#but GOD what I wouldn’t give to be a queer housewife

[sassmill]

My salad being a hit with the board of trustees just unlocked a whole new spectrum of secret housewife emotions

[ixnova]

Unpopular opinion about some ppl in the apex fandom and regarding Pathfinder (no one directly just noticed a pattern amongst artist) and not meant as a personal attack or anything just me voicing some distaste for stuff and my own opinions on it just venting. under cut

Disclaimer: I don’t hate anyone, I am not talking about anyone in particular, I actually like some of the artists that do these things, I just personally find the styles and takes annoying but people are allowed to do as they please and draw what they want.

I don’t understand why there’s a popular trend of a “Human” Pathfinder being chubby/gender divergeant/Non-binary/trans/queer/lgbtq AND autistic all rolled into one? Like a lot of ppl draw him like that and I just don’t vibe. If you’re still reading you should know it’s not actually because of “diversity” reasons, it’s I guess a lot of ppl are projecting onto him (and maybe I am too?) but it doesn’t feel like it would fit his character at all? First of all, love POC Pathfinder, that’s the one thing everyone gets right so love that. Okay but like, the body types?? You do realize he’d be buff as shit and absolutely JACKED right? He canonly has an interest in sports, especially his boxing, I know y’all might be projecting or whatever with soft boy uwu, but realistically if he were human he’d be 6′2 and absolutely a force to be reckoned with. Also yes, athletes can be “chubby” but it’s a completely different body type with muscle tone vs just “soft and chub.” I often see ppl give Pathfinder a bodytype like a housewife, which while yes he is male wife material, I just can’t see him looking like that and still being able to kick ass. Second is the gender thing, A lot of people refuse to use he/him for pathfinder and use everything else. That is defiantly a projection thing and its most likely a tumblr thing because “men are bad” but my god I seem to be the only one here who actually wants to keep pathfinder as a boy. I think he’d have as strong sense of himself and he would love bullshit like “being one of the boys” with mirage and octane and such, but he’d be confident enough in himself to be feminine without losing his masculinity.  While yes you can argue hes a MRVN and wouldn’t understand gender and he can be whatever he wants, and that’s valid if you wanna do that go for it, personally I think he understands society and social status like that and I feel he’s chosen to be a boy. He does have a lot of traditionally masculine traits to his personality.

However that said, I also love to see him rocking girly outfits and skirts and shit, but the catch is that he can do that while still maintaining his he/him pronouns, which is really just setting a good example that gendered clothing is bullshit and men should be allowed to wear what they want without losing their sense of self or masculinity.  On to sexuality, honestly I can’t say too much about this it just irks me when it’s combined with the gender issues above so ppl can avoid calling him “straight” or whatever because “straight bad” and again that’s a tumblr thing, but if you ask me this boy is bisexual as hell and I will die on that grave. Again to each their own but I can’t see him having these gender shifts AND the sexuality obscurity on top of it. And finally why does everyone make him nerodivergant or autistic? and I don’t mean like just saying he has it, because he def does, but they like plaster it like it’s the main attraction of his character and I just hate that. It’s an issue of the loud minority. Its like saying a character is suddenly better if you change nothing about them but say “oh they are autistic!” it doesnt make a hero any better or worse, and it doesnt make a villian any redeemable or worse. Whenever I see ppl plaster pathfinder with “autsitic uwu” it makes me, an autistic person, want to scream. Like don’t do that!! You can hc whatever but don’t make it his main personality factor!! You have other traits that come with it, like creativity or really smart, or hyperfixations and personality that way, autistic is not a main carrying personality trait please!?

At the end of the day I’m not going to dictate what ppl draw and like i said i still like some artists who do this, and if you think I’m talking about you and “complaining” I’m not im just venting, I don’t feel pathfinder is accurate represented in most art but that’s just my opinion. It’s like how I don’t like seeing him with revenant since in canon now they have beef so I feel the ship is unhealthy, but yet revfinder is still the most popular ship for him. I even still like some art, but like damn its annoying tho constantly seeing it. I guess I just wanna break and see some fresh takes on pathfinder that aren’t this extremist projection of the opposite of the “norm” and that ALSO isnt just boring white boy fuck boi pathfinder. :(

[poppythewitcher]

SPN hell binge Episode 1

Yippe kayay Mother Fuckers, Let’s do this! (edited in the morning or grammar)

Should I watch the recap?

Is that cheating?

I mean It’ll set up the season?

But it it cheating?

Like I’m supposed to get context like when you start a comic half way through

I’m gonna watch the recap just cause I know I won’t even understand that

Aw the cw logo, lets you know you’re getting into some shit

oooo decapitations

what how many of them are there

their voices don’t sound like I imagined

Fuck i kinda forgot Jeffery Dean Morgan was in this

You expect me to take these fuckers seriously where their father, the root of their daddy issues, is Denny fucking Duquette

I’m still confused who the fuck is Jack

I think he’s the antichrist

Listen the practical FXs tho

why is half the recap just a zombie fight

is this the beginning of the this episode or like the end of the last?

oh wait it was the last

listen I get continuity but the fucking font the credits are in makes me want to die

Gay angel can commune with the dead that’s nice

Why did they think that flimsy ass thing will hold the door

“He said welcome to the end what does that mean” the network is finally pulling the plug on this shit show

i love the casual discussion of smiting

I relate to dean in that I too have daddy issues and hate sky-daddy

Is Sam the only function one on this show?

Nope he let the zombies into the crypt

oooops the antichrist is awake

oh its a demon not the antichrist

demon with fashion sense

a demon talking about being a demon the way I talk about working at Starbucks

I like how Sam’s like yeah Cas, give your blood to the minimum wage demon who just met that is currently inhabiting the body of some kid we all really cared about

Nothing could go wrong with that

wait what that fucking worked

how did the minimum wage demon fix God’s mess

okay random teens because horror tropes of violence against young “stupid” women who are just enjoying their lives because it’s easier to enjoy the thing when the male gaze and patriarchal culture not only fetishizes violence against women but it makes the horror easier to watch because it’s not as scary when the victim is a vapid and brainless teenage girl, thus making the male viewer feel secure because his ego tells him that he is stronger and smarter than these weak female and therefore would not fall victim to the monster even though that makes no sense in this context when their main demographic is gen-z girls,gay and theys.

also who gave the camera to the guy with hand tremor what was that shaking

When you have to kill a character but the actor still needs to pay the bills

are they literally just gonna spend the whole season tracking down runaway ghosts this is gonna be worse than I thought

Like is that really Jensen Ackles’s voice is doesn’t sound real

ooo spooky car crash

Wait woman in white wasn’t that the fucking pilot i watched that

oh god really all the fucking monsters of the week are back fuck me what have I gotten myself into

Why is this show trying to be a fucking 80s horror movie now we have a poor housewife and her daughter being haunted by ghosts really

and its not just that its the cinematography and the lighting like the whole fucking mise en scen

its a fun aesthteic but goddamn did they really milk 15 season out of this shit? did anyone actually watch after season 12?

motherfucker a killer clown wow

Like I feel like they’re making they’re voices deeper on purpose

I’m sorry what in the living fuck is this dumb ass FBI shirt that Sam is wearing that does not look real you are not fooling anyone honey has this really been your shtick for 15 fucking years and you look like THAT holy fucking hell it genuinely looks like the costume department is barely trying

Mr. Trench coat honestly looks more believable

wait is minimum wage demon a neanderthal

And he;s hitting on one half or the queer baiting wonder twins great

Minimum wage demon: “who was he”

me: “wouldn’t we all like to know”

I mean me. I would like to know thank you minimum wage demon for getting me this info

So he’s they’re kid that’s nice

Wait

So the queer baiting wonder twins had a FUCKING CHILD TOGETHER

holy fuck they weren’t kidding this really is hell

the blood stains are really good like a little bright for being old dried blood but still the practical FX slaps and I’m already starting to think that’s the show’s one redeeming quality

That child is defffffff possessed

This thing is giving me flashbacks to early quarantine when my ex made me watch killer klowns for outer space on Netflix party would not reccomend

I mean I wouldn’t reccomend this either but

Who’s Rowena

Why is the angle that low and harsh on the minimum wage demon being a fan boy like really why

Why is it a dutch too

I just want to talk to the cinematographer and see if he’s okay

Like It went to a stand eye level over the shoulder and then nack to the super harsh low dutch what’s going on

Also Who’s Micheal

Like Micheal the angel?

Is Micheal an angel? idk

why does Cas readily hand out the info that he’s an angel

Sam shot god and honestly fucking mood

is it just Sam or does every one get fucked up if they try to hurt sky-daddy cause that’s kind of a dick move

I feel like I’m supposed to recognize the MILF in white but I haven’t seen the show so IDK

What’s with the whole human sacrifice heart thing like is that standard here

I thought they were going door to door they literally only went to the one house

the killer klown from outer space is back and he has friends

I love how Cas is just like offend and exasperated over being shot

and then just fucking La Llorona makes an appearance

are the spell in fucking Latin on this show

this is why I’m a Witcher stan like at least Sapkowski’s creative an used a different dying language

why does Sam have to stay be hind like in theory they could just sprint

and he picked up the kid he’s like the one functional one here

Sam just told the killer klown from outer space to shut up and honestly same

I have 5 minutes left and it feel like it’s been an eternity

how many times have they been uncomfortably thanked by a little girl on this show cause I feel like the answer is too many

Why is the pie man such a bitch to his husband like way to press against the whole queer baiting wonder twins thing we get it you’re uncomfortable with your character’s repressed bisexuality please maybe chill you made the gay angel sad

even the minimum wage demon gets it

that looks infected

oh yeah dean’s oldest daughter syndrome is back that’s nice

I feel like I see the appeal of this show and how it could be good but then it went to hell

Wait are they actually god now what the fuck

like is this whole season just some Nietzsche bullshit okay

why does dean say just you and me? You also have a gay angel and a minimum wage demon

Final thoughts: I’m going to bed. I’ll do more tomorrow. This really is a dumpster fire. What have I gotten myself into

[leilas-digital-scrapbook-blog]

Giving Love a Bad Name – Confessions of a Fanfiction Writer

I know we’re supposed to blog about our major projects this week and I promise I will get to that soon, but I’d like to go off book for a moment to address something that’s been bugging me since last Thursday’s class. As someone who’s always tried to engage with fandom in as creative a way as possible, I hoped a class on user generated content would offer a fresher perspective than the usual amount of prejudice and self-righteous superiority that sadly seem to accompany the subject of fanfiction even amongst people that make stories and their passion for it their bread and butter.

Guess I should have known better.

In the world of professional writers, fanfiction is still a filthy word. It sums up everything that’s wrong with the people you’re sharing your stories with: the obsessiveness, the entitlement, the disregard for boundaries, the penchant for making everything about sex. Worse, gay sex, as unspeakably dirty as it’s hilarious. Be warned, writers: if you make it big, your stories will inevitably become a free-for-all at the mercy of those people. A worse fate than even George R. R. Martin could wish on his own characters.

I’m used to seeing the world of fanfiction belittled and disparaged, of course, and I’m the first to admit that the community is often its own worst enemy. But for some reason it still hurt a little to sit in class and listen to people I’ve come to like and respect during these past few months buy into every bad stereotype associated with the form. Not because I felt called out (though yes, I do write fanfiction from time to time, and I happen to quite enjoy reading it too), but because of the underlying assumptions that 1. something that’s not 100% original cannot be art, it’s a violence in fact, especially if it twists someone else’s creation into something it was never meant to be (in this case, queer representation); and 2. there’s something wrong with creating exclusively out of love, without ever expecting to be paid for it. And I have Strong Opinions on that.

So let’s talk about fanfiction.

Actually, scratch that, let’s talk about my favorite subject – yours truly. As you may have gathered by now, I love fanfiction. A whole fangirly lot. My gateway drug into it was my obsession with Lost about 10 years ago and its pesky habit of offing every character I was foolish enough to get attached to. But lo! Someone was keeping them alive through their stories! I felt blessed. I got to spend more time in a world I loved, and I stopped flirting with the idea of giving up on the show every time another character I liked bit the dust. Everybody won.

Even more than as a fan, though, I appreciated the world of possibilities that fanfiction opened up to me as a non-native speaker. I come from a small town in the north of Italy; the access I had to foreign books in their original language was limited, and if I wanted to read something in English I’d have to spend quite a lot of money on one of the very few novels (usually chunky airport bookshop thrillers or housewife romances – not exactly my preferred genres) that shared a single shelf in the bookstore with German, French, Spanish titles. But fanfiction was free, accessible, and there was so much of it. If I didn’t like a story, all I needed to do was move on to the next. Suddenly there was an infinite library of engaging stories to help me make my English better. True, they didn’t all read like a published novel would – there’s a lot of unpolished, error-plagued, stream-of-consciousness-y material out there. But there are also so, so many beautifully written works, and believe me, even for a non-native speaker it’s very easy to spot the difference.

Fanfiction also gave me the chance and motivation to practice my English writing in a way school never could have done. I’ve been writing my own stories since I could hold a pen, but I didn’t dare write in English until I was a fanfiction-loving teenager. It was a marketing decision, really – my first foray into writing fanfiction was for a fandom so small that I wouldn’t be surprised to find out I’m the only Italian representative, so if I wanted any kind of feedback on my work I’d have to suck it up and try my hand at writing in a language that didn’t come natural to me. I would never argue that the feedback I got on my works made me a better writer – contrary to popular opinion, the fanfiction community is made up of the nicest, most supportive people, and alas, you’ll never get a comment on everything you did wrong with your structure or even just pointing out common grammar mistakes from them (though I was lucky enough to have someone explain to me how dialogue punctuation works differently in English than in Italian, so I guess something can be learned even from the Internet). It did motivate me to keep writing, though, and that made me a better writer. If you think I’m being too dramatic, dishing out this monster of a post nobody asked for just to declare my eternal devotion to fanfiction, it’s because it’s personal to me. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been told that I write in English as well as native speakers, and fanfiction is a big part of why that’s true. I doubt I would even be in this course if it wasn’t for it.

And then, of course, there’s the gay thing. I’m not going to argue about how heteronormativity sucks and representation matters because I’m sure everyone’s as sick of talking about it as I am, but please try to understand how it felt for a gay person like me, used to be depicted in media as a plot device or token secondary-character representation if at all, to be able to step into a world where queerness was the default for once. Where queer protagonists had meaningful queer love stories and queer friends and got to save the world from the Apocalypse too. Or to fight the Empire or go to Hogwarts or everything else fictional straight people have had a right to do since the dawn of storytelling in addition to romancing the hottie of their choice. I’m not asking you to feel as passionately about it, of course, but (especially if you’re straight) you might try and empathize the next time you think a fanart of two boys kissing is something deserving of your amused contempt.

I hope I’m not coming across as the person that screams “homophobe” at everyone who disagrees with her because I guarantee that’s not what I’m trying to do here, but I think the general distaste for slash says a lot about the way our society sees heterosexual relationships as love and homosexual relationships as sex. Yes, there’s a lot of gay porn in the world of fanfiction. But you know what you’re most likely to find? Romance. Not in the saucy literary sense of the word, but in its simpler, most literal acceptation. Fanfiction is just one more way for humans to express themselves, after all, and love has always been front and center in our art. Love, not sex – even if it’s gay. In fact, explicit material doesn’t even make up the majority of what you’ll find on a fanfiction website. Don’t worry, I don’t want anyone to taint their souls by visiting one of those dens of iniquity so I pulled some stats myself. Here’s the number of works for each rating in three of the most popular fandoms on Archive Of Our Own, the current go-to website for the fanfiction community (sorry Fanfiction.net) – Harry Potter, Supernatural and the Marvel Cinematic Universe as of 9/3/2019:

Even counting both Mature and Explicit works as straight-up porn (which I don’t think is quite fair, but that’s a discussion for another day), they only make up less than 1/3 of the material. Kinda disappointing, for a medium that’s supposed to be all about filthy graphic gay sex. Imagine if only one in three musicals actually featured singing and dancing, or superheroes weren’t in the majority of superhero movies. They’re lucky fanfiction is shared for free, or I’d be screaming for my money back.

Maybe I’ve just been brainwashed by SJWs, though, and this has nothing to do with my being an immigrant or a lesbian. Maybe my inability to see what’s so bad about appropriating someone else’s intellectual property for your own amusement is a cultural thing. I apologize – as mentioned, I’m Italian, and we all know Ancient Roman culture was basically just a ripoff of everything those inventive Greeks came up with. It’s in our blood. Hell, our 2€ coin, the biggest, has the face of Dante Alighieri on it, a writer most famous for having written 14.000+ verses of self-insert real-person-fic in which the girl he fancied as a teenager, his favorite author, and God himself all fall over themselves to tell him how awesome he is and he gets to prophesy an eternity in Hell for his political enemies. Talk about wish-fulfilling entitlement. Not to mention all those creatively arid Renaissance “artists” celebrated for stealing characters from the Bible and Greek mythology (seriously, the fact that Greece hasn’t unleashed an army of lawyers on us yet is nothing short of a miracle) and putting them in their cheesy paintings. Other countries can rely on a much stronger moral backbone and endless imagination – I’m sure Shakespeare, Milton, Goethe, those creative geniuses at Disney and countless others never had to resort to something as cheap and despicable as borrowing other people’s characters to tell the stories they wanted to tell.

Either way, I can’t help it – I see the prospect of creating something that will resonate with people so strongly that they’ll make it a part of themselves, that it’ll compel them to make more art, to reach out and connect with other fans, as something incredibly beautiful rather than scary. Maybe this is my usual naiveté speaking, and I will come to eat my words. It’s certainly disturbing that a bunch of entitled fans bullied the Mass Effect developers into changing the series’ ending, and sending actors explicit fanart of themselves is straight-up harassment, but is fanfiction really the problem here? Or is it social network culture, with its power to destroy all barriers and foster hive mind? To give resentment a platform to spread and be heard? I promise that the average fanfiction writer wouldn’t campaign to get an ending changed. They’d just roll up their sleeves and write a better one themselves.

[believerindaydreams]

boo in the night

"Help?"

Tuco doesn't whisper it very loudly. Just audibly enough to attract Angel's attention, should the man happen to be awake. The lack of response is just a trifle ominous. 

Sort of a problem, sort of not. He assumes the film projector will take care of itself (well, he hopes it will); and the sofa's plush as ever. Only Angel Eyes appears to have fallen asleep atop of him, and the man's quite a bit bigger than he is. With him lying horizontal and Angel having slumped over sideways, he's in exactly the right position to serve as a full-body pillow and be drooled on. Be hard to move without being rather unkind to some rather delicate bits of anatomy. 

If it was Blondie, he'd just shove his partner a bit, or yell to wake him up. He doesn't entirely dare to do either, so...going back to sleep's not exactly an option, the trouble he's having breathing. That's probably what woke up up in the first place.

At least Angel's not drooling on him. Sleeping very quietly in fact; and that utter relaxation, the awareness of another's comfort, at least has its usual soothing effect on him. It's a kind thing, to feel and know for sure that even someone as tight and nervy as Angel Eyes can have a soft moment like this, just to be...Tuco pulls his hand up awkwardly, squeezes it in under Angel's chest. Just enough leverage for him to catch a proper breath, if a shallow one. As long as he doesn't mind his hand going to sleep-

he doesn't know how he knows. Angel's not moved and the cadence of his breath hasn't changed, but now the other man's awake.

Well. That's awkward, he hasn't been snoring. So Angel probably knows he's awake....and the thought occurs to him, that for all the sex dungeon kit and mirrors he's yet to see Angel actually express interest in performing the act. Blondie was very reticent- hell, this man's not straight, is he? Or the kind of straight that will top people he respects, and do god knows what to people he doesn't. 

Fucking hell, who even knows they came here? And Blondie had been so anxious, that other night- maybe he'd known something-

"What's wrong?" Angel demands. Sharply, urgently. Not after the fashion of a man who's only just awoken. 

"I don't know." He lets himself whimper it. Might as well sound as vulnerable as he feels, if he can't manage unconcerned. "Something frightened me."

Angel gets off him, finally, and Tuco sucks in a huge grateful breath at last. That's all he needed, really. 

He turns over a little, enough to protect himself when Angel comes back, and goes pleasantly to sleep again. 

******************** "Intruders?" Susan says blankly, at breakfast. "Surely not."

"It's a possibility," Angel Eyes growls, not looking the slightest bit happy. "Tuco here woke up last night and says something unaccountable happened."

If he'd known this was going to be such a disaster, he'd have fessed up then. Angel's been running around the place all morning, anxious and paranoid and asking him any number of questions about what he thinks might have happened. That Angel has further picked up on the notion that he's too frightened to tell the truth, is a distinctly awkward thing. He digs into the three-cheese omelet with rather less enjoyment than usual. 

"Maybe it was nothing. Maybe I heard a bird and it woke me up."

"Better safe than sorry." Angel says. "I've checked the whole estate as best I can. Nothing seems to be missing, but I'm certainly fretting."

If this is what it's like being rich, maybe he doesn't want it after all. "Well. Then if I'm here and you're here and so is everything else, are we good?"

"And I'll do it all again after breakfast. This is not a state of affairs I'm comfortable with."

Tuco very nearly pipes up then, to say that's not fair. Today they'd agreed to have a trip out, so he can do a little shopping and pick up a few things he needs- it'd been easier to bring the subject up, after the subject of money had been introduced. Angel Eyes had been willing enough yesterday, or at least it’s seemed that way. Maybe that's what this is about, maybe the man's just stingy. 

"You know what it is? I was awake, I was nervous and couldn't think because I couldn't breathe. You fell asleep on top of me is all, so I woke you up. That's all that happened."

"He would not," Susan says. Not with any particular heat in her voice, but with such certainty as to completely discount the possibility. "That's not like Angel Eyes in the slightest."

"He did," Tuco says, rather grumpily. Lying's fair in love and poker, but just contradicting him like that seems plain rude. "It was a pretty cute thing, too. His hair is very soft."

He immediately wishes he hadn't said that. Susan looks revolted; but Angel's already harsh expression takes on so much anger, and simple self-disgust, that he has to wonder why. It can't be the queer thing, can it? Susan must know already. (Last night’s more speculative concerns seem absurd, in the light of morning.)

"Okay, so don't believe me. Go ahead and hunt for burglars all you please, but I told you the truth now." Just to empathize the point, he puts down his fork, crosses his arms. "Anybody can have a nightmare."

"Including myself, evidently," Angel Eyes mutters. He leaves the room without another word. 

Maybe it's shallow of him, to be unhappy about this because he's missing a day out- but damnit, there was a promise and it looks like it'll be honoured in the breach. This kind of treatment, waiting on someone else's sufference, he's lived a bare and risky life so he'd never have to endure that again. He's not planning to start now. "Hey, Susan? If he's going to be like this, would you let me borrow your car?"

"If he thinks it's safe," Susan says, with trustful loyalty. 

"Like hell. Fine. I'll walk." Tuco picks up his fork again, starts in on the eggs again with more determination than enjoyment. 

"No, don't- don't do that," Susan says hastily. "He can get- a little paranoid, sometimes. He lost someone very dear to him once."

"Who, Blondie?"

"...someone before then. And Blondie didn't help his worries about that, not one little bit.”

"Out of the frying pan, into the fire." Trading in one romantic for another, what marvelous luck he's got. 

Susan puts down the spatula to glare at him. "Was that meant to be a joke?"

**********

“Hey, Angel? Look. I’m sorry.” 

"You have nothing to be sorry about," Angel Eyes says, rather mulishly. (He's right, but it still surprises Tuco to hear it.) "I'm the one who's perturbed- and not by anything you've done, either. I shouldn't have fallen asleep like that last night." 

"Angel, you nap all the time. What's the problem?" 

 "Not when I- not when I'm not expecting it. Not by accident." 

 "I'll remember that, next time you leave me in the lurch with Baker," Tuco jokes; Angel scowls. He's cute when he makes faces like that. Not like Blondie being so restrained all the time.

"I'm not inclined to trust very easily. Forgive me for saying this, but I didn't think I trusted you like that." 

Fair enough; he wouldn’t. "Well, a man can't help his instincts- but when you wake up, you go on not trusting me and I'll go on not trusting you and we'll be happy together, ok?" 

"You really do seem to think it's that simple, don't you," Angel muses. He looks up again. "Exactly what have I done, to make you not trust me?" 

"At the moment, nothing except you said we were going out after breakfast, and we're not going out yet," Tuco says lightly. "Not to sound like a bored housewife, but I need a new safety razor. And a few other things." 

"There's some in the linen cupboard upstairs." 

"Yeah, those are the kind Blondie uses. I like a different one- don't think you can just swap me in for him, you know. We don't work like that." 

There's something very curious, about the look Angel's giving him now. "Something wrong?" 

"Deja vu. Never mind, we'll get going."

He manages not to cheer, just about. 

[5lazarus]

severa would probably discover she's trans the same way i did, knowing something isn't the way everyone insists it is but knowing better than talk about it out loud. my favourite headcanon is that post war she's out and won't let anyone question her no matter how exhausting fighting them is.

Yeah, that’s how I view Severa and her journey in finally being out and comfortable with her gender identity–definitely after the war. I think it was cokeworthcauldron who drew or shared this great photo of her in this very 70s pink sundress, the sort her housewife mother would’ve worn on a hot summer’s day. Immediately made me think of the women in my neighborhood in the late 90s, cis and trans, hair messily pinned up and cigarettes in their mouths, growling at the kids who splashed a little close to the stoop. There’s a part of me that wants Snape to be a landlady in the Lower East Side or the East Village in the 80s–it started getting too yuppy by the time she would’ve escaped. But I see her as a grumpy old woman in somewhat careless clothes–but always dresses and spacious skirts–sitting out on the stoop or in the park with a cigarette and a mug or a flask, depending on the hour, too much Snape to actually talk to people, but too Snape not to be included. Hustling chess, having great sex, trading very nasty barbs with younger women about make-up–and being the one everyone goes to when they need a mystery solved, a hurt taken care of, something hidden, advice given. She knows everything and everyone–those eyes see all. I think Snape would have been very happy in New York in the 80s, or London in the 80s, or Berlin. One of those characters who would thrive in big cities where you’re not expected to smile at everyone, especially when mutual loathing is involved. When being fake is hateful and being petty is somewhat encouraged.For my part, Snape helped me figure out I was nonbinary, and the character’s been helping me grow more comfortable with creating a more androgynous style when I’d been forbidden to dress anything but pencil skirts and heels as a young teen. (My dad wanted me to be a 1950s housewife; it’s better now that I’m not living at home and he’s medicated and in therapy–my mother was the bad one) I change Snape’s name depending on how I’m feeling on the spectrum. Snape plays a pretty important role in my imaginary.With my headcanon, I tend to view Severus as genderqueer, he/him and they/them pronouns. Sometimes I see him as a trans man, but that depends on how I’m reading other characters’ attacks on Snape’s “masculinity”–are they forcing masculinity on her, or attacking him for lacking?What I love about the Harry Potter fandom, and Snape in particular, is how it becomes what we need. Snape is trans. Snape is queer. Snape swathed her body in robes to deal with dysphoria, hiding her body away so no one could misgender her. And best of all–she didn’t give a fuck about beauty standards, she was a professional woman.Also, on thinking that Snape couldn’t be out until after the war–you brought up on another post how everyone in the Harry Potter verse would be TERFs. I so strongly agree. (I don’t think Snape would’ve been, I think Snape just wouldn’t ever want to comment on another person’s gender and sexual orientation, just not being comfortable enough to talk about people that way.)And I think Voldemort especially would have espoused the worst transphobic rhetoric. The old pureblood families probably would’ve been the worst. (and now I’m reading Lucie Malfoy as a trans woman as well, and that’s part of how the two banded together–and Narcissa is the one who helps her wife and girlfriend get ready for the weekend away from work) And then that makes Snape’s position even more difficult–hiding her sexuality), repressing herself, and then constantly attacked for not being “man” enough by Sirius. Ha, if only he knew–oh ye gods let them not know. And so I hope Severa gets her way to New York, and goes wild every summer away from Hogwarts.

[forkanna]

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NOTE:  Yes this one is super short, too. Sorry! Next one will be better.

Let's skip to a couple days later. Not much else happened other than smarmy grossness. Of course, that still wouldn't be the usual level of pure, grade-A Canadian maple sap given that I was part of the relationship, but it was cute. Lots of takeout and movies, gaming, snuggling. Things that I had to get used to since none of my previous significant others had ever stuck around long enough.

Well… other than Scott.

Maybe that's why he was on my mind so much during that time. Literally the only other long-term relationship I'd had was him, and we were in high school, trying to figure ourselves out as much as we were trying to figure out each other and how to combine those two factors. Opening up those memories was like watching him drive away all over again, but I kept doing it. Had to figure out if there was some weird nugget of truth in there somewhere that could help me figure out how not to fuck everything up with Knives.

Scott and I didn't "date" much. It was definitely a benefriends situation; we were buds who started boinking in the back of my parents' car. So all of our activities were about the same as they had been before; practicing music, hanging out with Lisa Miller. We didn't do much that was coupley other than holding hands and sex. From what I heard, Scott got all those romantic experiences from Natalie after he dropped me like a bad habit.

So why did I keep thinking about him if there wasn't much wisdom to be had? Because I didn't have any other experiences to compare it with.

I'm pretty pathetic. But at least I had someone to call and ask for advice. He might not be the most monogamous person I know, but he is a flaming queer, and has had more success in the dating arena than pretty much anyone else in my extended circle. Maybe using my phone-a-friend lifeline counted as cheating, but when working with such a severe handicap, I figure it all shakes out.

                                                            ~ o ~

"Well, well, well," Wallace Wells half-purred in that voice of his. You know the one. "The redhead."

"That is the colour of my hair, yes," I grumbled.

"Didn't expect to ever hear from you again once Ess Bee Bee and that other thing broke up. See you around in that bump-into-people-you-knew-through-people-in-Honest-Ed's way, sure…"

Gripping my drumstick tighter as I sat on my drumset's seat — the seat of power, a place from which I drew comfort and ability to cope with life — I said, "Same. But I got your number from Stacey, because… I need help."

"'Fraid I'm fresh outta that stuff."

"Help? You're 'out' of help. Really?"

"Yep. The generic kind. But if you elaborate, I might have a specific flavour blend in stock…"

He was definitely going to make me work for this. So I decided to stop being shy and cut through the double-talk and uncertainty. "I'm dating Knives."

The line was quiet for a moment. "That sounds painful. My advice is to buy plenty of bandages for when things get frisky."

"No, Knives Chau. Scott's ex."

"Oh!" he said in a pleasant tone of voice. Even now, I'm not totally sure whether he was trolling me or if he really didn't think I meant her the first time. "She was cute in a Pokémon trainer kind of way. Didn't think you played in the kiddie pool."

"She's in college now, you asshat. But I could use some advice."

"Advice for dating women? Fresh out of that, too."

Gritting my teeth, I said, "Wallace…"

"Alright, alright. So you're edging onto the Rainbow Road and you're afraid of flying off the side. I gotcha. Assuming that's the reason you called me instead of someone else you know…?"

"There's nobody else. Stephen's pretty much the only other person I could call, but he gives terrible advice. Hollie is in Nowhereville with Jason, who knows? And Steph… I just don't know her very well. Or maybe too well. I'm really not sure which."

"That makes me the bartender."

"What?"

"You know, the nameless bartender you tell all your deepest, darkest secrets to in hopes he can give you guidance because you're too blasted to figure out he couldn't care less about your life."

"Fine, nevermind. God, sorry to have bothered you."

But he was chuckling. "Alright, alright. I'm half-kidding; I barely know you and don't care that much, but you're family now. That has to be taken into consideration."

"I'm… family?"

"Gay family. A budding bisexual, right?"

"Y-yeah." I cleared my throat to get rid of that uncertain quaver. "I guess."

"We all start out 'guessing'. It's okay." He let out a long sigh, and there was the sound of something being moved around; he was probably working on something in his apartment, or at his job. Whatever that was. "How long have you two been having playdates?"

"A couple weeks, or whatever," I growled, ignoring the insult.

"How far have you gone?" When I let out a strangled noise, he reassured me, "For informational purposes only. Trust me, I'm not going to get off on two girls doing anything. If there's not at least one dick involved, it's off my curiosity list."

I started to correct him that one was involved, but again I felt that instinct to protect her identity kick in. Maybe I should ask her if she minded me telling people at some point. "Dry-humping. She's kind of… never done it, and I haven't done it with a girl. I swear, if you tell anyb-"

"Lips are sealed. Do you want it to go further?"

"YES! But I mean, only if she's ready."

"Good, that's good. I've had a hesitant date or two. No still means no, and that's more important than all the prep work in the world, but I have a couple ideas that could help get her in the mood."

That one hit me hard. Luckily, I just barely listened to her "no"s when we were drunk as skunks. Nodding as I chewed on my drumstick, I then put it down and said, "That'll help, but I'm actually more worried about… other stuff. Like, how to be in a relationship with a cute, bubbly, fun girl when I'm a vortex of despair."

"Opposites attract. Chances are, she already likes you because you're a vortex of despair. Not usually something people put on their eHarmony profile, though." But apparently, I had him curious. "What other stuff?"

"Dating. I suck at it. Like…" I tried to lower my defenses. "She's so sweet to me, and I feel like I'm just there. Sucking all the fun out of the room. I want her to feel what I feel. Or I guess, to show her that. Something."

"Awww, baby lesbians are so cute. Like puppies."

"Ugh…"

Then he sighed again, a long, floaty sigh of someone toying with someone else. Which would be me. "Alright, never fear — Wallaciraptor is here. Let's help you get rolling…"

                                                            ~ o ~

When Knives walked in the door, I could tell she was caught off-guard by the way her purse fell to the floor instead of being set down. "Kim? I… what's going on?"

"Nothing," I lied as I bent over to take the casserole out of the oven, showing off my bare ass. Just below the apron strings. Yes, I really did the cliché. Yes, it was super uncomfortable for me, since I'm not exactly a flesh-flashing kinda girl. But I thought, hey, it was worth a shot. "Making dinner."

Which was also part of the plan. There were multiple parts; I didn't know which one to try, so I tried everything. One big gesture to try and prove to both Knives and myself that I could be a girlfriend, and not just some drummer chick who acts like she's on the rag all the time.

"Yeah, but you're naked! I mean… almost!"

"You like it? I thought the green apron brought out my eyes." It still came out sounding sarcastic, even though I didn't mean for it to. My voice just sounds that way unless I'm actively suppressing the biting tone, and even then sometimes it bleeds through.

"Um…" Deciding not to comment on my butt, she turned toward the stove. "Smells great! We're having casserole?"

"Yes. And garlic bread. That's not done yet, though. And, um…" I glanced at my coffee table, where there was a cabernet open and "breathing" — Wallace's suggestion. I would have just put a couple of beers down to go with dinner, or at least uncorked the wine right before drinking it.

Knives walked over and touched one of the wine glasses with a finger. I got them from a dollar store specifically for this occasion, since I didn't own any before. Then she picked up the remote for the stereo system, which was pretty conspicuous because it was the only other thing on the table. "What's this do?"

"Hit 'play'," I said as I got out plates.

She did. And quiet, soft, romantic piano music started floating out of the speakers. Also from the dollar store, but I listened to the whole CD before using it to make sure it wasn't too terrible. She laughed… but it was a very specific, actual happy laugh. Not so much at my expense as just surprised at the situation, I guess.

"What is all this?" she asked as she went back over to kick off her work shoes and leave them by the purse. "Like… I thought we were just going to have cup ramen and watch TV."

"Wanted to try something else. Um… y-you'll have to tell me if it's any good. Never tried this recipe before." Hell, I don't think I'd ever cooked anything more complex than a frozen pizza in forever.

Once she was in the kitchen, she put her hand in the small of my back. "I'm sure I'll love it." Then she shivered and smiled shyly, withdrawing from the touch. "Not used to touching your skin like that."

"I can change if it's more comfortable for you. This was kind of just… y'know. The 'naked housewife fantasy' bit as a joke. Or maybe not a joke, if you liked it."

"Trying to get me in the mood?" she guessed with a slightly wry smile. When I flushed a little darker, she stopped smiling. "Wait… oh, is this really what that is?"

"Not exactly. But… kind of. I just… wanted to be a good girlfriend, or something like that. I dunno."

The silence was kind of tense. She didn't look angry, just a little confused and contemplating the whole situation. Then she glanced at the oven and back at me.

"How much longer? For the garlic bread."

"About another five. I'll be quick." Clearly, she wanted me in real clothes, which I already had laid out on my dresser. Ready for plan B.

And I was more okay with that than I first expected. Sure, it hurt a little that she didn't know how to feel about me being naked while we ate, but at the same time, neither did I. Just seemed like a weird idea. But Wallace swore it worked like a charm on this one guy he was dating, so I figured I'd give it a shot. No real harm.

Once I was wearing a nice white blouse and a long grey skirt, we got our plates loaded down with casserole and bread and moved things to the table, where we sat cross-legged and ate and drank. She told me about her day, and I told her about mine until the point at which I started getting dinner ready, which I didn't think was interesting — until she started demanding more details with her cute, patient way of doing everything. Incredibly, stories about me buying ingredients and wine glasses was actual entertainment for her.

And somehow, she managed to out-girlfriend me again. Shut up, I know it's not a competition… I know. But even after I drove like a thousand miles outside my comfort zone, hoping to really show her how much I cared and how much she meant to me, Knives was already there and had a jetpack to fly even further. She started doing the dishes as soon as we took our plates to the kitchen, said it was her turn to cook next time when I wasn't expecting it, asked if I had a long day, offered to rub my back when I moved my neck and made the world's tiniest wince… and she gave me the rub, and it felt so good. Told me I looked really cute in the outfit before I could ask. Sweetness and sunshine.

What kind of jerk was she to be so perfect?

                                                            To Be Continued…