#but my trans studies class is technically called intro to trans studies

[turnip-root]

and actually to make it worse there are three examples provided for what the presentation should look like and they are all kinda nonsensical and also do not follow the (limited) guidelines the prof has given us, so what in the hell do they even want

[zankivich]

Teacher’s Pet: A College AU

First time writing anything like this. Haven’t written fic in so long and this is what came out. Never written for Shawn before, but if ya like let me know. I technically wrote more parts to it. :) 

You changed outfits five different times that first day. Your first day as a TA for the intro to feminism course that one of your mentors was teaching, and you seemed to be buying into the patriarchy more than ever. What outfit does a 23 year old wear to be a TA for the first time ever for a class on everything from radical feminism to ecological feminism? Your closet was saying business woman chic, and then grown up emo leather head, and then something straight out of a sketchers commercial. Eventually you settle on something simple—your least distressed jeans and a t-shirt with some witty quote about not disrespecting human lives if you didn’t want to be a complete and total piece of shit. It was all this big optical illusion to come across as the confident, cool TA with the hope that the students wouldn’t eat you alive. You kept your long, auburn curls down and framing your face with the understanding that if anything went drastically wrong you could hide behind the tresses with ease. As class started you took one last sip of the coffee your professor bought you for your first day and strapped in for the ride of a lifetime.

The class was an intro, but it also fulfilled a core class requirement. It was usually for gender studies majors. Usually female, trans, and non-binary dominated in terms of enrollment. But, every now and again you got the men who couldn’t get into their preferred class and were forced to take this one. And if you were lucky, you might even get one who was genuinely interested in learning their role in a patriarchal society.  I could already see a group of them huddled in the background snickering at the syllabus.Thankfully Professor Edwards was leading the intro and all you had to do was remember your name. In the middle of said intro a disheveled ball of energy burst into the room panting and gasping with a backpack slung over their shoulders. They wore a pink hoodie and jeans so tight they left little to the imagination. The pink in their hoodie matched perfectly with their flushed skin as they mumbled an embarrassed apology and quickly took a seat separate from everyone else in the small lecture room.

“You’re just in time for introductions. I’m professor Edwards. You can feel free to call me Kate. Uh, pronouns are she/her. Late person why don’t you take it from there?”

Late person still flustered and nervous ran their fingers through their hair and smiled a smile that subconsciously caused you to straighten your back a little bit.

“I’m Shawn. I-I uh, I’m a senior music technology and psych double major with a minor in music therapy….”

“And your pronouns Shawn?” You cut in.

Speaking of back straightening, Shawn seemed to completely shift his body at the sight of you. It was similar to a puppy raising their head at the sound of their owner arriving home. It was sort of incredibly endearing.

“Pronouns…. I uh—he. He. I go by he.” He stammered.

Along with the curl that seemed to cover his right eye, he was very puppy like. The kind of look that said you could break me if you wanted to, but I’m cute, so like, why would you?

Bless his heart.

The rest of the class went through their introductions, some people fumbling just as much as Late Guy while others could give their pronouns in their sleep. It’s the great thing about an intro course. You get a wide variety of people. At the end of it all you were ether only one left and your professor thought this would be the perfect time to take the absolute piss out of you.

“I’m going to let her do her own introduction, but my TA for this semester is absolutely brilliant. She graduated from Stanford and is gracing our grad department with her excellence while she does her own research on the impact of mental health on Trans Women of Color in the United States.”

You do about as well with being praised as Shawn did with his pronouns, quickly looking down and smiling awkwardly before giving your best impersonation of someone who isn’t shitting their pants for the class.

“Hello everyone. My pronouns are she/her. I’ll be the TA for the semester as Professor Edwards has already pointed out. I’m really looking forward to learning with you all. I love meeting with students and will be hosting office hours all semester. Please feel free to utilize me as a resource, while also understanding that we’re all in this together and just as you are learning, hopefully I will be too.”

You smile as you speak because it’s your passion and you truly mean every word that passes through your lips. Your eyes lock with as many students as possible trying to form that connection that had been so important for you and your professors in undergrad. It isn’t until you’ve finished speaking that your eyes rest on Late Guy again and the dopey smile he’s giving off makes your whole body relax. Along with talking about the things that matter to you, you can’t help but forget all the nerves that had made you change five times earlier that morning. Every student in the room is important, of course, and throughout the rest of the lecture you definitely don’t pick favorites. But, every now again your eyes hit his and it’s a visceral reaction every time. You feel calmer. You feel serene. So, maybe you do let your eyes roam in the direction of that pink hoodie every now and again. What’s the harm in that?

When the lecture comes to a close and people start to pack up their things you’re shocked that you’ve made it through. A couple of students who don’t have class directly after mill around most of them wanting to talk to Dr. Edwards who was extraordinary in her field. You took a much need celebratory sip of coffee before beginning to shuffle your notes from the lecture back into a neatened pile. You and Kate would talk after about how things went, but it ultimately just felt good to finish. You were in the middle of sliding things neatly into your bag when you were alerted to his presence. He stepped up to the table in front of the projector, hands looped through the straps of the backpack draped across his shoulders. He was much taller when he wasn’t trying to sneak into a room. And his eyes, which has just been a regular brown from ten feet away were now show beautiful shades of honey and gold. There was a scar on his cheek that you hadn’t noticed before, and yet you couldn’t help but take full notice now. He was sort of beautiful in a way that made your lungs constrict awkwardly in your chest. It was a feeling you hadn’t felt in quite some time.

“Hi.” He murmured. “I wanted to apologize again… for being late?”

“It’s no biggie. This campus is huge. My first class of undergrad I went to a completely different building then the one my class was in.” You smiled

“Yea, except I’m a senior and I should probably have the hang of things by now. I just… all of my classes are usually in the same two buildings. I’ve never been here before. I—I guess I got lost.”

“You’re here now. No harm done.” You offer kindly.

“Yea, sure. So I was wondering if I could come to your office hours. Those are Wednesday right?”

You cock your head at him.

“Office hours usually don’t start for a couple of weeks, since we haven’t done much quite yet.”

“Oh. Right. Right. Duh. Of course.” He stammered.

His face was quickly taking on the shade of his hoodie again and as much as it was a sight to see, you figured you’d give him a bone.

“If you have questions already I’m happy to meet though. My office is on the syllabus. Just shoot me an email, so I know you’re coming.”

He smiled again and it really was enough to take your breath away.

“Awesome. It was very nice meeting you.”

He reached out his hand, which you gladly took and shook the warm, rough skin of his palm. He kept eye contact the entire time a grin blossoming on his face that was drastically different from the shy blushes from earlier. When he finally pulled his hand away you were left standing there gaping mouth and fried brain. He gave a final nod before disappearing from the room and taking your ability to function with him. Surely it would be one hell of a semester.

* *

Office is a really interesting way to describe what the gender studies department had offered you. It was more of a… broom closet. But you had a window, a love seat, and a desk which was more than most of the people you graduated with were getting elsewhere. You loved your little broom closet. It had character. It was cosy and cute and perfect for grading papers. In fact it seemed to be perfect for just about everything….except for meeting with a cute guy who happened to be your student. Your first day being a TA and the first boy who bats his eyelashes at you had your heart throbbing like a child? It was ridiculous. And yet here you were definitely not checking your face in the camera of your phone.

The knock on the door had you flailing and losing the perfectly composed cool you had been working to establish. You were beginning to wonder if you had any cool at all.

“Come in!”

And in did he come.

Today Shawn was wearing a thin, long-sleeved black shirt with the sleeves pushed up his arms. His backpack was sung over one shoulder today with both of his hands were occupied with Starbucks cups.

“Hey teach. I came straight from a shift. I come bearing gifts. Caramel iced coffee with extra cream and extra Caramel drizzle.” He practically sang sitting a the cup directly in front of you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Shawn that is really sweet… and slightly creepy.”

“Oh no worries. Not stalking you or anything. I just asked the person who usually does your order. You don’t switch it up very much.”

“Create of a habit.” You shrug. “Uh take a seat, please.”

He sat on your couch stretching his long legs out far enough to reach your desk in the small room.

“How can I help?”

“So I have a friend. She came out as Trans last semester, which is kind of the reason I‘m taking the course. I uh don’t know a lot. I’m still struggling with pronouns sometimes. But I want to learn as much as I can. My sister, she’s fifteen and she like knows all of this stuff. I feel a little helpless when people are talking about it back home. I just wanna be a better friend if I can. Plus you’re like a walking encyclopedia on Trans people right? ”

You nod encouragingly grateful to have someone so willing to learn right before you. Most people seem to think that if you don’t know something there’s no point in learning because you’ll be ignorant, but everyone has to start somewhere.

“That’s great Shawn. Dedicating a whole three credit hours to learning more about the world we live in, that’s a really powerful thing. It’s an intro course, so you are going to learn a lot in lecture, but I’m happy to answer any questions that you might have. Also I’m by no means an encyclopedia on anything. It’s just what I’m currently researching due to the drastic lack of representation.”

“Great, this is so awesome.” He grinned before pulling out a notebook that seemed to be full of scribbled handwriting.

You couldn’t help but be grateful that your office hours were set up in three hour blocks.

Time passed relatively easily between the two of you. Shawn really did seem to have so many questions. They ranged from things like how do you address someone if you don’t know they’re pronouns, to what the legal process of changing one’s name looked like in Canada.

“Why Canada?” You asked.

He smiled big and softly at you.

“Oh I’m from there. I have dual citizenship. My dad is from the states, but he met my mom in Canada and that’s where I was born.”

“That explains why you’re so nice.”

“You think I’m nice?” He asked seeming to lean closer towards you across the desk.

“And humble too.” You joked.

He laughed and it really was a glorious sound to the ear. Shawn was easy to talk to and you couldn’t help that the conversation steered helplessly away from feminism. He had a way of complimenting you and then quickly continuing on in the conversation without pause, so that you couldn’t force him to stop. It was maddening….And incredibly sweet.

“You have tattoos.” You noticed out loud staring unabashedly at his arms for no reason at all.

“Uh yea…” He held out his arm before you running his fingers along the ink. “It’s a guitar made out of the Toronto skyline. And then the top is a sound wave of my parents saying, ‘i love you’. I got it when I moved out here for school, just to remember.”

And if that just wasn’t the sweetest shit you’d ever heard in your whole entire life he added insult to injury by giving you another dopey smile that just screamed, “love me”.

“Do you have any ink?” He asked giving the parts of your body that were seeable from the desk a once over that practically turned you inside out.

You nodded quickly slipping out of your jacket and offering your arm for him to see. He stood up quickly from the couch striding over and wrapping his fingers around your arm. And just like when you shook hands, your entire mental capacity depleted.

“It’s a uh portrait of Amy Winehouse. She was my favorite artist growing up and this is my favorite picture of her.” You shrugged finding it difficult to explain how much it meant to you.

“This is fucking sick.”

He ran his thumb along the inside of your wrist and you quickly pulled away before he could investigate further.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” He murmured as if he just knew that it had been difficult for you.

You nodded jerkily and were thankful when he moved on to another topic of discussion. Before you knew it three hours had passed with ease and it was suddenly time to go home. You both began to pack your things up before you flicked the light off and moved to lock the door.

“Can I walk you to your car? Or you know not cause you’re totally capable of doing that yourself. But like, it is dark. So, if you did want another person to be there who understands that you are a strong woman who could probably kick my ass, that would be okay with me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his valiant attempt at not being misogynistic. It was again adorable and endearing making it all the more difficult to keep the lines from being blurred. You were failing epically.

“Smooth. I’m actually not walking to my car though, I live on campus. It’s part of my stipend.”

“You live...here? In the dorms?”

You had begun to walk towards the stairs to leave and he was still very much walking alongside you.

“No They had the good grace to give me one of the apartments for the faculty in residence. It’s good. It’s private. No frat guys puking in the middle of my hallway, ya know?”

“Privacy. Yea no, that’s...important.” He swallowed. “This campus has horrible lighting. I could walk you there. If you wanted.”

Everything in the logical part of your brain said not to let that man anywhere near your home...with a bed...that he would look mighty good on. Surely there were boundaries and this would be one of them and you definitely shouldn’t be having intimate conversations with a student. But then, it would be rude to tell him where he could and couldn’t walk right? Who’s to say he wouldn’t have walked in that direction anyway?! There was nothing scandalizing about two people walking side by side together.

“Sure. You can walk in that general direction with me.” You said.

It was a relatively quiet walk each of you just walking in companionable silence. He bumped you with his shoulder and it had all the tell tale signs of flirting. And instead of shutting it down, you knocked your shoulder right back into his sending a playful sneer up at his six foot frame. By the time you arrived at your apartment, your stomach was full of butterflies or pterodactyls--you couldn’t tell which--and you’d never been so fucked in your whole entire life.

“Thanks for all the help today, teach.” Shawn grinned keeping you from going inside and away from his dumb, beautiful face.

“I’m not ‘teach’. I’m twenty-three for christ’s sake, I’m just a TA.” You shrugged.

He bit his lip, his eyes wandering up and down with a look that devoured you where you stood.

“I don’t know. I feel like there’s lots you could teach me. I’m nothing if not willing to learn.”

His face was innocent and sweet, but his eyes were all fire and brimstone. He was trouble through and through, and you were helpless to stop him.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine in class, with your professor.” You smirked turning to fumble with your keys. “Good night Shawn.”

“Good night.”

Your body moved on auto-pilot closing the door and taking the stairs to get to your apartment. Eventually you made it inside and collapsed on your bed peering up at the ceiling with what must have been the goofiest grin on your face. After all the build up, your body was on edge expecting something, anything to happen. But, he’d just walked away without another word.  It took about twenty minutes of daydreaming of Shawn and his smile and the damn curl that always fell in front of his face for you realize that you were unabashedly crushing on a student.

“Fuck.”

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

Celebrate pride by streaming these queer-as-hell movies and series on Netflix

If you're thinking about watching a movie or television series Netflix has tagged LGBTQ, proceed cautiously. Historically, they're mostly trash.

Exceptions do exist. You just need know where to find them and what you can reasonably expect from a movie called Unfreedom or Margarita with a Straw.

Let us help.

SEE ALSO: We revisited the trauma of watching sex scenes with our parents for your entertainment

Below are a list of LGBTQ-themed streamable movies that won't destroy you this Pride season. Some are good simply because they're accurate, others just have decent boning scenes. Either way, I promise they won't be so bad they'll turn you straight.

Enjoy.

1. Paris is Burning (1990, dir. Jennie Livingston)

If you're queer (or straight) and don't love this movie, I can't help you. Paris is Burning is the epic documentary that introduced '80s New York's queer ballroom scene to the mainstream. Populated largely by queer and trans performers of color, the film stunned audiences in 1991, scoring the Grand Jury Prize at Sundance, among dozens of other smart people awards. It has since been added to the United States Film Registry for being "culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant" i.e. "good."

2. Tangerine (2015, dir. Sean Baker)

Directed by Sean Baker of The Florida Project (2018's most offensive Oscar snub), Tangerine explores the average day in the lives of two trans sex workers in Los Angeles. It's as painful as it is loving and — I'm not just saying this to be nice — hilarious. You laugh. Tangerine was filmed on an iPhone, but it didn't make me throw up, and the narrative is so earnestly expressed the entire picture feels like documentary.

3. Pariah (2011, dir. Dee Rees)

This movie is so wonderful, I'm surprised to see it on Netflix, my go-to spot for the worst on TV. Adepero Oduye stars as Alike, a teenager growing up gay in Fort Greene, Brooklyn. The film has everything you could want out of a coming-of-age narrative: an attractive teacher, a rejecting crush, emo teen poetry. It won the Excellence in Cinematography award at Sundance but no actual Oscars, because Oscar voters are lame.

4. How to Win at Checkers (Every Time) (dir. 2015, Josh Kim)

How to Win at Checkers pulls from Thai-American author Rattawut Lapcharoensap’s famous 2004 collection Sightseeing. Set in Bangkok, it tells the story of Oat (Ingkarat Damrongsakkul) an orphan living with his aunt on the outskirts of the capital and his relationship with his older gay brother, who's at risk of being conscripted into the military. Like so many other films in this genre, it's also a coming-of-age story, full of all the tenderness you could ask for. 

5. Blue is the Warmest Color (2013, dir. Abdellatif Kechiche)

Outside of the controversial scissoring scenes, Blue is the Warmest Color is the most true-to-life lesbian coming-of-age drama I've seen, uh, ever. It's so realistic I had to walk out of the theater three times when I watched it just so I didn't get hysterical and slobber to my exes on the phone. Be forewarned: it's French and super long, plucking at every feeling you've ever had until you're fully vacuumed of emotion.

6. The Death and Life of Marsha P. Johnson (2017, dir. David France)

If all you ever watched was Roland Emmerich's Stonewall, you'd think that the riots were started by a bunch of middle class white gay men living in the Village. Wrong! Transgender activist and woman of color Marsha P. Johnson was a principal in the riots and subsequent liberation movements. She died in 1992, and France's film explores her brief life as well as her tragic unsolved death. Required wrenching viewing. 

7. Queer Eye for the Straight Guy: Season 2 (premieres June 15th) 

June 15 for Season 2 y’all @QueerEye #queereye pic.twitter.com/fhT8YIyEwC

— Jonathan Van Ness (@jvn) May 24, 2018

A new season of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy will be available for binge-watching right at the height of Pride season. Apparently, one of the episodes includes Pete Davidson, who we all love because (1) he posted a photo of himself in a Gryffindor t-shirt next to his new celebrity boo and (2) he agreed to do this corny-ass show.

Bonus: This series is a great excuse to sit in your apartment watching TV and still technically be celebrating Pride.

8. Princess Cyd

Most good LGBTQ movies are coming-of-age movies, because that's when most people are first asked to reckon with their sexualities (and we're at our most emo). The competition in this subgenre is stiff, which is why Princess Cyd comes across so beautifully: it had to werk to be this tender.

The film stars Jessie Pinnick, who is forced to live with her aunt Miranda (Rebecca Spence) for a week in the summer for a relief for some drama with her father. Vulture called it an "eloquent, open-hearted coming-of-age story" so that should be enough to make you cry. 

9. Carol (2015, dir. Todd Haynes)

Who better to star in the 1950's Douglas Strickland-inspired melodrama than Cate Blanchett? (I know, I know, someone who openly identifies as queer — whatever). Carol is a textbook lesbian romance, featuring Rooney Mara as her working-class lover. I'm not sure what's more erotic than a luxury New York department store lesbian romance, but if there's anyone who can direct it, it's Todd Haynes.

10. God's Own Country (2017, dir. Francis Lee)

A 2017 British drama about a heavy-drinking, promiscuous gay Yorkshire farmer who meets a Romanian migrant and falls in lub. Nothing compliments a Wuthering Heights backdrop more than a man who struggles to emote. And is there anything better than a dysphoric countryside queer romance? Not that I'm aware of.

11. Milk (2008, dir. Dustin Lance Black)

I apologize for putting anything on this list that features Sean Penn, but when a movie is this important, you have to. Widely considered to be one of the best biopics of the past twenty years (admittedly, not a category rife with competition), Milk tells the story of Harvey Milk, the City of San Francisco's first openly gay mayor and the first openly gay official in the country. You're going to weep, but the movie earned those tears. 

12. The Fosters (2013-present, dir. Peter Paige)

The Fosters address every possible "Intro to Gender Studies" issue I could imagine in 2018, and you know what? We need it. It's a television family drama featuring trans teens, queer relationships, foster care families, and an interracial lesbian couple, one of whom is a cop (!) the other of whom is a teacher. The show ended this year and I'm not sure what I'm going to do with my life, except watch it over and over again.