense before, but now? It’s not just his life anymore. He’ll have to figure that out… if he wants to keep what he’s got. @Flip-Flop Thank you so much for sticking with it, even when it felt uncomfortable at first. That tension between not wanting to look and not being able to look away is exactly the emotional tightrope I was walking. Knowing it pulled you in and even got you rooting for them? That’s incredibly rewarding. And yes… maybe their story should stay unresolved, like a held breath. @drsawzall I'm really glad you enjoyed it, and I appreciate you taking a moment to say so! @chris191070 “All is well for the Captain and his boy at the moment”: that line made me smile. It’s such a delicate moment of peace they’ve found. Temporary, but real. @84Mags Your comment truly stunned me in the best possible way. The insight about names, identity, and what they haven’t yet earned was razor-sharp. You're absolutely right: neither of them is ready to be known. Not truly. That suspended space between who they are and who they might become, that's where this story breathes. I also wove in quite a few symbols and deeper themes throughout, and reading your comment made me feel like they resonated. The inner battles — what it means to be good or bad, whether a soul can be damned, the shifting weight of the phrase "good boy" — all of that was intentional, and working those undercurrents into the story was something I really loved doing. So to see that you picked up on it and reflected it back in such a thoughtful way… honestly, that means more than I can say! @VBlew Thank you so much for being part of this journey, and for echoing @84Mags' beautiful words. It means a lot to know this story resonated with you. To all of you: thank you for reading, reacting, speculating, and feeling with me. It’s been my first venture into this genre, and your responses — the praise, the critique, the emotional honesty — have meant the world. You’ve helped me grow. I hope our good boy and his Captain live on in your imagination — as rough, raw, and unfinished as they are. Let’s see what comes next. Maybe something darker. Or sweeter. Or both. Love, Rafy⚓

Night had settled over the ship like a shroud, thick and absolute, as though the sea had swallowed the sky. No stars, no moon—just the groan of timber and the breath of tide. Everything beyond the rails was darkness, endless and unknowable. The air hung damp and heavy, soaked in salt and something colder—something that felt like the shadow of what was coming. I stood just inside the door, chest tight, the weight of the past night wrapped around me like chains. But there was relief too—

The clanking of keys against iron jolted me from half-sleep. I barely had time to straighten before the cell door creaked open. A small, bald-headed pirate stepped inside, his face set in something between amusement and indifference. “Get up. Captain wants you on deck.” I blinked at him. My wrists ached from where I’d curled up against the damp stone floor, my throat dry from hours without water. I didn’t move. The pirate’s lip curled. “You deaf?” I exhaled slowly, shift

The cold of the cave seeped deep into my bones, the rough stone biting into my skin as I sat curled in the shadows, the weight of the past few hours pressing heavy against my chest. My throat still ached where the rough leather collar had cut into it, and though my tears had dried, my body felt hollow—scraped raw from the inside out. The darkness held me close, damp and suffocating, broken only by the thin, pale glow of morning creeping through the cracks in the rock. Time had bled into its

The secret bay stretched before us, half-hidden by a jagged maze of sharp rocks that jutted from the water like the broken teeth of some long-dead beast. The waves churned angrily around them, their force swelling and crashing, warning away any who dared approach. A place meant to keep others out. A place only the skilled could enter. Joshua stood at the helm, one hand resting lightly on the wheel, his posture deceptively relaxed. The crew moved in tense silence around him, their usual brav

It started in the morning, when Joshua tossed a bundle of fabric at my feet. No words. No glance. The rough linen hit the floor with a muted thud. I didn’t move at first. The rough canvas sheet used as blanket was still wrapped around my shoulders—threadbare, scratchy, the only thing shielding me from the morning chill and the eyes of the world. The night before, Joshua had torn my clothes. Not with cruelty, not entirely—but with finality. I had nothing now. Not even a thread of my own

Ah wow, thank you so much! That really means a lot. You totally got what I was trying to do: he’s constantly caught between fear, confusion, and this desperate need to understand what’s happening to him (and foremost inside him). I’m so glad that tension came through for you. Seriously, your words made me smile! Thank you! 🤗