#casually queer here to me means that the character's queerness is not their sole or most important trait or the focus of their plotline

[dearthshine]

.

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Fast Food - The False Oracles

I knelt before the Oracles, eyes downcast. Six of them, there were, dressed in clothes too casual for their nature. Shrinking beneath their gaze, I felt rather like a child before my elders. 

“One has come to seek counsel, great Oracles,” I whispered with reverence. “I have travelled far and wide. I have met the heroes of legend, watched them make history, and fought alongside them too. I have caused the death of my people, and the rise of another, and I live to tell the tale.”

One of them leaned forward. She was serpentine, with skin dry enough to be scaly, eyes red as rubies and long hair to match. “And what is it you seek, little trickster? Do you wish to change the past? To turn back time and make a different choice? To create a world in which you never had to make a choice in the first place?” The sharp edge of her smile told me there was a right answer, and a wrong one.

“None of them,” I replied, meeting her gaze. I had locked forearms with the first Spirit-Empress, bowed to the great Lich-Queen, danced with the God of Chaos himself. I could handle a crew of omniscient priestesses. “I did the right thing. Even if you gave me the option, I wouldn't have made any other choice.”

“Then why are you here?” It was a different Oracle this time, one hardly more than a girl-child, yet with a voice as deep and luscious as sin. “You have yet to answer our first question.”

I winced. “I-” What did I want? Why was I here? I had just needed to come back to Iraios, back to the place where I had met my first love, lost my first loss. “I must know: Could I have chosen better? Could I have done anything differently? Could I have saved them all?” 

I didn't know what I wanted to hear. It would have broken my heart either way, to know that my family and friends were doomed all along, or to know that I had failed to save their lives.

“And the sun will rise and the mountains will fall and all things will come to an end,” the sole male Oracle said. He studied me with steely eyes, devoid of soul. “What does it matter if they died now, or in a thousand years?” He paused, and I felt the room shift, as though something beyond my grasp had tilted reality. “I cannot stand you pathetic little woe-is-me trauma magnets. ‘Oh, my backstory is so sad! Oh, all my family died in a fire and that's why I'm evil!’ Oh, why don't I smack you right in your sad-little-meow-meow mouth, hmm?”

A smattering of laughter went up at that, the Oracle's clearly delighting in his condemnation of me. It stung, like a slap to the face, hurt and shock and shame. Then it burned like rage. 

“You can stuff your mouth up your ass, you little mud-suckler,” I snapped, not caring if I was picking a fight I couldn't win. “Those are real people you're talking about here, not some pawns in a game. They were my family, my tribe, my entire gods-accursed species! Everyone I shared a single drop of blood with is gone! And you dare to make light of it?”

“Don't you see? That's the point. Those were people with lives, with stories of their own, tossed aside like unwanted toys! She's playing with them, just as She toys with you, for Her cruelty knows no bounds.” It was the scarred one that spoke this time, her voice filled with bitter rage. “I weep for your loss, truly. We all do. Only a monster such as our Writer would dare sacrifice an entire people for character development.”

“I don't understand. You mean… Someone made this happen? This wasn't my fault?” The thought alone lifted a weight of guilt off my chest.

“Hah! It absolutely was your fault, you sad little queer representation,” the snake Oracle told me. “We merely mean that it was written from the very beginning. You would, will, and have always sacrificed your people to save humanity. That's the meta-tragedy of it. And for the record, Liam and I don't weep for you. We laugh, because this whole tale is a farcical comedy.”

“Me too,” the youthful Oracle added. “I mean: You're named after a Macdonald's breakfast. How much funnier can you get? Peak comedic relief.” She grinned. “Oh, but I do feel rather sorry for you.”

I felt myself twitch. Everyone had warned me that the Oracles spoke in tongues, but this? They might as well have been talking to someone else, with the way they went on. “What the hell is a Mac Donald? And was there someone pulling the strings, or was there not? Answer me!”

They ignored me. “You should pity it,” the scarred one told the others. “That accursed Writer thinks She can toy with us like this? Make us into her little dolls to break and bruise?” She spat on the floor. “Well, someday, we'll prove her wrong.”

“Don't be ridiculous, Gloria,” one of the remaining two said. She could have blended into any crowd, save for her solemnity, which could belong nowhere except in the highest of holy places. (Which, despite all evidence to the contrary, this was.) “We can't stop her any more than a character can reach through the pages and pull the quill that writes them away. All we mean, all we have are, all we have done is controlled by her.” What crossed her face was a river so deep I could have drowned all my troubles in it. 

“I am sorry, Hash. You are a Watcher, true and just. You have, will, and must witness many things, most of which will bleed your soul. And you have not, will not, must not allow it to kill the kindness in your heart.” She got up from her seat and stepped forward, pressing her hands against mine. “A long time ago, or perhaps no time at all, your progenitors sought my counsel. I warned them that you, specifically, would be the death of all their people.” she paused, as though to let that sink in.

“But- The records said they didn't know which of us it was,” I protested. “The records just said one of their children!”

“That's the bit you're focusing on?!” Gloria shoved her companion aside. “What part of deliberately engineered tragedy by a callous bitch did you not get?” Her face was right up against mine, cleft lip trembling with rage.

“A tragedy is still a tragedy if it was deliberately set up. It is still grief-worthy if it were unpreventable. And even if the audience does not weep, I will,” the young one added. “Out of respect for a good tale, if nothing else.”

“That I can drink to,” snake-Oracle agreed. “But what about you, dear taglist, hmm?” She cleared her throat.

“Pardon me for the bad language you're about to experience, but here's a shout-out to: @coffeeangelinabox, @dorky-pals, @calliecwrites, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @shukei-jiwa

@thewingedbaron, @pluppsauthor, @cowboybrunch, @wylloblr, @possiblyeldritch

@tragedycoded, @finickyfelix, @urnumber1star, @ratedn, @ramwritblr

@vampirelover890, @possiblylisle, @illarian-rambling, @the-ellia-west

@evilgabe29, @glitched-dawn, @rivenantiqnerd, @dragonhoardesfandoms, @xenascribbles

@drchenquill, @everythingismadeofchaos, @owldwagitoutofyou, @dimitrakies, @beloveddawn-blog

@riveriafalll, @the-golden-comet, @rascaronii, @trippingpossum, @real-fragments

@unrepentantcheeseaddict, @the-inkwell-variable, @flock-from-the-void .” She finished her spiel with a wink at nobody in particular. 

They clapped with delight. “Oh, what creativity! How adorable. To turn such a solemn moment into a breaking of the fourth wall,” the steel Oracle commented. “But using Olive as your mouthpiece? Hardly appropriate. In the future, my hateful Writer, choose me for your meta-messages. After all, aren't I the odd one out?”

Oh, that was it. “This is ridiculous,” I told them, before they could continue their insane little game, or whatever it was. “You all are crazier than a clan of spirits in a crockpot. This isn't going to help me.” None of them stopped me as I got up.

I was halfway to the door when the final Oracle noticed me. Throughout our exchange, her eyes had been closed, her expression unchanging. She might as well have been a statue, carved of ivory and obsidian by the finest of stone-mages. Yet, as I passed her, she opened her eyes and revealed the vitality that lay beneath them. 

In the days before and after, I have encountered the Void That Swallows All, the God-huntress Who Brought the New World, and even Kurall, our Creator, herself. Even after all that, nothing, and I mean nothing, could ever compare to the power I felt at that moment.

The depths of her eyes superseded any Void. The graze of her fingers sparked a fire hotter than a thousand gods' immolations. The curve of her body could have birthed a thousand worlds. She was beautiful like my worst nightmare, and I fell to my knees before the True Oracle.

“WARBRINGER. WANDERER. WATCHER. YOU ARE MANY THINGS, CHILD, BUT A HERO FIRST AND FOREMOST AMONG THEM. I WILL NOT DISGRACE YOU BY CALLING YOU A FALSE NAME. NOR WILL I PRESUME AND CALL YOU BY YOUR TRUE ONE.” Her gaze burned my skin where it fell, and I fought the urge to shift into something small, to dodge the observation of something that could crush me so easily.

She seemed to understand, for she stroked my shoulder. “YOU WISH TO KNOW IF YOU COULD HAVE SAVED THEM?” 

I nodded.

“NO. IT WAS FORETOLD FROM THE BEGINNING. I FORETOLD IT MYSELF. IT HURTS YOU TO KNOW THAT.” She said it as a fact, not a question. 

“BUT YOU WILL FACE WORSE HURTS. YOU WILL KILL THE ONE YOU LOVE. YOU WILL SACRIFICE HIM FOR OTHER PEOPLES, LIKE YOU DID YOUR FAMILY. AND THIS TIME, YOU WILL KNOW THAT YOU CHOSE THE SACRIFICE. YOU WILL HAVE MADE THE ACTIVE DESCISION. YOU WILL KNOW THIS, AND YOU WILL REALISE THAT YOU WOULD DO IT ALL OVER AGAIN IN A HEARTBEAT.” 

“That doesn't make things better,” I replied. “It's not fair. Why do I have to do this? Why does it have to be me?” My complaints sounded hollow, like a rat's chittering, beneath the baritone of her voice. “I just wanted to get by, have fun, live a little. I didn't ask for any of this.”

Her sigh held no judgement, no compassion, nothing except an endless exhaustion. “IT IS INDEED NOT FAIR.” She did not seem willing to say more.

“You think we chose this?” One of the lesser Oracles had spoken up, the man, and his voice did hold judgement. “You think we wanted to be cursed with omnipotence, to be forced to see that stupid fourth wall and the assholes that lie beyond? To know all that, and be able to change none of it? Ramaeria died to try to save her husband, and what did it change? Nothing! She, we, knew everything, and yet we're helpless! It sucks, you stupid little fried potato, and don't you try to compare your suffering to ours,” he snarled.

“SILENCE. THE CHILD'S WEEPING IS NOT CAUSELESS. WE WILL AID YOU, LITTLE ONE, IF YOU WISH TO RECEIVE THE ORACLE'S BLESSING.” 

I turned back towards the True Oracle, and nodded unsteadily. At the corner of my gibbering mind, I thought she looked an awful lot like my first lover, like Akati come back to life. 

She must have known, for she stood up and enfolded me in her arms, like I were a baby bird and the sleeves of her robe a mother's wings. “SO IT IS, YOU WHO CALL YOURSELF HASH BROWN. YOUR SHIFTING WILL BE SWIFT, YOUR TONGUE WEAVED OF THE PUREST SILVER, YOUR JUDGEMENT ABLE TO BALANCE A HEART AND A FEATHER. SO IT IS SAID BY THE ORACLES.” 

Grudgingly, one by one, the other Oracles piped up. “So it is said by the Oracles,” they chimed.

“Thank you,” I replied, at a loss for other words.

“THERE IS ONE LAST THING I MUST DO TO SEAL THIS DEAL.” As she said it, she bent down, a smile finally passing over her lips. 

The True Oracle pressed her lips to mine, and delivered me the grandest kiss of my life.

(hahah i normally put my taglist here but Olive had other plans. Please tell me what you think of this, I really went outta my comfort zone with it. Also, Fast Food is a chronologically unordered series, and you can find the rest on my pinned post!)

[amphibious-thing]

Do you have any advice for historical fiction authors who want to try harder to use historical queer language without confusing the average reader? It's something that has been a challenge for me and I've been finding your posts helpful, but I was wondering if you had specific tips on how an author could write better queer histfic for the modern reader.

It can be difficult because it is a balance. You probably don't want to just dump a whole heap of molly slang on your reader all at once. But you also don't want your characters to feel disconnected from the real history of the period.

In regards to molly slang you do have to remember that it was somewhat unique to the subculture. Only people involved in the subculture would be familiar with a lot of the slang. So if you wanted to include a character that uses molly slang you could aways have a character who is not part of the subculture, or new to it, who would serve as and stand in for the audience. This way the explanation of slang words can be weaved into the story in a more organic way.

Of course 18th century queer language is much more than just molly slang. It's good to know what the words mean but also what kind of people would be using them and in what context. For example legal writings will talk about sodomy and sodomites while a casual conversation might be more likely to talk about mollies.

While you don't want to overwhelm the reader you also don't want to underestimate them. If you pepper in historical terminology most readers will be able to pick up on the meaning form context. I think the Montague Sibling series actually does a pretty good job of this and it's a YA historical fantasy adventure novel. If Mackenzi Lee can trust her teenage target demo to pick up what a molly is from context then you can certainly trust an adult audience to.

It's also important to remember that it doesn't have to be perfect. Historical fiction is first and foremost fiction. The most important thing in my opinion is to create the feeling of a full fleshed out world. And for queer historical fiction that should be a world that includes queer people and thus have at least some queer language. You don't have to fill a novel with molly slang to do this, just give a bit here and there where it makes sense in context. The best advice I can give is to do the research and understand the history. If you understand it you will be better equipped to figure out when it makes sense to use historical language and when it makes sense not to. If you understand the rules you will better understand when to break them.

I think this is one of the reasons I like the Montague Sibling series so much. Mackenzi Lee has studied history and while her books are historical fantasy that strong base of historical knowledge really helps bring the world of the books to life. Also I just like that she actually used the word mollies in her YA book!

[Spoilers for the Montague Sibling series ahead]

Though it's not perfectly historically accurate the following scene form The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue feels very grounded in the period. The conversation is between the protagonist Monty and his little sister Felicity. Felicity largely represents the perspective of the popular rhetoric of the day.

"Honestly, Monty, I've never quite understood who's really got a hold on you." "Do you want to know if I'm a bugger?" She winces at the crass word, but then says, "It seems a fair question, considering I've seen your hands all over Richard Peele and Theodosia Fitzroy." "Oh, dear Theodosia, my girl." I collapse backward into the sofa cushions. "I remain inconsolable over losing her." I do not want to talk about this. Especially with my little sister. I came down here for the sole purpose of getting drunk enough to sleep and avoid venturing anywhere near this subject, but Felicity goes on staring at me like she's waiting for an answer. I take an uncivilized swipe at my mouth with my sleeve, which would have earned me a cuff from Father had we been at home. "Why does it matter who I run around with?" "Well, one is illegal. And a sin. And the other is also a sin, if you aren't married to her." "Are you going to give me the fornication without the intention of procreation is of the devil and a crime lecture? I believe could recite it from memory by now." "Monty—" "Perhaps I am trying to procreate with all these lads and I'm just very misinformed about the whole process. If only Eton hadn't thrown me out." "You're avoiding the question." "What was the question?" "Are you—" "Oh yes, am I a sodomite. Well, I've been with lads, so ... yes." She purses her lips, and I wish I hadn't been so forthright. "If you'd stop, Father might not be so rough on you, you know." "Oh my, thank you for that earth-shattering wisdom. Can't believe I didn't think of that myself." "I'm simply suggesting—" "Don't bother." "—he might ease up." "Well, I haven't much choice." "Really?" She crosses her arms. "You haven't a choice in who you bed?" "No, I mean I haven't much choice in who it is I want to bed." "Of course you do. Sodomy's a vice—same as drinking or gambling." "Not really. I mean, yes, I enjoy it. And I have certainly abstained form abstinence. But I'm also rather attracted to all the men I kiss. And the ladies as well." She laughs, like I've made a joke. I don't. "Sodomy has nothing to do with attraction. It's an act. A sin." "Not for me." "But humans are made to be attracted to the opposite sex. Not the same one. That's now nature operates." "Does that make me unnatural?" When she doesn't reply, I say, "Have you ever fancied anyone?" "No. But I believe I understand the basic principles of it." "I don't think you really can until it's happened to you."

The conversation then goes into Monty feelings for Percy which leads to this exchange:

"What are your expectations, exactly? If Percy did feel the same way about you, what would happen? You can't be together. Not like that—you could be killed for it if you were found out. They've been sentencing mollies by the score since the Clap Raid." "Doesn't matter, does it? Percy's good and natural and probably only fancies women and I am ... not."

While its perhaps a bit of an exaggeration to say that they've "been sentencing mollies by the score since the Clap Raid". It works the word mollies, a word most readers probably aren't familiar with, into the story in such a way that the context makes the meaning pretty clear. While Clap Raid might go over some readers heads they will still get the gist of the meaning behind the conversation and perhaps even inspired some readers to look it up and learn some real history.

This scene also takes advantage of words a modern reader would know like sin, vice and natural. They're talking about queerness in a more-or-less historically accurate way without using too many unfamiliar terms.

The Gentleman's Guide to Getting Lucy then gives us this fantastic scene that uses an 18th century euphemism:

He licks his lips, then nods. I reach for the buttons on his trousers, but he cries, "Wait! And I freeze, panicked I've done something else to muck this up, but then he says, "Just ... slowly, yes? Maybe not ... a full game of backgammon just yet." And then every inch of him goes red. "Percy Newton." I sit up over top of him and cross my arms. When he looks back at me with his eyes wide and innocent, I parrot, "A full game of backgammon? What erotic leaflet did you pick up that filthy vocabulary from?" "None!" he protests, but his mouth twitches. "Some." "Some?" Impossibly, he goes redder. "Some erotic leaflets." "May I have their titles? For purely academic purposes, I assure you."

Again the context allows for the readers to gather what is being talked about even if they've never heard the euphemism before.

And in The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy they even go to a molly house!

It is our only topic of conversation as the three of us walk to the pub in Shadwell called the Minced Nancy, which from the name alone brands itself a place where mollies like my brother and his beau can be together openly.

Tho I have to point out that while minced is 18th century language the earliest use of Nancy in this sense isn't until the 19th century.

[serenamvstdie]

the outing of dr jekyll

I do not believe the strange case of dr jekyll & mr hyde to be a mystery book or, actually, i don’t believe the mystery itself to be the relevant part of the book: there are plenty of themes one could analyse when talking about this book, that are much more interesting than the mystery itself. One of the main topics of the book can be summarised in the following question: how far can we take scientific progress and at what point along the way do we leave morality behind? We could therefore talk about Jekyll’s character, about how he was a clever man, profoundly aware of the psychology of the human being, but not in the same way every person does: he was not a human being experiencing humanity in maybe a slightly more aware manner, he was a scientist who had a subject of study he gradually became obsessed with.

This is a valid interpretation, but not the only one. The one i prefer is actually opposite to this, it sees jekyll as extremely human, fragile and maybe even irrational: i am talking about the queer interpretation of the book. I’d like to start by pointing out how strictly man-centred the whole work is: we are in the Victorian age, meaning that women never really had that much space in literature, but they were usually at least mentioned as love interests. Here, instead, they are barely even servants. There might be a total of three women mentioned in the whole book, and none of them even has a name. The only one that has some kind of role is a maid who has the sole purpose of witnessing the murder Hyde commits, something that I actually believe to be relevant to prove my point. When describing what happened she says that the victim, sir danvers carew, approached Hyde with a “very pretty manner of politeness”, he seemed to be asking for directions without actually caring about them, as if it was only an excuse. What seems to have happened is that an older man approached a younger one to get something from him, but the latter rejected him and, being mr hyde, beat him to death. On the other hand, though, the encounter might not have been that casual, since utterson will later reveal to the reader that he had introduced carew to jekyll a long time ago. Might it have been that Jekyll had pursued a romantic interest he had in carew through hyde, only for it to terribly degenerate?

The point I am trying to make is that, maybe, what jekyll wanted to bottle up in hyde was not just anger, but mostly fear, fear of his desires and sexual preferences. Hyde is indeed described as “ashamed of his urges” and “filled with nothing but hatred and fear”.

Apart from this encounter, that can still totally be up to interpretation, something that, in my opinion, hints at jekyll’s homosexuality are two sentences a friend of utterson’s said in the very first chapter, when talking about hyde: “blackmail, i suppose; an honest man paying through the nose for some of the capers of his youth, Black Mail House is what i call the place with the door, in consequence”, and “the more it looks like queer street, the less i ask”. In both quotes, the historical context certain words are said in is the key to their understanding, but let's unpack them separately.

The first quote is said while wondering what can connect such a respectable man with such a despicable one. Our 21st century brain would make us think that hyde could simply have some non-specified dirt on jekyll and is using it against him, but let me take you to the late 19th century, to 1885 to be specific, just some months before the book was written, when the Labouchere Amendment was passed, also known as the Blackmailer’s charter, which “made all homosexual acts of ‘gross indecency' illegal”. Mentioning blackmailing at that time was immediately connected to this law, as it was very easy to accuse a man of this crime, and even without getting him actually prosecuted or condemned to hard labour, you could still easily destroy that worshipped reputation the victorians were absolutely terrified of ruining. The fact that blackmailing is the first thing they think about, might actually say a lot about Jekyll, his friends might have already been suspicious, something that I think is also hinted at in some dialogues between jekyll and utterson in which they carefully avoid giving an actual name to what is left as a phantom menace that utterson believes to be the reason behind his friend’s weird attachment to that man.

(https://www.parliament.uk/about/living-heritage/transformingsociety/private-lives/relationships/collections1/sexual-offences-act-1967/1885-labouchere-amendment/ )

Moving on to the second quote, the key world is queer. The term queer comes from the german term twerh, “oblique”. It was borrowed from Scottish first and from English then, with the meaning of "strange, peculiar, odd, eccentric". In the late 19th and especially 20th century it started to be used as a derogatory term to refer to gay men, while, talking about contexts, nowadays it lost its negative connotation, and simply indicates anyone who does not identify as heterosexual and/or cisgender. To further analyse this quote, I found an “etymonline” page to be very useful, since it specifically talks about a “Queer Street” as “the imaginary place where persons in difficulties and shady characters lived”. It had a general meaning of off the tracks, contrary to what one could expect and desire, far away from a respectable life.

( https://www.etymonline.com/word/queer )

The term queer appears multiple other times, one of jekyll’s servants says that “there was something queer about that gentleman”, and in the original manuscript he even said that the mirror in jekyll’s bedroom “has seen some queer doings”. Why would Stevenson change “queer doings” to “strange things”, if by queer he only meant “odd”? I personally do not believe that he intended the two words as synonymous, also considering that the first draft also talked about jekyll as a “slave of certain appetites” already “from an early age”.

In my personal opinion, what the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde silently talks about, is the shame and desperation that came (and still comes) with queerness, the inability of recognizing it as an element of your identity, and therefore trying it all to get rid of it, the illusion of being able to just rip it out of yourself, in order to live a normal and acceptable life. It is about human beings being irrevocably delusional while thinking that having to live a double life can smoothly fade into splitting the rotten side of your being from yourself and leaving it to its devilish tendencies, and the disenchantment of doing so only to find out you are left with emptiness, that that despair did not come from your corrupted nature, but from your attempt of corrupting it. To use jekyll’s words, “If each, I told myself, could be housed in separable identities, life would be relieved of all that was unbearable”. But how can we expect to bear anything at all, where do we expect to find the strength we need in ordered to do so, if we have already shattered and weakened our soul by ripping out what we do not like about it?

Jekyll’s pain and dissatisfaction is what leads him to create Hyde in the first place, but this decision ends up creating him even more troubles and suffering. He even gets sick during the story, apparently due to the potion he takes to switch from one persona to the other, but you can kind of guess that there is more to it, that it all starts from a lack of psychological well being, from the fact that jekyll has yes, certainly corrupted the human nature and altered untouchable laws, but above all, he has betrayed himself, he attempted to repress his nature, to reshape his identity. He eventually understood that he could not live his life as a half, and decided that this meant that he could not live that life at all, giving up everything in order to suffocate the violence that exploded from his other rejected and mistreated half. In my opinion, the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde was a heartbreaking story of pain and fault, despair and sin, fear and disguise. It is the story of a man who, in his words, is “the chief of sinners” and therefore “the chief of sufferers also”.

[chirpsythismorning]

My favorite combination of endgame byler proof dates back to the promotion for season two (bc of course it does)!

About a week before s2 premiered, David Harbour did an interview, and deadass the only thing that makes any sense in regards to what he could possibly be referring to here, is endgame Byler:

"We’re talking about ending Stranger Things at either season four or season five. I know there is an end to the story. It’s a very beautiful end. We’ve already been laying out the pipework. There are easter eggs in season one that you won’t get until season four. You’ll look back and say ‘we’ve been seeing this story the whole time, we just haven’t realized it’. To me, that’s wonderful.”

Now, one could try to argue that David was referring to Will’s sexuality/feelings for Mike here, and I would agree, at least partly, because David’s wording sounds an awful lot like what Noah said recently in his interview with Variety:

"I mean, it’s pretty clear this season that Will has feelings for Mike. They’ve been intentionally pulling that out over the past few seasons. Even in Season 1, they hinted at that and slowly, slowly grew that storyline. I think for Season 4, it was just me playing this character who loves his best friend but struggles with knowing if he’ll be accepted or not, and feeling like a mistake and like he doesn’t belong. Will has always felt like that."

Where it gets complicated though, is that if David was referring to solely Will sexuality/unrequited feelings in this interview, then it doesn’t really make sense for him to frame it as ‘wonderful’.

But, it is important to note that David was talking about the ending, not the beginning of the end, which is what s4 ended up being. His assumption back then, was based on his knowledge of the ending, and how long he hoped the show would go for them to close off that story.

S4 obviously wasn’t a 'beautiful', nor 'wonderful' conclusion to Will’s story arc involving his sexuality/feelings for Mike being built up since s1. So, even if that’s all David was referring to, we are still yet to see the payoff.

This is where the damning proof combo comes in...

Most of you probably know, but as promotion for s2, Spotify collaborated with Netflix for official playlists dedicated to each of the ST characters. It was said that these playlists were specialized and unique to each characters traits.

But especially when it comes to the first song on each of these playlists, almost all of them are instantly recognizable as to why we can assume they chose that song, for that specific character, to start off their playlist. And arguably, even for the most casual of viewers.

For El it’s, Papa Don’t Broach. Pretty self explanatory.

For Will, it’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Again, self explanatory.

For Mike, it's Smalltown Boy...

To those who don't know, Smalltown Boy (1984) is an unequivocal gay anthem about a young, gay man in the 80's who experiences homophobia and alienation in his small home-town, only to leave (run away) by the end, in order to be happy.

The music video leans even more blatantly into this narrative. Here it is beside this shot of Mike in 4x01 (one of the very few POV shots we got from him in s4, might I add), and it fits quite well with the Smalltown Boy agenda...

To be clear, this isn't just some song the queer community loved and so it turned into a gay anthem overtime. Because, yeah, there are definitely some songs that lyrically just feel like they could be queer (despite not intentionally being), and so the gays sort of claim it and it gains even more meaning and importance over time. However, that is not the case here. This song is undoubtedly one of the most intentionally gay songs of the 80's. And a heartbreaking SYNTH one at that!!!

If the hints for Will were intentional back then (confirmed), then it’s highly likely Smalltown Boy being the first song on Mike’s official playlist, may just be one of the many Easter eggs pointing to the fact that Mike has also been gay (and in love with Will??) this whole time.

Also worth mentioning that when Finn was recently asked about M*leven's relationship in season 5 (the ending), he had this to say;

"I don’t know, I’m really interested… I don’t know, I’m interested kind of like for the end of the show kinda in general (…) Who’s gonna stay in Hawkins, who’s gonna leave. Who’s gonna try to find a life outside. Is there even gonna be a Hawkins? I don’t know. But yeah. I’d be interested to see if Mike stays in Hawkins, or tries to find a life outside of his town. And also, you know it’s hard to tell, like obviously with Eleven and his relationship, but I hope they find, you know, happiness."

When they make-up after fighting in 4x04, Mike tells Will that Hawkins isn't the same without him. After literally listing off all of their friends, basically separating them from Will, "They're great... but-" sort of confirms to us that no matter what Hawkins has to offer, without Will, it's not the same to Mike. Which means if Will isn't going to stay in Hawkins at the end (he won't), Mike probably wont either.

TBH, Will and Mike both having feelings for each other since the beginning, and ending up together, fits a whole lot better with: ‘we’ve been seeing this story the whole time, we just haven’t realized it. And I think that’s wonderful’, than an unrequited love story does....

And the fact that all of these easter eggs, for both Mike and Will, started picking up more prominently after season 2, makes the Duffers whole "what is s2?" act right now even more funny...

[hael987]

I’m so very tired of people saying nonsense about KinnPorsche the series and trying to bring it down.

I cannot stress enough how much the show means to me. Firstly because I’m enjoying it but more importantly because of what it’s showing, what it’s bringing into the world.

As Mile and Apo have continually been saying the series is showing love is love, we’re no different than the cishets. It’s telling queer people that they’re deserving of such detailed stories too. We also deserve stories that delve deeper than the superficial.

Let us have our complex characters. The morally grey or even morally black. The unclear, contrasting motives. Let us see healthy and unhealthy relationships. Fluff and action and torture. Let us have it all for once.

When we’re finally getting the variety we deserve, stop trying to restrict us back into boxes. It’s light, but it’s not superficial. It’s dark but it’s not gritty, there’s always some beauty to be found whether it be in the storyline itself or the shots.

Fair enough if it’s not to your personal taste/you personally don’t like it but to say such media shouldn’t be out there is wrong.

We get a story full of various kinds of love. Discovery and growth that’s flawed and rocky, an uneven and complicated path. A show that finally explores multitudes. A show through which I can finally feel connections to my own queer experiences but it’s subtle enough it’s not overwhelming and the story is varied enough with action, mafia plots and fluff that it’s enjoyable for the wider audience too.

We’re given NC scenes that feel beautiful, emotional, real and not fetishised. The joy and elation we get to see from them existing together. We’re given NC scenes that are dubious and darker. It doesn’t focus on just one aspect, we get it all. Layered and detailed for once.

They struggle to be together but it’s not because they’re queer, it’s because their lives are complicated and messy. It’s the casual normalising of it, shifting the focus to the people rather than focusing it on the sexuality.

Their words of support interspersed throughout the entire show. Telling us we’re supposed to be here. We’re seen. The effort Mile underwent to get this story out there, the improvements all the actors and BOC made to make the story better, less homophobic. How they changed part of Porsche’s storyline from internalised homophobia and that consequential struggle into something far more beautiful and relevant: an exploration of his quintessential self and his roles in life, his journey of self worth and happiness. How valid that makes one feel to watch such a series.

Chay setting out on his youthful love. Porsche only having his first dating experience in his adulthood. Tankhun feeling unsafe when he leaves his sphere, his use of fashion as a shield. Kinn’s struggle of duty vs heart. Pete and Vegas beginning to remove their masks. These stories, it’s all reminiscent of the very real queer experience. The differing journeys. The sex scenes, the fluff, the darker side. These multitudes symbolise the variety and varying paths of what the queer experience can entail.

The nod, the acknowledgement that there are so many differing queer experiences and stories to be told without reducing the focus to be solely on the sexuality. That queer people are people — as flawed, as varied, as complex as everyone else. Queer people don’t just have to exist one way or fit your ideals. Sometimes it’s uncomfortable to see, it’s the reality of existence.

Every single one of these points is why the show is important, necessary even.

I’m not claiming it’s the first show to do so, but I would say it’s the first show to express it so fully — it’s in every single inch of it. Stop trying to bring it down.

If you don’t like it that’s fine, it’s not for you. It’s for me. It’s for me and everyone like me that finally feels represented and loved and shown that we’re allowed to be complex. That we exist on equal ground and deserve to have equally complex media. That like our queer selves, the queer media we have shouldn’t be restricted to certain boxes.

[king-maven-calore]

Hii Ann

I read what you wrote about the end of BB and even tho i can't understand it in a personal level i know how important representation is (specially if having it is not the norm or the "common thing") and not being conscious of that, for an author like VA, is disrespecful to the very least.

However I still don't understand quite well the main reason of the problem: what boder you is that Victoria kill the only gay character? That she used their sexuality as a reason to die, not in a homophobic way but in a "people will miss this one more cause of their sexuality" way.

(Perdón mi ignorancia soy más paki q la Bresh en la actualidad)

(Vos tan Bresh 💑, y yo tan Fiesta Plop✨) The more time passes, the more I can articulate why this wounded me so much beyond "I'm a sensitive gay" lmao so I'll try to be precise.

In a way, the problem with Ridha's death has nothing and everything to do with her sexuality. It has nothing to do with the cause or the circumstances of it. You see, if we reduce her POV to its basics it's about a flat character whose sole purpose in the story was as a tool for plot progression. Her chapters were never about developing her beyond "Elder princess gathering forces to save the realm". We as readers are supposed to care about her death on the basis that she's one of the good guys and the emotional repercussions it will have for Dom, who loves her. Other than that, I don't see why anybody would find her non-existent personality compelling enough or empathize with enough to truly be devastated by her demise. So, even from a writer's standpoint, it's a "safe" death, rather than tragic.

Readers are not going to "miss it" bc of her sexuality, but bc she was barely in the story. They are mostly going to be relieved their faves were spared. This is fine of course. I'm not pointing fingers. I don't even care if someone says they are glad it was her who died.

The problem is that she was the one character where an element of queer identity made a significant appearance, in a way that was used to build a relationship with another (Lenna, the raider chief), and thus, excitement. And it was used carelessly. In an ideal world, Ridha dying after displaying this deviation from the norm wouldn't mean much. But this is not an ideal world, and it is problematic within the context of the story because while there are other bi characters (Erida, Sorasa, Sigil) and a gay character (Charlon) none of them display their attraction in ways that matter. Both Erida and Sorasa are in M/F romantic storylines, Sigil is casually mentioned having a threesome with another woman, Charlie is in a ~complicated~ relationship (or past relationship) with some guy, and it's not depicted.

Do you see the pattern I'm drawing? It's all so very diverse, but not really. Because the queer storylines are sidelined even though the plotty plot still leaves room for three M/F romances. And I would have been okay with a half-baked F/F romance too, cause my bar is super low lmao, but it was quickly aborted by death.

And here's when the context created by other media comes into play: the percentage of lgbtq+ characters dying is so high in contrast with other characters that you come to expect it. It's a joke in the community, how a character coming out or a same-sex love interest being introduced into a story must mean they are going to die soon.

How would you feel if 9 out of 10 of all the romcoms you love changed the ending so one half of the pair died? you soon would tire of it. You'd grow sick of seeing it. It's all in the numbers.

Back when I read RQ and Evangeline was revealed to be a lesbian, I was sure she would be dead by the end. It was a given. I was resigned to it like I always am. But then she survives! and not only that but other gay couples were shown and mentioned. When Maven dies it's the tragic natural conclusion of a complex negative arc for a very well-developed bisexual boy. His sexuality matters even when it's not central to the story.

When Ridha dies, the only RB POV whose queerness had any relevance at all in making a weak character somewhat more human, it leaves the number of gay couples at zero (there is the insinuation of an M/NB couple between two tertiary characters, I'll give you that). So, VA just killed 100% of a demographic. And it was my demographic🙃, so that made the death personal even though it wasn't. It made it painful, even though she was a disposable character from the get-go. That, my friend, is the problem. This whole mess fits neatly into a broader problem of straight writers carelessly disposing of queer characters way more quickly than they would of "regular" ones.

As a straight girl, you're not obligated to care about this or feel angry, but please understand where the pain comes from for those of us who get this ending 99% of the time in media.

[thinkingisadangerouspastime]

I find it really intriguing how the ATLA writers could have gone a “brotherly love” route with Zuko and Aang, but they never did. Even in LOK, the only thing that I remember Iroh saying about their relationship was that they canonically became the best of friends and that Zuko knew Aang better than anyone, even more than Katara and their children. I find the direction of their relationship a contrast to how often the bond between the male protagonist and the male antagonist that are spiritually linked in other media is reduced to “they were like brothers” and put aside for the respective heterosexual romances of the leads, even though the relationships between the leads often have homoerotic subtext and can be interpreted through a queer lens. I guess what I’m wondering is: would you classify Zuko and Aang’s relationship as brotherly? Do you support interpretations where their relationship is viewed as brotherly? And finally (I’m sorry for all of the questions): why do you think the ATLA writers - who seem to mostly be composed of cishet men - never took the “brotherly love” route and left the nature of their relationship ambiguous?

This ask has been in my inbox for a Hot Minute 💀 my apologies, my friend. And since I haven’t seen LOK, I won’t try to speak on the front. Before I continue, though, @likealittleheartbeat has an AMAZING analysis here about the interpretation of Aang and Zuko’s relationship through a queer-platonic lens that I found to be an incredible read and arguably could answer this ask on its own, lol!

I guess the general “issue” that must be addressed to answer these questions is simply how we define brotherly. That “we” can be divided into the viewers and the writers, only adding another layer of complexity. Because the reality is that we can’t jump into the creators minds and see exactly how they intended Zuko and Aang’s relationship to be interpreted. We can make deductions, e.g. the existence of Kataang and Maiko suggests Zuko and Aang were not intended to have a romantic relationship within canon (duh, lol). In fact, you could even add another division to the “we” - the writers, the viewers, and the characters themselves (i.e. interpretation through the cultural lenses that inspired the show).

All of this is to say that there is not going to be one agreed-upon definition of “brotherly,” lol! Since you seem to be asking for my personal opinions, I’ll go with my personal definition. If anyone has differing thoughts in response to these questions, please feel free to add them in a comment or rb! I think there’s a lot to explore here and my sole opinion is Not the be-all and end-all, lmao.

So, what is my personal definition of “brotherly”? I’m not going to try to make a formal definition, lol, but the gist of my interpretation is a platonic relationship akin to that of siblings. To me, there is a difference between having a “brotherly relationship” with someone versus a “friendship” (I almost used “friendly relationship” but that didn’t feel right jskdfhakdls). I think these two can overlap and/or be the same, but - for example - I have friends who I would say without hesitation that I am incredibly close with, but I also would not classify that friendship as “sisterly.” (Again, these are strictly my personal thoughts, and I encourage further discussion in comments/rbs!)

I’ll take your questions one at a time:

Would you classify Zuko and Aang’s relationship as brotherly?

Personally? Probably not. To me, there is a sense of superficiality associated with the term “brotherly” that in my eyes can be reductive to platonic relationships between men (can be, not always lol). I think with Zuko and Aang, the relationship just runs much deeper than “brotherly” can connote. For one, they are the primary narrative foils of the show! The only relationship that comes close to theirs in terms of narrative significance is Kataang (which is a very different dichotomy, btw, I’m not trying to compare them lol). We have numerous episodes dedicated to the parallels between Aang and Zuko, including but not limited to “The Storm” and “The Avatar and the Fire Lord.” I mean, this is an actual quote from the latter episode:

Do you really think friendships can last more than one lifetime?

We see variants of this line and the notion of friendship itself associated throughout that episode explicitly with Roku and Sozin, Roku and Gyatso, and of course the Gaang at the end, but implicitly we also know it’s about Aang and Zuko, too. Aang says, “Everyone, even the Fire Lord and the Fire Nation, have to be treated like they’re worth giving a chance.” One common take with this line that I’ve seen is interpreting it as foreshadowing for Aang’s decision to spare Ozai - which obviously is a fair assessment - but we cannot also ignore how much it applies to Zuko joining the Gaang. Specifically, Zuko reconciling with Aang.

We all know Aang was the first person to extend friendship to Zuko back in “The Blue Spirit” and tbh, after he saw Appa licking Zuko, you can tell Aang was nearly willing to extend a second chance to Zuko then and there lol. Aang and Zuko’s friendship, them being drawn together, is a relationship that transcends lifetimes, transcends social norms/expectations, transcends a loss greater than anyone can imagine (for Aang) and offers a new opportunity arguably far more than deserved (for Zuko). I think ascribing a qualifier of “brotherly” to their relationship therefore limits this transcendence because of how much their dynamic encompasses.

Do you support interpretations where their relationship is viewed as brotherly?

Of course! One of the reasons I love A:TLA - especially my small corner of the fandom - is how many interpretations that every relationship presents, be it a small “difference” (such as calling Zuko and Aang’s relationship “brotherly”) or a more drastic one (exploring fanon possibilities with rarepairs, let’s go #AangRarepairWeek 😎). So even if this interpretation isn’t one I’m inclined to in the literal sense (i.e. it’s the “brotherly” qualifier I feel I dislike, because I do love platonic Zukaang as much as romantic Zukaang), I absolutely encourage others to make the most of their fandom experience and product/support content that they enjoy!

Why do you think the ATLA writers - who seem to mostly be composed of cishet men - never took the “brotherly love” route and left the nature of their relationship ambiguous?

I will say that we don’t really have any way of knowing the sexualities and gender identities of every single A:TLA writer, lol. I’m not saying they were all queer in some way, of course, but I just want to establish that we don’t and can’t know unless told. If that makes sense 😂

As I mentioned earlier, I have no way of getting inside the writers’ minds to determine their intentions when they were writing Zuko and Aang’s relationship, so all you’re gonna get here are my best guesses lmao! For one, there wasn’t really a need to outright label Zuko and Aang as having a “brotherly” relationship. The existence of Kataang and Maiko again speak for themselves. Most viewers - especially casual watchers - don’t need the show to state “these two only love each other in a brotherly way” to conclude that the relationship was platonic (or rather, was not romantic), especially considering that the show was made in the mid-2000s (i.e. sad but true, most people weren’t watching A:TLA with a queer lens 😔). So I wouldn’t say they left the relationship “ambiguous” so much as there wasn’t need to qualify it further than simply being platonic.

Of course, I do think there is an ambiguity that comes with Aang and Zuko’s relationship, which I love to exploit in my Zukaang fics 😌. Was that ambiguity intentional? Again, I’m inclined to say no. But I can’t speak with certainty and - as I discussed earlier - I truly think Aang and Zuko’s relationship would be limited by being called “brotherly” when their connection runs so deeply and is intertwined so heavily with the spiritual themes of the show. Thus, it’s possible the writers were purposefully emphasizing that spirituality by not labelling them as “brotherly”! But as I said, there’s really no way to be sure.

At the end of the day, I don’t think it matters how someone chooses to label Aang and Zuko’s relationship. I mean, I’m always a little horrified when a person completely overlooks their narrative significance as foils (because I personally can’t imagine dismissing either of their importance to the other), but hey, to each their own. Brotherly, queerplatonic, romantic, and hell, anything in-between - these interpretations are anyone’s for the taking. Have fun with it! 💛

(I hope this at least kind of resembles the answer you were looking for, anon 😂)

[forestlingincorporated]

Bernard Dowd

DC made me do it. Fandom made me do it. So here it is, the character retrospective I never thought I’d ever write. 

Bernard Dowd was introduced on December 17th, 2003, in Robin #121. Tim has recently transferred to Louis E. Grieve Memorial High School, his fourth school since his introduction when he was 13; Tim is 16 now, and was recently forced to drop out of Brentwood due to his father’s bad investments loosing them their upper class status. Jack and Dana Drake are still alive. 

Bernard Dowd is the first person Tim meets when transferring to this new school. Bernard picks him out of the crowd as new, and immediate tries to determine what Tim’s clique is, only to determine, as we all know, Tim is pretty much impossible to cleanly box. 

Bernard thinks very highly of himself. He views himself as also being above cliques, and wants to give Tim the impression that he’s “runs the school.” He thinks of himself as a cool guy, and he doesn’t like to be called “Bernie.” 

His attempts to befriend Tim are rather presumptive in a way that comes off as rude. He treats Tim like a lost little lamb in need of guidance. 

So, Tim ends up casual friends with Bernard. In fact, at this point in time, Tim says he’s his only friend at school. 

Bernard has a crush on fellow classmate and lowkey daughter of a crime boss, Darla Aquista. (Yes, that Darla Aquista, of TimSteph relationship drama fame.) He is the one to introduce Tim to Darla, and Tim embarrasses him by calling his bluff over whether or not he’d actually ask her out if her jock friends were removed from the picture. This is when you start to get the feeling Bernard might be all talk and bravado. He’s not the cool, confident, popular guy he makes himself out to be. 

After Tim looses Robin, he invites Bernard over for dinner with his family. His and Tim’s relationship seems... complicated. On the one hand, Tim likes him enough to invite him over to his house, and he’s probably Tim’s closest friend during a period of time when his other relationships are distant (friends at other schools) or cut entirely (the hero community). That said, Bernard is CLEARLY depicted as... skeezy, and skeezy about people in Tim’s life, in a way Tim doesn’t appreciate. 

Months later, if the passing of seasons is to be believed, Bernard is the person to inform Tim that there’s a new Robin. Tim seems to have a larger friend group at Louis E. Grieve, he’s worked out a friendship with Darla even though she still seems to have a slight crush on him, and seems to be friends with several of the footballers, but he still has time for Bernard. 

Bernard believes wild conspiracies that Batman works for a shadow government and owns secret orphanages full of Robins that only last for about three days before they die and get buried in secret government graveyards. 

We don’t see Bernard for a while after this. Darla Aquista is shot at school, dying in Tim’s arms. Stephanie Brown’s death is faked. Tim’s father dies, and his stepmother is in such mentally bad shape she has to be checked into a special clinic in Bludhaven, so Tim transfers to John Wayne High School, his fifth school since he was 13. 

A lot of shit goes down between the school shooting and the next (and last) time we see Bernard in Robin #140. He’s meeting up with a girl named Linda, when his vehicle is destroyed by none other than Darla Aquista, back from the dead as Warlock’s Daughter, who is looking for Tim. 

After she scares the shit out of him, they go to Gotham Grille for age-appropriate drinks, and Bernard tells her that the high school closed down after the shooting and all the students’ families received settlement money. With that money, Bernard attended an unnamed private school. 

He offers to help her become a superhero, which she turns down. While he’s pretty rude to Linda over the phone, he’s depicted softer here, He seems earnest in his desire to help Darla, even if he still has an underlying bit a selfishness. I personally feel like he comes off a little less like the Annoying Try Hard he started out as, and has a bit more Booster Gold-esque charm to him. 

But, we never see him again, after he helps her track down Tim’s new address with his Fake Uncle, so he was lost to the pile of Tim’s former normal boy friends to be forgotten. 

UNTIL BATMAN: URBAN LEGENDS! 

Right now, everyone is excited because Batman: Urban Legends #4′s been released and Tim Drake has some strong Might End Up Coming Out As MLM Soon? vibes. He’s got this Discovering New Things About Himself arc in this comic that’s framed in a very Gay Coded way. Focusing on a gay male couple with the dialog box “like me” over it, Barbara talking about how he’s afraid looking too deeply at himself might “change” him, stuttering over how his old friend “looks,” and of course this pseudo date he’s goes on with Bernard. 

I cannot actually analyze the whole comic in depth, because I don’t own it; I ordered the trade, so I won’t be receiving it until December. This is what I’ve gathered from screen shots of this comic alone. I don’t think Urban Legends is technically in the main canon, but I would not be surprised if this was a test to see how audiences respond - like Joker shooting Barbara Gordon in The Killing Joke (which isn’t canon) resulting in Barbara Gordon’s very canon paralysis. 

There’s some speculation at the moment that Bernard himself might actually be evil, or working for the bad guys. I think it’s equally possible he might be targeted by the bad guys, and not necessarily evil himself. But neither scenario would particularly surprise me, it seems unlikely he would be reintroduced as solely a potential love interest for Tim, if that is indeed the route they’re going down. Consider old flames of Bruce’s that get reintroduced, they’re often connected to the plot in some way. 

I... have not exactly sugar coated that I don’t like Bernard. Honestly, I AM trying to be fair. THIS Bernard seems lovely, from the screen caps, but my most recent experience with Bernard was a recent reread of the Robin series, and I just don’t find him historically likable. Some people may disagree, but I personally think some of those some people are maybe going back after reading THIS comic and rereading him with rose-tinted glasses he hasn’t quite earned. 

So, I personally am not going to start shipping this, at least not right now, though I am putting on my clown make up getting my hopes up that Tim might come out as gay or bi. I’m personally hoping he’s gay, but that’s just me seeing a lot of myself in Tim, and projecting my own experience with compulsory heterosexuality onto him, and I think it would be interesting to explore that with an established character. I would still be happy with bi/pan Tim Drake, and I think that would probably make the most people happy - fans of Tim’s opposite-sex ships get to win, and fans of Tim’s queer ships get to win, and bi/pan people would get a big name character as representation. What would make the most people angry, is if this ends up as a queerbait during Pride Month of all things. 

I... have no hope they might make him demisexual, I don’t know if DC even knows what that word means. 

[miraculoussage]

Breaking Out

Sorry for the lack of formatting regarding this section. My laptop charger broke so I’m currently stuck with mobile, and I am not great at mobile text organization. Also sorry for the lack of a read-more. Once again, mobile :(  fixed bc i have a laptop again B)

Rating: General

Characters: Adrien Agreste/Chat Noir main character; lots of other characters making an appearance, lots of Plagg, Marinette/Ladybug, and Gabriel

Relationships: Light love-square (pre-relationship)

Other tags: Trans boy Adrien, mostly closeted trans Adrien, transphobia (no transphobic violence), mentions of a dead name but no actual use of the dead name, misgendering, mentions of Dysphoria; supportive friends, Gabriel Agreste is a soggy tissue, minor mentions of diet control, minor redesigns of LB and CN costumes, major redesigns of civilian Adrien bc closet trans. Use of the word queer as an identifier and not a slur.

Part 2

♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

The worst thing about being a popular fashion model, Adrien thought, was his image pasted all over the city. He had to see himself in the mirror enough as it was; seeing himself dressed up in the most feminine clothes his father could design, his long blond hair professionally styled into curls and braids and up-dos, and with enough makeup for three circus clowns made his skin itch. All of Paris, all of the world saw him as he was on the billboards and posters, in heavily edited magazine photos, set on backgrounds of flowers and butterflies. Everyone saw Adrien as a girl, Gabriel Agreste’s beautiful model daughter. Everyone except himself.

He had thought about coming out to his mother and father before, but while he was trying to find the nerve or the right moment, he overheard his father firing one of his models for coming out as trans. After that, his anxiety grew. He could never tell his parents, especially his father, not until he was living on his own and not relying on his modelling career and his father for survival.

Even when he went to school for the first time, he had to introduce himself as his dead name and endure the misgendering. He had considered coming out to Chloe, too, but while she didn’t seem to be transphobic, he didn’t trust her enough to keep it a secret. She thrived on gossip, sometimes even at the expense of her friends. Whether or not it was on purpose didn’t exactly matter to Adrien in this situation.

Plagg was the first person he ever came out to, not entirely on purpose. When he transformed into Chat Noir the first time, he actually cried for a few minutes. He felt different and he felt right and when he caught his reflection in a mirror he saw exactly who he wanted to be. Aside from his inhuman eyes and the strangeness of the costume, of course. His hair was short and messy and the makeup his father insisted he wear every day was entirely gone.

His costume was thick black leather, covering his whole body up to his neck where a bell sat at his collar. There was soft padding on his shoulders, elbows, and knees, barely visible under the leather. He had black combat boots with green soles that reached half way up his calf, laced with bright green laces, and lined with soft material if the same colour. His gloves, too, were black leather with soft green lining, claws on the fingers. Over the black bodysuit, he had a sleeveless hoodie; the fabric was looser and lighter than the leather, it almost seemed like cotton except it was sleek and waterproof. The pouch pocket was bright green with a single black paw print in the middle. All of the lining was the same bright green, visible in the hood and extending to the hems of the shirt. The hood itself had spaces cut out for the leather cat ears on his head, and fit loose and comfortable without falling over his eyes. Most importantly to Adrien, his chest was entirely flat without pressure.

After the first Akuma was stopped and Adrien transformed back, Plagg was suddenly gentle where he wasn’t before. “So what was that, then? What are your pronouns? Got a different name than the one I know?” After answering the questions and having another emotional moment, Plagg was back to being aloof and snarky, seemingly only concerned with cheese.

Adrien warmed up to the little cat-god fast. It felt more than amazing to be called the right thing for once, and Plagg at the least acknowledged his angry and frustrated rants about anything related to his gender that he’d never been able to share with anyone before. “As long as you keep giving me cheese,” Plagg had said, but somewhere along the way the meaning of the sentence changed to “always”, unspoken but genuine.

At school, things started out nice despite the rough start from being Chloe’s friend. The misgendering and dead name weighed down on him, though, and soon his new friends shared their concern about him. No one had any idea what it was about. It could be anything from his father to his mother to his modelling to just not getting enough sleep, but he’d hidden himself enough that no one would ever guess what it truly was about.

Nino was good about (sort of) silent comfort, offering to talk about it but relenting easily and moving to sharing music, food, memes, stories, and just a comforting presence. Alya always tried to figure out what was wrong and when she came to her own conclusions she would give him advice, though it was never the advice he needed. And Marinette...

Though Marinette was shy and got flustered easily, when her friends were in pain, she would stop at nothing to help them feel better. When he sighed about going home at the end of the day, she would invite him over to do homework, which usually ended up actually being video games. It became almost a routine by the spring, the two of them (and sometimes their friends) hanging out in the Dupain-Cheng apartment, snacking on yesterday’s left-over pastries while they played games, watched movies, talked, or rarely actually doing homework. Marinette’s parents were incredibly kind to Adrien, he was even envious that Marinette had such a supportive family. She was open about her biromantic identity, and never suffered for it at home.

As a result of their time spent together and Marinette’s own tendencies to not back down from helping her friends, she was the second person he came out to. It was a mess of tears between them, and Marinette apologized profusely for the misgendering, despite having no idea she was doing it. It made Adrien laugh, which made Marinette laugh, and then they were both laughing and crying at the same time. When Sabine came up to check on them, Adrien found he didn’t care that she was seeing him like this, and didn’t try to hide his identity from her anymore. Then, Sabine was crying with them, hugging Adrien close and giving him all the affirmations he never got from another human. (It was then that he decided he was now Adrien Dupain-Cheng, and she and Tom were his new parents.)

They all understood how important it was to keep this new information a secret, from everyone. If it got to his father or, gods forbid, the media, everything would go to hell in a hand basket. Marinette helped him fix his makeup before he left, apologizing even more about him needing to wear it. As usual, Sabine snuck some fresh pastries into his bag while he pretended not to notice when she hugged him goodbye. On the way out, Tom stopped him. The bakery was empty, just closed for the evening minutes before. “Adrien,” the news had reached him earlier via Sabine, “if you ever ever need a place to go for any reason, you’re always welcome here. No questions asked, any time day or night.” He had to hand a napkin to Adrien, tears gathering in his eyes again. As Adrien’s car pulled up to the front of the bakery, they said goodbye for the night, and Adrien was on his way back to the mansion. It wasn’t home, not anymore.

He came out to Ladybug third, but he didn’t know if it counted as third when he was Chat Noir. It was a rather casual interaction, against all expectations. The two of them were jogging across rooftops, keeping their eyes out for any sort of problem, just a regular Saturday patrol. They were talking about TV shows, sharing their theories for the next episode and the rest of the season; Ladybug theorized that one of the characters was a trans man, and Chat Noir seized the opportunity without a second thought. “Oh, like me,” he said, and Ladybug didn’t even blink. She just smiled at him, and he smiled back. Before they parted for the night, she thanked him for trusting her with his secret and promised it was safe with her. “I know, my Lady, I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you wouldn’t.” Nothing even changed between them after that, though Ladybug did seem to talk more openly about queer subjects when they came up.

He came out to other classmates and friends on a case by case basis, with Marinette there for support every time. Nathaniel, Alix, Nino, Rose and Juleka, Kagami. People he could trust entirely to keep it a secret and that he knew weren’t queerphobic from their time knowing each other. He always had some anxiety about it anyways, but with constant unspoken support from Marinette and her parents, it didn’t seem as daunting as before. Nathaniel drew pictures of him with different styles of short hair and more masculine outfits, “for when you’re able to choose your appearance”. Marinette had helped Nathaniel design the outfits, and she had plenty more in her own sketchbook designed just for Adrien. Alix and Nino casually called him “dude” and “bro”, a way to affirm him without actually outing him, since the terms were so casual and usually neutral.

As his support outside of the mansion grew, Adrien realized day after day just how terribly he was treated by his father, and Natalie and the other staff by proxy. Aside from his father’s thinly veiled queerphobia, he also controlled Adrien’s diet, his schedule, his social life, his career, his finances, and almost every aspect of his life. Before going to school, he thought most families were like that. It wasn’t until Alya complained about being saddled with babysitting again and the others lamented with her that three evenings that week was a bit excessive that Adrien realized most of his classmates actually got to decided what they did in their spare time without having to beg for permission. They got to choose what to eat for lunch, some even got to make their own food, and they didn’t have to follow a strict diet. They weren’t constantly afraid of their parents punishing them at the slightest mistake.

He spent more and more time at the Dupain-Cheng’s, at home, they even gave him his own key. More than once they’d woken up early to open the bakery, just to find him curled up on the couch in his clothes from the day before, the throw blanket wrapped tightly around him. Marinette made plenty of casual clothes and loungewear for him, until half of her closet was his. They almost always had a plate of leftovers from dinner with his name on it in the fridge. One afternoon, they surprised Adrien; the room that was formerly the office was converted into a full bedroom with his clothes moved into the closet already. The room was even decorated, soft green and light grey, paintings on the walls, a desk with a silver cat paperweight next to a lamp. Plagg seemed even more excited about it than Adrien was, which was saying a lot because Adrien was over the moon. They really were serious about the “anytime, no questions asked”.

After three years of school and crime fighting, Adrien made the biggest decision in his life. He talked to the bank and a lawyer. He had his rightful savings moved from the account under his father’s surveillance to a brand new private account. He had his friends and real family at his back. And then, he came out to his father. It went about as well as he expected; Gabriel threw a fit, accused Adrien of acting out for attention, and ultimately ended up locking Adrien in his room and forbidding him from going to school. Fortunately for Adrien, he had an escape plan in the form of a magical ring.

He was across the city in a matter of minutes, detransformed, and contacting his lawyer. His emancipation was officially in process. He texted the Dupain-Cheng family chat letting them know he told his father and it didn’t go well, but he was not in the house and he was safe. They were the only ones who knew about his plan, given they were part of it all. Though the idea of living full time with Marinette gave him butterflies, he could ignore his crush for everyone’s comfort.

Before his father or Natalie had a chance to suspend his access to his accounts, he made an Instagram post. A photo of himself, no makeup and his hair pulled back into a bun so it wasn’t so visible, wearing one of the more formal outfits Marinette made for him (a blue suit with a white undershirt and a pink bow tie). It had been taken a few days earlier, in front of a nondescript grey wall in his bedroom, unable to be linked to any location. As the caption, he wrote “Adrien Agreste, he/him, proudly trans! Stay strong, and know you are loved.” He posted it in as many transgender and fashion tags as he could, and was happy to see screenshots of it spreading almost immediately before it was taken down from his own account and his access was cut off. He texted Marinette one last time to tell her he would be unable to contact her over the phone, then turned the phone off, left it on a nearby cafe table, and disappeared down an alley. Thirty seconds later, Chat Noir was vaulting between buildings, headed nowhere in particular.

Stick around for part 2! ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

[smallblueandloud]

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 for the writing ask- I AM SO SORRY I COULDNT STOP!!! xoxo

aaaah these questions look SO GOOD thank you so much <3 <3 for this ask meme, which will be open all weekend!

1. tell us about your current project(s)  – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

i pulled open all of my WIP google docs for this and my laptop started whirring ominously, lmao. this is going to be a Little Long but i love talking about my wips so who cares!! (under the cut because EXCERPTS)

guys and dolls but gay - very, very casual rewrite of guys and dolls if sky masterson was a woman. i’m loving how chill i’m being about this one because it’s so much fun to not have to worry how i’m going to write lyrics in a not-weird way and just focus on the story. this one’s first because it’s theoretically closest to being finished.

sky, laughing: “oh? people. all the people you turn down every day. well, i imagine there’s someone out there that’ll catch your eye.”

sarah, stiffening: “...yes, there will be.”

sky: “and what might this person be like?”

sarah: “he will not be a gambler, for one.”

sky does not miss the pointed pronoun. “i’m not interested in what he won’t be, i’m interested in what he will be.” she sits down on the desk, in a pointedly masculine pose, and sets her fedora next to her - at her most Hot Queer, basically. “how will you know when he gets to you?”

my fic for the aos rarepair fic exchange - i can’t give any plot or ship details, for obvious reasons, but it’s 1.3k and i’m having fun with it!

steven roadtrip of destiny - canon divergent fic set at the end of steven universe future where steven goes on a roadtrip instead of... canon. it deals with some heavy emotions and it’s also a character study so it’s tentatively shelved until i get around to rewatching suf. but i am projecting on steven like crazy and it’s really, really cathartic. it’s taught me a lot about myself too lmao.

He’s never been anonymous before. He kind of likes it. It means he can fold his arms on the table and put his head down without Pearl worrying about his posture, or someone asking him if something’s okay.

In the last few months, he’s grown to hate people asking him how he’s doing, or if he’s okay. He always ends up lying, because he doesn’t want to worry them, and he ends up feeling worse.

Probably because it’s more of him supporting other people without supporting himself.

He should have told someone how he was feeling. He should have reached out. Sadie could’ve helped him. Lars would’ve listened. Connie would have hugged him and then found him the appropriate mental health professional.

(God, Steven wants a hug. Also the appropriate mental health professional? Whoever that would be.)

untitled aos fic - i don’t want to give a lot of details because :eye emoji: and also i don’t know much about what the plot of this is going to be anyway, lmao. but here’s an excerpt:

daisy “that actor who doesn’t shut up about data harvesting” johnson (@daisyquake) tweeted: two weeks :eyes emoji:

Elena Rodriguez | Seven Cents S2 Streaming On Netflix Now! (@yoyorodriguez) retweeted and added: the problem with being friends with daisy is that you SHOULD have some insight into what her tweets mean but you still have no idea

Fitz (@justfitz) retweeted and added: Try being married to her

untitled star wars twins fic - because i am a total and massive nerd. i’m just kind of stuffing everything i have feels about from the post-anh era into this and planning on figuring it out later? i’m really loving talking about the culture of alderaan (and the culture of the survivors) and also i just love writing luke and leia’s relationship... so much......

(no excerpt for that one because i’ve basically posted all of it in various posts lmao)

aos ds9 au - i’ve posted a LOT about this already and i want to keep the plot a surprise but fsk is in this and married and half the cast is aliens, what else do you need in life.

“Good morning,” says Jemma, coming into the room with her hair wet and her uniform crooked. “Hello, darling.”

“Hi,” says Daisy, turning her face up for a kiss. Jemma obliges absently as she walks past, looking around the room.

“Has anyone seen my hair clip?”

“No,” say Fitz and Daisy in unison.

and of course, last but never least in my heart, chapter 3 of the magnum opus - writing this is on hold until my brain decides to stop hitting me over the head at every possible moment, but there’s like... 2k written so far? it’s. it’s going.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Coulson, and makes quick work of the right gauntlet. It’s only halfway through the left one that his fingers slow and he says, quietly, “Simmons designed these, didn’t she?”

She lets out a quick breath. “Yeah.”

He stays quiet for a few more seconds, finishing up the last of the straps, making sure they’re tight enough. Finally, he says, “She should be helping you with these.”

Daisy pulls her arms back and swallows down some words, or maybe a couple of feelings, or maybe a sob. “Yeah, well.”

2. tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

the last sentence of the magnum opus!!!!!!!!!!

no, lmao, i’m gonna try to be serious. i really, really want to write some librarians fic in the near future? also MORE OF THE SENSE8 AU. i’m DYING to write some stuff about that. especially sam’s cluster, for some reason? Let’s Make Him Suffer (Comedically)! one day i’m gonna finish that list of what cluster/situation each song is about and then it’ll be over for all of us!

3. what is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

i spent about eight months imagining a scene where riza hawkeye was really injured and mustang was holding her in his arms (basically the promised day scene but with more privacy) so does that count?

hmm, just for some other possibilities: glinda telling dorothy about elphaba, laura somehow seeing or speaking to natasha during catws, a good omens au of the good place (specifically the ”i don’t even like you!” / “you doooooooo” scene), kencyrath au of star wars (ESPECIALLY THIS ONE, except setting up the first scene alone would take 7k, but i want to talk about leia and luke and their MESSED UP TRUST ISSUES in this au).

oh, also, something about star trek tng where jean-luc and beverly and jack were in love and then jack died and picard left. more specifically a scene set during the pilot episode where jean-luc very cordially offers beverly the option to transfer off the enterprise, that he wouldn’t dream of holding it against her, and beverly very cordially telling jean-luc to go fuck himself. i want to write 30k of that broken triad. i want it so bad. i dream of that fic. maybe one day when i find myself with a completely empty month or two, i’ll binge all of tng and Write Some Stuff.

4. share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

since you and i have tww in common, i’m gonna do a tww fic! otherwise i’d have to reread literally every fic i’ve ever written, lmao.

(this is long but i put this post under the cut so i have RIGHTS. also consider this a sneak peek for the j/d fic in the sense8 au?)

“It’s okay,” says Helen. She sits for a moment in silence, seeming thoughtful. “The Congressman and I are in the same cluster,” she says eventually. “I’d- I supposed that’s easier on the Secret Service?”

“Yes,” says Donna. “The-”

She stops herself from saying anything further. President Bartlet and the First Lady aren’t exactly quiet about who’s in their cluster, especially with senior staff, but that doesn’t mean she should go talking about it in an unsecured room in LA, of all places.

To cover for her blunder, she gives up something else: “The same with Josh. They got really lucky with him, actually. It’s just him and me, so they won’t have to worry about anyone threatening the Chief of Staff through the barista in the local Starbucks.”

Helen looks up from the Ohio numbers she’d drifted back to, a slow smile creeping up on her face. “Josh is in your cluster?”

“Uh-” says Donna, feeling like national security wasn’t worth whatever she’s just blundered into. Oops. “Josh- Josh is my cluster, ma’am.��

She catches her mistake the second it’s out of her mouth, but Helen doesn’t call her on it, more focused on other revelations. “No wonder you two look at each other the way you do!” she says, sounding delighted. Donna shuts her eyes, praying for this to go away. It’s not that she’s ashamed of Josh - it’s just so, so complicated, and other people never think about how difficult it was. Still is.

i’m just... i really liked the idea of donna fumbling and having to reveal this to cover up for what else she was going to say? i don’t know why i’m so charmed by this. i think it’s because it would be impossible in the show - you can’t show what someone was going to say on television, not without a lot of setup and very careful scripting. it’s just a really fun situation to write about and i’m really proud of this conversation in general.

also helen santos was a dream to write and i love her a lot. i kind of want to write one of the fics in the series about her and her cluster solely because like... look at her. she’s a delight in literally every scene. i love her.

5. what character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

daisy johnson!!! i love writing daisy johnson!!!! she is the most adhd character i’ve ever written and i literally just have to transcribe my own inner monologue and it works perfectly!!!!!

Swing shift: 1600 hours to 2400 hours. Daisy always ends up getting back to her quarters at like 0030 hours, when Jemma is asleep and Fitz is reading some kind of technical journal. Then she has to eat replicated pizza, alone, and freshly replicated pizza is actually pretty hot but it feels cold at that time of night, like, spiritually.

6. what character do you have the most fun writing?

...whoops i literally just answered that lmao. uh. i also really love writing sky masterson in the guys and dolls fic? she’s just weaponized hot queerness in a suit and i love her for it. she is intentionally trying to seduce this repressed lesbian and it’s really funny and also really hot of her and it’s so much fun to write.

also, i wrote chidi for the tgp fic and it was possibly the most fun i’ve ever had with a pov, although that was also because i was purposefully trying to mimic the tone of the show. i still think that line about michael and a grenade is, like, the funniest i have ever been in my life. but chidi’s panic was surprisingly easy to write? all of tgp’s characters have such STRONG voices, it makes writing fic ridiculously easy as long as you don’t get stuck on a plot for six months.

7. what do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? would others agree?

oof, this one is ALWAYS tricky. uh? uhh?? i’m going to ruin everything by saying this but i basically alternate between the same two sentence structures and i am really frustrated about it. i also alternate between the same two styles of endings and i always use the same beginning (set scene, main character pov, thoughts-as-exposition, back to scene).

BUT ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE i like to talk about emotions and relationships and character development!! i have my “queer subtext goggles” superglued to my face, lmao. i like to think about how characters must have felt about things in canon and how it must’ve influenced them. i like making people deal with the consequences of their actions, especially how it’s influenced they themself. i also just really, really like writing people who love each other, whether it’s romantic or platonic or anything in between. i just want them to be happy! i just want them to stick together! doesn’t matter what fandom, i stand by it.

[dancedancerevolution2020]

how to begin // disorientation

“It matters how we arrive at the places we do.” (2)

“Orientations are about how we begin; how we proceed from ‘here’, which affects how ‘there’ appears, how it presents itself.” (8)

I’m writing this at the beginning of my independent study, curious about how to proceed. The ‘here’ of the internet. 

I am beginning: in a spirit of inquiry, curiosity, creativity.

Orientations are not simply given. When we orient towards some thing or some one, we are also turning away from something. As Ahmed says, what is present or near is not “casual”, but has appeared because of certain lines followed, paths taken or not. 

The writing table: “In this book, I bring the table to ‘the front’ of the writing in part to show how ‘what’ we think ‘from’ is an orientation device. By bringing what is ‘behind’ to the front, we might queer phenomenology by creating a new angle” (4). Ahmed is calling for a politics of location, intersectionality, being situated. To queer phenomenology would be to acknowledge where one is beginning, bringing what is usually in the background to the front and thus creating a different angle, a different dialogue. 

“After all, phenomenology is full of queer moments; as moments of disorientation that Maurice Merleau-Ponty suggests involve not only ‘the intellectual experience of disorder, but the vital experience of giddiness and nausea, which is the awareness of our contingency, and the horror with which it fills us’“ (4). 

“When we are orientated, we might not even notice that we are orientated: we might not even think ‘to think’ about this point.” (5) 

“It is by understanding how we become orientated in moments of disorientation that we might learn what it means to be orientated in the first place.” (6)

I walk in to the studio. Where do I face? What do I do? Do I start on the ground? standing? with music? Lately I have been using this score of “bad dancing” because it makes me question and look at what I think is “good dancing”. One way to look at where I am oriented.

I think that all practices of somatics are in essence practices of disorientation. When I arrive at a somatic practice I am often not aware of how I hold my body and move through the world. Or, I am aware, but it has become so natural and habitual to me that I no longer feel it as new, unique. The experience has faded to the background. By feeling, thinking, and moving differently my sense of self is (at least momentarily) shaken loose. I remember my first Feldenkrais lesson in which we balanced books on our feet for an hour. When I got up, I felt like I’d been given a new pair of feet they were so alien, alive, and richly complex.

How can somatics remain flexible and rooted in community practices as opposed to rigidly codified systems? We are not given a body that we then have to try to discover the user manual for, but instead are a body and are continually investigating ourselves and our way of moving through the world.

Side note: I find it interesting that somatics often relies on others, either people or objects, to disorient. I’m interested in this inherent relationality. We need another in order to see and feel differently. 

Desire / Lines

“The lines we follow might also function as forms of ‘alignment’, or as ways of being in line with others.” (15)

“Following lines also involves forms of social investment. Such investments ‘promise’ return (if we follow this line, then ‘this’ of ‘that’ will follow), which might sustain the very will to keep going. Through such investments in the promise of return, subjects reproduce the lines that they follow” (17). Inheritance, wealth, safety. Codified structures. Pathways. Certain ways of being that we know white supremacy and capitalism will reward.

Can desire function as a kind of guiding principle (note to self: read adrienne maree brown’s Pleasure Activism next). Pleasure guiding scholarship and research. 

What do I choose to practice? How do these practices shape me? 

I am reminded of one of the first pages in Octavia Butler’s Parable of the Sower:

“All that you touch You Change. All that you Change Changes you. The only lasting truth Is Change. God Is Change.“

((I take a brief diversion to look up adrienne maree brown’s definition of “somatics” in her book Pleasure Activism)

(sidebar: listen to new podcast with adrienne maree brown and Toshi Reagon where they discuss Parable of the Sower: http://adriennemareebrown.net/tag/octavias-parables/)

“Somatics is: a path, a methodology, a change theory, by which we can embody transformation, individually and collectively. Embodied transformation is foundational change that shows in our actions, ways of being, relating, and perceiving. It is transformation that sustains over time. Somatics pragmatically supports our values and actions becoming aligned. It helps us to develop depth and the capacity to feel ourselves, each other and life around us...Somatics is a practice-able theory of change that can move us toward individual, community, and collective liberation.” (17)

I notice the use of the words change and transformation. Within oneself and one’s community and society. Concentric rings. We cannot just focus on ourselves. A theory of change and transformation -- not seeking a rigid neutrality. Balance is never still but always slightly oscillating. 

The Orient and Other Others (Queer Phenomenology Chapter 3)

“And then the occasion arose when I had to meet the white man’s eyes. A unfamiliar weight burdened me. The real world challenged my claims. In the white world the man of color encounters difficulties in the development of his body schema. Consciousness of the body is solely a negating activity. It is a third-person consciousness. The body is surrounded by an atmosphere of uncertainty. I know that if I want to smoke, I shall have to reach out my right arm and take the pack of cigarettes lying at the other end of the table. The matches, however, are in the drawer on the left, and I shall have to lean back slightly. And all these movements are made not out of habit, but out of implicit knowledge.” - Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks

Bodily awareness - 

I recently had a conversation in which we discussed intention and reception (in regard to someone not wearing a mask because they were unaware of the science behind it *extreme eye roll*). Privilege is not having to think about how something is received. It is feeling comfortable that your good intention will be seen and not having to think far enough ahead to reception. 

“Where phenomenology attends to the tactile, vestibular, kinesthetic, and visual character of embodied reality, Fanon asks us to think of the ‘historic-racial’ scheme, which is, importantly, ‘below it’.” (110)

“For Fanon, racism ‘stops’ black bodies inhabiting space by extending through objects and others; the familiarity of ‘the white world’, as a world we know implicitly, ‘disorients’ black bodies such that they cease to know where to find things--reduced as they are to things among things. Racism ensures that the black gaze returns to the black body, which is not a loving return but rather follows the line of the hostile white gaze. The disorientation affected by racism diminishes capacity for action. For Fanon, racism ‘interrupts’ the corporeal schema.” (111) I write these words and recognize the wisdom and learning in them but I also want to push back or question a little bit. I wonder about Ahmed taking away agency in this section of writing. Or rather, I wonder, as some things are not as in reach or possible when Black, what other things that are not in the white imagination become available? 

“process of racialization...consider racism as an ongoing and unfinished history, which orientates bodies in specific directions, affecting how they ‘take up’ space” (111). I really appreciate this reframing of racism as a process. It is active, we are active. But we can also bring attention to and redirect this activity. Racism is not a structure we are passively sitting inside of, that exists outside of us. 

[chasingshhadows]

I probably shouldn’t jump in on this but it’s bugging me so I’m just gonna say this and then be done with it.

There’s a lot of talk in the Roswell fandom right now about biphobia, specifically around characters (Michael) being made to “prove” their bisexuality, and perpetuating negative stereotypes (promiscuity).

And I really, really don’t want to invalidate anyone’s feelings because if that’s what you’re seeing in this show, that’s valid and it’s hurtful and I’m sorry you’re hurting. I’m not writing this post as a way to brush your feelings under the rug and say your experiences and trauma are negligible- I’m writing this because I’m seeing a lot of people that I’ve come to care about hurting and maybe, just maybe, I can show a perspective that doesn’t hurt.

(and also before I say any of this - I am an unrepentant Michael stan and an endgame, soulmates, nothing-will-ever-compare Malex shipper, so, context is key.)

Because I just... don’t agree that what we’re seeing is hurtful to the bisexual community. 

The first part, regarding characters needing to “prove” their bisexuality in order to be seen as “true” bisexuals is in fact a massive problem in the bisexual community - every day, we’re told we’re not really bisexual unless we’ve “done both” - the moment we end up in a relationship where our partner is the same gender as our most recent partner, we’re suddenly “no longer” bisexual, because we’ve finally “picked one.” If we don’t literally keep a 1:1 ratio and jump back and forth like hopscotch, our identity is erased.

I’ve experienced this and it’s damaging. My father literally told me that I needed to sleep with multiple people of both genders for him to see me as valid - I was 18. He also told me once I “settled” (read: married) - I would either be lesbian or straight depending on the gender of my partner. My best friend, who is gay, told me “hmm I just feel like you’re gonna end up with a guy, in the end.” And that’s just the beginning. So when I say what I say next, I hope you know that I do it from a place of experience and solidarity.

Michael sleeping with, and catching feelings for, two people of differing genders on the show is not the show making him prove his bisexuality - it’s the show letting him express it. Your best friend telling you she won’t believe you’re bi until you’ve slept with “both” and a show portraying a character that sleeps with people from different genders are two very different things. 

I have watched a lot of queer television. There’s a queer character on a show? especially a bisexual one? Holy shit I am so there. It is the one and sole reason I started watching Roswell. I chase representation, hard. There is nothing more enticing in a new show than the idea that I might get to see myself in it.

That said, it is still incredibly rare to see bisexual characters on television, especially bisexual men. And I’m not talking about in the last 5 years, because in just five years I have witnessed a rapid shift in television to include more queer characters. 

But I didn’t grow up in the last 5 years, I grew up in the last 20. So I can count on one hand the number of bisexual characters I have ever seen that have been with (romantically or sexually) people of differing genders in any meaningful way, and I don’t know, probably never that those people weren’t just side characters.

So this is new, for us. Having a character canonically attracted to multiple people, regardless of gender, is a new thing we’re getting to see on television. And of course Michael shouldn’t have to sleep with people of different genders for people to believe that he’s bi, but no one whose opinion mattered ever doubted that he was bi when he said he was bi. So for me, this representation of him being with different people is representation of me. And I am Here For It.

More than that, there’s this idea that if a bisexual character enters a differing-gender relationship after leaving a same-gender one, that a show is abandoning queer representation because that relationship is “basically het.” 

I’m not het. I’m not straight, none of my experiences are straight. I am queer (of the bisexual variety) and any relationship I enter into will by default not be straight because I’m not straight. There is more to the queer experience than the way that people look at you on the street and there is abso-fucking-lutely more to the bisexual experience than the way you’re treated when you’re in a same-gender relationship. 

No this doesn’t mean that there isn’t a difference in experience (and oppression) between same-gender and differing-gender relationships from the perspective of the bi person - there absolutely is. But in both cases, a bisexual person will always always always feel unseen. So that difference is one of content, not quantity. 

So - I don’t think that Michael dating/sleeping with/whatever he’s doing with Maria is invalidating to the bisexual experience. I think it’s a chance for us to finally see the bisexual experience. Finally see that it can just be that easy, to find a connection with anyone and see that gender just doesn’t really come into play at all because it’s not relevant to bisexual people - at least, not to me. 

Now, the second part, the part where people are feeling... insulted, I think, that Michael sleeping with Maria after sleeping with Alex is perpetuating this very damaging stereotype of promiscuous, incapable-of-committing bisexuals.

I’m gonna take those one at a time (promiscuous/commitment issues) because I think they’re two different things.

I think a character, bisexual or not, being portrayed as promiscuous (by definition:  having or characterized by many transient sexual relationships) is 100% a non-issue. 

The real issue is that promiscuity is seen as a negative stereotype at all. The real issue is that being sexually expressive or sexually active is seen as morally reprehensible, as something that damages their character as a person.

And unfortunately this is a two-sided coin, the other side being that asexual, sexually shy, or sexually non-expressive is also seen as negative, but while I deeply feel it’s important enough to mention, it’s not the issue on Roswell right now.

The argument here is that the show is portraying Michael as promiscuous, which feeds into this stereotype that bisexual people can’t make up their minds and just go around sleeping with anyone and everyone without reservation or caring about anyone’s feelings and that not only is that the norm, it’s basically expected (see: my father). 

And if Michael were the only character on the show displaying these behaviors, I could understand why people thought that the show were actively trying to push said stereotype - even if I don’t see that stereotype as a bad thing anyway. 

But he’s not - not even close. Max and Cameron and Liz and Kyle - all of them have engaged in casual sex and both Max and Liz have hopped beds during this season. Casual sex (while again, not a universal experience by any means, nor should it be) is normal for adults of this age, and the show is portraying it as normal.

And by normal I don’t mean that like, it’s not messy - of course it’s messy and people get hurt and people do and say shitty things because they’re human. But the fact of engaging in casual sex, or sex with multiple partners within a short(ish) time frame, is not in and of itself problematic. 

Now, to the part about the commitment issues - there’s this notion that the show is trying to portray Michael as having abandoned his feelings for Alex to hop on Maria... and here I’m kinda just.....confused. 

“Where I stand, nothing’s changed.” “I never look away, not really.” 

The show has made clear, intentional, explicit attempts to show that Michael is ass over teakettle in love with Alex and has been since he was a kid. But they’ve also made it clear that Michael hasn’t been celibate since Alex left - casual sex is a part of his life, he said it episode one.  

And Michael tried with Alex - and Alex turned him down (honestly, for good fucking reasons, even if they break my heart). He tried and gave Alex everything he had and Alex walked away. 

And Michael ... has no choice but to try and move on. And he doesn’t even do it right away, it’s not like it’s the next day or even the next week. His bed has been cold for weeks, months, before he even looks at Maria like that. And him looking at Maria like that? Caring about her and finding her attractive and wanting to touch her and be touched? Does not in any way negate the way he feels about Alex even if he’s trying to make everyone, including himself, believe that it does. 

Is sleeping with his ex’s friend a shitty thing to do? Sure. I personally have very nuanced feelings about that whole thing and its place in media, but I won’t deny that what they’re doing is not just hurtful to Alex, it’s knowingly hurtful - Michael knows that what they’re doing will hurt him and he does it anyway.

But them making choices that are hurtful doesn’t make Michael a poor representation of bisexuality - not every underrepresented character needs to be a paragon of the moral high ground for them to be subversive to their stereotypes. In fact, I really believe that forcing underrepresented identities to always be perfect and do the right thing and make no mistakes and subvert every stereotype is far more problematic because it makes a statement that that identity is only worthy of respect and love when they behave.

So - let Michael misbehave. Let him sleep around. Let him try to drown his heartache in another person. Why should he have to be perfect when everyone else gets to be flawed?

No one is harder on queer representation and queer media than queer people - and I get it. We’ve had so much bad representation and we’re sick of it and that’s understandable. But it’s turned into this thing where every slice of representation has to be Perfect or it’s Garbage, and it’s leading creators to not want to try because they’re so harshly run off every time they do. And when they don’t try, they don’t learn, and when they don’t learn, they don’t do better.

And even if the show decides to ignore literally every precedent they’ve set thus far (would not be a first, believe me) and call it quits on Malex for good, Malex isn’t theirs anymore anyway. The instant the first fanfic posted to AO3, the millisecond that first AU gifset hit Tumblr - Malex became ours. We have enough on screen and off screen content to play around in for years to come and I really hope to see all of you on that journey with me. 

If even after reading this, you still feel hurt and misrepresented and insulted by Michael’s relationship with Maria, come pop into my chat or my inbox and let me weave you tales of how that never happened, let me erase that reality from your whiteboard and replace it with something you love. Canon is just a craft store of materials - if you don’t want to use the red beads, then don’t. There’s a whole aisle of blue ones just down the way.

[vaguely-concerned]

Temeraire let’s read: Crucible of Gold AHOY!

- lol I’m glad hammond is back, he is phenomenally funny. I do love me a bureaucrat character who won’t let trifling things like dignity, morality, politeness or common sense get in the way of their job 

- it is a CRIME that Tharkay had to leave before he got to see Laurence all sun-bronzed and casually dressed and golden haired and relaxed, I wish to petition the universe itself on his behalf to correct this injustice 

- hahaha shen li is the best; a buddhist dragon would be the greatest party pooper among her own kind 

shen li, serenely: attachment to material things can only bring suffering

literally every other dragon, dripping bling from every available surface: um actually

- . . . without the clinging stink of murder and treachery which seemed to have by slow octopoid measures attached itself to his life. laurence I understand where you’re coming from on this but you have served colonial britain since you were like twelve. this has been an extremely slow process of waking up to smelling dem roses (fatherhood changes your perspective on your life situation I guess)

- awwwwww laurence finally studying some more chinese while temeraire helps him... no no this is just rain on my face yes I know I’m indoors it’s just me and lady allendale sitting here with our arms around each other crying about our boy reading poetry of his own freeish will

- oooh I really like how novik writes the way hammond talks -- it can be hard to write a character who constantly breaks up their own dialogue and interrupts themselves and continually couches their words without it being hard to read and annoying, but she really nails communicating that he’s a) completely graceless and with no dignity but also undeniably intelligent, b) definitely a Diplomat but not a total weasel, if only by a hair, c) hilarious

- pour one out for laurence’s civilian beard with me guys, gone too soon and dearly missed (and again tharkay didn’t even get to see it! this continues to be the greatest tragedy of these books let’s hope he grows it out again later when they’re all settled down.) 

- . . . These were distinguished from the others mainly for their having had less time in their careers to demonstrate a lack of initiative or skill, so he could have some small hope of uncovering some previously hidden talent. OH MY GOD LAURENCE the straight up savagery 

- DAD!LAURENCE!!! DAD!LAURENCE!!!!!!! (aaah it’s so interesting that when he gets a bit more stern you can definitely see sides of his father peeking out, but he deeply remains his mother’s son -- he’s acting from a place of affection, feeling of responsibility and concern for their futures, not the weird controlling shit lord allendale routinely pulls)

roland is such a teenager at this point oh my god. also laurence’s whole speech to demane about respecting her boundaries and agency... *chef kiss emoji* and ALSO demane is so sympathetic in this still because who HASN’T wanted to dangle some asshole over a cliff for being a creep to your friend/crush... they’re all good and perfect and I love them actually

- ...I’ve managed to put it out of my mind in the last few books but with the allegiance going down like that I keep remembering there were so many actual children onboard and now I feel ill

being an adult and realizing the full fuckedupedness of these things sucks haha

- 1) the description of seeing the ship sinking from underwater is hauntingly beautiful and 2) as I have said many a time before, thank god for demane

- see this is the other side of the coin of these books making you care so deeply about the characters; I know that no important characters die in this book but I am still so fucking stressed out by all of this D:D:D:

- well well well if gong su’s ludicrous competency wasn’t suspicious before it certainly is now, I guess china trains its spies well in the culinary arts haha

- I mean uh. what a way to symbolically and literally sever laurence from his former life and former self, I guess. you’d be hard pressed to do so more explosively at least

 - something extremely bad happened to granby, we can tick that off the list

- I feel like the prose and writing in general is super improved in this one? it feels sharp and purposeful in a way the last few haven’t quite been

- He hoped Riley would be mourned; Riley deserved to be mourned ahfksahsdajklhsajkfhaslkjfhsakjdfhdaslkfhakj pain :(:(:( I’m so sorry laurence and I didn’t even like the guy. I can’t believe that the first thing this madman does after trying to secure their survival as best he could is writing letters -- on dragonback!!! hands stiff from cold so he can only work in five minute increments!!! -- to make sure riley’s memory isn’t blackened how can he be like this

- emily roland is so smart and capable and amazing my heart is blooming with pride

- iridescent feathered dragons... holy shit this is awesome

temeraire has a little feather envy tho and also maila casually eavesdropping so he can chat up (literally) hot babes... I know they’re prisoners of war and everything but this is all pure unadulterated gold

- oh temeraire darling no have no fear hammond has no self respect whatsoever, that will not be what stops him

- I can’t believe laurence is actually taking time to tie himself in knots over not following perfect procedure around his officers’ future career options while they’re FUCKING MAROONED with a bunch of asshole sailors fkdfhsjdh

- GET YOUR DIRTY FUCJING HANDS OFF DEMANE OR I’LL CHOP THEM OFF FOR YOU YOU SWINE

sipho is like eleven and a nerd and ready to run at all these grown men armed just with a branch PAIN

- granby’s unending exasperation at laurence not knowing all the stuff that seems self-evident to him having grown up with dragons fksjdhfskajd

- aw laurence finally having a little dad talk with roland ;____; and demane has proposed to her repeatedly and she would agree in a moment under other circumstances ;________________; and it never even occurred to me that that’s why she was so upset about him taking on his own dragon but of course that would fuck everything up if that’s what she was planning OH NO ;_________________________________________________;

laurence confirmed for boytoy & hideously embarrassed about it flasdfsdkjhfksd 

“But I don’t want someone I want, if I can’t be sure of seeing him one week in the year” crack crack goes the sound of my heart breaking

I hope they find a way to solve this eventually :(

- really interesting what a clear view emily has of roland and laurence’s relationship tho, considering he’s basically her father figure -- like there’s clear affection, physical attraction and camaraderie there but it never feels particularly romantic & they both have other shit to do. (and laurence knows it too on some level, considering his main emotion when she refuses his proposal is relief lol. it really shows off this central conflict he has where like... he has a very clear idea of who he feels he should be and managed to convince himself he was for a long time, and what that man wants and needs (namely very little, emotionally) and is loyal to. aaaand then there’s the person he actually is, who’s been fighting his way to the surface since temeraire showed up in the very first book and sort of woke him up by giving him something he actually loves and values with all of himself and can’t compromise on. proper gentleman/navy!laurence feels like he has to do what society deems decent and marry roland to be a good person, actual!laurence seems to know that what they already have isn’t wrong or immoral in any way as long as they’re both happy with it. ugh I love him and I hope his last remaining character development includes realizing that who he really is is not only acceptable but actually a better man than that imagined perfect self ever could be and how many people love him for who he is already A N Y W A Y onwards)

- the incan dragons continue to be dope as hell

it’s super interesting how they’ve grown to value people -- and not just one special person, like british dragons, but whole groups of people -- over gold and jewels. like the tendency is there in dragons from other cultures; temeraire loves The Bling but would still easily prioritize laurence and his crew over it. presumably some of it is cultural and some of it must stem from the sheer trauma of losing so many people within a few centuries, which is basically living memory for a dragon (which makes it equal parts sympathetic/heartwarming and juuuuust on the edge of being too creepy and possessive haha).

- jeez this book is doing a good job at showing what a haunting fucking sight it must be to enter a land where like. 90% of the people are dead in plague and their cities stand abandoned

- fhasdklhfaskljfhs hammond going full diplomat on the dragons squabbling... he truly is something

and laurence apologizing to demane because he was out of line and he is a fellow captain now T_____T lord allendale could never

- haven’t had a lot to say for a while because I’m just so entranced with the world building and stuff haha, I find the irl history of this area super interesting as well

- ambassador iskierka........ what a time to be alive

poor poor poor granby hahahaha

- if these books were named harry potter style this one would be ‘william laurence and that time he tried to put off wearing his ceremonial robes for as long as humanly possible’

- granby being good at drawing but having atrocious handwriting is such a good little character detail, novik is just so expert at nonchalantly plopping them in 

- temeraire is being haunted by a green-eyed monster the size of a continent huh lol fair play to maila tho, he’s given it his sleazy all right from the start

I can’t believe gong su invented dragon ice cream solely so temeraire could eat it out of a tub over this... the real mvp

- awwww granby <3 I’m glad there’s some actual canonical queer rep in this series as well (as for the technically not stated straight(heh) out in canon... listen my friends if you can come up with any kind of heterosexual explanation for normally extremely sensible tenzing tharkay gazing at his friend and thinking shit like ‘in the fading light he was a statue gilded by sunlight’ and ‘it was a pang not unmixed with pleasure to look on him, as ever’, you are free to try to come at me with it but I won’t believe you lol. also laurence has the most potent disaster bisexual energy of any man in modern media even if he hasn’t quite caught on to it himself) 

tbh I know it’s mostly in desperation but they should come up with some new kind of medal to give granby for having this particular Talk with william laurence, one of the most awkward men to ever walk this earth... braver than any us marine etc.

- temeraire and iskierka in this scene STRONGLY evoke dirtbag teens sneaking off to make out in the backseat of a car or something god bless

- ...I guess you can’t fault the empress for siding with the dude already crashing like a natural catastrophe over his own home continent and who is eyeing the other six like a starving eagle would a pack of mice. all the europeans suck but I guess it’s sort of her best bet to ally herself with the biggest bully on the playground, especially since forces in her own court would be hard pressed to do anything about the situation. respect sister & congratulations granby lol

- hahahahahahaha leave it to hammond to be forcibly adopted by a dragon 

poor churki tho she’s a grownass adult and she only has one weird coke-addled diplomat and three basically adolescent dragons to work with here

- GRANBY SETTING SOME BOUNDARIES FINALLY I’m so proud of him ;__; this book really does have a lot to say about dragon/human relations huh

- LETHABO!!!!!!!!!!! man i’m so happy she’s doing well, she fucking deserves it and she’s doing good work

- laurence has evolved to his ultimate form of give-no-fucks-do-some-good laurence and hammond was not prepared lol 

“You forget yourself, Captain Laurence,” Hammond said . . . 

“I forget nothing,” Laurence answered . . . 

im crying b/c he literally has forgotten before but remembers himself at the end of victory of eagles b/c of tharkay and and aaaaaaaaaaaaaugh here he is refusing to do the dirty work he’s handed once more 

- lily and maximus! this is not a drill it’s the good good kids back at it again. also temeraire’s phenomenally misplaced sense of superiority re: his reaction to kulingile growing bigger than any of them fkshdfksahdfkj

- berkely <3

- poor harcourt :( ah well she’ll survive it tho he wasn’t that important it’s not like she lost her dragon lol (I honestly can’t feel that bad about riley considering y’know how he was not only chill with but actively for the institution of slavery)

- YOOOOOOO GONG SU! and temeraire is so happy they’re going back to china aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah I love this (laurence’s stammering outrage at this reveal is also highly entertaining “he STAYED in my father’s HOUSE!!!!!!!”)

- man that entire last battle scene was so cool in the context of the rest of the series; the sheer effort and ingenuity that went into avoiding a bigger battle and slyly aiding the only worthy cause in the situation (the tswana and freeing the slaves) is so satisfying, especially after VoE

- holy shit I really enjoyed this one! It had a good balance of travelling/character moments and giving us time with the culture and characters of the Inca and their dragons, as well as driving the overall plot forward splendidly! I also feel like we got some more meat to the laurence POV (in hindsight it feels like it was mostly temeraire POV in tongues of serpents, which is fine but I do love our golden boy and his slow burn character development too)

on to blood of tyrants! I don’t know anything about this one except a) amnesia and b) some Very Important Lines I’ve already picked up along the way, I’m not sure I’m prepared (as a trope amnesia can be pretty hit or miss for me, so it’ll be interesting at least!)

[gotatext]

by this point im p sure u all know the drill.... i’m nora, 23, she/her, gmt and tonight matthew im going to be greta o’driscoll, a terrible person but a hot one which frankly makes it almost ok. here is her pinterest..... this intro is literally just copied n pasted frm the last time i played her so soz if u’ve read it like 10+ times.... 

「 diana silvers. cis-female. 」have you seen greta o’driscoll around yet? i hear she decided to be in POTENTAS for their SOPHOMORE year as a CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY major. the 20 year old SHEPHERD is known to be tenacious, magnetic, capricious and evasive. ➨ the muse is written by nora, she/her, gmt.

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

was always a really sporty bitch. it started with a junior athletics squad, which turned into athletics and cheer, which then became athletics, cheer and hockey until she basically was doing a different activity every night. she came to see her body as a tool that she could make work for her if she trained it up and this attitude’s always kind of stayed with her that as long as her body is strong she is capable of anything. runs every day. 

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

left school at 18 n went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was working at a strip club. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time.

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate.

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea… pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming….. 

she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch. maybe it’s maybelline, maybe its coke.

massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps.  i hate her 

isn’t a foward-planner, however. greta prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manners so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning. 

not afraid to go after what she wants !! ambitious academically and romantically thirsty !! she loves the adrenaline of the chase. when someone’s easy to get, she becomes bored. very bisexual and very proud of it. feminist as fuck nd part of a queer representation in the arts group which holds fortnightly meetings to discuss lgbt representation in film, literature, art etc.

old soul in a young person’s body. all the shit that has gone on has kind of aged her. she’s quite cynical about everything now. always smoking smoking smoking. very edie sedgwick in that way.  little girls skirts bought for next-to-nothing at the market because she’s skinny enough to get away with it, barely long enough to cover your bum, and then the ugliest baggy sweater you’ve ever seen thrown over it.

likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramphone because “The Sound quality is Better” kfdsjj.

super into pop art and andy warhol. puts female friendships above everything but at the same time, would fuck her best friends man

her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk.

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

wanted plots

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sports rivalries ! sporting friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!! 

since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships

 girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

and I want like, fellow criminology students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night?? 

she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry. 

ppl she did a few modules with ie. art history, bio-med, film studies, before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with

 ppl who she runs track with. 

someone she’s trying to make a zine with. 

here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.

[maggotmouth]

        hi i’m nora ( 23. gmt. she/her ) and it turns out i really miss playing bridget ! i wasn’t feeling frida bt i wanted to explore som of her backstory more so ive kind of fused bits of her into bridget..... sue me.... for those of u who didn’t know her before i dropped her, bridget grew up in a trailer park in texas, she’s an angsty socialist leftie who gets fucked at the pub and goes off on one about capitalism.  film nerd. got in on a partially subsidised scholarship and works in a bar and a fast food place to pay for her accomodation. here’s a pinboard !! everythin else is below this cut, like this post n i’ll (probably forget to) smash that im button for plots x

application template.

( cis-female ) haven’t seen BRIDGET MATUSIAK around in a while. the MARGARET QUALLEY lookalike has been known to be GARRULOUS & CANDID, but SHE can also be FICKLE & ERRATIC. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in FILM. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

aesthetics.

thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, roller blades, grazed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes. piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you.

connection to tatiana & did they choose her name during the watershed?

knew each other from the cheer team in bridgets freshman year and tatiana’s sophomore year. had a competitive friendship to start with but then they got into a discussion about politics at a party one night, and maybe hooked up a few times after tatiana had jst broken up w someone. they were sort of seeing each other very casually for a bit, but…. they came from vastly different circles n it didn’t really work. they were in a bad partch at the time of the reaping so to speak, and bridget picked her name For A Giggle but now regrets it big time obviously

tw drugs, teen pregnancy

BACKSTORY TIME.. her mother was from the wrong side of the tracks, was chucked out of home pretty young after a teenage pregnancy, wanted 2 go to art school and started working as an erotic dancer to pay for college but then jst…. ended up staying there. one of those girls u see in the documentaries who had Big Plans but ultimately never got to pursue them n jst got…. sucked in by the money 

her mom n dad met in high school at a parents evening. alice was fourteen, toby was thirty-one. bridget’s mom alice was a roman catholic – uneducated in matters of safe sex, mother mary around her neck, bras hanging over wooden crucifixes – and willing to give it to the first boy who seemed interested enough, gift-wrapped or not. toby was the father to a girl down the road who alice knew nothing of besides her name and the few encounters in the corridors facing a stoney stare that screamed homewrecker. it only happened once, but once was enough. alice was out of the house as soon as her parents knew a child was growing in her womb.

bridget n her mum alice were more like sisters growing up, probably because of the closeness in age. alice should’ve known that you couldn’t have a thirteen-year-old-daughter at 27 without everyone knowing you’d been one of those girls who gave it away fast as a hot potato, and maybe bridget should have known that she’d inherit more than her mother’s wide eyes, that things have a way of circling back to us --- that at fourteen she too would lose it on the floor of a swimming pool changing room, soggy back, polka-dot nylon of a swimsuit pulled down to her ankles.

she grew up in a trailer park just outside of orlando resort, but she was raised in dressing rooms surrounded by sparkly costumes and nipple pasties and leotards and the like. as a kid she’d try to trot about in her moms heels n yearned for the day she’d be able to be on stage. 

if you’ve seen the florida project its a bit like tht.... just kids left to do their own shit.... mother’s a bit all over the place... made money by stealing wristbands off orlando theme park visitors, and bridget was p much raised by the community, to be honest. most of her youth was spent scurrying about half naked in cowboy boots and glasses too big for her face. a smol feral child

gilly (referred to as junior) was born four years after bridget, the son of a carpenter and sculpture artist named gilbert “gilly” senior, her moms latest squeeze. whenever she wasn’t at school bridget would be in gilly’s workshop doin her homework surrounded by parts of furniture or hanging out with the kids who were visiting disneyland but couldn’t afford the hotels on the resort

like her mother, bridget fell pregnant barely out of her gingham print dresses, hair in two plaits down her back, teddies still lining her bed. unlike her mum, she was not box-shipped out to a home for fallen women but rather booked into a clinic, given a pill, just like taking your vitamins.

her mother flaked out when bridget was around fifteen and junior was eleven. they were in the system for a while, before gilly was finally granted custody as legal guardian. the three of them moved to marfa, texas so that gilly could run classes in sculpture and woodworking at the art institute. they’re not sure where their mother went. some say she rededicated herself as a virgin and joined the convent in penance for her sins. some say she works in a las vegas strip club and sells pills to minors. bridget likes to believe that she’s an actress, her name in newspapers and her face in a star-spangled dressing mirror.

bridget used to do sponsored silences and hunger strikes for kids in developing countries. was that kid in school who was always raising money something. i mean its kinda cute but also she just wanted the acclaim and attention so…. and most of the time it didn’t even make it to the disadvantaged kids she was raising it for cos her mom needed rent money or to buy the kids new shoes n they could barely afford much themselves

she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone. will most definitely have quizzed your character on institutionalised racism whilst inhaling nos at a party and snacking on a big bowl of cheesy wotsits

aesthetic: big military or leather jackets over tiny little sundresses. always in docs or creepers and a beret with an anarchist symbol painted on it. wears a long green trench coat covered in badges for alt punk rock bands or a red denim jacket that she hacked into a crop jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors. cuffed jeans, thrifted or stolen. white converse, more grey tbh through years of wear. crop tops and plaid shirts tied round her waist. smudged mascara. glitter smeared over cheekbones from the previous night. cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson.

an aspiring screenwriter. she has a very image-based view of memory and experience. always doing a screenplay or shooting film. her style has a lot of catholic iconography (think virgin suicides style or baz luhrmann’s romeo + juliet if it was done on a super 8 camera) bcos catholicism is one of the few things she remembers about her mother. she’s never actually tried to find her mum / find out about her, jst…. occasionally channels that energy into her work.

struggles with self-image and the need to be Loved By All a lot. uses sex as an affirmation of her worth and also kinda manic-depressive (though not officially diagnosed) bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through… struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparents refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage….. so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist and hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes

she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at rallies. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch

there’s a degree of anger for anger’s sake in bridget. she likes passionate, angry music – particularly garage rock, punk and riot grrrl. she loves the slits and skinny girl diet. viv albertine inspired her to take up bass guitar.

back at lockwood she was working two jobs to pay for uni !! at the bowling alley polishing the shoes and fixing the bowling lanes, and also as a burger flipper at mcdonalds. in amsterdam she’s managed to secure a part-time bar job at one of the hendrix university bars

massive film buff. is majoring in film at uni also spends a lot of time at the movie theatre n probably has like a season ticket. is one of those pretentious film nerds who’re like “what do u think of goddard’s work?” but also just really into shitty horror movies

she spends her evenings in downtown bars willing away her boredom, trying to find something that’ll jerk her out of apathetic lethargy. she toys with the idea of becoming a stripper — it certainly pays better than flipping burgers — but she lacks the energy to dance for several hours a night.

she loves b movies and slasher flicks. at parties, she’ll occasionally try to make a horror of her own, on a super 8 camera in someone’s basement, very paranormal activity, but she’ll inevitably get bored, or too drunk and give up, like she does with most things in her life. she lacks drive and motivation. she’s bright but there’s no hunger in her.

she’s fickle and enigmatic. one moment she could be your best friend, the next, she’ll behave like a total stranger. bridget’s unpredictable because she’s still unsure of her own identity, frequently flitting between different characters, like snake skins, before she grows bored of being bubbly and eager and becomes spiteful again. her core personality traits are probably forthright, impulsive, restless, thrill-seeking, selfish, gregarious, easily bored, childish.

SOME ?MILDLY AMUSING? FACTS

writes shitty poems on the back of napkins and quotes dead philosophers she’s never read. romanticises herself a lot. like will be standing there in a ripped t-shirt and her undies smoking a cig like “hmmm… i bet someone is falling in love with me right now”

is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties like that isn’t shit for the environment ?? sis, it don’t add up

loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.

she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.

favourite drink is cherry coke

a lot of her time is spent in the record store, plugged into a set of headphones, head-banging in the corner to a scratched record. music, for birdie, is a form of escapism. that and dropping acid in parking lots lmao.

sells nudes on twitter. whenever she gets low on cash she contacts one of the seedy old men who used to visit her mom’s club to venmo her $500 in return for pictures

that girl who’s always harping on about body positivity on instagram while wearing cute underwear and looking absolutely bomb

really good at rodeo bull riding. the club in marfa had one so as a youth she got really good at it bcos she was constantly tryin to outdo her friends on who could stay on for the longest. a video of her staying on one for like 4 minutes after downing several jager bombs went viral once.

micro-doses acid for mild depression bcos she didn’t believe in “that CBT bullshit”, thought that therapists, like her, were jst con artists so always a bit spaced out

volunteers at one of the local galleries but mostly just rants to old white dutch men about how cis white men have dominated art for years :/ is one of those SJW-types , like.... have a day off, jameela jamil......

has a pet rat called popeye

takes photographs of dead animals to use in her art and often posts them side-by-side with stills of women in porn to show the shelf-life of female sex workers in a patriarchal-dominated industry or some bullshit idk

big into spoken word poetry, even if its shit. likes savage depictions of femininity

wrote a thesis on art as an act of masturbation that got published

this bitch HATES capitalism and LOVES karl marx

time isn’t real. nothing exists. the self is a social construct. finger guns.

an awful person, really

plots i want that i mostly stole from the tags

muse a tries to stand up for muse b in a bar but unfortunately cannot fight for shit.

muse a (prob bridget cos works in a bar) works somewhere that’s open late and muse b comes in to take shelter from the storm.

‘I got in my car and you were sleeping in the backseat who the hell are you and how did you get into my car’ 

 umm a wlw plot isnpired by san junipero ! esp this post. could have been a former fling that ended sourly !! cos i dont like ship forcing but still?? give me wlw stuff

 “i just decked you in the face because i’m drunk and you were pissing me off but ow my hand really fucking hurts i think i might have broke it and oh look your nose is bleeding and now we’re both sitting awkwardly in the hospital while i glare at you from across the room. but wait are you giving me sex eyes?? stop that i’m supposed to mad at you??”

“platonically sharing a bed until i wake up and you’re curled round me and my nose is buried in your hair so i’ll pretend to stay asleep to keep this for a little while longer” plots

 “highkey want a ‘someone wrote your phone number on the wall of a bathroom in my dorm with ‘call for a good time’ and i just texted you to let you know that i scribbled it out and oh wait you’re actually funny and easy to talk to and now we’re talking every day and i might have a tiny little crush on you even tho  i don’t even know your name’ plot”

 goddamn its another shippy wlw plot apparently that’s all my tag is but this post

“known for being rebels without cause, MUSE A and MUSE B are synonymous to their fast cars, nights out beneath the stars, empty bottles of alcohol, and loud music. they meet by chance one night and immediately click, and embark on a careless adventure after it despite not knowing each other. it’s them against the world: after all, what could go wrong ?”

any of these sad sour unrequited love plots

‘we take the same elevator every day and due to a misunderstanding I assumed you didn’t speak english and I’ve been talking to my friend about how hot you are for three weeks and apparently my friend has known from the start but you agreed not to tell me bc you both think its hilarious what the fuck’ au

‘I accidentally dropped you while you were crowd surfing and you broke your ankle and now I feel responsible so I’m carrying you out of the moshpit’ au

walked in on my roommate and you screwing except i know you from class and i freaked out a little

i was hustling you in pool for money but you were hustling me for free drinks so who’s the real winner here?

bridgot goes to strip clubs n peep shows like every day, cos she’s writing about the history of pornographic film n its basically research for her, so if ur characters would be into strip clubs they might see her there

i feel like she’d be on student council if they had one of those. shes that kind of bitch, turning up like elle woods with a big feather pen or a light-up heart marker, slamming down some truths before upping and leaving to go for her 11am chai latte break

som1 who attended the art institute in marfa for a summer n maybe knew her when she was a bit younger ??? idk

drama. angst. horror. also nice bike rides in amsterdam please

feel free to im me if u wanna plot, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!