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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Words: 4,942 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Female!Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: S10, The Reapers Warnings: language, violence, gore, angst A/N: This is Part 4 of a series! Find all the parts on my pinned post, the Master List Summary: Daryl helps Y/N and DJ get settled in Alexandria.

Part 3

You walked beside Daryl, a teary smile on your face as you looked ahead at Judith and RJ running and playing with Dog. “It seems impossible that this little girl is the same chubby baby I fed pureed carrots to,” you laughed. “And RJ... They’re beautiful, Daryl.”

“Yeah. They are.” The softness on Daryl’s face was threatening to melt you into a puddle. His eyes turned to DJ next, and that softness remained.

You met his blue eyes again and your lips were drawn down in a soft pout. Tears brimmed in your eyes. “I’m so sorry,” you said. “About Rick. And now Michonne’s gone off… Maggie told me.”

“Yeah,” Daryl drawled, ducking his head and fighting the tidal wave of anxiety and grief and hopelessness that always crested in his chest when he thought of his lost brother. “‘M sorry too. Mostly for them,” he said, nudging his head toward the kids again. “But it’s been hard on everybody…”

“Including you, I’m sure.” Tears burned in your eyes again and you did your best to blink them away. Rick and Michonne were family, and you had hoped to reunite with them again too as soon as you’d found Maggie. The news about much of your old family had been hard to take, especially after losing everyone else at your community so recently. But you knew how deep and unhealing that wound must be for Daryl, losing a true brother…

Daryl hummed a response but you let the topic drop for now.

Alexandria was certainly left worse for wear since the Whisperers had briefly occupied it with their horde. Daryl cast a sideways glance at you as if worried about your reaction to the destruction and mess you were now walking through.

“Ain’t usually like this… ya just arrived at the end of a full-on war,” he said.

Far from seeing concern or judgement on your face, Daryl noted that you seemed to be seeing it with eyes that picked out the potential. He felt another swell of warmth for you. “If it’s home for you, then it’ll be home for us too,” you said. “And I’ll be more than happy to help however I can with the rebuilding.”

Home. It was true that Alexandria was home, and he would die to defend it and the people in it, but there was another home that he’d lost a long time ago, and it was now walking beside him… Then, he suddenly remembered what Carol had said to him at the wall. “Please tell me you aren’t going to stick them in some random empty apartment or house.” His feet must have faltered because you turned and glanced over at him immediately.

“Everything okay?”

“Uhh—yeah… I just—” he chewed anxiously on his bottom lip for a moment, and you nearly smiled. It was the same nervous habit he’d always had. “I was thinkin’, if you and DJ wanted to… I mean, ya could stay at my place. I’ve got a spare bedroom—s’where Jude and RJ usually sleep when I’ve got ‘em, but that ain’t no big deal. I can make ‘em up bedrolls on the floor in my room if they’re stayin’ or—” he was rambling nervously, “—if ya ain’t comfortable with that, I mean, stayin’ at my place, we’ve got plenty of other apartments and houses. We could set ya up somewhere else—I just thought, with DJ, might be easier—and maybe would be, I dunno, would be—"

“Daryl—” You stopped him with a hand gentle on his arm. “Of course we’d love to stay with you, if you’re okay with the extra trouble.”

He gulped. The last fucking thing he wanted now was to be parted from you and DJ, even if it was just by half a block. “Ain’t no extra trouble,” he drawled quietly, slightly transfixed from the touch of your hand on his arm.

You laughed. “You say that now… but you may have forgotten over the last decade, I can be a handful,” you joked. “And DJ? He takes after his dad in some ways.”

Daryl let out an amused exhale and shook his head. “Poor kid,” he joked, but you shot him a look.

“Lucky kid,” you corrected him. God, he’d missed that. You had always been so affirming to him. You had unwavering confidence in him and you told him and showed him every damn day. His internal monologue was often so dark, especially lately with things all seeming to go wrong. But you had always shown a light on him, always told him so earnestly that he was good and loved even when he didn’t believe it or didn’t feel he deserved it himself. He felt a swell of gratitude and emotion and fought against what felt like a huge bubble in his chest that was getting ready to burst. Your voice interrupted him.

“So. Which way is home?” You were looking at him expectantly.

“Uhh, this way,” he murmured, tilting his head toward the next street over. He let out a loud whistle and Dog turned and came rushing back. “Hey—Jude, RJ. Let’s go! We’re gonna help Y/N and DJ get settled, alright?”

“Uncle Daryl?” RJ said when he had trotted over, looking up with shining brown eyes.

“Yeah, bud?”

“I’m hungry,” he said.

Daryl ruffled a hand through his own hair a little anxiously. “Yeah… yeah, we’ll have to see ‘bout that in a bit. Let’s head home first and then I’ll figure that out, okay?”

You and Daryl exchanged a knowing glance. Keeping growing kids nourished was a constant worry.

“Mom?” DJ asked you softly. You looked down at him with a questioning look. He dug into his small bag and pulled out an apple. It was slightly bruised on one side, but shone bright red in the sun and seemed just as crisp as when you’d picked it for him a few days back. “Can I?” he asked. Your heart swelled and you nodded as you ran your fingers down one of the wavy strands of his brown hair.

“Of course. That’s a very kind thing to do,” you said proudly.

DJ trotted a few paces to catch up to RJ and then nudged him gently with his elbow, holding out the apple to him. RJ took it excitedly and thanked him with a broad smile. He took a huge bite and then offered it to Judith, who also happily shared it. Pretty soon the three of them were sharing it like old pals.

Daryl was smiling as he watched the exchanged. “That’s some kid ya’ve got,” he said softly.

“You mean that we’ve got,” you corrected him. “He’s your son, Daryl.”

Daryl gulped and looked down at you, his eyes still a little wide with disbelief. We. You’d said we. He wanted so desperately to read into that and allow his mind to run on with all his foolish hopes… He nudged his nose up in a shy nod and chewed on his bottom lip a moment. A son. He had a son.

The kids ran ahead, chasing after Dog and throwing a stick for him time and time again, until finally Daryl cleared his throat and nodded toward the nearest condo on the end of a small row. “This is me,” he said. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck nervously. “Yer place now too, if ya think it’ll work okay. And ya don’t mind a bit’a dog hair.” It was as if he needed to give you every opportunity to change your mind.

“DJ and I have been sleeping wherever I could find the smallest bit of shelter or safety for quite a while now. We moved every day. This is going to be a huge change for the better. Thank you.” You studied his expression again. “And I don’t mind the dog hair,” you laughed. Dog seemed to have heard you because he came and slipped through the space between your legs, stopping and leaning to one side, rubbing his body against your leg, looking up at you. You laughed and bent to give him neck scratches and he was soon licking your face.

“He likes ya,” Daryl said. There was a smile in his voice. He took that moment and allowed himself to take in the way the afternoon light was illuminating the hues in your eyes as you glanced back up at him and the shine in your hair. He felt like he’d been transported to some alternate dimension—he was so used to struggling to live every day without you and suddenly… here you were. Dog finally darted to the garage door, prancing anxiously on his front paws, and Daryl collected himself enough to go over and push it up. RJ and Judith raced in after Dog, but DJ waited back.

Your eyes went immediately to the bike parked there. “Oh my God,” you said, grinning. The light in your eyes now seemed to be sparking on his behalf as you strode over to it. You shot him a brilliant look and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat and then sped up. “This is amazing. Did you build this?” you asked, touching it here and there.

Daryl brushed a hand back through his hair and shrugged. “Yeah. Aaron, you’ll meet Aaron, he had been collectin’ parts for years before he brought our group in. He didn’t really know what to do with them. First damn thing I did after I was sure Alexandria was gonna be real, safe, was put ‘em to good use.”

DJ was looking at the bike with eager interest and excitement. “You built it? From scrap?” he asked again.

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yep.”

“Can I have a ride?” he asked excitedly.

Daryl smiled. “Yeah. ‘Course. Uhh—as long as that’s okay with yer mom,” Daryl said, glancing your direction, resting a hand on the handlebar.

“Nobody safer to ride with,” you said, nodding. “As long as you wear a helmet, DJ. But not today. Maybe tomorrow, if the weather is good, alright?” DJ seemed satisfied with that and ran ahead into the condo after Judith and RJ. You glanced over at Daryl again and his eyes were already on you. He was wringing his hands a little anxiously. “Well, when do I get a ride from you again? It’s been a while. Maybe tonight?” Daryl’s mouth dropped slightly open and you laughed nervously when you realized the obvious innuendo. You felt your cheeks flushing. “The bike!” you said in a hurry. “I meant on—” you pressed a hand up to your face and ducked his gaze. Daryl was gulping nervously. “Jesus—I meant on the—” You sighed and laughed again, quite sure that your face was still bright red.

Daryl rubbed a hand over the back of his neck awkwardly, but he was also feeling a heat in his chest like you’d just struck flint and steel to tinder and he too let out a small, awkward laugh. Not to mention that intimate scenes he held dearly deep in his mind were suddenly rushing into the forefront like they’d been called. He could still feel the shape of your hip under his hand like it was just yesterday, or the softness of you as his fingertips dimpled into your skin… He could see the water cascading down your body as he pressed you back against the wall of the shower. He could hear your hurried breathing, the breathy way you used to say his name… The noises of pleasure he’d been able to pull from you. When he couldn’t sleep or when things were just too dark, he’d let his mind wander over those memories, but he had to limit himself. Otherwise, he would have run the risk of living entirely there in that daydream, forgetting the now, and then how would he have kept going, knowing it may be lost forever? And then suddenly you were made real in front of him again. Here. You were right here. Shit. Get it together, man. He refocused his attention on the expectant look on your face. “Uhh—lemme show ya inside,” he drawled.

You bit your bottom lip and followed him in. The kids were all piled on the couch, Dog in front of them, and your heart lifted to see DJ interacting with Jude and RJ so easily. There must have been a smile on your face because Daryl was looking at you with the corners of his eyes crinkled in one too.

“It’s been a long time since he’s been able to be around any other kids, before Hershel, I mean,” you said. The smile faded again and Daryl thought you looked suddenly veiled in sadness briefly.

“C’mon,” he said, tilting his head toward the small hallway. “Bathroom in there,” he said, passing the small room on the right. “Here’s the spare room,” he said. Out of habit he tried to flick on the light and then remembered that the Whisperers had trashed the solar panels and he flicked it back off. “Uhh… sorry. No power back up yet.”

“Haven’t had power in years,” you said. “Won’t even miss it.”

Daryl ruffled his fingers back through his hair again. “We’ll get it back up,” he said with certainty. “‘Til then I got plenty of candles and lanterns and stuff. Remind me before it gets dark. My room is just—” he pointed down the hall to the next door, “right there.”

You leaned on the doorframe next to him and looked in at the little room. A bed. A real bed. “Thanks for this.”

He ducked his head and nodded, shifting nervously beside you. “Yeah. S’nothin’. Dun need to thank me.”

There was a loud squeal from one of the kids and you both moved back to the main room. Dog had jumped on the couch with the three of them and was now laying fully across their laps. You hadn’t seen such a grin on DJ’s face in what felt like a lifetime. You glanced around the room, taking in the space and what Daryl had done to make it his. There were various antlers and pelts around, and the coffee table had a few old books on it, the top one about piracy. “Hmm,” you hummed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nice place you have here. It’s very Daryl,” you said, a small smile curving your lips. “It suits you. Though maybe a cabin in the woods would still suit you better.”

Daryl’s stomach suddenly clenched. A cabin in the woods. Fuck. He had to tell you. He had to figure out how the fuck to tell you…

“What do you think?” you asked him, and Daryl suddenly realized you must have been talking to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Think the kids would be okay here on their own for a while so we can go try and find some food for everyone?”

He nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, and we can ask Rosita and Gabe to look in on ‘em.”

Your face brightened. “Please, let’s go see Rosita.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah, course. And—Gabriel ain’t the same anymore,” Daryl said. “He’s turned out to be real good to have around.”

You shook your head and let out a laugh of disbelief. “You remember what I said when he finally got down off that rock?”

Daryl snorted out a laugh and nodded. “Yeah. Ya asked if we could put him back.” You laughed again more earnestly.

“And—him and Rosita? Really? I mean, Maggie told me but it’s still hard to wrap my brain around…”

Daryl laughed again, fiddling anxiously with a rock on the side table. “I think that took all of us by surprise at first,” Daryl drawled. “But—” he shrugged. “They do seem to be doin’ good together. C’mon. Let’s get goin’ while we still got daylight.” He stepped farther into the room and managed to grab the kids’ attention. “Hey—Jude. Yer the oldest, so yer in charge, alrigh’? We’re just gonna go see about some dinner, okay? If we ain’t back when it’s startin’ to get dark, ya go to Aunt Rosita’s or find Uncle Jerry and Aunt Nabila at their place, okay? And keep away from that part of the wall tha’s down. I mean it. Ya can show DJ around, but I don’t want ya over there.”

Jude nodded and agreed. “Okay.”

“Dog, get down,” Daryl said, and the Malinois jumped back onto the rug. Daryl hugged Jude and ruffled RJ’s hair. Then he held a fist out to DJ, who eagerly bumped it with his own and grinned. Daryl knelt down so he was at their eye level again. “We’ll be back just as soon as we can, alrigh’? Ya’ll be good and stay safe. Jude, ya got yer sword? Good. You and DJ, watch out for RJ.”

Your heart felt like it grew three sizes just watching him reassuring the kids and making sure that everyone was alright for you both to leave. “We’ll try not to be too long,” you said, and you went and grabbed each of them in a hug, leaving a kiss on the top of DJ’s head too. “Keep your bow with you,” you told him. “Good. See you soon, hopefully with some dinner.”

The reunion with Rosita was emotional, and you cooed over baby Coco with her and lamented the loss of Siddiq when she told you what had happened in brief. By the time you were heading back to Daryl’s to grab his bike and head out, you agreed that Gabriel was an entirely different person than he had been when you’d known him. “Gotta admit… the eye and still wearing the stuffy outfit—it’s definitely a look,” you said, walking back beside Daryl.

He let out a small laugh and glanced over at you. “Like I said, he ain’t the same.” He strapped his crossbow onto the bike and slung his leg over, standing up so you could slip on behind him. Nervous flutters were already rising before you even climbed on, and when your hands finally settled lightly on his sides, he felt like his body temp rose a hundred degrees. He did his best not to stiffen with nerves and settled down on the seat. “Ain’t sure what we’ll find out there,” he said. “Those assholes brought a horde through ‘round here. Scared off most of the game.”

Your arms looped around him more fully and he gulped again. “Fish probably didn’t run away. Neither did the plants and fungi. We’ll find something,” you said ardently. “We always find something.”

Daryl started his bike and, for a brief moment, thought he felt your cheek press to the back of his shoulder. “Ya ready?”

“Hell yeah!” you yelled over the engine, and he could hear the smile in your voice.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Having any luck?” you asked Daryl as you approached from out of the woods nearby again, a canvas bag that now seemed rather full clutched in your hand.

“Mhm… Carp. Gonna taste like mud,” he said, nodding to the huge fish lying on the grass beside him. “But they’re definitely better than nothin’. You?”

“Yeah. Found a good haul of mushrooms—chantarelles, oyster mushrooms, chicken of the woods. And a bunch of edible plants. Ramps?” you held up a clump of something from your bag.

“Uhhh—am I s’posed to know what the hell yer talkin’ about?”

You laughed heartily and Daryl’s heart skipped a beat, as it seemed to do damn near every time you did anything. “Ramps!” you said again. “They’re a wild onion. Taste kind of like a cross between garlic and scallions.”

“Hmm,” Daryl nod, turning his attention back to the river and shooting an arrow into the now writhing form of a dark fish. “Learn somethin’ new ev’ry day. I think I always just called them wild onions. No need to be fancy about it,” he teased you, grabbing his arrow and the impaled fish with it.

You gave him a look and then turned your eyes back to the pile of large fish on the bank. “I think we have enough here for quite a bit soup. We’ll be able to feed some hungry kids tonight.”

Daryl retrieved his arrow and grabbed a bag for the fish from his pack. “Tha’s what it’s all about,” he said.

You spun around as you heard a twig snap somewhere behind you in the trees. Daryl stood and grabbed his bow again, immediately on edge, and paced several steps forward in the soft grass until he was slightly in front of you. It was a protective instinct he’d always had… even now it came back like old muscle memory.

The snap of the dry wood was soon followed by a growing growl sound and the two of you both breathed sighs of relief. “Goddamn walker. Tha’s all,” he drawled.

“Yeah,” you agreed, though the worry didn’t leave your face completely. Daryl was again sharply aware that you’d been through some very serious shit very recently, shit he didn’t yet know the full extent of. “We should get back. It’s going to start getting dark soon.”

“Yeah. I was just thinkin’ the same thing.” Daryl unsheathed his knife and advanced on the scrawny and emaciated looking rotter ambling toward the two of you. He lunged with a perfectly placed strike and sunk his blade into its head. It crumpled to the leaf litter and laid still.

The two of you strode back toward his bike, side by side, and you glanced over at him when you felt his eyes on you. “Hmm?” you prompted him, adjusting your hold on the foraging bag stuffed full of ingredients over your shoulder.

He shrugged and looked back down toward where he was placing his boots. “Will ya tell me—uhh… ‘bout when he was born? I mean—where were ya and—guess I just wanna know ‘bout it all,” he said.

Your expression was soft as you looked back at him and Daryl relaxed some. “Yeah, of course. Daryl, you can ask me anything you want to about DJ. Really about anything. Ask me anything about anything,” you laughed. “I’ll do my best to answer. Oh—and remind me to show you the book when the kids are in bed tonight.”

“The book?”

You nodded. “Yeah. The book.”

He nodded, intrigued. “Alrigh’.”

You sighed, looking ahead and taking in the way the light was filtering through the leaves still clinging to the craggy oak branches. “When DJ was born, I was still in Georgia. You remember how I said people just were finding me or I was finding them?” Daryl nodded. “I had been trying to scavenge supplies from this huge department store, get ready for the baby and find some more vitamins and stuff. I thought there was a good chance there were supplies left inside because the parking area had been some kind of military checkpoint or something and the whole thing had these huge fences chain link fences topped with razor wire. I hadn’t seen any walkers in there… I found some fence cutters and made a way inside. Pried a door open and got into the building. I was right. There were supplies in there,” you laughed dryly. “But the reason I hadn’t seen any walkers was because there were people living inside.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed heavily.

“I was lucky—very lucky. They turned out to be good people, just a small group of survivors. A found family. They saw, immediately of course, that I was pregnant and one of them happened to be a midwife. They were all with me when I went into labor. We had left the store by then. There were getting to be too many dead in the suburbs and we’d headed away from the populated areas. We took a Jeep and a truck full of supplies and found this farmhouse and set up there for the winter. It reminded a little of Hershel’s farm. We had a decent stock of supplies and I had everything I needed for the baby but I was still terrified of course… especially after what happened to Lori. But everything went smoothly and after an excruciating 14 hours of labor, I delivered a healthy baby boy and named him Daryl as soon as I saw him.” Tears brimmed in your eyes as you looked over at him again. Your voice was soft and breathy when you spoke again and you’d had to fight to get the words out. “I wish you were there,” you said. “I wished that more than anything at the time and still. He was just this tiny little thing, all wiry arms and legs.” You sniffled and tried to pull yourself back together. “For a birth in the apocalypse, I was very lucky,” you said with a dry laugh.

You walked in silence for a while, each of you sinking into your own thoughts, but Daryl finally broke it again. “Those people—were any of ‘em still with ya when—were any of them with ya when yer community was attacked?”

The weight of it settled back over you and you nodded. “Yeah. Two of them were.” The only sound was the soft noise of the damp earth and leaf litter beneath your boots.

“‘M sorry,” Daryl drawled. “We’ve all lost a lotta people over the years, but I ain’t never lost everybody all at once like ya have. Not really. I mean, it felt that way when the prison fell, but I knew there were more of us out there. I knew you were out there, somehow.”

The muscle in your jaw tensed and you nodded, looking up again at the last bit of afternoon light waning against the tops of the trees. In a moment, the tension on your face seemed to pass and you glanced back over at him. “We’ve all lost people. Who’s to say what’s better or worse?”

On the ride back to Alexandria, Daryl swore you held on even more tightly to him than you had on the way out, and he knew he wasn’t imagining that you were leaning into him.

_ _ _ _ _ _

The fish and foraged ingredients had made a huge pot of soup, enough to feed all the kids in Alexandria and a good many adults too. Everyone’s mood was jovial with a full stomach as you sat around the little table with Daryl and the kids. It wasn’t lost on you that DJ and Daryl ate exactly the same; ravenously, unabashedly, and frequently using their sleeves as napkins. It had you smiling through most of the meal. Daryl had caught you staring at him once.

“What?” he prompted you, hurriedly wiping a sleeve across his mouth as if he thought he had food stuck there.

You smiled and shook your head. “Nothing.”

You’d tried to convince Carol to come for dinner but she’d insisted she didn’t want to intrude on your first night back. She gladly accepted some of the soup though, and you’d made her promise to come find you the next day. Now, you and Daryl were telling Judith, RJ, and DJ old stories and regularly cracking them up into fits of giggles. Dog was happily chewing a scavenged deer bone on the rug.

“Hey, what ‘bout that time,” Daryl had to pause and let out a gruff laugh, pointing at you. “‘Member, ya flipped the bird at that squatter? And then—”

“Alright!” you said standing up hurriedly, and cutting him off on purpose. “I think they can hear the rest of that story when they’re all older! Kids, help me clear the table please,” you said, grabbing Daryl’s plate and shooting him a look. His blue eyes were smiling and they followed you all the way into the kitchen as he leaned back in his chair.

Judith and RJ wanted to stay the night since they hadn’t seen their Uncle Daryl in so long (and you were definitely an added bonus) so you helped him set up bed rolls for them on the floor in his room before tucking DJ in in your own bed down the hall. You stroked his hair away from his face and kissed his forehead.

“Mom,” he started, yawning and sinking more deeply into his pillow.

“Mhm?”

“I think I really like this place. And… it’s nice to be around other kids again. This feels like a family,” he said and you nodded in agreement, smiling serenely.

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“So… can we stay?” he asked.

“What do I always say?”

“‘We can stay as long as we can stay’,” he recited.

“Right. But, if it makes you feel better, I think and I hope that will be a long time.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl x y/n #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles #daryl angst #daryl fluff #rick grimes jr #RJ #judith grimes #dad!daryl #rosita espinosa

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dailyanarchistposts · 1 month ago

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Queer autonomous zones and participatory publics

Bobby Noble points to ‘the simultaneity of the relations between gendered embodi- ment, sex play, and racialization inside homonormative communities, neighbour- hoods and venues for cultural production’ (Noble, 2009). Similar critiques of the queer community have been taken up by Gay Shame anarchist activists organizing in the late 1990s. In That’s Revolting! Matt/Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore docu- ments their personal experience in Gay Shame collectives in San Francisco and New York City. ‘Gay Shame emerged to create a radical alternative to the confor- mity of gay neighbourhoods, bars, and institutions – most clearly symbolized by Gay Pride’ (Sycamore, 2004: 238). Gay Shame is ‘mostly anarchist leaning’ (2004: 239), and organizes gatherings, events and direct action protests against capitalism and intersecting oppressions. A San Francisco flyer asks, ‘Are you choking on the vomit of consumerist ‘gay pride’?’ (2004: 239). Another poster entitled ‘Gay pride, my ass: It’s all about gay shame’ (2004: 240) announces an ‘autonomous space’ (2004: 240) outdoors on Tire Beach with performances, art-making, bands, instal- lations, DJs, food, kidspace, and ‘politics and play’ (2004: 240). The event hosted ‘speakers on issues including San Francisco gentrification and the US colonization of the Puerto Rican island of Vieques, as well as prison, youth, and trans activism’ (2004: 241). The range of issues and events in the ‘autonomous space’ point to a very different kind of sprawling, engaged public than Berlant and Warner’s indoor, circumscribed, queer counterpublic. ‘We encouraged people to participate in cre- ating their own radical queer space, and people argued about political issues, painted, poured concrete and made a mosaic, dyed hair, and mudwrestled naked’ (Sycamore, 2004: 241). Participation is a key element in the formation of a ‘Queer autonomous space’ (2004: 237) or zone, as are multiplicities of political focus (Puerto Rico, kids, youth, prisons, trans people, art production, gentrifica- tion and so on) and an over-arching anti-capitalist practice that includes free entrance, barter and trade, dressing to ‘ragged excess’ (2004: 240), and the provi- sion of ‘free food, T-shirts and various other gifts’ (2004: 241).

Queer autonomous zones thus are open-ended spaces in which participation of all comers is encouraged through a direct (rather than liberal) democracy model. They are facilitated via engagement with a multiplicity of intersectional anti- oppression politics. Interactions in queer autonomous spaces develop sustainable social relations and value-practices, based on mutual respect, consent, sexual lib- eration, and non-normativity, in which people engage in open-ended processes of developing alternative ways of being, feeling, thinking, engaging, acting and becoming-liberated. The question is – what’s next? How do we continue to expand our movements and theorizing to extend the becoming-liberated of queer?

Acknowledgement

I would like to thank the reviewers for their helpful comments, Jamie Heckert for encour- agement and patience with my process, and Sydney Neuman for engaged proofreading.

References

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On the Author

Sandra Jeppesen is an activist, writer, and Assistant Professor in Communication Studies at Concordia University, Montreal, Canada. Her research is in guerrilla texts and autonomous media, including analysis of discourses produced through anti-poverty activism, anti-colonial no-border activism, radical feminist and queer collectives, anti-racist pedagogies, and other social movement texts. Address: Communication Studies Department, Concordia University, 7141 Sherbrooke Street West, CJ 3.230, 3rd Floor, Montreal, Canada H4B 1R6.

[1] Following Vade’s important article (2005) advocating the ‘Gender Galaxy’ which reveals the falsity of the gender/sex divide and the negative legal impact of this distinction on trans people, I am using the term ‘gender’ to be comprehensive.

[2] In the USA this is particularly true. In Canada same-sex marriage and human rights are protected by the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, and immigration processes are begin- ning to include same-sex partners in sponsorship claims, as well as considering persecution for sexuality as a basis for refugee claims. These processes however remain heteronorma- tive. I’d like to thank Melissa White for sharing her insights and research on this issue.

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